Really enjoying my time off school, guys. Like, I'm really digging this.

Anyway, hope this isn't total shit!

For anyone not familiar with my other stories, they tend to jump around a lot between time and place. Jumps in the timeline will be marked with this symbol here:

~oOo~

Jumps within the same timeline will be marked by a horizontal line.

Alright, enough procrastinating!

Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep!

After maybe thirty seconds of incessant beeping, a hand emerges from under the heavy blankets, fumbling around for the phone resting beside a drool-stained pillow. It presses a button on the side of the phone, stopping the device's shrill cry.

A head of disheveled auburn hair follows the hand out of the blanket, green eyes blinking blearily at the screen.

7:00

The boy lets out a great yawn, sprawling out across his well-worn mattress as he stretches.

One hand opens the news app on his phone, while the other feels around for the pair of glasses that had gotten lost somewhere in the nightstand drawer. Once the world comes into focus behind the glass, he spends a few minutes still bundled in blankets, idly scrolling through the (gratefully) uneventful news stories on his feed that morning.

Those stupid dreams again, he complains inwardly, while he not-quite pays attention to what he's skimming through. What's the point, even?

Wearing nothing but his boxers, he heads out onto the balcony, lighting a cigarette on the way and squinting as the sun makes its relentless climb over the Los Angeles skyline. The nicotine lifts the fog off his mind, but can't really take away the distant voice that still calls at him from a lifetime a million years ago, mingling with the acrid smoke that fills his lungs.

"C'mon, Matt! I'm bored! Turn off the damn game and let's go outside already!"

"Matt! Pay attention to me already, will ya?"

"...Hey, Matt? I...I think I love you."

"Yeah right," he grumbles to himself, shoving the glowing end of his cigarette onto the railing. It extinguishes with a faint hiss; he flicks it away mindlessly on his way back inside.

Matt grabs what he's at least pretty sure is a clean shirt, and throws on a pair of jeans he's pretty sure aren't. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he boots up his laptop, cracking open a can of energy drink to serve as his breakfast while he waits the small eternity it takes for the VPN to connect.

-He's trying very hard not to think about the lilting voice that still echoes in his head. About the sharp blue eyes and soft blond hair and pretty face that, after all these years, still haunts his dreams. About the name that, every once in awhile, still passes through his lips before he can stop it.

"...Mello…"

But he can't let himself dwell on that too much, right now. He's got more immediate matters on his mind.

Like shutting down this one pro-Kira website and making next month's rent. Do it before eight, get double the money.

It's an easy enough job, he supposes- though he's not sure why someone would offer to pay so much just for taking down a single website. But that's neither here nor there, Matt isn't the type to ask too many questions when someone's offering him money.

Besides- he wasn't gonna pass up an opportunity to fuck with the stupid people always lining up to suck Kira's dick.

As for the website itself, it proudly displayed the names, faces, and addresses of people Matt assumes the site's users don't like, with accompanying captions like Lord Kira, please punish them.

Morons.

Matt should have the entire website shut down and scrubbed clean well before his deadline. Easy enough; though he supposes that, if Kira actually monitors sites like these, Kira is also smart enough to take screenshots, so he's not sure it'll do more than annoy some people.

(Annoying people is pretty fun, though.)

While his laptop parses out the code, he switches on his trusty old handheld game console to kill some time.

~oOo~

"Near!"

The tiny boy in white pajamas doesn't even turn his head away from the tower of dice he's building on his bedroom floor. Doesn't so much as make a sound of acknowledgement.

Teeth gritted, fists clenched, Matt bites back a sob.

"...Did you even try to get him to stay?!" he demands.

No response but the click click click of dice stacking on top of each other.

"Did you even say anything to him?! Or did you just let him walk out like it's not a big deal?!"

Still nothing.

"So you're just gonna blow me off, huh?!"

Matt finds his voice growing ever louder, until he's shouting at Near's back in frustration.

"You're a damn coward! Can't even look at me after you just let him leave!

Near still doesn't say a word, but he stops stacking dice, reaching to fiddle with a wisp of curly white hair.

"Fuck you," Matt spits, before storming out, slamming the door so hard the entire wall rattles.

The ever-watchful bell of Wammy's House dutifully chimes out the hour- eight o'clock. Normally, at this time of day, Mello would be tugging on his arm, whining that he's starving, and they should get breakfast before classes started. But instead of that, he's half-walking, half-stumbling through the halls alone, catching confused and concerned glances from everyone he passes.

His hands are shaking so badly he has a hard time getting into his own bedroom.

He throws himself across his bed, buries his face in his pillow, and screams.

~oOo~

At exactly seven fifty-three, Matt wraps up his work. Anybody trying to access the website would only be greeted by a mildly obnoxious music video.

He pulls out his phone, and texts the link to the website to the number that offered him the job.

After a few minutes, his phone vibrates.

-A fucking Rickroll? Really?

Matt snorts, and types back.

Is that a problem?

-not particularly. It's just stupid.

A brief pause.

-I've got a place you can meet me to get your money.

Matt raises an eyebrow.

We aren't doing it digital?

-Nah, I like handling things in person. Is that gonna be a problem?

Matt mulls it over in his head for awhile.

Alright that's fine. Where are we meeting?

The person on the other end sends him the address of a bar on the other side of town, along with a time. Matt is a little irked at having to leave his apartment, on top of having to get up early to get this job done. But, then again, money is money, and as long as they meet in public, he's pretty sure he won't get murdered. So, he can't see any harm in going.

For now though, he's still tired. He flops backwards onto his bed, and decides to sleep a few hours longer.