I worked really hard on this, so I hope you like it. If you don't please tell me, or else how am I suppose to get better? Thank you to everyone who commented in the past, you guys are the reason I continued :D

Enjoy

Chapter 4: The Call

After storming off, Arthur paused to turn around.

How come that bloody frog isn't following me? Ugh, this is what I get for trying to be sentimental. Just because my eyebrows are slightly larger than average doesn't mean that I don't have a heart and emotions. Why won't that frog bastard believe me? I can't even think about this. It's depressing.

Suddenly Arthur became aware of the bright words shinning across the street; Awesome Town. How original. Arthur rolled his eyes, walking to what he thought was a poorly named bar. On the door were the words 'Where awesomeness checks in, but never checks out'.

Wow great name and pun, Arthur thought sarcastically. Nonetheless, Arthur walked in and sat down at the bar.

"What will it be?"Arthur glared at the Albino, great one of Francis' friends.

"I'll have a scotch on the rocks."

"Oh, Arthur, hey I almost didn't notice you with that leaf on your head." The bartender reached over and removed a leaf that managed to stick to his head for twelve blocks through whipping wind and a slight rain.

Firstly, that doesn't seem possible. That must be one sticky leaf, and secondly, what do you mean you didn't notice me with that leaf on my head? It's not like if Alfred put a leaf on his head people would start to think he was Mat- Mathieu. Marcus? Max? Marty? Marc? Whoever that other guy was, I think he's the diplomat for that other country near America.

"Are you okay?"

Of course I'm okay, that's why I walked into a bar at- what time is it?

Arthur checked his watch, a gift from Francis.

Great, now I'm in a bar at 11PM thinking about Francis.

"Ugh, no, love troubles."

"I know how that can be." The man placed his hand upon a frying pan sized bruise on his arm that Arthur hadn't previously noticed.

"What happened?"

"You know how it is. You say 'I love you' and they say it back, except without any of the words, and with a frying pan."

"Yeah, I guess all love is like that…"

What's wrong with him? Anyone hitting you with a frying pan isn't into you.

The man,quickly realizing the doubt in Arthur's voice, spoke.

"Most relationships are like this. If you're not the one getting hit, you're the one holding the pan. Yeah, take you and Francis for example," Arthur twitched slightly at mention of the other's name. "Francis has been pining after you for years, but every time he tells you how he feels, you hit him with a frying pan." The German put his hand on his back. "Well I guess in your case, your frying pan would be words, which, in my opinion, hurt a lot more."

Francis loving me and I, the gentleman, replying with hate? Well I'd never! I mean there was the one time where I said I loathed him, or the other where I declared my undying hatred towards the frog. Or the other where I called him a pervert, but he was trying to remove my shirt in a public place! The time where I denied his marriage proposal, but he was trying to marry me for my money. I remember one time when we were trapped on some creepy alien ship and I pressed what resembled me on a map and it said that I loved Francis then I started screaming at both Francis and the machine. Come to think of it, I'm always screaming at Francis. Maybe I should apologize for the window fiasco. I need to talk to him, but I can't to his face…

Arthur looked down at his fourth scotch.

I should text him.

The song on the speakers in the bar changed from some random LMFAO song to Took My Love, by Pitbull.

Oh the irony.

Arthur looked for his phone, but when he couldn't find it and the shock died down he remembered that it had been defenestrated. Arthur sighed. Meanwhile Gilbert had left he to answer a call within a few moments he returned holding the phone towards the Briton. "It's for you." Arthur waited for a moment before answering the call.

"Hello."

"Arthur?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"What the Hell do you care frog face?"

"I was concerned about you after you left. Did you make it home safely?"

"Concerned? If you were concerned then you would have followed me! Then you would've known if I had made it home safely." Anger boiled up inside of Arthur.

Who the hell does he think he is? 'I was concerned about you.' What does that even mean? Stop trying to confuse me you bastard! Why did it take you an hour to call if you were so damn concerned?

"Have you been drinking?"

"It's none of your business."

If you cared so much why didn't you accept my feeling? Why didn't you say them back? Wait a second.

A sudden realization washed over Arthur.

He never said it back. I had been so focused on getting the Frenchman to believe my feelings that I'd forgotten to make sure that he felt the same!

With every second Arthur become more and more aggravated.

"I just care that the person I care for is alright, is that a crime?"

"No one fucking care how you feel you frog bastard!"

I'm sick of obsessing over that frog I need something to get my mind off of this.

Arthur quickly scanned the bar and noticed a familiar face.

And I think I found just that something.

"Mais, mon cher, I'd hate to hear something bad happen to you."

"Sure, whatever. So what's the real reason you called?"

"I wanted to speak to you about your feelings without silly nuisances like autocorrect getting in the way."

"Auto correct isn't silly! Granted it's annoying, but it's a real probably real people have!"

"Probably?"

"Problem! You know what I mean you blasted frog!"

"Mon cher, it happens in real life, but far too often with you."

"Maybe I just can't work technology, ever think of that?!"

"And you've never improved?"

Who the heck does this guy think he his? Don't question my lack of technological abilities! I excel at so many things, frankly it would seem a bit mind boggling if I could work these damned contraptions! I have no business left with him, and he should learn to mind his own life.

"I don't need the third degree from you! Go to Hell!" Arthur hung up the phone, downed his, (what number is this?) seventh (?) scotch, and walked towards the American opposite him. Arthur stumbled quite a bit on his was, but found a chair to lean on once he reached the man.

"Hi"

"Hey dude." The other man practically hollered.

"Yo, Alfred, remember what I said about inside voices?" Gilbert warned from across the bar.

"Sorry, hey, I remember you. You're from the World Meeting. Arthur, right?"

"Yeah." After five minutes of meaningless banter, Arthur was making out with Alfred on top of his lap. Turns out he had recently suffered a break up with some Russian.

Francis walked into the bar and immediately noticed the Brit in the background sucking face with a chubby diplomat.

Oh.

Francis looked over at Arthur with an annoyed look on his face but didn't say anything. He simply walked over to Gilbert behind the counter.

"Oh, Francis! Um... Well, ah, about Arthur, I'm pretty sure he's drunk off his ass right now so I wouldn't take this too-"

"Ah, no worries, mon ami, I have no hard feelings towards the Brit. He's just being stubborn, as usual." the French man flashed a dazzling smile at his friend who simply shrugged and offered him something to drink. "Non merci, I want to keep my wits about me tonight so that when that annoy- that Brit, finally passes out, I can safely drive him home, without worrying about my crashing my car into a ditch somewhere."

"Oh, wow, I thought you were going somewhere completely different with that sentence... Well, go right on ahead my friend. I'll just go be awesome over there." the albino walked over to the other end of the bar to clean out some half empty mugs of beer- although Francis was pretty sure that drinking the rest of the beer wasn't very sanitary.

Suddenly Fireworks by Katy Perry blasted through the small pub. Alfred fumbled in his aviator jacket's pocket to find his phone while Arthur continued to drunkenly place kisses on the American's neck.

"Hello?... WHAT DO YOU WANT, IVAN?...YOU BREAK UP WITH ME AND THEN CALL ME AT- What?... Ivan..." Alfred's cheeks began to redden. "I... I'll be over in ten minutes..." he quickly jumped off Arthur's lap and rushed towards the door.

Not that Arthur noticed. He continued to kiss the chair affectionately before receiving a splinter to the lips.

He had finally passed out and was slumped over in his seat, head tilted to the side as he snored loudly. Francis took this as his cue to leave with the Brit. Francis ambled over to the inebriated Briton, and tried to rouse him from his intoxicated state.

"What the- What the bl-bloody Hell are y-you doing here you st-stink... you stinking fr-frog!" Arthur hiccuped as he flailed away from Francis' outstretched hands.

"You're drunk and in no state to get yourself home safely, Arthur. Be reasonable-" Francis started before being cut off by the green eyed man.

"I can d-do whatever I-I w-want you slobb-slobber... Shut up! Lemme g-g-go, ummmm... I wanna g-go dancing!" the Brit shouted before moving at a speed Francis thought was impossible for a drunk person. He ran for the door and dashed out in a second. The French man sighed and calmly walked out of the bar. He leaned against the door frame as he laughingly watched Arthur make a proper fool out of himself.

He was dancing on the sidewalk, his moves shifting from a waltz to a spaz attack as his erratic dances began to coincide to the rhythm of a German sparkle party. France sighed as he followed the bumbling Brit attempting to moonwalk into the street.

"Arthur, please, at least be careful," pleaded the Frenchman while handing him back his phone.

"Don't...don't t-tell me w-what to do!" Arthur ripped the phone from his hand and shoved it down his left pants pocket. "I'll be careful when I- you know what? I don't know! Why do you hate me?! What did I ever do to deserve this!? Why are my pants still on? This is so annoying! They're on both my legs! Take them off, take them off! Wait no, don't touch me! I'm thirsty! I want another scotch. Will you get me another scotch? Get me another scotch right now!"

"I don't hate you, Arthur."

"I want to parrrrrrrrrrrr...ty! Where's that bloody Yankee when you need him? Hewas fun and he actually likes me! I miss him, what did you do to him you French bastard?! I don't need you to try and protect me!" Arthur ran off into a lamppost.

"Sorry m'lady" Arthur apologized thinking the item he bumped into was a human. "You have such a bright personality. You're so funny... You want to do what?... We've only just met... I suppose...The Frenchie over there?...No, he likes to watch...he's been following me for a while...his place...honhonhonhon...wait, what? no, you're cute...how dare you!...they're perfectly averaged sized...well do you pluck your eyebrows?...touche..." Arthur started to move his hands up and down the sides of the lamp post. "You're so thin... Come back to my place and I'll cook you up some scones...MY FOOD IS EXCELLENT!...WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HEARD OTHERWISE?...the mailbox?... Why are you talking that mailbox? You know she's a LYING SLUT!... this clearly isn't going to work out..I don't care if you're sorry... well... I guess... When you say it like that it makes sense...maybe...oh?...really?... give me your number and I'll call you back sometime...I promise...no I won't give you mine!...I shouldn't have to explain!...It never would have worked out anyway...it's definitely you, have you looked at me? I'm bloody perfect." It began to slowly drizzle. "No baby, don't cry...you will find love someday, it just wasn't meant to be for us, in fact, I'm so jealous of whoever's gonna get to marry you...well that's because-" Arthur dashed off trying to avoid the lamp post's stare. Arthur was so busy looking back that he didn't notice the trash can he ran into.

"Sorry sir." Arthur picked up the trash can and placed the lid on his head as Francis walked towards him. "Really, I can keep the hat?... you're such a gentleman...actually there's a pretty desperate lamp post back there... anytime my good man... I bid you ado... really, a sleep over?... sure."

Arthur was passed out on the alley way floor, curled up into a little ball. Francis smiled down on him before taking him to his car and laying his down on the back seat. He drove to the Brit's address, which he had had memorized for as long as he could remember.

"I could never hate you, Arthur."