[fic] You're Not an Excuse; You're a Reason | CH 01/??
Title: You're Not an Excuse; You're a Reason | CH. 1
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: US/UK; a few minor pairings
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance; Fluff; Hopefully Comedy
Word Count: 2,996
Warning: Rating WILL go up.
Notes: What was originally something small for sillyputtie became. Much larger. :| ALSO. Reworked from my Sweethearts' Week oneshot, Journalists Have Feelings, Too.
Story Summary: Arthur Kirkland is dying for a big story just to prove he can do it. When the newest and hottest (in more ways than one) movie star, Alfred F. Jones, falls into his lap? He can barely begin to thank his lucky stars.
Chapter Summary: Arthur is tired of the monotony at work and Alfred subconsciously wishes for a normal day. Fate twists their days but neither are very sure it's what they wanted.
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2
Other Links: FF.net
☽✩☾
Chapter 01: Of Work and Its Difficulties
--
"With all due respect, Sir, I believe I have the ability to cover a larger story."
Arthur sat in his boss's office, discussing the Ice Festival that would be present in the next four months. It was a local thing, as far as he understood it, and his boss-Romulus Vargas, editor of the local paper-wanted him to cover it. It wasn't that Arthur wanted a big story for fame or recognition. It was that he'd paid for a decent education and had the skills to prove his capability. Stuck writing silly current events articles for the locals? Not what he'd had in mind when he received his degree.
Arthur Kirkland was a 23 year old graduate from the school of journalism at the Medway branch of Kent University in England. None of that seemed to matter after he'd come to America. No one seemed to care about the degree he held or that he spoke English better than the lot he was surrounded by. No one cared that he was far superior in intellect. No one cared that he had found himself with almost nothing to his name on this giant hunk of a God-forsaken peninsula.
"It is a large story! Thousands of people come to see the sculptures each year!" he announced. There was a smile on his face. "The sculptures can be so cute, or range to breathtaking works of art as if straight from the Renaissance! Why, my two grandsons are doing a piece this year! Ahh, what little artists…!"
Arthur had always suspected something was a little odd about his boss-apart from the fact that he looked so young yet had two grandsons old enough to run some of the Italian restaurants in the area. He'd rather not venture into that part of his boss's personal life. Granted, he'd rather not venture into his boss's office, even, if he could avoid it. Not that it was in any way repulsive, it was actually quite nice. He'd just rather be at his apartment working on a larger article.
He sighed. "Yes, Sir."
But there was a perk to being called to the office for a discussion and accommodating his boss' orders and that was materialized in the form of free meals at his boss' grandsons' restaurants. (This was a very good thing in the way of avoiding the local fire department. Again.) Moments later, Arthur was dismissed and he only somewhat gladly took his leave. When he exited the building, he snitched one of the more county-based papers from the secretary's desk after his eyes caught one of the articles' headlines.
Movie to be Shot in Downtown Area
He skimmed the small body of the article as he left the building only to find that it was week-old news that he'd already discussed with his boss. Arthur had insisted that he could write a giant piece on it; he could interview the local businesses and ask what kind of effect having a movie shot right in front of their store (with a few big-name actors) would have on their business. Unfortunately, Mr. Vargas had not seen it in that light at all, not thinking that the event would actually a.) happen or b.) matter that much. If anything, the man would probably have Arthur writing about the next big cook-off or the new, sexy model-like secretary working down the street.
None of this was worth his time. If he could just get a larger assignment…!
He slammed the paper into the nearest rubbish bin and stomped his way down the path. Just beyond the small intersection, he saw a herd of girls gathering around the chocolate shop. Arthur didn't waste time trying to think of what was going on and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know when he opened the door to Ristorante Romano as the girls gave off a rather frightening squeal of delight. He shook his head.
Maybe he could get a beer with his food; if he was going to have a headache, he would have damned well earned it on his own.
It was a slightly-pleasing sight to see that the booth he normally took was free. He made a beeline for it, hanging his coat on the small hanger next to the seat. He was rather unsure of what to order-besides something with a high alcohol content-though most of the dishes were either noodles or pizza. Settling himself in his seat, he didn't have long to wait before he was attended to.
"Mr. Kirkland, here again," the waitress commented. She had a nervous tick in her eye whenever she spotted him. He was often in here, thanks to his boss's charity, but the owner of the restaurant wasn't so taken with his grandfather's idea of free meals. It wasn't for the waitress's misfortune of having to listen to her boss, Lovino, that he allowed a smug grin to grace his face, but rather the displeasure he could work out of said boss.
"That I am. I'll just be having an ale and spaghetti with meatballs."
"We have Bud Light and some wines…. Not ale. The pub down the street will have some, though…."
Ugh, Americans. Couldn't Lovino carry something better? He just wasn't in the mood for wine, or shoddy American beer.
"Tea, then, and don't ever suggest I enter that pub; it's an Irish pub."
"Yes, sir. I'll be right back…."
Arthur sighed, staring out of the window.
So much for getting drunk.
--
Normally, Alfred would have no qualms whatsoever with the current behavior of these females.
Today was not a normal day.
Not to say that he was having an off-day but it would have been totally awesome to actually look about the quaint area. Besides, the chocolatier he was being served by didn't seem very pleased with the presence of the girls just outside his shop. Rather, he appeared ready to shoot someone. (Likely Alfred.) Kiku, his best friend and assistant, was guarding the door and trying his best to appease the small estrogen-powered mob.
"Will that be all?"
Alfred's eyes went to the chocolates on display in the glass-covered cabinets before him and then to the several boxes that had already been stacked, ready for him to pay for.
"Yep, that's all!" he said after a moment.
"One hundred 19 dollars and 35 cents."
Alfred whipped out his pocket book, handing over a credit card. His eyes swiftly shot for a brief moment to the girls outside waiting for him then back to the short man as he handed his card back.
"Say…. You got a special way outta here? If ya know what I mean." His thumb jerked towards the scene outside.
The chocolatier sighed. "Lili!" he called. Alfred's blue eyes traveled to his right, where he heard a door open. A young girl, probably no older than 12, stepped out. She looked to the chocolatier.
"Yes, Big Brother?"
The 'big brother' jerked his head towards Alfred. (How rude.) "Take him out the back way."
The girl's, Lili's, eyes finally met with Alfred's and a light blush dusted her cheeks. Man, if that was all he got, compared to the near-foaming women outside the shop, he wasn't going to complain. He offered her a wide, toothy grin and a wave.
"Heya!" he greeted.
"H-hello…" she replied, shyly.
Grinning, Alfred turned back to the man behind the counter. "Kiku'll come in and grab these once I'm gone." He turned to Lili. "So, Miss. Where to?"
Lili bowed her head down trying to hide her coloring face, which Alfred found pretty cute. "Th-this way," she said, pointing to the door she'd come from. Quickly she turned and went back. With a smile goodbye to Lili's big brother, Alfred followed and he didn't miss the strangled screams of the horde outside the shop. Poor Kiku….
But he had no time to bother with that! He quickly caught up to Lili, turning the corner with her then up a flight of stairs, down the hall, and finally to a door that led … to a balcony?
"Take the ladder-" She pointed down to a rather unsafe and rust-colored looking object. He assumed it was the ladder. "-And then walk that way." Her arm shifted so she was pointing out where they were looking, the back of the chocolate shop. The ladder would lead him to a small alleyway between two lines of buildings which every so often allowed exit to the main paths and streets. "When you get to the other candy shop, leave the alley and sneak behind the pub. There's a back-door entrance to one of the Italian restaurants and you can enter it easily and slip out."
"Awesome!" Despite Alfred's current objective, he had to admit. This was kind of stealthy, like a James Bond movie, or something; trying to escape the bad guys. Even if they were, more or less, raving women.
He supposed that it was a given when one was the newest, biggest, hottest, awesomest star ever and yes: Awesomest was so a word, no matter what Microsoft Office said.
"Thanks a ton!" he said with a quick salute and he managed to catch a quick grin from Lili as he jumped down the ladder.
The directions weren't that difficult but it was made even less so with his self-composed Super Cool Escape Theme, dutting and dumming along. He had to resist going into the candy store and sneaking around the pub was just a gigantic smell-fest. He had to be grateful, though, that the Italian restaurant was just a few more shops down in the large strip-mall. The sweet aroma grew and hey, maybe he'd actually get something to eat. He was rather hungry, and his only nourishment-his chocolate-was with Kiku. He had his card on him; it wouldn't be much of a bother.
He approached a door that read Ristorante Romano. That was Italian, right? The smell of sauce grew exponentially when he opened the door; it had to be it. He walked forward, passing a few customers awaiting their pastas and pizzas at the desk for take-out, and entered the main restaurant. Ahead, he saw the front exit, leading to the rest of the downtown area. Relief spread through him and he picked up his pace with a bright smile.
Then it came crashing down.
While only half-way past a booth, Alfred caught the Feral Femme Fatale passing by, as if sniffing him out. He dove quickly into the unoccupied seat of the booth, cramming himself as far into the corner as he could. He peeked through the booth's seat's design, watching as the women left. So caught up was he that he didn't hear the incessant bouts of, "Excuse me!" until the women were out of sight.
"If you don't mind, go find your own seat and get well out of mine!"
With a quick, "Huh?" Alfred turned around, sitting properly in the seat now. He'd only vaguely recognized that someone else had already taken the table, but now he could get a proper look. He stared at the man scowling before him, arms crossed defiantly. His eyes were a rather striking green and Alfred had to wonder if the man had ever come across a comb in the last three months. Then….
"Bro," he snickered. "You got some wicked-ass eyebrows."
Something in the man's eyes flashed before he opened his mouth to yell something obscene. Alfred could tell that this wouldn't be pretty-certainly amusing, however-but he was spared the gore with the arrival of another rather angry-looking fellow.
"Just how many times are you gonna try and kick me out of business, huh?!"
The new man was dressed nicely beneath his apron, a towel over his shoulder. His hair was a deep auburn with the funniest little curl popping up. (Granted he had his own defiant cowlick right where he parted his own hair but that had helped him out on his Way to Fame.) He was probably the owner.
"I can't just keep giving you free meals and there's no way your friend here is gonna apply to that!"
"I have no idea who this bastard is!" the eyebrowed-man explained, pointing at Alfred. Alfred blinked at the finger for a moment before smiling wide at the Italian-sounding man. (Well, it would make sense, right?)
"I dunno him!" he announced. "I was on a mission!"
Words had died half-way through on the other men's tongues.
"Mission?" The man had a way-awesome accent. His eyes rolled to the ceiling and he muttered something about tea.
"Yeah! A mission!" Alfred repeated. "I'm being hunted."
Again the other two remained silent for a moment (he knew it was just because of his presence-it could be intimidating to be around someone so handsome and famous, after all) but the standing man shook his head.
"This is the last free meal, Kirkland!" he said. "But just you! Not Mr. Dust-for-Brains over here!"
"I don't even want him across from me! I don't even know him!"
Alfred's grin was still in place. "I'll have a coke!" he called out, grabbing a menu. He was hungry, now that he remembered. Maybe they had burgers….
"Get out of my seat!"
Oh yeah. He glanced up. "Hey! You're British, right? That's a British accent?" Of all the accents he'd heard, British ones were his favorite.
The man didn't seem quite as amused. "I'm English, and I have an English accent, you ignoramus! What the hell are you doing, taking over my seat?!"
"I told you! I'm being hunted!" He skimmed through the menu, his eyes scouring for something a little more American and close-to-home. "I gotta hide!"
"From whom are you hiding, precisely?"
Alfred folded the menu and stuffed it with the rest of the menus at the wall-side of the booth. "Some girls. They're acting really weird today."
Something akin to familiarity snapped through the other man's eyes and he narrowed his gaze at Alfred. It would have been much more wary if not for the giant mass of eyebrow on his face.
"Hey, are these real?!" Alfred suddenly asked. He reached forward and poked one of the eyebrows. It was a moment or two before the other could react, swatting Alfred's hand away.
"Would you please practice some form of decorum!" he demanded more than asked. "You can start by leaving this table and sitting elsewhere, leaving me alone!" His arms were crossed again and he was glaring. This time Alfred wasn't distracted by the eyebrows so much as he was the intensity behind the man's glare.
Alfred stared right back, his own stare more inquisitive and interested than upset and defensive.
"You're a pretty grouchy old man, you know that?"
The other sputtered in indignation. "I beg your pardon! You Americans are all the same! Rude, ignorant, arrogant, self-righteous, selfish-"
"Your tea and coke, Sirs."
The British man was cut off and he gave a despairing sigh as Alfred thanked the waitress and sipped happily at his beverage. "Thanks! Can I get some pizza? Just pepperoni."
The waitress nodded and was off after placing the tea down. After another sip of his drink, Alfred smiled up at the other man.
"You got a name, or what?"
Now he was pouting. It was kinda cute on him. "I do," he said. "I'm not so sure I wish to let you know."
Alfred set his drink down, folding his fingers on the table. A small show of authority might help some. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." He offered up The Look. The one that always got him everything he wanted. The one where he got just the right sparkle in his eyes, and the gleam of his teeth. The one people thought only Tom Cruise could pull off.
Unfortunately: English people, it appeared, seemed rather immune to The Look. Something twitched in the corner of his eye, and he scoffed.
"You're kidding, right?"
Alfred felt something deflate but something much worse than that appeared reflected in the mirrors in the back of the room.
The women had sniffed him out.
If not for Alfred's immense love of all drinks carbonated, he would have found his soda pooled all over the table as his hand flew to pick up a menu. "Don't tell 'em I'm here!" he hissed quickly before ducking below the laminated paper. "I'll pay for your meal and shoot you a few hundred bucks if you tell them I'm not here."
For a moment, Alfred thought that maybe his heart was beating just that loud, but the other man's voice finally reached him.
"Just who are you that you're cowering like this from a few women?"
Alfred carefully slinked to the edge of the booth and snatched the coat hanging up. There was some more sputtering but Alfred plead with him to hush up as the women entered the restaurant. He threw the coat over his huddled form-thank God for trench coats-and drew his legs up as best he could. It was a shame he couldn't fit under the table like he could when he was a kid….
Eyes clenched shut, Alfred listened as the women stepped in and peered around. He could have sworn that a few stopped right at the booth he was in but the other dude's eyebrows must have scared them off because he heard a moment later, "All clear."
Alfred popped out only to be met with a critical stare. He offered up a meek grin in return.
"I'm Arthur Kirkland."
"Can I call ya Artie?"
"Positively not. Who are you?"
Alfred sat up straight (well, straighter than usual, anyway), fixing Arthur Kirkland's coat back on its hanger.
"I," he began dramatically with a flourish reserved only for the most important of instances. "Am none other than the newest, hottest movie star, Alfred F. Jones."
--END CH. 1--
I've got a bunch of other things to be writing right now for charity auctions but please let me know if you enjoyed this! I really like what I've got planned so I hope you'll stick around. :]
Just for fun, I'm basing this on the downtown area of my own hometown of Plymouth, MI, and this is all legit! (Save for names of shops and restaurants.) Downtown Plymouth is really old-fashioned in appearance, and cute, with old shops, homes, an old one-screen cinema, and newer shops and restaurants. Lovino's restaurant 'exists' under a different name, as does 'the chocolatier's' shop. :] ALSO, LEGIT: Parts of Sceam 4 were shot there, too! I have pictures of the set pieces!
If you can, try to help out Japan! They're kind of in a realllly tough spot right now and need all the help they can get. I'm doing what I can by offering up Hetalia fic for (at least) $5.00 USD to the top two bids. It'll be at least 4,000 words (longer than this chapter) and I'll do my best for you! Please help out in any way you can!
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: US/UK; a few minor pairings
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance; Fluff; Hopefully Comedy
Word Count: 2,996
Warning: Rating WILL go up.
Notes: What was originally something small for sillyputtie became. Much larger. :| ALSO. Reworked from my Sweethearts' Week oneshot, Journalists Have Feelings, Too.
Story Summary: Arthur Kirkland is dying for a big story just to prove he can do it. When the newest and hottest (in more ways than one) movie star, Alfred F. Jones, falls into his lap? He can barely begin to thank his lucky stars.
Chapter Summary: Arthur is tired of the monotony at work and Alfred subconsciously wishes for a normal day. Fate twists their days but neither are very sure it's what they wanted.
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2
Other Links: FF.net
☽✩☾
Chapter 01: Of Work and Its Difficulties
--
"With all due respect, Sir, I believe I have the ability to cover a larger story."
Arthur sat in his boss's office, discussing the Ice Festival that would be present in the next four months. It was a local thing, as far as he understood it, and his boss-Romulus Vargas, editor of the local paper-wanted him to cover it. It wasn't that Arthur wanted a big story for fame or recognition. It was that he'd paid for a decent education and had the skills to prove his capability. Stuck writing silly current events articles for the locals? Not what he'd had in mind when he received his degree.
Arthur Kirkland was a 23 year old graduate from the school of journalism at the Medway branch of Kent University in England. None of that seemed to matter after he'd come to America. No one seemed to care about the degree he held or that he spoke English better than the lot he was surrounded by. No one cared that he was far superior in intellect. No one cared that he had found himself with almost nothing to his name on this giant hunk of a God-forsaken peninsula.
"It is a large story! Thousands of people come to see the sculptures each year!" he announced. There was a smile on his face. "The sculptures can be so cute, or range to breathtaking works of art as if straight from the Renaissance! Why, my two grandsons are doing a piece this year! Ahh, what little artists…!"
Arthur had always suspected something was a little odd about his boss-apart from the fact that he looked so young yet had two grandsons old enough to run some of the Italian restaurants in the area. He'd rather not venture into that part of his boss's personal life. Granted, he'd rather not venture into his boss's office, even, if he could avoid it. Not that it was in any way repulsive, it was actually quite nice. He'd just rather be at his apartment working on a larger article.
He sighed. "Yes, Sir."
But there was a perk to being called to the office for a discussion and accommodating his boss' orders and that was materialized in the form of free meals at his boss' grandsons' restaurants. (This was a very good thing in the way of avoiding the local fire department. Again.) Moments later, Arthur was dismissed and he only somewhat gladly took his leave. When he exited the building, he snitched one of the more county-based papers from the secretary's desk after his eyes caught one of the articles' headlines.
Movie to be Shot in Downtown Area
He skimmed the small body of the article as he left the building only to find that it was week-old news that he'd already discussed with his boss. Arthur had insisted that he could write a giant piece on it; he could interview the local businesses and ask what kind of effect having a movie shot right in front of their store (with a few big-name actors) would have on their business. Unfortunately, Mr. Vargas had not seen it in that light at all, not thinking that the event would actually a.) happen or b.) matter that much. If anything, the man would probably have Arthur writing about the next big cook-off or the new, sexy model-like secretary working down the street.
None of this was worth his time. If he could just get a larger assignment…!
He slammed the paper into the nearest rubbish bin and stomped his way down the path. Just beyond the small intersection, he saw a herd of girls gathering around the chocolate shop. Arthur didn't waste time trying to think of what was going on and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know when he opened the door to Ristorante Romano as the girls gave off a rather frightening squeal of delight. He shook his head.
Maybe he could get a beer with his food; if he was going to have a headache, he would have damned well earned it on his own.
It was a slightly-pleasing sight to see that the booth he normally took was free. He made a beeline for it, hanging his coat on the small hanger next to the seat. He was rather unsure of what to order-besides something with a high alcohol content-though most of the dishes were either noodles or pizza. Settling himself in his seat, he didn't have long to wait before he was attended to.
"Mr. Kirkland, here again," the waitress commented. She had a nervous tick in her eye whenever she spotted him. He was often in here, thanks to his boss's charity, but the owner of the restaurant wasn't so taken with his grandfather's idea of free meals. It wasn't for the waitress's misfortune of having to listen to her boss, Lovino, that he allowed a smug grin to grace his face, but rather the displeasure he could work out of said boss.
"That I am. I'll just be having an ale and spaghetti with meatballs."
"We have Bud Light and some wines…. Not ale. The pub down the street will have some, though…."
Ugh, Americans. Couldn't Lovino carry something better? He just wasn't in the mood for wine, or shoddy American beer.
"Tea, then, and don't ever suggest I enter that pub; it's an Irish pub."
"Yes, sir. I'll be right back…."
Arthur sighed, staring out of the window.
So much for getting drunk.
--
Normally, Alfred would have no qualms whatsoever with the current behavior of these females.
Today was not a normal day.
Not to say that he was having an off-day but it would have been totally awesome to actually look about the quaint area. Besides, the chocolatier he was being served by didn't seem very pleased with the presence of the girls just outside his shop. Rather, he appeared ready to shoot someone. (Likely Alfred.) Kiku, his best friend and assistant, was guarding the door and trying his best to appease the small estrogen-powered mob.
"Will that be all?"
Alfred's eyes went to the chocolates on display in the glass-covered cabinets before him and then to the several boxes that had already been stacked, ready for him to pay for.
"Yep, that's all!" he said after a moment.
"One hundred 19 dollars and 35 cents."
Alfred whipped out his pocket book, handing over a credit card. His eyes swiftly shot for a brief moment to the girls outside waiting for him then back to the short man as he handed his card back.
"Say…. You got a special way outta here? If ya know what I mean." His thumb jerked towards the scene outside.
The chocolatier sighed. "Lili!" he called. Alfred's blue eyes traveled to his right, where he heard a door open. A young girl, probably no older than 12, stepped out. She looked to the chocolatier.
"Yes, Big Brother?"
The 'big brother' jerked his head towards Alfred. (How rude.) "Take him out the back way."
The girl's, Lili's, eyes finally met with Alfred's and a light blush dusted her cheeks. Man, if that was all he got, compared to the near-foaming women outside the shop, he wasn't going to complain. He offered her a wide, toothy grin and a wave.
"Heya!" he greeted.
"H-hello…" she replied, shyly.
Grinning, Alfred turned back to the man behind the counter. "Kiku'll come in and grab these once I'm gone." He turned to Lili. "So, Miss. Where to?"
Lili bowed her head down trying to hide her coloring face, which Alfred found pretty cute. "Th-this way," she said, pointing to the door she'd come from. Quickly she turned and went back. With a smile goodbye to Lili's big brother, Alfred followed and he didn't miss the strangled screams of the horde outside the shop. Poor Kiku….
But he had no time to bother with that! He quickly caught up to Lili, turning the corner with her then up a flight of stairs, down the hall, and finally to a door that led … to a balcony?
"Take the ladder-" She pointed down to a rather unsafe and rust-colored looking object. He assumed it was the ladder. "-And then walk that way." Her arm shifted so she was pointing out where they were looking, the back of the chocolate shop. The ladder would lead him to a small alleyway between two lines of buildings which every so often allowed exit to the main paths and streets. "When you get to the other candy shop, leave the alley and sneak behind the pub. There's a back-door entrance to one of the Italian restaurants and you can enter it easily and slip out."
"Awesome!" Despite Alfred's current objective, he had to admit. This was kind of stealthy, like a James Bond movie, or something; trying to escape the bad guys. Even if they were, more or less, raving women.
He supposed that it was a given when one was the newest, biggest, hottest, awesomest star ever and yes: Awesomest was so a word, no matter what Microsoft Office said.
"Thanks a ton!" he said with a quick salute and he managed to catch a quick grin from Lili as he jumped down the ladder.
The directions weren't that difficult but it was made even less so with his self-composed Super Cool Escape Theme, dutting and dumming along. He had to resist going into the candy store and sneaking around the pub was just a gigantic smell-fest. He had to be grateful, though, that the Italian restaurant was just a few more shops down in the large strip-mall. The sweet aroma grew and hey, maybe he'd actually get something to eat. He was rather hungry, and his only nourishment-his chocolate-was with Kiku. He had his card on him; it wouldn't be much of a bother.
He approached a door that read Ristorante Romano. That was Italian, right? The smell of sauce grew exponentially when he opened the door; it had to be it. He walked forward, passing a few customers awaiting their pastas and pizzas at the desk for take-out, and entered the main restaurant. Ahead, he saw the front exit, leading to the rest of the downtown area. Relief spread through him and he picked up his pace with a bright smile.
Then it came crashing down.
While only half-way past a booth, Alfred caught the Feral Femme Fatale passing by, as if sniffing him out. He dove quickly into the unoccupied seat of the booth, cramming himself as far into the corner as he could. He peeked through the booth's seat's design, watching as the women left. So caught up was he that he didn't hear the incessant bouts of, "Excuse me!" until the women were out of sight.
"If you don't mind, go find your own seat and get well out of mine!"
With a quick, "Huh?" Alfred turned around, sitting properly in the seat now. He'd only vaguely recognized that someone else had already taken the table, but now he could get a proper look. He stared at the man scowling before him, arms crossed defiantly. His eyes were a rather striking green and Alfred had to wonder if the man had ever come across a comb in the last three months. Then….
"Bro," he snickered. "You got some wicked-ass eyebrows."
Something in the man's eyes flashed before he opened his mouth to yell something obscene. Alfred could tell that this wouldn't be pretty-certainly amusing, however-but he was spared the gore with the arrival of another rather angry-looking fellow.
"Just how many times are you gonna try and kick me out of business, huh?!"
The new man was dressed nicely beneath his apron, a towel over his shoulder. His hair was a deep auburn with the funniest little curl popping up. (Granted he had his own defiant cowlick right where he parted his own hair but that had helped him out on his Way to Fame.) He was probably the owner.
"I can't just keep giving you free meals and there's no way your friend here is gonna apply to that!"
"I have no idea who this bastard is!" the eyebrowed-man explained, pointing at Alfred. Alfred blinked at the finger for a moment before smiling wide at the Italian-sounding man. (Well, it would make sense, right?)
"I dunno him!" he announced. "I was on a mission!"
Words had died half-way through on the other men's tongues.
"Mission?" The man had a way-awesome accent. His eyes rolled to the ceiling and he muttered something about tea.
"Yeah! A mission!" Alfred repeated. "I'm being hunted."
Again the other two remained silent for a moment (he knew it was just because of his presence-it could be intimidating to be around someone so handsome and famous, after all) but the standing man shook his head.
"This is the last free meal, Kirkland!" he said. "But just you! Not Mr. Dust-for-Brains over here!"
"I don't even want him across from me! I don't even know him!"
Alfred's grin was still in place. "I'll have a coke!" he called out, grabbing a menu. He was hungry, now that he remembered. Maybe they had burgers….
"Get out of my seat!"
Oh yeah. He glanced up. "Hey! You're British, right? That's a British accent?" Of all the accents he'd heard, British ones were his favorite.
The man didn't seem quite as amused. "I'm English, and I have an English accent, you ignoramus! What the hell are you doing, taking over my seat?!"
"I told you! I'm being hunted!" He skimmed through the menu, his eyes scouring for something a little more American and close-to-home. "I gotta hide!"
"From whom are you hiding, precisely?"
Alfred folded the menu and stuffed it with the rest of the menus at the wall-side of the booth. "Some girls. They're acting really weird today."
Something akin to familiarity snapped through the other man's eyes and he narrowed his gaze at Alfred. It would have been much more wary if not for the giant mass of eyebrow on his face.
"Hey, are these real?!" Alfred suddenly asked. He reached forward and poked one of the eyebrows. It was a moment or two before the other could react, swatting Alfred's hand away.
"Would you please practice some form of decorum!" he demanded more than asked. "You can start by leaving this table and sitting elsewhere, leaving me alone!" His arms were crossed again and he was glaring. This time Alfred wasn't distracted by the eyebrows so much as he was the intensity behind the man's glare.
Alfred stared right back, his own stare more inquisitive and interested than upset and defensive.
"You're a pretty grouchy old man, you know that?"
The other sputtered in indignation. "I beg your pardon! You Americans are all the same! Rude, ignorant, arrogant, self-righteous, selfish-"
"Your tea and coke, Sirs."
The British man was cut off and he gave a despairing sigh as Alfred thanked the waitress and sipped happily at his beverage. "Thanks! Can I get some pizza? Just pepperoni."
The waitress nodded and was off after placing the tea down. After another sip of his drink, Alfred smiled up at the other man.
"You got a name, or what?"
Now he was pouting. It was kinda cute on him. "I do," he said. "I'm not so sure I wish to let you know."
Alfred set his drink down, folding his fingers on the table. A small show of authority might help some. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." He offered up The Look. The one that always got him everything he wanted. The one where he got just the right sparkle in his eyes, and the gleam of his teeth. The one people thought only Tom Cruise could pull off.
Unfortunately: English people, it appeared, seemed rather immune to The Look. Something twitched in the corner of his eye, and he scoffed.
"You're kidding, right?"
Alfred felt something deflate but something much worse than that appeared reflected in the mirrors in the back of the room.
The women had sniffed him out.
If not for Alfred's immense love of all drinks carbonated, he would have found his soda pooled all over the table as his hand flew to pick up a menu. "Don't tell 'em I'm here!" he hissed quickly before ducking below the laminated paper. "I'll pay for your meal and shoot you a few hundred bucks if you tell them I'm not here."
For a moment, Alfred thought that maybe his heart was beating just that loud, but the other man's voice finally reached him.
"Just who are you that you're cowering like this from a few women?"
Alfred carefully slinked to the edge of the booth and snatched the coat hanging up. There was some more sputtering but Alfred plead with him to hush up as the women entered the restaurant. He threw the coat over his huddled form-thank God for trench coats-and drew his legs up as best he could. It was a shame he couldn't fit under the table like he could when he was a kid….
Eyes clenched shut, Alfred listened as the women stepped in and peered around. He could have sworn that a few stopped right at the booth he was in but the other dude's eyebrows must have scared them off because he heard a moment later, "All clear."
Alfred popped out only to be met with a critical stare. He offered up a meek grin in return.
"I'm Arthur Kirkland."
"Can I call ya Artie?"
"Positively not. Who are you?"
Alfred sat up straight (well, straighter than usual, anyway), fixing Arthur Kirkland's coat back on its hanger.
"I," he began dramatically with a flourish reserved only for the most important of instances. "Am none other than the newest, hottest movie star, Alfred F. Jones."
--END CH. 1--
I've got a bunch of other things to be writing right now for charity auctions but please let me know if you enjoyed this! I really like what I've got planned so I hope you'll stick around. :]
Just for fun, I'm basing this on the downtown area of my own hometown of Plymouth, MI, and this is all legit! (Save for names of shops and restaurants.) Downtown Plymouth is really old-fashioned in appearance, and cute, with old shops, homes, an old one-screen cinema, and newer shops and restaurants. Lovino's restaurant 'exists' under a different name, as does 'the chocolatier's' shop. :] ALSO, LEGIT: Parts of Sceam 4 were shot there, too! I have pictures of the set pieces!
If you can, try to help out Japan! They're kind of in a realllly tough spot right now and need all the help they can get. I'm doing what I can by offering up Hetalia fic for (at least) $5.00 USD to the top two bids. It'll be at least 4,000 words (longer than this chapter) and I'll do my best for you! Please help out in any way you can!