Author's Note: Please review guys :))) It makes me want to write more!
My night was going great, well not really, but I was determined to move past the obviously drunk interaction I had early. After I downed two drinks, girls started buying me more. Paradise Nightclub was a gay bar and I didn't swing that way, but who would refuse free drinks?
Most of the women that came up to me were really sweet and I found myself talking to them easily. I'm not entirely sure if it could be called flirting or not, but it was distracting. After my fifth drink I somehow knew I was done. Instead of finding Simon or Isabelle, I went to the dance floor with the blond babe that had just gotten me a cosmo. I got it down in three seconds flat before I dragged her after me. I forced us into the crowd of hot sweaty bodies until we were in the center.
These girls knew I was straight. It was the first thing I told them when they came up to me. I wasn't about to lead on all of these women, which would have been pure stupidity. Being a girl, I know what I am capable of when I'm pissed off. None of this stopped me from having fun and dancing with complete abandonment of my conscience. I lost feeling of my surroundings and got lost in the music. I let go of everything.
Time fell away from me for a few songs, or I would guess hours, and then reality came crashing in. I was pulled from my bliss and taken outside by someone; I didn't have the energy to see whom it was. The air was chilling, but it wasn't cold. It was refreshing and it cleared my senses. I became fully aware of where I was and what I was doing, but that didn't stop my gasp when I realized who was standing with me.
Mr. Lightwood and those damn tawny eyes. They weren't glazed like before, so I knew he wasn't drunk. That didn't stop the utter shock coursing through my body as I took him in again. He was wearing navy blue dress pants with a light blue button up shirt with a tie matching his pants. He looked like a god. It was completely opposite of what Simon would have looked like. He was staring at me and I stared right back.
"Twice in one night, Mr. Lightwood? Every nerve in my body is telling me to scream and run away. Should I listen?" I ask quietly as I divert my eyes to watch the never-ending traffic.
"There's no need for that. I just wanted to apologize for earlier today and a few hours ago as well. You didn't deserve any of that, and I'm sorry," he said while he searched his pockets for something. He pulled out a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. "Do you want one?" Mr. Lightwood reached out his hand with a cancer stick, offering it to me.
I politely decline but don't hide my disgust and I say, "You shouldn't be smoking. It could kill you."
"Okay," is all he says before he sticks the cigarettes back in his pocket along with his lighter.
I can't help my curious smile when I question him, "It was that easy not to smoke? I'm surprised you didn't tell me to fuck off or something."
"When a beautiful girl is making demands at you, the only thing you should do is listen. Also, you can call me Jace. Only students call me Mr. Lightwood. It makes me feel old."
"Funny, your wife said the exact same thing," I snort at him.
"I'm not sure what bothers me the most about that statement. The fact you said it's funny or that you think I'm married," he's staring incredulously at me now.
I try to add up everything in my head, but I'm not sober enough for any conclusive thinking. Instead I blurt out, "Remember Isabelle and that big ass diamond on her finger? She's in there dancing with another man, meanwhile you're out here telling me I'm beautiful?"
Before I can even blink, Jace is right in front of me looking at me like I'm insane. His eyes soften, as they look me up and down. Almost like I look different depending on the distance between us. He licks his lips before he speaks, "If I was married, we'd be at home in bed making this night memorable. But alas here I am at a gay bar watching over my little sister, because her dick of a fiancée can't be bothered to look after her himself."
I should be affected by this confirmation, but I'm not. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't assume things. Isabelle is your sister?" I ask because I am damn curious. They look nothing alike, in fact I would say everything about them is completely opposite.
He's looking at me funny again and I don't know what to think of it. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?" my hand automatically goes up to my face, but his hand intercepts it.
I don't know if it's the alcohol or my fatigue, but the shock his touch gives me has my body tensing and I snap my hand from his grasp. He looks up at me with guilty eyes and I know he felt nothing.
Fray, you are clearly a lunatic.
"No, you're okay. Isabelle, Alec, and Max are my siblings. Isabelle is marrying Sebastian; well they're engaged at least. I hope to anything holy that they don't get married. He doesn't know how good he has it with her. Sebastian doesn't deserve her," he has an odd tone to his voice. The only thing I can think to describe it is pride, and I look up to the stars wishing that Jonathan could love me like that.
My brother would never care enough about me to warn off any of the men I've been with. He's never been there, but I can't think of a time when I've been there either. We've just learned to live without each other.
I think I need another drink, or perhaps twelve.
"I should get back inside, Simon's probably looking for me," I say with a broken, detached voice.
His hand stops me again, but this time the shock is minimal. It is still there, but it's definitely not as strong as it was. "I simply can't wrap my head around the fact that you have no idea who I am. There isn't a fucking clue in that pretty little redhead of yours," he doesn't sound mad, but there is annoyance clear in his voice.
"What are you talking about?"
"I was practically in love with you and you have no idea who I even am," he put his hand to his heart in mock hurt. "I even put up with being friends with your asshole brother in order to see you everyday. Which never happened by the way, you were never home. That's most likely why you don't remember me. I bet you would give anything to take back whatever you were doing so you could've seen me too." He winks at me and it confuses me further.
"That is so fucked up," is the only thing I say. There were many things I wanted to say, or needed to say but I just couldn't. Nothing sounded right and I didn't have any feelings towards this man in front of me. Even the hatred I felt early has vanished; all I feel is nothing.
I walked away back into the club to find Simon, but I had no desire to go back to the dance floor. I had no craving to stay here any longer, but I walked to an empty barstool anyways. Helen was there talking it up with some girl that I'm pretty sure had gotten me a drink early. I sat next her and laid my head down on the bar until I felt her poke me.
"Clary, are you alright? I haven't seen you all night, did you just get here?" my roommate asks me expectantly.
I debate on if I should tell her just how weird my night has been, but I decide that she doesn't need to know. She's never shared any information of her life to me and I hate that I am so easy to get information from. Helen knows too much about me and I know next to nothing about her. "Yeah, I've been dancing and drinking a lot. Not the best combination. I think I'm going to head back to our dorm, will you tell Simon I left?" I do my best to sound sick or super drunk.
Either way she buys it and nods. She hands me my set of keys I asked her to keep in her clutch earlier today. Helen turns her seat so it's facing the crowd of people dancing. "Who is that girl anyway? He's been with her since I got here." I follow her gaze and find that she's watching Simon with Isabelle. Then I decide that tomorrow I'm going to beat him to a pulp.
"Right, well I'm going to head out. I'll see you when you get home or no?" I give her my are you gonna get laid look.
She responds by winking at me and I giggle before hopping off my seat. I leave the club and head back to my dorm. I probably should have called for a taxi, but I wanted the time to think. My keychain pepper spray was in my hand just in case anyone bothered me while I walked home. Though living in California was a lot different than New York. Old habits die hard.
It doesn't take very long to get there and I am aware of the sudden feeling that I'm being watched, but when I turn around I can't see anything out of the ordinary. I'm a little bothered, but I shake the feeling off and unlock my door.
I make sure to deadbolt the door before I head to bed in what I'm wearing, not bothering to change.
My mind is racing in result to what Jace was saying. There's absolutely no way I knew him, and there's no way he knew me either. He must be confused, but then again how many other Clarys are there? I don't really recall any of Jon's friends, but I definitely don't remember any of them being as hot as Jace. But there was that one senior guy who bought my first painting. I never knew what he looked like, but his name was Wayland
There's no way Jace bought my painting, he has made it very clear he thinks my art is stupid. He thought he was in love with me? Clearly! How can you love a person you've never spoken to?
I don't get it and I don't think I ever will.
I finally give in to sleep replaying the feeling of shock I got when he touched me, wondering just how bad my luck is.