Hi, guys! I've been away for too long and I'm sorry for not updating Fais Voir. Things became pretty hectic and because I haven't had the chance to write anything for the story in such a long time, I was kind of lost and as for now, it's on hiatus. Anyway, I'm on a break from uni, so now I have more time to write. I missed writing fanfics so much. :)

I wanted to write something light, fun, and fluffy so here it goes. Another thing, this story is not going to contain lots of chapters, maybe 15 chaps max. Updates will be every other day.

Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns TMI.

Just the Thought of It

Chapter 1 – Writer's Block

I was always easily drawn to good writing, be it books, poetry, essays, or even song lyrics. I developed my love for books even before I could read. I would beg my parents to read me tons of bedtime stories every night. I used to have a collection of fairy tale books which was now passed to my little sister, Louise.

I decided that I wanted to become a writer when I was in third grade and since then, I did everything that would help me in chasing my biggest dream. I joined workshops and read mountains of books. I even became the editor-in-chief of the school papers to the high school and college I went to.

Writing gave me an escape from my crazy life. I was able to create worlds where I could control everything. I was free to decide what would happen to people. It was amazing and liberating. Since I was one of the world's biggest introverts, it was where I poured everything I couldn't say verbally. I wasn't even ashamed to say that I only had few really close friends and most of the time I liked being to myself.

At the age of 22, I, Clary Fray had published my own best-selling novel. I never imagined it would happen so fast. I tried submitting Summer Rain, my first novel to two known publishing houses and both called me after two weeks. I signed a contract with PL Publishing House. They said that they fell in love with how easily I could sway readers with my words. They said they were easily drawn to my story and the mix of romance and mystery kept their hearts beating and wanting for more.

Summer Rain was about a man, Kyle who fell in love with a girl he knew nothing about. He dud not even know her real name so he just called her Berry since she was grabbing strawberries from his fridge the first time he caught her sneaking into his house. Well, that girl was an undercover agent who had to protect Kyle from people who wanted to kill him for something that his parents did even before he was born. They had to travel to Spain where he was safe from the killers before they find out about his identity. The book ended with them parting ways since the bad guys found where Kyle was. Berry had to lead them into a completely different direction so Kyle would be safe.

Three months ago I finished my book tour around US and Europe. Everything was going so well with my life. I mean, I had a job that I loved and I just moved in to my new apartment in New York. I was even told that my novel might be adapted into a movie if it continued to be successful for the next two years.

I just have one problem, well, a big one. It was a writer's worst enemy and nightmare—writer's block. The same thing would happen every day. I would try to write a chapter, finish a couple of hundred words and then I would scrap it because it sucked. Two months ago, I knew where I wanted this book to be heading. I already planned what would happen for each chapter, but when I start typing, I just start feeling off. It wasn't like the old times where I was always excited when writing and I would only stop when I had to go to the bathroom or if I was really hungry.

Right now, I was getting ready to try and write again. I just had an amazing breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream and green tea. I'd been eating a lot more, but Mom said I looked like I lost weight. I wore a comfortable over-sized, over-worn shirt, pulled my red locks into a messy bun, and wore my thick glasses that made my green eyes look dull. I sat on my desk and let my fingers lightly tap the keyboard, a weird mannerism when I was trying to think.

I hadn't talked to anyone about my writer's block because I was ashamed and I didn't want to disappoint anyone. Sometimes it did feel like they were always expecting good output from me and it was adding up to the stresss and pressure I was feeling. They would probably blame my lack of inspiration from my recent break-up with my two-year boyfriend.

Yes, this shy girl who always had her nose buried in a book and studied almost 24/7 managed to get a boyfriend in college. Who knew, right? My older brother and younger sister always swore that I would never get into a relationship because I was too focused on my goals. My parents were even kind of worried that I never showed interest in boys in high school while all my other friends are dating and I was all alone locked up in my room on weekends. My parents were never really strict and supported us in what we wanted to do. They were quirky, fun, and talkative, same as my siblings so there was a time where I wondered if I was really not adopted. I was the boring girl who never got into trouble and always did what was right.

My ex-boyfriend, Raphael and I met in my World Literature class, beginning of junior year. Not only was he handsome and smart, he was the only person I met that was as passionate with writing as I was. We could relate with each other and he made me talk more than I usually did because there was just so much to talk about. We even add quotations from our favorite authors in our conversations from time to time. We were really close friends first before he asked me to go out with him which really shocked me because I thought he preferred much prettier girls, the ones who didn't wear thick glasses and as attractive as him.

Our relationship, for my opinion was too good to be true. I was afraid that any moment, I would wake up and everything would just be a dream. He was the guy that I've always dreamed of and the one I'd gladly bring over to my parents. I didn't feel like myself when I was with him, but at the same time I was. I felt carefree and I was more open to trying new things. I was more inspired to write and he was the first to read the chapters of Summer Rain which he also proofread.

He was really happy for me when I got published, but I saw a tinge of disappointment and envy in his eyes when I told him. It was too easy for me, I think and too hard for him since he had submitted to so many publishing houses yet none called him.

Things take turn for the worse when I started touring which was also when he just got a job in True Circle, a famous lifestyle magazine. We were both busy all the time and barely talked. Usually we talked twice or thrice a week, but there was a time where I couldn't reach him for two weeks. When we finally had the chance to talk, all we did was argue and I couldn't even remember what it was about.

I came home two days early and decided to surprise him at work. That was when I saw him leaving the building, holding hands with a very attractive woman who would pass for a supermodel. She had blonde locks which she probably had done in a salon, she didn't look like she was wearing a lot of makeup, but her skin looked flawless, she probably goes to the gym regularly, and she was tall, almost as tall as Raphael.

I stood awkwardly a few feet from them, just staring without them noticing. Maybe I wasn't really worth having a second glance at with my crappy clothes and maybe messy hair. I remember feeling numb, but also freaking angry. I didn't know how and when I started walking to where there was and when I was near enough, I slapped a surprised Raphael on the cheek as hard as I could. I just said, "We're over" and then I ran away, tears streaming down my face. He didn't even chase after me nor apologized.

When a person was too good to be true, then he probably wasn't showing you who he really was. Until now, months later, the jerk still hadn't said a word to me.

Thirty minutes later after staring at my blank document on my laptop, I found myself online shopping. See, now I was also easily distracted with the littlest things. I was shopping for new clothes and books which helped with my stress.

My phone which I forgot was on my lap started vibrating and ringing which made me jump and almost made me fall on my chair. The caller would just be either my family or Simon my best-est friend.

It was my mom.

"Hi, Mom," I answered, not realizing that I just let out a breath I was holding.

"Dear, are you alright? Is something wrong?" She asked, worried.

"Nah, I was just writing," I lied.

"Oh, am I disturbing you? I'm sorry, but I'm just wondering what time you'll be home tomorrow?"

Tomorrow? Why do I need to be there tomorrow?

"I'm sorry, Mom, but what's happening again tomorrow?" I asked, embarrassed.

I haven't gone home in months and I couldn't remember if we made plans the last time I was there. I was sure it was no one's birthday, though.

"Clary, we're going on a holiday with the rest of the family. We do this every year, I can't believe you forgot." She was clearly disappointed.

It all came to me then. It was time for our yearly trip to my grandmother's beach house in California, just an hour away from home. Well, Grandma Sis wasn't technically mine and Sebastian's real grandmother, but she still loved us dearly. She was Uncle Luke's, my stepfather's mother. My real father died when I was three because of lung cancer. Mom remarried when I was eight and Sebastian was eleven. They had our baby sister Louise three years after they were married. Uncle Luke—Dad treated us like his own children and he was the best father I could ever ask for.

"I'm sorry again, I really really am. I'll start packing now and I'll text you what time I'll arrive tomorrow," I said. I needed to go home first since Dad liked us to be just in one car when we go there so we were taking his van.

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then. Love you."

"Love you, Mom."

And then she hung up. I rushed back to my browser and tried to buy a plane ticket to LA for tomorrow.

Thankfully, I was able to book a flight though it was scheduled five in the morning which sucked because I wasn't the morning kind, but it was better than nothing.

I shut down my laptop as it was already afternoon and I still accomplished nothing. I went to my room and got my suitcase from under my bed. I started packing random summer clothes on it and an hour later, I was done. I had my travel toiletries bag from when I was on tour so I just tossed it inside the suitcase before zipping it close.

I remembered being really excited, even more than Christmas when this time of the year came. I liked being at the beach, especially there at Grandma's because there was hardly ever people so it was just us. I couldn't wait to read my new books while listening to the waves crash on the shore. It was one of my most favorite things ever.

The whole family would be there including Dad's siblings Aunt Jenny and Uncle Toby with their children, and also some of his cousins. Gosh, that was one thing I wasn't much looking forward to. Yes, everyone was nice and I was even close to my cousins, but there was one person that I was dreading to see.

Jace Herondale.

He was one of Dad's cousins who was only four years older than me and he refused to be called uncle. I might or might not also have a slight—okay huge crush on him when I was in high school. I was drawn to good writing that was why I was attracted to him. He wrote very good lyrics, no wonder he was quite known in the entertainment industry now. I was amazed with how he incorporated his wonderful words with music which he, also himself made. That man was really talented.

Jace was also really attractive. He had shoulder length almost gold looking blonde hair which he had in a bun most of the time. He had weird deep gold colored orbs with thick lashes I was jealous of, full rosy lips, and a perfectly angled face. He was also tall giving him the right to call me 'Shortie Clary' as I barely reached his shoulders. I was also the shortest in the family except from the children.

One summer before my senior year in high school, we got really close. I even helped him with a few songs and he taught me how to play the ukulele which was surprisingly easy. Within two days, I was quite good at it. He also tried teaching me how to play the guitar, but I thought my fingers were too short for its six strings.

Dianne, Aunt Jenny's daughter found out that I had a crush on Jace from reading my journal. That nosy bitch, I still hadn't forgiven her. For some unknown reason, she hated me. She told Jace, she even showed him my journal and the one I wrote from the summer before telling how I was so excited to see my unforbidden crush. I even wrote there a short story of what could've happened if we weren't 'related'. The story wouldn't have been really embarrassing if it didn't contain kissing—tons of it.

How did I know it was Dianne? My brother told me. Not only my annoying cousin knew, but also my dear brother. Sebastian promised never to tell anyone and he would do anything so Dianne would shut up. Up to now, it was still the most embarrassing moment of my life.

Jace changed after that. He didn't talk to me as much and it was just really awkward so I just avoided him at all costs. The rest of the summer, I just stayed in my room reading fictional books hoping I could get lost in different worlds where anything was possible and the girl always ended up with the guy she liked.

The publishing house, magazine, and all the other characters like the relatives were just made up.

So, what do you guys think? Should I continue the story?

Please leave a review, even just a short one. I want to see your opinion on the first chap. Thanks. :)

Thank you so much for reading!

- Ishi :)