Shadowhunting IRL

Déjà vu

Hey! As agonising as it must've been this past month for the millions (read: one) that eagerly awaited this post, nvm cuz I'm posting now y'all. so that 1 person who hasn't (reasonably) signed this fic off and is still reading can expect saner updates from now.

There was a skinny boy, his perfectly normal brown eyes somehow turning into a channel for everything she felt when she thought of the big headed gestures than singled out earth in the infinite expanse of the cosmos and how one unseen blush hardly mattered and it was lightning but quicksand at the same time and filled with the silhouettes of her perpetually missing parents and now the room was spinning-where was Simon?- but Clary who was something to Simon that no one was to her except perhaps Alec was here. There was Alec's voice-no, Magnus'? where was Simon with his soft straight locks and long white throat and slender hands—and were those...gasps?

Izzy jerked awake; the ghosts of her dream's faint colours overlaid on her open eyes, flaring momentarily to their original hues as her heavy eyelids drooped. Her mind, though, was wide awake. The dream had been scarily real, much more so than her usual ones of sparkling black gowns being knit by shirtless boys holding tiny knitting needles that looked like swords. She grabbed her phone and turned it on, blinking hard when the blue light flared, blindingly bright. Only 11.35 pm.

She'd returned from the station at 7 pm and crashed, ignoring Alec's protests at her skipping dinner. (She'd eaten an apple, anyway. Stolen it, when he was helping Max with his homework and Jace was hanging out with Clary.) It was the first time, the crashing. She'd always been the kind of person to spend about an hour on schoolwork and spend the rest of the evening either at debate or track competitions, or partying. Never had she succumbed to her exhaustion like this, ignoring the fact that it was a Tuesday and that she had school tomorrow. Was this job turning me into a drag?

No.

The night wasn't over. And she was wide awake now.

It was no coincidence that she chose today to let her fatigue get the better of her—the only party was at Maia's, thrown on her birthday. Technically, Izzy was invited. (word of mouth through Simon and BYOB. But still. An invitation was an invitation. And maybe Jordan would be there. Maybe she'd get over the annoying nerd.)

She got out of her pyjamas and pulled on a pair of skinny jeans and lacy black top, weaving her hair out of its braid so it fell in heavy, bouncy curls to her shoulders, for once naturally tired of its usual state of frizz. It immediately made her feel nicer.

The party was already in full swing when she arrived 10 minutes later, Maia's house only being about 20 blocks from her house. It was small, with slightly bohemian décor, but much nicer than she'd expected it to be. She spotted Clary and Jace among the people dancing (there were fewer here than customary at a sophomore's party) with Alec standing next to the TV, his hair an uncharacteristic mess, holding a red solo cup she could've wagered contained lemonade. Magnus was nowhere in sight, probably having gone to fix his hair. Clary saw her at once—maybe the party was yet to peak, still at the build-up stage.

'Hey! Alec didn't tell us you were coming when he texted-didn't you have work?'

'Alec didn't know—I've been planning the dance.' Izzy had volunteered to be in charge of organizing junior prom--though with work, and Simon, and school and track and debate club, she had no idea how she'd keep record of it all in her head. 'But then I figured, screw it, I'll get some inspiration here. Is the beer all out? I brought some.'

'We're good. Jace is trying to swear off alcohol at least till the SATs are over. Wanna come dance?'

Izzy grinned, she couldn't help herself. Clary's smile was infectious, even when she was talking about the most mundane things. (Or in this case, shocking. She'd never seen Jace consider sacrifices necessary before; he ran on even less schoolwork time than she did.) She opened the beer bottle and took a sip. The faint smells of vomit, smoke, and alcoholic breath somehow intensified, like she'd had to get into character to be a part of the party. It felt good already, worries that usually weighed on her mind like stones fading helpfully to the background.

'Where's Maia? It's her party.'

'I don't know. She and Simon went outside some time ago. Probably making out.' Clary widened her eyes meaningfully. Perhaps the no-alcohol rule extended only to Jace; despite what Clary had said, she was clearly not fully sober.

'Oh.' Izzy looked at towards the dancers again; Magnus had appeared, taking Alec's hand and dragging him to where Jace was dancing with another blonde. Izzy caught the blonde's eye—Julie Beauvale, one of the cheerleaders. Izzy knew nothing about her except that her hair was probably fake, and her best friend Beatrice also had a crush on Simon. Dammit, Simon, where are you?

She shook herself mentally: she hadn't come here for Simon. She looked back at Clary; the girl had taken the bottle out of Izzy's hands was now humming to herself. 'ok, you know what? Let's just dance.'

It was further confirmation that Clary was very tipsy (lightweights) when she just shrugged, the movement in sync with another drag of beer. Whatever, Izzy told herself sternly. Just... dance it off. The discomfort. The worry for Alec, who, only the week before, confided to her after constant prodding his fears that he and Magnus would grow apart after college and that he was too much of a wimp to instigate...what should've already have happened between them, before he left. Her burden of courseload. Everything. Everything that wasn't rapidly flashing lights and flushed, twirling bodies and the dirt and puke that came with the delightful numbing of alcohol. She wanted to ignore it all.

The déjà vu hit Izzy several beers and 2 make-out sessions later, when she was dancing with a brunette whose green streaks reminded her of another flash of green as she'd danced at another party—Jordan's Slytherin tee. Despite being a smokeshow, (did people use that word anymore? Izzy was too drunk to care.) he'd turned out to be pretty much a nerd, hadn't he? And it had only made him hotter. He wasn't at this party, though, for some reason. But Simon was.

And she was sick of ignoring that, pushing her feelings down, looking away, clearing her throat and smiling like nothing was wrong every time he was with Maia. Every time she wanted to grab his arms and twine her own around the nape of his neck, where the hair was straight but soft. She could almost see it, his expression; one of dazed wonder. And for good reason, now if she could only find him, look into those earthy eyes—

She blinked. And blinked again to prove the alcohol wrong. But her beer-induced haze had correctly narrowed its focus of recognition; those bottomless yet perfectly ordinary brown eyes that locked with hers suddenly from across the room were really Simon's. She walked up to him. 

Sorry for the ridiculously short chapter, that 1 person still reading this fic--please drop a vote and comment. xo