Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

THE LIGHTWOODS’ DARK TRUTH: Isabelle Lightwood’s fall from grace, a darling actress turned scandal

If there was one thing Izzy liked about LA, it was the beach.

The people, the paparazzi, the constant thirst for fame, she could have done without, but the beach on a quiet day? There was nothing in New York that could compare to the peace she felt when she closed her eyes, listened to the waves, and knew she was completely, utterly alone.

Of course, like everything she loved, it hadn’t been long before the paparazzi and media had gotten their hands on this little fact about her. They’d pounced on it and sprung up hundreds of theories within the day: she went to the beach to do drugs, she met up with her paramours and debauched them publicly, she wore the skimpiest bikinis to flaunt what she had and make a spectacle of herself…

It had become so exhausting that she’d stopped going altogether.

She might have been the one to start the rumors about herself, and she’d known there would be consequences to her actions when she’d set out to ruin her reputation, but it was still utterly miserable to see her name get dragged through the mud.

So, when Simon – lovely, kind, sweet Simon – had shyly told her about the party he was hosting at his private, beachfront house, she’d jumped on the opportunity.

The party was still in full swing just a couple of feet behind her, but she’d blocked out the majority of the sound when she’d slipped through the back door and buried her feet in the sand.

Her head was tilted up towards the moon, her eyes closed, her mind stuck on the thousands of choices that had led her to this exact moment, finding peace in the most unexpected of places.

A cool breeze caressed her skin, and Izzy let out a contented sigh.

The weather in LA had been surprisingly similar to the heat she was used to in New York, but she missed the occasional day of rain and wind and an overcast sky that deterred the paparazzis and gave her a chance to live her life freely. Now that September was slowly giving way to October, the temperatures were settling and the wind was slowly making a reappearance.

If she hadn’t been constantly weighed down by her parents’ disappointed messages, the press’ obsession with her career, and the stress of finding an agent who wouldn’t balk at the rumors she’d spun around herself, perhaps she could have enjoyed it properly.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t think anyone else would be out here!”

Izzy didn’t startle easily. She’d grown up with three brothers who lived to annoy her, and she’d spent enough years in the industry to get used to sudden noises.

So, if anyone asked her if she’d startled when she’d heard the angelic voice coming from above her, she would deny it until her dying breath. She would tell them she’d sat up gracefully, opened her eyes, squinted in the darkness, and calmly looked at the person in front of her.

Only the angel would know the truth.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The angel said, and Izzy finally calmed her pounding heart enough to pivot and lay eyes on the person who’d interrupted her perfectly fine, relaxing evening.

Then promptly forgot how to breathe.

Standing in front of her was a girl about her age with cascading ginger hair, pale skin that glittered in the moonlight, and a smile bright enough to rival the sun. She was the most beautiful person Izzy had ever seen.

And she was looking at Izzy with her lips parted and eyes wide, as though she’d just been struck.

“Um,” Izzy said, mentally hitting herself for her complete lack of charm. She was usually much better at this. Much, much better. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the angel giggled. Izzy’s throat went dry. “I said that already, didn’t I? Sorry, my head’s clearly somewhere else. Do you mind if I join you? I usually come out here when Si starts rambling about his nerd stuff with the rest of his friends, but I’ve never run into anyone before. I don’t think I’ve seen you around. Are you a new friend of his?”

“A new friend of…” Izzy shook her head to clear her thoughts. Si. Right. “Oh, yeah. Simon and I met a few weeks ago, and I think he took pity on me since I’m new to the area.”

“Really?” The angel asked, her eyes wide. “Lucky you.”

Izzy blinked.

“Lucky?”

“I’ve been stuck here for as long as I can remember,” the angel shrugged. “I’d love to leave, go somewhere new, travel the world, explore everything I never had a chance to discover as a kid. I was born in New York, but the memories of those first few years are blurry now. All my heart’s ever known is LA.”

A few months ago, Izzy would have jumped on the mention of New York. She would have forged a connection based on their shared place of birth, would have told this beautiful girl all about the city, the things she loved, the things she hated.

But New York wasn’t hers anymore.

“That can be good too,” Izzy said softly. “It’s easy to convince yourself there’s more to the world than what you know, but living it? I don’t know. I–”

She’d thrown everything away almost half a year ago, and she’d yet to stop regretting it.

“Pretty jaded for someone in LA,” the angel chuckled. Izzy met her gaze and saw nothing but pure amusement and curious joy in those hazel depths. Not a hint of malice or judgment. Most importantly, not even a flicker of recognition. “This is the city of dreams! Actors and singers and creatives from all around come here to find where they belong. I’m almost certain throwing caution to the wind is the city’s motto.”

Izzy didn’t answer.

The truth was, LA’s reputation was the reason she’d moved to the west coast when New York had become too overwhelming. It wasn’t much better, considering her parents’ influence and the fame that trailed behind her menacingly, but she’d clung to the idea of a new dream with both hands fisted.

She’d been high off her fall from grace, and throwing caution to the wind – as the angel so perfectly put it – had been an easy decision.

“Is that why you’re friends with Simon?” Izzy asked instead. “Chasing some big dreams? I’ve seen the company he keeps, and they’re all as ambitious as he is, reaching for the stars and settling for anything in between.”

“Ha,” the angel scoffed. “Si loves taking credit for my work, but I’m the one who sparked all that inspiration and endless motivation. We’re childhood best friends and, if it wasn’t for me, Simon would still be stuck hanging out with his old high school band. Though– I guess he does still hang out with them. But now they actually get an audience during their gigs.”

“He’s doing good,” Izzy hummed, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Ever since she’d met him, Simon had been Izzy’s light in the dark. He’d taken a seat next to her at the minor awards show they’d both been nominated for, and it felt like he hadn’t left her side since then. He kept her company on set when others whispered behind her back, he invited her out when he thought she looked lonely, and he cheered her on every time she wrapped up one of her scenes. Sharing space with him was a little like being trusted with a ray of sunshine.

She loved it. She loved him. She loved herself when she was with him.

“So, how did you and Si meet?” the angel asked her. “Not to be nosy or anything, but that boy can’t meet anyone without making the strangest of impressions. What was it with you? Did he spill coffee all over your favourite outfit? Accidentally insult your boss? Perform one of his less successful attempts at songwriting?”

Izzy couldn’t help but laugh a little at the picture of Simon this woman was painting. She’d known him for such a short amount of time, in the grand scheme of things, and yet she could imagine each of those encounters in vivid detail. Simon, who stumbled over his words until they mattered the most, and who couldn’t hold himself upright unless he thought no one was looking at him.

“It was an awards’ show,” Izzy answered honestly. “He sat next to me because he was late and I was alone, and then proceeded to try to tie his tie on the spot. Apparently, he was running some errands for his sister before the show and barely had time to get into his suit before he got to the venue.”

“Did he make you tie it?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” the woman-angel giggled. “His tale may have well been true, knowing Si, but he also doesn’t know the steps needed to properly tie a tie. He would have needed your help even if he’d been an hour early. I find myself dreaming of the day when he’ll be famous and adored, just so he can have employees to sort his outfits out for him. As it is now, I’m essentially his unpaid assistant.”

Izzy couldn’t blame him. She would never want to take advantage of the angel and, unlike Simon, she had more than enough money to pay for an assistant, but to lay eyes on such a lovely woman all day long? It wasn’t being trusted with a ray of sun; it was being handed the whole sky and told all it needed to survive was admiration. Izzy would gladly do that if the angel let her.

“I think–”

“Oh goodness, I just realized I didn’t even introduce myself,” the angel gasped before Izzy could finish her sentence – compliment? “I’m Clary. Clary Fray.”

“Clary,” Izzy murmured, the name flowing from her lips like she’d been waiting for it her whole life. “I’m Izzy.”

“Izzy?” Clary frowned, and Izzy instantly regretted sharing the truth.

She loved Simon, but she couldn’t have expected him not to mention that he was working with Isabelle Lightwood. If Clary truly was one of his closest friends, then he surely shared everything with her.

Still, the idea of losing her anonymity, this feeling of peace in the midst of chaos, the comfortable space she’d let Clary into, made her heart clench. A pang of loss preemptively hit her. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for the questions. The curiosity. The conspicuous prodding about her private life.

“You’re the one who told him to contact Santiago!” Clary exclaimed, and Izzy’s heart started again. “When he told me he’d found a way to get in touch with Raphael Santiago, of all people, I couldn’t believe him. Like, literally didn’t believe him. Si is amazing, but we’re normal people. We don’t have parents and friends and contacts everywhere in the world, you know? Santiago… Well, nothing concrete has been decided between them yet, but the fact that Si could even get a meeting with him in the first place? I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Izzy blinked, stared at Clary, then let out an involuntary laugh. She shook her head at Clary’s confused gaze, forcing herself to calm down and continue their conversation in a manner that didn’t involve delirious laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she told Clary. “You’re right, I am the one who told Simon to talk to Raphael. I have… contacts in the industry, and it only seemed fair to give Simon a true shot instead of watching him over perform in the roles and opportunities he’s been handed so far. Raphael will judge Simon fairly.”

He would have judged Izzy fairly, too, but she’d categorically refused his help when he’d reached out to her. He’d been eager to have her on the West Coast and had insisted he would love nothing more than to be her agent, but Izzy had turned it down without a second’s hesitation.

She wasn’t worried about Raphael’s reputation. In fact, booking someone like her would have most likely raised his status in the spheres he liked to frequent. However, Izzy needed an agent that her family wouldn’t be able to reach out to, and Raphael – though he would never betray her secrets – was unfortunately linked to the Lightwoods in more ways than one

But the true reason she’d refused Raphael’s offer had been a simple one: he liked multi-talents, people who dipped their toes into music as much as they did into acting.

Izzy didn’t sing anymore.

“– working with him on a project right now?”

Izzy tuned back into Clary’s idle chatter and grimaced apologetically when she realized she’d stopped paying attention to the other woman. Clary only smiled sunnily at her, waiting for Izzy’s brain to catch up to her latest question.

“I am,” she finally said. “I don’t think he likes it much more than I do, though he’d never admit to it out loud. He’d be better suited to comedy and musical dramas than this procedural stuff.”

“Si’s wonderful at everything,” Clary waved her off, and Izzy tilted her head to the side in acknowledgement.

“Of course he is,” she agreed. “But there’s a difference between being wonderful and being happy. I’m sure Raphael will notice it instantly. I give it two years before Simon is being cast in movies and shows that truly suit him rather than these entry-level jobs.”

“Is that true for you, too?” Clary asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity. “Entry-level jobs until Santiago can push you into the roles you most love?”

“Ah,” Izzy winced. She looked away from Clary and back at the ocean, which lapped at the sand calmly. A peaceful backdrop for a conversation Izzy had desperately avoided for the past few months. She supposed it was better than being backed into a corner by overzealous reporters. “Not quite. I’m– taking a break from other projects until I can find an agent that suits my needs. Raphael doesn’t represent me.”

“Oh, sorry,” Clary frowned. “Who represented you before?”

“Starkweather,” Izzy answered blandly.

Of all the things she didn’t regret leaving behind, Starkweather was at the top of her list, second only to her parents and their relentless demands.

“Holy shit,” Clary’s eyes widened. “The Lightwoods’ agent?”

Izzy had to bite back another laugh.

She wondered how Clary could know her family’s name, be so invested in the acting scene, have an understanding of their industry, and yet not know what she looked like.

Or had she truly changed that much since she’d last featured in a show? The last one she’d filmed was still airing, pictures of a smiling face she no longer recognised appearing on billboards, shadowed by Alec and Jace.

They’d done a good job of pushing her to the back of their promotional material, easily distracting the public with her prettier, more acceptable brothers. They couldn’t erase her role in the show without ruining the storyline, and they couldn’t afford to cancel the season either, but she knew they’d done everything in their power to relegate her to the sidelines.

Regardless, even with the changes in her attitude and the decisions made to exclude her from promotional material, there was– everything else.

The tabloids, the gossip, the pictures taken by paparazzi when she dropped her guard even for a minute.

“Clary,” she said seriously, turning away from the ocean to meet Clary’s green eyes. They were beautiful up close. They stared at her now, confusion warring with something clever and searching. “Simon must be looking for you.”

“This may come as a shock, but Simon has other people to occupy him right now,” Clary snorted. “I’m quite certain he’s engaged in some… entertainment right now. I wouldn’t worry about him.”

“Well,” Izzy cleared her throat. “Regardless. I’m sure your other friends will be missing you.”

“You know, there was a rumor that Isabelle Lightwood had been spotted around here,” Clary said, the non-sequitur sending panic racing down Izzy’s back. “I can’t believe Simon didn’t tell me your full name! He knows I don’t engage in all that nonsensical gossip.”

Izzy pursed her lips, wrenching her gaze back to the ocean and shuffling a few inches to her left, away from Clary.

“Woah, none of that,” Clary huffed. “Seriously, do you think someone who couldn’t recognize you on sight is going to suddenly go around spreading whatever secrets you think you’ve shared with me? First of all, I have about as much memory as a goldfish, and though I tried very hard to hang on to your every word, I’m afraid I’ve already forgotten half of what we talked about. Second of all, the only reason I’m pissed at Simon for not sharing more details about you is because you’re– Well, I’m sure you hear it plenty, but you’re quite stunning.”

Izzy did hear it quite often.

She never heard it out of the lips of angels, though. Coming from Clary, the words felt warmer, more significant, as though she’d turned a simple descriptor into something that could solve all of Izzy’s problems.

Stunning.

“So, the infamous Isabelle Lightwood prefers spending time on the beach to… whatever’s going on in there? If that’s the case, the media is greatly exaggerating your more daring behaviors.”

“Daring behaviors is a very kind way of putting that,” Izzy snorted, amused despite herself.

Despite the recognition now lighting Clary’s eyes, it didn’t seem to have triggered anything specific within the woman. No worship, no disgust, not even the hint of apprehension she’d seen in some of her New York friends’ eyes after her first scandal had gotten out.

“Ah, well you know how it is in LA,” Clary chuckled. “Drugs and sex are old news. It’s not like your actions hurt anyone.”

A categorical lie, but not one Izzy was willing to delve into right then and there.

“Besides, isn’t there a saying about publicity? All publicity is good publicity, or whatever?” Clary continued, undeterred by Izzy’s startled silence. “My mom would disagree, but I think Simon would definitely be with me on this one. We’ve been wading in the nothingness of low-level acting for over a year now, and if a scandal is what it took to land us something different, I don’t think either of us would turn down the opportunity.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Izzy snorted dryly. “It’s a little exhilarating at first, but overall not worth the hassle.”

“Ah, but I bet the exhilaration was unbelievably freeing,” Clary said wistfully. “Besides, isn’t that what the acting world is supposed to be like? Scandal and risk and doing whatever it takes to get to the top?”

It was strange, Izzy thought, to hear her parents’ mentality be spoken in such a gentle, hopeful way.

“Is that how you want to get there?” Izzy asked, genuinely curious. A furrow appeared between Clary’s brows at the question, invisible shadows dulling the brilliance of her eyes for a few seconds.

“No,” Clary finally answered. “I guess not. It just feels like sometimes, being good only gets you so far.”

Izzy didn’t answer. Being good had gotten her so very far. So far that Alec had started breaking under the pressure, so far that Jace had stopped talking to them for weeks at a time, lost in his head, incapable of talking about what was bothering him. So far that Izzy had looked at her face on posters and gone to sleep crying, incapable of recognising who she was when she looked in a mirror.

“But then again,” Clary shook whatever darkness had taken over her away, her smile illuminating the space between them, “it’s never really about being good or bad, is it? All it takes is talent and enough connections to get by. You’re lucky in that way.”

And yet Izzy couldn’t help but feel as though Clary’s earlier statement of her luck had been closer to the truth. Flying to LA, starting over, discovering the world? Those things, despite the baggage that came with them, were a blessing.

The connections she’d been born with? Oh, they were a privilege, but they were also a vice she would never truly be free of.

However…

“Speaking of connections,” she said carefully, wondering what was prompting this sudden line of thinking. Was it a strange burst of generosity, an overwhelming sense of guilt over the things she could have had but constantly rejected, or simply the way her heart seemed to skip a beat every time Clary smiled at her? “I know someone who might be able to help you out, if that’s something you wanted. I couldn’t work with her for many reasons, but she’s fair and good and probably better suited to you than someone like Raphael. If you showed me some of your work in previous gigs, perhaps I could–”

She was cut off by the feeling of Clary’s arms wrapping around her neck and the sound of an excited squeal just inches away from her ear.

“I’ll show you whatever you need to see!” Clary grinned. “And we’ll have to look at some of your stuff, too! Simon’s been harping at me to get more involved in the industry but honestly, I can never focus on movies for too long. But perhaps if I have company…”

Izzy blinked at Clary.

Their conversation had been nice, devoid of any expectations, and surprisingly tolerable despite the lingering awkwardness Izzy felt whenever someone knew about the many questionable things she’d done in the past few months.

Bringing up Tessa, the kind-hearted but serious agent whom Izzy had had the pleasure of working with in the past during her contracts on the West Coast, had been an offering. A piece of their world that Izzy was able to give to Clary to get rid of some of the guilt she still felt whenever she remembered what she’d left behind in New York. What she’d ruined.

But now, looking at Clary, who was gazing at her with those hopeful green eyes, her warm hands pressing against her shoulders, Izzy felt her mouth go dry.

Company.

She’d avoided it so cautiously, determined not to drag anyone down with her as she struggled to recover from her scandalous decisions. Simon was supposed to be an exception, if only because Izzy found him endearing, but Clary–

“Please?” Clary fluttered her eyelashes at her, and Izzy swallowed thickly. The smirk tugging at Clary’s lips made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing. “You said yourself that you’re new to the area, so I know you could use a friend, especially since Simon is so ridiculously busy all the time. I, on the other hand, keep my schedule very free. So free, in fact, that weekly movie nights would be the simplest thing to organize. If I had a friend to enjoy them with, that is.”

Perhaps Izzy had been a little hasty in calling her an angel, and yet–

She nodded, and watched as delight brightened Clary’s features, all hints of mischief vanishing from her face.

It was enchanting, and Izzy was under her spell.

“Perfect,” Clary whispered, squeezing Izzy’s shoulders one last time before retreating entirely. “This is going to be the best friendship you’ve ever experienced! Believe me, even Simon can’t live up to my high standards.”

And Izzy, staring at the woman who was perhaps just a little bit angelic, believed her.

Chapter Text

CLARY FRAY IN A RESTLESS TRUTH: Beloved young actress’s fans express disappointment over the risqué project

“Yes mom, I’m taking care of myself,” Clary huffed, jamming her phone between her head and her shoulder as she rifled through her bag, looking for her apartment keys. Her fingers closed around various papers, wrappers and miscellaneous objects before finally identifying her favourite keychain.

“I saw the headlines this morning, Clary, and–”

“Mom,” Clary rolled her eyes, inserting her key into the lock and pushing it open with a content sigh. The smell of vanilla floated through the air, her preferred candle lit on the kitchen’s countertop. “The headlines were always going to be divided. Besides, I didn’t think you, of all people, would pay them any heed.”

“I know how hard it can be for your fans to turn on you so suddenly,” her mother insisted, her voice anxious.

Clary hated that she couldn’t be angry at her mother for her worries without sounding like an ungrateful child. She understood why her mom was cautious when it came to gossip and news and industry drama, but Clary wasn’t a kid anymore. She knew what she could handle.

“My true fans aren’t turning on me,” Clary pointed out. “Just the homophobic ones. I promise you, there’s no love lost between us. They’ll get over it, or they won’t, and I’ll have more time to dedicate to the fans who actually care about the issues that matter to me. The industry will never fully welcome queer women into their arms if we don’t continue setting an example.”

It was an argument they’d had dozens of times over the past year. As soon as Clary’s role in The Last Binding had taken her from supporting character to lead actress, her mother had called her every other day in distress about the headlines, her fans, the people of the industry, her agent, her fellow actors…

It didn’t seem to matter that the controversy was contained and mostly harmless: in her mother’s eyes, even a hint of bad publicity was cause for concern.

“You know how I feel about you being a figurehead, Clary,” her mother said softly, and Clary closed her eyes, briefly asking the forces above for patience and grace as she dealt with her misguided parent. “If your father–”

“And look at that, it seems as though Izzy’s home already, so I really should go,” Clary cut her off.

Her mother let out a shaky breath on her end of the phone but didn’t protest any further. They exchanged short, tense goodbyes, and Clary felt herself relaxing as she hung up, her mother’s trembling voice disappearing all at once.

She centered herself, following the breathing techniques her therapist had recommended when she’d first talked about the overwhelming anxiety that clawed at her heart every time her mother brought up vestiges of the past that she would have preferred to forget about entirely.

“Hey.”

The voice that greeted her was a balm to her heart and soul. Even with her eyes closed, Clary could see Izzy’s soft smile, could feel her stepping closer and stepping inches away from her, never touching but standing as a reassuring pillar in the midst of Clary’s foggy mind. When she nodded, Izzy reached out and placed warm hands on either side of Clary’s face, the touch seeping any remaining tension from her.

She sagged into her girlfriend’s arms, letting Izzy envelop her entirely. She smelled like honey and sage, and Clary inhaled deeply, finally snaking her arms out to circle Izzy’s neck.

When she pulled away from her girlfriend, she was instantly rewarded with a soft press to her lips, Izzy’s mouth gentle and inviting as she let Clary take the lead. Clary gladly complied, kissing her girlfriend until her heart felt light again.

Only then did she fully step away, her mouth forming a small pout that earned herself one last, brief peck. It was a familiar dance between the two of them, Clary acted put-upon that their kiss was already over in order to get Izzy to touch her once more. Her girlfriend didn’t mind her antics in the slightest, always happy to answer Clary’s demands as enthusiastically as possible.

“How was filming today?” Clary asked as they settled on their sofa, Clary resting against Izzy’s chest, their legs intertwined.

“Same as always,” Izzy sighed. “Maia’s great, but I know some of the others aren’t as sure about my presence on set. There’s always this weird tension when I walk into a room, you know?”

“I know,” Clary murmured, because she did. She’d been on set with Izzy once or twice before, either as a supporting role or as a friend when she wasn’t busy with filming and promotions of her own. Even years after the scandal, people struggled to separate the person Izzy had been then – the person she’d let them believe she was – and the woman Clary loved, who wanted nothing more than to be liked.

“Lily thinks I should ignore it,” Izzy groaned. “That they might just be getting into character, or that they might simply not know what to make of me. The word ‘reputation’ was probably used at least ten times in our conversation. My favorite.”

Clary hummed noncommittally.

“What?” Izzy asked shortly. Clary couldn’t see her, but she could imagine the furrow between her brows, the pursing of her lips. Her eyes would be swirling with righteous frustration. It was a beautiful sight, but usually a sign of trouble for Clary.

“I just– Have you talked to Lily about how you really feel?” Clary kept her voice soft, the familiar argument buzzing around them uncomfortably even as Izzy stroked soothing fingers through Clary’s hair. “I know you’re not sure how to broach the topic, but perhaps it would be easier for her to understand what you want if you actually spoke to her about it for once.”

“Lily knows what I want,” Izzy replied tensely. Clary knew she was trying hard not to snap. “She’s gotten me this far, hasn’t she?”

This far. All the way to huge anticipated releases, to adaptations that fans had been demanding for years, to shows and movies that would put her back in the spotlight.

To roles that she hated.

Clary didn’t say anything. It was a conversation she wouldn’t win, and adding fuel to the fire would only push Izzy into one of her sullen moods. Because, truthfully, both of them knew Clary was right, and that Izzy’s protests were a careful attempt at hiding how much more she wanted, how hurt she felt every time someone turned away from her because of her name and the reputation she’d spent years trying to cultivate.

“I’m sorry,” Izzy said softly a few minutes later, her body relaxing once more. “I don’t– I’m sorry. I should know better than to bring Lily up only to then hold your opinions against you. You know I appreciate everything you do for me, right?”

“Of course,” Clary smiled as she tipped her head back against Izzy’s shoulder and looked up at those beautiful brown eyes that had drawn her in all those years ago. They were even prettier now, looking down at Clary with nothing but love, affection, and the smallest hint of an apology.

“And what about your day?” Izzy asked quietly, her eyes roving over Clary’s face as though trying to pry the truth from her before Clary could cover it in gentle, carefully-picked words. “That was your mother on the phone?”

Clary hummed in agreement.

“About the headlines?”

“Yeah,” Clary answered. “She’s worried, not that that’s anything new. She wonders if I made the right decision when I chose to continue with my contract. I think she would have liked it better if I’d stayed in the teens’ and young adults’ sphere for a while longer. She’s never said it outright, but she’s–”

“Not very subtle?” Izzy teased her, her lips curled into an amused smile. “Yeah, Jocelyn’s never been the queen of surreptitiously sharing her concerns. How did you feel about what she said?”

“I don’t know,” Clary sighed, leaning further against Izzy’s warm body. Sometimes, when her mother’s words grew overbearing and her doubts flared to the surface of her mind, she craved nothing more than to vanish, to become the part of Izzy’s heart her girlfriend claimed she’d wholly invaded. Izzy often felt like she was made entirely of pure fire, hot and blazing and never ending, but Clary thought she’d rather enjoy disappearing into it, to become a flame in her girlfriend’s inferno.

Izzy was easy, simpler than the thoughts uselessly banging around in Clary’s head.

“I don’t like that she might be right,” she finally said, her voice as soft as Izzy’s hands on her waist. “But mostly, I’m frustrated that she still doesn’t trust that I’ll be alright on my own. That I can make decisions and not have them turn into a disaster. I know jumping from softer media to A Restless Truth isn’t going to be without its challenges, but surely she understands I wasn’t going to stay in those circles forever, right?”

“Knowing something and watching it happen aren’t the same thing,” Izzy replied gently. Placatingly. Clary would have hated it, except she knew how quickly she could snap when it came to the topic of her mother.

Families had never been an easy thing for them.

“You’re doing what’s right for you,” Izzy continued, and Clary instantly relaxed. “And from the few scenes I’ve seen already, I know this was exactly what you needed. Branwell may be the more widely-known name, but you shine next to her, amor. If I wasn’t so sure you were in love with me, I might have believed it when I saw the way you looked at her.”

“I would nev–”

“I know,” Izzy poked her, laughing lightly. “I’m complimenting your acting skills, silly. Why don’t you just accept it instead of trying to defend your honor?”

Clary rolled her eyes but didn’t argue any further.

Even all these years later, even now that she knew Izzy better than she knew anyone else, receiving praise from her made her glow from the inside out. Isabelle Lightwood, regardless of her reputation, was a name that invoked respect in the acting world. She was brilliant. Far better than Clary would ever be, no matter how much her girlfriend argued against that particular opinion.

Clary would never turn down her compliments. She would never tire of them, either.

“I don’t know why she’s so worried about it being a queer love story,” Clary added after a minute of relishing in the comfortable silence that had fallen upon them. “She’s always known I would eventually seek those roles out, and she’s never expressed her discomfort before this.”

Izzy hummed lowly but didn’t say anything in response.

She’d already told Izzy what she thought about the matter. Had already reminded her that she wasn’t just featuring in a queer TV show, she was doing so alongside the LGBTQ+ community’s most beloved actress. Lydia Branwell had started a revolution when she’d released her interview two years prior stating that she would no longer audition for non-queer roles.

I’ve spent far too long pretending to be someone I’m not in my personal life. Why would I do so on screen, when there are options out there that will allow me to represent a community that means more to me than acting ever could?

Izzy and Clary had watched the entire thing live from their living room, their mouths wide open and their eyes full of raw admiration.

Outside of their apartment, authenticity had never been part of their vocabulary. The second they stepped out of their front door, they became Clary Fray and Isabelle Lightwood, best friends who lived in neighboring homes.

Until she had seen Lydia’s interview, Clary hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d grown to accepting roles that meant nothing to her.

And until she’d acted alongside Lydia, she hadn’t realized how much she was still hiding.

“Iz.”

Words gnawed at her heart, a confession she’d been trying to choke out since her third day on the set of The Last Binding’s second season.

“Hm?”

“Do you think it would help–” She cut herself off, breathing deeply.

Try again.

“I really am excited to be a part of a queer show for the first time,” she said hesitantly. “But it’s not– It’s a long way from– It’s not quite the same thing as telling the world who I am, is it? It doesn’t show them…”

“That it’s more than acting for you?” Izzy suggested. She wasn’t pushing, simply trying to formulate the words Clary couldn’t seem to speak out loud. She nodded slowly, twisting in Izzy’s arms until they were properly facing each other. “Is that something you want?”

It was. But the way she wanted to do it, the things she wanted to share with the rest of the world, it meant showing more than just a lesbian flag, meant doing much more than simply speaking a few words out loud.

“You know how I want it to happen.”

Izzy’s eyes flickered with panic, and Clary barely stopped herself from flinching at the harsh, unfiltered emotion in her girlfriend’s gaze.

“I thought we agreed it was… a fantasy.”

It had been.

When Clary had first brought up telling the world about their relationship, they had both laughed about the absurdity of her suggestion. Their careers had been in vastly different spots, and their relationship wouldn’t help push either of them in the direction that had been carved for them. The direction they’d carved for themselves, pouring years of work and sweat and emotions into so many roles, they’d sometimes forgotten what show or movie was coming up next.

Their fans loved their friendship, and Clary knew some of them were banking on something more existing between them, but there were lines they knew would be dangerous to cross. Their agents had warned them, their families had warned them, and even their friends – those who knew the most aching details of their private lives – were unsure if opening up to the rest of the world was a wise idea.

It had always come down to the same thing: were they willing to risk their acting careers in exchange for a public relationship?

And the answer had always been the same.

Until now.

“We’re doing good, Iz,” Clary said, keeping her tone as even as possible. Izzy was easily spooked when it came to talk of the media and their many prying fans. “You’re– where you want to be, and I’m finally branching into things that matter to me. I talked to Tessa about it, and she thinks we’ve passed the initial hurdle. Our reputations won’t crumble because we’re dating. We won’t stop being cast because we happen to be in a relationship with each other. If anything, we’ll probably get even more attention.”

“My reputation…”

Izzy was far away, her eyes unfocused. Clary didn’t say anything, knowing there was very little she could do when Izzy got caught in these moments. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make up for the time Izzy had spent hiding from paparazzi, desperately trying to get back a semblance of the life she’d had before she’d self-sabotaged. There was nothing she could do to make those months – years – better.

“I’d need to talk to Lily about it,” Izzy finally said, the words tumbling past her lips clumsily. “And I– It would need to wait. Not while you’re promoting, or while I’m filming. It would be… too complicated. You need to be at the top of your game, getting ready for the biggest release of your career, and you can’t do that if you’re dealing with everything else on the side. And I need to be perfect in this movie.”

Clary closed her eyes for less than a second, banishing the prickle of pain to the back of her mind, before opening them again and smiling at her girlfriend. She tugged Izzy’s hands away from her waist and laced them with her fingers instead.

“You’re already perfect,” she said seriously. “Nothing could ever change that. I know you’re worried about my reputation, but coming out with our relationship right now would only reinforce the fact that I belong in The Last Binding as much as Lydia does. If that’s what’s stopping you– stopping us from moving forward, then I’m telling you it’s alright. I’ll be alright.”

But Izzy shook her head, and Clary knew she was thinking about everything that could go wrong again.

“Okay,” she whispered. “We’ll wait.”

“I’m sorry,” Izzy murmured.

“I know.”

She got up then, and Izzy didn’t attempt to hold her back.

It wasn’t the first time they’d talked about this, but something about Izzy’s refusal, even now that Clary’s reputation was no longer at risk, stung deeper than it had every other time.

It pained her, too, that she felt that way.

Because, really, her love for Izzy wasn’t conditional. It didn’t matter if anyone else knew about their relationship: the two of them knew about it, as did everyone they loved, and that was enough. It was enough to make her feel loved and cared for and desired. It was enough to make her feel safe, to feel at home, to feel perfectly happy with the life they’d created for themselves.

Each night, Clary got to come home to the love of her life, to their lazy cat who loved to hog their bed, and to their apartment that was growing more cluttered with every knick-knack Izzy brought back from her adventures.

It was everything she’d ever wanted, and so much more.

So, it pained her that she still craved recognition from everyone else. Why should it matter that the media didn’t know about their relationship, when all they would do with the information was twist it until Clary couldn’t stand to read it anymore?

She wiped angrily at the tears forming in her eyes, her feet taking her to the kitchen counter out of habit, knowing Izzy wouldn’t bother her in her safe space.

Her hands moved of their own accord as well, taking out bowls and ingredients until Clary had everything she would need to bake her pumpkin, chocolate-chip cookies. It was almost enough to distract her from the fact that sometime in the past year, while her acting career took off and Izzy stopped obsessing over every news report released about her, she’d started hoping for more than what she’d been given. More than what she’d been promised.

She let the motions and scents of her baking soothe her as she tried to calm her mind and make sense of her emotions.

By the time she carefully placed the first batch into the oven, she’d managed to settle into something more rational than whatever she’d been feeling when Izzy had shot her suggestion down.

She left the cookies behind her and stepped back into the living room, where Izzy was waiting patiently, a book balanced perfectly on her knees.

She looked up as soon as Clary entered, her gaze apologetic and finally devoid of that terrible panic that had set Clary on edge as soon as it had made an appearance. When Izzy extended a hand out for Clary to take, she didn’t hesitate. She let herself get pulled back down onto the sofa, crossing her legs underneath her in an effort to mirror Izzy and put her at ease.

“I love you,” was the first thing Izzy said, and Clary melted.

“I love you too,” she whispered, leaning over to press her forehead against Izzy’s. They breathed in deeply for a few seconds, in and out until they were in sync with each other. It was a ridiculous exercise, but it never failed to make both of them feel better about whatever – usually silly – argument they’d just had.

“I know my reasoning isn’t entirely rational,” Izzy winced. “And I really will talk to Lily about it so I can get an outside opinion on the situation, but I just– I’m scared. Everything’s been going well, lately, and I’m afraid coming out with our relationship would be too much.”

“I know,” Clary smiled sadly. “I’m sorry for blurting it out so suddenly and expecting you to take it in stride. I think this was a very classic Clary moment.”

“You’ve been thinking about it a lot, then?” Izzy asked, and there was enough teasing humor in there for Clary’s smile to turn genuine.

“I suppose I have,” Clary admitted. “And along the way, must have forgotten about your constant reminders that you’re not actually a mind reader. Even though I still think you know far too much about the way I feel when I haven’t said anything out loud.”

“That’s just called being a good partner,” Izzy snorted. “You do the same to me, amor.”

“Yes, yes, but you know how my mind is. Sometimes, everything in there is so loud–”

“– that you can’t believe it didn’t actually come out of your mouth,” Izzy completed along with her, breaking into a wide grin when Clary flicked her nose in reprimand.

“Insufferable,” Clary huffed. “But I am sorry. I think being around Lydia has made me feel a little jealous of how open she is about her life, especially compared to mine. When she asked if I was queer, I could barely even get the words out, and I know it’s selfish, but it would be easier– It would feel so much easier if instead of trying to stutter my way into telling people I’m a lesbian, I could simply grab your hand, kiss you, and let my actions speak for me. And I know that’s not what we agreed on when we got together, so–”

“Things change,” Izzy interrupted her. Clary stared at her, her lips parted. “I’m not saying we should come out right now, but I wasn’t exactly fair to you when you brought it up. I panicked, and you know how I get when that happens.”

She gesticulated vaguely, and Clary snorted at her momentary inelegance.

“So, perhaps we were both a little bit wrong?”

“And both a little bit right,” Izzy smiled. “We’ll come up with a plan. Something that works with our schedules and our lives and that doesn’t make the media descend upon it like vultures.”

“As if–”

“Let me dream, Clarissa,” Izzy scowled, and Clary held her hands up in surrender, amusement warming her from her head to her toes. “Speaking of dreams, am I in one right now, or are those cookies I smell?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Clary rolled her eyes, stranding up only to lean back down and press a swift kiss to her girlfriend’s lips. “Even if we’d had the worst argument imaginable, I wouldn’t have denied you pumpkin cookies for movie night.”

Izzy’s face brightened with delight, and Clary thanked her silly, autonomous brain for managing to perform basic tasks even when she was in distress.

After all, that smile, those eyes, the light that enveloped Izzy whenever Clary did something for her? They made it all worth it.

Chapter Text

CORRUPTION OR REDEMPTION? Isabelle Lightwood spotted in company of darling actress Clary Fray and rising star Simon Lewis

They didn’t get snow in LA.

Clary had been the one to dispel Izzy’s dream of seeing the city covered in a thin blanket of white, curious to know what the coast would look like, sea warring with snow. Even though she’d known, deep down, that leaving New York had meant giving up on the pleasure of waking up to a quiet, snowy world, she’d still felt a twinge of pain at the thought.

Alec had sent her a picture of his new house in upstate New York earlier that week. His room had been buried under snow and, in the selfie he’d included of himself, his cheeks had been red, his eyes bright with excitement.

There’d been an offer there, too, for Izzy to join him over the holidays.

She’d liked his picture, had reminded him not to catch a cold, and had ignored the invitation, not knowing how to tell him that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle being back in New York so soon.

He’d understood anyway.

Still, as she sat curled up on her couch in an apartment too big for a single person, watching as the sun filtered through her large windows, regret crept up her throat.

A knock interrupted her reverie. Despite her melancholy, Izzy felt something within her perk up, her heart skipping a beat as she checked her hair and smoothed her hands over the jeans she’d chosen for the day.

When she opened her front door, she was greeted by the familiar, breathtaking sight of Clary, bundled up in a white puffy coat, her mouth stretching into a wide smile when her eyes landed on Izzy.

“Iz!” she exclaimed, wrapping Izzy in one of her tight hugs before letting her go and sauntering into the apartment. “You’re late! You were supposed to be ready by the time I came to get you! Or am I early? I’m not early, am I?”

“Impossible,” Izzy snorted. The two of them made quite the pair, their poor time management only being counteracted by Simon’s tendency to overprepare for every occasion. “I’m good to go, you know. I only need to grab a coat and my shoes, and we can head out.”

“And a scarf, gloves, maybe a hat…” Clary said thoughtfully, rifling through the rack of clothes Izzy had haphazardly stored in her entrance hall, unsure how much of her winter clothes she would need in LA. “You must have something like that in there, right? I mean, you come from the pits of– Ha!”

Izzy rolled her eyes and stepped closer to her friend, wrapping a gentle hand around Clary’s wrist until the redhead looked up at her, pausing in her search for the various accessories she’d deemed necessary for that day’s activities.

“Angel,” Izzy huffed, smiling when Clary’s cheeks reddened. “I’m not sure what exactly you’ve got planned for us, but unless you’re flying us up north, I doubt I’ll need any of the things you just listed. You know I’m only conceding to wearing a coat as a courtesy to you, so what makes you think I would willingly wear a scarf?”

“You’ll catch a cold,” Clary pouted, though she’d already dropped the gloves she’d selected out of Izzy’s pile. “Besides, it may not be freezing out, but it’s not November anymore. I saw you shivering the other day.”

“How dare I shiver?” Izzy laughed. “I’ll be fine. Besides, if I get cold, I suppose I can always borrow your clothes. You’ve got a scarf, don’t you?”

Clary opened and closed her mouth, no sound escaping her, and Izzy smirked at her flustered expression. She let her hand drop down to Clary’s fingers and gave them a brief, comforting squeeze.

“Knew I could count on you, angel.”

Then, she stepped away, grabbed her black jacket and strode to the front door once more.

“Agh!” Clary threw her hands up in her air. “You’re the fucking worst, Isabelle Lightwood. Here I am, trying to make sure you have a good day, that you enjoy an outing with the most wonderful friend in the world, and you just– you–”

The blush was back in full force, and Izzy looked steadily at Clary as she reached her side, the redhead’s eyes piercing, curious, conflicted. Izzy didn’t break the invisible contact between them, forcing herself not to show her own confusion, knowing it would do nothing to put Clary at ease.

It was a song and dance she was beginning to know by heart. Small touches, looks that she knew spoke far louder than her words ever could, and Clary’s constantly hesitant glances, as though she knew what Izzy was doing but wasn’t sure whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not.

Izzy couldn’t blame her.

What was one to do, when faced with the realization that one of your closest friends looked at you as though you were their world?

“Let’s go,” Clary finally said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I told Simon to meet us where we’re going, and I don’t want him to think we’ve forgotten about him. Or give him any more reason to find himself in an awkward situation with a fan. If we’re not quick, who knows what trouble he’ll agree to.”

Izzy didn’t protest, didn’t stop Clary when she walked out of the door. When she joined her in the elevator outside her apartment, she didn’t talk about the things Clary was keeping to herself, the words that were so loud in her eyes but forever silent out of her mouth. Instead, she asked her friend if she would finally tell her where they were going and watched as, slowly, Clary’s conflicted features relaxed back into her peaceful, bright expression.

She didn’t tell Izzy where they were going.

She linked their arms together and, instead of calling for a taxi or leading Izzy towards the private cars she could make use of – so long as she got Lily’s approval in advance – she angled them onto the sidewalk and started walking.

Izzy could only stare at her as they trailed down the busy road, earning curious glances every so often when someone recognized one of them. Clary was babbling about the latest role she’d booked thanks to Tessa’s careful selections. She was playing a secondary character in a movie about a group of teenage superheroes, and from what Izzy had gathered about the atmosphere on set, Tessa had done a good job.

Clary was thriving, and Izzy knew – without a doubt – that her friend would have no trouble finding her place in the industry.

She glanced down at their joined arms again, a twinge of discomfort almost making her trip over her own feet. She ignored Clary’s questioning gaze, waving her hand dismissively until her friend started speaking again, mentioning the various actors and actresses she had yet to meet but was excited to work with.

Guilt, Izzy thought. That was what the pain had been. An echo of the words that had been plastered across the internet and various tabloids, pointing at Clary’s friendship with Izzy as though it was something to shame, to gossip about, to analyze.

Gently, she removed her arm from Clary’s hold and smiled, amused, when her friend simply took the sudden freedom as an opportunity to wave her hands wildly, emphasizing her story with exaggerated gestures that had Izzy feeling ever-so-slightly better despite herself.

It was incredibly hard to remain miserable when she had Clary by her side.

A shame that reporters and paparazzi and fans alike were so willing to jump on the best thing that had ever happened to her, only to make it sound as though Izzy was… As though she was twisting Clary into something unworthy. As though there was even an ounce of Clary that could be unworthy.

“You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are, Iz,” Clary scoffed. A sharp finger was digging into Izzy’s side, through the thick layer of her coat. “I wanted to walk with you.”

“But the people–”

“Are idiots,” Clary rolled her eyes. “If they want to whisper about a completely innocent friendship because they think you’re some kind of temptress, who cares? As far as I’m concerned, you are a temptress. The best one, in fact, since you’ve somehow made everyone see Simon’s worth, found me an agent, and turned me into a morning person despite my protests. Ah, the temptation of a good life surrounded by good people. How horrible of you to drag me into it so thoughtlessly.”

It was more than that. So much more. But, despite herself, Izzy found herself smiling a little at Clary’s antics.

“Well,” she cleared her throat. “They don’t call me a seductress for nothing. I’ve been known to turn souls much purer than yours, angel.”

Clary flushed again, and Izzy grinned, simultaneously worried that Clary would shut down and ridiculously pleased that she’d managed to bring color to those cheeks once more.

“Are you sure you’re not the one spreading those rumors to the reporters?” Her friend finally countered, shivering as she placed her uncovered hands on her face, her fingers covering the burning of her cheeks. “I know Lily wants you to… use your reputation to your advantage.”

She said that last part with a scrunch of her nose. Izzy knew she disapproved of her new agent’s strategies, but Izzy trusted that Lily knew what she was doing. She’d been nothing but honest with Izzy from the start, bluntly stating that they would have a long way to go if she wanted to have control of her image again, and Izzy refused to do anything that would jeopardize her agent’s efforts.

“My latest roles haven’t been so bad,” she shrugged. “Did I tell you that I got to film with Raphael? He was brought on as a consultant for the music in The Dark Artifices, and the director asked him to stay afterwards. They had a minor role they needed to film, and Raphael accepted it.”

“Santiago?” Clary gaped at her, hastily apologizing to a passerby as she almost bumped into them in her shock. “Raphael Santiago let himself get caught on tape? Why?”

“He’s not a vampire, Clary,” Izzy laughed. “It’s not as though he’s afraid of being filmed. He’s just… picky.”

“Right, so a minor role in a show aimed at teenagers… makes sense?” Clary asked sarcastically. “How silly of me to even question his reasoning. Perhaps he saw you and was caught into your tempting web. In fact, it’s probably only a matter of time until the press catches wind of this and decides you must have somehow hypnotized him into agreeing to this.”

“I–” Izzy snapped her mouth shut, considering Clary’s words. A few seconds later, she shrugged, a dry smile tugging at her lips. “Actually, you probably aren’t far off the mark. However, you said it yourself: who cares what the media thinks? The actual truth is almost certainly more fascinating than whatever drivel they come up with.”

“Ah, so you do understand common sense!” Clary exclaimed, suddenly triumphant. “You admit the media is a bunch of hogwash and shouldn’t be treated seriously.”

“I admit the media lies,” Izzy muttered. “And that the truth is usually far better than their flimsy stories. It doesn’t mean what they say doesn’t have an impact on the people around me. People like you, for example.”

“Oh, please,” Clary sighed. “As though I care what they have to say about us being friends. I know I don’t have to remind you that reactions from your fans – our fans, I guess – have been overwhelmingly positive. I’ve gotten more traction on social media in this past month than I did in the entire year before that.”

Izzy stayed quiet.

“You can’t ignore logic forever!” Clary said, her voice a mixture of sullenness and determination. “Let the world know we’re friends, Iz! Who fucking cares!”

Gazes flitted over to them, and Izzy had to physically force herself not to recoil away from them. Next to her, Clary deflated, worry flashing in the depths of her eyes for a moment before she managed to compose herself.

And that was the problem, really.

Clary cared. Izzy cared.

There’d been no confusion between them until the media had gotten their hands on their friendship and had proceeded to turn it into something it wasn’t. There’d been no conflict, no hesitation when Izzy had intertwined her fingers with Clary’s.

But now… Now, there was Clary, her closest friend, the angel who had pulled her out of months of depression, and then there was Clary Fray, who had worked tirelessly for years to put herself in the spotlight, to be someone whose name everyone would know.

So, Izzy wouldn’t stop being Clary’s friend, but she also wouldn’t put her at risk.

Holding Clary’s hand wasn’t worth the whispers and rumors that would follow her friend everywhere she went if they were caught acting so intimately in public.

Simon was staring at her.

He hadn’t stopped since they’d arrived at the small ice rink, Clary having regained some of her former enthusiasm once she’d spotted her childhood best friend. Izzy had trailed in after her, a smile gracing her lips despite the hundreds of uncertainties that still clung to them like snow on her eyelashes.

Of course Clary had organized a trip to the ice rink. Of course she’d come up with a way to try and rid Izzy of her homesickness, her deep desire to be cold in December. It was nowhere near as magical as the pictures Alec had sent her way, but it was something more than what she’d thought she would get, and she hadn’t been sure how to thank her friend for her thoughtfulness.

So, she’d simply squeezed Clary’s hand tightly, letting go far more quickly than she’d wanted to, and had smiled gratefully when the redhead had turned to grin at her.

That was when Simon had started staring.

Surprisingly, his focus had been unwavering from the moment they’d stepped onto the ice. He’d declined their offer to join, electing to sit in the small stands instead. He’d immediately been approached by a hesitant fan but, rather than engaging with them as he usually would, he’d politely signed their shirt and had promptly gone back to staring at Izzy.

It was unsettling.

Izzy had been on the receiving end of many stares in the past year, but the way Simon looked at her now…

She’d never seen him so intense or preoccupied, and it set her on edge, a constant question mark lingering at the back of her mind. What if he’d figured out that Izzy was falling in love with Clary? What if he realized she was nowhere near good enough for his best friend? What if he knew that Izzy had been thinking about her every night? What if he understood that she couldn’t stop?

What if she lost one of her only friends in LA because she couldn’t keep herself from pining after the girl he treated as a second sister?

For a while, Clary kept her occupied. They skated together, Izzy taking the lead when it became clear Clary had never properly been on the ice before, and it was good. It was more than good. It was the freedom of knowing that their hands brushing against each other wouldn’t be seen as anything more than a helpful touch, and that any pictures taken of them couldn’t be turned into baseless slander that would make Clary’s smile dim.

Clary laughed when she fell, and she laughed when Izzy twirled, and she laughed when Simon waved at them with his phone in hand, clearly recording every second of their time on the ice. It was the kind of laughter that she hadn’t let herself express in public lately, and Izzy grinned at the sound of it.

“I’m getting the hang of it!” Clary said on their twentieth round of the rink, beaming at Izzy. She was holding herself steady, her legs stiff but mostly confident as she followed Izzy’s lead. “Before you know it, I’ll be twirling even more than you are. Maybe they’ll consider me for one of those ice skating movies or shows? They’re really starting to trend again, have you noticed?”

“Not particularly,” Izzy snorted, laying a hand on Clary’s waist when she wobbled precariously. She let go just as suddenly, but the brief contact was enough to have her stomach flutter nervously. “But I’m sure you’d do great in any project you set your mind to. Have you heard back from the Mirror Visitor people yet?”

Clary scrunched her nose up, her right shoulder lifting into a careless shrug that might have seemed nonchalant to anyone other than Izzy and Simon.

“It’s… promising,” she finally said, her lips tilting up ever-so-slightly at the corners. “I mean, there’s nothing confirmed yet, and the directors are worried about costs, but Tessa has her finger on the pulse of the project. If they go through to the next round of casting, I’ll be the first to hear about it.”

“With you in there? Of course they’ll go through with it,” Izzy winked. Clary only blushed, her shoulders hunching further, and Izzy wished she had the right words to tell her friend that everything she touched seemed to turn to gold. Every project Clary joined became a hub of positivity like none other, no matter how big or small.

The directors would be fools to pass up on an opportunity to work with someone like Clary.

“You’re only saying that because you’re my friend,” Clary rolled her eyes. “And really, we should be focusing on your projects a little bit more. You still haven’t told me how filming is going for that Arawiya movie you’re shooting. Is it as amazing as you imagined? Is it even better?”

“It’s fine, Clary,” Izzy huffed, hoping she sounded more amused than frustrated.

“Fine! That’s all I get! Here I am, telling you–”

But Izzy wasn’t listening to her anymore. Her gaze had caught Simon’s again, and she didn’t miss the slight tip of his chin, the invitation to join him. Clary’s hands were flying wildly in front of her, and she had to gently touch her friend’s arm to get her to lower them.

“Sorry,” she said when Clary blinked at her, confused. “I promise I’ll tell you more about the shoot later, alright? I think I just need a second off the ice. Why don’t you keep showing us your best moves so Simon can use his videos in an embarrassing montage, and I’ll join you again when you’re ready to race me?”

“Oh, it’s on,” Clary smirked, her eyes flashing competitively. She was already speeding up, the wobble intensifying for a few moments before she found her balance again. “You’d better hurry, Lightwood! Spend too long out there, and I’ll be ready to run laps around you!”

Izzy let out a small, breathless laugh as she stared after Clary. Red hair flew behind her and, everywhere she went, people parted. Dressed in white as she was, she truly did look like an angel.

It took her until Clary was already halfway back to her to move out of the way, hobbling gracelessly towards Simon, her skates suddenly more of a hindrance than anything. She glared at her friend as she plopped herself down next to him.

“You’d better have a good reason for dragging me away from the ice,” she grumbled. “And for creeping on me for the past forty minutes. Suddenly obsessed with me?”

“Suddenly obsessed with Clary?” Simon retorted, and Izzy felt herself flush.

“Nothing sudden abou–” She cut herself off, snapping her mouth shut. Simon chuckled quietly next to her, and Izzy resisted the urge to shove him over. There were fans around, and the last thing she wanted to do was add to the rumors looming over them.

Clary may have been her biggest concern, but the whispers about Simon hadn’t escaped her notice either. Speculation was quick to flare up when one was a raging bisexual, especially one who had never made a secret of her sexuality and her conquests.

“She’s not good with negative attention,” Simon finally said. Izzy stiffened but didn’t say anything. “I’m sure you’ve heard bits and pieces about her childhood and her parents and… all that. I don’t think she’s dealt with anything quite as brutal since then, but the rumors and the whispering and those goddamn paps that follow her everywhere haven’t been good for her.”

“I’m well aware, Si,” Izzy said, the words coming out through gritted teeth. “I’ve told her I’d be happy to take a step back, but she’s adamant that we should be allowed to share our friendship with the world.”

“Well, at least one of you was telling the truth,” Simon grinned, his eyes sparkling teasingly. “As if you’d ever be happy to take a step back from her.”

“Yes, well…” Izzy replied, trailing off lamely as she realized there wasn’t much else to say about the matter. She wouldn’t be happy to step away from Clary, and they all knew it. The lie had been a branch, an out for Clary to grab onto if she needed one.

She hadn’t taken it, and Izzy wasn’t inclined to give her another one.

“I think you guys are playing a dangerous game,” Simon added after a short pause, his stare burning a hole into the side of Izzy’s head. She didn’t meet it. “Keeping things hidden never lasts long, Iz, especially not for people like you.”

“Not much I can do about it, is there?” Izzy shrugged. Paused. Spoke again. “How long have you known?”

“Seriously?” Simon snorted. “Iz, the way you look at her is hardly subtle. I’m not surprised some people have started to pick up on the tension there. I’ll give it to you, you’re careful not to be caught out with her too often, but as soon as you are? You hang on to everything she says, everything she does, every step she makes in any direction.”

She didn’t deny it.

She’d never experienced intoxication like that before. Usually, crushes ebbed and flowed and eventually disappeared. She would get to know someone, get a lay out of them, and let them go just as easily.

So, of course she didn’t deny it. And of course she was obvious; she’d never learned how to be anything else.

“I just think whatever’s going on between you two is inevitable,” Simon told her, and Izzy froze, because that wasn’t what she’d thought he would say. She’d been waiting for the reprimand, the reminder to do better for Clary, for herself, to be more aware of her image and the ideas she would be giving people if this got out, but instead– “Would it kill the two of you to be honest and come out with it? The media will go crazy for a while, but you’re both respectable actresses, and–”

“Let’s not go that far, Simon,” Izzy cut him off shortly. “I may have earned some respect back from my latest role, but it’s nothing compared to the damage I inflicted upon myself all those months ago. You don’t come back from that in a year, not in this industry.”

Not with a name like hers and a brother like Jace who shone so brightly in contrast.

“And when you make it official?”

She hadn’t been certain there was even anything unofficial to talk about yet, but the thought of it warmed her heart. Not enough to make her reconsider the secrecy, but enough to soften her next words with a smile.

“Then I’ll be the happiest damn woman in the world,” she told him. “And we’ll be even more careful than we have been.”

“And when people find out anyway?”

She clenched her jaw, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

When she opened her mouth to speak again, she found nothing there but silence because the truth was, she didn’t know.

She could only hope they’d have a plan by then.

Chapter Text

THE SEDUCTRESS STRIKES AGAIN! Isabelle Lightwood reenters the dating scene with a bang

Izzy stared at Meliorn, her eyes scanning him from top to bottom for what felt like the hundredth time that day. A breeze ruffled his hair and his skin shone golden bronze in the sunlight. He looked ethereal.

She wondered when she’d stopped feeling drawn to people like him. Just a little over a year ago, she would have jumped on the chance to date someone as perfectly vague as him. He had just enough mystery and charm to make those around him consider him twice when they looked at him. In New York, Izzy would have been one of those people.

But now, as she stared at the beautiful man and the script in front of her that she’d already memorized to hell and back, she couldn’t even find a spark of interest. Nothing romantic, at least.

“Keep looking at me that way, and perhaps this scheme will be more believable than I anticipated it would be,” Meliorn murmured, raising his eyes to meet her gaze with a smirk that wasn’t quite arrogant – but not innocent either. “Am I truly so hard to look away from?”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” Izzy laughed, the smile at her lips more teasing than vicious. She liked Meliorn despite the awkwardness of their current situation, and she intended on keeping their relationship as friendly as possible whilst they navigated the uncomfortable world of dating for publicity. “I’m just trying to understand why you aren’t doing… more for me.”

Though there wasn’t anything to understand, really. The answer existed in her mind and heart in the shape of a red-haired woman who smiled even when she felt like crying and who glared at the paparazzi when they caught her in one of her rare bad moods.

“How flattering,” Meliorn huffed. “Though I assure you, the feeling is mutual. You’re a beautiful woman, Isabelle, but I think the contracts and legal discussions took any of the fun out of you.”

Izzy laughed genuinely this time, an inelegant snort punctuating her outburst. She shook her head at Meliorn but didn’t deny his words.

After all, there was truly nothing that could take the excitement out of a relationship as much as the dozens of papers they’d had to sign before making their affair public. At some point, Izzy had stopped reading the contracts and NDAs, trusting that Lily had read through them carefully and was aware of her limits.

“Do you think it’ll improve our chemistry on screen?” Izzy asked instead of prodding him further about any potential interest he’d had in her.

“The contracts?” Meliorn asked, raising an eyebrow.

Izzy rolled her eyes. “The forced proximity. I mean, we’re bound to get to know each other a little bit better, right?”

“I wouldn’t know, Isabelle,” Meliorn drawled. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I’m just as new to the fake dating scene as you appear to be. For all I know, it’ll make us despise each other. Maybe people will take one look at the movie and instantly know that we were making things up all along.”

“Doubt it,” Izzy shrugged. Of all the things she’d worried about when Lily had come up with her latest publicity stunts, the audience’s reaction to their relationship was at the bottom of her list. They wanted to believe she was a temptress and a reckless woman who jumped headfirst into other people’s beds, so that’s what they would see.

She ignored the slight squeezing in her chest. Ignored the fact that it felt like Clary’s fist clenching around her heart.

“And you’re sure there’s no risk of your feelings getting complicated?” Meliorn asked, and Izzy blinked at him for a second before the words caught up to her.

She let out a huffed laugh.

“None at all, Mel,” she smirked. “Though if you ever feel uncomfortable and want to back out, you know there are clauses in there for you to do exactly that. It’s not like you’re stuck in an infinite relationship with me. The second you want out, just say the word.”

Meliorn hummed, and Izzy felt him analyzing her every move again. She didn’t fidget, but his stare was beginning to wear her down. Though she couldn’t muster up even a hint of attraction for the man, there was no denying that he was an impressive person. He’d been intimidating enough when they’d been nothing more than castmates, but now that their agents had added an extra layer of intimacy to their relationship, his stare felt heavy.

Then again, perhaps the heaviness had less to do with Meliorn and more to do with the fact that Clary would undoubtedly read the news that day – or most likely find out through Simon – and then Izzy would have to…

She wasn’t sure what she would have to do, but she knew the damage control wouldn’t be pretty. Not when there were months of lingering gazes and brushed hands between them.

Not when less than two days ago, Izzy had fallen asleep with her head on Clary’s lap and had woken up to gentle fingers combing through her hair.

She winced.

“Ah,” Meliorn said softly. Izzy looked up to find him smiling knowingly. “I see.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she snapped without heat.

“Dating someone in public when you’re warming someone else’s bed in private? Can’t say I saw that one coming, Isabelle,” he continued, ignoring her clenched jaw. “I thought the contract said–”

“The contract doesn’t require me to talk about things that don’t exist, Meliorn,” she interrupted him with a careless wave of her hand. If his raised eyebrows were anything to go by, he didn’t buy her nonchalant act.

“But there is something, then?” He asked, his tone kinder now – if the distinct lack of emotion could be considered a kindness, at least. “That doesn’t exist?”

“See, I would answer that,” Izzy lied, “but I prefer to keep my professional and personal lives separate. If you recall our contract–”

“Our contract doesn’t say anything about friendship,” Meliorn cut her off this time, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and leaning closer to Izzy. Her fingers curled against her script, rumpling the paper in their wake. “God, you’re skittish. You know, maybe the rest of the cast would like you more if that separation was a little less intense.”

Izzy opened her mouth to refute his statement, but it would be a pointless task. She didn’t feel like lying to Meliorn, and she certainly didn’t feel like lying to herself.

“Even Alastair is more open than you are,” Meliorn added. Izzy’s eyes flicked over to the small crowd of actors chatting in between scenes, Alastair’s dark head towering over everyone else’s.

She didn’t think he’d said more than three words to her since they’d started filming. Then again, she wasn’t sure she’d said more than ten words to the rest of the cast since she’d taken on her role and joined the crew on set.

Maybe Meliorn had a point.

However, Izzy had her reasons for staying away from everyone else. Even now, her reputation followed her like a dark shadow, a reminder of the choices she’d made and the consequences she would have to reap for the rest of her career.

Clary and Simon shone so brightly, it was impossible for her to drag them down, but she didn’t want to– She couldn’t– She didn’t know how to risk it with anyone else. How was she supposed to shake someone’s hand in so-called friendship if she thought there was a chance their association would destroy whatever career the other person was trying to create for themselves?

“As I said,” Meliorn snorted. “Skittish. Are you like this with your mysterious lover as well? Is that why nothing exists yet?”

“Sure,” Izzy shrugged. It wasn’t too far off from the truth. In fact, it was far too close to it for comfort. “She’s got her own life to worry about.”

“Don’t we all?” Meliorn asked dryly.

“Touché,” Izzy laughed softly. “Someday, we’ll figure it out. Until then, the least I can do is try to drag my reputation back into something halfway acceptable. And if that means dating people who match the mood Lily wants me to give off, then so be it. I’m sure I’ll survive. I’m sure she will too.”

“If you say so.”

He didn’t sound nearly as convincing as Izzy would have wanted him to, but she supposed offering false platitudes hadn’t been a part of their contract either.

All they had to do was hold hands, peck each other on the lips in public a few times, and provide the paparazzis with enough content to keep them appeased for a while. Lily had hopes that it would simultaneously take the heat off the rest of Izzy’s private life whilst also reminding producers and directors that she could create on-screen chemistry like no one else.

Izzy had hopes that it would keep her career afloat for a while longer.

“I’m going to join the others,” Meliorn said when it became clear Izzy wouldn’t be adding anything to their conversation. “Would you care to come along?”

She stared at them for a second. Alastair had his arms crossed over his chest, but a small smile tugged at his lips. Next to him, Matthew laughed loudly, his entire being vibrating with a joy Izzy could only hope to replicate when acting. Cecily shone at the center of it all, and Izzy felt a pang of longing squeeze her heart.

She ignored it.

“Go ahead,” she told Meliorn, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll stop by later, when you’re all done filming that big scene you’ve been studying for so intently.”

He laughed as he shook the script in his hands.

“Not even slightly nervous about it, Isabelle. We wouldn’t mind your presence. Distractions are always welcome, especially when they come in such a beautiful shape.”

“Like I said,” Izzy shrugged. “I’ll be there in a bit. Go have fun. And do try not to mess the scene up too many times. We have a meeting with hair and makeup after this, and I don’t want it to drag on forever simply because you couldn’t get your lines right.”

Meliorn rolled his eyes at her and gracefully stood, lazily dropping his script in front of her. As much as she teased him, she knew he was ready for the scene; she’d noticed the way he took everything in diligently, never wanting to waste time and always determined to make the most out of the screen time he got.

If anyone was going to fumble over his words, it would be Matthew.

Perhaps Izzy would get closer to the group, if only to see him when he flailed and inevitably made the whole cast crack, either in laughter or frustration.

Light filtered from underneath Izzy’s front door, and she closed her eyes, rubbing a weary hand over her face.

Her bag was heavy with the newly-revised script the assistant directors had given her that day, reminding her that her integrity during this performance was a necessity. The audience needed to believe she was good so her betrayal would come as even more of a shock.

She pretended not to be hurt at the implication that she would never be viewed as a purely good person. That the viewers would never be truly surprised when she came out and revealed she was turning to the dark, because really, they should have known Isabelle Lightwood couldn’t be on the right side of the war.

Needless to say, she was exhausted. Tired of the constant conversations, the back-and-forth with her superiors, and her castmates’ questions about her relationship with Meliorn. She’d borne it all with as much grace as she could, but she’d stumbled at the end of the day.

Paparazzis and reporters alike had been waiting for her and Meliorn as they left set, and she’d had to don yet another mask, put on one more performance, before she could head home for the day.

And now, there was light underneath her front door.

Simon wouldn’t have bothered her after a long day on set, no matter how annoyed he would be with her when they next saw each other. He’d chew her out and remind her that Clary meant more to him than anyone else in the world, and Izzy would explain herself but never quite manage to justify her actions.

But their confrontation wouldn’t happen that evening.

Instead, when Izzy finally braced herself and pushed her front door open, she was greeted by the faint smell of cookies and the sight of Clary’s shoes left carelessly next to Izzy’s various heels and boots.

Usually, she loved the sight of Clary’s things next to hers. Tonight, however, they reminded her of the explanations she owed and the excuses she would have to make, all in the hopes that she hadn’t permanently damaged her relationship with the woman she loved.

For all that she’d told Meliorn they would be fine, the truth was she had no idea how Clary would react to her latest, impulsive decision.

(Lily’s idea, sure, but Izzy’s decision, in the end.)

Izzy stepped into the kitchen and held her chin up high, refusing to come in looking defeated or guilty.

She’d made a choice, and she was going to live with it.

“Well, well,” Clary’s voice was sharp as she greeted her. Izzy didn’t wince, but it was a near thing. “I wasn’t sure if I should get started on dinner, since I wasn’t sure how many of us would be joining. I’ve never seen your dearest Meliorn around, but now that the news is out, I figured perhaps you’d finally let him make an appearance.”

“Clary,” Izzy sighed, exhaustion cutting through her voice. She saw her friend hesitate, some of her sharpness turning to concern even as anger brewed in her gaze and the set of her jaw. “It’s fake.”

It stopped her in her tracks for a second. The flush of her cheeks didn’t lessen, but her fists unclenched momentarily, giving the spatula in her hand room to breathe.

“What?” Clary croaked, and Izzy wished she’d prepared her words in advance.

Perhaps if she’d made a script, she wouldn’t feel at such a loss now, staring into her favorite shade of green and knowing the sentences she uttered could make or break her tenuous relationship with the woman who had so thoroughly found a place in her heart.

“Lily thinks I should lean into the reputation I have right now,” Izzy said carefully. “It’s gotten better since… last year, and she thinks it would be good for people to remember that I’m lovable. That I can be cared for, even if it’s only in a fun, temporary manner. She thinks it’ll help directors and casters see me as someone who can create chemistry, not just as a troublemaker with a scandalous past. And Meliorn needed a bigger name to bring his into the light.”

She watched a multitude of emotions pass over Clary’s face, though she eventually settled on something between her earlier contempt and… regret, maybe. The smallest hint of sadness in a whirlwind of bitterness.

It wasn’t the first time Izzy had seen those emotions cross her features, but it was the first time they’d been directed at her. Usually, they were reserved for mentions of her father and brother, or of her distant family who had done nothing to help her mother when she’d found herself in need. It was meant for paparazzis and fans who wouldn’t leave her alone. It was the face she made when comments got mean, when the world refused to give Izzy the peace she so desired.

Half a year of knowing each other, and Izzy could have picked every flash of feeling off Clary’s face in the blink of an eye.

Now, she would have done anything not to have that power, if only so she could be oblivious to Clary’s fury for a second longer.

“You’re dating him for your reputation?” Clary snapped, and Izzy felt shame rise within her. She blinked back sudden tears, not wanting Clary to let go of her anger simply because Izzy was too pathetic to handle her ire. “And that makes it… what? Okay? That you’re dating him, even though you don’t care for him? That you’re dating him, even though–”

Her breath caught in her chest, and Izzy kept her features tight. If she let them go for even a second, those treacherous tears would fall. She’d never been good at that; keeping her emotions in. She had too many of them most of the time, and only people like Clary – like Simon, like Alec, like Jace – seemed to know what to do with them.

Except Clary had her own tears to deal with now, shining in her eyes so brightly, Izzy wanted nothing more than to brush them away.

Even though–

And she’d paused there, because that was the root of their problem.

Because Clary came to Izzy’s place almost every night, cooked her dinner, watched movies on her couch, and more often than not fell asleep in her bed, but there was no ‘even though’. There was only Izzy and Clary, best friends, beloved by their fans so long as they kept things simple. Isabelle Lightwood and Clary Fray, two actresses who supported each other and cheered each other along but never crossed any lines.

When Lily had asked if Meliorn would be a suitable option for her to date publicly, she’d almost said no. Had almost brought Clary’s name forward instead, because there was no one else she wanted in her arms. No one else whose hands she wanted linked with hers.

But Clary had her own reputation to uphold, and it didn’t match the image Lily was trying to create for Izzy’s.

So here they were again, juggling their reputations with the tentative thing that grew between them every time their eyes met.

“What was I supposed to say?” Izzy asked softly, her voice cracking. Clary shook her head, her cheeks tear-stained. “Lily had a point, and Meliorn was happy to sign a contract for a few weeks, or months, or however long it takes for one of us to get tired of this. And then I’ll find someone else to fill the role when Lily decides it’s time to start again, and my career will be… better. I’d rather be called a seductress than a basket case with a drug problem.”

“That’s not what they say about you,” Clary scoffed through her tears.

“It’s not far from it,” Izzy shrugged.

Clary didn’t say anything else to that. She only blinked, opening and closing her mouth as though she’d forgotten her lines. Izzy wondered what she’d planned to say that evening, and how thoroughly Izzy had shattered those plans when she’d announced it was all fake.

“You could have asked me.”

Izzy snorted, grimacing when Clary’s face contorted in pain.

“You could have,” she insisted, though her voice was small, her tone bordering on desperate. “That way, it wouldn’t have to be…”

“Fake?”

Clary bit down on her bottom lip. The anger had faded from her cheeks, but her quiet crying had turned them a dark pink anyway. Izzy could see the war behind her gaze, the constant ‘will they, won’t they’ tugging at her heart the same way it did within Izzy’s chest.

“If I had a partner,” Izzy started carefully, watching as Clary’s lips parted. She met Izzy’s eyes straight-on, hopeful and scared and hungry. “If I had a partner, I would let them have a say in these fake relationships I put on for the public. The PR would act as a cover for my true partner, giving them a chance to hide in the shadows, but they would be the one I would turn to when discussing boundaries.”

“Right,” Clary whispered.

“Their career would be safe too, since everyone’s eyes would be on my fake relationship rather than the one I’ve been trying to cultivate for the last six months,” Izzy continued. “They would be a roommate, a confidante, a best friend. To the rest of the world, at least. To me, they would be…”

Clary’s eyes shone. Her hair haloed her in autumnal light. She’d put the spatula down, leaving her hands bare with the exception of the ring on her pinky, Izzy’s Christmas gift to her. The apron she was wearing was ridiculous, a gift from Jace that Izzy would have never worn herself, even if she’d been inclined to cook. Clary wore it better than she could ever have.

“They would be everything.”

“Iz,” Clary murmured. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into–”

“Confessing that I’m in love with you?” Izzy laughed softly, pressing her hands to her eyes to stave away tears. “How else am I supposed to make you understand that everything else is for show? I’ve been waiting months for you to say something, angel, and I would have waited much longer. I’d have let you have whatever time you needed to come to terms with whatever feelings you do or don’t have. But Clary, you have to know he means nothing to me. He never will.”

“I know,” Clary said. “I know. Even when I saw the stupid headlines and the rumors and the tabloids that somehow already have pictures of you, I knew there was no way you wouldn’t have told me about something this big. Though I would appreciate a head’s up in the future, regardless of how fake the relationship may be.”

“Like I said,” Izzy replied, keeping her voice even. “I would give my partner whatever consideration they deemed necessary.”

There was a challenge in her words, too. Daring Clary to reject her, to keep them in their state of platonic friendship they’d been faking for months. She would take it in stride because she loved Clary more than she cared about the status of their relationship, but it would mean Clary would have to accept the limits of what their friendship signified.

Friends didn’t have to warn their friends when they entered a romantic relationship. They didn’t get a say over their friends’ love lives.

She could see the cogs turning in Clary’s head, all those things they’d considered replaying in her mind on loop. The dangers of dating a fellow actress. The fallout they might face if their relationship ever became public. The way their romance might affect any future projects they had together. The effort it would take to keep it all a secret.

But above all that, there was that all-encompassing love that Izzy had taken to drinking in like pure sunshine. Desire and care and gentle understanding and adoration.

“I want names before you decide to do anything,” Clary finally said.

Then she closed the gap between them, lifted gentle hands to Izzy’s face, and let her eyes flutter shut in clear invitation.

Izzy’s heart hitched in time with her breath, but she’d been waiting for this for months.

And when she kissed Clary Fray for the first time, it felt like taking a breath of fresh air after too many cloudy days.

Chapter Text

A RESTLESS TRUTH CAST WINS HEARTS OF MILLIONS: Even in promotions, Clary Fray ‘brings Maud to life in a breathtaking way’

Before Clary had been picked up for the first season of The Last Binding, interviews had always been a source of stress. She’d worried that she wasn’t dressed up enough, or that she was too dressed up, or that she wasn’t talking enough, or that she was talking too much… She’d worried until every smile she gave the interviewers felt fake, and until even her castmates could pick up on how robotic her answers were.

It was different with A Restless Truth. She’d felt it when she’d been a background character in the first season, but it shone through even more now that she was a lead actress, the rest of the cast members to her sides while she stayed at the center of everyone’s attention.

There was a care in the way all of her castmates interacted with each other and, even though it had taken her a while to feel like she belonged, she knew the care extended to her too. When a question felt too personal, someone else was quick to bring the focus back on the events of the upcoming season. When an interviewer’s humor became too cutting for one of them, Magnus would step in with a cutting remark that would have them rethinking their approach.

And when Clary stumbled on her words, feeling small in the midst of truly exceptional actors, they would smile at her and encourage her and finish her sentences when it all got too much for her to handle.

It came as no surprise when their first interviews were received with overwhelming praise and showers of positive attention.

It wasn’t a surprise, but it was still an intoxicating feeling, one that Clary hoped she would be able to replicate in future projects. Wherever she went after this, she could only cross her fingers and believe that her castmates’ energy would follow with her.

“Another glowing review?”

Clary grinned at Magnus as he sprawled out on the couch across from her.

They’d all found themselves in Lydia’s apartment after their latest shoot – a series of games about the first and second seasons of the show, to be aired both before and after the premiere in July. For all that she seemed wealthy and glorious and unattainable from a distance, Lydia was a surprisingly down-to-earth, no-nonsense kind of person, and she loved playing hostess for them after a long day of work.

“The fans love us,” Clary answered, turning her phone around to show him the latest article about the first round of interviews they’d released. “And they’re curious about where we’ll be taking the second season compared to the book.”

“Any feverish book fans begging to have their favourite innocuous character make an appearance?” Mark snorted as he sat down next to Magnus, pushing his legs with a sigh when the latter made no move to budge. “I’ve had some of them accost me in the street, you know? Asking if the raunchy books will make an appearance or if they’ve been cut to fit a wider audience.”

“As though Jia would ever cut anything for the sake of a lesser audience,” Magnus smirked. “Didn’t she get genuine erotica for you to carry around during those scenes?”

“More than that,” Mark chuckled. “I’m almost convinced she’s the one who wrote the extracts we read out loud. She was mouthing along with Clary and Lydia when they were filming those scenes. Hell, for a while I wondered if those scenes were even in the books to begin with.”

“You’d know that if you’d bothered to read them,” Lydia said dryly as she finally joined them, a tray of drinks balanced on her right hand. “Though, I might have respected her even more during shooting if I’d known she was the one who’d come up with the more… creative passages we read.”

“Ugh,” Clary scrunched her nose up. “I know Aline too well to be thinking about her mother like this.”

“Yes, well,” Magnus shrugged. “I rather think she’d be impressed by her mother’s gumption. And hardly surprised, considering how Jia reacted when Aline came out.”

They all laughed at that, though Clary’s felt hesitant, her position within their group always unsure. She knew Mark and Magnus suspected she was just as queer as the rest of them, but having never stated it out loud, she couldn’t help but wonder if they watched her closely during moments like these.

If she hadn’t been a coward, she would have come out to them months ago and have been the first to joke about Jia’s recounting of her sexual experimentations as a teen. Instead, she giggled nervously and swallowed thickly when Lydia turned to her with a raised eyebrow, her secret hanging between them.

Tell them, Lydia would say.

But Clary’s usually loud brain and loud mouth were nowhere to be found in moments like these.

“Did you hear Aline and Helen are engaged?” Magnus asked before Lydia could delve into whatever was bothering Clary. “Mark dearest didn’t bother to keep us updated, but thankfully the grapevine works quickly. Their wedding is bound to be one for the ages. If the guests are half as extravagant as the food, I reckon I might finally have a chance of finding the true love that’s escaped me so far.”

“Drama queen,” Mark rolled his eyes. “Though you aren’t entirely wrong. There’s bound to be people from the East Coast there on top of our various family members, which means new faces. Perhaps you’ll finally stop harping on about your exes and how few fish there are in our tiny pond.”

“Oh, never,” Magnus grinned devilishly. “I know how much you love my stories and my complaints, dearest.”

“Your ego knows no bounds,” Lydia cut in, leveling Magnus with an unimpressed look. He took it in stride, preening as though she’d bestowed upon him the ultimate compliment. Clary had to stifle a laugh. “And you’ll have to check the guest list with Aline and Helen beforehand. From what I understand, there are some people on there whose feathers you don’t want to ruffle. Might want to have a look at them before you accidentally flirt with someone’s partner.”

“But that’s half the fun,” Magnus mock-pouted. Mark and Lydia let out twin sighs of exasperation, and Clary beamed at the three of them. “Biscuit gets it, don’t you?”

“Sure?” Clary shot him her most convincing grimace. It melted into a genuine smile when the others laughed at her attempt.

“I doubt Clary is using parties and public functions as her personal dating pool, Mags,” Mark pointed out, eyes glittering with amusement. “Some of us prefer to go about it the traditional way.”

“Didn’t you find Kieran in a forest during a shoot?” Magnus retorted, and watched as Mark’s protests died on his lips.

“To be fair, I think forests can be very romantic,” Clary said, smiling impishly at Magnus when he shot her a betrayed look. “Though, I guess weddings have their appeal as well, so long as you don’t try to steal the bride. Or the groom, as a matter of fact.”

“How dull,” Magnus said, his put-upon tone conflicting with his upturned lips. “Not as dull as Lydia’s idea of romance, though. I reckon you plan on finding them through a blind date, don’t you Lyds? Maybe set up by your parents? Or a colleague?”

“Considering you’re my colleagues, I doubt I’ll be putting that kind of responsibility into your hands anytime soon,” Lydia sniffed. “And I can’t believe you think so little of me, Magnus. I’ll gladly put in the work when the time comes for me to find a partner, but I’m not as closed off to serendipity as you seem to think I am. You never know when you’ll find the right person, right?”

“Right,” Clary answered quickly, blushing when all three of her castmates turned to her in unison. “I just– I mean, I get what Lydia’s getting at. You can look for love all you want if it’s something you’re searching for, but it’s not a guarantee that’s when you’ll find it. For all you know, it’ll come to you on a beach at a friend’s party, when all you wanted to do was get some fresh air and not have to socialize for a while.”

“Oddly specific,” Magnus drawled.

“That was… an example,” Clary said lamely.

She expected them to tease her or push her further, but then she looked up and realized Lydia was looking at her the same way she did during interviews, as though she knew Clary had reached the limit of what she wanted to say on the matter.

“Not a bad example at all,” Lydia winked at her. “Though not nearly as good as meeting the love of your life on a ship in the middle of a murder mystery infused with strange magic.”

At that, Magnus threw his hands up and started on one of his usual tirades, lamenting the struggles of being an actor who had gotten to live through so many love stories and meet-cutes already. In his opinion, their career made it harder to find a spark in real life, since they were so used to the fabricated romances they’d been a part of over their careers.

But Clary didn’t think there was anything wrong with the kind of quiet romance that could be found on beaches outside of friends’ houses. And she certainly didn’t think there was anything wrong with the kind of love that bloomed slowly, that stayed hidden in the crevices of cafés and her apartment and the dozens of little gestures Izzy sent her way even when they couldn’t physically be together.

Even now, there was an empty tupperware of leftover cookies in her bag. It had been waiting for her on the counter that morning before she’d left for her interviews, along with a note from Izzy signed with a heart at the end.

Perhaps it wasn’t as grand as Maud and Violet’s ship affair, but Clary knew it was equally as special. Just as unique. And infinitely more real, considering their lives were worth more than four hundred pages of a book and twelve episodes of a show.

“-ary?”

She looked up at the sound of her name, blinking owlishly at Mark.

“I was asking if you’d found someone you wanted to bring along to that big event in June,” he repeated for her sake, grumbling under his breath about ‘the youth’ and their inability to pay attention. Magnus slapped the back of his head in reprimand with a sharp reminder that Mark was younger than him and none of them were nearing old age.

Clary smiled at the interaction even as she felt her heart clench uncomfortably at the thought of the event.

In another world, the event celebrating queer stories would have been the perfect place to come out and reveal her relationship with Izzy. If she hadn’t already asked her girlfriend about it less than a week ago, she might have even suggested it as the perfect opportunity to get rid of the secrecy that constantly loomed over them.

But Izzy was already going to the event, had been invited thanks to her openness about her sexuality and the current project she was working on, which included various queer storylines.

Clary could invite her if she wanted to, but it would be redundant.

“I didn’t think I’d need any more company than the three of you,” she said, avoiding Lydia’s knowing eyes.

She’d never told Lydia about Izzy, but she had a feeling the other woman had figured it out anyway.

“Don’t forget about Alastair and Thomas,” Mark huffed. “Though I’m not sure how much time they’ll give us, given the status of their relationship. I never thought I’d see the day when Alastair Carstairs mooned over someone. It’s nauseating.”

Magnus – and even Lydia – echoed his sentiment, the three of them despairing over the first season’s co-stars having found love in each other while they could only hope to find their match someday in the distant future. But Clary’s envy of Alastair and Thomas was entirely different.

She already had someone’s hand to hold, someone whose eyes she wanted to look into as though the cameras didn’t exist, someone to kiss chastely when she thought their fans weren’t looking.

She wondered, for a moment, if that meant she had it better than them.

Or maybe it meant she had it worse. After all, if they knew the predicament she was in, she doubted it would be envy she’d find in their gazes.

It wasn’t until two days later that the high from the interviews and reviews and comments on her various social media profiles came crashing down.

She found Izzy in their living room, the TV turned on but the sound muted. The fingers of her right hand twisted her ring around whilst her left hand tapped nervously at a stack of documents she’d placed next to her.

The second Clary saw her, she knew something was wrong.

“Hey,” she called softly, smiling when Izzy looked up at her with a tiny grin, her features bright despite her preoccupation. “Missed you today.”

“Hmm,” Izzy said lazily, sighing when Clary carded her fingers through her hair. “Shooting went on longer than I thought it would, and Lily wanted to see me afterwards. You know how chatty she can get. Never knows when to stop once she’s started.”

Clary hummed, forcing herself to remain calm even as she watched Izzy’s fidgeting, her hands folding and unfolding the corner of the topmost page, making the stack tilt precariously. It was the sight of those pages and of Izzy’s anxious tapping that brought another memory to the forefront of Clary’s mind.

Ten months ago, Izzy had come home with a similar stack of papers. It had been their last big fight.

“You can’t be serious,” Clary choked out.

Izzy’s tapping stopped. Her dark eyes rose to meet Clary’s, and Clary didn’t find anything there but exhaustion. There was no triumph, no excitement, none of the eagerness she’d exhibited in the past when Lily had approached her with a PR relationship contract. When they’d last talked about Izzy’s fake dating scheme, they’d both agreed her summer romance with Cristina would be the final contract.

“Lily promised you wouldn’t have to–”

“It didn’t come from Lily,” Izzy sighed, pushing the papers away from her. They went flying, pages falling to the floor while others flipped over, revealing paragraphs of printed text and a signature Clary knew wasn’t Izzy’s. “Maia’s agent came to her, and Lily said she’d let me make the call.”

There was something else there, something Izzy wasn’t saying, but Clary knew better than to try and get it out of her. When her girlfriend wanted to keep something hidden, there was little she could do to uncover it until Izzy was ready to admit what was bothering her.

“And you haven’t said no yet?”

“I don’t…” Izzy shook her head slowly, and Clary’s heart broke a little as she spotted more of that desolate tiredness. “You know, I overheard one of the supporting actors mention they were surprised I wasn’t dating Maia yet, considering my reputation. Wondered if that was why my acting had been lackluster.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Clary laughed humorlessly. “Your acting can be many things, but lackluster isn’t one of them. Who the hell do they think they are, commenting on things they could never understand? They’ll never have even an iota of your talent, love.”

“I know that,” Izzy replied, and the small smile on her lips told Clary that wasn’t a lie. No matter what, Izzy knew how much Clary admired her skills on set. “But they’re not the only ones thinking it, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do about their opinions. I wouldn’t care, but if the ADs start thinking the same way, my life on set is going to turn into a nightmare. I can’t afford to be seen as a weak actress, and if it means dating someone to make them look at me in a better light, then–”

She shook her head again, closing her eyes.

Clary knew her girlfriend well enough to know she was hiding tears.

She put down the book she’d been holding and walked the rest of the way to the couch, hastily gathering the discarded pages of the contract before kneeling in front of Izzy. When she placed a gentle hand on her girlfriend’s cheek, Izzy leaned into it. When she stroked her tears away, Izzy’s breath hitched.

And when Izzy’s eyes finally fluttered again, Clary tilted her head in invitation and hummed when Izzy pressed their lips together.

These were some of her favorite kisses, soft and slow and delicate in a way that Izzy so rarely let herself appear. They felt like the very heart of Izzy, the piece of her she hadn’t revealed to anyone other than Clary and Simon since the scandal that had torn her apart.

She pulled away only to peck Izzy’s lips again, and again, and once more until her girlfriend was holding back laughter.

Even with her tear-stained cheeks and sadness lurking in her gaze, she was the most beautiful person Clary had ever seen.

She would have gladly ripped her castmates to shreds for the ugly words they’d thrown her way. In fact, if she ever surprised her girlfriend on set again, she’d make sure to run into those assholes and give them a piece of her mind.

“A compromise,” Clary said when she was sure Izzy was listening to her. “I don’t want you dating Maia. I don’t care that she’s lovely and kind and respectful, and I certainly don’t put any faith into what those idiots are saying about your acting. We said Cristina would be your last PR stunt, and I want us to stand by that.”

“I know,” Izzy winced.

“So, don’t make an announcement about your relationship,” Clary said, her voice growing more confident as she considered the flimsy plan in her head. “You can flirt, and imply that you’re more than friends, and you can even hold hands or whatever else you want on set, so long as you don’t cross the line.”

Izzy blinked at her for a moment, and Clary couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her again. Izzy looked positively stunned when she rocked back on her heels.

“You’re incredible, Clary Fray,” Izzy whispered.

Clary blushed, but she didn’t deny it. It was one of the only rules in their relationship; they didn’t try to diminish the compliments they gave each other. Instead, they accepted them with blushes and stuttered words and hesitant smiles.

It had done wonders for Clary’s sense of self-worth, and she knew it had kept Izzy standing on days when the world had felt too big for her.

“I’ll have to run the new proposition by Lily and Maia’s agent,” Izzy continued. “Make sure the terms are alright with them and that they understand the boundaries. If they refuse, I’ll turn down the contract altogether.”

“Good,” Clary nodded, her voice firm. “Now, enough about Maia and Lily and all the other work nonsense. You’ve been so busy, I haven’t even had the time to tell you that my castmates have been having some interesting conversations about Aline and Helen’s wedding.”

“Yeah?” Izzy’s eyes brightened, her hands patting the space next to her. Clary accepted it with a grin, settling in and curling up next to her girlfriend. “What are those fools on about now? You know, I heard from Aline that Helen almost didn’t tell Mark about the wedding beforehand. She was worried he’d cause shenanigans.”

“He probably will,” Clary giggled, thinking about her elusive castmate and his propensity for causing mischief. “Apparently, he and Kieran are planning on scouting the place for the potential love of their life.”

“One soulmate isn’t enough for them?” Izzy teased, though Clary knew she’d been the first to support Mark when news of his polyamorous lifestyle reached the media.

“I’m sure they’ll find someone eventually,” Clary shrugged. “But they’re not actually who I wanted to talk about. Because Magnus will also be at the wedding. And he is ever-so curious about the people coming over from the East Coast.”

Izzy all but bounced in her seat. Clary pinned her down with a gentle hand, accepting the excited squeezes Izzy sent her way. When her girlfriend beamed at her, excitement dripping off her in waves, she gave in to the urge to grin right back.

“It’s finally time! My matchmaking skills will know no bounds! There’ll be no limits to what I can do!” Izzy crowed, and burst into laughter when Clary pounced on her, tickling her ribs for a moment before leaning over her and smattering kisses all over her face. “Stop! Stop!”

“Your fault for being so damn cute,” Clary pointed out, placing one last kiss on her girlfriend’s forehead before pulling her up and perching herself atop Izzy’s lap. “I love it when you get excited about romance. You know, I’ve never even seen them together and I can already hear the wedding bells.”

“Alec will have my head if he realizes what we’re up to,” Izzy hummed, narrowing her eyes in consideration. “We’ll have to come up with a subtle plan. Their meet-cute needs to be perfect. Or perhaps it needs to be awkward? We need to make sure Magnus can handle Alec at his worst.”

“During their first meeting?” Clary asked, amused.

“Alec is socially inept,” Izzy retorted, and Clary couldn’t argue with that. Even in the interviews they’d given when they were teenagers, Alec had always been the shyest of the three Lightwoods.

When Clary had first met him, he’d locked himself into his home office for three days before finally coming out and grumbling an apology about his busy schedule.

He was everything Magnus wasn’t, but she knew – and Izzy knew – they would be perfect for each other.

They just needed to meet.

“We could set up something a little like the time we met,” Clary suggested, thinking back on her conversation with Lydia, Mark and Magnus. “Or a forest. Apparently they have some appeal. Maybe Alec would prefer a forest to the beach.”

“We’ll have to leave the setting alone until we know what Aline and Helen’s venue looks like, amor,” Izzy said, chuckling when Clary pouted. “Nevertheless, if I approach Aline and you get through to Helen, we can convince them to at least seat them at the same table. I don’t think those two would ever stand in the way of gay love.”

“Are you forgetting about the time I was trying to organize a romantic evening for our anniversary and Aline–”

“Okay, okay, they would almost never stand in the way of gay love,” Izzy snorted. “Hasn’t Aline apologized for her mistimed game night plans a hundred times already? I’m pretty sure you received a stack of books from her just last month.”

“I like to make her sweat,” Clary grinned wolfishly. “She works hard to stay in my good books, as she should.”

“Ridiculous,” Izzy shook her head, but she was smiling at Clary like she thought she was the cleverest person in the world.

And really, how was she supposed to resist a smile like that?

She ran her hands up Izzy’s arms until they were looped behind her neck, leaned in, and forgot all about Magnus, Alec, and the rest of their friends for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

CLARY FRAY: Desperately closeted lesbian or attention-seeking straight woman? Fans talk sexuality in media

“Utter crap,” Lydia snapped, tossing a heap of magazines into the trash and frowning when she noticed the furrow deepening between Clary’s brows. “Seriously, Clary, you can’t let it get to you. They said the same about me when I started acting, and I know your Lightwood went through something similar when she first dated a woman. The public loves causing a fuss, especially at the cost of others.”

“Yeah,” Clary murmured, faking a smile. “I know. It’ll be fine. We should get to hair and makeup before they come looking for us.”

Lydia sighed at her saddened demeanor but didn’t protest when Clary dragged her out of the small sitting room they’d been waiting in. She politely switched the subject as throngs of workers and interviewers milled around the space, asking Clary about the episode she was most excited to see come to life on screen.

Clary gladly grabbed onto the lifeline and answered, the idle chatter filling the hole in her heart as they got their hair done and their makeup touched up. Clary nervously ran her hands over the dress she’d chosen for the occasion, simple and black. Talk of her sexuality made her wonder if she should have done more, appeared more outwardly queer. It made her question if she should have done less, gone for something that could only be perceived as straight.

Either way, she knew she wouldn’t satisfy all of her fans. Ever since promotion had started being aired for A Restless Truth, a clear division had been drawn amongst those who had claimed to love her work.

There were those who thought she didn’t belong in a queer show when there were other ‘obviously queerer’ actresses who should have been given a chance. And then there were those who pushed and urged her to come out, to claim her spot, to finally give them the representation they wanted from her.

There were also those who despised the project as a whole, but Clary had decided to ignore them early on. She only remembered their existence when her mom would call her with another of her anxious rants, reminding Clary that she needed to be ‘careful about who she angered’.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t avoid all of her fans. They were always waiting when she least expected them, and she never quite knew what attitude she would get from them.

It was exhausting.

“You’re ready to go, doll,” her makeup artist told her, and Clary thanked her with a quick smile.

Lydia was waiting for her outside the room, along with Magnus and Mark, who’d been taken to the side before them on account of their pickiness and the length of their beauty routines. The three of them were talking quietly, and Clary was glad they didn’t stop when she joined, simply making room for her in the space they’d created.

They walked as a unit towards the small, beautiful room that had been set aside for this particular interview.

For all that Clary was nervous about the rumors and the whispers and the hate comments she’d been getting in the past few weeks, she wasn’t nervous about this particular interview. They’d done one for the first season with this media company and the interviewer who would be handling them today, and Clary had instantly loved them.

When she settled into her seat next to Lydia, in front of Magnus, she felt some of the stress fall from her shoulders.

The couch was comfortable, the company was exceptional, and she knew the snacks would be abundant.

“Ah, so happy to see you all again!” The interviewer, Lucie Herondale, beamed as she greeted them. “We’ve got so much to cover today, but how are we doing? I hear you’re all going to Queer in LA next month, so exciting! My best friend Cordelia was extended an invitation, you know.”

“Oh, Cordelia is such a dear,” Magnus said genuinely. “I’ll be glad to see her there. You’ll have to tell her to come find me.”

“Of course, of course,” Lucie smiled, then turned to Mark. “Mark Blackthorn, so nice to meet you! I’ve heard great things about you, and of course I loved your performance in Six of Crows. You hit all the character’s marks so perfectly.”

“Thanks,” Mark grinned at their praise. “I’ve heard equally good things about you, I’m sure. Magnus and Clary haven’t stopped gushing about you since we were told you’d be in charge of the interview today.”

“They’re too nice,” Lucie blushed. “And Lydia, good to see you joining such an amazing cast. When was the last time I saw you…?”

“It must have been Kiss her once for me, right?” Lydia pondered. Clary saw her relax into her seat as well, the four of them bathing in the positive energy Lucie was bestowing upon them.

And the cameras hadn’t even started rolling.

They made quick work of the prep after that, Lucie peppering them with questions about their lives and the other projects they’d been working on. She kept all of her professional inquiries about A Restless Truth to the side, not even hinting at what she would be asking them that day.

When Magnus tried to pry, she winked and told him he was much too experienced to still be tricking interviewers into revealing their secrets beforehand.

Clary was laughing by the time the cameras were turned on, and she had to take a second to calm herself as Lucie introduced them and got started on the first set of questions, the ones their team had given to Lucie’s team in order to begin the interview on the right foot.

Clary confidently recalled the day on set when she’d messed up half of her scenes because of the esteem she had for Lydia, and Lydia was quick to fire back with an explanation of the conversations they’d had later to steady Clary’s nerves. Magnus joked about Mark’s newness on set and the way he would improvise lines that their editors would have to cut, and Mark told Lucie about the time Magnus had moved every item in his room around, halting the shoot for the day once the producers realized none of their scenes would be consistent.

“We were exhausted,” Magnus explained when Lucie expressed genuine surprise over his behavior. “They thought we could get a final scene in for the day, but Mark and Clary were flagging, and even Lydia was messing her lines up. I thought I might as well make the process go faster, since I knew we’d be asked to go home sooner rather than later.”

They’d actually gone back to Lydia’s place for the first time that evening, and Clary had gotten tipsy enough that Izzy had had to come and pick her up, dodging questions from Mark and Magnus on her way out.

“You seem like you get along just as well as the cast from the first season did,” Lucie hummed happily. “It’s refreshing to see a cast with such wonderful chemistry. What do you think made that possible?”

“Oh, most certainly my incredible charisma,” Magnus winked. Lucie laughed before raising her eyebrows at him. “And perhaps the fact that the production and casting team were so careful when picking new talent. Lydia was an excellent choice; she brings experience to the table but also a sense of hopefulness that her character doesn’t always have. And Mark is the wildness we lost without Thomas and Alastair on set. He can’t make up for their chemistry, but he flirts with enough people to make up for it.”

“It helps that Clary and Magnus had already worked on a season together,” Lydia added. “Even if their interactions were limited, they knew how to guide us in the right direction and give us the sense of what the directors were looking for.”

“Penhallow truly is a mistress of her craft,” Lucie agreed. “And it’s nice to see that your dynamic is different to the one we noted during the first season. No romance on set, for one. I wonder what you thought about the change, Clary?”

“I think Magnus will agree when I say that it made our lives a hell of a lot easier,” Clary snorted. “Alastair and Thomas won awards for a reason, but the tension on set was sometimes unbearable. They didn’t actually get together until after the show aired, if you remember, and that was certainly… interesting for all of us.”

“Of course,” Lucie nodded. “Alastair’s coming out came as no surprise after the chemistry everyone noted between Thomas and himself, but I imagine the lot of you had been waiting even longer for their big reveal.”

“Certainly,” Lydia smiled. There was a sharpness to her gaze now, but either Lucie didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Clary would have banked on the second, since she knew Lucie would never cross any professional lines. If Lydia was worried about the rumors Clary had been fielding for the past few weeks, she was aiming her ire at the wrong person.

“Sexuality has always been the talk of the town for fans of the show,” Lucie said smoothly, meeting each of their gazes in turn, not lingering on any of them in particular. “Even now, fans are worried the show won’t do justice to a female couple the same way they did to Robin and Edwin in the first season. What do you think of the stigma around sexuality in media?”

Lydia opened her mouth, but Clary placed a gentle hand on her knee. Lydia’s eyes widened and her lips parted for a moment before she nodded understandingly.

“I can’t say I don’t see where our fans are coming from,” she answered with as much gusto as she could manage. “Women in media have always been a touchy subject, mostly because their representation has been mishandled so many times that it has become a source of anger for millions of viewers. This is even truer for queer women, who don’t have nearly the same pull as their male counterparts. When we started filming for this season, Jia actually took us aside with a group of queer actresses and writers alike so we could do justice to Maud and Violet’s characters.”

“How so?” Lucie prompted, and this time, Clary let Lydia take the lead.

“It always comes back to diversity of experience, doesn’t it?” She explained calmly. “Every queer woman has had a different road to the discovery of their sexuality. It happens in a unique way every time, and the same can be said about Maud and Violet. Even though I’m a queer woman with plenty of experience, it doesn’t mean I’d gone through exactly the same things that Violet did. Thankfully, I’m close enough in character to her that it didn’t feel like I was completely improvising the way she felt, but it was still something I had to approach delicately.”

“And Clary, did you feel the same way?” Lucie inquired.

It took Clary a second to gather an answer that didn’t feel either like a betrayal or a revelation.

The truth was, she wasn’t much like Maud’s character when it came to her sexuality. Clary had always known that she preferred girls, and it had never scared her. She’d never been ashamed of it, even when she’d purposefully chosen to hide it in order to further her career. However, despite their differences, she’d found she could relate to Maud’s hesitations and curiosity.

She tried to tap into that as she answered.

“I think I was very lucky to have an amazing team around me,” she said, hoping her voice wasn’t trembling in time with her hands. “We were all able to talk about Maud and the way she viewed life, and I think it made her character even more vibrant in the long-run. Every time we shot one of my scenes, I would remember something one of the other women had said during the early stages of pre-production, and it would push me through the scene. Knowing we’re providing representation to so many people out there also helped give the characters a purpose, no matter how unaware they were of it.”

And that was that.

Lucie didn’t push her about her sexuality, didn’t try to get an answer about the questions undoubtedly burning in her mind, and didn’t compare Lydia to Clary in any way other than the practical experience they had on set.

It was good.

Still, when Clary left the shoot that day, she felt eyes and whispers follow her everywhere she went. It was easy to decide where to go after that.

The set for Threads That Bind was darker than any of the sets Clary had ever worked on, but she relished in the shadows that let her walk by extras and crew members without having to worry about questions being shot her way.

She knew Izzy was filming an important scene that day, a flashback that would reveal some of her character’s intentions and show the audience that the world wasn’t quite as black and white as they liked to believe. Clary had read that specific chapter of the book ten times already; it was easy to imagine Izzy as a fury, looking to get retribution and revenge for the misdeeds that had been committed against her and her people.

However, even her imagination couldn’t do the real thing justice.

Izzy looked glorious in the outfit that had been designed for the occasion and, although she didn’t yet have the whip she would acquire later in the movie, Clary could imagine it at her side already, a broken thread for her to exact justice with.

They were between takes, Izzy talking lowly with a crew member, the script held between her hands. She pointed at a few lines from time to time, earning herself nods from the crew member and even a noise of approval from another actor waiting for her on the set. The main cast wasn’t present, leaving space for what had to be almost a hundred extras, ready for the next take.

Clary settled in on a chair not too far from everything, though far enough from everyone to remain mostly unseen. She’d signed in as a visitor and gone through all the proper procedures, but the admin weren’t the people she worried about. They wouldn’t harass her or question her presence. She couldn’t say the same for the extras that had been hired for the day.

Despite her relatively shadowed spot, the next take had barely started when she felt someone slump into the chair next to hers, crossing their legs in what had to be the most uncomfortable position Clary had ever seen.

She looked up to meet Maia Roberts’ warm eyes and cringed internally.

She wondered if Maia knew Clary was the reason Izzy had turned down their fake-dating contract. She wondered if she held it against her.

“Fray,” Maia grinned. “Long time, no see.”

“You too, Roberts,” Clary huffed back, amused by the unexpected formality. “I didn’t think you’d be on set today. Izzy mentioned you wouldn’t be involved in any scenes.”

“Eh,” Maia shrugged. “I like being around. Helps me stay in the zone when I’m practicing my lines. Besides, you know Izzy and I are doing the whole flirting bit for the cameras. The directors like having me on hand to fawn over Izzy.”

“Ah. Right. Yep.” Clary wished she could bury her face in her hands to counter her absolute lack of social skills. It had always been this way with Izzy’s fake dates; she found herself caught in an impossible balance, not sure what they knew and not certain what she was willing to share.

“She’s doing good, you know?” Maia stated, gracefully ignoring Clary’s internal panic. “She thinks everyone sees her as the she-devil, but they really don’t. The directors are impressed by her work ethic, and our castmates find her damn intimidating. She’s come a long way from where she was all those years ago.”

“She has,” Clary agreed. That, at least, wasn’t hard for her to admit to. “The two of you were what… 20 when you last acted together?”

“That would be it,” Maia smirked. “Iz was still so rattled by the scandal, she barely talked to anyone on set. My role was minor, so I wouldn’t have gotten to interact much with her on set anyway, but she was a legend. Everyone knew getting her to speak to you was a feat, and they counted every word as a victory.”

Clary smiled a little at the thought. At how far Izzy had come since then.

Sometimes, Clary knew Izzy still worried about her reputation. It showed when she refused to tell the world about their relationship, when she hesitated over fake dating contracts, when she heard a whisper of her name and tensed as though ready to take whatever criticism was thrown her way.

But truthfully, Izzy had curated a new image of herself in these past few years. The woman she was now shone on set, attracted proposals for big projects with a wide reach, and wasn’t afraid to lean into whatever idea people had of her.

It was that last point that Clary hoped to change soon.

Izzy deserved to feature in romance movies if that was what she wanted, even if she thought it would be safer for her to remain where she was, the villain and the temptress and the betrayer.

“This is a big one for you, isn’t it?” Clary asked once she realized she’d left Maia hanging. “Lead role, and a challenging one at that.”

“Yeah,” Maia said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. The scars there had been deemed unaesthetic by casters and reviewers in the past, but they worked perfectly for a movie like this one. Clary was glad to see her flaunt them. “Cordelia and Meliorn have been a great support through it all.”

“Oh god,” Clary choked on a laugh. “Is this a fake-dating reunion? Maureen’s part of this too, right? So that makes three of you who have experience with Izzy’s PR stunts.”

“They love teasing me about it,” Maia cracked up. “But honestly, it’s nice to have people around who know what’s going on. It’s so awkward having to navigate around it everywhere else, but those two don’t care. They’re just happy to have someone else to count as part of our strange little club.”

“They’re good ones,” Clary said, because they were. She’d never been close to them on account of not wanting to make things hard for Izzy, but Meliorn was a brilliant actor and Maureen was a close friend of Simon’s. They were all good people. Izzy wouldn’t have chosen them otherwise.

“You know, I’m surprised to see you on set,” Maia said a minute later. Her gaze was cautious, as though she wasn’t sure if Clary would hold her words against her. “Considering…”

For a moment, Clary thought she was talking about her relationship with Izzy. It was true that over the years, the two of them had been careful not to be too present in each other’s professional lives, mostly to keep the rumors at bay. However, it also wasn’t particularly exceptional to see them visit the other at work. Especially for Clary, whose projects had initially been fewer and further between than Izzy’s.

And then it hit her.

“I checked with Izzy this morning,” she answered, her chest tight. “He’s not scheduled for any scenes today, and I know damn well he doesn’t show up on set when he doesn’t have to.”

“You can say that again, sister,” Maia snorted. “They cast him perfectly. It takes a real dickhead to play an abusive, controlling asshole so well. No offense.”

“Oh, all the offense,” Clary waved off Maia’s concerns. “There’s no love lost between us. Jonathan can live his life however he wants. If that means being an ass to the people around him and having zero social life, then it’s none of my business.”

None at all, considering Clary had done everything in her power to avoid the man ever since he’d reappeared in LA a year and a half earlier. He’d gotten experience in Europe and had steadily found his place in the business as everyone’s least favorite villain. Her mother had only gotten more paranoid since then, but Clary had spun a delicate web of lies to let her mom believe Jonathan didn’t even know who she was.

Izzy had almost turned down this particular role when Jonathan’s name had come up. Clary had begged her not to, and now she spent her days wondering if he would suddenly pop up behind her shoulder and taunt her as he did when they were children.

“Besides, I want to see Izzy more than I want to avoid him,” Clary added. “She’s worth more than twenty of him.”

“Damn right,” Maia grinned. “You guys are lucky to have each other.”

“I– We don’t– I mean, yes,” Clary blushed. “We are.”

“You’re not terribly subtle, Fray,” Maia chuckled. “But luckily for you, neither is Izzy. I had her figured it out the second she said your name. It’s been a while since I last saw the two of you, but I should have realized it even then. Roommates, huh?”

“That’s what the history books say,” Clary blurted out before she could overthink it.

Maia’s chuckles turned to delighted cackles.

“Fuck the history books,” she said once she calmed down, and Clary nodded in agreement. “Though, I’m sure you’ll correct them someday.”

Clary hummed.

Part of her still longed to come out and tell the world that she held Izzy’s heart in her hands, but now that promotions for A Restless Truth had truly kicked off, she couldn’t help but think that Izzy had been onto something when she’d suggested they wait a while longer.

The jealousy she felt for Lydia had felt into a dull sense of panic everytime someone asked her if she was really gay or if she was faking it for the screen, and she couldn’t imagine how she would feel if they were asking her those questions about Izzy.

She couldn’t begin to fathom the pain she would experience if anyone dared to suggest what she had with Izzy was nothing more than publicity.

They would tell everyone someday soon.

Before that, Clary had to figure out how to tell the world that she wasn’t straight, thank you very much, but no, she didn’t want to discuss her sexuality or her love life or any of her ‘conquests’.

“Hey Maia, how did you–”

“My favorite girls!”

Izzy’s bright voice and wide grin cut Clary’s words off, and she wasn’t sure she’d have the courage to speak them into existence again. She snapped her mouth shut instead, feeling the rest of her tension melt away as Izzy approached them and immediately dragged her into a long hug, her arms warm and her grip tight despite their audience.

When she let go, she gave Maia’s hand a quick squeeze and her cheek a small peck, but Clary was surprised to find she didn’t mind the pretense when Izzy was still looking at her, her gaze warm and steady.

“We’re wrapping up for the day,” Izzy told them as she let go of Maia’s fingers and brushed against Clary’s instead. “You ready to go home?”

“God yes,” Clary whispered.

Izzy didn’t do anything then, didn’t do anything as they walked away from set, and she didn’t do anything as they greeted castmates and said goodbye to the extras that waved at them. However, the second they closed the door to her trailer, her arms were around Clary again. She tugged Clary’s head down to her shoulder and, when Clary started crying inexplicable tears of frustration and stress and overwhelming love, she held her close and didn’t let her go.

That evening, after a long nap, Clary woke to the smell of burned cookies and a sheepish girlfriend who offered them to her anyway, her clothes covered in flour.

They would tell everyone soon but, until then, Clary thought she didn’t mind the quiet love she’d grown to cherish with every fiber of her being.

Chapter Text

ROMANCE ON SET: Isabelle Lightwood dates Ari Bridgestock, Aline Penhallow and Helen Blackthorn announce relationship, Clary Fray finding love with Sebastian Verlac?

“Iz, stop!”

Izzy cackled as she ran after Clary, a handful of leaves fisted in her hands. Clary squealed as she closed in on her but swiftly dodged Izzy’s attempts at showering her in red and gold. Izzy let out an exasperated huff as her girlfriend danced victoriously, tugging playfully on Izzy’s ponytail as she sidled up to her.

“You’ll have to be quicker than that,” she grinned. “All that training for those intense movies and you can’t even keep up with me? How disappointing, Lightwood.”

“Careful what you say, Fray,” Izzy bit back, completely failing to hide her fondness for Clary’s antics. “Maybe I’ve been going easy on you. I don’t think you want to see what happens when I put my all into this.”

“Oh, I know what it’s like when you put your whole into things,” Clary said underneath her breath, earning herself a cuff to the back of the head. “I’m just saying! What, you’re going to punish me for telling the truth now?”

“You’re insufferable,” Izzy rolled her eyes.

Truthfully, if they hadn’t been out in public, she would have already pulled Clary in for a kiss. She was an infuriating woman, but she was also entirely Izzy’s, and Izzy found that meant all of her teasing and quips were made infinitely easier to tolerate.

How could she stay mad at Clary when she gazed up at her adoringly every time they saw each other, linked their arms together as they walked, and greeted her with a kiss as soon as they were far from prying eyes?

“I’ll only become more insufferable once the promotion for my show kicks off,” Clary said cheekily as Izzy looped her arm through Clary’s and set them back into motion, away from the group of teenagers who had gathered nearby. “I’m going to be the biggest name in the industry someday, Iz! People will go around whispering about Clary Fray and the amazing things she accomplished when she was young.”

“Of course they will,” Izzy nodded.

“And I’ll have my very hot, competent, impressive best friend next to me to receive whatever awards come my way,” she added, a mixture of amusement and bitterness coloring her tone. “We’ll be the world’s most beloved platonic power couple.”

“Not forever,” Izzy pointed out, and watched as a small smile tugged at Clary’s lips. “I mean, you’ll be my wife someday, won’t you?”

Clary choked on a breath, and Izzy’s heart stuttered before pounding in her chest.

It wasn’t as though they hadn’t alluded to their future together before. Izzy had been in love with Clary for a year, and she didn’t intend on stopping anytime soon. She knew that Clary felt the same way about her, which meant…

Well, one day, Izzy planned on putting a silver ring on Clary’s hand and professing her love to her in front of all their friends, family, and even the media if that was what it took for them to finally understand they’d always been far more than friends.

Clary had to have known that was what Izzy had in mind.

And if she hadn’t–

“I can see your mind working at ten thousand miles an hour,” Clary snorted. Her cheeks were flushed, appreciation and pleasure radiating from her in that distinctive glow of sunlight she emitted when she was in a good mood. “You’re right, of course. And everyone will feel like fools once they realize we managed to pull off the most impressive acting feat of our careers.”

Izzy breathed out a laugh.

She wasn’t sure how much ‘acting’ was involved when it came to their relationship.

The truth was, there was very little the two of them could have done to arouse suspicions. There’d been speculation at first – as there was with everything – but once Clary had made appearances at award shows and started promoting her first big show, those rumors had fallen to the wayside.

After all, how could someone like her, who kissed boys on screen and filled her audience with joy, be anything but perfectly straight?

It frustrated Izzy to see her sexuality be treated as such an absolute truth. She knew it upset Clary a hundred times more.

“I don’t know about the acting accolades we’ll get from it,” Izzy said out loud, watching as Clary smirked. “All it would take is a keen eye to realize I hold onto you a little longer than I do anyone else. And that kissing my cheek is an excuse for you to press yourself up against me in front of the cameras. And that we’re madly in love with each other.”

“Fair point,” Clary giggled. “I guess people see what they want to see. Still, if we don’t get any awards out of it, I’ll be secure in the knowledge that I’m dating the most amazing woman in all of Hollywood. All of LA, even! Maybe even the US of A, if we’re being honest with ourselves.”

“Alright, enough with the flattery,” Izzy rolled her eyes. “What’re you trying to get out of me, Miss Fray?”

“Free coffee?” Clary suggested, her eyes wide. “Another walk around the park? An invitation back to your place tonight?”

“As if I’d have it any other way,” Izzy scoffed. “You know you’re always invited, angel. The apartment is far more appealing when you’re in it. You add a little something extra to the décor, you know? Really hammer in the ‘gay’ aspect of it all.”

“Rightfully so,” Clary beamed, waving her hands over her body. “I mean, have you seen this? A work of art.”

“Absolutely,” Izzy said lowly, her eyes roving over Clary’s dips and curves. “A masterpiece, I’d say.”

A blush spread from Clary’s cheeks all the way up to the tips of her ears, and Izzy let out a victorious laugh. Her girlfriend looked stunning no matter what, but there was something extraordinarily appealing about her when she was flustered.

“Enough of that,” Clary slapped her arm lightly. “We’re in public.”

“I know, I know,” Izzy chuckled, raising her hands up in surrender. “How about I take you out for that coffee now? We can come back to the park afterwards if you still want to. Though really, this wind is turning into a real bitch.”

“Careful Lightwood,” Clary tutted playfully. “You’re starting to sound like a true Angeleno with complaints like that. Wasn’t it just two months ago that you were moaning and bitching about the heat, the humidity, the absolute atrocious summer weather you’d had to work through?”

“I’m a woman of multitudes,” she said simply, and hid her delight when Clary snickered at that, her arm snaking around Izzy’s waist almost unconsciously.

She let herself lean into it for a few seconds – just enough that it would still be acceptable if anyone were to snap a picture of them then – before shifting away, squeezing Clary’s hand once as she let her go.

Clary’s fingers trailed against hers in response, and she felt her entire body warm with pure love for this impossibly wonderful woman.

“You know, it’s a nice day for a date,” Clary said softly as they walked out of the park and towards their favorite local spot in Izzy’s neighborhood. The baristas were great about privacy, and Izzy had never run into issues with fans there.

They also made the best coffee cake she’d ever tasted – even better than Jace’s, though she would never dare tell her brother that.

“It’s a glorious day to take you out,” Izzy agreed. “Though, I almost wish I’d invited Simon along for our stroll in the park. It would have been perfect for those inspiration shots he’s been trying to take, don’t you think?”

“Oh,” Clary’s eyes lit up. “You’re so right! I’ll have to tell him about the spot and the weather and see if he can recreate the parameters some other day. You know, he promised me if he got any good pictures, he would show them to me and see if I could maybe paint something to go along with them. It’s been a while since I had some free time on my hands, but since the heavy promotion shoots won’t start for another month, I thought maybe I could… dabble.”

“You’ll do more than dabble,” Izzy said, gently flicking her girlfriend’s nose. “Everything you make comes out looking incredible.”

“Well,” Clary shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see. Si might not even be able to get the shots he was thinking of.”

“Please,” Izzy drawled. “He’s basically begging for an excuse to escape his rehearsals. You know, Raphael actually messaged me during our board game night last week and asked if I’d get Simon on a call with him. Apparently, he’s been dodging him when they’re in the studio on the same day.”

“Si and his stupid nerves,” Clary sighed. “I don’t know what he’s so worried about. He already knows Santiago loves his vocals, so what’s there to be afraid of?”

“You’re one to speak, Little Miss ‘I’ll never win an award after that terrible performance’ Fray,” Isabelle snorted. Clary turned to her with a look of utter betrayal, and Izzy only snorted harder, wishing she had a camera of her own to capture Clary’s expression in that moment.

“You’re awful,” her girlfriend grumbled, and Izzy bowed slightly as though she’d just been given the greatest compliment. “Oh, stop it with that. If you keep at it, I might find myself some plans for the night and decline that invitation you were so nice to extend.”

“Empty threats, Fray,” Izzy laughed. “So empty.”

And they were, but it didn’t stop Clary from sniffing haughtily and doing her best to ignore Izzy’s chatter as they neared the coffee shop. She didn’t quite manage, occasionally breaking character when Izzy murmured something about a passerby or snuck in a reference to one of their favourite shows, but Izzy admired her dedication to her ridiculous bit.

The smile dropped off her face suddenly when, a block away from the coffee shop, a firm hand grabbed the top of her free arm.

She wrenched herself away from the grasp before it could tighten, a familiar feeling of panic and disgust rising within her as she turned to look at whatever fan or journalist or scorned viewer had reached for her.

It was the one boundary she’d created after her scandal.

Before that, she hadn’t minded the touching and the occasional tap on her shoulder. It had felt like a compliment, a sign of recognition, something she should be grateful for.

But Izzy had been young then, still a teenager with dreams bigger than herself.

At 20, she didn’t stand for those kinds of encounters anymore. She’d spoken about it in interviews, had rebuked any fans who tried to bodily get her to move, and had repeated her simple demand until people had finally caught on.

Clearly, the two girls in front of her hadn’t gotten the memo.

“Sorry, sorry!” One of them said in a rush, her voice bordering on a squeal. “It’s just, you’re Isabelle Lightwood! Hi! Oh my god! I’m literally your biggest fan! I mean, I always preferred your brothers, but you’re super pretty and you make a great villain! I’m so excited to see you in We Hunt the Flame.”

“Right,” Izzy smiled tightly. “Do you want an autograph or a selfie or something?”

Anything to get them to go away quickly.

“Yes please!” The girl screeched, and Izzy hid a grimace as she complied, letting the girl get a quick snapshot of her before turning to look at her friend.

The girl was staring right back at her, a small furrow between her brows.

Not a fan, then.

“Well, it was good to–”

“Are you really dating Bridgestock?” She asked before Izzy could finish speaking. Next to Izzy, Clary stiffened, and Izzy wasn’t sure if it was due to the reminder of Izzy’s latest ‘conquest’ or the tone the girl had used.

“Ari and I are seeing each other, yes,” she answered calmly, not rising to whatever bait this girl was trying to set. “She’s been wonderful throughout this promotional period. She’s got a good way with words, and she’s better at diplomacy than I ever could be. Gets in the way of any nasty fans. I’m sure you get it, don’t you?”

“Not really,” the girl answered.

Izzy was reminded, not for the first time, that there was a certain liberty people started to take once they saw enough of a celebrity in the media. They began to believe they knew the person behind the screen, that they could talk to them as though they were old acquaintances instead of virtual strangers.

Parasocial relationships, Izzy grimaced, were the bane of her existence, no matter whether they were positive or negative.

“I have no idea why you even hang out with her, Clary. You definitely had the better idea,” the girl continued, as though she couldn’t see Izzy’s discomfort or sense the anger radiating off Clary. “Sebastian Verlac is a much more acceptable option. You know, Izzy, you wouldn’t have caused as big of a scandal if you’d stuck to men.”

Izzy’s jaw dropped. Even the girl’s friend seemed taken aback, her hand closing tightly against her phone. She took a step away from the girl almost reflexively, and Izzy thought she’d much rather be grabbed by her a dozen times than listen to her vile friend for a second longer.

“Oh really?” Clary snapped. “You know–”

“We’ve got to be going,” Izzy cut her off, her hand tightening around Clary’s arm.

There was a time and a place for coming out, and this wasn’t it. Clary had been waiting too long, had worked too hard to earn the industry’s esteem to toss it to the side for an idiotic fan who would gladly spread their interaction all over the internet if they gave her any fodder to do so.

“It was nice meeting you both,” Izzy added with a small smile for the first girl. “Have a good afternoon.”

She walked away before either of them could say anything again, dragging Clary along with her. Her girlfriend glared daggers as they crossed the remaining distance to the coffee shop, her grip on Izzy’s arm deadly.

It wasn’t until they walked through the shop’s door and were greeted by Em, one of Izzy’s favorite baristas, that Clary spoke again.

She marched them over to a booth, slammed her tote bag next to her, and fumed silently for another second before letting it all out.

“What a bitch,” she seethed. “I mean, who does she think she is, coming up to you like that and acting like a homophobic asshole? Why on earth does she think that’s acceptable? And her little friend, acting meek and embarrassed like she wasn’t the one who got them into that mess to begin with. Ugh, people fucking suck.”

“They do,” Izzy hummed in agreement, rubbing soothing circles over the back of her girlfriend’s hand and watching as the anger rose in and out of existence, something closer to disappointment flashing across her face as she finally settled down.

“I hate that you’re the one getting all this stupid hate,” Clary continued more quietly, her voice subdued. Her eyes were fixed on the small pack of napkins she’d placed in front of her, her fingers making quick work of shredding them. “Hell, I’m gayer than you are, and yet you’re the one having to deal with homophobes and biphobes and all sorts of other bigots who have never had an original thought in their lives.”

Izzy nodded but stayed silent.

“And it’s so dumb,” Clary shook her head ruefully. “I mean, seriously, I shouldn’t want to deal with it too, but I almost wish– At least if I was getting this type of hate, it wouldn’t feel like I was lying to myself. I mean, Sebastian Verlac, really? Is that the latest rumor they’re spreading?”

“You know how it goes, angel,” Izzy said softly. “It’ll be whichever man you’re working with, no matter how much or how little chemistry you may have with him. At least Seb is a decent guy. He’ll be quick to nip any rumors in the bud.”

“He shouldn’t have to,” Clary huffed. “I should be… I don’t know. Less afraid of coming out. More open to talking about my sexuality and what it means to be a queer woman in the industry. I mean, how will I ever represent myself in the media when there are women out there like you and Lydia Branwell who are already doing it bigger and better? I can’t even stand up to a homophobic fan.”

“You’re not supposed to stand up to them,” Izzy interjected immediately. Clary stared at her, bewildered, but Izzy didn’t back down. “Not in private like that. If it had been a public situation, sure. You’d have an audience, people to back you up, a reason to say something. But there was nothing to be earned out of that interaction today. She wanted to get a rise out of me.”

“Well, she managed to get a rise out of someone, that’s for sure,” Clary snapped. “You have to tell me if shit like this happens to you again, okay? You can’t keep it in. I know you’re acting like it’s fine, but it’s not.”

“I know, amor,” Izzy said, covering Clary’s hand with her own, spectators be damned. She trusted Em to keep any prying eyes away from them. “And I hate to say this, but it’ll probably only get worse from here on out.”

“That’s–”

“Just the truth, darling,” Izzy cut her off gently. “We’re going to award shows now. My scandal is fading and leaving space for people to remember the things about me that are actually true. It means I’m getting a bigger following, which means I’m more likely to run into people like that girl. The same goes for you.”

“Not like I’ll have to deal with homophobia,” Clary grumbled, and Izzy winced sympathetically.

She got it, she did, but she couldn’t lie to her girlfriend and tell her she would rather she get harassed for her sexuality.

Being in the closet was a pain in the ass, and she hoped someday Clary would feel ready to tell the world who she truly was, but there were certain advantages to being the ‘straight girl’. If it meant a few more years of peace before the storm for Clary, Izzy would gladly take the brunt of the snide comments and verbal abuse.

“I’m just saying,” Izzy sighed, “there will always be assholes in this world, alright? I’ve taken far worse than those petty insults, so I’d rather just… not worry about them. You said it yourself; it’s the perfect day for a date. Don’t let them ruin it.”

“When I come out, they’ll be eating their words,” Clary breathed out, and Izzy laughed, surprised. “I’m serious! They’ll have to think back on this day and realize they were being utter buffoons.”

“They’ll be mortified,” Izzy said mock-seriously, and grinned as Clary finally deflated, her anger turning to sheepishness and her resentment to something lighter. There was still a flame there, and Izzy knew it would most likely stay there until she came out and proved everyone wrong, but it wasn’t burning nearly as bright.

“Okay, so I might need you to give me some coaching on what to say in situations like those,” her girlfriend said with an embarrassed smile. “Not that I’m saying I wouldn’t have handled that with tact even if you hadn’t been there, but… just in case?”

“Of course, angel,” Izzy chuckled. “By the time that big award show comes around next month, you’ll know the best cutting remarks to use when someone is trying to subtly be a bigot.”

“Perfect,” Clary said, her smile turning devious. “I think I can even come up with a few of my own.”

“Hit me with them.”

Clary launched into them without hesitating and, by the time Em came to their table to ask if they wanted to order something, having obviously noticed their distraction when entering the shop, Izzy was holding back tears of laughter.

Her girlfriend was ridiculous and far too blunt for her own good and perhaps a little oblivious when it came to the things fame entailed, but she made up for all of it with her ability to turn even the most frustrating of situations into something to laugh about.

Come hell and darkness and homophobia and high water, Izzy knew Clary would always be there to brighten her world.

Chapter Text

THE TRUTH BEHIND CLARY FRAY: As Queer in LA event approaches, Jonathan Morgenstern expresses concern over darling sister Clary Fray

The figure in the mirror looked back at Clary in flashes of gold light.

As she twirled one way, the dress followed, leaving a shimmering trail of glitter everywhere she moved. The fabric lay thickly over her shoulder, and she resisted the urge to pick at it and play with it, knowing her stylist would murder her if she did anything to mess with the integrity of the dress.

The event would start in less than an hour. Usually, Clary was one for punctuality. It was Izzy who got them behind schedule, always finding something to add to her outfit as they were about to leave.

But Izzy had always been on time to Queer in LA. She’d even made the effort to show up early the year before – and the year before that. Fans would wait for her outside the venue, little bisexual flags painted on their cheeks and pinned to their outfits, and Izzy would soften as she talked to them.

It had been one thing to see it when Clary was just there as Izzy’s plus one. She knew it would be ten times more intense to experience it as an official guest. There would be expectations and demands, and the fans would have questions – always questions – and complaints – always complaints.

Years ago, Clary had envied Izzy these interactions. She’d wanted the full experience of being a queer actress, with all the benefits and drawbacks it entailed.

Now, she found herself staring at her reflection and wondering how she was going to make it through the night.

She looked stunning, of course; her stylist had picked her dress carefully and Izzy had done her makeup to match, and neither had disappointed her. She was a vision. She would stand out on the red carpet, would get questions about her outfit during her interviews, and would certainly dazzle the press with her looks.

Unfortunately, it was her mind that found itself muddled now.

A knock cut through her thoughts, and she gave her dress one last pat as she opened the door and let Izzy into their bathroom.

If she was a vision, her girlfriend was like divine royalty descended on earth. Her hair was down in beautiful, dark waves, and her dress shimmered in the light. She looked like a Cinderella retelling, but with a hint of danger that only Izzy knew how to turn into something seductive rather than intimidating.

“Fuck, Clary,” Izzy breathed out as she took her in. “You outdid yourself this time. How am I supposed to look at anything other than you while we’re out there?”

“Oh, don’t hold back on my account,” Clary smirked, confidence cracking through her wall of self-doubt despite her best efforts to keep it under control for the night. Overconfidence would do nothing but cause problems for her. “I’ll probably be doing the same thing to you, my love. At least this way, the reporters will have something to write about. ‘Drama between roommates? Clary Fray and Isabelle Lightwood exchange tense looks all throughout event.’”

“That’s a tame one,” Izzy laughed softly, gently placing her hands on Clary’s shoulders and leaning in to kiss her forehead, then her cheeks, and finally her lips. “I was thinking something along the lines of ‘Has Isabelle Lightwood finally fallen for the untouchable angel? Heartbreak is on the horizon for the tempting villainess’. You know they want to go bigger for events like this one.”

Queer events. Events where everyone in attendance had at some point in time defied expectations and proved themselves to be more than ordinary. They were the people Clary had admired from a distance and had always longed to join, and now she was one of them.

Lydia would be waiting for her on the red carpet, and interviewers would be expecting her to give insightful answers about her role as a queer woman in a significant piece of media. Fans would be looking at her hopefully, probingly, trying to spot any cracks in the image she’d created for herself.

Sometimes, she wished she could take those cracks and turn them into a single, gaping hole. Perhaps then the truths would pour out of her and she wouldn’t have to dance and skirt around the hundreds of little secrets she was keeping to herself.

“This feels bigger than anything I’ve done before,” she told Izzy, her words barely more than a whisper. “I think even the Oscars would feel less intimidating at this point.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Izzy shook her head, taking Clary’s hands in her own and rubbing her fingers comfortingly. “You look stunning, your acting speaks for itself, and you’ve done a brilliant job in every interview so far. You know better than to let any of the pressure and speculation get to you.”

“Maybe,” Clary shrugged. “But you saw the things Jonathan said in that interview, and he–”

“Is worthless,” Izzy cut her off with a sigh. “Seriously, angel, no one cares what your brother has to say. They didn’t give a damn when he told them you were related, and they won’t give a damn now. Calling you a liar and an attention-seeker won’t do anything but earn him a reputation as a backstabbing asshole who won’t even stand up for his little sister.”

“If my mom hears about this, she’ll freak,” Clary winced. Thankfully, her mother had stopped paying attention to the industry as soon as she’d left it to escape her abusive husband, but Clary knew there’d be a day when her name would reach her mother’s ears, and Jocelyn Fray would realize her darling daughter hadn’t been entirely honest with her.

“Alright, enough of this worrying,” Izzy huffed, delicately dragging Clary out of their bathroom and towards their kitchen instead.

Clary stopped at the sight of a cake waiting on the countertop. It was lopsided and the color of the frosting left something to be desired, but it was only further proof that Izzy had actually gone out of her way to make it herself rather than asking a professional to do it for her.

“A celebration?”

“Your first appearance in the industry’s official queer community,” Izzy grinned. “I made it at Simon’s place, since I know you’ve forbidden me from using the space here. Didn’t want to accidentally set fire to your favorite place in the apartment.”

“My favorite place is in bed with you, thank you very much,” Clary pointed out with a wink, though she melted internally at the thought of Izzy going all the way to Simon’s house just to respect the boundaries she’d put in place years ago – the only thing Izzy was allowed to attempt in their kitchen were cookies and simple dishes like pasta. “This is lovely, Iz. Though I have to say, you’ll have to be careful not to get too good. If you get any better than this, I might have to put you on dinner duty from time to time.”

“And if you do, I’ll be happy to order us pizza,” Izzy chuckled, taking out a knife and sticking her tongue out as she cut a thin slice of cake. The layers inside were pale and hard to identify, but Clary reckoned it would be– “Coconut and vanilla. The frosting is buttercream, of course. Simon might have helped a tiny bit.”

“I’m sure he did,” Clary laughed. “I’ll thank him tonight.”

“Oh, I’d give him a wide berth at the event,” Izzy grimaced as she slid the first slice towards Clary, cutting a slightly bigger piece for herself. “He was already peeved this morning, and I doubt it’ll have gotten any better as the day passed.”

“What’s he peeved ab– oh,” Clary sighed, caught between exasperation and a touch of pity for her best friend. “I don’t know what he was thinking, asking Santiago to come along as his date.”

“I don’t believe he was thinking at all,” Izzy snorted. “He’s not even interested in the man. He should have phrased it in a distinctively friendly manner so Raphael didn’t get any weird ideas. Instead, the two of them are going to have to dance around each other for weeks before Simon gets a chance to clarify what he meant.”

“I’m sure he’ll think twice about the way he phrases things in the future,” Clary rolled her eyes. “Then again, probably not. He’s always been the type to get burned a million times and still not learn his lesson. Ridiculous man.”

“Not a bad one, though,” Izzy smiled, and Clary returned the expression around a mouthful of coconut cake. “I’ve asked Jace to keep an eye on him.”

“Oh my god!” Clary exclaimed, hastily swallowing her bite. “He made it?! Isabelle Lightwood, how dare you forget to tell me that my very favorite Lightwood sibling is in LA right now!”

“To be fair, he got here two hours ago,” Izzy drawled, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Clary, who only smiled deviously at her girlfriend. “You’re awful, Miss Fray. You’ll get to see plenty of Jace this weekend. He’s staying with Simon, but I told him I’d ask you if he could crash on Monday night before his flight on Tuesday.”

“Of course,” Clary grinned, eagerness suddenly taking over the earlier anxiety.

Jace was in the closet too, and it made Clary feel just the tiniest bit better to know that she wouldn’t be the only one there being mistaken for a straight ally.

“Okay, okay, one more slice of cake and then we actually need to go!” She added, smiling wider when she noticed Izzy’s cheeks pink with pleasure at her decision to go for seconds. “The cake is amazing, my love.”

“I wanted you to have something special,” Izzy said softly. “You’re always making little treats for me when we’re celebrating one of my wins, and this feels like a big one for you. Bigger than the Oscars, apparently.”

Clary slapped her arm gently but gladly leaned into the embrace when Izzy caught her hand and pulled her closer. They fit together perfectly, and Clary closed her eyes as vanilla and coconut melted in her mouth. Her girlfriend smelled just like the cake, something sweet and flavorful and enticing.

She hummed happily when Izzy took her empty plate from her and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, her heels giving her the extra inches that usually made the gesture impossible for her.

“I’m proud of you,” Izzy murmured.

“For what?” Clary asked, her brows furrowing as she looked up to meet Izzy’s molten gaze.

“Accepting a role outside of your comfort zone,” Izzy replied quietly. “Speaking up in interviews when you would have usually stayed quiet. Coming to this event even though I know it terrifies you to be so openly out in the community.”

“Oh,” Clary blushed. “They’re just– It’s not much. Nothing like what you’ve been doing. I mean, you’ve been at this for years. In comparison…”

“Eh, comparing is for losers,” Izzy said frankly. Clary let out a snort at her tone, even as she felt her ears grow warm. “You’ve gone about it at your own pace, and now you’re going to go out there and knock everyone’s socks off. Whether they think you’re straight or queer, they’re going to realize your acting is phenomenal enough for it not to matter. After all, you’re just as convincing when you’re kissing men as you are when you’re kissing women.”

“Though not nearly as convincing as I am when I’m kissing you,” Clary added smoothly, curling her left hand behind Izzy’s neck as she pulled her down for a kiss, swallowing the small noise of surprise she made at the unexpected move.

She relished in their kiss for a few minutes, Izzy’s lips soft and sparkly from the thin layer of lipstick she’d applied that evening. Izzy’s hands were tight on her hips, and Clary knew her girlfriend was already thinking about ways to excuse their tardiness. Not that Clary would let it happen; as tempting as Izzy was, she wouldn’t miss the beginning of the Queer in LA event for the world.

It was with that in mind that she finally leaned back, pressing a small peck to Izzy’s pouting lips as she let go of her girlfriend.

“Later, my love,” she smiled. “Right now, we have an event to get to. You might not have anyone waiting for you there, but Lydia won’t let me hear the end of it if I’m not with her by the time the carpet officially begins.”

“Fine,” Izzy said, though Clary could still feel her pouting when she turned around to search for the handbag she’d picked for the occasion. “It’s not nearly as fun going to these events when the only person I’m allowed to flirt with is Maia. I know she’s cool and everything, but everything would be much more enjoyable if you were the one next to me.”

“I know,” Clary said, something in her gut twisting at Izzy’s words.

Guilt, maybe. Frustration. Some of that anxiety coming back in waves.

Whatever it was, she forced it back down as she found her handbag and turned to her girlfriend with a wide smile.

“Now, kiss me one more time before we leave?”

Izzy obliged.

For a second, Clary let that be enough to drag her away from her worries and the strange bitterness threatening to burn her heart.

She pushed it down, and down, and further down until it was nothing more than a blip at the back of her mind.

She refused to let it ruin this event for her.

Someone had invited Jonathan along.

Clary had tried her best to ignore him but, when she’d caught him staring at her while she and Lydia talked about their outfits with a fashion reporter, she’d slipped for a second and glared at him, instantly regretting it when she saw his teeth flash in a smile.

Her brother was a dick, and she shouldn’t have let him get underneath her skin with his words and his heavy gazes and his tendency to make a nuisance out of himself everywhere he went. It wasn’t as though he knew anything about her sexuality; none of the accusations he’d made against her queerbaiting held any value. He was just a straight, white man looking to cause a stir in the only way he knew how.

All of those things didn’t help calm Clary’s heart as she went from person to person, mingling and exchanging words with her castmates in between short interviews with queer journalists she’d long since admired.

Lydia had noticed her jitteriness and had asked if Clary needed a few minutes to collect herself, but she hadn’t wanted to miss out on a single second of the event. Instead, she’d found Izzy’s eyes in the crowd and had felt some of her tension disappear when her girlfriend had caught her gaze, winked at her, and blown a kiss in her direction.

Maia had laughed next to her, waving at Clary, and it had felt like stepping into the sun for a few seconds after a rainy day.

She walked up to the next interviewer, flinching when she noticed some fans nearby, lingering at the edges of the red carpet, one of them holding a sign proclaiming that straight women had no place in queer movies. Clary’s face had been drawn cartoonishly next to the words, and she turned away from them sharply, almost sending her elbow flying into Lydia’s ribs.

“Miss Fray, Miss Branwell!” The interviewer beamed as the pair reached them. They’d been waiting patiently near the end of the carpet. Just a few more questions and Clary would be able to step inside and forget about this exhausting portion of the evening.

She hoped it would be calmer once they left the fans behind, though she knew better than to hope for a peaceful night. Queer in LA was not known for being tame, and it certainly wasn’t known for being quiet.

“Good evening ladies, you’re looking stunning today!” The interviewer continued, smiling brighter when Lydia leaned in for a half-hug, her black dress hugging her curves and giving the cameras something to look at even when she settled back into her place next to Clary.

She wondered what they looked like, shimmering in black and gold. She hoped she looked even slightly as confident as Lydia did, or even half as radiant as Izzy did just a few paces behind them. She was posing, her dress draped around her elegantly, and Clary could see eyes follow her everywhere she went.

She couldn’t be blamed for letting her gaze stray, not when her girlfriend walked around looking that good. Especially not when she turned around and stared straight at Clary as though she’d felt her eyes on her all along.

Clary blushed as Lydia elbowed her, her thoughts on Izzy in her silvery-blue dress.

“Miss Fray, this is your first time at Queer in LA, isn’t it?” The interviewer asked her politely, and she shook herself, determined to get through this set of questions without fumbling. “How are you finding it so far?”

“It’s a lot more than what I’m used to,” Clary answered honestly, plastering a semi-genuine smile onto her face. “And far more impressive, too. I mean, I’ve been here before, but it’s something else to have been invited as an official guest. It makes the lights look brighter and the event feel even more important. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be a part of it. I’ll relish the experience for the rest of my life.”

“High praise coming from someone so new to the queer scene!” the interviewer exclaimed, and Clary tensed despite herself.

Lydia shot her a sideways look, but the tension that had been rising within Clary had come back full force. She knew the interviewer’s words were mostly harmless, just like she knew the cameras couldn’t tell how uncomfortable she was, but everything felt amplified here. Every flash and every question felt like a jab, a pointed accusation, as though the entire world was looking at Clary and waiting for her to say the wrong thing.

Of course I’m not queer, she would say, and thousands of viewers would jeer, cry out, tell her she would never belong.

I am entirely and utterly gay, she would announce, and they would all descend into madness, claiming she was lying, claiming she was telling the truth but should have been brave enough to say it earlier.

“Miss Fray?”

“Sorry,” Clary cleared her throat, laughing awkwardly. Her fingers trembled, and she grasped Lydia’s hand gratefully when it reached out for her. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little more nervous than I thought I’d be.”

“Understandable, considering the circumstances,” the interviewer hummed. Clary wished she’d caught their name instead of daydreaming and looking at Izzy. She would have felt more at ease if she’d had a name to put to the face. “I mean, Queer in LA isn’t for the faint of heart, and you’ve had the added stress of petty rumors following you for weeks.”

“Right,” Clary’s smile strained. “Yeah. It’s been hard, especially with all the promotional work we’ve been doing for A Restless Truth. I never want speculation to overshadow the importance of the show and the representation we’re trying to achieve in it.”

“Of course,” the interviewer nodded. “Your characters have incredible significance to many young girls out there. I know the fans were worried the show wouldn’t get renewed for a second season, which means the expectations grew even bigger once it was confirmed.”

“It was a riot,” Lydia interjected, her voice light and her eyes bright. “But honestly? We loved it. Fans would try to catch sight of us on set, and Clary and I would have to go around with robes so they wouldn’t see the fantastic outfits our stylists designed. Of course, it was nothing compared to the outpouring of love we received when the trailer aired. One of the best moments this year, that’s for certain.”

“We were so glad to see people fall for Maud and Violet just like we did when we read the script,” Clary added, the rhythm of their prior interviews hammering the answers into her brain despite her lack of focus. She’d gone through the motions of this dance so many times already, she could have done it in her sleep.

She just needed to stay on track.

Thankfully, the interviewer toned down their questions after that. They asked about their iconic moments on set, their favorite castmates, and the scenes they were most excited for the fans to react to.

Clary laughed when she needed to, nodded when it was appropriate, and kept her smile up the whole time even as her heart pounded and Lydia’s fingers squeezed her from time to time, a clear reminder to keep it together for a few minutes longer.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Fray, Miss Branwell,” the interviewer said when they were done, accepting another hug from Lydia and shaking Clary’s hand with gusto and something close to a worried smile. “I hope the night treats you well. Don’t let all of this hubbub get to you, Miss Fray, I assure you you’re doing wonderfully.”

“Thanks,” Clary breathed out, and then she was letting Lydia drag her away.

They’d almost made it inside – so damn close to being away from this interminable red carpet – when someone stopped them.

For a moment, Clary saw dark hair and thought Izzy had come to save her.

But her girlfriend was twenty paces away now, her brows furrowed as she looked at Clary. Maia had an arm looped through hers as they chatted with some of their castmates, and though the sight of it didn’t make Clary jealous as it would have a few years ago, when she’d still felt unsure about their relationship, it stirred something within her regardless.

“- so happy to win the giveaway!” The girl that had accosted them was saying. Lydia had kept her distance from her, so Clary did the same, tilting her head curiously at the girl’s unfamiliar face.

“Ah yes, a great opportunity,” Lydia answered, her smile taut. “It’s nice to see fans enjoying themselves at events like these, though I’m sure you understand we have to move on and make sure we hit all the right marks for the evening. It was lovely meeting you, though. Wishing you a pleasant evening.”

“Right, right,” the girl nodded, but she moved closer to them when Lydia made to step away.

There was nothing predatory about the fan. Her eyes were wide and genuine, her smile sparklingly joyful, and her hands loose at her sides. And yet, Clary desperately wished to get out of this interaction.

“It’s just, it’s so rare for us to see queer women on screen,” the fan continued, looking straight at Lydia. “And Violet is an amazing character to see brought to life. You did her justice in the trailer, and I’m sure the same is true for the rest of the show. She shines so brightly! She’s got so much spunk and energy! Of course, sexuality isn’t something you can feel through a screen, but I could feel how much she desired Maud from the get-go. I can’t wait to see how much more you do with the time you were given!”

“I appreciate that,” Lydia said, her tone genuine. “I’m glad you could see yourself in Violet. I know she and Maud will resonate for a lot of people.”

“Of course, of course,” the fan nodded, her gaze flicking briefly to Clary before honing back in on Lydia. “It’s just, there’s something special about it being you, you know? You’re such a big name in the queer community, and it’s always such a treat to watch you give a voice to other marginalized characters.”

“Clary’s voice is equally as important,” Lydia frowned slightly.

Clary’s blood was rushing in her ears.

“Well yeah, but it’s… not the same,” the fan said lamely. “I’m sure you get it, Clary. Not that it’s anything against you, but–”

She was still speaking, but all Clary could hear was her heartbeat quickening, pounding against every fiber of her being, and the overwhelming knowledge that even at a space where she should have belonged, she felt like an outsider.

She wanted to be with Izzy, holding her hand and laughing and telling her how radiant she looked.

“– representation can happen in different ways, though I personally think some are bound to be more accurate than others based on life experience. You know?”

“Sure,” Clary said, her voice louder than she’d expected. Everything felt miles away. “Though I’m not sure if that applies in this situation, since I’m just as much of a lesbian as Lydia is. So really, if you think her portrayal of Violet is brilliant, I’m certain you’ll enjoy Maud just as much. I tried to put as much of myself into the role while filming, and I think it shows in the final product. A queer woman discovering herself and finding love along the way? Yeah, I think it’ll resonate with plenty of people.”

She felt flushed, her cheeks heated and inexplicable tears burning her eyes. Everything about her was too hot, too much, and Lydia’s grip on her hand was suddenly too much.

The fan in front of her was gaping. When Clary swiveled around, she noticed the small crowd of actors, reporters, and even the small groups of fans at the edge of the red carpet staring at her.

Sweat dripped down her back, and her hands shook.

She’d said things, she realized, that she wouldn’t be able to take back.

Her eyes found Izzy’s in the mass of people; her girlfriend was already heading towards her, having obviously sensed something was amiss.

Clary all but ran towards her and, when Lydia called her name, she didn’t look back.

Fuck, she thought.

She collapsed into Izzy’s arms, trembling all over, and let her girlfriend guide her away from the chaos she’d left behind.

Chapter Text

ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD: Castmates question the actress’s ability to stay away from scandal after blow-up on set

It had been a stupid mistake.

Izzy had had every intention not to cause any trouble on the set of her new show, even with Camille Belcourt around. She’d only been booked for a few episodes as a side character, and she’d thought it would be an easy few shoots to get through before she could go on to other, better things.

Of course, she hadn’t accounted for Belcourt being an absolute bitch to her on purpose.

She’d thought they were over the petty encounters of their youth, when Belcourt had snidely commented on Alec and Izzy’s sexualities, had needled Jace about his place in their family, and had repeatedly proven that she wasn’t worth more than the dirt off Izzy’s shoes. Belcourt had moved to LA when Izzy had been seventeen, and she’d successfully avoided her since then.

She should have known things wouldn’t go well with her around. Belcourt’s name and reputation were tricky ones to get around. She wasn’t well-liked amongst other actors and crew members in the industry, but she had a certain charm that pulled her fans in. It was a vicious kind of love she had for them, pulling them in with sweet words before tearing them down at every corner.

Her fans supported her through it all, even when it was their names and faces being dragged through the mud.

So really, Izzy should have kept her cool. Even when Belcourt had hissed insults about Magnus Bane, she should have let it go. Magnus was a wonderful man, but he was still just an acquaintance. It shouldn’t have gotten to her so much, hearing Belcourt talk about their past relationship so viciously, but Izzy had thought about kind Magnus, who only ever had good things to say about others, and she’d lost it.

In hindsight, she shouldn’t have grabbed Belcourt’s delicate dress. She had known it would most likely tear, and she’d done it anyway. When the fabric had ripped, she’d been momentarily pleased by her successful stunt.

But then she’d watched Belcourt’s face turn red, had heard the vitriol being thrown her way by the insufferable actress, and she’d known she should have kept her hands to herself.

Belcourt had screamed until Izzy had snapped, yelling right back about the woman’s inability to think about anyone but herself, and she’d breathed loudly into the following silence.

Belcorut had been shocked, and Izzy had been caught between horror and satisfaction. After all, she’d never been able to defend herself when she was younger, and it felt good to finally stand up for every version of herself Belcourt had ever put down. However, there was a reason she’d been quiet.

Her mother and Alec had whispered it to her when they were alone, reminding her that there was power in the kind of superfluous beauty Belcourt benefitted from, even more so than the dark beauty Izzy had inherited. Telling her that it would be better for her to keep her head down so she wouldn’t be associated with a name like Belcourt’s. Pleading her not to talk back, because what good would it do? All it would get her were trouble, headlines from the press, and a reprimand from her agent.

They’d been right, of course.

Lily had been the first to call her after the fallout, telling her she’d been pulled from the show – Belcourt was one of their stars, and Izzy nothing but a replaceable side character. She’d also laid into Izzy and reminded her that they’d worked hard to get her to where she was now, and Izzy had sunk deeper into her bed.

She’d stayed there for hours, staring at her phone. Tweets and comments and DMs had come flying, all of them accusatory and full of blame tossed her way. Belcourt was a known menace, some of them said, and Izzy really shouldn’t have stooped down to her level. Izzy was crazy and obviously still on drugs, others claimed, or she wouldn’t have exploded when she should have been behaving like a professional.

Out of line, they screamed in caps lock. Just as worthless as Belcourt, they whispered in private messages she should never have opened. Camille should have put her in her place, they hissed in message threads.

She turned her phone off after three hours, tossing it to the side and curling up underneath her blankets, wishing for the heat of Californian summers so she could disappear to Simon’s house, bury her feet in the sand, and forget all about her stupid decisions and her stupid reputation and her stupid tendency to speak before she had time to think.

She didn’t get out of bed until a knock interrupted her maudlin thoughts and forced her to trudge over to the hall.

A quick look out of the peephole revealed the only face she wanted to see right now, and she gladly threw the door open.

Clary’s arms were wrapped around her before she could so much as greet her girlfriend, and she buried herself in her strawberry-scented hair with a relieved sigh. The door clicked shut behind Clary, the world disappearing for good now that Izzy had the woman she loved by her side.

Clary kissed the crown of her head, then her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips, stroking Izzy’s cheeks gently. Tears had fallen there without Izzy noticing, and she felt herself tremble as Clary got rid of the evidence without a single chastising word.

“Well,” her girlfriend finally whispered, leading Izzy to her couch rather than her bedroom. Izzy looked longingly at the sliver of her bed she could still see from the living room, but she knew better than to protest. She’d been in there all afternoon. “The media sure knows how to make a mess of things, huh?”

“And me,” Izzy added, her voice cracking from disuse and hours spent silently crying. “I mean, I definitely messed up. Belcourt is the worst kind of human there is, and I shouldn’t have ever engaged with her.”

“You were filming with her,” Clary pointed out, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like you could have avoided her the whole time. Besides, I’ve met Belcourt before, and even I had some choice words for her. I’m not nearly as brave as you are, so I kept them to myself, but she probably deserved whatever you threw her way.”

“She’s just–” Izzy breathed out, shaking her head in annoyance. “I don’t know why people are so eager to defend awful women simply because they’re attractive and know how to stroke a few egos. She was talking about Magnus, you know?”

“She always is,” Clary snapped. “It’s funny. When they broke up, Magnus was the one drowning in sorrow. Mum would let him come to the house whenever he wanted, and he always looked miserable. But now, he’s out there thriving and Belcourt spends her days reminiscing. She’s pathetic.”

“But powerful,” Izzy pouted a little. Her frustration simmered beneath the surface but, more than anything, she was tired. Tired of having to pander to people who didn’t mean anything to her and exhausted from the amount of false smiles she had to put on in order to get others to respect her. “I’m going to be hearing about this for a while.”

“Maybe,” Clary shrugged. “But there are plenty of fans out there who respect the hell out of what you did today. I know you’re probably swimming in negativity right now, but I promise you haven’t suddenly become public enemy number one. I know most of my fans were cheering when they saw that leaked video.”

The damned video. It had most likely come from an extra, and Izzy would have paid big money to get her hands on them and break their phone. If there was one thing she hated about being famous, it was seeing her face in a picture or a video she hadn’t even known existed.

“My fans are fine with it too,” Izzy admitted, though her heart still felt heavy. “But they’re not the ones that matter right now. I mean, they do, of course they do, but they’re… They don’t control the industry. They don’t handle my paychecks and my outreach, and they certainly won’t be able to do anything when Belcourt makes it her mission to ruin my life.”

“As long as you don’t give her anything to use as fodder…”

“Easier said than done, isn’t it?” Izzy sighed, leaning deeper into Clary’s embrace, wishing her couch was bigger so she could properly bury herself into her girlfriend’s body, turning them into a single blob rather than two separate bodies. “She’s a leech and a pest. If she wants to find me, she will, and then she’ll latch on and find something to say about me. She’ll probably try to get me to blow up again.”

“So you won’t,” Clary said simply. Her hands rubbed soothing circles on Izzy’s back, and she relaxed a little despite herself. “I know you lost it a bit today, but you won’t let it happen again. I know you, Isabelle Lightwood, and you’re not the type to make the same mistake twice. Belcourt, on the other hand, will someday offend the wrong person and finally get what’s been coming for her all along.”

“Ah, how wonderful,” Izzy drawled sarcastically. “Waiting for karma to kick in. We’ll be here for a hundred years and Belcourt will still be standing, giving out charming smiles and backhanded compliments as though it’s her driving force.”

Clary giggled at that, and Izzy’s annoyance faded ever-so-slightly.

Damn her girlfriend’s laugh to hell. It was impossible to stay in a bad mood when Clary was next to her.

“Hey, you know I love you?” Clary asked, booping her nose. Izzy scrunched her nose up at the tap and felt her insides turn to mush. “I think you’re incredible, and I’m so proud of you for standing up to Belcourt. And if it makes you feel any better, I think you defending our friends is ridiculously hot. Like, seriously, nothing is more attractive than knowing my girlfriend would rather get fired than let someone speak poorly about the people she loves.”

Izzy snorted.

“I’m serious!” Clary laughed, pressing a kiss to the corner of Izzy’s lips. When she spoke again, she was much closer to Izzy, their mouths almost touching and their eyes inches apart. Izzy could see the light reflecting in Clary’s green gaze. It was mesmerizing. “You make me want to be better, my love.”

“You’re already the better one of us,” Izzy retorted immediately, grinning as she watched Clary’s cheeks redden in real time. She was so close, she thought she could almost feel the heat radiating off her girlfriend. “And I think your ability to hold back instead of shouting the first words that come to your mind is very, very attractive.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we’re dating then, huh?” Clary grinned.

“A very good thing,” Izzy hummed, bridging the gap between their mouths and sighing when Clary turned her peck into a searing kiss. Fire sang through her blood, the tension in her body turning to pure delight.

“It’s also a good thing we’re already in your apartment,” Clary added as she pulled away, her hands tight on Izzy’s waist. “I hope you’ve been warming your bed this afternoon, darling, because I have plans for us.”

“Oh, I do love your plans,” Izzy said lowly, watching as Clary’s eyes dilated further. “Should I lead the way?”

Clary tugged her up as an answer, and Izzy let out a surprised laugh, stumbling into her girlfriend as Clary eagerly dragged her towards her bedroom.

There were still messages waiting on her phone, missed calls from Lily, emails from the press, but it was easier to ignore them now.

She had better things to do with her day than worry about Camille fucking Belcourt.

“Clary, please tell me I’m hallucinating.”

Izzy had covered her eyes with her hands, her heart having dropped to her shoes the second she’d glanced out of her window and caught sight of uninvited guests. The sound of suitcases being dragged and loud laughter made her wince.

“Um,” Clary said hesitantly. Izzy peeked out at her and grimaced when she noticed the slightly panicked look on her girlfriend’s face. “I hope you are? Because I love you, Isabelle Lightwood, but I most definitely didn’t come here today thinking I’d get accosted by your family.”

Izzy let out a delirious laugh, slapping a hand to her mouth to stop the sound as she felt it spiral out of control.

It had been three days since she’d had her… unpleasant argument with Belcourt, and none of her family members – aside from Alec, whom she didn’t count – had seemed particularly concerned about the situation. That should have been her first clue, of course, that they were up to no good. The Lightwoods were many things, but laid back was not one of them.

They would have usually been up in arms at the mere mention of Izzy’s blowout. Jace would have been sending her countless messages and memes and random thoughts to keep her entertained. Max would have sent clumsy attempts at reassuring her, along with a thousand questions about what had happened. Her father would have forwarded an uncomfortable email about keeping her name out of the media.

Her mother would have called her and sharply told her to stay out of trouble.

Instead, it seemed Maryse Lightwood had decided to call on her a little more directly. Izzy chanced another glance at the sidewalk outside of her apartment and groaned loudly. Clary massaged her back slowly and uncertainly, and Izzy wished she wasn’t too stressed to enjoy the delicate motions.

“So,” Clary coughed awkwardly. “I’m meeting your family right now?”

“Apparently,” Izzy grit her teeth. “At least Jace is here. It would have been easier with Alec, but you’ll like Jace more. He’s easy. Fun. He’ll be concerned, but he won’t try to drag me into a separate room to have a talk about my behavior. I can’t say the same of Max. That boy is wonderful, but he’s also a nosy little teen with too much curiosity for his own good. And mom…”

“Hey,” Clary frowned. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I can answer the door and tell them all to go away. I’m sure they have a hotel room somewhere, and I’ll gladly ask them to go there until you’re ready to deal with… whatever this is.”

“An ambush,” Izzy grumbled. “Mom’s always been like this, but it’s gotten even worse since the scandal. She didn’t let me leave the house for months after that. You know, she’s the main reason I moved to LA. I mean, I wanted a change of scenery and thought it would be better to integrate a new community anyway, but she’s the reason I left so soon. She was overbearing and overwhelming and insistent that I stay near her at all times. She didn’t seem to understand that the scandal had been a carefully-crafted plan.”

“Not the best of plans,” Clary pointed out, and Izzy shrugged.

“It was what we had at the time,” she answered. “Anyway, if mom’s here, it means she wants to stage an intervention.”

“So… I kick them out?” Clary asked, and Izzy saw her try to hide a wince as she got the words out.

“It’ll only delay the inevitable,” she sighed. “But if you want to make yourself scarce, I’ll understand. You didn’t plan to meet them this way, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay. I can handle this alone, I promise.”

“I’d rather stay here.”

Clary’s jaw was set, her gaze determined, and Izzy felt herself fill with love for this stubborn woman and her endless bravery.

If Clary’s mom had shown up without warning, Izzy would have already been out of the window by now.

“I love you,” Izzy murmured, pressing a kiss to Clary’s cheek. “But if you’re staying, we need to make ourselves presentable. I’m a huge fan of this look, of course, but I don’t think my mom and brothers would appreciate it.”

Clary blushed as Izzy looked her up and down appreciatively, taking her girlfriend in one last time before ushering Clary into the bathroom and tossing her clothes from the day before in with her.

Two minutes later, an unwelcome knock echoed down the hallway. Izzy had changed into a pair of dark jeans and an old tee-shirt, not wanting to appear overdressed but also knowing her mom wouldn’t approve of her walking around in nothing but short shorts and Alec’s oversized hoodies.

Clary followed behind her as she went to greet her family, wearing the comfortable sweater Izzy had gotten her for Christmas.

“Iz?” She said right as Izzy went to open the door. Izzy turned around and relaxed into Clary’s familiar embrace as her girlfriend pulled her close, pressing their cheeks together. “I love you too. I’m with you no matter what. If Belcourt can’t get you down, then neither can this.”

Izzy wasn’t sure she agreed, but she smiled, took one of Clary’s hands in hers, and pressed soft kisses to Clary’s knuckles before squeezing her fingers and letting go. When she opened the door to face the music, she felt Clary’s steady presence like sunshine behind her.

“Isabelle! We’ve been standing here for two minutes already!” Her mother exclaimed, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips twisted into a displeased moue. The sight of her made Izzy’s shoulders tense again, thousands of memories of this exact expression flashing through her mind. “Really, you could have chosen something in a much nicer area than this quaint little spot. You’ve always aimed too low.”

“I like it,” Izzy forced herself to answer neutrally, stepping aside to let her family in, but mostly to reveal Clary, who stood frozen at her side. “Clary, this is my mother and my brothers, Jace and Max. Max is the handsome one, of course. Guys, this is my girlfriend, Clary.”

Her mother leveled her with a sharp look that Izzy pretended not to notice. Jace had already moved to shake Clary’s hand, having heard about her plenty over the past year and a half. He’d been the second person to know about Izzy’s relationship after Alec, and she knew he was pleased to know Izzy wasn’t alone on the West Coast.

Max’s eyes were curious but, thankfully, her littlest brother kept his thoughts to himself for the time being.

For all that he was an inquisitive child, Max had always known better than to blurt his questions out when their mother was around. He had the best relationship with her of all of them, but even he hadn’t been spared her stern quips and disappointed stares.

He’d ask Izzy about Clary, but he’d do it when they were alone.

Clever boy.

“Why didn’t I hear anything about–”

“Why don’t you come in?” Clary cut her mother off, her tone unrelenting. “You know, Izzy and I weren’t expecting any guests, and I’m sure we’d both appreciate a few minutes to get everything in order so we can give you the welcome you deserve. I make the best cookies, and I’m sure Izzy can make you all some drinks while you wait.”

Her mother’s jaw tightened, and Izzy almost let out a victorious cackle. There was something incredibly satisfying about watching her mother oscillate between her need to take control and her desire to appear like a polite woman.

The politeness won in the end, and Izzy gratefully followed Clary into her kitchen while her family got settled in the living room, their voices fading into a familiar echo as her girlfriend hummed a song underneath her breath and gestured towards the fridge.

“You really should get them some drinks,” Clary said, smiling gently. “They’ll be more tolerable if they have something to keep their hands busy, right? And maybe this way, your mom will be reminded that she’s in your home, not the other way around.”

“You’re good at this,” Izzy huffed, grabbing some cups out of her cupboard and selecting some juices for her family.

“Well, I have some experience,” Clary said, sounding both amused and slightly bitter. “My mom’s great, don’t get me wrong, but there’s a reason you haven’t met her yet. She’s overprotective to a fault, doesn’t want to let me out of her sight, and constantly messages me if she thinks I could have somehow run into trouble.”

“Oh,” Izzy chuckled, some of her anxiety giving way to a spark of connection she’d felt hundreds of times already with Clary.

Every time she thought she couldn’t possibly love her more, she discovered something about her girlfriend that made her swoon, or made her feel seen, or made her realise there was no one else in the world better suited to her than the angel who’d found her on that beach.

“I guess what I’m saying is you’re not alone,” Clary said softly as she measured out butter and sugar. She turned to look at Izzy when she was done, her gaze warm and adoring. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one dealing with it, you know?”

“I know,” Izzy smiled lopsidedly. “Though I’d rather neither of us had to deal with it, if I’m being perfectly honest. I was hoping for a calm day in with you, followed by dinner at our favorite café and then an invitation to play board games with Simon and Magnus. Instead, we’re going to be stuck here all afternoon, and probably won’t escape a meal with the entire Lightwood squad.”

“Not the whole squad,” Clary said, her voice cautious. “I’m sorry Alec isn’t here.”

“He wouldn’t have agreed to this,” Izzy scoffed. “He would have told me the second he’d found out about it. If anything, my mom is lucky he’s such a hermit. If he’d caught wind of their plan, I would have made my excuses and disappeared somewhere else for the week-end. They would have never caught me.”

“Ooh, a weekend getaway!” Clary said brightly as she went back to her baking, cracking eggs and melting butter like a pro. “We’ll have to plan something soon. I don’t usually like leaving the state, but the winter’s miserable no matter where you are, so we might as well find a chalet somewhere.”

Izzy sighed happily, crossing the kitchen to press a kiss to Clary’s hair as she worked.

“Anything for you, angel,” she whispered. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

“Go face the music,” Clary smiled. “I love you! You’ve got this!”

Izzy didn’t fully believe her, but just having Clary there with her made stepping into the living room less of a harrowing experience.

“We didn’t realize you had company, Isabelle,” her mother said shortly when Izzy rejoined them, drinks in hand and a small smile on her lips. “Really, I wasn’t even aware you were seeing someone seriously enough to warrant their presence in your apartment in the middle of the day.”

“We’ve been together officially for five months,” Izzy sighed. “She’s wonderful. You’re all going to love her. Now, I have drinks for everyone, and I’m hoping for some stories about whatever journey you went on to get here.”

Her mother opened her mouth to say something else, but Max beat her to the chase, launching into a tale about their epic drive to an airport outside of New York – their mother hated being followed by paparazzi and fans alike when they stayed in the city.

By the time Clary walked into the room again with a plate of fresh cookies, her mother had settled quietly, not voicing her displeasure at being presented food that came without cutlery.

It wasn’t much, but Izzy would take it.

Besides, in the long run, her mother didn’t matter. Clary was the one holding her hand, feeding her her favorite cookies, and kissing her tears away when Izzy looked through her messages and was faced with an outpouring of hatred.

And that was more than enough.

Chapter Text

QUEERBAITING OR COMING OUT? Clary Fray faces backlash after public announcement at Queer in LA event

She had fifty missed calls from her mother, but the mere thought of unlocking her phone and dealing with her made Clary feel queasy.

The only person she’d talked to since the event – aside from Izzy, who hadn’t left her side for longer than an hour at a time – was Tessa, who had messaged her several times to tell her she was proud of her and happy to walk her through whatever next steps she wanted to take.

It was nice, she thought, to have an agent like Tessa on her side. There was no pressure to make any big announcements or jump into the queer scene headfirst. Rather, there was the knowledge that Tessa would support her even if she decided she needed to take three months off, and an understanding between them that Clary hadn’t been trying to stir any kind of drama when she’d come out to Lydia’s fan.

Her words had been received as she’d thought they would be; with suspicion, disbelief, and an overall sense of surprise. There were a few fans who had sent messages of support, telling Clary they were proud of her and respected her decision to keep her sexuality to herself for so long.

Those were the minority.

Izzy had stolen her phone from her when she’d noticed Clary’s darkening mood and had only given it back once she’d deleted all forms of social media from the device.

Clary could have downloaded them back, but her girlfriend had had the right idea. The last thing Clary wanted to do was scroll through hateful messages in the hopes of finding a good one every once in a while.

“Trust me, angel,” Izzy had said when Clary had stared despondently at her empty home screen. “It won’t get you anywhere. The only thing those messages do is dig into your soul until the only thing left there is misery.”

Clary still remembered how Izzy had been when they’d first met, eaten from the inside out by a scandal she’d only caused to save the two people she loved most in the world. She remembered how her girlfriend had walked around, a ghost of a person, when Belcourt had done everything in her power to ruin her life. It had been months of fighting against invisible demons and begging Izzy to stay away from social media.

She wasn’t glad that Izzy had ever suffered through those things, but it did make her feel better to know that her girlfriend understood exactly what Clary was dealing with.

Even if her coming out had been smoother, it wasn’t as though Izzy was a stranger to homophobia and prejudice in the industry. Izzy had only been sixteen when she’d first dated a girl publicly, and though the media hadn’t caused a fuss, they also hadn’t been kind. Her fans had been ruthless, too, and had only calmed down when her brother, Alec, had announced he was even gayer than her, and if they had a problem with that, they’d have to vilify him as well as Izzy.

Clary didn’t have a brother to defend her. All she had was Jonathan, a bitter man who had done irreparable damage already, his whispers and venomous words sowing even more discord in the wake of Clary’s coming out. Everything he said about her oozed out like poison, and she wished – not for the first time – that she could have gotten rid of the blood they shared.

Simon would have most likely come out for her as well, but Si’s queerness was no secret. He’d made his big announcement when he’d still worked purely in the musical industry; being bisexual there was a lot less controversial than being a lesbian on the big screen. Jace would have been an option, perhaps, if Clary wasn’t painfully aware of how scared he was to come out.

Like her, he suffered from the very unfortunate ailment of looking too straight for his own good. It was as though people saw their symmetrical faces and their conventionally attractive smiles, and decided there was no way they could be anything other than perfectly heterosexual.

How dare they ruin the fantasy everyone had of them with their queerness?

Izzy slipped into their bedroom, and Clary hastily tossed her phone to the side, feeling guilty even though she’d done nothing wrong.

“You’re allowed to be tempted,” Izzy said, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “Besides, I won’t hold it against you if you decide to go back online. I get why you’d want to do it, amor. If it’s what you need to heal…”

“No,” Clary replied immediately, the thought of answering comments or checking her DMs making her feel vaguely sick. “Absolutely not. I can’t even face my mother yet. I’ll get to the strangers once I’ve overcome that first hurdle.”

Izzy hummed, tilting her head to the side as though analyzing Clary’s deepest thoughts.

Once, they’d had equally overbearing mothers. Clary knew that even though Maryse had improved over the past few years, Izzy would understand her feelings on the matter better than most.

Jocelyn Fray was a paranoid woman but a wonderful mother. She was intimately familiar with the industry but utterly clueless as to her daughter’s role in it all. She was a kind human being but a ruthless protector. She was someone Clary had once looked up to but who had now turned into a shadow Clary couldn’t quite get rid of.

When Maryse had shown up on their doorstep one day with an apology bigger than life and a promise to do better, Clary had thought perhaps she would get the same from her mother.

Instead, she’d won a different kind of parent in the form of Maryse Lightwood, who had kept true to her word since then and had managed to become someone Izzy could rely on.

“She might just want to know you’re okay,” Izzy said quietly, and Clary winced.

Her girlfriend was right, of course.

Her mother had always been the type to catastrophize. She would have caught wind of the situation from one of her many friends and would have immediately thought up the worst consequences. She wouldn’t have even bothered going online to check, instead calling Clary incessantly in the hopes of getting answers directly from the source.

“I’m just not ready for her yet,” Clary whispered, her shoulders sagging in relief when Izzy only nodded and padded over to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Maybe once the weekend has fully passed…”

“I get it,” Izzy murmured, sliding into bed next to her. She was still wearing the clothes she must have had on all day on set. She smelled faintly of concrete and outdoors, and Clary knew without asking that she must have been doing stunts that day. “But you know you can’t stay in here forever, right? Simon and Magnus have already threatened to come over tomorrow if you haven’t answered any of their messages by then. And Jace told me he won’t let me rescind our offer to host him just because someone decided to have a ‘dramatic moment’.”

Clary snorted a little at that.

She’d once told Jace that she didn’t want her coming out to be remarkable. She wanted it to be slow and sweet, or maybe sudden but completely normal. She’d imagined stepping out of the apartment someday with Izzy’s hand in hers, perhaps matching rings on their hands – not that she’d let Izzy know how much that particular idea had been turning around her head lately.

It would have been a post on Instagram with a cute caption. A kiss in the park. A picture of Clary at the Lightwoods’ holiday gathering. Leaked messages between her and Alec, the two of them planning his next visit to LA to surprise Izzy.

Jace had smiled at her ideas and had loudly proclaimed that when the time felt right, he would come along and have a dramatic moment to make up for her quiet revelation.

And now here she was, her face plastered on every social platform and in tabloids, the very picture of drama.

“Lydia messaged me too,” Izzy added quietly, watching Clary closely for a reaction.

She frowned a bit at that. Lydia had been wonderful to her for the rest of the Queer in LA event. When Clary had made her reappearance to participate in the mingling portion of the night, Lydia had stuck close to her side. She’d shooed off any curious reporters or fellow actors who simply couldn’t keep their questions to themselves.

She hadn’t meant to ignore her.

Truthfully, she hadn’t checked her messages or missed calls, too preoccupied by her mother’s name constantly at the top of the list.

She knew if she checked now, her mother’s name would flash on her lockscreen, another missed call she couldn’t stomach to answer.

“I’ll get back to her,” Clary said softly – honestly. “She was good to me on Friday, and I know she went through something… similar.”

“You’re both braver than I am,” Izzy huffed. “I think if I hadn’t come out as a teenager, my big coming out would have been during my scandal, and that would have been– an easy out, I think. I could have buried it amongst the dozens of other things that I was being accused of at the time. I would have never done it on TV or at an event or anything public. And I know it wasn’t entirely your choice, angel, but you were still glorious. I’ve seen the clips, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

“I know,” Clary breathed out.

When Izzy had brought her home that night, she’d kissed her slowly and had put music on to slow dance with her. Then, she’d whispered to her that she was so damn proud and that she would be there for her no matter what. That she’d do anything to make her feel better and to make the following weeks as easy as possible.

Clary had swayed with her, tears clinging to her eyelashes, and hadn’t stopped dancing until she felt like she could look up at her girlfriend without bursting into tears.

“And I’m sorry,” Izzy added.

Clary looked up at that. Of all the things Izzy had said that weekend, sorry hadn’t been one of them.

“For what?”

“Not letting us come out on our own terms,” Izzy replied, grimacing. “And I still– I stand by my reasons, but I feel like maybe things would have been easier for you if we’d made our relationship public in April.”

“Maybe,” Clary shrugged, though her heart clenched a little at the thought.

She hadn’t thought about it much, not wanting resentment to fester between them, but it had crossed her mind when she’d seen a tweet later that night about Clary’s lack of experience in women-loving-women relationships.

She’d loved Izzy for years, but their desire to keep things private now meant that people thought she was an inexperienced liar who’d most likely taken advantage of pride month to further her own career.

It was stupid, really, but it wasn’t the first time that being ‘single’ had made Clary’s life harder. It made people feel like they had more of a say over her body, her image, the way she held herself.

After all, if she hadn’t found someone to love her by now, then she surely needed their opinions and unwanted thoughts.

“There’s no use thinking about it now,” she sighed. “We’ll have to wait until your fake fling with Maia passes over so they don’t accuse her of being a homewrecker or message you about ‘cheating’.”

“I’ve already told Maia we’re cutting things off,” Izzy replied. “Our flirting got us the desired attention, so there was no reason to keep it going. Filming will be over soon, and then we can– I guess we can finally tell the world about us.”

She sounded terrified.

Clary turned to look at her girlfriend and, not for the first time, reminded herself that Izzy hadn’t refused to reveal their relationship because she was ashamed.

The truth was, Clary didn’t think Izzy would ever be over the scandal that had broken her and torn her away from her life. Self-inflicted or not, it had dug its claws into her so deeply that she still carried the scars to this day. The mere thought of exposing herself to the world, showing something real about the person she was, made her clam up.

She didn’t talk about Alec or Jace or their family. She didn’t mention the friends she’d made on set. She didn’t bring up hobbies or favorite things or holiday traditions. With the exception of her very public dating stunts, this new version of Izzy was a mystery to the media.

It was why she was perfect for the roles Lily scouted for her. And, whether she liked to admit it or not, it was the reason no one had fully gotten over her scandal.

Somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten that good press could be more than smoke and mirrors. It could be true, and it didn’t have to blow up in her face.

“We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” Clary said, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Izzy’s ear. “I was the one who wanted to keep things quiet at first. It’d be hypocritical of me to expect you to cross your own boundaries now.”

“Your wellbeing matters more than whatever hangups I still have over this,” Izzy said sincerely, but Clary shook her head, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s lips.

“Take your time, my love,” she murmured, her brain running at a hundred miles an hour. “I’ll figure something out until then.”

Her phone had lit up with a notification from Lydia, and suddenly she thought she might know exactly how to fix this.

Clary hung up the phone, hope gathering within her for the first time since the Queer in LA event three days earlier.

Jace was waiting in their living room, Izzy was home from work, and Tessa had agreed to her plan with only minimal hesitation. A quick phone call to Lydia later, and Clary was beginning to believe Izzy might have had the right idea all along.

Her girlfriend wouldn’t have to reveal anything before she was ready, Clary wouldn’t have to deal with unnecessary hate for much longer, and the promotions for their show would skyrocket thanks to a tiny bit of exaggerated publicity.

She paused for a second before leaving her home office, the sound of quiet voices filtering through the door.

Jace had joined them earlier that day, bringing Simon and an overall positive energy along with him – though that might have been the coffee and snacks he’d wisely gotten for them. Simon had left hours ago, but Jace had set himself up on the couch with Clary’s cookies and one of Izzy’s mugs filled with some sort of spiked drink.

The siblings were talking now, something about Jace’s most recent project and Izzy’s plans to visit him in New York sometime soon. Neither of them spoke of Alec, but they so rarely did; the Lightwood siblings had made a pact long ago not to bring the others up behind their backs. If Alec wasn’t around, the two of them wouldn’t say a word about him, even if they were dying to share whatever news they’d received from him.

Clary thought it was sweet.

She was smiling softly when she left her office and joined the pair in the living room. Jace was rambling about a castmate of his he clearly disliked, and Izzy was nodding along enthusiastically, encouraging his sharp words when he expressed his frustration over the situation.

“Hi love,” Clary greeted her with a kiss to the top of her head before waving at Jace. “Good to see you’ve made yourself at home, golden boy.”

“There isn’t a more comfortable couch out there,” Jace grinned. “Though I suppose the company isn’t terrible either. Did your phone calls go well or are we going to need to get up and kill someone?”

“Oh, shut it,” Clary rolled her eyes, swatting Izzy’s shoulder playfully when her girlfriend snickered along. “But no, no killing needed. The phone calls went very well; Tessa was as lovely as ever, and Lydia is always a delight to speak to. Just a little something to discuss with Iz.”

“Well, don’t let me get in the way of that,” Jace winked at her. “You have a room for a reason, don’t you?”

A throw pillow hit him in the face with a whack, and Clary held her hand up to high five her girlfriend, admiring her aim and strength – god, she really couldn’t wait to see what Izzy was going to look like in that damned movie.

“We’ll try not to be too loud for you,” Izzy said, trailing her gaze up Clary’s body just to watch her brother grimace and gag. “Then again, you’re always welcome to make yourself sparse if you can’t live through a little loving.”

“You’re disgusting,” Jace called after her as Izzy swayed out of the room, Clary hot on her trail. “I’m going to tell Alec you’re acting like a horny teenager!”

“You wouldn’t break the sibling code for something so petty!” Izzy shouted back at him, giggling quietly when Jace let out a series of indistinguishable grumbles. “Oh, he really is so easy to taunt. I think he seriously needs to get some; he’s been insufferable ever since he decided he’d be celibate until he found true love.”

“Didn’t hit it off with Simon, then?” Clary asked, tilting her head curiously when Izzy frowned at her. “What?”

“It’s just… Angel, they were a bit preoccupied that night,” Izzy said slowly. Clary’s steps faltered for a second before she picked up the pace, taking Izzy over in the hallway and opening the door to their bedroom. “And you’d better not see that as a bad thing. They were both happy to cover for you and to defend your honor, amor. If anything, it’ll give them a great origin story when they finally realize they’re perfect for each other.”

“I– Okay, fair,” Clary snorted. “But they’d better not include my accidental coming out in their stories.”

“There’s no way they’re leaving it out,” Izzy laughed, kissing Clary’s cheek as she closed the door behind them. “Sorry darling, but it’s not something you can forget to mention if this is meant to be their meet-cute. I mean, coming together to defend one of the two people they have in common? It’s the start to the perfect love story.”

“Ugh,” Clary groaned playfully. “I suppose I’ll deal with it if it means I get a major role in the story of their relationship.”

“Look at you, finding a bright side already,” Izzy grinned. “You seem like you’re in a better mood today. Tessa and Lydia had some good news? Did you come up with a plan to shut down any of the weird conspiracy theorists who don’t believe a coming out can be just that?”

“Yeah, actually,” Clary bounced slightly as she spoke. Izzy sat herself down on their bed, legs crossed and eyes eager. “Well, technically I guess it’s your idea. I was just… I was thinking about what you said, that it would have been easier for me to come out if I was in a relationship? And obviously, I understand you’re not ready to make things public right this second, and I would never want to pressure you into anything. But Lydia isn’t dating anyone, and she’d figured out that you’ve been doing your fair share of PR work with fake relationships, so she took it all in stride. Tessa and her agent are already writing up the necessary contracts and agreements. Apparently, she had a similar agreement going with a man when she was younger? I’m not sure.”

Izzy stared at her. Her hands were clenched in her lap and, for the first time in a long time, Clary couldn’t read her features.

“Sorry, I don’t think I’m following,” her girlfriend said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “What exactly are you and Lydia going to do?”

“Publicity,” Clary answered, her enthusiasm dimming in the face of Izzy’s stoicism. “Fake dating, to be more specific. It’ll also make our last few promotions more interesting, which is bound to get the fans excited about the season. I can’t get rid of the drama or the speculation, but maybe I can turn it into something good instead.”

“I–” Izzy blinked, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she cleared her throat and spoke again. “I’m not comfortable with that.”

It took a second for her words to reach Clary’s brain. There was a moment when she thought she must have heard her wrong, must have misunderstood something along the way, but Izzy’s face was set in a tight grimace.

Bitterness coated her throat. Anger clenched around her heart. Confusion clouded her thoughts, covering her in a sheen of disbelief.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to fake date Lydia,” Izzy said, her words clearer this time. She’d crossed her arms across her chest at some point in the past minute. Clary had missed it, blinded by her rising frustration.

“You can’t be serious,” Clary hissed. “You don’t want me to fake date Lydia?”

“We never agreed that–”

“That what goes for you also goes for me?” Clary scoffed. She watched Izzy flinched back and almost regretted her words, but this was–

This was the perfect solution, and Izzy – of all people, Izzy? – was putting her foot down?

“Four years,” Clary said lowly. “Four years I’ve let you go on fake dates with other people. I’ve watched you kiss men and women alike for the cameras. I’ve read dozens of interviews in which you proclaimed your love for someone else. I even let you have your fling with Maia after I all but begged you to make our relationship public. But this is too much? This is too far? Dating someone to try and save whatever reputation I have left? Showing everyone that I’m actually queer and not a fraud, that’s not worth whatever hangups you have?”

Izzy’s jaw clenched, and Clary deflated, an apology already forming at the tip of her tongue. Izzy beat her to the chase.

“You don’t get to do that,” she whispered furiously. “You agreed to all of those things. Hell, you’re the one who introduced me to Cristina! It didn’t just protect me; it protected you too, and you liked that protection. And I cut things off with Maia because I thought you wanted us to make it official! Do you really think dating Lydia now is going to make our announcement any easier to believe?”

“It’s a temporary solution!”

“It’s not a solution at all, because I’m telling you no!” Izzy snapped.

Clary took a step away from her. Fury and guilt and love and panic flooded her all at once, and she didn’t want to be here anymore.

She’d shut herself into this apartment for three days hoping it would make things easier, but now Izzy was standing in front of her and Clary realized she couldn’t fix it any more than Clary could.

She was just as lost and, instead of coming up with a solution, she shut down the only viable idea Clary had had since the event?

“I don’t want you to date Lydia,” Izzy repeated, her softness turned to something stern, serious, so unlike herself. She sounded like one of the villains she played, cutting off Clary’s lifeline. “I’ve always admired you for your ability to see me ‘date’ other people and take it in stride, but that’s not me. I can’t do that. Especially not now.”

“Oh, don’t make this about strength,” Clary laughed dryly, her voice devoid of humor. “You’re too selfish to share me, that’s it.”

“I thought you liked that about me,” Izzy said defiantly, her eyes glittering.

Clary grit her teeth. Of course she loved that about Izzy. She loved everything about her.

But right now, she felt like her heart had dropped below ground along with whatever dignity she’d been trying to scrape together since the comments had torn into her.

“What else do you want me to do?”

“We can announce our relationship,” Izzy answered immediately, but Clary shook her head at the feverishness she noted in her girlfriend’s gaze. “Make it public, show them the things we’ve shared over the years, show them–”

“No,” Clary cut her off. “I won’t let you turn us into– into anything less than what we are. If you’d let me do this, it would be over in a few weeks. Lydia and I will break things off amicably, and then we’ll give everyone a few months to cool down before we announce things like we wanted to all along. Quietly.”

“It’s not going to be quiet, Clary!” Izzy exclaimed, lowering her voice when Clary shot the door a nervous look. “That dream is over. Don’t ruin it by throwing yourself headfirst into a fake relationship that’ll take months to resolve. It’s never as easy as you think it’ll be. You know this.”

“So what? I wait? I go along with your harebrained plan to tell the world about our relationship when they don’t even believe I’m queer? Oh yes, we both agreed that would go great for us,” Clary said bitingly.

“You know, there are really far less people out there doubting your words than you seem to think there are,” Izzy said, furrowing her brows. Clary hated how genuine she sounded. Izzy wasn’t the one avoiding her social media accounts because they’d been flooded with negativity. “I don’t understand wh–”

“No. You don’t,” Clary interjected. “And I don’t want to deal with this right now. I love you, but I can’t wait around or go along with your rushed scheme.”

“I see,” Izzy murmured.

“No, you don’t,” Clary repeated, twisting her fingers together. “I won’t date Lydia if you don’t want me to. But I also can’t think of solutions if you’re right here throwing ideas at me. I’ll go stay with– with Simon for the night.”

“Angel–”

“I love you,” Clary said, meeting Izzy’s gaze but not taking a step towards her. A flash of hurt cut across Izzy’s face at the same time as it squeezed Clary’s insides.

They didn’t fight like this.

But Clary didn’t break like this. Neither did Izzy. They were usually… softer. Less desperate.

Right now, every inch of Clary wanted to fight or fly or disappear or tear the world apart until she felt like herself again.

“Okay,” Izzy breathed out. “I love you too. Would you… Will you let me know when you get there safely?”

Clary nodded tightly and turned around before she could change her mind.

She barely heard Jace on the way out, calling out a vague goodbye to him over the sound of blood rushing in her ears and the feeling of tears prickling in her eyes.

So much for hope.

Chapter Text

WHO IS ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD? Actress speaks up about goals, dreams, and boundaries with her audience

From the moment Izzy had met Clary, she’d known her life would be better off for it. She’d known that the angel on the beach had been the sign of good things to come. It had never been a question of if or when Clary would save her.

It had always been a constant. Clary would save her over and over again, with small gestures and smiles and game nights with their friends. She would force Izzy to stop reading the tabloids, would show her the edits her fans had made of whatever character she’d played in her latest movie or series.

Clary found the best in everything and, somehow, she’d managed to find the good in Belcourt’s stupid outburst as well.

It was no secret that their fans loved each other. From the moment Izzy and Clary had made their friendship public, their fanbases had jumped on the opportunity to meld into a bigger pot of happiness, thirst tweets, and overall eagerness to see women supporting women in a usually cutthroat industry.

So, it had come as no big surprise when Izzy had woken up someday in March to a flood of supportive messages and a campaign to get her on what many assumed would be the hit show of the next few years, Witches of Olderea. Izzy had gaped at the outpouring of support and had blushed furiously when Clary had grinned proudly at her.

Sometimes, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to pay her girlfriend back for the hundreds of ways in which she made her life easier.

Months later, Izzy stood on set, reading over her lines for the first episode of the show in question, not quite believing that she’d actually been booked. Her name had been on tenuous grounds for a while after Belcourt’s slander campaign, but Clary had been right to believe in her.

She’d bounced back, and though some of her co-stars sent her the dubious stares she’d grown used to over the past two years, the atmosphere on set was mostly pleasant.

Magnus Bane, who Clary had known her whole life, had agreed to come on for a secondary role in the show, which meant Izzy had an escape when she needed someone to talk to away from the cameras and crew.

With him had come Cordelia, the kind and sassy new actress who had landed herself the lead role in the series. Izzy would play opposite her as the villain’s daughter, a villain in her own fashion, but Cordelia was determined to be as cordial with her as possible even if it meant making their on-screen hatred for each other that much less believable.

Earlier that day, Cordelia had burst into giggles in the middle of one of their shared scenes when Izzy had looked over at her and repeated one of the lines they’d practiced for hours on end the day before.

“You’re going to get us in trouble someday,” she told Cordelia after the first part of their shoot was done. The older actors were filming their portions of the episode away from them, which meant the younger cast got to take a break in between scenes. “I’m on thin ice as it is, you know?”

“Oh, come on, that nonsense is old news,” Cordelia waved her concerns away. “Seriously, people know how to make mountains out of molehills on a good day, and the industry is made up of bad days only when it comes to scandals. Besides, what’s that saying about publicity?”

“That saying is actually nonsense,” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Don’t follow in my footsteps, Cor. I promise you don’t want to find out what happens when people start hating you for real. It’ll make whatever racist comments you’ve gotten so far seem like a joke.”

“Ugh,” Cordelia scrunched her nose up. “I should have listened to Lucie. She’s my best friend, you know? Studying to be a journalist. She’ll be done in a year or so, and then she’ll get to take the industry by storm without ever having to step on stage.”

“She’ll still understand the struggles,” Izzy smiled. “It’s good to have a friend who gets it. Even if she won’t have the exact same experience as you, she won’t bat an eyelash when you tell her about your awful days on set.”

“Right, you’ve got a friend in the industry too,” Cordelia lit up. “Clary Fray’s your best friend, isn’t she? The two of you are household names. At school last year, you were all anyone could speak about. Lucie hopes she gets to interview you someday when she’s made it big.”

“I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for her,” Izzy chuckled. “Though I didn’t realize Clary and I were such a big deal. We haven’t even acted in anything together yet. Not properly, at least. Part of me thinks it might be for the better; everyone I know tells me that acting together adds a whole new level to a relationship.”

“I love it,” Cordelia’s smile widened. “I got to film with my brother for a little bit when I was still too young to score a lead. You met him during We hunt the flame, right? Tall, broody, thinks he’s better than everyone else? Anyway, not important. The point is, he never really respected me when we were kids; he always thought I was too young to understand the big things in life. But then we acted together, I killed it on set, and he finally looked at me like he could see me.”

“I’m sure he could see you all along,” Izzy said softly, thinking about how it had been for her and Alec and Jace when they’d been kids.

She’d started acting with Jace first, their parents holding Alec back through his puberty so he could be introduced as a proper heartthrob. Yet, she didn’t think her relationship with Alec had suffered because of it. He’d always respected the path she’d chosen, and she’d admired his ability to go on with life as a regular pre-teen while she’d been shoved from set to set with Jace and their mother in tow.

He’d never been jealous, even when Izzy had expected him to be. She could easily imagine Alastair, with all of his put-on airs and flimsy smiles, not wanting his little sister to be intimidated by him. Not wanting her to be jealous of the lifestyle he’d fallen into.

She repeated her thoughts to Cordelia and watched as the younger girl’s smile turned contemplative, something a bit more genuine than the positivity that radiated from her at all times.

“You’ve got good advice, Lightwood,” the girl said a few minutes later, when Izzy had gone back to her lines. “I read your interview, you know? The one about your dreams.”

“Oh, that old thing?” Izzy laughed awkwardly. “It’s nothing. I wasn’t even sure Seelie would run it, given they usually prefer the bigger scandal pieces. But Lily told me to give it a shot, and it seems she was onto something.”

“People love that stuff,” Cordelia agreed. “Me included. It was good to see someone speak about the problems celebrities face with their audiences. I mean, I’ve barely started my career and I’m already dealing with intrusive DMs and people stopping me in the street when I’m just trying to go about my life. I know LA is better than most places since it feels like half the city is famous, but it’s still… strange.”

“Yeah,” Izzy hummed. “You know, Clary and I came up with the idea for the interview together. We were talking about how hard it was for us to go around our neighborhoods without having to interact with some fan or another, and she mentioned it would be nice to have someone actually say something about it.”

“She didn’t want to volunteer herself?” Cordelia snickered.

“Nope,” Izzy said with an amused huff. “The thing is, no matter how big she’s gotten, Clary is still relatively new to the scene. She doesn’t have the same audience as I do, and her words don’t get given enough credit. Besides, if one of us was going to risk the media’s ire, we decided it would be better for it to be me.”

“You don’t mind the extra eyes on you?” Cordelia guessed, her eyebrows raising when Izzy snorted and shook her head.

“I hate the extra eyes,” Izzy told her. “I love having an audience, having people believe in me, watching them enjoy my performances… But the media? I could do without it. I’m trying to inspire the greater public, queer girls like me who want to see themselves represented on the big screen. I couldn’t care less for desperate journalists and tabloids who care more about their profit than celebrities’ wellbeing.”

“Huh,” Cordelia said, her gaze curious. “But you took the hit anyway? Couldn’t you and Clary have done a joint interview?”

“Maybe,” Izzy shrugged. “But I’d rather not risk her reputation or her sanity.”

Cordelia nodded slowly, but Izzy saw something new flicker in her gaze, a hint of suspicion or understanding that she’d only seen a few times before. It had been written all over Simon’s face that day at the ice rink when he’d called her out on her feelings for his best friend. It had been etched in Aline’s smirk when she’d asked Izzy how things were going with her ‘good pal Clary’.

“I noticed one of your dreams is to be able to have a true relationship out in the open without having to worry about people crossing your boundaries,” Cordelia said, her voice sing-songy and light despite the implication behind her words. “That’s a… very specific goal.”

“Yes, well,” Izzy coughed to cover her blush. “I want to be able to experience love the same way everyone else does, but it’s a little hard to do that when I’m constantly worrying about people turning it into a story. I don’t want my partner to be subjected to rumors and whispers and speculation every single time we have a fight.”

“And what did Clary think about that?”

Izzy paused, gazing at Cordelia’s earnest face.

“Clary agrees,” Izzy said carefully. “If anything, she feels more strongly about it than I do. She has a very particular reputation, you know? Golden girl, young and pretty, who never does anything to offend the people around her. Tessa and her had to come up with a detailed plan when she transitioned into movies that weren’t purely destined towards teenagers. For the time being, they’ve decided it would be better for her to be seen as single. Not because she wants to be, but because they’re worried her fans wouldn’t be able to handle the fact that she’s no longer on the market.”

“That’s fucked,” Cordelia frowned.

“Yeah, it is,” Izzy sighed. “Meanwhile, I throw a name into the mix every few months and watch as my fans eat it up, waiting to see if they’re finally the one I fall in love with or if I’ll mess it up again.”

“It’s insane to me that most of them don’t realise you’re doing it for publicity,” Cordelia said, snickering a little when Izzy smirked at her. “They’re so clueless. I caught on as soon as you had that thing with Bridgestock.”

“Really? She’s the one that tipped you off?” Izzy whistled, impressed. Ari was a brilliant actress and certainly the most convincing of Izzy’s fake partners.

“She’s in love with your cousin,” Cordelia pointed out, laughing when Izzy scrunched her face up in disgust. “Hey, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but it is what it is. I went to school with Christopher, and he told me the two of them have had this on-and-off thing going on for years.”

“Moving on swiftly from that,” Izzy said smoothly. “I just want to be able to have a meaningful relationship without worrying about whatever gossip may come with it.”

“Fair. Though, I think it’s entirely possible to have a relationship without making it public. You could always wait for the right moment. Somewhere down the line, someone will ask the question and you’ll feel comfortable enough to answer it. Until then, nothing’s stopping you from being in love in your own, private way.”

“Yeah,” Izzy said wistfully. “I know. It’s only… Well, it’s a matter of making sure the other person understands that even if no one knows about us, they’re still worth the whole world to me.”

“I’m pretty sure she knows,” Cordelia smiled softly. Izzy glanced over at her, her heart pounding. “But for the record, there are plenty of things you could do to make her understand that without coming out to the public. You have the advantage of being two women, one of whom isn’t out as queer. Your audiences will bend themselves backwards to believe you’re nothing more than friends if you don’t let on that there’s more to be found.”

“Right,” Izzy said, something clicking in her mind. “Right.”

“Just don’t forget to give me some credit for whatever genius idea you’re coming up with right now!” Cordelia called out as Izzy stood suddenly, leaving her lines behind. “I want my wisdom to be commended!”

Izzy laughed at her boldness but didn’t deny them either.

If things worked out, she’d send her some flowers. Chocolates, too. Hell, she’d even mention her in a speech at an awards’ show if her plan came to fruition.

“And did you see how much your fans loved the first episode? I know you were worried about their reactions, but this is better than I could have ever imagined! I got so many tweets this week asking if I would ever appear in something like that. My fans seem to think this is all a result of your big interview last month. They say it makes you appear more genuine, and it shows in the way you act.” Clary waved her arms around wildly as she spoke.

Izzy gazed at her, smiling adoringly, her fingers itching to grab one of Clary’s hands and interlacing it with her own. Her girlfriend wore one of Izzy’s favorite outfits, a green sundress that hugged her curves whilst simultaneously giving her an innocent air, her eyes standing out even more against the color.

The sound of the sea soothed any worries Izzy might have had at the beginning of the day, and she resisted the urge to throw herself onto the sand. She’d had her hair done the day before and didn’t feel like being covered in sand when she asked Clary the question that had been itching at her mind for the past month.

“Well, none of it would have been possible without you,” Izzy reminded Clary. “I would have never even done the interview if you hadn’t pushed me to speak up. I would have probably stayed in bed for the rest of the year until some random director forced me out of hiding for some inane villain role.”

“No pity parties here, Miss Lightwood,” Clary reprimanded her, flicking Izzy’s nose lightly. “You deserve everything that comes your way, and it would have happened with or without me. I simply… helped things along.”

“And kept me sane, happy, healthy, functioning in the meantime,” Izzy pointed out. “I know you like to commend me for my accomplishment, amor, but you have to accept the compliments when I hand them to you too. I’m not the only one worthy of being showered in praise.”

“Ugh, gross,” Clary said, wrinkling her nose. “Making me accept the advice I’m constantly giving you. I liked you better when you were clueless, darling.”

“I doubt it,” Izzy snorted. “You love my compliments.”

“I love everything about you,” Clary corrected. Izzy’s breath hitched at the emotion shining in her girlfriend’s gaze.

The beach had seemed like the perfect place when Izzy had planned their day that morning, but now she wished they’d stayed at her apartment instead. That way, she could have kissed the expression off Clary’s face, dragged her down onto the couch, and grinned while Clary burst into giggles.

Instead, she linked their pinkies together for a moment and brushed her arm against Clary’s, a declaration of love in and of itself.

“So,” she cleared her throat as she spoke, letting go of Clary’s finger and turning to stare at the ocean. Clary paused next to her, quiet and gentle and undemanding even though she had to know Izzy had been planning something for a while now. “We met on a beach.”

“We did,” Clary said, amused, and there was that giggle Izzy so loved. “Not quite as public as this one, but I suppose we would have never spoken to each other if we’d been in such an open setting. I’m pretty sure Simon still expects us to give him presents on our anniversary as recompense for ‘getting us together’.”

“I sent him one of the rare albums he was looking for last September,” Izzy admitted sheepishly. “And I already have something planned for this year. So maybe I’ve encouraged him a tiny bit in that respect.”

“Ridiculous,” Clary huffed.

“Yes, well, he led me to the person I love most in the world,” Izzy said gently. Clary’s fingers skimmed hers briefly, her touch warm and comforting and even more relaxing than the sea air. “The least I can do is give him something every once in a while.”

Clary hummed, falling silent again as she waited for Izzy to continue.

“Anyway. I thought a beach would be the perfect spot to do this,” Izzy smiled. “I already loved the beach before I met you, but that night made it feel… better, somehow. I’d chosen a quiet, lonely spot, and you invaded it with a smile and your kind words and your ability to make me smile even when I’m feeling sorry for myself.”

“That is one of my many talents,” Clary grinned.

“Your most constant one, in fact,” Izzy laughed. “You bring it with you no matter where we are. My place, your apartment, the café down the street, the park, on set when you decide to surprise me with a visit… No matter where we are, you make everything feel better and brighter.”

Belcourt had been her biggest drop since her scandal, but it certainly hadn’t been the only one. Izzy had faced her fair share of piques and pointed comments, and she wouldn’t have managed to get through them with nearly as much grace as she had if Clary hadn’t been by her side all along.

Clary made her want to be kind and positive. She made her want to respond to haters with her success rather than harsh words she would later regret.

The past six months had made Izzy realize that without Clary… she wasn’t sure she would still be in the industry.

“I know I joke about it sometimes, but you really are like my own personal sunshine,” Izzy added underneath her breath. “And I hope someday, I can be that for you too but, until then, I want to prove to you that there is nothing on this planet that matters more to me than you do.”

“I know that already, silly,” Clary said, huffing out a laugh. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“Maybe not,” Izzy shrugged, thinking back on what Cordelia had told her all those weeks ago. “But I still want to.”

Clary bit back a grin, but Izzy could read the eagerness on her face as easily as an open book.

“Did you know that a few months after we first met, Simon told me we were playing a dangerous game, keeping our… relationship a secret? He thought it would all blow up in our faces when we least expected it,” she told Clary, watching as her girlfriend’s face scrunched up confusedly. “I’m only bringing it up because he does have a point.”

“Iz, if you’re asking me if I want to go public, I just need you to know that–”

“I know you’re not ready,” Izzy cut her off with a reassuring smile. “That’s not what this is. But the more time we spend in public doing… whatever it is we’re doing right now, flirting and barely brushing hands and pretending we’re not desperately in love, the higher the chances someone will figure out what’s going on.”

“Okay,” Clary frowned, her voice slow and baffled.

“I’m saying we should move our relationship to a more private setting,” Izzy blurted out quickly. In one swift move, she drew two matching sets of keys out of her pocket, the sun and moon keychains glinting in the sunlight.

Clary gaped at the keys, her eyes wide.

“I’m in love with you, Clary Fray, and I frankly don’t see any reason not to wake up next to you every day,” Izzy added when Clary only blinked between her and the keys as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “Someone made a good point to me earlier this month: people will see what they want to see. They’ll think we’re good friends moving in to ease the loneliness, and we’ll let them believe that for as long as it suits us.”

“You want– You want to move in with me?” Clary asked her, her voice quiet and her fingers trembling as she reached for the keys dangling from the sun keychain.

“I’d love nothing more,” Izzy said honestly.

And that was how she found herself with an armful of Clary, red hair suffocating her as she did her best to push it out of the way. She laughed joyfully as Clary simultaneously cried and whispered words of love to her.

When they pulled away from each other, Clary held onto her hands for a second longer than usual before wiping at the tears staining her cheeks.

“You could have asked me at home, you know?” She said tearfully. “You didn’t have to orchestrate a romantic walk on the beach and say all those… very sweet things about me. I would have said yes no matter what.”

“Me? Asking you at home?” Izzy scoffed. “Angel, do you know me at all? I refuse to let you have anything less than what you deserve, and that means grand gestures, big announcements on the beach, and a set of keys to match my promise. It’s only a copy to my apartment for now, but I thought it would be better that way. I figured you’d want to be involved in the apartment hunting.”

“I would have been happy with anything you chose for us,” Clary chuckled, still hiccuping.

“Now that’s a lie, amor,” Izzy shook her head with a laugh. “You are the least easygoing person I’ve ever met when it comes to your living space. I’m pretty sure you almost had an aneurysm when you saw my kitchen for the first time.”

“That’s because you treat your kitchen like some sort of prison!” Clary defended herself hotly, crossing her arms over her chest with a pout when Izzy only laughed harder. “But I suppose it’s better this way. I’ll pick the nicest kitchen they have, and I’ll make sure you can never mess with my organization.”

“That sounds perfect,” Izzy smiled at her lovingly, only barely stopping herself from pressing a kiss to her lips.

“You’ll never get rid of me now,” Clary grinned victoriously.

As though Izzy would ever want to get rid of her.

“That was always the plan,” she told her girlfriend. “You’ll always have someone to cuddle with in the morning, a shoulder to cry on when things get hard, and a host of uninvited guests every time you start to get too comfortable.”

“I think I can live with that,” Clary said, her voice as warm as her gaze. “It’s like you said, darling: I’d love nothing more.”

“Good,” Izzy murmured over the sound of the crashing waves beside them.

Someday, she’d take Clary back to this beach, would kiss her, would get down on one knee and ask her to marry her, and neither of them would worry about the cameras hiding in the bushes, just out of sight.

But for now, she wrapped her girlfriend into another hug, whispered words of love to her, and linked their arms together as she led them back to her – their – apartment.

Chapter Text

‘QUEERNESS HAS NO RULES’: Lydia Branwell speaks up on behalf of co-star Clary Fray in the wake of her rocky coming out at Queer in LA event

The worst part about her argument with Izzy was that she knew her girlfriend had a point.

When Clary had agreed to let Izzy date other people for publicity, she’d been aware it was a one-sided agreement. The only reason they’d hidden their relationship to begin with was because Clary’s reputation depended on her being single and available, a pinnacle of virtue for young men and women to look up to.

Izzy had never told Clary that she’d be comfortable with their agreement if their positions had been reversed.

It still hurt, of course, to have her only plan be shot down within seconds of her proposing it, but it wasn’t… It wasn’t surprising, exactly. It shouldn’t have been, at least. When Izzy had told her no, Clary should have been expecting it.

Instead, she’d gotten her hopes up and had felt betrayed when Izzy had turned her idea down.

“You’re moping.”

She glared up at Simon, wrapping her fingers tighter around her glass of iced tea so he wouldn’t see them tremble.

“I’m not–” She cut herself off when she noticed the sympathetic look on her best friend’s face. “Fine, I’m moping.”

“Did you message Izzy today?” Simon asked her as he settled into the armchair across from hers.

She could have gone out to the beach as she usually did, but the stupid sand reminded her of Izzy and made her heart clench painfully. She should have been there with her girlfriend, coming up with a plan to reveal their relationship, and instead she was drowning alone because she didn’t know how to deal with the abruptness of–

Well, everything, she supposed. Her coming out, her plan to fake date Lydia, Izzy’s refusal, her adamant declaration that they could make things public sooner rather than later.

“Mmm,” she hummed quietly. She’d only been gone from their apartment for three days, but already she could feel the homesickness rising within her. She’d messaged Izzy every morning without fail, a reminder that she loved her and that she was just taking some time to think.

Izzy messaged her back at least ten times a day with little pictures of her on set and screenshots of comments on Instagram celebrating Clary’s coming out. Links to articles were sent her way, all of them speaking about her bravery and the struggles she must have faced as a queer woman in the closet, constantly rebuked from the spaces she belonged in.

“Do you remember the Belcourt scandal?” Simon asked her out of the blue.

“Which one?” Clary frowned. In the past five years, Belcourt had managed to find herself in the middle of so many scandals, Clary had eventually stopped paying attention.

As long as the ruthless actress didn’t attack Izzy or Magnus, Clary didn’t quite care what was going on in her life. From what she understood, Belcourt was slowly but surely driving herself out of the industry, and they’d all be better off for it in the long run.

“The one with Izzy,” Simon rolled his eyes, as though it should have been obvious.

It probably should have.

“Miserable bitch,” Clary grumbled. “You know, I actually thought about going on set to smack her after the incident. I saw the things she’d said about Izzy online, saw what her fans were doing, the attacks they were launching on her, and only Tessa held me back from doing something damn fucking reckless.”

“Pretty sure Tessa has single-handedly saved your career a dozen times,” Simon snorted. “She’s a miracle worker. But that’s besides the point. Do you remember what Izzy was like then? She wouldn’t leave her apartment, wouldn’t talk to anyone, and thought everyone would believe the worst of her. There was nothing I could say to make her feel better.”

“Yeah, scandals hit her hard,” Clary said, biting on her bottom lip.

“Scandals hit everyone hard,” Simon rectified, looking Clary straight in the eye until she finally acknowledged his words with a slight tilt of her head. “But Izzy didn’t jump the gun and suggest some wacky plan to get herself out of it. She trusted you to take care of her and tell her everything would be okay. She didn’t even date anyone to save face, which you know would have been the easiest solution for her.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure she’d convinced herself that no one would want to be associated with her,” Clary murmured, pouting a little as she caught onto the point her clever but infuriating best friend was trying to make. “And our situations aren’t the same.”

“No, they’re not,” Simon admitted. “But she’s your girlfriend. Hell, I reckon the two of you are as close to engagement as you can get without making it official. There’s a bet going on right now to see if you’ll pop the question before Aline and Helen get married.”

“Well, that’s– completely unrelated,” Clary said, flushing a dark shade of red.

“Not completely unrelated,” Simon said with a small huff. “Izzy knows you better than you know yourself, Clary. You told me that she cut things off with Maia immediately after the event. Why would she do that if she didn’t fully intend on making your relationship public?”

“She doesn’t–”

“I know she freaked out about your suggestion earlier this year,” Simon interrupted her. “She came to find me a week later, actually, and told me she’d reacted like an idiot because she hadn’t been ready for you to bring it up. But don’t act like Izzy doesn’t want this as much as you do. She’s wanted the world to know about you from the moment she saw you on that beach.”

Clary didn’t answer immediately.

She found herself suddenly fighting back tears, thinking back on every time over the years when Izzy had gotten out of a fake relationship and had gently asked her if she’d be ready for the next one to be theirs.

Just a year ago, Izzy had ended her stunt with Cristina and had come straight to Clary. Clary had told her she wanted it to be her last, and Izzy’s eyes had lit up, asking her if it meant she was ready to have their own coming out.

But Clary had stuttered, her heart beating wildly, and had shaken her head.

Something had shuttered in Izzy’s gaze then, and Clary wondered if she’d given up hope that they would ever make their relationship public.

How many times had Clary told her to wait a while longer? How many times had she said she wasn’t ready, that she didn’t know when she would be, that the mere idea of telling the world about them scared her to death?

When Izzy had turned her suggestion down in April, Clary had assumed it meant Izzy had finally gained apprehensions of her own. After all, Izzy had just as much to lose – if not more, considering she’d already fallen from grace once – if things went awry during their coming out. If her fans didn’t believe her, or vilified her, or turned Clary into the object of their negative attention, she wasn’t sure Izzy would be able to withstand it.

But now, taking Simon’s words into consideration, she wondered if it was Clary’s fears that had made Izzy hesitate.

“I wanted my coming out to be with her.”

Simon’s hand covered hers, and she wiped a stray tear away with the fingers still at her disposal.

“I think she wanted that too,” Simon smiled sadly. “I know you were hoping for a quiet revelation, but I’m pretty sure she had a thousand different Instagram posts drafted and deleted to tell everyone about your relationship. She’s probably come up with a dozen plans to make the process easier. I know of at least three of them, and Aline has told me she reached out about others that didn’t involve me.”

“Ugh,” Clary sniffled. “I can’t believe the only thing we’ve ever truly argued about is how we want to tell the world about us. If we were a normal couple, this wouldn’t even be a problem. We’d have made it official years ago, and I would have probably already proposed.”

“I’d say it’s a pretty good sign that you haven’t had any bigger arguments than this,” Simon nudged her foot gently, his smile turned teasing, and Clary couldn’t quite bite back a smile of her own. “And look, I fully believe that the two of you will figure it out in due time. If you’d actually given up on it, you wouldn’t be messaging her every morning like a lovesick fool.”

“It’s not my fault she’s sweet even when she’s kind of pissed at me,” Clary muttered. “Turns out she knows what I need despite my best efforts to process things alone.”

“Oh please,” Simon snickered. “When have you ever processed something on your lonesome? You’re absolutely terrible at internalizing things in a healthy way. I’d have been absolutely furious if Izzy hadn’t been sending you all those disgustingly saccharine messages and reminders that you’re worth more than what your haters would have you believe.”

“No need to sound so jealous,” Clary teased him, smirking a little when he shot her a mock-glare. “Ooh, touchy. Maybe you’d have better luck dating other people if you didn’t spend your evenings holed up in your apartment alone. Where’s the young Simon Lewis who would throw the biggest parties in LA and get everyone to show up with a plus one?”

“Long gone,” Simon rolled his eyes. “I have other things to worry about now. Besides, I was losing my voice at those parties, which pissed the hell off out of Raphael and made me a lousy singer.”

“Lame,” Clary sighed. “You were so much more fun back in the day.”

“And you were so much cooler back then,” Simon shot back at her. “I guess growing up means losing some of our best qualities. What can we do about it?”

“Stop growing up?” Clary suggested, echoing words they’d said to each other every day when they were seventeen and convinced that aging would make it impossible for them to break into the acting scene. “God, imagine if we’d actually been stuck as teenagers for the rest of our lives. How fucking miserable.”

“I blame that period of our lives entirely on you,” Simon said, laughing. “You were the one watching all those vampire shows and pointing out that vampires don’t have any issues staying relevant.”

“Still a valid point,” Clary sniffed haughtily, some of her humor deflating a little as her mind turned back to her current situation. “Things were easier back then.”

“They were also a lot less entertaining, and a lot more focused on us working our asses off to achieve our dreams,” Simon retorted. “No offense, but I’d take low-level scandals and relationship problems any day over the torture we were putting ourselves through back then. We would barely have time to breathe in between the training and networking we were putting in.”

“Paid off in the end,” Clary chuckled dryly. “We got where we needed to be. And now I get to deal with young Clary’s stupid decision to stay in the closet. What a naive little girl she was.”

“Okay, enough of that,” Simon said, kicking her shins. “I’m glad we had this little reminiscing session, but I’m going to need you to get out there and actually do something about your situation. You don’t have to go home yet if you’re not sure how to handle things with Izzy, but at least go hang out with Lydia and the other queer nerds to see what they have to say about all of this.”

Clary pouted but didn’t protest when Simon dragged her out of her armchair and forced her into his guest bedroom to make herself presentable.

She’d been meaning to see Lydia anyway; the interview she’d released about Clary and her terrible coming out had made her cry when it had come out the night before. It had warmed her to know that Izzy wasn’t the only one looking out for her.

The least she could do was tell the others she was still alive and ask for their advice on how not to completely bungle things up while they continued releasing their promotions for A Restless Truth.

“So here’s the thing, Fray,” Mark said dryly as Clary sipped at the cocktail Magnus had handed her the second she’d stepped into his apartment. “People fucking suck. You can’t trust anyone to have your back in the industry, especially not fans. All you’ve got is yourself, the people you love, and awesome castmates like us.”

“So I can trust some people in the industry,” Clary pointed out, laughing lightly when Mark huffed.

“Sure, sure,” he said airily. “But you need to keep your circle closed and select who you let in carefully. That fan should have never been allowed so close to you and Lydia. Absolutely psychos, the lot of them. I don’t understand why Queer in LA keeps letting them attend when they have been the source of drama every single year.”

“It keeps them engaged,” Lydia reminded him, her nose scrunched in displeasure. “They love feeling like they’re a part of our lives and careers. And though Queer in LA is great about a lot of things, this isn’t one of them. The people organizing the event aren’t actors themselves, and it shows.”

Magnus sighed. “You’d think they would learn their lesson, but it seems that just like everyone else, they love the content more than they care about the celebrities they invite. You can at least be assured you’ll be invited next year, biscuit; they’ll never let you go after that stunt.”

“Great,” Clary grimaced. “Do you think they’ll be desperate enough to have me there that they’d listen to me if I asked them not to let any fans on the premises?”

“Doubt it,” Lydia grumbled. “But it’s always worth a try.”

Clary nodded. She would gladly reach out to the organizers herself if it meant future celebrities wouldn’t have to deal with the intrusive behaviors she and Lydia had experienced on the red carpet.

“But you think it’ll just… die down?” Clary asked quietly once the others were done moaning about the state of fans at different celebrity-related events. “I mean, you don’t think there’s anything I should do on my end of things? I could make some sort of announcement, or release an interview, or… I don’t know. It feels strange to sit here and wait for them to get over it.”

“Not much else to do though, is there?” Magnus shrugged.

“He’s not wrong,” Lydia agreed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no scandal to clarify or apology to issue. You came out, and people didn’t like that they weren’t able to pick up on it from the beginning. Nothing less, nothing more.”

“I have to say, I’m offended I wasn’t able to pick up on it,” Mark pouted.

“You’re offended?” Magnus scoffed. “Please! I lived with Clarissa for months at a time and I never heard anything about this! No girlfriend, no talk about sexuality with her mother, not even a mention of a queer club in high school or college.”

“To be fair, I didn’t talk about it with anyone,” Clary said softly, watching as Magnus’ raised shoulders lost some of their tension. “Simon knew, of course, but that was more of a mutual coming out than anything. Once I broke into the acting sphere, I decided I wouldn’t let people know, not even the people I cared about.”

“Lydia knew,” Mark pointed out.

Clary winced awkwardly.

Truthfully, the only reason she’d told Lydia about her sexuality was because it had made for better chemistry during shoots. She’d quickly realized that Lydia wasn’t sure what to do about a ‘straight’ actress playing such a prominently queer character, and it had seemed like the perfect solution to practice coming out in a way that benefited her career.

“You weren’t the one kissing her on set, Bane, so pipe down,” Lydia rolled her eyes playfully at Magnus, who sighed loudly but tossed Clary a wink. “Besides, Clary doesn’t owe anything to anyone.”

“Right,” Clary said as confidently as she could manage. “But say… If there was something you felt like you owed someone, how would you go about revealing it in a sensitive but meaningful way?”

The three of them narrowed their eyes at her thoughtfully, and Clary saw the moment Lydia caught onto what she was implying.

“I’d talk to anyone else who was involved in this particular situation,” she answered, smirking knowingly. “And I’d make sure I was doing it for the right reasons. You were already denied your coming out in the way you would have preferred, so take a second to think before making any decisions.”

“I’m not following,” Mark mock-whispered, looking at Magnus. “Are you following?”

Magnus shushed him, his eyes turning to nothing more than slits as he gazed at Clary.

“Biscuit,” he finally drawled. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Oh my god!” Mark exclaimed all of a sudden, his eyes wide as they went from Magnus to Clary and back again. “You’re Lightwood’s secret partner! Helen has been talking about you for years, but she’s never dropped a name. Not even a damn hint about your gender. Every time Isabelle would come up, she would mutter vague excuses about a partner but never reveal anything specific. I can’t believe it!”

“Okay, jumping to conclusions,” Magnus muttered, but Clary could see the cogs turning in his brain.

There weren’t millions of queer women out there, and there weren’t even a dozen that Clary had interacted with regularly. Aside from Izzy, the closest queer women to her were Aline and Helen – who were happily dating – Maia, and the handful of actresses she’d run into over the years.

Lydia was the best queer friend she’d made in a very long time.

“Aline and Helen shouldn’t have even mentioned the fact that Izzy had a partner,” she eventually told Mark, making a note to text Helen later that evening and remind her that some secrets weren’t meant to be shared. “But yes, she’s my girlfriend. We’ve been together for almost four years.”

“Four–”

“Holy shit, Fray, that’s one hell of a secret to keep for that long,” Mark whistled. “Impressive. Your golden girl act may have worked a little too well; I couldn’t have pinned you down for any of those things. Queer and dating one of the most prominent actresses in the industry? Insanity.”

“Yes, well…” Clary blushed at the compliment she detected in his tone. “We’ve been careful to keep it as quiet as possible. Our reputations didn’t quite match up when we started dating, and I guess I got complacent. It was easier to keep things hidden than to tell everyone about our relationship, so I pushed it back until we finished filming A Restless Truth.”

“But you didn’t come out then?”

“I may have freaked Izzy out a little bit when I suddenly announced I wanted to tell everyone the truth,” Clary sighed.

“She is skittish,” Mark hummed, earning himself a sharp glare from Clary. “I mean no offense, Clarissa. It’s just what I’ve observed from working around her and seeing her at events. Her brothers are night and day, and she’s somewhere in the middle. Not quite scared of the spotlight like Alexander is, but certainly far more cautious than Jace will ever be. Scandals will do that to a person.”

Magnus nodded seriously then, and Clary decided to ignore Mark in favor of the man who had known her for most of her life.

“I can’t compare my experiences to Izzy’s,” he said with a raised brow. “But Mark’s right. Having your name plastered in the media like that does something to your soul and your belief in goodness. I’ve heard that Isabelle fabricated half of the things that ended up getting her thrown to the wolves, but I’m guessing the impact was still just as significant.”

“Yeah,” Clary breathed out. “It was.”

“Then I’m with Lydia,” Magnus said, smiling at her. “Talk to your girlfriend, ask her how she wants to go about things, and listen to her if she tells you she’s ready to make it known. Trust me, your lives will be a hell of a lot easier once you’ve aired it all out. People will start putting the pieces together, looking at pictures of you and interactions at events, and just like that they’ll have forgotten all about their accusations of queerbaiting on your part.”

“Do you really think they’ll go digging through our past?” Clary frowned.

All three of her castmates laughed at that, and Clary felt her cheeks heat up again.

“Sorry darling, but there’s no way they won’t recreate your story from beginning to end. Though it was clever of you to move in together under the guise of friendship,” Lydia chuckled. “They’ll be missing some essential pieces there, and it’ll keep them interested. From there, you can always control what they see in the future. It seems to me like you and Izzy have a good handle on keeping things private.”

“Yes, yes, it’ll all turn out fine,” Mark huffed. “Now, why don’t you go find your girlfriend and give us a big reveal worthy of this generation’s two biggest actresses?”

“Right now?”

“Do you have anything better to do?” Lydia asked, pointing at her empty drink and the phone Clary was now gripping in her hands.

“Go home, biscuit,” Magnus smiled.

It felt like the sign Clary had been waiting for ever since she’d left their apartment – and the better half of her heart – behind.

She was in a taxi before her phone could finish ringing.

“Angel?”

“Izzy,” she whispered into the speaker, feeling like everything had just slotted back into place. “I’m coming home.”

Chapter Text

FRAY AND LIGHTWOOD ANNOUNCE SECRET RELATIONSHIP: The truth behind the actress’s romance in an exclusive interview

They sat next to each other on the couch as Izzy hit the Post button on her Instagram. At the same time, Clary sent out a tweet.

Clary’s message was the simpler one: “I’ve been keeping her a secret for almost long as I’ve been hiding parts of myself. You deserve to see her the way I do.” It was accompanied by a picture of the two of them at the beach, their hands interlocked. It was an old picture, one that Simon had taken during their first summer as an official couple, and Izzy loved it just as much as she had when she’d first seen it.

Izzy’s post was more detailed.

They’d carefully selected four pictures. The first one showed the two of them on the red carpet at Queer in LA before Clary’s accidental coming out. Clary was looking straight at the camera, looking like a true angel in gold, while Izzy looked over her shoulder, her Cinderella-esque outfit making her sparkle in the flashing lights.

The second was the same shot of the beach that Clary had chosen for her tweet. The third was a picture Izzy had taken of Clary when they’d been moving into their apartment. She’d been arranging the decorations in their bedroom to be a perfect blend of the two of them, and she’d glanced up at the camera milliseconds before Izzy had captured her in all her glory.

The last one was an old selfie of the two of them. They were slightly blurry, a result of Clary bursting out laughing before she took the shot. They’d squished themselves into the booth at their favorite café and had taken this picture weeks before Izzy had finally asked Clary to be her girlfriend.

She could have picked a thousand more moments if someone had given her the chance. In fact, now that they’d officially told the world about their relationship, she thought she might just spend the next few months posting as many pictures of Clary as possible.

She wanted to show the world what they’d been missing out on all along, the side of Clary that was goofy and nerdy and so far from perfect, yet exactly right for Izzy.

Her caption was brief but to the point.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her, so you’re going to have to get used to seeing her face every single day. Clary saved me when I was at my worst, and it’s time I repaid that favor. #QueernessHasNoRules”

She turned her screen off as soon as she posted the pictures, knowing it would probably be days before her social media calmed down again.

She’d given Lily a head’s up and, to her surprise – and Clary’s glee – her agent had laughed and told her it was about time she broke the mold and stopped letting people believe she was some sort of heartbreaker.

‘You’re soft at heart, Isabelle Lightwood,’ Lily had added at the end of their call. ‘I think it’s time for you to stop being the villain of your own story. You can be the main character too, if you only let yourself believe it.’

She’d burst into tears as soon as she’d hung up, and Clary had been quick to reassure her without a single mention of ‘I told you so’.

It had been over a year now since Izzy had realized she didn’t want to be stuck in the roles the world had chosen for her, and she could have had something else all along if she’d just stopped closing herself into the box she’d created after her scandal.

“Hey,” Clary said now, her smile tremulous but no less beautiful. “We did it.”

“Come hell and darkness and homophobia and high water,” Izzy said out loud, grinning when Clary let out a startled laugh. “It’s a good mantra!”

“Please never say that in public,” Clary said in between wheezes of laughter. “Oh my god, Iz. How long have you been keeping that one in your head? You need to get those out so I can tell you how ridiculous they sound.”

“I’ll say it as often as I want if it makes you laugh like that,” Izzy smirked, smug at the pure joy radiating off her girlfriend. “Besides, maybe if I call out the homophobes brazenly, they’ll pipe down with their terrible opinions.”

“Eh, it’ll be okay,” Clary shrugged. “Lydia’s campaign is in full swing now, and I doubt our fans will be letting anyone get away with even a hint of bigotry.”

In the weeks since Clary’s coming out and their brief falling out, Lydia had raised true hell in the industry. She’d called Queer in La out for their lack of screening before events and had urged fans to share their own, clumsy coming out stories to remind everyone that not every moment could be perfect, whether you were an office worker or a doctor or a global phenomenon.

Izzy had watched as, day after day, Clary had read through stories and listened to Tik Toks detailing how her fans had stumbled through their coming out experiences. Each of them had a joke to tell about how their friends had reacted, or how they’d accidentally blurted the words out in front of their conservative grandparents, or how they’d been caught kissing their then-girlfriend by their ‘boyfriend’.

Other stories made them both cry.

Queer women spoke quietly about the disbelief they’d faced when they’d come out to their loved ones. Friends and family assured them it was just a phase, that a man would come along eventually and change their mind. Young bisexual girls’ voices cracked as they expressed how hard it had been to tell the people around them that they loved girls and boys equally, and no, it didn’t make them any less worthy of love.

Through it all, Clary’s castmates loudly expressed their support during their interviews. On set, Izzy’s co-stars approached her and asked after Clary, wondering if there was anything they could do to support a fellow actress. Maia was especially adamant in her support, her eyes twinkling kindly whenever Izzy mentioned her own experiences as a queer woman.

Their friends had unanimously shown their support when the two of them had told them they were finally making things official.

“I think you’re right,” Izzy sighed happily. “It’ll all be perfectly fine.”

“Glad we agree on that,” Clary huffed, rolling her eyes teasingly. “You know, mom called me this morning. I don’t think anyone told her about the announcement, but she seemed to know anyway.”

“How was she?” Izzy asked.

“Good, actually,” Clary said slowly. “I mean, she was still freaked out about the coming out and my radio silence after the fact, but she wasn’t… She didn’t try to dissuade me from telling everyone about us. I think finding out that Jonathan has been here all along and hasn’t managed to damage my reputation has helped kickstart her healing process.”

“Finally,” Izzy snorted, ignoring Clary’s chiding look. “Hey, it took her long enough! Even my mother caught on before her, and I thought she was a lost cause when she first met you.”

Clary flicked her cheek and didn’t grace her with a response.

Instead, she took Izzy’s hand in hers and traced soothing patterns against her skin. In a few months, Izzy hoped they would have matching rings sparkling there. Something green for Clary to match her eyes, and something glittery for Izzy so no one would miss it when they looked down at her fingers.

“Let’s head out,” she said a few minutes later, her voice quiet and gentle. “Simon isn’t going to be out all weekend, and I want to enjoy the beach while we can.”

“If I didn’t know you were waiting for me to propose, I’d think this was your plan to get me to marry you, Isabelle,” Clary shook her head ruefully but didn’t protest when Izzy urged her up from the sofa and towards their front door. “How did you even get him to give up on his house for our sake? Simon is many things, but generous with his home isn’t one of them. Do you remember the bathroom incident?”

Izzy chuckled as the memory flickered in her mind, Simon yelling at the both of them when they’d accidentally soaked the floor and had used towels to mop up their mess. He’d snubbed them for weeks afterwards, and it had taken gifts from both of them – cookies from Clary, flowers from Izzy – to finally earn his forgiveness.

“Well, it turns out our matchmaking efforts may not have been for naught after all,” Izzy grinned mischievously. “As soon as I mentioned that Jace would be in San Francisco this weekend, he was more than happy to hand his keys over to me.”

“Oh, really?” Clary smirked. “Well, well. Maybe true love will finally run its course.”

“He’s got a great example right here,” Izzy pointed out, pressing a quick kiss to Clary’s lips as her girlfriend slid into her sandals. She delighted in the way Clary’s eyes crinkled immediately after, in the way their mouths found each other again to share a more languid kiss before Clary pulled away for good.

“I love you, Izzy,” Clary whispered.

“I love you too, Clary,” Izzy murmured, interlacing their fingers as they finally stepped out of their apartment. “But I think I’ll love you even more on that beach.”

“Where no one can see us?” Clary teased her. “And maybe some home-brewed cocktails? Magnus gave me some of his recipes the last time I saw him, and I’ve been dying to try them out.”

They walked out into the afternoon sun with their hands still linked.

“You could make us a salad,” Izzy hummed appreciatively. “Something with onions and corn and that deli meat Simon likes to hide in his fridge where he thinks no one can find it. No tomatoes, of course.”

“Of course,” Clary laughed. “We can take a picture for our social media. The setting sun, maybe? Our fans will want to know where we are, and we can give them a mysterious response about an unknown benefactor who lent us their home for the weekend.”

“I like how you think, angel,” Izzy grinned. “We’ve got to keep some secret moments to ourselves, after all.”

“I think I’ll keep them all,” Clary told her with an adoring smile as she opened the door to Izzy’s car and climbed into the driver’s seat before Izzy could fight her over who would get to drive that day.

When Clary looked at her like that, there was nothing Izzy wouldn’t let her do.

“You just said you were going to take a picture of us at the sunset,” Izzy said dryly once she’d settled into her seat, her knees brought up to her chin. “How are you going to keep our moments secret if you’re also posting about them on social media?”

“Pictures don’t mean anything,” Clary scoffed. “They can have as many photographs of you if it keeps them happy, but the rest is for my eyes only.”

“Like what?” Izzy asked underneath her breath.

Clary answered with a kiss, warm and familiar and promising all at once. Their hands had found each other again between their seats. Izzy knew if she pulled away and opened her eyes, Clary would be staring at her with forever written all over her face.

“All your kisses, all your sighs and your complaints, everything you tell me when it’s dark outside or when we’re curled up on our couch together,” Clary told her like she was revealing the secret to the universe. “All of your laughs and giggles and loving smiles. Those are all for me.”

“I can live with that,” Izzy said breathlessly.

“Good,” Clary smiled, and it was like that first time all over again. Sunshine and angels and a feeling that Izzy’s world had just changed for the better. “Now, I hear we have a beach to enjoy. I find that particularly promising, because I met the love of my life on a beach. It’s bound to be a wonderful evening.”

It was the best kind of evening.

And when Izzy lay in bed that night, Clary’s red hair forming a halo around both of their heads, she did so with the knowledge that she would get to do this every day for the rest of her life.

She stared at the angelic woman next to her as her eyes fluttered shut and fell asleep with a smile on her face.