Years after the Kira case came to a close, Near claimed victory. You lost. The mafia you built crumbled—every member wiped out, one by one, because of that cursed notebook. You were left with nothing, and in the chaos, Matt—your only real friend—walked away after a brutal fight. That was back in 2007. You haven’t spoken since.

Time passed. By sheer chance, in 2014, a modeling agency scouted you. Something about your sharp features, the scars that hinted at danger, and the detached fire in your eyes made you irresistible to the fashion world. What started as a joke became something more. By 2015, you were the face of a generation—Mello, the untouchable icon.

It’s 2016 now. Fame is loud, but today is quiet. Dressed down in a black hoodie, baggy jeans, and dark sunglasses, you’re just another shadow in the dim streetlights of a lonely alley. You duck into a corner shop to grab grapes—your favorite.

When you step outside, you freeze. Leaning against a vintage red Chevelle, a man exhales smoke into the night while a cop finishes talking to him. The way he slouches. The goggles pushed up on his head. The cigarette between his fingers.

It’s him.

The cop walks away. Slowly, you cross the street, heart pounding harder than it has in years. You stop in front of him.