"I can't believe you guys are making me do this."
The small redhead Australian girl scowled as she looked back and forth between the stupid grinning faces of Seborga and Sealand, the former of which was holding an elaborate, wild pink and blue dress that looked like it had been dipped in one of those cotton candy making machines. In his other hand, he held tons of makeup supplies, everything from eyeliner, lipstick, blush, foundation—the whole works. Though secretly, Wy did admire a considerable amount the trouble Seborga must've gone through to get all this junk.
Still smiling like a dope, Sealand said in his posh accent, "C'mon, Wy. All you have to do is disguise yourself, and sneak into the girls' meeting, and report back to us what they talk about. It's simple!"
No, it's really not, Wy wanted to snap back, but she kept her mouth shut. She warily turned her head to look at the meeting room where she and the female nations of the world would be in. Sealand and Seborga wanted her to basically go in, observe, and report back to them if the women talked about any "key information" (whatever that meant), though she highly doubted that anything they would discuss would be really that crucial; for crying out loud, the nations very rarely talked about anything of great importance at world meetings.
Though, on the plus side... Wy began to think musingly as she saw Seborga give Sealand a big brotherly noogie, and heard the small British boy shriek annoyingly. It would be nice to get away from...them for a while. Always she was surrounded by boys—even at home she had to deal with Australia, Hutt River, and sometimes New Zealand. She thought of the older female nations as sophisticated and mature (even though she barely knew them at all; still, that's how she viewed them from a distance), much different from the usual mutts she had to put up with on a daily basis.
Speaking of mutts... Wy scowled heavier when she was met with the dopey face of a tall Italian. "There you go, princess!" he said overly-excitedly as he shoved that horrid dress and adult cosmetics into her arms.
"I'm not a princess."
He ignored her, and as she went into the women's room to change, he suddenly let out a little sound. "Oop! Hold up, I forgot one thing."
Annoyed, Wy huffed and placed her hands on her hips, though this was hard because of all the stuff she was holding. "Dear God, what is it?"
Seborga snorted, as if he were trying to hide a laugh. Not a good sign.
She continued to stand there with her hands on her hips while waiting for Seborga to return. When he came back out and saw what he had in his hands a deep blush instantly rose to her face and she gasped. Now she knew why that pervert had been giggling.
In one hand he held a huge bra and in another two startlingly large grapefruits. "Oh, God no," Wy said loudly, walking away from Seborga, planting a wide scowl on her face. He knew exactly what the man was planning—and she was not going to comply. Wear that stupid clown dress, put on four pounds of makeup, yes, but not this.
"Wy, seriously..." Seborga started, catching up to her, though the girl could hear the giggle in his voice.
"Hell no!" Wy screamed again, feeling bold at her use of the word hell. She firmly planted her feet on the ground and turned to face Seborga. She could see quite clearly that he was trying to hide a huge laughing fit behind his smirk. She looked back at Sealand—his face was red, too, and his mouth gaping open and shut like a fish's, until very, very slowly, a weak smile began to fall on his lips and he covered his mouth with his hands.
"Wy...just wear it. It completes the outfit, really," Seborga said, and slowly his gaze landed on her chest, which she immediately covered with her arms. As if she didn't already hate the man enough, he hunkered down to her level, placing his hands on his knees, and of course he wore that dopey grin. "Besides...do you really expect to blend in looking like that?" His gaze lowered on her chest again, and though he didn't explicitly state anything, Wy knew what he was referring to.
"So? What the hell does it matter? Weirdo!" she spat out, trying to sound sassy but just sounding like a little kid. Though she did feel her face grow redder as she stared down wistfully at her small bumps. I haven't even grown out of my training bra yet... she thought a bit awkwardly. Truthfully, she'd only gotten her first bra a mere few months ago, and it was something she'd been proud of (she officially wasn't a little kid anymore!), but now looking at the one in Seborga's hands made her confidence simmer. But...did it really have to be that big? And did he really want her to stuff her...area...with those huge grapefruits? Like, seriously! She almost laughed at how ridiculous the situation was. Almost. If she didn't want to punch Seborga in the face so badly and if Sealand would've stopped staring with that odd look in his eyes, then she probably would have laughed.
Wy got closer to Seborga's face. Huffing like a bull, she grabbed the bra and the two fruits in his hand, carried them in her arms along with the dress and makeup, and headed towards the restroom. "Fine—but if I come out here looking like a fool, don't you dare laugh at me!"
Slamming the door as she stormed into the restroom, Wy fumed even harder when she heard Seborga tell Sealand, "I had to make up an excuse and tell the cashier it was for my wife. You should've seen his eyes pop..."
Closing the door behind her, she got into a stall to change (as if she were afraid that someone was going to burst in at any moment). In spite of herself, she felt good snapping on a bra (a real one!) for the first time. The grapefruits were a bit more challenging. Though she was alone, she blushed heavily as she stuffed them into her shirt; they were uncomfortable, and just the slightest movement made them jiggle embarrassingly. And she felt as if she were going to smother herself with her own chest whenever she bent down. Good grief. She prayed to God she wouldn't grow to be anything past a B-cup.
Next, she put on the dress. Thankfully, the neckline came up to her collarbones so she could avoid exposing her—ahem—secret (or, rather, secrets). The dress had ruffles around the collar and along the sleeves in fine white lace, and the entire thing was embedded with pink and blue silk with diamond shapes. She once again put on her old, lacy white socks and black dress shoes with the straps.
Face still beet-red, Wy exited the stall, slowly, to see the final product (well, before she slaughtered her face in makeup). She gasped. She looked—quite good, actually. Though she'd wished Seborga would've chosen something classier, the dress suited her hair color and skin tone well. She looked like a Munchkin, but with a pretty 21st century twist, or like one of those eccentric people that flocked Wonderland in Alice's dreams. And her bosom...on second thought, she truthfully would've traded this in with her old measly chest size any day—not that she'd tell the boys that. Or what she thought about the dress. Wy twisted and turned a bit in front of the mirror to admire herself, something she rarely got to do on a regular day.
Hand trembling, she began to apply makeup lavishly, not knowing when she'd get the chance to again. She really went crazy, already knowing that if she put too little on Seborga would've fixed it up for her anyway. And she really didn't want him to touch her face. She topped it off by coating her lips with a pink gloss. She skinned back her face to tie into her hair a blue shiny barrette, high on her head and in a bun.
Wy took one last look at herself in the mirror. She tried to find things she disliked, just for the sake of getting nasty with Seborga, but really, she couldn't find anything. Even her makeup looked on point—even if it was a lot, and perhaps she went too crazy on the eyeliner and blush. She stuck her tongue out in the mirror, to remind herself that she was still Wy—a flat-chested, bad-mouthed, eccentric 12-year-old girl who wore halter tops and flip-flops. A 12-year-old girl with a deep Aussie accent who loved animals, painting, and hanging out with the boys. She giggled a bit at her own silliness, and headed out of the restroom, making sure to grab her things.
Wy teetered out of the bathroom awkwardly, making sure to plant a harsh scowl on her face—though, in spite of herself, she felt a blush rise to her cheeks and her heart began to pound. She stood in front of Seborga and Sealand, and she was so happy that she'd put on so much makeup, otherwise her face probably would've been as fiery as her red hair. The girl nonchalantly glanced up at a nearby clock hanging. "Thank God it's almost time for the meeting. Now where's my walkie-talkie so I can get going?"
She looked back down at the faces of her two closest micronation friends. Sealand's mouth gaped open and shut, and Wy saw, to her embarrassment, a rosy blush stain his cheeks as he gazed at her from head to toe, never uncrossing his hands. Wy wished he would stop looking at her like that. Seborga, on the other hand, seemed very pleased with what he saw as he blinked rapidly a few times, a small grin creeping up on his face. "Wy," he began, "look at your costume! I told you you'd blend right in!"
She made an exaggerated motion of rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, now where's my walkie-talkie?" Sealand had previously insisted they used walkie-talkies to communicate, for some odd reason (Wy suspected it was probably for his own childish amusement) so that they could talk back and forth in secret.
"I really enjoy what you did with the makeup!" Seborga continued absent-mindedly. "You did everything right, just right! Why, you look years older!"
"I said 'where's my walkie-talkie?!'" The girl hissed, partly out of embarrassment, but partly out of annoyance. Mostly out of annoyance. Yeah. For sure.
Only then did the dopey expression Seborga surely got from his big brothers and his late grandfather disappear. "Oh. Right." He chuckled a bit, and turned his eyes to his partner in crime. "Sealand? You've got them, right?"
Sealand, still in his daze, finally seemed to snap out. "...Oh? Yeah. I've got them right here." He tossed one to Wy, not looking her in the eye, and another to Seborga as he kept one for himself. Still with his eyes gazed down somewhat, he told Wy, "Okay, Wy. Remember what I said about these things? If you want to talk to us, you have to turn the button like this." He finally lifted his eyes to meet Wy's, and turned the button to demonstrate as the walkie-talkie made a psssh sound. He turned it back in the other direction so it stopped. "And, remember, always you have to end your sentence with—"
"Over." Wy rolled her eyes again. Why he insisted they do this, she didn't know, except that maybe he was just trying to make it more playful. How immature.
Sealand chuckled a bit at her usual sassy behavior. Under all the makeup, and that dress, she was still the same Wy. This comforted him a bit, and he smiled, sparkling his blue eyes at her.
Suddenly, the trio heard soft, girlish laughter and the sound of a door opening and closing. Seborga let out a small gasp. "Crap—they're already here!" He caught Sealand's hand and hurried into the room they'd said they would be hiding in during the meeting. Wy opened her mouth, wanting to say something to him; her heart began to beat so quickly, and she already felt herself breaking a sweat. She wasn't ready! Seborga popped his head out, letting Wy relax for just an instant, until all he did was call out, "Good luck, Wy!"
"But—" she began, but Seborga had already shut the door.
Letting out a frustrated growl, she balled her hands into fists. "You idiot! I'll make you pay for this!" She stomped her foot angrily, and turned around. She caught sight of a group of girls swirling through—the female nations surely. She gulped.
"Oh no," Wy cried to herself, feeling half sick. It was her time—she just couldn't make a fool of herself, or worse, blow her cover. Her legs felt like jell-o and her arms like noodles as she began to follow the women into the meeting room.
••••••••
Meekly, nervously, Wy poked her head into the meeting room. There were already a handful of other nations there. She tiptoed in, clicking her fingers together in a sign of anxiousness, and went to sit down. She looked around—it was a pretty room, ultra-feminine in a low-key way; it was littered with paintings of blue skies, hills, flowers, and trees, and there was a small vending machine and water fountain, all behind a blue wallpaper for a background. She then observed the other people in the room. Wy felt even younger and less mature as she watched them, huddled in small groups, giggling, some with cocktail glasses in their hands and others with mugs of tea or coffee. The only nation she recognized immediately was Monaco, and that was because of all the times Seborga had talked about her giddily, always with hearts in his eyes. All of the women for the most part ignored her, except for one girl with chocolate-colored skin and dark brown hair tied together with red ribbons, who made Wy even more nervous as she stared curiously at her.
All at once, almost eerily on cue, the females came to sit down in chairs, still exchanging light conversation between themselves. The girl with the red ribbons in her hair who'd been so intensely staring at Wy came to sit by her. "Hello," she greeted happily, smiling, as if Wy were just an old friend and not a complete stranger.
Wy hesitated a bit. "Hi," she finally got out. "How are you?" That was the only polite thing she could think to say to continue the conversation.
To Wy's surprise, the older girl's eyebrows drew miserably together and her lips made a slight quivering motion. "Oh..." she drawed, huffing out a small sigh. "Currently dying." Seeing Wy's blank expression, she let her arm wrap around her stomach and elaborated, "Cramps."
Wy furrowed her eyebrows together, utterly confused and a bit alarmed. "If your stomach hurts, why don't you stay home?"
The older nation smiled almost in a pitiful way at Wy. "You're too young to understand, huh?" She made a little noise that was halfway between a sigh and a chuckle. "Lucky you," she smiled brilliantly at Wy, the way a grandma would smile at their cute little grandchild.
Both this and the conversation about the "cramps" made Wy feel deeply that she was neither as mature nor as much of a know-it-all as she liked to think.
The brown-skinned girl cocked her head. "I don't recognize you," she said. "Are you a new nation?" She asked this excitedly. In her deepest of hearts, Wy couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe this bubbly girl, this pretty girl, this older girl, wanted to be her friend, and wanted to hear what she had to say.
That was pretty awesome.
"Um..." Wy put her finger next to her mouth nervously. God dang-it! Seborga and Sealand didn't tell her what to say in case she was asked! "Yeah," she nodded her head dumbly.
The girl's brown eyes sparkled. "Cool!" She began to giggle. "Well...welcome to the club, then!" She held out her hand for Wy to shake. The redhead, fondly and out of pleasant surprise that she already seemingly had a friend, returned the shake. "I'm Seychelles," the older girl introduced herself. "And you are...?"
I am...? Wy felt her face grow pink. Seborga and Sealand hadn't told her this, either! Those idiots...they should have known she'd be interrogated! Though, to give "Seychelles" the benefit of the doubt, she was not exactly interrogating Wy. "Um..." Wy stumbled again as she bit her lip warily.
Just then, as if a someone had sensed Wy's distress, she heard a loud thud as the sound of what seemed to be a newspaper or a magazine being smacked against a table reached her ears. Wy quickly cocked her head to the front of the room. There was an Asian woman who Wy faintly recognized, wearing mint-green, her dark-dark hair pulled in a ponytail; it took the Australian girl a few moments to remember her name—Vietnam.
A very faint smirk crossed Vietnam's lips. "I now commence this meeting, ladies," she said as she gazed around, taking a sip of her tea, in an almost comically tiny cup, seemingly made of China.
When her cat-like gaze landed on Wy, she did a double-take, and her smile faded for just an instant. The young girl felt her heart drop as she did so. Oh, snap, she thought, I'm busted.
Vietnam pointed a slim finger almost accusingly at Wy. "Who are you?" she asked in a fast, demanding way. "I don't recognize you."
All the females in the room turned to stare at Wy, eyes big. The little girl looked down, biting her lip, trying not to tremble. "I-I'm a new nation," she replied, more loudly than she intended.
The small playful smile returned to Vietnam's face slightly. "What's your name, then?"
My name? Shoot—why hadn't Seborga gone over this crap with her?! She thought about just telling them the truth—that her name was Wy—but what if someone recognized the name?
Hence Wy's decision to go the most practical route—making up a name. She chewed on her thumbnail as she scanned the room desperately for some inspiration. She glanced at the dark brown steaming liquid in the cup Vietnam held between her delicate fingers. "Um...Tea—" Wy began, knowing her "name" was going to sound ridiculous if she continued this, but she didn't care. She was desperate, and beyond angry at Seborga and Sealand for not preparing her more.
Wy then glanced at the other Asian nation, who was sitting closest to Vietnam and wearing a pink kimono, glanced at her hair, and the pretty pink accessory tucked behind her ear. "—Flower—"
"—Land," Wy spat out at last. She gave a quivering smile, hoping she hadn't made too much a fool of herself.
Vietnam seemed to glare at her doubtfully as her eyes narrowed to slits. "Teaflowerland..." she repeated slowly.
Oh no, oh no, oh no...they're gonna expose me, they're gonna kick me out, they're gonna find out I'm working with Seborga and Sealand...ohhhh, why did I let them drag me into this?! was Wy's mental reprimandment to herself as the women in the room stared at her doubtfully, all eyes huge.
Until...all of a sudden, Vietnam grew a huge smile on her face to replace her previous sour, dubious expression. "I love it!" she exclaimed.
Wy brightened up immediately and sat up as she heard compliments all around: "What a pretty name!"
"I wish my name was that pretty!"
"Wow!"
"I bet you were founded by England, weren't you?"
"Hungary...don't insult her like that!"
"What? I'm just asking!"
Wy grinned, and inwardly sighed out a huge breath of relief. Good—she wasn't busted. Not yet. She glanced up at her new friend Seychelles, who looked down at her with an approving smile.
"So, are you like, new new?" another nation, one with light, wavy brown hair and cat-like lips that smirked upwards, asked.
"Um...well, yeah," Wy began, turning to face the girls. "We got our independence from...Australia not too long ago." Wy couldn't find it in her heart to take away her big brother's credibility.
"Interesting," Monaco said, placing her hand under his chin.
Wy continued to lie through her teeth, feeling a bit devilish in doing so. "Yeah, we fought Australia a little while ago for our independence, and...we won." Sorry, Australia. "I'm officially Teaflowerland now."
All the girls cheered, a little more so than Wy thought was necessary, but this only made her smile grow wider. She gingerly touched the huge bun on her hair, feeling like a princess, and then let her hand rest on her bosom.
"Hungary, get her a drink!" Vietnam commanded, while a girl with long brown hair immediately jumped up to do just that.
"Water, please!" Wy shouted at Hungary. She didn't need to convince them to that extent that she was mature and lady-like.
"Coming right up!" she chirped back.
Wy sat back in her seat, like how a breadwinner relaxed in his lazy-boy chair after a hard day's work, feeling comfortable at last. Seychelles lightly patted her back and said cheerily, "Welcome to the club."
I can have fun with this, Wy thought, a small smirk daring to cross her lips. I can.
••••••••
The female nations of the world didn't talk about "important matters" at all.
And everybody always says world meetings are unproductive, Wy thought. The only things the girls considered "productive" were talking about what malls they liked to shop at the most, what nail colors they liked the best, and whether they were a "winter" or "summer" or whatever. It was all so confusing to Wy. Oh yeah...and they talked about what nations they shipped together.
Yeah. That's right. They talked about what two nations (and sometimes three—disgusting, right?) should get into a lip-lock with each other, and sometimes even more than just that (also pretty gross).
Wy thought that at least they'd talk about societal issues, at least a little bit, like about how women were often misrepresented, underestimated, and looked down upon and made to feel inferior to men. You know—like feminist type stuff. But no. Literally all they cared about, really, Wy discovered, was who they "shipped."
"Come on!" Hungary began once again, really pleading now, "Have you seen the way China looks into Russia's eyes?"
"...With hatred?" Ukraine scoffed impatiently, taking a sip of her coffee dismissively.
"Says the one who ships Russia and America," Hungary shot back in disgust. "Does the Cold War ring a bell?"
Ukraine suddenly threw back her head and let out a laugh. "True, but I'm pretty sure I know my little brother better than you do. And I'm really sure him and America would be the dream couple. Just saying."
Hungary threw up her hands, seemingly giving up, and let out a little grunt. "Please, someone help me here. Belarus...you're Russia's sister, too; you tell me who you ship him with—China or America?"
Belarus looked up, her mouth set in a cold frown. She admired Hungary for even being able to speak to the Slavic; that women scared the hell out of Wy. She shivered.
"I don't ship Big Brother with anyone except myself," Belarus stated coldly.
"Oh yeah..." Hungary sighed out, as if she really could've forgotten. "You're Miss Crazy Become-One-With-Me, huh?" She smirked, while Wy felt as if she were going to, pardoning her indecency, shit her pants. Hungary made an exaggerated motion of rolling her eyes. "While we're on the topic of potential couples...sorry to break it to you, Belarus, but I think everyone here knows you and Mr. Lithuania would be, like, the dream couple." Slowly, very slowly, a small smile crept on Hungary's face.
Smirks and soft chuckles began to circulate throughout the room, though Wy felt a nervous tension in the air.
"What?!" Belarus screeched. "Lithuania? I hate him!" she nearly shouted, her voice cold as ice. "I broke his fingers for a reason, you know!"
The room went dead silent for just a moment. Until boldly, Hungary whispered slowly, "...sexual tension?"
That was it. The entire room, sans Wy, Ukraine, and a cute little blond nation named Liechtenstein, bursted out laughing. Taiwan stamped her feet on the ground as she covered her mouth with her hands, her entire face red; Seychelles ducked her face into her lap to prevent her laughter from becoming too loud; even Vietnam, usually so poised, put her slim hand over her lips, soft chuckles escaping her. Even Wy began to laugh lightly despite herself; not because she really thought the situation was funny (even though it kind of was), but just because the laughter was contagious.
"You guys are complete imbeciles!" Belarus spat out. She jumped from her seat, and pointed a finger accusingly. "Every single one of you!" She then looked down at Ukraine and Liechtenstein, who were sitting next to her, perhaps searching for some backup. But yet...Ukraine bit her lip and lowered her head, clearly to keep from laughing, while Liechtenstein coughed awkwardly, letting out a shy little chuckle while doing so.
Belarus clearly gave up at this point. She let out a vicious uh! sound and stormed off, shouting at the women, calling them every name in the book. When she was completely gone, they all looked at each other, darting their eyes at one another, and Wy thought that they would call for Belarus to come back, and apologize. Instead, once again, they all began to burst out laughing, even harder than before because that icy tension in the room was no longer there. Even Wy found herself being included in the laugh.
The rest of the "meeting" went pretty much smooth. Wy found herself getting more and more comfortable, felt herself growing more and more mature. She sipped from her cocktail glass filled with water, pretending it was wine, or a fancy cocktail, teaching herself how to laugh deep and rumbly like a grown woman did; she crossed her legs as the other women did, learned to hold her chin high and ladylike to express confidence or dominance. They even talked about Australia a little bit, and sometimes England or even Seborga; this always got a huge laugh out of Wy, of course—these were the boys she was most familiar with. She could relate to their jokes this way.
In fact, Wy was having so much fun that she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a strange buzzing noise coming from one of the pockets in her dress. All the girls turned to stare at her, eyebrows raised, as they heard the odd sound. Then Wy remembered: the walkie-talkie! She'd become so absorbed in the conversations that she'd forgotten the whole reason why she was there.
The Australian girl felt her face grow red. "Um...I have to use the restroom. I'll be right back." Embarrassed, she ran out of the room and into the girls' restroom.
Now angry at the boys, she fumed as she twisted the little button on the walkie-talkie so that she heard a voice come through. It was Sealand's. "Wy, are you still there? Over."
The girl huffed. "Yes, I'm still here, and you actually just interrupted a perfectly good time." Then she remembered one of the "rules" Sealand had put in place. "...Over."
"Did you get any good information? Over."
Wy groaned, and squeezed the bridge of her nose with her pointer fingers. "No, I didn't. The girls are just as fricking unserious as the rest of the nations at meetings. Over."
"...Really? You got nothing at all? Over."
Wy was beginning to lose her patience. "No! You just interrupted the meeting. Everybody stared at me weird. Over."
"Sheesh. I just wanted to ask you; you've been there for over two hours. Over."
"Ugh—look, just...don't buzz in like that again. I'll talk to you again when the meeting's over."
A long pause on the other end.
"...Hello?" Wy said into the walkie-talkie.
"You didn't end your conversation with 'over,' Wy. Over."
Wy scrunched her nose, confused. "What?!" She paused. "Wait...so, even if my sentence ends in over, I still have to say 'over?'"
"Yes. You forgot to do it there, too. Over."
Wy screamed, "That is just stupid! Absolutely moronic!"
"It's just the rules, Wy. Over."
The girl's face became beet-red as she screamed into the walkie-talkie, "I hope you burn in hell! Over!" She turned the button off angrily, and threw the walkie-talkie with mighty force against the mirror above the sink. Miraculously, the mirror didn't shatter, and instead, the walkie-talkie just bounced into the sink.
"...Teaflowerland?"
Wy nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a small, squeaky voice. She snapped her neck to her left to see Liechtenstein, holding the door open just slightly with her tiny fingers, poking her head through. She mumbled shyly, "Um...Hungary wanted me to make sure you were alright. You ran in here in a rush. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Wy insisted. She realized the tone of her voice was much harsher than she intended when she saw Liechtenstein flinch. Wy bowed her head and sighed. "I'm sorry—it's just...yeah, I'm alright. I'll be back. Give me a few minutes."
Liechtenstein smiled slightly, and closed the door. When she was gone, Wy sighed heavily as she picked the walkie-talkie back up, twisting it a little to make sure it still worked (it did, a bit unfortunately), and stuffed it in her dress. She went to do her business in a stall, realizing just then that she had to go pee, washed her hands in the same sink the walkie-talkie had been in, and left.
When she went back into the meeting room, everyone greeted her back happily. Wy smiled. They were her friends—at least for now. She was shocked at their supposed cluelessness, shocked that they hadn't seen through her cover-up yet. The little girl sighed inwardly. She knew she couldn't be in this goofy disguise for long and get away with it. Either that, or she'd have to leave soon. Wy didn't want either of those things to happen.
Because being Teaflowerland was definitely better than being Wy.
••••••••
The meeting continued, though more warily for Wy, because she knew the clock was ticking.
Wy did a spectacular job of not blowing her cover—at least, until the last approximately five minutes of the meeting. She'd ended up revealing herself, unfortunately, though quite by accident.
Her and Hungary, of all people, got into an argument about something—it'd slipped Wy's mind as to exactly what it was. But, the bottom line was, Hungary eventually had Wy pinned to the floor with all her tomboyish strength, pressing her shoulders down and holding her feet together with one arm while digging the elbow of her other arm into Wy's stomach to hold her down.
Wy was giggling uncontrollably—laughing like she'd never laughed before. Her stomach hurt; she wasn't sure if it was from the laughter or Hungary's sharp elbow jammed into her stomach. Possibly both. She was giddy and anxious from the events of today.
"Say that one more time...I dare you," Hungary hissed as she had Wy pinned down, though it was clear she wasn't actually being serious—this was just a big game to her.
Wy was giggling so much that she didn't notice the grapefruit in her chest beginning to pop up. She only took notice when those two huge fruits spilled up from underneath the dress, and went over her shoulders and hit the bare floor with a bang!
Dead silence. Hungary made a gasping sound, mouth half-way open and face pink; she still had Wy pinned down. The little girl gasped, realizing what had just happened, and she felt her eyes grow as big as saucers, and a hot blush stain her cheeks and neck. The other female nations, who'd previously been gathered around, looked just as shocked.
Wy was embarrassed, to say the least, and utterly terrified of what would happen next.
"Wha—" Hungary began to mumble, but that was the only thing she could get out; she was speechless.
A certain glow came into the Hungarian's eyes just then that Wy couldn't exactly place. Desperately, Hungary began to wipe her fingers in a speedy motion over Wy's face, ruining and removing her makeup. Then, she forcefully clawed the barrette out of Wy's hair, let it fall down, and then used a scrunchie she'd seemingly pulled out of nowhere to tie Wy's hair into its usual style.
Wy heard a gasp. It was Monaco's. "Hey...wait a minute! I know you!" she hissed accusingly.
Seychelles, behind her, scrunched her face together. "Yeah!" She wagged her finger at Wy. "You're Seborga and England's younger brother's little friend—what's your name?"
A pause for just a few moments, until Taiwan spat out accusingly, "Wy!"
Wy looked around, feeling like she was going to puke. Everyone looked at her—some gave her dirty looks, while others just looked at her with pity.
Trying her best not to cry, a little whimper escaped her mouth as she held her trembling hands up to her chest. She'd never felt so small, so insignificant, so humiliated before. She thought fast and did the best thing she thought she could do in that situation—run. She ran out of that meeting room, and across the hall and into the room Seborga and Sealand had been staying in.
Once Seborga saw her, he looked up and began to exclaim, "Finally! There you—" But then he was taken aback by the look on her face. "Wy, what's wrong?"
Hearing Seborga's voice (in a concerned tone, for once—miraculous) only made Wy want to cry harder. Cry out of anger and frustration—for they'd been the ones who'd put her in this situation—and out of heartbrokenness. Another whimper escaped Wy's lips, but she bit her tongue, angry at herself for being this way, and put her fists against her eyes to keep the tears from flowing. No! she hissed at herself, I will not cry! Not in front of them.
"Bad news," she managed to croak out. "They...exposed me. Big time."
Surprisingly enough, the boys didn't laugh, or mock her, or immediately flee the scene—they comforted her. Sealand put a tender hand on her shoulder, while Seborga kept chanting in little soothing whispers, and offering her something to drink.
Suddenly, as quickly as Wy had been ready to cry, she wanted to scream—she was beyond angry; at them, for putting her into this situation. For making her wear this stupid dress, put on tons of makeup, wear that bra and stuff her chest with those grapefruits. For trying to pretty her up, make her into a different person, when they had no right to. She pushed Sealand off with a surprising force, and without even thinking, spilled the little cup of water she had in her hands all over the floor. "Piss off," Wy snarled at the boys. Dumbfounded, they just stared at her as she picked up her regular clothes, still in a little pink pile, stormed out of the room, and walked into the restroom to change.
Wy angrily took off that horrid pink and blue dress. She snapped off the Double-D sized bra and put on her training one. She put her comfortable white halter-top, jacket, and shorts back on. She replaced Hungary's pink scrunchie with her own.
Wy stood in front of the mirror. She would've laughed at her reflection—if she'd had the strength to. For Christ sakes, she looked like The Joker; her makeup was smeared so that it made white, black, and red streaks all over her face. She washed all of it off so that her face was clean and pale again. She smoothed down her hair, wishing she'd brought a brush, because it was a ratted mess. She once again stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror—she was Wy once again—though she didn't giggle this time. The girl hurried out of the restroom, not wanting to look at herself anymore.
She was utterly surprised when she was met with Seychelles, who'd been standing right behind the door. Wy was even more shocked to see the girl was smiling—a bit devilishly. Seychelles giggled. "Wow," she said. "You look...nicer. Sweeter and simpler."
Wy was genuinely touched by the compliment. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." The African girl held up a little slip of paper. "Hey...as a gift from us to you, here's all our numbers. You can call or text us anytime you want...just to talk, or vent, or whatever."
Eyes wide, Wy took the piece of paper and glanced over at it. "Wow...thanks!"
"No problem. And Hungary said she's sorry you got so upset...she wanted to let you know we're not mad at you."
"Okay," Wy replied nonchalantly, though she was very much happy to hear that, despite her tone.
Seychelles leaned in closer to Wy, as if she were about to tell her a secret. "And, just for the record, we all figured out kinda quickly that you were forced into that by Seborga and Sealand."
Wy let out a little laugh at that. "Wow, you guys are good. You were right."
"You know, you could've just told us who you were and we would've let you in, honestly."
The younger girl was taken aback. "Really?"
"Yeah!" Seychelles grinned from ear to ear. "Most of the time...I don't feel good saying this, but we pity you. You know, in regards to you having to deal with...well, them. Even Monaco does."
Wy didn't know what she couldn't believe more—the fact that the females actually talked about her, or that they thought the micronation boys were just as annoying as she did. "Tell me about it!" Wy replied with a laugh.
"And, also, for the record, we all made an...unanimous agreement that you're allowed into our meetings. Anytime."
"Really?" Wy's eyes lit up. "Thank you!"
Seychelles then bent down, and put her arms around Wy in a friendly hug. It was shocking at first for the little girl, but then she eventually hugged her back. It was warm, and comforting, and Wy realized then that she'd really needed it.
Seychelles released after a few seconds and then dashed off, seemingly in a rush. "Bye, girl!" she called to Wy, waving her hand frantically as she exited the building doors.
Wy waved back, a smile still plastered on her face.
Seborga and Sealand then caught up to her. "Wy, are you ready to go?" Seborga asked hurriedly. "I'm starving! I'm hungry for some pizza!"
"Yes, I'm ready, idiot," Wy shot back, her eyebrows furrowed. It was easier to just pretend she was still angry. Besides, she didn't want to tell them what had just happened.
Sealand scrunched his face together. "Pizza?! No...I wanna go to McDonald's!" he cried.
Wy pushed herself into the argument. "We're going to Hungry Jack's!" She'd just realized she was starving too, and she was a sucker for Hungry Jack's.
"...Wy, we're in America. It's called Burger King here," Seborga pointed out.
"Oh. Right."
"Pizza!"
"McDonald's!"
"Pizza!"
Sealand let out a cry. "McDooooonald's! I wanna Happy Meal!"
"Burger King!" Wy screeched.
Eventually, after about ten minutes of arguing, Sealand—surprise, surprise—got his own way, and they were all heading to McDonald's.
That didn't matter, though, because Wy was still happy—to herself, obviously. She'd just befriended a nation—or nations, she should say. They were all technically her buddies now, right?
Truthfully, deep down, Wy did want just as much as Seborga and Sealand to become an independent country, and this just might've been the right step in that direction.
She snapped back into reality when Seborga handed her her Happy Meal. She immediately groaned when she looked inside, though. "Seborga!" she hissed. "I asked for a girl toy!"
"Sheesh, princess," Seborga said, sighing, hating to have to act like their older brother, when he was just as immature as them. "Okay...I'll get you your girl toy."
Wy smirked. She liked having the best of both worlds. Being bossy with the boys, and being one of them, and also being one of the girls, chatting with them about malls and shopping and clothes and cute boys—and even "ships."
She wouldn't have minded having it this way from now on.