Romano crinkled his brow as he overheard Spain on the phone.

"Ahh, Italy, that's so nice! You're so adorable!" He exclaimed. "I would definitely love to meet you later! 'Kay, bye!" The landline device made a click, making the Italian's heart sink.

Crossing his arms, Romano softly, but stiffly made his way upstairs, so he could avoid another encounter, but was blatantly disrupted by his happy-go-lucky voice.

"Rooommaanooo!" The Spaniard exclaimed as if singing an annoying song which side-effects include a torturous, endless, earworm that will drive the sanest person insane.

Romano, with no desire for this broken record routine, continued to storm up the stairs and subsequently slammed the door before the running Spaniard on his heels could catch him. He could feel the happy slowly turning into light worry, and no way in hell would he let it happen!

"Romano? Are you oka-"

"Shut up. I get it. Just go."

"Romano! He's your broth-"

"I've heard this too many times, dammit! First you make me mad, then you try to butter me up again! Well, SIGNORE, I'm tired of it! It's always ROMANO this, and ROMANO that," Romano pushed his nightstand against the door harshly and with noticeable force.

"Romano, lo siento…"

But it was too late because Romano had already jammed his earbuds in his ears, sitting up in his bed, and could hear nothing the loud bass of his music.

...

A few distracting songs later, he ripped the tangled iPod out of his ears and threw them, making a loud clang as device hit his desk lamp, knocking it onto the floor.

Staying right where he was, Romano strained his ears, and heard nothing. So Spain did go. The bastard. He exhaled heavily. Being angry always made sense at the moment, but after you sit it out you feel like a stupid idiot.

Idiota, Romano thought, Just like my brother.

Romano took his phone out of his jeans and swiped the screen. 10:00pm. He subconsciously looked through his contacts, almost blinded by the phone's light because the night had fallen quickly and he was too upset to turn the lights on. He scrolled through them. They were all there because their bosses "required" them to have the phone number of the World Meeting members. There's the A's, America, Australia, Austria; the B's, Belarus (he shivered), Belgium, Buglari—wait. Belgium…

"Sorry, I cannot take your call right now, but pretty please with a cherry on top, leave a message after the beep. BEEP." Well….shit. He hung up.

Out of ideas, Romano wondered how she would help him anyway, when suddenly his blank face stained red as he remembered the childhood memories with her. He suddenly cringed and shook a little thinking of little Romano asking her to kiss him. Uggh. He hated to be constantly reminded that he was the brother with all the cringe-worthy moments, and Veneziano was the one that could get away with anything, with that charm and naivety. It was getting old, but somehow it was only him who thought that. Just thinking about it made his mind muddled and lost.

Was there something he could do about it?

As he let his mind wander more while lying on bed, somehow he must've gotten around to falling asleep because the next thing he heard was the front door slamming and distinctive, uneven chatter. First it was Spain's voice, all happy and shit, maybe more happy, loud, and slurred than usual, but every hair on Romano's body prickled on end as soon as he heard two other voices, (one French and one German, to be exact). Romano covered his face with his hands and pinching it tightly, praying to whatever deity, no, ALL deities and everything that one could pray to, that this was a dream.

He could already feel their voices violating his existence and every part of his body.

A/N Edit: First fanfiction so any reviews are appreciated! :)