Stalker Eyes

Magnus should have known something was going to go horribly, horribly wrong when AJ called him up in the middle of the night and told him to go to their hideout. Said hideout was a million dollar penthouse at the tippity top of the Jean Howser Condo Project with a view of the East River from its floor to ceiling windows. Magnus was standing in the bedroom, leaning against the wall and looking out to the frigid water, estimating how long the jump would take before he hit the bottom and died. It was an awful thought, but one that he'd been having more and more often. The cherry of his cigarette reflected back at him, angry and red, in the reflection and he blew smoke at it, hoping it would disappear. He didn't like smoking anymore. It made him feel guilty and sick. But AJ had taken away his gum and there was nothing left to keep his idle hands busy, or to calm his wretched nerves.

He heard keys jingle and the lock click. His stomach turned and he closed his eyes. On the inside of his eyelids he saw AJ's ruggedly handsome and painfully angry face. He let it disolve slowly, until only his cold green eyes remained. And then he imagined they weren't green. They were deep blue with a starburst of violet radiating from the pupil. Those stupid stalker eyes.

AJ's boots clunked as they hit the floor and he began thrashing through the apartment, flicking all of the lights off. The door to the bedroom slammed open and Magnus exhaled another puff of smoke. "Hey," he said, heart fluttering.

"Get on the bed."

Magnus's eyebrows shot up. He turned around and saw AJ's, hair ruffled and shirt halfway undone. He was such a beautifully ugly boy. Magnus licked his top lip and slowly reached over to crush his cigarette at the feet of a little angel statue that was probably worth more than his house. AJ watched him with dark eyes as he gingerly sat down on the bed, tearing his clothes off. Magnus waited until he wasn't looking to swallow hard and take a shaky breath. He peeled off his t-shirt and undid his belt, hands shaking.

AJ appeared in front of him and pushed him back onto the bed, hard. Magnus thought of struggling. He thought of saying no and squirming away. It would have been hard, sure. He was younger, shorter, and thinner than AJ. He was also weak and exhausted from working as a barista all night. That wasn't why he stayed still, though. He knew that if he went against AJ the punishments would be more than a black eye and a ruined fake relationship. All of his money, all of the things AJ gave him, would be gone and he would be that poor misfit scholarship kid again.

AJ tugged off Magnus's jeans and underwear in one breath and then climed on top of him. Magnus figured out what was happening a moment too late. AJ had already lined himself up. He grabbed Magnus by the thighs and forced his way in. It was too much. Magnus screamed, not in ecstasy but in pure agony and terror. He grabbed AJ's shoulders and pushed, but the guy was a university student, a rugby player, and the kind of guy who always got his way. Magnus hit at him and tried desperately to brace his feet against the bed and push him off.

"Stop!" he shouted. "No stop stop stop!"

"You like that?" chanted AJ. "You like it when it hurts, you little slut?"

"GET THE FUCK OFF!" screamed Magnus. He twisted his body and managed to get free of AJ. He rolled off of the bed and onto the floor, hitting his head on the cold marble. AJ hopped down after him, lithe like a cat. "No, stop, stay away!"

AJ put his hand over Magnus's mouth and tried again. Magnus jerked his knee up and got him in the baby factory. His face went sheet white for a moment and he fell to the side. Magnus got to his feet, his head pounding. He grabbed his pants off the floor and forced them up. There were tears in his eyes and his heart felt like a molton stone burning through his body. God, what was wrong with him? Why did he hang around creeps like AJ?

It wasn't worth it, he decided. Not anymore. Magnus slid on his shirt and pulled the unused credit card from his back pocket. It hit the floor with a hollow clatter. "You ever come near me again and I'll tell everyone exactly what you are," he promised. "A rapist. A sick, perverted, faggot rapist."

AJ glared up at him, but said nothing.

Magnus turned and left the apartment. There were so many horrible thoughts flying through his head. He felt worthless and sick and wrong and dirty. Nothing, he knew, would ever make him feel alright again. He rushed through late night Manhattan, completely ignored by the businessmen and the party goer's. He was just another crying kid out on a late October night, heading no where in particular. Or maybe not no where. Magnus found himself getting closer and closer to the East River, thinking that the cold could wake him up from the nightmare his life had become. It could wash away the dirt left by all of the rich boys who'd bought his love and used it all up.

How long would it take him to reach the water from the ground?

But then Magnus caught a glimpse of someone familiar. A pair of deep blue eyes. The stalker eyes. He followed them, his breath ragged. They were staring at him from a newstand - Social Youth Weekly, the front page plastered with the two Lightwood kids, Jace and Isabelle. Magnus knew them from school. They were outgoing and loud and rich as all fuck. Only there weren't two people on the cover. There were three. The third Lightwood, Alexander. He had wonderfully ruffled black hair and a beautiful, pale face. His mouth was upturned at the corners and he was waving at the camera, unlike his siblings.

"ALEXANDER LIGHTWOOD: MAN OF MYSTERY," the magazine exclaimed. "FULL ARTICLE ON PAGE THIRTY-FOUR."

Magnus bought the magazine.

He went home with it tucked under his jacket and waited until he was curled up on his futon bed with some Kleenex to dry his own eyes to open it up and read all about those eyes.

Those beautiful stalker eyes.