A/N This is a sequel/companion to the AU story That Song Called Love that I wrote. It is not necessary to read that one first or at all to comprehend this story. However, if you like Prucan, you might enjoy it. I hope you enjoy this story and please review.

EDIT: This story contains the following pre-established couples: Prussia/Canada, Spain/S. Italy, and Greece/Japan.

WARNING! This story contains many mature concepts such as infidelity and depression. It is not a happy story. For those of you who've read That Song Called Love, this story will be nothing like that one was. This is darker and deals with more harsh subjects. Turn back now if any of that bothers you.

Feliciano entered the gym of his high school and quickly scanned the crowd for a familiar head of blond, gelled hair, not even noticing that his brother hadn't followed him in. The room was a mass of teenagers all ready to put high school behind them tonight, most already in their blue caps and gowns. Thankfully, Ludwig's height set him slightly above the crowd and Feliciano let out an excited hum before dashing across the gym to his best friend.

"Ve~ Ludwig! I can't believe we're graduating!" Feliciano sang out happily before throwing his arms around him. Ludwig quickly shoved him off and looked away. Feliciano frowned.

"Ve, Ludwig, is something wrong?" he asked.

He wasn't the type of person who usually noticed things, but Ludwig's behavior as the end of high school drew closer had changed dramatically enough that even Feliciano had noticed. He barely spoke to anyone and was becoming, if possible, even more antisocial than before. Kiku had assured him when he had gone to his house for advice that is was merely the stress of college applications and that Ludwig would recover after he was accepted into a university. Feliciano had believed him but after Ludwig had chosen his school it had only gotten worse. It had Feliciano worried.

"Nothing's wrong," Ludwig said curtly before looking back at him. "Your mortarboard's crooked."

Feliciano's hands flew to his head and grabbed the sides of the mortarboard, trying fruitlessly to straighten it. Ludwig reached over and set it carefully on Feliciano's head, lining the corners up perfectly and draping the mortarboard's tassel carefully so that it hung over Feliciano's left cheek. He eyed him again and grabbed the shoulders of the gown and rearranged it so that the wrinkled gown (which had spent the last few days crumpled in Ludwig's car–Feliciano had forgotten it there) was hanging as straight as possible. He pulled off one of the sets of cords that were hanging around his neck.

"You left this in my car," he mumbled before pulling draping them around Feliciano's neck.

"Thank you, Ludwig," he said sheepishly. "It's a good thing I have you around! I don't know what I'd do without you." He grinned. Ludwig looked away again. Feliciano's grin faltered a bit before he plastered it back on and linked his arm with Ludwig's.

"Let's go find Kiku!" he suggested before tugging on his arm and heading toward the section where all of the IB students were milling with their stoles. They found Kiku at the edge of the crowd with Heracles, who had a suspicious moving lump in his gown. They greeted their friends and chatted (the lump occasionally meowing) until the teachers in charge of the graduation ceremony ordered them to get to their places. Giving his best friend one last hug, Feliciano skipped back to the spot where he was sitting with his brother (who had been out in the parking lot with Antonio the whole time).

"Ve~ brother, aren't you exited?" he asked his twin cheerfully, who scoffed in response.

"Che, I don't know what the big deal is," he muttered darkly before the teachers on their megaphones continued shouting instructions. The students filed down to the football field where there were rows of plastic chairs set up for the students and sat down in their assigned spots. Feliciano was thrilled when they sat down and discovered that Ludwig was in the row behind him. He tried to talk to Ludwig throughout most of the ceremony, but Lovino constantly yanked on his gown and pulled him back forward.

They watched as their friends names were called and finally their own. The ceremony passed smoothly (with the exception of a small white and brown cat who was wandering around the field and tripped a few graduating seniors) and soon it was over.

Friends and family joined their newly-graduated companions. Feliciano and Lovino found their grandfather and their friends who had graduated the year before. Antonio had obviously come to watch Lovino graduate, Matthew had come with his family to watch his brother, Alfred, graduate, which meant that Gilbert had come, too, both to see his little brother graduate and to spend time with his boyfriend of nearly two years. Francis, never one to skip out on a chance to hang out with his friends, had shown up as well.

It was after a few minutes of catching up with his family and friends that he realized that his best friend was nowhere to be seen.

"Ve, where's Ludwig?" Feliciano asked, looking around for his missing best friend.

"He's over there," Gilbert muttered, pointing and looking pained, "with our parents."

"Your parents?" exclaimed Matthew's mother. As if on cue, everyone looked over at Ludwig. Most of the group had never seen Gilbert and Ludwig's parents before and were eager to finally get a glimpse of the elusive Weillshmidts.

Their father had dark blond hair and a stern face. He was wearing an immaculate black suit and a deep frown etched on his face. Their mother, on the other hand, had light blonde hair and a rounder face, as well as a hint of a smile. She was wearing an expensive-looking green dress which hung nicely on her thin frame. It was clear which child took after which parent; Ludwig and his father were nearly identical and there were definite similarities between Gilbert and his mother.

"Dude, your mom's hot," Alfred stated. Ivan's face twisted slightly before slipping back into a small smile. Feliciano swallowed and took a step closer to grandfather. Alfred's mother leaned over and smacked him. "Oww! Mom!"

Gilbert didn't even seem to have noticed Alfred's remark. He was edging closer to Matthew and frowning deeply. Feliciano blinked in confusion before looking back over at Ludwig and his parents. Ludwig happened to look over at that time and Feliciano waved happily. A look of disapproval crossed his mother's face and Ludwig's father frowned even more deeply. Feliciano shuddered at the expression. It was scarier than any of the glares Ludwig had ever sent his way. He looked away and saw Gilbert hiding behind Ivan and the rest of the group looking at him awkwardly.

"Ve, Gilbert, what's wrong?" Feliciano asked, deeply concerned. Even he could see that something was up.

"Nothing's wrong, Feli," he replied, though he didn't move from his spot behind Ivan. Romano cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Antonio, how was the first year of college? It's been so long since I've seen you I never got a chance to ask."

"It was great, Señor Vargas," Antonio said happily before launching into a long story about his first year of college. Feliciano looked over again and saw Ludwig walking toward them, thankfully alone.

"Ludwig!" he said happily before rushing toward him. He stepped aside and neatly avoided Feliciano's hug. Feliciano frowned at the stiff and sad expression in his face. His heart clenched in worry. He still had no idea what was wrong with Ludwig but whatever it was, being around his parents seemed to make it worse.

"We're leaving now and I wanted to say goodbye to Gilbert," he said quietly, avoiding looking at Feliciano.

"Oh, he's over there," Feliciano said, pointing at Ivan. Ludwig nodded and took a step forward before Feliciano stopped him with a hand on his arm. He swallowed nervously. Ludwig kept looking away.

"Ludwig," he said softly. "Promise we'll keep in touch? Promise you won't forget me?"

"I promise," Ludwig said gruffly. Feliciano grabbed his hand and looped their pinky fingers together.

"Pinky promise?"

Ludwig sighed.

"Pinky promise."

Feliciano smiled at him. "Okay. I'll see you later, Ludwig. You promised."

Ludwig let a small smile cross his face.

"Goodbye, Feliciano," he said before going over to where Gilbert was still hiding. Feliciano watched the two brothers take a quick picture together before Ludwig rejoined his frowning parents. He watched them leave, Ludwig's words ringing in his head.

"He won't write you," Lovino said quietly next to him. His tone wasn't angry, like it usually was when he talked about Ludwig. Instead, he almost sounded sad.

"Yes, he will," Feliciano insisted. "He promised and I believe him."

Lovino had been right. Feliciano wrote to Ludwig all of the time. He sent him plenty of emails and texts, all of which went unanswered. He even tried sending actual letters to Ludwig's school in hopes of reaching him.

No luck. No matter what he tried, he didn't receive a single reply. He kept trying to contact Ludwig for an entire year after graduation before he finally stopped trying. Occasionally, he would hear word of him through Antonio, who got news from Gilbert. That was how Feliciano knew when Ludwig had gotten married a few years later and his heart had broken completely. That day, he'd lost all faith in Ludwig's promise and any thought of trying to contact him died.

Feliciano tried to bury his hurt at Ludwig's betrayal with his art. He had known for a long time that he wouldn't be able to go through college and had decided to devote his life to the one thing he knew how to do well: art.

He and his grandfather had worked out a system for him. Romano paid half of his rent for a small studio apartment but Feliciano had been forced to get three part-time jobs to pay for the rest of the rent, his groceries, and the expensive art supplies he needed. Every spare moment he spent painting until he fell asleep at his easel.

Some of his paintings he managed to sell on the streets, usually at the beach where there were richer people who had the cash to blow on art. A few of his paintings he managed to get into mom and pop art stores, but for the most part, he remained just as poor as the day he'd graduated high school. The only improvement in his life in the seven years after graduation was selling enough paintings to be able to quit one of his part-time jobs and pay two thirds of the rent.

It was one of those days at the beach, painting the surfers on the waves, that changed his life forever. He'd been approached by a man in a suit who had offered him a big job, painting a huge mural in an office building. It was a steady, promised two months of work that paid three times as much as both of his paychecks combined. He immediately agreed.

He'd been briefed on his new job by the man, Mr. Jackson, right then and there. The business the man worked for had a building under construction and they wanted a large mural for the lobby.

"The boss' cousin wants one of those paintings that goes straight on the wall," Mr. Jackson had informed him through the cigar clenched eternally between his teeth.

"A fresco?"

He had shrugged.

"Something like that. We want something to show that we're a global company. A globe in the center with stuff around it. Can you do that, Vargas?"

Feliciano had done a few frescoes before so he nodded.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Jackson," he had replied.

"Then you'll start next week."

There was no room to argue. Feliciano had arranged to get half the paycheck before (which would last him long after the time it would take to do the actual job) and the second half later. Feliciano finished his week of work before quitting one of his two part-time jobs. The other, he managed to arrange so that he only worked on the weekends.

The new week started and he set out on the bus early to make sure he was at his new job on time. The entire building was half-completed. The lobby wasn't finished, but they'd put up the wall where the fresco was supposed to go and a plastic curtain around the area to protect the mural from any dust from the construction work The plaster supplies were all set out and Feliciano had brought his tools and the new paints he'd been given money for. He'd already sketched out what he was thinking of and Mr. Jackson had already approved it. He only had to get to work now.

He started with the arriccio. The twenty by eight foot rectangle for the painting took him all day to cover and several more days to dry. After it was dry enough, he was ready to begin sketching in the lines for the actual painting. He didn't have any assistants and Mr. Jackson had informed him that he had free range on the wall after the sketch was approved. Construction was still going on but no one bothered Feliciano and the noise wasn't too bad.

He started in the middle where the globe was supposed to go. After carefully measuring, Feliciano started sketching out the globe. He hummed and sang softly as he worked.

"Draw a circle, there is Earth. Draw a circle, there is Earth. Draw a circle..."

The next two days involved sketching out the globe with the other continents spreading out even larger behind it. Finally, on the second week after he began the project, he started mixing plaster. The wet mixture was smoothed down over the small portion of the wall he was working on and once it had firmed a little, he started to work.

Time flew by and before he knew it, the construction workers were all heading home. Feliciano packed away all of his tools before going out to catch the bus. He was exhausted and collapsed in his bed as soon as he'd eaten some dinner.

His days continued that way for two weeks before things changed. He was putting the finishing touches on the Northern tip of the globe when he heard the front door opening. Workers were always heading in and out so that wasn't anything new; what was new was Mr. Jackson's loud voice.

"Everything's going fine, Mr. Weillschmidt, we even got a cheap artist to get the job done."

Feliciano gasped at the name and dropped his paintbrush. As it fell, it dragged the bristles dripping with white paint down the dark blue and green globe.

"Merda!" Feliciano hissed as the paint smeared across the painting. He grabbed a rag and started blotting out the paint, listening eagerly for the other man's reply. It couldn't be him. It couldn't.

"That's good," a familiar deep voice answered. Feliciano felt his blood run cold. Oh, God, it was Ludwig. He started blotting the wall harder, desperately trying to get the white stain off of the wall.

"Want to see the progress? I caught a glimpse the other day and it's really going well."

"No," Feliciano whispered to himself. "Please, no, no, no, no, no."

"Yes, why not?"

Internally, Feliciano screamed. The white paint had barely left a mark on the wall, but he'd still have to go over a huge portion and fix it a secco later. There was a soft noise as the plastic curtains were pushed aside and Feliciano prayed for time to stop.

It didn't.

"Hello, Mr. Jackson," he greeted nervously, sneaking a quick look over to his companion.

"Hello, Vargas!" he boomed. "Got someone here today you should meet! Ludwig Weillschmidt! He's the cousin of our boss and the one who commissioned this fresca!"

"It's 'fresco'," both Feliciano and Ludwig said at the same time. Feliciano's heart was pounding. It was Ludwig all right. His hair was still slicked back with gel and he looked the exact same as the last time he seen him. He looked older of course; they both did. But there was no denying they both recognized each other from the moment their eyes locked.

"Right, right, fresco," Mr. Jackson mumbled. "At any rate, this here is Vargas." He took a look at the wall. "It's turning out nice, isn't it, Vargas?"

"Thank you, sir," he answered quietly.

"Very nice," Ludwig agreed, looking past Feliciano at the fresco.

"Thank you," he whispered again.

Then, Mr. Jackson and Ludwig walked away. After the elevator door had closed behind them with a ding Feliciano let himself slide down the wall and collapse onto the floor. He buried his face into his folded knees and felt the wetness from his eyes drip onto his paint-stained pants.

*IB stands for International Baccalaureate and it's a diploma that is accepted internationally. You get one from participating in a special program where the work is much harder than the regular classes in American high schools (which tend to be pretty easy).

*A stole for a graduation gown looks kind of like a tie and is worn around the shoulders. It distinguishes that you've accomplished something special, like completing the IB program or an honors program.

*Cords are also awarded for certain things, such as spending all four years of high school doing one sport or art. Feliciano got a cord for being in the art program all four years of high school. Ludwig got one from soccer.

*Romano Vargas is Rome.

*A fresco is a painting that is painted directly onto the plaster of a wall, either wet, called "buon fresco", or dry, called "a secco". Feliciano is using the more difficult buon fresco method. Mistakes in frescoes are very difficult to fix and usually done a secco.

*Arriccio is a rough layer underneath the plaster in the buon fresco method that must be laid down before any painting can begin.

*"Merda" is Italian for "shit".