Venezuela woke up on the floor where he passed out last night, his back ached and his throat was dry, he had felt better but this wasn't that bad. He stood and sat in complete silence, looking at his shoes. 'Why do they look so dirty? I should clean them up…" He noticed he still had his conference clothes on. "Ugh, I feel disgusting."

He tried to stand on his own, but his legs failed him, making him fall in the sofa he had in the living room. 'Great, now how the fuck I'm supposed to do stuff' he thought, looking down at the floor. He saw his phone laying in there so he picked it up and gave it a look, the screen was broken, but it seemed like it still worked.

He had some notifications from last night, and some lost calls. Without giving it importance, Venezuela dropped his phone on the small table of the living room, all he wanted to do now was eat, change his clothes and have a proper rest, maybe somewhere that wasn't the floor.

It took him a while, but he managed to stand on his own, walk towards the bathroom without falling and take a quick shower, now he was in his room, watching his phone charging, he had a strange feeling that something bad was about to happen. 'Maybe I'm just being superstitious, a little of positive thinking won't hurt me'. Now all he needed was a good meal and he was ready to start his day, even though his back was killing him and his usual pains were appearing once again.

Leaving his phone behind he went to the kitchen to prepare something to eat while listening to some radio program he liked. 'After this I'll start with that paperwork I been delaying…'

But even now, he felt something weird, was he forgetting something? Or is was just his mind? He was about to start some internal ranting to find out what had happened when he heard his house phone ring, he walked and picked it up.

"Good morning, Venezuela speaking, how may I help you?" He recited, he was used to saying that to anyone that called to his house. On the other side of the line he heard a familiar voice.

"Venezuela! Que alegria, I've trying to contact you all day, is everything ok?" Colombia sounded worried, a lot more worried that he usually is when he calls him.

"Hum yes, I'm fine, why do you ask? Because if you mean 'are you really fine?' then the answer's no, but you already know that." Venezuela could feel Colombia tense on the other side of the line, he wasn't responding and that was starting to make him feel nervous. "…something happened?"

"I'm sorry Rafael… I couldn't do anything to stop all of that nonsense last night, if they do something to you I could never forgive myself, please contact me if something happens" Colombia said sounding worried, sad and angry at the same time. Venezuela just listened in silence, waiting for an explanation for his response. "I-I'm sorry Vene, I have to go. Remember, if anything happens please contact me immediately."

Colombia ended the call and left Venezuela more than confused. 'He called me Rafael... he only does that when something serious happens' He looked at his phone and started reading the messages he ignored earlier. Some said they wished him luck, other told him to make the race more difficult for both of them.

Venezuela was really confused, race? Luck? What the fuck happened in that party last night and how was he involved in the problem? He thought about calling someone that could explain to him what was happening, but he didn't have lots contacts.

'Maybe if I ignore the problem that I don't understand it will go away' And that was what he wanted to do. He left his phone aside and went to the kitchen, eating will make him feel better, after a good meal he can start some work and try to find out what was that problem he wanted to ignore.

…

America woke up feeling like shit, where even was he? He stood up from the sofa he was sleeping in and looked at the place around him. He saw Japan sleeping on England's shoulder, Paraguay touching some plants for some reason and Ecuador cleaning the floor. Now he remembered, there was a party last night, a party on which he got a little drunk… what else happened in the party? He felt like he was forgetting something important.

Even though his head was killing him he walked around the placed, he needed to take a flight home. On his way to the door he found Mexico, he was cleaning some beer bottles that were on the door. "Oh hey gringo, had fun last night?" He said without looking at him, busy with the cleaning.

"Yeah, when you are not bothering me with something political you can be nice" He responded, with a little smile on his face. Mexico looked at him, now a little angry.

"Ay si ay si, now get out of here and… oh!" Suddenly Mexico looked over America's shoulder. "Hello there Russia, now that you are both here I have something I need to tell you before you go." America turned his head around to see Russia approaching them, always with that weird smile on his face.

"Hello Mexico, good party" Russia simply said, standing at America's side. "What is it that you want to tell us?"

Mexico left the bottle aside and looked at them, now with a serious look. "Remember the whole dare thing last night and the race? Well a lot of countries are invested in this now, we want to see how it goes! There's also money involved, I'm rooting for you Russia!" Mexico said, happily smiling at the Slavic.

Now America remembered everything, the game, the dare, the race. And it hit him like a train. 'Now I'm involved in this stupid race' He thought, sighing slightly.

"Of course I remember Mexico, and do not worry, I am not planning to lose" The words Russia pronounced turned on something inside of America, his sense of competition was now on and couldn't be turn off. Now that he was sober he knew that this wasn't really a great idea, but he couldn't lose against the Russian.

America turned to look at Russia and smiled at him, with a cocky expression.

"Bold of you to assume I will lose, commie"

"Don't you think that insult is a little outdated America? You could use some creativity" Russia responded, turning to see America with his usual innocent smile. "And I thought you were also interested in this race, but if you are not then you can just retire and make me the winner, doesn't that sound great?"

Now Russia was just mocking him, provoking him to act. And he achieved it.

"Oh hell no my dude, I'm in!" And with those enthusiastic words the race was set to start. America looked at Mexico and pointed at him. "And you, better tell everyone to root for me, because I will win this!"

"If you say so" Now both countries were ready to leave, with the feeling of competition flowing through their veins.

With one final look at each other they left Mexico's house, and after some hours finally took their flights home. Both of them had a lot to plan, after all this kind of races couldn't be won without and strategy.

…

America arrived home after his flight and collapsed on his bead after taking a shower. Now that he was home he could do all the paperwork that was accumulating in his office and plan his strategy for this race.

He was a very confident country, very full of himself and knew no limits, but this was something he didn't quite know how to proceed with. Venezuela was not only a country which he didn't had good international relationships with since 1998, but he was also kind of a mystery nowadays among the other nations. He didn't attempt World Conferences often, and when he did he was too busy following Russia and Cuba around, not talking to anyone outside of them and… Colombia.

"That's it!" Now he knew how to begin, he needed advice from someone who knew Venezuela, and who better for that than Colombia, the only country that was close to him.

He quickly dialed Colombia's number and called him, he was obviously going to answer as he always did when America called.

After some seconds of silence and expectations he hears the other man's voice, finally picking up the phone. "Hello America? I hope you are ok, is something the matter?". 'Polite as always' America thought, while sitting on his bead.

"Sup Colombia! Look dude I need you help with something" He heard Colombia mutter something in Spanish to someone but ignored it.

"What is it?"

"So you know the whole love race thing right? Well I need you to tell me everything you know about Venezuela, now" For a moment he just waited for Colombia to tell him everything, but instead he heard Colombia make a weird angry noise.

"I won't help any of you in this, you are all sick! Russia already called and he got the same response as you" He paused for a moment and spoke in a deeper tone. "If you hurt Vene in any way I'm personally going to beat the shit out of you, America, don't try me."

And with that he hanged, leaving America feeling a mix of confusion and angriness. 'So he already called… he is ahead of me' He thought, Russia was a clever man and America knew that very well. If he wants to win this race he has to be faster and clever than him.

He got up and went to his office room, sitting down at his desk to start his paperwork. He needed to find Venezuela's address and when were some flights to his country available. If he was going to take this seriously then Russia had to start moving, he was determined to win this. It could even benefit his country's image, him saving Venezuela like a hero from the bad Russia was going to be a perfect headline for the newspapers.

…

The next day, after finishing all of his paperwork last night (and still feeling like shit), Venezuela was now resting on his sofa, watching some TV and drinking black coffee. He was looking a bit better, although he was still confused about the whole 'race' thing everyone was mentioning and avoiding to tell him about. Even Colombia denied to explain and instead just told him that he was going to fix everything, but fix what?

His moment of peace was interrupted by the sound of the house bell ringing. 'Huh? It's early… I hope this is not a robbery' Just in case he grabbed his keys to defend himself and walked towards the door, he could be paranoid but he was always prepared. When he opened it he saw a delivery girl with a rose bouquet and a happy meal from McDonald's.

"Good morning, your delivery is here, everything is already paid for" She gave him everything and left without saying a word. Venezuela walked inside his house again and sat down looking at everything he had now. Deliveries were expensive, and not everyone paid for something like that in his country, so who was it?

'A rose bouquet and a happy meal…' It was a weird combination, and all his friends knew he didn't like gifts… so who could have been? He searched and found a card inside the happy meal, it was printed and it had a signature on it. It was also soaked in grease from the meal, great. He took it and examined it, it had something written in it.

"Hey dude, enjoy a good meal for your breakfast! –your hero, America"

He stood still and started reading it again, but it didn't look like a prank, it was actually a gift from the American? Why did he wanted to gift him something out of nowhere? Was it poisoned?

Before he could start to search for some answers the bell of his house ringed again. 'Now what?' He quickly went and opened the door, just to find another delivery guy, this time he had a sunflower bouquet and a package. He gave him everything without explaining and left.

Venezuela went inside once again and sat down, looking at his now two flower bouquets and packages. He searched again for a card and found one between the sunflowers, and this one had something written too.

"Priviet Venezuela! I hope you enjoy the flowers and the cake, you will see more of me soon so don't worry! –Russia"

He looked at both cards and sighed loudly, what the fuck was going on and why where two superpowers sending him gifts?