Disclaimer: I don't own APH.

IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BOTTOM! IF YOU DON'T READ I WILL KNOW AND I WILL COME AND FIND YOU!

Arthur stared.

Brick buildings surrounding a courtyard, metal flag-pole planted in the lush grass, ground scuffed and chipped from years of being worn away… How cliché.

Really, everything about this town was cliché, from the white stucco walls to the palm trees waving slightly in the breeze, to the cute shops all lined up in a long row. Everything was truly…fake, as though he was looking at a picture in some romantic story book, though he supposed he shouldn't have expected any less from Americans.

Florida, He thought, shifting uncomfortably in the blistering, humid heat, is the last place I'd like to be.

But back to the school.

Ah, yes…school. Most American books romanticized it, outlining some girl coming to a new school, and some incredibly hot boy showing her around…Arthur's darkest, deepest pleasure was those books, no matter how much he disapproved of them.

Yet school was nothing like this, of course. School was a nightmare, a living hell for everyone—including the teachers (except for the evil harpies who actually enjoyed torturing them).

He shifted again, and tried to block the sun with his hand. Not a bloody cloud in the sky, He thought in frustration, scowling deeply. And it's not even summer!

Arthur deeply missed London's dark, grizzly skies, opening up every few days to give its occupants a good deluge. Those were the days, he mused, when he'd pop open an old season of Doctor Who and watch all of the episodes, even the ones that he hated, which weren't that many. He'd whip up a few scones, put the kettle on, and curl up in his emerald green blanket and watch the TV, most likely falling asleep around 11:00 o'clock…

Riiiiiing! The bell decided to announce its presence, scaring life out of him.

Planting a calming hand over his heart, England took several deep breaths before straightening up again, ignoring the students that rushed by him.

Or he would've ignored them, if one of them hadn't run into him, knocking him to the ground.

"Um…oops. Sorry. Here, let me help you."

Arthur looked up to see a blonde American sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. He was tall and lanky, just a bit awkward, and was wearing some old, nasty WW2 bomber jacket. His blonde hair was mostly neat, except for a strange piece of hair that curved up in the front. What he noticed most, though, were the stunning blue eyes that peaked out from behind thick lenses; they were incredibly intense, and there was a small gleam of intelligence, something Arthur would never have noticed if he hadn't been looking.

That's when he noticed all the other students giving him a wide berth, as though he had some sort of disease. Well then, Arthur thought irritably, I seem to have been getting friendly with the local nerd.

"I'm quite alright, thanks." He replied gruffly, bending down to pick up his papers.

"Oh…okay. Wait, dude, you're British?"

Arthur flinched. I shouldn't have spoken!

"Um…yeah."

"That's so cool!" The boy's voice cracked, allowing his pitch to reach a tone that no voice should reach. "Dude, do you play an instrument?"

An instrument…? Arthur shrugged. "Yeah, I play piano. But why…?"

"Great!" He was cut off when the boy grabbed his hand and began dragging him along. "Oh, by the way, my name's Alfred! What's yours?"

Arthur looked around warily as the other students began pointing at them and whispering, before sighing loudly. He'd just have to ditch this cuckoo later… "My name's Arthur."


"That's Francis, he plays guitar. Ivan plays drums, but Yao plays all the other eccentric instruments…Gilbert used to play bass, I don't know what we're going to do without him…Yong Soo used to play piano, but now we have you!"

Arthur stared dumbly at the circle of people, who were all watching him with bored/curious expressions on their faces.

"And everyone…" Alfred grabbed Arthur's shoulders and shoved him forward. "This is our resident Brit. He plays piano."

Yao gave him a friendly smile, "Hello, aru. I'm sorry about Alfred—he means well, but…" Well, a least he seemed normal enough.

"Oh, Alfred, did you even ask him if it was okay?" Francis (Whom Arthur was liking less and less—bloody frog) sighed, flipping his hair over his shoulder. "Oh dear, Alfred, I'm afraid you'll never become big if you keep shirking your manners…"

Perhaps it was because Alfred's face was looking so crestfallen. Perhaps it was because Francis sounded so patronizing. He didn't know what it was, but he gave them a tight smile and said, "No, I don't mind. I'll think about joining, though. Perhaps you could…demonstrate?"

Alfred beamed, while Yao and Francis shook their heads. The big, bulky boy on the drums just kind of smiled at them all creepily.

"How about we do the cover?" The exuberant blonde was already pulling out a sheet of music.

Yao frowned and glanced at the floor. "You know, aru, this would be the perfect time for Yong Soo to come in."

And that's precisely what happened.

The door slammed open, and was accompanied by loud yelling and the pounding of feet. After only a moment of silence, there was a loud cry, "Hey, you Junior baby's!" And another of, "ANIKI!"

Two college students walked in—well, the white haired guy kind of swaggered, and the teen dressed in loose Asian clothing kind of ran-skipped, and all Arthur could do was stare. They both were very strange looking; the white-haired guy was obviously an albino, while the Asian boy looked like he was jacked up on red bull or something.

The swaggering teen, who was carrying a black guitar case on his back, immediately strutted over to Alfred, while the black-haired boy jumped on top of Yao—or, in his own words, his 'aniki'. Whatever that meant.

"Hey, kid. You guys living without us?" I hadn't been certain before, but now I knew, without a doubt, that this albino was one of those cocky arrogant idiots.

"Geez, Gilbert, perfect timing." Alfred grinned widely at 'Gilbert'. "See, we got a new pianist, and we were going to show him our cover song, but…"

"No bass, no piano. Screwed." Gilbert nodded in understanding, already slinging the case over his shoulder.

"Basically."

"No sweat, kid." He pulled out a black guitar with white and yellow flames and strummed a major chord, then sent Alfred a reassuring smirk. "I'm sure little Yong won't mind playing something for you…"

Yong Soo, who'd been babbling away to Yao the entire time, perked up when he heard his name. Yao, who had a long-suffering look on his face, grasped the teen's collar and mumbled something into his ear. He nodded once, smiled widely, and practically hopped over to the piano.

Alfred glanced around to make sure everyone was set up, before turning back to Arthur, and striding over to him. Arthur, feeling a little awkward about their close proximity, backed up and tried to ignore his blush. A hand closed around his wrist, eliciting a small squeak, before he was pulled to a chair at the head of the room. Only now did he notice that the rest of the instruments were placed in a semi-circle around the chair; someone, probably Yao, had probably anticipated his arrival.

"Okay, okay, okay. Sit down, shut up, and listen!"

The rest of the band members either rolled their eyes or let out long, breathy sighs (except for Ivan, who just kept smiling creepily) at Alfred's rudeness, before getting ready.

There was a moment of silence, like the pause before the plunge, before Francis began to stroke a tune on his guitar. There was a sort of mystic quality to the tune; there was obviously some sort of sound alter. Then, Ivan entered, a deep thrumming noise from his bass drum…and Alfred, who'd been tapping away, began to sing.

I'm just a step away,

I'm just a breath away,

Losing my faith today,

Yao jumped in, his voice a high tenor. After that, though, Arthur just listened, losing himself in the incredible music; the tones of the synth, the pounding of the drums, the sound of the guitar, the low, steady beat of the bass, and Alfred and Yao's gorgeous duet…this was truly music. He had to admit, Alfred, while a complete idiot, was a divine singer. Yao was good, but it was nothing compared to Alfred. The Chinese teen, however, wasn't just singing; he was also taking out strange instruments, and playing them at the exact moment where they would sound best.

Falling off the edge today.

I am just a man

Not superhuman

I'm not superhuman

Someone save me from the hate

It's just another war

Just another family torn

Falling from my faith today

Just a step from the edge

Just another day in the world we live

I need a hero to save me now

I need a hero, save me now

I need a hero to save my life

A hero will save me just in time

I've gotta fight today

To live another day

Speaking my mind today

My voice will be heard today

I've gotta make a stand

But I am just a man

I'm not superhuman

My voice will be heard today

It's just another war

Just another family torn

My voice will be heard today

It's just another kill

The countdown begins to destroy ourselves

I need a hero to save me now

I need a hero, save me now

I need a hero to save my life

A hero will save me just in time

I need a hero to save my life

I need a hero, just in time

Save me just in time

Save me just in time

Who's gonna fight for what's right?

Who's gonna help us survive?

We're in the fight of our lives

And we're not ready to die

Who's gonna fight for the weak?

Who's gonna make 'em believe?

I've got a hero, I've got a hero

Living in me

I'm gonna fight for what's right

Today I'm speaking my mind

And if it kills me tonight

I will be ready to die

A hero's not afraid to give his life

A hero's gonna save me just in time

I need a hero to save me now

I need a hero, save me now

I need a hero to save my life

A hero will save me just in time

(I need a hero)

Who's gonna fight for what's right?

Who's gonna help us survive?

(I need a hero)

Who's gonna fight for the weak?

Who's gonna make 'em believe?

I've got a hero

I need a hero

A hero's gonna save me just in time.

Alfred and Yao finished together, and Yong Soo played some sort of riff that just put the entire piece in a little box with a pretty red bow wrapped around it, Arthur jumped up, clapping loudly. "Bravo!" He called, grinning widely. He was, quite frankly, stunned. Arthur had expected to be some sort of wannabe beginner band, trying to get big on nothing but a few semi-decent performers; however, this was not the case. They were incredible!

Alfred grinned sheepishly, while Gilbert did an over-exaggerated bow. "You think so?"

"I know so." Arthur said firmly, and then glanced over at the two older students. "Why don't you guys just quit college and continue this band? It most certainly doesn't need me."

"Well," Yao said awkwardly, while Yong Soo looked slightly crestfallen. "Gilbert's going to join the army, so he can't stay here, and Yong Soo is moving back to Korea."

Gilbert slapped Alfred on the back, before walking over to Francis, murmuring something to him; the blonde nodded, and began fiddling with his red guitar. Gilbert nodded, satisfied, and unzipped his guitar case with practiced ease, slipped the bass in, and walking out the door.

Yong Soo reached over and hugged Yao, and withdrew quietly, before jumping over to Alfred and hugging him—and to Arthur's surprise, Yong Soo even wrapped his arms around him. Arthur didn't even have time to protest, though, because the hyperactive Korean was already out the door.

Ivan, who'd been silent the entire time, cleared his throat loudly after the awkward display. Arthur jumped.

"So are you joining?" The voice was thick with a Russian accent.

Arthur looked at Alfred's hopeful face, and smiled softly.

"Yes."

8)

The band is called the Allies, by the way.

Alright, now next chapter is going to involve the audience! It's basically a chapter with nothing but the rules to follow in the UN. For example: 8. Alcohol isn't allowed in the meeting room. I've got a long list already, but I also want your help! Just send in the rule, and I will post it in the next chapter. The rule has to be sort logical (for instance, 'There must be a make-out contest every other meeting' is not logical.). Thanks!

While we're on the subject, I'd like to ask a question: IF I WERE TO TURN ONE ONE-SHOT INTO A STORY, WHICH ONE WOULD YOU CHOOSE? Out of all the ones I've already posted, of course. Thanks!

IceEckos12