America couldn't believe it. Like he really couldn't believe it. Even going as far to clean any smudges off of Texas before staring at the role roster again in disbelief.
France.
Francis-Fucking-Bonnefoy had beaten him, Alfred-Foster-Jones at the try-outs for the school's Spring play!
This was just so…unreal! He was America! He had Broadway! And what did that prissy Frenchmen have?! Alfred wasn't totally sure to be honest. But whatever he had couldn't be nearly as amazing as HIS Broadway! I mean did the judges even see Hamilton?! What could be more awesome than the world's hero's fight for independence and his founding?! Surely nothing that France had to offer. If he had, Alfred would have made Marquis de Lafayette the protagonist of the play, which just sounds ridiculous the more he thought about it.
Perhaps the worst part about the whole situation was that America was France's understudy. He was so close! He thought.
Normally things like the school drama club didn't matter to him, but America had gone out of his way to set this whole thing up! Even bribed the heads of the club, Japan and Greece, to make it "Romeo and Juliet"!
Yes, he knew it was overrated. And yes, he knew there were way better works of theatrical entertainment, but the whole point was to set him and England up!
Naturally, England knew the play by heart which made him perfect for any role really. It was Japan's call that he would play Juliet. And thankfully, Arthur went along with it and shrugged it off as an opportunity to relive the traditional nature of men playing women back in the day. The more authentic the better!
But this ruined the whole plan! Like a Shakespearian tragedy-level of ruin! He was supposed to be Romeo! Not smelly France! And the role of understudy was just insulting at this point.
America groaned and slumped his shoulders down.
Francis was going to kiss his crush! France was going to kiss England! ON THE LIPS! IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE SCHOOL-No…THE WHOLE WORLD! LITERALLY!
That creep would probably use tongue too!
Alfred's hands flew up into his hair and pulled at the roots in frustration, a grimace on his face.
With perfect timing, or not, depending on how you look at it, France slunk up behind Alfred and smiled at the roster.
"Oooo~ Moi? Romeo? I'm not sure why I'd expect anything less. Wouldn't you agree Amerique?"
America puffed out his cheeks immaturely, "yea, makes sense. You do smell like a 1500's Italian guy's nutsack. The director wants to be as authentic as possible I hear."
France only chuckles and rubs the other's back, "oh Amerique, that's the smell of a grown man."
America wasn't so sure about that. He was pretty sure that 'grown men' smelled like Old Spice Bodywash. That hot black guy with the diamonds and a horse sure looked pretty manly, and that means he must smell like one too!
"Some of us actually like to smell decent, while still being manly of course!" Al commented and started to walk away, but not before France could reply.
"A can of Axe per day isn't real cologne Alfred~" he smirked.
Al growled, "shut up! You're not 'real' dumbass!" He headed home for the day.
Francis could only snicker and remember that England and America shared a talent for less-than-tactful insults. He was curious as to why America was so upset though. Maybe low self-esteem, he thought but shrugged the boy's attitude off as sexual frustration.