A/N: Delayed update is delayed. Sorry 'bout that, guys. First, my internet was out, like, ALL FRIKKIN' DAY. Then, I had to go do some other stuff, and then I went to finish writing this. Like, sorry. D:

ALSO, I need a Beta. Badly. Any takers? :-)

ALSO #2, Whoever gets the 100th review gets a WHOLE chapter centered around their character. Because I want 100 reviews, and this POV thing is haaarrrrdddd...

ALSO #3, I don't wave accent writing skills. Use your fucking imaginations.

Characters Included: Minsk, Cartegena, Singapore, Wallonia, and Dublin

O.O.O.O

"Minsk, hey! Hey, are you even listenin' to me?"

The dark-haired boy snapped his head up from his desk, and looked at his friend attentively. "Err... Yes."

"Then, repeat what I said."

He smiled teasingly, "'Ey, ahrr joo efan listenin' ta mii?"

"Not funny," She laughed, though. "What I said was, I'm bored, you know? So, we should start a club. Like, oh, what's his name? Tall, scowl-y," she made an odd, swooping gesture around her head, "Science hair..."

"Science hair? Oh, mad-scientist hair? Virginia? But... That isn't a club. That's a Prefect Group."

"Do I look like I care?"

"No."

"Then let's make a club."

And so it went. A Dancing Club—though there were only a few members. Cartegena wasn't even sure why a few of them showed up—That attention-seeking Welsh girl and her lackey, Flintshire, and then Illinois followed by two tan female Freshman, and Alaska, who seemed to be the only one who actually didn't know how to dance correctly and wanted to learn. Why the others were there would remain a mystery for quite some time.

Well, not Illinois. "I'm going to challenge that Ass to a dance-off!"

Minsk sighed, this was going to be a long day.

O.O.O.O

Of course, after years of knowing her, Minsk was quite adept at the style she was showing to the other students. It seemed that her only way of movement was a dance—every step graceful and planned, as though her steady and decisive gait was itself an intricate waltz.

He wasn't sure when it had become romantic, more than platonic, or if had had ever been anything short of attraction—but now it was surely more than that. He loved her. Sometimes, it hurt because she was so damn oblivious, but he was still thankful for that.

He could still be her friend anyway, even if she never found out how he felt.

O.O.O.O

The door opened, for the first time since she'd been in the Detention Room. In stepped Little Miss Social-Pariah, Wallonia.

Singapore frowned. If anything, she considered herself neutral in the whole matter, but the shiny pin on her shirt said otherwise. Of course, she felt bad for Iowa, but it was really not her business anyway. She glanced to the front of the class, where England manned the class. He was looking at Harwich—who glared at the table in front of him, childishly grumpy. Singapore looked back to the room's newest addition.

Wallonia seemed a bit more... frantic-looking than before. She was always collected and cheerful, though bossy, and now she was just so not her. But, after everything Illinois had said about her, it was only to be expected.

She sat down quietly, disregarding the supervisor—England, because he'd lost a bet against the other teachers—and his somewhat pleasant greeting to slump in her chair and gaze boredly at her nails.

"Hello..."

"Bonjour," the girl greeted, and then added humorlessly, "What are you in for?"

"Acting 'violently' towards a teacher," Singapore replied dully. Wallonia smiled.

"Let's hope he deserved it, eh?"

A phone rang loudly before Singapore could reply. England looked around the room disapprovingly, especially at Harwich, who pouted in return, before he realized it was his own phone that was ringing. Really, who else would have his anthem as their ring tone?

"Hullo, who is this? ... Don't call me while I'm working! ... Oh, err... Bloody Hell, America!... You, WHAT? No. No. Fine... Ugh, I'll be there in a few minutes, git."

He looked to the class, as though he were assessing them. He stared at Singapore for a moment, and she stuck her tongue out at him, and he directed his attention to Harwich, who frowned up at him.

"You. Watch the class. Make sure nothing gets blown up," England said, looking at Dublin for a moment, then back to Harwich.

Harwich gave a curt nod, and glanced around the room. His eyes fell for a moment on Dublin, who was glaring at Wallonia, and then flickered back to their retreating teacher.

About two seconds after England left and locked the door, the class realized he left Harwich in charge. Though he was indeed England's child, he held no apparent similarities to his father, and was rather... incredibly irresponsible.

Dublin stood up, making a lot of unnecessary noise with his chair, and swung his suitcase—which was full of explosives—into the window, successfully breaking it.

"What are you doing?" Wallonia shrieked, jumping from her chair, eyes wide in shock.

"I don't intend on staying in a room with you people," he looked distastefully at Wallonia.

He jumped from the window. The rest of them, still in shock from the broken window, hesitated to rush around it for a moment. The moment passed, and yelps of 'We're on the second floor!' and 'What the hell does he think he's doing?'.

Singapore peered out the window curiously. There didn't appear to be any blood. And there was a huge, prickly rose bush below their window, maybe he fell...

No. Apparently, he landed quite well, seeing as how he was walking off, suitcase in tow. Singapore smiled lightly. Quirky boy. Arrogant, annoying, insufferable, and quirky.

Harwich stood up to look out as well.

"Two stories. I think some applause is in order!"

No one clapped.

"I see. Oh, well..."

"Hey..." Wallonia said, frowning, warily stepping over a few bits of broken glass, "Won't you get in trouble, with England? Weren't you supposed to keep us all in here?"

"Eh," he shrugged, "it's just another in a long list of disappointments. I've stopped caring a long time ago."

"Hm." Was all her input. Well, before he settled himself up to jump out the window along with his classmate. Then, she freaked out, "What are you doing?"

He laughed, and hoisted himself onto the ledge, carefully avoiding the jagged edges of the glass, "It's only two stories. I'll be fine." And he jumped.

He wasn't nearly as graceful as Dublin, and it was obvious that he had injured himself in his attempt.

"Who wants to take him to the infirmary?" Wallonia questioned, and the five remaining members of the detention group grumbled 'no' in response.

Singapore had the smallest of smiled painted on her lips as she said, "Oh, well. I'm sure he can manage."

O.O.O.O

Later, as Wallonia and Singapore made their way to the Girls' Dorm, Wallonia broke the silence.

"So, you like him, huh?"

"... What? Or, who?"

"Don't play dumb," Wallonia frowned, "England. You like him."

"Are you trying to play match-maker?" Singapore stopped in her tracks and stared at her under-classmate.

"Maybe I am," Wallonia said, dismissing Singapore's look, "It'll go better than my love-life has lately, I promise."

"... What?"

"Oh! Please, come," Wallonia scribbled on a piece of note paper from her bag, and handed it to the other girl, "here, after school tomorrow."

"...What?"

"I'll see you then. Maybe. Err, bye!" She gave a quick, parting smile and disappeared up the stairs to the Junior Girl's Dorm.

O.O.O.O

A/N: This took me far too long to write. Would've taken longer, if some people hadn't been... 'encouraging' me to keep writing it. Ash, Seamus, this is directed towards you.

Peace Out,

VstavajSonce