Beautiful Cruel World

Why Me?

It's not fair.

Always calling me a pig, an idiot. A horrible role model.

A weak excuse for a nation.

...

America was silent for once as the World Meeting progressed around. The area around him was in utter chaos. Turkey and Greece were insulting one another, Japan and China had gotten into an argument on what the best way to prepare rice was, and the Micronations had sneaked their way into the room. Spain was busy asking Romano for a hug, to which the flushed Italian screeched at him to go away. Italy had already spotted Serborga and were conversing happily while Germany was 200% done with the meeting. Everyone else was watching France and England fight. So why was the normally loud and rambuncious country so silent? Well, that requires going back to the meeting at an earlier point of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Thanks dudette, you're the best!" He called out. His state smiled and honked before accelerating, off to work.

America was at the UN building in New York City, the normal bustle of his citizens calming to his ears. He thought about walking to the nearest McDonald's, but changed his mind since New York had driven and dropped him off when she didn't have to. He felt like it would be an insult to her so he kept going, entering the International Complex.

He was fairly early thanks to her knowledge of the city streets. He felt rather giddy that he was here before most of the other nations. Maybe England would even be proud. When that thought passed through his mind, he sped up and had reached the meeting room's doors when he heard laughter.

Against his better judgement, he listened from outside the door, stealthily silent.

"I don't see why you still waste time with America aru, he just takes what he wants without even caring about the consequences."

America swallowed as he caught China's voice, his good mood flying right out the window.

"Китай's* right. He's just a sorry excuse for a nation and has no reason to think he could get whatever he wants just by merely pointing at it."

America fought his urge to gasp at what the Russian had said. He knew they hadn't had gotten along on the best of terms, but he wasn't that bad, was he? And then he heard the voice he had expected to defend him.

"Honestly Japan, just let me know if the bloke is bothering you. He can be headstrong when he wants to, but a firm, direct no should work."

This time, the American fought back tears as a piece of his hopeful, happy heart cracked. He angrily wiped away tears and put on a brave face as he pushed the doors open. Three faces flinched and paled, the way it normally does when the person you shit-talk about enters the room.

Except Russia, of course. He was calmly smiling away.

Out of the three, Japan seemed most disturbed by his quick entrance. Eyes narrowing, America quickly steeled himself back into his happy self, before the his Japanese friend 'read the mood'. He laughed loudly as he playfully smacked England on the back, yet it was a bit forced, as he restrained himself not to use his full strength.

England stumbled a bit and scowled at the American in annoyance. "Watch yourself git!" He yelled before shrugging his hand off the Brit's back.

Strike One

America gave a sheepish smile as he tried to play off the rejection as nothing. "I'm sorry Iggy, I-" The American tried to get in before he was rudely cut off. "And how many times have I told you not to call me that?" He snapped.

Strike Two

America flinched as if he had been slapped, and tried to keep eye-contact with his former brother figure. He rubbed the back of his head, the way he always did when he was nervous. "Sorry England." He murmured, feeling a bit more embarrassed, not just because the other nations seemed to watch, but now that he knew what they seemed to think of him, they probably found enjoyment in his demise. He turned around halfway before realizing his mistake.

Strike Three

England hated when people had the last word. He liked to be respected, and turning your back on him when he didn't appear done was the worst he could've done. With the Brit semi-jetlagged, the American's morning antics, and the fact there was little to no one in here, the Brit had nothing to really hold him back as his hand reared and smacked his former colony across the face. A sharp sound resonated and the American was stunned and momentarily dazed as he fully procesed what just happened. The other contries watched America, to see what he would do.

A hand tentatively reached up to where he could feel the heat on his cheek. He didn't even realize it as a lone tear from earlier made it's appearance.

<¬^¬^¬^¬^¬>

Needless to say, the morning was a demoralizing one. America honestly didn't even care about the area around him. Just before he thought of silently slipping out of the room, Germany finally gave up trying to relieve his strained mind and called for a lunch break.

The room slowly emptied as the personifications clustered around friends and conversed. America looked at the clock as he stood. 12:15. He had roughly an hour before the meeting came back into session. He pulled out his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.

"Silver, do you think you could meet me at the Mirai Cafe now?"