Okay, let me first tell you a couple things:

Um, the summary and the actual story are a bit different. I know, I'm Ah-mazing at summaries…. So yes, basically Clary's a dancer in senior year. And then she becomes Jace's model (If you don't understand, read to find out)….Plot twist.

The school is weird, but just deal with it.

I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT DANCING. Even though I love ballet. One of my best friends does it and I have always wished I had started to do it when I was a kid. But I don't dance and know literally NOTHING when it comes to the subject of dancing other than what she told me and all the performances of hers that I've watched. So if you notice a random mistake or she does a pirouette that's not humanely possible, know that I seriously don't know a thing when it comes to dancing. Also, if you are a dancer, do not quit unless you absolutely want to because I really wish I had done dancing and it's awesome if anyone who reads this story dances. Just know I really respect you and I am probably a bit jealous too.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters. Damn, if I had imagined someone as hot as Jace, I would feel so proud of myself.

Cast (Because I feel like it and I'm bored)

Jace: No actor tops Jace.

Clary: Um….Holland Roden or Odeya Rush. I really love Odeya Rush….She is so beautiful. Maybe Odeya Rush with red hair? Eh, this is hard….

Isabelle: Megan Fox...duh…

Simon: ? Someone amazing and adorable

Alec:...IDK. I really don't.

Magnus: The guy from the movie….What's his name? Eh, I'm in study hall right now and I'm too lazy to look it up. But yeah, the guy from the movie cuz he was really cool.

You know what? I don't have the energy to do this right now. On the the story.

Clary's POV

You know that feeling when you get up from bed on the first day of school and you feel so energized and know you're going to love senior year? Haha, neither do I.

God, senior year. My worst fear.

Not only does school suck, but it sucks and you don't care it sucks because you know you'll be out of there in a year anyway but you still have to survive that year of school sucking because if you break too many rules you can get held back. Like I said, it sucks.

So, here I was on the first day of school, standing on the steps of Pandemonium School for the Talented Youth, feeling so very small….

"OMG, BRIE! YOU LOOK AH-MAZING!"

I groaned. Annoying cliche cheerleaders who think they own the school. Which they probably do, but still.

See, our school was split into different groups. Our social ladder is taken very seriously. Because we are a school for the 'talented youth'. A lot of us are here because of our art, sports, or academic talent. Sure, there are a bunch who are here because their parents are rich and donate a bunch to our school every year.

The art kids(dancing, singing, drama, art), about 10% of the population in our wonderful school, are usually just ignored. This is the group I am in. Most of us, because we applied and had to test to get in, can do a lot. I for example, draw, paint, and dance(ballet strictly). The sports kids(Cheerleaders and football players) and the rich kids are really popular. They make up about 30% of our school. The smart kids (nerds) are bullied.

Then there is the majority which are just the other regular kids who come because it's the only school in the town and their parents threatened to sue if they weren't allowed to go. They are just the kids that worship the sports and rich kids.

Of course you can be in more than one group. I am on the track team making me a sports kid and an art kid. My best friend, Simon Lewis is part of the nerdy group so I hang out with them a lot, making me partially part of their group.

But remember, only the football players and cheerleaders are popular. Not all sports kids. All our other sports teams suck.

Ballet is my major thing. Because this is technically a school for the arts (Even if we are a very small population) all the kids who are here for it are really talented. Almost all our classes are comprised mostly of art classes and 95% of kids who graduate from the school from the arts program go on to do what they do professionally.

But it's also very competitive. There are only about 300 arts kids in the whole school which is very little compared to the 3,000 kids in all four grades.

So now that I have given the layout of our wonderful (but super shitty) school, I'll move on to layout.

I passed Brie and her cheerleading buddies and walked into the school, passing by nerds, couples making out, and cheerleaders in their short skirts. This was the main part of the building where all the regular people hung out. But then, as soon as you pass the art studio, things completely change. People go from wearing Gucci boots and bags and Prada high heels and jewelry, to Hot Topic splattered tees, oversized plaid shirts, and spandex leotards with leg warmers and floaty skirts that flutter gracefully behind them as they walk. It's like a whole different world.

I sighed to myself and kept walking. Most of the dancers stared as I walked past. Some of the looked at me and awe, some in surprise. Some smiled. Some jaws dropped. Some gasped. I knew why they were being weird. Over the summer, I had won nationals for best solo piece in America and placed 3rd for best original choreographed dance. A/N I know there isn't a lot of competitions for dance or any nationals or whatever that they have in sports, but I am sort of making the dancing in the school very competitive.

So I was a bit of a celebrity among my art buddies. I walked down the hall with my head held high, my perfect bun was pulled tight and I kept my back straight, showing off my perfect posture.

I found my locker then. It has been my locker for three whole years now. This is the last year I will ever use it. Then it will be given to a new freshmen who will use it until they graduate and so on. Lockers at Pandemonium are really big. This is because the kids who are athletes, artists, or dancers need to fit a lot of supplies in their lockers. Sports equipment, canvas, ballet shoes, clothes, hair stuff, everything. All the lockers are made of polished black wood and the insides are white. Mine is neatly organized. I have a folded pile of dance clothes on my bottom shelf, hair supplies and makeup on the second, shoes on the third, books and school stuff on the fourth, art supplies on the fifth, and other random stuff on the top.

After I had unpacked my stuff from my messenger bag, I grabbed a pair of white tights, a black leotard, my pointe shoes, and a black ballet skirt to throw into my changing bag for later.

Then I went to find Simon.

Simon was in the cafeteria with his friend Maia, talking about Manga and videogames. His face lit up when he saw me.

"How's the little champ?" He asked, trying the muss my hair. I slapped his hand away before he could do any damage.

"Don't call me that."

Simon just grinned and tried to mess with my hair again.

I slapped his hand again.

"Aw, Clare Bear. You should leave your hair down. Show it off. Half the girls in our grade would kill for hair like yours. Seriously."

I rolled my eyes at him and smoothed my red hair down.

"Please, like anyone wants this color." I point to my hair and chuckle.

Maia rolled her eyes, "Please, now that you're a national winner, how much do you want to be that every single dancer in this school will dress like you and dye their hair likes yours by the end of the week. I'm already seeing your style of dressing being picked up by some new freshies.

I looked down at my black ballet tee and knee length white chiffon skirt. I shrugged.

"Whatever."

Maia rolled her eyes, but changed the topic, "Hey, did you hear that Jace and Aline broke up?"

My eyebrows rose, "Wow, really?"

Maia nodded, "Yeah, apparently they were never together."

I choked, "WHAT!"

Maia smirked, "Yeah, apparently Aline has a girlfriend and Jace was just helping her by covering for her when they went on dates."

Simon rolled his eyes, "I'm happy she came out and everything, but Jace being single isn't good news."

Jace Lightwood was the hottest guy in Pandemonium. He was the adoptive son of Maryse and Robert Lightwood and adoptive brother to Max, Izzy, and Alec Lightwood.

He was the most popular guy at school and captain of the football team.

"Clary?" I snapped out of my daydream and looked into Simon's eyes.

"What?"

"I've called you, like, 5 times."

"oh, sorry. I'm really tired, that's all."

Simon smirked, "Yeah, being a national champion and all."

I groaned, "Please, just shut up."

At this moment the bell rang, signalling the start of the school day.

I jumped up, suddenly a bit excited. School may suck and the people here may be annoying (except for Simon and Maia) but at least the first half of my day is completely comprised of ballet and drawing. It's only after lunch that I have to do the boring stuff like history and math.

Simon sighed and stood up, stretching as he did so, "Maia and I need to go to robotics and you should get to dance."

I nodded and raced off to the locker rooms by the dance studio.

So there are 4 lockers rooms for girls in our school. One is the gym and sports locker room. It smells like sweat and is really gross. One is the cheerleading locker room. It's nice but smells really fake and there is usually a bunch of really scandalous underwear lying around along with a couple spending quality time together. Then there's the swimming locker room which is really small and has drains everywhere. It smells like moldy towels and chlorin. The best locker room however, is the girl's dance changing room. Yeah, that's right. We may be ignored and called loser dance freaks, but we have the best locker rooms, so everyone else can suck it.

The dance locker room smells like light roses and rain. The walls are a light baby blue and the floors are dark wood. It's really spacious and there are mirrors everywhere. Each locker has a hook for our pointe shoes and a shelf for our clothing. On one side is a bar where we can get warmed up if we want to and on the other are some shower booths that are actually, surprisingly clean.

I quickly got changed into the clothes I had brought and re tied my bun, spraying in some hairspray. People who think ballet is easy. Let me tell you something. Ballet is harder than almost every single sport out there. We spend almost all our time on our toes. I will not even tell you how many times I have pulled something from dancing.

Also, ballet dancers have to wear a lot of makeup. The lights on stage make us pale and we need to wear makeup in order for our faces to be seen. I don't' wear my makeup outside of class and neither do any of my classmates. It's super heavy. You might be wondering why we have to wear makeup to class. This is because we need to get used to the feeling of it while we dance. Or if you're like me and sweat a lot, you need to find a brand of makeup that won't melt off your face and have to test a bunch of different stuff out.

I stepped out onto the wooden dance floor and was greeted by stares. Madame Reese, our ballet teacher clapped her hands and told us to warm up. I began to do plies while holding onto the bar. The rest of the class quickly followed. I found myself next to Helen blackthorn, a pretty blonde dancer. SHe is one of the best in the class and can dance circles around some of the others. Although we have never known each other very well, we had spent 3 years in the same room for hours and got along very well. We always talked during warm up and today was no exception.

"Hey," she whispered quietly, "Congrats. On nationals."

I smile, "Thanks. So, what's new with you?"

Helen shrugged, "I went to dance camp over the summer and also competed at nationals. Though I didn't place anywhere near you."

I tilt my head, "Didn't you get 9th for solo?"

Helen nodded and I rolled my eyes, "That's still amazing. You're the 9th best high school girl dancer in the whole US. And there are a lot of high school girls dancers. Just saying."

We moved to practicing tendus.

"Thanks. I wouldn't be surprised if you scored all the main roles though."

"And I wouldn't be surprised if you scored all the supporting roles."

Helen looked sheepish, "well...yeah, you're' probably right."

"So, how is Julian?" I referred to Helen's brother in junior year. He was here for the painting program. I was his mentor. (Sophomores get assigned freshmen as students and they mentor them for two years)

Helen grinned, "He's annoying as always."

I chuckled, "He's not that bad. He needs to learn how to not get paint in his hair though. Seriously, I turn around for one second and when I turn back his hair looks like he splattered a rainbow on it!"

Helen burst into giggles, earning a sharp glare from Madame Reese.

She covered her mouth and grinned, "I know, I was talking about it with Aline the other day and we think it's because-"

"Wait, you know Aline?"

"Yes, I'm her girlfriend of 2 years now."

I almost tripped over my feet.

"You're Aline's girlfriend?"

Helen nodded, biting her lip, "I came out to my parents a month ago. My siblings too. Julian had already guessed though so he wasn't surprised. I'm a bit worried I'll be frowned on though, you know what it's like here. And I'm already a dancer. people already make fun of us about weight."

Helen looked down at her thin stomach. Like mine, I could count her ribs. And it's not that we starved ourselves or anything. It was just the constant strain on our muscles that make us so skinny and muscular. Dancers in our school are often teased. People start rumors of us having eating disorders and call us foul names behind our backs. Helen, being tall and skinny, gets the worst of it.

I lifted one leg onto the bar, stretching my hamstring, "Don't worry about what those bitches on the cheerleading team say. They're just jealous they can't rock spandex as well as we can. Besides, it's cool. I think it's nice someone finally came out into the open about this kind of stuff. I bet we have a lot more people like you here who are too scared to come clean because they think they'll be shunned. Maybe you'll start a revolution. The dance team fully supports you. And if they don't, I'll make them. They worship me, remember?" I winked at her, making her giggle.

"It's just, I'm also scared for Aline. She's a cheerleader. The popular crowd. What's going to happen now she's going to hang out with me? She was even fake-dating Jace Lightwood! She might get kicked off the team."

I snort, "Please, they kick her off the team, they aren't going to nationals. She's the best flyer they have. Besides, if they're going to dump her because she's in a long term relationship and they're too busy being sad singles, then they weren't worth her time anyway."

Helen was looking at me with admiration. It made me feel happy that I had made her feel better. Before Helen could say anything though, Madame Reese clapped her hands.

"Okay, studenz," she said in her clipped, french accent, "I am very pleased to announce vis year's dance pervorvance. Vis year, ve will pervorming," She paused for effect, "Svan Vake!"

I gasped, "Swan Lake? No way!"

Helen clapped her hands and squealed, "Yes! I love swan lake!"

I felt dizzy with excitement. Swan Lake, possibly the greatest ballet ever written and we were going to perform it?

Madame Reese looked ecstatic, "I knew you vould like it." She looked at me and Helen and smiled and I felt my heart soar.

Madame Reese then raised her voice over the excited squeals that had broken out, "Auditions for Odette being on Vednesday. Auditions for the male lead on Thursday. Audition vor other parts are Friday so if vou don't get a part, you can audition for another. Class is over for today. You are deezmissed."

The dancers began to push their way out of the room. I was about to follow, but Madame Reese called my name, "Clarissa, I need to talk to you."

I told Helen to go ahead without me and faced Madame Reese, making sure I was in perfect posture and my hands were folded gracefully.

"Yes Madame Reese?"

Madame Reese gestured for me to come forwards.

I came over carefully, pointing my shoes and keeping my back straight; I didn't want to appear sloppy in front of her.

"Clarissa, it is no secret that you and Miss Blackthorn are the best ballerinas in this school."

I felt a rush of pride, Madame Reese was my favorite teacher and she approved of me!

"As you know, Miss Blackthorn has a very full schedule with all her siblings and whatnot."

Where was this going?

"Which is why I am asking you to pose for a student here."

I shake my head slowly, "I'm sorry, I don't understand. Pose?"

Madame Reese nodded excitedly.

"Vun of the photographers wants to take photos of a dancer. I told him I would find vun of our best. It is vor his college portvolio so it vill last a couple weeks."

I nodded slowly, "I would love to pose for him. When is the first meeting?"

Madame Reese beamed, "After school today vould be great! Can you make it?"

I hesitated, going over my schedule, "Yeah, I can. So, I'll see you then?"

Madame Reese nodded and I stepped into the deserted dressing room.

After dressing, I threw on an oversized plaid shirt and headed to my art class.

Julian was waiting for me, his paints already squirted onto his pallets and his hair was curling over the sides of his beanie hat, already specked with paint.

He looked expectantly at me and I rolled my eyes and jerked my head towards the direction of the dance studio.

He nodded, understanding.

This is how Julian and I communicated. By eyes, head nods, and sometimes an occasional conversation or question. We both were introverts and prefered to either listen to music or paint quietly.

All the other mentor groups chatted.

Julian was different though. He was the best in his class and had already sold a bunch of his paintings. He was better than me, that's for sure. Which is why on the first day of sophomore year, we both decided that he would teach me how to paint instead.

I stepped up to the board and Julian pulled up a stool for him to sit on.

"What do you wanna paint?" He asked. His voice was raspy and low. Most people would think that it was because he never spoke so his voice was a little rusty. I knew that it was because he hurt his vocal chords in 8th grade.

"Um, I want to paint a ballet dancer." I took a quick peek at Julian to find him chuckling.

He muttered under his breathe, "Course you do," then he waved his hand at the board, signaling me to start.

I looked down at the oil paints spread out on the artist pallet.

Cadmium red, ultramarine blue, burnt umber.

I ignored the cadmium red and saved that for later since red oil paint takes a long time to dry.

Instead I began to mix burnt umber and ultramarine blue to make black.

I took my pallet knife and began to sheath the paint on, scoring the canvas and making the paint uneven and the texture rough and course.

Julian was painting next to me now. He was painting in watercolor and was making strokes of blue on the paper.

I turned away, knowing those streaks would turn into something beautiful over the next couple days.

An hour and a few tips from Julian later, class ended, leaving us to clean up and leaving me to head to music.

Julian had photography though, a class he despised.

"It's not real art!" he had complained when I first asked him about his hatred. I had just laughed at him and shook my head.

Before I stepped into the music room, I took off my plaid shirt and left it in my bag.

Music was the one class I had with all the popular kids. Since most of them thought they were good at singing, they had all signed up. Bad idea, they all sucked. The only good ones were the music majors and a couple of the cheerleaders. Everyone was completely tone deaf.

I held my head high and gracefully made my across the music room. I knew if I slouched or showed weakness, it would be a reason to pick on me.

I took a seat next to Aline and Helen, who were sitting together.

Helen leaned over Aline and whispered, "We're getting a new student today. And, she;s an arts student."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. New art students are really rare.

"She's in junior year and I think she's here for music, photography, and ballet."

I cocked my head, "Wow, she must be really good to be able to join junior year."

Helen nodded, her blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders.

Aline tugged at one of Helen's curls and giggled as it bounced up and down.

Helen fake glared at her and narrowed her eyes.

Aline shrugged and tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

She turned to me, "Her name is Emma. That's all know though. I saw her. She's blonde. All the cheerleaders want her to try out for the team."

I scoffed.

Music passed by quickly. We just figured out who were altos baes, sapranos, and etc.

I ate lunch with Simon, Julian, and Maia, but was soon joined by Helen and Aline because the popular table didn't allow Helen to sit with them.

Math and English sucked and history was the worst.

I was happy to finally change back into my dance clothes and head to the dance studio where Madame Reese said to go to.

I twisted my hair back into a tight bun and stepped on the polished floors for a second time that day.

Madae Reese was talking to a student, his back towards me.

He was way taller than her, around 6 feet, and had messy curly blonde hair.

Madame Reese saw me and clapped her hands.

"Clarissa! She as arrived!"

The boy turned around and I felt my eyes go wide.

"Jace Lightwood?" I said accidentally in disbelief.

Jace flashed a set of white teeth, "Yeah, that's me. Are you Clarissa Fray?"

W. T. F. Jace Lightwood was in photography?

WWWHHHAATTT?

Why didn't I know this?

Oh wait….now that I think about it, Julian has mentioned Jace being in his class before.

"Um, Clary."

Jace nodded. So, should we start taking photos? I've set up my stuff on the stage, we can go now."

He looked at Madame Reese who nodded.

Jace then slung a worn bag over his shoulder and walked to the door.

"You coming?"

He was looking at me.

"Um, yeah. One second."

Because there was a lot of paint and stuff on the floor of the school, dancers always had to take off their shoes so as not to ruin them.

I quickly untied my pointe shoes and slung them over my shoulder.

I followed Jace down the hall, walking quickly and swiftly.

Jace smirked, "So, I heard you won nationals."

I nodded my head.

"That's quite an accomplishment."

I nodded my head.

"Is dancing hard?"

I nodded my head.

"You don't like to talk much, do you?"

I nodded my head.

Jace chuckled.

We reached the doors to the stage and we stepped in.

Jace had set up a bar and a spotlight. His camera was on a table and it was very dark.

Jace looked me up and down, taking in my clothes. I suddenly felt self-conscious and crossed my arms.

Jace smirked, "You're going to have to take that off."

He pointed to my wrapped ballet sweater. I sighed and shrugged it off, revealing the top of my black leotard.

"Do you want me to take off the skirt too? Or is this good?" I gestured to my black wrap skirt. Jace shook his head, "Nah, you're good. I just need to capture your arms for this. So, can you do a routine or something? I'll just be here taking pictures.

"Yeah, just let me put on my shoes."

I sat down and began to lace up my shoes. I could feel Jace's eyes on me and felt myself blushing.

I started my ipod and turned to my solo piece, the one I had performed at nationals.

I stood up and walked to where the spotlight was. Striking a pose, I lifted my arms into the air, gracefully like a bird.

Then, I looked at the very edge of the theater to the farthest seat. The same seat I had first sat in as a freshmen.

I let go.

I began to dance.

A/N I love french accents, I think they are adorable but I have no idea how to write in one so Madame Reese's may sound a bit weird.

What did you think? Good, bad? Review!

I always imagine Helen as a non-cartoon version of Helga Sinclair, just not evil.

I dunno why, I just do.