Looks like my Muse decided to be generous today! So here's a new story idea, I hope you guys enjoy and review if you really like it because I'm not sure if I want to continue this or not.

P.S. Hawaii Five-O is on and OMG ALEX O'LOUGHLIN YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS IT IS RIDICULOUS.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SONGS/ALBUMS I MENTION IN THIS STORY UNLESS I SPECIFY OTHERWISE, JUST SO EVERYONE KNOWS! As much as I wish I did, I don't. Nor do I own any of the characters mentioned–even though they seem to haunt my very mind. Sadly, I just own the plot, so I hope you all enjoy it!

Songs:

Obession by Sky Ferreira (A song that Clary wrote with her band that plays while she's walking on stage)

F**k You by Lily Allen (During the interview because this is TOTALLY her attitude the entire time, so if you have virgin ears and don't want to hear swearing…well, I mean, the title itself is a warning.)

"Annnnnnd we're live in five, four, three…" Alec Lightwood counted down from behind his post, spinning in his chair in anticipation. He eagerly watched as the line of cameramen before him prepared themselves to start recording and couldn't help but hop up and down in excitement the moment the tiny red dots all lit up at the same time. If you went up to him on any day–whether or not he was in a good mood–and you asked him whether or not he enjoyed his job as the producer of America's most popular late night talk show, his answer would always be the same: HELL YES!

Unlike most of his counterparts, Alec loved the entire concept of it all: knowing that his show, something he created with his very own sweat, blood and web cam back in the day before it got major views, was ranked number one in America. Sure, maybe more than three quarters of the entire country watched it for the sole reason being the arrogant bastard that was the host, but it was once a dream he came up with during his high school years and he was proud to still have his job after all these years.

However, the talk show host didn't seem to share the same feelings–yes, he did enjoy the fact that it meant he raked in a seven figure paycheck every month and the endless stream of women that always followed him like a shadow. But he didn't like the whole technicality behind it all, which was where Alec came in. Together, they were the perfect pair–they were practically inseparable.

But on this specific day, the host wasn't in too much of a chipper mood. Prior to arrival in the studio, his thirtieth girlfriend demanded he propose to her on said show so that the world could see that he was happily taken, regardless of how many times he told her they weren't serious at all. That, and if he were to marry, he'd lose about a good three quarters of his viewers–something he wasn't ready to give up since he was still in his prime.

So she stormed out in hysterics, which caused his makeup artist to be infuriated at him since the stress was "taking a toll" on his face. But her walking out on him wasn't the reason he was so stressed; no, it was a reason no one would believe in, no matter the conviction in his tone. So he didn't share it with many people, which wasn't too hard since there was a lot people actually didn't know about him, regardless of how many pop culture magazines were out there that "DISHED ON THE HOTTIE WITH A BODY AND A SHOW! TURN TO CENTERFOLD FOR MORE DEETS!"

Plus, faking was part of the job. In fact, most–if not all–jobs in show business required being able to pull off a façade no matter what the job requirements were. Welcome to Plastic-Ville, where no one knows what the word "genuine" means!

Speaking of which, right after the count down, the host plastered on a phony smile and stepped out from his hiding spot behind the curtain that was pulled back to reveal the fake landscape of Manhattan skyline at night that was painted on half-assed so that it looked real on TV, but not in reality. Upon closer inspection, one of the buildings was actually in the midst of peeling off.

The moment he did, a loud uproar welcomed him and for a split second, the host actually felt like he meant something to these people. This moment only lasted for a second, as it did every time the show kicked off, but the host made sure to revel in the applause because it was a complete ego-trip for him. And who didn't like to have their ego stroked every so often?

"Hello everyone!" he bellowed over the audience, causing the cacophony to immediately simmer down. "Welcome to Simply Jace! May you all take a moment to truly marvel that, yes, I am indeed, this stunningly attractive in reality. I don't mind, although the pretty little lady in the third row might need a napkin to wipe the drool off her face."

Jace smirked when the cute brunette flushed as one of the cameras swung to zoom in on her reaction. When Alec frowned a little, Jace shrugged and laughed. Pushing Alec's buttons was a crowd-pleaser, and whether or not Alec liked admitting it, it certainly did make a difference when the views added up.

"But in all seriousness–because regardless of how completely arrogant I can be–we've got a pretty awesome line-up for you gals and guys tonight because instead of having the stereotypical Hollywood airhead actress/actor, we've got some real talent on the show for once! Maybe even a little music from a local band that my producer, Mr. Lightwood, figured would add more to the comic relief because they're honestly a joke"–another dagger eye look from Alec–"but hey, that's just my opinion."

Alec sighed, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air. Yes, working with Jace had its perks, but that certainly didn't mean it didn't have its downsides as well. But hey, the crowd loved him and he couldn't blame them.

"Clary, you're biting your hand off."

Clary spun around, completely taken off guard, and gasped when she took in the shock of black hair, black beady eyes and pale skin. Then the face registered in her mind and she immediately relaxed when her body identified Simon. She had been peering around the curtain to get a glimpse of the studio for the first time while the show was live since she had gotten too caught up with the makeup artist. She implored to add in several pounds of foundation because "any flaws, including freckles, are intensified on HD TV and baby, you've got a lot of ground to cover".

But if she was trying to convince Clary to cover up, she was doing a horrendous job at it. So she opted with doing her own makeup, something that caused the black-haired blue-eyed makeup artist to cry a river. Oh well.

Just thinking of the makeup artist's words made Clary's hands clammy, which made her all the more nervous, which caused her to resort to biting her nails off. And that, in turn, wasn't in her benefit since it not only ruined her freshly painted green nails, but clued Simon in that she was beyond nervous–which she hated the most.

He was her best friend and could read her like a book, if she allowed herself to show emotion. However, despite how many years he'd known her, he never reacted the way she wished he would when he could decode her moods. Sometimes, his humorous way of looking at things worked, but most of the time she just wished he knew the right time to say the right words to say and how to say them instead of trying to change the topic or joking around. Most of the time, it annoyed her, like right now. She was sick of it, but she knew that deep down inside of her, she loved the kid to death.

"Gee thanks, Simon," she snapped, unable to reign in her emotions. "I would've never known that if it weren't for your impeccable observational skills. Clearly, they're on par, especially right now."

Simon narrowed his eyes behind his glasses and leaned in closer, his lips a tight seam. "You know they say sarcasm is only a sign that a person is insecure about himself or herself," he whispered. "And I know you, Clary. You're just being rude to me because you're nervous you're going to mess up tonight."

She gulped audibly, but he was too into his speech to notice. "And let me tell you, Clary, that we have practiced so damn hard that messing up a single note is impossible. Okay? So don't freak out. You're amazing." Simon smiled sheepishly with gleaming eyes.

Clary had to admit that this was one of the few rare times Simon knew exactly what to say and bit her lower lip to prevent a huge smile from spreading over her face. "Thanks Simon," she giggled, pulling him in for a hug. Simon wrapped an arm around her and gently squeezed back, kissing the top of her forehead before pulling back.

"Your interview is coming up," Simon sighed. "Prepare yourself for Mr. Asshat Extraordinaire!"

"I'll try," Clary snorted, folding her arms across her chest. "But you know I hate this guy."

Simon winced. "Try to be nice to him, for our band. Okay? Think of him as the stepping stone; soon, maybe Jay Leno will be begging to interview us!"

Clary made a gagging gesture, eliciting a laugh from Simon, before she heard her cue–the audience cheering while the chorus of their hit single "Obsession" started playing. Clary felt her face flush and flashed Simon a nervous smile before swallowing her pride and stepping out from the shadows.

The light was near blinding and she had to blink a few times before her eyes adjusted themselves. Throwing the cameras a shy smile, she waved a few times as she walked over to the massive oak desk where Jace stood, looking quite debonair in his black tuxedo with his spine erect with his hands folded behind his back and a smirk playing on his lips.

"Hi," she said sheepishly, sticking her hand out. He grabbed one of her hands and did what Clary never expected him to do: bending slightly at the waist, he drew her hand to his lips and barely grazed her knuckles with his lips before dropping her hand. She felt her face heat up and was rendered wordless as she stumbled into one of the massive red cushion chairs.

"So nice to finally have you on my show," Jace smiled, and for a second, Clary almost believed he was sincere. But the moment her eyes locked on his, she knew it was all an act. Being the only girl in a basically all-boy band gave her the upper hand since it meant she stuck around long enough to observe boys and how they reacted in certain situations. And right now, Jace was giving her a look Eric–another band mate–gave his mom whenever she got angry at him for having the band over too late. It was a sincere enough smile to go unnoticed if you weren't really reading into the expression–which was borderline disgust, Clary could tell–with a mischievous glint in his eyes that clued her in that Jace probably had some ulterior motive by having her on his show; one that she wasn't all too eager to find out about.

"So nice to finally be on your show," Clary simpered. She reclined into the chair and flashed him an innocuous smile when a few of the audience members cracked up at her joke. Clary knew she hit home by the vein that twitched in his temple.

But if it truly bothered him, it didn't show. "Yes, well, blame my producer." Clary watched as a cameraman swung the camera to waste another three seconds of air time filming Alec roll his eyes before swinging back onto her.

She watched this show once, but took away enough in that one episode: one thing being that Alec and Jace bantering was once a main supplement of the show that quickly dissolved into the two of them exchanging funny looks. Clary didn't know why the bantering stopped; in her humble opinion, it was one of the funnier aspects she would definitely be into if it weren't for Jace being more into himself than the banter.

"Anyway," Jace leaned back as well, steepling his fingers as if in deep thought, and tossed her a careless smile. "Tell me about your newest album The Burdens Of Being Upright. What was your inspiration for the album title, and the songs written on it? And don't say me, because I cannot tell you how many times I've been told that."

Jace tilted his head towards the nearest camera and winked at it, causing Clary to shudder internally in disgust. She couldn't believe that this had to be the first live interview and it was with the one boy she hated most. She knew Jace and Alec way before they were famous since they all went to the same high school–all of them skipping college coincidentally to follow their aspirations, whether it be having a famous TV show or being in a rising band–but it seems as if the past year after graduation, Jace hadn't change much. Nope, he was still the same full-of-himself wisecrack he was back in Raziel High.

Regardless, Clary had to suck it up, plaster a huge smile on her face and try to warm up to Jace, if only to take one for the team so that he'd only support her instead of destroy her on national television in the very same way she'd destroyed him back in their schooling days.

"I actually came up with the title," Clary flushed, busying her hands by knotting them in her lap. "I feel like many people believe that in order to succeed in life, we're supposed to fill in a certain criteria and believe it or not, it really puts a lot of pressure on us kids to do things we don't want to do just to 'be successful' when really, that's not entirely the case."

"Oh, it isn't now?" Jace smirked, thoroughly amused, as he leaned in closer. "Would you care to explain?"

Clary narrowed her eyes imperceptibly and had to pause for a second to breathe. "Well, yeah. Look at you. You didn't go to college and look how successful you've become, Mr. Number one in America."

Clary could tell this appeased Jace by the look of approval he gave her before he tossed the camera another wink. She couldn't help but notice how he never once directly looked at her for longer than a few minutes before turning to look away. Unable to stop herself, Clary felt her cheeks burn and hoped to God whatever the makeup artist said about HD TV wasn't true.

"You do have a point," Jace chuckled. "And look at yourself, Miss Rising Star. I will admit, Obsession happens to be my most played song on my iTunes with its catchy beat and true lyrics, so I'll give credit where credit is due."

Clary choked. Was he…was he actually complimenting her? Had he gone completely mental? Clary surreptitiously pinched her wrist when the camera was still focused on Jace's enormous ego and hoped it took up the entire screen so no one would see her flinch when the pinch felt very much real.

"Although to my disappointment," Jace went on, "I hear you'll be playing a new song for us, one you've written about a month ago so it didn't make your album?"

"Yeah," Clary smiled from ear-to-ear, excitement taking over. "I really am excited to perform it since I've worked so hard on it along with the guys."

"It must be tough," Jace mused, "being the only girl in band."

"Not really," she shrugged. "I get that an awful lot, but the guys are awesome. I grew up with them, so it's like they're all my brothers in a way. My mom always used to ask, 'when did I give birth to four more boys?' as a joke because they would always come over after school." Not that you didn't know that already, she mentally added.

Jace smiled, looking genuine for once with what Clary thought was regret in his eyes, until the look was gone a second later, leaving her to doubt her eyes. "Does being the only girl make you the one in charge, or is there someone else in charge?"

"I wouldn't say 'in charge'," Clary said tentatively, adding in the air quotes for emphasis, "but being the only girl does have its downsides, like I can't really talk about boys with them."

"Don't you have any girlfriends to talk about that with?"

"Not really," Clary laughed, more at the fact that Jace had to pretend he didn't know this than the question itself. "I've always been a tomboy and as a result, girls didn't get along with me. Sure, the guys have had their fair share of girls, but none of them are like me since they always come and go. I always stick around because they treat me like a guy."

"Well, you certainly don't look like a guy now," Jace chuckled, gesturing to her gold off-the-shoulder sequined top, silver leggings and of course, gold Nike shoes–an outfit her band picked out for her, strangely enough. With no girlfriends, it was hard to pick out anything remotely fashionable, especially when all you had to consult on second opinions were a bunch of leery-eyed meat-heads who were high believers in "the more skin, the better".

"I sure hope so," Clary frowned. "I worked hard on picking out this outfit!" Despite her honesty, the audience roared with laughter, probably thinking she was kidding when she was being serious. But Clary didn't mind; she liked the fact that the audience was warming up to her. Now if only they actually got to hear me sing…

"Well," Jace leaned in again, "if it helps, I think the effort was worth it."

Clary felt her breath catch. She knew he flirted with most of his female guests, but the tone in his voice brought back enough memories to keep her throat closed up, just for a second. Then she managed to collect herself a second later, plastering a coy smile on her face. "Thanks."

And with that said, Jace turned his entire body towards the nearest camera, signaling the interview was over as he announced that the show was going into commercial break. When Alec announced that they weren't filming anymore, Clary let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding in the entire time.

"Nerves?" Jace chuckled from beside her, causing Clary to look up at him…and poorly attempt to stifle her laughter when she noticed the makeup artist was applying what looked like bronzer onto his face.

"Y-you could say that," Clary gasped in between laughing fits.

"Jace!" the makeup artist shrieked, a sponge saturated in bronzer expertly angled an inch away from his cheekbones in her hand. "Will you stop frowning? You have to wait a few seconds before you can move!"

"Izzy," Jace snorted impatiently. "I told you, no bronzer. Now I'm going to look ridiculous in front of a million viewers when my skin starts to look like it's falling off!"

The corner of Izzy's lip twitched, threatening to turn into a smile. "Oh? That so? Oopsie."

"ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD!" he roared just as Alec called her name. Izzy's head jerked up and with a quick "wait one moment", she ran off to her brother's side.

"I'm going to chop all her hair off and glue it to her face," Jace scowled as he gazed into the compact and attempted to rub the slightly darker half of his skin off with a wet rag.

"Lovely," Clary said, crinkling her nose. "You've missed a spot, by the way."

Jace's head snapped up. "Where?"

With a sigh, Clary heaved herself off the chair, plucked the rag out of his hands and leaned in to swipe off the bronzer near his hairline despite his protests. "If this is her doing makeup, then I'd hate to see her with a bunch of paint cans and a blank canvas."

"Welcome to my world," Jace snorted. "Is it off now?"

Taking a step back, Clary looked over him once more before nodding. "Thank you so much," Jace sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I owe you one, big time."

"Do you now?" Clary smirked as the realization of his words hit him, but before he could protest, Clary felt someone yank on her freehand and spun around to see Simon on the other end of her hand.

"C'mon Clary," Simon urged. "We're going back on in a minute, and we kind of need to do a quick mic check. Eric screwed up the equipment…again."

"Ugh, again?" Clary whined, throwing Jace a quick 'help-me' look before letting Simon drag her back to the set.

Fortunately for the band's sake, Eric's horrible footing only affected the guitar's plug into the amp, so nothing irreplaceable was broken. After a quick tune-up, the band was ready to go right when the commercials were over with.

Barely able to focus on anything, Clary felt the raw adrenaline bubbling in her stomach and she tightly gripped onto the mic stand to stop herself from passing out with anxiety. This wasn't her first gig, so she had originally thought that maybe performing live wouldn't be too hard since she'd performed with her band for quite some time in clubs or bars. But she might as well have never performed ever in her entire life because those very same butterflies that took up residency in her stomach the first time she'd ever performed in her life in front of her school as Belle in Beauty and the Beast in a school play in the second grade–the only moment she'd ever actually cried and wet herself in public view in her entire life–were now currently in her stomach.

"Clary," Simon whispered from beside her, leaning across his keyboard to whisper into her ear. "Nay nay, Kaye." Don't worry, Clary.

Hearing Simon's comforting code words they had come up with since they were kids and barely knew a word in English immediately relaxed Clary. Closing her eyes, Clary smiled and whispered back, "Nay nay, Saye." Don't worry, Simon.

Clary: I actually kind of like this idea.

Me: I agree, it's a little less chaotic.

Jace: Where is the angst? The tortured romance fantasies? The overall girly-ness that I feed off of?

Me: It's coming, it's coming! Just wait for the reviews!

Simon: No more kissing, please. I beg you!

Me: It isn't a story if there aren't any kissing scenes :)

*Simon blanches*

Izzy: You're a true sadist by making me cry all the time.

Alec: I'm not complaining.

*Izzy chucks a shoe at Alec*

Me: Hey, don't kill yourselves...yet!

REVIEW IF YOU WANT TO CONTINUE!