"I don't understand." Elena sat at her vanity, pulling a brush through her long, straight brown hair. "What does Damon get out of this?"

Jenna sat in the rocking chair that had rested in the corner of Elena's bedroom for as long as she could remember. It was the next day, and Jenna was the only person Elena had spoken to about the marriage since yesterday morning's awkward family breakfast. She wanted to tell her friends, but how? Caroline was going to USC in the fall, and Elena just knew that she would want to spend the entire summer gossiping about college boys and dorm room color schemes. How could Elena explain to her that she was no longer a contender for casual hook ups and keg parties, because she was going to become someone's WIFE? Bonnie, for her part, would be spending the summer at a law firm in the city, interning to prepare for her business classes at NYU. She'd gotten a scholarship that she'd worked incredibly hard for. And here Elena was, attaching herself to her wealthy neighbor who she barely knew. How would that look to Bonnie?

It was their last summer together. Elena knew that it would probably the last summer they would ever be close friends, with Caroline and Bonnie both moving in separate directions across the country. It was supposed to be when they bonded the most over the excitement that their futures held. But right now, Elena's future was uncertain to say the least. Would she still be able to live with her family? Would she still go to community college? How would her marriage to Damon change things?

Jenna cleared her throat from the rocking chair, puling Elena out of her reverie.

"Damon? I don't think he gets anything out of this. His parents, though, that's a different story."

Elena frowned. "I don't understand."

"You know that the Salvatore's were close with your parents. Of course they see you as an extension of that. Especially after your parents passed. I think they'd always felt sort of . . . responsible for you and Jeremy."

Memories popped into Elena's mind at these words. Home cooked meals left on the table in the weeks after her parent's funeral. Packages of new clothes on her doorstep, smelling of expensive perfume and price tags she didn't dare to look at. The rented town car that her driven her to and from school before Jenna and Alaric had moved in. She supposed she had always known who had been picking up the tab on those things. It was just strange to picture the distant, unfamiliar Salvatore's taking care of her in such a way.

"I think know that giving you their son is the best way they can help you. Lifelong support. Of course they could lend you money, but loans have hang-ups. A marriage, well, that's rock solid."

"So Damon doesn't even want to marry me. He's being forced into this as well." Elena felt dejected. She didn't know what she'd expected. "The happy couple indeed."

"Maybe you'll be good for him." Jenna murmured.

"Damon's twenty though, isn't he? How can his parents force him to do this?"

"Well," Jenna lowered her voice, as if someone in the room was eavesdropping on them. "He's always been a bit of a partier, as I'm sure you know. I guess he didn't care enough to work very hard in high school, and now he has a share in his fathers company, where he works. But I think the Salvatore's threatened to take that away from him if he wouldn't marry you. He'd have to start all over, with no help at all."

"Like a normal person," Elena sneered. "Poor rich baby, having to try to find work without mommy and daddies help!"

"Elena," Jenna crossed the room and placed her hands on her nieces' shoulders, comfortingly sweeping the hair away from Elena's face. "Please just promise me you'll stay positive. Damon can open doors for you and Jeremy that Alaric and I can't even dream of."

Elena sighed. "I promise."

"And promise me you'll email weekly. Which reminds me, we should probably start packing. I know you don't have that many clothes, so it shouldn't take too long . . ."

"Wait, WHAT?" Elena whirled around. "Packing?"

Jenna covered her face with her hands. "Shit. I'm so sorry Elena; I've been such a basket case. I forgot to tell you."

"Forgot to tell me what?" Elena's eyes narrowed.

"Damon wants you to live with him in New York. He has an apartment there, because his fathers company has a branch in the city."

"I'm moving?!" Elena could feel the blood pumping in her head. Not only was she getting married, now she was leaving Mystic Falls, where she'd practically lived her entire life? Leaving Jeremy, Jenna, and Alaric? Leaving her best friends, three months earlier than she thought she'd have to?

"I thought you'd be excited. You didn't really want to spend the whole summer here, did you? And you've always wanted to go to New York . . . " Jenna's voice trailed off hopefully. She was right, in a way. Elena hadn't really been looking forward to spending the summer, not to mention the next four years, living at home and going to community college. Especially since the rest of her friends were headed off to new and exciting places. And she had always wanted to visit New York City. But not under these circumstances.

"I can't believe this." She muttered, getting up and starting to pace the room.

"Remember what I told you. Be positive. Think of the opportunities." Jenna reminded her.

Right. Jeremy. The opportunities. Positive.

Elena took a deep breath. It was time to accept what she couldn't change. She remembered Jeremy's face at breakfast. His hardened features and dark eyes. He had grown up too fast. Now, maybe, it was time for Elena to start doing some growing up of her own.

"I guess we should start packing then."

ONE DAY LATER

"Right this way, miss." The steward ushered Elena down the long aisle, gesturing to an empty plane seat by the window. First class. Elena had only been on a plane once before, right after her parents died. She and Jeremy had flown to Wisconsin to visit their grandparents. The flight, and their crummy coach seats, had been numbed by grief. But now, two years later, she was back on a plane, and everything was crystal clear.

The fact that she was on her own for the first time in her life. The memory of her tearful goodbye to Jeremy, Alaric, and Jenna. The long voice mail she had left Caroline and Bonnie, explaining what was happening. She didn't have the heart to tell them in person. She didn't want to look at their faces with the knowledge that it was probably the last time they would ever see each other. Of course, the girls had planned to visit each other in college. But that was before. Elena had no idea what her new life with Damon would be like.

Elena settled into the creamy leather of the first class seat. The rich material felt strange around her shoulders. As the stewardess came by and offered her champagne, she wondered if this was what life would be like for her from now on, as the wife of a rich man.

"Flight 506 from Virginia to New York, prepare for take off."

Elena shut her eyes as the plane sped up and hurdled off the runway. When she opened them, the view from her window showed only a hazy sea of clouds. Already, Mystic Falls was far behind her, out of view.

The flight passed quickly, perhaps because Elena was so nervous that she couldn't concentrate on anything but the butterflies in her stomach. Before, all she had been thinking about was leaving her family and friends. But now that they were gone, the full effect of the situation set in, and only one question was on her mind. Who WAS Damon Salvatore? She had only one real memory of him, and it was the one thing that gave her comfort. That day in the woods, after her parents had died. The hug he had given her. The way she had felt safe.

She could only hope that that was the Damon who was waiting for her at the airport.

By the time the plane landed at JFK International, it was already dark out. Elena stepped into the crowded terminal, dragging the single suitcase that she had been able to fit her clothing, laptop, and a few other precious relics of her past life into. There were so many people running around, children crying, people laughing, friends reuniting, couples arguing. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Elena wondered how she would ever find Damon in this crowd.

Then, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

She turned to see a young man with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a dress shirt and pants, both of which were clearly very expensive.

"Ms. Gilbert?"

Elena blinked. She didn't know who this man was, but her certainly wasn't Damon. "Yes?"

"I'm Mr. Salvatore's chauffeur. I'm here to pick you up and bring you to his residence. The car is waiting just outside, miss." He reached to take her luggage.

"You're Damon's . . . Chauffeur?" A beat passed, then Elena was filled with rage. She had been so silly to think that Damon would be waiting for her with open arms, like that day in the words. Of course he wouldn't be. He was filthy rich. He was so spoiled and uncaring that he couldn't even be bothered to come pick her up from the airport himself. He would send someone else, one of his people, to do the dirty work.

"I suppose it would be too much work for poor Damon to come pick up his future wife from the airport himself then." Elena seethed.

The young man looked taken aback. "Um, he is, um, very busy miss. If you'd just let me take your luggage . . . "

"I can carry my own luggage! Unlike Damon, I'm capable of doing things myself." Elena hissed. Suddenly, she failed to see any positive at all in this forced marriage. Why should she have to waste her life married to a spoiled, uppity, disrespectful bastard like Damon?

It was apparent that she didn't have a choice.

The chauffeur, who introduced himself as Freddy, led her through the airport to a sleek black car outside that undoubtedly cost more than Elena's entire house back in Mystic Falls. Elena sat in the back, gazing up at the darkening city skyline. The soft leather, again, felt strange against her skin. In her simple denim shorts, inexpensive sandals, and plain tee shirt, she felt completely out of place, racing through the city in a glamorous black car. Back at home, Elena had driven her old blue Honda, and the wheels had made a grinding sound she despised whenever she drove down a street that wasn't completely smooth. Now, in this fast, completely silent car, she wanted more than anything to hear that familiar sound.

The apartment building they pulled up to was all light up with the surrounding city lights. Elena stared up at the huge, modern building, realizing it was her new home. The shiny wall of windows adorning the front side of the complex was as impersonal and unfamiliar as the car she had travelled in.

"The Plaza. Right in the center of Manhattan." Freddy announced from the front seat, as if Elena was supposed to be impressed with this information. "You can go right in, miss. I'm going to take the car around to the garage and I'll get your luggage to an attendant. Just tell them you're Mr. Salvatore's wife and they'll send you right up."

Mr. Salvatore's wife.

The doorman nodded at Elena as she walked through the heavy glass doorway of The Plaza. The lobby was large and adorned with white marble, reflections of the outside streetlights bouncing off every flat, shiny surface. The room felt too big, and Elena found herself wishing for her old kitchen in Mystic Falls, with its scrubbed breakfast table and familiar family photos.

She walked up to the large white marble counter.

"I'm, uh, Mr. Salvatore's wife. Elena Gilbert."

The sharp, efficient woman at the counter gave her a quick onceover, and then slid a key card across the smooth surface.

"Welcome, Ms. Gilbert."

Elena was getting sick of being called by such a formal name. It didn't fit her, and she knew it.

"Call me Elena," She said hurriedly. The woman looked surprised, and Elena sighed. She was embarrassing herself in this rich society already. She would never feel like she fit in here. "Thank you for you help." She mumbled, turning towards the shiny golden elevators at the far corner of the lobby.

Her key card read PENTHOUSE SUITE. Elena rolled her eyes. Typical. At least there would be a lot of space between her and Damon.

The elevator whirred silently to the top of the building, and Elena got off on a quiet, golden hallway. There were only a few doorways up here, and she quickly matched the number on her key card to one of the golden doors. Elena slipped the key card into the slot on the doorknob and tried to open it. The knob wouldn't budge. She tried again. Still nothing. Again. Nothing.

"What the hell?!" The day's frustrations came crashing down on her again, and she angrily kicked at the door.

"You're, uh, doing it wrong." Elena turned to see a blonde girl about her age, carrying a designer purse and a key card of her own. "You have to turn the card the other way." The girl demonstrated with her own card.

"Oh." Elena felt ridiculously stupid. She slid her card in the correct way, and finally, the door opened. She stepped into Damon's apartment. She just knew that the blonde girl was probably laughing at her right now, wondering what the hell a clueless small town girl was doing in The Plaza.

The door clicked shut behind Elena, and the first thing she saw was an incredible view of the city. Damon's apartment had one entire wall that was a window. Elena hit the light switch that was next to the door, and the rest of the space came to life. A massive marble countered kitchen. A sitting area with a TV bigger than Elena's closet back home. A fancy dining table. A bookcase, stocked with books and newspapers. She followed the light to find another door that led into another room with a view of the city. This one was apparently an office, with a huge glass desk covered with stacks of paper. Another door lead into a bigger room, with a huge bed in the center. Damon's bedroom, Elena realized. She regarded the unmade bed and piles of fancy dress shirts strewn carelessly across the floor, feeling as if she was intruding upon something she shouldn't have access to.

The dresser in Damon's bedroom was piled with random odds and ends. Elena ran her hand along a display of watches, all Rolexes. She gasped as she realized what each of them must cost. She could just grab a few of these and go back to Mystic Falls with enough money to put both her and Jeremy through college. Would Damon even notice? Would he even care? He'd probably be happy she was out of his hair and he was free to live in this massive apartment alone, buying ridiculous amounts of expensive luxuries and sleeping with a different girl like the blonde from the hallway each night.

Elena was so tempted. But that wasn't the deal.

She moved towards the closet, opened up the sliding doors. Rows and rows of different colored dress shirts and stacks of ties made her jaw drop. This wardrobe probably cost more than her entire families' combined.

She reached out to run a hand along the soft fabric of one of the shirts. It felt like a caress from a hundred dollar bill.

"Snooping through my things?"

Elena jumped a foot in the air at the sound of the sudden, vaguely familiar voice. Her heart was pounding as she turned around slowly.

Damon Salvatore, her husband to be, stood in the doorway.