A/N: This was inspired by blacknails512, when I was reading Changes.
Other that, I believe the rating M isn't yet necessary, but I need it for the future. This is is more than slightly angst, so you have been warned.
Anyway, this is Malec. Because I totally ship this pairing.
Oh unsurprisingly, I don't own anything but the plot.
Alec sighs, pushing his sunglasses higher up on his nose. His first day in New York, his first day on his way to a shiny new boarding school. His first day being so separated from his family, his first day to try and forget the incident that caused him to be shipped out to New York. His first day in a brand new Hell.
He impassively stares at the scenery as the cab trudges down the roads, taking him to Idris Boarding School. The sun is bright overhead, almost as if it's mocking him. Mocking him with its cheerfulness, mocking him with its ability to forget everything unsettling and just shine. Mocking him with its attention hogging ways. Mocking him because it reminds him of the siblings he can no longer be with, siblings he can no longer even consider siblings. It's their fault he's here, their fault he's alone in a new state and a new home and its their fault that his thoughts have become so cynical. It's partially their fault, actually, because his parents certainly did play a rather tectonic role in the incident.
But Alec doesn't want to talk about it, hell, he doesn't even want to think about it. Doesn't want to think about the sneers and bruises, the pain and misery and Hell, he said he didn't want to think about it. Why is he thinking about it? It's not as if he can control his thought process, exactly, but he should know better than to think of things that cause his heart to clench and draw up painful memories. he should be able to handle the memories, though. He should be strong enough to not feel despair swirling up inside him when he thinks about what he did, and what they did in response. He shouldn't be so damn weak.
He can't stand being weak. He's going to get stronger, though. He's already begun, he's cut everyone who so much as attempted to strike up a mundane conversation off with a curt glare a given off the hint heavily that no, he doesn't want to fucking talk. Why would he want to talk? He doesn't want to talk. So why would he? Everyone should just mind their own business and stay the fuck away from him. It would make the world just that much better if he kept his personal opinions, well, personal. Why do all those people try to talk to him, he obviously radiates apathy. Fucking idiots.
Alec has reasons to hate the world, same as every teenager except possibly more extreme, but he certainly doesn't plan on sharing with anyone any time soon. Or ever. He's locked up inside and he's long since discarded the unnecessary key. Keys aren't useful if they're never going to be used, after all. And Alec hates useless things. Might be a bit why he hates himself so much. He's certainly not useful, not normal and not 'acceptable', as his parents said when they found out. They then proceeded to do things Alec would never consider acceptable, but they warped that word to suit their own purposes. Besides, they got their perfect socialite children in the forms of Jace and Isabelle, Alec's siblings. Isabelle related to him by blood, Jace adopted, but neither of them of any importance to him. Not anymore.
But Alec is looking forward to one thing. His baby brother, Max. The boy was shipped off to New York when his obsession with manga and video games became too much for Alec's parents to handle. He hasn't seen Max in nearly a year, and they can hang out on the week ends now. Alec can remember his brother being more comfortable with abnormality than the rest of his family, but being with the boy may be difficult. Being with anyone has always been difficult for Alec, but more so since the incident. But Alec will still hide in his dark colored hoodie, keep all of his secrets locked up within the folds of the fabric. It's one of his favorite band sweaters, and while it's thin layered and too big Alec can't wear enough of it.
It's black, of course, and goes just past the pockets on his straight fit black jeans. There's one pocket in the front, and it's not a zip or button up, and the fabric doesn't start high enough to hide most of his pale shoulders but still the sleeves reach past his wrists, with thumb holes cut out along the seam that he has to twist the clothing to get into. On the front is a demonic looking skull, and it's almost grinning at him, with something resembling devil's wings sprouting from just above where the ears would be if skulls have ears. It's caught in a grey spiderweb that has a nearly violent and somehow reserved purple shading in between the lines of the web. There are three smaller skulls also stuck in the web, all of them looking absolutely malevolent.
He loves the thing, he loves it so much. he loves everything it stands for, the music it represents. Avenged Sevenfold is the band, the garment says it clearly itself. He loves all the music on two of their albums, their self title and Nightmare. He plays both of the albums on repeat all the time, loving the undisguised hatred and the sort of evil you can hear in the lyrics and tone. It's an almost taunting tne, and Alec loves the way the music pushes and pulls at his heart. It's one of the most real things Alec has ever listened to. It's one of the reasons he got shipped out here, but since the incident, he hasn't been able to fucking stop listening to music, and Avenged Sevenfold is one of the bands that just holds him captivated and craving more. One of the bands that make him feel it's alright to be angry, make him feel like he's not alone. Make him feel alive, like he's got a breather while he drowns.
He wonders, briefly, if Max will like the band. it doesn't really matter to him, because it's not going to change his opinion of the music, he just wonders how accepting Max will be of him. Max never heard about the incident, or what caused it. But no one ever heard of the incident outside of the picture perfect family that sent him to an unfamiliar place with unclean thoughts and the undeniable feeling of being irreparably dirty. Alec can blame his family, blame them for hating everything he likes, blame them for hating what he is. But he is what he is, and even if he hides it that's not going to change. If there's one thing he's picked up from the music he's been listening to for the past year, it's that you get nothing good from being someone you're not. It really is too bad that the socialites of his family couldn't handle the fact that he began to refuse going to Aberzombie, quit the sports teams they forced on him and chose skinny jeans and music over all of that.
He chose to keep it ugly.
It was, apparently, the wrong choice. It partially led to the incident. It led to Alec's life unraveling, it led to the hate that now covers his eyes in a smooth gloss. A hate that accents the beautiful blue but doesn't highlight it, not in a welcoming and pleasant or even relatively nice way. It's alluring, it's drawing people into his mystery but he doesn't even notice it. He doesn't care, either. He doesn't want to be loved, not really. He can't want to be loved. He used to think he wanted his parents to love him, and maybe they did for a while. But his home was an empty shell, and as long as appearances were kept up you could be a fucking prostitute for all Alec's parents care. Isabelle practically was one, sleeping with a different man every night. Except she didn't get paid, and Alec was the only one who worried about her. Their parents didn't care as long as they didn't have a baby, or an abortion, on their hands. Everything for public eyes..
But as soon as your public facade breaks, or you discard it like Alec, you really discover how awful people can be. Alec stopped worrying about Isabelle openly, and eventually stopped caring, because she made it very clear that his concern for her well being was unwelcome. And Alec stopped believing in love when his father shot him down, when his father... when the incident happened. The incident taught Alec many things, and however painful the memories, they are valuable experiences and useful knowledge. Allen took the most important parts to heart, and disregarded the ones concerning mundane things that he had long since stopped caring if anyone approved of. He was taught valuable life lessons, ones he would not soon forget.
Alec was shipped here, New York, for one reason and he knew exactly what it was. He won't go into details, but there were too many things wrong with him. But Hell, he would rather live in pain than feel numb and his parents had decided to have him live in pain. Or more like commanded him, condemned him. So the crown of the perfect older son slipped off of Alec's head, well, was shoved off rather forcefully, and that crown fell right to Jace. And Jace is the golden boy, never one to disappoint. You can see them and tell that Jace should be the one in the spotlight, anyway. He's confident, has a broad chest and is more than well defined and completed with a not over the top tan. He's not too bulky but not too skinny, the kind of American boy everyone wants. Alec is pale, has piercing blue eyes and dark black hair, small shoulders but still definition. There's the faint trace of a six pack on him, but nothing too pronounced. He's just the one switching the lights on and off as Jace takes center stage anyway, so he really doesn't have much to worry about. It's just official, now.
Alec isn't unhappy about being shipped off across the country, exactly. He's just going to be hated by a new group of people. At least with these people they're not actually supposed to love him in any way, so maybe it's better. Same shit different pile, as the saying goes. He's not unhappy with the change; he's just unhappy. But that's just another thing that lives within the folds of his sweater, another thing he stomps over in his black leather combat boots. Another thing he just has to live with, another thing he deals with on his own. And he wants to be on his own, he doesn't want anything like the incident to ever happen again. Alec doesn't know if he could cope if the incident were to repeat itself, and he's not going to take chances. Life isn't about putting yourself in dangerous situations, it's about surviving and according to his parents, settling down and finding a nice, orange girl to mate with in a white picket fence house.
Alec chuckles at how useless he'd be at that, but thinking about how useless he is and how much he hates uselessness stops whatever bitter laughter he was displaying. He needs to be stronger, he can no longer remain weak. When the incident happened, he cried for a near day. He screamed, begged it to stop and disappear. But it didn't. Alec wasn't strong enough to stop it. And weakness and uselessness are of similar kin. Alec isn't like some people, who know they're weak and chose to do nothing about it. If he's weak he's going to try and fix it. He's already improved. He hasn't gotten into stupid conversations, he hasn't told anyone how he feels about anything since just after the incident. He closed out the one friend who he had through his change from an Aberzombie shopper to a Hot Topic worshipper.
But it was okay, Alec was getting stronger.
Magnus moans, flopping onto his bed rather ungracefully. Magnus is among the high ranking officers in the caste system at Idris Boarding School, and had up until now been perfectly satisfied with his life. His best friend, Camille, in all her beautiful blonde glory siting gracefully with her ankles crossed off the bed prettily and perfectly is always around, being popular, and all the glitter he fucking wore around the school like the place was his bitch made him want to strut around in a fabulous hat. But today, today is not a day for celebration.
"Magnus, it's not the end of the world." Camille said in her methodically melodic voice, patting his arm. "You'll live. It's awful, I know, but there's nothing we can do about it."
"No! it's the end of the world, Camille! you don't understand. Before this I could do whatever I wanted in this room, call it my own, wake up and go to sleep whenever I want. But not anymore." Magnus whines, and Camille can't really hear him through he bedsheets but knows her friend well enough to know his complaints by heart. Or at least the gist of them.
"Honey, I've had a roommate all year. You've had one for the past two years. Besides, we only have six months left in the school year. Maybe next year you won't have to share." She comforted her distressed and glittered friend. She's used to him being a drama queen, she's quite one herself, and maybe if she flashes shiny things like the possibilities for next year he'll forget, forget that the great Magnus Bane has been assigned a roommate, one the duo knows nothing about. They usually know something about new students before they arrived, but this kid had been sent in the middle of the second week of third term, and was going to be arriving in the next couple of hours. They had only just heard the news themselves, thus gossip wasn't spread yet and there weren't any rumors to know. Simply horrendous. What is the world coming to?
Magnus sighs. "Fine. Help me clean up, though. Please."
Camille herself sighs, looking around the room. Magnus had kind of taken over both halves of the room, covering the extra bed in various clothes and outfits. "Hm... Okay. Why don't you clan off the dresser they gave him while I put some of the clothes on his bed in the closet? He probably won't mind, like most of the boys in this school about fashion or having more than three pairs of pants. Sadly."
Magnus nods, and they get to work.
Magnus shooed Camille out of his room after the cleaning (thank God she helped, otherwise he never would have finished.), intent on touching up his outfit and make up. He did, after all, want to make a first impression. So Magnus did a once over of himself in the mirror- slightly spiked black hair with dark purple and turquoise glitter shimmering in the gel, darkly lined eyes in black with an accent of dark purple eyeshadow. His lips were a pale pink, juicy and perfectly kissable against his honey skin. A dark purple button up shirt rolled up just past his elbows, a light lather of green and purple glitter on them. A waistcoat covers the buttons on his button up, a black thing with thin vertical stripes of the blue-green and same color buttons that match some of his glitter, complete with black skinnies and green blue converse to match the rest of his outfit. And yes, it is extremely hot. There is a reason Magnus is among the royalty of the school.
Magnus straightens out his shirt and fixes up some smudges of his make up and waits for his roommate to appear. And waits. And waits and waits. Magnus isn't very good with waiting, but he tries to shrug it off. He picks up a copy of some fashion magazine he likes, but can only barely pay attention. He hates to admit it, but he's a bit nervous. The new kid might be a jock that is allergic to glitter and enjoys beating on more effeminate teens like Magnus. The new teen doesn't know the rules, doesn't know Magnus is fucking on top of the food chain. What if his sassy remarks and obviousness at being a flamer cause punches to fly? New boy will wish himself dead after two days, sure, but getting beat up still sucks. Luckily it's only happened once, and Magnus can't stress how much he really doesn't want it to happen again.
Finally, after what seems like hours of waiting, Magnus hears a faint knock on the door. The thing swings open shortly after the knock, and a black suitcase is lugged into the room by a pale hand. The boy turns to shut the door behind him, and Magnus catches sight of midnight strands of hair. The teen turns around and Magnus catches full sight of him. The thin but muscular chest, straight fit but still sexy jeans, boots hidden under the jeans. Sunglasses over the boy's eyes, but full lips and nice, creamy shoulders. Fuck. He's hot.
Magnus, never one to be silent, leaps up to greet his guest. "Hi! I'm Magnus, your new roommate." Magnus offers his hand for shaking, and the teen studies him in all of his glittery glory for a moment before pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head revealing the prettiest sharp blue eyes Magnus has ever seen, and he grasps Magnus' offered hand firmly. Magnus can't help but admire the firm grip, and isn't even too disgusted by the chewed on nails.
"Alec." Alec says, and lets go of the hand of his new roommate. The stranger is undeniably strange, and good looking. Alec would probably like that if it were relevant or useful. But it's not, so he takes little note. Or at least he tries not to. Magnus is friendly, smiling at Alec. But he's observant, and notices the glint of hate Alec gives for the smile. He falls silent as his smile falls.
There's an awkward silence in which Alec sets down his checkered backpack on what he assumes is his bed and opens up his suitcase, filling up the empty dresser with his black and gray shirts and pants, a pair or two of boxers but mainly briefs and socks. Magnus just watches awkwardly. He's not used to awkwardness, and he's not sure what the glint of hate was about.
"So..." Magnus starts.
"What?" Alec snaps, his back to his roommate as he unpacks. It's getting on his nerves, the way his roommate is observing him, making judgements about his appearance.
Magnus looks defensive. "Hey, no need to be mad at me. I didn't do anything to you."
Alec shrugs. "It doesn't matter. I'm not interested in being associated you, so could you just leave me alone?"
Magnus frowns. "Hey, I know it' not what you're used to. You obviously come from a wealthy family and are new to the whole boarding school, I assume, but that doesn't mean you get to be a dick."
Alec sighs. "I said to leave me alone."
Magnus puts his hands on his hips. "What, do you have a problem with me? You afraid to touch the nasty homo?"
Alec sighs. "What part of leave me alone don't you fucking get?"
"That's it, isn't it? You're a homophobe." Magnus declares, eying the teen with a scowl.
"What I am or am not is irrelevant."
Magnus raises his eyebrows, fully ready to go on a rampage. "What, the fuck? How isn't it relevant, when I'm gay and you're a douche? Is there another explanation?"
Alec turns abruptly to Magnus, looking at him with sharp eyes. "Yes."
The look stops Magnus' thoughts of going on a rage in mere seconds, something of a record. The look is so cold, but it's not a look of hate directed towards Magnus. It's directed to something Magnus can't quite place, and the eyes are so sharp they could cut. There's something fucked up about this kid, and if that look can tell Magnus one thing it's not that the teen is a homophobe, he's just a dick.
And he wonders how his roommate ended up like he did.
