Author's Note: I know, I really shouldn't be starting a new fanfiction when I still have five others to work on. However, I don't think I'll be touching Wo-Man any time soon, Imperfection has a few chapters written I just haven't had the inspiration to type up, and I'm somehow stuck in a writer's block for Death Machine. Don't ask about Ghost of Days Gone By, my South Park fanfic. Think of it as a drabble, if you will.

As for what got me inspired for this, weeeell…I actually have been in serious need of good MattxMello fanfiction, but can't seem to find any good new ones that aren't already 50,000 words or whatever. I don't think I've written a full-length MattxMello story yet, so this shall be fun…Oh, and, um…I actually got inspired for this by the movie 13 Going on 30, but this story is truly my own. There's no magic wishing dust or going forward/backward in time involved for the characters themselves. There will be flashbacks, though. Everything will remain realistic, as well. Oh, and this was also partially inspired by a book I'm reading right now…

This takes place in an AU universe and Mello shall not be part of the Mafia or part of a fashion magazine, FYI. I will try to use as many DN characters as possible only because I feel like it. I'll try to stay true to their characters, however.

Warning: Swearing is really it. This is going to remain rated T partially 'cause I don't feel like writing any lemons and partially 'cause I think it fits better for this story. If I decide to make it rated M, I'll warn you and change the rating. Oh, and name reveals, if you couldn't tell by the summary…

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters. I do not own 13 Going on 30, either. I do own some of the ideas in this story, though!

Caught in Fate's Dance

Chapter 1 - Mello

I stormed into the head's office, the door banging off the wall and almost back into my face if I hadn't strutted towards the desk, arms swinging by my sides in help to propel me forward. "Lawliet!" I screeched and slammed on his desk with two open palms.

The dark-haired man calmly looked up at me from where he was delicately placing encrypted papers through the shredder. His bowtie was askew and his pantsuit was its usual unironed self. He certainly didn't get his job based on his interview skills. No, he got it because of his brains, the best brains in the country, possibly the world. Should be the world, with what he was handling every day.

I, on the other hand, worked my way up with my social skills and well as my intelligence. My parents were wealthy enough to send me to the top colleges and graduate schools after I attended one of the country's best all-boys boarding schools. I'd made friends with soon-to-be powerful people in those years and it was paying off rather well, despite my loathing of all human kind, including those so-called "friends."

"Mr. Keehl," Lawliet finally began, "You know I'd prefer it if you knocked first."

Eyes bugging out, I yelled back, "I've no time for knocking! I need that damn technician here right now! I hate computers; I hate passwords; I hate new computers that need new passwords…" I began to ramble as my boss began to gently lead me out the door and down the hall back to my own office. I didn't need this. I really didn't. I hated my office. It was too compact, claustrophobic. I hated tight, boxed-in spaces. I'd rather be in the bleached-white labs surrounded by my test tubes and my experiments. But no, I had to wait for a technician to mess with a new computer after my old one…mysteriously broke…

They can't prove it was my boot that went through that monitor.

As deadly calm as always, Lawliet said, "Calm down, Mr. Keehl. He's only a few minutes late. He probably didn't think of adding in the extra time it takes to get through security here." My breathing slowed slightly, but my face was still contorted in rage and my body refused to relax. "Ah, here he is, waiting outside your door. See, if Mr. Keehl hadn't stormed into my office like that, he could've already begun and not wasted any time…"

"Shut it," I hissed, pulling out of his grasp and stomping towards the tech person waiting patiently at my door, looking almost amused at my frustration.

"You've got quite a bit of security here," he stated, an almost-smile beginning to form on his face, but unable to reach his eyes. I didn't care.

"You're late," was all I said before unlocking my office and sauntering inside.

He looked around, taking in what little things I had around my office. There were no pictures of families like the other workers here, no vacation souvenirs. Just a few world maps and generic cell diagrams and models. But the desk and chair were beautiful and expensive, as was the brand new computer the Company bought me. "Nice digs," he said in appreciation.

"I'm not paying you to check out my office," I replied tersely. "I'm paying you to set up my new computer."

"What happened to your old one?" he asked, genuinely curious. He looked at me then, eyes digging into mine, almost begging for an answer, probably because he didn't want any harm to have come to his precious technology.

"None of your business."

There was something in his eyes, something familiar. They shown green through his glasses and contrasted his bright red hair. The curiosity was something only a child would have, unneeded and unwanted in the workplace. He was probably new to his job. Idiot. I didn't care if I'd ever seen him before or again, I just wanted him in and out as quickly as possible so I could go back to my lab.

He slapped his forehead as if punishing himself. "Sorry!" he cried. "I know that was too personal, not profession at all! To tell you the truth, this is my first call. Just moved here recently and got this job. After a bit of training, here I am! Don't worry, I know better than to ask you what you're going to use your new computer for or what you do for a living. And I'm already really experienced in this field, really."

He talked too much.

"So, what exactly would you like me to do?" Like he really didn't know…

I stared at the man for a moment before looking back at my desk. "You need to set up these computers with as much software as you can; I don't want anybody to be able to access the files."

He replied, "Yes, Mr. Keehl," before beginning his job. I didn't remember ever telling him my name, and he wasn't supposed to know his clients' names, according to his employer. That's when it hit me, coming at me from a faint trace of light and turning into a roaring train. He'd lost a lot of baby fat, stopped wearing his dorky goggles, and seemed to have forgotten how to smile, but it was definitely my old Matt.

Approximately twenty years previously

Laughter filled the basement as my best friend watched me crash my virtual car yet again. "Shut up!" I cried, shoving him into the couch's armrest. He only laughed harder before I stole his controller, forcing his own car to crash. "Aw, no fair!" he whined, but I wouldn't have it and instead tackled him.

He started to laugh again as we began to wrestle, somehow falling to the floor. By this point, my anger had subsided slightly and I had begun to laugh as well.

This was just a typical day for us. Matt would hang at my house after school while his foster parents were either at work or arguing with each other to the point of violence. At least, I bet they got violent. They never harmed Matt, though. He was safe. Parents come together for the weirdest of things, like raising a child.

We would usually do our measly amount of homework, I'd give him some of the homework my private tutor gave me, he'd illegally download a video game somehow, and we'd play to our hearts' content the violent games my parents would rather I avoid. I really sucked at the video games, though…But the plotlines were always so interesting!

It was a nice life. Though I couldn't really remember how we became friends, I had a feeling it had something to do with my defending him when he was bullied years before then. Now, we were preteens and didn't really care about beginnings or ends. It was all about the present. And in the present, we were best friends, always had each other's backs, and were utterly inseparable.

That is, until Matt's weight pinned me down that day. He often won our wrestling matches only because of his sheer mass. He was chubby, but he only said it was baby fat and he would grow out of it soon. That's what the school nurse said to him, at least, when he went to her to get an ice pack after another round of bullying. I wasn't with him all the time; I couldn't stop them all. But if the people were caught, they would have to deal with me, and many had learned that lesson the hard way…

He looked down on me through his orange-tinted goggles. He always wore them, though I could never figure out why. He said he liked the view of the world in orange, and I figured it had something to do with his constant gaming and computer staring. But I wondered at that very moment if it was because they shielded his soul from the world. One of the books I'd been reading in my spare time said that the eyes are the window to the soul, after all…

So, I never knew the emotions playing through his head as he leaned down, not breaking his eye contact with me. His face was flushed, as was mine, but I just thought that was from our physical playing, not anything else. Our lips connected in the briefest of touches. His mouth was soft and warm and it felt…good. That's the only word I could think of to describe that moment, slightly crushed under his weight with his soft lips and curious eyes staring back at me…

And then my brain caught up with my body and I started struggling, screaming, "Get off! Get off, you lardass!" It was a word I'd heard on the television late at night, when my parents thought I was asleep. It sounded fitting in the situation, though I knew he wasn't actually that fat, just compared to my skinny self.

He quickly scrambled off of me and landed on his butt on the floor. I screamed some more, standing and running to the opposite wall. I could never remember what I said after that, but I knew it was something along the lines of "Get out of my house" and "I never want to see you again, you homo." I think I probably put in a few slurs as well, but I bet I blocked that out.

I grew up knowing that gay people were an abomination. They were not meant to be together and they served no purpose in the grander scheme of things. Sure, they can claim they love each other, but in the end, you know they're only doing that because no woman would ever want an effeminate, unmanly "man" like them. They're disgusting, only trying to get attention or something.

I couldn't possibly associate with a gay person, myself. And my parents would positively murder the two of us if they ever found out.

In the years since that day, my views softened and matured. I eventually learned through the many classes I took in college about genetics, biology, and psychology that it was actually natural to be born homosexual. It was still gross and I wouldn't associate myself with one, but…that was my choice.

Matt had left my house that day almost in tears. I knew better than to spread any rumors about him, but I never saw him at school after that. I hoped for a while, though I tried to stifle any thoughts of him, that he didn't think that I would do something like turn the whole school against him more or something. He was still my best friend at heart, even if I could never stand being near him again. I missed his company for a while, too, and my parents wondered what had happened to us, but I refused to tell them anything.

A few weeks after our fight—if one can call it a fight—I finally went to his house to talk with him. He was missing a lot of school and I was worried that he wouldn't be able to catch up. I knew better than to talk with him again if I was trying to distance myself from him, but I just did it on pure impulse, a spur-of-the-moment decision after school.

His foster mother answered the door in tears, but got angry when she saw me. When I asked if I could speak to Matt, she'd told me that he had called his social worker and was taken out of his foster home, claiming it wasn't a good environment for a young child. After that, her husband had finally left her and they were getting a divorce. She blamed it on me for hurting Matt so much and I hightailed it out of there before she threw something at me.

Somewhere deep in my heart, I realized I couldn't continue worrying about my old best friend. He was gone and I wasn't going to see him again, what I wished for all along. I deluded myself into thinking this was a good thing, that I didn't really need friends if I wanted to get ahead and succeed in life. I didn't need relationships, no girlfriend or anything. A competitive all-boys school was welcomed in the end, though by then Matt had long since been forgotten to the dark depths of my hollow heart, if only to completely numb me from the pain.

Years later, as I began my career, and he was little more than a stranger's face I had seen in passing while walking the streets of one of the many cities I'd lived in over the years. He was gone.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Caught in Fate's Dance. The title, btw, comes from something in the next chapter. I have a feeling I'm really going to enjoy writing this story. And as hinted, yes, Mello is not wearing his usual leather, but a suit. I guarantee that he'll wear leather eventually, but I'm not giving anything away. I'm also not totally giving away his job just yet. It's meant to be obscure for a reason, though our little genius Matty might just figure it out…

Next chapter will be from Matt's POV as he sees Mello for the first time in twenty years. However, his life has been completely different…((This is probably the first fanfic ever where Matty was chubby as a kid. It really seems fitting for a gamer, though…))

Please review if you could! I love getting them and they inspire me like no other. If you have any suggestions, all are welcomed and you never know if one will wind up in the story. If you have constructive criticism, I'd love it as well!