Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, but I do own my OC, Robyn, and any other original characters that will eventually make their way into this story.

Emily's POV

"I know you miss her...I know you miss me too." I looked over at my sister from across the living room, rolling my eyes when I saw that she had a hand held over her mouth to keep from laughing. There was one reason that I was glad to be so far away from our mother: she was too overprotective of us. When I moved out of our little suburban town a year ago, she made sure to call every day to see how I was, and I was almost positive that she would do the same now that Robyn had moved in with me.

I knew that she wouldn't have let Robby find a place of her own, and when my old roommate got sick of her own mother's bickering and got a one-way train ticket to New York so she could have some peace and quiet, I quickly told mother that she could move in with me. I had spent the entire night in the dining room with her, arguing that Robyn needed her own space; an hour before the sun rose the next morning, mother had relented on the terms that I wouldn't let Robyn get into any trouble. (What kind of trouble could Robby get into, anyways?)

"Has Robyn been sleeping well?" my mother asked over the phone.

"I wouldn't know," I informed her. "You'd have to ask her." The smile was immediately gone from my sister's face and she frantically waved her hands.

"I would love that," Mother chimed happily. I put the receiver down on the table and walked towards my sister.

"She wants to talk to you," I said. Robyn let out an exasperated sigh, pushed her brown hair out of her eyes and reluctantly got up to talk to our mother. I laughed and walked into the kitchen, where my fiancé—Greg—was opening a bottle of wine.

"She's 21," he chuckled. "Do you think that your mother will ever stop treating her like a baby?"

"I don't know," I told him, leaning my head on his shoulder—well his arm really, since he was so much taller than I was. "You're the youngest in your family. Does your mother ever stop pinching your cheeks and baby-talking to you?" Greg smirked and looked down at me.

"What am I going to do with you?"

Robyn's POV

"Your sister?"

It was an exclamation I had grown accustomed to hearing since I moved in with Emily almost a week ago. My sister had been slowly introducing me to the other tenants in the building, who, to my surprise, acted as if they were one big happy family. They had been shocked when she told them that I was her younger sister, especially Mrs. Peterson.

I walked out of the apartment, in a rush of excitement to leave so I could get to the library in time for my first day. I pushed my key into the lock and turned it, making sure the door was secure. I turned around and jumped when I found a small elderly woman standing behind me with a smile on her face.

"Hello dear," she said.

"Uh, hello," I replied.

"I'm Eileen Peterson," she continued. "You must be Emily's new roommate. That crazy girl Perry's replacement." I could see the malice in the woman's eyes when she mentioned Perry, and instantly remembered the stories Em told me about the endless feud between Perry and Mrs. Peterson.

"Uh, yes," I nodded. "I-I'm Robyn, Emily's sister."

"My lord," she smiled. "I would never have guessed; you two don't look anything alike."

"Trust me, I definitely get that a lot."

It was true, though; Emily and I didn't share much resemblance to each other. My sister was had wavy ginger hair, clear blue eyes and sharp, angular features; I, on the other hand, had pin-straight brown hair, hazel eyes and a heart-shaped face with soft features. The two things we shared were our alert round eyes, and incredibly petite statures.

"I'm sure you're just as sweet as she is, though," Mrs. Peterson said with a smile. "As a matter of fact, I think you and I will be good neighbors…so long as you don't touch my mail…not like that menace Perry."

"Actually, I thought she was—" I was cut off by the dark look she shot me. "—a menace, too. Ooh…bad, bad Perry."

Silence. As much as I loved it being among so many pages—so much knowledge—having to sit here for six hours in complete silence was tedious. Occasionally, someone would come to my desk and ask where to find a certain book, or there would be a loud, echoing bang when a visitor dropped something on the floor. I spent whatever free time I could exploring the rows of books and shelves, skimming over title and plucking out a few that interested me.

My friends back home had made fun of me when I said I inquired about a job at the University Library. Oh, Robyn, you should just get married to your books. The jokes on them; knowing the decimal classification by heart got me this job, and they were probably still sitting at their home, bored to death with their mothers talking their ears off. I was independent, I was…self-sufficient, I was…I was…

"Completely devoid of any adventure whatsoever," I said quietly, sighing at my obvious lack of excitement. I rubbed my eyes with my hands and sighed; maybe the silence was getting to me.

"You look sad," a loud voice startled me. I looked up and found a young, dark-skinned woman staring at me with a small smile.

"Me?" I asked.

"There's no one else here," she replied with a quick gesture around. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I shrugged. "I'm just…bored, I guess."

"It is a little quiet around here, isn't it?" she laughed. I nodded in agreement and then remembered where we were.

"Do you need any help finding anything?" I asked. The woman nodded and placed a small piece of paper on the edge of my desk.

"I need to find a book," she said. "My professor thought I could find it here." I picked the paper up and looked over the words scribbled down on it; the name wasn't familiar…but it was my job to find it. I had a knack, I figured out almost as soon as I started, for finding books that were so obscure that it was almost as if they were hiding in the shelves on purpose.

"I'll see if I can work my magic," I smiled, and after a few seconds, the woman smiled back. I got up and led her through the library, occasionally asking some of the other librarians if they recognized the title of one of the books or where they might be located. Eventually, I had to take her to the card catalog so I could find where this book was hiding.

"So, what kind of class is this for?" I asked as I looked through some of the cards.

"Botany," she replied.

"Really?" I asked in surprise, wondering how someone could be interested in studying plants; when I asked the woman why she had chosen that class, she laughed.

"I've always been interested in the healing properties of herbs and flowers."

"Shouldn't you be studying medicine then?" I asked as I finally found the right card.

"You're very observant," she replied. "How did you end up working here?"

"Well, I don't know, really," I explained. I found the book quickly and led her to the circulation desk so I could check the book out."They needed a librarian, and here I am."

"I wouldn't consider you a librarian. You must be younger than I am." I knelt down and pulled a few sign-out cards from one of the desk drawers as well as a pen. "Do you like it here?"

"I haven't been here long enough to know," I shrugged. "It's nice, but it's…"

"Quiet," we said in unison, laughing immediately afterwards.

"I can only wish for some quiet where I work," she sighed. "It's full of rowdy people and music and…" I looked up at her when she abruptly stopped. There was a spark of mischief in her eye and she leaned over the edge of the desk, lowering her voice significantly. "Have you ever been to a club?"

"I…" I frowned. "I don't understand."

"You know; a club…a blind tiger." When I didn't respond, she sighed and quickly looked around. "A speakeasy." My eyes widened slightly in shock.

"Uh…no, never." Ever since the Prohibition Act had gone into effect, I had heard rumors about clubs that served alcohol: speakeasies. "Why do you ask?"

"No, no, no!" Emily exclaimed, waving her arms around like she was insane. "Absolutely not." I hadn't planned on telling Emily, but it had accidentally slipped out after she asked me about my day.

Gloria—the woman I had helped in the library—had spent almost two hours telling me about the speakeasy she and a few friends ran nearby; I had asked her so many questions in a state of fascination that I was almost sure she was sick of me. She had laughed goodheartedly when I told her of my concern and said that my "aura" was one of the reasons she trusted me enough to tell me of such things—whatever that had meant.

"How good are you at balancing?"

It had been the strangest question I had ever been asked. When Gloria explained about a small incident that made her get rid of some girls who worked in the club, I understood completely.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't." I told her. She insisted that I at least see the club first, and if I was able to pull myself away from the beautiful world that had to be kept secret, she would understand. We had only walked a few blocks before getting to our destination, and only after a few short minutes, I knew I had dug myself into a hole I would never be able to get out of.

Behind the thick, metal doors was—as Gloria had said—a secret world that was unique and perfect; I had never seen anything that made me so…speechless. It was rich velvet curtains and beautiful damask wallpaper; polished wooden bar tops and railings, and elegant bejeweled chandeliers; a golden, illuminated stage and plush red seat cushions. I swore that I could've heard the faint, ghostly wailing of a trumpet echo throughout the room.

At that moment, as my eyes filled with tears of elated enthrallment, Gloria embraced me in a comforting hug and whispered "I know" into my ear. After taking a few seconds to compose myself, I pulled away from her embrace and stared her right in the eye.

"Where do I sign up?"

I had gotten back to the apartment later that night, but early enough that I wouldn't be out after dark—especially not after all the ghost stories Emily told me when I was a little girl that still haunted me to this day—and hid the silky, so-revealing-it's-almost-embarrassing outfits Gloria had given me to try on, in the bottom drawer of my dresser, underneath the neatly folded sheets for my bed.

And the efforts I went to hide my excitement—and my new uniforms—were all in vain because of my big mouth!

"Gloria's the friendliest person I've ever met! Besides," I argued. "You're not mother. You can't tell me what I can or can't do."

"She does have a point," Greg interjected from his place on the sofa, where he was reading the newspaper. This was one of the reasons I loved Greg; he could always see who was right in an argument. This was also one of the reasons I thought my sister would murder him once they were married.

"Excuse me?" Emily turned and looked at Greg. "When did you become part of this argument?"

"I was just trying to help," he said sheepishly. I knew why he was scared; I was scared of Emily when she got angry too.

"Don't defend her, help me get my point across!" Greg sighed in defeat.

"Listen, Robby," he said, tossing his paper aside. "The government banned this sort of thing for a reason. Gangsters, drunks…who knows what kind of people can cause trouble there."

"Because you've never thought about stepping foot inside of a speakeasy," I said, putting my hands on my hips.

"Well…"

"Gregory Holden!" Emily exclaimed in a mixture of shock and anger. "Don't you dare even think about answering her question."

"Em," I sighed, walking over to her and placing my hands on her shoulders. "Gloria promised that she'd keep an eye out for me. It's her place, and she knows everything that goes on; I trust her enough to know that I'll be safe there." We stared into each other's eyes, blue vs. hazel in a silent war to see who would back down first.

"Fine," Emily groaned. "You win."

"I knew you would see it my way Em." I hugged her as tightly as I could.

"But I want to know where this place is so I can come and get you in case of anything," she dealt.

"Definitely."

"And I have to meet this Gloria," she added. "Because I'm not letting my baby sister just run off with strangers."

"Fine."

"And you…"

"Don't worry," I stopped her. "If I don't like what I see at Gloria's, I'll leave and I won't go back ever again." Emily attacked me with a giant hug.

"I just don't want to see anything happen to you," she whispered into my ear. She pulled away from me and smirked. "Mother would tear me to bits and then bury me in the backyard."

A/N: No Klaus yet, but I promise that he'll be in the next chapter. Promise, promise, promise! I want to establish some of Robyn's life before I dive right into the good stuff. Let me know what you think. Reviews are wonderful, reviews are love, reviews make me happy, and a happy author writes faster. As I did before, a review gets you a sneak peek of Chapter 3. Until next time…