Title: PD # 8
Rating: PG
Paring: kinda-sorta-not really- USUK?
Theme: none
Summary: Rock vs. Rock.
Warnings: none
The loud pounding music was thudding in America's ears. The beat of the drum, the cry of the guitar, the toneless cheer of the crowd; all of it Rock. It was a music that started in him and grew in him. It was his.
Except when old men think they can do it better.
England had smirked and crossed his arms. "You know that I'm telling the truth. My 'Rock' scene is just better than yours." He looked like a true star in his black shirt and henna tattoo. The Union Jack proudly displayed on the side of his chest.
America and all his brilliant stupidity had said, "Wanna bet?"
And that bet lead them to this moment. They were both on the stage, side by side, singing to a crowd of hundreds at an underground concert somewhere in America. Anyone with talent was allowed. And America and England had talent. The song was finishing and the crowd was crying out for more. Rock did not get better than this.
America felt the sweat dripping down off his forehead as the last chorus started. His blue shirt was soaked through with it. England's black shirt was not better off but neither of them would change it for the world. They both felt as if they could live or die on this stage. The crowd was amazing, the band incredible, and the atmosphere was perfect.
America looked sideways to England as the other nation finished the last note of the song. He placed his hand on England's shoulder. "Still think that your rock is better, Iggy?"
England smirked, "Wanna bet?"
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