Chapter 4
Bonnie had decided to stay with the family of a woman Stefan had told her about. She was a tall middle-aged woman who worked at a black high school in Harlem. She had helped Stefan when he was in trouble once, and took in boarders every once in awhile as long as they didn't make trouble.
"Thank you for allowing me to stay with you," Bonnie said. The woman, Mrs. Kelly, smiled warmly.
"No problem, honey, you can stay with us as long as you'd like."
She lived with her husband, John Kelly, and their 10-year-old son Daniel. Bonnie was given a small but comfortable room upstairs. She sat on the bed and looked at the notes Stefan had given her. They detailed Damon's movements for the next few years, his habits, his acquaintances. Stefan had tried to keep an eye on him during that time. What does he want? she wondered. His actions didn't seem to have any purpose other than to inflict pain on others.
Bonnie got a job as a secretary at a small black newspaper so that she could follow the news inconspicuously. It was weird–She had never had a steady job before, aside from working part time in high school and working for the school paper at Whitmore. She wanted to write but she figured that was out of the question, especially with no experience or resume. A week after her arrival, she left the office to follow Damon again.
She walked outside into humid air. It had been raining. New York was so different than it was in the present. It was just as loud and busy but in a different way. All the women wore heels. All the time. It was wearing on her. But she kind of liked how put together everyone looked all the time. The city was bright with advertisements that lit the streets even at night.
Walking through the city, she remembered Damon leaving her in New York, to desiccate beside Elena's body. You don't get to say goodbye, she had said. A pang of sadness hit her but she shook her head, ignoring it.
She smoothed her dress and straightened the matching hat. It was a long, deep green number with a square neckline. She loved the fashion, she couldn't lie.
Turning a corner, she spotted him. He was strolling down the street with a gleam in his eye, damp leather jacket catching the streetlights. As he walked closer, she saw blood dripping down each side of his mouth. His hands were red with blood, too.
She walked towards him and he saw her.
"Why look who it is!" He feigned happy surprise. "Bonnie, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He didn't even try to hide the blood on his face. "You look ravishing," he added.
She was slightly taken aback. Why was he talking to her like this? She figured Stefan was right about the status of Damon's prejudice. He'll go for anything with a heartbeat, she thought. Literally.
"I'm just-" What was she doing? Other than following him? She had to think quickly.
"Fancy a drink?" He interrupted her. She didn't want to think about what he actually meant by that, and tried not to show any signs of fear.
"I guess I have no choice." She knew from Stefan's notes that he was planning to go to the bar a few blocks up the street. There was a man there who he would drain of blood and leave on the floor. Damon later compelled every soul inside.
When she sat down at a table across from him, he smirked. She still couldn't get over the fact that it wasn't really his smirk. It was darker.
"So, I'll ask again. What brings you to the Big Apple?" His face belonged on a movie screen. She shook her head imperceptibly to rid herself of the thought.
"Looking for work, change of scenery."
"I see." He still had blood on his mouth. She was disgusted and in awe at the same time. There was something about this Damon that intrigued her. The lightness in the absence of feelings for Katherine or Elena was refreshing, as though it allowed him to show his true colors. Were these his true colors, though? Was he really this evil? She had to remind herself that his humanity was off. But honestly he was a terrible person either way.
So why was his friendship all she could think about? They had grown close over the past few years, until he had left her all alone. Enzo had comforted her.
Enzo. She should miss him more than this. But somehow it wasn't the same as missing him when he left her at their cabin. It was a whole different world there. Just the two of them. Now that she was away from that place, she didn't miss him the same.
"Hey, I asked you a question. Where are you from?"
She snapped back to reality. Or whatever this was. "Uh...Georgia." She lied. She had family there, anyway.
"Interesting." He stressed each syllable like he was tasting the word. "Well, Bonnie-from-Georgia, I think you know why I asked you here," he continued.
"I won't let you hurt-" she stopped as his eyes flickered towards the door. A man had walked into the bar. He was average height, with wavy brown hair, and he needed a shave. Damon's eyes narrowed and then widened in amusement as he vamp-sped across the room to stand inches from him.
"James."
"Look, Damon. I don't know what happened after you left and it's not my fault. Why can't you just let it go?" He tried to edge his way around him, glancing around uneasily. People were looking around. A woman across from Bonnie lowered her cigarette in anticipation.
"I tend not to let things go. Not really my thing." He sounded more like the Damon she knew. Not that it was comforting. He locked his fingers around James' throat. "Goodbye, old friend." Dark veins snaked around his eyes and his fangs extended. Bonnie closed her eyes as James' screams filled the bar.