Sweet Symphony

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN HETALIA

Matthew hated any class dealing with math therefore it was a given Matthew was less than pleased to start his day with geometry. He was sitting in the back corner of the room in front of a bookshelf holding a plethora of dust laden novels. In a way though he knew for a fact that by the end of the year each one of those books would get to see the florescent light of the open schoolroom, he adored reading. He definitely liked reading a hell of a lot more than geometry. His only question was why were there so many non-math-related books in the class anyways? Perhaps it had once been an English room before hand. Well whatever the reason at least he had a distraction to this dreary subject.

The bell sounded releasing him from the cold confines of angle bisectors and tossing him into the hallway of a bustling Americans rushing along to get to their next class. The sound pounded against his ears. Why were they so loud? Most of the people they were talking to were jostling alongside them anyways. He didn't understand their brazen-ness, but he supposed in time he'd adjust. Matthew moved along the hallway just as fast as the Americans after all he had to get to his class too.

Matthew silently strode to the back of the class, taking a seat in the back row. He sighed, he felt at ease back here, alone with his thoughts, he really did. He sat looking to the front of the room, waiting for the teacher to walk in, though instead the next person to stroll in class was burly looking dark skinned guy, tall and with a brooding air about him. He stalked to the back row giving Matthew a criticizing look over. The unknown guy furrowed his eyebrows, and then out of nowhere his face softened. "Small, blonde, and quivering, and I haven't seen you before… so that must mean you're Matthew." Matthew didn't know how he should respond so he merely nodded. "Thought so, you're the new alto player, yeah?" Another nod was warranted. "Cool, by the way I'm Ramon. I play trombone." Now Matthew didn't want to boast but he didn't easily forget a face, "I-I don't r-remember you from class yesterday…" "Nahhh, I was playing hooky." Ramon grinned. So this kid was one of those casually-skipping-school delinquents. Well then, he surely didn't want to get mixed up with him. Ramon took the seat directly to the left of Matthew and continued to stare at him.

When the teacher finally graced the room with his presence and began to teach, Ramon resolved to putting his head down on the desk on folded arms. Matthew couldn't believe the teacher wasn't doing anything about Ramon's defiant snoozing, but what shocked him more was when the teacher still neglected to take action when half the class had put their heads down. Matthew thought it was insane but said nothing; maybe not doing a thing was just this teacher's work ethic.

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As Matthew entered the band hall for the second day, and almost immediately he was approached by the seemingly always bubbly (could adults even be described as bubbly?) Mr. Jones. "Welcome back, Mattie! D'ya have a good first day?" "Oui, Monsieur Jones." The band director smiled, "Good, good. Can't have my new little alto being all uncomfortable, chillax though if you're nervous about making friends, we band kids stick together, like a force of nature, seriously." We band kids it amused Matthew that Mr. Jones actually included himself as one of the band kids, it coaxed the corners of his pale pink lips up. "And there we have it," Mr. Jones clapped him on the back, "You're first smile! Ahh the joys of the band hall reach all." Mr. Jones laughed obnoxiously and pushed the small blonde away to his slot. As Matthew put his instrument together he really couldn't decided if he thought Mr. Jones was a good guy or just ridiculously insane. In the end he figured both.

Besides Mr. Jones' crazy antics band class went on just like any other. Today they worked on a song entitled 'Symphonic Dance No. 3'. For Matthew being a born and bred northerner he had never played music with such Spanish influence and rhythms. It really made him happy to play such punching music, even if it made him sound like a major band geek.

Matthew was putting up his instrument keeping to himself when he got rudely bumped into. "Oh, excuse me," came a rather brash voice. He looked up to find a silver haired boy glaring at him smugly. The boy's red eyes held jealousy, but Matthew couldn't imagine why. Matt just stared up at him. "So like, I get that you're new and shizz and you're getting mild attention, but for the record, I am pretty much center stage here, cuz well I'm just that awesome. So don't get used to all the fuss, it'll wear off when people get over you." Mr. Jones walked out of his office and made his way over to Matthew a paper in hand. "Gil, you're not terrorizing my little Mattie here now are ya?" Something in Gil's face changed when Mr. Jones had called Matthew 'his', but in the end the boy just scoffed, "Of course not, Jonesy," and walked away.

"Don't mind him, he can be a meanie-face, but honestly he's a good kid. What'd he say to you anyways?"

"Not to get used to the attention, because it belongs to him, but I swear I don't want it, really!"

"Ah, well it's not like he'll do anything to you, he's all talk. Anyways, here."

Mr. Jones handed him the paper he had brought along with him.

"Ordinarily with the event happening so soon I wouldn't expect a new student to do a solo but after hearing you play I'm sure you'll handle it just fine. Why don't you stop by my office after school and play it for me anyhow, just so I can judge if that's a good choice for you, alright?" Matthew nodded. "Alright then, it's a date, see ya Mattie."

The bell rang leaving them all to get along to lunch. The day before Matthew had opted out of eating to instead hide in the bathroom alone for half an hour. Honestly though he just didn't wasn't to have to deal with trying to find a place to sit when everyone else had their established lunch posse. Matthew began his decent to the bathroom again an ashamed blushed mildly present on his features when a girl's voice called his name. "Matt, you should come eat with us!" Matthew wasn't sure of her name but he recognized her as one of the tenor players from class. He reluctantly followed her to a table in the corner of the cafeteria nearest the band hall, and sat next to her. The other kids seated at the table watched him take his silent seat, and then looked at the girl that had guided him there expectantly. "Okay okay, so you all of you probably know this," she gestured," is Matthew. Matthew let's introduce you to your new friends, since we decided to claim you as one of us." Most of the table made movements of agreement to her statement, as if bringing Matthew to the table really had been a discussion amongst them, who knows maybe it had been. "Mkay, so to your left is Feliks," who wiggled his fingers in a flamboyant type of wave, "Then there's Toris, who sits next to you in band, and that there is Roderich, Ramon, Vash, then there's Ivan a senior and no he's not as creepy as he looks. This here is Gilbert, the egomaniac and me, Elizebeta." She smiled at him warmly, "And as of right now you're one of us!" Feliks put his elbows on the table, laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them, clearly studying Matthew intently. "So like, I think the main question is: Where'd you move in from? Dallas? Corpus?" All eyes were on Matthew, he swallowed down his shyness and spoke, "Canada." It was Ramon who interjected to that. "Wait, I thought they only spoke French in Canada?" Rod looked at him with disdain, "Honestly, didn't you know they have two official languages there? It's not that uncommon for a Canadian to speak English," he chided. "Actually if the question is: do I speak French, then yes, I'm fluent in it." Gilbert looked at him for the first time since he'd gotten to the table. "He's fluent in two languages? That's pretty awesome… I like awesome… and being awesome… wait what if he's bluffing? Stealing my attention…" "Prove it!" Gil demanded, he wanted proof. So without further ado Matthew spoke quite clearly and in a foreign tongue that the others could only be amazed by. Gil just stared at him, damn if only he spoke French so he could understand and confirm, it sure sounded like French-like. "Yo, Vash, translate?" Vash really didn't want to get involved in Gilbert's stupidity but translated nonetheless. "He said his name is Matthew, that he's sixteen, that yes he really does speak French and English and that it was embarrassing to prove himself," Vash finished and continued to eating quietly. As much as Gil wanted to be mean to Matthew for stealing attention from him again, he had to admit that knowing two languages was awesome and being self proclaimed king of awesome he had to give mad props for such displays of awesomeness. Gil didn't praise him willingly, instead he sat there brooding.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope this isn't dreadful! Oh, and thank you for the story alerts! I'd just like to say that the song mentioned "Symphonic Dance No.3" is by no means mine, it was written by Clifton Williams. Go check it out on youtube. It's a great song, I've played it. Review? PLEASE?