Hey guys. I know it's been a while, and I really have no excuse. I had two directions that this story could have gone in, and both of them where very different from another, so i wasn't sure which I wanted to do. But I've made my decision now, so the next chapter should be up shortly.

Anyway, enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill.

Sun Studios was not anything special to look at, if you didn't already know what a phenomenal place it actually was. A narrow, red brick building on the corner of a street in the heart of Memphis, a large, yellow plastic electric guitar hung on dusty metal bars outside the white framed door. On the side of the building the Sun Studios logo and name was painted in yellow and white.

Clary, Jace and Jordan sat in the idling car outside the old record studio, looking up at the building in awe. Because, of course, Sun Studios was not just any plain old recording studio. It was the birthplace of Rock N' Roll. Who knew what music today would be like if it hadn't been for this red brick building on the corner of a street in Memphis.

"Wow," Jace peered over the top of his sunglasses, blinking in the midday sun, "It's even better in real life." Clary looked at him.

"What?" He turned defensive, "I've only ever seen it in pictures and movies before, okay?" She smiled.

"No, it's just that I didn't realise you were that much of a music fanatic." Jace grinned.

"You don't have to be a music fanatic to understand the greatness behind this place, Clary." He took off his sunglasses and looked her in the eye. "I mean, this place practically made Elvis." She looked out at the building again, at faded plastic guitar and pale green window shades.

"I guess." She turned to look at Jordan. He was still transfixed on the studio.

"This is it?" She asked him. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah,' His voice was soft, like he was in a dream. "It is." He shook his head then, as though clearing water from his ears. Then he leaned over to the other side of the car, and scooped up his duffel bag, flinging it over his shoulder. He got out of the car, stepping onto the cracked sidewalk. Bending over, Jordan peered back through the open car window at Clary and Jace, and he smiled.

"Thank you," He said, and she was struck by how genuine his voice sounded. "I mean it. I wouldn't have made it here without you." Clary grinned unevenly.

"Just promise us that once you become a famous music sensation, you won't forget us."

"Oh Clary," His laughed. "How could I ever forget you?"

"Goodbye, Jordan. Good luck." Jace smiled.

"Yeah, you too." He looked like he was about to leave, but turned back to them. He took a breath.

"I hope you guys find what you're looking for." Clary frowned, confused.

"What makes you think we're looking for anything?"

"Clary," He looked almost sad, "Everybody's looking for something."

He walked away from them then, guitar slung on his back, and his figure became smaller and smaller the further away he got, until he was only a tiny dot again, in the deep distance.

"I'm gonna miss that boy," Clary said softly, and she was surprised by the sincerity of Jace's reply.

"Me too."

XXX

They drove after that. The days melded into one another; actual dates became a distant memory, and the time ceased to matter. They lived by the position of the sun, and by the demands of their stomachs. They passed the time with music and pencils on paper and corny jokes. And they talked; oh how they talked. They explored each other with words, poking and prodding at each other's lives. They were intimate with their questions and found themselves without guard; they gave each other full access. They talked about lost dreams and lost loves, about their future and possibilities. They shared childhood stories and secrets and found that they fitted each other like a glove. And as they talked, something blossomed. Like a flower, it unfurled another petal with each conversation, and before they knew it, it had encompassed them until it filled their hearts and minds. Clary felt it, and part of her knew that Jace felt it too. But she was scared to bring attention to it, too scared to unsettle the balance they had created. So she remained silent, and she waited.

One night they lay together on the roof of the Ford in Nevada, Las Vegas a hazy glow on the horizon. The stars above them seemed like glitter on a child's art project; though perhaps less garish. Clary lifted his slim hands above his head and pointed out constellations to Jace; Orion's belt, the big dipper, etc.

"Clary?" He asked, sorry to interrupt but too curious to stay silent.

"Yeah?" She peeled her eyes from the sky to look sideways at him. He looked different to how he had when they officially met that night, in the club. His hair was longer, curling slightly at the ends and his skin was a darker shade of gold. The exposure from the sun had lifted the subtlest of freckles on his cheeks, so faded she couldn't see them in the soft glow of the distant city lights.

"Why did you come with me?" He turned onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He didn't have to clarify; she knew what he meant. She mimicked his actions and propped herself on her elbow, facing him.

"My entire life," She explained, "I've done things right. I've always tried so hard to be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect friend. And, I don't know, I just felt like for once in my life I needed to do something for me, something that would make me happy. I mean, is that selfish? I just felt like no matter how hard I tried I could never be exactly what everybody else wanted me to be, so why try? I mean, I know I can't always think about myself, life doesn't allow for that kind of self indulgence, but I just needed it. Am I making any sense?" She laughed and he grinned at her.

"Course. No, I mean, I get it. I do." She felt a rush of relief that he understood.

"So what about you? Why were you so eager to get out? I mean, you had everything." He looked at her, puzzled.

"You know what I mean," She told him, "You had friends, everybody loved you, you were like rich, and no, don't deny it; I've seen that credit card you flash every time we buy something. C'mon then, spit it out. I've told you my reason, you tell me yours." Jace smiled sheepish, and looked down at his fingers, laced together on the roof of the car.

"Uh, well, you're right. I guess I am rich- or, should I say, my dad is. But that doesn't mean I had everything. Those guys weren't really my friends; the only thing we had in common was social status. And those people didn't love me. They loved the idea of me. They weren't real friends, you know? Like, none of them could have been my two am."

"You're two am?"

"Yeah, my two IS. You know, the person you can call at two in the morning and know that they'll come pick you up or bail you out of jail or whatever."

"Or whatever," she repeated.

"Yeah. I mean, I know you have some issues with Simon and Izzy, but I know that if you called one of them up at some ungodly hour they would be there for you, no problem."

"Yeah, they probably would." She smiled, thinking of her two best friends with only the smallest twinge of guilt.

"And it's not just that. Me and my dad..." he hesitated, "He doesn't really care about me, you know? I don't mean that in that bratty, angsty way rich kids do when their dad won't buy them the latest iPhone or whatever. Like, he just doesn't care. I don't think he ever has. I mean, he loved my mom, and my mom loved me, so he does what he's supposed to do. But he's never been a real father." He laughed then, and pulled the infamous credit card out of his pocket. "He gave this to me to keep me out of his hair, and out of trouble. In fact, I doubt he's even noticed that I'm missing, he's away so much." Clary noticed the wetness in Jace's eyes, but didn't say anything about it. Instead she asked him;

"What happened to your mom?" He sniffed.

"She died when I was ten."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault." They were silent then, and suddenly the weight of the night pressed down on her.

"My dad died." She told him, feeling like she should give him something of her when he'd given her so much of himself. He looked confused.

"I thought your dad owned the bookstore downtown? Garroway's Books?"

"Oh, that's my step-father, Luke. He married my mom when I was ten. My actual father died before I was even born."

"Do you miss him?" She shook her head.

"Can't miss someone you never knew."

"I guess."

She turned onto her back then, and looked up at the sky, a deep navy velvet littered with jewels. She felt slim, calloused fingers brush against her own, and she opened her fist entwining her fingers with Jace's.

"Are you sad?" His voice was soft as a whisper, almost carried away with the cool desert breeze.

"Yeah." She told him, her voice and eye's clear. "But everybody's a little sad, right?" His hand tightened on hers momentarily.

"Right."

XXX

They took their time, driving towards the coast, but less than a week later they pulled up in front a beach in southern California. It was about four in the morning – they had been going all night- and it was that point just before the sun rose in the morning where it was so silent, not even the birds had woken up yet. The late night partiers had retired to their beds, and the workers on the early shift where only just stirring in their beds. The sand stretched out, pale and wide in front of them, and the ocean was flat and still. The softest of breezes blew wispy strands of red hair off her forehead as she stepped out of the car, and onto the soft white sand. Jace followed.

Neither of them spoke; it would have felt wrong to break such a natural silence. They sat on the sand together in the cool morning air, breathing deeply. The sky directly above them was still a rich velvet blue, melting softly into a pale, cloudless dusk. The horizon was rimmed with a curious green tint that held the promise a new day, a new beginning. The only thing they could hear was the soft rustle of the beach grass in the morning wind.

"So what do we do now?" Clary whispered to Jace. His hands found hers again and when he looked at her she felt as light as air.

"Anything. Anything we want."

In a small town in New Hampshire, a woman dreams feverish dreams about her run-away daughter. Next to her, her husband lies awake and hopes. A teenage boy sits with his fiancé at a diner on the outskirts of the small town. He is angry. She knows better. All around the country people are waking up, making coffees, having showers and driving to work. Babies cry and children struggle to tie their shoelaces. The world falls through space in the same way it always has. On a beach in California, a teenage boy with an old car and nothing to lose leans down and kisses a redheaded girl with too many dreams spinning through her head. The world goes on around them.

And there you have it.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. This isn't the end of the story, just so you know. It's like the end of part two, I guess. The next chapter will be set a bit in the future.

So I hoped you liked. Leave a review, let me know what you think.

Love, Beth.