ALL FOR ONE, ONE FOR ALL
A/N: Blah. XP Stupid writer's block.
Giving me MONTHS of NADA ideas.
Anyway, I just finally decided to do Lizzie's past foster-dads flash backs of her. ^^ So, yeah! As for going back to the Lizzie/France concept, I'm still trying to think up ideas for how sweet Lizzie leaves or has a surprise "You Get To Stay! :D" party thrown. Sadly, I'm on the side of epic sadness right now. ^^"
Also, ignore the first chapter edited-ness. it stinks and the original is saved on Italy's computer (I THINK…) 'cause I don't have it. So yeah, I'm going to try to get the original back on, but I DO like the second chapter all nice and edited. Not spelling wise or grammatically of course! We all know I stink at those! :D
Also, I'm going to delete all my notices -except my OC and pet ones, those will stay- so yeah. I'm going to TRY to stop them. My favorite author just did one and hasn't been writing that story since, all her other ones but NOT the one I CARE about. XP So yeah, I'll try to not write anymore. Just wanted to let you know! :)
Anyway, it's just nice to be back baby! 8D
(And yes, I'm 85% sure I've gone over the edge. AND I LOVE IT MY FRIENDS!)
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia but I DO own some nice jelly beans that taste like soda! :D
SONG OF THE CHAPTER: I'm Still Here By The Goo Goo Dolls (I Personally Like The Treasure Planet Version Best :D) ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
(ROMANO'S POV)
I looked out the window of my apartment, which was under the pseudonym (fake name) "Abatangelo Gallo", showing me a clear picture of the famed Coliseum. I liked to come here when I was under stress, in other words; "Abatangelo" comes to his apartment every other day. All of my private information was under that name; everything from a private mailbox to a FaceBook and MySpace account. Sometimes I wished I was Abatangelo all the time and that Romano was just a figment of my imagination instead of vice-versa.
I sighed, trying to get my mind off the letter that had been in Abatangelo's mailbox.
They knew.
And I didn't like it.
"Dear Mr. Romano, September 4th, 2010
There is to be a meeting at the Loire Castles, starting at 3:30 PM, concerning Elizabet Anna Cheri's wellbeing with her guardian Francis "France" Bonnefoy. There is evidence that the girl is being treated unfairly and unjustly. Such is the case that we invite you along with the other countries whom have passed on Elizabet Anna Cheri to another. Mr. Francis "France" Bonnefoy's overall credit on his care of Elizabet Anna Cheri will be completely up to you and the other countries. And if Mr. Francis "France" Bonnefoy is unfit to care for the child then we pick the next guardian rather than choose one at random with the Computer Country 2.500. We shall take all responsibilities to get you to the Loire Castles safety. Please contact our number if you are unable to come. We hope to hear from you soon.
Signed, The World Council Secretary"
It didn't matter if my plan worked, that Lizzie was being taken away from that pervert. I should be glad, but I felt cr*ppy about what I did; calling that man to find the dirt on France/Lizzie, along with much more. I was an idiot. Whatever.
The only thing I really cared about at this exact moment is my sanity, about nobody finding out about the Abatangelo side of me. That I lived with, liked, and acted like the commoners. I wanted my sanity kept. But they knew.
D*MN IT! NOBODY KNEW ABOUT THIS! NOT EVEN MY SERVANTS! MY CHAFFEUR! NOBODY D*MN IT!
I am a question to the world
Not an answer to be heard
Or a moment that's held in your arms
And what do you think you'd ever say?
D*MN IT! HOW did they find out about Abatangelo? I was always careful! I wore hats over my hair, sunglasses over my eyes, and I never wore anything even CLOSE to my usual suits, or even to my usual hang-outs or even spent more money than a commoner would. GAWD D*MN IT! HOW?
I won't listen anyway
You don't know me
And I'll never be what you want me to be
I grumbled swears to The World Council, deciding that maybe a walk would calm me down better than being stuck here with no distractions. I walked over to my kitchen and quickly grabbed a banana to eat on the way.
And what do you think you'd understand?
I'm a boy, no, I'm a man
You can't take me and throw me away
And how can you learn what's never shown?
Yeah, you stand here on your own
They don't know me
Cause I'm not here
I looked outside, it was sunny though the trees were shaking, thus telling me it was windy. I walked by a mirror as I went to my closet to grab a light jacket. I was wearing a black shirt over an orange one, a pair of colorful 70's headphones, and worn jeans with a pair of red/white sneakers. Abatangelo liked music, blasting Mozart was the best, any sandwich as long as it had tomatoes, James Bond movies being played by Sean Connery, and black cats with green eyes, gold or different colored eyes creped him out. He hated any alcoholic drink and drank almost any soda instead (except for Crush), the popular Harry Potter and Twilight series (though he was tolerant of the Harry Potter movies), and disliked bloodhounds or any dogs with good noses.
I put on a light black/gray jacket, zipping it up to the center of my chest. I put my hand in my jacket pocket, always keeping a pair of sunglasses there just in case I forgot to grab a pair on the way out. I had found a nice pair reminding me of the pair James Bonds in Goldfinger and a hat that reminded me of Indiana Jones. Abatangelo would approve. Romano would refuse to wear them unless they were the original pair worn in the movies. Just between you and me, Abatangelo was the better half, not NEARLY as demanding.
And I want a moment to be real
Wanna' touch things I don't feel
Wanna' hold on and feel I belong
And how can the world want me to change?
They're the ones that stay the same
They don't know me
Cause I'm not here
I walked towards my window and climbed out the old fire-escape onto the sidewalk nearby. The wind threatening to whip away my Indiana Jones hat, I placed a hat on top of it to force it to stay. I continued walking, tucking my free hand into my pocket to grab my banana. Oh, how wonderful bananas tasted when they weren't prepared by "the best chef in the eastern surface of the Earth" or test-tasted by food-tasters. Nice and a week old, the edges slightly bruised and brown, making them taste sweeter.
And you see the things they never see
All you wanted I could be
Now you know me and I'm not afraid
And I want to tell you who I am
Can you help me be a man?
I couldn't help but let my mind wander to the days when everything was this simple, where the only thing that worried me was if the girls found me hotter than my little brother. The days that Danae would visit it me after summer was over but before school started. Danae had a much different life than Elisabet, I thought as I took another sweet bite of my banana. Danae was allowed to live with his parents, visit whatever country he wished, whenever. Live wherever he wanted once he moved out, where he decided to bury his father when he died, or his mother when she joined him, no press would judge him saying "oh, he loves this country more", "oh, he hates this country", "he wishes they were dead", "he wants them to rule the world". The press would never treat Lizzie that way. If she had a boyfriend (heaven forbid) and he came from… Egypt let's say, they would go on and on about how much she obviously loved Egypt or how Egypt might be paying her to date this man. And if she married (oh gawd), she'd be hounded forever. Lizzie would never be alone, not one secret would be allowed to be kept. They would find out. It would make front page.
They can't break me
As long as I know who I am
I threw the banana peel away harshly.
I remembered the day that Danae was put to death. Every country knew he deserved death, along with his wife, but no one WANTED them to die. But if they didn't, then the press would hound THEM, the countries. We were all selfish son of a b*tch b*astards. That's what they all were. Germany, Germany was the genius, he spoke out saying they did nothing wrong. People fell in love cross-nationally all the time! Why should THEY be punished?
Because of this h*ll devils they were. Selfish, egotistical, envious b*stards. There was only one constant problem that every genius had; they were surrounded by a world of idiots. They were. Germany knew it, it had happened during that emergency meeting. Romano was a bit smarter than those b*stards, despite that he had regretfully agreed with them, agreed with a murder of a best friend, a good man, an honest man. Romano had gone and met with "Kaia", Danae's lover; Abatangelo had been born that day. He remembered thinking the girl was magic, she was smiling gently, not angry with him agreeing she and her husband should die. She had her small baby in her arms, everything except her arms in shackles incase she needed to feed the baby. Her husband, Romano's friend, had been tortured during the time she had been treated like a regular prisoner. The reason being because the baby was still too young to live without its mother's milk. If they had caused her to somehow stop producing the milk, then the baby they had decided to keep alive, would die. So she was treated normally, far away as possible from her lover. But, meeting Kaia; that was a different story for another day.
And I want a moment to be real
Wanna' touch things I don't feel
Wanna' hold on and feel I belong
And how can the world want me to change?
They're the ones that stay the same
I looked up at the red, yellow, and gold leaves above me. If Danae was alive, he'd be here… I sighed. Gawd, that "yes" had been a mistake. His biggest regret.
I glanced behind me, hearing a man yell something. I stopped walking and turned around completely, blinking at the fact that it turned out my Indiana Jones hat had somehow blown away without my noticing. Oh well, Romano would send Abatangelo a copy of it tomorrow after the meeting. Maybe a simple souvenir too, a beret or a bottle of wine perhaps?
"Pizza in una tazza in vendita! 3.99 per ogni tazza! Pizza in una tazza!" [Translation: Pizza in a cup for sale! 3.99 per cup! Pizza in a cup!]
They can't see me
But I'm still here
I smiled weakly and began walking towards him, handing him a few euros [dollars], in exchange for a "pomodoro, peperonii pizza-pie". [tomato, peperonii pizza-pie]
The vendor happily gave it to me, offering me my change. Still smiling I shook my hand, telling him to keep it.
"Grazie signore gentile." [Thank you kind sir]
"Non lo menzionano il mio amico." [Don't mention it my friend]
They can't tell me who to be
Cause I'm not what they see
Yeah, the world is still sleepin'
Another thing I liked about Abatangelo, he was normal. He was kind and simple. I smiled as I put the headphones over my ears, free of the hat that would've easily gotten in the way, and pressed the "play" button on my CD player, playing Mozart's Sonata 16 K545 3rd Mov at full blast. I took a greedy bite of my "Pizza in a cup". It was a small pizza inside a sno'-cone like cup, the name of the company in large letters (surprise, surprise) "Pizza In A Cup Co."
While I keep on dreamin' for me
And their words are just whispers and lies
That I'll never believe
I felt at such peace as I walked through the firework colored trees, the wind gently playing with my hair and coat, Mozart's music playing gently, my mouth warm and happy with the sweet tastes of my pizza. The World Council out of my mind, my memories of Elisabet at peace, and no bright flash to make me worry about every step I take, that an answer to a question may be wrong, the comments they'd have if they heard me stammer, saw me sweat. Such peace.
The other countries should try this.
Having an "Abatangelo Gallo".
And I want a moment to be real
Wanna' touch things I don't feel
Wanna' hold on and feel I belong
And how can they say I'll never change?
I looked up at the Coliseum, the exact historical site I could see through my 2 star, one room apartment window. The nice thing about Abatangelo was that I could have any past, do anything in the present, and have no worries about either. I smiled and took a few pictures with my year-plan cell phone, melting in with the other crowds.
I tucked the phone back in my pocket, taking a hearty bite of my pizza, and made my way back to my apartment, maybe stopping at a video-rental shop on the way. I was in the mood of "The Best of Youth" or maybe "From Russia With Love", "The Last Crusade".
They're the ones that stay the same
I'm the one now
'Cause I'm still here
I walked back to the hotel and this time went in through the front door.
"Ciao a tutti Abatangelo, io non ti ho visto andare via. Come è stato la passeggiata?" the front-desk girl, Annalisa, helloed happily [Hi Abatangelo, I didn't see you leave. How was your walk?]
"Huh." I said blinking, just realizing she was there
She jumped over the desk, using its counter as a seat.
"Dove vorresti andare?" she asked [Where'd you go?]
Annalisa fit her name to a T, her name meaning "God is my oath" along with "favor; grace", well, she fit the first part to a T anyway. Annalisa had curly blonde hair that stopped underneath her ears, two thin, front parts going down to her shoulders. She had big brown doe eyes and always wore white, today wearing a white t-shirt with short jeans and a red jacket tied around her waist. She always wore her gilded gold cross around her wrist, fitting the "God is my oath" part of her name, but her being more clumsy than an ox in a china shop having a spaz-attack.
I have had Abatangelo as a part of me for over seven years, and living in this apartment for six of them, Annalisa working here since she was a child. Her mother and father owned the hotel though her father was dead and her mother was presently in a nearby hospital for the third year in a row, being there a year before with a short six month break. Annalisa and Abatangelo have been friends since then.
"Uh, solo il Colosseo di nuovo Annalisa." I shrugged [Uh, just the Coliseum again Annalisa]
Annalisa laughed, her laughter reminded me blissfully of Mozart, "Oh, Abatangelo, tu e quel palazzo sono tanto vicino come una carta di una matita!" [Oh, Abatangelo, you and that old building are closer than a paper to a pencil!]
I chuckled along with her. Every time I went for a walk, I always went to the Coliseum and took about pictures with my cell phone. So I owned about 5,457 photos of the building.
I crumpled up the empty cup and threw it into the metal wastebasket next to Annalisa.
"Tre punti!" she laughed, putting her hands up as a "Y" [Three points!]
I laughed along with her as I sat down next to her. We talked about little things, from our opinion on politics to our favorite recipes; mine being tomatoes. (Tomato Recipe: Take a small seed, put it in the ground, water it, let the sun shine on it, POOF, you got yourself a tomato. Either that or pay 75 cents for it from a vendor.)
Annalisa put her hands on her knees, her fingers intertwined, her eyes were soft and she asked me softly, "Abatangelo, che cosa stai cercando qui? Oltre alla vista Colosseo in ogni finestra, perché restare qui? In questo momento, sei il mio unico residente, non viene nessuno fino alla prossima estate. Perché sei qui?" [Abatangelo, what are you looking for here? Other than the Coliseum view in every window, why do you stay here? Right now, you're my only resident, nobody comes until next summer. Why are you here?]
I sat there, taking a sudden interest in my sneakers. They had cost me about 2 euros since they were used.
"…Io non lo so ... ti dirò quando ho capirlo." […I don't know… I'll tell you when I figure it out.]
I'm the one
Cause I'm still here
I'm still here
I'm still here
I'm still here