Chinese

Part I. Matt

Crack.

Matt, a little irate, snapped his fortune cookie in half, revealing the little slip of paper inside. He frowned at it for a moment, then tugged the paper out and read his fortune.

Sometimes an indefinite leave of absence is for the best.

He laughed bitterly to himself, taking a big gulp of the Pepsi sitting on his table. He picked up his chopsticks and began to eat his ramen.

Matt was currently in a Chinese restaurant in the middle of some town--really, he hadn't been paying attention. After almost getting caught with one of his recent hackings, the redhead had had to escape his old apartment and be on the run. The drive had been boring; Would have been more entertaining if Mello had been here, Matt thought wistfully, picking at the noodles. He almost sighed out loud at the thought of the blond--his best friend and long-time crush-- but stayed quiet, opening his lips just to eat.

He hadn't been the same since Mello's sudden leave. Shortly after Mello left, he'd left too. He supposed they were on the same level now, out in the world, probably constantly having to avoid trouble. The only difference was, Mello was most likely rich and getting tons of money for the investigation, and he, Matt, was broke, hacking for a living. Not to mention he had to eat this shitty Chinese food, too.

God, this ramen tastes like ash.

He pushed away his plate, wanting to curl up in the seat and maybe spend a night here or two. The cushions looked comfy... But already, the employees were spying on him warily, like he'd suddenly bolt without paying the check. I probably would, Matt thought to himself. I did spend the last of my money on cigarettes. Damn addiction!

He let out a little sigh in forlorn, reaching into his pocket and taking out an unlit cigarette, promptly ignoring the little brochure on his table by the salt shaker that read 'NO SMOKING.' With a flick of his lighter, the cancer stick was lit and he was breathing in his poison.

The store employees were on him like hound dogs within seconds. "Sir," said a guy with squinting eyes, "we have a 'no smoking' policy around here. We suggest you do that outside, where you may not disturb the other costumers."

Matt snorted, waving his hand dismissively at the two other people in the restaurant in him. One was a big, fat man wolfing down some sweet'n'sour chicken, and the other a skinny blond watching Matt, looking amused.

The employee, whose name turned out to be Jerry, said, "Sir."

"Matt," Matt said, smirking. "Call me Sir Matt."

"S-sir Matt," the employee spluttered. "As I said, we do not allow smoking in the building. Please go outside, or we will be forced to call security on you."

Matt saw his chance to escape. "All right, all right," he muttered, standing up and brushing past Jerry to leave.

Jerry was smarter than Matt thought. "Sir, you need to pay for your food," he said in a monotone.

Jeez, reminds me of Near, Matt said internally and grimaced. "Hm, yes, let me get my--" Then he spun around and high-tailed it out of there.

He would have had made it. He really would had, considering how fast he was running and how Jerry was still stunned. But, goddammit, the sliding door. It didn't open fast enough and Matt ran smack into it, face-first. He tumbled backwards onto the floor, groaning and clutching his forehead.

"Sir!" Jerry shouted, storming over and yanking Matt up by the collar of his striped shirt.

"Hey, hey, don't stretch it! It's my favorite shirt!" Matt complained. "I'll sue you!" He began to shriek. "Manhandling is a serious offense! I'll sue you. I swear to God, I'll sue you for everything you own!"

Jerry was about to shout something back when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, let me pay for his bill," a smooth voice said.

Matt was still whining about suing him when he was grabbed by the arm and led outside to a motorcycle.

"God," the blond said, looking exasperated, "do you have to attract attention wherever you go?"

Matt pouted behind his goggles, then did a double-take. "M-Mello?"

I plan for this to be a threeshot.

Disclaimer: etoN hteaD nwo t'nod I.