Diverse

The runaway

NOTES: 

This story is like a crossover but actually it isn't a crossover. Alex loves Henry, Magnus loves Alec... As it should be. I plan to write it in a way that those who aren't into both fandom will enjoy it too. Let me explain what I mean:

🔹 If you're open for both fandom then for you this story is about Henry and Alex from RWRB, Magnus and Alec from Shadowunters. 
The story plot is slightly based on High Strung (movie 2016)

🔹 If you're into only RWRB, you can read it like an RWRB AU. Think of the teachers' names as just one name among many.

🔹 If you're into only Malec, then likewise, think of Alec and Magnus as the main characters,
and their students' names as just one name among many.

👉 So I hope it will be a pleasure to read for RWRB fans, MALEC fans, and an even greater pleasure to read for those who are both Malec and RWRB fans, like myself. I'm not mixing up the love stories between the main characters. Everyone is in love with who they are supposed to be in love with.

👉 It's actually two love stories in one fic. With lots of angst, a definite slow burn and of course, as always with me, a happy ending.There will be a lot of flashbacks. I'm going to jump in space and time and I'll switch POVs during the fic, but I don't think you'll have any trouble figuring it out.

London, now

"You make me sick. My own son? What the fuck? how...? It must have been your faggot teacher who filled your head with this disgusting stuff."

"But Dad, I'm the same as I was yesterday. I am your son. Henry. My violin teacher had nothing to do with it. And you know what? Mr. Lightwood has helped me a lot more than you ever have." Henry said in a trembling voice with tears in his eyes.

"My son does not kiss men!" His father yelled at Henry.

"But dad, please..." Henry was nothing but a whisper.

"No buts! Don't worry, I know a good psychologist. He'll fix you. Now go up to your room. I don't want to see you today."

Henry ran up to his room. He was extremely disappointed. He felt as if his heart had been ripped out. His mind was racing with thoughts. He was frustrated and he knew only one thing. He needed to get out of here. Now. He threw some clothes in a backpack, he grabbed the pic from his nightstand. This was the last photo of him and his mum before she died. He took his laptop, and his most precious treasure, his Luigi Mingazzi violin. He looked around his room and knew he would never come back here.

When he went downstairs, his father was still there, a bottle of beer in his hand. He looked at his son, confused.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a voice clouded with alcohol.

"It's none of your business." Henry said nothing more and closed the door behind him.

He wandered the streets of London with troubled minds. He had no friends to ask to stay for a night. In fact, he was all by himself. He had no idea where to go. Finally, he ended up in a park. He sat down on a bench and spent the night. It was late May, the dawn was pleasantly chilly but not cold. He was thinking. A lot. It was 5 a.m. when he finally decided.

He took out his laptop and booked a flight to New York. He carefully planned everything. The money he inherited after his mother died wasn't much, but it was enough to get him through a few months in New York. He knew his mother had relatives living there. Maybe they could help him.