A/N: I am so sorry! Roderich's hardly in this Chapter at all, and Elisaveta is only mentioned. *puppy dog eyes* Please forgive me!

And Denmark really wasn't supposed to come into it this early…but I love him, ridiculously much. I'm told I act a lot like Denmark…in other words, I'm loud, hyper, part-Danish and spend all day annoying my dear friend Spectreon, who acts just like Norway (she's currently writing a Nordic/Haruhi crossover, if that's your kind of thing, go read it 8D)

And finally, before the actual story starts, I would like to say just how grateful I am to everyone who has reviewed this story so far, it means so, so much to me to know that the hard work I'm putting into this story is paying off!

EDIT: Ah! Forgot to mention, Antonio teaches Spanish and French, it's quite common for teachers to do so~

In the end, Francis didn't need to wake Gilbert up as he was woken once again by Ivan invading his dreams. It was still light outside and it streamed through the top and bottom of his curtains. He squinted at the clock across from his bed; it had gone five. He smiled; he had been able to sleep quite a few hours, more than he had for the last few days at any rate.

He stood out of bed and yawned, stretching his arms out to loosen them up. He headed to the bathroom; he didn't care if Francis and Antonio were impartial to his slight lack of hygiene, he felt disgusting.

He stripped off and caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His face twisted as he did and he looked away quickly, not wanting to see the marred mess his body had become.

He turned the shower on and waited a few seconds for it to warm up before stepping under the running water. He winced as it hit his more recent wounds but quickly adjusted to the stinging sensation. After washing his body and hair, he quickly towel-dried himself and got dressed in the bathroom. He had brought clothes with him so as not to bump into Francis, or Arthur is he was still here, when he walked across the hallway to his room wrapped in only a towel.

After hanging up his towel and dumping his clothes in the washing basket, he ran downstairs. His hair was still wet, but it was so short that it would be dry in no time. He walked into the living room, where Francis was sipping wine and watching some boring cooking show.

Gilbert leaned against the doorway and scrutinised his friend, "Do you drink anything but wine?" He asked.

Francis looked up at him, smiling, "Not really, no. I drink coffee in the morning, and then wine for the rest of the day. Life is short, one must enjoy it."

Gilbert snorted and walked over to the armchair that had earlier held Arthur. Francis picked up the remote from the coffee table and muted the television before turning back to Gilbert, "Did you sleep well?" He sounded almost suspicious.

"Better than usual"

"Hmm, then usual must not be very good; you were shouting out."

Gilbert felt a sweat break out over his body, "Shouting out? What was I saying?"

"You weren't saying anything as such, or not intelligible words, there was just a lot of screaming." Francis frowned, "I wish you'd tell us what was wrong."

Gilbert looked away from Francis, "Nothing is wrong, why will no one get that?"

Francis looked like he was about to respond but at that moment the door opened and Antonio barged into the room.

"Hola mis amigos!"

A disgruntled Lovino was standing in the hallway behind him, "English, please Antonio! No one wants to hear your shitty language."

Antonio turned to him, "You're just saying that because you prefer it when I only speak Spanish to you."

Lovino blushed furiously, "That's not true."

Antonio laughed, kissed Lovino on the cheek and turned back to his friends, "Francis, do you mind cooking tonight? I seem to be doing a lot of the cooking lately, and you're supposed to be the chef!"

"Yes, so I have to cook non-stop whilst I am at work!" Francis complained, but he said it in a light-hearted tone and stood up to go the kitchen. Antonio followed Francis into the kitchen and Lovino tagged after him. Gilbert, now feeling a little left out, stood up and headed there too so as not to be lonely.

As Francis cooked the pot-au-feu he had decided on for dinner, Antonio idly talked away to Lovino and Gilbert about his day at work. Gilbert stayed quiet most of the time, but he couldn't help noticing how much Lovino rejected Antonio's constant advances, how uncomfortable he looked. He shook it off, he was probably just over-reacting.

Antonio continued to talk. Lovino continued to squirm. Gilbert just stared.

After a while, he couldn't take it anymore. "Just leave him alone." He said it quietly, almost to himself. But Antonio seemed to hear him and stopped mid-sentence, "Huh? You say something?"

Gilbert waved his hand in the young Italian man's direction, "When he says to leave him alone, leave him." He said, a little louder this time.

Antonio looked puzzled for a second, and then broke out into a grin, "Lovino doesn't mean it when he says that, he loves me really." When he said that last part, he leaned over to Lovino who batted him off.

Gilbert was getting frustrated, "Can't you see he doesn't like it?" He hadn't realised how much he had raised his voice until even Francis stopped to look at him. But he didn't care, he carried on, "When people say 'stop', Antonio, it's generally what they fucking mean! So leave off him already."

Antonio looked slightly shocked, Lovino even more so, he spoke up, "It's alright," He frowned, "I don't mind Antonio being all touchy, I just wish he wasn't so public about it."

Antonio was still silent, and looked slightly offended now by Gilbert's outburst. Gilbert noticed his own breathing starting to get heavy and realised he was going to start hyperventilating again. He threw his hand in the direction of the window; a still stunned Francis appeared to understand him and opened it so that Gilbert could get some fresh air.

It took him a few minutes to calm his breathing, but once he had, he stood up and ran back upstairs to his room, now craving the loneliness that he had rejected such a short while ago.

Antonio watched his friend leave the room in shock; he'd never seen Gilbert act like that before, ever. He had always been very forward himself as a child. Antonio turned to Lovino again, but this time asked cautiously, "I don't make you feel uncomfortable, do I?"

Lovino shook his head, blushing.

Antonio relaxed and took a different angle, "What the hell is his problem?"

Lovino sighed, "So he actually has his head screwed on, and that means he has a problem now?"

"You're just defending him because he took your side!"

Francis walked over and placed his hand on Antonio's shoulder, "I wouldn't take it personally, Antonio. Gilbert seems pretty troubled about something, I'm sure 'e will tell us what eventually, but for now we should probably try and support 'im, getting annoyed at 'im won't do anyone any good."

Antonio looked up at Francis, "And how do you know he's actually troubled about something? Maybe he's right, maybe nothing is wrong."

Francis shook his head, "you didn't 'ear 'im earlier, when he was sleeping, it wasn't pretty. No man who is not troubled screams like zat."

Antonio sighed heavily and sprawled his arms across the table "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But he had no need to lash out at me like that."

After eating dinner and taking Lovino home (he still had a lot of university work to finish, so no matter how hard Antonio begged and pleaded, he refused to stay the night), Antonio headed upstairs to his room to mark some test papers. He flopped onto his bed and pulled out the first one, and rummaged around in his bag for the mark scheme. When he couldn't find he it started searching for his laptop, he was pretty sure he had sent it to himself by e-mail in case this very situation happened.

After a few minutes of pointless searching, he remembered that he had lent his laptop to Gilbert the previous day. Feeling slightly uneasy, he headed over to Gilbert's room and opened his door.

Gilbert was getting changed into suitable clothes for sleeping in when he heard the door open behind him, he hastily pulled the top he was holding on and spun around quickly.

Antonio was standing at his door, a slightly puzzled look on his face, "Who's Ivan Braginski?"

Gilbert felt his blood run cold and he stood there, opening and closing his mouth a few times before eventually getting out, "What?"

"I said 'Who's Ivan Braginski?'; it's tattooed onto your back."

He stood staring at Antonio in shock for a few seconds before running past Antonio and into the bathroom, he closed the door behind him and ripped off his top. He turned around so that his back was facing the mirror and looked over his shoulder. Although in the mirror it looked more like 'iksnigarB navI', Gilbert could see what Antonio was talking about. But the 'tattoo' that his friend had noticed wasn't that at all, the name written above the burn scar that Toris had given him was a brand.

Gilbert thought back to when it happened; it was when he had only been at Ivan's for a couple of months, and he hadn't realised at the time what Ivan had burned into him, hadn't realised that Ivan had actually written something, and not just anything, his name.

He laughed bitterly, it sort of reminded him of the way a schoolgirl would write her name on her pencil case, or iron it into an item of clothing. In a way, that was exactly what Ivan had done. The brand was a nametag, it told people who he belonged to.

He pulled his top back on, feeling sick, and headed back out the room. Antonio was still standing in his doorway, "You alright?"

Gilbert nodded, "Yeah, just felt a bit sick and I didn't think you'd want me throwing up all over you."

"So who is he?" Antonio pried as Gilbert walked back into his room and sat on the edge of his bed, "Is he the guy you were with?"

Gilbert stared down at his hands, "Can I ask that we don't talk about this?"

Antonio hesitated for a second, his eyes flicking towards Francis's room before he replied, "Right, sorry. Um…do you still have my laptop? That's actually why I came here in the first place."

Gilbert leaned over his bed and picked the computer up. As he handed it to Antonio, he decided he should probably apologise for his earlier outburst, "I, er, I'm sorry about shouting at you earlier." The atmosphere was more than a little awkward, but Gilbert pressed on, "I just…everything between you and Lovino is totally consensual, right?"

Antonio smiled at him, "Yeah, promise. And, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He took the laptop off Gilbert, "I'll try not to be all over Lovino when you're around."

Gilbert nodded his thanks to him, then remembered what he had planned to talk to Antonio about earlier, before he freaked out about Lovino, "You know your friends? Roderich and Elisaveta?"

"The ones who are getting married, yeah."

"I do know them."

"Really?" He grinned, "What a coincidence! I didn't realise."

"Yeah, I was wondering whether you could tell me where they lived."

Antonio paused, he looked like he was thinking about something. Gilbert was about to press him harder when he replied, "Roderich called me today – whilst I was at work, mind you – he was asking whether I wanted to go round to his place at the weekend, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if ya came along with me."

Gilbert felt the smile on his face widen considerably, "Thanks a lot." He said.

"No problem. Anway, I've got a shit load of marking to do before tomorrow, So I'd better start soon. See ya!"

"See ya." Gilbert repeated back at Antonio as he pulled the door to and left the room.

Gilbert lifted his arm round to his back, running his hand along the name written there, then he gritted his teeth and rammed his fist into the wall.

Antonio was on his third paper when his door opened. At first, he thought it was Gilbert, seeing as he had just spoken to him, but as soon as he saw the two glasses of wine held in the man's hands he realised it was Francis.

"Great timing," Antonio said to his blond friend as he perched himself on the end of Antonio's bed, "You can help me mark these French papers."

He chucked a few of the papers in Francis's general direction. Francis rolled his eyes and handed one of the glasses he was holding to Antonio before picking up the test that fell closest to him, "After I brought you wine as well!" He exclaimed.

Antonio laughed, "Gracias."

"De rien." Francis replied before reading the first question on the test and picking up a pen from Antonio's windowsill.

After a few minutes of just the scratching of pens on paper and occasional slurping of wine disrupting the silence in his bedroom, Antonio piped up, "I think I know the name of the guy who Gilbert's been living with."

Francis's head snapped up and a slightly hurt expression was apparent on his face, "He told you?"

Antonio smiled reassuringly at his best friend, "No, I think if he told any of us, it'd be you anyway, I don't think he trusts me. I walked in on him getting changed, I only saw it briefly, but he has a name tattooed on him, 'Ivan Braginski', sounds Eastern European."

Francis's face morphed into a smile, "Onhonhon~ Did you ask about him?"

Antonio nodded, "Yeah, but he looked uncomfortable when I did, so I dropped the subject. I'm guessing they must have had a pretty messy break up or something. Maybe that's what the lack of sleep is about."

Francis shook his head, "I don't zink so, he sounded in pain, but it could have something to do with the reason why he looks so miserable."

They carried on silently marking tests papers for a few more minutes before Antonio threw down his pen in frustration, "Now I'm curious about this Ivan guy!"

Francis gave him a warning look, "Don't press Gilbert about him, wait until he brings it up, he'll tell us when he's ready."

Antonio sighed and relaxed against the wall and picked up his pen again, "I guess…I hope that's soon."

Francis suddenly smiled, "I think this is the first time Gilbert hasn't barged in on us whilst we were talking about him." He quickly glanced up at the door, daring it to prove him wrong, then turned back to the paper he was marking, with a frown on his face, "This student really sucks at French."

The next day, Gilbert sat eating his breakfast whilst reading the phone number list from Ludwig. He considered calling his father and arranging to meet him properly but it was Mathias's number his eyes kept lingering on.

Decided, he placed his now empty bowl by the sink, which he noticed Francis had completely finished cleaning. He headed to the phone and was about to dial Mathias's number, but he couldn't help remembering his hands-on approach to life. He wondered if he would be able to cope around such a touchy-feely person, but a lot of years had gone by, and people changed. Perhaps he wasn't quite as bad now. Although judging by Arthur's comment about him the previous day, that wasn't the case.

He sighed and rang the number anyway; he didn't have to arrange to meet up with him straight away, a phone call would do for now, it would just be nice to talk to him again.

The phone rang a few times before he heard someone at the other end, "Hej Francis! Or is this Antonio?"

Gilbert smiled to himself; trust Mathias to not even wait for the person calling to introduce themselves, "Neither, it's Gilbert."

"What?" The Dane expressed loudly, "You live with Antonio and Francis? But I've been round there loads and I've never seen you! Not once!"

Idiot. "I've only just started living here; I've been away for a long time."

Mathias's tone sobered slightly, "I noticed…it was never the same without you there."

Gilbert felt quite touched by Mathias's comment, but was far too awesome to actually admit that to him. "I, er, I just called to ask how you were."

Mathias laughed, not because anything was funny, but probably just because he was happy, "I'm great!"

Gilbert couldn't help feeling that Mathias was lying, his ever cheerful tone was slightly flat and the laugh, now he thought about it, sounded a little forced. He paused for a second, "Did you and that Lukas kid ever actually hit it off?"

There was silence for a long time before Mathias eventually said, "Yeah, we were dating for a few years, but he broke up with me about 5 months ago." He heard Mathias sigh lightly, "I haven't really seen him much since." Then his tone lightened, "But that's in the past, right?"

Gilbert was pretty sure it wasn't as 'in the past' as Mathias hoped. He sighed and Mathias continued talking, "Anyway, I'm almost there now, so I might put the phone down."

Huh? "Almost where?" Gilbert asked

"Antonio's house of course!"

"What?"

"That's why you called, right?"

Er, no. Gilbert was about to point out that Mathias had pretty much just invited himself round, but decided that upsetting his friend within minutes of talking to him again after such a long time probably wasn't a good idea.

"Whatever, I'll see you in a sec then, yeah?"

"Yeah, see you!"

Gilbert put the phone down and ran upstairs. He could hear Francis pottering around in the kitchen, so hopefully when Mathias knocked on the door, it would be Francis who would open it and feel his friendly wrath.

It only took a few minutes for Mathias to arrive. Gilbert listened to Francis moving downstairs, when he was convinced he had gone to open the door, he slowly started making his way down.

Francis looked surprised as he opened the door, "Mathias! I wasn't expecting you." He sounded pleased though, so they were obviously still as close as they were in secondary school.

Mathias glomped his younger friend, "I came to see Gilbert…I brought beer!"

Gilbert stayed standing on the stairs so it would be hard for Mathias to forcibly hug him. He grinned at his tall friend, "'Sup." He said.

Mathias grinned back, "Good to see you again! So, who's up for a drink?"

They spent the rest of the day talking; Mathias was the kind of person who could talk for a very long time about absolutely nothing so the day seemed to pass quite quickly and Gilbert felt confident enough to drink a little more beer than he had a couple of days before, he was however cautious that he didn't get drunk; he didn't want to say anything he would regret later.

For the rest of the week, Gilbert didn't do much at all. He talked briefly with Arthur and Mathias again, and Arthur informed him that he would be happy for him to start working next week if he wished.

By the time the weekend rolled around, he was feeling rather bored and was grateful that he had made plans to see Roderich and Elisaveta with Antonio. He wasn't grateful, however, when Antonio woke him at a very untimely hour.

"Gilbert! Rise and shine!" He pulled open his curtains, "It's a brand new day! There are people to see, places to-"

"Okay, okay! Enough with the sunshine and rainbows talk, I'm getting up." Gilbert interrupted.

"Sunshine and rainbows, whut?" Antonio said, then just shook his head and went to leave the room, "I'm all ready, so I'll wait downstairs for ya and we'll head off to Roderich's house"

"Cool, I'll try to be quick." He said.

Once he was washed and changed, he ran downstairs and stuck his head into the lounge, where Antonio was waiting patiently, "I'm ready." He said.

They headed outside to Antonio's car. Gilbert felt a gnawing sensation in his stomach as he saw it, he hated feeling so trapped, but he couldn't imagine how he was supposed to explain to Antonio that he was scared of his car without sounding like a total loony so he kept his mouth shut and simply zoned out, trying to keep his mind off the cramped space he was in.

Gilbert was extremely relieved when they arrived at Roderich's house and got out of the car immediately. He stared up at the house, it was pretty big, in fact, it was huge, Gilbert wasn't quite sure how they had managed to afford it; didn't Elisaveta work with Antonio? So she was probably a teacher, which wasn't exactly the highest paying job in the world.

He turned to Antonio, "What does Roderich do for a living?"

"I thought you knew him?"

"I did, quite a long time ago though."

"He's a musician," Antonio explained as they walked up the driveway, "And he composes music too I believe."

Gilbert glanced at the imposing house in front of them, "I'm guessing that pays pretty well."

Antonio grinned, "Yeah, and Elisaveta comes from a pretty rich family, and I think they support her financially quite a bit."

Gilbert was surprised to hear that at first, she seemed like such a working class kid when he had played with her as a child, but then her private school education came to mind and he quelled his surprise.

When they got to the door, they noticed a small sign had been pinned up. Gilbert leant forward and scrutinised the loopy handwriting. It read:

Dear Antonio,

I am currently dropping Elisaveta off in town to meet with some of her friends. I shan't be long, but if you don't want to be kept waiting, feel free to use the key that I have left underneath the doormat to let yourself in and make yourself at home. But please don't break anything.

Sorry for any inconvenience caused,

Roderich

Gilbert read it a couple of times and then burst out into laughter, "He could have just written, 'I'm out, be back soon.'"

Antonio shook his head, chuckling slightly, "And he probably shouldn't have written where he left the key in plain view of anyone who came to the door. He can be such an idiot"

Antonio leaned down, lifted up the doormat and pulled the key out from underneath it, he opened the door and headed inside. Gilbert felt his stomach tighten slightly; he couldn't help noticing how similar the layout of the house was to Ivan's, but the furnishings and colour scheme were vastly different. There was a lot less red.

Curious now as to what the rest of the house looked like, he wanted to take a look around but didn't think there was any way he would be able to ditch Antonio to do so. Thinking on the spot, he turned to his friend, "I need the toilet; I'll be back in a sec."

He ran upstairs without waiting for Antonio to respond. He noticed the bathroom was near to the stairs, and made a mental note to flush the toilet when he went back past it, so his cover for simply being nosy was realistic.

The next room he looked in was obviously their bedroom, Gilbert felt mildly amused at how feminine it looked. Either Elisaveta had decorated, or Roderich had the taste of a woman. More likely the latter.

He wasn't sure how much time he had, so he didn't stop to nose around the room. Instead, he poked his head round the doorway of the room next to it and felt his mouth drop open. It was filled with instruments; woodwind, strings, brass… Roderich seemed to have a whole orchestra hidden in here. Although saying that, there wasn't a piano anywhere in sight, but perhaps it was downstairs somewhere, dragging a piano upstairs didn't come across as a particularly pleasant task

He walked in the room, all thoughts of getting back downstairs quickly flying right out the window. He headed straight over to the violin lying in its open case, it seemed to be calling him, teasing him.

He leant down and picked it up carefully, it was a full-size violin but it still felt incredibly light, he lifted it up and placed it under his chin, smiling at how familiar it felt.

Gilbert kicked at the yellowing leaves that littered the pavement. School had been ridiculously boring that day, and he really just wanted to get home.

Passing the courtyard he always did on his way back from school, he heard a small, pitiful whimpering sound and turned to see what was making it.

A young boy in very smart uniform was sat on the floor, looking helplessly at the blood that was oozing from his knee. Gilbert rolled his eyes and headed towards the boy.

"Oi, Priss, whatcha doing on the floor?"

"I fell over" The boy sniffed, "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're being a whiney bitch" Gilbert said, but he swung his bag off his back and started rummaging around in it.

The young boy gave him a quizzical look, "What are you looking for?"

Gilbert didn't respond, but carried on searching through his bag until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small box of plasters and handed one of them to the kid, "For your knee" He explained as he gave it to him.

He looked surprised for a second, then warily accepted the plaster, "Thank you." He looked back at Gilbert once he had put it on his knee, "Why the hell do you carry plasters around with you?"

Gilbert shrugged, "My Dad makes me, 'cause apparently I'm always getting into trouble."

Gilbert stood up, "Well, I'm off, watch yourself next time."

"Wait!" The boy called, looking mortified, "I, er, I'm lost." He admitted.

"Lost? How'd you mean?"

"Um, I was trying to walk home from school, usually Daddy picks me up but he was busy today so he couldn't, and I think I must have taken a wrong turning somewhere…I don't really know where I am."

Gilbert had to bite his lip to prevent himself from bursting into hysterical laughter, "You got lost?" He taunted, "On your way home from school?"

The boy looked affronted and 'hmph'ed slightly, crossing his arms.

Gilbert grinned, "Fine, I'll try and help. Where'd you live?"

"On Fuchsia lane."

Gilbert looked at the school badge on the boy's blazer pocket, then back at his face, "You're joking right? I do know where that is, where all the posh-ass people live, but dude, you took more than just one wrong turning, you've gone completely the wrong way."

The boy's face fell, "Oh, well, could you show me the way?"

Gilbert sighed, so much for getting home quickly but accepted and reached out his hand to pull the boy to his feet. Once he was standing, the boy brushed down his clothes and held out his hand to Gilbert, "I'm Roderich by the way, Roderich Edelstein."

Gilbert shook his hand off, "I don't shake hands, that's just sad." He paused, "You're German?"

Roderich shook his head, "Austrian."

"Same thing, pretty much." Gilbert grinned, "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt. But I'd prefer it if you called me 'Awesome' , or 'He who must be revered and loved'"

Roderich stared at him, "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

He rolled his eyes, "I think I shall call you Gilbert."

"Great! So we get to choose what to call each other? Can I call you Priss? Or is Specs a little more suitable?"

Roderich glared at him, "Can we just find my house please?"

"Right, let's go" Gilbert said as he headed off in the direction of Fuchsia lane.

After a few minutes of walking and Roderich saying, "I'm sure it was that way." They arrived at the bottom of the street.

"Right, here you go, you can find your house on your own street right?"

Roderich glared at him again "Ja, ja."

"Great, 'cause I need to be heading home myself." He turned around to leave then thought of something and turned back, "And now you owe me."

"What?"

"Awesome helped you, and Awesome doesn't do things for free; you owe me."

Roderich frowned, "What exactly do you want?"

"I dunno…wait, how about you teach me something awesome?"

"But I don't know anything 'awesome'!"

"Sure you do, got any talents?"

Roderich thought for a second, "Well, I do embroidery," Gilbert screwed his face up in disgust as Roderich continued. "And I'm good at cooking, and I can play quite a few instruments."

Gilbert finally looked half-interested, "What can you play?"

"Piano, flute, harp, viola, violin…" He began listing.

Gilbert stopped him, ""Okay, okay, I get it; you're a total music snob." He paused "How about you teach me how to play the violin? I'll bet I'll be really good at it."

"Fat chance, but I'll teach you anyhow, I suppose spreading love of music won't hurt." He smiled for the first time that day, "When do you want to start?"

"I'll meet you tomorrow; will you remember how to get to that courtyard?"

Roderich's face returned to a frown, "Probably not."

"Right, I'll meet you outside your school tomorrow, and show you the way, I'm sure you'll remember it eventually."

Roderich nodded and started heading up the road, but after a few metres he turned around and smiled once more, "Thank you" He said.

Gilbert grinned back at him, pivoted round and headed home.

Some music was lying open on a stand near to the violin; it looked like Roderich had been playing shortly before he left the house. He looked at the piece, it was one he remembered playing with Roderich as a teenager. He pulled the bow out of the violin case and up to the strings of the instrument.

He began to play, he couldn't remember any of the notes and was concentrating quite hard on the sheet music when he heard a voice call out behind him.

"Hmph , you're out of practice."

Yay! A decently lengthy Chapter! I'm quite pleased with how this one turned out, especially the start. And only one flashback was involved, that may be a record XD

Anyway, I'll start writing Chapter 7 shortly, but I can't promise I'll always be able to update so quickly, especially when I'm actually at school (I have Focal Segmental Glomerulosclerosis, so I'm hardly ever at school; my parents are considering asking the school if I can resit year 10, I don't even now if that's legal in this country :'D)

Oh and to those who speak American English:

Pavement: Sidewalk

Plaster: Band-aid (I think XD)

As I said at the top, I adore getting reviews, so please do review, even if you only have negative things to say!