Tyffanie: GAHHH! I am so sorry it took so long to update! :( And it's pretty short too! T_T It looked a lot longer on my Word Doc... I will finish this story since I have lots of ideas I want to put down! Many thanks to the people that reviewed! It really means a lot too me! :) Happy reading!

Cheryl already hated the place. At the moment she was in Shinjuku at a rather upscale apartment of the man she despised the most since her arrival in Tokyo. Izaya Orihara. But he had welcomed her warmly, asked her if she would like a cup of tea. Cheryl politely declined thinking to herself "I bet it's poisoned."

He smiled at her and said "I must say, I never had a foreigner as a client before," he continued on "Especially one so pretty and fluent in my language." He continued to smile—no smirk.

Cheryl had to keep herself from clenching her hand. She smiled sweetly at him, and replied in a short "Thank you." Izaya continued to talk "How is your sister by the way? Cheryl." The way he said her name made her skin crawl. "How sad it is for her to be missing—I mean, right after your parent's car accident." he said sympathetically.

Cheryl absolutely despised this man, how dare he bring up her parent's death? But Cheryl kept her mouth shut and simply nodded, she said to him smiling at him "Well done, so you've done your homework. Now instead of this idle chatter, you can go find some information on my sister."

But Izaya kept on smirking, "Why don't you? You are, of course the child-prodigy." He went over to his desk and pulled out a file from one of its drawers. "Interesting, you had graduated of a private high school as the valedictorian at the age of 9-impressive." He continued to read from the file "You went on to Harvard taking psychology as your major, you received your PhD at the age of 16 after completing your Master's Degree, you then became a professional profiler. But because of you're missing sister; you had to give that up and came to Japan." Izaya glanced at the folder again "It also seems that you have won plenty of awards in acrobatics and track." "Very impressive."

Cheryl already knew this and yet, he was still saying it. Cheryl could feel the pain in her hands and realized her fingernails were digging into her palms. She unclenched slowly. Yes, she knew she was a profiler; throughout the years of school she became extremely good at reading people, noticing the habits and mannerisms that betrayed their intentions. Her friends had told her she would become one hell of a profiler, so that's what she wanted to do. But because of her parent's death and her sister missing she had to go to Japan; her job as a profiler was put on hold.

Cheryl's eyes flickered on to the despicable man in front of her; he still had that smirk on his face and an all-too-knowing look in his eye. Cheryl was never good at keeping her emotions down, so clenching her hand again was all she could do from punching him in the face. But Cheryl couldn't help, but notice he had a beautiful face. Cheryl glared at him and replied "No, I can't. Since isn't this your job? Finding underground information for people? Besides, if you doubt your abilities-Cheryl gave him a smirk worthy of his own "Maybe I should find my sister myself."

Izaya's smirk slowly turned to a smile, as he leaned his slender body into the sofa "Maybe you should, but I doubt that you know the streets of Tokyo better than I do."

"That's why I'm asking you. So, please; don't disappoint me Izaya-san after I heard so many great things about you." Cheryl was lying through her teeth.

"Finding a foreigner isn't always easy though…"

"Money is not an objection"

"I'll see what I can do." He said as he walked over to his computer.

Cheryl looked down at the table in front of her, it was a shogi board; a game that she was quite fond of. But this one had three king pieces on it-something that struck her odd.

Izaya looked glanced at the foreigner sitting tensely on the sofa. He was surprised to see a foreigner so young from the conversation he had with her a day ago.

Izaya was sitting back against his arm chair; bored. He looked outside at the streets; it was dark outside, but the bright lights in Shinjuku made it bright and lively. "I am soo bored!" he said to himself, then suddenly as if someone had heard him; he received a call.

It was a number he was unfamiliar with, but he still picked up the phone.

"Helloo?"

"This is Orihara Izaya-san isn't it."

This voice was clearly a female who rang of authority, but her Japanese had a slight American accent. This intrigued him.

"Yes, speaking. What can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly

This continued on for a minute, as Izaya gave her his address and she gave him her name hesitantly. He waited patiently.

"It's Cheryl Danes"

Izaya Orihara had immediately searched her up, and he was very impressed by her background. When she had came to his apartment; she looked nothing like the bookish, mousy stereotypical genius. In fact, she was beautiful like a supermodel… and she looked exactly like the other women he saw the day before.

"Brains with beauty, she's dangerous." he thought amused, while he welcomed her warmly to his apartment, and even gave her a compliment. She only replied with a stiff "Thank you" and didn't turn her gaze off him.

Izaya could tell she didn't like him which confused him "Why? Humans must love me." But he didn't say anything and offered her some tea, she had politely refused. So, Izaya sat down opposite of her and looked at her and spoke "How is your sister by the way Cheryl?" Her name rolled off his tongue when he spoke it, then he said in the most sympathetic voice he could "How sad it is for her to be missing-I mean, right after your parent's car accident…"

Cheryl wondered how long she would have to wait. She listened to him as he typed furiously on his computer. She fiddled absent-mindedly with a lock of hair that had fallen out of her sloppy bun. Today, she hadn't put any effort at all in her appearance. Almost zero makeup, worn-in jeans, a plain t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. She didn't even put on her contacts and had to rely on her old glasses.

In a nutshell, she was a mess. After, she had realized that she couldn't find her sister without Izaya Orihara's help; she was too annoyed to be properly dressed up.

A minute later, Izaya called her over. Cheryl walked in front of his desk.

"Your sister was very fond of Host Clubs. Her most favorite host was the owner Issei Isayama."

"Host Clubs?"

"There clubs where the females relax while the male hosts entertain them, I heard it's quite expensive." he stated matter-of-factly, Cheryl thought for a moment, yes, it was plausible that Clarisse did like to be pampered; especially with good-looking men that were trained to entertain.

Cheryl spoke "Where is this Host Club?" Izaya immediately answered "It's in Ikebukuro, and its name is "Stylish Café Raykyo." Cheryl felt a buzz of excitement rising up her spine, but she tried to keep herself from smiling. "I see. Call me if you find anything…" She walked towards the door "I'll send you the cheque tomorrow." With that, she slammed the door.

Izaya couldn't stop smiling. He had finally something exciting to do. He knew she was excited about this piece of news, her eyes had lit up when he had told her, and the corners of her mouth twitched as if she was trying to hide a smile. Izaya knew what she was going to do; she was going to a little bit of detective work and go to the Café herself.

He laughed while spinning in his chair, so she was the same as any human. So damn predictable. He stopped spinning as he made a phone call "Hello?" "Yes, there is a woman I think you'll be interested in…."

The minute she got home, Cheryl turned on her laptop and searched up the café extensively. There were about 20 hosts working at the club, all of them were in there early or late 20's. Cheryl realized you can actually pick the host you would want to be entertained by. Cheryl glanced at the top 10 and there he was "Issei Isayama" at number 1. She smiled to herself, but looked down her clothes. She was still living out of her suitcase, because still too tired to put everything in that walk-in closet.

Cheryl frowned slightly, her clothes weren't exactly "high-class" even though she had a lot of money she would often buy her clothes at Gap. Her sister was more into the high fashion, "Well, I guess I should do some shopping…"

Half an hour later she was dressed completely head to toe in Chanel. She looked into her reflection while walking towards the host club. She smiled at herself; this was probably going to work. There were crowds of people walking, and in the midst of the people she spotted the bright neon sign. "Stylish Café Raykyo." She walked toward the sign and spotted their touts dressed handsomely in expensive suits, Cheryl walked towards them. "Excuse me," she said confidently "Are you from Stylish Café Raykyo?" The two of them looked surprised, (Cheryl noticed one of them stared at her shoes) but said back warmly "Yes, are you interested?" Cheryl smiled brightly "Of course!"

The man immediately led her through the door, and Cheryl was presented a menu. She opened it and was staring at photos of the available members. Without hesitation, she said "Issei Isayama." The man looked slightly nervous, "Um, Issei-sama is currently busy- "Please, I only want Issei-san." She reached for her purse and fished out a black card "Do you take American Express?" She glanced at the man in front of her swallowing nervously, she could tell he was debating whether or not to ask for Issei-san.

"I'll go see what I can do." She held back a victory grin and simply nodded. A minute later, the man directed her to a room at the back "Right this way." Cheryl passed by several other girls with their respective hosts, drinking, laughing, and even singing. "Hello, so you must be the beautiful model who specifically requested me…" "I am honored." Issei Isayama stood up and said to her "Please sit." Cheryl sat down, and tried not to make herself look uncomfortable. She saw him pour her a drink, and handing it to her.

She swallowed in one gulp and felt the smokey, woody flavor slid down her throat. Scotch, she presumed and of course, it tasted expensive. He poured her another one, "So, have you had a Japanese boyfriend?" he said with a smirk, "No, I haven't had the pleasure." she said coyly. She reached for her purse and took out a cigarette; he automatically lit it. She inhaled the smoke, and they started chatting about whatever that was on her mind. After three cigarettes and a bottle of wine (Château Cheval Blanc), Cheryl was feeling slightly tipsy and decided to ask the question before she'd get any drunker. "Hey, did you know a girl named Clarissa Danes?" Issei-san grinned "Yeah, I did know someone with that name…" he took a swig of the wine "Charming girl…"

Cheryl pressed on, "You know, she often came here…and she was the one who told me about you." Issei was pouring her another glass "Yeah, she used to come here often…" but he didn't seem to want to talk it about farther. Cheryl didn't press on, but instead smiled and took a sip of the wine. "Cheers."

After a couple of hours, Cheryl had probably spent more than a million dollars on alcohol and she was feeling quite sick. But it wasn't all a total waste, she noticed whenever she mentioned her sister, his Adam's apple would bob up and down nervously, and he would never make eye contact with her after she mentioned that Clarissa was her sister. He knew something, and Cheryl was going to find out what.

Cheryl stumbled onto the streets, and debated whether to take the metro or a taxi. Her penthouse wasn't far from here; in fact it only took 10 minutes by train. Decision made, she wobbled (those damn shoes) down the streets.

"Urgggg, I feel sick." She moaned, she always had quite a high tolerance of alcohol, but never drank as much as this before. She sat down on a bench in a rather secluded park. She noticed from afar a van had parked across the street, and two men had got out of it. Cheryl realized they were coming towards her.

"Is this the one he told us about?" asked one of the men. "It must be, he told us blonde and beautiful…" he glanced leeringly down at her. Cheryl felt her hairs stand up, and she immediately got up and was about to start walking when—"Hey, where you going girlie?" The man stank of grease and cheap aftershave. He grabbed her arm, as if on instinct Cheryl punched him "Don't touch me!" she snarled. The man howled in pain, and cried "You bitch!" Without another warning he pushed her hard, and because of her heels she fell backwards—hard. A sickening crack was heard and Cheryl felt her wrist break.

"You okay?" "Yeah, fucking bitch…" "Let's just get her and get out of here!" They moved towards her and Cheryl was now quite frightened. She knew there wasn't a way out of this, what with her broken wrist and pounding head…she was trapped like a bird in a cage. She closed her eyes waiting for the worst to happen, but instead of grubby hands grabbing her and hauling her towards the van. Cheryl heard yells, a lot of swearing—and even begging? Cheryl opened her eyes, but her vision was rather blurred and she could barely think straight because of the alcohol and the pain. Her eyelids grew increasingly heavier, and the last thing she saw was a rather strange man dressed in black and white…kinda like a bartender. Then darkness swallowed her up.