Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or anything of the sort. I know there was problems with the last chapter, but I fixed them! Happiness. Anyway, we had our friend Maddy sleep over, and spent the night drawing a comic book about, get this phantom thief florists! Awesome right. I lost the game. I have now formally associate my cousin with the game. So I lose. Terrible things though, I can no longer sing. Like seriously, I try the scale and get Do-Re-Mi-Fa and then no sound comes out. I've had throat problems for a while, but this is just disturbing. And now Anesan has put a ban on me singing. Distress. But whatever. I'll just write to hide the pain.

The song is Dream On, originally by Aerosmith, but I know it from Glee.

Seychelles: Madeline Desmarais, courtesy of XReikoHarumiX. I got a lot of suggestions, so I had our friend Maddy choose her favorite.

WANTED: Band name for Elizaveta, Natalia, Madeline, and Bela's band. Suggestions requested.

Campfire was surprisingly rather normal. They learned to sing the camp song, which was, as always, super corny, but Matthew enjoyed it. The sun on the brink of setting, and the various colors began to dance their way across the sky. At one point, they asked for people to volunteer to act out little skits about the camp rules, like that cell phones could only be used in lunch period and cabin time, or how bathing suits must be worn in the water at all times. Nothing too strict, although Matthew knew that probably every single one of those rules would be broken before his time there was up. Francis volunteered for one of the skits where he had to pretend to be an injured camper in which he overacted to an extreme that this serious skit became more like a comedy act.

Finally, at around 9:30, campfire was over. Not that it was that big of a deal, considering Matthew would be doing that exact thing every night. In addition to that, he was rather tired from the days events, and nothing seemed more inviting than climbing into a nice warm bed and drifting off into fruity dreamland. He blankly followed Gilbert back to the cabin, Gilbert blabbing the entire time about how awesome he was for doing god knows what. When they reached the cabin, Matthew immediately collapsed on the been he had been told was his.

"Whoa! This bed is so amazing." Matthew jumped in awe at how comfortable his mattress was. Nothing like he'd been expecting, which was a hard semi-plastic fake mattress that he'd heard so much about. He turned to his roommates, his smile falling with their various expressions, and felt himself turn red again. Antonio was smiling at him like an idiot, Francis gave him a stare that screamed molestation, and Gilbert just continued with his smug smirk that he constantly had plastered to his face. Matthew buried his face in the pillow the camp provided.

After a moment of silence, things went back to normal. "Dude, I can't believe Dad's making me take this damn dance class!" The unmistakable voice of Gilbert complained. Matthew kept his head buried in his pillow, but listened intently.

"I'm actually looking forward to the dance class. All those pretty girls absolutely begging to dance with me." There was Francis.

"I wish I could dance with Lovino, I'm doing swimming instead. Oh well, at least the pool's always a nice 81.3 degrees Fahrenheit." And Antonio. Matthew didn't quite understand why they needed a pool when they were on a lake, but he'd recently learned the world of the rich is way different than that of an average person. Then it hit him.

"Oh my god! I can't dance!" Matthew sprang up from his bed in horror, in the process, hitting his head on the Gilbert's bunk. Clutching his throbbing head, Matthew turned to look at his roommates, all staring at him as if they weren't sure whether to run and comfort him or laugh at him. Gilbert chose the latter.

"Oh god, you should see your face!" He sputtered, causing Matthew to glare at him. Of course that only made Gilbert laugh harder. Matthew spotted the instruments behind Gilbert. There was a drum set with a coke can resting on one of the drums, a bass just leaning against the wall, and a guitar case wide open in the middle of the floor.

"Ack!" Matthew ran over and began to fix things, starting by picking up the- luckily empty- coke can. "Don't you know how to take care of your instruments." He scolded. If there was one thing that got Matthew worked up, it was when people misused instruments.

"Mine is put properly away over there." Francis pointed to a keyboard case in the corner.

Matthew nodded."Why can't you guys be more like Francis?"

"Because the world doesn't need anymore French bastards perving it up." Gilbert replied, and Matthew couldn't help but agree.

"I resent that fact." Francis chimed in, mouth wide open in shock.

"No you don't!" Antonio chuckled.

"You're so right!" Francis grinned, dropping the whole 'offended' act and going back to his normal conceited self. Matthew put away the bass and began to move on to the guitar, but stopped when he saw it. He remembered Alfred looking at it online, begging their parents for it. Of course it was a little out of their price range, and Alfred eventually got over his rockstar dream and moved on to his newest obsession with football. But Matthew still secretly wanted that guitar, it was a lovely instrument, he loved all of those in the string category. Matthew thought of his acoustic at home. He sort of regretted not bringing it, but he knew it was for the best.

"Hey, who's guitar is this?" Matthew asked, not taking his eyes off the instrument.

"Nobody's really. I mean, I brought it, but our band doesn't currently have a guitarist." Gilbert explained. "I mean, Antonio plays the guitar, but he can't play lead and sing at the same time. Francis doesn't quite have the proper voice for our kind of music and even though my voice kicks ass, it's too hard to drum and sing at the same time. So we're just looking for a guitarist right now. Do you know anyone?"

Matthew responded without thinking. "Um, my brother tried for a little while, but he gave it up. But I got his guitar instead, so I guess it ended up okay." Before he even knew it, Gilbert had flown over to him and place both his hands on Matthew's shoulders. Was it wrong that Matthew felt his heart speed up and his face flush?

"You play guitar?" Gilbert stared at him in all seriousness. Matthew searched for his voice.

"S-sorta." He managed out, kicking himself on the inside for acting so strange. What was with him! Gilbert pushed Matthew back a little, but that was enough to have him lose his balance and tumble to the ground. When he got back up, Matthew found Gilbert was shoving the lovely guitar into his arms.

"Play." He ordered. Not even politely asked, ordered. There were so many things Matthew could say, refusing to play. But he could bring himself to speak up. It sounds crazy, but being around Gilbert made him want to just want to play nonstop. Violin, guitar, whatever it was, Matthew could just feel the music flowing through him. He wanted to sing and dance, no matter how stupid he looked. Of course he wouldn't, he would just stick with play a little.

Matthew began to play this one song he had learned. 'Dream On' it was. As soon as the vocal start began, Matthew opened his mouth to sing subconsciously.

"Every time when I look in the mirror

I see the lines on my face getting clearer

The past is gone

it went by, like dust to dawn

Isn't that the way

Everybody's got the dues in life to pay"

Gilbert joined in for the next verse, his voice almost overpowering Matthew's.

"I know nobody knows

where it comes and where it goes

I know it's everybody's sin

You got to lose to know how to win.

Half my life
is books written pages
live and love from fools and
from sages
You know it's true,OH
All these things come back to you "

Matthew began to sing louder, still completely oblivious to what he was doing.

"Sing with me, sing for the years
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
Sing with me, just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good lord will take you away"

As Matthew pulled into a guitar solo, Antonio looked at Francis with a look that said 'do you see what I see?' Francis, catching this, nodded. They both shrugged and decided to join in.

"Yeah, sing with me, sing for the year
sing for the laughter, sing for the tear
sing with me, just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away..."

Just as they started into the chorus, Matthew stopped, realizing he was getting way to into it, and worse yet, singing along! When he stopped playing guitar, the singers stopped too and just stared.

"Why'd ya stop?" Antonio innocently asked.

"My fingers hurt." Matthew left hand flew off the fingerboard. This was a complete lie, as Matthew's fingers were so calloused from violin playing that he could play for hours without any side-effect, but he had spoken without thinking. Still, the others bought it.

"Oh well, that's too bad." Francis shrugged and went back to his bed, picking up his cell phone and began texting some girl he'd got the number from earlier.

"Hey Matt, would you like to be our guitarist?" Gilbert asked. Matthew was dumbstruck.

"A-are you sure?" He stammered. "I'm not very good."

Antonio laughed. "Are you kidding me? You're even better than me, you can sing and play at the same time. I get too distracted by playing the complicated notes to think of two things at the same time." Matthew blushed. He'd gotten such praise today, which was so different from being completely invisible like normal.

"Well, I guess I could try, you know, if you guys don't mind." He replied sheepishly. Suddenly, he felt a yawn come on. "Well, I suppose I should probably get ready for bed."

"But it's only 10:30" Gilbert exclaimed.

"Well, you spend 3 hours on a plane in coach next to in front of a fussy toddler and next to an overweight man that smelled like fried chicken." Matthew commented on the way to get his toiletries and pajamas from his suitcase. The others gasped in horror, most likely at the thought of flying coach though. This would be a long night.

And done. Okay, so I'm going to camp Sunday, but I had to write this before I went. That and I watched Glee tonight and Glee means I have to write. That's just how I work, don't judge me. I should probably sleep, as my throat burns. Yeah, I might have maybe sang a little bit. But you guys don't understand! I can't go a day without singing, it's too hard! Oh well, I'll have to write when I get back from camp. I send my love to all of you, especially my reviewers ;)