Hey guys, another Vampire Diaries fanfiction and of course I don't own anything you recognise from the Vampire Diaries. I know I havent updated my other stories in forever but the idea for this one came to me and I had to write it. xD

Chapter 1: Trouble In Paradise

I was asleep, lying down on my blow-up bed that was currently floating around in the pool, when I was rudely awakened by my maid, who, it has to be said, looked rather flustered. Still, she could of at least given me another half hour, jeez.

"Danger, er, you're father wants to speak with you. It's about Tristan." she stuttered, and then rushed off like I was some sort of wild beast she had disturbed. Come to think of it - I wasn't usually in the best of moods when somebody woke me up.

I slowly sat up, the water tinkling from the air bed, and stretched my arms out wide. The tips of my hair were wet and tickled my back playfully. The sun was bright today, shining like there was no tomorrow down on the mansion.

Then it hit me. That pang of despair you get when you wake up from a dream and you're back in dreary reality. Tristan was gone. Drug overdose. He just had to didn't he? He was doing so well with his music - a talent that the whole family had. You would have probably heard of him. Tristan Tyler, son of James Tyler, lead vocalist in rock band, 'Mauled By Wolves', brother of Danger-lee Tyler, lead vocalist in punk rock band, 'Chasing The Dark'.

He was an awesome brother too, helped me with lyrics for new songs when I was stuck. I didn't see him going down that road, and now all the damn paparazzi wouldn't leave us alone about it. Every time we think the grief is finally fading, there'll be some stupid, interfering journalist of some trashy magazine shoving his bloody tape in my face and asking me questions that quite literally, make me want to find a bathroom and hurl my guts out all over again.

I couldn't be bothered paddling myself over towards the side of the pool, so instead I just leapt in, not caring that my clothes were gonna get soaking wet.

I clambered out and started towards my Dads study.

All along the huge halls were pictures of us all, except Mom of course. She had cheated on Dad when we were only small and he had thrown her out - I don't blame him. She was only with him for the money even though he is quite a handsome guy for his age if I must say. Must be where I get my looks from. Wow, big-headed much.

I got to his office and stepped inside, clad in my dripping wet clothes.

He was stood near the window, just gazing out at the ocean like he always did when he was deep in thought. He heard me and turned around. He just gave me a funny look. Probably wondering why I had just walked into his study looking like the monster from the deep. That's a fact too - I can guarantee my eyeliner had run.

"Hey Dad." I greeted with a cheery smile. There wasn't much to be happy about but guess what? When the going gets tough, the tough get going.

"I think you need a break."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Tristan's passing is taking it's toll on all of us, especially you. You haven't been able to sing one song since he died." He looked me in the eye.

"I'm sure that's only temporary Dad, I'll be back to normal soon." I tried to reassure him.

"And those bloody paparazzi, I might go for a drive and run a few of them over." His accent showed from our long time in England. We used to live over there - I was born and raised there, but then we moved over to the US when Dads band hit it big.

I laughed, I wanted to go for a drive with him.

He sighed. Looking more closely at him I realised he looked different from what he usually did. His dark brown, almost black hair, was dishevelled - as if he'd been running his fingers through it with stress. Dark bags occupied under his royal blue eyes, and his eyes had lost their friendly sparkle. His skin was as pale as ever, but gaunt and dull and he slouched in his posture.

"Sure Dad. I'll take a break." I didn't know what this break consisted of but I didn't think he would be sending me off to a swanky penthouse somewhere. Damn.

He turned towards me again and began speaking.

"I've arranged for Olga and Felicity to go with you. You are going to Fells Church, I think you'll like it there if you forget you're a punk-rock star worth millions."

"Dad, it's a bit hard to forget I'm a punk-rock star worth millions. Plus, I think they might get a bit suspicious if 'Danger-lee Tyler is on their class list."

"That's why we are changing your name. And perhaps giving you a wig."

"A wig! Dad! I hate wigs! They itch! I'm not Hannah Montana you know!"

"Darling, I know you're not Hannah Montana."

"And what's my name going to be?"

"I don't have a clue, Felicity said she would sort it out."

Great. He left it up to my manager, who happens to adore anything with glitter, sequins, actually, anything that sparkles manically. Yeah she is organised, but she is quite the complete opposite of me. She's a fashion magazine editor and has worked with people such as Selena Gomez, Fergie, Jennifer Lopez, Alicia Keys and Shakira. God knows why she ended up with me.

So, I was going to some random place with my crazy manager and my mumbling maid.

I sauntered off to my room to take a shower and start packing.

Surprisingly, when I got there, my suit case was already packed and on my bed, next to a wig. After I had showered, got dressed in some skinny, black, ripped jeans and a baggy, red tee, I tried it on. I struggled at first, trying to fit all of my fiery red hair inside it, but when I did I looked…normal. Except for my eyes which were still that striking dark purple colour. They were so unusual. My Dad had dark blue eyes and apparently, my Mom had violet coloured eyes - I guess they mixed and gave me these dark purple eyes. Dad always called them dazzling Amethyst's. Tristan had these eyes too.

The wig was a mousey brown bob with bangs. It wasn't all that bad but I had decided to despise it.

I took the thing off and then looked in the mirror again. Naturally, I had dark brown hair like my Dads, but when I started the band I'd wanted to go for a more striking look, so I died it bright red with a few black streaks hanging around. I'd just left it long, so now it was half way down my back and I had some bangs cut in. I was quite muscular now I looked - still slight, but muscular. When I lifted up my top, I could spot the shadows of a two pack there somewhere. It made me laugh, I was probably like this because me and the guys in the band had play fights all the time. Damn, that reminded me, I needed to see them before I left.