Arthur Kirkland
Montreal, Quebec
October 27, 2163
"Augh... I'll never drink again..." I groaned, my throbbing head in my hands.
Saying it hardly means anything... I thought, sighing and going into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and thought that I saw the faintest bit of Brittania in my face. I was mistaken; my face was still Peter's.
My cellphone rang and I picked it up, flipping it open and putting it to my ear.
"Hello, this is Arthur Kirkland, how may I help you?" I said, still staring at my reflection.
"Hi, this is Mr. Andrew Kirkland's office. We're calling to tell you that a Peter Kirkland came here, looking for you. We gave him the wrong directions as per your instructions," said a womans voice.
"I need to speak with Andrew," I stated, my face draining of blood.
"Yes, sir, of course," the woman said.
There was a moment of silence and then, "Hello?" growled a deep voice.
"Andrew, where did you send Peter?"
"To Rome." the voice grumbled, "I decided that the best place for him to be away from you is in Rome."
"Unless none of the nations are in their homes; I'm at a world meeting right now, so I can tell you that, besides you, Daniel, Alexander, and Alexandra, they're all here."
"Son of a bitch!" it was a low hiss rather than a shout, "Why didn't you tell me that there was a world meeting this month?"
"I did. I told you twice a day, consistantly, since about 3 months ago when I found out."
"Damn it, Arthur! Peter's going to find out where you are from Feliciano's boss!"
"I'm in Canada and Feliciano's passport wasn't used to get here. He and Ludwig got a ride from Alfred and didn't use their passports except to get to America."
Andrew was silent for a moment, "I'm really sorry, Arthur..."
"Andrew, don't worry..."
"But... he hurt you so much... and I gave away where you are..."
"Don't worry, Big brother..." I felt myself beginning to cry and my voice cracked when I said, "It wasn't so bad actually... it didn't hurt as much as it could've..." and if he decides to beat me again... I'll just let him kill me... it's not like I have much to live for... I thought.
A part of my mind that I rarely if ever used for thought spoke up, you still have your friends...
What friends? I asked myself.
Matthew and Alieu... they think of you as their closest friend... and Alfred... he trusted you with every one of his deepest secrets... They're your friends... they trust you...
No. They'll leave me. Forget about me. Where were they when Peter beat me until I could hardly move? Where were they when he raped me?
They didn't know... You never told them... Never told them how much Peter scared you... You thought, 'Gentlemen never ask for help' and then you just took it without doing anything about it...
I couldn't do anything...
