Hey guys, I had a question about if they were still living at the institute. Isabelle has an apartment because her and her mom got in a fight. Simon isn't ready to move in with her quite yet. Alec lives with Magnus. Jace is pretty much crashing anywhere. When Clary left their lives, everything seemed to fall apart. I think I want Simon to stay as the daylighter. It helps to explain why he needs space from Clary and that most of their friendship has been through texting.

Enjoy!

Chapter Three

Brock's pov

There once was a girl who loved to paint. It became easy to hold a brush and a pencil to sketch along the way. She found patterns in the simplest designs. She layered the colors and added the shades. Clary looked at her grade on her recent project. How could someone who paints so much get a bad grade. You think it was natural talent and muscle memory and yet her teacher called it flat, as if something was missing.

Clary muttered out a curse. The painting is flat? Of course it's flat. Does the professor want more angles in the picture? Her picture was a swirl of blue, brown and green as it assembled the water god flowing under water. She threw her hands up and started to pace around the empty art room.

"What's wrong?" Clary whipped to my direction as if she just now realized I have been sitting here on the stool. We've only ever talked in passing before, such as when she needed to share different colors of paint with the rest of our table buddies, just to create the color she was searching for. I wonder if she really couldn't see the supernatural or if she had high social anxiety.

Clary was starring over my shoulder as she said "I really hate school. What about you, why are you still here Brock?"

Her hands were balled up into fists. I could say I'm here to check up on your disability and to make sure nothing eats you on my watch but since I can't tell you that…. "I think you're right. School is rather dreary. If you're free, I have time to give you some tips." I hid my hands inside my hoodie. Whether or not she can't see through glamour, I don't want my scales to show.

She drags over her picture of shame. "Can you tell me anything about that?"

I looked down at a glance to see she drew a cluster of water spirits that formed a blurry outline of a dragon- thing. "Why are they blurry? Are they underwater?" I said pointing to the bottom of the swirly pattern.

Clary took a deep breath and then sighed. "She wanted something that was "underneath" So I made something that people talk about but have never seen. It's the water god that lives underwater. What did you paint?"

I walked to the cabinet and pulled out my portfolio by pinching the corners. "Instead of hiding, I showed a different perspective of the world." I laid my painting on the desk next to hers.

"You painted a rubber ball underneath a table and got an A?" Clary said exasperated.

I pointed to the details. "I widened the view to take in the surroundings. The ball may be under the table but it explains a story. See the dust? The people living in this house is too busy with their lives to remember the little things. Like a lost ball."

Clary clearly wasn't listening or was far too upset to care. "I stand corrected, it's a dusty ball." Clary said dryly, lying down on the next desk to look up at the ceiling.

I set the painting down. "I could have easily put the ball in a field with lonely golf balls under the sun, or have it being bounced off a wall in a prison cell. It shows what people are in their natural surroundings, underneath all of the bullshit." When she didn't reply, I nudged her leg. "Hey, if you're having a mini pity party, you might as well do it right. I have an idea. There's a party tonight on Manhattan street. Meet me there at 9:00 pm, it'll make you feel better."

She finally turned her head to look at me. Her eyes gleaming with unshed tears of frustration and her breaths were long and slow in attempt to calm herself. "Will you promise to keep your dusty balls at home Brock?" She grinned weakly.

"Sure sure. I have to go. I 'll see you tonight Clary." She waved her hand before she stared back up at the ceiling. If I hurry, I'll have enough time to look for the fire stones before it gets dark.

! # !

Clary's pov

Clary looked up at the building. There are bright lights shining and loud music blaring. She looked down at her "sexy grown up" outfit she bought at the beginning of the year. She had high waist booty shorts, a black tank-top tucked in, topped with a long dangly necklace. She kept her normal shoes on. Heels was pushing it.

When you're flying solo you should always have a plan B. Since Simon has a new life and new best friends. She's going to need a new best friend. 'Time to put myself out there.' She clutched her purse and found the elevator towards the top floor. The place was decked out in black with neon lights that shown bright.

The place was crowded with people dressed in punk rock. Simon would kill to be here right now. He's been working so hard with his music career, she bet there were some important people in this room. She scowled, tonight wasn't about Simon, it was about moving on with how suck-y life could be.

A bouncer stuck his arm out before she could take a step forward. "Show me your I.D."

Clary was startled. He had a ferocious way about him that made her take a step back, making her almost bump into the people behind her. The guy looked at her I.D. up towards the light. He was talking over his shoulder; maybe he was wearing an ear piece microphone? It was hard to tell. After another long minute he gave it back and let her in.

It wasn't long before Brock found her. He had two different drinks in his hands. " Grape martini or Peach surprise?" He said handing them out.

They were both clear in color so Clary grabbed one at random. "Thanks, how long have you been here?"

"I had to come early to set up. My friend works here, I just help out."

Clary nodded as a girl in a ponytail came over. "Lord Brockerson is there anything else I can get for you?"

Brock turned towards the girl, expression flat. "No I'm all set Kiwi. Thanks though."

Clary analyzed him from head to toe. He looked a lot older when he wasn't wearing jeans and a oversized hoodie. Tonight he looked almost 10 years older. Maybe it was the hair or the button down shirt and loafer shoes that he was wearing. He was still wearing his multi-colored rings. She wondered if he ever took them off.

"Lord Brockerson? Is that a pet name or…?"

Brock eyed her as he took a long sip from his cup. "I don't know, the name kind of stuck. What would you do if I wanted to call you High Duchess of New York?"

Clary laughed. "I don't know, I haven't had that much to drink." She said throwing out a vague statement as he did. "Maybe people would respect my paintings more if I was a high duchess."

"I bet they would." He said as Clary tasted her drink. It was definitely peach surprise, and it seemed like it only took her two more sips before it was gone. Clary peered into her empty glass. "Want me to get you another?" Brock offered.

Clary shook her head, her curls bouncing around her shoulder. "My turn to buy the next round. Give me a second." Clary said as she weaved through the mass of people to get to the bar. A few guys asked her to dance before she even reached her destination and she denied them all. She was on a mission.

The bartender was another girl with a ponytail wearing the same red dress as the waitress. "Hi, I need a grape drink and a rum and coke please." Hopefully with the pop won't get her as drunk.

The girl nodded. "You just missed your friends, they were here earlier and then left. Something about work." Clary looked around to see who she was talking to to find no one around her.

"I'm sorry, who?" Clary asked leaning closer.

The bartender was putting the finishing touches on the drinks." The council leader's siblings: the devil in disguise and medusa."

Clary shook her head in confusion but smiled politely. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it Clary." The voice came from a guy next to her. "Hi, I'm Mark. I'm one of your fans. Christina always shows me your drawings on the link. Come over here, it's about to start."

Clary followed the barefooted man towards some seats at the far corner of the roof. "Is there an event starting? This place is so cool and it's wonderful to meet you. Thanks for recognizing me." A chill ran down her spine. Whispers of cold wind flew her hair around.

Mark didn't seem to notice the temperature change. "I think a lot of people in my generation follow you on the link. It's how I knew you were coming here tonight. The event isn't an exciting one. It already started. If I were you, I would ignore it.

Clary realized her back was to the crowd. She turned around to see people dancing very strange. Almost as if they were mixing dance moves and fighting. She heard screams, but couldn't distinguish if it was from pain or joy. Mark started to talk again. Distracting her. "They can handle it; I was just worried about you. This isn't the safest part of town for a Blind-sighter. The others already left to track a different group but they should have learned better. Nothing can stop them if they have wings."

"What has wings?" Clary said feeling very uncomfortable around this guy and was planning for an escape route. She still had two drinks in her hand and a friend out on the dance floor. When he wouldn't answer, Clary sucked down her drink quickly. "I'm sorry, I need to find my friend. Thanks for the drinks."

She found Brock with his hands stretched out in front of him, he was sweating. "Hey there, I got you another grape thing. –" She paused. There was a big. burn mark on his button down shirt. "What's happened to your shirt?" Is that blood?

His eyes finally focused on Clary and he gave a quick smile. "Sorry Clary, I got a bit clumsy. I need to leave now." Then he whispered. "Isatodo Nehingo." Brock looked up towards the sky and then towards the East and rushed off into the crowd. Clary stared at her surroundings.

The crowd was thinning, and a handful of drunk people were sleeping in odd angles on the floor. That doesn't look comfortable. Clary thought. She searched the floor again. That Mark guy was still watching her from the other side of the building. She wasn't going to go over there.

Clary was just about to leave then she saw a girl sitting on the edge of the roof and in the next second she jumped. Clary dropped the grape drink in her hand as she ran towards where the girl had been. Clary gripped the edge and peered over. The woman was scaling the wall with her hands and feet. Like Spiderman. She was about to scream for help when her vision went black.