*insert witty pre-story AN here*

I don't own DeathNote, the characters (except for a T-shirt), or MCMB.

'The Caged Bird'. What a weird name for a club. But you think that's weird, wait until you hear their promo statement: 'Where YOU are the reason the caged bird sings.' Ew. I mean no offense to the girls, but this is a one-way show-and-tell.

And I ain't the one showing.

I walk through the double doors to the club, and all I can think is Whoa. Lasers and smoke and strobe lights and ear-throbbingly-pounding techno music, a pool with one of those swim-up bars, private rooms, couches everywhere, people braiding each others' hair, and a bar that looks like Snape's freaking storeroom, the bottles of colorful booze almost falling off the shelves. And the 'birds' are in cages hanging ten feet from the ground. With wings and heels. How do they do that?

I try to head straight for the bar, but Ide grabs the back of my shirt and drags me to a (considerably quieter) private room with some fur-covered yuppies that I'm supposed to forge civil relations with so they'll give us money.

"Oh Mail, darling!" one of them croons fakely, cutting off another yuppie, "How have you been? Is business going well?" I smile at her, as pleasantly as I can while she's breathing caviar and Channel No. 5 up my nose.

"Business is going well, Martha. And I recall requesting that you address me as Matt?"

She laughs, that annoying yuppie-laugh that makes me want to strangle her, "Ohohoho, I'm terribly sorry darling. It slips my mind sometimes," she takes a sip of her crap-yuppie-drink, and turns back to her yuppie friend, beginning a truly un-enthralling conversation about everything nobody gives a shit about.

I turn to Ide, "Please can I go get hammered now? Please? Pleaseplease? Pleeeeeeeeease?"

He rubs his temples and sighs, "Fine. Your pleasant act has proven worthy, so I'll take over this conversation. Go on, go out and get trashed. But harm my image in any way, and you won't be able to hold a camera for days when I'm through with you."

Walking backwards towards the door, I roll my eyes. "Ide, you know how I am when I'm drunk. Nothing'll happen."

As I turn around, I hear him mutter, "That's what you said before you totaled your car."

I was finally at the bar. There was a man passed out over the counter, a couple necking, and a boy sitting alone. Well, curtain number three is the least awkward, so let's go with that one. I sit down and say to the barkeep, "Get me a drink that's right between beer and whatever you gave that guy," pointing to the unconscious man. I hear a snort from next to me while the barkeep goes to get my drink. I glance at the boy I had sat next to. "What?"

He just shakes his head. "That's got to be the most creative way I've heard a drink ordered."

I grin. "Well, I'm a creative guy," I pick up my drink, which has just arrived. Woah, strong. But it's still good. Fruity. I turn to face the guy. Huh. He's maybe a bit cute. (Yeah. I'm gay. The vibrant hair, skinny jeans, and ability to God-freaking whine didn't clue you in on this?) Dark shoulder-length hair, glasses, loose MCMB shirt, college age. I might tap that.

He seems to be sizing me up to about right as well, giving me an appraising up-and-down. He sort of stopps when he gets to my face. "Hey, are you Matt? Like, the Matt?" I nod. Yay, fans! His eyes get wide, "Wow. I mean, I'm a huge fan, being a photography major. The Beijing collection blew my mind." I just smile, and bow, drinking in the praise like the drink I held in my hand. (What? I have Ide as a manager. I get no praise.)

"Well, you're in luck. In a few days, I'm leaving for Vienna. You probably know that, if you read my blog."

He nods eagerly, "Yeah, I read it. Vienna's supposed to be really pretty, can't wait to see what you do with it."

I just laugh and take another drink. Wait a second. That tasted different than before. I look into my drink. It looks the same. I try it again, but it tastes okay this time. I put it off to my imagination and slowly finish it off during my conversation with the boy, whose name I learn is Teru Mikami. By the time I get done with my drink, my head is spinning, and Teru's words are really garbled, like I'm underwater.

"Hey man," I drone out, starting to get up, "I gotta use the... um... facilities, I'll... Be back." I try to walk correctly but my feet won't cooperate, and I almost fall twice. I fall through the door and grasp a sink for support. I look in the mirror, and it looks like one from a funhouse. The door to the bathroom slams open. I spin quickly-too quickly. I fall. I get up and stagger to the doorframe, looking left, nobody there, and right towards the end of the hall. Why is there a camera out there? Why is it pointing directly at me? I stumble to it, freaked as hell. The view is pointed towards me, and I see a twisted image of myself. And somebody walking towards me. Wait.

I spin to face them. A hand darts to the back of my neck, and a wet cloth is trapped over my nose. I hold my breath for as long as possible staring my attacker in the face, but give out and let the world drown out around the fast-fading face of Teru Mikami.

Yay, Matt got kidnapped! *shot*

Wow, this took forever to write. Granted I'm working on 4 other stories and enough homework to make the devil himself's jaw drop to the center of the Earth, but this still took forever.

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