Just a quick note: I do not write accents, but mostly because of my lack of exposure to foreign accents besides... well, Filipino, but I still can't write an English speaker with a Filipino accent. Let's just pretend that they all have accents! Yay! Oh, and when I say that the Germans are fighting against the Americans and the British, I don't mean literally, because I know that Canadians and other countries also fought in WWII. It's just in the particular painting.

"Ve, isn't this fun, Matthew?" Feliciano asked, putting the paintbrush behind his ear as he stepped back to examine the painting. It was of a picture of a cornflower growing in the middle of a battlefield between the Allies and the Axis powers during World War II, as Feliciano explained. It was beautiful, and the symbolism was astounding. He said that the cornflower was the national flower of Germany, and even though Germans were fighting against the Americans and the British (which made Matthew think of Feliciano's friend Ludwig fighting against Alfred and Arthur), it showed that not all of Germany was plunged into the anti-Semitism belief, and that Germany was still a great country. Matthew didn't have half of Feliciano's talent as an artist. Sure, he wrote a few poems, and could draw a person on a decent day, but Feliciano was like one of the Muses, except a male one.

"Kind of. I'm not very good at drawing or painting. Or art in general." Matthew blushed and pointed to his painting. "You could probably already tell that I'm not an artist."

"No, it's good, it's like, uh… abstract art," Feliciano said, beaming, but scratching the back of his head nervously. Matthew shrugged, but was grateful that Feliciano at least tried to compliment his awful attempt at a petunia.

"Thanks," said Matthew, and Feliciano "ve'd" happily and turned to finish some last minute details before class would be over.

Matthew spent the rest of his time watching Feliciano work. He finished his petunia, and decided that watching the Italian work on the painting of the cornflower in the battlefield was a much better use of his time.

The last few days had gone by fast. Matthew had mostly stuck around Lovino between and after classes, but he still spent time with Alfred and Arthur during breakfast. Matthew also spent a little bit of time with an eighteen year old named Roderich Edelstein, the musical genius of Hetalia Academy, who Lovino liked because Roderich hated the Bad Touch Trio. Matthew didn't hate the trio, though he was cold towards Gilbert, but he thought Antonio was nice and Francis was… well, Francis was Francis. Flirty and gorgeous as usual. Matthew blushed at the thought. He'd managed to avoid Francis most of the time, but the one time Francis almost talked to Matthew, Lovino started yelling from down the hall at the Frenchman. Matthew was both relieved and disappointed.

"I'll see you later, Matthew! I have to get- Ludwig! Ludwig! Help! My shoelace is untied!" Feliciano said a second after the bell rang, and then he raced outside to catch up with the blonde German. Matthew rolled his eyes, knowing that Ludwig wouldn't say no. The German really ought to just teach the Italian how to tie his shoes, though he probably already tried.

"There you are, dumbass! Didn't I tell you we had to hurry?" Lovino came up from behind Matthew as he was walking out of the art room, and the Italian grabbed Matthew's ear and started dragging him down the hallway. Though Matthew didn't like being called a dumbass, especially from his friend, he knew that Lovino didn't mean it.

"Oh yeah…" Matthew murmured as he was dragged down the hall, only to bump right into Lovino when the Italian abruptly stopped.

"Shit," Lovino said, scowling. "There they are."

Matthew's seen the Bad Touch Trio plenty of times, but not all walking at the same time. The girls in the hall turned and drooled at the sight of the trio, including Lovino and Matthew himself, though he found himself staring at Francis, and Lovino at Antonio. All three of them were walking in synchronization, and wore the same white dress shirts and sleek black pants. Was the hallway getting hotter, or was Matthew sick? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"Ah, there you are, mon cher! I must speak to you, alone," Francis said, smirking at him, and Matthew blinked before nodding slowly, swallowing audibly. He gave Lovino a quick helpless glance before being pulled into an empty classroom by the Frenchman. Francis swiftly locked the door, and Lovino tried banging on the door before Antonio swept the Italian into a hug, making Lovino yell curses at him as he chased the Spaniard down the hall. Matthew knew that when Lovino was done chasing Antonio, they would meet Roderich in the auditorium.

"Bonjour, Mathieu. Comment ça va?" Francis asked, sitting on top of an empty desk near the window.

"Bien, m-merci," said Matthew, stuttering slightly. He internally groaned. He thought that he had gotten over his stuttering problem years ago. He'd spent ages talking in the mirror, trying not to stutter, only to start stuttering again. Great.

"That's good," said Francis, and he looked away from Matthew's eyes for one moment, taking out a camera from his pocket. "I never got to apologize for Gilbert tripping you down the stairs. By the way, he is sorry for that, but he is much too 'awesome' to apologize. So, I will be the one to make it up to you!"

"You don't have to," said Matthew shyly, turning his body slightly away from Francis to hide his blush. It didn't help that the sun was shining right onto his face through the window. But he was glad he didn't stutter this time.

"Ah, but I must, mon cher. I feel terribly for the incident, and I spent the day worrying about you," Francis said, smiling at Matthew, and he wondered if Francis was always this charming, or if it was just an act. It seemed genuine, though. "And so, I will make it up to you. I already have an idea."

"What's the id-" Matthew began when Francis suddenly let out a squeak of excitement.

"There! There! Right there! The light is perfect! Your eyes look completely violet!"

Matthew wasn't sure, but did Francis seriously just squeal?

"Um, okay…" Matthew trailed off, and blinked at Francis, who started snapping pictures of him. "Why do you need a p-picture of my eyes?"

"For my collage. Wait one more moment, and I will explain." A few pictures later, Francis put his camera down and grinned at Matthew. "I am taking a photography class, and I am making a collage of you. When it's done and graded, I will give it to you. But, your birthday is in July, non?" Matthew nodded, trying to ignore the fact that his cheeks were burning. "Then I will give it to you as a Christmas present."

"You really, r-really don't have to," Matthew said, knowing that his protests were weak. He thought it was sweet, though he hoped that nobody else knew about the project besides the photography teacher.

"But I really, really want to," said Francis, starting to lean closer to Matthew, and Matthew wasn't sure if he would be able to pull himself away until the door flew open and an angry Lovino marched in.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you damn wine bastard! Go rape somebody who doesn't have standards!" Lovino shouted, and Matthew, not wanting to infuriate Lovino more, gave Francis an apologetic look before following the Italian to the auditorium.

"I cannot believe him. At least Antonio doesn't try to rape people, though he tries to rape me," Lovino muttered, and Matthew, who was still slightly in a trance from Francis's close proximity, looked up in surprise.

"Antonio tries to rape you?" he asked in quiet disbelief.

"Well, he tries to hug me, and to me, that is rape," said Lovino, and they finally arrived in front of the auditorium. "Thank fucking God we all have study hall at the same time, so we can discuss how to avoid the damn Bad Touch Trio. Or just vent."

Matthew let out a small laugh. "So when Feliciano hugs you, that's rape?"

"No, you dumbass!" Lovino yelled, though he had a small, amused smile on his face. "You know what I mean by hugs are rape. Only from Antonio are hugs equal to rape."

"Of course," said Matthew, and they both opened the doors to the auditorium to see Roderich up on the stage, playing the violin. He played both the violin and piano.

The Austrian didn't acknowledge that Matthew and Lovino were there until he finished the song. Matthew and Lovino both clapped politely from the first row. Roderich bowed slightly and went backstage to put his violin away before he sat beside Matthew.

"That was great," Matthew told him quietly, and Roderich smiled from the compliment.

"Thank you," said Roderich, and he looked at Lovino, who was staring at the stage. "You look miserable. Did Antonio touch you again?"

"Yeah, he did. Fucking bastard," said Lovino, grounding his teeth together. "What about you? Did you see Gilbert today?"

"He practically tackled me this morning on the way here. He ruined my tie, and he tried to steal my homework!" Roderich stuck his nose into the air and 'hmphed'. "He's an ass."

"Don't we fucking know it," said Lovino, sitting back and looking up at the ceiling. "We're a trio, too. We're the Victims of the Bad Touch Trio… uh, Trio. Great, our trio name has trio in it twice! Dammit!"

"We don't need a trio name, otherwise we'll sound just as cocky as them. Only cocky people give their friends and themselves a group name," said Roderich, sounding disdainful at the thought of a trio name.

"True," said Lovino, and he sat up. "You don't have any more songs to practice for your recital?"

"I have a few more, but I already mastered them. But perhaps it won't hurt to practice them again. Thank you, Lovino," Roderich said, and he went backstage again to unpack his violin.

"When is his recital?" Matthew asked Lovino.

"Tomorrow night, here, at eight o'clock," Lovino answered, and they both turned to the stage as Roderich announced the song he was about to play. For the rest of study hall, Matthew listened to Roderich practice while thinking about what would've happened had Lovino not been there to interrupt what Francis would've started to do.

"Stay by me. We've got to try to avoid them. No doubt they'll be here. Gilbert's obsessed with giving Roderich hell," said Lovino, pulling Matthew through the crowd to the front row of the auditorium. "Keep an eye out for the tomato bastard and the wine bastard. If I know the albino freak, he's probably backstage trying to rape Roderich."

"Why would he try to rape Roderich if he hates him?" Matthew asked curiously.

"You can't rationalize with an irrational man. I don't know, he likes sex but can't get anyone so he resorts to raping the one person he hates the most? That sounds logical. I mean, he's no wine bastard, though I don't know why anyone would want to fuck the French pervert." Lovino scowled and looked around as soon as they sat down. "That's weird. I don't hear or see them. Something's going to happen. They're planning something."

"You think it's gonna be something bad?" Matthew asked, turning in his seat to see Antonio and Francis enter, both smiling and laughing. "There's Antonio and Francis. Should we hide?"

"Get down," Lovino said, yanking Matthew's arm down so their heads were below the backs of the seats. Unfortunately for Lovino's pride and to Matthew's embarrassment, Antonio and Francis ended up sitting right beside them, with the Frenchman smirking down at him. Matthew quickly sat back up and smiled at him sheepishly, knowing his cheeks were as red as the stage curtains. Lovino cursed from his left as Antonio leaned forward from beside Francis and started waving happily to the infuriated and annoyed Italian.

"Stop waving, you bastard! And don't look at me with that face! You look like a fucking child! Oh wait, a child looks more like an adult than you do!" Lovino was immediately shushed by Miss Pangaea, who stood on the stage with a smile on her face, peering at Lovino through the corner of her eye and shaking her head discreetly at him.

"Good evening, everyone," she said cordially. Matthew didn't dare look over at Francis, who he guessed was whispering to Antonio. "Tonight, we'd like to welcome our special guest, Mr. Fulton, who represents Juilliard. A few of our students, if qualified, may be walking out of Hetalia Academy with a scholarship to Juilliard from Mr. Fulton or another representative of Juilliard by the end of the year. Let's wish them luck, and let me present our Hetalia Academy Orchestra!"

The audience clapped, Matthew included, as the orchestra started filing onto the stage. Roderich was sitting in first chair, and Matthew knew that the Austrian was immensely proud of the fact. He was also proud of the fact that he had a solo piece by himself, and also a duet with a cellist. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Apparently, Lovino thought something bad was going to happen too, because he gave Matthew a quick, nervous glance before Roderich stood up to play the concert A for the orchestra to start tuning.

Sorry for the abrupt ending! This will be continued next chapter, and hopefully the next chapter will be up by this Friday, if not earlier. I don't have time to work on the chapter tomorrow or Tuesday because I'm going to Boston, so that leaves me a few days when I get back to start writing. Also, ah… the feeling of being first chair. I've been there before, and it's amazing. Roderich and I both felt immensely proud. Also, anyone guessing where Gilbert is? ;) And what's gonna happen? Is Gilbert maybe-somehow-in some way involved? Wow, I'm probably totally giving it away! ;) But then again, you don't know what I'm planning, but don't get your hopes too high, I don't want anybody to be disappointed if it's anticlimactic! And, one more thing: Who likes the zoo? ;D Foreshadowing for future chapters, perhaps? Hmmm…. Wow, I'm so mysterious! Not really, but we'll go with it! I'm really rambling this time, sorry about that! Please review!

By the way, if Francis, Roderich, Lovino, Feliciano and or anybody else was OOC, sorry!