Damon took a long and savoring sip of his drink. Closing his eyes so he can properly enjoy his bourbon, Damon's body gave a little shake when the amber liquid slid down his throat. Immediately, his body began to feel warm, expanding from his chest to the rest of his body. His head swam with a slight dizziness as he took his time placing his glass down; the ice cubes clicked together as he placed his drink down on the worn out wooden table.

Staring down at what was left in his drink, Damon grasped his hands together on the table and exhaled steadily. Stefan had told Damon that he could drink alcohol only during social occasions ever since the last show when Damon passed out from overdrinking. Damon didn't want to worry or disappoint his little brother any more than he already had, so he agreed to his terms.

No, Damon wasn't suicidal; Damon did not intentionally drink himself near death's door. He was just depressed on the passing of his wife, Katherine. He doesn't know how to properly grieve, so he welcomed the warm and tight hold alcohol could offer him.

The night of the concert where Damon had to be driven by ambulance to the nearest hospital had marked a month ever since Katherine took her last, painful breath on earth. While the band was on a break from their performance, Damon had no control over himself when he snuck off with an unopened bottle of bourbon. He just found himself pouring shot, after shot, after shot of the hard booze down his throat so that he could wash away the heart-wrenching and empty feelings from the loss of his wife. Alcohol took his mind away from the past and caused his body to feel numb, which he welcomed with open arms.

He never wanted to end up like he did that night ever again. Damon not only caused himself pain, he had scared Stefan shitless from his actions.

Finishing his drink, Damon waved a waiter over and ordered an iced water with no lemon. The waiter took away his empty glass and came back shortly with a tall plastic cup filled with water that was dripping with condensation.

Using his fingers to push the black plastic straw out of the paper that was covering the drinking utensil, Damon wondered how much longer he had to wait until Matt's little friend would hop on stage. He had been texting back-and-forth with one of the hostesses who slipped in her number into one of his pockets when the group had first entered the Grill.

Seems like the hostess just thought that Damon was hot and wanted to have some naughty fun. It was a relief that some of the girls that Damon slept with had no idea that he was in a band; his fans could be a bit clingy at times.

Yes, Damon was aware that he was a whore.

No, he didn't give a shit about how anyone felt about it.

Let's just say, it was another one of his unhealthy healing processes.

It's easy for him to just look for pleasure with a woman for one night and then be done with each other the following morning. Hell, it is even better if they just leave when the deed was done. No attachments are made, just two lonely people having great sex who never have to see one another again.

With one final suggestive text, Damon placed his phone in his leather jacket pocket and smiled to himself. The sooner Elena was done singing, the sooner Damon could play.

"Who were you texting to?" Stefan asked, jutting his chin out to Damon.

"Oh, no one," Damon said offhandedly. "Just another woman who wants to have coitus with yours truly."

Stefan just sent Damon a hard stare. "Do I have to worry about that too?"

"Relax, Stefan! I am using protection." Damon wiggled his brows, knowing it would annoy his brother to no end.

"How about," Alaric, the band's manager interrupted, "we not discuss Damon's sex life." Alaric looked pointedly at the two Salvatore brothers as he reached for the remaining fries in the middle of their table. "Our orders should be here in any moment, and I frankly do not want to lose my appetite."

"Same," Stefan said as he continued to glare at Damon, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Come on, admit it," Damon teased both men, "you're curious as to why the opposite sex is so attracted to me." Damon closed his eyes briefly before he shrugged his shoulders up and flashed a smile at a female waitress who walked by carrying a tray of hot food. Opening his eyes, he purred, "They say it's my eyes." Damon blink multiple times and smiled smugly. "My baby blues is what draws the ladies in."

"Yeah, I bet it also sends you trouble," Alaric jumped in, nudging Damon with his elbow.

"As always, you are correct," Damon nudged back.

"Food's here!" Stefan's eyes brightened up when their waiter walked around the booths with a large black circular tray held up in one of his hands above his head. Steam flew above the plates when the waiter made it to their table and warned the three men that their plates were hot.

Stefan was given a plate with a bacon burger with extra cheese with a side of fries along with two dipping bowls filled with mustard and ketchup. He was also handed a new cup filled with bubbly Coca-Cola. Damon could hear the bubbles fizz from across the table. Stefan placed his black cloth napkin over his lap and rubbed his hands together in hungry anticipation for his meal.

Alaric ordered a mouth-watering filet mignon with an orange and fluffy sweet potato drowning in butter. The band manager stared hungrily at the slab of meat while he gathered his steak knife and fork into his greedy hands.

Damon thanked the waiter when he was delivered his own meal for the night. Damon was going to be dining on grilled chicken marinated in teriyaki with cooked white rice and peas on the side. "This looks great," Damon commented on their food before he grabbed his fork and pierced a piece of chicken. Taking a grateful bite, Damon drowned himself in its delicious and juicy flavors just as the lights in the restaurant blinked off four times, signaling that a live performance was about to begin.

Too lost in his dinner, Damon didn't even notice when Matt sauntered over to their table. Licking off a piece of rice that clung to the corner of his lip, Damon looked up from his plate and nodded his head at Matt.

"Elena is about to perform," Matt said as he held up a tray stocked up with dirty dishes. He looked at Damon and Stefan nervously as he adjusted his hold on the heavy tray. "I hope you guys like her. She's really great."

"I'm sure she will be great, Matt," Stefan assured Matt.

"Yeah?" Matt moved his eager gaze to Damon since it was really up to his decision.

"Sure, Matt," Damon gave Matt a good-natured slap on his butt. Matt jumped and stepped back from Damon, sending the guitarist an uneasy look. "It's not like the other girls who have tried out stood out to me. Your girlfriend could be the winning ticket."

"She's not my girlfriend-"

"Hey, I kind of liked Rena," Stefan cut in on Matt's unbelievable protest. "Rena had some good taste."

Damon grimaced. "Yeah… no." He cleared his throat before he spoke in an overemphasized monotone voice, "She clearly has the emotional range when it comes to her vocals."

Alaric caught himself laughing behind his napkin.

"Plus," Damon continued, "she had the personality of a used-up napkin."

Stefan hid his own laugh behind a cough.

"Anyway," Matt tried to bring the attention back to Elena, "please give her a chance. Trust me when I say that you have never heard anything like her before."

"Alright, Matt, we get that you want your friend in the band!" Damon widened his eyes in annoyance. "Damn, she is all you ever talk about ever since I opened up about the idea! You've become boring and pussy-whipped over her."

Matt's cheeks flushed as he tried to stand up for himself. "I am not-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it already-!"

"Ahem."

Damon turned his head up to the stage. His frowned lips parted when his eyes took in the image of the woman on stage who was hiding in the shadows. He could see her figure behind the microphone stand where a little slab of light shined down from the ceiling. Behind her, Damon could see an electric keyboard set up and ready to be played.

"There she is, fellows," Matt brightened up. "I'll be right back," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "I have to send these off to the kitchen."

Damon didn't hear Matt; he was too focused on Elena who was on top of the wooden stage. She tapped the microphone with her fingers before the light shifted onto her. He felt frozen to his seat as his eyes roamed her body, starting from her heels and up to her soft heart-shaped face.

Elena was wearing white pumps with tassels tied around the ankles. She had on short black overalls that reached down to the middle of her thighs. Underneath the dungarees, Elena wore a short-sleeved shirt that was divided vertically with one side a pastel orange and the other pastel yellow. Her hair was curled into long waves over her shoulders and down her back.

"How are we feeling tonight?" Elena asked the customers inside of the restaurant.

There were a couple of cheers, but most people raised their glasses to Elena. A small crowd was forming by the stage. Damon wanted to move closer, he wanted to walk up to the stage and be a part of the crowd filled with young listeners, but he had to stay in place as a fellow diner. He didn't want to bring attention to himself in case there were any of the band's die-hard fans in the building, and he didn't want Elena to see him. It was best for Damon to stay hidden in case the poor girl has a bad case of stage-fright when she sees him below the stage.

"Welcome to The Grill. You all know me as Millie Marshmallow, and I hope you are all having a good time tonight!"

Now it was Damon's turn to hide his laughter. He coughed behind a closed fist, hunching over the table. Alaric kicked his shin hard under the table, and Stefan clapped him rather hard on the back. "You choking?" Stefan asked loudly. "You need to really be careful with your food, brother."

"Her stage…stage name is…Millie fucking Marshmallow!" Damon choked out in his laughs. He shoved his brother off of him, sure that he would have a giant red handprint on his back. "You don't have to hit so hard," he glared at his brother.

Looking back up at the stage, Damon watched as Elena clicked some keys on the keyboard, and a beat began to play. It was the sound of snapping fingers. "Any requests?" Elena asked. She pointed to somebody on the floor. Bending down so she could hear, Elena's face lightened up in recognition. "I can play that for you!" She walked her way back to the keyboard. She was bobbing her head up and down until she pressed some more buttons that turned into a steady rhythm.

"This one is called, 'Cat Food'." Elena winked down at the group of people by the stage as she yanked the mike from it's stand.

Listening to some low beeps beeping a tune along with a couple of notes from a bass, Damon sat back in his chair and paid attention to Elena's song:

There was a gunshot (sound of a gun going off)

Nobody seemed to hear it

The dishes are brea-king (sound of glass breaking)

And the cat has gone loose

My love's with me in the kitchen

And he is making french toast

He gives me powder sugar kisses

And the cat has gone loose (cat meows)

The music grows louder with the addition of more instruments as the chorus begins.

Everything is a mess

I am not wearing that dress

The cat has gone insane

With the lack of cat food

Damon found himself nodding along to the upbeat music. Elena was stomping around on stage, kicking her legs up in the air while engaging with the crowd below her.

There was hair hanging over Elena's face as she brought the mike back up to her lips and sang the next verse:

There was a little dot

Nobody seemed to like it

The girls and boys are shrie-king (girl and boy screams)

And the cat has gone loose.

My love is no longer here

And he is scared of me

He screams that I'm a bitch (BITCH)

And the cat has gone loose.

Damon continued to watch Elena perform three more songs. He was engaged in her transpiring and unique lyrics that made absolutely no sense to him. The words that Elena sang were written by her own hand and spun up from her own mind with her wild imagination. Elena wasn't just singing songs like Damon heard on the radio – no – she was telling a story with every single lyric.

"Damon, aren't you going to eat?" Stefan asked, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

"Yeah, you only had a couple of bites," Alaric commented. "Your food is going to get cold."

"Shut up," Damon said. "I am trying to listen to her sing."

"You can eat and listen at the same time," Alaric rolled his eyes. "It's not like you are going to miss anything. You weren't this attentive to the other girls."

"Then I will put it in a box and eat it later," Damon didn't want to talk anymore. Elena was performing her last song for the night, and Damon wanted to make sure he could properly experience the whole thing. "Just get the waiter's attention and get the check."

Elena had spun out a new beat from her keyboard. The emotive keys of a piano began to play. Prerecorded sounds of Elena murmuring, "Oooooooh," made Damon's spine shiver. Then a single hit of the drum followed before Elena lowered her eyes and began to tell her final story through song:

I thought I knew you

Oh, how I was wrong

When your colors came through

You lied all along

Your love was a lie

It bled like poisoned water

So I bought some hair dye

And became a different daughter

I am so tired

So very, very tired

I am so tired

Of all of the fabrications

I am so tired

So very, very tired

I am so tired

Of all of the fabrications

A/N: FYI, I wrote those songs myself. I hope they came out good; I listened to Billie Eilish while I came up with them. I really would love to read some reviews from you guys, please don't be shy!