It's clear that Simon and I spend too much time at Java Jones. All of the employees know us by sight and can make our drinks and have them ready before we actually reach the register. And even though there's not always a place to sit, we've still been known to hang around.

That night, while we were lounging on a couch near one of the windows, I realized how bad it is that we spend so much time in the same place.

It wasn't Eric or Matt. I would have been okay if it was Eric and Matt, well if it had been Matt. Eric gets on my nerves, and I had already seen too much of him since school let out for the summer. No, our addiction to Java Jones coffee was well known thanks to the band's videos, and that made us easy enough to find…

By none other than Jace Wayland.

He sauntered into the building, wearing reflective aviator glasses, a black leather jacket, dark denim jeans and combat boots. He was also still sporting the fake tattoos for the movie they were shooting. Jace took the aviators off and dropped them in the breast pocket of his jacket as he looked around the room.

I could see the smile bloom across his face when he saw me.

Jace made a bee-line to the couch where I was sitting with Simon. I started to slink down in the couch cushions, hiding my face behind my coffee cup. Simon looked at me curiously.

"What are you doing?" he half laughed watching me.

"In roughly ten seconds, you are going to hate me," I whispered out of the side of my mouth.

"I seriously doubt that," Simon laughed, looking around to see what was causing me to act so strangely.

"No, it's a real thing," I answered quietly. "A really, real thing."

"Clary!" Jace fell on the couch, forcing himself in the small space between Simon and myself. Simon looked at me startled as he scooted over giving Jace enough room to sit comfortably. "I texted you, you didn't text me back. And since you said you had a thing this morning, I figured you'd come for coffee after."

"Are you stalking me?"

"No," Jace shook his head roughly, turning to Simon. "Hi," he greeted almost too brightly.

"You are stalking me," I accused him. "You're stalking me in costume," I amended, looking him over again to make sure I wasn't imaging his outfit.

"I'm not in costume," Jace looked down at himself, taking in the dark clothes and combat boots. "This is what I always wear," he popped the collar of his jacket, giving a subtle nod as he did so.

"Combat boots?" I arched my brow, my eyes dropping to the professionally worn-out combat boots. The same pair he had been wearing while I was with him and Alec on the movie set.

"It's a fashion statement," Jace defended himself, taking Simon's coffee from his hand. "Thanks," he saluted Simon with the cup.

"That's my coffee," Simon gaped at Jace.

"So, you've done your thing, I assume, since you're getting coffee, and we've had coffee. How about we go to the set, and you can watch us kill Alec?"

"How do you know this isn't the thing she had to do?" Simon took his cup back from Jace, clearly not realizing that Jace was the foster sibling of the Lightwoods, and while not as famous as his siblings he was still famous. "What if she's on a date?"

Jace turned his attention to Simon, possibly really seeing Simon for the first time. Jace frowned as he looked Simon over, his gaze lingering on the "Chick Magnet" graphic on Simon's t-shirt. "You can do much better," Jace turned back to me. "For instance, I am inviting you to watch Alec die a painful death on set today. And I'm much nicer on the eyes."

"I think Kealie was right, you are a charmer," I gave a visibly forced smile to Jace.

"I'm always charming," Jace agreed happily, ignoring my sarcasm. "And I only have like twenty more minutes before I'm due back on set for a training session with the swords," Jace pulled his phone out to check the time. "Less, actually. So do you want to go?" He looked up at me, almost pleadingly.

"She's busy," Simon commented, leaning around Jace so he was looking at me. "Tell him you're busy."

I looked between Simon and Jace. I looked between my oldest and best friend, and the boy I had met two days before who was offering me a whole new life. I looked between the two of them, and I kept coming back to Jace.

I wanted to hang out with Simon. I wanted the normalcy of being with Simon, bouncing between Java Jones, Eric's garage for band practice, book shops, and all the other places Simon and I had frequented our whole lives. After the morning I had had, I wanted to just hang out with Simon and forget about it.

At the same time, Jace made a much better distraction. Jace wanted to take me to a movie set, to hang out with people, people who didn't manage to annoy me with only three words. Jace was a whole new adventure, one with no connection to my life or knowledge about my mom and the current state of my house.

I really wanted that normalcy. I really wanted that adventure. I really wished I was more decisive.

"I," I started, still looking between Jace and Simon.

"Clary," Simon pulled my attention away from Jace. "Tell him."

"Come on Clary," Jace smiled, a crooked smile that accented his chipped tooth. "It'll be fun. I bet Iz would let you try on some of her wardrobe for the movie."

"Clary doesn't want to try on stuff like that," Simon defended for me, Jace rolled his eyes in response.

"Who doesn't want to try on pieces from a movie wardrobe?" he asked sarcastically, turning around to look at Simon again. "You could do with the assistance of a stylist, or just to see what a good outfit consists of," he held his hands up, motioning to Simon as a whole.

Simon looked down at himself, then glared up at Jace.

"Unless, that," he motioned at Simon as a whole again, "is working for you," Jace conceded. "Is that the sort of thing some girls are into?" He turned back to me, "is that a thing some girls are into?"

"How I dress isn't your concern," Simon grabbed Jace by the shoulder and turned him around so they were nose to nose. "And Clary doesn't want to go with you, okay. So leave her alone."

"That sounds oddly threatening," Jace's head cocked to one side as he talked to Simon. "And I know a little, boy," he gave a small smile at the descriptive term, "like you shouldn't be making such big threats."

"I'm not scared of you, or your leather jacket and combat boots," I could hear the hitch in Simon's voice, though I doubt anyone else would. "I don't buy the bad boy act."

"It's not an act," Jace laughed in his throat, trying not to laugh aloud in Simon's face and act as if the whole encounter was not hilarious to him. Though it was hilarious to him, it seemed that Jace wasn't exactly socialized. "I have a rap-sheet; I've done things that would make you piss your pants. That would make your daddy piss his pants," Jace corrected with a slight twitch of his lips, as if he was trying not to grin as he spoke to Simon.

"And I don't really care about your lame shirt, and trying too hard to be cool attitude. I want to hang out with Clary, and I think she would like a change in scenery. Wouldn't you Clary?" Jace didn't turn away from Simon, his golden eyes narrowed in a glare.

"Jace, I," I really wish I was a bit more decisive. "Stop it, both of you."

They had started a staring match, in which Jace was about to start smacking at Simon. Simon looked a few seconds away from smacking at Jace too. They were acting childishly, over hanging out with me.

"We're in public," I hissed, shooting a glare at both of them.

"You know where we wouldn't be in public? The set, and I can hire a taxi to get us there in just a few minutes," Jace slipped his arm around my shoulder, meaning to pull me up from the couch and take me to a waiting taxi.

"She doesn't want to go to your stupid movie set," Simon jumped to his feet and stood in front of me and Jace. "Do you Clary?"

I opened my mouth to comment, though I had no idea what I was going to say. I never got the chance to say anything though. That was the precise moment my phone decided to ring.

I frowned pulling the phone out of my pocket, checking the ID before opening the phone.

"Who is it?" Simon leaned forward trying to see the name before I answered.

"Hello, Clarissa," a man said as I pressed the phone to my ear. "I'm glad you answered my call."

"Who are you?"

"Who I am is of little importance at the moment," the man answered. "What is important is this, Clarissa, I know where your mother is. And while she is hurt, she is very much alive."

I felt my jaw slacken, I felt my mind run through a hundred things to say, to ask this man. But I couldn't get any of those thoughts into words. I couldn't even manage to close my mouth as the man talked to me.

"Now, I will send the proof of life to the address of the family home; every week until I get what I want. You should not involve the police in this matter, Clarissa. That will just prolong the proceedings here."

"What do you want?" I finally managed to say something. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest, hear my pulse in my ears. Who was this man and why would he have taken my mother? What could she have possibly had that meant anything to this man?

"Nothing much, Clarissa." I could hear a grim sense of amusement in his voice. "Your mother has something in her possession that I have a great need for. Once I have that, your mother will be returned to you, no more the worse for wear."

"What is it?"

"Expect the first video by the end of this week."

The line went dead.