Okay...so hello...I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the works by Cassandra Clare

It's been weeks since I met Jace again, and finally I feel like my life is getting back on track. My art is going well - Professor Meliorn is a great teacher, so much better than my high school one. In fact, I've already sold several abstract paintings. My portraits are still going a little wrong, but Prof is making them loads better. So I can afford to pay my rent for the flat, and also go on a course for more painting.

So when I walk down the street I feel confidant for once. I'm showing more skin that I have in three months, even if it's only a t-shirt instead of a hoodie. My worn-out vans give me a sense of security and I'm actually wearing make up for once. I walk into Java Jones, and take my usual seat by the window. I pull out a sketchbook and start drawing the shape of a head. I'm not sure who it is, but I continue until I'm drawing the cheekbones. Sharp, defined, I gently smudge the pencil lines to give it a more realistic effect. I look up and see Simon heading towards me with a goofy smile on his face.

"Hi, Si." I grin happily, enjoying his surprised face. Usually I'm drawn into a shell of my own, barely noticing what's going on around me.

"Hi, Clary. What's up? You seem... happier."

"I am," I say genuinely. "Really. I think that I can finally let go." He nods understandingly, but I can sense a little bit of apprehension in his eyes.

"That's great! Look, I need some help."

I raise one eyebrow, and Simon takes this opportunity to sit on the stool opposite me. His glasses are slightly crooked, so I reach forward and straighten them. It feels nice to act like this. I haven't really touched anyone for ages, and I've missed hanging out with my best friend. Whilst my hand is touching his face, I take the opportunity to mess up his hair playfully. He laughs and and flips my sketchbook onto the floor, landing on a drawing I did months ago.

We both gaze at it for a second. It's me, and my face looks alive and expectant. My eyes are staring at the man next to me, who is smirking smugly. I think back to when I last saw Jace, and look at this accurate drawing. How different they are. Jace five months ago was expecting to be a soccer star, with a girlfriend who adored him; now he looks haggard and constantly hungover. He looked dead. I hastily pick up the sketch book and stuff it back into my bag.

"What is it you need help with?" I force a smile onto my face.

"Clary-"

"Really, Simon." I beg him not to ask me about it. I don't want to have to let go, because when I do a whole avalanche of emotions will overpower me.

"Okay," he sighs, "I want to ask Izzy to move into me."

I gasp and wave my hands excitedly. I know for a fact that Izzy has wanted this for ages, and that they will be so happy together... Jace had asked me to move in with him...

No. Forget him.

I blink and giggle happily. "This is fantastic!"

He looks nervously at me. "But what if she refuses?"

"She won't!" I exclaim. "Okay, we need to make this really romantic..." Jace was romantic. He used to bring me roses. I shake my head, trying to dispel the thought. Simon frowns at the unnatural behaviour.

"Clary, are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine. Really fine." Wow, I was happy about 5 minutes ago. Now I'm just... reminiscing. "Look, you need to invite her out to dinner, and be really sweet. Iz will like that."

"Cool! Should I buy her roses?"

I gulp. "Yeah. I need to go Simon." I stumble out of my chair and fish some notes out of my wallet. I need to get out of this situation. Out of this nostalgic cloud of thought, that leaves me feeling so bitter.

"What? Clary, we only just got here."

"I need to go..." I hurry out of the cafe, wiping tears away from my eyes. The pavement is busy; of course it is. It's New York. So many people, all caught up in their own ideas. I bet you half of these people are in happy relationships...

I stumble into the road, and hear a chorus of horns cautioning me. I run across it, hair streaming behind me, and tears pouring down my face. It tastes so salty, but I'm used to that. I thought that I was cried out, but apparently not.

Someone stops me. I had been running as fast as I could, but someone literally blocked my way, and is holding my shoulders, pushing my hair away from my wet face. Oh my God, I swear everyone hates me. Are you happy God? My life is miserable, and every time I feel happy my disgrace of an ex is literally in my way.

"Clary, what's wrong?" He says softly, looking so concerned. His face looks so different from the one I drew before. "Clary?!" His eyes are frantically searching my own.

"It's fine. Jace. Just, go away." I try to push past him, but of course my weak strength is nothing compared to his gym-worked muscles. "Jace, let me go."

"Clary, please can we-"

"I swear to God if you say talk I will punch you." I hiss.

"I'd like to see you try." He says snarkily.

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh, fuck off."

"It would be my pleasure." He says smugly. Oh my God, he's so immature.

"Okay, I'm gonna go. How about you go too? To hell?" I grit my teeth and move backwards, out of his reach.

"Clary please! Look, I was drunk!" He yells over the busy traffic.

"So what?" I scream back, "You should've been at home, with me!"

"For God's sake! Am I not allowed a life?" He roars.

"You were supposed to be my boyfriend! Who would come home to me! And then we could go out together! Instead of doing whatever you did." I put emphasis on the fact that this was all in the past.

"I was drunk! I had forgotten all about that!"

"Well maybe you should've thought of that before you cracked open the beer can."

"We were celebrating!"

"Which you could've done with me!"

"So I was supposed to stay sober whilst everyone else was wasted?"

"No," I say tersely. "You were supposed to drink carefully, and then still be able to come home to me."

"Clary, can you hear yourself speak? Do you not realise that this was four months ago?"

"Then why does it still hurt?" I scream. "Why do I still feel like my heart was ripped out of my body? Do you know why I was crying? Because everyone else is in a relationship! They can still come home to someone who loves them. They can say sweet things, and they can get little presents from each other. Do you know what if feels like for your best friends to be dating each other, and have to advise them, but constantly feeling alone?"

"Of course I bloody do! Alec and Magnus adore each other! They look at me like I'm a leper, Clary. Like I should be pitied because no one loves me." He yells at me.

"I'm... I've got to go." I have to get out here as well. God, what have I become?

"Clary... look at me."

"No. I'm going home."

"Your home is with me."

"It was four months ago. Now, I'm alone. Always crying. Always hating." He reaches for my arm, but I jerk it back. "I may be able to forgive you some day, but I resent you to much for robbing me of my safety. I hate you for the fact you made me feel alone." He looks at me sadly, and I turn and charge through the crowd to find my flat.

That was weird. I'm probably not going to write fanfiction any more, but I felt like writing this. Enjoy. Oh, and don't write stupid reviews about how you think it's a rubbish story. 'Kay? 'Cause that helps no one. I don't care if you think it's pretentious. There are thousand of stories to read, if you don't like it then don't read my story. But don't make me waste my time by reading your stupid reviews. To everyone else, Have a ball!

I'm feeling very bitter, because my time is filled with revising for exams. I'm sure most of you will know what that feels like. :D