On Better Terms
Chapter 3
Commentary from the Hetalia Gallery
Arthur: Why does Alfred have to be the rich one?!
Alfred: Because all heroes are paid very well. It's justice!
Arthur: Shut up, baka.
Roderich: Ah, how sad it is... But it's true. My love never seems to notice...
Elizaveta: What was that? You love someone? Oh! Oh! Tell me who it is!
Roderich: *sigh*...
Galythia: So... *awkward silence*... Muriel makes an appearance in this one! I made that name up for her, since Belgium doesn't have a name... I think. If she does, do tell me. Other than that, on with the show!
When Arthur dropped Alfred off, he was confronted with a hundred dollar bill as payment.
Alfred smiled apologetically at Arthur. "I'm sorry for giving you such a big note, but I've really got nothing else on me besides hundreds."
Arthur just stared at the note. It was obvious that he had never seen one in his life, let alone hold one.
But since he was just starting off the day, he didn't quite have enough change for a hundred. He didn't know what to do.
"Sir… It seems that I don't have enough. I only have… forty dollars on me at the moment, since you're my first customer."
Alfred's fare was only $23. That left $37 unaccounted for. Plus, Arthur had to keep some money to give other change with, since he was sure that no one else would want a hundred as change.
Alfred thought about it and finally decided. "You give me… Oh, we'll say… twenty dollars. That leaves you with enough to give change to other passengers. And the fifty-seven dollars that is still unaccounted for. Well, what fifty-seven dollars are you talking about?" He smiled brightly. It was almost too bright a smile for Arthur, who couldn't remember the last time he smiled at all.
Alfred got out of the taxi before Arthur could reply. And Alfred cut him off, knowing Arthur was going to protest. "Don't. Give it to someone if you don't want it." He smiled and patted the back of the cab, signaling for Arthur to go.
Dumbfounded, Arthur just automatically put the car into the necessary gear and drove off, unfeeling.
This had been too much. Some random stranger had given him $57?! That was more than he earned had ever earned on one day of cab driving.
Arthur checked his rearview mirror, trying to see if Alfred was still there. But Alfred was already gone.
Alfred stepped into the shower and turned on the cold water. He needed to wake up.
As he let the water run over his face and body, he slowly lathered himself, thinking about his actions.
Why did I do that…?
He had never been one to be that loose with his money, and yet, he had felt that it had been the right decision.
He could have just as easily gone up stairs, told the driver to wait, and come back down with the correct amount. He could have. And yet, he didn't.
Alfred smiled slightly. I'm becoming a martyr and a hero. He shook his head to clear it of the thought then finished his shower. He tried to think no more of the matter.
Alfred checked the clock on the wall. He had about an hour before he had to leave. Not that bad… but he still had to prepare the presentation for the meeting.
So Alfred set down to work.
.:ONE HOUR LATER:.
Alfred called for a taxi and went back to the office, this time armed with the proper bills for the trip. He knew that it was unlikely that he would ever meet that driver again, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to or not. It was evident in that man's eyes that he was almost to the end of his light. If only I could be a hero for those problems too.
Alfred thought of it no more and concentrated on the upcoming meeting.
He set into the building with a large and slow stride, wanting to show his importance to his firm and wanting to feel that also himself.
Roderich Edelstein sat around in the back waiting for his favorite bartender to arrive.
Roderich worked at the same bar as Arthur, but he was a pianist instead. His beautiful wife, Elizaveta Héderváry, was the cook of the bar, and he often escaped to the back when he wasn't playing, just to see her.
Elizaveta approached just then and offered smiled brightly, offering him a cup of coffee. Roderich smiled and commented on how beautiful she was looking today and gladly accepted the cup. As usual, Elizaveta ran off without even noticing his compliment. Roderich shook his head, already used to this long ago.
Maybe that's why I love her...
Arthur quickly changed into his uniform when he arrived. He had been running late since he had to pick his brother up from school—the one day that he had time to actually do that.
Roderich was up playing the piano at the moment, and everyone else was preparing for the high time that would come that night. After work, men always came here to drink away their sorrows. Perhaps that's why Arthur had been drawn to work here. This way, he could forget about his own troubles as he listened to others'.
Arthur fixed his bow tie and walked out to the bar. He saw some familiar faces, but most of them wouldn't come for another hour at least.
He smiled to the waitress, Muriel, a curious girl from Belgium who didn't particularly stand out much in crowds. Yet, she held the heart of many regulars of this bar.
Arthur then started rearranging the bottles on the shelf to how he liked to order them. He never met the other bartenders here, since bartenders had such long shifts that when their shifts were over, they tried to disappear as quickly as possible. The same went for Arthur. And that's why the bottles were always rearranged on the shelf behind him. The first few times, it had been almost impossible to correct, but now he had settled into a routine that could be done blindfolded.
As the clock struck eight, he started dealing out drinks here and there, enjoying the lax ambiance before the nine o'clock rush.
Author's Comments:
I'm sorry if it's gotten a little boring in this chapter. I'm just struggling a little with the transition into the actual story. I'm trying to figure out the small nuances of the story. Chapter four is giving me a hell of a time! Anyways, beyond that, there aren't many problems.
I wrote this chapter in English class as I was listening to the teacher drone on and on about how quote citations were supposed to go after he ending quotation mark, but before the period. Honestly, who didn't learn this years ago?
I hope to have the next chapter done soon (and hope that it's better than this crappy chapter also). Thanks for sticking with me this far!
- Galythia
