This chapter is not meant to offend, harm, or insult anyone or anybody. This is made purely for entertainment. Thank you for understanding.

Quick shout out to everyone who leaves stars and comments!! I love reading every single one of them, they make me laugh and smile. And the rest of y'all, I also want to give a shout out to you!! Thanks for reading my silly story ^^

:)

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⚠️ Warning: Language, Guns ⚠️

[2493 words]

[POA's POV]

[A few days after the meeting/Canada's visit]

POA has always been a bold man.

He is a person who isn't afraid to take leaps, to gamble his chances and to take the risks. He has never accepted 'okay', always pushing forward for more.

POA has never settled down. Not when he was five, not when he was thirteen, not when he was twenty, and not now. It's never enough for him. How could it be, when there was a whole world waiting for him out there?

'Reach for the stars,' His mother would tell him as he looked up at her, wide-eyed and tucked snugly into bed.

'More is never enough,' His father would encourage, always a businessman, thinking of the future.

POA was a smart man, and his parents were smart people. So he listened and he learned. He adapted and he grew. He rose the ranks and took and took and took.

It had got him all the way here, so why stop now?

POA was the president of the United States for god's sake!

Such an accomplishment isn't bestowed onto just anyone. Such power isn't bestowed onto just anyone.

Only the best can earn this privilege.

But with power comes fame, and with fame comes hate. POA's peers have had a lot to say about him in these past few months.

Many say he doesn't know what he's doing. Others tell him he doesn't deserve to be the president.

His advisors discourage his plans for war.

His generals advise him of the risks.

America straight up tells him there's no future in this war.

But POA doesn't let their opinions get to him. He never does. Especially when he knows what's he's doing is right.

After all, this war wasn't some dump POA came up with last minute. No, POA has been planning this for years.

Every movement, every step, and every battle was thought out in detail. 'What if's' have been asked more than hundreds of times. POA is ready for anything and everything that gets and will get in his way.

POA wants to (and will) change this world.

This horrible, evil world.

After all, many people knew of it's problems, but POA seemed to be the only person who saw it.

He saw people suffering, starving, and dying. He saw the world plagued by homelessness, hunger, and violence. He saw all the innocents and children who were dying each day.

It hurt POA. It hurt him a lot.

To stop this pain and strife was his dream. The goal he strived for everyday.

If everyone was under one leader, under one ruler, everyone would be the same. No difference in culture, no difference in food, no difference in mindsets! Everyone would be the same, which meant that there would be no reason to disagree or fight.

It would be paradise.

...But to achieve this paradise, of course, POA himself would need to be the world's sole leader. And what better method to use than using the United States to take over the world?

They had a loose grip on the world already anyway.

What's more, if POA had decided to choose any other country to use, the United States would end up being POA's number one problem anyway.

It was hard executing the first steps of his plan, with the amount of connections he had to make and the delicate art of ingraining himself into the ranks, but in the end, POA made it through. He always does.

And he always will.

POA chuckled to himself, interlacing his fingers onto the surface of his desk. It was fun looking back at his past accomplishments, but he had a war to start.

This next week was going to be very exciting.

===

"So, your states... you said they all would be at this place?"

America turned his head slightly towards POA, but kept his gaze on the liquid inside his glass. POA silently hoped it wasn't alcohol. He needed America sober for these next few hours.

"They usually congregate there when something serious happens," America said blankly. He took a small sip out of his drink. "Just trust me on this one."

The private jet POA and America rested in flew swiftly, turbulence non-existent as fluffy clouds milled past peacefully. The scenery was beautiful as well, large expanses of green stretched down below.

Besides the hum of the engines outside, the jet was relatively quiet. POA didn't speak up unless he needed to, and the flight attendants only came in the cabin compartment when called.

America also seemed to be upset about something, but POA couldn't place his finger on what exactly it was. It's not like America talked about nothing any time he could get, but POA could sense his mood all the way from across the jet.

POA searched his mental library for anything America could be upset at him for. He didn't particularly care if America was prone to throwing a tantrum, but he needed the personification in a good mood.

Maybe America was mad at POA for the war?

It wasn't likely. America would tell POA of his displeasure, as he had been for the past few months. POA would know if this was the problem.

Maybe it was about this trip to the states?

POA knew of America's sensitivity with his states, but his states were still massive figures to the American society. They would be frequently seen on television, highlighting the news, or present at huge events and parties. America could be upset at exposing POA to the states all he wants, but it was practically required for the president to meet up with them at some point. So, also a no.

Maybe it was when POA made America move to the White House.

Ah, yes. This one was it.

POA sighed, resting his elbow on the arm of his chair to rub his temples.

A week or two ago, POA had suggested that America should move into the White House.

With war on the horizon and violence underfoot, it would be too dangerous for America to be alone and without any protection. Sure, personifications were more physically tougher than the average human, but an air missile was still an air missile. A bomb was still a bomb. A bullet was still a bullet.

The White House would be the safest option. It was one of the most heavily guarded buildings in the country, geared with the largest amount of arsenal and bodyguards. No one would ever be able to get in, and even if they did, POA and America would already be long gone.

And yet... for some particular reason...

America just couldn't let his apartment go.

It was unreasonable. It was foolish. It was infuriating.

POA was looking at the future, but America was still looking back at the past. POA was moving forward, and America was standing in place.

POA had felt sentimental before, but he had never let it get in the way. At least not like this.

What was so special about that apartment anyway??

===

[New York's POV]

It's been a week and a half.

Ten days and seventeen hours to be exact, but every individual minute has taken off years of New York's life.

The states had never been cooped up in a single place for such a long amount of time, and many had gotten.. antsy, so to speak.

Couches were dropped from the highest floors, doors were blown off with home-made bombs, and drunk states milled around the Estate almost every night. California, Texas, and Florida were the states known for the most alcohol consumption, but without anything (work) or anyone (America) to hold them back, they just seemed to go crazy with it. Taking shots, making bets, they even lured in a few others states into their game!

It was ridiculous. It was messy. But most of all, it was annoying. Once the morning came, New York would be greeted with unconscious states on the floor of the living room and vomiting in the bathroom. The amount of times New York has strangled California, Texas, and Florida for it would be funny if they could even remember it happening.

And that wasn't even mentioning Nevada's gambling ring.

No sooner than the second day here, Nevada's gambling addiction had started acting up. The little shit had pulled out a board of poker, and in no time, states were rushing towards her to place in bets.

Relationships were broken. States were betrayed. Money was lost.

Lots of money.

And that wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part...

...was the guns.

BOOM!

"Tennessee, ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!" Pennsylvania screamed over the ringing gunshot. New York watched tiredly as Pennsylvania stormed across the living room, towards Tennessee and his makeshift gun range.

Yes, you heard that right.

A gun range.

In the middle of the living room.

New York could feel his hair turning gray.

"How many times have we told you— no guns in the house!!" Pennsylvania scowled, grabbing the handgun from Tennessee's grip. Pennsylvania and Tennessee had a push-and-pull fight with the gun for a good thirty seconds, before Penny jabbed Tennessee in the gut, successfully pulling away the handgun.

Tennessee yelped, flinching away. He glared at Pennsylvania, seething, "Hey, that's cheating!"

"It's not cheating if it was never a game." Pennsylvania retorted smugly, flicking the safety on. Using the hand with the gun, she pointed at the sliding door a few feet away. "Go outside and play with Texas! You can shoot to your heart's content out there!"

Tennessee groaned. "But Texas never lets us touch his shit! There's a reason Alabama n' Florida went out to the woods!"

"I just don't want anyone shooting in the house," Pennsylvania sighed, dropping her arm. "How hard is that to ask?! That's the number one rule, and yet no one's following it!"

"It's because it's a stupid rule!" Tennessee said. "There's a dozen of us who want to shoot. This house can only be so large. We're stuffed in here like sardines!!"

"Yeah, and for what??" Idaho, who had been quietly eavesdropping on the conversation, piped up. "We should be out there, doing something. I don't see the point in locking us all in here! The people are confused, and need guidance. Who's better to lead them than us??"

Many of the other states in the room looked at Pennsylvania expectantly. The room had dropped a couple of degrees as bottled up questions were finally being asked.

After the initial meeting, many states had kept the main priority on the low to avoid a mess like that happening again. Including New York.

It was quickly turning out to result in the complete opposite, though.

New York stood up, facing his hands down in a placating motion. "We're all in here for safety." He explained for Pennsylvania. "Being out in the open during such uneasy times could leave some of us vulnerable. We've all seen what scared and angry citizens could do. Any one of us could be victims of hate crimes."

Tennessee scoffed, looking away. "You can't keep us in here forever, New York. I don' know about you, but I'm no coward. I'm gonna show my face no matter what you say."

New York blinked, his expression hardening. He tried to ignore the fact that Tennessee's words hit him hard.

"Why are you being so stubborn??" New York hissed. "We're just trying to look out for you!"

"Look out for us?? You're not looking out for us, you're hiding us away!"

"We're just trying to keep everyone on the low until we get a word from America." Pennsylvania retorted. "We can't be making big decisions without him!"

"Why are you acting like we're children who need America to function??" Tennessee said, upset. "We're a union, for god's sake! We don't need him— he needs us!"

"But we do need him," Pennsylvania said exasperatedly. "America keeps us together! He keeps us all sane! Do you know what it would be like without him?! We would be like Europe! Divided!!"

"Don't you dare compare us to them." Tennessee growled, stepping towards Pennsylvania.

Idaho stood up from the couch as the situation started to escalate.

"I'm not fucking comparing you!" Pennsylvania shouted. She was never one to back down— not to anyone or anything. She pushed the pistol in her hand into Tennessee's chest. "Are you even listening to me?! It's like everything is going through one ear and out the other!"

Tennessee slapped the gun away. "You're fucking insane!!"

New York stormed up to Tennessee and Pennsylvania, shoving the two away from each other. "What the fuck has gotten into you two?! Calm down!"

Tennessee pushed against New York's hand, "She's the one who put a fucking gun to my chest!"

Pennsylvania snarled. "It was on safety!"

"That doesn't change anything!"

New York turned to Pennsylvania. "Give me the gun." He demanded.

Pennsylvania gave over the gun with a huff. She glared at Tennessee, a mocking smile stretching her face. "There. Happy?"

"You little—"

DING!!

Everyone stopped what they were doing.

New York looked around, his hands still hovering over Pennsylvania and Tennessee.  "What was that?"

"That's the doorbell." Idaho whispered in the quiet of the room. "Someone's at the gate."

But who? Who would it be?

The Estate was deep in the forest, miles away from civilization and cut off from anyone and everyone. It was a tight-lipped secret on where it was located, and only the states and a few countries knew of it.

The few countries being Canada and America.

Wait.

America!!

New York moved first, rushing over towards the wall separating the living room and kitchen. He tapped twice on a black screen nailed into the wall, the flat device turning on with a small beep.

It was a camera that showed the gate.

And wouldn't you know it—

America was standing right in front of it.

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A/N:

This chapter was actually started a VERY long time ago, but I didn't finish it until recently. SO MANY REWRITES AND I DONT EVEN KNOW WHY...

Anyways, I want to inform you all that this fic has officially reached two THOUSAND views!!

THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH!!

I really hope you liked this chapter, and I'll see y'all in the next one!! Drink water and take care of yourselves, bye!!

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON DECEMBER 22, 2022

EDITED ON NOVEMBER 7TH, 2024 ✅

November 7th: This chapter and the next one were supposed to be combined, but this one ended up taking me way too long... It's time I start locking in.