"Would you say I was an attractive child?" America approached England after a world meeting, seemingly genuinely worried over such a question.

"No?" England replied, but it came out more as a question. "That's a weird way to describe a child."

"That's not what I meant. Anyway, I meant, like, was I a cute kid? 'Cause I was just a kid, so I was minding my own business and stuff, just eating dirt or whatever— I wouldn't know. But you, you know, you're never minding your own business, so I figured it was worth asking."

"I suppose you were a cute enough kid. Why?"

"Would you say, given my inherent cuteness, that I turned into a reasonably attractive adult?"

"No, I can't think of a situation where I'd say that."

...

"Hey, England, would you say I'm conventionally attractive?" It had been a month since their last conversation; they were in a different meeting in a different country, but again America seemed significantly bothered.

England glanced at him for a moment and then continued his conversation with France.

When England didn't immediately respond, America pressed on, snagging England's attention again. "I mean, I used to think I was conventionally attractive, but like, nobody ever calls me 'handsome' or even 'pretty'. They jump straight to 'beautiful'. Like, what the heck, y'know?" America slumped a bit, perfect posture temporarily damned. "You know, I always figured I would kill myself once I wasn't hot anymore. But like, what if I was never hot to begin with? Goddamnit, man. What if I'm only attractive in the way that Lady Liberty is attractive?"

America had been speaking rapidly up to this point, as he often did in an attempt to cram more words in, to drown out anyone else's thoughts. But now he stopped, seemingly horrified, and France took the time to respond quite simply: "You don't think Lady Liberty is hot?" England, who America had been addressing to begin with, still seemed to be processing what America had said.

"I feel like saying that about Lady Liberty kind of goes against my personal morals, but yeah, I guess. Anyway, what if I'm attractive in the way people find, like, old Mustangs attractive? Or those old vintage Coca-Cola advertisements? Or a really nice Holiday Inn, or... or, like, sheepskin leather jackets. Or the Denver International Airport, or gas stations, or liquor stores, or the skyline of a relatively small city..."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," England told him. "It's after a song, isn't it? Why would your people tell you that if it wasn't some sort of joke to them?"

"You'd think, right? But no. I mean, my boss said I 'really was beautiful'."

"Okay? Maybe just a joke in poor taste. All your bosses are very old," England reasoned.

"... then he went on to describe exactly what made me beautiful, which included my eyes and hair, and, um. Well, it got a lot creepier from there, but you get the point. And then the other day, I was in a thrift store and some toddler went up to me and called me beautiful. Again."

"Huh. That is strange," England said, though he didn't really care.

"Yeah. But, you know, the worst part isn't even getting unwarranted comments on my appearance in public. The worst part is that society has degenerated to such a point where there's a staggering amount of people that deem it acceptable to call a random stranger 'beautiful' in public. 'Beautiful' is such an intense word to begin with, y'know? Why not... why not 'pretty', or-or anything else?"

"Yeah, that is strange," England said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Yeah. I mean, what the hell, right?" America laughed a bit, an attempt to take the seriousness of the situation away. "So yeah, I keep getting those comments all the time, and when they're from a toddler it's whatever, but when it's from... my boss..."

England coughed. "Right. What— what did you want from this conversation, exactly? Advice?"

"No. I just wanted to know if you'd consider me conventionally attractive."

"I've never thought about it before."

"Damn. Well can you hurry up and think about it now, please?"

"No."

"Damn."

"Why can't a man be both beautiful and conventionally attractive, America?" France asked him.

"Yeah, I guess so. Thanks, France."

France shook his head, repeated, "Why can't a man be both?" and America understood that he was speaking generally.

A/N: I wrote this because being this beautiful really is a curse, ngl. Anyway I'm going to be posting a few things today because I'm not gonna have reliable internet for at least a few days after today.

A review would be hella peng. Have a great day.