Hi!
This idea sort of came to me when I was listening to "Jolene" by Dolly Parton. But if you're going to listen to the song then I recommend you listen to this version .com/watch/?v=ZP_BWWmA5nE
which is a version by Sam from the Glee Project (you may have already seen it). It's the same lyrics as the original, but I feel the cover sets the mood of the script more closely.
Anyway, so basically this is just something I came up with. I don't think this is how Kaelie is actually supposed to feel about Jace, but I thought this might be how she would react if she did feel this way. You might not like it, but I thought it was worth a shot.
I think Kaelie is unnecessarily picked on a lot, so I wrote this hoping that people would read it with no bias.
Enjoy.
The cool air of early morning pricked the back of Kaelie's neck as she walked down the down the cracked concrete of suburban Brooklyn.
To anyone who might have seen her, she looked like just another washed up, sickly whore, staggering home in shame after a night of sin. It was an understandable assumption. She was still dressed in the short, black skirt and blouse she wore to work, and she knew that she looked a shock. Her tights were ripped, riddled holes and ladders, running up her thigh. Her eyes were bloodshot, a combination of both alcohol and tears. She was drunk. She knew that much, but she didn't care. She had only one thought on her mind.
Jace.
She knew that what she was doing was stupid. It was a pathetic act, one that she would have turned her nose up to in the past. But she was running out of options. She was desperate.
She and Jace had never had, nor ever would, have a proper relationship. Neither of them was exclusive to one another. Jace would always leave her in the end. Always drop her and run off after the prettier, more exciting, better thing whenever she came within his grasp, which was often. Girls were always pining over Jace. His predatory eyes and smooth honey like voice were more than enough seduction for even the most self-respecting woman.
But the thing with Jace, the thing that gave her hope for them;
He always came back to her. Every time.
But this time, with this girl, was different. This time he wasn't going to come back. She could see it in his eyes. The way he looked at her, what she knew he felt for her was unlike anything she had ever seen in him. It was like a fire burning in the back of his eyes.
And she was beautiful, of course, with her ivory skin and emerald eyes, eyes that she saw Jace get lost in every time. That paired with her flaming locks of auburn hair overpowered and outshone her own pale, blue eyes and limp, bleached hair. Even her personality was on fire, enigmatic and captivating. She could never compete with her, even if she tried.
And even the way Jace said this beauty's name. As if she was some sort of divine figure, up in the ranks with Raziel and God.
Clary. The name filled Kaelie with a sense of betrayal and desperation. It made her breathing grow short and her heart contract.
Clary was taking Jace away from her, Kaelie could see that. And honestly, if she let herself be reasonable about it, there was nothing she could do about it. Jace was already gone, already captured in by Clary's deep, sparkling eyes.
Jace barely spoke to her anymore, never more than to order a side of fries or a plate of spaghetti. He had moved on. Because she hadn't meant anything to him. Just another girl, one more added to the, most likely, never ending list of booty calls. She should be glad. She should feel lucky that she had gotten a taste of Jace Wayland at all. Most girls would only wish to be so fortunate.
But she never felt lucky with Jace. She was almost numb when she around him, so filled with relief that he had chosen her that she couldn't feel anything else at all. And then he was gone and she felt his loss, like it was a physical hole in her chest. Like a meth addict suffering from withdrawal, she always missed him when he was gone, but never felt him when he was there.
She hadn't even minded it when he left, as long as he was coming back. But this time she knew he was gone forever. He had Clary. He loved her. The thought of it made her feel slightly sick.
She didn't want to let go of him, not this easily. Her happiness depended on it.
So that's how she found herself staggering, half drunk, down the quiet, bitumen road in Brooklyn, at three in the morning, headed up towards the second hand bookstore. There was no truck parked in the carport.
Was she even home?
At the precise moment Kaelie was thinking that, a burst of soft, yellow light appeared from down the back down the side of the house. She could see movement in the shadows cast by the glow. Then the light flickered off, and it was dark down the side of the house. Kaelie, feeling bolder and more courageous than usual, slid down the concrete driveway to the backdoor.
She knocked on the door, softly at first. There was a voice in the back of her head telling her that this was a very bad idea. This was not the type of thing she usually did. This was the type of thing lonely people did. This was the type of thing sad people did.
But you are lonely, and you are sad. A different voice was talking to her this time. It, oddly, took on Clary, of all peoples, light, summery tone.
She suddenly felt angry, and she knocked on the door again, harder this time. Rage burnt in her chest as she listened to the fluttery footsteps approaching the door. She clenched her fists tight against her skirt and the door opened part way, as long as the safety chain inside the house would let it. And there, standing in the doorway was the small, redheaded beauty, staring at Kaelie with big, round, shocked eyes. She was, obviously, the last person Clary had expected to see standing there. Kaelie wasn't even supposed to know where she lived.
"Kaelie?" Clary's voice sounded like sleep, and Kaelie wondered distantly if maybe she was dreaming this whole thing up. What if she was still laying asleep in her bed, and this- coming down to Brooklyn, knocking on Clary's door- was just something her mind had made up.
"Can I come in?" As soon as Kaelie spoke, every bit of anger vanished from her body, and she was left with nothing more than raw desperation.
Clary opened the door, unhitching the security chain and let her in.
The room was dark, brightened only by an aging lamp on a small table shoved into the small space between the threadbare couch and armchair, emitting a dull glow.
Clary gestured towards the couch and they sat, distancing herself from the painfully thin blonde.
Kaelie drew in a shaky breathe.
"I just want to talk to you." When she had begun to track down Clary (It had been simple. She's only had to find the bookstore owned by the werewolf she was so fond of), she had been angry. But since knocking on the back door of the dark house, her anger had withered down to a sliver of half hearted hope. Hope that she still had a chance.
Jace had been the only guy she's ever dated who had seemed to appreciate her. And that was the thing with the shadowhunter; every girl he slept around with, he made to feel special. Whether that was ultimately better or worse, she did not know. What she did know was that when Jace had spoken to her, he had spoken to her like she was the only girl in the world. He made her feel important, even if only for an hour or so.
"So talk," Clary said now, "Tell me why you're here, at three in the morning, on a Thursday night." She sounded irritated, and a bit apprehensive. Kaelie didn't blame her, not one bit.
"Please don't take him." She blurted it out, before she could stop herself.
Clay looked surprised.
"What?"
"I'm asking you, please." Her voice came out broken up and strained, "Please don't take him just because you can."
"What?" She said again, "Is this about Jace? Kaelie, that's ridiculous."
"Clar-" She started, but was cut off.
"Why do you even care? It's not like you two had anything to start with." Kaelie winced at the words, and Clary went pale, clamping her mouth shut. She regretted the words.
The smaller girl breathed in, slowly. "What I mean is; Jace wasn't the first or only person you've ever been with, and you guys weren't even serious. Why does it matter to you so much?"
"He was the only one who came back, Clary." Kaelie's voice was slurred, still tainted with the effects of the vodka she'd engulfed earlier in the night, "He always came back."
Clary was silent.
"I'm sorry," The redhead said, after what seemed like hours of them simply looking at each other. "I love him."
Kaelie sighed, closing her eyes momentarily. She had it in her right mind to keep them closed. She didn't want to face the look in Clary's eyes again. She didn't want to face the look of pity.
"You're not sorry." She opened her eyes. The soft light from the lamp was casting shadows across the other girls face. "But that's okay. You don't have a reason to be sorry. He love you too."
She stood up abruptly.
"I'm sorry about this." She made her way towards the back door. "I shouldn't have come. I don't even know what I was trying to achieve."
"Kael-." Clary's voice faded away as the blonde girl waved her hand at her dismissively.
"I should leave." She opened the door herself, and stepped out of the warm living room into the cold, dark morning. She was about to walk away, when she turned around and looked back at Clary, who was biting her lip nervously, standing in the doorway.
"Can I ask you a small favour?" She asked.
"Of course." Clary cocked her head to the side.
"Don't tell Jace about this okay? Let's just pretend this never happened." Clary nodded, and Kaelie started to walk away. She had only gotten halfway down the driveway when she heard Clary calling to her.
"Kaelie! Wait!" She was half running down the path to catch up with her. Her breath made small clouds of white vapour as she panted.
"Do you have a place to sleep tonight?" The question surprised her.
"Oh, I'm sure somebody; somewhere has a place in their bed for me." She joked, but Clary didn't laugh. But then again, she was only half joking.
Kaelie watched as Clary walked back to the back door, through which yellow light was leaking out into the back yard.
The petite girl looked back at her once, but Kaelie had already turned away, making her way out onto the door. Clary closed the door, enclosing the yellow light within the room, taking with it the small amount of colour it had supplied. The starch white light of the streetlights bleached everything of their colour, giving everything it touched a pale, unhealthy look.
Over head, three or four of the streetlights died off, the result of a short circuit or damaged wiring. The street was left in relative darkness,
Kaelie just kept on walking.
Jolene by Dolly Parton
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Im begging of you please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him just because you can
Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green
Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, JoleneHe talks about you in his sleep
There's nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name, JoleneAnd I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man
But you don't know what he means to me, JoleneJolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Im begging of you please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him just because you canYou could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
He's the only one for me, JoleneI had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, JoleneJolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Im begging of you please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him even though you can
Jolene, Jolene
So? Love it? Hate it? Want to throw it in a burning pit of fire?
Review! Let me know!
Love,
Beth