A/N: Sorry for the long wait you guys! Here it is, their first song! I wish I could show you how it sounds but its only up to you if you want to follow the link at the bottom to listen to it. Enjoy~
Mon petit imbecile=My little imbecile
Vierge=virgin
Collège=What the French call middle school, for ages 11-15
"Damn you all." Mathias griped. Currently, the dusty old box in his hands was giving him quite the struggle. Damn that stupid curb he had to drop this goddamn heavy box at and damn the stupid garage it was stuck in because it was too motherfu- um, goshdarn heavy to carry. He threw the box to the floor of the garage, causing everything inside it to band together and make an awkward, out of place mixture of jingles and clanks.
"May I remind you that you arrived two hours late?" Francis commented nonchalantly from his task of sorting out what the Dutch man, Morgens, could keep to sell in a yard sale and what was too hopelessly broken to salvage.
Mathias let out a noise of distaste and proceeded to defend himself. "Come on bro, I was only, like one and three quarters of an hour late. Fifty minutes, give or take."
Arthur could only roll his eyes. Morons. He would go through physical strain if that was what was required to keep moving forward, but this? This was just him paying for someone else's tomfoolery. Why should he receive punishment? He's the one who was thrown across a café. And worst of all, that idiotic Dane had been the one to put everyone through this much grief (and the frog, but he was always at the root of Arthur's problems anyways), and he had been able to get away with missing out on almost half the labor! At this point, Arthur Kirkland, heir of Avox Enterprises and the grand, esteemed Kirkland family, was completely and utterly pissed off.
"You two should just silence yourselves and continue on with your work!" he snapped at the both of them. Mathias just rolled his eyes in frustration while the usually suave Francis bristled at the order and stood up from his kneeling. Nobody ordered him around outside of the bed!
"Always need to boss people around, mon petit cretin. Maybe you need to start topping for once. Or rather, actually get laid." Franics sneered at him. Mathias chuckled and Antonio and Gilbert, who were sorting right beside Francis on the dirty cement floor of the garage, couldn't help but laugh quietly as well.
"You're your own cock block, vierge." He finished, stooping back down to rummage around the boxes again. By now Gilbert couldn't help but hoot with laughter. "Oh man Francey, burnnnn!" he cried out between his chortles.
Arthur's face flushed with anger before he began his rebuttle. "Well, guess what frog!" he clenched his fists at his sides. "At least I wasn't the moron that got us here!" he screamed.
"'Excuse me cher, that would be him." Francis jammed his thumb towards Mathias, who opened his mouth to protest then hung his head in shame at Antonio and Gilbert's glares. "And anyways," Francis continued, his voice of velvet dangerously quiet. He walked over to Arthur and grabbed his chin to force him to look up at him-he was taller, a fact that he reveled in in his childhood. Arthur struggled, but Francis grabbed onto his arm as well, holding him into place. "You're just some spoiled brat who's throwing a tantrum because he doesn't like sharing the burden of the group. " His cerulean eyes were dark and gazed with fury down upon Arthur, who was still trying to wiggle out of the French boy's grip. Francis released him and took two steps back. "Now let's finish this so we won't be burdened with another's presence any longer."
Arthur shook his head in anger before making his way to the far corner of the garage and unhappily going through the boxes of old sheet music and folders there. Mathias ducked his head down as he went over to the pile of old instruments and tried to examine what was broken and what was not. "Awkward," he muttered to himself.
And then he realized how big this pile of junk was. "Francis, Gilbert, Antonio. Kinda need your help over here."
The trio got up after stacking the last boxes of salvageable products and joined Mathias at the ceiling-high pile of instruments. The Dane chanced a glance towards Arthur's direction. The stuffy English student was already done putting what ripped up or generally trashed music there was in the rubbish and was just finishing up putting the good folders and music in a neat pile on the floor. This colossal pile facing them was the only one left then.
All that Gilbert could see however was a mountain of awesomeness. He swiped an electric guitar and started to swing it around like crazy. "Guys look at this I'm an awesome rock star because I'm just that awesome!" he shrieked.
Antonio sighed and sat down against the wall. He really wanted to play his guitar in the park today but because of the people he surrounded himself with- or rather, who barged in and surrounded him- he had to lose one of his favorite times to clean out a garage. He had brought his guitar, hoping to be able to finish quickly and head for the park, but at the rate they were going at he'd be frozen by the autumn evening.
Francis gently picked up an old microphone and its stand with interest as he admired it. "Look at that," he mumbled. "Top condition. I remember this model, it was one of our greatest sellers."
Mathias couldn't help but be tempted. Oh so tempted. Because revealed from under the microphone and guitar was a drum set and good God, it was a beauty. Complete but not overly accessorized, it was perfect. He couldn't help it. Dragging it out of the pile in mere seconds, he giggled like that Hungarian student when she looked at her camera's pictures.
"Dudes! Dudes! We should like totally do a song together!" he squealed eagerly.
"When did you turn into Feliks?" Francis asked. He and the Polish boy were good friends actually, and would meet up to talk about the latest fashion trends once in a while.
"Shut up!" Mathias snapped, before continuing on. "But guys, we should like, seriously do a song! You all do know how to play an instrument, right?"
"Yes," Antonio answered morosely, looking at the instruments everyone had. "But count me out. I don't do these kinds of songs."
"Well, I do know how to sing. I was trained professionally by the best of Paris." Francis said proudly. "And I did take lessons on how to play guitars when I was little awesome me." Gilbert followed.
"Let's do something then!" Mathias cried. "Arthur!" he called. "Wanna join in?"
Arthur jerked a bit at the sound of his name. Currently, he was just arranging his pile this way and that to avoid facing those idiots, but now that he was called there was no way around it. Joy.
"No," he retorted. "I only play classical, ruffians."
"He is lying," Francis said. "The little punk took lessons for electric guitar when he was in collège." Mathias eyes widened.
"OMFG, are you serious?! Stick up the ass here actually was a punk rocker?!" he screamed, almost as if in horror.
Arthur huffed and quickly made Mathias come back from the land of crippling shock. "Yes, and I'm not proud of it, but I'm quite finished with the entire phase anyways. I was immature at that time." He clarified, walking over from his spot in the corner.
"Oh, but one song wouldn't hurt would it? Please?" Mathias begged. "No," Arthur said firmly. "Please?" Mathias whimpered. "Pleaaaaase?"
He thought it over for a moment, before finally sighing and giving in. "Only because I want to get out of this whole 'physical labor' state." He glared at them all, save Antonio. He had some respect for the Spaniard, who was smart enough at least not to participate in this madness.
"Oh merci, cher!" Francis replied giddily, as he went to adjusting his microphone. Mathias checked out his drums while Gilbert began to set up his guitar masterfully at lightning speeds. Arthur grabbed a guitar out of the pile and began to set his up as well. It had a worn Union Jack as the design, in comparison to Gilbert's, which was white, save for a black eagle and an obsidian crown design on the front.
In about ten minutes they were ready. "So guys…." Gilbert began. "… what should we play?"
Silence.
"Oh wait! I know this très super cool song!" Francis exclaimed excitedly. "It's called 'Ça c'est vraiment toi!"
"Speak English, asshole." Arthur droned. Francis sent a smirk in his direction. "Becoming a bit like your old rebel with the guitar in your hands, hmm cher?" Arthur blushed before grinding out, "Just shut up and explain your stupid song."
"Fine. In English, it is known as 'That is really you.' It's performed by a band called Téléphone."
Immediately a cry of recognition went through the group, except for Toni, who was longingly looking at his guitar. They still needed to finish cleaning the rest of that pile, but of course these people think about singing a pretty little song first.
"Oh yeah, I know that song!" Gilbert told them. "So do I… unfortunately." Arthur informed. "Yeah yeah, I remember that one pretty good!" Mathias concluded.
"Then if we all know it, how about we just jump into it?" Francis suggested. "Wait, no warm-ups?" Mathias asked. "Non, I know at least I'm above that." Francis answered confidently. He motioned for them to start. "Let's go!"
They did about thirty minutes of warm-ups after that.
"Okay," Francis declared, with a nod from the rest of the group. "Now we are ready."
With a single motion, as one body, they dived headfirst into the music.
A/N: The song they played, the version I intend to have them sing is the French-English combined one. It was on a FrUs AMV, but apparently the only lyrics I can get from the Internet is the completely French version. But I don't want that version. So just copy and paste into your browser: watch?v=alVz9z98EMU
