I walked away from Germany feeling glad that I'm not taking his class. I'm glad that my father told me not to, actually. He said that they might try to push politics into discussions. Poor Germany, though. I didn't imagine that he would be the target for such petty gossip. Shameful, he can't even defend himself. What kind of target is that? An easy target, Russia. Oh, well. At least I helped him with his homework. My classes were uneventful till now. Somebody spilled acid all over their shirt in Chemistry and there was a full debate war in our history class about whether or not we need to genetically reproduce an Archaeopteryx to better balance the modern ecosystem. So, basically, we got nothing done. How assiduous, how useful. My next class will definitely help me become a successful engineer. But I'm coming into the class without bias, since I'm too much in a good mood. The class was in the arts centre, and was in the big auditorium. Lucky for me, most of my classes except for sciences and history were comparatively small. When I came in, a girl was dancing in the stage and some other students were either sitting on the stage or on the floor, on their phones. I counted about six people, including me. Good. Not too many to witness my embarrassing moments. I sat down next to another guy on the stage and looked around. Most of the students were older than me, how does that happen all the time, and looked extremely bored.
"Hello my class!" A female voice in back of me trilled. I almost fell off the stage. The voice belonged to Professor France, who was wearing a black t shirt and a knee length ebony skirt with multicoloured dots on it and pink high heeled shoes and a beret. "How is everyone?"
"Good." The class said more or less enthusiastically.
"Well." I replied. She smiled at my choice of wording.
"Why don't we all introduce ourselves? I'll go first. We'll say our name, our year and what we like about drama, how is that?"
"Sounds good." A student agreed.
"Okay, my name is Professor France, but call me just France, it's easier. I'm your teacher, so yay! And I like drama because I can express emotions and tell a story on stage! Next person?"
A guy stood up in front of us. He was one of the students lying on the ground before, and his eyes looked permanently worried. He smoothed out his tan dress shirt before speaking. "Hi my name is Poland. I'm actually a fourth year. I forgot all about prerequisites. So I thought why not take drama...since it's okay. Better than other courses." He sat back down on the floor, looking flustered. He spoke very fast and had a soprano voice. He seemed to be one of those students who pulled all nighters, got worked up easily and was tired all the time. But Poland. That name rung a bell in my head. Yes, I've heard his name in conversation. Unfortunately, lost in thought, I missed everyone else's presentation till I snapped out and it was my turn.
"Your turn!" France told me.
"Um, my name is Russia. I'm a first year. And I like drama because...truthfully because it's better than Visual Arts and I like to dance."
"Very nice. Thank you all so much for being honest," she nodded in turn to each of us. "And I hope to give you all a class that might make you like drama! So who's ready?" She jumped right into her syllabus without further ado. Her class was all about knowing how drama and theatre worked. As her students, we would be working with the Theatre Club which put on a production each year. And, as her students, we would be expected to have a lead role. Yay. The play better not be something stupid. "As you all know now, we'll be closely cooperating with the Theatre Club, and those kids will just be there because they want to. You, my little ones, will be the 'professionals' I should say. Because we will be working on this play both with and without them." Little ones. Did she just call a group of university students kids? Two of my classmates were going for a Master's degree next year. I never was called Little. Always the eldest son.
"When will we be meeting? At what times?" Poland asked.
"Depending on the size of your role, you will come from just one a week to five times a week." She explained. "I know you have some important things to do, being in fourth year." She beckoned us to sit in a circle on the stage. The floor was wooden and glossed over with something rubbery. It was clean, unlike floors in my old school.
"So we'll be working on this play the whole time?" A student asked as we sat down. Instead of sitting, she knelt on the ground, preferring to put the pressure on her knees. She looked as old as Poland, but much more confident. She had striking white skin with little nicks and small scarring on her arms but her dark brown eyes glinted in the half light.
"Yes...Israel, we will. But we will also be studying how theatre works, what we do and different vocabularies and memorizations. So, definitely an in depth study of the stage," she swept her arms around her. Israel nodded in understanding and resumed to staring at each person in turn. When she looked at me, I stared back and she turned her head quickly, breaking eye contact.
"What play are we going to do?" Someone else asked.
"Ooh, good question!" France clapped her hands. "I'll tell you next time. I already have copies of the play. Some people here will very much enjoy it!" She was looking at me when she said it. I did tell her before that I was going to take her class, ahead of time. She told me that she'll try to make it interesting, since I admitted that theatre wasn't my calling.
"So what are we doing today?" Israel questioned again.
"Today is just an introduction," France said, standing up. "But why don't you show me what you guys can do on a stage. I have music, so you can pick something out. I understand that we aren't in dance class, but still. Sing or dance or act something out. You're choice! Who wants to go first?"
"I'll go last," I offered.
"Okay Russia, you can go last,"
"I'll go before Russia," Israel put in.
"I go before Israel," Poland said hurriedly.
"Really guys, and girls?" France huffed. "How about I go first? Eh? And then you sweetheart, Qatar. And then...hmm, you honey. And then you. And then Poland, Israel and Russia, as promised." She smoothed out her skirt and went over to plug in her phone to the main speaker. We all sat down right near the stage, at the first row of seats. Israel started to whisper in Poland's ear and he repeatedly giggled at her words. They were, in fact, quite annoying. I wondered if I twittered like that when I talked.
"No way!" He whisper yelled. "Why? I thought that only Vatican would ever make such a boring project!"
"It's seminar. I'm also taking it. Pretty stupid if you ask me. I should've taken it my first year to get it out of the way. But no, I wanted to get my degree hours. Now I have them, but left out my Arts and Seminar credits."
"Isn't it dumb? It can't be super hard. All you do is like, talk, right?"
"Sometimes. Sometimes we do things, other times we have projects. It isn't even your choice! See I didn't even know I had to take this class. Drama? Seriously, I thought I'd take Oil Painting and beginner music theory and that's it." She hissed back.
"Hush," Poland made a gentle shooing motion. "France is starting." The lights dimmed, all except for the stage. France leaped out and did a series of sweeping arcs with her hands to the slow music. The tone and pitch became louder and higher and her face went from calm to angry. She finished her one minute performance with a singing trill. When the music stopped, we clapped and Qatar whistled. She bowed and let the next person on the stage. Soon all of my classmates went on the spotlight. Poland sang a complicated song, Israel did a little dance and I kept thinking of what I should do.
"Russia! Your turn, come here." France asked me my music preferences. "What kind?"
"Um, something slow. I'll improvise,"
"I love improvisation. Go ahead!" Her eyes sparkled as she scrolled though her music. "Okay, ready."
"Here goes nothing," I muttered. I actually recognised the song, an Italian composition called Goodbye Colonel. I tried to improvise and flow with the music. I could generally create a nice effect with slow music. Usually making up some sort of story as I did it. Mine was losing a lover. After I finished, I got a nice applause from our group.
"Nice job!" Israel told me when I sat back down.
"Thank you,"
"You all were great! Next class I will be passing out the scripts and we'll assign roles! Hmm, sounds good?"
"Yeah," we replied in unison. I didn't realise that each performance took so long. But I guess I came into class late, then we talked and it took time.
"Great! See you next class," she waved at us. As I started to collect my books she came up to me. "Russia, can I talk to you?"
"Of course, ma'am." We crossed over to the end of the stage and she spoke as soon as everyone left. She flipped the switches at the end of the stage and all the lights came on, very brightly.
"So...I wanted to say, firstly, I liked your performance! It was very nice." She was obviously on to something.
"Thank you."
"Of course," she smiled. "I want to tell you about the play. I will be doing the Queen of Spades production. And I want you to play the lead role." She said it very fast and very suddenly.
"Uh, well...."
She looked at me as if I'd asked to jump off a cliff. "No no, you don't have to! I'm just thinking...you might like it. You seem very...non social, and I wanted you to...have a nice big role." So I was her pet now or something? I didn't mind, since I never was a teacher's pet before. I heard the benefits are great.
"Sure, I could do it. I've read the book."
That seemed to do the trick. "Aw, that's great! Here, let me give you the script. If anyone else wants the role, we'll do a fair try out. But I'll still give this to you." She handed me a glossy New script book. "If you can, you could do some in Russian. That would be interesting. I usually do French or English plays. A change of pace and scenery would be nice."
"Mhmm."
"Well, thank you so much, Russia! And have a great rest of your day. See you next time!" She skipped out of view and into a wing of the stage. She already wrote my name and the character's name, Hermann, on the script. Well, I hope she doesn't mind hopeless singing.
-----------------------------
So you're a teacher's pet, huh?" I was in the middle of my meal at the dining hall, with America and Germany. Iceland and Japan would be coming shortly. America was asking me how my class went. "You're my mom's pet."
"I know that." I said irritability pinching my voice. America was nagging me about how did I become his mother's favourite student without doing anything. "I mean, she couldn't have just given you the role for nothing."
"Maybe she wanted somebody who knew Russian? Because it is a Russian play." Germany pointed out. He was keeping silent most of the time, still eating.
"But still...you don't even know her, right?"
"I've talked to her. I warned her that I'm not the best in drama and that I might mess up." I explained. "Maybe she liked my bluntness."
"Maybe...what if-,"
Germany cut him off before he could come up with another accusation. "America, you should be happy for our friend. Not accusing."
"I'm not accusing you. I'm just saying." America fiddled with his fork.
"Okay, okay." I smiled. "I know."
"But she just spontaneously-,"
"America!" We both looked at him in annoyance. He put his hands up in surrender and made an innocent face.
"Sorry, sorry!" He sighed. "I just can't get over it. You? Teacher favourite? And not just any teacher's, my mom's? Impossible."
"Why don't you ask her, then?" I told him. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Japan moving deliberately slowly to our table. She wanted to surprise us again. Sorry Japan, I'm in no mood to choke on food today. "Japan and Iceland are here." I announced.
"No fair!" Japan cam up to us, whining. She sat down next to America and Iceland smirked.
"Where's my lover?" He drawled. "I have two pairs and a loner."
"Iceland, hush." Japan flicked both of her ears down.
"Did you know that Russ is my mom's pet?" America couldn't keep his mouth shut, now couldn't he. Germany sighed loudly and shook his head.
Japan and Iceland swirled their heads towards me like snake serpents. "What?"
"I cannot imagine you being one. Germany, yes, definitely. Not you." Iceland said.
"What's your problem with it?" I growled. Now they were rubbing me the wrong way. "Something wrong?"
"Nothing," Iceland said hurriedly, sensing danger. "It's just surprising."
"It better be." I muttered. "I finished anyway." I felt my insides boiling and I thought I might burst out right here. I needed to get out as fast as possible.
"You're leaving?" Japan whined. "We just got here a moment ago. Look, we're sorry. Really."
"No, it's not you. I'm just finished, that's all." It was half a lie. I was finished with my food, so I had no intention of sitting in the stuffy room any longer. "And my mood is ruined. So I don't want to ruin it for everyone else." My mood would not lighten, no matter how much anyone tried. My father would say that only girls do that, but...I've never seen Belarus do it. I guessed only I had amplified emotions. Leaving them there without another word, I ran out of the hall and outside. The cold air hit my face, and I felt myself calm down. After a few deep breaths and watching it rise up like smoke, I went out to walk around. The night was nice, and I could see patches of stars and clear sky. The air was still this evening, and the lamps all twinkled like stars inside intricate glass and bronze cages. I walked over the white concrete pathways and stopped. Somebody was tailing me. I whipped around, ready to attack my pursuers, but I was greeted by a flustered looking Germany.
"Oh, sorry...I just wanted to see if you were okay...really. I'll go now then." He was ready to turn back after his lame excuse.
"No," I was surprised by my own words. He stopped in his tracks and looked back. "Stay."
"Alright." He came over and draped a scarf over my exposed neck. "I was just worried. You went out so fast."
"I have a problem. With emotions. I can't just let them slide, or else the whole school will know my name and face."
"Oh," he looked at me, the moonlight reflecting off his eyes. "I don't think you're like that."
"I just don't like when it seems like I'm accused." I admitted. "And that's what America was doing."
"I thought that. I wanted to stop him...but I guess you can't stop the Land Across the Sea."
"Спасибо." The word came out without me knowing. Before I could apologise and translate, he smiled and replied.
"Конечно." He smiled. There was a thick German accent, but I could understand him.
"You speak Russian?"
"A little. Mostly understand. Living with your father and all." He said awkwardly, tucking his chin, since he'd given his scarf to me. I took it off, knowing that I could survive ten minutes of cold weather. "Thanks." He whispered, when I gave him back his scarf. "I'm sorry, again."
"I know you are, you are forgiven." I sighed.
"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" He asked, pressing against my side. "I'm not America. I won't tell anyone."
"Promise?"
His eyes were full of seriousness. "I promise."
"I'm actually taking a therapy. With Dr. Austria. That's why I saw you this afternoon. I was coming out of his office. I asked him to help me with this...problem. He told me it's minor, but still."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Russia." He hugged my waist. "I didn't know."
"It's not your fault." I said roughly. I hugged him back, but the embrace was not long. "I'm cold. And tired. So I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Okay." He seemed to be upset, but I had my own problems to deal with. And my father was going to call me as well. "Bye then. Have a good night."
"You too." I walked away and he kept staring at me till I rounded a corner. As soon as I did so, my phone started to vibrate. Good time to call papa. "Ало?"
"Hi Russia, how are you?" My father's low voice sounded through the speaker.
"Okay..."
"Just okay? Not good?"
"No...I'm having some problems..."
"With Austria? He should know better." He sounded irritated.
"No. With my friends."
"Ah, I see. The frozen ice cube, crazy cat and Burger King?"
"Sort of, yeah. Well and..." I wanted to say Germany, but it stuck in my throat. I couldn't let him know now.
"And who?"
"Nobody," I lied quickly.
"Россия." He said sternly. "Your father loves you. We shouldn't keep any secrets from each other."
"Yes, papa." My head bowed in defeat. "And Germany. My new friend. Well...he's been a friend for a long time now." Silence and static met my words. "Papa?" I heard a little cough in the background and a whispered swear.
"Yes?" His voice reappeared.
"I'm sorry, papa. It's not just the academics. I'm having the stupidest kinds of issues. Social and emotional ones that are frivolous and childish, I should really-,"
"Russia, it's not too long till the holiday break. You'll come back here for the recess and we'll figure everything out...I lied to you about some things. I have to apologise and tell you the truth."
"Can't you say it now?" I sounded like a five year old.
"No, Russia. Not over the phone." He chuckled. "You know me and my surveillance paranoia. And I want to see you when I tell you this. It's important."
"You...you don't mind me being friends with Germany, right?"
"No no. I don't. That's okay. You have the right to pick who you're friends with. It's not my responsibility. You're an adult now. And I have to tell you some adult things. Good?"
"Yes."
"You're a good child, Russia." His voice became softer over the phone. There was a steady clink of porcelain against metal. He was probably drinking his evening tea. "Don't work yourself up too much. Follow what Austria says and you'll be fine. And if you don't like your friends...well then you don't have to keep them. They don't deserve to have you."
"Спасибо," I managed to say.
"I'll see you soon, my little owlet. Good night."
"Good night." I hung up. On felt a little better after my call. At least my father was on my side, and it took pressure off me. He approved of my friendship with Germany. That's what mattered.
------------------------------
Спасибо - Thank you
Конечно - of course
Ало - hello (Greeting over the phone.)
Россия - Russia