Okay-dokey, so… Haha, yeah. Prepare for this chapter to be anti fantastic. I'm kind of in an awkward part of the plot, where things are necessary but not exactly fun to write. Additionally, just so people know, I am starting a line of Death Note males x OC stories, which originated with this one. They all kind of lead into one another. I have one for L, Mello, Near, and another one with L and B (not as a coupling.). The L x OC one I have up right now shall soon be removed… it'll be the same basic premise, just with a couple changed details. The girl in the new one is called Emma, and the story is entitled Murder is What You Make of It. My one for Mello is called Set the Fire to the Third Bar, and the girl's name is Gracie. (It's set after this story, however, so this says nothing about whether or not I will have a Mello/Rylie thing going on.) My Near one is called Ragdoll Royalty and the girl is Alexandria. And my second L one is an L x OC x Beyond fic (I know, but everyone has to try with B, don't they? He's so intriguing.) and the girl's name is Abigail. More on those later, and they're not up yet, just wondering if anyone would be interested….

Anyways, this plot should start to clear up soon and Matt and Rylie's relationship should start getting pretty heavy pretty quick. You have no idea how much feedback is appreciated!

xXx

Rylie

I'm not the chick you go to when you want to talk about out of body experiences- I'm more likely to tell you that you're off your rocker than to actually give a damn. But, inside this bar, my place of goddamn employment, I am having one. I mocked them when I saw them on wannabe-Oprah's talk shows, and now here I am. I see my body- pinned onto the lap of a pudgy forty-something year old, whose fingers are currently inside my panties and doing something quite furiously- but I cannot feel it. And for that I am thankful, I never really enjoyed that experience even when it was something I was doing voluntarily. What I am not thankful for, however, is the bloody curtain currently blocking the booth, where my unconscious body is being assaulted, from the rest of the bar. Back when this place was created in the 1970s, it was an even shadier establishment than it is today. Officially, it was a strip club. Unofficially, it was a place to pay for sex. The booths were seated around a stage in the center of the place (which has since been removed), and when you were willing to pay the extra bit to actually get some action, you could pull the curtains closed and there you go. Since this place was found out by the cops and converted, most of the curtains had been tossed out with the stage. But William- trying to be cute and kind of nostalgic, I guess- had kept the ones around the booths in the back of the room. Fantastic.

I return my attention to my body- God, this is so strange, sitting here and watching myself like this. I want to make myself move, even if it means feeling this, and I want to kick and scream and bite and get the hell away from there- but I cannot. I can only stand here, a few feet away, and watch, detached, with my back pressed against the curtain. I'm screaming at the guy- but he can't hear me. I can't even describe it- perhaps I am dreaming. If I am dreaming, everything makes sense again. Suddenly a bright light comes in from behind me and sears across my vision- a body quite a bit larger than mine barrels past, and I catch a flash of hair just a little less red than my own.

"Get the fuck off of her!" It's Matt. Oh, sweet fucking Lord. It is my goggle clad, video game addicted savior. And then that man is off my body, and it is all happening a little too fast for me to comprehend. My body has dropped to the ground and I wince- that'll leave a few bruises later. Matt has dropped to the floor beside my body and lifted me up into his arms, and this I actually wish I could feel. It's kind of bizarre to watch- he is cradling me extremely tenderly, but the look in his eyes is anything but.

"What the fuck, man!" My assailant is approaching Matt now. "What was that all about?"

"That was about me getting you off of her," Matt says coldly. He looks like he is about to beat the guy up. Matt takes a step forward, and the look on his face does not suit him, it is too rough and tumble and dark. For a second the look on his face scares even me, in my untouchable corner of the room where I have no physical body. But then he looks down at me and his face softens, and he brings his fingers up to brush along my cheekbone gently. I stiffen, but only because I am startled- I have felt nothing until this, but I can feel his hands; they are soft and surprisingly warm, and the warmth spreads across my face as I feel it heat up. I know that I do not want him to fight for me- this boy should not have to fight, he can't be much older than I am.

"That was a dumbass move, man," my attacker says, taking a step towards Matt. They are too close for comfort to me.

Matt surveys him. "You touching her was a dumbass move, man. Now I am about this close to totally losing my cool and beating the shit out of you, now I suggest you get out of my fucking way."

The man sizes Matt up, trying to decide whether he's worth the fight. Matt might be thin, but he is tall and if you look closely you can see the lean muscle just under his surface. And he is carrying all 105 pounds of me like it is no problem at all. Apparently, he concludes it isn't worth the bother. He steps back, and beckons his little herd towards him. "Whatever man, it's just some dumb whore. Chill out."

Matt grits his teeth. "She's not some whore, and I suggest you leave this place before I rethink my decision and you end up leaving it in an ambulance."

His defense of me makes my heart flutter- and it is all happening very quick. In the last half hour, I have re-met a guy I had obsessed over because of a single glance, gotten sexually assaulted, and was then rescued and had my honor protected by before mentioned guy. What next? The other man doesn't say anything, and then Matt just turns on his heel and leaves, and I feel myself slowly returning to my body- rejoining as one.

And I can't quite make myself believe that this is all a dream.

I look up at Matt, standing next to me and looking down at me worriedly. "Thanks," I tell him, a small smile gracing my lips.

He grins at me tiredly before pressing his lips into a thin line and nodding. Things are awkward for me, now. I'm feeling so stupid- I always have that sort of melodramatic reaction to the overzealous drinkers, even though I should be used to it by now. Thankfully, I've adapted out of the aftershocks. Matt is leaning against the cold bricks of the wall now, lighting a cigarette and sticking it in between his lips carelessly, a PSP hanging out of a pocket near his hip. I lean against the wall opposite him and examine him carefully.

"So," he says finally, his head tilted back and looking up at the sky. He clears his throat. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say, glad to see my voice has regained its typical strength. "Really, though, thank you for that."

He drops his head and looks straight at me. "It was no problem. I really don't like people like that."

I chuckle slightly. "Eh, generally speaking most people with good common sense don't."

He smiles wryly at me. "Why do you work there?" he asks me, "no offense, but it's kind of horrible."

I laugh at the sheer absurdity of the statement. "It's only horrible at night. Come back in the daytime- it's actually a pretty cool place. And I need the money."

"Do you work there in the daytime?" he asks me, removing his cigarette from his lips and holding it carefully between his fingers.

"Nah," I say, biting my lips. Gosh, he's hot. He grins at me, and he looks so boyish and mischievous that for a second he resembles my five year old nephew in that expression al one.

"Then I probably won't come in the daytime," he says, "unless you come with me, of course."

"Hmm," I say pretending to consider, "is that you attempting to ask me out?" My heart beats a little bit faster. Good lord, I'm such a dork…

"That depends on your answer, naturally," he says cheerfully.

"I'd love to do that sometime then," I respond, and watch his face light up.

"That's great, beautiful." He pauses and looks down at the ground, shuffles his foot. "You want me to walk you home?" he asks me, extending his hand. I am so close to taking it. So close to taking it and gripping it and letting him walk me home- but I don't have a home, and I do have to work, and even this beautiful, childlike man can't change my mind.

"I have to go back to work," I say, frowning.

Matt looks at me shocked. "You're going back in there?" His voice is confused.

I shrug. "I need the money," I tell him.

"But, beautiful, aren't you… I mean, you can't really be okay, I just… I was trying to ask, but I don't know how to deal with that sort of stuff, and I didn't want to pressure you or whatever…I mean, precious, I don't think you should go back in there."

I smile at him. God, he's adorable. Anybody else, I'm sure, could be traumatized from an experience like that- while not rape, at my age it's enough to make anyone uncomfortable. And don't get me wrong, it's not like I enjoy it- but to make up for the numerous times it has and will happen to me, my body has a coping mechanism- while I can't do much about the biting, metallic panic that sets for the during, after I am as I was before- ready to work with an easy awareness of what I'm putting myself through.

Then again… maybe I do have aftershocks. Because reaching up and brushing my fingertips across Matt's lips and watching his eyes widen behind the goggles with a sort of satisfaction I'm not used to- that is not my normal, shy, cautious Rylie.

So, those may be the aftershocks, that move and the stomach filled to the brim with something that is far too large for butterflies, and the shaky limbs, and the electric outline of Matt imprinted in my brain. Those may be the aftershocks. But then again, it might also just be Matt.

I drop my fingers down to my sides; clench them up into a fist to preserve the feel of him. His lips are as soft and as warm as his hands, though I cannot explain what possessed me to be so forward. "I have to work," I tell him, pretending that I had the resolve to not follow him if he walked away me, "but if you're here in two hours, you can still walk me home. If you don't mind."

Matt grinned at me. "I think I might just stick around."

I would have argued, quite honestly, two hours is a long time to sit around in a smoky bar with nothing to do but stare at a not-so-pretty waitress as she gets hit on, but I wanted him to stay. It had been a long time since I'd had an honest-to-goodness crush. I turned around and headed back into the building, flashing a smile at him when I heard his footsteps echo mine. Just two more hours left.

Okay, so… No Matt in this chapter! I miss him! Well, I mean, there's Matt in this chapter… but no Matt section in this chapter. Next chapter, however, will be solely Matt's, no section for first-person Rylie. Um… yeah. I don't know how to deal with Rylie's psyche as a person who's undergone sexual assault. I'm kind of shooting blindly in the dark and giving her a reaction that is unique to her character. This is a bit of a darker chapter, and totally awkward to write…. Um, I can't wait for the fluff to resume! It won't be much longer, I promise. I estimate roughly four chapters till Rylie and Mello meet… My decision on their relationship is still up for you guys to decide, but I pretty much have my mind made up.

Please gimme some feedback!

Next chapter should be up tomorrow or the day after!

Thank you to all my reviewers!

Love, Alice