AN: Hello~! As you may have noticed, this is my first Fanfiction! Well, technically it isn't, but it is the first Hetalia Fanfiction I've posted! I used to write Death Note but I think I like Hetalia better :3 But anyways! I guess I've decided to take a risk here and post a fic mostly centered around ScotEng... I know it's not a very popular pairing, and I don't like the way it's usually written, but I hope you'll give this a chance! I really do like the pairing, just not how it's normally written... So, yeah! I hope you like it! :D There's also some FrUk too!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!

The first day of Hell, Arthur thought to himself with a sigh as he dug through his closet for something suitable to wear. Despite the fact that nobody really cared about what he wore, Arthur was serious about his fashion… God that sounded entirely too gay… Well, not that he wasn't gay, but still… Arthur was serious about the clothes he wore. He made sure that every article of clothing that came near his body was far too tight and ripped in at least three different places. They were uncomfortable, hard to get into and they fucking crushed his balls, but when he looked in the mirror it was always worth it. He loved how he looked in them, he might not go as far as to say he looked sexy but damn he sure did look good. Today he had chosen a pair of red skinny jeans, ripped in several places with a white top to go with it, a faded Union Jack printed on the front. He smiled at himself momentarily in the mirror before quickly running a brush through his hair and grabbing his iPod. Arthur carefully wrapped his ear buds around the iPod, not wanting to deal with the trouble of untangling it later and shoved it into his pocket.

"Artie!" He heard his older brother call from the other room.

"Yeah?" Arthur responded, leaving his room. Allistor was just fixing his tie, about ready to leave for work. Arthur always thought his brother looked strange in a tie, it just… It didn't suit him. It wasn't right.

"God Artie ye should really change out of those damn punk clothes, ye really want to start off the year wearin' that?" Arthur was told, a vaguely annoyed look on his brother's face. Arthur glared, he loved his clothes. There was no way in Hell he would change just to keep his brother happy.

"It's none of your bloody business what I wear!" he said angrily. This wasn't the first comment Allistor had made on Arthur's choice of clothing, but his attempts at getting Arthur to change never ended well, and he had yet to see success. Arthur wore what he wanted.

"Aye, just sayin', ye look more like a whore every day," he commented casually, "anyway, ye want a ride to school?" Arthur gaped.

"What the hell did you just call me?"

"Ye look like a whore. Now do ye want the ride or not? Make it quick I don't want to be late"

"No I don't want a bloody ride! I'm just fine walking thank you very much!" He scoffed bitterly, sending a glare towards his brother as he pulled on his favorite pair of boots.

"Ye sure? It's just on the way to work," he commented as if he hadn't just called his own brother a whore.

"Yes I'm bloody sure!" He yelled, quickly turning to leave. But before he could storm out angrily as he had intended, he felt a hand on his shoulder stopping him. "What the hell do you want?!" Arthur spun around angrily to see his brother holding up his bag. He flushed in embarrassment; in his rage he had almost forgotten his school bag.

"Ye wouldn't want to forget this would ye?" Arthur quickly snatched the bag away from him, muttering a hostile thank you.

"No problem," came his brothers response with the absolutely most enraging hair ruffling Allistor was practically known for. God Arthur hated it so much when his hair was ruffled. It was demeaning. And he did it in the most irritating brotherly way, but it was just so damn… Condescending. He hated it. "See ye later, Artie"

His hand was swatted away by an angry little Brit and he received a sharp "Piss off" before Arthur quickly stormed off to school, glancing down at his clothes to assure himself he did not look like a whore.

Him and his brother didn't live in the best neighborhood, not in the slightest. The walk to school was a fairly long one, cause who in their right mind would build a school near this place. Definitely not a safe place for children… or even adults really. But the walk to school was much better than having to sit through a car ride with Allistor, who apparently thinks his brother is a whore. God that ride would have been awkward. It would have either been a long, deafening silence, or it would have ended in a shouting match that would ultimately end in Arthur walking to school. He wasn't really interested in either option.

Arthur and Allistor's relationship wasn't exactly close… And this past year they've gotten even more distant, Allistor's sent his message across quite clearly by now. He doesn't care about Arthur. He pretends he does from time to time, but Arthur knew better. He may have taken the role of his parent, but… he never even noticed. When Arthur came home, body stained purple with bruises and dark blood dried under his nose, Allistor didn't so much as ask. The nights he would spend sobbing and crying in his room, he was never interrupted. When he returned home still high as the sky, Allistor just greeted him like everything was normal…Yeah, Arthur definitely got the message. But, however disinterested he seemed in Arthur's life… He could sure as hell still yell at him. Normally the two kept each other at a distance, but… when he was mad there was nothing he did better than yell at Arthur for every little mistake he's ever made… It hurt, the list was long.

Sometimes Arthur would wonder what happened to them. They weren't always like this. When they were younger they were so close, but then that changed… It happened slowly, Allistor started spending less time at home and seemed to avoid Arthur more than usual… But it wasn't until the day their mom died that their bond really broke… When he cried that night, there was nobody there to comfort him… He felt so alone, and longed for his big brother to hug him and tell him everything was alright… But it didn't happen…

… But that's the past, it's not important anymore…

Arthur made it to school just as the first bell rung. He wasn't expecting to actually make it school on time, when he got there there were still plenty of stragglers wandering the halls in search of their classrooms. Tenth graders, he assumed. Arthur pulled out a schedule he had folded neatly into his pocket, noticing with distaste that his boots had been caked in mud. Damn rain, it wouldn't let up all night and left mud puddles littered all across the city.

Glancing at his schedule he saw that he had math first period and sighed. At least he knew where the class was, it was his second year at the school and it was the same room he'd been imprisoned in last year. But he usually skipped math, or sometimes just walked out of the class in front of everyone. So, it really wasn't a very effective prison…

He made it to class just after the bell went off, he would've made it sooner but it was all the way across the school, he didn't even have time to stop at his locker. He dropped his stuff on a desk near the back of the class and sat down. Class started a few minutes later, and of course this teacher wasn't one to give you an easy first day, and dove right into the curriculum. Arthur pulled out his iPod, lacking any interest in the algebra written on the board, and with the iPod came the tangled mess that just this morning had been a neatly put away pair of ear buds… Of course. No matter what he does the little twats would always find a way to knot themselves together in a million different places. They must be having some awfully fun party in there. After a few minutes of tugging and fumbling with the cords, along with some cursing under his breath, the ear buds were finally free and found their way easily to the Brit's ears. As usual, Arthur blasted the music as loud as he could without destroying his eardrums. Probably loud enough to thoroughly irritate those around him, but he really didn't care. He hated them all anyway. The point was, it drowned out the sound of the teacher's words. That was the important part.

Arthur reached into his bag, searching around for a minute before coming up empty handed. After a few more moments of searching, he pulled the bag over to him and looked in it himself. His sketchbook wasn't there. He was sure he put it in last night… Well, isn't that just wonderful. He probably left it lying on his bed or something. Damn it was going to be a long day.

He glances up from his bag and to his dismay, notices two figures he had failed to see when he came in. They were talking and laughing, ignoring the lesson just as much as he was. Arthur immediately shrunk down in his desk, even though they didn't seem to notice him yet. One of them was an albino, talking excessively with his loud, German accent and next to him was the stupid French wanker he knew all too well, laughing with his friend. Gilbert and Francis, it wasn't the full Bad Touch Trio, as they had so idiotically named themselves, but it was enough…

Maybe this year they'd leave him alone… But he doubted it. They loved to torment him; he was a favorite target of theirs.

The class ended a bit early, and we were given some time to socialize. But naturally, Arthur doesn't socialize, so instead he starts absently sketching a rose on a lined piece of paper, tuning out the loud American behind him with great difficulty. He had taken out his music, and by this point was regretting it as Alfred the obnoxious idiot's voice was giving him a headache.

"Arthur mon Cher~!" The irritatingly pleasant voice of a certain frog called out to him.

"Sod off," Arthur pulled his stuff together, preparing to get up and walk away, but before he could grab his paper it was picked up and examined by the man in front of him. "Hey! Give that back you bloody wanker!" He shouted, struggling to snatch the paper away from those greedy little hands but to no avail as Francis kept it just out of reach.

"Ah but it's so beautiful~! You're an amazing artist you know~"Francis told him with a smile, one that Arthur could almost believe was genuine. And behind his words, he didn't hear the slightest trace of malice behind them. It almost sounded like he was being… honest. Arthur wasted a few seconds in silent disbelief, before quickly realizing he was being foolish. It was ridiculous to believe Francis was being honest. He was Francis, the prick who had been tormenting him for years, probably a master at the art of lying. He could twist his words to get anything he wanted, and he did. Gilbert and Antonio weren't nearly as bad as him. Those two just throw insults around, along with a few punches. Well… More than a few actually… But Francis… He never laid a hand on Arthur. Or on anyone really. His way was so much more… devious… sly… With a much more lasting effect on the victims. It was more than just words like worthless and faggot, both of which had been permanently intertwined with Arthur's own name, but his were… They were just worse; we can leave it at that…

"Can't you go bother someone else?" Arthur demanded, finally grabbing the paper back from the Frenchman. Why did he have to draw a rose? That's probably what attracted the prick's attention. Francis loved roses. Arthur quickly crumpled the picture in his hands and tossed it to the trashcan, feeling a wave of humiliation as he didn't get anywhere near it and was forced to go pick it up and put it in the garbage. Francis chuckled. In his stupid French way.

"Je m'excuse Arthur, I honestly didn't mean to bother you! I just thought your drawing was so beautiful~ Almost as beautiful as you~!"

… Arthur quickly shot him a glare, "I don't want to hear it you bloody frog," he spat, "I wish people like you would just die," and with that Arthur ditched the class, just as the bell rang. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have any other classes with him.

But naturally, Arthur was not lucky. Far from it actually, the boy was tragically unlucky in almost every aspect. As he made his way to his next class, he actually felt a small spark of excitement. Next was cooking, and if Arthur loved anything, he loved to cook. He did it whenever he got the chance. Although Allistor usually insisted on cooking… Arthur never really understood why. But when he got to the class, he found that little light of excitement was immediately extinguished. There he was, that damn frogface again, invading the class he had been so looking forward to. Antonio was there too, but he seemed distracted flirting with some kid in the tenth grade. Arthur smirked in amusement when the Spaniard was outright shot down by the feisty little Italian. But for that class, because Arthur was just so damn lucky, he ended up in a group with the Frenchman. The rest of the cooking class was spent trying to ignore the insistent twat. It wasn't easy.

"That bloody teacher hasn't the slightest clue what he's doing!" Arthur fumed, violently dropping his lunch next to the boy at the nearly empty lunch table, causing him to flinch. Arthur took the seat next to him, not noticing.

"Uh… W-who…?" The boy stuttered quietly, glancing to Arthur.

"Mr. Adnan! He had the nerve to tell me I can't cook! ME! I bet he's just jealous! He's jealous because his own student can cook better than he can! Damn wanker!" The Brit complained, knowing that his cooking skills are were far superior. And his food sure as hell did not taste like vomit! "I heard he has a thing with that guy from Greece," Arthur said after swallowing a mouthful of his lunch, "hopefully the wanker will be fired. Then this stupid school can get a teacher that actually knows what bloody good cooking is!" The Canadian boy just nodded, poking at his lunch with a fork. He had gotten used to Arthur's rants and had learned to just wait them out. He also didn't find it worth mentioning that Arthur's cooking really did taste like vomit… And that was being generous; vomit would probably be a preferable option…

"And that stupid bloody frog hasn't left me alone all day! He's just been following me around like a damn lost puppy! If he thinks we're friends now the bastard is dead wrong, I would never be friends with someone like him. And he can't just go around complimenting me all day; I know he doesn't even mean it! He's just trying to play with me like the stupid asshole he is!" Arthur had to stop his rant at this point, as he couldn't remember when he last took a breath. His eyes were fixed on the Frenchman across the room, gaze full of hatred and he seemed about ready to murder the guy.

"Yeah… He's, uh… He's pretty mean…" Matthew commented, even though he was one of the few people who hadn't felt the wrath of the infamous Bad Touch Trio. He knew of it, he'd seen it, but… They seemed almost indifferent to Matthew… Just like, well, everyone else… He was never bothered. Not ever, and well… That actually bothered him more than he would admit…

"Oh, he's more than just mean! He's an evil, sadistic, idiotic, disgusting, perverted-"

"Bonjour~!" The blond man smiled as he interrupted Arthur's rant, taking the seat across from him, "I see you're talking about me~?"

"Sod off!" Arthur yelled, standing up angrily and letting out a small grunt of pain as he had gotten up a bit too hastily and hit his leg on the table.

"Oh but mon petit lapin! There's no need-"

"I'm not your little fucking rabbit you git! Just leave me the hell alone!" He almost screamed and stormed away, slightly disgusted at his own knowledge of the French language. He wasn't interested in spending the next few hours avoiding the damn frog that just won't leave him the hell alone, so instead he picks the better option and decides to just return home early. Francis just sighed and went back to his friends, but by no means does that mean he was giving up. Francis wasn't one to let himself lose, and he knew that soon enough he'd get what he wanted. And Matthew, forgotten at the table, choked down a bite or two of his food before it just ended up in the garbage. Probably where he belonged too.

AN: So, what did you guys think? :3 If people like it I'll be posting a new chapter soon... So please review! I'd love to know what you think! :) I apologize that I made the Bad Trio seem like dicks by the way, I do love them a lot and they won't stay like that forever, promise!