As the rain poured down, drenching the streets of New York in gloom, a tempered young man walks through a puddle forming on the new sidewalk. An automobile driving too close to the curb splashed mud and sludge into the path of the man, ducking into the doorway of a hidden entrance.

Shaking the water from his umbrella, he opened the door to a smell of heavy cigar smoke and hard liquor. The young man smiled to himself as he stepped through the frame and deposited his coat and hat with the young girl at the door—who blushed scarlet when he whispered something into her ear.

Whistling to himself, he wafted through the tables and curtained enclosures to his own private arena. As he lit up his own cigar, puffed a few lengths, he enjoyed the talent singing in the background. The madam of the establishment came into his private rooms asked, "Would you be taking your usual, Mr. Mikaelson?"

This Mr. Mikaelson looked up, mirth in his eyes and a matching grin on his lips, he answered the woman, "My dear Agnes, you are a delight, yes, my usual, please."

Agnes curtsied and backed out of the private room. She replied, "Very well. I'll get them for you." She turned on her heels to leave.

Before she left, Mr. Mikaelson added, "You may call me Kol, Agnes."

Turning around to face him again, Agnes smiled thoughtfully, "I don't think it is wise for me to be so familiar with my customers," she added, "you are no exception." She smiled again, turned back to her original task. The awkward silence was interrupted by new arrivals to the man's table.

Ladies—in various stages of undress—surrounded Kol. Some more delicate than others, his loving eyes and coaxing gestures left their innocence on the other side of the curtain. Slender white necks exposed for his taking, Kol licked his teeth as he picked out his first female. He motioned for his other companions to watch as he set his teeth against the exposed vain in the young lady's neck, blood encapsulated the veins around his eyes, he bit through the flesh. Blood poured from the open wound, he smiled up at his audience.

He spoke soft enough that only the immediate area could hear him as he asked, "Do you know what would happen if I didn't give her some of my blood to replenish her fluids?"

The young women were confused. Some had a horrified look on their face. He grinned at them all. Kol continued, tore himself in the arm and shoved the bleeding wound into the girl's face, "Lucky for her, I'm feeling generous today."

Before he could say another word, Agnes returned to the private party with the drinks. A stony look of ineptitude on her face, Kol frowned when she returned. She apologized, "I'm sorry for the interruption, Mr. Mikaelson, but someone has requested your company. It is of the utmost importance he said, privately." Agnes fidgeted with her bar apron, nervously.

Anger surged through Kol at the interruption, he smiled at Agnes, "Very well," he signaled for everyone of his company to leave, "I'll take it. Send him in."

Like before, Agnes went to retrieve this stranger. No face could be distinguished underneath the wide brimmed dark hat and dark scarf. Kol tensed up when Agnes showed this gentleman into his private area. What is he doing here, he thought to himself.

To give them more privacy, Agnes left Kol with this strange man. His features may have been hidden to him at first, but his manner of interruption and entrance was not unknown. He smiled bitterly at his brother as he said, "It's been a long time, brother."

Having removed his hat, he revealed a slicked back casing of dark blonde curly hair and piercing blue eyes. He glared knowingly at Kol, as he answered, "Not long enough, I'm afraid." His voice sounded both sinister and almost warm at the same time.

"Would you care for a drink, Nik," Kol asked genteelly, offered one of the glasses Agnes had delivered earlier. His brother's expression unchanged as he set down the glass in front of Klaus. Pursing his lips, he asked instead, "what are you here for anyway?"

Klaus remained silent for several minutes, let the buzz of entertainment outside their private section hum with greater fervor. To relieve the tension, Kol took another swig of liquor from his glass, waited for Klaus to speak again. He didn't move a muscle except to hide a grimace.

"I'm not coming back with you, Nik," Kol answered himself, "I kind of like it on my own. Here in New York."

"I can see that."

With a tilt of his head, he indicated the young woman tending the bar. She's a pretty thing, for a human, at least. Klaus smiled knowingly, "It's a shame you won't be around to see her much longer."

Always skeptical, Kol arched his eyebrow at Klaus. He didn't know what else to say. Klaus usually left cryptic messages like that all the time. He replied, "What is that supposed to me-?"

Before he could finish the sentence, a wooden stake appeared and stabbed him into the middle of the heart with it. Shocked and dismayed, he stared up at his brother; pain enveloped his face as he lurched forward in his seat with a dagger sticking out of him. Doubting his brother's intentions were honorable, Kol added, "Why are you doing this, brother, I thought we would have a good time."

As he slowly faded into a melancholy sleep phase, Kol heard Klaus' final words to him as the dagger ripped a hole in his heart. He spoke, "I promise family will come first next time."

It was a promise he intended to keep.