2 comments/ 1551 views/ 22 favorites An Unforgettable Melody Ch. 00 By: auguy86 Greetings, readers! Thanks for reading my first submission. Of note, this story is written in the same universe of servant genies made famous here by such writers as Joe Brolly and 800IbGorrila. If you find this addition to the "Brollyverse" unnecessary or uncreative, you may stop reading now. Also, this intro chapter does not contain any actual sex. If you want to cut straight to the chase, skip ahead to chapter 01. If, however, you actually want to know what the hell is going on, this chapter is for you. I have tried to bring one unique aspect to these stories. As music is such a huge part of my life, as well as our hero's life, I will post song titles at the start of each chapter for any musical selections occurring in each submission. I would encourage you to listen to these pieces as the mood strikes you. They are by no means mandatory in any way to enjoying the story, but I do feel that listening to them enhances the experience. Please enjoy. Chapter 00 song titles The Trumpet Shall Sound (Handel) ***** An Unforgettable Melody: Ch. 00 Nailed it! As he walked out of Atlanta Symphony Hall, trumpet case slung over his shoulder, Mike Braxton couldn't help but walk with an air of confidence. He currently held the assistant principle trumpet position in the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, and had just finished his first audition to succeed the principle trumpet player after his retirement at the end of the month. While he always had confidence in his abilities, today seemed totally different, almost as though he was possessed while on stage. "Well, well," Mike heard a voice call out. "Someone seems very pleased with himself." He turned to find Darcy White, the principle bassoonist for the ASO, sitting on a bench outside symphony hall. "Who? Me?" Mike responded with his trademark sarcasm. Darcy laughed, shooting back, "Matter of fact, I haven't seen that kind of swagger from you since that final jazz band concert senior year." Mike remembered that concert like it was yesterday. "Well how could I not enjoy that? Closing out my final year at Clarke Mountain High by soloing Chuck Mangione's Feels So Good? That's livin' the dream for any trumpet player worth his salt." Sitting next to Darcy on the bench, he continued, "I presume you're stalking me to find out how the audition went?" She narrowed her eyes. "That was my original intent, but actions speak louder than words. Besides, even with you being the egotistical trumpet player I know you are, you never seem this confident without good reason. Think today was enough to get you into the final round next Friday?" "I really hope so," Mike responded. "It's impossible to say for sure, since this portion was a blind audition, making me little more than a number to the committee. Still, I can honestly say that's the best audition I've ever had in my life, so if that doesn't get me a shot at the principle chair, I don't know what will." "Good enough for me. Oh, also wanted to make sure you knew, the High is having a sale of artwork today." She pointed across the courtyard towards the High Museum of Art. "It's only open to ASO musicians, so you never know. Even you might find something that catches your eye. Wanna come with?" As artistically inclined as Mike was, he never has been big on paintings. Still, he knew Darcy was into art of all kinds, and as easy as she has always been to hang with, he knew better than to turn down that request. "Sure, why not? I'm done with work early today with the audition, so I'll still be able to beat rush hour." The got up and started their walk across the courtyard toward the entrance to the museum. As he trailed a step behind her, Mike couldn't help but notice that Darcy looked really nice today. About 5'4" with short, sandy brown hair, she wore a pair of tan shorts, perfect for the spring weather of early May in Atlanta. The shorts went about halfway down her thigh, and were just barely tight enough to show the curve of her petite ass. Her faded blue t-shirt hugged her frame nicely, subtly drawing attention to her bust. Mike guessed she was about a B cup, though he was certainly no expert. Who said I never admire works of art? He thought to himself. Even with said admiration, Mike and Darcy's relationship had always been a purely platonic one, going all the way back to high school. She always had a boyfriend, but she and Mike still had a level of comfort with each other, being able to give advice and criticism effectively on all manner of topics, be it music, school, or even dating. Her ability to keep up with his dry, sarcastic wit didn't hurt either, as well as throw it right back at him. She had frequently mentioned, "If someone didn't know we were close friends, they'd think we hated each other!" "Now, you'd better not be staring at my butt." Darcy threw a look over her shoulder, flashing that mischievous grin she was famous around the orchestra for. She knew she had caught him red-handed. "Of course not, wouldn't think of it! It's not like I'm an average guy who enjoys appreciating the artwork of the female form, particularly one with such a perfectly rounded and tiny butt. You must have me confused with someone else..." Mike knew damn well that it was better to play into this situation than deny it with Darcy. Besides, this sort of banter came extremely easily with her. "Good. After all, you know I'm on the rebound, and that could be considered taking advantage of poor, little-ole' me!" Darcy responded, over doing her southern accent for the last four words. Mike laughed. "First of all, you're lucky I know you're kidding, and not leading me on, little missy," he said, pretending to scold her by raising his index finger. "Secondly, you've probably figured out that... well... I'm in the same situation." Mike's voice softened to a more serious tone. Darcy's frowned slightly. "I heard you and Amanda broke up. Wasn't she was your college sweetheart though? I thought you were gonna marry her?" If she only knew how squarely she had hit the nail on the head. In probably the worst day of Mike's twenty-six years, Amanda had ended their nearly four year long relationship via text message, followed by a complete refusal to answer his calls. An hour after he received her text, Mike got a call from the jeweler to inform him the engagement ring he purchased was ready for pickup, twisting the proverbial knife in all the right ways. Thankfully, in the six months between then and today's audition, Mike threw himself into his work and music, drastically improving his skills, while also gaining an enormous amount of trust and respect from the trumpet section in the process. The only difficulty he experienced in those six months was the inevitable return of contact from Amanda. She, of course, had realized the hastiness of her decision, and wanted him back. While Mike could easily have rubbed it in, or even refused to talk to her, he convinced himself to do the honorable, decent thing and tell her, face-to-face, how much she had hurt him, that he had no desire to get back together with her, but that he also wanted her to learn from her decision and move on with her love life. It took some doing, but he finally convinced her that pining over losing him would be extremely unhealthy not only for her, but also for the man she would eventually end up spending her life with. Yep, he had thought many times, sure would be fun to do the petty thing once in a while and stick her nose in it. That damn code of morality and trying to live a Godly life thing. "You're right, I was hers. And she apparently decided all of a sudden that she wasn't ready, and the only course of action was to end a relationship of almost four years. No biggie," Mike responded, his words dripping with sarcasm. "In all seriousness though, it's for the best. I know what I want from here on, and I won't be wasting time with someone who isn't on the same page as me." Darcy's grin returned. "So, no more Mr. College Playboy then?" "HA! Please. Need I remind you that I'm the one constantly getting flack from every guy I know for not 'playing the field' more in college?" Mike shot back. "Fair enough, fair enough..." Darcy conceded. "Pretty sure mine was for the best, too. Steven never was physically abusive, but his temper kept getting the best of him. Oh, and just because you noticed those things while we were still together does NOT give you permission to rub it in!" She interjected before Mike could claim the 'I told you so.' He threw is hands up, trying to profess innocence, but Mike just couldn't suppress that smug grin of having called it correctly. By now, they had made it inside the museum and were beginning to browse the selections on sale that day. Most of the works were by local artists looking for connections and exposure, not to mention some money to alleviate the starving half of being a starving artist. While Darcy stopped at a booth full of abstract paintings, Mike strolled around the exhibit hall leisurely. His eye soon noticed a stunningly beautiful woman working a table at the very end of the room. He tried his best not to blatantly stare as he approached her table. She was tall, easily six feet, with dark curly hair extending halfway down her back. Her skin was a gorgeous shade of mocha brown, with a pair of blue skinny jeans and a snug black tank top accentuated her delightfully curvy figure. As he approached, she greeted him warmly. "Good afternoon, sir." She spoke with a very slight accent that Mike couldn't quite place. Possibly from somewhere in the Middle East, though he couldn't be sure. "Hi, how goes it today? My name's Mike." He extended his hand, and she shook it gently. "A pleasure, Mike. I'm Selena. I trust you are interested in my wares that I brought today?" "Wares, eh?" Her wording confused him a bit. "Does that mean you're selling more than just artwork today?" "Come and see for yourself," she said with a wink. Browsing her table, Selena had lots of jewelry for sale, all of it hand made. As he looked, she explained that her family was originally from Iran, but came to America when she was ten years old. Far from the typical girly-girl, she developed a particular aptitude for shop class and metalworking in high school, leading her to start her jewelry business. In addition, almost all the pieces she had for sale were clearly inspired by her Middle Eastern roots. "See anything you like? Perhaps something for a special lady in your life?" Mike responded, "I'm afraid you're about six months too late for that sales pitch." She studied him rather intently for a few moments. "You were in love, weren't you?" Damn! She can see right through anything! "Uh..." was all Mike could say in response. She quickly backtracked, "I'm so sorry! Please forgive my bluntness. I have always been quite good at reading emotions, but I forget sometimes that there is an appropriate time and place for voicing such observations." "No, no, it's just fine. Matter of fact, you hit the nail on the head." Mike related the story of Amanda's break up text, followed by the poor timing of the engagement ring, and the work he had to do to convince her to move on when she tried to come back to him. Selena stood slack jawed for a few moments. "Wow... do you realize what control you had over her in that moment? She would have done anything you asked her to, all in the hopes of getting you back. Yet, you chose to act in the best interest of her long term future, rather than take advantage of her vulnerability." Mike hadn't really considered it from that perspective before, but she was correct. It would have been all too easy to exact revenge on Amanda. It frightened him that he, if only for a few brief moments, had considered starting down that path. Selena's voice turned soft, almost contemplative. "Mike, I have an heirloom that has been in my family for generations. When my mother gave it to me, she made it clear that I was only to give it to a person of, in her words, 'outstanding moral fiber.' Ideally, I'm sure she meant for this person to be the man who would be my husband, but for reasons I won't bore you with, that is not really a possibility for me anymore." She reached under the table to her backpack, and pulled out a small brown box, appearing to be just the right size for a necklace of some kind. Opening the box, she showed Mike a beautiful gold locket, extremely old, but very well preserved. "When I think of how tempting it would have been for you to mistreat that poor girl, the fact that you still acted in the manner you did tells me everything I need to know about the who you are deep down. If anyone could ever meet my mother's requirements, I have no doubt it's you." She handed the locket to Mike as he began to examine it. It was perfectly round, with raised inlays of either silver or white gold across the surface, almost resembling vines. In the very center was a pale blue stone, so smooth and polished that Mike could see his own reflection in it. Mesmerized by it's beauty, Mike suddenly snapped back to reality. "Selena, this is obviously an extremely precious item. I'm flattered, but I couldn't possibly accept something as valuable as this." Selena simply responded, "Are you quite sure that you aren't meant to possess it? Look again." Mike examined the locket again, only to now see a faint glow emanating from the blue center stone. "In all my life," Selena continued, "I have never witnessed this before. If that isn't a sign that my suspicions about you are correct, I don't know what is." With a smile, she slid the box the locket was contained in across the table to him. Once again entranced, Mike looked up and started to respond, "So you've seriously never seen..." Nothing. No sign of Selena anywhere. The table in front of him, once covered with beautiful handmade jewelry, was now bare, save for the small brown box. Glancing at the locket again, Mike wondered what kind of elaborate set up this was, and who needed to be congratulated for going to such great lengths to freak him completely out. Maybe he just imagined everything? No, that couldn't be. The locket in his hand was clearly real. Be-be-beep! Be-be-beep! Mike's phone suddenly went off, reminding him he'd better get on the road home to beat the Friday rush hour. He packed the locket and box in the outer pocket of his trumpet case and started for the parking garage across the courtyard, meeting up with Darcy along the way. "Well, you look like you had fun," Mike said. "Yep, my mom and aunt both love abstract art, so I'm all set for their birthdays!" Darcy was always giddy after artsy events like this. "Ready to head to the parking deck?" Mike and Darcy always made a point of walking to their cars together, even in the middle of the day. It was still downtown Atlanta, and always better to be on the safe side. "Sure thing. Oh, I forgot to ask, did you happen to see a girl selling jewelry at the far end of the gallery today?" Darcy thought for a second, before responding. "Nope, I definitely didn't see any jewelry for sale in there today. And if there was jewelry in there, I would definitely have found it!" "Ok, wasn't sure if I missed one of the tables or not." Mike was definitely confused now. He couldn't have imagined the entire encounter, could he? As they walked through the parking deck, Darcy turned to him with a smirk on her face. "Ok Braxton, million dollar question time. How many hot dates you got set for this weekend?" Mike rolled his eyes. She did this every Friday, even while he and Amanda were still together. "You really love seeing just how nosey you can possibly be, don't you?" "What can I say? It's a gift," Darcy responded with a giggle. "Well there will definitely be no contact of the female variety this weekend," Mike responded. "I should know tonight or tomorrow if I made the cut for the final audition in a week. If I did make it, I plan to be a music hermit all week. Plenty of time for human contact after the final round." "Fair enough, Lord knows I was a freakin' mess when I auditioned for the principle spot." Mike grinned. "If by 'freakin' mess' you mean so hyped up on coffee and Red Bull that the orchestra actually started a petition to the maestro to promote you to principle just to level you out, I agree!" Darcy hopped in her car, laughing and sticking her tongue out at Mike. "Good luck this weekend! Remember, practice hard, but don't hardly practice!" With that she exited the garage. Mike cranked up his car, set the radio to WSB traffic, and took off for home. The rest of Mike's day was pretty mundane. Arriving home at his apartment, he decided to reward himself with an afternoon of Call of Duty. He never pretended to be very good at the game, but it was a hell of a lot of fun, and a great de-stressing tool. Few things felt as fulfilling as having random preteen kids yell and curse at you for destroying them online. With dinnertime approaching, Mike bought a couple of cheese pizzas from Papa John's with a coupon, settling in for a quiet evening with his favorite superhero. Just as he had finished watching The Dark Knight Rises, Mike's phone rang. "Hello?" "Mike, Robert Spano here." It was the maestro of the ASO. "Yes sir, good to hear from you." "You as well. Mike, I'll get right to the point. I wanted to be the first to let you know that we've narrowed down the applicants for the principle trumpet spot to five, and I'm pleased to tell you that you are in." Silently but enthusiastically fist pumping and victory dancing, Mike did his best to respond professionally. "That's awesome news. This opportunity means the world to me. Thank you very much." "Well, you earned it. Rest up, and practice hard this week. The audition this Friday will be in front of a live panel consisting of the concertmaster, one guest panelist, and myself. We will let you know who that guest panelist will be once we confirm their availability, as well as your specific audition time. Also, be prepared for a short interview with some personnel situations you might encounter in the principle job. Now, any questions I can answer for you?" "No sir," Mike responded. "I'll be looking forward to it." "Excellent. Take care, Mike. Bye-bye." Click. Mike was so keyed up that he could hardly contain himself. However, he resisted the urge to text everyone he knew the news. He had to constantly remind himself of the Academy Awards. It's just a nomination. Knowing she would murder him if he didn't at least keep her up to date, he texted Darcy the good news, who responded with her usual mash up of emojis. After promising to hang with her on Saturday, whether in victory or in mourning, Mike finally felt all of his emotions crash in a wave of exhaustion. Mike stripped down to his boxer briefs and went to relax in bed. Coming out of his closet, he paused at his tall floor mirror. While he was not normally one to stare at his reflection, he strangely felt the urge to do so tonight. Mike couldn't help but laugh at what he saw. Blonde haired, blue eyed, white, Christian male. How original. Hell, his first college roommate, an awesomely nerdy Jewish kid named Mitch, had affectionately dubbed him "Hitler's poster boy." Mike took it in stride, though. Mitch had always said that he was glad Hitler took over Germany. If he hadn't, his grandparents would never have fled the country, falling in love during the voyage to America. Mitch's motto was simple: perspective. Though Mike was not tall, only 5'5", his strong, broad shoulders complimented his figure very nicely. His body, on the other hand, was... average. Not buff, nor overweight. Still, by far his best features were his eyes and hair. His eyes were a much brighter blue as a child, but even the lighter blue they settled on today was very noticeable. It was a near certainty that any girl he dated would eventually comment on how they loved his eyes. Couple that with his light blonde hair, neatly cut into a short Ivy League style and framed with a pair of wire rimmed glasses, and Mike felt pretty confident in how he could describe himself. Not bad... not bad at all. An Unforgettable Melody Ch. 00 As annoying as it was to admit she was right, Darcy definitely had a point about Mike's love life. He knew it was time to get back out there. Surely he could actually find a smart, sweet girl with no patience for drama or mind games. Shaking his head, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind. Focus Braxton, he thought. Audition of a lifetime in one week. Flipping the TV on to his favorite cable news network, Mike was about to crawl into bed when he glanced at his trumpet case in the corner. Instantly remembering the strange locket from earlier today, he went to dig it and the brown box it came in out of his case. He was about to examine the locket, when he noticed the corner of a small piece of paper sticking out of the box. Opening it up, he discovered a hand written note. Hello, Mike. I do not know if you have attempted to open the locket yet, but please know that it will only open if you are truly the kind of person I suspect you are. For a man who knows God, as I can tell you do, the solution to this puzzle should come very easily. I wish you luck and happiness in all of your life's endeavors. Sincerely, Selena. Holy crap, he thought. He hadn't imagined it. Somehow, that entire encounter today was real. Now fully invested in uncovering the meaning of Selena's note, Mike placed the box on his nightstand, switched off the TV so he could focus, and reached for the locket, sitting up comfortably in his bed. "Let's see if we can't figure out what you are, my little friend..." Mike said, in his best Obi-Wan Kenobi voice. As he held it in his hand, the blue stone in the center started glowing, just as it had that afternoon. And yet, even with the stone glowing brightly, Mike still could not open the locket. It was as if it was welded shut from the inside. Mike turned the locket over, inspecting the smooth, plain back piece. He began running his index finger over the surface and edges, slowly feeling for any sort of switch or clasp that might allow it to open. At this point, he didn't care if the locket contained anything or not. His gut told him that it would be worth it just to find the solution to this puzzle. As his finger moved around to the front side of the locket, Mike began to notice a faint outline of some sort on the back piece. After a few attempts to replicate it, he quickly discovered that placing his finger on the blue stone was the trigger to those outlines. Pressing down gently, he was slowly able to make out a series of letters appearing on the back of the locket. I Cor XV LII Curiouser and curiouser, Mike thought. He made a note of the letters in his phone, trying to think what they could mean. Reading Selena's note again, he took notice of her mention of knowing God. "That's it!" Mike reached into his nightstand for his King James Bible. Though he preferred his Common English Bible, there just was something that felt right about having this version by his bedside. Mike flipped through the pages until he found his target: 1 Corinthians, chapter 15, verse 52. Maybe I just need to read it out loud? Could it be that simple? Clearing his throat, Mike read, "in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed." Nothing. No movement or glowing from the locket. Mike tried reading the passage again, this time with his finger pressed on the stone, but still no results. He pondered endlessly. Why would the locket direct him to this passage if reading the passage itself does nothing? There had to be some additional significance. Glancing again at his trumpet case, Mike had one idea so farfetched that it just might work. The text of this verse was used in Handel's Messiah during an extended trumpet solo entitled The Trumpet Shall Sound. Additionally, Mike was very familiar with this piece, having just played it this past Easter at his local church. Picking up his trumpet, Mike placed a practice mute in the bell, muffling the sound to barely a whisper. No need to piss off the neighbors. After playing a few warm-up notes, Mike focused for a moment, remembering the opening to the song before beginning the extended fanfare that started the piece. As he approached the segment where the vocalist would have entered, he noticed the locket was glowing again, this time extending from the stone and into the vine like inlays. Startled, he stopped playing, causing the glow to instantly disappear. Smiling to himself, he knew he was close to the answer. As he began again from the beginning, the locket, sure enough, started glowing again. Losing himself in the music, and clearly hearing the vocalist in his head as he played, he had almost forgotten about the locket completely by the time he finished the final bars. Laying his trumpet back in the case, the locket was now shining brighter than ever before, almost as if it was fully charged with energy. Climbing back into bed, he again took the locket in his hand, and immediately felt it's warmth engulf his entire body. He placed his finger once more on the center stone, causing the glow to vanish. He then heard an audible click, signaling that he had finally solved the puzzle. His hands trembled as he began to pry open the locket. As he looked inside, there at first did not appear to be anything inside. Upon further inspection, however, he could see that the stone on the front was, in fact, a complete sphere, with the back half extending into the locket. Touching the backside of the stone, it suddenly released a puff of blue smoke directly into his face! He coughed and hacked as his vision became blurry, dropping the locket onto the floor. Trying to keep his wits about him, he reached to shut the locket before anything else happened, but to no avail. The last thing he remembered before passing out was the cloud of smoke appearing to form into something solid... An Unforgettable Melody Ch. 01 Hello, again. Thank you very much for taking the time to read my submissions. If you are thoroughly confused as to what is going on, you might have missed the intro in chapter 00, so feel free to go back and read that one for some context. No song titles for this chapter, so sit back, and enjoy. ***** An Unforgettable Melody: Ch. 01 Oh, God... what... the hell... happened? Mike slowly awoke in a haze, his head throbbing in pain. Forcing his eyes to blink open for a moment, he glanced at his bedside clock. 7:00 am? Dammit, that's way to early for a Saturday. Knowing he wouldn't be able to get any more sleep with his headache, Mike slowly sat up in bed. Gonna need some Tylenol... As his brain started to power up, he tried to recall what he had been doing yesterday that could have put him out like that. He knew he hadn't been drinking. Let's see, I watched a movie, got the call from the Maestro, and then... the locket! It was all coming back to him; the glowing stone, the song that opened it, that strange blue cloud... "Good morning, Master." Mike was suddenly scared fully awake by an unfamiliar voice coming from the corner of the room. Immediately thinking home invasion, he instinctively dove to the floor beside his bed and, opening the thumbprint gun safe beside his nightstand, retrieved his Glock 19 handgun. Crouching on the floor by his bed, he spoke with authority. "Who are you?! How did you get into my home?!" "Please do not be afraid, master. My apologies for startling you." The voice sounded incredibly sweet, almost angelic. Not letting his guard down for a second, Mike slowly peeked around the foot of his bed. He could tell the voice was coming from a girl kneeling in the corner of the room. "Show me your hands. I need to see that you're not armed." He was certainly not military or police, but Mike's dad had taught him many times how to effectively protect himself in the event of a home invasion. Rule one was never to assume anything. "Of course." The girl slowly opened her hands, extending her arms out to her side as she did so. "I can assure you that you are in no danger." She certainly seemed harmless enough, appearing maybe twenty-five years old or so, but Mike still kept his weapon close at hand as he slowly stood up. "With all due respect, ma'am, I'll be the judge of that. Who are you? How did you get into my apartment?" He didn't see any broken windows in his bedroom, and could tell by looking out his bedroom door to the entryway that the front door was still securely locked. The girl smiled. "Do you not remember the events of last evening? You opened my vessel, bringing me into existence. For that, I am eternally grateful, master." "Vessel? You mean the locket? The last thing I remember was opening it, then getting blasted in the face with a cloud of blue smoke..." Nodding, the girl continued, "Very good master. That smoke was my essence. Before you released me, I had no physical form. My essence enveloped you as it did in order to determine the proper form for me to take." Mike held his hand up. "Woah, woah, slow down there. I'm totally lost now. Oh, and why do you keep calling me master?" The mystery girl flashed a huge smile, lighting up the room. "Because I am your servant genie. By releasing me, I am now bound to be your slave for eternity." Mike could see where this was going. Very cute. Stuart and the trombones must have cooked this up. The ASO low brass section was renowned for their elaborate pranks, particularly Stuart McKay, the principle tuba. Knowing them, this prank will keep going until I expose them myself. Mike decided to play along for the time being. Sensing no further danger, he laid his handgun on the bed, still within easy reach, and slipped on his glasses from the nightstand. "Ok, so you're a genie? And you say that you now belong to me?" "That is correct master." Now that he had relaxed a bit, he could see that this girl was absolutely stunning, perhaps the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She wore a tight, black t-shirt with a plunging V-neck and a pair of blue jean shorts, just long enough to be tasteful and not slutty, but just short enough to show off the pale skin of her gorgeous legs. Though she was still kneeling, he could tell that they were toned to perfection. He couldn't see for sure from this angle, but it appeared that her ass was quite round and curvy, especially compared to her slim waist. Based on her slightly exposed midriff, her stomach was quite flat, and led upwards beautifully to her perky, D cup breasts. He now studied her face, which was, in a word, angelic. Perfectly proportioned, and framed by a small pair of adorable dimples, she reminded him a bit of the actress Kate Bosworth. Her eyes were an enchanting shade of emerald green. Finally, he noticed her perfectly straight hair. Tucked behind her ears and cut to just above shoulder length, it was the most beautiful shade of red wine he had ever seen in his life. As he studied her, he suddenly realized how intently he had been staring. Breaking eye contact for a moment, she simply smiled right back at him; she didn't seem to mind one bit that he was drinking her in. Grinning right back at her, Mike decided to see for how long she would be able to keep up the charade. "Alright then, genie. Tell me about your powers. I assume you are able to grant wishes of some kind. What kinds of wishes can you grant? And how many do I receive?" She nodded. "Since I am your servant genie for life, you can receive an unlimited number of wishes from me, as long as they are within the realm of my nature. As a genie designed to be a sexual servant, my primary powers allow me to grant almost any wish that is in some way erotic in nature. Additionally, I am authorized with unlimited power to keep my master and myself safe from all harm, as well as healthy from any ailments. Finally, I also have extensive powers of anonymity and privacy, so as not to draw any undesired attention towards my master." Sexual servant? Stuart's pulled crazy pranks before, but he's never done anything as off the wall as this. I wonder who this girl is? An actress? Call girl perhaps? What's the endgame of this prank? Having had enough, and not wanting to put this poor girl through any shame or embarrassment, Mike decided to make a "wish" he knew she would be unable to grant. Wishing for a striptease, blowjob, or something else of that nature would likely be exactly what she expected him to say next. Mike, however, had a different idea. "Very well. I'd like to make a wish. I've had a throbbing headache since the moment I woke up. This is obviously an unhealthy ailment. Without moving from the spot you're in, I wish for you to instantly cure me of my headache." Mike was quite pleased with himself. He had phrased things very carefully by not giving her the easy out: walking to the bathroom and getting the Tylenol for him. Now, she would have no choice but to admit that the jig was up, ending the prank. However, he suddenly felt a slight tingle in the back of his mind. Flash. The girl's eyes shone bright gold for a split second. "It is done, master." Mike instantly felt his headache disappear. "WOAH!" Mike stumbled backward in shock, landing square on his ass. "You actually made my headache go away?! And what about your eyes?! That tingle in my head?! What is going on here?!" The girl was now close to tears. "Master, was this not what you wished for? The tingle you felt in your mind was my attempt to hear the thoughts behind your words, ensuring I granted your wish properly and gave you exactly what you wanted. If I have failed to deliver in your first wish, I am exceedingly sorry for disappointing you, and I gladly await any punishment you feel is appropriate for me." She then bowed, placing her nose squarely on the carpet in front of her. Mike slowed his breathing, working to comprehend everything that had just happened. Holy shit, she was telling the truth? I released a genie from that locket? Before he could ponder the full implications of the situation, his concern for this poor girl immediately grew. He heard her whimpering as she cried from her undignified position on the floor. Locking his handgun back in the safe, he slowly approached, kneeling in front of her. Gently placing his hand on her chin, he lifted her head until the two of them were face to face. Smiling, he said to her, "You don't need to cry, and you don't need to be afraid. I'm not disappointed in you. I'm just... surprised. I thought all of this was some big prank set up by a bunch of my friends." His face turned more serious as he looked directly into her eyes. "I'm sorry that I didn't believe you." A look of confusion spread across her face. "I... I don't understand. You are my master; i-it's never your place to apologize to me." Her voice began to crack as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Dear God... this poor girl has no concept of free will. She really does see herself as my slave. For the first time in a long time, Mike was truly terrified, on multiple levels. He was terrified for this poor girl, clearly a sentient person, but without free will. He was terrified of the powers she had described to him, and that she would likely use them in any way he directed her to, no matter who could be hurt in the process. Most of all, he was terrified for his soul. Mike was a religious man, having been raised in a Methodist church, as well as his late grandfather being a Southern Baptist minister. He knew that any and all decisions he made in his life would have to be answered for someday. While Mike didn't subscribe to the idea that all things are as black and white as a one-way ticket to either Heaven or Hell, there were certain situations in his mind that qualified as just that. Participating in the enslavement of an intelligent, sentient person was damn near the top of that list. Taking a deep breath, Mike moved to sit cross-legged on his double bed. Seeing that the girl was still kneeling in the corner, he asked, "Why are you still kneeling there?" She responded simply. "My master has not yet given me permission to move." Oh... duh. No free will. "Please, come sit here with me." Mike patted the bed. She happily stood and moved toward the bed. Mike could now see that she was rather short, maybe an inch or two shorter than him. In spite of this, however, he could tell his previous guess about her curviness were correct; she was wonderfully shaped. She sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed, face-to-face with Mike at the head. Gently taking her hands in his, Mike began to speak very seriously. "Genie, please understand that this situation is all very overwhelming for me. I'm trying to comprehend everything that's happened this morning. I have quite a few questions that need as straight and honest answers as you can give. Is that ok?" "Of course, master." Her face softened with a smile. They conversed for some time. The genie first confirmed for Mike that she was, in fact, created to be a subservient creature incapable of disobeying her master. Additionally, she explained that, as her master, she is considered his property to be dealt with as he wished. Anything about her that displeased him could be punished with isolation, beatings, or even her destruction. All were within Mike's rights. She also confirmed that her powers could be used for anything of an erotic or sexual nature, including actions considered illegal under modern law, without any consequences. Her powers could even be used to commit unspeakable acts of pain on innocents, all with the full support and encouragement from her, since she only desires what her master desires. Mike then explained his religious background, and his apprehension to participating in any sort of enslavement, knowing full well the likely consequences when his time finally came. Seeking to comfort him, she explained that her servitude to him was thrust upon him and that, since he had no choice in the matter, the sin of her enslavement was not his burden to bear. Hearing this brought Mike to one of the most important questions he had in his mind. "Genie, is it possible for me to free you, and, if so, how would that play out?" She smiled sadly. "Master, you are exceedingly kind to ask such a thing. You are allowed to wish for my freedom. However, in doing so, you would merely be freeing me from my servitude to you. I do not have the power to grant a wish from you, or any master, that I no longer be bound as a servant genie altogether. "If you were to wish for my freedom from you, I would return to my vessel, whereupon the next person to open it would become my new master. While I do not fully know the nature of my vessel, it is clear to me that, in solving the puzzle last night, you disabled some sort of magical security system that was preventing the locket from opening. As I no longer detect any magical energy from any part of my vessel, I can only hypothesize that the next person to obtain the locket would have no difficulty opening it by hand." Hearing her explanation, Mike now knew full well that there was no easy answer to his dilemma. On the one hand, he could take custody of this girl, treating as humanely as possible, but in doing so ran the risk of what would happen to him once his number was up. Conversely, he could wish her free, clearing himself from this entire situation. However, if someone without the "outstanding moral fiber" Mike apparently possessed then claimed her, he could be condemning her to a life pain, not to mention the countless people that could be hurt by such a person gaining control of her powers. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he allowed that to happen. After pondering for a few minutes, Mike finally believed he had formulated the best possible solution. Taking a deep breath, he made a wish. "Genie, I will never view you as a slave. I know that your very nature makes you completely obedient to me, but if you truly are bound to me for life, as you say you are, then the only capacity I want you to serve me in is as an equal partner. To that end, I wish for you to have as much free will as it is possible for you to have. I wish for you to be able to enjoy everything this world has to offer you, not because I allow you to experience it, but because you deserve to experience it. Is this a wish that you can grant?" She closed her eyes for a moment, before nodding. Tingle. Flash. "It's done, master." Unable to hold back any longer, tears began streaming down her face. "What's wrong? Are you ok?" She nodded. "Master, I am wonderful. Genie servants are never supposed to expect or even hope for any kindness or consideration from their masters. It goes against our purpose of servitude. That you would use your first wish to grant me free will, it is the greatest gift I could ever imagine." She lunged forward, gripping Mike in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered. Gently rubbing her back, Mike couldn't resist the call of his sarcastic wit returning to him. "It's not that big a deal. Technically, it was my second wish," he said with a smartass grin. At first, he wasn't sure if she understood the humor. However, with a slight snort, she burst out into a full on giggle fit. "That's true I suppose!" Her laugh was intoxicating to Mike, so pure and full of life. He knew immediately that he would never get tired of trying to make her laugh. Glancing at the clock, Mike was shocked at what time it was. "Wow! 11:15 already? No wonder I'm starving." He stood and motioned for the girl to follow him. "Would you like something to eat? You must be hungry, if you've been sitting there all night, waiting for me to wake up." Mike slipped on a pair of gym shorts and his orange Auburn University t-shirt. She smiled. "Sure. I don't require food to exist, but it certainly helps in keeping my energy up. Plus, it's an experience I'd love to have, having never eaten before." She gasped momentarily. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said something so forward..." Mike placed his finger over her lips, silencing her. "No apologies. That was a very good thing you said. That's the free will I wished for you to have beginning to shine through. Embrace it, don't fight it." She smiled. "I'll try. This is just such a big adjustment for me. It will take some time." "I understand," Mike replied, making his way into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he asked her, "is leftover pizza ok?" "Sure. I've never eaten before, but my powers do give me a basic concept of the modern world and the things in it. Pizza is baked cheese and tomato sauce on a bread-like crust, right?" "You got it." Mike placed four slices on a plate and stuck it in the microwave. As their food warmed up, he turned to the girl. "I've got to apologize. I just now realized that I haven't even asked your name until now. I assume your name isn't genie, is it? She giggled. "You can call me anything you wish, but no, genie is not my name. That would be like me calling you human." Mike immediately understood. "That makes sense. You aren't the Hulk after all." "Hulk?" Her eyes narrowed. Tingle. "Oh, right. PUNY HUMAN!!" She raised her arms above her head doing her best Hulk impersonation. As Mike laughed at the spot on impression, she continued, "as far as my name is concerned, I don't have one yet. The privilege of naming me is yours alone." "Wow, ok. Let me think..." Mike had never named anything before, except a goldfish while he was in kindergarten. He ran through a few names in his head. Let's see... Sarah? Nah, too boring. Hope? Nice name, but... she doesn't really look like a Hope. As he continued trying to think of the perfect name, the microwave signaled that the pizza was ready. As he pulled the food out and separated it onto two plates, he absentmindedly started whistling, as he often did when some tune was stuck in his head. He froze halfway through as he finally realized the perfect name. "Melody." "Pardon?" Sitting at the table, she couldn't completely hear him from the kitchen. With a big smile on his face, Mike brought the food and a couple of Cokes to the table. "Your name is Melody." She sat for a moment, basking in the moment. "I love it!" She leapt out of her chair, throwing her arms around Mike's neck and bouncing up and down in sheer joy. "I love it, love it, LOVE IT!" When she finally came down from her excitement, she gently took his face in her hands. "Thank you, master." "Oh, and one more thing. I'd much prefer you to call Mike, not master. Ya know, that whole 'equal partner' thing." "Of course mast- Mike." Mike smiled. "Now, you need to sit down and eat your first meal, before it gets cold. Unless you're one of those crazy people that LIKES cold pizza." Her eyes lit up. "Oh, right! I totally forgot!" As Melody took her first bite, the look on her face said it all. She was in heaven. "This. Is. AWESOME! Oh my God, this is great. Good thing I'm a Genie, or I'd probably eat so much of this that I'd blow up like a balloon!" "Well, if you like that, you'll love the Coke." She took the cold can in hand and took a large sip. "Oh, this is good too... oh wow! The bubbles! They tickle on the way down!" Mike laughed. "That's how you know they mixed it well." As she continued to dig into her food, Mike couldn't help but sit back and take in her unbridled joy at each new experience she was having. As he leisurely ate his lunch, Mike again couldn't help but admire her. The angelic face, gorgeous hair, and her glorious cleavage, just peeking through her V-neck shirt, he was entranced by all of it. An Unforgettable Melody Ch. 02 Hello again! A special thanks to everyone who has read the first two chapters I've submitted so far; I'm really glad to see people are enjoying this story and my take on this scenario. To answer a question several people have asked: Yes, I do have a full story mapped out, complete with a definite conclusion. With that said, on to the next chapter. Ch. 02 Song Titles Buy Me a Boat (Chris Janson) The Devil Went Down to Georgia (The Charlie Daniels Band) When I Fall in Love (Chris Botti) ***** An Unforgettable Melody: Ch. 02 Mike awoke on the sofa, Melody still wrapped in his arms. Stroking her deep red hair lightly, he recalled the events of the last twenty-four hours. The art sale, that mysterious locket, the puzzle opening it, all of it had led to this girl currently lying on his chest. She was apparently a genie, bound to be a sexual servant to whoever released her from her vessel. Mike, being uncomfortable with her subservient nature and the idea of owning her as a slave, wished for her to gain as much free will as possible, and for her to be an equal partner to him. Her gratitude for him making such a wish had led them both here, lying on the sofa with him half naked. Melody looked up at him, kissing him softly on the lips. "Hey there, sleepy. Did someone tire you out?" Mike stuck his tongue out at her. "You know damn well what tired me out." She giggled her trademark laugh. God, Mike loved to hear her laugh. "I hope that was ok, taking what I wanted like that," she said. "I'm still figuring out this whole free will thing." Mike kissed her forehead. "You were amazing. Knocked me out cold. How long was I out for, by the way?" "Not long, maybe twenty minutes," she said, sitting up. "We've still got the whole day ahead of us. Whatcha wanna do now?" Mike eyed her knowingly. "I see that look in your eye, Miss 'I'm up to no good.'" Melody tried her best to put on an innocent look on her face. "Honestly," Mike said, sitting up, "I've got lots of questions, mainly about your powers. You mentioned that tingling I feel in my head when I make a wish. Did you say you were reading my mind?" She shook her head. "No. Reading your mind without your permission is explicitly forbidden to all genies, from servants up to the most powerful King Jinn. It would be an invasion of your privacy, and a major ethical breach. The tingle is my attempts to hear the thoughts behind your wish, ensuring I interpret it properly and give you what you intended to ask for. However, if that bothers you, I will gladly refrain from doing so." "No, that's fine, as long as it only happens when I wish for something. I didn't realize that was something genies were capable of doing. That's why I was trying to phrase those first few wishes very carefully. The last thing I want is a poorly worded wish backfiring on me." Melody nodded. "That's understandable. Many of the legends you may have read about jinn and genies are rooted in actual events." "Like Aladdin and the genie of the lamp?" "Yes, although that specific account is merely legend. Jinn and genies such as myself are fulfilling our primary purpose for existence. There are sexual servants, household servants, and political advisors, just to name a few. Some genies, however, are bound to an object, such as a lamp or bottle, as punishment for failing to follow our code of conduct. Genies facing such situations would commonly twist their masters' words in an attempt to gain their freedom through a poorly conceived wish." Mike nodded in understanding. "Ok, so basically, it's only with my permission that you delve into my thoughts, and even then, you only draw information pertinent to the wish. Is that correct?" Melody smiled. "Exactly." "Alright then... oh, you mentioned both jinn and genies. What's the difference?" "That is merely a gender distinction. Males are jinn, while females are genies." "Are there still many in existence?" Melody closed her eyes for a moment in thought. "I cannot say for sure. It's certainly possible, but we genies are unable to detect each other's presence. This is another failsafe for the protection of our masters. In the past, some masters desired to gain power over multiple genies, seeking out other masters and pitting their genies against each other, necessitating this rule. If we were to encounter one, I wouldn't be able to know if it was another genie or not, though I would certainly detect a magical presence in the area, as would they." "Cool. Ok next question. While you were performing the, um, most awesome, mind blowing blowjob in the history of the world..." "Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet," Melody shot back. Mike laughed as he tried to stay on topic. "...There was a moment when I heard you speaking in my mind. Are you able to communicate telepathically?" On cue, he heard her voice in his head again. Yes, but only with you. Openmouthed, Mike could only reply, "Wow. That's cool." "Why don't you try it?" Mike cocked his eyebrow. "How?" She giggled. "It's easy, silly. Just think what you want to say, and direct it to me." Mike concentrated. Like this? Perfect! You're a quick study. Since you are my master, even with the free will you wished for me, I am never more than a thought away from you. Really? Even if we're nowhere near each other? Of course, Melody replied. We could be universes apart, and I would still be with you in a moment's notice. That's how strong my connection to you is. "Very nice. Although, I have to admit, I love hearing your voice in reality," Mike replied. "Your laugh has got to be one of the sweetest sounds I've ever heard." She giggled. "Yep, that's the one," Mike said. Melody kissed him on the cheek. "You really are the best. A better master than I could have ever dreamed of." She moved closer and laid her head on his shoulder. "What other questions did you have?" Mike thought for a moment. "Honestly, I want to learn more about Melody the person. Likes, dislikes, interests and such." "Well..." she said, seductively raising her eyebrow. "Besides sexual interests!" Mike laughed at himself for not anticipating her response. Melody chuckled. "Fine, fine. I haven't actually developed any likes or dislikes. I mean, I was only born about twelve hours ago, and I've only had free will for a little over an hour. If I'm going to find out about my interests, as I can tell you would want me to, why don't I start by finding out more about what makes Mike tick?" Nodding, he responded, "Fair enough. Let's see, I'm 26 years old, born and raised here in Atlanta. Went to school at Auburn University and Florida State University, became a professional musician after that. Currently play second trumpet for the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra." "Ooh, a musician! How delightfully sexy," Melody interjected, twirling her hair between her fingers. Mike laughed. Being a band nerd never did him any favors with the ladies in high school. Man, how times do change. "Outside of that," Mike continued, "I'm pretty introverted in my personal life. I try to avoid dealing with people unless necessary. Of course, the ones I actually choose to keep around as friends, you included, aren't people," he said with a wink. "But typically, a relaxing day for me is being a homebody, watching superhero movies, and playing video games." Melody's eyes perked up. "Video games you say? That sounds like fun." Mike looked hopefully at her. "You like video games?" She smiled. "Well I've never played them, obviously, but based on knowing the concept of what they are, I think they'd be something I'd enjoy quite a bit." That was all Mike needed. "How bout we fire one up? I'll show you the ropes." He stood up and moved over to his entertainment center. Checking through his game collection, he ran through several titles looking for the perfect first gaming experience for Melody. Call of Duty? Nah, too violent for her first game. NCAA Football maybe? Eh, probably not, the controls are pretty complex. Oh, perfect! He pulled out one of his favorite games ever, Mario Kart Wii. "How about a race?" "I'm game," Melody replied excitedly. Mike powered up the system and handed her a controller, giving her a basic rundown of the button configuration. She picked up quickly, and they were off on their first race. "Ok, I'll make sure I go easy on ya. I want you to have fun, after all." She shrugged. "Your funeral." Damn! Little trash talker! Mike won the first race; mainly due to Melody being so entranced by the game's graphics that she forgot it was actually a race. The three walls she ran into didn't help either. "Crap... this is harder than it looks," Melody sulked. Mike laughed. "Well it doesn't help when you constantly say, 'Ooh, what's that? Hey that's pretty! What's over there?!'" She stuck her her tongue out at him. "One more go! I got you this time!" Mike chuckled. "You got it. Just no crying." Their second race was much more evenly matched. Mike was still going very easy on her, but he noticed she was quickly getting very good. Just as he thought he was going to win, she snuck up behind him with the dreaded Blue Shell weapon, beating him at the last second. "YES!" Melody squealed with excitement. "Dammit!" Mike couldn't believe how fast she had caught on. If she hadn't just been born today, he'd have sworn she was hustling him. "Ok, from here on, no more going easy on you!" "Bring it," she whispered seductively. Mike eyed her warily. "I don't think I need to remind you of how unsportsmanlike it would be to use any kind of sex appeal to your advantage." "Fine..." she said rolling her eyes. Starting up their third race, Melody got off to a quick start, but a couple of well thrown banana peels from Mike put him back in the lead by the start of the third lap. Rounding the halfway point of the track, he got hit again with the Blue Shell, Melody zooming past him. It took every ounce of skill he had, but he was finally able to trip her up rounding the final curve and pass her at the last second for the win. Mike pumped his fist in victory. "That's what I'm talkin about!" Melody flexed her sore fingers. "Wow, you're good when you go all out." "So are you," Mike replied. "How'd you get so good at that?" "Not sure," she said, shaking her head. "After the first race, it just seemed to come so naturally to me." "Hmm..." Mike thought for a moment. "I wonder if has anything to do with that 'ideal woman' thing you mentioned? I've always been really impressed by, and attracted to, girls that aren't afraid to hold their own in video games." "That could be it," she mused. "Let's play another one! What else ya got?" Mike hesitated for a moment, before suggesting, "Well, Call of Duty is a lot of fun, and as fast as your reaction time was in Mario Kart, I think you'd do really well at it. Only thing is, it's a pretty violent, shoot-'em-up game. That ok with you?" With zero hesitation, she replied, "As long as it's all make believe, that's totally cool with me." Well alrighty then, he thought to himself. Mike switched over to his PS3 and grabbed a couple of controllers. After firing up the game, he went over the controls before they played a practice round. Mike hid his character somewhere on the map, and Melody had one minute to find and shoot him. Upon killing him for the first time, she jumped in shock, adrenaline pumping. "Wow, this is intense!" "Yep," Mike agreed. "The developers worked hard to try to make it as realistic as possible. Ok, I'm hiding. Let's go again." She found him much faster this time around, quickly getting a feel for using the radar and how the maps were structured. After two more rounds of hide and seek, he had Melody hole up in a central location to practice being attacked from various directions. At first, he easily bested her each time, but she eventually got better at her aiming and reaction time. By the end of the ten-minute round, Melody was surviving around two of every three encounters. Seeing her rapid improvement, Mike felt she was ready for the next level. "Well, this should be fun. You ready to go online?" Mike knew the online players would be in for a shock when they went up against her. "Sure," she said with a smile. "You wanna use those?" She pointed to his two gaming headsets charging in the TV stand. Mike got a wicked smile on his face. "Definitely, but lets keep the fact that you're a girl a secret until we start thrashing these losers." He activated the Bluetooth connections on the headsets as they entered the pre-match lobby. Muting his microphone momentarily, he turned to Melody. "Just remember, some of these guys have a huge bias against girls who play video games, particularly if they're better than the guys. If they start acting like assholes, be strong, and don't take any crap. You have full permission to put them in their place." She smirked. "Random dudes acting like jackasses who AREN'T my master? So not a problem." Atta girl. They spawned into their first match, taking place on a pretty large map. "Ok, stay out of the open on this one, there's lots of sniping spots," Mike cautioned. As the match progressed, Mike got taken out more than typical, but was always in good position to callout sniper locations to his teammates. Melody, using a stealthy setup with a silenced weapon, was able to constantly sneak around the map, taking out said snipers from behind. One particular player kept returning to the same sniping spot, allowing her to constantly ambush him with little effort. "SON OF A BITCH!!" He had now died five times in a row. "Who's the little pussy who keeps doin' that?" Hearing his complaining through the headset, it was all Mike could do not to laugh in his face. Anticipating that he would change his tactics, Melody was ready, planting a land mine in the spot she had been hiding in. Sure enough, he attempted charging the position, only to be blown to smithereens. Melody couldn't help but unleash her trademark laugh as he raged into the microphone, finally revealing that a girl was the one dominating the match. "No fucking way," he seethed. "The hell is a fucking GIRL doing here?!" Melody giggled. "Last I checked, she's kickin' ass and takin' names." "Shut up and suck my dick, bitch. That's where you belong." Mike had expected this kind of reaction, but that didn't make him any less enraged at this idiot's treatment. Just as he was about to unleash on him, Mike felt Melody's hand gently stroking his knee. Melody calmly replied into the headset, "Unfortunately for you, the only blowjob you'll be getting is the land mine you just stepped on. Oh, and this frag." She tossed a grenade into his hiding spot, killing him once again. "FUUUUUCK!!" As his rage grew, now even the other players were laughing at him. As much as some guys had a stigma against girl gamers, this group was apparently able to recognize true skill when they saw it. "Damn, girl," one of the others chimed in. "You good. And you sound hot. Looks like you in the ATL with me. Wanna hook up?" Mike rolled his eyes. Like this douchebag has a shot with you, he thought to Melody. He's so cute. He has no clue just how out of his league he is, she thought back. As the match ended, she replied in a sultry voice, "Sorry boys, but I have eyes for only one smoldering stud of a man. Say hi baby!" "That would be me," Mike said with a sense of pride. "Well that's enough fun for us today," Melody continued. "Now we've got some real work to do..." They signed off as catcalls and whistles echoed through their headsets. "That was fun!" "Sure was. I still can't believe that tear you went on," Mike replied. "You just annihilated them out there!" As they basked in their post game glow, there was a knock at Mike's door. Walking over to check the peephole, Mike could see it was his upstairs neighbor, Sandra. As he opened the door, Mike heard the now familiar greeting from bubbly single mom of two kids. "Miiiiike! How ya doin' son?" She immediately grabbed him in a hug before he could even think of protesting. Sandra seemed in a particularly good mood today. Dressed in a white tank top and loose sky blue workout shorts, she had her straight, black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Mike had never been attracted to black women, merely out of personal preference, but he could definitely appreciate that she was quite a good-looking woman. Slim and athletic, her light black skin and warm eyes easily helped her appear younger than the late thirties she actually was. Mike gently hugged her back. "I'm doin' pretty good, Sandra. What's got you so excited today?" "It's Tyler's birthday next Wednesday, so I'm throwing him a pool party today." Tyler was her twelve-year-old son, soon to be thirteen. "My brother's cooking burgers and dogs on the grill. You're welcome to stop by for some free food, Mr. Starving Musician," she said with a wink. "That sounds awesome, though I don't have a birthday gift or anything..." "Mike, hush," she interrupted. "After you've helped look out for him these last three years, helping with homework, being that positive male role model, just being there is gift enough. That boy really looks up to you, ya know." Mike knew it was true. Three years ago, he had given Tyler his first trumpet lessons. Even though he only stuck with it for two years, the two had connected very well. Mike had used those lessons to teach him not only about music, but important life lessons as well. Staying on schedule, avoiding procrastination, refusing to settle for anything less than his best effort. All of these things had helped keep the boy from straying away from a difficult path to follow. Ultimately, Tyler's greatest respect for Mike had come just over a year ago, during the winter storm of 2014. With the entire city iced in and the interstates clogged with abandoned vehicles, Mike had been walking from his apartment to the Baptist church across the street, checking in to see if there was any assistance they required to help Atlanta's stranded travelers. As he made his way back, he had seen Tyler with a group of three of his friends from the public school he attended at the time. Clearly a rough crowd, Mike overheard them talking about all of the cars stuck on the interstate as easy targets for "free samples," as they called them. As Mike approached the group, clearing his throat in the process, the group scattered, except for Tyler. Staring silently at Mike, Tyler knew he was likely in big trouble. Realizing that the kid was easily the youngest of the group, being subjected to peer pressure was a constant threat. Mike called Sandra, letting her know that he had met up with Tyler while out walking, and that Mike would make sure he got home safely before dark. Mike explained to Tyler that there were some things he needed to see. While talking with his friends, Tyler didn't have any reason not to go along with them. Mike planned to give him just that. As they walked along the main road leading to the interstate, Mike stopped at one car with a middle-aged man leaning against it. The man introduced himself as Carl. He worked construction around the city as an independent contractor, and explained he got paid in cash every Friday, with no option for direct deposit. It being Saturday, Mike could safely assume that he had his pay from yesterday in the car with him. Mike asked him what would happen if someone were to come along and steal that money from his car. As Carl eyed Tyler, he could tell what Mike was getting at, and confirmed that losing that money would result in him falling behind on his rent and having to make some tough choices between paying his heating bill or being guaranteed to be able to buy enough food for his family of six for the week. Mike thanked Carl for his time and insight, shaking his hand as they parted.