American Symphony

Familiar

(Yooooo I've been away for a long time but that is okay cause I'm back with a very short chapter. Sorry lol but I hope you guys enjoy this-- just a small plotbunny I had while looking at songs :3 )

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Amelia Jones leaned against the balcony, her arms pressed firmly against the wood as she stared up at the stars. She searched them for answers, for some kind of sign towards what she was supposed to do. 

Arthur just-- he couldn't accept that she wasn't her father. Amelia wasn't Alfred, she could never live up to that kind of persona, she couldn't fill those shoes. 

Alfred had died, and she had been born-- she was America now, and she had no idea what she was doing. 

Hell, she hadn't even known she was a nation until a week prior. Amelia had been happy with her mom and dad and little brother, and these guys managed . to convince her parents that this was what she was supposed to do, that this was her duty.

She missed her mom.

Everyone was frustrated, tired, confused-- Amelia felt so guilty. England looked at her with such longing, such sorrow in his eyes that her heart ached for the elder nation. They tried to help her remember her father's memories, the things he did--

It hadn't worked... it had only been a disappointment. 

She. She had been a disappointment.

Still...  there was something there. She knew this, that there was this spark whenever Matt told her about the adventures he and his brother went on or the escapades France had gotten up to in pursuit of the Western nation. 

And when Arthur talked about him-- there was a sparkle in his eyes, a fiery passion was lit that spoke more than his words ever could. He talked about the strawberry blonde's infuriating plans for global peace, his annoying habits, his overflowing optimism.

She wanted to be like him, wanted to know him like these guys did but...

Amelia sighed, leaning further against the wooden rail. She looked down at the garden, where France, England, and Canada all sat at a round, glass table. They talked quietly, drinking from ceramic mugs and most likely figuring out what to do with her. 

The general consensus from the other nations, after learning of the situation, had been to simply get a diplomat from the Capital to take Alfred's place, rather than rely on some previously-human girl who knew nothing about politics to handle America's affairs.

Matt had been iffy on the idea, while Arthur outright rejected it-- though neither could come up with a better plan in retaliation.

The strawberry blonde leaned against a post, hugging her arms lightly. It wasn't supposed to matter to her-- if they sent her home, she could live out a normal life for the most part, (Apart from the fact that apparently, nations don't age as normal people do) but that could be handled...