Como estas mi amigos/as? :D Lo siento por la espera :3 Podrías entender a yo? Ja, ja, voy a vivir en Inglaterra cuando sea mayor :3 (dijiste este múltiplo tempos…) Disfruta :D

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Alfred grinned as he approached a large window in the airport they had just touched down in—the sight outside was rather impressive, though he did have one question. "Hey Iggy, why are all of the buildings so short?" he asked, turning to look curiously at his guitarist of a boyfriend as he stopped next to the American.

Out the window, they got a rather impressive sight of the Eiffel Tower, though, the airport was kind of close, so the top of the window wasn't exactly enough to see the rest of the large steel structure. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and bent forward so he could see the top of the Eiffel Tower.

"Buildings are restricted to seven floors," Arthur remarked flatly and Alfred cocked an eyebrow, a bit mesmerized at why that was the case. Arthur then huffed and shook his head, placing a hand on his hip. "Unfortunately, Hollywood doesn't listen to that…(1)" he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"How do you know that?" Alfred asked. "You and Mattie a so flippin' smart…" he then bowed his head and felt a rain storm letting loose above his head.

As Alfred, sulked, Arthur shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "My history teacher's a nut. Ugh…especially for the French—though I can't see why they're so fascinating…" he shook his head once more before glancing over to Francis who was currently flirting with a few girls (surprisingly, since he'd stopped flirting according to Alfred), all four of them speaking in French. Matthew seemed to just notice it and stormed over to the group, grabbing Francis harshly by the ear and dragging him off.

Alfred tugged out his phone, turned it on and immediately began texting someone. A bit interested in what Alfred was doing, Arthur leant over so he could see what the American was doing. "Who're you texting Al?"

Alfred smiled at the nickname before becoming a tad more serious. "Feliciano's having a bit of a problem back in Spain," he then shook his head. "It's…complicated, I think I already explained a bit of it to you, but Feli thinks he saw Lovino, his brother I think, with Ludwig, you know who he is. So I went to talk with Ludwig with Feli and a bit later, I think after Scott took you, he thought he saw Lovino and Ludwig together again. Antonio's kinda troubled by it too, but he's 'getting away' with Gilbert and Frenchie over there as you can see," he jabbed his shoulder over his shoulder at the three, Gilbert currently attempting to strangle Francis with his shirt, Antonio having pinned the flailing, wavy haired blond onto the ground.

"Pfft, to be truthful, it kind of looks like Gilbert and Antonio are trying to rape him," Arthur snorted, watching as Matthew looked like he was trying to decide whether he should interfere or not. Alfred instantaneously returned his attention to his cellular when it began vibrating again. He frowned a bit at the reply Feliciano had sent him.

"Dude, quit bothering with Feli! This is your break!" Gilbert announced as he managed to gag Francis with his shirt which he had removed. "Come rape Frenchie with us!" he then continued with a huge grin and Matthew turned a bit red. Alfred simply stared blankly back at the struggling three, not exactly knowing how he should react. "Fine, be that way~!"

"Mm mm! Ond isen oo im!" Francis wailed, voice muffled by the shirt. The three girls he had just been flirting with were currently watching, two of them plugging their noses while the third watched curiously. Alfred grinned at the French teen just to make him think things. "Ow! Arefoh of mah brokeh arm!"

"Come on guys, you can rape him in the hotel," Alfred chuckled, waving a hand in the air as he turned for the exit. "Just drag him, I don't think he's very heaving giving how damn skinny he is."

"I think he's fine…" Matthew muttered, blush deepening as he said that. He then followed after Alfred, Arthur soon following the Canadian drummer as he turned to glance over his shoulder expectantly at the trio.

"…Just wait a moment, we'll figure out how to get some handcuffs without him escaping."

III

June 19

Paris, France

I'll laugh if that bastard Scott is still in Spain. –Happy face drawn here-

Ah! We're in France, it's better than I thought it was going to be. Dude, that Eifel tower's fucking huge! I didn't know it was THAT big! I wanna get closer and see how tall it is from the ground. Kinda like that clock in London. –Smiley face drawn here- Oh, and I want to see…I dunno what it's called, but I'm gonna go sightseeing with Artie! I'll write it down later when I learn what it's called. –Smiley face drawn here-

Frenchie is being raped by Gilbort (I call him that because it's funny) and Mr. Spanish dude as I write. That's just…just a really funny though, I mean, it's FRANCIS. Just…ha, ha, it's funny. Oh man, I'm totally gonna call them the Bad Touch Trio, it totally fits them, thought it up just as I saw them dragging Francis in, hand cuffed by the ankles and wrists. Oh God, that's so funny. –Amused face drawn here-

I'll write more when I get in my room. –Smiley face drawn here-

"Ah! Look at this! Even though we're only in a seven floor hotel, we still got a nice view—check it out Artie!" Alfred grinned excitedly, glancing out the window. True, you didn't exactly get the best sight of the Eiffel Tower since most of it was cut off by the top of the window, but hey, it was better than nothing—he didn't even think Matthew and Francis's room had a sight of said structure. Poor suckers.

Looking down, he saw Gilbert, Antonio and a now restraint free Francis running out of the hotel, Francis being chased by the two. Alfred wasn't very surprised with how fast Francis was running giving that he used to be on the track team for school. He grinned, he now knew what else to add to his journal entry of the day.

Plopping himself onto the only bed in the room, Alfred opened his notebook happily and pulled out a pencil. Arthur seated himself next to the American, reading what he had already written and snickering to himself as he read Alfred's words along with pointing out that Alfred spelt 'Eiffel' wrong. With a 'shut up', Alfred returned to writing. "Aren't journals supposed to be private Iggy?"

Frenchie, Billshit and Mr. Spanish dude are off to wreck havoc on Paris. I wonder if they'll land themselves in an article in the tabloids, kind of like how Frenchie and I did in London. That was fun, ah, good memories…Anyways! Yeah, I can just see it, I mean, it's…it's just THEM. They're just crazy and shit and just stuff like that. And Gilbort will never catch Frenchie, 'cause once he's running, damn, he's running.

Hm, maybe I should spray paint the big clock in London onto a bridge somewhere since Frenchie did an Eiffel tower somewhere in London according to him. Nah, Artie will whoop my ass if I do (eeeey, that doesn't sound so bad~).

"Alfred!"

"Ow! Ha, ha! Sorry, sorry…"

Whatever, Artie isn't in the mood. Well, I really don't have much else to write. We're having a concert tomorrow, though I can't pronounce the name…it's in French and French words make no sense, they sound NOTHING like Spanish words (and I thought French and Spanish were supposed to sound familiar, though when I was listening to Feliciano talking in Italian one day, I could understand almost everything he was saying). Oh, Artie just said it was some Zénith de Paris or something…Here, I'll grab my laptop and look at a picture of it.

Damn, it looks pretty trippy and freaking awesome, didn't know the French could pull something like that off. –Epic happy face drawn here- Let's see, this and the O2 are my favorite so far. Mattie will like this. –Happy face drawn here- That's all I have to write right now.

-Detailed drawing of the Eiffel Tower drawn here-

Arthur peeked over Alfred shoulders and his eyebrows raised when he saw the half done drawing of the Eiffel Tower in Alfred's notebook. "Wow Al, you're pretty good at drawing—you plan on doing something with it?" he asked, plopping onto his stomach next to Alfred who smiled at him.

"Yeah, I try to draw something for each journal entry—see?" he opened to a different page to show the half-finished anime style drawing of them. "I started this one, but didn't feel like finishing it—maybe I should finish it later," he closed the notebook and dropped it on the floor. "And do something with it? Like what?"

"Well I don't know, just sell it or something," Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "It's another way to get money since this whole band thing doesn't get you paid all that well at the moment."

"Ugh, that really sucks ya know?" Alfred huffed, rolling off of the bed and standing up. With a grin, he brushed off the nonexistent dust from his shirt and motioned for Arthur to stand as well. "Wanna go sightseeing with me? I mean, nobody really knows us here—I think—and we're allowed to walk around and stuff like that and we have nothing to do, so I thought we could go walk around town. There were a few things I wanted to see too."

Arthur muttered something under his breath before perking up once more. "Uh, sure, we can go walk around a bit."

III

"Holy hell, look at this beautiful babe!" Gilbert piped excitedly, holding up a guitar. "Oh man, I love the colors and the shape! God, I want it so bad now! Here, Antonio ma man, shred for me!" he shoved the instrument into Antonio's hands.

"Uh…it doesn't exactly sound like 'shredding' when I'm not on an amp…" he muttered, looking around for a good looking amplifier. Gilbert huffed and walked off, likely searching for an amplifier that had the capability of deafening someone.

"Dude, totally found one!" he returned, so he could herd the Spaniard to the amplifier he found fit for the guitar. "Now shred," he demanded with a toothy grin, sticking the cord into the stringed instrument. Antonio huffed and began playing multiple chords, Gilbert turning up the volume to painful levels with how small the shop was. "Shred like West does! Go, go Antonio!"

III

Francis grinned when he spotted Gilbert and Antonio sulking outside of a guitar shop, Antonio muttering about something while Gilbert was glaring into the window at the shopkeeper who was currently glaring back at him. "I'm not surprised that you guys got kicked out so early~" he snickered and Gilbert snapped his attention in Francis's direction.

"Oh, shit…" he turned and high tailed it out of there as Gilbert chased after the French teen, wailing 'I've finally found you!' at the top of his lungs. Even though many of them didn't exactly understand English, those that did sent looks of horror at the two as Gilbert screamed about raping Francis when it was obviously a joke. They didn't care if they landed in the tabloids and a French police station, this was, apparently, their idea of fun.

"Mein Gott, you're fast! You make up for you frailness with speed man!" Gilbert huffed. "But I'm fast too! Don't worry, I'm gonna get you!"

Unfortunately for the Prussian, he didn't catch him—he had completely forgotten about the stamina factor and had heard that Francis used to be on the school track team (the best on the team to top it off) for five years straight. He grinned as he sat at a bench, panting like he had just ran from the cops. "Heh…Matthew…hah, Matthew must…have it good..." he began snickering at the innuendo. It took him a moment to recover before he was just sitting there, still panting. "Holy hell, where'd Antonio go?"

"Right here dude—"

"EAARGH!"

"Hah! You're expression was priceless," Antonio snickered before plopping himself down next to Francis. "Did he lose you? Again?"

"Hell! Don't scare me like that! And yeah, he's like a fucking gazelle, I swear. I think I heard Matthew talking about that bastard being on the track team and being the best person on the team…" he shook his head. "Man, all I did was play basketball, what'll that do for you when you're trying to rape someone?"

Antonio burst out laughing at the joke and Gilbert grinned toothily at his friend. "Ah, I played football…err…Alfred would say soccer, but I refuse to say soccer," he waved a hand in the air, a slightly disgusted look crossing over his features before disappearing altogether. With a sigh, he sat back. "Maybe I'll help later~"

"Hah, it's too bad you can't combine speed," Gilbert smiled, shaking his head. "So! While we wait for him to reveal himself like he just did not too long ago—what do you want to do?"

"Sup guys, what're you doing?" Alfred greeted with a grin and a wave of the hand, Arthur following behind him. "And what's up with you Billshit? You look like you just ran a marathon."

"That's another good way to explain it," Gilbert chuckled before resting his elbows on his knees. "Dude, Francis is so damn fast, I can't catch him—I knew we shouldn't have let him loose!"

"He was complaining about his arm amigo…" Antonio pointed out and Gilbert huffed.

"Yeah, so he could get away from us," he then sat up straighter. "God—hey Al Fucking Jones, ya know why he's so damn fast? I did hear Matthew talking about him being on the track team or something…"

"Oh yeah, Frenchie was on the track team ever since we were allowed to start signing up for things in fifth grade," Alfred grinned. "Was on the team last year too—whooped some serious ass, went to one of his track meets with Mattie and damn, those guys were fast and I would never be able to run that fast, but holy hell, Frenchie was even faster…" he then shook his head, grin widening. "You might as well give up."

"Oh you're no fun Fucking Jones," Gilbert grinned.

"That's not my middle name."

"Yeah, but Billshit isn't my last name—you're lucky Ludwig ain't here," he ticked his index finger back and forth, clicking his tongue as he did so. "That doesn't mean I don't think I'll be able to fight against you—'cause I'd whoop your ass—just the thought of West, since he's super strong, kicking your ass is even awesomer."

"Nah, I don't see that happening," Alfred grinned, clapping Gilbert on the shoulder. "I'm too awesome."

"Yeah, but not as awesome as me."

"No way, I'm awesomer."

Arthur facepalmed as the two went back and forth over who's 'awesomer' than the other. "I'm surrounded by gits," he shook his head and sighed before removing his hand from his forehead. "Sometimes it just really sucks to be me…" he then began to sulk to himself, both Gilbert and Alfred still going at it.

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(1) Seven stories; Hollywood not listening to that – In most Hollywood movies, when the people are in a building (and it's in France) almost always, always, there's a full scene of the Eiffel Tower. In reality, many buildings are restricted to seven floors tall and it's very likely that you won't be able to see the Eiffel Tower that well anyways. Interesting isn't it?

Lol, since I made Francis such a wimp in the physical area, I decided to let him be a superstar on a track team :P Sorry for the delay (if you couldn't understand a word I said in the opening author's note), watched HetaOni with my little brother because he wanted to watch it and I hadn't finished the outline to this chapter yet :P Ignore what I said in the opening authors note last chapter—I was just weird and tired and just…stuff :P So bleh. Please review, love to hear what you have to say and peace out my friends :D

Fun Fact: Women blink twice as much as men.