Well, it appears that I've updated this sooner than I thought I would've. That doesn't mean I'm always going to update this frequently. Also, I'm trying to make the chapters in this story longer, knowing me I have a terrible tendency to write short chapters, and much too short stories overall.

Reviews would be nice. :)

America awoke with an annoyed hiss as his alarm clock rang out with multiple beeps. At first, the exhausted nation tried to drown out the noise by covering his ears with his pillow. To no avail of course, as the alarm continued to taunt the tired nation with it's exasperating sound. America had eventually remembered his morning routine, and immediately turned off the alarm. As he slid out of bed, he checked the clock to see what time it was. Putting on his glasses, he read the clock, noting that it was currently six thirty-two in the morning. The world meeting he had to attend would start at ten. Okay, so that leaves me about three and a half hours to prepare for this meeting, might as well start my light morning exercises.

Light was not the right word for what exercise America had in mind. Every morning, he would make himself perform two hundred push ups, one hundred sit ups, one hundred fifty lunges, one hundred pull ups, and then spend about one whole hour running on his treadmill at the rate of ten miles an hour. That was only for the morning, of course, there were more procedures of more intense exercise involved in his regular schedule throughout the day. America would no longer include the calories he burned from his morning exercises into his total number of calories burned. Since he feared the possibility of awarding himself for more than he actually achieved. To sum it all up, he just wanted to make sure that he was burning a decent amount of calories.

After America was finished with his inhumane morning exercise, he walked unto the scale to see if he had lost any weight. He was very despondent when the scale decided to land on one hundred thirty-eight and a half pounds. America glared at his watch, which was now starting to become loose on his wrist. It was now eight twenty-seven, and America hadn't even prepared himself for the meeting. Sighing, he grumbled to himself, "Well, I guess since there's not enough time to exercise any longer this morning, I'll just go take a shower. Breakfast is definitely out of the question."

The morning routine had continued, America had become distracted as he pinch at the fat on his body, wishing he could just get rid of all of it. Despite the distraction, America was able to finish up his preparation for the meeting in less than a half of an hour. The meeting would be taking place in his country, just like it had the day before, and America much preferred having it in his country. After all, he was obsessed with weighing himself on a scale, and what hotel provided weight scales?

Unlike the day before, America was able to make it to the meeting rather early. Instead of arriving late as he usually would, or use to. A few other nations were already there in the meeting room, but the atmosphere was almost dead silent. The only sound being heard was that of rustling papers from nations who were preparing paper for their notes. That is, if they were to pick up on anything useful at all.

Eventually, everyone else who was to attend the meeting had filed in. By the time everyone was staring expectantly at America, he began in a voice much quieter voice than usual, "So I would like to discuss more ways on how we can combat global warming. I thought that-"

England yelled with annoyance, "Speak up! No one can hear you when you mumble!"

America repeated himself in a more emphatic voice, but it was still nothing compared to how he would usually speak during these meetings, "I would like to discuss ways on how we can combat global warming! I-"

Of course he was interrupted once again. This time by France, who sighed, "You've been coming up with ridiculous plans for this same topic for a long time. How can this one be any better?"

Germany, the only nation who ever seemed to care about world meetings demanded in a harsh tone, "Just let him continue already!"

It didn't matter anymore if Germany tried to control the meeting or not at that point. What France had told America shattered all of his remaining confidence. Not only did America give up on his plan at that point, but when he tried to speak up in order to inform the other nations about his change of mind, he found that his voice wouldn't work correctly.

England was losing what little patience he had to begin with as he asked, "Well?"

After a long pause, America's voice returned, but what he said added to how pathetic the tone of his voice was, "Nevermind, the plan was stupid anyways."

Every nation in the board room began to yell at America angrily. Mostly complaints about how he had set up a pointless meeting. Then there was a riot. It was as if everyone in the room had forgotten about the inconvenience of the current meeting as they began to fight each other over what ever annoyed them about the other person. Some verbal wars becoming dangerously close to physical, or so it seemed. Greece slept through all of the yelling, typical.

By the time the fighting was on the verge of becoming too out of control to handle, Germany didn't seem to lose faith in the meeting, as he yelled out in his ever strong voice, "Enough! Zhe meeting only just started and everyone's already trying to rip at each ozhers throats! Now if anyone has anyzhing helpful to say about zhis topic, zhen raise you hand!"

Immediately, everyone was back in their assigned seats. The room was silent once more. As the meeting continued to drag on America began to grow more and more drowsy. Yes, the meetings were boring, and it was difficult for many nations to pay attention during them, but that was not the reason for America's drowsiness. As far as he knew, it was just the fact that he had hardly slept the night before, and now it was starting to catch up to him. The anger he had once held for staying up so late turned into dread as knew that he would have to sit through more boring speeches. Ones from nations that had probably prepared for America's plans based on past experience.

America didn't even realize it, but he was already dozing off, but not for long. The voice of France had abruptly awoken him, "Debout, you fat American! Every nation here has been trying to ask you if we could have a lunch break!"

The insult had stung America deeply, but his voice had shone no hurt as he replied tiredly, "Sure, you can all have a lunch break. Just make sure to return in an hour."

At first many nations gave America a confused glance, after all, an hour was quite a long time for a lunch break. Pretty soon however, they all shrugged it off, deciding not to question such a rare occasion during these tedious meetings. All America wanted to do was catch up on some sleep, therefore he put his head down in arms on the table, letting himself drift. Of course, his perfect opportunity to take a nap was interrupted as he heard someone ask, "Aren't you hungry at all?"

Arduously, America lifted his head to see who had disturbed his sleep, only to see that it had been England. The island nation seemed to be looking at him with slight concern. America shook his head, and then buried his face back into what ever warmth and padding his slender arms could provide. Instead of leaving him alone as America had hoped, England asked, failing to conceal the worry in his voice, "Alfred, are you feeling okay? You've been acting out of character lately."

America quickly lifted up his head, causing the world around him to spin for a moment, but if it was for the act, America decided that he had no choice. He plastered a fake smile across his face. The typical smile he usually produced that seemed exaggerated to other nations. Despite all of the negative thoughts America possessed, he tried his best to sound delighted, "I'm just fine! No need to worry about it."

Being over a thousand years old, England had enough experience to see past the simple act, but decided to make no comment. Instead he suggested, "Well, I think you should at least eat something."

Shaking his head, America replied, "Nah, I'm good."

England was losing his patience, grabbing a burnt scone he demanded, "At least eat this."

Giving the scone a look of disgust, America protested, "I'm not eating that!"

Unfortunately, England only shoved the scone closer to America, "Eat it."

Well, all food is disgusting anyways, so this scone is no different. America thought as he sighed in defeat and grabbed the scone. Before taking his first bite, America retrieved his water bottle (one that could hold about thirty-two ounces) and drank about half the water inside it before reluctantly taking his first bite. Every now and then between his slow, meager nibbles, America would continue to take sips of his water, until he had finished half of the scone. He set the scone down, and drank the rest of the water in his water bottle. Then he stood up in order to leave for the bathroom, however, he was interrupted as England asked, "Where are you going?"

America replied quickly, "I just need to use the bathroom."

Just as America began to dash off, England called after him, "Aren't you going to eat the rest of that scone?"

Before exiting the room, America called back, "No thanks."

As soon as America entered the bathroom, he made sure that the door was locked behind him before walking over to the toilet. America knelled down in front of the toilet, his stomach was uncomfortably full from all of the water he had drank, but that was not the reason for all the tension he was currently feeling. It was mostly because he was still nervous about making himself throw up. After all, it was a new thing he had been trying out only a week ago, and was not used to doing such a thing. Slowly, America put his finger down his throat until he started to gag. Nothing came out on the first attempt, so he tried again.

He continued to retch more and more, until finally, he had successfully managed to vomit. The process continued, until nothing would come out of the nation's now empty stomach. Fortunately for him, none of the vomit had splattered anywhere, except for in the toilet, and on his hand of course. Therefore, he wouldn't have to worry about cleaning up a huge mess. Using the hand that had no vomit on it, he flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet to the sink in order to wash his hands.

Meanwhile, without the American's knowledge, England was outside the bathroom door. He had decided to try and figure out if America was sick this way, and was certainly concerned to hear him retch and vomit. The island nation had no idea what was going on with his former colony, but his instinct told him that there was definitely something harming the young nation. Maybe England would never admit the motherly bond he had for America, but none the less, his parenting instincts were beginning to kick in.