Author's Note: Hey guys! This is an experimental fanfiction that I will be doing... :) I really hope you enjoy it. It will have more spontaneous updates depending on how popular it gets or what I feel like. :)

Until then,
MortalShadowhunter

His head is bowed slightly when he fastens the tie at my neck closed. There is shame in his eyes and there is sorrow, but I pretend not to see it because I must be strong for him. His hands are light and hesitant on the clasp of my dress when he sets it into place, his hair falling over his face. When he finally does look up, I can see that his bottom lip is bitten and his eyes are dark with grief, his fingers lingering over the sash at my throat. Only then do I let my guard crumble.

"Whatever will I do, James?" I cry, trying not to muse the delicate makeup that adorns my eyes. "I can't do this. Not if it means losing you."

"I will not be lost, Theresa." Jem whispers, leaning forward and cupping my face, a ghost of his lips across my cheek. "You will merely not see me." When I bury my face in his neck, he presses his hands flat to my back. "I am sorry."

"Me too." I murmur before pulling away when the doors open. When he moves to curve my hand around his arm in an instinctive gesture, he walks me out into the hall, my legs shaking and my hands jittery. I finally allow myself to see with opened and clear eyes, my fingers digging into his shirtsleeve.

The first thing I notice is the crowd.

There are men of all ages, their eyes hungry and feasting upon us like a vulture might flock over a rotting carcass. And then I see the women and their escorts. They are all young and pretty and anger wells up in me when I see my friends. Cecily, Sophie, Bridget, even Jessamine; they all have their hand looped around their escort just as I have mine looped around Jem's. But to us, they are all more than just escorts.

We are all led to a room where we stand in a pretty row, my heart dropping at the sight of all the men and teenage boys.

I feel exposed in my simple cut, short dress; eyes are wandering, nasty things. They are snaking up my dress and down the neckline in scrutiny as if to measure my worth. Families from the Aristocratic Class are sitting in the rows and rows of luxurious chairs that line the enormous room; they are hoping that their son gets the prettiest girl. That prettiest girl, I know, is Jessamine. She is a doll; blond curls, tiny waist, and more experience than the rest of us. Though I consider her my peer, she sickens me. Nausea rises in my chest and I wobble, but Jem holds me up and is there to help me keep my balance.

He has always been there.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his breath rustling my hair.

"No."

"Do you need something?"

"To be away." I say simply, though I know he cannot grant that wish. Instead, he clasps his other hand over mine, but he gets a murderous stare from our Owner. Our Owner, more commonly known as M, is the one who purchased us, dressed us, taught us, and raised us. However, he is also the one who whipped us when we rebelled and hit when we were affectionate to our escorts. He also sickens me.

Now he is dressed in a suit, stepping up to the podium as the last of the girls are lined up beside us. "Today is the day of the First Ceremony." He announces, his voice silencing the rest of the room. "Our society, as strong as steel and enduring as a stream, is built on this one day where each young suitor is placed with their One that they will be with for as long as they both shall live. Shall we begin?"

An erupt of eager voices erupted from the crowd, each craning to get a look at the rows of girls. Jem glances over at me. "You look awfully pale."

"I am worried." I say, my fingertips brushing against his dark suit. "It is the way of the Commoner Class. It has been that way for as longs as I can remember."

"It doesn't have to be." Jem opens his mouth to say something more but he stills when the Owner starts talking again.

"Cecily Herondale, Gabriel Lightwood." They join each other in the middle before bowing to the audience of families, excited cheers coming from the Lightwoods. Sophie is next; she is put with his brother. I know that she is discouraged when the Lightwood family is silent, but she tries not to show it. Next is Bridget. She's not the prettiest, but she's deadly smart and amazing around the house. When she is put with Cyril Tanner, I know she will be happy. "Jessamine Lovelace," M says finally, the chatter of the Aristocratic Class growing to a soft buzz. "Nathanial Gray."

I freeze.

My brother gets Jessamine Lovelace? They both look overjoyed as they embrace in the middle, bowing at the families before joining the other placed couples. "You are next." Jem tells me. My heart is filled with hate.

"Theresa Gray." The Owner pauses, mirth dancing in his eyes. "William Herondale."

I can feel myself breaking. When I look over at William, his eyes are cold and filled with lust and deadly poison. Herondales are the last suitors any woman would want to be paired with. His sister, Cecily, is pleasant enough but awful rumors lace the towns about her brother.

The warmth of Jem's arm leaves my hand as I step forward, my heart thumping brokenly as I count my steps.

William looks malicious. He is known for his brutality. His face is too close to mine when he introduces himself.

"William Herondale." He says softly, his eyes boring into my soul.

"Theresa Gray." I answer, my voice blank. He offers me a hint of a smirk, taking my hand roughly and forcing myself into a bow. I do so mechanically and I follow him. When I look over at Jem, my mind processes nothing. I feel nothing. I understand nothing.

How can I learn to love William when I know it will be torturous to even endure him?