Last time in 'Underneath the Mask':
Alfred is on the phone, his face ash stricken, shaking slightly. "Aw, Arthur's interested in Alfred for once-" Vlad's teasing falls flat once he catches sight of the usually cheerful American's face. The blonde ends the call and promptly runs off. "I wonder what that was about."
Arthur pales, "I'm going after him. He- he was crying." He chases after Alfred, concern all over his expression.

~
"Alfred!" Arthur chased after the blonde, shouting. The initial adrenaline had given him some boost but the novelty had soon worn off as lactic acid flowed into his legs and arms, shortening his breath. Unlike the American, Arthur was not on some sports team. No. The Brit loathed sports of any type and was pretty sure sports hated him too. He was rapidly losing sight of Alfred, all his limbs weighing him down and eventually, he had to take a break.

His lungs soon set to work. His breaths were already more frequent but now they were deeper and his body racked at the amount of oxygen his body was trying to consume. "D-dammit-" he mutters, his Caterpillar brows furrowed. He really was a pathetic excuse of a man. Accepting defeat (and finally recovering from actually doing some exercise for once), he decided to head by the music rooms to get a bit of practice in, take his mind off of the situation at hand. Stopping by his locker, his hands settled on his electric guitar.

However, when he reached the music rooms, a familiar tune swept him away, so somewhat hauntingly beautiful. His ears had immediately pricked when he heard the strings being plucked. Joining it now, was a voice, a voice that (despite its usual loudness) captured the melody, a voice that, had it not been muffled with sobs, could have made anyone fall in love with its owner. "Summer- has- come- and passed- the innocent can- never last- wake me up- when September ends-"
To perhaps understand this scene better, please listen to the video below of the song and enjoy.

"Like my father's- come- to- pass- seven years has- gone- so fast- wake me up- when September ends..." The voice trailed off, sobs overcoming it. Arthur by this point had walked up to the door and was watching Alfred F. Jones attempt to sing Green Day through his pain and misery. Arthur slipped his own guitar out of its case, his fingers ready to strum and join in. You may be wondering why on earth he would do this. Why he wouldn't comfort the man in front of him. The fact was, Alfred was not the type of guy to confess what was wrong. He would hide his true feelings inside, underneath a mask, not wanting to feel a burden to anyone. Arthur wanted to make the male feel safe to tell him what was wrong, creating a safe environment for him.

Arthur took a deep breath, noticed how Alfred hadn't seen him and sang, "Here comes the rain again, falling through the stars. Drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are." The American's head snapped round, his bright blue eyes dull, tears streaming and flying everywhere. Arthur's fingers kept strumming, "As my memory rests but never forgets what I lost, wake me up when September ends~" His hands rest, his presence made known. "A-Arthur, why- why are you- why do you of all people care?! No, you know what? I don't care. I- I don't need anyone- it didn't happen- it's not true- I won't believe it's true-" That's when Arthur thought all hope was lost. The cheery, bubbly, if somewhat annoying and loud, Alfred was reduced to a broken, shell of a man. Arthur didn't even know why. But he could take a guess.

There was a reason that Alfred was playing this song in particular. Billie Joe Armstrong wrote this song in memory of his father who passed away. He fled from the funeral and when he came out of his room the first words he said were "Wake me up when September ends". Alfred had broken down after the lyrics 'like my father's come to pass, seven years has gone so fast'. Could it be something to do with Alfred's father? Probably. "What's wrong, Alfred? Please tell me." The Brit choked out, tears welling up in his eyes. He was never good at helping people who were crying but a sudden instinct swept over him and he hugged the shaking American. Alfred's eyes widened, and, if not for the situation at hand, would have blushed at Arthur's touch. "My- my dad- he- he-" Alfred broke down again, grabbing the back of Arthur's shirt, pulling him closer. "Did he die?" Questions the emerald eyed male, no beating around the bush required. As a result of hanging around Lukas, Arthur had become quite blunt in the way he spoke.

"Yes." Alfred was regaining himself a bit now, still nestled up against Arthur's chest, both men sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around each other. "He works- sorry, he worked for the American air force. He stayed there after we moved to Norway. My mum just called and told me the news. He died defending his country apparently." Tears were ever present in his eyes; they weren't going to disappear any time soon, that's for sure. "At least it was honourable though. You know, like the Kamikaze pilots we learnt about a few years ago. Honour until death." Arthur whispers. He knows the two things are different but he wants Alfred to understand that what his father did was probably for many. "He probably saved many lives during his service. I know his death will be hard to handle but you must feel slightly proud as well." Gears looked like they were turning in the American's head. "I guess you're right."
"I'm not the best person to be comforting you, though. I've never had to deal with death. Lukas, however, you could talk to about this. He knows what it's like to lose a parent."

"What's this about me?" A monotone voice spoke up from the doorway. Both men glanced up and noticed a familiar platinum haired Norwegian. Arthur regarded his position and blushed as Vlad peeked from behind Lukas, smirking. "Arthur was just saying you knew what it's like to lose a parent." Alfred chimed, his voice flat. "Well, well, well. What a predicament, Arthur. I thought you said you didn't like him that way?" The Romanian grins, causing Arthur to become more flustered and annoyed. "It's not like that and you know it, Vladimir!" The Brit yells. Lukas shoots Vlad a look and the red eyed male mutters a, "Fine. I'll leave," and walks away. "Anyway, ja, I do. My mother died when I was young. I have no idea where my father is, I don't remember him so I can only assume he's dead too."

"I'm really sorry. How did your mother die?" Alfred asks, concern sweeping into his voice. Arthur, on the other hand, was comprehending the situation. He had never heard Lukas mention his father. 'He must be an orphan then' the Brit thought. "Suicide." As stated earlier, Lukas was a very blunt person. If Mathias was being an idiot, he would tell him so. If someone seemed down, he would get right to working out the problem. If Arthur and Yao were fighting and it was annoying him, he'd tell them to stop without seeming to care about the consequences. "I assume that what we're talking about though isn't about that so I won't go on. Alfred, if you ever need to talk to me about this please feel free. I know that some people don't cope with these things well and go off the rails. I don't want that to happen to you so please talk to me if it's eating you up inside."

Alfred nodded, "Ok. Thanks, Lukas." With that, Lukas left and the two were alone (well, as alone as you can be with someone else). "Are you going to leave school early?"
"Of course. And Arthur?" They face each other. "Thanks for staying with me. I probably won't come to school for a long time though. I need to recover, if I ever do." Alfred sighs. "Take as much time as you need. Trust me, I know it hurts now and it will for a very long time but one day you will wake up and it just won't hurt as much." Alfred makes eye contact with Arthur and in that moment, contemplates about kissing him. They both stand up and pack away their guitars. "One more thing, Alfred. I hope you get better soon because when you don't smile, the days are just bleak, depressing and meaningless." Arthur strides out of the room, his own emerald orbs widening at his own sentence.

~
"Lukas." The Brit says later that day, flopping down on his bed. "Hm?" Comes the reply. "I have a problem."
"Is it the fact that you comforted Alfred F. Jones earlier and didn't call him 'Jones' the entire time?" Lukas tries to guess.
"More than that."
"Oh, ja? The indigo eyed man asks.
"I'm in love with Alfred freaking Jones, aren't I?

*****************************************
Sorry for not updating sooner. Updates will probably be more sparse as I'm in a very busy year now. It's going to be absolute hell but next summer is going to be so cool. For one thing, I'm going to Oslo for a few days. I've never been to Norway and I'm looking forward to it so much.

Here's an adorable picture of the Nordics wearing each other's clothes.

I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next one!
Bye!
~Peanutsfan1