A/N: I drew Hex! :D http : / / letsexplode15 . deviantart . com / art / Hex-182409202 (but yeah, without the spaces) Click it click it click it click it, please?
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-AdRenaline
U
S
h
Well I won't be the one to disappoint you, anymore
And I know I said all this so that you heard it all before
The trick is getting you to think that all this is your idea
And that it is everything you've ever wanted out of here.
- Love's Not a Competition (but I'm winning), Paramore
Chapter Eleven
Even through the thick barrier of clear gold plastic, his eyes are stinging painfully at the brightness of day. Matt supposes he has brought this upon himself, having confined himself in a room -pitch black save for the multi-coloured pixels of his television set and game station- for over a week straight. Damn, his so-called reliable companion, a dog died because of his neglect. He would've done worse had he gone longer than that, possibly, if he hadn't been kicked out this morning. If Hex hadn't interrupted him when she did.
"So pack up your things and haul your ass over here," over the phone, she's said, so self-assured and cheeky. "And don't worry about Mello- he's fine with it." Honestly, Matt doubts she's even mentioned anything about him being recruited as a mafia associate, or his intentions on permanently crashing with them until after a little too late. It has negligible significance when or how she says it, he knows her enough to guess her moves. She is likely to rely solely on her supposed charm on Mello to let him allow Matt, albeit grudgingly, to stay.
Or maybe, Mello just doesn't care about Matt anymore.
Matt doesn't know what to make of that. But if Hex has really told Mello about him, then shouldn't have Mello contacted him already? His cell phone is still tucked in the back pocket of his jeans for easy reach. Just in case Mello tells him he can't come, and to just go away and leave them the fuck alone. It doesn't matter so much that Mello has been his best friend. It's been two years, and Matt knows how the time span is more than enough for people to change. Matt knows how sometimes, you can't even recognize the person you knew before anymore. Will he have to feign indifference to the blond?
So he is all but edgy this afternoon. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he thinks, shoulders hunched, back slouching, thumbs pocketed in his jeans. He is scowling deeply. People spare curious glances at him as he passes them, mostly flirtatious girls in their teens, or little children who say "Mommy, it's the hamburglar!" but Matt pays them no mind.
He tries not to listen to the cheerful bird songs above him, the honking of cars around him, the chatter of people. Matt tries not to see the bright, colorful, and nauseating outdoors. It is harder than he first thought. The sun is a constant reminder of where he is, and Matt is sick to his stomach. He wants to return to the safety of confinement.
Mello and Hex's apartment is less than a block away, while his own already far enough that he doesn't want to turn back. He will have to face Mello, or face another two hours of a bus rides and endless walking. He almost chooses the latter option, but stops himself when he remembers how brutal the past months have been.
Disregarding the facts that he's got enough cash from hacking to feed an army, and that he's erased his entire existence so thoroughly that no one, not even Near will track him, Matt has been lonely. It is pathetic, the silent admission, but he is only human. He cannot help but miss conversation and laughter, interaction and trust. Things that technology or video games can hardly ever provide for him.
He just misses not being alone.
"Get the door."
That command is so blatantly given; he is neither surprised nor affected by the irritation that strikes across her features. She looks astutely prim and proper this afternoon (and rather different, but Mello is used to this). She wears crystal blue lenses over her irises, eyes lined with liner and heavy mascara. Her cheeks and lips painted a shade complimenting her translucent features. Lips carefully painted crimson, and Mello supposes the blonde wig draped carefully beside him will go with her before she leaves.
The belligerent girl glares at him from the full-length mirror as she ties a black choker to her slender neck. "I'm kind of busy here, lazy ass. You get it." Her tone is hurried and frustrated, so Mello decides to just humor her before she shoots something (or someone, say… him). Only yesterday, Hex has successfully retrieved Aiber's numbers, pagers and cell phones, and already she has had to deal with a massive torrent of urgent calls, deals, deadlines and demands that Aiber has left for her to handle in his death. Such is the life of a con-artist, apparently.
He briefly contemplates just burning Aiber's cell phones away. He doubts she will miss them too much, even if they are the last things she has with her to keep Aiber's memory. She seems to prefer stealing to conning anyway.
Mello pulls himself to stand upright just as the rap at the front door gets louder. While he is already unpleased with having to leave his documents and reports (and Hex, a nasty part of him whispers) for even a second, his head tells him that a short break from work is very much welcome. Having not missed Hex's relieved sigh as she heads into the bedroom, he smirks slightly, amused. It seems he has saved the apartment (and himself) from being a warzone, if only just for the moment.
Glancing at the display monitor, he sees a brunette teen standing hunched, head kept suspiciously down. The way the male holds himself is very familiar to Mello, but he can never be too sure. Matt is arranged to meet them tomorrow, not today, so this man can be anyone. Even if he is holding on to large bags that suggest intent on staying somewhere or maybe here. Curiosity alit; Mello unlocks the multitude of chains and locks, and opens the door only wide enough to show his side profile.
Only now, he notices Zakk –one of the few underlings Ross has assigned to 'guard' them from possible 'threats', but Mello solidly believes he is there to make sure they keep their end of the bargain to obtain Kira's power- standing beside the teen. Zakk breaks the silence first, customarily introducing the guest to his superior. "He knows your names- claims to know you. Said his name was Matt."
The name thoroughly captures Mello's attention. He isn't so sure whether her should risk believing Zakk. While Matt may be one of the only people to know of Mello and Hex's existence and pseudo names, there is also a possibility that Matt has laid the information out on someone else, accidentally or not. But what better way to assess the truth then to judge the boy himself?
Without wasting time, Mello studies the stranger. He wears a road kill deerskin vest over a long-sleeved striped shirt, black leather gloves and boots- keys of whatever fashion statement he seems to be trying to make. This Matt must have put on his clothes in the dark or blinded. Mello cannot make out the colour of his eyes, a fact Mello thinks is a sore on his side, for eyes are easily the best defining trait of anyone. A horrible hair-dying job is made of the unkempt mane; dull brown fading to Irish red.
His gut tells him that this man is really Matt. He frowns slightly, weighing the pros and cons of actually believing himself with this.
But then, he speaks. The teen looks at him through his gold goggled eyes, leather gloved hands shoved protectively in the front pockets of his baggy jeans. Matt's hair is in wild disarray, tousled by the wind. He smiles uncomfortably, but warmly, and teases him. "Come on, Mels. You can't say you aren't glad to see me, can you?"
Deeper octave or no, there is no questioning if he knows that voice. Mello tells Zakk to relieve Matt of his bags and to take them inside, then leave as soon as he is done. Mello hardly cares he is being rude. When in the name of chocolate does any mafia superior have to worry about petty things like manners to an underling? Donning a cool smile, Mello brings himself from his thoughts.
Mello, of course, pretends not to hear Matt in the least, forcing a sort of casualness in his tone. "You were supposed to show up tomorrow, you know that?" He brings a chocolate bar to his lips, breaking off a large chunk between his teeth. And suddenly, Matt does not seem so ill at ease anymore. The familiarity of this action seems to calm the brunette, for some reasons beyond him.
His quick welcoming is not a hundred percent sincere, though. While Mello is personally glad to see his best friend, he has to remain wise of the possible threats Matt may impose. Mello still does not know whether to extend his trust to the boy. Maybe, he can feign indifference, but only for the sake of gaining Matt's trust. Above all else, he needs to confirm whether or not Matt has hidden agendas, or if he's a double agent for Near. And if Matt proves trustworthy? Then, maybe Mello can quit his pretenses.
"I, uh," Matt shifts his weight to one foot, looking to his feet again. "I got kicked out of my apartment this morning- I haven't been paying rent for months." He laughs slightly, Mello isn't so sure if it is forced or not. Matt, like Hex and him, is a talented liar. "Otherwise, I didn't think I would've shown up either."
He chuckles, opening the door wider to allow Matt entry. He spins on his bare heel and heads back to his sofa, but not before sparing a sideling glance in the brunette's direction. Matt's eyes are wandering around the apartment, adapting to his new surroundings with concentration. Mello leans into his sofa and looks around himself.
There is nothing so interesting. The apartment is large, furnished with fancy tables and chairs save for the sofa set that Hex has a tendency to shred with her knives and daggers. No pictures, of course, and no little trinkets to personalize the space. The apartment itself is just for the sake of living somewhere. Curtains are drawn closed, and the only light sources come from the kitchen and the lamp over his current seat, crowded with papers.
"Looks like you've been living in a shell, Mel," Matt comments as he eyes that last detail with clear distaste. "Not that I think you will, but anyone else would've already cracked under all this stupid." He gestures to the plenty stack of papers.
Mello looks indifferent. "Anyone normal, maybe. When the hell have we ever been normal?"
"Right now?" the brunette tries with a soft smile. Throwing himself into the couch beside the blond, he makes himself at home, twisting and squirming on the seat until he is comfortable. Mello is grateful for the gesture for more reasons than one. It shows that Matt is still uncaring, unconcerned, and all the while at ease in Mello's presence. That, or Matt has gotten better at pretending. "Yeah, right now. I mean, we're talking, right? That's normal."
"The hell it is," he snorts, smirking slightly. "I haven't seen you for two years, and here I am- some mafia big shot. The badass murderer who used to be some kid at an orphanage who went to church on Sundays. And you?" Mello doesn't even look at him. "You've practically disappeared off the face of the planet till yesterday. And then, suddenly you're some first-rate hacker the FBI, NASA and CIA are after. Normal, my ass."
Matt rolls his eyes behind his goggles. "I was talking about the conversation. Sure, the topics aren't normal in the least, but the point is that you and me, we're just talking. Not like Mello or Matt, but just like two guys talking. It's as normal as it gets, or at least, I think so."
"That was borderline cheesy," Mello quips. "Seriously. Are you sure you're Matt?"
The younger boy chuckles in amusement. "Last I checked, I was. Not so sure about now, though."
"So who are you?"
Matt grins. "I'm anyone I want to be. Seriously, Mel, running away from Wammy's was the best fucking idea I've ever had in my life."
Mello eyes him dubiously. "So you've got guts after all."
He ignores the blond. "I wasn't the only one to run away, but I guess the successors have always had a little special treatment, eh? Roger kept eyes on me like I was some kind of criminal."
The blond furrows his brow as he listens to Matt's tale. "I've always hated the place- it just got worse after L died. When you left, I just didn't think I'd be fun sticking around anymore." Matt shrugs his shoulders just once. "It's like a weight's been lifted off of me."
Mello shakes his head. "Wammy's couldn't have been that bad."
He disagrees. "Roger's got more than enough funds to keep the place running, but things were crumbling. Still is crumbling. Nannies, teachers, and staff- they all quit. Students started revolting, cracking, leaving, the others just got kicked out."
"Roger kicked them out?" Mello sounds incredulous, brow rising. "I know he's had problems with kids before, but that's drawing the line."
"Things were getting too out of control," Matt frowns. "He had no choice. Things change, people change."
The blond swings a leg over the arm of the couch, expression thoughtful. Matt is just sitting there, arms folded on his stomach like he does not know what to do with himself. Inwardly, Mello is only agitated by Matt's sudden silence. He thinks Matt is trying to probe if he has changed in any way at all. He thinks Matt is trying to sense whether things are different now, whether they are still best friends or complete strangers.
Mello honestly wishes not to answer these questions, but he knows things have changed. He is changed, still is changing. He's expected it to happen. Thrusting a gun into his hands has never been a good idea, but it has had to be done. He's learned the mind of a criminal, lives it, basks in it, and he's mastered it. He's learned to murder without taking the deaths of his victims too personally. He's learned to be aware, to always suspect, to always be ready for anything. He's learned to grow up the hard way, and there never really is going back to his old innocence.
Sometimes, Mello wakes up proud of himself. And the other times? He can't even recognize himself.
(He wonders if this is how Hex feels each time she sees herself.)
And Matt's hope should be sputtered out like dying cinders. They are too different from each other, and Matt will have to live with Mello until this is all over. They will have to reintroduce themselves; they will learn to be friends again.
Mello sighs, closing his eyes. "Yeah… People change."
She finds the dynamic duo in the living room (Hex dubs it 'Mello's lair'), speaking words that hardly make sense to her. Things that don't particularly matter, like the smell of ink or the look on Linda and Roger's face when they did so and so. All Hex knows is that they are reminiscing the more innocent days of their lives.
The atmosphere, Hex notices, is lazy and still. Never really having been one for calm, she feels air stifle her, invading her senses, Hex wants to wreak havoc a little. Why reminisce? Why not make new memories? It bothers her. She thinks Mello and Matt should be laughing and joking and playing around- things that she thinks best friends should be doing. Hex doesn't know. Apart from Aiber and Wedy, she has never really had a best friend.
(… Unless she counts Mello, but she doubts he will reciprocate her notion.)
Hex is rather pleased to see Matt (well and not dead) here. She thinks she's saved the poor boy from another year of careless game-playing and unintentional starving, mostly because of his lack of company. That, and the fact that she's been having this ridiculous idea that Mello is already getting tired of her being his sole source of 'friendship', if that is what they had established between them. Either way, she owes Matt. Has she not said she will get him a place with the mafia?
She supposes she will have to speak with them before she leaves. Hex still hasn't greeted Matt properly yet, anyway. Even more so, she does not like the feeling of being left out. So, deciding to break the quiet before she chokes on it, she puts on a cheery façade, donning another one of her cheeky grins. "Matty-boy, you're finally here to save me!" Hex makes a show, pretending to wipe away a bead of sweat from her brow. "I didn't know how much longer I could put up with," she looks pointedly at Mello, "… him."
While Matt does, Mello doesn't jump at her sudden appearance; he knows her to appear at sporadic moments of time. Matt looks pleasantly surprised by her, and decides to play along. "Anything for you, dear damsel," he says courteously, bowing his head at her modestly. "I will have this foul beast thoroughly slain for you soon enough. Shall we ride off into the sunset after?"
"This foul beast hates you two," Mello murmurs bitterly, though his tone betrays his amusement.
Hex waves a hand dismissively. "Oh hush. You're just pissed you don't know how to keep a girl around."
"No, I'm good," Mello's smirk widens. "If anything, I'll be glad you're off my chest. By all means, Matty-boy," he uses Hex's nickname with a higher pitching; mocking her, "Take her away from me."
Matt grins, flashing a straight row of white teeth. "Wait. If this fair damsel is so annoying as to burden even the foulest most stubborn of beasts," He snickers at Mello's dark glare. "I think I should reconsider… Maybe, maybe, I don't need a damsel." He looks to Hex and winks behind his goggles. "Shall I just leave you with the beast?"
"So much for mercy," She lets out an unladylike snort. "Looks like I'm going to have to rescue myself."
"Walk right out," Mello jerks his head to the door. "No one's planning on stopping you."
Hex turns her nose up in the air and makes a "humph" sound. Trotting in her black heels, she retrieves her faux fur coat and wears it on. Smirking saucily as she adjusts it, she says, "The both of you are going to miss this damsel, I swear. When I get back, you're going to be crying at my feet, begging me never to leave, never ever, ever again."
"You're leaving?" Matt questions curiously.
Mello rolls his eyes at Matt's sudden idiocy, words dripping in sarcasm. "No, she just loves parading around the place playing dress up."
The brunette grins cheekily. "Well, I wouldn't mind someone dressing up all the time just for me." He looks to Hex with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Only for me, eh, Hex? Kind of like a treat."
"Think what you will," she shrugs, brushing a lock of her wig from tickling her neck.
The blond male, sitting sprawled on the sofa, bristles for some reason. "Please. She's heading off to another one of her little expeditions."
"Jealous of her attention over me, Mello?" Matt teases lightheartedly.
Mello scowls deeply, looking away from them. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm only irritated by the both of you. Why the hell are you encouraging him, Hex?" And glancing at Matt, he sighs. "And if you're only here to ogle at girls all day long, why didn't you buy a magazine?"
Hex looks disgusted, aghast by his suggestion. "That's okay, I guess. If you like cake faced girls and silicon."
"You're a little cake-faced yourself today, Blondie, so you can't be one to talk." The brunette laughs heartily and leans back into his seat, craning his neck up to Hex to whisper in her ear, deliberately loud so Mello can overhear. "Personally, I think he's just mad I'm making passes at you." Hex chortles and looks to Mello, looking to be almost pouting at their immaturity.
"Aw," she snickers. "I'm not sure whether to be disgusted or flattered by you. You've never made passes at me before." She bats her eyelashes playfully, making kissy noises. "But aren't I just boo-ti-ful today? Am I purdy?"
Mello looks at her defiantly, cutting Matt from answering her. "Depends. Do you want the nice answer, or the honest answer?"
"Tres harsh," Matt remarks, raising an eyebrow at him. "He really is a foul beast."
Hex nods firmly. "The meanest too."
"I might save you from him after all, damsel," he smirks. "Otherwise, you'll be in distress."
She taps her finger on her chin and hums. "Or you could subdue him, or pet him. I don't know, make passes at him instead? Maybe he'd like that. He is a jealous beast, no?"
"Fuck you," Mello spits. "I-"
The sound of the front door creaking open halts Mello's words. Three pairs of eyes zero on Zakk's form, straight and tall, donning a pressed chauffeur's suit. "The limo is ready, Hex."
Hex nods in understanding, mussing Matt's hair once more before she pulls away from him. She has almost forgotten about her job; meeting one of Aiber's higher-up clients for a drug trade. There will be charming and conning, and hours of papers to read and fill, Hex is not looking forward to this. Looking to the boys over her shoulder as she reaches the door, she grins. "The damsel has taken off. Don't break anything without me, 'kay?"
TBC
A/N: I haven't slept in almost four days. O.O I shall never doubt the power of caffeine ever again. But I'm rambling. X) Ahem, so if no one guessed, the weird 'rescue the damsel' conversation is a kind of foreshadowing. I've been placing those here and there in some previous chapters, and will add more in the chapters to come.
Also, does anyone else notice how Matt's outfit resembles the Hamburglar? … I'm just saying. :P
A very wonderful, special thanks to:
C. Holywell-Black: May I am turning into a soft marshMello- I've been forced to watch Asian romance dramas all summer long. haha, I've been reading your 'LAWLIET: Looks Like Light Lost', and it's pretty awesome! :D More alleviating fluff, but 'tis just the calm before the storm. *dramatic music* Mello and Hex have yet to talk without riling each other up. haha
Overboard343: As the saying goes, 'if you want something done, you have to do it yourself'. haha, Hex doesn't seem the type to sit around reading papers, even if it'll help Mello. :P I love having them argue; witty responses are amusing. Your hunch may be (may be) correct. :D
PocketfullaMisery: And here we have Matt, mister charmer extraordinaire! I guess having lived with her mentors for years, a little bit of them rubbed off on her. :) Probably why Hex finds pleasure in Mello's misery. Her not speaking about the Kira case wasn't purely intentional- she really thought Mello knew.
Preview:
"So, how do you know Hex?" Mello's tone is innocent, but his eyes gleam with poorly disguised suspicion, and maybe, jealousy? Matt is almost amused by this. "You two seem... awfully close."
Review, please! :D