I don't own Hetalia, America, or England, as characters or nations.

"Hello, this is OnStar, how may I help you?" the kind-sounding woman on the other line asked.

"Er, yes, this is Arthur Kirkland, I'm calling for a Mr. Alfred Jones," Arthur replied to the operator. "You see, we were traveling on an uncharted road to a resort in Duncan, Arizona until Mr. Jones's truck broke down, and now..." he trailed off, scanning the area around him. They were surrounded by barren land, from the dirt road that seemed to stretch in front of and behind them in a perpetual expanse, to the sand landscape on either side of the road spread out like dry golden wings on a brown-bodied butterfly. "...And now, it seems that we are lost with no means of transportation."

"I see, Mr. Kirkland," the OnStar operator said. "Well, I have the coordinates for your location, so now I'll do a bit of a look-up to see if I can send anyone out there, and I'll call you back, okay?"

"That would be very much appreciate, Ms.-?"

The operator chuckled. "Mrs. Elkly."

"Ah, well thank you, Mrs. Elkly, for your help. Oh, and one more thing?"

"Yes, Mr. Kirkland?"

"Do you think you can do a quick research for the closest hotel or some sort of lodging in or near Duncan?"

"I sure can, Mr. Kirkland!" There was a quick pause as the sounds of keyboard taps and mouse clicking became prominent. "Oh, it says here that the nearest thing even close to a rest stop is a Citgo gas station, twelve and a quarter miles due north of your location."

"Thank you so much, again! I'll talk to you later." Arthur flipped his phone close with a click, and sighed. He leaned further back on the outside of the truck's bed, glowering with as much impatience as he can muster from his entire body at the bottom half of a male body unhidden by the truck's bonnet. Alfred Jones bent over the machinery, humming Orange Range's upbeat "Asterisk" to himself as he inspected, cleaned, and repaired the damaged parts to the best of his abilities, which aren't much to speak of.

How in the name of common sense can Alfred be so damn cheery and humming like we're not stuck in the middle of a desert?! Arthur wondered to himself as he crossed his arms. Now that he wasn't talking to the nice OnStar operator, he had no need to keep up with a pleasant attitude anymore, and he could focus all of his disdain on the deserving idiot who got them in this situation in the first place. He shook his head as Alfred happily worked and clicked his tongue in disapproval as a bit of car oil shot out. "Useless git," he muttered to himself.

Alfred straightened up and closed the truck's bonnet. "Well, there are some good news and some bad," he said as he wiped his grime and oil covered hands on his jeans. "Good news: the battery still works. Bad news: no gas, and I think the rest of it is crapped."

"Well, wow, who would've known that your beat-up 1963-model Ford that you bought for a hundred dollars without question would unexpectedly just shut down after years of rough driving?" Arthur said sardonically.

"Dude, I know, right?" Alfred replied. It was only when Arthur rolled his eyes that Alfred caught on in the sarcasm. "H-hey, c'mon, Arthur! Quit being so mean! You know, I heard that a hot temper just makes the desert heat hotter, so your sour attitude isn't helping us none!"

"And where did you get such a stupid idea from?" Arthur said, although at that point he really was feeling hotter than he did ten minutes ago, even when the truck's inside was hotter than the outside. "Anyway, what's so damn great about having a good battery if everything else is broken?"

"Ummmm... we can play the radio and have a little dance party while we wait?"

"And waste the last good equipment? Are you serious? And it's too hot to dance!"

"...We can also turn on the AC."

"The damn thing is broken, too, Alfred, remember?"

Alfred's face went blank as he searched his memory. "...Oh, yeah."

"This is just so fucking ridiculous!" Arthur spat as he kicked at the dust.

Alfred sighed and shook his head, smiling a bit as he walked to Arthur. He stood next to Arthur and slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. He buried his nose into Arthur's hair. "Arthur, babe, just calm down, all right?" He murmured in the messy blonde locks. "We'll get out of here and get to that resort, okay? You called OnStar like I told you to, right?"

Arthur sighed and gently rubbed the arm that was around his shoulder. "Yeah, I did, and the operator, Mrs. Elkly, said she'll call us back to see if she could get us a ride or some form of assistance. Oh, and that there's a Citgo gas station twelve miles north."

Alfred gaped at Arthur with wide eyes, leaning back a bit in shock. "T-twelve miles?! Y-you're joking, dude, right?"

"Alfred, this is hardly the time, place, or situation for joking," Arthur pointed out cooly.

Alfred nodded in agreement; Arthur would rarely joke in what he would consider "a horrible situation"; in fact, Alfred couldn't even remember a joke Arthur made, good situation or bad...

Alfred shook his head to shake off the irrelevant thought (causing Arthur to furrow his bushy eyebrows in confusion at the sudden act) and smiled down at his British lover. "Okay, so if worse comes to worst, we'll head to the gas station and see if we can get some gas. Plus, I think I might need a gallon of coolant and a couple of cold ones." He noticed that Arthur then glared at him in a scolding manner. "What?"

"Alfred, you're not going to drink and drive, you git!" Arthur ordered.

"Ugh, dude, I didn't even mean beer," Alfred groaned with an eye roll. "I meant I want a couple of cans of Coca Cola; I'm seriously thirsty."

"You shouldn't have that, either," Arthur said quickly. When his statement was met with a confused and annoyed pout, he sighed and elaborated, "That soda has caffeine, and caffeine isn't good to have in your system while out in this high temperature." He turned his head away and muttered, "Besides, you're hyper enough as is."

Hearing the last bit of Arthur's comment, Alfred huffed, "Hey, I'm not that hyper, Arthur! Heck, I'm not even hyper; I'm just energetic and optimistic like a puppy!"

"Alfred, there's a huge difference between naturally waking up with a smile on your face and being unable to sleep due to overconsumption of sugar. Guess which one a puppy doesn't do."

"Aw! I don't eat that much sugar!"

"Alfred, eat or drink anymore sugar and you'll have Willy Wonka cowering in his factory in fear of you!"

"Bitch, please; Willy Wonka thanks me for keeping his business running during the hard times!"

"Oh, whatever!" Arthur laughed as he ruffled Alfred's hair. That was when his cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and flipped it open. He pressed the green "Send" button to accept the call and pressed it to his ear, still giggling. "Hello?"

"Mr. Kirkland?"

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Elkly! Do you have any good news?"

"I'm sorry, honey, but I'm afraid that I have some bad news."

Arthur's grin fell. He gently pushed away from Alfred. "...Bad news?"

"Yes, dear. It seemed that there aren't any OnStar emergency ride services happening anywhere near Duncan because your situation isn't an 'emergency' according to our ridiculous policy, and I tried to find some car-towing services, but apparently, Duncan is too small of a town to have any." Mrs. Elkly sighed. "I'm so sorry, dear."

Arthur closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, the hand clutching the cellular device shaking. "I...I see. Well, thank you for your help," his voice strained. "Good bye."

"Good bye, Mr. Kirkland, and again, I'm sorry."

"It's...It's quite alright." Arthur waited for the operator to hang up first. When he heard the click and dial tone, he slowly lowered the phone from his ear and flipped it close. Then, with a furious grunt, he threw his phone to the ground, causing the back cover and battery to fall out. "I can't believe this!" He shouted as he clutched his head and started pacing. "I can't believe this!"

Alfred jumped at Arthur's fit and frowned. "Babe, what's wrong?"

Arthur's head snapped to Alfred's direction. "What's wrong?! What's wrong is that we're stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere and the only hope we had of getting out of this hell hole is gone!"

"...What happened?"

Arthur sighed in frustration and pointed at the pieces of his phone. "That was Mrs. Elkly, Alfred. Apparently, our predicament isn't an emergency to them so they won't send out a ride for us, and since we're in a town with a near-nonexistent population, there aren't any towing services to come and pick up us or this shitty piece of shit!" He kicked the truck's bed before falling back against it and sliding to the ground. He pulled his knees up and buried his face in them.

"So, no one's coming, then?" Alfred asked, lacking words after being surprised at Arthur's fit.

"Oh, no, Alfred, I'm pretty sure that your sweet little alien friend Tony can come zooming in on his 'super kick-ass awesome' spaceship of his if we ask oh-so nicely," Arthur said mockingly. "What the bloody hell do you think?!"

"I think you need to chill out, bro," Alfred replied as he crossed his arms and scowled. "Look, things aren't that bad, okay? Maybe I can fix this truck up to at least keep going a little while longer until we can get to a car shop or something."

"Yes, of course, Alfred, that sounds like such a brilliant idea, considering the fact that I have suggested it for the past couple of years, save for the part where your pathetic 'mechanical skills' comes in."

"Hey! I'm pretty good at fixing cars." He patted the truck. "If I wasn't good at it, then this baby wouldn't be with me for six years and counting, despite the fact that it was basically glued-together parts when I bought it. I think I did pretty good." He puffed out his chest and beamed with pride.

Arthur rolled his eyes and scoffed, "I can't believe that I flew all the way here to America only to be stuck in a desert with a pompous ass."

"I'm not pompous! I'm just trying to say that things aren't as bad as you think they are, and I'm not as useless as you're trying to make me out to be. You just need to calm down so that we both can think of a plan that'll get out of this mess and get to that resort."

"Right, like you have the competency to even think about something that doesn't involve hamburgers and video games, let alone create an intelligent plan even with another person helping you."

"...Where is all of this coming from, Arthur? Why the hell are you mad at me? What did I do?"

Arthur looked up at Alfred with disbelief in his eyes. He then gave a humorless chuckle. "What did you do? What the hell do you mean what did you do?" He waved wildly at his surroundings. "Is the current situation that we're in- which we wouldn't have been if you had listened to me and sold this crap for a better car- not enough to clue you in? Is the fact that you didn't listen to me when I told you to stop to ask for directions or to not take a route that wasn't even on the map not enough? What about in the entire time that I have been with you, you just shot down every single one of my suggestions because they weren't 'cool' enough to meet your standards?"

"That's not true-"

"And don't you dare use that one time where you took me to that opera rendition of 'Romeo and Juliet' that I practically had to beg you to let me attend because I had to bribe you with McDonald burgers and fries afterwards, even when you stayed for only the act's introduction and snuck away when I was too engross in the performance to notice your absence. You didn't even have enough decency to tell me that you were going to leave, just like you didn't have enough decency to let me stay in my home country and practically forced me to fly here with that damn ultimatum you pulled!"

Alfred gaped in indignation and disbelief. "Ultimatum? What ultimatum? I didn't give you an ultimatum!"

"Oh, so I guess this doesn't sound familiar, then." Arthur cleared his throat and mocked Alfred's voice. " 'Yo, Artie, since we're dating and stuff now, I don't know if it's a good idea for you to stay in Britain, dude. I don't like the idea of you in Europe where your ex can get to you without me there to stop him. You can either stay over there and not call me again and hope that he takes you back, or you can come here and stay with me.' " Arthur scoffed. "And I can't believe that I was stupid enough to fall for it. I'd never get that kind of crap from-" He stopped himself before he accidently continued, because talking about him was always a sensitive topic. But he can tell by Alfred's pain-ridden smirk that he was too late.

"Who wouldn't you get this crap from, huh, Arthur?" Alfred sneered. "You wouldn't get this crap from who? That French bastard that would've killed you with all sorts of STDs if I hadn't stepped into your life? That French bastard who would've used your relationship as a tool for his own public image to gain favors from the LGBTQ community for his small business? The same French bastard that treated you like you're acting now: like a bitch? He wouldn't give you this type of crap?"

Arthur closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He regretted bringing Francis up- even by accident- because he knew how much it hurts Alfred when he compares them or bring up how much better it was with the other when Alfred tries his hardest to please him. Now was the time to stay quiet and let the tension and anger die down. But damn would it be nice to show Alfred he wasn't as awesome and perfect as he thought he was, and to get some revenge for being forced to leave his home country.

"No," Arthur said slowly. "I wouldn't get this type of crap from Francis, who would've never slept with anyone else while with me or withhold something important like his HIV status from me; he wouldn't even flirt with other people, or at least not in front of me, like a certain American I know. I wouldn't get this crap from Francis who, instead of uses our relationship to boost his sales, uses his business to promote equality and LGBTQ alliances and make our dating in a homophobic society easier. I wouldn't get this kind of crap from Francis who would not only not force me to come to his home, but would actually move in with me so that I wouldn't have through the long process of getting visas and job transfers in a country with a shitty economy.

"Francis wouldn't always think that his suggestions for places to go or things to do were better than mine and force me to go do things that I don't like all the time. Francis would actually at least consider my feelings and ask instead of just always assuming based on his own feelings and perspective. As an ambitious person, Francis would've tried to solve any problems with maturity and resources like an intelligent being, instead of handling things on his own to try and prove that he's the 'manliest of all men' or scurrying away to hide in the world of video games and comics when he realize that his 'independence' wasn't enough to solve issues. Francis was..." He trailed off.

"...Francis was the perfect boyfriend, yeah, yeah, I get it," Alfred finished for him in a mockingly bored tone as he waved his hand. "Heh, I'm surprised that with such awesome attributes, you haven't crawled back to him yet, or that you left him in the first place."

"You're not the only one," Arthur grumbled.

"So, why haven't you gone crawling back to that French bastard, yet?" Alfred asked sardonically. "Too proud to crawl in the dirt to him like the way you did to me?"

Arthur sighed and looked away. "I...honestly don't know."

Alfred's eyes widened. "Wait a damn second! Are you serious?! You've actually been thinking about going back to him?!"

"...What the hell do you think this whole argument's been about?"

Alfred gaped at Arthur, taken aback by what he just heard. His face slowly scrunched up into a grimace, and he punched the truck, creating a clunk so loud that even the lizards slid into the sand to hide from Alfred's fury. When Alfred retracted his hand, Arthur saw that his punch left a frighteningly deep dent. Alfred yanked a red plastic canteen from the truck's bed.

"You wanna go back to Francis?" Alfred grumbled as he opened the driver's door, took out his bomber jacket, and hung it in the crook of his arm. "Fine, go right ahead! I don't give a fuck!" He slammed the door closed and stormed off.

"Hey, where the hell are you going?!" Arthur shouted as he shot up from his seat by the truck and began following Alfred.

"I'm going to that damn Citgo to get my truck some gas!" Alfred shouted over his shoulder. "That oughtta give ya plenty of time to fawn over your little French boyfriend and think about how things were so much better with him!"

"You can't go alone! Your sense of direction is awful!"

"And you're too much of a prissy weak bitch to handle the long walk in this heat! So just stay there and watch the truck, okay?!"

"I'm coming with you, Al!"

Alfred sharply turned on his heels. "NO! Don't come with me, alright? I don't...I don't want to fucking deal with you or your condescending shit anymore! So just...Just leave me alone!" He turned back around just as sharply and stomped away faster.

"You are such an ass!" Arthur called out to him. When Alfred didn't turn to look at him, deliberately ignoring him, Arthur grunted and kicked the truck's fender. "Fucking idiot!" He watched Alfred's back as he walked further and further away, so far that he became a simple speck of white tee shirt and blue jeans, until not even those colors were distinguishable anymore.

It's been six and a half hours.

Arthur sat in the driver's seat of Alfred's truck, fiddling with his cell phone he put back together before getting inside the truck. Outside the windows, the bright, hot day gave way to the dark, cold night. The sky above him was dotted with clear white stars and golden sand expanse around him became blue under the moon, and Arthur couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of it; to him, it looked like a magnificent painting come to life. It offered the Brit a peace of mind; it was a nice distraction from his worries and it prevented him from going outside in that arctic air and pace or call Alfred's Canadian half-brother, Matthew Williams, again.

"Arthur, you don't have to worry so much, 'kay?" Matthew had reassured him. "He's nice and reasonable and he'll calm down sometime, so don't think about it too much. Now calm down before you have a panic attack and build up my phone bill!"

Arthur smiled to himself at the conversation with Matthew. Even though he knew Alfred would get jealous, he usually calls Matthew regularly to vent or to simply chat, but mostly to hear his soft voice. It was so soothing and kind, like if the world should be thrown into an apocalyptic crash, just going to Matthew and hearing his voice would magically set things right, like he was an angel. Arthur sighed.

I wish Alfred would be more like him...

Since he was given over six hours to mull over his relationship with his boyfriend, Arthur started to wonder why he was with Alfred to begin with, and why they stayed together for so long with their opposite personalities causing them to fight a lot. Besides the charming smile that would make any heart melt, Arthur wondered if there was anything else that kept him close to Alfred. He wasn't saying that he was completely miserable and wanted out-

Wait, was he? Didn't he say that Alfred was always shooting him down and ignoring him and making him feel unimportant compared to Alfred's video games? Didn't he always feel self-conscious whenever Alfred pointed out his bushy eyebrows, scrawny body, and taste in proper clothing? Wasn't it always a struggle to get Alfred to at least say "I love you", let alone get him to do something physically intimate besides sex like hugging or snuggling in bed? Didn't he always feel as if he was stuck raising a child instead of dating an adult?

No, he shouldn't think about it, like Matthew said. He'll just end up overthinking things and making rash decisions. Arthur flipped open his phone and checked the time again on the screen. 9:54 PM. He's been contemplating for six hours and fifty minutes, now. He closed his phone, placed it on his lap, and shivered. Ever since the sun went down, the temperature dropped dramatically. He pulled his jacket tighter around his torso. As his mind wandered back to Alfred, he immediately switched on the radio to drown his thoughts with some form of entertainment, disregarding the truck's weak battery.

"So what we get drunk-?" No, he hated hip-hop.

"And we're back with radio host Rush Limbaugh-" He hated that guy.

"Tener un grifo que gotea? Prueba el nuevo Faboom! sin complicaciones sello-" He didn't understand a word of Spanish.

Just when he was going to give up on the radio- I shouldn't have even turned it on with the battery old and all- he switched on to another station and heard this long, smooth guitar intro. It was soon followed by a steady flow of drum beats. Arthur shrugged and sat back; it wasn't as good as the rock music back in Britain, but it was pretty decent. Then the vocalist came in.

"Pack up. I'm straight. Enough. Oh, say say say, oh, say say say, oh, say say say, oh, say say say, oh, say say say."

Stupid prick always think that he's right all the damn time, Arthur thought. Even with a song filling his ears, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to Alfred. Who the hell does he think he is?

"Wait, they don't love you like I love you. Wait, they don't love you like I love you. Maa-aa-aa-aa-aps. Wait, they don't love you like I love you."

And the way he just bosses people around as if he's the king of the world! What kind of a git is he? And how he always assume that I'm just some helpless arse who needs constant rescuing. No, wait, he's that patronizing towards everyone.

"Made off, don't stray. Well, my kind's your kind. I'll stay the same!"

Ugh, and he just won't ever change, not even just a little to grow up and think things maturely. He just expects everyone else to follow his lead and be like him, otherwise something just has to be wrong with them. He even forced me into moving halfway across the world just so he'd have a personal babysitter! Francis was never liked that!

"Pack up, don't stray. Oh, say say say, oh, say say say!"

Well, I can't say that Alfred has been completely immature. There were rare moments when Alfred grew up and helped me, like that time when he helped me find a job to transfer to when I came to America, albeit he forced me to come here in the first place because he wasn't satisfied with long-distance relationships. And he is so terrible at showing affection! Good grief, you'd think he would simply die if he doesn't stay macho all of the time!

"Wait, they don't love you like I love you. Wait, they don't love you like I love you."

No, I shouldn't say that, either. Even if it takes forever just to get a hug out of him, he still shows love in his own way. Like that time he visited me when I learned of my grandmother's passing dressed as Superman. What did he say? Oh, yeah: "I'm gonna save you from your depression!" Arthur chuckled to himself at the memory. I didn't even bother to tell him about my grandmother because I thought he'd just dismiss my feelings and tell me to man-up, so I told Matthew. Matthew must have told him afterwards...

"Maa-aa-aa-aa-aps. Wait! They don't love you like I love you! Wait! They don't love you like I love you! Maa-aa-aa-aa-aps!"

And even if he's so damn patronizing towards others, he doesn't mean to be. He means well, and he's just trying to "save" people and make them feel better. And yeah, maybe he seems totally unambitious the way he focuses his life on comics and video games, whereas Francis actually has a nice career and uses it to help others, but to say that Alfred doesn't use his life and skills to help others would be a lie. He tries to fix elderly people's cars for free, and he does have that impoverished little kid- Peter, right?- who he hangs out with and teaches him to draw comics and stuff like a big brother. And he gives him his old comics and food and clothing when Peter's family aren't doing so well.

"Wait, they don't love you like I love you..."

And when he plays video games, he does try to include me in it. Granted, we could be doing more stuff that I like to do, but I do have fun with him. And maybe he is too bossy, but he's just getting his opinion out there, and he's sort of a great leader if given the chance. Arthur heaved a shaky sigh as the song went into a guitar solo. His way of affection is so damn ridiculous...!

"Wait, they don't love you like I love you. Wait they don't love you like I love you. Maa-aa-aa-aa-aps ."

But, it's still his way of showing me his love. Because he does love me, otherwise all of those arguments like earlier would've drove him away by now.

"Wait! They don't love you like I love you!"

And...I love him. That's why I'm still with him. That's why I didn't go back to Francis. Because I fucking love that idiot bastard.

"Wait! They don't love you like I love you! Maa-aa-aa-aa-aps! Wait, they don't love you like I love you..."

Just as the guitarist brought the song to an end, Arthur switched the radio off. He picked up his phone and opened it, dialing the number to Alfred's phone. He didn't even realize he was crying until a couple of tears fell on his shaky hand and keypad. He brought the phone to his ear, listening to the ring and wiping his tears and watery snot on his jacket sleeve. He sighed in relief when Alfred picked up.

"What do you want?" Alfred grumbled. He paused when he heard soft sobbing. "...Arthur? Are you okay?"

Stupid git. Arthur laughed inwardly. Even when I've hurt him, he still feels concern for me.

"I'm...I'm fine, Al," Arthur managed to say. He then took a deep breath, but it still wasn't enough to strengthen his voice. "I was just wondering... if you're okay, because... because you were gone for so long, and you left by yourself..."

"Ah ha ha ha, dude! I'm fine, okay? Quit worrying so much, Mom!"

Arthur sniffled and wiped away the still-pouring tears. He chuckled half-heartedly and nodded.

"...Arthur?"

"Just get back."

"But I'm already back!"

"Really?! Where?!" He mentally kicked himself. That sounded more excited than he wanted it to sound, even if he felt ten times more excited than he had let on.

"Babe, chill! I'm just ahead of you in a tow truck with the Citgo's owner. Oh, and he said he can offer us a place to stay for the night, is that cool with you?"

"You're up ahead?"

"Yeah, I can see the truck. You can't see us?"

Arthur looked up pass the steering wheel. Through the dusty windshield, he could make out two headlights coming closer and closer, and he was soon able to see a white tow truck behind those lights. He clambered out of the truck and stood by it, trying and failing to control his sobs and tears. When the tow truck slowed to a park next to Alfred's truck, Arthur ran to the side that he knew Alfred was going to come out of just as Alfred was climbing out and trapped his waist in a crushing hug, letting his sobs flow out without restraint.

"Whoa! A-Arthur!" Alfred gasped. He looked down at the mass of blonde hair as Arthur buried his face in Alfred's chest. He heard sobbing and felt Arthur's body shake. "Arthur, what happened?"

"Mm surmry," came the muffled reply.

"What?"

Arthur looked up at Alfred, gem-green eyes rimmed with red puffiness. He smiled weakly. "I said I'm sorry, Al. I'm sorry for saying those things and being a fool and everything!" He quickly reburied his face in Alfred's chest and sobbed.

Alfred looked down at him in confusion, but then smiled gently and hugged him back. "Aw, it's okay, Artie! Your jerkiness won't change the fact that you're my baby." He cooed teasingly as he ruffled Arthur's hair. He sniggered when Arthur murmured something in his shirt and lightly punched his gut. "...And, uh, I'm sorry, too, Artie...for a lot of things..."

"Ahem," a man coughed. Alfred and Arthur looked up and spotted a middle-aged balding man standing near them, fiddling with the straps of his oil-stained overalls. "If you two don't mind, could you two possibly step aside to make room so I could pull this truck around and start hooking it up to your truck and get it towing? Unless you don't mind making love in a cold desert or something..."

Alfred, still holding Arthur close, guided them both to the far side of the road. He then returned his attention to Arthur. "So, what brought all of this on, anyway?"

Arthur sighed and squeezed Alfred tighter. Too drained and relieved from crying, he simply said, "My Alfred...please stay..."

Alfred gave him another confused gaze but shrugged and kissed Arthur's forehead. "Of course, Artie. Of course."

Ugh! Cheesy romance was indeed cheesy! Anyway, I was listening to "Maps" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs for like the millionth time (if you haven't heard of it, go look it up on YouTube now. If you have heard of it and love it, then let us fawn over this beautiful song together! *dances a ridiculous hippie dance*) when this songfic idea came to me. A part of me is happy that I wrote it, but then I started to feel that I made Arthur a Bella-like Gary Stu (man, I hope not...) and then the cheesy ending...! XP

Well, I guess if you guys like it, then it isn't so bad, right? :D

Oh, and fun fact: Maps is an acronym for "My Angus, Please Stay," Angus being the singer's ex-boyfriend. Isn't it a bit funny? My Angus, Please Stay. My Alfred, Please Stay? (Even funnier, I didn't notice this myself until the second day that I wrote this. XD)

Edit: Yeah, I made some changes from the original post. Not that much, but I guess it's satisfactory and whatever...