This was it. Finally got a degree under my belt. Not that it's going to do me much good in the cutthroat job market, but at least it was a start. I could've gotten a master's degree from MIT and I'd still end up a part timer at Starbucks during the day and cleaning hotels at night. I'd take my bachelor's in English literature. And as my college years came to an end, so did my relationship with the guy I thought was the one. So much for that. With my lamenting around my apartment came my two roommates surprising me with a little graduation present.

"Cierra?" Morgan knocked on my door, "Cierra, you ok?"

"Fine," I replied flatly, curled up in a ball in my room, wallowing in self-pity and depression.

"Bullshit," her younger sister Laurel stood with her, "Come on, Cierra. You've been in there for two days. The neighbors are starting to ask questions."

"I'm good," I attempted to shoo them away.

"Do you have pants on?" Morgan asked.

"Yes," I grumbled.

The two of them stormed my bedroom door and plopped down on my bed. Couldn't tell those two were related at all. They shared the same mannerisms, the same killer green eyes that have had men drooling at their feet. All I wanted was to be left alone, but these two weren't going to let that happen. No matter how many times I told them no.

"Come on, Cierra," Morgan rested her head on my shoulder, "You need to forget him. Oliver was a dick anyway and you know it."

"We all knew it," Laurel grumbled.

"What she means is," Morgan popped her sister in the shoulder, "We're worried about you, sweetie. We just graduated. Laurel just got through her first year. We need to celebrate!"

"I appreciate the sentiment, guys," I threw myself into my pillows, "But I'd rather not."

"Not even if it meant these…?" Laurel smacked me in the back of my head with a little box. Looked like it had a bracelet in it. But when I shook the box, I didn't hear anything shifting around inside it.

"What are these?" I wondered, sitting up in my bed, "It's empty."

"It's not empty," Morgan promised me, "Just open it."

I rolled my eyes and opened the box. In it were three pieces of heavy paper. I didn't even care about the rest of what it had to say because all I needed to see were two little words: London. England. For the first time in a week, I felt happy tears well up in my eyes, "You guys…"

"Come on," Laurel begged, "It's a week in England and I know you can't say no, you little anglophile, you."

And here we are. In a night club in London. Honestly, I didn't want to go out tonight, but it was better than laying in the hotel room. Just an excuse for Laurel to work her foolproof, you're-going-to-get-laid-tonight, I'm-slutting-you-up-to-the-best-of-my-ability, you're-not-paying-for-a-single-drink magic. And apparently, that meant me getting what she liked to call break up hair, but it was really just an excuse for me to cut my hair short and dye it dark. I didn't think I'd be able to pull off black…or a light, baby pink.

I looked like a high class escort, but I'd persevere. The music was loud enough to drown out my thoughts. The booze was strong enough to make me go numb. But where was I while my favorite pair of sisters were dancing their asses off?

Sober as a bird on a couch somewhat secluded from the rest of the dance floor with Pride and Prejudice in my hand. No one was giving me a second look. No one was buying me drinks. Sorry, Laurel. Not even your magic can save me. Maybe it only works on American boys. At least I had Jane Austen to keep me company. I couldn't complain.

"Cierra!" Morgan may have been a relatively calm and mellow person, but she was a totally different monster when she's had a few, "Come on! Why are you sitting here all by yourself? Come dance with us!"

"Morgan," Laurel pried her fingers off my wrist, "Seriously, Cierra! You've been sitting over here by yourself since we got here. You're getting back on the horse right now."

"No, Laurel," I tried to stop her, "No one's been giving me a second thought all night. I'm thinking about turning in for the night."

"Not everyone's been looking the other way," she pointed out, "Look up there."

Hidden amongst the bright, flashing lights was the DJ. I couldn't make out his face very well, "What about him?"

"That DJ is a fucking babe!" Morgan screeched, "He's a ten!"

"And…?"

"And he hasn't looked away from you all night," Laurel nudged me, "Come on, Cierra. You're in the middle of a dry spell. The DJ's hotter than hell. He's into you. Go say hi."

"I don't know," I put my bookmark in.

"Do it, Cierra," Morgan begged, "All the cool kids are doing it. You should, too."

I shook my head at my two best friends, "I hate you guys."

"That's the spirit!" the two of them sent me off with a massive hug and their sincerest regards. Along with a few lewd hand gestures that I won't be able to unsee. I love Morgan dearly, but she's a pain in the ass when she's drunk.

I started heading up the stairs to the DJ booth and actually saw the DJ's face. Holy shit…They weren't joking. Whoever this guy was, he was gorgeous. He had some deep red eyes that I'm sure those are contacts, but they suit him. He had cheekbones that I could cut myself on if I wasn't careful. I had the most overwhelming desire to bite his face. And all of a sudden, I felt my lunch rising in the back of my throat.

No. I'm not going to throw up. I'm not going to throw up. I'm not going to throw up. I'm going to be ok. Just go say hi, Cierra. It's going to be ok. You're going to be ok. Just go up to him and say hi. Easy for them to say. They had some liquid encouragement. I played the responsible adult. Bravely, I treaded up the stairs.

"Hi," I smiled sweetly.

"Hey," the DJ kept spinning, "Do you have a request?"

"Um…" I rubbed my wrist, "No. Look, I'm going to be honest. My friends are super wasted right now and they practically forced me to come up here and talk to you. According to them, you've been checking me out all night. But like I said, they're really drunk, so…If it's all the same to you, I'm going to go before I over talk and make things awkward. Sorry if I bothered you."

Before I could leave, he took my hand, "Wait…"

"Can I help you?" That came out a little more hostile than I intended.

"Jane Austen," he said, "You were reading Pride and Prejudice, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "So, you really were checking me out and it wasn't my friends' drunken delusion?"

"If we're being honest," he smirked, "You look like someone I knew a long time ago. What's your name?"

"Cierra," I introduced myself. Apparently, just my name struck a slight chord with him, "If you don't mind me asking, what's yours?"

The DJ brought my hand to his lips, not breaking eye contact with me. it almost gave me chills, "Sebastian Michaelis. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mistress."

"Mistress?" I gave him a look, "Just because I look like a high class whore doesn't mean I am one."

"I'm sorry," Sebastian apologized, "Force of habit. Cierra, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "I'm going to go now, Sebastian. It's getting late and I need to get my friends back to our hotel before they do anything stupid. It was nice meeting you."

"Hold on," Sebastian stopped me, "I have one song left before I'm doing with my set. The night's still young. Do you think I could meet up with you? Maybe a café near your hotel? Hot tea sounds delightful and it's always best when shared with someone."

"Sure," I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, "I'm staying at the Whitewood Inn."

"There's a café just next door," he gave me a little smile, "I'll meet you there. Go take care of your friends. Are you sure you don't have any requests?"

"I'm sure," I promised, "I'm sure anything you play will be alright."

"If I couldn't keep the crowd going," Sebastian put a new record on his turntable, "What kind of a DJ would I be?"

"Not a very good one," I realized that was a rhetorical question, "I'll see you later."

"Bye."

I left Sebastian to his work and found my idiot roommates plowed out of their skulls. Fantastic. I had visions of holding someone's hair back at least once by daybreak. Morgan and Laurel both threw an arm around me.

"Cierra!" they sang.

"So…?" Morgan slurred, "Are you going to nail that sexy ass DJ?"

"No," I rolled my eyes, "Come on. I'm taking you two back to the hotel."

"But we just got here!" Laurel whined.

"We've been here for three hours," I corrected, "And you two are shitfaced. It's time to go home now."

"This last song is dedicated to a lovely young lady from America called Cierra," Sebastian's voice boomed from the speakers, "Since she couldn't pick anything when I asked her to."

All of a sudden, a remix of Take Me to Church started playing. I didn't understand why he picked that. I really didn't understand why he dedicated it to me. But both Morgan and Laurel lit up like a damn Christmas tree.

"What?" I chirped, "Maybe it's some other American girl named Cierra."

"No way," Morgan squealed, stumbling over her sister and me on our way out of the front door, "Oh, come on. The guy dedicated his last song of the night to you. You could've stayed for that."

"I had to get you two back," I hated being the mom friend.

"What happened with him, Cierra?" Laurel asked.

"It was nothing!" I assured, putting her and her sister in the back of a cab.

"If he's dedicating his last song to you," she explained, "He's into you. Trust me. I've had a few DJs in the States that did that and we ended up hooking up. It's a big deal, dude."

"You don't think he's expecting sex," I worried, "Do you…?"

"Goddammit, Laurel," Morgan snapped, "Don't scare her like that! You'll be fine, Cierra. It's not like he knows where we're staying."

"Um…" I bit my tongue.

"He knows where we're staying, doesn't he?"

"Uh-huh…"

"Jesus, Cierra!" Morgan popped me in the shoulder, "This guy could be a fucking serial killer for all we know and the DJ gig is a cover up! There's shit on CNN like that!"

"I don't think he's a serial killer," I groaned, "He gave me his full name. I don't think a serial killer would be stupid enough to do that."

"Google him!" Laurel demanded, "He's got to have something. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, anything! Do some cyber stalking."

"I'm not going to cyber stalk him," I settled her.

"Fine," she plucked my phone from my hands, "Then, I will!"

"Laurel!" I squeaked, "You're not cyber stalking the DJ."

"What's his name?" she dodged me.

"Sebastian," I managed to get my phone back, "If I google the man, will you two leave me alone?"

"Yes," they agreed.

Much to my chagrin, I typed Sebastian Michaelis into the search bar. A business Facebook page came up for his music. And a Twitter account to match. And an Instagram account. As far as I could tell, Sebastian wasn't a serial killer.

"Well?" Laurel stood by with baited breath. And her sister wasn't much different.

"What's the internet say about him?" Morgan asked.

"He's clean," I scrolled through his Instagram a little.

"Show the rest of the class!" she moved next to me, looking over my shoulder.

"He's just a regular dude," I assured.

"Any shirtless shots?"

"Morgan!" I scolded.

And of course, there were pictures from a set he did in Maui. And shirtless. Holy shit. Sebastian was nicely cut. And he was interested in me? How? I'm the cute friend at best and he's an obvious ten. He's a twelve. He's off the charts!

"I told you!" Laurel boasted, "I told you that if you let me get you ready, you'd be getting laid tonight. And now, you got a fine ass English DJ sniffing around. My magic is real. My power is genuine. Score one for Laurel!"

"Is he coming around to our room?" Morgan wondered.

"No," I shook my head, paying the cabbie, "I don't think so. He said he was going to finish his set, get tea down the road, and wind down."

"But…?"

"He invited me to join him."

"That's my girl!" Laurel high fived me, "I'm starting to think I'm a bad influence on you."

"I raised her well," Morgan gave me a big hug.

"You didn't raise me," I brought them upstairs and into our room. I put Laurel in her bed and Morgan on the couch, covered them up, and did a once over of myself in the long mirror on the bathroom door. Before I could even tell them to go to sleep, they were both out cold. There was one thing I didn't have to worry about. For being out as long as what we were, I'm surprised I wasn't sleeping, too. I was such an old lady when it came to partying. I wasn't the stereotypical college girl. I was ecstatic to be in bed by ten o'clock.

I went down to the café down the street from our hotel just like Sebastian had asked and found him in a corner booth by himself on his phone with his headphones on. He looked like he was concentrating so hard on something. I didn't want to disturb him. He looked so peaceful. I just sat down across from him and ordered a cup of earl grey and some French fries. I was kind of hungry.

I looked at his phone screen and saw some sort of editing program. The way it was set up, it looked like a drum pad. Working on another mix, maybe? It took him a while before he even realized I was sitting across from him, "Are you going to just sit there or are you going to say something?"

"I didn't wasn't to disturb you," I explained myself, "You seemed pretty balls deep in whatever you were doing."

"I have a show in Ibiza in a couple days," Sebastian told, "I need a new mix. I've got a few things I've been working on, but nothing seems quite right."

"Mind if I hear it?" I asked, "I kind of have an ear for music."

"Do you now?" he smirked, "Alright. Maybe an outside perspective could help. Here. Tell me what you think."

Sebastian put his giant headphones over my head and started playing his latest creation. It was a mashup of Duran Duran and the Nightmare Before Christmas soundtrack and for some strange reason, I was really feeling it. The synthesizer was a little too heavy for my taste, but it had an incredible hook. Especially when it went from the track called "What's This Wolf I'm Hungry For" to one called "Sally's Ordinary World". That one was my favorite. It was absolutely perfect. From the way the words meshed together to the beat, it made me almost swoon.

"They're amazing," I took the headphones off, "Those mashups are insane. Maybe if you ease up on the synth and add a little more with the bass, you'll be good to go."

"Later," he put his phone in his bag, "I'd much rather spend some quality time with you."

"Why?" I wondered, "Honestly, I've been asking myself that since I left the club. Why me?"

"Because," Sebastian put his hand over my right eye, "You reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago. In many, many ways."

"That's it?"

"And," he smiled, "You also have the most beautiful soul I've seen in a very long time. Cierra, you don't understand, but I've lived a lot of life. And I'd like to share something with you, if you promise me you won't show any alarm."

"Ok," I kept my head about me, "What is it? Don't tell me you're married with two kids and your wife is looking for a way to spice up the sex life by having a threesome."

"No," Sebastian chuckled, "Even if I were married, I've been told that my sexual prowess isn't something one grows tired of. If you could have one wish, anything at all, what would it be?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, "For my food to get here faster, I guess."

"Bigger."

"Let's see…" I thought it over, "If my ex-boyfriend could come down with a really wicked case of crabs, I guess I'd sleep better at night. Or herpes. I'd take herpes, too. That's incurable."

"A man broke your heart?" Sebastian's eyes filled with empathy.

"Yeah," I sighed out, "He was a dick anyway, so I guess it was a blessing in disguise."

"What happened?"

"He dumped me shortly after graduation," I told, "For some ditzy ass blonde freshman who was probably used to having a sugar daddy and drove her mom's Tahoe."

"Sounds like he downgraded," Sebastian took my hand, "Cierra, I can make all of your wishes and desires come true."

"No offense, Sebastian," I jumped, "But you sound like every other guy that's ever hit on me."

"But the difference between me and any other guy that's hit on you," he grinned darkly, "is that I can actually make any wish of yours come true. What did you say you wanted? A wicked case of herpes?"

"Yeah," I scoffed, "But…"

He snapped his fingers, "Done. Your ex-boyfriend…Did you two ever have sex?"

"Lost my virginity to him on prom night," I said, "Why?"

"You should be getting a phone call in three…two…one…"

Ring, ring.

I looked down at my phone and saw Oliver's picture on my screen, "You didn't…"

"Answer it."

I accepted the call, "Hello?"

"Cierra?" the other end barked at me, "It's Oliver. Look, I know I'm the last person you want to talk to right now, but I need to tell you something really important."

"Sure," I gave Sebastian a look, "What is it?"

"I think you should get yourself tested," he cringed, "I may have given you herpes. I'm not sure, but I just got out of the shower and I found a rash below decks. Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean I don't still care about you."

"If you still cared, you wouldn't have broken up with me in the first place," I growled, hanging up on him, "How the hell did you do that?"

"Do what?" Sebastian asked.

"That was my ex-boyfriend," I gasped, "He told me he just found a rash and that he might have given me herpes. Are you psychic?"

"No," he explained, "I'm not psychic. Like I said. I can make any wish come true. Any lifelong dream could be realized. Giving your ex herpes was just to prove my power. And I must admit that a little bit of mischief is fun once in a while."

"Powers…?" I grew less skeptical and more scared, "What are you, Sebastian…?"

"Again," he turned a little more serious, "You have to keep perfectly calm. Most people don't have that reaction when they find out about me."

"Ok," I took his hands.

"When I say I've lived a lot of life," Sebastian began, "I don't mean I've done a lot of things and gone a lot of places. I mean that I'm actually centuries old. Maybe even a millennium. I haven't really kept track. I lost count around the mid-1800s."

"Sebastian," my eyes grew wide and my levels of fear shot through the roof, "What are you…?"

"I'm a demon, Cierra," he confessed, "When I said you reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago, he was my master and quite possibly the best soul I've ever had the pleasure of consuming."

"Ok, crazy guy," I got up, "I have to go."

"I just gave your ex-boyfriend herpes and you don't believe that I'm a demon?"

"No," I grabbed my bag, "It's because you're a demon that I'm leaving."

"The traditional views of demons are completely backward," he clarified, stopping me, "We're not all complete savages. We do consume souls. We don't kill unless it's a rogue demon, but they're pretty well kept in line. What I would do if you were to accept me is you and I would sign a contract. We'd have an agreement that I would do whatever it is you asked me until your ultimate wish was fulfilled."

"Then, what would happen once my wish was fulfilled?" I asked cautiously.

"I would take your soul."

"Where?"

"Hell," he confirmed, "Well, technically, you'd be going to Hell. Your soul would be more or less sustenance for me."

"I'd have to be truly desperate to sell my soul to a demon," I growled, "No. The answer is no. I'm not making a deal with you, Sebastian. Bye."

Before he could say another word, I took off. Why? Why do all of the guys I go after end up being either terrible or completely bat shit insane? But then again…A demon in my back pocket…? No. Bad idea, Cierra. Don't do it. I just needed some sleep.

The next few days went by in a such a flash that I couldn't believe it was over when we got to the gate. But the whole thing with Sebastian was still bugging me. Mostly because Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum wouldn't let me live it down. I couldn't tell them he was a demon. There would be no way they'd believe me and they'd probably have me put in a hospital. And I'd rather not go down that route.

Our flight for JFK was called and I stood in line with the girls, waiting to board. Until another flight had caught my ear. There was one boarding for Ibiza in ten minutes. If I remembered correctly, there was a particular demon DJ playing a show in Ibiza tonight. That was a two-and-a-half-hour flight nonstop. I had plenty of time to get to switch my ticket and get to the gate.

"Hey, guys," I tapped on their shoulders, "I'll catch up with you back in the States."

"Where the hell are you going?" Laurel squealed as I ran out of line.

"Cierra!" Morgan called after me.

"I'm going to Ibiza!" I ran off to switch my ticket and bolted for the gate.

On the entire flight, all I could think of was what I was going to do. What I was going to say. If I was going to accept Sebastian's offer. This was completely nuts. I mean, I was about to go to Ibiza for no other reason than to see a damn demon! He was a DJ before I found out he was a demon. And his set list did sound pretty incredible. I couldn't believe I was doing this.

I just wish he would've told me the name of the club he was going to be playing tonight. When I landed, I had no idea where I was going. I was starting to run low on funds. This was probably the most irresponsible snap decision I've ever made in my entire life. But at this point, I didn't care. I had one thing on my mind. Find Sebastian.

Knowing him, it'd be the weirdest hole in the wall. I found a place that was literally called the Devil's Trap. That had to be it. I heard "What's This Wolf I'm Hungry For" coming out of the front door. I had to go in. I just had to. I didn't understand why Sebastian had such a pull on me, but he did. I didn't know if it was perfect face, his incredible talent, the sound of his voice.

But I was just a face in the crowd. Just another face that Sebastian would see during his sets. Until he realizes I'm not just a face in the crowd. I was the girl that said no to him back in London. I was the girl that knew his dirty little secret.

"I'd like to make a dedication," Sebastian's voice thundered over the crowd, "To the American girl from the streets of London. You know who you are."

And sure enough, he started to play "Sally's Ordinary World" for me. I didn't want to, but I started up to his booth. Something had taken over my body completely or I had a momentary lapse of insanity, but I stared into Sebastian's eyes like I could see into his innermost thoughts.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, "I thought you were going back to America this morning."

"Yes."

"Pardon?" he gasped.

"You heard me," I stood my ground, "You asked me if I had one wish that I wanted more than anything. Well, I do. I want to be able to find love again. I'm sick of wallowing in my self-pity. I'm tired of letting my exes get me down. I want to find love again, Sebastian. And I'm willing to give you my soul for it."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Cierra?" he worried.

"I'm positive," I nodded, "I want to find my true love."

"Alright," Sebastian smiled, "Let's do this."

A/N: I'm not sure if I'm going to keep this a one shot. I might write a sequel to it one day. The only reason why I cut it off where I did was because it's getting late and I promised you kids in the Kuroshitsuji fic that I'd have it up on Saturday. At the time I'm writing this, I have about twenty-five minutes left in my Saturday, so here we are. But I had seen some fan art of Sebastian as a DJ and like I grabbed the wrong end of a curling iron, I had the most amazing punch in the face of inspiration I could've ever hoped for and I knew I had to write a fic for it. So, here we are. And if you caught the parallels, let me know. See you later! xx