Rose tilted her head, staring at Damon across the bed. "Come on," she said. "Don't tell me you've never thought of it."

Damon couldn't stop his heart from beating so fast, he wished he could, knowing Rose could fully hear the thundering beats. "No. I thought doppelgangers came around every few hundred years."

Shrugging, Rose began to stand up, putting her clothes back on. "It's not an exact science. My knowledge doesn't extend past the doppelganger's name and where she was living at the time."

"Then why did you come after Elena?" Damon couldn't keep the slight anger from his voice. Everything that has happened could've been avoided? That was a hard thought to swallow.

"Because she was the closest?" It turned out more of a question. Rose rolled her eyes. "I don't know. She was the easiest to track. Gianna Trallo was a foster kid. Moved around so much I couldn't keep up with where she was born. The point of the sacrifice is to hold it at the birthplace of the doppelganger."

Eyebrows raised in disbelief, Damon demanded, "So that's it? You just kidnapped Elena because you were too lazy to do some research?"

"Trevor and I spent months following her. We dug up every file we could about her, compelled every social worker who had handled her case. No one knows where she came from."

Silence followed after that as Rose finished getting dressed and Damon mulled over what she'd said. Finally, with her hand hovering the doorknob, just about to leave, Rose murmured, "I only told you this because I like Elena. Maybe she doesn't have to die."

"But someone else will."

Damon decided not to tell anyone of the other doppleganger. He'd been tempted to, many, many times. Everytime he'd had to look into Elena's sad eyes. For her, the decisions was already made. She accepted her death sentence, but Damon couldn't. He refused to.

That's why he was sitting in his car outside an establishment with an unlit sign of a girl in a bikini and a bottle of alcohol. Gianna Trallo's neighbor had directed him to it after a little compulsion.

Elena would never let him do this if she knew about Gianna. It wasn't Gianna fault she was born looking exactly like Elena and Katherine. But it's not Elena's fault also, and it's not her burden to carry.

Rose had said Gianna's life was hard, but not supernatural hard. She'd never met a vampire, werewolf, or anything out of the ordinary. She didn't have a family. Barely any friends outside of neighbors.

It would so easy for her to replace Elena's place in the ritual.

Exhaling loudly, Damon got out of the car and made for the door. Immediately, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of the place. A strip club.

From his place by the entryway, Damon could count about five men sitting among the seats. He chose a random table and sat. He didn't know what he was waiting for her. He should be backstage, compelling Gianna's whereabouts out of her coworkers.

"What can I get you?" A bubble voice startled him out of his train of thoughts. Damon let his eyes go over the girl's attire appreciatively.

"Cute bunny ears."

The girl's fake smile widened. "Thanks," she said. "Would you like anything? Beer or-"

"Bourbon would be nice." Damon's gaze strayed to the doorway of the room leading up to the stage. He could swear he'd seen a flash of familiar brown hair. The girl waiting on him followed where he was looking. "Show's starting in a minute."

Almost on cue, the lights dimmed and a central spotlight focused on stage. "Everyone," a man spoke over the speakers. "Let's give a warm welcome for our lovely and beautiful Ruby."

Damon's heart dropped in his stomach as the same exact version of Elena Gilbert came on stage. It's not Elena. He reminded himself as Gianna smiled seductively at him, hips swaying back and forth as she made her way to the pole at the edge of the stage.

It's not Elena. Damon thought as music started playing. A soft, raspy voice singing. It wasn't any hip hop or pop artist. This was something else.

It's not Elena. They just looked exactly alike. Same brown, doe-like eyes. Same body. Same face. Same lips. The only difference between Elena and Gianna was the hair, while the same color, Gianna had hers cut to her shoulders.

When the girl server came to bring him his bourbon, Damon could barely tear his eyes from Gianna dancing.

Before the girl left, Damon's hand shot up to grasp her wrist. "I want her," he said clearly. "The girl on the stage-Candy." he forced the name out. He caught the server's eyes and widened his own. "Tell me everything you know about her."

"Her name's Gianna, but she likes to go by Gia," the girl said in a monotone.

Lips thinning in irritations, Damon's grip tightened on her wrist. "Tell me something important."

"She came to town two months ago. No one knows where she came from. She takes her pay in cash only." A confused look passed over her. "Why am I telling you this?"

"It's okay," Damon murmured soothingly. "I want more. There's something you're not telling me."

"I shouldn't-"

"Tell me," Damon compelled.

"Her ID's fake," the girl blurted. "I can see a fake ID a mile away. I figured she's running away from an abusive boyfriend or something. She looks old enough." She suddenly looked scared. "Is she running from you? Do you know her?"

Something like regret bloomed in Damon's chest, but he ignored it and let her go. "Thank you. You've been very helpful." He reached into his pocket for his wallet and dug out a couple hundred dollar bills. "How much does it cost for a private room?"