Nov 29, 2009

Present

'KISSING A SMOKER IS LIKE KISSING AN ASHTRAY!'

A breath of polluted air was huffed out of his lips, obscuring the Anti-Marlboro poster's warning. Matt wouldn't have taken the time to read it, but it just stared him in face every time he walked in-and-out of work. Did anti-smoking ads ever work on anyone? If the demographic of smokers was anything like himself, shame and fear tactics weren't going to work. He wasn't a girl either so figures something like that wouldn't move him toward quitting.

He was slightly hunched over, fiddling with his keys to the door as he closed up the store for the night. Problem was, the key slot was junk. The lock was rusted, making it difficult for the key to slip under the tumblers. Fixing it wasn't his problem, and it wasn't his problem if the place got jacked either. If anything was stolen, Kira would just take care of that, too. Super. Perfect. Nobody ever had to worry about anything. So, why did he have to lock up? He was tempted to just leave. It was cold. He was hungry.

Finally, he heard it click into place.

Taking another long drag from his cigarette, he turned heel and left.

That phone call had been pushed out of his head, easy to forget about when he was kept busy, but Matt knew it would only be a matter of time. He knew Mello. The stubborn sonofabitch did not enjoy being ignored. He was never going to let things die at a single phone call, and he definitely wouldn't have taken being hung up on too kindly.

No, Matt knew he had not heard the last of Mello.

He shivered, breathing warmth into his hands. At the very least, his smoke provided a good defense against the ugly weather. It wouldn't save him if it started pouring, though. Matt could feel rain shower coming on.

He stopped at a gas station to buy some cheap wine for the night. No special occasion, just that he wanted to get wasted enough to pass out. However, cheap alcohol never really did a good job of doing that, so he bought a few bottles to make extra sure he'd be out like a light. As he paid for his things, he examined the items for sale at the checkout counter. An assortment of fruity gum tempted him where they sat among the candy.

Without paying, he carefully slipped a pack of JuicyFruit gum into his back pocket. What Kira didn't know wouldn't kill Matt. Rain began falling then, but he didn't care enough to hurry as he headed for home. He was freezing his dick off, too cold and tired to make a run for it. The slick pavement would only ensure that he'd fall on his ass if he tried. There was no need for urgency when he didn't have anywhere he needed to be. Not like he had a curfew anymore.

When the door to his place easily budged open, proving to have already been unlocked, Matt's steps faltered with hesitation. Unsurely, he stood before the doorway, dreading to go further. He sighed and ultimately pushed the door open further. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that this was the part where the unsuspecting teenager was murdered in every horror film.

And there he sat in the living flesh: Freddy Krueger himself was on his living room sofa.

"Did Roger help you get this place?" Mello asked just after Matt passed him a can of Mountain Dew soda. He had initially offered him some of the booze he'd just purchased, but the other had declined with a disgusted grimace, stating that he didn't drink. It was surprisingly innocent of the violent boy, but he didn't blame him. Matt didn't drink for the taste after all.

"Once you turn eighteen, he doesn't just kick you out into the streets," Matt explained. "He helps you out for the first few years or so. Then..."

"You're on your own?"

"Pretty much."

Mello nodded, taking a long gulp of his sugary drink. Matt wanted to know what the fuck happened to his face. He asked as tactfully as he could. "What the fuck happened to your face?"

But what a comfort it was to see his face regardless, even if horribly disfigured. He wanted to reach up and stroke his blemished features—run his fingers over his burn scars.

He needs you.

Mello had come back because he needed Matt's help.

Which he already declined to give when he had hung up the phone.

Mello looked annoyed but answered solemnly,"Things got messy during the Kira Investigation—"

"Understatement much? I mean, yeah, I can definitely see that."

"Would you shut up for once in your life?" Mello snapped at him, gripping his soda can tighter. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about before you hung up on me, asshole. I need your help with the investigation. I know how I probably look to you right now; I know how... pathetic this is, but I don't have anybody else left. Kira wiped out most of my team and resources. I really need you, Matty."

Throb... Throb... Throb...

...went Matt's traitorous heart.

"Weird. Thought you said you didn't need me," He replied, steeling himself so that he could properly handle the oncoming blows, "or anybody else. What happened to that?"

Mello stood up, throwing his soda can on the ground. It stained his carpet green, looking radioactive or something.

"Are you kidding me?!" Mello snarled incredulously. "Is that what this is about? You don't want to help me stop a Mass Murderer all because I said something that broke your little heart when we were kids? Cry me a fucking river, Matt. Do you understand how much bigger this is than all of that?"

"Broke my heart?" He asked, forcing humor into his tone. "Hate to burst your bubble, but the world doesn't revolve around you. And despite what the media'll trick you into believing, it doesn't revolve around Kira either. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I just don't care? What do I personally have at stake in Kira's New World Order?"

He wondered if Kira even considered cybercrimes to be actual crimes. So far, he hadn't been executing the random petty criminals who worked entirely online. To Matt, his illegal online activities did not seem real when they were happening virtually instead of right in front of him. He could divorce himself from his actions, unable to see the consequences on a personal level or in any tangible way that mattered. The person committing credit card fraud and identity scams might as well have been a completely different person from him. A persona. Anonymity protected him if all Kira needed was a name and face.

"Coming with me is a lot better than whatever you have going on for you here," Mello retorted. "Really? You plan on doing this for the rest of your life? Sad, Matt."

"Why do you think insulting me will make me want to help you?" What was he? An anti-smoking poster?

"Forget it. Never mind," Mello muttered darkly and stalked his way toward the exit. "Why did I think this was a good idea? I forgot how much of a self-serving dick you are."

"Nice seeing you too, Mello."