From the Ashes

"Really?! They paid for her lawyer?" Saffi gasped in shock as Magnus nodded.

"So, you can see that I have no love for them. From what I have heard they have allowed her to live with them since we've been separated."

"That's just... fucked up," Saffi said, shaking her head in disgust.

"Tell me about it," Magnus said, flicking his ashes.

"So the moment we were first in front of a judge, I knew I was in for a fight given my lawyer's reaction to the woman as she took her seat. When she ordered that we go to counseling to see if we could save the marriage I flatly refused. I was not going to waste another second on that woman when she didn't have the balls to end our marriage before she went and slept with another man. If she had done that I would have respected her more. Yet she took the coward's way out and thought she could have it all, only to have it come crashing down on her. When the judged warned that I would be in contempt of court if I didn't comply with her order I told her to suck my dick!" Saffi laughed madly at that. "As the bailiffs led me away to the holding cells I flipped off both my wife and the judge."

"So how long did they hold you for?" Saffi asked, arching an eyebrow when Magnus smiled.

"Thirty days," Magnus said, proudly.

"Wow. In two months you've gone from losing your wife and a month in jail..."

"Totally worth it, meant I didn't have to see that bitch for a whole month. I was in heaven," Magnus chuckled.

"So what did you do when you got out?" Saffi asked, her mind wondering how she was going to get him to pose for a photo. She was also a photographer as well as a journalist. This way, like now, she could take as many photos as she needed without having to hire a photographer. Plus, the extra money helped whenever she turned in an assignment.

"At first nothing. I had about ten grand in the bank, so I knew I'd be okay for a while until I had to look for work. Then... I read about Bobby Dean's death."

"The former guitarist for Straža Smrti?" Saffi asked, clarifying for the record.

"The one and only," Magnus nodded. "It was your magazine that told me about how the others in the band were holding auditions for his replacement a week after his funeral. While Death Metal isn't my kind of music, my grandmother would have called it nothing but noise with all the screaming and whatnot." Saffi noting how his tone softened when he had mentioned his grandmother. "So I thought: What the hell!" Magnus said, shrugging his shoulders. "What did I have to lose, right?" he asked, shooting Saffi a look. "Not like I had a wife anymore, a marriage, or a family that supported me. So with a little help from google on how to make a good video without looking like crap seeing how I was doing this on my own. I had looked up everything about the man. How he played, watching a lot of their videos so I could watch how his fingers moved along the neck of his guitar. I wasn't out to outplace the guy; that would just be rude. I thought if I could emulate his style then a strange new sound wouldn't off put their fans when they have listened to their songs for so long. I wanted to show that I respected his memory being so fresh in their minds."

"I would say it worked," Saffi said, smiling coyly at him.

"Who knew! I didn't think Haleema or the other two would even bother to watch the video I sent in to them. Little did I know of the events that would unfold two weeks later."

"How did you react when you got that notice that told you you'd made it to the second round?" Saffi asked, liking this side of him. Anger didn't suit his face all that well. She found his smile far more charming than that burning look of hatred.

"I was floored! I mean I knew I played well and all, yet to play for a band as well-known like Straža Smrti or at least have a chance to play for the members of the band I was excited as hell! However, I was also nervous as hell too," Magnus said, with a small smile.

"Why?!"

"Well, like I've said I've never been in a band, and I've never played in front of someone I didn't know," Magnus said, looking down bashfully.

"So who was it that got the pleasure in listening to those sweet melodies?" Saffi asked, enjoying how those cheeks of his heated. She found it rather cute.

"My grandmother. Before my grandfather died he would always play Flamenco and Malaguena for her especially when the sun was starting to set. When I was a little boy, I would watch as she would slowly twirl on the porch of their house, her hand held the side of her long skirt as she danced for him. She would always have these rose color cheeks as she did. My grandfather was the reason I wanted to play the guitar. He always said to me: music knows no creed, no race, no nationality, only the pure joy in the notes. It didn't matter where the music came from as long as it was played from the heart," Magnus said, a little sad as the memories of his grandfather flashed in his mind.

"He sounded like a very wise man," Saffi said, reaching across the patio table, her hand covering his. Her thumb softly brushed against the back of his hand.

"He was," Magnus nodded. "So when I was good enough and knew I wouldn't butcher the songs. One afternoon, this was before I met Iona, I raced over to her house. Throwing the strap over my head, the body of my acoustic resting against my chest. My fingers strummed the copper strings, playing Dark Gipsy -- another Spanish song -- to entice my grandmother out of the house. I knew she could hear me given how the windows were all open at that time of the year. I smiled as I heard the screen door open, my grandmother standing there just staring at me. Then..." A warm smile rose on Magnus's lips as he thought back to that day. "I started to play Flamenco; her hands flew to her lips as my fingers played those strings masterfully. I knew ever since grandpa died that she feared she would never hear it again. My heart grew in confidence as my grandmother began to twirl like she had always done for my grandfather..."

"She must have really been pleased and so happy that you did that for her?" Saffi asked, noting how he glanced down at her hand. Chills of excitement ran up her spine as her fingertips ran along the back of his hand as she leaned back into her seat.

"She was, so whenever I could, I would make sure I was there before sunset to play those songs to her, to let her know that grandpa's words still lived inside of me."

"Are you still in touch with her?"

"With my grandmother?" Magnus asked, to which Saffi nodded. "Of course, I am, I divorced my parents not my grandmother. So back to my story, I read the email they sent me over and over again sure they were pranking me. The date they wanted me there staring at me like it was going to reach out from the screen to swallow me hole. I paced my apartment like a mad man, my heart raced as I paced my living room as I debated on whether or not to reply my conformation. The money for the ticket wasn't a problem, it was the fear that I would freeze up when I got there. So... I sent the conformation before my nerves could get the better of me. My face fell into my hands wondering what I had done. After an hour of second guessing myself, I bought the plane ticket and made arrangements for my mail and other things to be taken care of while I was gone. I didn't know how long I'd be gone so I was covering my bases.

My grandmother took me to the airport. She was the only one I told where I was going. She wished me luck as she hugged me. I could see how proud she was knowing how my grandfather would have been overjoyed to know that I at least had the chance to follow my dreams just like how he wanted when he was my age, yet he had a family to raise. All through the flight I hoped and prayed I didn't fall flat on my face as I knew I would be taken straight to their studio once I landed. While I kept my cool on the outside, on the inside I was a nervous wreck as whomever they had hired drove me through downtown LA," Magnus said, pinching his leg underneath the table to make sure he wasn't dreaming. It still felt like a dream to him, even after they had just gotten back from finishing the tour on which Bobby Dean had died due to an overdose.

"So, what was your first impression of the band?"

"I mean, I was kind of star struck even if I didn't listen to the genre of music they produced. I was kind of intimidated when I stood before Haleema, Brandon, and George."

"Why did you feel intimidated?" Saffi asked. Writing down her observations of his emotions she could see so when she sat down to draft the article on him that she captured everything.

"Well," scratching his cheek, looking off to the side, "they were the professionals, I was just the guy off the street hoping, just hoping, that something would go right in my life for once," Magnus said, shrugging his shoulders. He wasn't going to mention that when Haleema was sitting there so elegantly in that director's chair. Her ebony hair streaked with bright chestnut highlights draped down her chest stopping at the tops of her breasts, which sat beneath a dark teal sleeveless halter top. Her Latino-African American heritage gave her the exotic look that he hadn't encountered, nor did he think he ever would. Her dark caramel skin glistened in the studio lights as those warm, deep dark brown eyes gazed at him as he stood before them. The way she sang had him thinking her voice would be on the high end, yet as she spoke to him it was soft, warm, enveloping him like a warm sensual blanket. Remembering how the denim of her blue jeans tightened around her leg as she lowered it to the floor as she rose. The way the scent of her perfume clung and drifted on the air as her eyes never left him. Nope. She didn't need to know about his depraved, lustful thoughts about Haleema.

"I have to say, I thought I (we), would never hear a sound like Bobby's again," Haleema said, as she stood before him.

"Well... I figured you would appreciate it and that the fans would too." Magnus couldn't believe how nervous he was acting even if he didn't show it. He tried to keep his eyes from noticing how lush, how soft, how inviting her lips were. How her dark brown eyes seemed to entice him into their warm depths. He had thought after what Iona had done to him that he wouldn't find someone that made him feel like he was at that time. However, the moment Haleema smiled he felt his heart racing, his body heating as she stood so close to him. While Magnus wasn't about to start anything, it was way too soon for that, he was just pleased that once this nightmare with Iona was finally over that he could find someone far more trustworthy than what his wife turned out to be.

"And we appreciate that." Seeing the other two nodding behind her. "While Bobby was a troubled soul, he was still a good man." Magnus could see the tears forming in her eyes, noticing how George, as he would come to later know him, reached over and brushed away a tear from Brandon's right cheek. Instantly, Magnus knew there was something between them. No one does that if there wasn't some kind of romantic connection between them. He for one hoped it lasted for them longer than his own did. "Now we've heard you play our sound; I want to hear yours."

"I can do that," Magnus nodded.

"Good. Whenever you're ready, the floor is yours." Haleema said, before backing away, watching how Magnus set his guitar case lightly down on the stand. Listening to the snapping sound of the clasps coming undone. The way his fingers lightly danced along the neck of his instrument. How he lightly lifted his Gibson from the velvet lining. To how he stood before the amp turning knobs like he had belonged there. The sound of the amp buzzing before becoming silent as Magnus inserted the cord into the jack.

Magnus breathed out slowly as he strummed the strings after having done a light tuning due to the long trip. Starting off with Lonnie Mack's 'I found a love' blues song, then going into Eric Clapton's 'Tears in Heaven', Charlie Musselwhite's 'Crazy for my Baby', and 'Big Fine Hunk Of Woman' by Rufus Thomas.

"That all?" Haleema asked, arching an eyebrow. She surely thought he would have prepared more than four songs to play when Magnus lifted the strap from his shoulders.

"No," Magnus said, shaking his head as he set his guitar in its case. "Mind if I use this?" he asked, pointing at the acoustic that sat in its stand. "The other songs wouldn't sound right on an electric," Magnus stated clarifying his intentions.

"No, go ahead," Haleema said, gesturing to the instrument. Pleased that it wasn't over so soon, and that he could play both types. The past few auditions they had gone through struggled to play one due to their singular use of the electric. Most of the videos had been dumped when most were just show offs who only wanted to upstage the band, she could see that if they had been chosen. She knew he had this audition in the bag: the act of respecting Bobby made it so when he sent in his audition tape. Her eyes grew wide as she heard 'Dark Gipsy' playing in the room. Her father loved that song among other Spanish guitar songs. She had to fight herself from reaching for some maracas and dancing as Magnus transitioned into Flamenco then Malaguena. How her hips wiggled in the seat as she watched how his hands moved over the neck, body, and the strings of the guitar.

"Wow... where did you learn to play like that?" Brandon asked, his pitch black dark hair was spiked and held high due to his hair gel. The metal of his wallet chain clinked against the wood as he shifted in his seat.

"Watching my grandfather play, the rest I picked up on my own," Magnus stated...

"Hmm... what?!" Magnus asked, returning to the present.

"I asked, how did you get along with the members of the band once you were signed on?" Saffi asked, repeating her question.

"Oh, George and Brandon helped me out a lot, namely letting me crash at their place until I could find my own. Showing me around the city, very supportive when they learned of my troubles with Iona. They didn't take to the fact that she was stepping out on me. Brandon telling me how his last boyfriend before he and George became a couple had been sleeping around without protection while they were on the road. Straight or gay no one likes a cheater. Then they tried to get me to go clubbing with them once I had packed up my stuff and moved out to LA, yet I wasn't in the mood for that. Iona's betrayal was still raw, ya know?" Magnus said, brushing his hand along his leg.

"I know the feeling," Saffi nodded in support. "So did you tell anyone that you were leaving Mississippi?"

"Other than my grandmother and my lawyer, no. Personally I didn't see the point, they already made their allegiance known, I saw no need to tell my birth givers where I was heading. So I packed up my stuff and slipped away in the dead of night. Then Haleema worked me to the bone," Magnus chuckled lightly. "For twelve hours a day for nearly a week she drilled me on the songs that were going to be played during the twenty shows they had left." His cheeks rapidly heated as he remembered how his eyes would always find a way to that taut apple shaped ass of hers whether they were in practice or on the stage. "Then the big day came, God, I was nervous as hell. It was their soft and caring words that stilled my nerves as the roar of the crowd could be heard through the walls of the stadium we were at."

"The Kansas City show?" Saffi asked, to which Magnus nodded. "What were your thoughts on it?"

"One: Haleema was amazing, she commanded that stage. The fans seemed to know that too," Magnus said, quickly adding to himself. "And god damn gorgeous in doing it."

"Two: I could see how some people let it all go to their heads and waste everything they had earned. So when I got my cut of my check for the twenty shows... I had been looking for places to live when we were on the road, when I wasn't in LA recording. I so wasn't about to pay California taxes or dealing with the smog there. Plus, I wasn't going back to my hometown, something my grandmother wasn't happy about, but she understood. I stumbled onto this place and bought it out right since it was in foreclosure. I didn't want to have mortgage payments and paying rent for an apartment in LA. Plus, no paparazzi out here. And that brings us to where we are," Magnus said, finishing detailing the events that led up to that very moment. There was more but Saffi or the world didn't need to know that. Watching Saffi switching off the recorder, before flipping her notepad closed.

"Magnus... Can I call you Magnus?" Saffi asked, her fingers fidgeting with her empty beer bottle.

"Sure."

"Would you mind if I took a few pictures of you?" Saffi asked, knowing if she could get a very good one then it would probably make the cover of next month's issue.

"No... I guess I'd be okay with that," Magnus said, arching an eyebrow.

"Excellent!" Saffi said, her tone chipper, as she shot him a wide smile. "Mind if we go inside and I'll scope out the best place to set this up?" Saffi bit the inside of her cheek to keep her excitement in check as Magnus shrugged his shoulders as he rose.

"You want to do it here?" Magnus asked, a little confused as they stood in his bedroom after wandering his house.

"Mmmhmm," Saffi nodded. "This has the best natural lighting," gesturing to the large windows, "and with the light off in your bathroom it will give me the best backdrop so this," her hands slowly moving up and down his body, "will be shown in the best light," she said, she couldn't wait to get him undressed and between her legs. Ever since they had sat down out on his patio she has been so wet. She wanted to make him forget about his wife seeing how his divorce hasn't gone through yet. She had learned they were dragging it out in hopes that Magnus would see reason. Obviously, they are blind, even she can see reconciliation was out of the question between Magnus and Iona. All they had to do was look in his eyes. "Plus, this way getting you onto your bed and fucking you silly will be way easier," Saffi said to herself.

"O-okay," Magnus said, finding this very odd. He wasn't a fool. He knew she had been slyly flirting with him during the whole interview. The lack of a bra and panties were a dead giveaway. If she wanted to fuck him why didn't she just say so? Yet Magnus could never understand a woman's mind, his time with Iona taught him that.

"And could you wet your hair, and take off your shirt," Saffi directed as she checked her camera. She had been wondering if those muscles were as hard as they appeared to be.

"Alright," Magnus said, shaking his head slightly as he walked into the bathroom. Tossing his shirt into the hamper, knowing if this went as he thought it would he wouldn't be getting dressed for a while. Wetting his hair like Saffi had asked him to, standing in the doorway, flipping off the lights. Pressing his forearms against the top molding of the doorframe as she directed him, making it appear as if he was leaning against it.

Saffi's mouth began to water as her eyes ran along his glistening wet hair, down his face, and his bare chest. "Look down like you're studying something on the floor," Saffi directed snapping off a couple of shots. "Now glance those beautiful, blue eyes at me," she ordered as she took to a knee. "Yes, yes, that's it! Perfect!" Feeling her nipples hardening as those eyes of his peered at her through the lens of her camera. "Now give me one of those sexy smirks..."

"Oh my..." Saffi moaned in her mind as a single droplet hung on a strand of his raven hair, the way the corner of his mouth was lifted in that coy smirk of his made her mound throb in anticipation. "What's that spot on your chest about?" Saffi asked, noticing the slight discoloration of his skin on his left pectoral muscle. While slyly glancing down at the growing bulge in his pants.