Morning came fast as mornings do, faster than one would've liked. Soon I found myself being hairbrushed by Vati, who was attempting to make two same braids and failing miserably. After fifteen minutes he decided "screw it" and just tied the ribbon on the top of my head while Papa experimented with some hair gel he found in the bathroom. That lead to other issues and that's the story of how we were late for breakfast.

We were supposed to meet up with Uncle Prussia, being only a room away, but apparently food was way more important to him. Can I blame him? Absolutely not.

When we arrived, we were greeted by a cheerful voice of Uncle Spain, telling us to go sit with them. That's what we did - after we checked that Uncle Prussia has already arrived as well and didn't get lost like last time. He was sitting next to Canada and Fred, telling them some funny story, as Fred's face was absolutely hilarious - he looked like he was trying hard not to laugh and therefore choke on food, as he kept practically inhaling one muffin after another, but failing. You can do it! I supported him in my mind.

I sat down next to my cousin dearest. He let out a sound that I took as a greeting, since he had his mouth full. I nodded and took some food on my plate as well.

As expected, the Americans have started with a big bang. Almost literally. When we were sitting at the breakfast with many other nations that arrived yesterday, the big ass main door swung open with what could be described as something between a "crash", "bang" and "thump" to reveal Ashleigh in all her glory.

"Gooooood morning, world!" she said ethuastically (Gott, I hope I spelled that right), flashing her bright smile.

"It's totally amazing to greet y'all in the great US of A! Where the bald eagles screech good morning! I hope you'll enjoy the visit and if there's anything me and Pops could do for you, let us know! You're expected at 10 in the room where it happens, so don't be late!"

I heard a whisper of "Comes from the daughter of a git that's almost always late himself," in British accent across the tables.

Ashleigh, however, did not catch that, and even if she did, she'd just criticize the pessimism.

"Well, that gives you about.." she checked her phone "an hour and a half. Well, it's been my pleasure, but I gotta go now! Enjoy the food! Especially the bagels! I love the bagels! See ya there!"

And she made her way out, bowing and finger-gunning.

"Americans," grumped Gabriel next to me with a mouth full of food. "I gotta give her some credit tho," he swallowed. "These bagels are fuckin good."

"Did you know bagels were originally from my fabulous country?" a high-pitched voice chimed in. I could almost hear Vati internally groan.

So I just kept shoving food in my mouth like Gabe to my right, and Fred two tables away. I could also almost see George's disgusted face and his rosed brow, though he was seated further away at a different table.

"Hey Grissy, Gabriel! Let's have a competition who can stuff more muffins in their mouth!" A voice suddenly yelled.

Me and Gabe looked at each other and at him, meeting the red eyes of our challenger. The Canadian rose his eyebrows and smirked.

"OH IT'S ON, BITCH!" Gabe yelled in response, smirking as well. Fred was going down!

Our parents looked at each other and collectively sighed. Well except for Uncle Prussia, who started cheering "SLAY THEM WITH YOUR AWESOMENESS!"

I f***ing love my Uncles.

We arrived in the so-called "room, where it happens" thirty minutes early because Vati. Well, we weren't the first though. Switzerland was sitting in his chair, sunglasses on, reading a newspaper. That is basically him in all the world wars, I swear.

After some time, people slowly started to pour in. Ashleigh greeted people, making small talk and showing them around, where the toilets and the coffee machine are, stuff like that. She really took her role as the host seriously.

Until Mr England and George walked in, that is. Firstly she couldn't stop herself from mumbling "It's Britain, bitch" to the tune of the Britney Spears theme, then tried not to maniacally laugh, and then furiously blushed upon hearing George laugh with her. Mr France winked at them, causing Ash to go up to 8th degree of red and George to shoot his COUGHgiganticCOUGH eyebrows up to his hairline. England smacked the back of France's head.

This is already an emotional rollercoaster and we haven't even started.

The squad was complete with the Nordics. A "bang" could be heard on the opposite side of the door, followed by "owch!" and what I assumed were curses in faroese. A heartbeat of silence and then...

"Moments like this I remember you lived with Denmark."

"Yes, bro!"

"...DO YOU HEAR THAT, ICELAND?!"

"...I'M NOT CALLING YOU THAT!!"

"Aw, Norge!"

"Shut up."

"My brother says sod o-"

"Sealand nO."

"I HATE THIS FUCKING FAMILY!"

"Ha, same.."

"Guys, can we not fi-"

"Mm."

"God. Shitting. Dammit. Just open the door!"

The door was opened and they all walked in, Denmark in the lead, holding Lars' hand, who held his sister's hand. Ingrid looked so done with this world. Behind them were Norway with the same expression as his daughter, Iceland, loud Faroe with quiet Greenland, Sweden and Finland, holding Sealand's hand. Peter (as he said I could call him) was skipping happily with a smiley expression, much unlike Ladonia, who followed suit. The last was Anni, holding Hanatamago with one hand while trying to smooth some of Ladonia's hair with the other like the big sister of the two that she is.

"Alright! The gang's all here!" exclaimed a loud, cheerful, confident voice, belonging to the host nation. And sure enough, there he was.

I started counting the minutes from now on to see just how fast will shit go down.

_____________________

Now they're all together! Shenenigans ensue! 

Up next: some untraditional sightseeing, probably

From the diary of Griselda Vargas-BeilschmidtWhere stories live. Discover now