Disclaimer: The characters are based on those created by the lovely Cassandra Clare. Everything else is entirely of my own crazed imaginings.

February 22, 2009

The lights that nearly blinded him were nothing compared to the deafening roar of applause as he ascended the stage. In a blur, a slim figure handed him the golden statuette, and he turned to face the crowd.

Eyes widening at the rows upon rows of clapping and cheering people, Magnus Bane took a deep breath before he began: "Well, I see all that campaigning paid off!"

The crowd shook with laughter, still continuing their standing ovation and delighting in his usual teasing nature.

"In all honesty, though, I can't begin to describe how deeply thankful I am." He was, too.

He cleared his throat, "I'd like to thank the Academy for this wonderful honour. I feel as if I've worked towards this moment for my whole life. Thank you to the entire cast and crew of Downtrodden, such a fabulous team of talented people that deserve everything in the world and made each day of work an absolute joy."

"Thank you to my best friend and the best manager in the world, Jocelyn, without whom I wouldn't have been able to make any of those early morning shoots!"

He caught a glimpse of her auburn hair in the first row to his left, laughing and smiling brilliantly next to a faceless seat-filler.

"Thank you Luke, for taking me to that first audition ten years ago—I think we can agree now that we've both gotten so far since that day." Magnus could only imagine the director's soft grin, as he couldn't spot him in the crowd.

"And finally, I'd like to to thank all my many, adoring fans, both of them"—hoots of laughter erupted from the audience—"for all their endless support." He smiled then, glancing down at the little golden man in his hand. "Being able to work with so many talented people, being able to do something I love..."

A light by the teleprompter began blinking red, telling him to wrap it up.

"This job, it's... magnificent. Thank you again, lovelies!"

As he turned around with his back to the cheering mass of people, he glanced at the handsome stagehand showing him backstage. Magnus caught his chestnut eyes, was thrilled to see the young man blush, and dismissed the fleeting thought that he'd prefer pupils ringed with the colour of the ocean. He had just won his first Oscar. Tonight, he would celebrate.

He dropped a glittering wink before striding out to the press.

September 12, 2009

Breath coming out in short, deep breaths, his right leg twitched once as he heard the loud CLAP signalling the start of the race. In a shot he was off like a bullet, tearing around the first bend in just a few seconds. The second bend came quickly, and after clearing it, he felt it, the rush.

There was nothing he loved more than this swiftness of blade on ice, propelling him forward in a controlled frenzy. The arena and the crowd faded into whiteness, the three other bodies on the ice becoming nothing but dark shadows. All that mattered was the swift shearing noise of his skates as—left, right, left, right—his fingertips skimmed the ice during a smooth turn. He cleared the next bend deftly, breaking out into a grin as he approached, rounded the final one and caught sight of the finish line up ahead. Alec Lightwood's path to the Olympics was straight and clear.

Really, he shouldn't have been too worried about the Trials, especially with the longer races. Yesterday, he had rocketed past the other Americans "without even breaking a sweat", in the words of his father. But the longer races weren't his weakness, and it was this, the 500m, that had always worried him. That is, until he had trained and trained for four years ever since Turin, after which he caught international attention in Vienna where he won Gold and broke the World Record for the 500m at the World Short Track Speed Skating Championships this past March.

Alec crossed the finish line and slowed down to resting speed, a wide grin breaking out on his face.

Surely, this would be his year.

Part One: Toronto

September 14, 2009

The grey slabs of runway disappeared once the plane tipped up and soared towards the clouds. Alec leaned back in his seat, knowing that he had just over an hour to try and catch a nap before they landed again. Just as he was about to close his eyes, however, a shrill cry interrupted him.

"That is the last time I ever try to put on eyeliner in an airplane!"

Alec groaned and glanced at the dark eyes across the aisle, silently cursing the fact that all the jet's seats were inwardly-facing. "Isabelle, takeoff is hardly the time to do your makeup."

His sister huffed at the compact mirror in her hand, dabbing at her left eye with a tissue before stowing her makeup kit away and pulling out her laptop. "But see," she pointed at her eye, "it still turned out nicely, and now I have more time for other things." On the open screen, the flight's Wi-Fi login screen popped up. "Any idea what the password is?"

"They password-protect their Wi-Fi?" Alec asked in honest curiosity. "Nobody would use it except us."

Isabelle tried typing something in and scowled when an error message appeared. "I'm asking Mom and Dad if they know," she said, standing up and walking to the back cabin where their parents were seated.

Alec watched her go before facing forward again. He wished the Penhallows could have invested in some foldaway beds for their fleet of private jets. Then again, they actually owned private jets, and had generously allowed Alec and his family to use one on their trip from New York to Michigan, and now to Toronto.

"The flight's not that long," a voice piped up. Alec turned and saw Clary Fray in the seat next to Isabelle's vacant one, staring nervously out of the window. She was playing with her hair, a nervous habit that Alec had noticed in her since she all but became a permanent fixture in their life. All those years, and she still hasn't gotten used to flying.

He shouldn't have been comparing them, really. Clary had only started travelling vigorously about four years ago, when she was fifteen and officially became Jace's partner for pairs. Three World Figure Skating Championships later, and she and Jace were three-time medallists with two Silvers and one Gold, America's favourite couple to win at Vancouver. It was their first Olympics together, and although Clary was nervous, he knew that Jace was more than confident in their chances.

He turned to the seat beside him and saw his adopted brother already scrolling through his phone with one hand, the other stretched across the aisle to hold Clary's hand. Alec saw the reassuring circles he was tracing on it with his thumb, and with a sharp twinge he remembered how as a young teenager he had once hoped for that kind of relationship. Not anymore, he thought.

"Hey, Alec."

Alec looked up and locked eyes with Jace.

"Shouldn't Superstar be getting his beauty rest?" his brother asked, smirking.

Alec ignored the use of his infamous nickname. "Like Clary said, it's not a long flight. I'll have time to nap at the condo before we go to dinner."

"I doubt you'll have time for that." Isabelle strode back into their cabin and sat down. "Dad just told me how he wants at least four hours training before we head downtown. Oh, and the password's 'USTEAMNUMBERONE' if anybody's interested. They probably fixed it just for us."

Wrinkling his nose at the idea of four training hours after a flight, Alec suddenly regretted yesterday's "rest day". Of course, rest day for him and Isabelle still meant two hours on the ice doing light exercises, but their father and coach, Robert, had told them they needed a break after the exertion of the last day of Trials. He insisted on the rest day, with the condition that they return to training immediately upon arrival in Toronto. Really, Alec hadn't thought the rest day all that necessary, since he and Isabelle were both still young and spry, him at 22 and her at 19.

"You have that look on your face again," Jace said.

Alec glanced up. "What look?"

"That look you get whenever you're thinking about a race. You're thinking of the 500 again, aren't you?"

He wasn't able to hide his smile, a fact that Jace noticed. Laughing, he teased, "I hope Superstar isn't getting too cocky on us."

"Alec, cocky?" Isabelle laughed. "If anything he needs to show a little more bravado or the other skaters will think he's too soft."

Alec rolled his eyes, all too familiar with their teasing him for his introvert qualities. "I just can't believe I got that break in the semifinals. If Apolo hadn't crashed—"

"No, Alec, we've been over this." The voice with which his sister spoke was adamant. "Apolo crashing had nothing to do with your results. You would've qualified regardless, and although the Team has one less favourite to root for with him unable to compete, you now have even better chances at Gold. Now, can we talk about something other than skating?"

A beep sounded, and Clary jerked her head away from the window to look at her phone. "Sorry, my mom just texted me. She says the restaurant for tonight just confirmed her reservation."

"It's not just any high-class chain restaurant, is it?" Jace had a knowing smirk on his face. "I bet she had her hotshot actor get us into some private place downtown."

Clary shrugged. "I don't know if she'll have Magnus with her tonight. She probably will, though."

"I still can't believe we're meeting him." Isabelle was visibly excited. "He's such a hot ticket now, and he probably knows all the right people in Hollywood."

Alec wrinkled his nose again. "I doubt he'll want to keep in touch with us after this week. The only reason we're even meeting him is because of Clary's mom."

Jocelyn Fray, Clary's mother, was the manager of Magnus Bane, actor extraordinaire and the star of one of the Toronto International Film Festival's headlining films. Thanks to Jocelyn, Alec and his siblings were tagging along to the film festival. Clary would get some much needed time with her mother, after her mother had been away working in LA and Clary had been training in New York. Jace was with Clary, and Isabelle had wanted to mingle with movie stars. Their parents couldn't leave their charges without training for a week, so they had come as well, securing a private skating centre owned by their friends the Penhallows for their time in Toronto.

This left Alec with no choice but to tag along, not just to Toronto but to TIFF itself, deciding that he'd rather spend time watching movies than sitting alone in an unfamiliar condo.

"Oh, come on," Isabelle said. "Magnus isn't who he is because he's not friendly. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to schmooze with some world-class athletes."

Jace cocked an eyebrow. "World-class? Look who's getting cocky now."

"I'm just saying that this could be fun. A break, of sorts." Isabelle sighed. "What's wrong with that?"

Realizing there was no way he would be able to nap on the flight, Alec shifted and tried his best to tune them out. Not for the first time that day, he longed for his cell phone to pass the time, cursing the fact that he had broken it the night before during a jog. Now he would have to wait until they were back home before he got a new one.

Home, he thought, remembering Izzy's innocent question in regards to this little excursion. What's wrong with that? Many things, in fact. They ought to be back in New York, training for Vancouver, which was in less than six months. Instead, they were about to go prancing around Toronto with an A-list celebrity who was probably snobby, arrogant, and rude. He doubted that Magnus Bane would ever come down from whatever cloud he was on.

Grumbling, Alec contented himself with the knowledge that in under a week, they'd be back on a plane, but instead heading home to New York. Then things would be back to normal.

Still, it was going to be a long week.

With a soft ding, the small sign above bearing the number '16' was illuminated, and the elevator doors slid open to allow the two guests in the hallway entrance. Once inside, the shorter of the two pressed the button with the letter 'G' harshly, and the occupants were headed to the ground floor.

"You know, you could be a little less excited," the taller guest said. He glanced down at his companion. "Try as you might, love, you can't make this elevator go faster."

"I can't help it, it's just that I haven't seen her since the 4th of July!"

"Seems just like yesterday..."

"Only because you were down in Miami with that dashing devil of yours. What was his name again?"

"I don't remember, it was two months ago."

"Exactly. Two months since I've seen her."

"Her? No, hon, it hasn't been a girl since last Christmas."

The elevator slowed to a stop, allowing its occupants to exit. The shorter one immediately pulled the other to the side, hiding them behind the corner of a hallway before they could be seen. She glared into his eyes. "Geez, her, as in Clary. And please, remember to control yourself before we get to the car, Magnus."

Magnus Bane grinned at his manager. "Of course, darling."

"No funny business with the fans."

"Never."

"Magnus?" His manager, Jocelyn, fixed him with a sharp glare. "I mean it."

He smirked and patted her on the cheek. With that, he strode out around the corner of the hallway and into the bustle of the lobby.

Not even the Fairmont Royal York staff could keep out the bulk of the media. A velvet rope was strung around the wall opposite the front desk, allowing Magnus to make his way to the doors without being bombarded by potential interviewers. Jocelyn was hurrying alongside him, trying to match his long strides. "I really need to talk to the staff about these hounds," she hissed.

Magnus gave a wave to the front row of media people, many of whom were reporters and journalists who had been parked to try and catch the celebrities staying at the Fairmont. The actor shot them a sparkling smile before allowing Jocelyn to push him out through the front doors. On either side of the set of doors, a throng of screaming fans were clamouring for Magnus' attention, only held back by a velvet rope and one or two security guards.

Ignoring Jocelyn's insistence on getting into the waiting car, Magnus strode to one side of the fans, who wailed even louder upon realizing that he was approaching. At the front row was a group of young girls, probably between 16 and 18 years old. As he came closer, one girl in particular looked to be on the verge of tears. Smirking inwardly, he took hold of the proffered notebook and signed his name with a flourish before handing it back to her.

She probably would have fainted if her friend hadn't squealed in a high-pitched voice, "Ooooh, take a picture!"

Magnus looked the young girl in the eye and smiled widely. "Of course," he said, pulling her in for the shot. After the picture was taken, he winked at the group of friends. "Stay fabulous, darlings."

He spent a few more minutes signing autographs before Jocelyn shrieked at him from the car door. Waving and flashing the crowd one more smile, he ducked past his manager into the car. It pulled away as soon as Jocelyn shut the door. "Jesus, Magnus," she said. "Any longer and we would've been late."

"Late?" The actor cracked his knuckles before wiping his hands on his dark leather pants. "Magnus Bane is never late, everyone else is simply early."

"That's from The Princess Diaries. It was Julie Andrews' line," said Jocelyn, taking out a bottle of hand sanitizer from her tote bag and handing it to him.

Magnus took the bottle and squeezed a liberal amount onto his palm, taking care not to spill any on his shimmering waistcoat. "Whatever, it's regal-sounding, and I like to sound regal."

His manager rolled her eyes as she took back the hand sanitizer. "You do realize that makes you a right and proper queen."

"Queen, yes." Magnus waggled his eyebrows at the double entendre. "However, you of all people should know that I'm nowhere near 'proper'".

"I do. And that's why I need you to tone it down tonight."

"Tone what?"

"Your regalia, your Majesty." Jocelyn's voice was teasing, and she reached across the seat to take her client and best friend's hand. "Clary's bringing some friends along."

"Oh, is she now?" Magnus glanced at Jocelyn. She had told him enough about her Olympic figure skater daughter for him to know about her boyfriend, Jace Lightwood, who was also her skating partner. Aside from Clary and a couple others, Magnus had not made direct contact with many Olympic athletes. In fact, he wasn't all that into most sports, the only time he had watched any sort of game being a disastrous date with a basketball player's cousin. Other than Clary and the few of-the-moment stars, he was clueless as to the US Olympic team.

"Well, she's bringing Jace, of course. But she's also friends with Jace's two siblings, Isabelle and Alec. You know them, right?"

Magnus gave her a blank stare.

"You're ridiculous. Here," she said, pulling out her phone and doing a quick search. "Perhaps this will jog your insane memory."

Magnus leaned over to look at the picture on her phone. The two athletes were standing next to each other at what appeared to be some sports magazine photo shoot. The girl with the long black hair was obviously Isabelle, but the young man next to her stood out like a flame: Alec Lightwood, called "America's Superstar" by the press, his face being plastered on billboards and cereal boxes a mere four years ago immediately following the Turin 2006 Winter Olympics. Magnus definitely remembered the slim speed skater, how he had surprised the country by snagging two medals—or was it three?—at his first Olympics, and suddenly Alec was the hugest thing in the country for about two months or so.

Magnus even remembered having an inkling one day as he watched an Ellen interview with Alec, feeling a flashing certainty on his inner radar as he watched the blushing speed skater on television.

Then the post-Olympic fever had died, and Alec, like all the other athletes, had presumably faded back into their insane training schedules amidst ordinary lives. Inkling or not, Olympic athletes always seemed hard to reach for him.

Until now.

Jocelyn turned her phone off and stuffed it away. "So it'll be you, me, Clary, and the three Lightwoods. Please try not to be too intimidating."

Magnus smirked, already thinking of tonight's possibilities and wondering how much champagne he'd need to order from room service. He crossed his legs and gazed out the window, the face in his mind a pale one with dark hair and blue eyes. "Oh, you have nothing to worry about," he said.

Author's Note: So I've made a little return to the site, this time with an AU that I hope everyone can enjoy and ride along with me. (Also, happy first day of TIFF 2013!)

Drop me a review if you have time, but if you don't, I'll love you anyway for just taking the time to read. :)

Chapter Two should be coming soon!