AN: So here's the sequel. It picks up right after Matt and Mello made up in DLMDY, and it's told mostly through Matt's eyes. It says that the genre is romance, but I'm sure there will be plenty of other assorted genres mixed in. It is based on Billy Joel's Piano Man. I went with a Billy Joel song again because that's what the last one was, and so it only made sense. The last fic was based off of my third favorite Billy Joel song, this is my second, and I've got one more fic planned that will be based off my very favorite. If you did not read "Don't Let Mello Die Young" I recommend doing so before reading this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or the amazing Billy Joel's "Piano Man" (If you do not like either of these things, I now ask you to imagine me glaring at you and telling you none too politely to GET OUT!)

Warnings: Yaoi (but no lemons, I wouldn't be able to write that), swearing, and underage drinking = + plenty of sad stories.

KINDLY review!

There's an Old Man Sitting Next to Me

Matt POV

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday and the manager gives me a smile. He knows that it's me they've been coming to see to forget about their life for a while (1). I've been playing piano at a western-style bar in Japan for while, ever since I came here to look for Mello. I know he went chasing after Kira, and I thought he might have come to this country. The job started out as a way to make money to search for Mello, but it's become my life now. I guess that's fine, I meat plenty of good people, and old John at the bar, who owns the joint, has a deal with me that as long as I keep playing piano and attracting customers, he'll give me drinks for free, even though I'm underage.

It's been five years since the day Mello was called to Roger's office and given the news that would change our lives. Five years since he packed up and left, telling me that under no circumstances was I to follow him. But at 17, when I was allowed to leave, I did just that, and have been searching for him ever since. Most of my time is consumed by playing the piano, but in the free time I do get I spend looking for him in any place I think he would be, hacking computers to find his name somewhere, anything I can do.

An old man walks into the bar, and I study him for a second. I recognize him as Roger, and he seems to remember me too, because he walked right over and sat down next to me after ordering his tonic and gin. "Roger? What are you doing here?" He smiles, a sad, empty smile, looking down into his glass. "I was just in Japan to visit my dear friend Wammy's grave. Oh how Quillish loved this country. I heard this bar had a hell of a piano player, people say that he's very talented and a nice guy who might listen to an old man's sad tale. I knew it was you."

I smile at the compliment. "Any requests?" I ask as usual, and he looks. I can see the pain in his eyes, and I sympathize. "Just one," he says. "It was our song, Quillish and I. I don't quite remember the name, but it was sad and sweet, and I could hum all of it for you." He began to hum, and I found that I knew the song well. I stroked the keys gently, closing my eyes as I sang.

I wake up in Mello's arms, and grin that stupid grin of mine, the one that he thinks is cute. I listen for a while, just to the sound of his breath, and then gently wake him up. I can feel him smile into my hair before he climbs out of bed, shamelessly pulling off his clothes in front of me to change for school. "Mello!" I say, heat rising to my cheeks. He smiles his charming smile and pushes me head first into the bed. "You don't HAVE TO look."

…...

"Open your mouth," he says at lunch later that day, holding a forkful of some kind of strange, Scandinavian food in front of my face. I oblige, and he places the food on my tongue. "Mmm," I say. "What is it?"

"Kroppkaka," he replies. I give him a confused look. "A Swedish dish made from potatoes, wheat flour, bacon, and onion. I nod, glad that there is nothing strange in it. "Are you from Sweden, Mello?"

"No, but my mother was half Swedish. She taught me how to cook." He feeds me another forkful of Kroppkaka. "Where are you from?" I ask, curious to know more about him. "Russia," he replies, "but I never really developed an accent since I spent most of my life alone. I do have a tiny one, but I prefer to mask it."

As of then it became my goal to hear Mello's accent.

"That was beautiful Matt," Roger remarked as I finished the song. "What are you doing, stuck here?"

I tell him this like I tell all the others who ask, "I'm searching for the man I love. Once I find him, I'll follow him anywhere and never let him go, but until then, I'm the piano man, working here at this bar."

Roger gives me one last sad smile before setting his glass down at the bar and leaving, as we are closed for the night.

AN: Just so you know… the italics are Matt remembering things, and he is not speaking out loud, it is in his mind. The small dotted lines are time skips inside the memories.

1: This is said near the end of Piano Man, and therefore belongs to Billy Joel and not to myself. I guess John also belongs Billy Joel.