Yugotalian 8

Chapter four

3. 3. 2006.

Well, there's a meeting in Croatia...

I wonder how Serbia's doing...

Why don't we all see for ourselves?

~~~

-Shit, shit, shit.- Serbia mutters as he remembers he needs to go to Croatia for the conference the next day. He tries to calm himself down but it doesn't work. What is even worse he needs to give Croatia his jacket back which means talking to him.

-Mr. Serbia is everything alright?- One of the maids asks and Serbia looks at her with a sad look on his face.

-Ne, nije Marice...(No, it's not Marica.)- He says with a sigh and Marica nods frowning a bit.

-You know, they should not look at your mistakes Mr. Serbia.- Marica says and Serbia looks at her.

-You shouldn't get involved in this, these are my problems and I don't want anyone taking it as theirs too...- He says and Marica smiles softly.

-As you say Mr. Serbia.- The old woman says and Serbia frowns at her, he knew her for years now, she only meant well. Serbia shakes his head and picks up his suitcase and Croatia's jacket, walking out of the mansion.

-Goodbye Mr. Serbia.- Marica says with the same smile still on her face. Serbia smiles too, waving to her and walking towards the garden gate. He enters his car and starts driving from Belgrade to Zagreb where the conference was held. It takes him a few hours but it's still day when he comes. He parks in front of a hotel and signs in, walks to his room and flops on the bed groaning.

-Zašto me mržiš Bože? (Why do you hate me God?)- He asks and closes his eyes, thinking of all the bad things that could happen to him... Wait... Shit..... He opens up his eyes.

-I forgot the invitation home...- He slaps himself and screams into a pillow.

-How stupid can I be!?- He asks/yells at himself and frowns closing his eyes once again. Only thing, or better to say, person that could let him in would be Croatia then. He bites his lip and sighs.

-Well, let's just hope he'll let me in...- He mumbles, feeling tired because of the trip.

-Now I should get some sleep...- He says, putting the alarm on his phone to wake him up at 6 a.m. and lays down on his side once again, falling asleep almost immediately.

4. 3. 2006.

The alarm goes off.

-Fuck.- Serbia groans and wakes up, finding himself the floor. He guesses he fell on the floor while sleeping and stands up with pain in his back.

-Ow...- He mumbles and turns the alarm off, walking to the bathroom, doing the stuff every other person does there. He gets out and makes himself coffee. While he waits for the water to boil, he changes his clothes. He sighs and takes a sip of his coffee, looking at the clock. It's only a quarter to seven so he didn't really hurry. He finishes his coffee and goes to put all the stuff he needs into a bag. As he ends that he looks at the clock once again. Eight minutes past seven.

-Well, guess I'll just walk there. It's not far away and the weather in Croatia is nice.- He says and goes out of the room, quickly grabbing his bag and locking the door. He gets outside and breaths in the air. He starts walking and comes there after about ten minutes. The first thing he sees in front of the building is some guy talking to Croatia.

-Miroslav!- Serbia yells and Croatia looks over with a confused look. No one knows his real name except his family.

-Serbia? What do you want?- He asks with a growl coming right after.