Lexia Clarks chapter. Enter Alec Lightwood. And his sexy black hair and Blue eyes!

I was at a strip club and I wasn't happy about it. The music was always too loud, the people a little too friendly, and the drinks ridiculously overpriced. The swirling mass of bodies bussing around me made me sit down at the tiny circular table a little faster, out of fear to bump into someone. Finally able to really look at my surroundings, I was surprised to not find the whole thing tacky, as strip clubs or clubs in general were. The white and black color scheme should have looked like a bad attempt at high class but under the black lights and with crystal tables that somehow changed colors, the whole place gave a feeling of mystery and glamour. Even with that said, the music was still too loud but maybe the whole trip wasn't as big a waste as I had thought.
If only I was here to admire the interior design. I wasn't. I was here to, as my sister Isabelle put it, "check out the man candy."
She was crazy, but then, I already knew that. I just wondered how she got poor Clary roped into the whole thing.
The wonderful establishment I was at was not where I had originally thought I was going. I wanted ice cream from this cute shop down on 9th that had the most amazing butter pecan ice cream I have ever tasted but my sister and her partner in crime had other ideas. They had gone on and on about how I shouldn't be sitting in my very small and very brown apartment my first night back. They had said that I deserved ice cream and from Lola's none the less. So I went with them, the promise of ice cream being the glorious prize at the end of the tunnel.
After about a 20 minute walk, the two's high tinkling giggles and covert looks over their shoulders had clued me in that they may have had an ulterior motive. I didn't understand just how evil they could be until I saw the sign. The Blue Flame~ Bar and Strip Club was done in the usual strip club sign fashion, neon lights and all, but somehow the owner had managed to, again, not make it tacky. I had stopped dead in my tracks. I'm pretty sure I left little smoke clouds from my shoes like in cartoons. Izzy and Clary had then threatened to go in alone and I couldn't have that.
I know they are both capable adult women, who honestly could kick someone's ass if they really wanted to, but I just couldn't get past my protective older brother urges. So, as they turned and started to walk into the club, I half ran, half jogged to keep up with them.
Now I was here and having to sit through a lot of cigarette smoke and "clubby" music. I heard that high giggle again and I turned my attention to a mass of hair. Isabelle and Clary had their heads together and I took a minute to marvel at how their hair looked mixed together. The raven black straight mixed with the fiery red curls had an interesting look and I filed away the picture in my "someday" folder, even though I would never be able to actually use it. My artistic skills would not be appreciated by anyone, especially my father.
Shaking my head to focus again, I tapped the shoulder on the straight black hair side, assuming my sister was under there. I was greeted a second later by Isabelle's bright eyes.
"So do you see anything you like?" Abrupt and to the point, that was my sister.
I did the reasonable thing. I spluttered and blushed. Really what did she expect? I was gay, not desperate.
I managed a "No." after a few seconds and Isabelle turned back towards Clary, creating the curtain of hair again. At this point, I was a little frustrated. Just because I wasn't looking around like a lost puppy didn't mean they couldn't talk to me.
My thunderstorm was stopped short as a speaker spit out, "Alright ladies and gentlemen, be prepared for something special. We will be seeing how many of our guys here tonight will be hoping the fence tonight after this amazing performance of LMFAO's Shots by Magic Magnus." The announcer had dragged out the name and after the second syllable I had my eyes to the ground, just like all the other performances before him. I refused to be caught be the terrible two in front of me checking out a stripper. I didn't have anything against them or what they did; I just didn't think that that would work out to well. Also, what stripper would want a piece of pale me in a "grandpa" sweater? I probably wasn't what they were looking for.
As the music started and I faintly recognized the pumping beat, which had been slowed down, the poking started. You know that annoying constant kind of poking that only younger siblings could manage. I tried to focus on my worn converse but eventually I looked up and said,

"What?!" Isabelle only pointed toward the stage. I decided to appease her and look but what I saw mesmerized me.
A tall man with tan skin was walking up on the stage. He looked like a mirage with the thin layer of glitter covering every inch of his body, from the poured into leather pants to his skinny but slightly muscled chest. A microphone was in one hand and as he started to sing and slowly lost more and more of his pants all I could look at wasn't his body but his eyes.
They were an amazing mix of green and yellow, a unique color in all my 24 years on this earth I couldn't remember seeing before. His almond shaped eyes were lined in a thin layer of kohl black eyeliner and when he blinked I could see the flicker of even more glitter. His whole face, with its somehow soft and angular shape, was beautiful. Apparently I was staring because an excited gasp was made to my left.
"My, my Clary, I do think we have found little innocent Alley Cat's kryptonite. Glitter!" Isabelle's almost black eyes, a far cry from my own bottle glass blue eyes, were twinkling like stars and I could tell that she thoroughly enjoyed picking on me. I didn't enjoy it as much.
By now the man finished performing and as he sashayed off the stage my eyes followed him. His tiny butt clad in leather was doing crazy things to my focus and once I ripped my eyes away from his retreating form, I got the full on school girl giggle treatment from Isabelle and Clary.
I needed air so in a very dramatic fashion; I pushed back my chair and stood up, my six foot 3 inches coming in handy.
Isabelle and Clary quickly stopped their giggling and I turned before my self-satisfied smile could be seen.
As I made my way over to the bar, I swear, every single person stopped right in front of me. Keeping my head down and muttering,

"Sorry excuse me. Please excuse me," I somehow made it to the long expanse of black mahogany.
The bartender expertly mixed multicolored concoctions as I took my seat on a crème stool. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as he twisted, turned, and flipped, amazing the crowd and me. His leather pants looked like a second skin over his long lanky legs and the black graphic t-shirt he was wearing shimmered slightly under the flashing club lights.
Giving him another once over, I couldn't shake the feeling that he looked familiar but from where I didn't know. Well, I didn't know until he turned face to face with me and I was caught in the gaze of a pair of gorgeous green eyes.
"What can I get you?" The low rumble of Magnus's voice did similar things to my focus like his leather clad ass did but I collected myself quicker this time and answered without too much trouble, "A rum and cherry coke. Please." A wicked grin that made me believe he had a wicked sense of humor took over his face before he shook his head, chin length black hair flying, and turned to start mixing my drink. Instantly self-conscious I looked down onto the leaguered surface of the bar to make sure I didn't have anything on my face. I saw nothing in the distorted reflection and I wondered what exactly Magnus was laughing at.
When Magnus turned back with my drink in hand and slid it across to me, I found a small bit of courage and asked,

"What?"
"Oh nothing, darling." I jumped slightly at the endearment but a small smile broke across my face,

"It's just usually people don't say please. It becomes a small miracle because after owning this place," he made a small sweeping gesture around us, "for three years, you don't hear please much." I nodded contemplating how busy he must be. Owner, striper, and bar tender. It was a lot for anyone to handle.
Again I found some small bundle of courage, "You were good up there by the way." I pointed behind me, as if he didn't know what I was talking about. A blush colored my cheeks and heated up my face before I quick snapped my arm down against my side and I took a sip of my drink, trying to hide my embarrassment.
Magnus face formed into that Cheshire cat grin again and he said, "Thank you." He leaned down conspiratorially next to me and whispered into my ear,

"You're the first person to recognize me without all of that."
I was slightly shocked that someone wouldn't recognize Magnus. He was hardly a forgettable person. Before I could say as much Isabelle and Clary popped up at either side of me.
"Oh Alec who's your friend?" Clary's voice was higher than normal and as I looked between the girls at my elbows and Magnus, I saw him shrug, clearly saying, "I told you so."
"Hey Iz, I think that hipster over there is checking you out." I pointed over to a tall guy I had spotted earlier along the far wall. He was not too scary and I figured I could let them have fun with that.
The girls looked at each other before they coolly walked over to the poor guy.
I turned back to Magnus before saying,

"I'm sorry about them. Iz is my sister and Clary is my brother's fiancé, I'm kinda stuck with them." I added a shrug at the end hoping to convince him of my inability to control the pair.
"It's fine." Magnus looked behind me and I swear I saw his eyes light up before he said, "Would you consider working for me?"
I didn't even have to check what he meant. I quickly shook my head,

"Oh no. I could never, besides, who would want to see me strip?"
Magnus's face was dead serious as he said, "I would." A second later he winked and continued saying,

"Here if you change your mind. I have a card."
The rectangle of cardstock that was handed to me was exactly what I had expected a business card of Magnus's would look like. It was done in all black, white, and purple. Glittering violet letters said Magnus Bane ~ High Bartender of Brooklyn on one side and on the other was a phone number.
I looked back up at Magnus only to receive another sultry wink before he turned to another customer and I took another sip of my drink, slipping the card in my pocket.

Alright! R&R! If you guys wanna sheck out Lexia's other stories, that would be great! Tell me what you think, any and all reviews ('cept flames of course) are welcome!