A/N : In this Oscar madness (written about 5 hours before the Oscars 2016), it seemed okay for me to write this AU.

"I understand your pressing circumstances, but I'm telling you, he doesn't usually go for screenplays like this! He wants, realism, blood – I mean, we're talking about a guy who grew up on Tarantino and Fincher movies for chrissake."

The man looked exasperated. He was desperate. His client was trying to kill himself, but not on his watch.

32 year old Light Yagami sat in front of his agent's desks. "Look, it's exactly like you said! I grew up on Fincher's movies too! And look, this story – it's like a retelling of Gone Girl."

"It isn't."

"Shut up. The point is, he's an Oscar nominee for over a billion movies."

"Fifteen."

"Shut up. And if he takes my story, and makes it into a movie…" he slams his hand on the desk, "I'm telling you, I'm looking at an Oscar for best original screenplay."

His agent sat there on his revolving chair, playing with the marble paperweight between his fingers on the glass table. He let out a sigh, and stood up adjusting his coat, "Fine. I'll talk to his agent. See what I can do."

Light clapped his hands and jumped, "Thank you!" He considered for a minute whether he should kiss his agent on the cheek, but decided it would be too homosexual for the moment.

Fifteen days later, Light received a text from his agent, giving him the directions to the current location of the one he wants. It was the address of an old abandoned film studio. He grabbed his coat, his brief case, and for safety purposes, his laptop as well.

In about half an hour, he was about to reach the place. The gates were functional, but the building was abandoned.

"Dank abandoned buildings," Light smiled to himself. "Just like a David Fincher movie."

He knocked and opened the unlocked door, and found himself in the set of a meth lab. He made his way past – and this set was old – and found himself in an aircraft museum set. Without the aircrafts.

But instead of aircrafts, there was one, lonely little caravan that sat right smack in the middle of the 10000 square feet room. He realized that this must be it. HE briskly walked towards it, knocking on the door to hear the words, "Come in" emanate from the inside.

Only, the voice didn't say "Come in" it said, "Who is it?"

Light cleared his throat, "Light, Light Yagami. I'm a screenwriter?"

"Ah, yes, the dipshit. Come in, come in."

And Light opened the doors of his caravan to find…

There were several rumours that were merely speculations that discussed the life of Lawliet – more commonly known by his stage name L - but they sure as hell didn't discuss the possibility of him being a reclusive, drug abusing, porn watching, diabetic (maybe even arthritis) guy with absolutely no sense of hygiene, fashion, or sociability.

Because that was the first sight Light saw. An English man sitting on a couch with black hair, pale face, and onyx grey eyes, wearing a white t shirt and green pants. The TV was running and it had porn running on it. Next to the couch was a minibar, only it had a lot of cakes, jellies and jams.

"Yagami. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, yeah" L waved his fork at him, his eyes undeviating from the carnal pleasures on TV. "Sit wherever you want," he added.

Light looked around him. The place literally had a million health code violations. Anywhere he sat could ruin his suit permanently. "That's all right, I'd rather stand," Light said. Politeness always got the better of him.

"Whatcha want?" L smirked, switching the TV off. "My name is Light Yagami, and I have a script that I think you might be interested in."

"Why did you come to me?" L inquired, his eyes piercing Light's.

"Because…" Light gulped. "Because you're an amazing director. I've seen most of your movies. You have a varied, never permanent, always changing cast, and your signature camera moves are mind blowing. Your panache for the psychological thrillers is out of the world…" and Light slowed as he noticed L giggling, almost mockingly.

"Okay, and what makes you think I'd direct your story?" L chuckled.

"Because I have written a psychological thriller. In an era where romantic movies are conquering the theaters of the day to day, Japan is losing impact on international cinema. I intend to bring it all back."

"And you approach an English man to do it?"

"Technically, it would be a Japanese production, with a Japanese crew, but an English director."

"Oh, you've determined who my crew should consist of also?" L bit his thumb. "That's not nice."

"I haven't. Not really. It's just a dream I've dreamed for a very long time and-"

"Shush. Look, give me your script, I'll go over it. I'll ask my agent to give you a call if I'm interested. Sound okay?"

Light nodded earnestly and walked out. Seconds before he shut the door, he heard the porn play on the TV again. Seconds after he shut the door, he heard L screaming, "YOU BROKE THE 180 DEGREE RULE YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"

Light smiled. He was the perfect man for the job.

I actually have another chapter at ready here - but I don't have the patience to proofread it now. So, you might have to suffer with this small chapter here.