BLUE BANISTERS ➥ Damon Salvatore

TWENTY-FOUR ◦ Rather be Lonely

Arriving at the Mayor's estate, we stepped into a world of opulence and elegance. The party was already in full swing, with guests mingling and enjoying the lavish surroundings. I, myself, had a martini in hand. A delish drink I've yet to try. I ate the green olive off from the toothpick, and scanned the room with Beverly. "He should be here by now," Beverly sighs as she downs another shot of tequila.

Amidst the crowd, we spotted Vinny, a pristine young man with a thick accent and impeccably styled black hair. He exuded an air of confidence as he approached us, a drink in hand. "Ah, ladies," Vinny greeted us warmly, his accent lending an exotic charm to his words. "Don't worry, I'm not drinking the wine tonight," he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "I've got a special source of refreshment from the crowd." You've got to be kidding me... The accent was enough to fool anyone, but to me... no. I knew before he even approached us. That fake mustache was no disguise from the man I could identify out of ANY crowd. Damon.

I sarcastically chuckled at Vinny's playful comment, appreciating his lighthearted approach to our supernatural world. "Well, just be careful," I teased, a note of genuine concern in my tone.

Vinny, with a confident grin, offered a response that shook every bone in my body. "Baby doll, I'm centuries older than you. I'll do as I please." Damon was seriously in here parading around as some Italian man from Virginia. He didn't even attempt to change his last name! He is such an idiot!

Beverly's curiosity about the memory of herb-infused wine prompted her to ask Damon if he still had a bottle left. With a nod, he agreed to retrieve it, leading us out to his car parked nearby. As Damon retrieved the bottle, a hint of nervousness crept into his demeanor, and he let out a hesitant laugh. "Here you go, witchy-witch," he sang playfully, yet full of nerves.

Once Beverly had the bottle in hand, he looked at her and inquired, "Am I obligated to stay any longer?"

"Yes, you are," I stated firmly, making it apparent that just because he was older than I was, didn't mean he wasn't working for me.

"I wasn't asking you, you're just a little bunny... Beverly is something, okay." His voice fell frantic as his face began to contort in anguish. "OKAY," he shouted, "I'll stay, I'll stay." It seemed as if Beverly hadn't even moved an inch, yet she casted a detrimental amount of pain on the man.

"Let's go then," she demanded. Damon followed the two of us inside, but as the night progressed the three of us seemed to have parted ways. I found myself indulging in a few shots with some high school kids who had gathered outside. The alcohol began to take its effect, leaving me with a pleasant buzz and a sense of relaxation.

However, just as I was starting to enjoy the evening, I felt Damon's presence behind me. Seriously? Was he aware of my every whereabout? Why was he everywhere? Irritation and frustration welled up, and I couldn't help but express my exasperation.

"Seriously, Damon?" I exclaimed, turning to face him. "Are you going to lurk around every corner?"

Damon's expression shifted to one of confusion and frustration as he attempted to explain his presence at the party. "Lana, I was just at the party, same as you," he stated, his face scrunching up in annoyance. "I'm just an Italian wine connoisseur! I have a passion."

Rolling my eyes and setting my red solo cup on the ground, I stood up on unsteady feet. "Whatever. You're just head over heels in love with me, baby, but you won't admit it," I whispered up to him as I got as close to him as I could, our faces inches apart.

"Too bad you're drunk, Lana-Banana. Otherwise I'd give you the whole world and it's moon." The man who was in a joke of a disguise, dragged me back into the house where bodies were practically piled up against each other.