A/N: I'm back! (Already.) I decided to go with idea number two, for those of you who read my other story Sing Through The Pain. Speaking of that, I will do a sequel at some point; I just don't feel like it now.

I own nothing.

It had started out as one simple lie.

"So, you are at least sixteen, ah, Near?" Mr. Aiber asked, peering over a résumé to see a head of white curly hair.

His voice was quiet, barely noticeable over the loudly buzzing fan in the corner of the room. "Yes sir, for two months now." Alright, he had been fifteen for two months, but he needed this job.

If Near had known the tangled web this one lie would weave, he would have never, ever said it.

Glancing up at the ancient, ornate clock tower only spurred Near on to run faster. 'Ms. Amane will skin me alive if I'm late again. Oh, got to hurry!' Screeching to a stop in front of Kira's, a fancy restaurant in the upscale area of town, Near narrowly avoided hitting an innocent pedestrian before quickly sneaking in.

"Near! Hurry to the staff room and get changed. I covered for you with Amane. If she asks you how you're stomach feels, just say a little better." Near nodded hurriedly and whipped out of sight. Charlotte craned her neck to make sure he got to the staff room, and then promptly snapped back to attention as a group of hungry customers came.

Back in the break room, Near had just finished putting on the uniform of black pants and a white shirt before Ms. Amane stormed into the room. "God! We are swamped today!" She stood, hands on hips, in the center of the room before noticing Near. "Oh? You're feeling better, yes?" He barely had time to open his mouth before she cut him off. "Yes, yes good. Get out there and cover tables fifteen through twenty two."

Promptly tightening his apron, Near hustled out of the staff room like it was on fire.

"I'll have the steak and potatoes. Medium rare. Her as well." A tall man, maybe mid-twenties was seated at table seventeen. He was handsome in a self-assured, cocky way. However, his date was practically shaking in anger.

Near took a step back, already foreseeing a problem. The man glanced cluelessly at her, smiling a tad condescendingly. "I'M A VEGETARIAN!" She erupted, glaring heavily at him, hands grabbing at the tablecloth. "I don't freaking eat steak! And yes, I have told you this before."

Before things could escalate further, Near was called away to table twenty to pick up the check. 'Well, I'm not getting a tip from them tonight.' He mused sadly.

It was already eight thirty. Near had just gotten off from Kira's and was slowly shuffling down a dark street. A single lamp post shed a circle of light just big enough to show a long, narrow alley way.

Silently, Near slipped down it. Soon coming to a heavy steel door, he paused momentarily, grabbing something out of his pocket. Glancing up at the door marked Employee Entrance he slid a key into the large lock and it loudly clicked open.

Pushing, Near managed to swing the door open. Carefully stepping inside, he shut the door quietly. Not that it made a difference because the bass was so loud, Near would be surprised if you could hear a bomb go off over it. Scantily clad people were dancing close on a glowing dance floor and lights spun crazily, illuminating parts of the packed dance club.

"Pardon me. Excuse me." Near swiftly elbowed his way to the bar, where Demegawa was standing happily, surveying his domain. He was dressed all in black, a sharp contrast to the flashy club. his mustache gleamed magnificently in the lights.

"Near, Near, glad you are here! Hurry now, go and get changed into your uniform." Demegawa pointed a demanding finger at the dark door behind the fluorescent bar. Near obeyed, silently heading back. 'He's a good worker. Kind of dangerous for him to be working here though. I can't pay him the full wage as a barkeep, but I suppose he gets enough tips from drunks. Speaking of drunks, hello ladies!' Demegawa oozed away from the bar, aiming for a pair of obviously trashed twenty three year olds.

Nervously rolling up the sleeves of his embroidered white shirt Near stepped back out behind the bar. He was again wearing a white shirt and black pants, but this time Sakura was embroidered ornately in pink on the pocket. Small accents of pink were also on the cuffs of the shirt and the pants pockets.

Taking his usual place behind the bar, Near checked over all his equipment. Bottles upon bottles of every sort of alcohol. Eerily lit up glasses stacked in neat rows. The tip jar was in place, as was the normal payment area. Finally, the sign board advertising all the drinks was still lit up nicely. 'Alright, time for the third and last job of the night.' Near thought, mentally prepping himself. 'Yes, it's not fun, but hey you get money right? Now let's do this.'

Two hours later, Near still had a hour and a half left on the clock, and he had already dealt with countless drunks.

"Hey sweetie, how bout a Cosmo?" A red haired woman in her early thirties sidled up to the bar, leaning over into Near's personal space. She placed on manicured fingertip onto the fourth button on his shirt and clumsily 'walked' them up to his nose.

Near gulped, trying to back away, but finding he had no room to do so. "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to step away from the bar now." She retracted her hand, frowning slowly.

Snatching the lucid colored drink from Near's outstretched hand, she took one sip before making a face and tossing it at him. Unfortunately, it was a pretty dead on throw and most of the drink ended up all over Near. Sighing, he grabbed a dishcloth from underneath the bar and began to dab at his now sodden shirt.

Trudging home in pitch blackness (for after all, it was midnight), smelling like alcohol, Near began to hum quietly.

'Alright, I've got to get home, finish all my homework, and I probably won't have time for sleep. That English project's going to take awhile.' He thought, frowning subconsciously. Another sleepless night, which would make three in a week. 'And it's only Thursday.'

Why was Near handling three jobs per day, all the way from right after school until midnight? Simple. For the money. The money he needed to stay in school. Wammy's was an elite private school that offered zero scholarships. And as an orphan running from social workers no one was going to help Near out.

'The only way life could be worse now is if Ryuk raises the rent again.' Near pondered, almost running to the cramped three room apartment he called home.

A/N: Yes, it's a tad short, but I would like to know what you all think before I get in too deep. I just drank tea with a straw.

Reviews are awesome!