I would love to be able to begin with a strange alternative backstory. But the fact of the matter is, I'm a rather ordinary girl. I pretend to hate my parents but I secretly love them, I live for and through music, I'm a decently smart student, and I have a method of escapism. I am what many would call an artist, but I try to be so much more than that. I try to see into the souls of others, I try to be a creator. I've always preferred that term, "creator". If I'm anything, that's how I'd describe myself. But I'm afraid I digress. After all, I am trying to tell a story here.

Like I said, I'm not much. I have a group of friends, I have one brother (can I get a "statistically average"?) who is a part of said friend group, and I have a school. I suppose this is the part where I describe Idris. I'm new to this storytelling thing, bear with me. Idris is full of a diverse group of characters, and against all odds, I'm in the clique at the top. It's a boarding school, but we're usually free to come and go as we please. It's a rather hippie school. The teachers are all out there, using very experimental teaching methods. Luckily, they seem to work. There is a curfew, but the teachers are big softies and all you have to do is find a good excuse. They'll fall for "oh I'm so sorry I was visiting my parents and we lost track of time, they wanted to make sure that I came back so I didn't miss any class!" It's sad, almost.

So that pretty much gives you some context, let me walk you through my life now. My average morning starts early, when some indie pop song begins to play from my roommate's alarm. She gets up groggily, the only time she doesn't look perfect (and when she's drunk, but that's beside the point). Her eyes are a peculiar almost black color. Her features are perfect, from her almond eyes, to her regal high cheekbones, perfectly porcelain skin accentuating every bit of her. She's tall and slim, but of course has "all the right curves in all the right places". I swear I'm straight, this is just what my artist mind does. It analyzes things it sees in the world. Isabelle Is my best friend, and she's probably the reason I'm known around the school. People listen to her, and they want to be around her.

"Clary, get up! You promised me you'd start looking cute today!" Isabelle bursts out of our shared bathroom, her raven black hair pin straight. She was dressed simply, for Iz. Black skinny jeans, a tight red top that would've made made my face rival it in color, and high red heels. Her makeup matched perfectly, a smokey eye with a dramatic winged eyeliner and cherry red lips.

"I don't like your chances," I mumble into my pillow.

"Clare, I can do absolutely anything. You remember that freshman Maureen?"

I made a face involuntarily, "How could I forget?"

"Yeah, well, back when she was obsessed with Simon, I knew the only way to get her away from us would be to get her someone else. And I taught her how to dress herself and what do you know? She landed a mildly attractive junior! And you are a much less hopeless cause now get up I got up extra early just to make this work. Please?"

I sit up, feeling to haze around my head of my red knotted up curls. I see Izzy's eyes widen fractionally as she took in her canvas. "Well, we'd better get started!" she somehow manages to be cheerful. I just groan.

When I see the school my face contorts into an expression of disgust. There are too many pastels, too many murals. It looks like a fucking elementary school. There is no way in hell I could be at the right place. My hopes are dashed when I see two students walking from what I gather to be the dorms over to the main building. The two are girls, and both of them are absolutely stunning. One is tall and sexy as fuck, and clearly knows it. She has this long black hair, and a face that matches her perfectly. Sharp, yet fine. The other looks to be her opposite, red curls spilling everywhere, yet I have a feeling they usually aren't as tame as they are now. This one is surprisingly the one that catches me, her petite form working to her advantage. They're getting closer, and I can see her bright green eyes, offset by the black lace dress she's wearing. The dress is cut in a way that doesn't hug her figure all the way down, which I'm thankful for. I don't think that I'd be able to handle it if it was. I realize how long I've been staring and mentally chastise myself. Great way to make a first impression. Before I'm aware, they've reached me.

The tall girl is looking me up and down, and I can't say I blame her. I almost want to interrupt whatever is going on in her head by telling her that it's even better without the clothes. I probably would've, but for some reason I can't bring myself to in front of the shy redhead. She looks up at my face, her cheeks an endearing shade of pink. No not endearing, who says endearing? I don't even know her. Her mouth opens and I already know where I want that mouth.

She speaks softly and with a sort of wonder, her voice full of curiosity and trepidation. "Hi."

Hi guys, this is my first mulitichapter fic so bear with me, sorry about the technicial difficulites between the POVs, I don't have Word atm and I'm copy/pasting, I will try my hardest