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Me: Haha, this is just something random I came up with.
Matt: You're retarded. I'll have you know, I'm an excellent saver.
Me: Sureeeee. That explains why all your bills are through the roof.
Mello: *holding a lamp* MATT.
Matt: FTTTT GOTTA GO NOW. Misseh does not own Death Note or its characters, nor does she own "Seasons of Love" from RENT.
Me: By the way, readers, you'll better understand this disclaimer AFTER reading the one-shot.
Matt: *running* THEN WHY DID YOU PUT IT FIRST?
Me: BECAUSE CONFUSION IS FUN :D
Mello: Witch.
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Seasons of Cash
Original Author: MissehKeehl (ME.)
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Mello nearly had the wind knocked out of him when he arrived home, staring down at the plate of double chocolate chip cookies shoved into his chest.
"Matt? What're you-"
"Welcome home, Mello! Won't you have a seat?!" Matt yelled over him, dragging him by the wrist. He pushed Mello backwards so that he fell onto the couch, and placed the plate of cookies in front of him on the coffee table.
"Enjoy!" he said with an all-too-sincere smile. Mello quirked a brow as he reached for the cookie, taking a slow bite into its soft, chocolaty goodness. "Mmm…Matt, these are good. What's the occasion?"
Matt grinned wider, almost painfully. "Why, Mello, I'm shocked! Can't a guy just bake cookies for his best friend?"
"No."
"Well, there's a first for everything."
"Matt, cut the bullshit and tell me what you did."
Matt sighed, hunching his shoulders. "I guess you saw right through me…Well, to explain this….I'll lighten the mood by telling you in song!"
Mello sat back in his seat as Matt brought in a boom box, pressing the button to start the song on the CD. He cleared his throat, preparing himself.
"Ahem…..
Five Hundred Twenty-five Thousand Six hundred dollars,
That's how much money I had, but now I am broke.
Five Hundred Twenty-five Thousand Six hundred dollars,
How do you measure, measure my debt?
In pennies, in nickels,
In dimes, or even singles,
In batteries, in games
In cigarette packs.
In— Five Hundred Twenty-five Thousand Six Hundred dollars.
How will I pay you,
Repay you, Mello?"
Mello's eyes were the size of plates, giving a stone cold glare at the redhead who sang in front of him. At this point, Matt got down on one knee, holding an invisible microphone in front of him as his eyes were pleading.
"Tell me, Mail, how the fuck are you planning on paying me back?" Mello asked through gritted teeth.
"How about looooooove?
How about looooooooove?
How about loooooooooove?
Pay you in love.
Seasons of Caaaaash,
Seasons of Caaaaaash."
"Matt," Mello hissed, reaching for the lamp nearest him.
"……….I'll go get my helmet……," he said sadly.
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