Hetalia - On London's Stage [2a/12]
It had become a routine now. Alfred would sneak away from the group, after pleading with his brother to cover for him. Matthew agreed, albeit reluctantly. After ducking out of the group, he would double back, retracing his steps from that rainy day to the theatre that he’d become quite accustomed too. And like always, Arthur would be on the stage, sewing bits of costume, working on a prop, or a set piece.
Sometimes, if he was quiet enough, he could sneak in without Arthur noticing. And it was on these occasions he would be able to sit in the theatre, watching the always paint-splattered Brit recite lines from Hamlet.
He had also learnt to keep his cell on silent until he opted to let the Brit know he was there.
Arthur was an incredibly good actor, Alfred had decided after listening to him talk about some guy named Yorick on his third day of visiting. The American couldn’t understand just why his new friend would get so bashful when Alfred would praise him. It was really adorable sometimes. At least until Arthur would hit him, and yell at him to get back to whatever task he had given the blue-eyed blond to do. To which Alfred would reply with a snicker, but he would always get back to work.
Today was just like any one of those other days. With the exception that Alfred didn’t need to sneak out of his group, due to the fact that for some unknown reason, they actually were free to wander the city as long as they stayed in pairs. Gilbert and Francis had tried to convince him to accompany him, but he had turned them down. There response was to maturely tease him about his ‘hot date’ and inform him that he better ‘wear protection’, to which he replied with equal maturity. By flipping them off.
However, when he reached the theatre, things were incredibly different.
“Who are you?” It was a young girl, a year or so younger than him at least, standing in the center of the stage. She continued to stare at him, her blue ribbon bouncing in her short blonde hair as she tilted it to one side. “I’m sorry… But the theatre’s closed today for rehearsals…”
“Oh, yeah, you guys are puttin’ on your show at the end of the month, right?” She nodded, and the American rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve um, been comin’ in the passed few days and giving Arthur a hand…”
The girl blinked, before her eyes seemed to light up. “Oh! You’re Alfred!”
“Uh… Yeah.” Had Arthur mentioned him? That would’ve seemed out of character for the ever grumpy Brit…
“I’m Lily; I’m one of the actors.” She smiled, beckoning him to come closer. And Alfred couldn’t help but return her tiny smile with a grin. “My big brother is in charge of lighting, so I came in early with him.”
Alfred nodded, walking up the steps at the side of the stage. The younger girl continued smiling. “Arthur said you helped paint some of the set?”
“Ah, yeah… But then he yelled at me and said it looked horrible…” He pouted at the memory, and Lily giggled behind her hand.
“Oh that sounds just like him.” She twirled slightly, her pink dress flaring out around her. “That’s Arthur’s way of saying good job!”
“Really?” To this she nodded. And Alfred felt his grin grow wider and wider. His need to find the Brit, and shove that in his face growing. Though, that also brought about the curiosity of where he was…
As if reading his mind, Lily spoke up, bending down to scoop up a script. “Feliciano was having some problems sewing a piece onto one of the costumes.”
She gave a soft sigh, paging through the script as she sat down. “Poor Arthur… He does everything…”
“Well… He’s one of the stage managers isn’t he?”
“He’s really the only stage manager…” Lily shifted, looking up from her script. She was shifting uneasily, looking at him. And Alfred could tell immediately that she wasn’t sure she should say anymore.
So instead Alfred opted to sit beside her. “What part do you play?”
“Huh? Oh! Um, Ophelia…” She blushed slightly, idly tucking hair behind her ear. “I-I’m not very good though… I don’t know why Mr. Vargas casted me…”
“Mr. Vargas?”
“He’s the manager of our acting troop.”
“Grandpa casted you because you’re really good!” An energetic voice echoed throughout the theatre, Alfred turned his head as a bouncing brunet exited from one of the sides. He was smiling at them, one strange curl bobbing as he walked. Lily shifted shyly at his compliment, fingering the pages of her script.
“Feliciano… I-I’m really not…”
“Ve~ You are you are!” The brunet stopped in front of them, planting one hand on his hip, while bending over to poke Lily’s forehead. “You just get too nervous! Didn’t Grandpa say you were one of the best actresses we have?”
Lily didn’t answer, dropping her gaze to her lap. Alfred felt as though he were intruding, scooting away slightly. Neither seemed to notice.
“Bu-But I always fumble with my lines! And ope-” Feliciano, an Italian Alfred gathered from his accent, just placed a finger to her lips smiling an almost dopey smile.
“Worrying won’t get you anywhere. Grandpa only casts the best performers for the leads in our troop. And you are one of the best!”
“For once I agree with the idiot.” Ah, there was that familiar British voice. Arthur was exiting from the same wing Feliciano had, propping his glasses on top of his head with a frown. “I’ll help you go over your lines later if you want.”
“Ah! Th-That would be great. If you have time…”
“I can make some time,” Arthur responded when he reached her, reaching out to give her hair a playful ruffle. And Alfred could just see the small smile tugging at the corners of his frown. Green eyes shifted, landing on where Alfred had been sitting. A small exasperated sigh quickly following it. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, I’m here to do what I’ve been doing everyday? Let you boss me around and help out.”
Arthur was silent for a minute, before turning around and heading back to where he had come from. “I don’t have time for you’re antics today. Go back and bother your friends.”
“Wh-What? Hey! That’s not fair! You could’ve texted me if you were gonna be busy!” Alfred was on his feet in an instant, eyes wide. He was sure one of Arthur’s enormous eyebrows twitched.
“I’m a bit busy to ‘text you’, you insufferable git!” The Brit snapped, and Alfred found himself raising his hands in defense, blue eyes wide from the unpredicted attack. “Honestly! It’s just like you goddamn Americans to come waltzing in, assuming that everyone else can just drop what they’re doing to spend time with you! If you hadn’t noticed, I have a job that I’ve been trying to finish. Only to have it derailed everyday by a bumbling imbecile!”
“H-Hey if you jus-”
“You can’t just take hints can you!? Just get-”
“Ah! Fratello,” Arthur went stock still, Feliciano coming up to his side and patting his back. “Don’t be mean. You said Alf-”
“Do-Don’t touch me! You idiot!” Arthur had slapped the hand away, taking a step or two back. The Italian wilted, holding his hand.
“Fratello…”
“Don’t call me that!”
“But-”
“I said-”
“What the fuck’s with the shouting!?” Turning his head, Alfred watched another man join them. He looked remarkably similar to Feliciano, though with darker brown hair, and a strange curl on the opposite side. The newcomer paused, glancing around the scene in front of him, his scowl darkening. “Oi! Arthur, what the Hell did you do?”
“I didn’t-” But Feliciano had cut him off, rattling off in what he figured was Italian, and Arthur’s face was turning redder and redder with each word. And before Alfred realized it, Arthur too had busted out, shouting in Italian and leaving the American quite bewildered.
Lily was quick to step in. Calm and collected, acting as this was a daily occurrence. “Arthur, it’s your turn to get lunch.”
The shouting match (now between Arthur and the darker haired brunet) came to a halt. And Feliciano, who had been hiding teary eyed behind the other Italian, brightened. “Pasta!”
“No way, we had pasta last time!”
“Bu-But!”
“Go get pizza or something.”
“Bu-But Lovi-”
“Shut up! Dumbass, don’t you have to finish a costume!?”
“But I-I…”
“Get some Chinese! It’s cheaper!” Alfred’s head shot up, and he stared at the blond man who was perched on one of the cat walks above them. Blond hair cut in a similar style to Lily’s, and a… A gun!? Point at him!?
“Vash! What did I say bout paint ball guns in the theatre!?” Arthur snapped, suddenly in front of Alfred, arms crossed over his chest. The blond, identified as Vash, snorted.
“Yeah, and didn’t we have a talk about strangers in the theatre while we were working? Especially when they’re near my sister?”
“Brother!” Lily had raced forward, almost looking exasperated. “He isn’t a stranger. This is Alfred!”
Vash stared down at him, observing the American continuing to keep the gun aimed. “… Oh, you’re Arthur’s friend?”
“Yes! So please stop pointing you’re goddamn paintball gun at him!” Arthur snapped, and Alfred turned his gaze to stare at him, wondering if he realized the slip. The Brit didn’t pause though, running his hands down his face. “Honestly… Didn’t the old man take that from you?”
“Had another,” Vash responded, but Alfred was glad to see he had holstered the gun. The Brit in front of him released another groan, before shifting, pulling a notepad out of his pocket and a pencil from behind his ear.
“Fine, fine. What kind of Chinese food-”
“But pasta!”
“Oi! I want pizza!”
“-do you want Vash?” Arthur carried on, not listening to the Italian’s outburst.
“Whatever’s cheapest. We’re on a budget.”
“Ah! You liked the lo mein last time we ordered!” Lily piped in, glancing at the rafters before at Arthur. “W-We can share it! That was we save some money. Plus if you get the bigger size…”
Arthur nodded. “That alright by you Vash?”
A grunt was his response. Arthur just nodded, writing the order down on paper. Alfred watched quietly, the sandy blond glancing at where Vash had gotten back to work, before to Lily, whispering softly to her with the tiniest of smiles. “I’ll get you some white rice too Lily. My treat. We’ll tell Vash it came with the lo mein.”
“Thank you Arthur!” Her eyes lit up, and Alfred had to nod to himself. Ah, this girl, she was so adorable in that little sister manner.
“Bu-But…” Feliciano was sniffing, looking absolutely pathetic.
“And I’ll get you some pasta, and you some pizza Lovino,” the Brit responded, cutting the older Italian off before he could say a world. Jotting them down on the pad, green eyes glanced over to Alfred. “And I suppose you’d like a burger or some other horrible greasy food.”
“H-Huh?”
“To eat. We’ll have to feed you if you’re going to be helping.”
Alfred snorted, planting his hands on his hips. “Weren’t you the one who just told me to get lost?”
Arthur just released a short, irritated breath of air, holding the pad out to Feliciano. “Go find out what Kiku and the others want.”
The air-headed brunet nodded, skipping off. Lily giggled, ignoring the annoyed look that she got from the Brit. Lovino snorted as well, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Damn, I forget how fucking pissy you get before the show.”
“You’d be ‘pissy’ too if you had a lot of work left to do!” He snapped, and Alfred thought he would punch the Italian across the face. Lily was quick though, stepping between them. She seemed use to it.
“Lovino, how’re the dresses coming?”
“Slowly,” the Italian snorted, and it was only then that he took notice of the tomato red cast that wrapped around the darker brunet’s right forearm. “I can’t do all the details, but they’ll get done.”
“Thanks to me and Elizaveta,” Arthur responded, still scowling.
“I can’t help it my brother sucks at detailing.” Lovino responded hotly, giving an indignant sniff as he looked off to the side. “’Sides, you offered!”
“Yes because I was just going t-”
“I’m back~” Feliciano skipped towards them, holding the pad out to Arthur, inadvertently halting an upcoming fight. With a small sigh, Arthur took the offered pad of paper, turning his head to look at Alfred. The American in question opted to stand off to one side awkwardly throughout the exchanges.
“You can help, come on.” Alfred didn’t get a choice in the matter really. Arthur had grabbed hold of his wrist the moment he was done speaking, storming out of the theater, only pausing to grab a hunter green knapsack with a unicorn keychain off one of the seats.
PART 2 >>>