Matador Chapter 1
Blood and tears
Dragging the man through the stands was bad enough, but taking him to see him was a whole other world of pain. It had been a few months since the brown haired Italian man had broken up with the Spaniard. "Damn it brother!" the Italian shouted, "Why are we here?! You know I hate him." The younger Italian looked up kindly, "Ve~ but i'm still his friend, Romano!" The older brother looked down, hatred in his eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Romano?! It's Lovino you bastard..."
A few minutes later they had found some seats up in front so they could see everything. "Hey brother, when do you think Antonio will come out?" He sure moved a lot. Bouncing excitedly in his seat like an excited school girl. "I don't know, hopefully he won't come out at all..." As the younger Italian was about to speak the announcer started talking excitedly, "Bienvenidos señoras y señores! Estamos orgullosos de presentar el concurso 2011 Matador de México! En primer lugar, es José Fernández! Ofrece un gran aplauso para él!" The crowd went wild as the proud Mexican stepped into the ring, dawning his bright outfit, and stepped proudly into the center of the ring, quickly waving to the crowd, sending them into a frenzy of cheers.
"This is gonna take forever! Can someone he get slaughtered all ready so we can leave-" Romano looked over to see a small boy in traditional Mexican clothing sitting next to him.
" José es mi padre." Said the small boy, as tears fill his eyes.
"Oh jeez, I didn't know that. Um.." Romano stuttered awkwardly. The child was snatched up, by the mother apparently. "Descrasia!" She stormed off abruptly, to find another seat perhaps.
"Looks like i'm already pissing someone off today." He acquired a smug look on his face while he starred blankly into the ring.
The man by the name of " José" was actually pretty good in the ring, At least his huge ass ego fit in there with him. He dodged and danced, twirling and jumping gracefully around the bull, stabbing spears into it's shoulder, the spears hung like colorful talismans from it's bloody back. "jaja muy bueno jose! Bien el lado de..."
As the rounds progressed in what seemed to be ages, Romano started drifting off to sleep as his brother cheerily sat there and cheered for the Mexican competitors. Finally, the crowd roared in a happy frenzy as the last competitor was announced. "Y por último pero no menos importante, todo el camino de España, aquí en nuestra tierra preciosa no es otro que Antonio Fernández Carriedo!"
Romano was jolted awake by his brother's excited nudging ans whining "Ve~! Brother! Wake up it's Antonio!" Romano sat up groggily and looked around, rubbing his eyes. "What? Where are we again?" he thought, he gazed down wearily and in the ring he took gaze upon a familiar looking man. As his eyes cleared up, he realized who this strange man was. It was Antonio.
To Romano's surprise he danced with grace, spearing the bull repeatedly, in this contest, first person to spear the bull ten times in eight minutes won the competition. Spain continued to strafe around the raging bull like a graceful swan on a lake. "Why is that tomato bastard such a show off?" Romano sulked about how it was himself who screwed up the relationship. It was all him.
"Oh, Dios mío! Antonio ha sido capturado por el toro! Llamar a los paramédicos! rápidamente rápidamente!" The announcer screamed loudly as the crowd went wild in a horrific frenzy, covering the eyes of their young ones as they shouted in Spanish. Romano jolted onto his feet as her pushed over people in front of him as he ran over the edge to get a closer look. He got to the edge and grabbed the railing so as not to fall into the ring. Antonio was only the ground, bleeding, lifeless... Romano's brother, Feliciano, ran over sobbing, and hugged him as tight as he could. "This is all my fault." Romano's eyes filled with tears as he leaned over, wrapping his arms around his weeping brother. "Antonio."
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