Chapter One: Rising Tide
Songs:
We're Going to be Friends: The White Stripes (Clary/Izzy/Alec/Robert/Valentine)
Clique: Kanye West, Jay Z, Big Sean (Clary/Izzy/Alec/Sebastian)
The first thing Clary noticed was the well. There was a legend about the well in the garden, but she'd never believed it. After all, legends were legends, right? There was always something so intriguing about Manhattan's own private garden, not that she'd ever been before tonight. She touched the ring with the beautiful pattern of stars that hung around a chain on her neck. It was cold against the bare skin of her chest, revealed by the swooped neckline of her pale green dress.
Her mom was busy discussing business with a man, and he was pointing avidly at her paintings. Clary wandered over to her father, who was talking to a tall, bald man and swinging a thin champagne glass in his hands.
"Ah, Robert. You've heard about my daughter, correct? Clarissa, this it Robert Lightwood, the CEO of a large law firm" Valentine said. He had a way of making himself sound smooth and melodic when he wanted to impress people, and apparently this Robert Lightwood was to be impressed. He offered Clary his hand, and she took it, shaking it.
"Hello, Clarissa" he greeted.
"Mr. Lightwood" she said with a dip of her head, something her mother had nailed into her when she was young.
"I'm sure your daughter would enjoy the company of my children" Robert suggested, and Valentine nodded. His talk with this famous Robert was going well, she supposed. Robert turned his head and called out two names, and two kids, one looking her age and one looking just a bit older. They both had black hair, but the girl had dark brown eyes, whereas the boy had striking blue ones.
"Clarissa, this is Isabelle," Robert announced, gesturing to his daughter. "And this is Alexander," he concluded, gesturing to the boy. "Children, this is Clarissa Morgenstern, Valentine's daughter."
Isabelle smiled. She was beautiful and sharp in ways that her brother wasn't. She was wearing a long, black, sequin-covered gown that clung to her very apparent curves and made her look like a lounge singer. Well, that and her matte red lips and the large rube pendant that hung from around her neck. Isabelle extended her hand, her fingers nimble and her nails done beautifully. Clary shook her hand.
"It's so nice to meet you" Isabelle purred. Her voice was like velvet, and it sounded like silk and sandpaper all at once. Alexander stood uncomfortably next to Isabelle.
"It's nice to meet you, as well" Clary sighed. No matter how hard her mother tried, she would never be the way Isabelle was, the way she carried herself and spoke was exactly what her mother wanted. Instead, Clary was blessed with a squeaky voice, unruly red hair, no curves, and a short, petite body.
"Why don't we go make sure Sebastian hasn't run away from us yet?" Alexander suggested. Isabelle nodded, and she glanced at Clary.
"Clarissa? Would you like to join us?" Isabelle offered. Clary looked at her father, who was completely emerged in his conversation with Robert. She turned back to Isabelle and nodded. Isabelle led her and Alexander away from the adults and towards the back of the well.
"Oh, god. I hate acting like that" Isabelle groaned. Her voice was no longer velvety, but it was that of a bored and average teenage girls. She didn't carry herself the same; she slouched a bit and walked differently in her heels. Alexander seemed to relax more.
"You're good at it, though. My mom's been trying to get me to be that perfect since the day I came out of the womb" Clary sighed. Isabelle laughed, and Clary though maybe the emotionless Alexander cracked a tiny smile.
"It's one of the perks of being a kid of rich parents" Isabelle said with a shrug of the shoulders. Clary nodded. She knew exactly what Isabelle meant.
"You can call me Izzy, and you can call my brother Alec" Isabelle- Izzy- announced. Clary nodded.
"You can call me Clary. Clarissa is sort of a mouthful" Clary sighed.
"So is Alexander" Alec said. It was the first sentence she'd heard him say all night, though she hadn't been with them long. He sounded the way he looked, sad and angsty.
"Here we are," Izzy said, gesturing to the separate part of the garden. Teenagers crowded the area, empty champagne glasses littering the only empty places to sit. "The rich kids hangout of the rich parents hangout." Her description made absolutely no sense, but Clary understood, still. Teens in glittery dresses and freshly-pressed suits were hanging in groups. A boy with pitch black hair approached them and wrapped his arm around Izzy's waist, pulling her close.
"Sebastian, this is Clary Morgenstern" Izzy introduced. Sebastian gave her a smile.
"I know your older brother" he pointed out.
"Oh, Jonathan? Funny, he's never mentioned you" Clary said the way you would when you found out new surprising information.
"We're just mutual friends" Sebastian mumbled with a shrug of his shoulders. Clary nodded, awkwardly glancing away from Sebastian. She could feel his eyes watching her as she scanned the crowd. None of them were very familiar, but there were a few faces she'd seen before but whose names she'd forgotten. Her eyes scanned over an angry looking blonde boy in an oversized suit with a tie slung around his neck, a full champagne glass in his left hand and his right arm slung around a blonde girl wearing a tight red dress with a slit up the leg. He was watching her, his golden eyes looking at the glint of the ring that hung on her chest. The blonde girl he was with snapped her fingers in front of his face a few times, glared at Clary, and pulled his face towards hers, pressing her bright pink lips to his. Clary looked away, her orange-red curls hitting her face.
Sebastian and Izzy were emerged in conversation, and Alec was half-watching a tall half-asian boy with dark hair and a sparkly scarf wrapped around his neck and half-watching his sister.
"So, Alec," Clary started, feeling a bit guilty as he snapped his head away from the boy he was watching. "What college are you thinking about going to?"
Alec smiled at the question. "Something local. My parents really want me to go to Berkeley, but it's all the way across the states, and- Well, I just don't want to. I'm leaning towards NYU, but if I ever told them that, they'd kill me" he finished with a shrug.
"They wouldn't kill you" Clary sighed, but Alec shook his head.
"They might. I haven't heard of a Lightwood who didn't go to Berkley" he explained.
"Maybe they're just not telling you?" Clary offered. She'd only just met Alec, and she felt bad for him. He seemed troubled, wanting to do what his parents wanted but not really wanting to at the same time. He tugged at the sleeves of his jacket.
"I doubt it. Great great great grandparents, all went to Berkeley. That might have just been because they all lived in California, though" Alec joked.
"Did your parents live in California?" Clary asked. The Lightwoods were a mysterious family, she had to admit. They looked perfect, but they seemed completely out of it. The kids did, at least. But that was common, wasn't it? If the parents were rich, strict, and overbearing, then the kids weren't likely to turn out that way.
"Yeah. We just moved to New York a few months ago" Alec said. Clary shrugged.
"What school does Izzy go to?" Clary asked. Alec smiled.
"Calhoun" Alec said, almost sounding bitter. Clary understood. Calhoun was tough, and it was expensive. She'd wanted to go, but art could only get you so far. She'd tried the piano, but there was no way it was happening. She'd gone through instrument after instrument, violin to cello to harp, but nothing would get her a scholarship to the damn school. Not even academic scholarships. She'd settled for St. Xavier's. At least they appreciated her art, though she still had to take lessons for her current instrument, which happened to be the piano.
"Oh. I go to St. Xavier's" Clary sighed. Alec shrugged.
"Don't tell her I told you this, but she'd doing terrible in most of her classes. Our parents want to switch her to Regent or Brearley, something that's less money, because they don't think she's worth the money" he whispered. Clary was shocked. Yeah, Calhoun was expensive, but it was amazing, and everyone who got in was worth it. They didn't let people in just because of the money. It was a long test of how good your past grades were and what you brought to the table. At least St. Xavier's was more relaxed.
"That's awful," Clary gasped. Alec nodded. "i'm sure they didn't mean it."
"They say it all the time. In my opinion, she just needs to stay away from her damn boyfriend" Alec growled. It was evident he didn't enjoy the Sebastian boy who was wrapped around Izzy at the moment. He shot him a quick but furious glance, then turned back to Clary.
"He seems nice" Clary sighed with a shrug. The sky was darkening, and her arms were prickled with gooseflesh. At some point, she'd taken a champagne glass, but it was still full, and it looked flat. She lifted it to her lips and took a swig. It wasn't flat, so much as cheap-tasting. She cringed.
"It's not real champagne. Some drug store crap" Alec elaborated when he saw Clary's sour expression. She set the glass down.
"I can tell. My god, how do they drink it?" she asked, swallowing the bitter and flat drink and cringing some more.
"They drug it. Spike their own drinks. I think the logic is that it helps them drink the champagne and forget about whatever daddy issues they've got" Alec sighed, his eyes sneaking back over to the boy in the sparkly scarf who he'd been looking at earlier. The boy was handing what looked like a sugar packet to a stick-thin girl with an overly-large breast in a nearly see-through purple lace dress. She moved her fine, blonde hair aside and brought her blood red lips to the boy's neck. Alec went rigid and turned his head away. Clary pretended she didn't notice anything, and she ran her eyes around the crowd again.
Everyone fit into their clothes. They all looked regal and like they belonged, but Clary felt so out of place. She knew her dress made her look curvy, even though she wasn't. She knew the low neckline looked good, but she had no boobs, so what was the point. Her grandfather's ring around her neck was only so that the attention would be drawn away from her lack of anything woman-like. Her heels added maybe two more inches to her twelve-year-old height, and her hair was straightened, but she could feel it frizzing.
Izzy tapped her shoulder. "It's a Friday, right?"
Clary nodded.
"We're all going to Pandemonium later. You want to come?" Izzy asked. Clary glanced behind her for no reason other than to make sure her father wasn't lurking, which he wasn't.
"Definitely" Clary said with a smile.
"Great! So do you want to exchange numbers, and you can text me your address? We'll probably pick you up at ten" Izzy explained. Clary nodded and handed Izzy her phone so she could put the numbers in. It was only seven thirty, and the sun was gone completely. Clary smiled to herself awkwardly. Izzy handed Clary's phone back to her and smiled.
"Don't dress nice. Dress for him" she said, winking and pointing in the direction of a boy with rumpled brown hair and a holy shirt underneath his suit jacket. He winked at Clary, and she felt her cheeks flush. She turned away from the boy and smiled cheekily at Izzy, who gave her an all-knowing smile back.
.o.0.o
"Bullshit. All of it" Jace said, slamming his hand onto the table. Hodge jumped back in surprise. Jace was never usually this loud, or this violent.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Jace" Hodge said, his voice wavering. Hodge had been living with the Wetlands for nearly three years now. He was his father's best friend, and he had no where else to go. He easily turned himself into a business man and worked as Michael Wayland's personal assistant at the publishing company Jace's father owned.
"I'm sure you didn't, Hodge. But You can't really be serious?" Jace asked, bit calmer, pointing to the giant creme file with a giant red stamp on the front. Denied. All of his hard work, and for this?
"You know it's not my call, Jace" Hodge sighed. Jace nodded, picking up the file that held the manuscript he'd been working on for years. This was the tenth time it was rejected.
"But don't you at least have a say in it?" Jace asked. Hodge shook his head, his face covered in half-sympathetic regret.
"I wish I did. Your work is absolutely amazing. Maybe you should…" Hodge trailed off. Jace shook his head.
"'Maybe I should' what? What were you going to say, Hodge?" Jace asked. Hodge sighed and swallowed.
"Maybe you should try a different publisher?" Hodge offered. Jace scowled.
"No. As much as I want to, no. If I do that, my dad will never forgive me" Jace said finally, and turned away, stalking up the stairs to his bedroom. He swung open the door, meaning to flop onto his bed, but stopped.
A halo of fair hair shone under the lights of his room. Kaelie Whitewillow. She smirked at Jace, then at her discarded sparkly red dress. Jace held back a cringe. He didn't like messes, especially those made by infuriating girls who were amazing in bed. Those messes were the hardest to clean up. She frowned when she saw his sour expression.
"What's wrong, baby?" she slurred. He knew she wasn't drunk. She was high, she'd spiked her champagne at The Garden.
"Nothing," Jace growled, tossing his manuscript onto his desk. "My dad's just being a huge asshole again, and Hodge won't help me."
Kaelie smiled. " I have the perfect solution" she whispered, grabbing the collar of Jace's dress shirt and pulling him close.
"And what's that?" he asked. He knew what it would be. Pandemonium, where she could look perfect among those who she called 'mere mortals'. It never bothered Jace that she just wanted him to sleep with and show off. He didn't want much to do with her, either. She was pretty, and she was sometimes fun to be around.
"Let's go to Pandemonium. I haven't been since last month" she purred. Jace held back a laugh. It was September first, a Friday. She'd gone last week, bringing him along with her, of course. Jace knew he couldn't say no. If he did, he'd never live it down. Endless whining. Endless complaining.
"Fine" Jace sighed, pulling away from Kaelie. Her perfume was nauseating. She frowned at him and walked over to his desk. Her thin hands wrapped around his manuscript.
"You're still trying with this? Jace, it's not good. You're manuscript is terrible. You're not a good writer" Kaelie murmured. Jace paused and turned to Kaelie.
"Get dressed and get out of my house" he said abruptly. Kaelie looked at him, shocked.
"You don't mean that, Jace" she sighed and stepped towards Jace. He shifted back.
"Yes, I do. Take your dress and get out" he said, his voice steady. Kaelie bent to pick up her dress and slipped into it.
"You're such a crybaby, Jace. 'Oh no, my daddy didn't accept my manuscript'," she zipped her dress up and turned to him. "Or was it that red head at The Gardens? Because, darling, she's not legal. Did you really see her? Or were you looking at that slutty dress she was in?" Jace snorted.
"Kaelie, this has nothing to do with my manuscript or anyone else. Get out" he ordered, pointing towards his bedroom door.
"You don't have to be so sore about everything, Jace" she sneered, storming out of his room and shutting the door behind her, not to quietly.
Jace locked his door and flopped back onto his bed, his manuscript in his hand. He knew it was missing something. It was supposed to be about finding yourself, but how was he supposed to make his character- a figment of his imagination- find himself when he couldn't even find a tiny piece of himself, dammit. He flipped open the manilla folder and took the wrinkled pages out. The men had ripped his dream apart and hadn't even had the curtesy of leaving the paper nice. They hadn't even given him pointers for the inevitable next time his manuscript made it into their office. Bastards, the whole lot of them.
His phone vibrated on the nightstand. With a tired hand, he reached out and grabbed it, bringing it to his ear and answering, not bothering to check who it was calling him.
"Hello?" he muttered. There was a familiar laugh on the other end of the line.
"What do you want, Isabelle?" he grunted. More laughter.
"I got an angry text from Kaelie. She said you weren't going to Pandemonium with her, so she wasn't going to go. But Alec and I are going, and he wanted to see if you wanted to come" Izzy elaborated. Jace sighed inwardly. Everyone was always trying to get him to go out. He had college applications to fill out, homework to do, and his manuscript to slave over.
"If not, I'm sure Alec will be fine, but he's pretty upset and he won't talk about it with me, and I can't guess what it is. He'll probably talk to you, though" Izzy rushed out, and Jace realized he hadn't said anything.
"No, it's fine. I'll go" he said, sitting up and leaning his torso forwards. He heard the dull tone of Izzy's voice shift into a happier one.
"Good," she squealed. "We'll pick you up soon, okay? We've just got to pick up my friend first."
"Sebastian?" Jace offered. He knew Verlac pretty well. He was an intern at his father's company, and he felt like rubbing it in Jace's face each day. Of course it was harder for Jace to work there. Michael wouldn't have people thinking he favored his kid, and he'd told Jace just as much.
"No. Sebastian has 'business' he needs to obtain to" Izzy sneered. Jace wanted to ask who this new friend of Izzy's was; she wasn't exactly the friendliest person, but Izzy rushed out a fast goodbye and hung up, leaving Jace sitting with his phone to his ear and a dead line on the other end.