Hello and welcome elleraine08, to the Philippines! Enjoy your flight!

The song is not mine. Viewer discretion is advised. This is dedicated (?) to Jamich. May he rest in peace. (Even though I don't really know him that much but, meh.)

There was something weird that morning when Basty woke up.

There was something warm next to him when he did.

There was something creepily... tomato-y...

Then it all clicked.

And he screamed.

Oh, how he screamed.

"Ai Diosmio! Basty?" Spain turned to his companion with an annoyed look. "It's still too early to have a commotion, just go back to sleep." Then the Spaniard turned and snuggle himself into a cocoon of blanket, comfortable and contented.

Basty on the other hand, was awestruck, dumbfounded, surprised, embarrased and well, was freaking out. I mean, who wouldn't? You just woke up next to a guy-who was -is your life-long enemy and the only one who knew your secret ever since you were still a child (not to mention the older was a little good-looking)-erhg, even the very thought made him cringe.

He hated the Spanish man with every fiber of his body. He even hated his very existence-but probably not as much as Romano, though he doubted it. I mean sure, the guy was generous enough to spare him during the war, did everything in his will to sustain his people and his land not to mention, share his delicious cuisine-which was by the way DE-to the- LI- to the- CIOUS. But he WAS the one who backstabbed him and sold his only sister - Borneo/Beatrice to slavery- but I guess he did that to gain money to take care of them? Gah! Damn you paradox! Why must you be so damn confusing?

Basty sighed. I guess it wouldn't be hard to let him stay for a few days... maybe?

Gah! He shouldn't be thinking of this so early in the morning! It's gonna give him a major headache.

'I do wonder what happened to my brothers,' was what he thought. But honestly, he could care less on what was going on... even if he IS after all related...in some way. Every man for himself, wasn't that what Cory Aquino said? Or maybe it was someone else...

Emman did not wake up happy that morning.

Hell, he didn't wake up at all! He was already awake, and believe me when I say this, last night did not go as planned.

Since there was only one bed in the room, and coincidentally it was summer and all the extra beds were occupied and none were in stock, he just had to pull an all-nighter on the couch. However it proved to be a challenge since the American he rooming with snored half as loud as a blue whale... that is, if whales do um... snore...

But no worries; he had his trusty laptop and music! However that SEEMED to have worked for a while but somehow, Alfred FANTABULOUS Jones's snores reached to a million Hz and practically destroyed his sleep and well, probably the rest of his sanity that night. And we almost all know what happens to a groggy Filipino who doesn't get enough sleep.

The guy stood from the couch, hissing in pain from the terrible backache he got from sitting too long on the couch then headed downstairs, not bothering if he looked like crap and just had a hangover which he assumed one of his brothers did-after all who couldn't resist that tempting bar just a few floors below? CERTAINLY not him. Mind the heavy exaggeration please.

He scratched his eyes as he pressed the the 'down' button at the elevator, waited for a few moments then entered through the pair of parted metal doors, ignoring the awkward looks foreigners and other of the same nationality gave him.

He didn't mind.

He didn't care if he was still in his pajamas (that was mainly a pair of jogging pants and a random white shirt, other than that, he looks like a vampire from the dead).

He didn't care if he looks like a wreck and reeks like 'insomnia.'

He didn't even think that this was embarrassing! I mean, no one around knows you, and they sure as hell wouldn't care. All he wanted was good calm early morning snack to get started. (Friend: Dude, that's called breakfast... Me: Don't care what it's called!)

...

At times like these, (it was Saturday, I think?) usually Basty always woke up around late morning not because of the amount of phone calls and paperwork he had to do, followed by Danny who's probably busy reading and watching Mortal Instruments and Harry Potter again and again or maybe finishing up the details of that new theater or was it a coliseum? Meh, Emman couldn't really care that much.

He made his way to the table (that had a sofa as chairs nearby the window) where his brothers were, Danny doodling on a newspaper he assumed he bought while Basty was furiously scribbling down notes and tuning his guitar, face pink and brows furrowed which was kinda strange since the last time he saw the elder this flushed and furious whilst songwriting was when he embarrassed him in front of his now ex-gir- Oh...

Smirking, he slid down next to Danny who he now knew was doing a puzzle and drawing Batman on the gray paper. "You guys are up early," he commented. "'Specially you, Bas. Did something EMBARRASSING happen?"

Basty flinched. Holy crap, he actually flinched! Milestone achieved! Emman's smile curled up larger.

"Oh wait, did Spain found out your little 'secret'?"

A string was plucked.

Bingo!

He chuckled. "Don't worry, bro, he was bound to figure out sooner or later," Emman reassured. "But I guess it was SOONER than it was." He snickered.

Basty sighed and continued to write the damned song he was to make for the Pres's daughter's birthday, which was hard since it was a GIRL's party. And he hardly knew anything about women, save for their boss but she didn't count cause she was a...you know. He had the tune now all he really needed was the lyrics. He already gave a sample of the music to Danny since you know, he's the poetic one.

Silence engulfed the table until Emman took out his phone and made selfies after selfies after selfies. Gee, could that guy be more of a self-centered jerk? The other two decided to ignore it.

Danny suddenly smiled then began scribbling fast on the paper and after a full three minutes, he ripped a piece off and handed it to Basty.

They were lyrics.

"Um... Danny?" The elder asked. "I am really grateful but... how the hell can you manage to make a full-on lyrics in just three minutes?"

Danny smirked.

"Cause I -" He pogi-posed, "- am awesome."

Basty eyerolled. Make that TWO annoying self-centered brothers.

"No seriously," Danny said, "I really am."

"Ooookay," Basty said. He looked at the scribbles again (Sis: *words, those are words...Me: Don't care! I'm on a roll!) then back to the paper he wrote then back to the first one. "So, should I play the G chord first or should I play the C-"

"I dunno, Basty! I'm not the one who's making the song a'ight? Payts na? (Somewhat: Okay?) What I give you is what you get, you do what you do, leave me out of this okay?" Translation: I'm too lazy doodling than helping you make a song because I'm so pogi that it'd make Prussia-probably-fade.

Basty sighed again for the third time that morning and began playing his guitar. Somehow, the very thought of playing inside a cafe that is half full of people that might probably know them was a very bad idea. Not to mention since it's public, people might crowd around the area they were in.

Yeah, he needed a better location than the cafe.

Pool? No too much people.

Park? Plaza? Too much people.

Garden? ... Garden sounds good, I guess?

I mean, what could go wrong over there? Half the countries are still asleep, there's no way people would crowd him over there!... Right?

But oh, how wrong was he! For there was one country that he did not expect to appear there: Guam.

Her eyes dilated and sparkled once she caught sight of him. "Kuya Sebastian!" (I don't know her language... so yeah...) Basty cringed. He didn't know what to feel right now. Should he be surprised? Should he be insulted to be called someone else's name? Should he be glad that he didn't come across Malaysia? That still remains a question. Right now, he should focus on not snapping in front of the child.

"Oh, hi, Andrea," Basty greeted, trying to be nice. "What brings you here in the middle of a large hotel where no one is around to take care of you?" He knelt down to the small child... well the smaller child. (Basty: WHO YOU CALLING SHORT THAT HE-!)

"I was heading to Brunei's house because Malaysia told me that he's gonna kill Danny for stealing some of her durian and calling her mean things last night," Andrea said, innocently. But to Basty's case... not so much.

Oh, God, some day those two are gonna be a pair-or worse... a couple... Basty thought, shivering.

"Are you okay?" Guam asked. Basty smiled at the (ungodly) offspring of Philippines and America.

"Yeah...let's get you to Brunei."

Will Basty ever finish his song? Will we finally meet the other Asian nations? Will Yolanda and Ruby appear in the next episode/chapter? Find out in Morning Rush 2.

I feel like Danny needs more screen time. So sorry! This is all I can do for now! Morning Rush Pt. 2 will probably be out soon...or later...

Till then Review!

Replies:

Parallel Pairs: I need help. And yeah, I need more drabbles. I'm too busy...summer classes and all? Yeah...

Madam Bakunawa: I believe you're talking about aswang. And yeah... a diwata to be more precise.

Avelina Teuton: You know what? *turns to audience and points to you* this is one. Hella. Amazing. Dudette! I don't know if I should be flattered more than I already am with the others. XDXD

Question: Guess what song it is, and I'll give you a prize!

Clues: Ang pagiging pogi't maganda, it ain't a crime! ;)

And yeah, before anything else, I might edit this chapter I feel it's kinda different and turning to the wrong direction. Opinions?