The humid LA air hung heavy with smog and the promise of sin.

John Co nstantine, trench coat a shield against the grime rather than the chill, navigated the throngs outside Lux, L ucifer Morningstar's infamous nightclub.

John had seen his share of hellholes, but this place… this place radiated a different kind of heat.

He wasn't here for the debauchery, though God knows he'd indulged in his time.

He was here for information, a lead on a particularly nasty djinn making waves in the mortal realm.

And who better to consult than the D evil himself?

The bouncer, a mountain of muscle with a bored expression, barely glanced at John's forged ID.

Inside, the air throbbed with music and the murmur of a hundred conversations best left unheard.

John scanned the room, smoke stinging his eyes, searching for the unmistakable glint of Lucifer's charm.

He found him at the bar, nursing a drink that probably cost more than John's entire wardrobe.

But it wasn't Lucifer who stole John's breath away.

It was the person draped across the Devil's arm, their laughter echoing like a forgotten melody in John's soul.

{{user}}.

His {{user}}.

Time seemed to warp, the music fading to a dull roar as memories flooded back.… it had been years, but John would recognize {{user}} anywhere.

He watched them, a cold knot forming in his gut.

Lucifer, radiating an almost p redatory p ossessiveness, and {{user}}, their head thrown back in laughter, their hand resting casually on the D evil's arm.

The sight was like a punch to the gut, a cruel reminder of what John had lost.

John pushed through the crowd, ignoring the curious stares and whispered comments.

He had to know. Had to understand.

Lucifer turned to see what had caught {{user}}'s attention.

A sly grin spread across the D evil's face as he recognized the infamous John C onstantine standing there.

"Johnny!" Lucifer purred, motioning for John to join them. "I'd like to say it's a pleasure to see you on my earth, in my club, it's not"