Bandelero-Casanova's Return:

Glee.

Chapter One:

Arthur Kirkland supposed that, not including himself, just about every person at Nation's High was a complete and utter dunderhead. Seriously. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as he watched the classroom bustle with stupidity; those Asian kids were dancing up the back - reminiscent of the late Michael Jackson, the two Italian twins were sobbing and throwing things at each other, and to top it off, that loud mouthed bastard, Francis Bonnefoy, was going on and on about how he had once again amazed his girlfriend last night with his sexual prowess. What was her name again? Arthur didn't care, not really. And he was fairly sure Francis didn't care too much either.

Green eyes scanned the room again, falling onto a stoic blonde figure right up the front. The person, about seventeen, maybe eighteen, was hunched over his desk, scribbling on paper as if his life depended on it. It was "The German", Ludwig, a boy of few words but exceedingly spectacular grades. Arthur wasn't sure if anybody had actually ever heard him speak more than four words at any given time, or, for that matter, convey any sort of emotion.

But still, he didn't seem like a moron. He seemed nice and quiet and clean. Arthur liked that. Maybe one day they would be friends? The British boy couldn't help but ponder such things as he watched Ludwig's back. Then, feeling Arthur's eyes upon him, the taller German boy turned around. For a split second their eyes met, blue and green locking onto each other and a look of sympathy and understanding passed between the two.

"Idiots" said Arthur's eyes, darting over to the rest of the class.

"Fools" said Ludwig's in agreement.

Ludwig then returned to his work, silently. To this Arthur could only let out a sigh, was there nobody intelligent who wanted to talk to him?

The rest of the day continued as such too. Arthur, notebook in hand at all times, wandered from class to class, tolerating idiots and trying his best to dodge Francis – who was now waltzing around the school with his girlfriend (a dark skinned girl from the Fishing Club) looking mortified behind him. But the day was drawing to a close; there was only one class left. Much to the green eyed boy's pleasure. Arthur's black sneakers squeaked a little as he walked to Maths, possibly his least favourite class in the whole wide world, but he'd more than tolerate it if it meant the end of another school day.

Actually, he didn't mind it in some ways, because the teacher was a real hound and made them all work in silence. Arthur loved silence.

Maybe he loved it because the school was always so noisy and chaotic?

Or maybe he loved it because, even in his own mind late at night, there was never silence. There was the school, there were the cars and buses and trains, there was the neighbours screaming and then there was his secret. Not his writing secret, because that wasn't a secret – everybody knew that Arthur loved to write. No, his real secret.

He could see things.

He could hear things.

Things that nobody else could see or hear.

Like ghosts...and unicorns. And a strange little sailor-suited gnome named Peter who lived in his old tree-house. Most of the time Arthur didn't mind these apparitions, even though he hated the noise and hated the lack of privacy, but they were friends and he enjoyed that well enough. Except for Peter; Peter wasn't a friend. He had taken control of Arthur's tree-house, proclaiming it his own land and country – Treeland.

Peter had even made up a flag, an anthem and a constitution.

Arthur hated Peter, just because he was so bloody annoying! Who sings "Treeland, oh Treeland, your leafy love is my home! We'll live on forever, I'll eat up all your acorns!" at 3 o'clock in the morning? Imaginary idiots, that's who.

Between imaginary idiots and real idiots, Arthur had no escape.

"Eh, if it isn't my favourite little booky-worm!" Francis chirped as Arthur pushed open the door to the class, he was five minutes early as per usual. It wasn't usual that Francis and his cronies be there though.

"What" Arthur snapped, "do you want now, frog?" How did that bastard become so popular anyway, Arthur wondered. Back when they had all gone to Nation's Primary, Francis was picked on constantly for being girly and wearing dresses. In fact, if Arthur remembered correctly, they had even been friends back then.

Maybe his secret wasn't so safe... he'd told Francis once. But that was years ago, the frog would never remember. He certainly never brought it up.

Thank her Majesty, the Queen.

Francis smirked, tapping a pencil against "The Spaniards" desk. Antonio was too busy staring out the window to bother noticing. "Oh, my, my, my... aren't we an angry little thing, cher? I just wanted to talk!"

"Pardon my French, but that's bullshit" Arthur retorted, smugly. Taking a seat. A rather large eraser hitting him in the back of the head.

"Don't worry about him, hun! He's a fucking faggot anyway" came a girl's voice. Fish-girlfriend's, Arthur presumed.

Francis didn't reply, he just sat quietly. A hand propping up his chin as he watched Arthur set to work – meticulously arranging his books and pens on his desk to that they were all accessible as well as aesthetically pleasing. Francis frowned a little.

They used to be good friends.

Hey guys and girls, if you've ever read any of my stuff before, I'd like to apologise for my long long long hiatus. It was horribly long, actually. But I had to get my life in order - fanfiction was not a priority at all really, there were more important things I had to worry about. Now, though, I've got the time to have a shot at again, which is really nice, no!?

Please accept my apologies! I'll try and update and work on everything soon! Thank you!!

As for first time reader's - thank you for reading! This is my first APH fic, so tell me what you think?

I should note that the 'ships for this are: FrUK, USUK (FAMILY!!), USCan, GerIta, RoChu and more. Depending on how it goes really. Stay tuned!

--Bande.