Hello! I figured it was time to hop on the fanfiction bandwagon, so this is my first one. I know the first chapter is quite short, but I wanted to get a feel for it, introduce characters etc. If I get a positive response, (and it's wanted!) I will make the next chapter longer. Basically this is what I like to read in a Delena fanfiction - I tried my hardest to write it, and then read it back like I was a different person. Please tell me what you think of it - I'd love to know your opinion!
Elena Gilbert took a deep breath and checked the details of the interview on her phone for the second time in five minutes and then looked up at the huge building in front of her, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She had been waiting for this for weeks. Her editor, Matt, had promised that she wouldn't be around to do any more articles if she couldn't snag this one. If it went well, it could make her career. If not – well, it didn't bear thinking about. She nervously smoothed her outfit of a simple ruffled cream blouse and skinny black jeans. There hadn't been any indication on how to dress, so she had to make as best a decision as she could. She glanced at her watch. She was nearly half an hour early but she was most certainly not going to be late for this. The tall building loomed above her. It had to be at least sixty stories, with glass windows lining the entire thing. Beside the revolving door in front of her was a single, silver sign – Salvatore Enterprises. Not that it needed it of course. Everyone in Mystic Falls knew of the Salvatore Brothers. After their father died, he had left them his multimillion dollar business. Salvatore Enterprises made and did everything, from films, books, TV shows, to kitchen appliances. The younger one, Stefan, was about 23 and was the vice president. He handled day to day business. And then there was the CEO, the famous Damon Salvatore. 26 years old and rumoured to be the most terrifying man in business. He was also meant to be with a different woman once a week and had never actually been in a committed relationship. He was intimidating, greedy, irritable and snarky. And Elena was here to interview him. Or attempt to, at least. She checked the time again. Twenty five minutes. She sighed and, with as much courage as she could muster, pushed through the door into the lobby.
The inside of the building was just as sleek as the outside. A black and white colour scheme, with a large reception area directly in front of her and a few leather couches with glass coffee tables were scattered around. Very simple and stylish. Trying to ignore the menacing looking guards at every corner, Elena marched up to the front desk where an older, frazzled looking woman was typing frantically at a computer. "Name?" She asked without looking up. Elena swallowed. "Elena Gilbert. I'm here for an interview with Mr. Salvatore?" The woman snorted but then slid a pass onto the counter. "Show that to anyone who asks. It's the top floor. And sweetie – good luck. You'll need it." Not calmed by the woman's comment, Elena looped the pass around her neck and mumbled a "Thanks." before proceeding to the glass elevator. She flashed her pass at the lift man who smiled at her and stood back to let her step inside. "Floor?" "The top one." The man pressed the button for the 65th floor and the doors slid closed. "Here to interview Damon Salvatore?" He asked as they flew upwards. Elena nodded, feeling fear roll in her stomach. "Well he's...he's a bit of a tricky one." "So I've heard." She mumbled as the lift jolted to a stop. "Well here we are. Just go down the hall, you'll get to his assistants desk and she'll take you from there. Good luck m'am." She smiled gratefully at him and stepped out. The doors binged closed instantly and he was gone. It seemed like nobody wanted anything to do with this floor.
*ELENA POV*
I continued down the long corridor, my feet sinking into the plush black carpet. There didn't seem to be any other offices up here I noted. This made me even more nervous. A desk with a young woman, about my age, perched behind it appeared. She looked up in surprise when she saw me. "Can I help you?" "I'm here for an interview...with Damon Salvatore?" I showed her my pass and she barely glanced at it. "I'm sorry but Mr. Salvatore isn't available for an interview today. Maybe another time, ok sweetie?" She went back to typing on her fancy computer – Salvatore brand, obviously. "No, you don't understand." I said desperately. "My editor arranged this with him, it's been planned for weeks and –" She cut me off, sounding impatient now. "Ms Gilbert, was it?" She sneered. "Mr. Salvatore's plans change in seconds and he really doesn't have time for an interview with some trashy magazine today. Now I will call security if you refuse to leave the premises." I was stumped. I hadn't thought about the scenario where I wouldn't even be allowed to see Damon. Be shot down by him, sure. But not even be allowed through? Suddenly one of the two doors opposite the desk opened and a pretty, giggling girl stepped out. She was gorgeous, with a perfect figure and tumbling blonde hair and kind blue eyes. She had a silly expression on her face as she shut the door behind her and then leaned against it, sighing with happiness. That was when she noticed me. "Meredith, who's this?" She asked, skipping over to lean on the desk and smiling at me warmly. The receptionist – Meredith – glanced up at me again. "Some reporter who allegedly had an interview with Damon today. She doesn't seem able to grasp the concept that Damon is busy." The blonde girl rolled her eyes. "Damon's never actually busy. He just likes to think he is. What's your name sweetheart?" She was smiling at me warmly and I felt slightly more confident. "Elena. Elena Gilbert." "Nice to meet you darling. I'm Caroline – the other brother's main squeeze." I shook her outstretched hand while taking her in. So this was the famous Caroline Forbes. She and Stefan were high school sweethearts and had been going out with an occasional break since then. She was notorious for loving to party but even the most vicious tabloid magazine was forced to admit that she and Stefan were certainly very deeply in love. "I'll see what I can do." She winked at me, before spinning around and opening the other door. Meredith shot up, looking horrified. "Ms. Forbes, you are not allowed to simply barge in whenever you feel like it!" Caroline ignored her and sang into the office. "Daaaamon! You have an interview booked and you are not going to blow this one off. It's time you actually opened up a little! And I like the look of this girl." I blushed slightly but couldn't help feeling pleased at the compliment. There was silence for a few seconds then an exasperated voice said "Caroline, who let you in?" Meredith rushed to the door. "Sir, I'm so sorry, she just barged on through, I couldn't stop her –" "It's your job to stop her Meredith. That is literally your only job. And you messed it up." Meredith looked on the verge of tears. "Sir, I'm sorry –" "Just get out of my sight." She nodded, biting her lips and sat down at the desk again. Caroline grinned, grabbed my arm and yanked me forward and suddenly I was face to face with one of the most successful men in America.
He was sunningly handsome with raven black hair, a chiselled jawline and piercing blue eyes that were staring at me so intently that I felt about two centimetres tall in his presence. He was wearing black trousers and an expensive looking (who knew white shirts could look expensive) white shirt, an outfit which oozed confidence and wealth. Caroline squeaked happily. "I'll leave you two to talk." Before she could shut the door, Damon glanced at her. "I don't do interviews Care, you know that." His voice made me feel weak. She waved it off. "It's time you did. The whole world is dying to hear about you Damon. At least think about it ok? This is your last chance before we go away for the winter. And be nice to her! I don't want her to leave crying like the rest of them!" This last comment didn't make me feel especially great but she was gone and the door was shut before I could say anything. And I was left alone with him.
He simply looked at me for a few moments. "I meant what I said."He murmured finally. "I really don't do interviews." "I...well...oh." I said feebly. He turned away and I was beginning to get the feeling that this really wasn't going to go anywhere. But I tried anyway. "Are you positive you don't? Do interviews I mean." For some reason he seemed to find this funny and he chuckled. But then he was back to seriousness. "I'm quite positive." He sat down at his huge, uncluttered desk and just looked at me. "May I ask...why?" I said hoarsely. He chuckled again. "Why in the world would I tell the world all my...secrets?" For some reason, this made me uncomfortable and I went back to looking at my shoes. "I guess...I suppose I shouldn't take up any more of your time then. Thank you, Mr. Salvatore." I turned to go but then he said something that made my heart stop. "Sit down." Hesitantly I turned and he gestured to the single leather chair in front of his desk. I perched on the edge of it and was forced to meet his gaze. "What did you say your name was again?" He asked, brow furrowed. I swallowed. "Elena Gilbert." "And the magazine you work for?" "The Daily Prophet." He laughed out loud at this. "That trashy old thing? Sweetheart, did your editor really think I would do an interview for that?" I blushed, feeling incredibly embarrassed. "Why did you let me in then?" I mumbled. "I want you." My head snapped up and I stared at him, positive I had just hallucinated. "I'm sorry; I think I just heard you wrong." He looked amused. "What I meant is I want your writing skills. I've read some of your work. You're good – very good. It's about time we wrote a book about Salvatore Enterprises. And I think you'd be perfect for it." I continued to gape at him so he took this as an invitation to continue. "It would involve travelling with us however. I don't have time to cut chunks out of my schedule just to do this. It would have to be on the go. You may have heard Caroline mention that we're leaving for the winter?" He paused to look at me so I nodded faintly. "Well we're leaving on Friday. We're going to New York to get a break from Mystic Falls. And you would be coming with us." I was still feeling shell shocked from this whole thing but he must have thought that I was waiting for something. "And of course, salary. You'd be paid 25,000 a week, so 100,000 a month, for anything from three to five months. And then you'd be paid half of all sales." He glanced at me and seeing my expression, frowned. "Are you ok?" I was practically hyperventilating on the floor at this stage. 100,000 dollars a month was more than I usually made in three years. Three years work in one month! I realised Damon was waiting for an answer. I struggled to remain calm. Don't get too excited, I thought, Don't look too eager. "Can I have some time to think it over?" "No." He said shortly, sitting back down. "It's now or never." I stared at him. I had to decide immediately? Alarm bells were ringing in my head. "But...I barely know you." I protested weakly. "And?" He sounded impatient at this stage. "And you're asking me to go on holiday with you!" He raised an eyebrow. "I would be on holiday. You would be working. And it wouldn't be just the two of us. Stefan and Caroline would be there too." Seeing I still looked uncertain, he sighed. "Fine. You want answers? Ask away then." For someone who had come to do an interview, it was pretty bad that I couldn't think of a single question. Not one. Seeing I had gone blank, Damon smirked. "Why don't I just tell you about myself then, hmm?" When I didn't reply, he continued.
"I'm 26. I'm from Italy originally, which means I'm an excellent cook. My mother died when I was born and my father died four years ago. I've lived in Mystic Falls for 20 years now. I'm single, never been in a proper relationship – although I've been told that hasn't affected me in bed. Quite the opposite in fact." He smirked at my blush at this comment. "I have properties on every continent and I speak several languages. And now," He continued. "It's your turn to tell me about you." Somehow I found my voice and began to talk.
"I'm 22. I've lived in Mystic Falls my entire life. My parents–" I furiously swallowed back the lump in my throat, annoyed with myself. "My parents died in a car crash eight years ago. I've lived with my aunt Jenna ever since." If my little burst of emotion had bothered him, he didn't show it. Instead he nodded slightly, indicating I should continue. "I've a brother, Jeremy. He's only just turned 17. I've loved writing since I was a kid." "Any boyfriends?" Damon asked. I smiled sadly and shook my head. "I broke up with my boyfriend Tyler 6 months ago actually. It...Well, it wasn't working." "What went wrong?" He asked softly. I blushed again, and shook my head, attempting to be nonchalant. "Oh it was just a bit of a spat." But my voice cracked, letting me down. Damon leaned forward, pressing his fingertips together. "If we're going to work together, I'll be expecting upmost honesty Ms. Gilbert." I was trying desperately to think up a lie because there was no way I was telling him the actual problem but my mind was failing me. "The truth please Ms. Gilbert. I can't let you work for me if you're going to hide things. What if it's a massive flaw of yours, that will affect you working for –" "It was sex, ok?" I interrupted. "He wanted it, I didn't. So he slept with someone else." I blinked back tears angrily, furious at myself for letting emotions out in such an unprofessional way. "Who was it?" Damon murmured, his voice velvety but gentle. I looked at the ground. "My best friend." The images from that horrible night came flooding back to me and I squeezed my eyes shut trying to get rid of them. I opened them again and then smiled as brightly as I could. "Anyways, it doesn't matter. I'm over it at this stage." I glanced up hesitantly and that his eyes held no emotion whatsoever. And suddenly I felt incredibly angry at myself for what I had just done. I had just started bawling to some guy I'd never met before about my relationship problems and how my boyfriend had cheated on me when it was this same guy who probably did the same thing all the time. As if he was reading my thoughts, he spoke quietly. "Just because I don't think that sex is 'special' doesn't mean I don't understand that other people do, Ms. Gilbert." He was looking at me with his piercing gaze again and I felt my insides turn to jelly. "So are you on board with the book? I can assure you that it will be the best decision career wise that you've ever made. And I'll handle everything with your current editor. I'll set him straight about our interview as well." I took a deep breath and then gave my answer – a nod.