A/N: Hopefully you enjoy the nice little introduction. Please note that there is a lot of music in this fic. So if you're not into a mix of song fics and musically inspired chapters.. Probably not the story for you.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Death Note. I only own the band name, and the plot. 3
Warnings: This story is rated M for future chapters. It will contain language, drugs, alcohol, sexual situations.
They said all teenagers scare the living shit out of me
They could care less as long as someone'll bleed
So darken your clothes or strike a violent pose
Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me
I can still remember the first time I heard them. Focus. The new up and coming band. I was 16 when I heard their song on the radio for the first time. It was an anthem to the kids my age who were different. I wasn't exactly accepted by most of society. Especially in my own family.
The one person who truly understood me, my sister, had left. She was four years my senior. She had gone off to New York to study at NYU. Se was aspiring to be an actress. Not that our parents approved. They had planned on her being the doctor, and me being the police officer. But not just any police officer. Something like FBI or CIA. We were supposed to be great. They told her they wouldn't allow her to go off to a city such as New York City. Waste away her youth with a dream she'd never achieve.
Then she got a scholarship. I was happy for her. She got the fuck out of this hell hole. The down side? I was alone. So when I heard this band on the radio, it was a God sent. They became my obsession. Saying everything I couldn't. I had every intention of following my sister to New York City. And as soon as possible at that.
What did I want to do with my life? Fuck if I knew. I just couldn't be here anymore. It got to the point where my father began trying to beat the devil out of me, and make room for God. What a load of shit. What happened to "you are created in God's image"? Obviously, he created me with some sort of plan. Oh, I guess I should introduce myself.
My name, is Mihael Keehl. My sister started calling me Mello when I was 14. A sort of joke to how very un-mellow I truly am.
Tonight I wash my hands of you
You set the bar I could not live up to
Tonight the light is breaking through
So thank you very little and send me postcards from hell
The song I was blaring after graduation. Again. Focus. I was still in love with their music. It matured as I did. I tried to do research on them. However, the only info I got was a few names. No pictures. No background information. Nothing. Apparently, they did this on purpose, which, at the time, royally pissed me off. At least I was able to listen to the music without my parents complaining. I wasn't sure at the time if it was a good or bad thing. I had been leaning towards bad.
My parents kicked me out after I started refusing to change to their will anymore. I had to move in with an uncle. He was also 'disowned'.. So he understood and took pity. The reason I say it was bad? My uncle was Rod Ross. Notorious Mafia leader in Los Angeles. For the past two years I've been his little errand boy. I learned how to shoot a gun. I learned how to kill or be killed. My heart was iced over, and hardened. But now? I'm 18.
I graduated high school hell. Valedictorian actually. Yeah, chew on that. Mafia boss and top of my graduating class. But now, I get to leave. Finally. Rod didn't make it a big deal. Sure, he was upset he was losing one of his top guys. He tried to get me to stay. I had already promised my sister though.
I was going to college. Majoring in criminal justice. Yeah, after everything, I was still doing what my parents had wanted all along. But I had no idea what else to do. I would be on my own though, since she dropped out of NYU. At least, that's what she told me. She was apparently an apprentice to some fashion bitch or whatever. She was on top. She was a total bitch.
What can I say? She said she was busy and traveling a lot, but she had her own place. I was going to work for her. She needed some sort of live in security. Good thing I learned how to shoot. I think this is the biggest reason why Rod let me go without much of a fight. He may be a dick, but he cared about my sister and I. So, here I am, moving to New York City.
"Mello? You ready?" I had been ready for years. In a literal sense? Two weeks. I didn't own much. I'm not a material guy. I owned more books than clothes. All of my possessions I had shipped ahead, knowing Rod wouldn't do it once I was gone. Lazy fuck. No. Untrustworthy fuck. That's more like it.
"Yeah. Let's go." I pulled my i-pod out and plugged in the headphone, putting one bud in my ear, and throwing the dock into my duffel bag and hurried after Rod. Would I have still gone if I had known everything that I was about to go through in a few years? Let us save that question for later..
A/N: Short, yes. But it had to be. Just a little intro to the story. The actual story will be a few years later. 3 It'll come together.
Songs used: #1- "Teenagers" by My Chemical Romance
#2- "Postcards From Hell" by Zebrahead