Author's note

Well, hello peoples! Ahaha so I'm totally new here, to publishing fanfiction :3 Honestly, I just got inspired one day and was like, damn I read so much Malec, why not write some! So here I am ;P The rating of this fic is T, but see, I'm not against lemons so if anyone wants me to put lemons in later, let me know in a review and well, I'll change the rating to M ;) Anyway I'm rambling. I don't have another chapter yet, but I should be able to write one pretty quick. Please let me know if you like it, any criticism is good, tell me what you like or hate, or if you think I should continue this fic :)

- Kira

Friday, 9:44 AM

Something wet and thick was dripping onto Alec's forehead, and sliding down one side of his head, into his hair. There was a pain in his side, and his head felt as if it were filled with cotton.

He groaned, and slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the overhead light, and frowning in confusion at the corner of a wooden object, that seemed to take up most of his vision. Then another wet drop of something landed on his forehead and ran down into his hair, and he sat up quickly in surprise, narrowly avoiding smacking his head on what he then realized was his easel, holding up a half finished canvas. He reached up to touch his forehead, and his fingers came away blue. That's when he noticed the jar of blue paint, tipped over and slowly emptying its contents onto the spot where his head had been. A paintbrush had been digging into his side, bruising his ribs.

Alec sighed tiredly. He must have blacked out. Again. Staying up painting all night because he couldn't stand to sleep, afraid of his own dreams, was beginning to wear him down.

One week earlier…

"How- how could you cheat on me Ben? I thought you loved me?" Alec's voice was broken, defeated. Tears swam at the edges of his eyes, but he simply felt empty. The pain he knew, would come later. All he felt now was a sort of detachment. The calm before the storm so to speak.

"Alec I'm sorry, I really am. But this relationship has no future and you know it. We're just too different! Alexa is an old friend, she was just in town for a couple of days so I invited her over. I didn't know you weren't here, I was going to introduce you guys. I didn't know she still had feelings for me, and I wasn't expecting anything to happen!"

"I didn't even know you were bi."

"See! This is exactly what I mean. We're just not compatible Alec. I'm sorry it had to end this way, but its over." Ben's face was calm, but his voice held all sorts of sharp edges and angry undercurrents. Alec couldn't understand why he had any right to be angry.

"Take your shit and get out. Now." Alec hissed. There was an emotion. Anger was better than emptiness, and much better than the crushing sadness that would be on its way. Alec grabbed onto the anger with both hands, and used it to tape up his heart, holding it together until Ben was gone.

"Goodbye Alec," Ben said, pausing at the door to look back, duffle bag in hand. Stunned, Alec considered how little time it took Ben to pack upand walk out of his life.

And then he was gone.

All at once, the anger disappeared. Alec crumpled to the floor of his now-empty apartment. The tears came hard and fast then, in great wracking sobs that shook his whole frame.

The blue paint was drying in his hair, and his throat felt scratchy and tasted like last nights dinner. He sighed again, and walked into the kitchen to put on coffee. Sun was streaming in the front window, it's sill lined with various plants, He glanced at his watch and-

"You need a watch Alec, otherwise you'll keep getting caught up in painting because you won't take the time to look at a clock. This way you'll stop being late all the time!" Ben had said, as they scanned the jewelry store shelves-

Alec shook off the memory, a headache already starting to build. It was around ten in the morning. Looks like he needed to get out of the house and find a distraction.

He abandoned his coffee and walked into the bathroom, washing his face while ignoring the bags under his baby blue eyes. After brushing his teeth and switching shirts to a black one that wasn't stained with acrylics and had the words Blink 182 in bold on the front, he grabbed his sketchbook and house keys, and slipped out the door.

Thursday 11:15 PM

Magnus winced as he stared into the mirror, the bruise on his cheekbone already spreading. The skin was split right below his left eye, and a tiny drop of blood was sliding down his face. Bad timing much?! He had a meeting with a prominent designer tomorrow. Woolsey had to choose tonight to come home raging drunk and displeased at some stupidly small thing. Ugh, Magnus sighed, he couldn't think like that. He was truly grateful to his uncle for taking him in when his father had thrown him out after his mom died. Magnus would have been on the streets otherwise.

He grabbed the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink and wiped away the blood with a piece of gauze, wincing as it touched the cut. Then he dabbed polysporin on the tear in his skin, and an ice pack he had picked up from the kitchen went to the growing bruise. Putting away the first aid kit, Magnus retreated to his room, settling in to bed and knowing it would be a long day tomorrow.

Friday 8:52 AM

Magnus woke up early, which was rare, but he was so on edge from last night, that really it was unsurprising.

Crawling out of his bed on the top floor of the old house, he slipped down the stairs and into the bathroom to shower.

Showered, he put on tight purple skinny jeans, a black belt with a skull buckle, and a white tank top with the words I'm Fabulous in purple letters on the front. A black leather jacket with silver zippers and studs, plus a pair of black combat boots put the finish on the outfit, and Magnus sat in front of his vanity to deal with his face.

The bruise was an ugly purple color that didn't match his outfit at all, and spread from below his left eye out across his cheekbone and up to his nose. All in all it was about the size of half his palm, and slightly puffy. 'Thank god for concealer,' Magnus thought tiredly. He began with the edges of the bruise, and worked his way in until he had covered the healing cut at the center. Then he blended the concealer out so it was invisible against his caramel colored skin, and set to work on the rest of his makeup.

He put on purple eyeliner out into a winged eye, with a single line of black above the purple, then a hint of silver sparkles and a tiny bit of dark eyeshadow to add some mystery.

For his hair, Magnus gelled it into loose spikes and added a tiny bit of silvery glitter. With that he was complete, and grabbed his design book and regular messenger bag, went quietly down the stairs and out the door. He would find coffee,and then hopefully score himself a part time job as assistant to the designer for a major fashion magazine.

Friday 10:16 AM

Alec settled into a table at The Morning Shot, his favorite cafe, and ordered a double shot espresso, glancing out the window to watch the cars drive by after the waitress walked away. She was new here, he noted, and normally he would have introduced himself, but his tired and aching mind didn't even think to think about it.

He tried to focus on the people in the street, and not the memories swimming in this place, but only half succeeded. 'Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea,' He thought. He forced his mind away from memories and continued to watch the street outside. At this time in the morning, New York's rush hour had died down, the whole city wasn't one gigantic traffic jam, but people still rushed about, and taxi drivers still blared their horns at all the other cars.

The waitress brought him his coffee, and he turned away from the window to drink it and study the occupants of the cafe.

A man in a dark blue suit sat in a booth, typing away on his laptop and drinking a steaming cup of something. At another booth sat two teenage girls, chatting busily and texting. A woman sat alone at a single person table, reading an Edgar Allen Poe novel. Alec smiled slightly. It was rare that you saw people reading such a classic. There were a few people sitting up at the bar nursing cups of coffee, obviously unhappy with being awake. Considering it was just after ten, this surprised Alec. But then, he was usually a morning person so he couldn't understand, he reasoned.

Before he could slip back into his dark and morbid thoughts, the door to the cafe opened, and the most beautiful man Alec had ever seen walked in. No, not walked. His gait was smooth and catlike, his build lean and strong. He sauntered. His hips swayed, clad in too tight (in Alec's opinion, but damn they looked good on the beautiful man) black jeans. His hair was up in unruly spikes, and a shade of black that was indescribable. But what really caught Alec was his eyes. His eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner, were a shade of greeny-gold so alluring that Alec was absolutely entranced. Then those eyes met Alec's and he was suddenly conscious of A. His haggard and messy appearance, and B. The fact that he was outright staring. He immediately looked down at the table, blushing red all the way up to his ears. But the unknown man's eyes floated in his mind, beautiful and haunting. So Alec picked up his sketchbook, set one of the pencils from his pocket to the page, and began to draw the man.

Friday 10:20 AM

Magnus walked in the door of The Morning Shot, a cafe that a friend had recommended, breathing in the scent of coffee beans and hazelnut flavoring. Immediately he felt eyes on him, but that was unsurprising. Magnus tended to garner quite a bit of attention. The surprising thing was the source of the eyes. A man of about his age, around twenty-three or four, Magnus guessed, was gazing at him intensely. His eyes held admiration, a bit of surprise, and quite a bit of pain it seemed. And what eyes they were! The most vivid, deep ocean blue he had ever seen stared back at him, then the man seemed to realize he was staring and looked down quickly, the most adorable blush staining his pale cheeks.

Magnus allowed a small smile to grace his lips, flattered by the attention from such an unlikely source. As he settled into a chair at the bar, he continued to study his admirer. Unlikely, but HOT. Even though this unknown man looked tired, and a bit like he'd been having a week from hell, he was still absolute eye candy. He wore a faded black t-shirt and boringly baggy pants, but the muscles of his arms were prominent and well developed. He had long, agile-looking fingers, artists hands, Magnus noted. Full lips and high cheekbones, and those eyes! Eyes to make the sky jealous. His hair was black and wild, sticking up in little tufts and curls in such a way that he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. A single streak of blue ran from his temple to the back of his head, and it looked more like paint than dye, unintentional and forgotten about.

Finally, after absorbing every detail of the man, he turned away and ordered his coffee, winking at the waitress when she served him, She blushed.

He felt the blue eyed man studying him again, and turned slightly so he could watch him out of the corner of his eye. Blue eyes was, it seemed, sketching. He glanced up at Magnus intermittently, and then returned his gaze to a tattered brown spiral bound sketchbook, his pencil racing back and forth with practiced skill. It seemed that Magnus must have inspired him.

Sighing, Magnus finally looked away, his mind drifting from the sketching man. His face ached slightly where the bruise was, and his mind was heavy with apprehension. His appointment with this designer was essential. He was returning to university next week when class started, and he desperately needed a job. His uncle housed and fed him, and he had a scholarship for his first year, but going into his second year, he would have to go into debt, hence the need for a job. Not only that, but a position under such a prominent designer would do wonders for his career in fashion when he finished post-graduate education. So a lot was resting on this interview.

Friday 1:15 PM

Alec stared at the sketchbook resting on his easel, the man from the coffee shop staring back. Rarely did Alec do random sketches of people, but it had happened before. They just never turned up this good. The sketch was of him in profile, catching the shape of his face. He filled up a whole page, body spread languidly across the coffee shop stool, cup of coffee in hand. A smirk lifted what you could see of his lips, and he looked natural and at ease. He looked so lifelike Alec half expected him to turn and look him in the eye. Now, the question was, should Alec paint him? Or leave him as is?

He sighed and pulled the piece of paper out of his sketchbook, walking into his room and pinning it on his wall above his desk, amongst all the other random sketches he liked but didn't know what to do with. He had a simple room, with a king sized bed, a closet, a bedside table, a window looking out to the street (alec's apartment was on the fourth floor) and a desk. The walls were hung with Alec's favorite art by himself and some of his artist friends. And of course, the sketches plastered all over the wall above his desk.

Across the short hallway from the bedroom was a small bathroom, and the hallway ended in a spare bedroom that had been converted into a studio, the bed pushed to the side to make room for three easels, boxes of paints and canvases, and half finished paintings leaning against the walls. Two windows provided lots of natural light, as well as overhead lighting for when Alec was still painting at one in the morning.

At the opposite end of the hallway was an opening going into the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, and across the hall from that, was the door.

The living room had two old and comfortable couches and a lazyboy, a TV, and a glass-topped coffee table with papers and a laptop spread across it. Two large windows at the front of the living room poured in light. The connecting kitchen was simple and usable, its most notable feature being the houseplants.

A simple apartment, it worked well for Alec, but it was obviously an apartment for two. Ben's absence was felt acutely, no matter how much of an asshole he was.

At that moment, Alec's phone buzzed with a text. He pulled it from his back pocket and saw it was from one of his artist friends, Clary.

Feisty Redhead: Hey Alec!

Me: Hi Clary

Feisty Redhead: So we still on for coffee tomorrow? Jace and I would love to see u

Me: Oh right, 4got about that. Ya I guess so

Feisty Redhead: ok, see u at Starbucks at 10?

Me: I'll be there :)

Alec had been friends with Clary since he met her in Art two years ago, at the university that he would be returning to again in a week. He had introduced her to his adopted brother, and well, it hadn't exactly been love at first sight. More like fight at first sight. But they grew on each other, and now lived together full time. Sometimes it surprised Alec how hard Jace had fallen for her. He was usually such a player, and now he had been with her for almost two years. But he loved them both, and was genuinely pleased that they were happy together.

Friday 12:30 PM

Magnus was ecstatic. The lunch date with the designer had gone exceedingly well, and he had been very pleased with Magnus's work. His name was Raphael Santiago, of Santiago and co, and he was absolutely brilliant. Magnus had been sufficiently impressed with him, and he felt, Santiago had felt the same about him. They had talked extensively on fashion, and the requirements of the job Magnus was applying for, and by the end of lunch, Magnus had a position as assistant to the man sitting before him. Raphael promised to call him with the details of scheduling and such, and they parted with smiles.

Now, Magnus was walking in the door of his house, praying that his uncle was out.

"Magnus, where were you?" Woolsey pounced as soon as he was in the door, voice sharp.

No such luck, Magnus thought. "I was at my job interview, uncle. Remember, the one with the designer?"

"Oh right. Well, did you get the job?" He growled.

"I did."

"Don't you dare use it as an excuse to shirk chores Magnus" His uncle glared at him, then turned away and back to the TV.

In his room, Magnus relaxed. His uncle hadn't said anything about last night which was good. And really, his bruise was nothing compared to the beating he got the first time Woolsey found Magnus with a guy in his bed. Woolsey had waited till the guy ran out, terrified of the huge man yelling at him, to fall on Magnus. "I will not tolerate such disgusting behavior under my roof you faggot!" He had screamed at Magnus, slapping him and punching him hard enough to send him to the floor. A kick to the ribs, and Woolsey had left, leaving Magnus crumpled on the floor, winded, tears beginning to stream down his face as he struggled to breath.

Coming out of his thoughts, Magnus flopped onto his bed and pulled his laptop to him from his bedside table. He would worry about life later, right now, all he wanted to do was binge-watch some anime to celebrate his new job.

Well that was fun. Poor Magnus my bby :'( and brokenhearted Alec! Goodness me so much angst lol. This chapter was mostly to set the stage, so review and let me know what you think! :D And fun things may happen next chapter, like awkward Alec and some spilled paint XD

- Kira