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"Hey, Jerk England!"
I called out to my older brother, who was still inside the conference room.
Hmp! I, The Principality of Sealand, should have been apart of the World Conference in the first place! I managed to sneak myself inside the conference room during their break time until my jerk of an older brother kicked me out.
He'll see!
I'm going to be the greatest empire one day!
I'll be greater than the British Empire!
However, right now, there is a different matter to discuss.
As the countries filed outside the room, I walked in to see England gathering his documents and placing them inside his briefcase. Beside him was a taller nation, America by the looks of it, stood beside England, obviously annoying the hell out of him.
"America, will you quit it?! I do not want to watch a horror marathon with you! How many times do I have to-"
"Jerk England!" I called out to him one more time. I ignored America while I poke my brother's stomach. "Make me another batch of scones! I'm hungry!"
"Huh?" England replied. "The serving I made could last three days for you. How did you manage to finish them in one sitting?"
"Stupid! I didn't eat a single one of them because someone else ate them!" I complained. "I can't believe another soul can manage to eat those disgusting scones."
"Pardon me! If you think that my scones are revolting then why do you insist on eating them still?"
I didn't know how to reply back. I only manage to stutter out incoherent sentences, causing me to blush in embarrassment.
Despite the fact that other countries think England's food was bland and inedible, I, for some reason, can stomach and eat it just fine. Must be because I've been eating his food for a while.
I may hate England because he's a meany and he doesn't want to recognize me as a country, but he still somehow finds many ways to care for me. He sends me resources to help me maintain my country… and- and he lets me stay at his house and he gives me free food. When I got hurt one time, he didn't hesitate to help me. He's always the first one to run to my aid when I need it.
Okay so I don't actually hate England...
B-but I'll never admit it to him or anyone! Only the weak shows their personal feelings! I have to be strong!
"That's because it was the only thing I have! And somebody else ate it!" I retorted, puffing my cheeks and crossing my arms. "Now be a good brother and make me another batch! I'm starving!"
England sighed and closed his briefcase. "I can't make another batch, but I'll cook dinner for us. I'll let you stay in my house for tonight and we can make scones on the next day. How does that sound?"
I'll never tell him that I felt ecstatic when he told me that.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "I'll go with you. It's not like I want to. I have nothing better to do and I can't refuse free food! Now let's go!"
"Hey! Make it a dinner for three 'cause I'm crashing in your place tonight!" America, who was watching us quietly the entire time, said with a loud voice.
"No you will not," England snapped, pulling his briefcase off the desk and shrugging off the hand that America placed on his shoulder. "You told me my cooking was bland!"
"It's not bland, dude, it's utterly disgusting. Someone has to taste test your food so this little guy won't get poisoned. Am I right, buddy?" America laughed, ruffling my hair with his hand.
"Let me go! I can take care of myself!" I huffed, pushing his hand away. "You don't have to come!"
"I insist! You should be grateful to have the wonderful United States of America sitting with you during dinner. Isn't that right, Iggy?" He nudged England, who scowled back in reply.
No wonder Jerk England gets irritated when America enters the same room as him.
"Tell him he can't come, England!" I demanded as I tugged his arm.
England seemed pleased by that. "Apologies, America. It'll just be Sealand and I for tonight."
America pouted at that. "That's not fair." He crossed his arms. "I can't believe you're turning me down. When I was a kid, you never turned me down. Come on, Iggy, let me stay with you for tonight. All I'm asking for is a place to crash for one night. Please?"
To my shock, America caught England's other hand and he pulled my brother towards him. A kicked, puppy dog look stretched on America's face, which was enough to change England's mind.
"F… fine."
NOOOOOOO.
x
I felt strange deja vu right now.
It was another World Conference meeting today; another failed mission to be apart of it.
When will these stupid nations finally recognize me as a country?! No one even glances a single second towards me! Not even that Canada guy who's always invisible to everyone. The only person who seems to notice me is that Jerk England. And when he does mention me to the other nations, they resort to kicking me out of the room and telling me to go home.
You'll see.
ALL OF YOU WILL SEE.
Just like that Jerk England, I'll start off small and become the world's greatest empire!
All I needed to do was find an ally to help me build my way up to success.
The question is… who?
"Maybe I'll ask Sweden… or maybe Finland for help," I pondered. It was lunch break right now, so the other nations were scattered around the building eating their meals, or they were outside residing in a restaurant. "I'll look for them later after I eat the scones England made for me. I'm starving."
I left my bag and lunch in the common room, which was always empty for some reason. A lot of the countries preferred eating at the conference room or sitting at the dining area. Which is good because I have the common room all to myself!
Nevertheless, I skidded to a stop when I caught a glimpse of the common room door. It was opened ajar. How could that be? I made sure to close it when I went to the restroom. Was someone eating in there too?
Peeking inside, my eyes caught a familiar bomber jacket that a certain nation wears in every single conference meeting. There was no doubt that that nation standing there was America. At first I thought he was eating his usual McDonalds Big Mac meal, but after seeing what was actually in his hand, my jaw dropped and my insides bubbled in rage.
Kicking the door wide open, I pointed an accusing finger at him.
"SO IT WAS YOU!" I yelled, causing America to flinch and turn around, his cheeks full with what seems to be my precious, burnt confectionaries. "YOU WERE THE ONE WHO ATE ALL MY SCONES THE OTHER DAY! YOU IDIOT! YOUT THIEF! THIS IS TREASON!"
America swallowed and wiped his mouth. Everyday he wore an idiotic smile that annoyed everyone to no end, but this time, his face was twisted in fear and horror.
Hah! He must be afraid of me! He was caught red handed!
"S… Sealand," he gulped, and I somehow felt bigger than him. "Is… is England with you right now?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"No, but I'm going to get him!" I turned around and prepared to run. "I'm telling England that it was you that stole my scones! Together, we will declare war on the United States of America!"
Before I could even take a step, America grabbed my collar and closed the door shut, locking it as well.
"Let me go, you thief!" I struggled to escape his hold.
America did let me stand back on my feet, but he took a hold of my arms, knelt down, and stared right into my eyes with a serious look that I've never seen displayed on his face.
It almost scared me…
Okay maybe it did scare me.
"Sealand…" He started, his voice reaching deeper volume. "I'm begging you, please, do not tell England that I was eating his scones."
"Those were my scones."
"Yeah, but he was the one who made them, right?"
"Yeah, but he gave them to me," I said, scowling at him. "What's the big deal anyway? Why are you eating what England made? Didn't you say they were disgusting?"
America grinned, and then he laughed. "It's a long story, buddy, but to keep it short, let's just say I'm a little bit just like you."
"What do you mean? You're a superpower, and I'm still a kid. How are we alike?"
"Well, in regards to England of course. Both of us care for him but have no guts to admit it to his face. We enjoy his cooking despite the fact that-"
"I-I don't care for England! And I absolutely hate his cooking! He attempts to cook something and it comes out tasting like charcoal!"
"Yet you still eat it, right?" I looked down. "Exactly."
"What… whatever," I muttered, but I looked back up at him. "I'm still not letting you go though! You stole what belonged to me!"
"Alright, alright, I apologize about that," America started. "Look, in exchange for your silence, I'll export supplies from my country to yours. Just don't tell England about any of this."
Hmm…
America's gaze turned to the container placed atop on the coffee table. "Or better yet," he said, turning to me with a grin. "Why don't we agree on a trade? Just like what mature countries do?"
Now that caught my attention.
"I'll give you anything that you want; resources, exports, protection," he listed down. "I'll give you all of that in exchange for a container of England's scones. In addition, I'll add a bonus if you give me something else other than scones, as long as England cooked or baked it."
I must be dreaming.
This was what I've been looking for all my life!
He'll give me all of that in exchange for England's horrible kitchen skills?
Now that is a trade worth accepting.
"There must be a catch to this… why would you give me resources that could cost millions of dollars?"
"There's no catch, little buddy. And it's not like I'm selling them to you. It's a trade remember? I'll give you resources, but in return, you give me food that's made by England."
"Why England though? How can his terrible cooking be of the same value as what you're offering me?"
Call me blind or whatever, but is that a blush on America's face?
America scratched the back of his head as his eyes turned to look upwards, a weird expression twisting on his face. "I… I just really miss his cooking that's all. These days, it's hard to ask him to cook for me. It hurts my pride, you know? Even if they taste like charcoal and all."
So we are kind of a like.
"That's why you insisted on eating dinner with us?"
"Exactly."
"Hmm…" I squinted my eyes. "There's something I'm missing here. It can't all be England's cooking, right?"
America chuckled, and he still wore that weird expression that I can't explain. "You're still young, little dude. You'll understand when you're older." I urged him to continue. "I love him; I love your brother, Sealand. But don't tell him that. He's not ready to… well I'm not ready to confess to him."
Love?
I don't really understand so I'll disregard it.
"Well then," America stood up, grinning at me with a sparkle of diplomacy in his blue eyes. "Do we have a deal, Sealand?"
He offered his hand towards me.
Grinning back, I took his hand before we did a firm handshake in agreement.
"We have a deal."