Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

For Amber Waves of Grain

Chapter 1

I had loved Alfred F. Jones before I was even old enough to know what love was. My young eyes drank in his perfect smile and boisterous voice until my naive mind was convinced that the world began and ended with him. I'm not sure I would call it an obsession, I never ran away from home, tracking his every movement nor did I weep hysterically every time he appeared on our television. Nothing quite that dramatic. But my childhood bedroom did evolve over the tragic years of my early life into an odd mixture of Mr. America himself and pageant paraphernalia.

After my mother passed, my number of sashes and tiaras' grew significantly, whereas my number of friends decreased. I spent most of my late teens lost in my own world of gowns and hairspray, makeup and monologues, Stars and Stripes. I don't know if it was how my brain decided to deal with the loss, but after that awful year, my small dream of maybe one day becoming Miss South Carolina was replaced my unbridled need to be Miss America. I was feeling unstable after having two important people ripped from my grasp. I never got a say in any of it. I wanted to take something for myself, and the only thing I ever wanted was to be worthy of his notice. I realize that sounds fucked, but back then, it was all I had to hold onto as the rest of my little world seemed to be falling of its axis.

Putting myself in the forefront of the mind of the people of my great state wasn't easy. My father kept good on his promise, but after a few years even I could see his impatience whenever I handed him my stack of note cards, ready for rapid fire questions about politics, morality, and the future of our nations youth.
Just as my poor bereaved father came to the end of his frayed rope, North Carolina invaded our modest home in the form of a boisterous damsel in distress named Charlotte. Another beautifully damaged girl, her father was the town drunk and her mother had abandoned them when she was a baby. She was a runaway, but she was really bad at it. To this day, I have no idea how she managed to make it all the way to Glasden, but that's where we found her, dehydrated and passed out on the corner of our street. We took her in, deciding to fix her up and hopefully find this poor child a place to go, but it never happened. As soon as she got her strength back she attached herself to our hearts. Before I knew it, she had moved into my brothers old room and my dad was jokingly blaming me for bringing in another stray, citing all the feral cats that called our garage their home. I saw right through him though, he habitually called her Charlotte from Charlotte and lovingly ruffled her hair.

I'd become smitten as well. Her charmingly loud personality worked with my quiet demeanor, and I soon noticed her interest in all things pageant. She learned how to do hair and makeup in record time and was always ready with a needle and thread to help with any kind of wardrobe disaster. She constantly told me that pageants were her dream as well, and even though she was a bit short and baby fat still clung to her cheeks, I believed her. She'd be better then me one day for the simple reason that, for her, it was all she ever wanted her life to be. She grew up ignored and unwanted while she yearned to be praised and adored. So as she assisted me, and I in return, trained her for the future. For me, this world was just a means to an end, and since she adored me like an older sister, she worked her ass off. A month after my 19th birthday, I had a sash across my chest that read "Miss South Carolina", and we were off to Atlantic City.

The majority of the pageant was a blur of evening gowns, swimsuits, and numb smiles plastered on perfect faces. I recall Miss Iowa sobbing in the bathroom after the talent portion (anything involving fire is just asking for trouble) and Miss Texas slinging twanged insults under her breath at Miss Oklahoma (you'd think that neighbors would get along better). I'd made it to the finals, it was between Miss Washington, Miss Hawaii, and myself.
I was busy being jealous of the later's natural tan when Charlotte ungraciously jammed a needle into my hip.
"Ah! Careful where your sticking that thing!" The 16 year old rolled her green eyes, not stopping her work on my gown.
"Calm your tits, I'm almost done." I placed my hand on my stomach and looked at myself in the vanity mirror. The bright lavender satin hurt my eyes and the bodice cinched my waist uncomfortably. It was perfect. Charlotte noticed my grimace and flashed her own pageant smile at me through the mirror. "That's no face for Miss America to be making!"
"I haven't won yet." But I instantly changed my face to a more attractive expression anyway, out of pure habit.
"It's in the bag, and you know it." She responded without lowering her voice at all. Just one of the many reasons why I loved my little adopted sister, she always said what she was thinking. Loudly.
The commercial break was almost over and then it was back on stage in time for the results, but that wasn't the reason for the butterfly's in my stomach. I had thought my calm and sure demeanor was still intact until Charlotte grabbed my shoulders from behind, as if to steady me.
"Can you cool it with the constant room scanning? I've got less then 2 minutes to finish stitching you into this couture monstrosity you just had to have." I raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow and feigned ignorance.
"The dress is exquisite. You did a wonderful job." She gave me a bored look and I sighed. "I wasn't scanning anything." I offered in a weak voice. An evil grin spread across her face.
"So, if he actually does decide to grace us with his presence, should I be on stand by with contraceptives?" A blush spread to my cheeks as I stammered with disgust. "Dont act all innocent, you know your first order of business as Miss America is to make a sex tape with Mr. America." My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
"Charlotte!"
"Virginia!" She mocked before laughing and finishing her stitches. "Alright, you're ready for action, beautiful." She tapped my hips before moving around to sit in the vanity in front of me. I smoothed the fabric and began checking myself out from different angles, looking for imperfections, as she eyed me curiously.
"Hey, Virgina?"
"Yes?" I answered without sparing her a glance.
"We'll, we've watched all the previous Miss America pageants, right?" I nodded. "Like, all of them. We didn't skip any of the old ones?" My hands faltered for a split second before continuing their tasks.
"Nope. Not a single one." I smiled, pretending I didn't know where she was alluding to.
"...I never saw him at any of them." I paused before turning full attention to her.
"Nope. Not a single one." I repeated.
"Well then why-"
"It's a work in progress." She sighed pitifully.
"That's what you always say."
"That's because it's always true." I was about to sit but decided against it when I felt the dress tighten ominously. I instead busied myself fixing my hair. "Today is just one day, Char. One day out of an entire year trekking across his country. I'll make it happen." I saw the stage director moving about in my peripheral vision. "All I have to do is get the crown. It's nothing but blue skies after this." I turned and started to walk away, Charlotte was right on my heels.
"You know, now that I think about it," I spared a glance at her as I continued toward the stage, expecting another pitiful look, but she instead had that demon smile again. "I've never heard any contestant work the name 'Alfred Jones' into every answer of their interview questions. He may already have his dreamy blue eyes on you, Gin." I tripped over my heels and had to steady myself on the wall. Had I really done that? I don't even remember the questions they'd asked.
"I-I used my rehearsed answers!"
"You embellished." She winked at me before smacking my behind. "See you on the other side!" And she ran off, leaving me blinking after her in embarrassment. The stage director got to me before I could recover.
"Time to shine." He looked me over creepily and offered me his arm. I politely declined the gesture as Miss Hawaii sauntered toward us in a festively orange dress. Ignoring the leer from the man, she smiled sweetly and grabbed my hands.
"You look so beautiful!"
"Not as beautiful as you." I responded semi-honestly, she had longer legs and obviously a body built for a bikini, but her personality lacked, and my face was my golden ticket, I was untouchable in that department.
Miss Washington strolled passed, offering a weak smile. There hadn't been a winner from South Carolina since '94, but Washington had never won. Not once. If it weren't for what I felt I had at stake, I would have felt bad. They're both nice girls, if they weren't in my way at the moment, we may have been friends. Maybe.

We quickly set off after her, careful not to fall off our heels as we made out way up the stairs that led to the stage. The crowd cheered as we walked into the blinding lights, the 50 girls that hadn't made it blew us kisses and shouted "Good Luck". I cringed a bit on the inside but brought my hands to my chest in a heartfelt gesture. I scanned the front row and quickly found my dad, he looked tired but beaming with pride. Charlotte had found her way to sit next to him and was practically jumping out of her seat. I winked at them both and let my face relax into a real, genuine smile. Just for them. There's was only 3 things I cared about in the world at that time, and they were the first two. The third was the reason I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. The countdown from a camera man and the MC starting his spiel, however, had little to no effect on me.

There we all stood, in a nice, neat line, all holding hands. The announcer said some lovely things about our long journeys to get to this point, before turning to us and asking how we were feeling, being so close to the end. Hawaii jumped at the chance to speak and I willingly remained silent, nodding in agreement with whatever the hell she said. I figured that if I spoke I'd just name drop again and embarrass myself further. I glanced over my shoulder at the soon to be former Miss America. She seemed like the bubbly, cheerleader type. Blonde haired blue eyed beauty. I was wondering if she'd ever met Alfred during her "reign" when the MC interrupted my thoughts.
"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for." The crowd died down.
"Your new Miss America is-"

Silence

"Virginia White, Miss South Carolina!" The crowd roared, my crown was placed on my head, and the wave of relief that went through my body nearly brought me to my knees. I've never been one for hysterics, but as I was handed a bouquet of roses and looked into the crowd to see both Charlotte and my father crying and waving little American flags, I nearly lost my mind.
Looking back on what was quite literally my crowning moment, I should have enjoyed it for what it was; my own accomplishment. However, when all those beautiful, accomplished women rushed the stage to congratulate me, I couldn't have been less moved. The only thought running through my selfish young mind was "I've got the crown of your nation, now come and find me."

Thank you so much for stopping by and reading. Feel free to review, I'm always more then open to feedback. Chapter 2 should be up in a week (gonna try my hardest to keep on a weekly schedule). Until then, come hang out on Tumblr with me! I'm revising an old fic which I'll be posting over there. Its all very exciting! (sort of...)