Simon considered the strange man's-this Magnus Bane person-proposal. There's magic. Blood of angels. Greatness. The amazing girl and the amazing way she said his name. Like it was a spell.
Magic. Greatness. Extraordinary. Vampires. Werewolves. Hidden warriors...
But another voice was emerging through the chorus of greatness: a faint voice, but one that was gaining volume and strength:
Don't be an idiot.
Honestly, did anyone really want to live in Game of Thrones? Did Harry Potter ever get a moment's peace after Hagrid showed up? Were vampires ever anything but nasty, supercilious pricks? Did wizards ever have any hobbies?
A warrior. Dangerous.
Yeah, fun. Be a warrior in a secret society, after arduous training, with a bunch of weirdos. Goodbye, family. Goodbye, band. Goodbye summer vacation and coffee and Internet and gaming and just about everything else that made life worth living. Hello magic. Hello craziness. Hello bizarre strangers such as the two before him, crazy people who freely admitted that they didn't actually like him, but wanted to tell him how to live his life.
And, if he set off in that direction, he knew instinctively, it was never going to end. He'd be stuck with the insanity forever, fighting and killing and making snappy comebacks to bigoted magical warriors, snarkily killing vampires, on and on and on and on...
Simon cleared his throat. Magnus and Isabelle looked at him expectantly.
Simon said, "No thanks."
And with that he turned on his heel and strode away, heading home through the busy streets, a sense of lightness and happiness expanding in him, warring with a dark shiver of narrowly averted danger. For, he knew instinctively, he had only just avoided a ghastly fate.
The End
(Disclaimer: This is a short story intended as a parody of Casssandra Clare's characters and novel. It is not intended for profit or wider publication, but purely as entertainment for users of FanFiction. If it contains any copy that is another's work, it is purely unintentional. Thank you.)
