Clary:
The light of the city glistened as Clary slid down to the floor of her beautiful art studio. The room was big, bright, and not hers, just as this city would never be.
Ever since Jocelyn, Clary's mom, was paid millions of dollars for a painting and had become a famous artist, everyone had been treating her like royalty.
Before, Jocelyn Fairchild had been a small painter with big dreams in the Virginia suburbs. Now, the Fairchilds were a well-known family in New York city's social hierarchy and Clary hated it. hated that everywhere she looked, she saw an unfamiliar place where she didn't belong. A place where-despite all the people she had come to know-Clary felt completely alone.
Jace:
Jace was never good enough. He was adopted, and though the Lightwoods loved him like their own, he would always be different. Though he went by the name of Lightwood, he would be heir to the Herondale title when he turned eighteen. Heir to the money and power. Heir to the expectations that had him constantly striving to be the best.
An outsider might say that Jace had everything- money, looks, popularity-But that was mostly because of the walls he had built. He had a loving family, tons of friends and everything he could ever want. But Jace was missing something- something that gnawed a hole in this already tattered heart. Regardless of everything he had, Jace didn't have someone who would understand. Understand the pain and agony that he went through, seeing his father murdered, and staring shocked as the blood soaked his shoes and the tears streaked his face.
No, Jace did not have everything, but sometimes, pretending was the only way to save yourself from the pain in your heart.