-Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord.-
Human; The Killers

-Hetalia-

It was the morning of the competition, and Matthew felt sick. The contest was being held during a festival at the fairgrounds. The bands would begin to play just after noon, but already the grounds were crawling with people, making Matthew glad for once that he was practically invisible.

Gilbert put a hand on his shoulder, grinning with just a hint of smugness as he looked out over the crowds. Alfred was to Matthew's right while Arthur stood on the other side of Gil, looking around for where they would sign up.

"You ready to knock them dead, Birdie?" Gilbert asked. Matthew grimaced.

"Dude, we're gonna kill 'em!" Alfred said. Matthew knew for a fact the blond hadn't slept again. Alfred had woken him up at seven with all the excitement of a ten year old boy on Christmas morning, and he'd only gotten more enthusiastic as the day wore on. It was only a little after ten now, but Matthew was worried that if Alfred got any more excited he'd start trembling like a small dog.

"Assuming we actually get to go on," Arthur said. He turned away from his scanning and back to them. "I don't think it's anywhere over that way. Maybe it's over near the food stands."

"Woo, food!" Alfred threw his arms up and lead the way, bouncing with every step. Matthew didn't want to even think about eating. He knew that if he put so much as a single fry in his stomach it would come back to haunt him, quite literally. He remembered now exactly why he was reluctant to be the lead singer.

"You just ate like half an hour ago," Gilbert rolled his eyes, oblivious to Matthew's anxiety. It registered in the blond's mind that the 'Prussian' left his arm around his shoulders, almost possessively, but he wouldn't let himself analyze that at the moment. Keeping the remnants of last night's dinner in his stomach was his top priority. The smell of funnel cakes and cotton candy in the air weren't really helping.

"I feel sick," he mumbled. He was ignored, not that he really expected a response. Alfred was distracted by the game stalls and lead them that way. Gilbert steered Matthew after him when the blond didn't move.

"Dude, bet I can win this," Alfred said, running up to the nearest stall; a ring toss game. Alfred handed over a few dollars and Gilbert's arm slid away from Matthew's shoulders, bending as the albino crossed his arms at Alfred, clearly doubting him.

"I disagree," Arthur said. Alfred's grin only widened.

"I'll win you something, then," he said. "That way you'll have a permanent reminder of how you were totally wrong."

"Well are you going to talk about it all day or are you actually going to do something," Gilbert said. Alfred picked up the rings the stall runner had set on the counter for him, throwing one. It bounced off of three bottles before finally falling between two. Gilbert laughed loudly.

"Shut up, that one just slipped," Alfred said. "I'll get it this time."

He was wrong. The ring bounced off the rim of the mouth of the bottle and fell down like the other. Alfred frowned and threw another one, which met the same fate. Gilbert threw his head back with laughter, and Arthur was grinning. Matthew was too busy trying to suppress his urge to throw up in the nearest trashcan to really laugh, though he had to admit, a little guiltily, Alfred's failure was amusing.

Alfred's luck didn't improve with his fourth toss. Gilbert had managed to stop laughing long enough to watch the ring fall beside another bottle. The albino snorted and fell into another fit of laughter.

"I say, could you be a worse shot?" Arthur asked, laughing slightly himself. Alfred pouted, making Matthew smile just a little, despite the acrobatic turn his stomach had taken.

"Last ring," the stall runner announced. Alfred tensed, slipping into a state of complete focus apparently. Gilbert tried and failed to stop laughing at the blond's expense, while Arthur leaned against the counter to better watch the final ring. Taking a deep breath, Alfred tossed his last chance to redeem himself. It was the only one that actually landed the way he wanted it to.

"Ha!" Alfred shouted at them. "I got one." Gilbert snorted. Matthew sighed.

"Here you go," the stall runner said, barely hiding his smirk as he gave a handful of candy to Alfred. Though Alfred grinned at the prospect of edible rewards, it was obvious he was disappointed he hadn't won one of the better prizes hanging above their heads. Gilbert cackled at the pitiful prize.

"Jeez, don't die on us, Gil," Alfred said, looking a bit miffed. Gilbert leaned on the counter for support, nearly on his knees as he began crying from all the laughter. Arthur stole one of Alfred's candies.

"You did win me something." He smirked at his boyfriend. Matthew wasn't sure what had happened to smooth over their fighting earlier in the week, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Doing this gig while fighting squabbling would have been a nightmare.

"Oh Gott, that's the best you can…" Gilbert managed through his laughter. "Only one ring," he wheezed. His laughter was infectious, and Matthew couldn't help but chuckle slightly along with Arthur as Alfred pouted again.

"Oh yeah? Let's see you do better," the blond huffed. Gilbert slowly composed himself.

"I can do way better than you," he said, pulling out the money for the man running the stall. The man grinned and handed over the rings, looking just as interested in the competition as the four boys were.

"You gonna talk or you gonna do something?" Alfred asked. Gilbert smirked and tossed the first ring. It landed perfectly. Arthur exploded with laughter as Alfred blushed slightly and pouted again.

"Beginner's luck," he reasoned.

"Oh ja? Then what's this?" Gilbert tossed another ring. It landed just as flawlessly as the first. Arthur was slumped against the counter laughing.

"Alright, do it again then," Alfred said quickly, almost flailing as he gestured at Gilbert, who threw again. It landed around the neck of a bottle without even touching its mouth. Matthew began laughing softly. Arthur had his head buried in his arms.

"Feel embarrassed yet?" Gilbert asked. Alfred crossed his arms and looked away. The albino just smirked and threw his remaining rings, each one landing just as easily as the other three.

"We have a grand prize winner!" the stall runner called out, and Matthew was pretty sure he only did so to rub it in Alfred's face. "Pick any of the things hanging up here." He pointed to the biggest prizes. Gilbert grinned and chose a large white bear.

"Here you go," he said, smirking as he held the stuffed animal out to Alfred. "So you'll remember how much more awesome I am than you."

"No thanks," Alfred said. Gilbert shrugged.

"Fine, I'll just give it to Mattie then. That way it'll still be in your house." He deposited the large animal in Matthew's hands, and Matthew had no choice but to hug it to his chest so it wouldn't fall on ground and get covered in dirt. Alfred pouted as Arthur dragged himself up off the counter, still catching his breath.

"Now let's go find the sign-ups," he wheezed. Alfred gave a noncommittal grunt and let the Englishman lead them away from the ring toss stall.

-H-

He was going to throw up. There was nothing for it. He knew it would come sooner or later, and right now it felt like the former was the option his stomach had decided on.

They'd found the sign-up area and the stage right by the food area, as Arthur had suspected. By then it was around eleven thirty, and Alfred managed to convince them to get lunch. Matthew had of course been too focused on his urge to vomit to even bother buying something to eat. He wasn't sure if he regretted it or not now. On one hand, the way his stomach was squirming suggested there was no way he could hold down anything had he eaten. On the other hand, not eating anything all day was not the best idea, and he was starting to feel just a tad lightheaded. If he didn't throw up on stage he'd probably faint with his luck.

They were standing in the crowd that had gathered before the stage when the announcers informed everyone that the competition would begin shortly. Matthew's stomach was worse than ever as he felt the impending doom that was their coming performance. They were last in line, since they'd been the last to sign up, which was good because they could put it off, but bad because the crowd would probably be tired out by the end, and unless they made an amazing impression, Brother Complex would be easily overlooked when people voted for the best band.

"Are you alright, Matthew?" Arthur asked, pulling him away from his panic for a moment. "You're looking a little green. You didn't eat something bad, did you?"

"He didn't eat something period," Gilbert answered for him. Matthew hugged the big white bear closer to his chest as his stomach flipped again.

"Jeez, dude, how the hell do you even do that?" Alfred raised an eyebrow. "I'd totally die if I didn't eat."

"Well we all would die if we didn't eat," Arthur said.

"Not what I meant," Alfred snorted.

"Ladies and gentlemen." One of the announcers came out on stage, distracting the teens from Matthew's health issues. "Welcome to the Amateur Band Competition!" Several people clapped and cheered. "Alright, we're going to call up the first band in a moment, but before that we're going to explain how everything's going to go." Her co-worker took over.

"Okay, so while one band is performing, we'd like to have the next band back stage so we don't have to wait too long switching off. Each band will perform three songs for you, and at the very end you can come up and vote. We'll announce the winners thirty minutes afterwards." The crowd cheered again.

"Right! So our first band will be The Nordics!"

-H-

Matthew was panicking. The third to last band was finishing up their third song. The second to last band would be on next, meaning that Brother Complex would have to go backstage. Matthew had hoped that as the afternoon wore on, the crowd would thin, at least slightly, but the universe seemed to be against him. If anything, the crowd had grown, doubled possibly.

He wasn't sure if maybe it was just nerves, but it seemed like every lead singer that went on was ten times better than he could ever be. Gilbert and Alfred didn't seem to have noticed; as the crowd grew, so did their excitement. Arthur at least looked slightly nervous, but he had it under control. Matthew was literally trembling. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and he was so hot he was sweating a little. The fact that he'd spotted a few French people he knew in the crowd did not help in the slightest. His stomach jerked at the thought, and as the current band left the stage he realized he was about to throw up.

Arthur led them backstage, and Matthew dropped his bear, making a beeline for a small trashcan.

"Ah, shit," he heard Gilbert say as Matthew fell to his knees.

"Mattie!" Alfred called. All three boys ran to his side. One of them pulled his hair out of his face for him as he emptied his stomach into the bin.

Matthew slowly sat up once the deed was done, vaguely registering the sound of the other band performing for the crowd.

"Here," Arthur said, holding out a water bottle. Matthew took it gratefully and rinsed his mouth as Alfred put a hand on his back. Gilbert was still holding the blond's hair out of his face, but Matthew couldn't bring himself to care.

"You gonna be okay, dude?" Alfred asked. Matthew nodded weakly. Three pairs of eyes were glued to his face. He sighed.

"I'm okay."

"You're sure?" Arthur asked. Matthew nodded again, brushing aside a strand of hair Gilbert had missed. The albino let go of his hair and walked away, returning with the large bear.

"Don't faint on stage, ja?" he said. He was smirking but Matthew saw through it and nodded, silently promising Gilbert that yes, he really was okay. Gilbert grinned and handed over the bear. "Anyone else wanna ditch their lunch before we go on?"

"No way man," Alfred said, rising to his feet and offering Matthew a hand. The Canadian gladly took it as the others rose as well.

"This is it," Arthur said.

"Our first gig." Gilbert nodded. "We're way more awesome than these losers; we're gonna win by a long shot!"

Alfred nodded in agreement while Matthew shuffled his feet nervously.

"We'll at least do well," Arthur said. "Don't worry, Matthew."

"I'm not," Matthew said. He swallowed as a song came to an end, setting the bear down. He wasn't sure how many songs the other band had done. The four boys waited, holding their breaths and listening to hear if the announcers would come back on. When another song began, they let out a collective sigh, and sheepishly glanced at one another.

"Looks like we're all a bit high strung," Arthur said.

"Ja right," Gilbert snorted. "We're going to win." He was standing a little too stiffly to be completely relaxed, though. Matthew hid his smile. It was comforting in a way to know Gilbert was nervous as well.

It wasn't long before the next song ended, and they stiffened again, listening to see what would happen next. As the crowd's cheers died down, the announcers' returned.

"This is it," Arthur repeated.

"All or nothing," Alfred said.

"Good luck everyone," Matthew said.

"We're going to be awesome."

"Brother Complex!" the announcers called. The crowd cheered as the boys stepped on stage.

Matthew felt himself tremble as he approached the lead's microphone. His heart was racing, and his stomach felt like it had caved in on itself. He felt a cold wave rush through him despite the heat of the late July afternoon. He avoided looking out at the massive crowd, casting a glance over either shoulder at Gilbert and Arthur to see if they were ready. Then he turned to check on Alfred, who nodded and gave him the thumbs up. Matthew closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and returned the gesture.

"How are you dudes tonight?" Alfred called out to the crowd, who continued to cheer. The band had decided that Alfred should be the one to introduce them, since the band was his dream originally anyway. "I'm Alfred F. Jones, guitar's Gilbert Beilschmidt, bass's Arthur Kirkland, and our lead's Matthew Williams!" The crowd roared. "We're Brother Complex!"

Gilbert began the first notes of Bestialement as the crowd let out another chorus of cheers and Matthew gulped, closing his eyes again as Arthur and Alfred picked up on the intro. He thought back to the advice Gilbert had given him when they last went over the songs.

"Just pretend it's just you and me, then. You can sing it with just me here, so just ignore the rest of them if you have to. But I think you shouldn't have to do that, Birdie."

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen you when we play in the garage. That first time you were dancing even though you were torn up not even three hours ago by that dog."

"I don't see where you're going…"

"Ja you do. I'm just saying…don't fight that. If that's what it takes to loosen you up, go for it."

Matthew took in a shaky breath, focusing on the music as it neared the lyrics. Holding it in, he let it fill his entire body. He tensed every muscle, and tightened up like a spring.

Then he let it out.

"Ne fait pas un bruit, sauf si tu cries mon nom,"

-H-

Matthew stood between Gilbert and Alfred, hugging his bear and biting his lip as he looked up at the stage along with everyone else in the crowd. Whatever had possessed him while he was performing had gone the moment he stepped backstage to retrieve the bear, and he still felt dizzy from the rush the adrenaline left behind when it left his system. Now they stood below, watching anxiously for the competition results.

"Alright, if the following bands could come on stage, please!" the announcer called out. Her partner opened his envelope.

"In order of performance, we have Truth or Dare…" he hesitated for suspense as the crowd roared and the band named came on stage. "…Stutter…" Matthew held his breath, knowing there was only one other band to go. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gilbert's left hand flutter up to his iron cross. Alfred clasped his hands together as though praying, and Arthur crossed all his fingers. Matthew hugged his bear tighter. "…and….Brother Complex!"

Matthew felt his heart skip a beat as Alfred leaped a good six inches in the air and whooped. The blond practically ran to the stage, and the other three were right on his heels, Matthew not even bothering to set down the massive stuffed bear this time. They filed onto stage, grinning like idiots.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your top three amateur bands!" The crowd exploded with cheers.

"In third place," the male announcer began again, effectively silencing the crowd. His coworker slowly opened her envelope, unfolding the paper as if it would burst into flames if she moved too quickly. She took her time reading it even though it couldn't have been more than three words. Then she looked first at the bands, and then to the crowd with a massive grin before finally revealing the third place winner.

"Stutter!" The crowd cheered, though there were audible boos from fans who believed Stutter should have won first place. The group shuffled forward, grinning all the same and accepted their plaque and the hugs the announcers offered them. After a couple of minutes in the spotlight they returned to their place on stage, and the crowd calmed back down, allowing the announcers continued.

"In second place," the woman began. Her partner opened his envelope just as slowly as she had. Matthew held his breath. Alfred and Arthur clung to one another's hands, and Gilbert had his eyes closed.

"…and our second place winners are," the announcer said, building the suspense to the point of annoying the crowd. Matthew thought he might be turning blue from lack of air as he continued to hold the same breath. "…Brother Complex!"

Truth or Dare jumped up and down, hugging one another and cheering just as loudly as the crowd, which had gone ecstatic at the news. Matthew let out his breath, feeling both thrilled and disappointed at the same time. They'd come in second place, out of at least fifteen bands, but they hadn't won first. Gilbert seemed to be facing the same struggle as his hand fluttered to his cross again, and Matthew pretended not to notice the albino look up at the sky for half a second.

Alfred on the other hand seemed to be perfectly pleased with second place. As Gilbert led the way to the announcers, Alfred grabbed Arthur's arm and pulled him into a kiss. He grinned as he pulled away, turning to the crowd that was erupting in a frenzy of responses to the action. He didn't seem to notice the annoyed look on Arthur's face underneath the blush, and Matthew hoped that the Brit wasn't actually irritated, or he'd be hearing all about the fight later on. Gilbert put his arm around Matthew's shoulders as Alfred flounced forward to accept the medal they were presented with.

A/N: Thank you so very much for reading! And thank you once again Hornet394 for giving this a look before I put it up. And thank you NikitaRain for your inspiration for the next chapter. A big thank you to those of you who've been reviewing this mess of mine; without all of you wonderful people this story wouldn't be nearly as much as it is today. And finally, thank you again Petit-Arc-en-Ciel for helping me with the French.
Another long chapter. Maybe this length will become the norm from now on - it just depends on how much I have to write I guess. I really do like this chapter. It's fun and a little silly, but it's also got key elements to the overall plot line. I hope you enjoy it as well.

The ring toss is sort of an allegory for Prussia and America's armies at this time. America had militias throughout the colonies while Prussia had some of the greatest armies.
Therefore Gilbert is good at ring toss...

Translations for this chapter:
Gott: German; god
Ja: German; yes (see previous notes)
Bestialement: French; brutally
Ne fait pas un bruit, sauf si tu cries mon nom,: French; Don't make a sound unless you're screaming my name

I apologize for any faulty translations. Thank you very much for supporting this story.

~VV