"How could you do this to me, you fucking frog!" Arthur Kirkland growled. Tears streamed down his face. Francis tried to console his husband, but Arthur shoved him away.

"A-Arthur! It's not what it looks like!"

"It's not what it looks like? YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT IT'S NOT WHAT IT FUCKING LOOKS LIKE? WELL, IT LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE FUCKING KISSING THAT BLOODY SLUT!"

"I-It was an accident! I swear- "

SLAP!

"I don't want to hear it. Alfred! Matthew!" He yelled for his sons. Alfred and Matthew came rushing down the stairs, fear and confusion evident in their faces.

"Pack your bags, we're leaving." He muttered, his voice low and bitter.

"You can't take both of them! Non! I won't let you!" Francis protested.

"Then fine! Let's ask them who they want to be with!"

In the end, Alfred chose to be with Arthur, while Matthew stayed with Francis.

When I was younger

I saw my daddy cry

And curse at the wind

I was only 8 when my Dad and Papa separated. After Dad left, my Papa had been sad and melancholic. There was even a time when I saw my Papa leaning by the balcony. He was crying heavily. He looked disheveled, unlike the man that I had known since birth.

"Arthur... come back... I miss you, love. I'm sorry..." He sobbed. He was holding a picture of Dad.

The wind blew, making Papa let go of the photograph. Losing the photo must've reminded him of losing dad.

"Stupid fucking wind!" He cursed.

He grabbed the bottle of beer, that was sitting on the small table, and drank half the bottle in less than a minute.

He broke his own heart

And I watched

As he tried to reassemble it

Papa brought another one again. Ever since dad left, he kept bringing different men and women home. He never brought home the same person twice, though. This time, it was a woman older than him, with dyed blonde hair and face covered in make up.

"Mon cher~ Why you look ravishing in that dress. However, I think you would look even better without it!" He winked. He was guiding the lady up the staircase.

"Oh Francis, you little charmer." The lady swooned. As they reached his bedroom, Papa held the door for her.

"After you, mademoiselle..." He gestured.

He kept sleeping with these women, but I always knew that he was just filling up the hole in his heart that was left by my Dad.

And my momma swore

That she would never let herself forget

During the first two weekends of the month, Dad would pick me up and I would go there. For the last two weekends of the month, Papa would pick up Alfred and we would stay here. That was the arrangement that they came up with and agreed on. We always eat out when we are with Dad. He can't cook to save his life.

"Dad, can you just forgive Papa, so we can be a family again?" Alfred asked

"I'm sorry, lad. I'm afraid I can't do that. I can never forget what he did." My dad answered bitterly.

With how things are, my family will never be whole again. Maybe this is what life intended. Maybe love just doesn't last. Love doesn't exist. If that is the case, then maybe not finding love is better. You can't lose something that you don't have, right? And... I know that it will only hurt. If love doesn't exist, then I should just forget about it. I promise that I would never subject myself to that kind of torture. I promise that I will never fall in love.

And that was the day that I promised

I'd never sing of love

If it does not exist

"Hey Mattie, have you ever had a crush on someone before?" Alfred asked. We are 16 now. A lot of things had changed.

"Nope." I answered.

"But why? You're the only person I know who doesn't talk about anything romantic and doesn't even have a crush. Why though?"

"To me, love is a distant memory. Love doesn't exist. Platonic love is okay, I guess. Romantic love though... tsk. It's a joke you all believe in. As if I'll ever fall for that-"

THUMP!

But darlin'

You are, the only exception

"Sorry, dude. I wasn't looking where I was going." The person who bumped into me apologized. His voice had a german accent. He held out his hand and helped me up. I looked up and saw who the owner of the hand is. He was a man with snow white hair and crimson red eyes. What's weird about this man, however, is that he looked like he is about to cry.

Maybe I know, somewhere

Deep in my soul

That love never lasts

"Hey Gilbert! Guess what?" Elizabeta said giddily.

"What?" I asked, although I think I already know why she's so happy.

"Me and Roderich are now OFFICIALLY a couple!" She screamed.

"O-oh... congrats, I guess... hahhahah. The piano-obssesed wimp finally confessed?" I teased, struggling to hold back tears.

"Yes!" She giggled, her laugh like music to my ears.

"I-I just remembered... I gotta go somewhere! Uh... see ya later!" I quickly excused myself. It was unmanly to cry.

And we've got to find other ways

To make it alone

But keep a straight face

Elizabeta is my bestfriend and my long-time crush. I always knew that she liked Roderich. I just thought that I could ignore it, that I could keep a straight face... That I could make myself numb to the pain. Sometimes, when we hang out, she'll bring that priss along. Whenever he's there with her, I can't help but feel alone. She devotes all her attention to him.

And I've always lived like this

Keeping a comfortable, distance

And up until now

I had sworn to myself that I'm content

With loneliness

I confessed to her one day. I told her that I loved her, but she told me that she only saw me as a friend. Ever since that day, I swore to myself that I will never fall again. That I'm content with being alone forever. If it means that I won't be hurt again, then so be it. I haven't had another crush in years.

Because none of it was ever worth the risk

However, knowing that they are now officially a couple hurts more than I can take. I excused myself from Elizabeta and I ran. I ran away. I sprinted to the nearest bathroom, not wanting anyone to see my tears. I'm a man. I can't let them see me cry.

THUMP!

But, you are, the only exception

In my hurry, it seems that I had bumped into someone. I held out my hand, helping him up. When he looked up, I saw two purple orbs staring right at me. After, helping him, I quickly sped off to the nearest boys' bathroom.

I locked myself in a cubicle and started to sob. I cried violently. I cursed Roderich and blamed him, even though I knew that it was my fault. Someone knocked at my cubicle. I opened the door, meeting a familiar pair of purple eyes.

"What do you want?" I growled

"You looked like you could use someone to talk to. What happened?" The guy asked

"The girl I love is with another guy."

"Want to talk about it? My name's Matthew."

"Gilbert."

"I've got a tight grip on reality

But I can't let go of what's in front of me here

I know your leaving in the morning, when you wake up

Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream, oh~" Matthew sang. It had been 10 years, since that fateful meeting. Eventually, they became friends, and it turned to something more. Today is their wedding day. Matthew wanted to dedicate this song to him, showing him how he changed his heart that no longer believed in love. He was about to sing the next line, when a voice beat him to it.

"You are, the only exception

You are, the only exception

You are, the only exception

You are, the only exception"

His husband sang. Gilbert came up on stage and decided to sing the next verse of the song. Matthew smiled at his husband and joined him for the last chorus,

You are, the only exception

Francis watched his son sing on stage with his husband. He was glad that his son is finally happy. The way Gilbert looked at Matthew reminded Francis of how he used to look at him.

You are, the only exception

He smiled sadly at the memory. Oh, how he missed him. If only he hadn't been so stupid. Francis decided to get another glass of wine to distract him from his thoughts. He walked over to the table and grabbed the bottle of wine. However, he wasn't the only one who wants a glass. He and a pale hand tried to grab the bottle at the same time, causing their hands to touch.

You are, the only exception

He looked up and was surprised to find who the owner of the pale hand is. Familiar forest-green eyes met his. Those breathtaking orbs and that messy blonde hair can only belong to none other than Arthur Kirkland.

You are, the only exception

"Arthur?"

"Frog." Arthur groaned

"And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing." Matthew finished, smiling at his parents.