You were a Shadowhunter among many. You were friends with five people. Isabelle, Jace's sister, who had brown hair, dark eyes, and a paranoid attitude, Clary, a nice redhead girl, Simon, her boyfriend, who was thin and scrawny and had glasses too big for his face, Luke, a thirty-year old werewolf who was very polite and always willing to help, but was a bit overprotective, and Jace. Jace had golden hair, golden eyes, a small but masculine build, but he was also a bit arrogant and rude. Jace had gone down to the Werewolf's Bar that Sneaky Pete ran. But, Jace being Jace, started messing with the werewolf pack that was inside and ended up with them trying to claw him, bite him, and hurt him. Sneaky Pete and the pack leader, Luke, had stopped the fight, and especially Bat, ne of the members, who was more angry at Jace than all the rest. Bat grumbles and went outside to take a walk but immediately came back in. "There's a dead body in the alleyway." He says quickly. Everyone went out to check but Jace stayed inside, sipping his drink. They all came in and Bat immediately started back up again. "You! You're a Shadowhunter! You made a deal with us and the Clave! You're supposed to be protecting us!" Bat yelled. Jace just chuckled. "You don't seem to need defending though." Jace remarks. Bat was fuming. "That dead kid outside!" He yells. "He doesn't need protecting if he's dead, now does he?" Jace says smugly. Bat was about to jump him again but Luke stopped him. "Bat. Relax. But Jace, you are supposed to be helping us, alright, it isn't cool to just let someone die and then joke about it." Luke says patiently, like a father would. Jace rolls his eyes. "Sure, sure, as long as Bat gets that wedgie out of his ass." He says, laughing at his own joke.