Chapter Text
I don’t think an introduction is needed to start this story. It was another biannual meeting between the Latin Americans, another meeting with no work done. It always consisted of three key components: sleeping, fighting, and gossip. Made sense why officials stopped assigning them work to do! Brazil was hosting, and thus he was technically in charge. It went as well as you’d expected, which was not good at all.
“Listen up idiotas, as the leader of this meeting we have some very important topics to discuss. Firstly, who plans on DJing tonight at the party?”
Paraguay raises her hand, and Brazil writes it down. All the questions he asks are pertaining to the party, about what music they want and if he got enough alcohol. It was typical for every meeting to have a party afterwards, if you didn’t, you’d be bullied until everyone finds something new to talk about (so about a day). Parties are not to be messed with, they’re practically a religious festival for them all. Colombia’s party is still being talked about after Carlos Vives made a guest star appearance.
One of the only ones still listening to the party conversation, Uruguay fiddled with the pen in his hand as he thought about tonight. You could never predict one of these things, you just had to mentally prepare yourself for whatever outcome that came in the morning. He’s usually been good, though he couldn’t say the same for Argentina. His cousin tended to be one of the worst, usually ending up in a different country. He once ended up in Italy, and he just told the Italian to stick a stamp on his forehead and mail him back home.
The man in question sat right next to him, and from the corner of his eye he saw him move closer.
“Ready for this party? You know Alexio’s (Brazil) parties never miss.”
“Oh I can’t wait, I wonder what problems you’ll cause next. Maybe you’ll end up on Las Islas Malvinas and cause a diplomatic crisis.”
Argentina scoffed in response. He wasn’t that bad, Uruguay was just being dramatic. And he’d know dramatic, he was an Argentine after all.
“Don’t worry, I actually have a plan for tonight.”
“Finally using that head of yours? What’s your plan?”
Argentina leaned in front of Uruguay, holding his hand out to motion across the table. The person he had motioned to was Mexico, who was too busy arguing with Guatemala to notice he had been pointed at. The Uruguayan stared at his cousin with a surprised and slightly fearful look. He knows very well how Argentina got when he was into someone, always having to deal with the aftermath when it typically failed.
“Aye Dios mío, you cannot be serious. You two have been at this for decades by now, what are you going to do that’s so different than before?”
“You’ll see Felix, I am a country of passion, of love! I’m a romantic at heart, all you have to do is watch. Though, you gotta have your own fun tonight.”
Uruguay scowled slightly hearing that, muttering that he does have fun. Argentina gave him a look of disbelief, knowing damn well he wasn’t totally truthful.
“Okay, maybe you do have some fun, but you don’t do anything. You don’t take any risks!”
“I don’t need to take risks to have fun. Anyways, what could I even do? The only person that I could’ve…”
They both look over at Paraguay, who’s still talking to Brazil about the party. Argentina turns to look back at Uruguay, who’s staring at her. Her smile, her face. He sighs out deeply, to which Argentina whispers over to him.
“You know you don’t have much of a chance anymore.”
“Yeah…I know.”
“That just means you gotta talk to some more people, you’ll find someone eventually. You’re my cousin after all, if I’m beautiful, you’re beautiful!”
He pats Uruguay on the back and slides away on his chair to speak to someone else. As demented as his cousin can be, he knows he’s right. It was time to seriously move on. He knows you can’t just fall in love immediately, but there’s a certain charm to Latino parties that makes anything possible.
Across the table to another corner, the Caribbean was doing what they do best: scheme. The Dominican Republic was leading the conversation, with Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Haiti listening in.
“I worked my Dominican magic and we’re now allowed to host our domino competition. The only rule is to not break the table, I’m looking at you Jean you get way too angry when you lose.”
Haiti rolled his eyes at her comment, knowing she was even worse. He might break tables, but she stabbed someone with a Mamajuana bottle. They had to run from the police and stay in hiding for a day. He spun around in his chair, head leaning against his hand.
“So is it going to be us four only?”
Puerto Rico motioned towards the room in a dramatic manner.
“There’s not that many of us, half of the other players don’t come to these meetings. Doesn’t matter though, the less people the quicker my win WEPAAAAAA”
Cuba kicked the Puerto Rican’s chair, causing it to wobble around. The two glared at each other, locked in a staring contest. DR and Haiti watched with disinterest, they’ve seen those two do that weekly. DR spun around before stopping in front of Haiti.
“Should the winner get something?”
“Maybe we all state what we want if we win, before we start the game.”
“I like that! What do you want if you win?”
“To kick you out of the party.”
DR threw her pen at him, cursing when she missed due to him dodging. The two siblings knew how the other worked, giving them both a disadvantage when they started to fight. She glared at him coldly.
“Maldito Diablo.”
“Don’t be such a sore loser already Marcia, I think it’s a funny reward. You and the two losers still staring at each other gotta choose by tonight.”
“I’ll make sure mine is even better than yours! Just watch, una Dominicana nunca pierde.”
Puerto Rico, snapping out of his stare, kicked DR’s chair as Cuba laughed in the background over his supposed win.
When break was held, a group convened to drink coffee together. Colombia, Costa Rica, and Brazil sat together, an unlikely group but it makes sense. The three liked to brag about how good their exports were, while making fun of their neighbors. Colombia sipped her coffee as she smirked at Brazil.
“Looking forward to tonight? Remember, you have my party to go up against! And I had a celebrity singer show up after all.”
“I’m not worried. Statistically speaking, I’ve held better parties than you. Anyways, I don’t need some guy to have a good time. I know this will end up interesting on its own.”
Costa Rica, sitting between them, watched the two bicker. She bit into her sandwich, finding the whole situation amusing. It was certainly different from how her neighbors fought, especially when they had several biters in the group. She started to daydream away, hoping a certain person would be with her. It wasn’t until she felt hands on her shoulders that she snapped out of her daze and turned around quickly. To her surprise, it was the person she was thinking of.
“¡Chile!”
“I thought we were way past using our country names.”
The Chilean looked down at her, moving his hands away. Costa Rica felt herself become embarrassed by the slip up, mentally cursing herself for it. Hoping the two coffee addicts were too busy arguing to notice, she smiled at him as if nothing happened.
“Sorry Adriano, I was dozing off. You scared me a little. Did you need something?”
“Do I need a reason to talk to you?”
She started to giggle nervously, shaking her head and trying to stop smiling so hard. Curse her hopeless romantic tendencies!!! He’s literally a Chilean, why does she find him cute? He stared at her for a moment, the corner of his lip raising. He told himself it was just because she had a contagious laugh, nothing more. A pretty, contagious laugh.
As the two awkwardly continued their conversation, the two at the table were watching the whole thing. Why would you do this in front of a Colombian and Brazilian? They stood up and walked away quietly, before smiling at each other. At that moment, they shared the exact same thought.
“Oh they are so into each other.”
While one Central American was having the time of her life, the others…were not. Mainly because Nicaragua started arguing with Mexico, and got Guatemala involved. This made Honduras step in, leading him to get bitten by Nicaragua. El Salvador joined because he liked stirring trouble. Mexico stepped back, holding a chair in front of him.
“Calm it down, I’m trying to survive this meeting with all my limbs attached. Just because I said I make better tamales than you—”
This made all four stare at him in disbelief and anger (and for Nicaragua, all she was seeing was red), circling around him. Mexico thought he saw his life flash before his eyes before two saviors came to his rescue.
“Rule #43: No Killing!”
Ecuador stood in between them, hands on his hips as he stared directly at them all. Venezuela tried to pry the chair out of Mexico’s hands, having to try several times due to the grip he had on it. The group stood in silence, the tension growing steadily. It wasn’t until Guatemala sighed out and raised his hands in defeat.
“Fine, we won’t kill him…yet.”
Nicaragua smacked the side of his head, glaring at him. He always had to speak for the rest of them, it was just like when they were little. They’re not the United Provinces anymore. And so she said that, redirecting the attention to Guatemala instead of Mexico. This caused the argument to start up again, this time for another reason. Mexico, Ecuador, and Venezuela stood there watching, before Venezuela turned to Mexico and asked:
“Carajo, you live like this?”
The man in question turned to look at the arguing group, along with Ecuador in the middle trying to at least calm them down. He looked back at Venezuela, before shrugging.
“Unfortunately.”
“Fair enough, I argue with Alexio (Brazil) half of the time and I don’t even understand what he says,”
One of the only ones staying peaceful were Bolivia and Peru, and that was mainly because their typical targets were busy elsewhere. The two spoke about their plans while they’re staying in Brazil, their home situations, and typical gossip. It wasn’t until Panama came up to them, slamming his hands onto the table and startling them.
“Hey guys! You looked peaceful over here so I’m disrupting that.”
Peru jolted in his seat while Bolivia moved to grab her cup that almost fell over. There goes that tranquil atmosphere they so little get. Peru squinted up at Panama, who was just smiling at them like he didn’t do anything wrong.
“You need something?”
“I’m a helpful guy, you know. So generous, so thoughtful. I’m helping out with supplies and music, and as someone who values every opinion, I want to know what you’d like for tonight.”
The two sitting down glanced at each other, seemingly forgetting about the party. That wouldn’t have gone well if they really did forget, diplomatic relations could be at stake after all. That’s why Chile never shows up to a party at Bolivia’s house, their relations are practically nonexistent.
Bolivia pulls out a notepad and writes down a list. Ripping the paper out, she slides it to Panama with a smile. He takes it, scanning it over, and salutes them before running off. Peru looks at her in surprise, confused over what she wrote. She practically read his mind as she answered his question.
“I just gave him a list of what we would eat and our favorite songs.”
“You know all that about me?”
“Obviously? I’ve been around you for a long time now, I think it would be embarrassing on my part if I didn’t.”
Peru gushed over her statement, saying how honored he was and that she was so sweet. She laughed in response, and the two went back to their former conversations before they were interrupted.
The meeting ended as it started, with no work done and a mess to clean up. Regardless, everyone looked forward to the party, some with plans of their own and others hoping for good luck to be bestowed upon them. They didn’t know it just yet, but the party would be one of the most iconic ones they’ve ever had.