Disclaimer: This is a continuation from Chapter 5, but otherwise all stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.

Simon awoke in a start. His head was no longer spinning; he didn't have the unsettling feeling to throw up. The alarm clock read five in the evening, though his room was pitch black. He stumbled over his laundry basket to flip on the lights. The brightness was blinding.

He opened the door hesitantly, fearing the mess that he knew his apartment would be, but was surprisingly shocked. The last time he saw his living room it had been filled with beer cans and half naked women prancing around. Now it was as spotless as it had been the day he bought it.

Only then did he realize the hallow feeling in his stomach. He passed Eric, who was passed out on the couch, on the way to the kitchen. He mechanically grabbed a random box of cereal, pouring it into a bowl and headed to the refrigerator. His hand grazed the milk when he saw an opened green can. Simon turned his attention to the object; the milk and cereal completely forgotten.

As he spun around the cylinder, images of that morning poured into his head. The girl who was far too kind helped him into bed when he wasn't able to and brought him a ginger ale, ice, bendy straw and all.

"Eric," Simon shouted slamming the refrigerator door shut. "Wake up."

His friend groaned and rolled over onto his back, clearly annoyed that he was awoken from his slumber. "What?"

"The people," he glanced at the ginger ale can he still had in his hand. "The people you invited last night, I need to know their names."

"My hangover is killer dude, what do you want?" Eric moaned.

"The guest list, Eric. I need the guest list."

"What for," he squinted against the light.

"Because I need the name of someone that was here."

He smirked. "Was she hot?"

"Yeah, but that's not why I'm asking." It was always about the looks for Eric. "I need to tell her something."

"You need to tell a girl something, but you didn't ask for her name? Dude that's low even for you."

"Eric, shut up you make me seem worse than I am. So do you have the list?"

"Nah. I invited Sam and Lucas. They invited everyone else."

Simon groaned in frustration. "Then can you call Sam and Lucas and ask."

"Being this desperate could be considered a turn off."

"Awesome. Can you call your jerk off friends or what?"

"Yeah, yeah, it'll get done," he waved off his friend, lying back against the couch.

"No. No, 'it'll get done's.' Give me your phone if you won't do it."

"Upstairs bathroom. Cabinet above the toilet."

He didn't even want to ask. Simon retrieved the cell phone and found the numbers of the two pricks who destroyed his apartment.

The quick conversation didn't help much; just some new names and numbers. Phone call after phone call he got nowhere closer to finding out the identity of the unknown girl. After calling the ninth person he finally heard something relieving.

"Wait, wait, wait can you repeat what you just said?" he stumbled.

"Um, Kyle invited me and all my girls. We're models at Roberts Agency."

"Oh my god," he sighed. "That is so fantastic to hear. I met a girl last night at the party, but I never got her name. And I was wondering if you could tell me her name and maybe a way to contact her?"

"How do you know that she's a part of our agency?"

"I mean, I might be going with my gut, but I've called almost ten people and no one else has mentioned being a model or working for a modeling agency I know for a fact she said she was a model."

"How do I know that you're not some weird creeper or somethin'?" the girl asked.

Simon couldn't understand why he was so desperate to find this girl; why he was going to this much length to find out her name. The only thing he could think of was that even though he had been having the worst hangover that he had ever experienced; there was chemistry between them, a chemistry that he had never felt before.

With a hesitant sigh he said, "You know the person's party you went to last night?"

"Yeah, of course. Simon Lewis. He's the bass player for The Mortal Instruments."

"What if I told you that that's me?"

There was a pause. "Prove it."

"I don't have time for this. Can you help me or not?"

"If you're really Simon Lewis then maybe I can. But if I give you this information and I find out that you're not really him, I'm gonna find you and murder you myself."

"It's a good thing I'm Simon then," he joked.

"Okay fine, what do you want to know?"

Finally. "There was this girl; she had really dark hair and pale skin. And if I can remember right she was very tall, almost as tall as me. And she kept calling to someone," he snapped his fingers as he tried to remember the name. "M- May- My- Maia, I think."

The girl on the other end laughed. "That doesn't help much. Maia Roberts is friends with just about everyone. Well, I mean everyone wants to be her friend even though she kinda keeps to herself. Her mom owns the agency, so obviously they want to get as close to her mother as possible. And as for the description, sorry. Practically all the girls here are pale and tall. There's forty five of us models and probably twenty five of us have brown or black hair. I can tell you all the people who went, maybe that will help. We can see if you recognize a name."

"That's the problem. I was completely shitfaced when I met her. I didn't get a name."

She heaved a sigh. "Okay. You know where Java Jones is?"

"Oh course, it's like the best place to get coffee in Brooklyn."

"Meet me there in twenty minutes. And if you're really Simon Lewis, you'll be there on time."

"I'll be there. It's right down the road. But can I ask what we're going to do?"

"I believe we're gonna find this mystery girl of yours. I'll see you in twenty."

"Wait," he shouted into the phone. "Are you going to find me or am I going to find you?"

"I know what Simon Lewis looks like, so I'll be looking for him."

"Me. You'll be looking for me," he stressed to the girl. "You know, I should probably have asked this first but, what's your name?"

"Don't be scared when a girl in a big green coat walks up to you. See you soon."

"Your name?" Simon tried again.

"Oh, sorry. My name's Clary."

Simon, a cup of Java Jones' caramel latte in his hands, waited for this Clary girl to show up. A few minutes later, just like she promised, Clary walked toward him in a big green coat. She had bright red hair that elegantly curled around her round face.

"Wow, I guess you weren't lying. It's nice to meet you Simon," she held out a petite hand. Just like her face, the skin of her hand was painted with freckled.

"So how are we going to do this exactly?" He clutched onto his warm cup.

"First you're gonna follow me. Once we get to where we're going then I'll explain it to you."

So they walked. It was only a few blocks of the familiar New York City streets before they stopped at a brick building, one just like the rest.

"I didn't have to go in today, but a lot of the girls did. They should be getting out," Clary looked down at her watch, "any minute actually."

Clary and Simon stood in silence, both listening to the sounds they had both grown so attuned to. The passing cars, the honking horns, people chattering and dogs parking. It made Simon calm.

And out of nowhere he saw her; a head of black hair bobbing through the crowd. He took off after her.

"Simon," Clary yelled from behind him. He felt bad for leaving her behind, but he was afraid that if he took his eyes off the girl in front of him, he'd lose her.

He pushed past people, trying to be as gentle as possible though he knew he accidentally elbowed a woman and slapped a man in the face.

She was walking with another girl, whose hair was pulled back but was puffed up in curls. Both were wearing black leather jackets. He reached forward and spun his mystery girl around.

"Simon?" She seemed completely stunned to see him.

He hadn't realized that he had been running until he tried talking. His lungs burned and he couldn't form words.

"Are you okay," she reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

He nodded, embarrassed at how out of shape he was. She pulled him aside so they were out of the ongoing traffic of people walking.

"I never got your name," he panted.

The shock was evident on her face. "I didn't even think you would have remembered me."

"I did. You helped me this morning; when I was too hung-over to do anything. I needed you to know that I'm not usually like that."

"I didn't think you were."

"Well that's a relief," he was finally able to catch his breath. "I wouldn't want you thinking anything negatively about me."

She shooed her friend away. "I'll text you later, Maia."

Simon looked behind him and faintly caught the sight of a flash of green and red.

"Why did you find me?" She genuinely was curious.

After the evening he had it seemed ridiculous not to tell her. But as she stood before him, now slightly taller with high heels on, he became quite nervous. "Well, you told me you're a model."

Her black hair fell into her face. "You really remember everything, don'cha."

Simon fought the urge to brush back the hair covering her eyes by shoving his hands in his pockets. "You told me you're a model and that they make you take pills and do diets to get skinny and whatnot, and for some reason this morning I couldn't form words –"

"Probably because you were piss drunk," she laughed.

He couldn't fight the smile that came. "But I can talk now." The setting sun turned the sky pink and orange behind the girl's head. This time he let his hand brush back a piece of stray hair that flew in her face. Her cheeks grew pink.

"No one told me you were a charmer."

And at that moment he realized that he hadn't wasted his day to just tell her that she was beautiful and that all the shit that she did to be a model was unnecessary. He had done it because there had been a connection, at least on his part. He needed this, whether it became a thing or not. Getting to know this girl was what he wanted; not just a quick hello, what's your name, goodbye.

So it didn't shock him in the slightest when he asked, "Can we start over? Because I searched for a girl without a name all day and I still feel like a jerk."

Her smile was almost as bright as the colorful sky behind her. "Okay," she snickered as he held her hand out. "Isabelle."

The named sounded sweet to his ears.

"Simon."

A/N: I'm so tired I actually think I'm gonna die. Sorry it's been a crazy couple of weeks. I'll try to update more frequently. Super sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I haven't even read it all the way through once.

Another one shot coming very soon...