Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, obviously. Just want to see Jace and Clary happy on Shadowhunters.
"Hold it!" Maia Roberts, her Agent/PA orders before she moves to hop out of the chauffeured car.
Beyond the tinted windows, the flashing lights of Pandemonium, LA's hottest club, beckons to her. She an already see the line of people stretching around the block, and she smiles to herself at the knowledge that she'll be let right through.
"Maia, I look fine, really." She promises her friend, shifting slightly in her seat so that Maia can peruse her stunning navy Rag & Bone dress and the rest of her outfit at length.
"It wouldn't do to have you flashing your goodies to the paparazzi, would it? You have an image to uphold Clarissa." Maia drawls in her Southern accent, drawing her full name out with a teasing smile as she reaches out to tug slightly at the strap of her dress.
"Lipstick check?" She asks of Maia before baring her teeth, the other woman checking that there's no unsightly marks on her teeth that will be picked up by the flash of the camera.
"You're clear. Have fun babe. You deserve it after your hard work this season."
Her TV show, Shadowhunters had experienced a wildly successful second season, the executives immediately renewing it for a third, guaranteeing her another 18 months of work. It was her first project where she was the top billed actress, the headliner and main character of the show.
Her role as Clarissa Fairchild, a human who found out that she was actually a Shadowhunter, someone destined to protect the mortal world from the supernatural, was based off a series of books that were bestsellers, so the TV show had already had an organic audience and very excitable fanbase to back it.
Even she hadn't imagined just how successful it would be, and just how far her profile would be raised as a result. She wasn't a household name yet, but she was certainly getting recognised more and more each time she stepped out of her apartment.
Tonight happened to be the wrap party for Season 2, the studio having rented out most of Pandemonium to accommodate the countless cast, crew, and writers who had all worked tirelessly through all hours of the day and night to bring the show to life.
With one last smile at Maia, who would no doubt join the party a little later, she reaches for the handle of the car door and pushes it open, the clicking of cameras immediately assaulting her senses as she plants her heeled feet on the ground.
Drawing herself up to her full height, she lets her trademark auburn hair fall into her face, shielding her eyes from the worst of the flashes.
"Clarissa! Clarissa! Give us a smile sweetheart!" one of the paparazzi yell.
She obliges, knowing that the whole ordeal would be a lot less painful once they got the shot that they needed. She's lucky that she looks so put together, she couldn't guarantee the same after a few hours of dancing and drinking.
But then again, that's what back entrances were for.
The bouncer is ushering her into the dimly lit entrance of Pandemonium within seconds, stepping forward and using his bulk to shield her body from the swarming of the paparazzi as they try to get one last shot of her entering the club.
Immediately her senses are assaulted with flickering lights and the acrid smell of smoke as she weaves through a few partygoers clustered near the entrance, not recognising any of them as crew members or cast mates.
A piercing wolf whistle directs her gaze towards the bar, where Isabelle Lightwood is leaning up against the surface, tanned legs a mile long and wearing a sultry scarlet dress that brought out the best of her curvy figure.
The throbbing bass line makes the floor vibrate beneath her feet, and she can't help but swing her hips to the sultry tune spilling from the speakers as she makes her way towards Isabelle.
Like her, Isabelle had got her start acting in small time TV roles before breaking through with her role as Izzy on Shadowhunters. Isabelle had quickly become one of her closest friends, and she can't help but let a smile creep across her face as Isabelle leans forward and presses a noisy kiss to her cheek.
"A drink for the star of the show please darling." She purrs towards the bartender, who looks absolutely struck dumb by how gorgeous Isabelle was.
Within seconds there's a drink in front of her, Isabelle lifting her own glass as they clink them together.
"To continued employment!" Isabelle declares. "And another successful season of course." She adds with a quick wink before downing her drink before gesturing for another.
She sips at her own glass, relishing the taste of alcohol mixed in with whatever Isabelle had chosen for her.
"So where have you been Fray?" Isabelle asks with a raised eyebrow, taking her by the wrist and tugging her through the crowd. "I hear you've been doing Vanity Fair you lucky bitch!" Isabelle has to raise her voice to be heard above the noise, and she rolls her eyes fondly in the direction of her best friend.
"Where's Alec!" She yells back as Isabelle commanders a booth before someone else can get there, cutting them off with a withering glare as she sinks back into the red velvet seat.
"Making out with his boyfriend of course." Isabelle replies in a bored voice, tilting her head to the side. She follows the direction of Isabelle's gaze, seeing Alec Lightwood at the corner of the dance floor, drink held in one hand, the front of his boyfriend's shirt in the other.
Magnus Bane, coincidentally the owner of Pandemonium plus other nightclubs scattered across LA, was currently the object of Alec's attentions, and seemed completely oblivious to his surroundings as he made out with his boyfriend.
"Huh. Still going strong then I see?" She observes as Isabelle turns a dark gaze on her with a slow smile.
"My brother is happy. As long as that continues to happen I'll put up with Magnus' amazing hair and his impeccable sense of style." Isabelle drawls as she takes another sip of her drink.
"Oh come on, you totally love Magnus." She teases Isabelle, flicking her hair over one shoulder.
"Okay, I totally do." Isabelle admits with a laugh. "What about you? Any progress on your love life?"
She just sighs in response, resting her head on the velvet seat back behind her. After a somewhat messy break up with Sebastian Verlac, a British supermodel around 18 months ago, she hadn't been game enough to even think about getting back onto the dating scene again.
Sebastian as it turns out, had been perfectly gentlemanly to her when they were together, but had also been screwing three other girls behind her back. Needless to say once she had found out that particular tidbit of information, things hadn't lasted long between them.
She'd thrown his stuff out onto the LA street outside her apartment, and had texted him telling him to never come near her again and that they were through.
As up herself as she sounded, it was hard dating in LA, let alone when you had some sort of profile. Musicians were usually too absorbed in their music, models were for the most part arrogant and above everyone else, and actors didn't have the time to commit to a relationship that went on for more than a few months.
That was why actors tended to have flings while working with each other on set. It lasted for a few months before they went their separate ways, suffering through the inevitable promotional junket and string of premieres that would have them reuniting for a few weeks.
Dating non famous people was even harder than dating famous people. Often they didn't understand the acting world, couldn't handle her being away for months on end with very little contact. In the end, it was far easier to just be single.
"Nada." She replies mournfully to Isabelle. "Maybe Sebastian has ruined me for all men."
"Sebastian was pretty, but he was a dick." Isabelle says bluntly. "I knew it, and although you didn't want to admit it yourself, you knew it as well."
"Yeah I know. But no, no progress on the love life. Maia has been keeping me busy with a few bits and pieces here and there."
It's easy enough to fall into conversation with Isabelle, barely breaking her train of thought when Alec and Magnus sink down onto the couch on either side of Isabelle, listening in and exchanging jokes and anecdotes as they all catch up.
The only person missing from their little quartet is Simon, who was currently filming a guest spot for NCIS in Washington DC.
After some time, Isabelle downs the drink in her hand, gesturing for her to do the same.
"Come on. Let's go dance."
It's what seems like hours later that she finds herself at the bar, pouring herself a glass of water. Her hair is plastered to the back of her neck, dress dampened with sweat from all the dancing with Isabelle, Alec, and Magnus.
Her feet were starting to ache in her Giuseppe Zanotti espadrilles, and she craved the feeling of sinking into her warm, fluffy bed and getting a decent nights sleep. Night filming had really taken it out of her for the past few months.
"Clarissa Fray!" A voice yells in her ear as she turns to take in the tall, willowy woman leaning up on the bar next to her.
She's absolutely gorgeous, with the hazel eyes, jet black hair, and high cheekbones.
"Aline Penhallow." The other woman holds out a hand to introduce herself, and she reaches across to shake it briefly, having no idea who the hell this woman was.
"Forgive me for startling you." Aline continues with a genuine smile. "I'm an agent. Is there somewhere that we can have a conversation in private?"
She smiles to herself as she takes Aline's business card, because she's been propositioned by plenty of agents before looking to get her away from Maia. But Maia was the best, and she'd politely turned them all down.
She leans in closer to Aline, making sure that her voice would be heard above the heavy bass of the Usher track spilling across the dance floor.
"I'm flattered but I already have an agent!"
Aline shakes her head, leaning in again.
"You misunderstand me Clarissa." Aline replies easily with a laugh that shows her brilliant, white teeth. "What I wish to discuss with you concerns one of my clients. Do you have a moment?"
She teeters on her heels, slightly intrigued by what Aline might be talking about. It probably wasn't the best idea to be talking to another agent in an environment like this, but she knew that Magnus' office out the back of the club was probably free, and she hadn't drank enough alcohol that she had completely taken leave of her senses.
"I know a place. Follow me." She gestures for Aline to head towards the door directly behind them, the music instantly fading to a dull throb once the heavy sound proofed door slams shut behind them.
"God that music is loud." Aline murmurs under her breath, following her down the hallway and into Magnus' opulent office. "Thanks Clarissa. I won't take up too much of your time. I know you're here for your wrap party."
"I'm not sure why this discussion couldn't wait for another time to be honest." She replies pointedly, leaning up against Magnus' desk and crossing her arms over her chest.
Aline just throws her head back and laughs throatily.
"I certainly wasn't intending to run into you tonight, but couldn't pass up the opportunity once I had. Tell me, have you heard of Jace Wayland?" Aline asks her suddenly, and she freezes at the sound of that name.
Unlike her, Jace Wayland was a household name. At just 26 years of age, a slew of successful roles and an Academy Award nomination had meant that Jace was hot property in Hollywood, easily one of it's biggest stars right now.
Unlike most actors these days, Jace Wayland was a legitimate triple threat. He could sing, he could dance, and he could most certainly act. It was kind of unfair, that someone that genetically blessed could be that good at everything he chose to set his mind to.
He also happened to be her ex boyfriend.
Six years ago, when she had first moved to this city, she had met Jace Wayland in a coffee shop in downtown LA. He'd been struggling to find jobs just like she had, and they'd very quickly bonded over their circumstances, about the crappy jobs they'd had to pick up on the side so that they could afford the rent.
It had been easy enough to fall into his arms and his bed. Jace had been charming and handsome and effortlessly polite, willing to support her through all the ups and downs that came with navigating the LA acting scene while he did the same.
But then, Jace had hit it big with a small part in a Nolan movie. Filming took him to London for 6 months for the WWII era flick, and although it was only a small part, it certainly got his name out there, his performance in the film cementing himself as a force to be reckoned with.
And then the tabloids had released pictures of Jace, in the arms of one Camille Belcourt, a Victorias Secret Angel who seemingly had no problem with the fact that Jace was in a relationship, if the way that she was kissing him outside of a nightclub had been any indication.
She'd only found out when one of her friends had pointed it out, and Jace had ignored all her efforts to contact him, blocking her number and seemingly erasing her from his life. Years later it had still stung, because she couldn't understand why he had done it, what had went so wrong with them.
Tumultuous history aside, the name was not one that she had anticipated hearing from Aline Penhallow's lips.
"Clarissa?" Aline prompts her, and she realises that she's been lost in thought for far too long as she blinks back at the other woman.
"Sorry. Of course I've heard of Jace Wayland. Who hasn't?" She replies with a quick smile. "He's the biggest name around town right now."
"Yes he is." Aline replies with a self satisfied smile. "In fact, I have a rather interesting proposition for you."
She gets to her feet, staring down Aline with a careful gaze.
"Unless it's an offer to act in one of his movies, I'm not interested." She says stiffly, Aline raising an eyebrow at her tone.
"Anything concerning Jace Wayland would be an attractive offer for any actress in this town. Hear me out Clary."
She freezes at the shortened version of her name, because Jace aside all those years ago, the only people that ever called her Clary was Isabelle, Alec, Magnus, Simon, and Maia. Her closest friends and co workers. To everyone else, she was simply Clarissa.
"Fine." She replies with a sigh, running a hand through her hair, working out a tangle or two.
"Have you ever heard of publicity relationships Clarissa?"
"You've got to be kidding me." She shoots back at Aline, because she wasn't a complete idiot when it came to the industry. Publicity or PR relationships were a lot more common than the general public thought.
They could last weeks, months, or even years in the case of Brangelina, all intended to build a certain image of a couple, to establish their dominance in this town and open up all sorts of opportunities that otherwise wouldn't be afforded to them.
"I'm deadly serious Clarissa." Aline replies seriously. "My client, Jace, is in need of a way to soften his image given his latest antics in the press."
Which she certainly hadn't kept up with thank you very much. Jace Wayland might be everywhere right now, but that didn't mean that she had to consume news about her ex and follow his movements 24/7. Jace Wayland was a part of her history.
Ancient history, that she liked to keep locked away in a corner of her brain so she didn't have to think about it too much.
"Antics? Why doesn't that surprise me?" She asks, arching a single eyebrow.
"You certainly surmise a lot about Jace given that you've not met him before." Aline points out.
She just rolls her eyes, drawing herself up to her full height.
"Let's cut the bullshit Aline, because we're both busy people. You called me by my nickname, which is known to only a few people in my life. Now you've either overheard someone calling me that, or you've heard it from Jace after he's told you about our past. You can either tell me what the hell you want, or I can walk from this room and pretend that this conversation never happened."
"I like you. You have spunk. Jace warned me about that." Aline pauses before delivering what would ultimately be the death blow. "Jace has asked me to offer you a publicity relationship. With him."
"No." She refuses flatly, not bothering to elaborate further. "You can tell your client that the answer is no. Over my dead body." She hisses, moving past Aline and heading towards the door.
"He's sorry for what it's worth." Aline calls after her. "For how he treated you those years ago."
She freezes, one hand on the door knob as she looks over her shoulder at Aline.
"Then he can come and apologise to me himself."
The loud pounding on her door the next morning has her cracking open one eye, reading the illuminated numbers on her alarm clock.
8.00am.
With a groan and a yawn she swings herself out of bed, grabbing her robe from the hook on the back of her bedroom door.
"Coming!" She yells over the continued sound of pounding on wood, which abruptly cuts off upon the sound of her voice.
She ponders who it could possibly be, immediately crossing Isabelle and Alec off the list, both of whom had had far more to drink last night than she had, and would undoubtedly still be asleep or suffering through their morning routine.
Thank god it was a Saturday and she had no press engagements or other commitments today. She was looking forward to a long day of maybe relaxing in the bath with her favourite book, iPod playing her playlist of the moment in the background.
It was definitely a turn off the phone kind of day.
Muffling her yawn in her hand she wrenches the door open, which in retrospect was probably not the the best idea. Although paparazzi couldn't make it into the building with the doorman and the keycard operated elevator, it wouldn't be the first time that one of her neighbours had caught her in a state of undress.
She freezes at the sight of the tall, slender man leaning up against the wall opposite her door, an unaffected air about him, hands shoved into the pockets of his dark wash jeans.
His leather jacket still suits him just as it always had, blonde hair falling messily into vibrant brown eyes.
Jace Wayland, arguably one of the most famous human beings on the planet right now, is standing in her hallway with an odd smile on his face as he gives her a lazy once over.
"What the hell are you doing here?" She asks, half surprise half anger seeping into her tone at the absolute nerve of him to even show up here.
They were through a long time ago, and although in the early days of the ending of their relationship she'd wished for this very moment so she could tell him everything that she wanted to say to him, she'd long since lost the desire to see him or have anything to do with him.
Their paths had crossed occasionally at industry parties, but she had studiously ignored him, preferring the company of Maia or her friends. As his star had risen meteorically over the past couple of years, the run ins had become less frequent, something for which she was grateful for.
Jace just smiles enigmatically back at her.
"Hello Clary. Cute jammies." He motions to her polka dot printed boxer shorts and singlet top, just barely visible through a slit in her robe.
It's with a scoff that she takes great satisfaction in stepping back and slamming the door in his face.
This was so not what she needed right now.
AN: And I present to you the Clace Actor AU that no one probably wants or needs, but i was dying to write anyway.
If you've never seen me in this fandom before, it's because I've never written for this fandom before. Long time lurker of the books and absolutely love the show however (And Dom Sherwood).
I've written mainly for the TVD fandom, so feel free to check out any of my other stuff (especially if you're a Klaroline fan).
Hope you all enjoyed, and see you on the other side for Chapter 2 :)
Song for this Chapter: If I Didn't Know Better- Sam Palladio and Clare Bowen
- Katie