Magnus flipped bored through a fashion magazine and finally stashed it in the pocket before him. He had read it twice and wasn't sure if he should follow the trend and wear houndstooth tweed. Houndstooth – okay, but tweed. No way. He decided to let his mind and gaze wander – he was too much buzzing with anticipation to read anyways. Magnus sat in a plane at John F. Kennedy International Airport and waited for the aircraft to finally take off. He was leaving to Los Angeles for some days. Sometimes even New York became too small for him, especially in winter time. The city was bathed in glistering snow, the sounds muffled by the thick snow mantle and the city, that never slept, seemed to doze at least. And Magnus got bored. If you lived long enough – although you lived in one of the most exciting cities in the world – someday you knew everything. The same bars and restaurants, the same streets, even the same people seemed to show up on every exhibition, party or gala Magnus attended. And Magnus was bored to avoid all his exes, that seemed to follow him. It was time for a change of scene.

Actually he could portal to Los Angeles, but sometimes he enjoyed the pleasures of traveling the mundane-way. He liked the feeling to be pressed into the seat, when the plane accelerated and took off. The feeling to be high above everything that bothered him, seeing the clouds from high above and flirting a bit with the gorgeous stewards and stewardesses – and tomato juice – okay, tomato juice with vodka. Okay, lots of Bloody Maries with lots of vodka in it.

As he let his gaze wander over the other passengers a quick smirk passed his lips. Somehow he felt like Momo in The Men in Grey, a book he had read some time ago. The grey-clad and grey-skinned men stole the time from the people, except from Momo who defeated the grey men and gave the people their time back. Magnus longed not to give the people their time back, but their sense for fashion. They all were dressed in black, dark blue or grey – the women mostly wrapped up in enormous scarfs, oversized hoodies and big UGG boots, the men in suits or jeans and sweater. He was perfectly dressed for Los Angeles: soft, white, woven moccasins, tight white jeans and a deep V-neck tank top with colorful flowers, his writs and fingers decorated with lots of sparkling jewelry, bracelets and rings.

Magnus was looking forward to Los Angeles. He was longing for the warmth, the sun and cloudless skies. He wanted to spend his days at the beach, golden his tan a bit and do nothing – except maybe the one or another surfer boy. And if he was in the mood for it, he wanted to visit the Lux, a new nightclub in L.A. even the New Yorkers were talking about.

As the plane finally took off, Magnus fell soon asleep, dreaming of white beaches and blue oceans.

It was late, almost midnight, when Magnus entered the Lux. He had already spent some days in Los Angeles, mostly on the beaches, ate tons of fish and seafood and drank lots of cocktails decorated with small umbrella picks. His tan was bronzing and he had enjoyed some of the fancy beauty treatments Hollywood had to offer. Magnus felt relaxed and good-looking and was now in the mood for party. He had bribed the bouncer with some green bank notes and jumped the line of waiting people. He was too gorgeous the be left outside waiting in the night.

As the elevator doors opened, Magnus stepped out and stopped at the balcony, that protruded into the nightclub. Two rolling stairs with iron wrought balustrades led down to the dancefloor. He leaned on the banister and let his gaze wander. Every club had its own chemistry, its own principles – he wanted to absorb everything first – and by the way it was the perfect place to see and to be seen.

The whole room was illuminated by single lightbulbs that were aligned on the ceiling and casted their golden light down on the swaying people. Soft looking couches and sofas with dark purple covers surrounded the area. Behind the bar mirrors reflected the exquisite choice of liquors, the dancing people and the golden light of the illuminated sign reading LUX. But the most striking thing was a black piano in the middle of the room.

As Magnus felt the first glances resting on him, he started slowly to walk down one of the stairs. He wanted to be seen.

He wore pointed and shining black leathers shoes, black suit pants and a black shirt with a band collar. For once he wore just three slim golden rings and a single necklace with a star pendant and no bracelets, he didn't want to narrow the beauty of his jacket: it was also black, but only half. On the other half of it golden sequins formed the pattern of limbs and branches. Smoky eyes with a bit of golden eyeliner to emphasize the brown of his eyes and some golden streaks in his gelled hair made his outfit perfect.

Deliberately he strolled to the bar, enjoying the hidden glances he got. He leaned on the top of the bar and beckoned the bartender so he could order. The tall and slender woman spun around, her high braided ponytail flying behind her as she turned. Dark, intelligent eyes in a beautiful face with dark and full lips, transfixed him.

"Let me guess, something disgusting like a strawberry daiquiri?" the woman asked with a crooked eyebrow and a sharp jerk of her head.

With a sweet smile Magnus replied: "Actually I wanted to go for scotch on the rocks, but to fill in the cliché I think I will take an appletini."

With a snort the bartender pushed the glass over to Magnus and took the money without returning the change back.

Magnus rolled his eyes. Demons had absolutely no sense for humor… or change.

Even the smells of perfume and alcohol in the nightclub couldn't cover the smell of rotten garbage that was so typical for demons. But Magnus didn't care, if the mixologist was a demon – he was on holiday and wouldn't do anything about it – especially because she did amazing appletinis with the exact amount sourness in it. He took one more sip of his drink and walked over to the piano. A dark haired man had taken seat on the small bench before it and tickled the ivories. As the dance music died away, he began to play.

"…Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun

Well, there is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boys
And God I know I'm one"

Lucifer hit the last few keys on the piano and as the last tunes faded away, applause flooded the LUX. He loved to be carried away with the music. To blend in with the notes, the melodies, the rhythm and the beauty of it. To reflect and express desires, immorality and guilty pleasures and call it art.

He stood up, took a bow and walked over to the bar. While he did so, three blond girls in short dresses followed him in his wake.

Mazikeen filled a tumbler with Whiskey and handed it Lucifer as he reached her.

"May I introduce Sandy, Mandy and Candy to you?", he said after he had taken a large gulp of the liquid. "Want to join?", the devil asked with a seductive smile.

"Let me think… no.", Maze replied, looking disgusted. "Is it not boring to f*** just blonde s****? They look all the same and are so dumb."

"Lucifer? Are we finally going upstairs?" one of the girls asked, stroking his chest and fluttering her long eyelashes.

"One second, honey". Was it Mandy? Or Candy? Maybe Sandy. Lucifer decided, that it didn't matter and turned once again to Mazikeen.

"But they are easy to get.", he smiled wickedly.

"Boring.", the demon teased. "What about something more challenging?"

"I'm in. I love a challenge. You've got someone in mind?" he turned to the three girls: "And be patient, there is enough Lucifer for everyone." He turned back again, flattening his suit, the three blondes had crumpled with their attempts to tug him upstairs.

"Hm… maybe…" Mazikeen let her gaze wander over the dancing people and stopped at a tall brunette in tight leather pants, black tank top and a superior attitude. "her."

Lucifer followed her glace and stopped several meters before the woman. "No. I want that one". He pointed at a tall man with golden skin and lots of glitter.

"Seriously?", Mazikeen snorted. "He sheds glitter in his appletini.".

"I love sticky, clingy, tacky… body glitter." Said it and left. Leaving the three blondes utterly crestfallen with Maze, who pushed past them, following Lucifer and muttering something that sounded like: "If you don't want her, I will take her."

After the piano and the applause had fallen silent, Magnus talked to a blonde surfer boy, who was stupid as he was beautiful. He tossed back his drink, to get a new one and find an excuse to escape boring talks about which wave was the best one to surf.

"Let me get a new one for you.". The dark haired man, who had played the piano before, appeared suddenly in front of him and took his glass. His fingers touched lightly the back of Magnus hand.

He was a bit taller than Magnus and had to lean down to whisper in his ear. "I'm Lucifer Morningstar." His breath caressed Magnus's neck and he could feel that goose bumps rose from his spine all over his body.

Magnus had to admit that he liked what he saw. As Lucifer had played the piano he had admired the beauty of the music – but not only that one. From this close the effect of Lucifer's attractiveness was almost breathtaking. A tall and slender body, almost too thin to be just slim. Deep brown eyes that hold the pleasures and the suffering of eternity. Thick black hair, soft stubbles on his cheeks and a slightly too big nose to make his looks not all too perfect. Magnus somehow felt reminded of the fair folk, although he couldn't smell the scent of dead flowers that seemed to cling to faeries. But nonetheless Lucifer seemed to unite the beauty of angels and the viciousness and malevolence of demons.

He stepped a bit closer – they were almost touching now. "Magnus Bane. Nice to meet you, Lucifer Morningstar.", Magnus breathed.

"I see. Someone else with a sense for an illustrious and appellative name." Lucifer smiled and eyeballed Magnus from top to bottom and back. He really liked what he saw. Hard and strong muscles shifted beneath the fabric of his shirt. Gentle brown eyes, that held secrets to discover, soft lips to kiss, pronounced cheekbones to give his face some sharpness and soft black hair to run his fingers trough.

Lucifer stepped a bit back and interlinked his gaze was Magnus's. "Tell me. What do you truly desire?"

"A new drink?" Magnus seemed a bit confused.

"Oh. A complex character. I should have expected this." Lucifer kept his gaze direct on Magnus.

"Actually it's a bit creepy, if you don't blink."

Now it was Lucifer who seemed to be confused, but just for the fraction of a second. Lucifer shook his head slightly as if to clear it. Had he really seen cat eyes? As he looked back, Magnus's eyes were still the soft brown as before. "A new drink so."

It was Magnus who closed the distance between them again and wrapped his hand around Lucifer's wrist: "I'd love to. But maybe somewhere more private?"