I want to say thank you to all of my hits and followers I have gotten for my first chapter before I say anything else! I was so happy that you guys liked it. And i would also like to send a personal shout out to 4everclacexoxo for reviewing chapter one!

This chapter is shorter than the first, but it is very important to the story. And don't worry guys, Jace is coming!

Jace: Well I'm not coming quick enough.

Me: Chill out, Mister Impatient. I'm getting there. I have to set the stage for you first!

Jace: Well, I suppose that is crucial.

Me: *rolls eyes*

So anyway, thank you everyone for your support! Hope you enjoy it! I will be getting chapter three up as soon as possible.

Disclaimer: I dont own Mortal Instruments or the characters. It's all Cassandra Clare's

Kat ;)


An hour later, I was ready to go. I had my hair straightened down my back, flowing in soft, red waves. I had on my black, four-inch heels and a tight, strappy, black dress. I was looking great, if I didn't say so myself.

I was admiring my reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that to see different angles, when I heard a knock on the door. Running a hand through my hair, I sauntered over to the front door, expecting to see Kaelie. It was about time she got here. Goodness, how much time did she need to get ready? But, as I stared out of the little peephole in my door, my breath caught in my throat.

His dark hair was a tangled mess on his head; his eyes looked worried, nervous. He had his hands shoved into his pockets as he rocked back and forth, from the balls of his feet to his heels. I saw him suck in a sharp breath before I spun around, pinning my back against the door, spreading my arms across its width.

"What?" I whispered to myself in confusion, turning to creep on him again.

"Clary?" He called through the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "I know you're home." I took in a deep breath as I stood back on my flat foot – I had been on my tippy toes to see out of the little hole, even though I had on heels… yeah, I was that short. I let out my breath slowly through my nose, and smoothed out my dress. Putting on a tough face, I swung open the door to stare up at the face of my ex. Simon.

"What?" I demanded crossing my arms, but my head I was thinking, Holy shit, what is he doing here?

"Uh… Um…" He stuttered, his eyes wide as he stared at me, practically drooling. I secretly took small satisfaction in seeing him so dumbfounded, "You look… Wow."

"Did you have something to say, or did you just want to gawk at me all day?" I smirked, leaning against the doorframe. He thinks I look good!

"I wanted to apologize," He said quietly as he looked down at his feet. I bit my bottom lip nervously, "I miss you." He added.

"It hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet," I said my eyebrows shooting up. Well, that was fast.

"I know, but I want you back, Clary," He shook his head.

"Simon–" I started. Oh, no. Not what I wanted…

"No, let me… Let me say something," He sighed, "I've been thinking about what you told me. It was a mistake to let you go. I wish I hadn't in the first place because I wouldn't be in this mess. Clary, I want you back. I want you back more than anything I've ever wanted. I miss you. And you're the first person I ever really loved. I still do. I love you, Clary. Please… Just, come back to me."

I stared at him, dumbfounded, my eyebrows furrowed together. This was what I wanted. I had thought about him coming to me and begging to have me back. I dreamed about throwing myself into his arms and never letting go. I wanted him to say these things to me, to mean it. Him actually coming to me like this was something I never thought would happen in my wildest dreams. Yet, now that it was, I couldn't help but wander, was this what I really wanted? Or did I just want someone to want me? Did I ever love him? Or was I just psyching myself out because I felt like my own mother didn't love me? The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I wasn't in love with Simon. I was in love with the idea of being in love.

And Simon wasn't in love with me either.

Hopefully.

"Now would be a good time to say something," He said after sometime of silence with me staring at him blankly, his expression desperate.

Silence.

"Clary?" He asked uncertainly. I took in a deep breath.

"Simon…" I said slowly, "You don't love me." I shook my head, not meeting his confused gaze.

"Huh?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"You don't love me," I repeated.

"What do you mean? Of course I–" He started.

"No," I said quietly, interrupting him, "No. I was just the first girl who jumped in the back of your truck." I breathed, looking up at him. When I met his eyes, all I saw was hurt. His mouth was slightly open; his hands were trembling, whether from anger or sadness, I had no idea.

"Wow," He said shaking his head, looking at me in disbelief, "Here I am, spilling my heart out to you, telling you how much I love you… and… you don't even care."

"It's not that I don't care," I said quickly.

"Then what is it?" He demanded. The sudden sharpness of his voice made me flinch and shrink back away from him.

"I don't want to hurt you–" I tried to say when he held up his hand, telling me to stop.

"Save it, Clary. Save it for someone who cares," He said, turning around. Anger welled up inside of me.

"If you don't care about me, then why did you come? If you don't care about me, then why do you supposedly love me? Tell me that much." I said, aggravated. He froze in his tracks, his whole back going rigid.

"Who are you? Because honestly I have no idea," He said as he turned around to face me, "But you're right. You aren't the girl I fell in love with. I have no idea who she even is any more," He whispered, glaring at me disapprovingly. I felt the color drain from my face completely, "Bye." He said as he turned back around and began to walk away.

"Simon!" I called, but he didn't answer me, he kept walking, ignoring me completely, "Shit." I cursed under my breath, walking back inside of my apartment.

The only thing I felt inside of me was anger. I was angry with myself for building walls no one could break down, no matter how hard they tried. I was angry with Jocelyn for making me like that. I was angry with Simon for leaving me, even though I was the one who told him to leave when he tried to take me back. I was angry with Kaelie for making me go to a club tonight when I didn't want to. Hell, I was angry at that guy who took my seat in calculus class earlier.

Not knowing what else to do with myself, I screamed at the top of my lungs, as loud as I could make myself go. Looking over to my right, my eyes locked onto my mother's prized Russian vase sitting on her mahogany coffee table. I reached over, my fingers gripping it and picking it up. Then I flung it at the wall, making glass shatter everywhere with a loud bang. I hated my life. I hated myself. I hated everything that was going on.

Then my goddamn phone rang.

I considered ignoring it, for fear of screaming at whoever it was on the other end, but then as I stared at the shattered glass all over the wood floors, I decided I needed to take out my anger on something other than my mother's expensive Russian artifacts.

"Hello?" I answered it without checking the caller ID, completely surprised with the control in my voice.

"Hey, chica! Ready to party?" Kaelie's voice sang through the speaker. I took in a deep breath, preparing myself to tell her no. After what happened with Simon, I was no longer in a partying mood. So what really came out of my mouth surprised me.

"Hell yes." I said, instead of denying her.

"All right! That's the spirit. I'm parked outside, babe." She giggled.

"Be right there," I said, rolling my eyes, then clicked my phone shut.

Okay. Checklist.

Make Simon regret leaving me. Done. Make Simon want me back. Done. Break his heart – which wasn't on the last at first, but was added when I decided he pissed me off for the last time. Done. Party all my worries away. Mission is ago.

I was about to get rid of all my worries right now. I was a junior in high school. I had no need for a boyfriend right now. None whatsoever. So why the hell was I so concerned about this? Well, you know what? I was tired of trying to please people who didn't matter to me. I was tired of being stuck to one person. Being a teenager meant that you were free. It was your time to make mistakes.

I grabbed my wallet, my phone in my other hand, and walked out of the door. My mom wanted me to stay home tonight? Ha! I was going to party. As a single girl. And, as I headed out the door, I decided I just didn't give a shit anymore.

"Whoa, girl!" Kaelie's voice called out from her car when her head poked out of the open window as I stepped outside.

"Skanky enough?" I asked twirling in a little circle.

"Yeah!" She squealed happily, "You look hot."

"Thanks," I said, climbing into the passenger seat, "I don't look like a nun?"

"You are completely de-nunified." She laughed.

"Good." I buckled my seat belt. She suddenly threw the car into drive and slammed on the gas pedal.

"Shit," I cursed as I braced myself against the dashboard, "Easy, Kaelie." I warned her.

"Partay!" She laughed, and pressed on the gas pedal harder.

I was going to die before I even got to this club. Great.