Stars, Secrets, and Lies

Attendance and Unexpected Events

I thought I knew the residents of the Paris Institute better. Turns out, I'm not as smart as I thought.

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Saturday, June 11th, 2016.

A window to my right let in bright spring light, making my cramped white bathroom seem twice its original size. I was looking into the mirror, desperately trying to blow dry my mass of curls without having my hair take a trip back to the eighties. There was a pounding on the bathroom door, and jumped so badly I nearly burned my forehead with the heated tool. I may be a Shadowhunter, but I seem to be the only one who got left out on the whole "graceful by blood of the angel" bit.

"Hey, are you still alive in there? If not, I am going back downstairs to get the twins to help me haul your body away. I am not doing that by myself," Skylar asked through the door.

So what, I had been locked in my little en-suite bathroom for three hours? A spa day takes time. And a little procrastination never hurt nobody. In the most whiny, irritating voice I could muster, I started complaining. "I don't wanna stay inside doing boring shit today!"

"Daniel, Seth and some random guy are training downstairs."

I dropped the blow dryer, instantly giving up on the task at hand to whip open the door.

"You have my attention," I called, looking around for Skylar. I found her inches from where the door flung open, with an offended look on her pale face.

"Jesus Christ dude! Almost broke my nose! I know that-"

Knowing a joke about my urgency at the mention of random guy, Daniel, and training, in one sentence was coming, I threw on the nicest shirt I could find and raced out the door.

Three flights of stairs later, I was doing up the last button on my shirt while breathing a little too heavily. I bumped into Mae at the entrance of the training room, my head still down and concentrating on slipping the final button through its proper opening. Her head whipped around at contact, her long hair whipping me in the face when I looked up in surprise. Brazilian temper: not to mess with.

"Watching your booooyfriend?" I taunted. Well, not to mess with until you've known her for three years.

"Of course. It's not my fault being a Shadowhunter gives you abs." She said matter-of-factly.

"And PTSD." I muttered, smiling to myself. Mae heard, and I saw the corner of her mouth go up, though her eyes were back on the three figures in the training room. Two were locked in a sword fight, one towering over the other. The clank of metal on metal was harsh on the ears, and the light bouncing off the runed blades was blinding. They moved so fast, it was a matter of seconds before the shorter figure was on his knees, with the tip of his opponent's sword inches from his throat. He slowly brought his hands up as a gesture of surrender, his sword clattering to the ground as he did so. I turned to see Mae beaming, as expected.

The boy who just won- the tall one who looks like he could be on steroids- is Seth. He may seem intimidating in the shadows, but just talking to the guy makes any chance at intimidation disappear. Mae calls him her Spanish teddy bear, which gives you an idea of how soft the man really is. I wouldn't be surprised if Mae was the reason for his soft heart- the two of them are inseparable, the cutest couple in the City of Light. The long sword prodigy and the archery prodigy. It's adorable. Just... don't tell them I said that- I like my head on my neck, fully intact, thank you.

All the permanent residents here at the Paris institute are some sort of teenage prodigy, myself included. The only exceptions we have are Gennaia and Jacques: the stereotypical high-maintenance French woman and the...um, questionable, yet hilarious warlock. Gennaia is the head of the Institute, and the founder of the program the rest of us are in. In total, there's nine of us here year-round, with some visitors here and there. This is Paris after all. Even through Shadowhunter eyes, it's beautiful.