A/N: Second chapter already! Yay! ... And although it seems like this chapter could end things, it won't! I plan to write atleast one or two more chapters because I am determined to make this story end in CanadaXEngland Fluffiness and sexy times! Because there needs to be more of that, damnit! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this part! (I apologize for any typos or mistakes. It's unbeta'd X_X )

Disclaimer: I own Nothing!

As Canada shifted his car into drive and put his foot on the accelerator, he frowned and took a moment to glance at the older man in the seat next to him. He heaved a small sigh and focused on the road once more, turning on his right signal light as they turned out onto the highway. In all honesty, now that England was in the car with him, Canada was unsure as to where they should go next. There was suddenly an awkward silence, save for the radio that was playing quietly in the background. Despite the fact that they had decided it was time to talk, neither one seemed to be making an effort to do so now. Both men seemed unduly put out, which was normal for the Englishman, but not so much for the Canadian. The song playing on the radio shifted from one song to another that was faster sounding with some rather bitter sounding lyrics. The older of the two nations glanced down at the Radio and final broke the silence, question the younger man about the song.

"What's this song called? Who sings it?"

Canada glanced over his left shoulder and signalled as he switched lanes to pass someone who seemed incapable of doing the speed limit in front of him.

"Everything is Automatic, by the Matthew Good Band," came his response as he passed the slower driver, shooting a small glare in their direction.

"They're a Canadian band, aren't they?"

The younger nation gave a curt nod but said nothing. England narrowed his eyes slightly, getting a little bit frustrated that the other man didn't seem to want to speak much all of a sudden.

"You said you wanted to talk, so why the buttoned lips all of a sudden, hm? And where exactly are we going anyway?"

Canada remained focused on the road as he decided to speak again.

"We can talk once I'm not driving… as to where we're going, I don't know yet."

The Englishman muttered under his breath, suddenly wondering why he'd decided to climb into the car in the first place.

"How about a pub then?"

The Canadian suddenly looked over at the Englishman, giving him an incredulous look.

"What? I'm not drinking and driving!" He paused for a moment as he remembered something, " wait … actually, we can do that. There is a bar in the Hotel I'm staying at. You can just catch a cab to wherever your staying after."

The Canadian was angry, yes, but that did not mean he did not still care about the other man's safety. He wasn't about to offer to share his hotel room for the night though.

"Fine… sounds fair enough."

The rest of the Car ride to the Hotel was rather silent, save for the various irate mutterings that came from Canada as he chastised other people's driving abilities. England wondered if it was something he normally did, or if it was merely due to his currently rotten mood.

As they arrived at the Hotel which was rather posh looking, they drove into the underground parking lot, where the Canadian proceeded to park and then exit the vehicle. After grabbing his briefcase out from the back seat, he slammed the door shut and locked the doors. Glancing back over the roof top at England, he gestured towards an elevator just across the way.

"I want to take my stuff up to my room before we go down to the bar."

England shrugged and nodded slightly.

"That's fine. Lead on."

They made their way up to the room, which was on the 6th floor of the Hotel, and had an amazing view of the city. The room itself wasn't very large, but one could tell it was an executive suite. It contained one king sized bed, a desk, a mini bar with a coffee maker, a coffee table with two chairs, and a Bathroom which contained both a large shower and a small Jacuzzi bathtub, and other bathroom essentials. Placing his briefcase on the desk, the Canadian turned to his initially uninvited guest.

"Well then, let's head down stairs. You Don't want to be here all night I'm sure." There was a hint of bitterness in the Canadian's voice as he brush passed England and lead the way out the door.

They made there way down to the bar which was obviously of high class. The view, yet again was spectacular as the bar seemed to be surround by glass, and there was a pianist playing music in a small stage area backed by an enormous window, the city lights shining through, twinkling like stars.

Taking a seat at a table in front of yet another enormous window with a view, the two men each ordered a beverage as a waiter came to serve them. England opted for a scotch on the rocks, and Canada decided on white rum and coke. As the waiter left and then promptly returned with there beverages, England cast a glance at his young companion. He did not take long to begin question the younger nation.

"So then Matthew, what's with the snot-nosed attitude you seem to have today? It's not like you at all to be so snippy and rude."

Furrowing his brows, Canada glared down at his drink and then took a sip of it, but did not look up as the older nation bore into him with his emerald-hued eyes.

"A lot of nerve you've got there, calling me by that name … Arthur."

Finally, the Canadian looked up, his deep violet eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the other man's face for a moment.

"Heh… I could say the same. You best be watching your mouth, brat!"

The comment, interestingly enough, was not meant to be an offensive one. England was trying to make Canada feel comfortable, but he was not the type to baby someone, so sarcasm would have to do the trick.

In turn, Canada tried to look stern but noting the sarcastic tone to the older nation's voice, he could help but finally crack a bit of a smile. However, taking another sip of his drink, he decided that perhaps it was time to get down to business, especially since he was not sure how much longer he would be able to retain his confidence, and then resort back to his usual apologetic self.

"Humph … whatever you say."

England managed to crack a bit of a smile himself at that point, but then he too became serious.

"So then… out with it? What's up? What's got you so bothered?"

A sullen expression came over the Canadian's face as they got down to this business of talking. He went back to staring at his drink, watching the ice in it as he swished it around for moment. Finally, he looked back up, his expression both stern and yet sad at the same time.

"Truth be told… I'm just really getting tired of you and everyone else either mistaking me for America, or not even noticing me. I'm not America, and I know we look a like, but we're not the same at all! Do you know how frustrating it is to be mistaken for that obnoxious, loud-mouthed, egotistical jerk? I've even had people try and beat me up because they thought I was him! How would you like it is people started calling you France? Hm? Or better yet, how would YOU like to be called America? "

Once he got started, the words seemed to spew out of his mouth. England visible shuddered and shook his head at the thought of being mistaken for someone like France or America. It really wasn't a pleasing thought at all. However, before he could say anything, Canada continued on with his tirade.

"And when people aren't mistaking me for America, they completely ignore my presence! Why am I so invisible to all of you? I never get to share my opinions and ideas at meetings because nobody notices me! The only time I get noticed is when everyone thinks I'm bloody America!"

England was taken aback by the outburst, but couldn't help but notice the use of the word bloody. That caused him to recall that even though Canada had declared independence, he'd always been very close to the older man, having picked up some of his habits and language, without completely butchering them as America did. Of course Canada had made them his own, but he was still so much closer to England than America had ever been. He watched as the younger blond suddenly slammed back his drink and ordered another before bursting into another tirade.

"And you know what really pisses me off, Arthur! … What really pisses me off is the fact that YOU especially seem to forget me and YOU are the worst one for mistaking me for America when you do notice me! I know I'm not as powerful as America, and that I don't have as much history with you as everyone over in Europe, but I have never strayed from your side! I've always been loyal to you! To this very day, Your Queen is my Bloody Queen as well! My Countrymen and I fought in so many wars by your side, we killed for you, and were killed for you! And what have I got to show for it? You just forget about me, and only seem to remember me when it's convenient for you!"

The Canadian was quick to quiet himself, and glance away as the waiter brought him another drink. Without looking at the now very dumbstruck man sitting across from him, the young nation picked up his glass and took another sip of his drink. England, for once, was completely speechless as the Canadian's words sunk in to his mind.

"You … you've never looked at me like you've looked at America… and you always put me on the back burner. I've been able to forgive you for all that, but at the same time I just wish you would finally show me some real appreciation, and recognize me as a strong, independent nation… and see me as an Individual. I've just had it!"

It took a moment for England to finally find his voice again, and when he finally did, it sounded disheartened and a bit weak.

"Matthew, I never realized that you felt that way. I know apologizing won't change anything, but even so, I am very sorry. Although… I don't really understand why it's just me you feel that way about. I mean, France practically abandoned you!"

The Canadian remained quiet for a moment, again staring at his drink before slamming the potent liquid down again. Placing the now empty glass on the table, he stared at it a moment longer, as if gathering his thoughts, and then finally looked up.

"Forgive me for saying what I am about to say, Arthur … but the fact of the matter is this … I love you! … I always have, and probably always will. Even if you continue to ignore me, or mistake me for America. That's the reason why I've always remained loyal to you, even though sometimes it really kills me inside."

Without saying another word to the Englishman, Canada hailed the Waiter over and ordered another drink. After such a confession, it was hard not to try and bolt, but the young Nation was made of stronger stuff than that. Even though he was pretty sure that the older man did not share his feelings, he wasn't about to run like silly little girl. All England could do now, was stare at the man across the table from him, and for the second time that night he found himself speechless.

To be continued ...