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Chapter Two - Answers

It had been weeks since you met Alfred, and you haven't seen him since. His statement puzzled you beyond belief. You, a country representative? What even was a 'country representative'? Was he just flirting really weirdly? You had so many questions, and none of them were answered.

Asking your friends about it didn't make it any better, they just teased you about how you 'caught the eye' of a 'cute older guy'. It drove you absolutely insane. In the end, you decided to just try and forget about it.

The weather had gotten slightly warmer on your walk home from school that day, though you could still see your breath swirl into the air with every exhale. The streets were crowded in the same way it was a few weeks ago. You looked to the area where you met Alfred, almost hoping he would be there again so he could answer your questions. You sighed to yourself for thinking like that and continued to your apartment.

You were relieved as you stepped into the building, a nice warm burst of air hitting you as you opened the door. Letting out a sigh, you took off your hat and gloves and shoved them into the pockets of your coat, taking off down the hall to your flat.

The apartment was very old, and there was always something wrong with it. Your mom wanted to move out, but it was hard finding a cheap apartment in the same area. The numbers '108' were fixated to the door, chips of gold paint flaking off. It was shabby, but it was home. You pulled your key out of your pocket and unlocked the door, the hinges creaking as it opened. You stepped in, setting your bag down on the couch.

"Mom, I'm home!" You called, heading into the kitchen and closing the door behind you. You looked around, but there was nothing appetizing that you could find to snack on. The pantry was filled with stale graham crackers, gross soup, and pasta that had a strange aftertaste. You moved onto the fridge, but the results were just as poor. You groaned and slammed the door shut.

Just as you were about to give up and take a seat at the table, you heard the doorbell ring. It was very impatient, ringing over and over. It tempted you to take a peek outside, but you knew it wasn't any of your friends; they would usually just walk right in.

"Alright, I'm coming!" Your mom yelled, angrily stomping to the door. Annoyance was laced in her voice when she opened it, "yes?"

"Hello ma'am, would you happen to be Mrs. (l/n)?" A voice asked in an accent you couldn't pinpoint. Northern European maybe? Curious, you cracked open the kitchen door slightly to hear the conversation better.

"Yes I am. Why?"

"Do you have a daughter, sixteen years old named (y/n)?" A different voice asked. It was almost... familiar? You scrunched up your eyebrows, trying to figure out where you've heard it before.

There was a momentary pause before your mom answered, "yes, is she in trouble?"

"No ma'am, we just want to talk to her. In private."

Your eyes widened and your heart dropped to your stomach. Light footsteps approached the kitchen door, your pulse growing faster with each step. Your mom opened the door, a worried look on her face, "um, there are some young men here who want to speak with you."

"A-alright." You stuttered, nervously shuffling out of the kitchen. In the doorway stood three men you have never seen before. They all shared a slight resemblance, with blond hair and fair skin. Your mom patted you on the shoulder and gave them a weary glance before heading into her room.

Once she was gone, the shortest of the three stepped forward, smiling politely. His warm brown eyes were inviting and trustworthy. He held out his hand to you, "I'm Tino, nice to meet you (y/n)."

"Um, hello. Am... am I in trouble? I don't think I did anything wrong." You asked, shaking his hand.

"Of course not. We just need to talk to you about something very important. May we take a seat?" He said, giving you a sweet grin.