**The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare.**
I didn't really take the time to read through this carefully, so any mistakes are a my bad and just try not to acknowledge them too much. Sorry!
Chapter one: Benny's Diner.
Clary sighs; glancing around the nearly empty diner, the only other person in the small place is the chef who stands behind a worn stovetop belting out the lyrics to a Beatles song that plays loudly throughout the place. Clary can hear the irritating sound of the metal spatula making it's way over the dirty stovetop, over and over again. She lets her head fall to where her chin touches her chest; she let's go of her now cold coffee, rubbing her fingers against her temples. She can't understand why this man who she's known for the past fourteen plus years can't seem to shut up. She can practically hear her headache pounding in her ears, nothing's worst for a headache then a bad singer singing the Beatles. It's nothing new though. Clary knows for a fact that if she really wanted piece and quiet she could've went somewhere else, or simply stayed home, but she needed out of the house and this is the only place she actually feels safe nowadays.
Clary's lived in this city her whole life, totaling it up to sixteen long years of growing. Her presence isn't unknown around this old diner, she's been going here since before she could remember. Her mom used to take her here often when she didn't want to cook; which seemed to happen a lot, seeing that Clary's mother, Jocelyn, can't cook worth crap. Everything she cooks always seems to turn out burnt and bitter, always successfully making Clary gag. New York City is a large city with a lot of little restaurants that nobody would ever find or know of; which is why Clary finds Benny's Diner even more interesting and delicious then any other small joint she's ever visited. Benny, the old chef and proud owner, knows how to whip up a mean cheeseburger better then anyone else in this whole city and state combined.
A loud ring sounds throughout the place, echoing off the dirty wallpapered walls. Clary doesn't bother to look up; she knows that sound too well. Someone just walked in and it happens to never be anyone worth looking up for. Instead she focuses on her sketchbook, her pencil clad hand ghosting over the landscape on the paper. Clary wipes off the pencil marks that smear across her right hand on the napkin that lays crumpled next to her. She bites her lip looking down at the sketch she had just drawn. She studies it for a moment before realizing what exactly it is, her hand jerks to the left knocking the small white coffee cup off the table. The coffee cup shoots out, crashing to floor with a loud shatter.
Benny lets out a loud laugh from behind the counter. "Jeez, Cdubb! What is this? The third time this week?"
Clary rolls her eyes at the nickname 'Cdubb', Benny has been calling her that since she turned ten and decided to dress up like a male rapper for the day. "Sorry Benny . . . I, uh, got distracted." She mumbles while running her hand through her unruly curly red hair. The mess on the floor makes her sigh, she wants to rest not be cleaning up her spilt messes. The thought makes Clary feel like a child though, and it bugs her to no end. She doesn't want anyone cleaning up any messes for her; she can do it perfectly on her own.
"Obviously." Benny scoffs, but chuckles an instant later. "Try to be careful, I won't have any mugs by the end of the week if your clumsy ass keeps knocking them to the floor."
"My clumsy ass," Clary mocks, "Is your only interesting customer lately. If I were you, I'd be a tad nicer to her." She pauses for a moment before bursting out laughing. Clary knows for a fact that she's anything but interesting.
Clary rolls her head to the side, her eyes sweeping over the large windows next to the booth she was just sitting in a few moments ago. Its night right now in the city, but that doesn't mean anyone's actually sleeping. The twinkling lights of the street outside blinds her tired eyes making her quickly looks away. Clary closes her sketchbook as Benny approaches her booth with a rolling bucket of soapy water and a mop. She doesn't want anyone to see what's inside her sketchbook, especially that particular sketch. She leans against the table; it groans in protest but otherwise stays still. Benny chuckles as he reaches her, he ruffles her hair while shoving the yellow mop into her small hands.
"Clean," he orders in a fake British accent. She can barely recognize the actually accent, it sounds more like a mumbled 'spleen'. Benny turns to walk away, but before he does, he shoots her a wink and says. "Try not to be such a pain in the ass while you're at it."
"Oh please," Clary exaggerates the puh in the please, trying out her own British accent. It doesn't work too well. "I'm the cutest pain in the ass you'll ever get the chance of meeting Benny."
"You think that hun," Benny let's out roaring laugh, going back to scraping the greasy stovetop.
Clary stares down at the mess at her feet; the coffee has made a river heading towards the other side of restaurant. She groans, draining the mop of the soapy water before slapping it down on the old cheap tile. She pushes it back and forth a couple times until the coffee starts to smear, rather then get soaked into the mop. She plops the mop back into the water. Clary watches as a splash of coffee contaminated water splashes all over her green chucks. She lets out a frustrated growl, fighting the urge to stomp her feet like a child. Clary kicks the bucket as hard as she can, it rolls away from her. A chunk of curly red hair falls in her eyes; she swipes it away quickly, letting out a frustrated gust of breath.
"Clary," Benny barks, she swivels around, glaring at him.
"What?" she snaps, he gives her that 'you're funny' look.
"What do you think you're doing?" he questions, a blackened spatula shakes in his left hand.
"I don't know Benny," Clary mutters, unaware of the audience she has. She feels the familiar tears prick her eyes; everything's been so weird lately. Her mom hasn't been home much, she keeps claiming that she's been busy at the gallery but Clary knows for a fact that isn't the truth. Luke's been ignoring her like plague, and her home feels ghostly and cold all the damn time, Simon's been 'sick', and she feels like someone may be following her. She has no one to turn to in the most desperate time of her life.
"Oh Clary," Benny sighs, he rubs a hand over his five-o-clock shadow, before running the same hand through his unruly dirty blonde hair. He frowns and wrinkle lines appear in his forehead. Clary knows for a fact that Benny isn't old, even if he doesn't know it at times, he's just so busy trying to keep this run down diner in tack that's he's lost his dreams and desires along the line. Her mother is close to Benny, and Benny has been a family friend for years. Clary knows she's not the only one whose world has fallen apart around them, because Benny's has. She knows he's lonely and so does he, he just won't admit it.
Benny reaches her quickly; he extends his muscular arms and grips her shoulders. Looking into her eyes, he asks her. "What's up kid?"
"My mom," Clary starts quietly trying to quickly decide whether or not she wants to ask him this question or not. She does anyway. "What's going on with her?"
Benny's arms drop to his side; he frowns studying Clary with a skeptical look on his face. "Clary, your mother, she's-"
What happens next seems to happen in slow motion . . . Benny lunges towards Clary, a terrified look on his face. Clary stumbles back, her legs buckling underneath her. Her back hits the edge of the table behind her, she slides down, her head slamming into the edge a moment after her back. She crumbles to the cold hard floor too shocked to cry out.
The world around her spins, her head kills, and her ears ring.
The world goes black.
I honestly have no clue where I am going with this story. I'm kind of just winging it.
Feel free to leave feedback or alert this story if you'd like.
I don't have an updating schedule or whatever you'd like to call it. So whenever I feel like writing, a new chapter will be posted. The second chapter will be posted soon.
Thanks for reading! -Rosie xx