AN: New story! This time it's DenNor! Eeeee~
First time writing a lot of these characters but I'll get the hang of it. Denmark is especially fun to figure out.
I chose Berg Huizinga as Netherland's "human" name. I actually have a teacher with the last name Huizinga, her family is Dutch.

1 - Down On My Luck

Dear Mr. Køhler,

Due to our circumstances, we no longer require your services. We apologize for this inconvenience and wish you the best of luck. Please vacate the premises as soon as possible.


Goldstar Electronics, Inc.

Mathias read the letter once when he got it, twice when he was packing up the contents of his cubicle into a plastic milk crate, and three more times when he was sitting in his beat-up sedan with the milk crate in the passenger seat.

He'd been fired.

He couldn't believe it.

Twenty-five and already out of a job.

Snarling, he crumpled the letter into a tight ball and tossed in with the rest of his stuff. He couldn't believe that Goldstar Electronics, the company he had so faithfully worked for since he was out of college and interned at when he was in high school, had the audacity, the effrontery, the very balls to fire him after all his hard work. As he started the engine, the had urge to ram his dingy car into his boss's shiny black Mercedes. Not that it would do anything to change his situation, it would just make him feel a hell of a lot better.

But then again, so would a good beer.

Mentally kicking himself for being such a depressing pussy, he went for the beer.


Driving home drunk was not the safest idea in the world, but at least Mathias was able to get himself home in one piece. Not that he would have minded if he had died... Drinking always turned him into a depressing wreck of a man, and now that he had lost his job, so many of his other life tragedies had made themselves evident. He lived in a shitty apartment where he could hear his neighbors humping through the thin walls. The smell of mold came from the ceiling. He was two months behind on his rent and could barely even support himself, and now he had no source of income. Maybe going out for a beer was a bad idea.

Mathias stumbled through the door, kicking it behind him, and into his room, where he collapsed on the tiny twin bed without even bothering to take off his work clothes.

My life is fucking over now.

Then the fuzz seeped in from the edges of his brain, sending his conscious into blackness.


He awoke promptly at 6:30 AM, his alarm still set for work. He leapt out of bed, wincing at the throbbing pain in his head and was halfway to the closet to find clean clothes to dress for work when he remembered that there was no work anymore, at least for him. He was officially unemployed.

The sinking feeling of depression settled into his gut again, and combined with the royal hangover he was experiencing, forced him back into bed for more sleep.

Three hours later, he was jarred from his rest once again by a sharp rapping at his door. He straightened his clothes and raked a hand through his wild blond hair in a meager effort to appear presentable, and answered the door. Standing before him with a scowl on his face was Berg Huizinga, a tall Dutch man with a scar above his right brow and who used so much hair gel that his mousy hair literally stood on end. A lit cigarette dangled between those frowning lips, and he glared at Mathias coldly.

"Hi, Berg, I–"

"Why haven't you answered my texts?" Berg asked abruptly.

"Well, I was–"

"You drunk yourself shitless, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I did, but–"

"Did you get laid off?"

Mathias nodded slowly, eyes cast on the ground. "Yeah. I did." Solemnly, he motioned for Berg to come in and sit on the ratty couch in the main space of the apartment. Mathias himself went to the attached kitchen, separated from Berg only by a half-wall, to pour himself a bowl of cereal. "Could you not smoke when you're here?" he asked, "The Landlord keeps finding ashes in the hallway leading to my place and bitches me out for it."

Berg simply gave a grunt and stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray on Mathias's end table as he returned to the living room with his cereal.

As strange as he was, Berg Huizinga was Mathias's best friend and had been since college. A laid-back man who smoked a lot and said very little, Mathias stuck close to him because of his alcohol tolerance and penchant for giving good advice.

"So you lost your job," Berg said bluntly.

Mathias nearly choked on his cereal. He could do without the biting honesty, though.

"Your life isn't over, Mathias," Berg continued, thumping his friend on the back. "Just get another one."

Mathias swallowed his cereal and looked at his friend. "In this economy?" he spat, "I might as well learn to fly."

"You're always irritable and closed-minded when you're hung over," Berg said, "Even if it's just a part-time job, get one. You need the money."

And then sometimes, Berg's biting honesty was just what Mathias needed.

"A little money coming in is better than no money," Berg continued.

"Okay, okay. I'll look for a job." Mathias scarfed down the rest of his cereal and plunked his bowl on the end table.


"Fine. Today."


Berg left Mathias's apartment to continue with his day, leaving his friend a copy of the local unemployment magazine. Mathias leaned back on the worn couch, flipping lazily through the magazine. None of these jobs compared to his old one, but he had to take Berg's advice if he wanted to survive.

Thus, his first day of unemployment was spent looking for a new job.

AN: Unlike my last long fic, Technological Romance, I don't have everything written out beforehand, so updates will be slower.

Thanks for reading! 3