Show day 31/12/57:
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UK and USSR were in their seats, surprisingly very close to the stage. They chatted about until orchestral music played for about 3 hours, soothing and sweet yet it was set at quite a low pitch. "Hey UK, how do you feel?" USSR asked, holding his small hand. "Quite.. excited! It seems fun to see a show like this, don't you think?" UK said with glee. He bounced up and down a few times to show his excitement but USSR just sat still with fear. His eye glanced nervously around the room as he clenched with his free hand, his trousers. He used UK's hand to slowly calm down as the show doesn't begin in a while.
UK was in his own dazzling world. The vibrant blue lights shone beautifully by the reflective glass ceiling and the light airy sound of the orchestra echoed by the sound panels hanging above. It felt so beautiful, yet.. incomplete. Something felt missing in his heart. A warmth of some sort, filling him up with joy and happiness yet he doesn't know what. He kicked his legs about as he soon tilted his head towards USSR. His leg was shaking while his fingers were tapping with some feeling of discomfort. His expression was furrowed and quite anxious.
"You okay?" UK asked. That seemed to snap USSR out of his troubled thoughts as he swiftly looked at UK a with widened eyes. "Ah.. uh, yes. Yes I am," he unsurely said, caressing UK's gloved hand. "Are you sure? You seem-" "I said I'm fine UK! Don't worry about it!" USSR snapped, interrupting the shocked British man. "Oh.. if you say so.." he murmured. Hey turned away, pulling his hand off from USSR's hand and placed it on his arm. "I- UK, I didn't mean to shout at you!" USSR apologised. UK mumbled something under his breath but still looked away.
"UK? Is that you, friend?" a voice called out from behind the pair. It was very familiar to the British man but he couldn't put a finger on it. USSR looked behind and saw Portugal trying to catch the attention of the country. "Hey uh.. Portugal?" USSR said, looking perplexed at the ecstatic country. "Oh.. Hi.," he murmured. "Look, I'm not going to say anything but UK had a little injury that made him forget most things, so expect him to not remember-" "Portugal? Is that you?" UK asked. Portugal smirked. "Ah yes, having an alliance for over 200 years with him and his father is benefiting," he chuckled. USSR grumbled as he turned away, leaving the best friends talking to one another.
"So, UK! How have you been?" Portugal asked, leaning in between the gap of the seats. "I'm good! You?" UK asked. "Oh I'm great! Quite excited for this show. Yet France is quite an interesting country to see on a stage.." Portugal replied, lowering his voice a little due to the country next to him being a French colony. "France? Uhh.. who is she?" UK asked once more. Portugal clicked his tongue as he muttered to himself in his native tongue. "France is a country who likes to uh.. use people.." he whispered. "Ohhh, makes sense why people don't seem to like her.." UK said, catching the attention of the French colony. Portugal bit his lip as the colony stared that the pair with dislike.
"France? You know I heard everything you said, right?" she said, pushing her hair out of the way. "Oh, we're sorry Côte d'Ivoire. We just don't have this liking for France," Portugal answered. "Ah, makes sense. But please.. if she hears you say that, you know she'll come after you again," Ivory Coast said lightly, having a slight tremble slip through her mouth. She was very shy. "Yeah...Thanks for that. Let's just change topics now should we UK?" It doesn't seem UK was listening. He was facing USSR with small sadness in his face. "I guess he's busy. We could talk?" Portugal announced. Ivory (that's her nickname) jumped a little at the sudden voice but calmed down and nodded.
With UK and USSR, they just stared at each other. Not a word passed through their lips and not a sound of any grumble or murmur came from the two either. USSR shuffled in his seat a little to face UK properly and bent down to reach his height. "UK.. I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to snap at you or anything I just wasn't feeling right," USSR mumbled. He sounded weak, and desperate for some sort of comfort. UK knew this. He thought for a few moments before pulling USSR into a hug. USSR just let his large arms wrap back at the country with a sweet touch on the back. "I'm sorry, I really am. I should've just left you, I shouldn't have hurt you. At all.." he whimpered upsettingly. UK patted USSR on the head, despite his ushanka being on. "There there.. I forgive you.." UK murmured softly. Sniffles spilled through USSR's nose as he hugged tighter.
A loud microphone squeak came to life. A nicely dressed man stood proud on the stage with a flash card in his hand. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the show of our proudest dance movement! Here, tonight, we will fill your emotions with love and desire, you shall sway your heads to the smooth sounds of our orchestra.. and you shall be desired and destined for our performance of... THE NUTCRACKER! I present to you all.. France! Let's give her a round of applause!" he announced.
The curtains of the stage drew apart and when France was on the stage something clicked in.
"NO! I OBJECT!"
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Words: 945
YOU ARE READING
Follow my steps //SovBrit
Historical FictionInto the depths of one of the Coldest cities of the USSR, UK finds himself embarking a new story in the land. But after the incident, who is bound to save UK from falling into the traps of lost memory and saving his career from forever being lost?
