Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia. Never have, never will. =.=

PART TWO – THE PREPARATION: ?

The six of seven nations sat in America's garage, waiting for the loud country to come back out. France and England had split a couch with Canada (and then promptly forgotten his presence), while Germany and Italy shared another one. Japan sat on separate plastic chair he had randomly found lying around.

America's garage was very patriotic. The walls were blue, and the little furniture – such as couches and an old table – were all in white. Pretty much everything else was red, except for the odd white or blue. America's garage was also very messy. Germany and Japan could barely restrain themselves from straightening, dusting, and mending every single object in the garage.

"Mein Gott," Germany said grumpily. "I cannot believe I am actually doing zis." He poked the keyboard to his right, wincing at the loud tone.

England, on the other hand, seemed perfectly happy. "You know, we had The Beatles, one of greatest rock bands of all time," he boasted.

France flipped his immaculate hair. "But can you actually play?"

"Of course!" England snapped. And with that, he played a few complicated chords. "Ha! Take that, Frog!"

France just made an I-really-don't-care face. "C'est bon, but my singing is far superior! My country has Celine Dion!"

"She's part Canadian," Canada put in weakly. "And besides, now we have Justin Bieber!"

"Who are you?" Germany asked him suspiciously.

The blond sighed. "I'm Canada."

"Huh…" Germany looked at Canada, confusion evident. "I thought Justin Beaver was American…"

"Justin Bieber," Canada corrected. "And no, he's Canadian."

"Vell, vhy are you so proud to have Justin Beaver? He's terrible at singing!" Germany stopped. "No offense to your nation."

He merely shrugged it off. "At least people know who he is," Canada told Germany. "Even if it's not for great reasons, it's still a decent excuse to be proud of a nearly-internationally famous pop star."

"True," Germany conceded. He looked around. "Vhere's America?"

"RIGHT HERE!" America shouted as he entered the band's "practice room", otherwise known as his garage. "And since I'm the hero, I get to be the lead singer!"

"Quoi?!" France leapt up from where he was sitting on an old couch. "I wanted to sing!"

"You can be my back-up singer! Every good hero needs a sidekick, after all!"

"But…" France realized it would be fruitless to argue. "Fine," he muttered, causing England to cackle.

America continued, oblivious. "Since I'm singing, England obviously has to play guitar since he can't do anything else–"

"I PLAY GUITAR QUITE WELL, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!"

"–France is my backup singer, I guess Germany is playing the bass 'cuz he seems like that type of guy–"

"Fine," Germany grunted. "I really do not vant to do this, though."

"–Japan's playing the drums, and Italy can… Italy, what can you do?" America asked (somewhat rudely, earning a glare from Germany).

"I can play the tambourine!" Italy announced happily, holding up his plastic instrument painted in the colors of the Italian flag. He shook it, displaying his musical prowess. "Ve~!"

America blinked, then grinned. "Alright!" Pause. "Wait a second, aren't there seven of us?"

"Did you count me?" Canada implored, hoping against hope that someone would actually hear him.

His brother merely squinted and counted off the others on his fingers. "Germany, Italy, Japan, England, France, Canada – wait, dude, when did you show up?"

"I've been here the entire time!" Canada shouted in his quiet voice. (Which sounds odd, but you know what I mean.) "You always just conveniently forget about me!"

America suddenly had a chainsaw in his hand, roaring and whirring. "WHAT'S THAT?" he yelled. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

The other North American nation felt faint. "You know what, it's fine…"

The chainsaw disappeared. "Anyways, what song are we gonna play?" America thought for a moment. "What if we sang Let It Go?"

England rolled his eyes. "First off, Frozen takes place in Norway, who happens to be on the opposite team."

"Oh, yeah."

"And second off, the song's annoying. And American."

"Oh, yeah – wait, what?!"

"We could always sing a romantic song," France suggested with a wink.

"Nein," Germany replied shortly.

"Pourquoi? It was but a simple suggestion!" the blond protested.

"What if we sang Wa! Wa! World Ondo?"

Everyone turned to look at Japan.

America scratched his head. "That's not a bad idea – I mean, we all know the song already. Makes things easier, yeah?"

"Great. Now I have to sing in Japanese again," Germany grumbled. "No offense, Japan," he added hastily. Vow, he thought. I seem to be accidentally offending nations a lot today…

"None taken, Mr. Germany."

"Um, America?" Canada squeaked out. "America? America? America? America!"

France poked the oblivious country. "America, I believe your brother would like to talk to you."

"Huh? Oh, Canadia!" America grinned at his twin. "What's up, dude?"

"Um, I don't have a part in the Wa! Wa! World Ondo song…"

America beamed. "That's okay!"

France frowned. "No, it's not. He's your frère."

Canada nodded weakly. "Yeah. What France said."

America sighed a loud, annoyed sigh. "Fine! Dudes, we can't do that World Ondo song. One, 'cuz Russia's not here, and two, because Canadia doesn't have a part."

"My name's Canada!"

The North American nation ignored his brother. "Any other suggestions?"

"What if we sang that song I wrote about Germany?" suggested Italy, smile growing even bigger.

"NEIN!" Germany objected hastily. "Um, sorry, Italy, it's just that I, uh, vant to keep it something personal between us…?"

"Oh, ok!"

England sighed. "So, what are we going to perform? We should probably figure it out soon…" His eyes lit up. "Of course, if we can't decide, we can always perform a Beatles song…"

"Non! Non, non, non!" France shouted. "Never shall I willingly perform a British song!"

"Oh, and you have a better suggestion?!" England scoffed.

France went quiet.

"That's what I thought," England sniffed.

Japan raised his hand. "I am arright with performing a Beatres song."

Germany nodded his consent. "I as vell."

"Ve~!" exclaimed Italy, most likely in agreement.

(Canada also agreed, but no one really noticed.)

"Eh, I can do a Beatles song if everyone else wants to," America conceded. "Sorry, France, you're outnumbered! Here in America, we have democracy, so our six votes beat your one! HA!"

France was not happy, but he went with everyone else. "Oui, oui, fine."

Suddenly, America face-palmed. "I totally forgot! We need a name!"

"The Pasta Lovers!" Italy suggested immediately.

"What about America and Those Other Dudes?"

"Tuna…"

"The British Empire and Co."

"France is Excellente!"

"The Maple Leaves?"

"Ve need something ve can all agree on," Germany interrupted. "Something…cool. Modern."

"The Magical Unicorns?"

"England, dude, not cool."

"Shut up, America."

Italy's hand shot up into the air. "We could be the Pasta, Scones, Hamburgers, Syrup, Croissants, Beer, and Sake!"

"I think that is too rong," Japan told him gently.

"Oh, ok!"

Japan thought for a moment. "Why don't we call ourselves the International Cat Lovers?"

"What? Dude, why?" America looked dumbfounded.

"We arr own cats," Japan explained. "And we arr represent different nations. Besides, no one is going to care too much about our name." He blinked. "I think Greece wourd rike it very much, though."

Germany looked at the rest of his band/team/whoevers. "Anyone object? No? Alright, ve are ze International Cat Lovers."

Lovely band name, isn't it? :D

Also, I'm pretty happy with this story. I've already finished it, so I'll be updating quite frequently. YAY! ;D

Thank you to my one and only reviewer for the first chapter, GreyParadise. :)

- ImaginaryParchment