IZZY:

I was on my way to another class when a small, timid looking girl handed me one. A leaflet, something to do with a fashion show and needing volunteers.

"It'd look good on your resume" Seelie peered over at it with a shrug. "You might get some weirdo's in there though" She chuckled and the conversation turned elsewhere. Aside from the fact that yes, it would look good on my resume, and yes, I did love fashion, the bubbly feeling in my chest gave me a burst of hope. Hope, that I could use fashion to express myself in my own way. That being judged didn't matter, and even if I was on the sidelines with the walkie talkies, who cared? It would be enjoyable. It would be for myself. And, somewhere in the back of my mind, some part of me hoped that maybe, just maybe, Magnus' love for fashion was just as genuine as mine. That way, I might be able to apologise to him in a way that we both understood.

I went to sign up for the volunteering after school; I'd told Alec I'd be a few minutes late and he said he'd wait for me in the car park. I wasn't that surprised to see Magnus signing up too, part of me sort of felt relieved that my semi-plan was falling into place. Although, I was surprised to see the brunette with him, Tess? Tessa? She's one of his friends, yes, but I didn't know she was into fashion – but of course, how could I know what she liked and disliked? I didn't talk to her, much less know her. Alone, this time, I spared Magnus a small smile as I passed him on my way out. He seemed curious, more than anything, quirking his eyebrow in my direction before allowing me a slight grin in return. Happy, I set off back down the corridor and to the car park, where Alec, true to his word, had the Audi parked where I could see it.

"Hurry up and buckle in" Jace teased, calling out the window. I hurried inside the car and buckled up, Alec starting the engine as I did. "If Max complains about us being late it's your fault" He huffed, folding his arms over his chest. "What the hell were you doing, anyway?"

"Signing up for the fashion show" I told him, a grin working its way onto my face. "Not that you'd care" Jace rolled his eyes and opened the window, turning the radio on to some crappy channel he liked. I stayed quiet in the back, not really having anything else to say, until Max clambered in, apologised for himself being late because he had to help some other kid to the school nurse. Nobody said anything otherwise, so I asked him how his day was as Alec drove us home.

The preparations for the fashion show were going to be done every Tuesday's, Wednesdays and Thursdays. There were a number of things you could dedicate your time to, crowd-management, refreshment stalls (they were more called for on the event itself), electrical people (technicians?) to work the lights and the stage, you could help with the designs of the clothing, or just moving the material from and to different places. There were more things going on as well, I can't remember them all; you could also volunteer to be a model, but I didn't want to. I opted for designing the clothes when I signed up; the process is then to wait whilst the organisers look at your student history and whether or not you have the basic capability to do the job.

Crowd-managing and refreshment stalls were relatively easy, anyone could do those. But with the designing, specifically, they needed to be picky. I was fairly confident that my work experience in the fashion chains of New York would stand me in good stead, so I also opted for crowd-management on the night. Because of cheer-leading, I could only volunteer on Wednesdays after school, which the Organisers might think that I won't put in the effort.

This had me worried for the whole of Monday night, Tuesday, Tuesday night and Wednesday morning. My nerves were amplified throughout the whole morning, listening to the mindless chatter of my friends and trying to keep myself occupied, guiltily joining in with some of the insults and comments thrown to our classmates behind their backs. Through lunchtime, I trained with the squad on the field behind the gym. Mostly we were alone, but I could easily spot Jace and a few of his friends on the bleachers. Jace idly watching, his friends practically ogling us.

He didn't do anything, didn't appear to say anything to change their glances or their jeers in our direction. Of course, we're cheerleaders and therefore we must love the attention and adoration that's harpooned in our direction. It didn't help that the girls laughed and joked too, playing along with the 100m distance-flirting. By Wednesday afternoon, we'd been told what our assigned tasks were for the show. My application was successful, so they'd look forward to seeing me Wednesday afternoons for the next four weeks.

When put like that, it didn't seem long enough to prepare designs and make them. I knew I'd have to put more effort in, probably staying behind longer. I texted Alec to tell him I was staying behind to help with the preparations for the show, and that he should go straight to pick Max up and not bother to wait. Being Alec, he wanted to know what time to pick me up. I didn't know when we'd finish, so I told him I'd text him when I did know.

As I entered the fine-art room, the first thing that hit me was the colour. Sheets, rolls, shiny bunches of material in a variety of colors, all for use. Then, the smell of glue guns and something that smelled suspiciously like paint. Because the colour hit me first, I picked out every ordinary-looking person in the room, trying to find the one person who I thought would feel the most at home. Who I thought would be here tonight. Maybe he chose different days. I felt sad at the thought, finding the teacher, reporting my attendance and asking where I should start. Lo-and behold, she seats me a table opposite Magnus, in his glittered corner with materials already splayed out in front of him, his eyes furiously scrutinising the details of a sketchbook.

"…Hi" I sat opposite him, pulling out my own plain-papered sketchbook and jotting some initial ideas down. His eyes flickered up to me, narrowing as if hesitant. He faced away slightly, suspicious, probably. "I…I wanted to apologise" His gaze softened as he turned his attention to me with a confused dip of his brow. "For before? When I ignored you… in the…cafeteria" I finished, quite lamely really. I did know how to talk to guys, but Magnus was an enigma. He gave me a one shouldered shrug as he turned back to his sketchbook, already outlining figures and possible ideas.

"Whatever" He muttered, casually leaning on his arm as he continued with his designs. I took the hint and started with mine.

"So…no Tessa?" Magnus' eyes flickered up at me again, seeming almost cat-like and curious. "It's just…I saw you sign on together" He looked at me a little longer and then pointed elsewhere. I followed his bony finger to the corner, where people were already sewing bits of materials together. Amongst them, I saw the petite brunette, chatting with some other girls I recognised as her fingers moved, almost naturally, as she sewed. "Oh…" I turned back to my sketchbook with a sigh but a determined heart. I would do this, and I would make it for myself.

"Do you have a model?" I was surprised as the softness of his voice.

"What?" I asked quietly, not understanding.

"All the designers are being assigned a model; you can make the clothes according to their size. It'd be pointless making designs and then having to make it bigger or smaller to accommodate for their features; its wasting material" He lifted a pencil to his bottom lip and nibbled slightly. "Mine's that girl there" He nodded to someone I didn't know; apparently he didn't know her that well either. "I have all her dimensions here" His pencil flopped to a piece of paper. "So I made the design according to her sizes" He stroked the pencil over to his sketchbook before flicking it back in my direction. "You weren't given one?" I shook my head and Magnus sighed. "Go ask the teacher" So I did.

My models dimensions were fairly easy to work with. She's similar to me, which suits my style just fine. Once I had them, I found it easier to imagine the clothes on her and how they'd move around her. Magnus, I learned, was easy to like. He made people smile and he seemed to genuinely enjoy peoples company, even if it did seem somewhat distanced. It was like he had his friends, he didn't need anyone else. But for the sake of everyone else, he'd try and make them his friends. We ignored eachother for the first half an hour, working on our own designs. Then, surprisingly, he shoved a colour-shade chart on my sketchbook.

"Out of the circled ones, which do you think will best go with this?" He flipped his sketchbook at me, perfectly proportioned, shaded and coloured, apart from the missing blanks in his design, presumably were one of the five colours he'd selected would go. With his current design…

"Well, the Pepper-yellow could work, but it could be too much of a pop and overtake the design. The Cucumber-green could work, it fits with the other shades, but green can be an off putting colour because it's either a suit-me or not-suit me choice. The Blueberry-blue wouldn't work, it's too pale. The Red-onion-purple could be a nice touch, but I think that would probably depend on a touch or two around the shoes. The Strawberry-red would be a nice balance because you have the lighter ribbons…so…" I thought carefully before deciding. "Strawberry red" I pointed to the chart for emphasis with a decisive nod. He nodded in agreement. Maybe we were getting somewhere.

"I knew it" He muttered, turning back to his work and shading in the red. "So…it's more strawberry red than berry red?" He asked hesitantly.

"…I'd say so" I shrugged with a nod, which seemed to amuse him. "What?"

"You Lightwoods are strange" He decided, shaking his head before stretching out across the table like a cat would. He even raked his fingernails lightly on the surface with a cat-like yawn. "Can I ask you something that could damage your pretty little ego, Ms Lightwood?" I was surprised by the question, but nodded out of politeness.

"Why on earth do you wear so much make-up?" For a moment I'm stunned into silence. I'm used to people telling me how pretty I am, compliments are nice and all, but I only really take note of them when I'm wearing make-up. I'm always wearing make-up, and people keep on telling me how nice I look. It never really occurred to me to not wear make-up. Especially not in front of the cheer leaders, or anybody. "You don't need it" Magnus said softly, a light frown on his face. "Those pictures I took; did you forget you weren't wearing make-up?"

I looked down at my work. Oh god, those pictures must have been aweful! What on earth was I thinking, really. Leaving the ice arena with no make-up—

"You shouldn't have to need it to feel good about yourself" He gave me another nonchalant shrug. "Just an observation" Not everybody can see the world like you do, Magnus. Suddenly, it feels more like an attack.

"Why do you wear all your glitter, then?" He seemed surprised at my response. "Surely it's the same sort of reason?"

"No. I am who I am" He said. "And I like glitter"

"I like make-up"

"It doesn't mean you have to wear it every day" He quipped.

"Neither do you"

"Mines different" He said, stubbornly.

"How?" I replied, just as stubbornly as he'd spoken.

"Because at least my glitter keeps the weirdo's at bay" He smirked. "Your make-up attracts all sort of vile creatures that don't see the real you"

"And you do?" I asked sharply. Magnus Bane, you know absolutely nothing about me! At that moment, his phone began to ring and I turned back to my work, only hearing his replies to the phone conversation.

"…yeah….hmm?...oh….what?" He seemed dejected. I tried not to eavesdrop. "But he was fine….he was jumping around ….Tanyaaaa" It was more of a whine than anything. "Was there really nothing you could do?" There was a pause and he sighed quietly. "Okay then….what do we do now?...in the garden?...right…..why?...oh…..really?" He seemed to perk up more at this. "Cute" He laughed. "yeah?...awh, that's not good….sure, I'll see if I can come by tonight….k…..bye" I couldn't help but glance up as he hung up and pocketed the phone. He seemed sad, pushing his designs away from him slightly and propping his elbows on the desk, his fists curled up and his face resting on them like he was contemplating life.

"Everything alright?" I asked out of courtesy. His gaze flickered to me and he blinked, biting his lip.

"Yeah" He smiled, weakly. He doesn't trust me. "Sky blue, Grass green with merry rainbows"