Camille O'Connell had known about the existence of supernatural beings ever since she was a little girl. She could sense them like a person could sense an oncoming storm even when there were no clouds in the sky. There was a gut feeling that always gave their presence away, something that tugged at her stomach, telling her to be on alert.
Even though these supernatural beings looked like everyone else, she always knew who they were, or rather what they were. A few different times, she tried to discern if any of her friends could tell by asking subtle questions. "Have you ever noticed that your stomach goes queasy whenever Mr. Washburn is around?" "Do you ever get goosebumps whenever you talk to the girl who's always working at the coffee shop your mom likes to go to?" After every question, she was met with a resounding No. None of her friends seemed to notice what was so plain to her.
She was sure her brother had known about the others. She didn't know how he knew, or when he had figured it out, or how he'd come to associate with the witch who hexed him. By now it was a little too late to ask him. But he had known somehow, and probably had the same sense as her.
On her first date with Daniel, she had told him she knew what he was. "Cut the crap," she had said. "I know that you know that I know who you are. What you are. What I don't know, what I can't tell is if you're sizing me up to be your next meal or if you're actually interested in keeping me alive for at least one more date."
"You're much smarter than I ever anticipated, especially considering you're a human," he had said. "Funnily enough, I was pondering the exact conundrum you've presented."
Cami had stiffened in her seat; she had not considered that he had actually been contemplating killing her. But she had covered her discomfort well. "I suggest you keep me alive," she had said.
"Do you have a reasoning beyond the fact that you like living?"
"When was the last time you interacted with any human at all, let alone one who knew what you are? When was the last time you interacted with a human that knew what you are, and you didn't have to compel them? Don't you want to know what it would be like?" She had given him her coyest smile.
Thirty minutes later and they were naked in her apartment.
Now, a year later, the novelty of loving a vampire had lost its alluring, enticing luster. She had once reveled in the knowledge that she, a mere fragile human, had captured the attention of one of the deadliest creatures in existence. When Daniel had taken her to events where she was the only human in attendance, power flooded her body, knowing that she felt entitled to be there amongst the ranks of elite immortals. Pride flowed through her, knowing that anyone else in the room could tear her to shreds with the greatest of ease, but yet no one would dare to touch her. Eyes would turn to her, wonder what she was doing there, and she would draw her shoulders back in pride, clutching Daniel's arm tighter.
As time passed and Daniel's friends got to know her, they had grown comfortable with her, and where she had once felt almost better than them for being allowed to remain human in this flock of vampires, she now felt decidedly inferior. His friends humored her, asking her about her life and her work and anything new going on with her, but at the end of the day, they really had nothing in common.
Daniel neither treated her as a human or otherwise, and she extended the same courtesy to him. He never told her that her species was weaker than his own, never talked about the methods he used to feed himself, and she never asked. They just pretended that such unpleasantries did not exist.
Thus, their life together had become quite domestic, something that Cami had hoped to avoid. She had certainly never expected that dating a vampire would become so…mundane. Every night she would lie down beside Daniel and feel this itch somewhere behind her heart. It took every ounce of restraint in her body not to get up and go, pack a bag in the night, crash on a friend's couch until she found somewhere else to go.
It didn't help that she felt something else was wrong with her, and she didn't know what it was. It was a quiet, unsettling feeling that had nested deep in her stomach. It bothered her each day at work, whenever she sat down to eat her lunch, whenever she had to listen to whatever banality Deb or Ross or Manfredo from the fifth floor had to say, whenever she got called into speak with her boss Jerry. Somehow, whoever she got up to go to work, whenever she was on the bus on the way there, as soon as she got there, all she could think of was Death. Not death in the sense that Daniel was dead, but real Permanently Dead Death.
She thought of all the days that had passed her, and all the days she had before her, and she wished that the days ahead were limited to a very small number. It wasn't that she would actively try to kill herself. It was just that when she thought of her life, when she thought of the tedious, pointless days at work, and the emptiness she felt at home, she wished it would end sooner rather than later.
So often she had nightmares about working at the marketing agency for the rest of her life, feeling miserable, knowing there was no way out. She would wake up gasping, in a cold sweat, clutching her chest.
That was the first indicator for Daniel that something was off. He began to ask her questions, always asking if she was okay. She wanted to scream at him, to tear her hair out, to shout, "Of course I'm not godd*mn okay!" There was this unshakeable sadness inside her, and she wanted so badly to ask for help. But she would always wave him off, say she didn't know what he was talking about, she was fine.
Then the zoning out happened. She would lose chunks of time because she could not pay attention. She felt tired all the time. She couldn't focus on work. Every extra minute she could find was spent trying to nap.
Daniel had once shaken her awake and she had yelled at him. "I'm exhausted, and I barely get enough sleep as it is without you waking me up!" she had said.
He looked at her in that concerned, patronizing way that she hated. "Camille, you sleep all the time. You get, like, twelve hours a night." She wanted to slap him. He leveled his eyes with her. "Now, I know I ask you this all the time, but I am really worried about you. So I want an honest answer, no lies. Promise? Are you okay?"
She had stood up and brushed past him. "I'd be fine if I could just get half a second of sleep around here."
Daniel had sighed, knowing that something was wrong but not knowing what or how to fix it. If Cami wouldn't tell him, there was not much he could do. A few times he considered compelling it out of her, but he knew she would never forgive him for that. He just wanted to help, and he wanted her to be happy, but he didn't know what to do.
After two months of living with the deep-rooted sadness that was plaguing her, Cami began to have hope again. The spark had been planted by an upcoming event, a gala hosted by the marketing company in honor of the company's tenth anniversary. A warmth had flooded Cami's stomach when she had heard of it, coming up at the end of the month. She saw it as a way out of the endless pit of boring domesticity that she had fallen into. It would be an excuse to go shopping for a new dress, to get dolled up, to go out with Daniel, to have a little fun even. And so she set her sights on the gala, hoping beyond hope that it would be just the kind of thing she would need to keep herself going.
The night of the gala, she spent two hours on her hair and makeup. As Daniel zipped her into her dress, he moved the ringlets of her curled hair aside and kissed her neck. "You look so beautiful," he whispered into her skin. "If we didn't have to go right now, I would ravish you." She blushed under the warm touch of his lips against hers. For the first time in months, she did not turn away from his kiss but instead leaned into it, kissed him back, wrapped her hands up in his hair.
She slid the jacket of his tuxedo off his shoulders. Daniel glanced down as it hit the floor, obviously concerned that it would get wrinkled or ruined, but she grabbed his chin, focusing his attention slowly on her. She kissed him deeply. A fiery intensity bubbled up within her, something she hadn't felt in months, and she desperately wanted him. It was overwhelming her, becoming like an insatiable need. "We have time," she whispered breathlessly, kissing down Daniel's neck as she unbuttoned his shirt.
He turned her around roughly, unzipping the back of her gown that he had zipped only moments before. He pulled the silky navy fabric away from her skin, kissing down her collarbone and across her chest. Her head was swimming, intoxicated by his touch and his presence. Cami was breathless, her brain clouded over with desire and wanting. Daniel's hands were everywhere, on her breasts, her waist, dipping below the waistband of her underwear. She wanted this so badly, she had wanted to get this lustful feeling back for so long…
And then the thoughts came back. We're going to be late for the gala. I have to go to the gala for my job. I hate my job. My job is pointless. Life is pointless. And suddenly she could breathe all too well, and she could not shut the thoughts out. They clouded all the passion she had felt only milliseconds ago, and she stepped away from Daniel, pulling his hand away from between her legs.
"We should go," she said quietly, trying to mask all the emotions tumbling inside her. She felt guilty for stopping—she had wanted to keep going, but these thoughts… And she felt defective, like she just couldn't be a normal person who was happy to have sex with her partner. Mostly she just felt sad again, and the moment of lust that had washed the sadness away was gone.
"You're really gonna get a guy worked up just to say you have to go?" Daniel said, still standing close to her, his head inclined towards her.
"I thought I'd save the good stuff for after the party," she said with a coy smirk, hoping she sounded convincing. She highly doubted that she would be in the mood after the gala, but she hoped to get Daniel drunk enough so that he wouldn't care anyway.
Daniel seemed to buy it though, as he helped her back into her dress, fixed her hair, and kissed her on the cheek. "I can't wait," he said with a smile. He looked at his watch. "You're right though, we really should get going."
The gala was at a country club about a half hour from their apartment, on the outskirts of New Orleans. Sun was starting to set as they arrived, casting the expansive golf course in a beautiful sherbet-colored glow. "I hope there's a lot of alcohol here," Cami said, mostly to herself.
Daniel smiled as they pulled up to the valet. "Just make sure to pace yourself. Don't get too wasted. But in case you do, I'll be there to hold your hair back for you if you get sick." He put his hand on top of hers and squeezed it and she had the sudden urge to get sick right then and there. She had to remind herself for the twentieth time that day that she loved him, she really did. It was just that she wanted to be left alone sometimes.
On the way into the country club, Daniel took her hand in his, leading her up the steps and into the massive, stuffy building. Cami could hear music pumping from the ballroom, and her stomach turned over. She extracted her hand from Daniel's, pretending that she needed both hands to keep the hem of her dress from dragging on the ground. She would have done anything, given anything just to go back to the car and lie down for a bit, or to just turn and run back home. Her high heels would be killing her by the time she got there, but she would have taken them off and walked home barefoot if she had to.
Daniel looked back at her, noticed her hesitation at the threshold to the country club building. "Are you alright?"
She swallowed the bile collecting in her throat, willed herself to keep moving. She thought to herself, He looks so handsome, don't ruin this for him. You can do this. "I'm fine," she said. "I'm ready." She hoped she sounded convincing.
The ballroom was towards the back of the expansive building, down a series of wide hallways covered in portraits of the club's biggest patrons, or previous owners, or celebrities who had been there. The music that was blaring was overpowering, audible even from outside the building, but was quickly becoming deafening the closer they got to its source. When Daniel took her hand again, she did not pull away this time.
Inside the ballroom, she recognized several of her coworkers talking in small groups scattered across the room, all chatting excitedly, glass of mixed drinks in their hands. Cami felt immediate relief at this; she knew she couldn't get through this night without at least three drinks.
Daniel was saying something to her, but the music was too loud. "What?" she half-shouted, leaning in.
He pressed his lips close to her ear. "Do you want something to drink?"
"Yes," she said, hoping she didn't sound desperate. They walked over to the bar, still hand in hand, and she wondered if the other people in the room were looking at her. Would they see her as a normal person, a successful career girl with a handsome boyfriend? Or did they see her for the fake that she was, plastering on an unconvincing smile, trying to pretend that everything is okay?
"Two Jack and Cokes," Daniel said to the bartender. He handed over his credit card, saying, "Keep the tab open for us."
When the drinks were handed over, Cami downed half of hers in one go. "Whoa there, tiger," Daniel said with a small laugh. "Slow down, I don't want to have to carry you home tonight."
"Just trying to loosen up a little," she said.
He stepped around her so that he was behind her, his hands beginning to massage her shoulders. "I know you've been so stressed lately." He kissed the spot where her jaw met her neck, and she felt the smallest hitch in her stomach, something reminiscent of the old days when she felt that overwhelming lust for him. "Tonight's going to be fun. And if it's not, we can leave."
Cami turned around to face him and let him wrap his arms around her, holding her close. When she looked up at him, his eyes lit up. "I have an idea, we should have a code word."
"A code word?" she said, one eyebrow raising in skepticism.
"Sure," he said. "A code word in case either of us wants to leave early and doesn't want to make it awkward by saying we're leaving. How about…" he thought for a minute, "Aardvark?"
"Aardvark?" she repeated, giggling a little. When she saw he was serious, she said, "Alright. Aardvark it is." She leaned in and kissed him once quickly on the cheek. "You are so thoughtful." Even though she felt that he could smother her sometimes, it was always endearing that he tried so hard to look out for her.
Daniel let go of her, turning to look out onto the dance floor for familiar faces, and Cami took the opportunity to down another large portion of her drink. "Richard is making eyes at us," he said, gesturing with his head towards where Cami's boss was staring at them from across the floor. As soon as she made eye contact with him, he was waving her over to him. The gala was getting crowded now, and it was hard to navigate the busy floor full of dancing bodies.
Slipping her hand into his, she squeezed his fingers. "Is it too early to say aardvark?"
He smiled at her. "Yes, just a little," he said. "It'll be fine. A few minutes of small talk and then we're off the hook."
Richard was a generally unpleasant person. He never seemed to know what was actually going on within the company, he never addressed any complaints that people had, and he always played it off like he knew exactly what was going on at all times when in fact he was totally clueless. But he was the chief executive of merchandising, and her boss, and she had to pull on her fake smile and hope that a conversation with him would be short.
"Richard," she said warmly. She extended her hand for him to shake. His cheeks were red from drinking already, and Cami was slightly relieved by this, hoping that his intoxication would make him more interesting, although she wasn't hopeful.
"Camille," he said in return. "Daniel, how nice to see you both."
"Yes, we're excited to be here," Cami lied easily.
"I have another reason for you to be excited," Richard said, a sly smile crossing his face. He stood aside and gestured towards a tall, slender man standing next to him.
Cami eyed this man from top to bottom, taking in his lanky frame, his crisp black suit, his perfectly coiffed dark blond hair, and his piercing blue eyes. The man gave a knowing smirk as she appraised him, as if he got such a look from people all the time, like he was used to being checked out on the regular.
Her stomach pinched suddenly, and she knew then that she was standing in the presence of another vampire. But something about this man had felt different from the other times she'd sensed a vampire, it was a stronger pull in her gut.
"This is our new associate, Klaus Mikaelson," Richard said, gesturing to the man.
Klaus extended his hand for her to shake. "Pleasure," he said, his voice low and smooth, slightly accented.
Cami felt a shiver rock through her. Something about this vampire was different from others that she'd met; she got the sense that he was stronger than the rest, although she didn't know how she knew that. She also knew that he was stunningly attractive, and her stomach felt increasingly uneasy with this realization compounded by the queasiness caused by sensing a supernatural presence. "Camille O'Connell," she said, trying to keep her composure.
She looked at Richard, hoping he would explain why she was supposed to be so excited about this new coworker. The four of them stood in awkward silence for several seconds before Daniel prompted, "So, Klaus, what do you do?"
Cami studied her boyfriend now, noticing that his posture had stiffened drastically, his shoulders drawn back, his jaw tight. So he could sense it too, she thought, he could see that Klaus was more than just an ordinary vampire.
"Well, that's the funny thing," Richard interrupted, laughing loudly. No one else laughed with him. "Klaus is our new Senior Marketing Consultant."
The color drained away from Cami's face. "But that…Are we…." she tried to control her voice to keep it from shaking, but she was becoming increasingly panicked with every passing millisecond. "Are we having two people in the position now? Because that's…that's my job." Sure, Richard was an awful boss, but surely he wouldn't be firing her right here on the dance floor at the gala by introducing her to her replacement.
Richard put his hand on her shoulder. "Camille, you have been an asset to this company pretty much since we opened our doors. But I think it's time for our horizons to be broadened. And the best way I know how to do that is to give your position to someone else."
Tears started to well up in her eyes, and she thought she might have a panic attack. She couldn't believe she was about to lose her job at the one thing she had looked forward to in months.
"Becaaauuuussssee…." Richard said, drawing out the word. "Because I'm offering you the position of Art Director."
"You're kidding," Daniel said.
But Cami felt numb inside. She had barely even heard what Richard had just said because her mind kept cycling through the panic and anger she felt at the thought of being fired. Daniel nudged her, watching her reaction. "Babe," he said, smiling, "Art Director. Can you believe it? You got promoted!"
"Promoted?" she mumbled, the words still not registering.
"The position is yours, if you'll have it," Richard said.
Daniel kissed her on the cheek, squeezing her shoulders. "This is great!" he said, trying to fill in the awkward silence as she was still processing everything.
"There is one small catch," Richard said, pausing for Cami to ask what it was. When she didn't, he continued, "We need a new angle and theme for the Beaterrific campaign. By tomorrow morning. Do you think you're up for the task?"
Cami still had a glazed look in her eyes, and everything felt very far away to her, as if this were all happening to someone else. Promotion. Art Director. New campaign. Due by tomorrow. She had taken all these things in, but it was like a puzzle whose pieces didn't match up. She couldn't get any of it to make sense.
"Cami?" Daniel said, nudging her again. She looked at him, and then at her boss, and then at Klaus, all of whom were looking at her expectantly, waiting for her answer.
"Yes," she said after a moment. "I'll give it my best shot."
Richard smiled broadly. "Excellent!" He clapped a hand on Klaus's shoulder. "I'll leave it to Mr. Mikaelson to collect a new campaign slogan and direction from you by the end of the evening." With that, both Richard and Klaus turned on their heels and walked away, leaving Cami reeling.
She put a hand to her forehead. Did she have a fever? Was she hallucinating all this? It didn't seem real.
Daniel touched her shoulder. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Yes, I'm just….it's quite a surprise."
"Yeah! It's awesome," Daniel said, his tone trying to get her to realize that she should be excited too, even though she was still mostly just confused. "I wish he had worded things a little differently though…I thought you were getting fired at first!"
"I did too," Cami said.
"Well, do you have any ideas for the new campaign theme?"
Cami still couldn't clear her head. "I need another drink," she said, and made her way back to the bar.
"A Jack and Coke," she said to the bartender, "And make it strong, please." She was already pretty tipsy from the other drinks she'd had earlier, but she wanted to get really wasted now. Slowly it was sinking in that she had gotten promoted. And then it was sinking in that she only got promoted on the condition that she did the equivalent of a week's worth of work in the matter of a few hours. One the one hand, she wanted to drink to celebrate, and on the other she wanted to drink so that she didn't have to feel the crushing pressure of an unrealistic deadline.
"Make that two," a voice said from behind her.
Cami turned to find herself face to face with her replacement, Klaus Mikaelson. She wished he would go away; he was making this all too real for her and for the moment, she just wanted to pretend that this was normal night, one where she hadn't been promoted and then immediately expected to do a nearly impossible task.
"Mr. Mikaelson, is it?" she said.
"Klaus, please."
"And where are you from? What did you do before Richard got his hooks into you?"
"I've moved around a lot in my life, but mostly like to call this city my home. I've been working as a freelance consultant for firms in the area for a while, decided I should commit to one and give that a shot." Klaus cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes traveling up and to the left, listening to something keenly. "I'm quite fond of this song," he said. "Would you care to dance with me?"
Cami gulped down a big swig of her drink. "Sure," she said in a deep, might-as-well tone.
He smirked. "Don't sound so enthused, please."
As his hand slipped into hers to lead her onto the dance floor, she felt an electric tingle where his skin touched hers. Her stomach flipped over on itself, and she couldn't tell if it was because of her sense of the supernatural, or because she found him so attractive. She suppressed the latter thought, shaking her head as he took her into his arms, his left hand on her waist and his right in her hand.
They danced slowly; she was never a particularly good dancer, and she somehow felt embarrassed about that fact in front of a man who possessed so much grace and effortlessness. She felt his eyes on her, studying her, but she kept her eyes on her feet, focusing on not tripping.
After several moments of silence passed, their eyes met and she felt a shock pass between them. It was the strongest feeling she'd gotten in as long as she could remember. Ever since she'd been feeling down, all of her positive emotions had been dulled, subdued. Her love for Daniel, her excitement for life's daily little pleasures, her excitement for anything really had all taken a backseat to her sadness, her melancholy. So this electricity that she felt between her and Klaus both exhilarated her and frightened her.
"Do you have any ideas for the Beaterrific campaign?" he asked after a moment.
She broke their eye contact, feeling like she could not handle another millisecond of this terrifying connection. "No, nothing brilliant has struck me yet."
"I'm sure something will come to you. It's a shame you don't have too much time."
"Tell me about it," she said. Once again it was dawning on her: she had to come up with an entire campaign concept in less than ten hours.
"I've done some research on the company. I have a few files on it in my car, actually, if you'd like to take a look later. But I can tell you off the top of my head that it's a fairly new company, just started in 2014. Skincare and cosmetics marketed to twentysomethings and people who still like to pretend that they are twentysomethings. The CEO and founder is Bea Breton, the daughter of actress Ronni Breton."
She had known all of this before, but it wasn't giving her any brilliant ideas about a campaign direction. "I'd love to take a look at those files before you leave," she said. At this rate, she was going to have to stay up all night to get this done. But she was secretly hoping that if she could pull all this off, she could go in to the office tomorrow morning, give her pitch, and then Richard would be so pleased with her that he would tell her to go home and get some rest.
"Richard seems to have a lot of confidence in you to give you such a monumental task to accomplish in one night," Klaus pointed out. "You must be quite talented."
"That, or Richard is terribly misguided."
"I don't think so," Klaus said.
She finally looked up, their eyes connecting again.
"I think you can do it."
Her body flooded with warmth at the sound of his kind words. This stranger had faith in her, and she couldn't explain why that meant so much to her.
She felt her face flush, and her skin grew hot, and she noticed now that her hand was sweaty in his. His eyes were watching her intensely, and her head started to swim with wild, impossible thoughts. She wanted to be closer to him, she was drawn to him, she felt this connection to him that made her feel more intensely than she had felt in many months. If she didn't have a boyfriend, she would be trying to figure out how to get him alone so she could kiss him. An image of his lips against hers popped up in her head. Her heart was beating so quickly, and she was sure he could tell.
Withdrawing her hand from his, she stepped back, putting her hand to her head again. "I'm sorry," she said. "I think I need some air."