*Sneaks in room* *Pots, pans, and other supplies fly* *Dives behind trashcan*

Hello again, everyone! It is I, Isthereanyothernames, or Izzy, I guess (I have no clue how to shorten that username for a nickname to go by. If you have any ideas, please share!) Anyway, I'm not dead yet!

I FINALLY beat that writer's block! It was sooooo long and awful and I am SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SOSOSOSOSOSOSOOOOOOOO SORRY! Ugh, I'm a terrible human being... Anyway, I got this chapter up now!

Also, before I wish you off into this, I just want to say thank you to all who read this. I'm honestly not really confident in my writing or what I make/post. It's why I have terrible writer's block or don't update as often. I'm really just... not confident in what I do.

That's why all your reviews, favs, or follows mean the world to me. They're what inspire me! If ideas are sent to me, I get inspired to write them and if any of you put ideas for this story in reviews, I will do my best to make them happen! You readers keep my stories going, and I am so thankful for each and every one of you! I hope I can continue to please you all through this story! Okay, okay, enough stalling. Hope you all like this chapter!

As all you may know, I do not own Hetalia or any of these characters~

The next week and a half for Lovino came and went surprisingly fast. Much work had been done during the days before in preparation; decorations, food, and chairs at the park, which had been reserved, were all set up. Just as they had said, Lovino's friends all pitched in for the funeral. Elizabeta baked the delicious goods that were set out on the table, Francis managed almost all the of the decorations, and Roderich had even had one of his (yes, apparently, he had more than one) pianos brought out where he would play the music he composed himself for the event.

Everything seemed to be running smoothly for the funeral, that is, aside from Lovino's speech. Being the stubborn Italian he was, Lovino refused Arthur's, or anyone's, help and insisted he could write his speech on his own. This statement lasted until the coffee-haired boy showed up on Arthur's doorstep two days before the funeral in a frustrated distress. The brit, although hating to be requested last minute, assisted Lovino in his writing, giving him tips and ideas of what to say. With the help of the Englishman, Lovino had his speech done in less than two hours (it would've taken him more than five if he had done it on his own).

Although the funeral was Lovino's main focus, school still (unfortunately) existed. With working all day on the weekend and after school, Lovino was exhausted throughout the week and barely stayed awake during his classes. He actually fell asleep in one period after lunch and barely escaped punishment thanks to Antonio explaining the situation to the teacher. Lovino's friends were really doing a lot for him during this time. They came to help set up the funeral after school, kept Lovino on top of his homework, and overall kept watch over him to make sure he was doing alright for the most part. Alfred would always have something positive to say to reassure Lovino, Francis and Gilbert made sure he was eating right and getting a somewhat good amount of sleep, and Antonio would check up on how he was mentally and emotionally doing.

For all the help his friends were giving him, Lovino tried his hardest to be open and honest. As Lovino himself had said, he wasn't perfect at it. There were days where storms of dark, sad, and angry emotions stirred within him, and Lovino insisted he was fine. Luckily, Antonio and the others had a keen eye out for when he was lying and saw right through his façade. As this happened, Lovino became more open, and the days seemed to get…easier.

Finally, the day of the funeral arrived. Lovino, who was dressed nicely in a black suit, stood with his grandfather at the entrance, greeting the guests as they came in. He didn't know everyone who came; family came, of course, but there were some other people that Lovino didn't recognize. His grandfather seemed to know them, so Lovino simply assumed they were his friends.

"Hey, hey!" A voice shouted out. Lovino glanced around and found Gilbert heading towards him with Ludwig not far behind. The albino smirked and crossed his arms. "You don't look so bad in a suit, eh?"

"Shut up!" Lovino snapped. "It's not like I wanted to dress all formal and shit."

"Language, Lovino." Scolded Lovino's grandfather as he looked over from greeting another pair of guests.

Lovino rolled his eyes and handed Gilbert two small pamphlets.

"What're these?" The German questioned.

"They're little booklet-things about Feli. It's just a bunch of basic information about him. You guys probably know everything written in it, but the guests are supposed to have them."

"I see," Ludwig nodded as he took one from Gilbert. "Thank you."

"Tch, whatever." Lovino grumbled. "Just go find your seats and whatever.''

"Lovino~!"

Before the Lovino could even find Antonio (he automatically knew that voice) Gilbert and Ludwig were thrown aside as the Spaniard burst between them and threw his arms around Lovino.

"Gack! Wha-What are you doing, you bastard?! Get off me!"

Antonio pulled back and placed his hands on Lovino's shoulders. Looking the Italian over, he beamed. "Oh, Lovi, you look amazing! That suit looks so good on you! And your hair is so neatly combed- ah, except for that one curl, but that always sticks out, doesn't it? It's so cute, Lovi!"

"Would you calm the hell down?!" Lovino swore, pushing Antonio away from him. "I'm not supposed to look cute; this is a funeral, not wedding! Besides, I'm not 'cute'."

"Psh, Lovino you're adorable!"

"NO I'M NOT!"

"Well, well, what is going on here? Antonio trying to compliment his crush?"

Lovino turned red from his neck to his ears and glared at the four who now approached. "No, Francis. I'm not his 'crush' or whatever the hell you call it. And keep your delusional, homo-daydreams to yourself!"

The Frenchman snickered and waved a dismissive hand in the hair. "Whatever you say, mon ami."

"Wait, Toni's got a crush on Lovino?" Alfred asked curiously.

"No, he doesn't." Lovino answered for Antonio through gritted teeth.

"Well…"

"Shut the fuck up, Arthur, I said he doesn't!"

"You know, one can be blind to another's feelings if they, themselves, are in love," Francis mused.

"Can it, baguette bastard," Lovino growled. He shoved a handful of pamphlets into Francis' hands. "Just go find your seats and leave me alone. I've got more guests to greet."

"Oui, oui~," Francis sang, linking his arm with Antonio's and dragged him along. "Don't worry, we'll keep your Romeo occupied until you join us."

"Shut up!" Lovino glared after Francis. He then noticed an extra person who was walking along with Arthur and Alfred. He almost missed him, the boy seemed to blend in with the group. "Wait," he called, pointing to the boy. "Who are you?"

The extra boy seemed to know that Lovino was addressing him and turned around. He gave a pleasant smile. "I'm Matthew."

"Uh… do I know you?"

Matthew's eyes widened in surprise as if he expected had Lovino to recognize him. "O-Oh, I, uh… Alfred didn't-,"

"Wha? Someone say my name- OH!" Alfred slung an arm around the boy and grinned sheepishly. "Hah, sorry about that, Mattie; I totally forgot to introduce you!" He gestured a hand to the boy- Matthew - and looked over at Lovino. "This here is my bro, Matthew. He's younger than me, but in our grade 'cause he's one of them super smart kids. Right Matt?"

Matthew blushed slightly, averting his gaze. "W-Well, uh, I mean…"

"Right!" Alfred laughed. "Anyway, yeah, he's a Brainiac. He's also really quiet and a bookworm, so people don't notice him a lot. He may not mind it much, but I'm not a big fan of my bro being all alone all the time, so I invited him to come here! That way he can make some friends!"

"Uh, Alfred," Lovino raised an eyebrow. "I hate to break to you, but this is a funeral. I don't think it's a place to make friends, if you know what I mean."

"Nah," The blue-eyed boy shrugged. "Any place is a place to make friends! Anyway, we'll meet ya by the chairs. C'mon Mattie!"

"O-Okay," Matthew said quietly. He gave a last look at Lovino, showing a sheepish smile. "It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, sure." Lovino scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He then turned back around and continued to greet the guests.

Thankfully soon, all the guests had arrived and were now seated. Some had tears in their eyes while others had them dry. Though not long after the service started did everyone have tears snaking their way down their faces. A board full of pictures of Feliciano stood propped up in front of the podium, and there was a table with papers holding memories written out on them for people to read. It was a simple set up for the event, but that didn't stop it from looking nice. Francis had indeed done a wonder for decorating. The funeral was Italian themed for Lovino's heritage with ribbons of red, green, and white were strung about the seats, tables, and podium.

Lovino's grandfather opened the service with a speech of his own about Feliciano that lasted quite a while. He had to pause a couple times when speaking in order to regather himself. By the end of his speech, some of the guests were crying along with him. Next, a pastor came and talked. Lovino partially zoned out at this time, not because he was against religious talk, but because he had heard it all before many times from church and whatnot. After the pastor finished, it was Lovino's turn.

Although Lovino had practiced his speech multiple times before the funeral, nerves still spurred within him. He bit his lip as his grandfather announced him, wishing he didn't have to do this. He almost wanted to do something crazy like bolt from his seat and run off. Then a small tap on his shoulder brushed those thoughts aside as he turned around and saw Antonio who gave him a reassuring wink.

"You'll do fine." He whispered.

Lovino gave a nervous smile and nodded back. He then made his way to the podium, taking a deep breath as he faced his audience. His nerves grew more intense as he looked over the guests. His throat grew dry. His knees quivered. His arms trembled even as he gripped the sides of the podium tightly.

He froze.

What if he messed up? What if his speech wasn't good after all? What if people laughed? What if everything went wrong? He couldn't handle that. He didn't want to handle that. No…He couldn't do this. He would have to apologize and go sit down and just deal with the embarrassment for the rest of his life and-

"C'mon, Lovi! You got this! Don't be nervous!"

Lovino's head perked up at the voice and his eyes searched for the source of it. They immediately landed on Antonio, who was now giving him two thumbs-ups. He nodded at the Italian encouragingly, mouthing "go on" at him. Gilbert, Francis, Arthur, and the others all joined in giving reassuring gestures and looks to Lovino.

It helped. A lot. Lovino felt himself stand up straighter, his legs and arms not shaking anymore. He took a deep breath, feeling the fluttering in his stomach calm, and then he began.

"S-So, um, I am Lovino Vargas," The Italian boy started. "older brother of Feliciano. There's a lot of things I can say about my brother, but I might as well begin with describing who he was. First of all, Feliciano loved painting. He loved it almost as much as he loved pasta, and that's saying something. He was really good at it two; his room was always full of these masterpieces. They literally littered his room, stacked against each other, shoved in his closet, or hanging on his walls. I shit you not, I swear he was Leonardo da Vinci two-point-o. Like…his paintings could take you places. When you looked at them, you were transported to a different world. I used to sneak into his room and admire his art for what felt like hours, going into different little worlds with each painting." Lovino smiled slightly to himself, reminiscing in those memories. He shook his head and continued once again. "Feliciano was also surprisingly athletic. He played football- or soccer, as Alfred likes to call it -and was one of the best guys on his team. He may not have been the strongest guy, but the little shit was quick. His speed sure helped him run away from chores. Feliciano was also a pretty smart kid. He was good in school, had all A's, and was the biggest social butterfly you would ever meet. He was cheery, bright, and just…just a great guy. In fact, we always gave him the nickname of Lovely Little Feliciano. Yup. It was Lovely Little Feli, and Cranky Old Lovi." This earned a few chuckles from the audience. Lovino smiled along with them, but it dropped as he moved on. "But there was another thing about Feliciano…" he paused. This is where it was going to get difficult, but there was no backing out now.

"You see…another thing Feliciano was good at was acting. I mean, he was in all the school plays; even got the lead a couple times. He could play any character or part given to him. The problem was that…Feli didn't stop acting outside of class or school. He didn't even stop at home. See, my brother was given a part in live. It was the part of Feliciano Vargas. He played the character quite well, too. Feliciano Vargas was a happy-go-lucky guy, had the best friends, and was the nicest guy you could ever meet. That was Feliciano Vargas. Now, just Feliciano alone was different. Just Feliciano was scared. Just Feliciano was alone. Just Feliciano was tired, and sad, and lost. But because all he was to everyone was Feliciano Vargas, nobody knew Feliciano. He couldn't talk to anybody. So…So he did what all actors do. He put on the mask and costume, covered his scars with makeup, and rehearsed his lines so everyone would think he was okay. It was a painful routine he did every single day. He wanted somebody to notice it wasn't him to stood on the stage of life. He wanted someone to pull the mask away. He wanted someone to see him as Just Feliciano. So he waited and waited, doing the same thing every day, and hoped that one day somebody would look past the character and see him in all his brokenness. Unfortunately, no one did. And Feli… He grew tired of waiting."

Lovino stopped, wiping away the few tears that had escaped his eyes, which stared down at the wooden podium in front of him. He then picked up his head, his gaze scanning the audience. "It hurts. It hurts me to know that I never saw through this character. I'm his own brother for fuck's sake, yet I never saw him for who he was. I was blinded by the show, the lights, the costumes. And now? Now it's too late. The tickets are sold out, the seats are now empty. The show is done, and Feliciano is gone. I ask this of all you here today: Open your eyes. Look for the actor in people, not the character. Look for who someone really is because they might be trying to show you. They might be desperately trying to reach out through the character and call for help. They might be standing on the line of giving up because nobody sees them! So please, I beg of you all… Open your eyes…Because you never know who's acting."

With a small bow of the head, Lovino took his papers and stepped off.

"Whoa! Man, that speech was epic, Lovino!"

"Indeed. It sure got my eyes teary."

"How'd you think of all that?"

"Guys, settle down. I'm sure Lovi isn't in the mood to be pestered with questions."

Lovino was secretly thankful Antonio had stepped in. The funeral was now over and almost all the guests had left. It had gone by faster than Lovino had expected after his speech; he must've zoned out again because he didn't quite remember what all happened. Now he was here cleaning up with Antonio and the others helping alongside him.

"So…guys," Lovino said after a few moments of silence. "I, uh, just wanted to thank you all for coming and whatever. It was appreciated."

"It was no problem, Lovi~," Antonio grinned and patted the brunette's back. "We wanted to be here for you. Plus, it was cool hearing some stories about Feli that we had never known."

"Yeah, like that one with him getting stuck in a box for three hours? That's hilarious, dude!" Alfred chirped in.

"Oui," Agreed Francis. "It was also good to understand the part of Feli that we didn't know. It was hard to hear, yes, but it's better we aren't oblivious to what your brother really felt."

Lovino nodded, his gaze moving to the ground. "Yeah."

A silence hung in the air over the group for a minute or so before Antonio broke it. "Anyway, Lovi, it's getting late and-,"

"If you need to get home and shit, just say so," Mumbled the Italian. "I can handle the rest on my own. It's not like I really need you bastards to help me."

"Actually," Antonio said. "I was going to say that you should go home. You've done a lot today, and I bet that big speech was pretty draining, no? Why don't you take a break and turn in, and we can take care of cleaning up the rest of this."

"Wha- No! I can't just leave you guys to finish this! That would make me a bastard!"

"Aw, no it wouldn't, Lovi~! You're so sweet for caring, though, but honestly, we can handle this little mess. You go home and rest up."

"I'm not sweet, bastard. And I don't care. I just don't want to be responsible for letting idiots like you take care of all this. I bet you don't even know what to do with all this crap!"

Antonio tapped his chin. "Mm…I suppose we don't. But we'll figure it out!"

"Antonio, I really don't-"

The Spaniard turned Lovino to face him, putting two hands on the boy's shoulders and looking himstraight in his golden eyes. "Lovino. It'll be fine. You've already done so much today from setting up the chairs and tables to giving your big speech. Let us help, okay? We'll manage."

Lovino gave a sigh of defeat. "Fine. Only because I'm damn tired, though. Got it?"

Antonio laughed. "Alright, alright. We'll see you Monday then?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Lovino mumbled, already heading off towards his grandfather.

Ahhhhh so that was that! I really hope you guys liked it. I was a bit nervous because as I look over it now, it's not that long... and the ending...eh... I didn't have a real good plan. I just didn't know if I should stop it at the end of the speech or not. Sorry...

But anyway, I'm happy to say that Lovino's speech actually went alright! So that's good...I guess? Hah...now I'm just stalling

Anyway, I'll shut up now. As always, your reviews are what keep me going! Also, PLEASE NOTE: AFTER THIS CHAPTER I AM KINDA OUT OF IDEAS SO IF YOU GUYS HAVE ANY SCENE IDEAS PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE TELL ME! Seriously...I don't mean to sound needy or anything (I really don't, I'm so sorry if I sound like that.../-\") I'm just super desperate on ideas because I'm honestly not sure what I'm going to do for later chapters. I would really love to continue this story for you all. It's a lot of fun to write! But I simply can't continue a story I don't have ideas for... So if any of you think of some, please please please tell me!

Okay... I'm done. I'm sorry... heh. Well, I'll try to keep thinking of stuff, and hopefully will update sooner than I have been. Thank you all so much for sticking with this crappy author of Isthereanyothernames! Until then~

Ciao for now~! :D

-Ithereanyothernames (Aka, "Izzy" for now until I find a better nickname :P)