USUK (Hitman! Jones X Victim! England)

Chapter 1 (Well Hello There)

Alfred's POV

It was a lonely day yet again, same blood same guts same screams of the innocent or so they plead. It disgusts me how all these sinners think they deserve me and Ivan's mercy, it's funny sometimes though. Well when I get home I can at least wash this blood off me. I walk into the tall dark apartment I live in, in the narrows of course. Ivan is waiting for me in my room, he tries to act like we're a couple but that's making a deal with the devil I'd rather keep my hands clean on. I've already took enough bets and deals. He smiles and stands up from my lazy boy pushing me into the seat next to him.

"We have a new job, Jones." I stiffen in my seat as he lets go of my tie.

"There is a new British rocker boy coming to town with his band. I want him dead, Jones." I nod and sigh, running into my room to change into something different. I grab a nice white polo and black jeans. Casual right? I add a bow tie and some suspenders to add class then a pair of gloves in case, it is a rock band right? I whip up a fake VIP pass and walk out of the building. I ruffle my hair a little and smirk.

"Knock'em dead Jones." I say to myself calmly. I then walk out the door.

Soon enough I was at the stadium, this guy must be huge he made it to one of the biggest arenas here. I walk to the back where the bus is and see a boy leave, it obviously wasn't him though, Ivan said something about eyebrows on the way but this guy has normal ones, in fact he looks familiar. I shake it off and walk up to the bus.

"Hey you can't go in there!"

"I have a pass though,"

"That's for after the concert idiot."

"Fine. But this pass stands for me being the first one to see him afterwards, you better keep that promise..." I look for his name tag. "Gilbert." He sighs and brushes his albino hair out of his eyes.

"Whatever, go back to the crowd tough guy." I nod and leave, getting to my seat real close to the stage. I was right in front of the mic. The lights dim within minutes and the first band comes up, they were awful. Some Polish rocker named Feliks. I sigh and when he leaves the stage turns blood red and a British flag falls behind the mic. The sound of a guitar strum plays loudly on the amp in front of me making me have to hold my glasses up. I smirk knowing this is my man. He rips through the flag. Holy shit. God dammit he's hot.

"Hello America!"

"Yo!" Everyone screams.

"Are you wankers ready to hear what rock really is?!" I smirk in the audience while everyone else screams and shouts. He had a thick accent. "Well be ready ladies and douche bags!" I laugh a little and he starts playing. After a few songs he decides to call someone from the audience to sing with him. I laugh at this stupidity, he notices though and calls me up to sing with him.

"Really, man?" He nods and smirks. I roll my eyes and walk onstage. "What are we singing then, Kirkland."

"Aw, he's a pushover! We know how to treat them!" The crowd cheers and I smirk. I walk up to the mic.

"I mean I don't sing guys but I'll try."

"What's your name bow tie?"

"Just call me bow tie."

"Alright then." He picks up his guitar and with a loud strum the song Welcome To The Black Parade starts. I laugh a little at his song choice but play along. Singing the lyrics so good the crowd actually applauds me. Finally some applauding for my justice. After the three hour long concert I follow him to his bus. I walk inside and Gil growls at me. I just laugh at him though as other girls wait behind me. I smirk and walk up to Arthur, he's alone while his other band members are setting away the instruments.

"Hello Artie."

"Oh hey bow tie." I close the door behind me, no bus driver either, good. I walk up to him and smirk. "What is it, bow tie, signature? Hug? Kiss? Make out? I'm joking gay boy." I roll my eyes and push him against his own couch. He pauses smirking too. "Woah didn't know you were into that?"

"I'm not." I choke him harder trying to snap his thick British neck. But I just can't not by his strength. I growl.

"Five days British boy. Five days." He rolls his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"You have five days to change my mind about killing you, you're beyond lucky I didn't kill you right now."

"Really or do you just not have the guts?"

"You got moxy, that's a good thing. But it'll kill you soon enough." He laughs.

"Five days is more than enough.

"Okay make it three."

"Five. Five is fine."

"Good luck, Artie." I leave practically within seconds.