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“Hey man, you'll probably never hear this because I'm awesome and amazing and answer all my calls and blah blah blah but if you do I'm not here right now!!! Tough luck dude.”
“Damn it Alfred.” Matthew muttered, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He knew it was to be expected, considering Alfred didn't come out with them to drink, meaning he must have stayed at home and slept in or whatever.
He should have expected them to forget him here.
Matthew shoved his hands in his pocket next, looking around the block for a bus. Of course they'd forget him, he was just so forgettable wasn't he?
Ever since they were children, it's always just been him in the background. Like that one time Dad and Papa forgot him at the park, just at six years old. He thought he could have died out there, but years later Matthew realized that he wasn't anywhere near dying by the time they remembered him. He was just scared, alone, and wasn't yet used to the fact that this would become an often thing. Like a year later, when he got forgotten in the rain at the bus stop even though he was clearly there, he realized the truth.
He was the glass child.
He'd never be good like Alfred. He could play hockey, the one thing he was good at, but he couldn't multitask with his grades like Alfred always did with baseball. Even now, long past graduation which Matthew had to practically claw his way through, Alfred was doing so much better than he was. Even though the others tried to stay in touch, he could tell that sometimes they wanted his brother more than him.
People like Feliciano didn't try to do it on purpose, but people like Ivan didn't even seem to notice. Which was better than not caring, but still. This time however, it seemed not even Feliciano was sober enough to remember him.
Which meant he was supposed to be the driver, but since he was here he could all but pray they made it home in one piece.
Home…is there a bus that stops walking distance from his house? He could go check.
Taking the bus was something Matthew used to adapt to, considering how often his parents forgot to pick him up after hockey practice. Eventually, he scraped enough money to buy his own car and while his parents had been shocked at first he could tell they were somewhat…proud. Just for a second. That felt good, but eventually it wore off as Matthew drove everywhere in silence. No longer a burden.
It's not that they tried to forget him, and he appreciated them for that. But it got so tiring, not knowing whether or not your parents would even remember you or if they were too busy paying attention to your much better brother.
And Alfred….
To his brother's credit, he truly did try to include Matthew in things. When he'd go out, Matthew just had to come with him. When his parents would order takeout and forget to grab some for Matthew, Alfred would have absolutely no problem splitting his. Which meant a lot, because it was Alfred of all people. He sympathized with the situation, but he'd never truly understand it. Alfred was the sun, he would always shadow Matthew.
Thankfully, he found a bus nearby. It only took about 30 minutes of waiting in the cold, but by then Matthew was pissed. He didn't usually get mad, just subjecting himself to the constant disremembrance with little complaint, but was it seriously that hard? Was it that hard to just do a quick headcount? Now here he was, in the freezing cold.
By the time the bus was there, his irritation was gone. Perhaps even frozen off. He waited for everyone to get on, one by one. Old ladies, mothers, children, men coming back to their families after a long day at work and vice versa..
And then he took a step forward, and the bus doors shut in his face.
Shit.
Matthew watched the bus drive off without him, feeling his hands shake slightly. Whether out of anger or the sheer fucking wind blowing in his face, Matthew felt something.
Defeat.
This went way farther than his parents, his friends, this extended to people around him. He was so invisible, not even the crowd could notice him. He didn't blend in, he was never even there to begin with.
Matthew made his slow trudge back to the bar after he looked at the bus schedule, the one that read another hour till the next bus came. He sure as hell wasn't gonna wait out here in the cold, and he definitely was gonna fuck over those old women and enter the bus first.
When he opened the door to the bar, he realized the place was absolutely packed now. Seriously, what had happened in the last half an hour?
Matthew looked around, taking a full lap around until he found a seat. The guy sitting right next to it at the bar seemed…. familiar? Had he met him before? Maybe….around Al. Yeah, this was a friend of Alfred's? His name was pretty similar to…
“Mathias?” Matthew asked, sitting next to him. The man turned over and then grinned immediately.
“Matthew! Hey, what’re you doing here?”
Oh. Oh my god. Does he remember Matthew's name? He's never met someone that's actually remembered him on a whim, especially not someone he's barely had a full conversation with. A mutual friend, honestly. Now he felt bad for almost forgetting Mathias’s name.
“The others forgot me here.” Matthew shrugged. And then he looked down at the paper Mathias had in front of him on the bar table. And a lot of paper flags in his hand.
When he saw Matthew's eyebrow raise curiously, Mathias chuckled sheepishly. “Brother’s got a geography project due. I told him I'd do it for him, since he wanted to help our mother with some stuff.” He looked around once, at the now bustling bar. “I work better in the noise.” He admitted.
Matthew smiled softly back at him, and Mathias's eyebrows furrowed. “Whaddaya mean they forgot you here?”
“Oh, they do that. I'm waiting for the next bus home.”
Mathias melted into a sympathetic look, one that Matthew usually hated. It's the same look his parents gave him when they forgot him at school. “It's fine, really. I'm used to it.”
“Well, that won't do. Come, I'll drive you home.”
Matthew blinked once, the proposal surprising him for a second. And then he waved up his hands.
“No, no! I'll catch the bus Mathias I-”
“No, I insist.”
He caught Mathias's eyes, and saw that the man was leaving absolutely no room for argument and surrendered. “I- fine…but I'm going to wait till you finish your assignment and drink and then we go.” He stated firmly.
Mathias grinned, and then turned to the bartender and flagged him down.
He ordered some whiskey, offering the same to Matthew who almost refused. But he was cold, slightly pissed still, and somewhat embarrassed he was even here so he agreed. Slightly different a whiskey coke.
Still didn't stop Mathias from glaring at him when he tried to pay for himself.
“You're being too nice.” Matthew tried to insist. “It's fine, I have my wallet.”
“Nonsense.” Mathias replied, tone clipped. “It seemed everyone already forgot you here, I'm just cheering you up. Actually, I'm surprised you aren't more bummed out.”
Matthew sighed as the bartender swiftly placed their drinks in front of them. “Like I said, I'm used to it.” He almost left it there before he tapped Mathias on the shoulder.
“Hm?”
“That's not where Canada goes.” Matthew told him, pointing to the map and then at the flag right where Mathias placed it. “You're a bit off.”
Matthew reached over and moved the flag to the to right place. “There.”
Mathias chuckled, turning up to look up at Matthew. “Bit of a geography whiz aren't you?” He asked, and Matthew just shook his head modestly.
“Nah, I just did a lot of school projects on Canada. A lot. It had the least conflict.”
“Fair.”
Matthew reached over to the drinks, and realized that there was only one. “Shoot.” He muttered.
“What happened?”
“Uh, only one drink.” He looked at the glass, furrowing his eyebrows. “I dunno whose it is.”
Mathias looked over for the bartender, on the opposite side of the bar. He shrugged. “Oh well, I'll ask when he comes back around.” And then he turns back to the drink.
Neither of them know who it belongs to. “You got a whiskey coke, yes?” Mathias asked, and when Matthew nodded he grinned and help up one of the flags he had in front of him. Denmark.
“I think this one's mine.” He says casually, placing the toothpick in the drink. Matthew rolls his eyes and grins.
“Actually, I think it's mine.” He said, grabbing the Canadian flag and placing it in the drink as he knocked out Mathias's flag gently. When the other raised an eyebrow, he laughed.
“I lied, we used to live in Canada up until like 4th grade. We just tell everyone we've lived here forever.”
Mathias nodded in understanding, and then flicked out Canada's flag. “Nah, think it's mine.” He muttered, placing his flag back in.
They kept up the little banter until finally, both their flags sat in the glass and Mathias just snatched up the drink and took a sip. Matthew watched with his hands propped up on his chin.
Mathias kept his face stoic, and slowly placed down the glass and knocked out his own flag. Matthew broke into a grin.
“Yes!” He exclaimed, immediately wincing when at least 5 people turned to him. “Sorry, I dunno why I got so excited.” He muttered, cheeks slightly red as he took the glass and stole a sip. He tried to ignore the fact he forgot to drink from the other side.
Mathias just chuckled. “Nah, it's cute.” He says casually, holding up a hand and flagging down the bartender. Matthew felt his cheeks burn up again and then took another sip. The glass distinctly tasted like strawberries.
It was after they finished their drinks, and eventually left the bar that Mathias made his move.
As they climbed into the car, Mathias sat in the driver's seat and frowned. Matthew noticed immediately.
“Something wrong?” He asked, as Mathias started the car. Mathias just sighed.
“It's past midnight, has nobody noticed you aren't home?”
Matthew sunk into his seat, face morphing into somewhat defeat. “I…this happens a lot. Like I said. I think everyone's sleeping by now.”
“They didn't even text? Call to ask where you are?”
Matthew fished his phone out of his pocket and opened it, shaking his head. “Nope.”
“That sucks.”
They drove in silence for a couple of minutes, Mathias knowing where their house was from the times he visited Alfred.
“You know, I think you're a lot different from your brother.” He said suddenly, breaking the silence. “You have your own personality. You're shy at first, but then once you break out you get….sarcastic, witty.”
Those are not two words Matthew would use to describe himself.
“I…personality is more of an Alfred thing.” Matthew spat out, feeling just a bit irritated. “I just do nothing. Sit in the corner and look pretty, and nobody even notices that.”
Mathias frowns at him as Matthew goes off on his mini rant, replaying ever moment he's been brushed aside or forgotten in the last few years. Eventually, Matthew calms down and slowly starts to feel guilty for his outburst.
“Sorry.” He mutters, and Mathias just waved a hand off of his wheel.
“It's fine.” He replies. And then they wait a couple of seconds before he breaks the silence again. “I noticed that. You sitting there and looking pretty.” He mumbled. Matthew straightened up, but only slightly. Mathias continued.
“I don't know if anybody else did, but I did. I thought you were Alfred when I first saw you, but I noticed you weren't immediately.” He looked off the road and at Matthew just briefly. “Cuz of your eyes. They were really purple.”
He left it there, and Matthew immediately felt….something. Something. He felt….seen.
Mathias stopped the car right in front of Matthew's house, and sure enough the lights were all off. The entire house was asleep without him. Matthew looked rather used to it, slowly climbing out as he profusely thanked Mathias.
“Wait.” Mathias called after him, rummaging through his coat pocket and pulling out something.
A Canadian flag.
He reached across the passenger seat and clipped in in front of Matthew's coat, smiling at him.
“Night, Canada.”
Matthew looked down at the flag, and then up at Mathias, and grinned. He made his way to the front of the house as he watched the car drive away, pulling out his keys.
Matthew Bonnefoy-Kirkland wasn't a man with many friends. But today, he had at least one more.
—------------
Hans Island: 1985
Canada trudged through the sand, light jacket on in spite of the wind. He held a small flag in his hand, blowing back and forth in the wind as he approached the table.
He took a hand and flicked the other flag that was sitting right next to the whiskey bottle off the table. Denmark.
He placed down his flag and smiled.
For every world war, civil war, and revolution that Canada has witnessed in the centuries he's been alive; he could get behind this.