Author's Note: Follows 16 POV's, multiple pairings, a lot of stuff going down. Interwoven Plotlines. All human AU. Might become OOC. Possible long chapters. The story is worth it for the ride.
Rated T, may become M (If readers request it)
The Autumn Party
Chapter One
Clary was preparing a painting to be hung when another one falls.
"Ah, shit," Clary mumbles, stopping her work and going to the other wall. Thankfully, the painting was not ruined. The screw just came out from the wall. She goes to the storage room to grab a drill, then makes another hole in the wall. After setting a new screw in, she tries lifting the painting, struggling to do so.
"Need some help," someone says. She sets the painting down and looks behind her, seeing a boy with blond hair and light eyes. She pauses, and he moves forward to take the painting, setting it up on the wall.
"Thanks," she says, and he nods. "What are you doing in here?"
"I thought maybe the place was open. I didn't know work was being done," he says, smiling down at her. Clary takes a deep breath, smiling back.
"Yeah, I'm just volunteering here."
"Oh? How long have you been working here," he asks.
"About two months. I enjoy it. I'm an artist," she says, then bites her tongue. It was strange, to talk to much to a stranger. He nods, looking at the painting.
"Nice. I just thought I'd stop by..." He sighs deeply, sticking his hands in his pockets. Clary nods, looking back at the painting. She was nervous. Socializing had never been her strong point. What was she supposed to say? He breaks the silence. "So, can you go for coffee?"
"Coffee? I'm kind of working right now," she says, and he laughs, nodding.
"Right. Well, I can go out and get one. What do you take?"
"What do I... well, I don't know. A medium double," she says, and he smiles at her and turn for the exit.
"I'll be back soon," he says, and she watches him go.
"What the hell was that," Clary says, and a laugh escapes her. This guy was interested in her? Her? He was cute, too... angelic features, blonde hair and hazel eyes that almost looked gold. He was extremely good looking, and he just wandered in from the street. Interested in her? Clary had to admit, she was interested in him too.
She goes back to the other painting, setting it up on the wall. How would her boss react when she found out that Clary had a man coming here to share coffee for her? No one was even supposed to come in.
"I should have locked the front door," Clary says, but her heart doesn't feel that. Her heart wanted this man to just walk into her life. A funny feeling hits her stomach, and she pushes it down. This man only wanted coffee with her, nothing more.
True to his word, he comes back.
"I got you a large," he says to her, handing over the cup. She takes it, sipping slowly.
"Thanks," she says.
"No problem. So, you say you're an artist," he says, and she nods. "What kind of art do you make?"
"Painting. Drawing. I'm getting more in sculpting," she replies, and he nods back. "Why... I'm sorry, why did you want to buy me..."
"Because you're cute," he says, and she smiles, hiding behind her cup. "It's true. I thought maybe we could get to know each other more."
"Well, what do you want to know," she asks him.
"Are you in school? Where do you work? What do you like," he says, and she shrugs.
"I'm in school, graduating in a month. I work here, for now, but it's not really work, just volunteering. I like art mostly... books are alright. I'm more of an indoor girl," she says, and nods his head, turning to look around the art studio. He crosses the floor to a seat near the exit, sitting down and clasping his hands together as he stares at her. She walks over to him.
"What do you do in school?"
"Well," Clary says slowly, grabbing one of her curls and twisting. "Just work. I'm mostly focusing on art, I want a career in that area."
"Quirky," the boy says, smiling. "Sorry, what's your name again?"
"Clary."
"Nice. I go by Jace. So, can I have your number?" He asks, smiling wider, and she nods, pulling out her phone. He takes his out too.
"689-6574," she says, and he types it in.
"Mine is 673-9076," he says, and she types it in as well. "I'd really like to chat more. I'll leave you to your work now... maybe you can bring me back here when the place is open."
"Will do," she says, and he gets up, turning for the exit. His jacket brushes a sculpture, and it falls to the floor. Clary gasps, but his arm whips out, catching it just in time. He sets it down, looking back to grin sheepishly at her, and Clary finds herself giggling.
"Bye, Jace," she says.
"Bye, Clary."
Raphael Santiago grabs his backpack, opening it to drop in the a bag full of smaller baggies. He puts the bag on, then turns and heads out the apartment he shares with himself.
It was a beautiful day outside, not too warm, not too cool, with wind that breezes softly. He gets into his car, driving down to his client's place. His client requested a delivery from Camille, so now Camille was sending Raphael. It was his job to do this. He wasn't sure if he'd stay in this particular trade forever, but for now, it was offering up a lot of money.
When he gets to the place, he gets out of the car and walks down the street to the apartment. It wasn't too shabby, a nice little place in a nice area. He holds onto the backpack's strap, a little nervous.
The person he was delivering to was in the force. He was an investigator. This man could report Raphael for the drugs he was selling, but he never did. And Raphael was pretty confident he might never.
He crosses the street, thinking in his head about this client, when suddenly he his tugged from the back of his shirt.
"What the-" Raphael starts to say, just as a car goes by. Breathing heavily, Raphael turns around to see who pulled him back.
"Almost go hit there," the man says, standing back. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and glasses on. He almost looked nerdy, like a book person. Raphael nods, hiking his backpack up.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it," the man says, and they cross the street when no cars come. Peculiarly, they walk up to the same apartment, ascending the steps together.
"Do you live here," the man asks.
"No, just making a delivery," Raphael says.
"What kind of delivery?"
"The personal kind."
"Fair enough," the young man says, laughing as he looks Raphael up and down. Raphael lifts his chin up, getting in the elevator. He clicks the number three, and the stranger sighs.
"Same floor," the man says. Raphael nods, and they go up with each other in silence. Once they're on their floor, the walk down the hallway together, both stopping at door three.
"Same place," the man laughs. Raphael knocks on the door, and they wait in silence.
Then the door opens.
"Hey, Valentine," the man next to Raphael pipes up cheerfully. Valentine nods, standing aside.
"Hello, Simon. Raphael."
Simon walks in, and Raphael follows. Valentine closes the door, saying, "Clary will be home soon, Simon, just wait in her room."
"Kay," Simon says, walking down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. Raphael walks into the kitchen, taking off his bag and setting it on the counter.
"Boss made up some really good stuff," Raphael says, opening his backpack. He takes out the large bag, and pulls some smaller bags filled with white power. "How many you want?"
"Three," Valentine says.
"Alright." Raphael hands over three little bags, and Valentine hands over money. Raphael closes his bag and pulls it back on, just as Simon comes back in.
"Hey, you think I could get some water," Simon says, not waiting for Valentine's reply as he goes over the cupboard to grab a cup. Raphael sighs, looking over at Valentine, who has already pocketed the baggies.
"He pretty much saved my life, you know," Raphael says, and Valentine raises his eyebrows. "Outside, nearly got hit by a car. This guy pulled me back."
"Nice of him," Valentine says, and Raphael nods, turning and heading for the door. It was strange for a dealer to make small talk with a client. Raphael leaves the apartment, heading for the elevator, pulling out his phone to look for his next client.
His next deal was at a club run by Magnus Bane.
Magnus Bane owned Edom, a club with a stage for either bands, or dancing. Tonight was going to be Jazz night, which only happened once a month. He sits at a counter, leaning against the table and looking around the room. It was only evening right now, so some people were just starting to walk in. He liked socializing, making new connections, learning new things.
But right now, his attention was on a young man.
He was tall, had some muscle, wearing all black and had dark hair. Just Magnus' type. Magnus order a drink, sipping on it before he walks over to the man.
"Hello, I'm Magnus Bane," Magnus says, setting his glass down. The man straightens up, turning toward him.
"I'm Alec. Alec Lightwood."
"Nice to meet you Alec. I noticed you weren't with anyone," Magnus says. Alec nods, waving the bartender over.
"I'm with my sister, she's at that table over there," Alec says, pointing to a corner. There was a girl and two men, sitting and chatting. Magnus nods, glancing at Alec.
"Nice, nice. So, do you like jazz music, Alec?"
"It's alright I guess. Do you," Alec asks, and Magnus nods.
"Yes. This is actually my club you know."
"Is it? You look rather young," Alec says, and Magnus nods again.
"I'm twenty-two. It was my dream to open up a club, my father generously donated the money for it. So, Alec..." Magnus pauses, running his thumb on the side of his glass. "Do you like men?"
"I... I don't know," Alec says, a soft blush appearing. He looks down, then up when the bartender arrives. "Could I have a beer? Tall?"
"As you wish," the bartender says, nodding at Alec, then nodding at Magnus. Magnus stares at Alec.
"You don't know if you're gay or not?"
"Yeah, I don't know," Alec says, turning to lean on the table, staring down at it. Magnus follows his gaze, staring at the dark blue counter.
"Do you dance, Alec?"
"Badly."
"Want to dance," Magnus asks. Alec shakes his head. Magnus sighs. "Not a people person?"
"You can say that," Alec replies.
"I'm a people person. Come on, biscuit, dance with me," Magnus says, standing up and holding out a hand. Alec stares at it, when suddenly they're interrupted by a young man.
"Hey, Magnus, someone phoned Camille for something," Raphael says. Magnus sighs, staring at the boy he likes to call 'friend'. Raphael regrets that title.
"Well, I wonder who it is. Let's go check out the back. Sorry Alec, duty calls," Magnus says, taking his drink and going behind the bar, to a back room. There is a black couch, which Raphael sits in. Magnus sits in a chair. He was rather fond of the décor he chose himself, there was a lot of blue and purple. The two colours blended well together.
"I don't see anyone here. They must have left," Magnus says. Raphael nods, taking off his backpack. Wearing a backpack with a suit could draw attention, so Magnus didn't understand why the boy chose it. "Can you stay long?"
"I have nowhere else to be. I'll wait," Raphael says. Magnus nods, leaning back in his seat. Raphael opens up his bag, taking out another bag.
"If someone comes in that isn't drug-friendly, we could both get in trouble. You know how I feel about you coming here," Magnus says. Raphael nods.
"Don't act stupid. Only your people come in. We're safe," Raphael says. Magnus nods, crossing his arms, when suddenly one of his singers, Etta, comes in.
"Oh, great, you're here Ralph. Some of my friends are looking for a good time," Etta says, taking out some money. Raphael counts it, then hands over some small baggies, which Etta takes. She winks at Magnus, "See you, Magnus."
"Bye, Etta," Magnus sighs, watching her go. He looks at Raphael. "That's it for our time, I suppose."
"It is. I'm just going to take a moment to check my messages," Raphael says as he pulls out his phone. Magnus nods, then pulls out his phone, deciding to make a few phone calls himself. He phones Camille first, figuring he can ask her to stop sending drug dealers to his club. Her voice mail comes on, so he makes a different phone call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, it's Magnus," he says. "Can you get a message to Camille to stop sending dealers over to my club? I don't need a bad reputation."
"I'll have a word with her about it. Anything else?"
"Not really, no."
"Bye Magnus."
His father hangs up, and Magnus puts his phone away. His father had a way of being curt. Unless, of course, he was trying to get something he really wanted, then he could turn on his charm. Magnus sighs, standing up and heading for the door.
"Raphael, I'm going away now. Spend as much time here as you need," Magnus says. Raphael doesn't answer him, so Magnus keeps on walking to the bar, looking around for his new blue eyed friend. Except now, he was sitting at a table with the woman that was his sister, and they all seemed to be having a lovely time. Not wanting to interrupt, Magnus sits at the bar alone and finishes his drink, soon ordering another one.
Feeling ecstatic over his team just winning another game, Jonathan drives over to his parent's apartment. He gets a text, stopping at a red light to answer.
Where are you? It was from Isabelle. Jonathan is quick to reply.
Heading to my parents. Where are you?
Drinking with some photographers. Can you hang out tonight?
Maybe another night, he replies to her, putting his phone away and driving off. He liked Isabelle, he really did, but it had been a few weeks since he had checked up on his parents. In quick time, he's back at his old home, parking his car and climbing out. The wind was picking up, and the air was chillier now. Crossing his arms, he walks up the front steps and goes inside, taking the elevator up.
He knocks on the door when he arrives.
"Jonathan, hello," his mother, Jocelyn, says as he walks in. They hug, and she steps back, clasping her hands and smiling up at him. "We weren't expecting you."
"I know. I have a present for Clary, where is she?"
"Finishing her supper. She's eating late today, she was busy on the phone talking to a boy," his mother says, turning and leading the way to the kitchen.
"Where's dad," Jonathan asks. He now had problems talking to his father, ever since he found out about a certain problem.
"The study. He's working on some papers," Jocelyn says. Jonathan remembers being in the study once, and only once. It is new, it used to be Jonathan's old room. But now his parents used it as an office and art studio. Jonathan goes the fridge and grabs the orange juice.
"So, Clary and a boy," Jonathan says, pouring a glass. His mother nods, standing aside with her arms crosses. He smiles at her. "Have you met him?"
"No, they just met today. What did you bring her?" His mother asks. Jonathan reaches into his jacket's deep pockets and pulls out package.
"Brushes. They're small, and have tiny tips. I thought she could use those kind," he says, and his mother nods. Sipping his orange juice, he walks past her. "I'll be back in a moment, I'm just going to check on Clary."
He walks down the hallway to his sister's room, knocking on the door. He can hear her quietly say come in, and he goes in. She grins widely, making his heart light up.
"Jonathan! You're here!"
"I am. I bought you a gift," he says, holding out his hand that has the package. She takes it from him, staring through the plastic at the brushes.
"That's nice, Jonathan. I can use these ones for details," she says while standing up, walking over to her desk and setting them down with other brushes. She takes a seat in her chair, and he sits down on her bed. "So, what have you been up to Jonathan?"
"Nothing much, Clare-bear. Mom told me you were talking to a guy," he says, and she smiles widely.
"Yes, a new guy! I met him today, he bought me coffee. He's handsome," she says. Jonathan can see her smile shy, the way her eye were glowing when she talked about this boy. Jonathan nods, pulling out a cigarette. He just hopes she doesn't run into trouble.
"Mind if I have one in here, Clary?"
"Go ahead," she says, and he lights a smoke. He takes a few drags, thinking thoroughly.
"So, do you know much about him? What he does, what he likes, what his family is like," Jonathan asks. Clary nods her head.
"I asked him on the phone. He likes sports, having fun, going on adventures. He's an only child who lives with his grandmother," she replies, looking down. The smile doesn't move from her face. Jonathan nods, taking another long drag.
"Well, if you ever need me to kick his ass, I happily will."
"Jonathan!"
"I'm just kidding, Clary. I should go check up on dad," he says, and Clary nods. Jonathan stands up and heads to the hallway, going to the room at the end and knocking. His father says come in, so he does, finding Valentine sitting behind a desk covered in papers. Jonathan takes a seat in a second chair, taking another drag.
"You know how I feel about smoking, Jonathan," his father says. Jonathan nods, taking another drag.
"I just wanted to ask how you're doing."
"I'm doing fine," Valentine answers. No words are spoken for a minute. Valentine writes, Jonathan stays sitting. The boy contemplates asking his father about his drug problem... no, that could be avoided for now. Everyone would find out the truth eventually.
"That's great. Well, I'm going to see mom now," Jonathan says, standing up and going to the kitchen. His relationship with his father wasn't exactly stressed, just void of emotion. His relationship was his mother was maybe a bit stressed, only since Jocelyn always wanted to baby him. And Clary, well, he and Clary got along just fine. More than fine, really. Jonathan was always happy to see his little sister do well.
In the kitchen, he sits down at the island. His mother pushes a plate across the counter.
"I got you something to eat," she says. Jonathan gratefully accepts the plate of lasagna, immediately tearing it up.
It was nice to visit home.