Propping his head against the window so that his forehead rested against the cool glass, Cian cast his eyes to the scenery that rapidly passed him by while music blared through his ear buds. The nations that made up the UK had decided to embark on a weekend away in the Welsh countryside in a snug cottage to escape the bustling, lively nature of life in London and to also provide each of the brothers a well-deserved break from work. With the accommodation booked and the car packed, the brothers set off with Alistair assigning himself as the driver, Arthur in the front passenger seat and both Medwyn and Cian relegated to the back passenger seats. Medwyn had fallen asleep and was beginning to emit a low snore from the back of his throat, to which Cian removed one of his ear buds and created Snapchat of his elder brother with an excessive use of emojis. Arthur was indulging in a novel, too engrossed in its pages to pay much mind to the antics taking place in the back. Alistair, with emerald eyes focused on the motorway that panned out in front of him, caught a glimpse of a sign that indicated a service stop was just a short distance away.
"I don't know about you but I could use a coffee. Let's stop at this service stop." Alistair suggested, appropriately flicking his indicators on and shifting to the correct lane.
"That's a good idea, it'd be wise to grab a bite to eat too while we're there." Arthur planted his book mark in the novel and closed it's pages, nodding in agreement with the Scotsman's statement.
"Did I hear we'd be stopping soon? Guess I should wake this one then, eh?" Cian clicked the upload button with a mischievous smirk plastered across his face, turning off his earbuds and reaching over to gently shake Medwyn's shoulder to wake him. Gradually, the blond come to, letting out a long yawn, rubbing an eye groggily and using the back of his hand to wipe the trickle of drool that stained his chin.
"Are we there yet?" the Welshman enquired, cracking his neck and stretching his arms.
"No, we're stopping at this service station." Arthur elaborated, pointing to a sign that was coming into focus that signalled that the service station would be located at the next turn.
"Oh, there's a Chinese take-out place! Shall we go there for food?" Cian leant forward in his seat.
"How do you know that?" Medwyn asked sleepily.
"It said the name of the restaurant on the sign, its a chain." Cian explained, pulling up the restaurant's name on an online search engine on his mobile phone to show Medwyn.
"It also said there was an Italian place here too. What about there?" Alistair interjected.
"Hm no, I think I like Cian's suggestion better. I'm not really feeling Italian food today." Medwyn stated.
"Yeah me too" Arthur chimed in.
Clicking his tongue, Scotland swung the car into a vacant parking spot and turned the keys to switch off the ignition, reluctant to admit that he was somewhat disappointed at having been out voted. Still, food was food and as the brunette stepped out of the vehicle his stomach emitted a loud, high-pitched rumbling that resulted in his face flushing from embarrassment. Cian, clocking the sound as he closed the car door, lightly chuckled at his brother's unease, looping an arm around the man's broad neck.
"Reckon you'll proper enjoy it, even if it's not Italian" Northern Ireland laughed, teasingly poking Scotland's abdomen, then speedily avoiding a retaliation from the Scot.
"Is this the place that gives you a bowl of prawn crackers and fortune cookies for free?" Wales spoke up, rising to his tip toes to stretch.
"Aye it is, do you think Arthur will get a good fortune this time lads?" England smirked in response to Northern Ireland's question, joining Wales's side as they strolled in the direction of the restaurant, with Scotland raising the car keys above his head and clicking the lock button.
"What was it last time? Something about being a twat?" Alistair mocked, blissfully ignoring the glare directed at him from Arthur.
"Pretty sure I was informed I'd come to blows with someone." The Englishman yawned, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his shirt's collar.
"So nothing new there then" Alistair grinned, earning a sly snicker from both Medwyn and Cian. Needless to say, Arthur was less than impressed. Thankfully, the restaurant wasn't too packed and the four were able to be seated with relative ease within minutes of entering the establishment. Alistair squinted to read the menu's miniscule writing, waving his hand dismissively at Arthur's calls for the man to wear his reading glasses to properly view the words before him. Sat across from Arthur and Alistair, Cian and Medwyn admired the decor that was evidently inspired by Shanghai nightlife, the pair visibly enthused when a bowl of prawn crackers were set down in the centre of the table.
"Are you guys ready to order any drinks?" the waiter enquired, his pen and pad at the ready. Arthur ordered a coffee, as did Medwyn, while Alistair and Cian each ordered a soda. Scribbling down the drink order, the waiter repeated the list back to the men to check he'd gotten it correct before prancing behind a small bar.
"Do any of you know what you're getting yet?" Cian whispered across the table.
"Hm, I'm thinking the kung pao chicken." Alistair nodded, folding the menu over and placing it down.
"I reckon I'll get a chow mein you know, it's just taking my fancy so it is." Medwyn licked his lips, reaching in for a prawn cracker.
"I may go for the wonton soup...if I get spring rolls will you lot have some? I won't eat them all." Arthur stroked his chin.
"Definitely. I'm totally ordering myself the sweet and sour pork." Cian crunched noisily on a prawn cracker. Once the waiter brought their drinks over, the brothers each placed their food orders and chatted amongst themselves.
Conversation topics ranged from football to gardening, but this soon ceased when food was presented at the table. Quiet descended upon the four as they ate, a rarity, with some fragments of talk resuming every now and again. After their plates had been cleared, drink glasses rendered empty and Arthur had signalled to the lively waiter for the bill, the men were not just provided with the cheque for their meal, but with four individually wrapped fortune cookies.
'You are kind and friendly' read Medwyn's fortune cookie.
'An exciting opportunity lies ahead of you' read Cian's fortune cookie.
'Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference' Alistair's read.
'In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities' Arthur's read.
"Hah! You got a funny one this time round!" Cian slapped his knee in amusement at Alistair's fortune cookie reading.
"Reckon its a sign to change your ways, Scot?" Medwyn failed to suppress a giggle, peering down to re-read his own fortune with a small smile.
"Nothing wrong with my atittude. Anyway, it isn't entirely wrong by sentiment is it? Shall we go?" The Scotsman stood without waiting for a reply. Leaving a tip, the brothers split briefly to run to the men's restrooms and stock up on snacks from the convenience store next door to the restaurant, reconvening at the car ready to resume their journey. On the road, Cian gradually drifted off listening to music while Arthur resumed reading his novel, Medwyn began knitting a scarf and of course Alistair drove. However, things were about to take a worrying turn when, driving through the town of Llandudno, Cian awoke with a start to shooting pains radiating across his stomach. Perplexed, the ginger wrapped his arms gently around his abdomen, a sudden feeling of nausea consuming him.
"Scot, pull over." Cian managed to croak out, saliva building in his mouth.
"Huh?" Alistair turned down the volume of the radio to better hear the younger.
"Scot please, we're not on the motorway, pull over." Cian pleaded, his breath quickening and heart beginning to pound as panic set in.
"Why?" Alistair asked, confused as to why Cian would want to stop.
"I think I'm gonna boke." Cian barely managed to choke out, willing himself not to start retching in the car.
"Me too" Cian turned his head to see Medwyn had turned a shade of green in the face and had a hand clamped firmly to his mouth, the scarf he'd been working on tossed aside. Now that they'd mentioned it, Alistair had noted his own stomach was hurting but merely ignored it, putting the issue down to him either eating too much or too quickly.
"Alistair we can pull over into this parking lot over by park, pl-" Arthur lurched forward, eyes wide and watering. Alistair, now joining his brothers in feeling overwhelmingly nauseous, pulled the car over on a country road and placed his hazard lights on. As soon as the vehicle came to a halt, all doors flung open and the four countries scrambled out, darting in different directions. Arthur simply dropped to his knees from where he sat, hunched over and vomiting violently into the road. Medwyn had hopped out of the car and rushed over to a nearby bush to be sick, whilst Cian had leant over a nearby fence that separated road from field to throw up. Alistair, willing himself not to vomit, shut his eyes and turned away from the sight of his sickly siblings, attempting to desperately to block out the noise of gagging and retching that filled the air. Unfortunately, it was a battle the Scotsman was gradually losing and he found his body instinctively moving over to a nearby tree, where he proceeded to lean against its rough bark for support as he brought up everything he'd eaten for lunch, breakfast, and quite possibly last night's evening meal. Following on from the cars that blared their horns at the brothers as they passed their abandoned vehicle and after what felt like a lifetime, all four slowly clambered into the car and briefly sat motionless.
"...Must've been the food" Cian mumbled under his breath, cradling his bubbling belly.
"Yeah...I can't believe this is happening" Medwyn let out a small belch, groaning aloud.
"Maybe we should go home..." Arthur curled up in his seat, feeling intense body heat radiating from his form.
"We're closer to the cottage than home, I'm not fit to drive us all the way back." Alistair rested his head on the steering wheel, trying to summon the strength to continue travelling.
"Yeah that's a good point, it's about twenty minutes away according to the navigation system. If you need me to take over Scot, I will." Arthur rubbed his stomach, resting an arm across his eyes once he'd consulted the navigation system. Alistair merely grunted in response to this, unable to conjure up the adequate words to string together a single, coherent sentence. The drive to the cottage should've taken twenty minutes, but in reality it took forty due to the near constant need for the car to halt for someone to puke. By the time the vehicle trundled into the driveway, all four brothers were beyond exhausted. However, the cottage housed only two toilets which, after what could only be described as a pathetic fight, were occupied by Cian and Arthur. That left Medwyn hugging a bucket in the sitting room and Alistair attached to the rubbish bin.
Hours passed by. In the end, the brothers gathered in the lounge accompanied by buckets, bags, and blankets with the television playing at a low volume in the background, bottles of water and boxes of painkillers littered across the coffee table.
"Ugh...So much for a relaxing getaway." Cian moaned, pulling a thick blanket over his head.
"I swear...we are making such a massive complaint about that place that- BLERGH" Arthur's head disappeared into a nearby bucket, prompting Medwyn to vomit too. For the duration of the weekend, the brothers spent the majority of the time curled up in bed or on a sofa dosed up on painkillers with what little water they could stomach. The drive back to London was a long painful one in which Scotland and England took turns driving and their journey had to include more frequent rest breaks. Alistair, in the middle of the motorway and unable to pull over, spontaneously threw up what little remained in his stomach all over his lap which left Arthur rushing to grab the steering wheel to steady the veering vehicle. This display made Medwyn hurl into a waste bag in the backseat, prompting Cian to rub his back whilst typing out a scathing online review for the restaurant, temporarily distracting himself from his surroundings to avoid being sick for what he imagined would be the hundredth time. For the rest of the journey, the car had all of its windows wound down and Alistair had to wait until the next station stop to change into anothet pair of clothes. By the time they reached London and their home was in sight, there was a collective sigh of relief.
"We should've got Italian" Scotland brought the car to a halt in the drive. All four sat in silence momentarily until, in response to the Scot's statement, Medwyn piped up.
"Shut up" the Welshman teased, which resulted in a half-smile from Alistair.