The Masquerade

Chapter 8 - The Argument

"Ah, America. I've been looking all over for you." Father smiled at me.

I knew it was fake. He never called me into his office unless he wanted to yell at me about something.

"It's not like I was hiding or anything." I replied snarkily.

Father's smile fell. "I wanted to ask you about the ball last night. Did you think it pleasant?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Besides the part where I almost had a panic attack.

"Earlier today you mentioned meeting someone of interest. Could you tell me about her?"

For a second, I didn't register what my father had said. But when I did, it made me furious.

"I never said the person of interest was a girl." I stood my ground.

My father's frown deeped. "But you did meet a lady."

"I did." I thought of Japan. "But just like all the other ladies you've introduced me to, I haven't liked her like that."

"Care to explain what you mean by 'like her like that?' I'm not quite sure I know what you mean." I could tell my father was not pleased by the direction this conversation was going. And I was not about to change it.

"Every time you introduced me to a lady, it's in an attempt for me to fall in love. You want me to find a wife, you that you can continue to pass on the crown." I stood my ground. "If you want to pass the crown off to a son with a wife, then by all means skip me and give the crown to Canada. Goodness knows he's already gotten the proposal to Ukraine ready."

Every word I said seemed to be a bullet, slowly wearing down the brilliant plan my father had been relying on for too long.

"But I'm telling you now, nothing's ever going to change between me and whoever you bring in next, because it's always going to end the same way." I continued.

But suddenly, I made a realization. I realized what was nagging me about Germany and Poland, and why those sparkling amber eyes seemed to be everywhere I went.

"And there's a reason to it too." I said, a lot slower than before, as I tried to put my thoughts into words. "It's not because I haven't met the right one, or haven't given them a chance. There's a reason that I don't have interest in them."

I took a deep breath, knowing this was the statement that would shatter everything.

"It's because I'm gay."

My father did nothing. He just stared at me, total shock, disbelief, and anger written all on his face.

We stood there for a moment, me defiantly, my father defeatedly, before my father spoke.

"Leave."

It was a simple word, spoken softly but with fury.

"You are dismissed."

As I turned to leave, Father grabbed his tea cup, and clenched it.

Father never mistreated his tea cups.

I had made him mad.

No, the emotion was more than mad.

It was absolute hatred.

I had only made him this angry once before.

Years ago, a younger version of me watched as broken pieces of porcelain drifted down the river behind the castle. Watching, he knew a severe punishment awaited him.

I knew a severe punishment awaited me.

I avoided my father for the rest of the day. I had lunch later in the afternoon than I would normally, and I skipped dinner altogether, mostly because I just had no appetite.

I slept in really late the next morning, skipped breakfast, and spent most of the day alone in my room.

Mostly I just didn't want to see my father.

At one point, both Canada and Mexico came to visit me, asking if I was okay. I told them I was, but I didn't bother giving them any details.

Eventually Mexico gave up asking, realizing I wasn't going to spill, yet for some reason, Canada just became more insistent the more I put off his questions.

"Come on, America!" Canada pushed. "I know there's something going on, you haven't left your room for like two days straight, you don't talk to anyone, and every time I see Dad he looks super ticked off. Something must have happened between you two."

I pushed my head deeper into my pillow, knowing Canada was right.

Canada stood there, waiting for an answer. I paused for a second, trying to figure out what to do, before I finally looked up at my younger brother.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Mother." I said, already fighting the cracks in my voice.

Canada nodded, and I knew he would be true to his word. If there was one thing Can-Can was good at, it was keeping his promises.

So I told him everything. Everything from the party, to the mystery man who I still didn't know his name, to the argument with Britain.

My brother stayed quiet the whole time. He didn't interrupt me, which was good because the way I was going if I stopped I'm not sure I'd be able to start again.

When I finished Canada didn't say anything, he just kind of stood there and processed all of it.

"So you're gay." He said. It wasn't a harsh statement, it was just a fact, and he said it like he was trying it out, seeing how it felt.

Then he nodded again, this time mostly to himself. "I like it. I think it fits you."

I smiled just a little. My brother had restored a small amount of faith in me again, that maybe I wasn't permanently changed from who I was.

Just because it wasn't what society had deemed appropriate didn't mean it wasn't who I was.

"I can see now why he's so mad at you." Canada spoke in a quieter voice this time.

It was true. He'd spent most of my life trying to find the perfect queen for me, and here I am just basically telling him it was a waste of time.

"What do you think I should do?" I buried my face into my pillow again. "I can't have him mad at me forever."

"I think you know what you should tell him." Canada gave me a tense smile, and I winced.

"I know, but— you know what happened! What if it happened again? I can't— He would—"

Canada cut me off. "America. That was two years ago. Plus, now you know better. It wouldn't happen again, no matter how drunk you got. Just... think about it. And come down for dinner, everyone's worried about you."

Canada left my room, and I was alone with my thoughts again. 

I sighed. Maybe Canada was right...