Hey guys! So, here is the next chapter, a bit earlier than I planned. Because I made maxwaylandgrey edit it earlier. Because I am mean and she is lazy. :D But oh well. Anyways, I won't be updating 'till she edits the next chapter…maybe on Saturday? Sigh. One can dream. I'm going paintballing for the first time soon, so I am exciteeeed! (: Thanks to maxwaylandgrey for, aside from being my beta, being my friend and listening to me rant about pointless crap. Thanks to PinkGoesWithEverything for being a good friend (most of the time), to SportyNo1 for being awesome and always listening to me, and to firelady101 and frizzyhead101 for being awesomesauce. :DD And thanks to you guys, for reading and reviewing:)

.Review?:)

Jace dragged himself out of bed at nine in the morning, all because of Isabelle's constant banging against his door. She kept saying, "WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE!" in a voice that was too loud for his taste, though he had no idea what they were going to be late for.

And then he remembered.

He remembered the nerdy kid sitting in the back seat, the one Clary and he went to pick up the day before. He remembered the look on her face as he walked away from her, like she wanted him, which was not possible, considering how much she hated him.

"Where are we going?" Jace's voice came out slurred.

"Clary's house. Max," she said, with an exasperated sigh, "is dying to go."

"Yessssss!" said Max from somewhere in the hallway, and Jace could practically see him bounce with excitement. It made him grin widely—everything about Max did. He was a young kid, innocent, naïve. He shouldn't have that taken away—no one should.

Jace grunted, pretending to be annoyed, ignoring the way his insides churned in the best way every time he thought of Clary.

"I'm coming," he said to his siblings. "Where's Alec?" Lazily, he stood up from his bed and walked over to his drawer. He pulled out some jeans and a t-shirt, waiting for Isabelle's answer as he stripped his pajamas off and dressed with new clothing.

"He's out with his boyfriend," said Isabelle from the other side of the door.

"Ooooh, Magnus?" Max asked.

"Yeah, kid. He went out with Magnus. Don't tease," Isabelle scolded, but Jace knew she was grinning, even though he couldn't see her.

"I like Magnus," Max stated.

Jace stifled a laugh as he exited his room. Isabelle nodded to Max, and Jace's smaller brother descended the stairs as quickly as he could without falling.

"What?" Jace asked with a sigh. He didn't want her to lecture him about Clary, about what would happen and what she wouldn't let him do, though he was almost completely sure Clary would never let him as near as Isabelle thought he'd be.

"Just . . . good luck." She started walking down the hallway, but then she turned around and said, "And Jace?" He whirled around to face her. "If you're going to make her fall in love with you, which I doubt you can accomplish with her, just . . . don't break her heart. Please," she begged, and then she disappeared from his view and walked down the spiral stairs, her heels clanking loudly against the ground.

I won't, Jace thought, wishing he could say those things to Isabelle. I won't break her or her heart. I promise.

But the thing about the promise was he didn't know what was coming, didn't know her as well as he thought, and he didn't think he could handle breaking her if what he got to know wasn't what he expected. He bit his thumb once, then marched inside his room, took his phone, a swig of vodka, and went out the door.

Isabelle took one look at him, nodded, and said, "You reek of alcohol. Here," handing him a piece of gum.

And then they climbed into the car and drove away to Clary's house, where the girl he was obsessing over was, where her friend was, and where he hoped he'd convince her to go out with him. He didn't hold his breath. After all, she was friends with Isabelle. Jace would most likely end up with a black eye and a stomachache. He just hoped the girl would give him a chance, because he had never felt this way about anyone before, and it was driving him insane.

Before he knew it, they were at Clary's house. He had been engulfed in his own thoughts, and now, standing in front of Clary's door, he shook them away. There was no time—and no way—to act like he was acting in his mind. He had to be cocky. He had to be . . . everything he normally was to girls that shouldn't keep their clothes on.

"Hey," Clary said, greeting them by the entrance. Her eyes met Jace's and, in a heartbeat, they focused on Max. But he could see it—whatever "it" was, he could see it. A connection? Maybe. But if she looked away as fast as she did, it was because she wanted the connection gone. And Jace couldn't let that happen. He had to keep her interested.

He smirked to himself.

His specialty.

/

Clary knew from the moment she saw Jace's expression that something was up. She didn't ask questions. She talked to him like she usually would while looking for signs of strange behavior. Clary was an expert at reading people, so she picked up a few mistakes, most of them minor.

He fidgeted sometimes while grinning his half-grin-half-smirk kind of smile that made everyone go insane because they didn't know what the hell he smiled about, but it also drove them insane because they didn't exactly know what his smile-grin-smirk-thing was.

"So," Clary said, "what's up?"

"Well, I'd say the ceiling, but I guess you could argue that the sky is up there." He pointed at the ceiling with his index finger. "Beyond the roof."

Clary, for some reason, felt herself start to melt at the sight of him looking up, trying to find something holy. The sight of him stretching his whole body up as if looking for the sky, for somewhere, anywhere.

Everywhere.

"The sky is limitless. It's everywhere," Clary said, then stood up abruptly. She was scared that this guy—this stranger—would figure it all out. No one could know, not at all. So she held the tears back and told him she had to go upstairs and get ready for some friend thing. Then she called a friend and asked her to pick her up by the time Jace was still there, saying that she needed it, and that her friend would love her. Maia, her new good friend, accepted the offer.

"But why do you need to run away from the hot guy again?" Maia asked through the phone as she drove to Clary's house.

"Because," Clary said, "I just do."

"Great explanation," said Maia.

"Thanks," replied Clary.

"I'll see him and tell you if I approve, 'kay?"

"Okay," Clary said slowly, throwing herself back in bed. "When will you be here?"

"Fifteen minutes, so don't fall asleep." As soon as Maia finished her sentence, Clary yawned and stood up. She was still really tired for some reason.

"Fine." She hung up on her friend, slipped on her beat-up converse, and stormed out of her room. The door slammed loudly behind her, making her wince. "Sorry!" she said, knowing her mother or Luke would come out any time if they were there to tell her that doors shouldn't be slammed. She rolled her eyes at the thought of getting that lecture again.

She almost ran into Jace. Muttering a quick, "Sorry," she made her way out of her house.

But not before Maia beat her to the entrance.

"Damn it," Clary swore swiftly.

"Hey," Maia said. "Do you have food? I'm starving." She lets herself inside the house, eyes scanning the whole house.

"So?" Clary asked.

"Nice place. Too fancy. You know," she said, rolling her eyes. "So." She stopped right in front of Jace. "Butler. Great. Here," she stripped off her hoodie, "is this. Hold it 'till I leave, 'kay, Blondie?"

"Excuse me," Jace said while Clary stifled the laughter that rose from the back of her throat and made the way to her mouth, "but I'm not a butler. I am a guest. I'll be treated as one."

Maia snorted. "Okay, snobby boy. Be a gentleman, then, and hold my hoodie while I go fetch something to eat."

"Who wears a hoodie in the middle of the summer?" Jace said.

Clary stared at him pointedly, then back at her outfit, and said, "I do. And, if you wanna get laid, you will shut up and move." She grabbed Maia's hoodie from his arms and walked to the kitchen, glancing behind her when he couldn't see, only to find him standing there, waiting.

What was he waiting for?

"He's hot," Maia said, nibbling on a piece of cheese. Then, when she saw Clary—when she finally registered the fact that she was there—she decided it was time to leave, and so they took their things and walked out the door.

"He is hot," Maia said again, with emphasis on the last word, not that Clary needed that to notice how hot Jace was.

"And an asshole," Clary reminded her, because while he might've been a god physically, he was anything but one when it came to his personality.

"That, too," Maia agreed, climbing inside the car.

"So, where to?" Clary looked ahead, waiting for her friend to answer the question, though she knew. She was going to want to visit her boyfriend, Jordan. He was a decent guy, though Clary didn't like spending as much time with them both. She liked spending time alone with Maia. She behaved differently when Jordan was around—like a dog and its master. That was how it was the two of them. Clary shook her head. She knew Jordan loved Maia.

Clary had been to a boarding school in Los Angeles before—the second one she'd ever been to. Freshman year. She hated, hated, hated freshman year, and the scars in her arms were enough to prove it. She ran a hand up and down her wrist self-consciously, trying hard to shove those memories down her throat, trying not to scream at the thought of living them all over again. That was where she'd met Maia and Jordan. They hated each other back then, but something changed during sophomore year, because they became friends and, ultimately, became a couple. Clary only hoped he wasn't as short-tempered as before. She really, really did.

"We're going to the studio," Maia said, much too Clary's surprise, with an added wink.

"The studio." Clary hadn't thought of that as an escape place. She hadn't ever thought of it as a good place at all, mostly because it was where the three worst things of her freshman year had happened. It was the place where she fell in love, the place where she lost her virginity, and the place where her heart shattered into a million pieces.

All thanks to that asshole, Sebastian Verlac.

"There are some new people performing today. Hey," she said, "where's Simon?"

"What? Eager to see your boyfriend?" Clary teased, and Maia turned a deep shade of red. When they first got here, Maia crushed on Simon—until he and Clary left, and all she had was Jordan, and then the relationship happened.

"He's my friend," was all Maia said, and then the rest of the car was spent in silence. Maia turned up the radio, and a Taylor Swift song was playing. Of course.

Romeo, save me,
They're trying to tell me how to feel.
This love is difficult,
But it's real.
Don't be afraid,
We'll make it out of this mess,
It's a love story,
Baby just say yes.

Clary rolled her eyes and glanced over at Maia. "Please change it," she begged her friend. She shrugged, never making a move to change it. The song stopped playing. And then another "Romeo and Juliet" related song started playing. Oh, yay.

Check yes Juliet,
Are you with me?
Rain is falling down,
On the sidewalk.
I won't go,
Until you come outside.

Check yes Juliet,
Kill the limbo,
I'll keep tossing rocks,
At your window.
There's no turning back,
For us tonight.

Lace off your shoes,
Here's how we do.

Run, baby, run,
Don't ever look back,
They'll tear us apart,
If you give them the chance.
Don't sell your heart,
Don't say we're not meant to be.
Run, baby, run,
Forever we'll be,
You and me.

Clary sang along the lyrics, even making an air guitar. From the corner of her eye, she could see Maia tapping on the steering wheel, making it her official drum set. They sang the whole song, every word, every breath. Once they were done, they were exhausted enough to let the radio station play their music without them interfering and singing every five seconds.

"We're here," said Maia, and only then did Clary realize she'd been staring out the window, not paying a single ounce of her attention to the road.

There was the small recording studio. VERLAC RECORDING COMPANY said the label at the top of the building. It was a considerably big building, considering the usual size of recording company buildings. Clary jumped out of the car and shut the door, glancing back to the company building only to find the face she'd been dreading to see staring back at her.

"You said he wasn't here," Clary said through gritted teeth.

Maia looked like she wanted to die in a hole. "I may or may not have lied."

In front of them, leaned against the nearest wall, stood Sebastian Verlac, a cocky smile twisting his features, making his black hair and eyes look more threatening than usual.

And he was looking right at Clary.

Thankfully, I'm not too lazy to do this again.

**I, camibandlover, do not own TMI or the two songs (Love Story by T. Swift and Check Yes Juliet by We The Kings) in this story. I merely own the storyline. I hope you understand that I am not out of high school, not a redhead, and do not live in New York. I do not have Cassie Clare's life. I've never spoken to Alex Pettyfer. (I know. Saddening.) So, therefore, I own nothing but the plot.**