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

Dialogue is so hard to write...

It's supposed to give the reader an insight on the characters' personalities and quirks while leading the plot on... and it's just so hard to get right for me, omg TwT

I'm also attempting to add more humor into this fic so it isn't all rain and cloudy skies, but we'll see how it goes. I was never one to be the comedian haha.

:)

=====

⚠️ Warning: Language, Thoughts of Murder (it's only one line) ⚠️

[2957 words]

[New York's POV]

After New York had spotted America on the gate cam, he had sent several runners to gather everyone into the main room. It was a tight fit, but with some people sitting on the floor and others watching from the upstairs loft, all the states managed to congregate nicely.

And now, they waited. Everyone sat in tense, almost nervous, silence, looking at the front doors expectantly. America should be coming through those doors any minute now.

Questions raced through New York's head as he mentally prepared for the upcoming interaction.

This was going to be first time in weeks the states could talk with America, after he basically abandoned them. Cutting them all off, with zero explanation. It was confusing, but it was also scary.

America better have a good explanation.

The doors creaked open, and immediately everyone snapped to attention. Fifty pairs of eyes landed on the man with red stripes and white stars. On the man they've all been longing for— on the man they've all been waiting for.

America.

He was dressed in a simple white button down, black slacks, and black jacket. His black-out shades rested lightly on his nose, completely disguising the man's true expression. He looked... nervous.

But that wasn't really the right word.

America looked like he had been despising this— the complete opposite of excited. It showed in the way his shoulders drooped. In the way he walked a little too slowly towards the front of the crowd he called his own.

But then something else caught New York's eye. Someone.

A tall, thin, middle-aged man was trailing closely behind America. And this guy wasn't a personification. No, not at all.

He was the president of the United States. America was introducing them to the president of the United States.

And New York would know— everyone would. The states followed the election like a drug. Not recognizing POA would be a miracle with how much the election and its candidates were constantly in their heads.

POA was just elected a few months ago. It had been close, but in the end, POA had won over the swing states. Some had been hopeful for all the promises POA had made, while others loathed him for winning.

It was the same thing as every other election, but New York would've never guessed he would've brought in so much trouble!

...Okay.

That was a lie.

POA had always given New York this odd feeling. This feeling of unease— that he was never safe.

POA was dangerous.

And New York didn't think he was jumping to conclusions. Everything that was happening, everything that has built up to this moment, was because of him.

New York made sure to glare hard when POA met his eyes briefly.

It just worked out for New York that he was sitting up at the front.

America cleared his throat, facing the entirety of the room. It was like the personification was under a spotlight, exposed for everyone to see. While America was not unused to the spotlight, the feeling never seemed to grow old. There would always be that electrifying adrenaline pumping through your veins.

"Ladies and gentlemen," America started, if not a bit awkwardly. "I know many of you were not expecting me— or this, today, and I want to apologize for that. I know that I haven't treated you all the best these past few weeks, and I realize the delay in communication I have started. It was never my intention to cut any of you off. It was never my intention to ignore all of your concerns and questions either. If you have felt like— well, shit, because of my actions, know that I am truly sorry. I— uh... I never meant for this to happen."

The states hung onto America's every word, completely silent as they absorbed everything said.

America was apologizing. And by the looks of it, it was genuine.

Murmurs spread throughout the states. Several emotions were passed around.

Relief.

Affection.

Suspicion.

But New York on the other hand— he didn't feel any of these.

He felt... surprised.

It's not everyday you would see America apologizing— let alone publicly apologizing.

But then again, it also wasn't everyday you were on the brink of war with the rest of the world. New York guessed that crossed it out.

America cleared his throat, silently asking for everyone's attention again. "But that's not why I am here. I am here to address the rising tensions— I am here to address the rumors of an upcoming war. I know that many of you are worried. That many of you are concerned, or even scared."

Several scoffs were let out. Scared? Never.

"But that's okay. It's normal to feel these things." America assured. He paused. He took a deep breath. "And that's because we are going to war."

New York blinked.

The room dropped a couple of degrees, almost as if it was holding it's breath.

New York couldn't believe his fucking ears.

They were going... to war?

They were actually going to fucking war??

WHAT??!

The room erupted into chaos.

===
[Nebraska's POV]

The states were losing their goddamn minds.

Everyone had immediately retorted to yelling, angrily shouting over each other in a jumbled mess. A few states who were sitting down stood up, while others stormed out the room.

It was a mess. A huge one.

But occasionally, a well-needed question would break through the chaos.

"Who are we going to war against? Russia? China? Europe?? The whole world???"

"Where is this war coming from?! No one's invading us. No one's attacking any of our allies. No one is even threatening us!"

"This is a horrible idea— what are you thinking?!"

Nebraska was up in the loft, so he had a good view of everything and everyone. Including America and POA. The two seemed a little bit too calm over the states' outburst, if not a bit expectant. They had known that the states were going to react like this. How long have they been planning this? Talking about it behind all of their backs??

Nebraska felt a surge of anger. But deep down, he was also a little scared.

They've all had their taste of war.

Battle after battle, death after death. Thousands of people would die— and for what? A little bit more land? A little bit more victory?

War was hell, and hell was war. It was simple, yet so, so complicated.

America knew this. Surely he couldn't be thirsting for blood that much.

Someone must have read his thoughts because just moments later, a question that made everyone pause was screamed over the racket.

"It's his fault isn't it?! POA's!! You've would've never done this without talking to us!"

POA's neck snapped over to the state who shouted it. The man's expression was calm, eerily calm— but his eyes were sharp like a hawk's.

"Who said that?" He demanded.

The states quieted down. The crowd seemed to part, revealing one of their own in an empty space.

Nebraska's eyes widened, before his lips tugged upwards in a smirk. Of course.

New Jersey.

New Jersey was standing proudly, head tilted high as he returned POA's hard stare. The state had always had a lot of fire in him, buzzing like electricity under a wire. If he wanted to say it, he would say it. It's gotten NJ into a lot of trouble in the past, but he never really stopped.

And personally, that's why Nebraska liked him. New Jersey wasn't a wimp.

"I said that." NJ replied haughtily. He stabbed a finger into POA's direction. "Ever since your presidency, things have been going downhill. The military bases, America's disappearance, and now this!! It wouldn't at all be far-fetched to say you are the sole reason behind it."

There was silence.

Nebraska observed POA as he stepped in front of America, smoothing down the wrinkles in his jacket. The man sighed heavily, before plastering a smile on his face.

America's lips twitched downwards.

"Well aren't you one smart fellow," POA drawled. The man was smirking, but it was obvious that it was painfully forced. He outstretched both of his hands towards NJ, almost as if beckoning the state closer. "You nailed me right on the head! Good job. Does this make you feel proud of yourself? Does this make you feel accomplished?"

Nebraska seethed from where he was standing, leaning forward on the balcony rail. How dare POA talk down to NJ like that.

Nebraska looked at America for a reaction. Surely he would say something about that. A man can't just disrespect your child in front of you and get away with it!! Especially with a man like America.

But America didn't say anything. He didn't do anything either.

He just stayed behind, melting into the background. America was rigid, frozen. From a certain point of view, he even looked... scared.

But not scared in the way you might think, no. He looked scared for New Jersey. For the states. For them.

His eyes kept darting from POA to the crowd, his pupils dilated and his fists clenched. Was America holding himself back? Why?

If America wanted to say something, he could do so with every right. It's not like POA was any more powerful...

At least that's what Nebraska thought. What he saw was an entire different story.

Because for a split second, Nebraska didn't see America.

He saw Thirteen.

Someone who was out of control. Who had no power of his own. Someone who was watching things happen rather than doing it.

Surely...

No.

Nebraska shook his head.

What was he thinking?? America was a independent country— has been for some time now. America wouldn't bow down to some human, even if that human was his boss.

America had control of everything— why would his own life be the exception?

Nebraska sighed.

Colorado has always teased Nebraska about having crazy thoughts. This was probably just one of them.

"Don't patronize me." New Jersey growled, bringing Nebraska back to reality. NJ glared at POA, his eyes ablaze. "Just answer the damn question."

POA chuckled, lowering his head in mock humility. "Fine, I'll admit it. This war was my idea. I came up with it myself and brought it to the table." He said. "But before any of you yell, shout, or scream at me, let me paint you this picture.

Imagine a world of complete unity. A community bound so close together it's only made of love. Here, everyone shares the same beliefs. The same passions. There is no fighting, and there is no war. There is no hardship, and there is no pain. Everyone loves each other, because everyone is each other. No one is different. No one is alone."

"Now at first, this paradise— it seems unreal. Out of reach. Maybe even imposible.

But what if I told you it wasn't? What if I told you that I could make this all a reality?" POA said. A new light appeared in the man's eyes as he continued, a shine glazing over. "What if I told you that we could make this a reality? This paradise, this dreamland, this heaven— we could do it!"

The states listened attentively.

While some of them were still a bit suspicious, almost everyone had left their previous stages of outrage. Many were deep in thought— others were quietly murmuring between themselves.

"But... how?" One state, Texas, asked. The personification was sitting causally on the sofa, arms crossed and hat tipped low. He face was full of emotion. A bit of hope. "This war you're suggesting is supposed to achieve that?"

POA nodded. "Precisely. Once we take over the world, we will have everything under our control. We will have the ability and the authority to change things— for the better. Others have stood back for too long. It's time that we step up."

Nebraska hated to admit it, but POA had a point.

There were problems in this world— big ones. Ones that stared at you right in your face and screamed, 'Fix me!'

But the world was too occupied with each other, with fighting each other, to solve them. Year after year global temperatures would rise. Hunger would spread. Homelessness would increase.

Maybe this war wasn't as crazy as it first sounded.

It's not like America was objecting, either.

Slowly, clapping started to fill the room.

Nebraska didn't know where it started from, but either way, it was spread like wildfire. Nods were passed around. States started cheering. There were even a few whistles that pierced through the air.

Nebraska found himself joining, a bit giddy. The future was going to be a lot different than he imagined— but maybe he wasn't complaining.

Nebraska has always felt that this country was made for something big— something more. Was this it? Was this the reason why they were created? Why they existed in the first place?

POA stood at the front of the crowd, grin stretching his cheeks wide. The man held himself with full confidence.

If POA was so confident about this, maybe Nebraska could be too.

===

[America's POV]

America felt like a mess.

He was tired and hungry and exhausted, but most of all— he was conflicted.

America didn't know whether it was his states or just his own fucked up head, but the clash of feelings boiling inside him was tearing him apart.

America felt energized, but he also felt defeated. He felt hope and excitement and happiness, but he also felt scared, anxious, and full of doubt.

Had he been in the wrong this whole time? Was this war actually a good thing?

America shook his head. 'What— No!'

War was horrible. It was never a good thing. That was simply a fact. Why was he even doubting himself?

'Because the states were all in.' A side of him pointed out. 'From the amount of cheering and screaming, it's almost like they were waiting for this to happen.'

America felt a pang of hurt in his chest. But he also felt angry. How could the states be so foolish?

POA was a horrible person!!

'He just wants to help.'

America thinks back on POA's speech. It never occurred to him the reasons why POA had wanted to go through with this war. America had just always assumed that...

That what?

America doesn't know. Something greedy? Something selfish?

Maybe he had just been trying to villanize POA this whole time. It wouldn't be the first time America did that to someone.

'But what about the apartment?'

America blinked. Oh yeah.

He had never wanted to do that.

Leaving that apartment— it had felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind. The sane part. The part that lived with happiness, that smiled real smiles. And then when Canada caught him in all of it— America just couldn't do it. He couldn't find the strength in him to do it.

Do what?

America fingers twitched. He didn't know.

It turned out he didn't know a lot of things.

America looked down at his hands.

His throat started to close up. It felt like his voice was being taken away from him.

Wait. America felt himself panic momentarily.

Maybe it was. POA was taking his voice away, wasn't he? That's something the man would do. Right? What if America's voice was actually gone— in the literal way? What if it wasn't there anymore? If America opened his mouth, would any sound come out?

America spoke under his breath.

He could hear it— his voice was still there!

America tried not to sigh in relief. He would look insane.

Could you imagine that? The great United States of America, acting insane? He had an image to keep up for god's sake.

At least that he could control.

Everything else, though? It was slipping between his fingers. America has been desperately trying to grab it back, but every time he would think he had it, it would be pulled away.

What was he thinking— he couldn't even control himself! His feelings— these feelings— America was so much more better than this.

Why did he feel so pathetic? So weak? Why wasn't he doing anything?

He could kill POA right on the spot and all his problems would disappear.

Was that crazy? Was America crazy to think that?

Maybe just a little bit. POA was a good person, after all.

America should be on his side.

But he wasn't.

And that's what felt the worst.

=====
A/N:

Voilá!! A quick, but very informing POV from our protagonist, America!! I hope you liked the little surprise lol— I went to town with it and ended up loving it.

And if it seems a bit wack, it's supposed to. America isn't in his right mind and he will probably only get worse as the story progresses. Sorry, America :p

Thanks for reading!! Make sure to take care of yourself! Drink water, eat, bathe/shower, etc...

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON JANUARY 6TH, 2023

EDITED ON NOVEMBER 15TH, 2024 ✅