A/N: Welcome back! Please, please, please read:
This has been one of the craziest years. My husband's band is taking off, so I barely get any time in with him. My little boy turned one (which I still cannot believe!). And in the midst of all this great chaos, I regrettedly forgot about all of my beautiful readers. Then I saw this: "This story has become a depressing pile of doodoo".
Honestly, I took no offense. As a matter of fact, it made me chuckle. I've had time to read fanfics, (I've recently become obsessed with Once Upon A Time which I hear is a common occurrence for fellow TVD-lovers), and have found that the stories in these two genres, Romance and Family, follow common cliches, which, quite frankly, bored me. To death. I want to be different. You guys want different, yes?
I want to shed light on the points that FF authors are timid to write about. Severe depression, losing a child you never met, genuine heartbreak, but also, overcoming these obstacles to find that maybe that small link that is now broken, was not what was actually linking these two together.
Read on…
One small step. A baby- No, no mention of anything baby related. Keep your eyes on the sidewalk in front you, breathe in, breathe out, smile when they look over.
Rock the Ballet:
Chapter 21: This is My Life
When the idea of getting fresh air was mentioned as the small group of three sat cross-legged on the rug in their small apartment, aimlessly watching Disney shows, Elena was hesitant. She had not received a call from work, she assumed that one of the two girls sat opposite of her had informed them of her delicate situation, nor a call from any of the guys. The last she had heard of Damon was when Caroline had arrived home, bloodshot eyes and makeup streaming down her cheeks, and told her that "he didn't take the news well." No phone calls. No visits. No emails. No letters. Not even a text.
So she spent the past two weeks cooped up inside their apartment, wandering from room to room, occasionally sleeping although it was a rare occurrence. And suddenly, the idea of facing the world, facing reality felt like a slap to the face. She hadn't budged at first, but finally relented after Bonnie's threat that she would stop baking her famous cookies. So she slipped on her casual clothing, jeans and a light sweater, and then they left.
The cold rush of air seeped through the light material, seeping into her skin and to the bloodstream where it surged throughout her entire body. For a split second, as she took Caroline's hand, she could feel a small chip fall off the emptiness which consumed her entire being.
The bare trees of Central Park swayed in the breeze, dancing to their silent song. She watched in awe as the beauty of the city swept her in.
Walking down Broadway, Bonnie spotted a fellow dancer up a little and bounced off to say hello. Caroline scooted closer as they continued on, gripping her hand a smidge tighter.
She lowered her voice as so only her friend could hear, "How are you?"
Elena lowered her gaze as they stepped off to a less congested street. They stopped in front of a small boutique, "I'm feeling a lot better, not really that sick any more."
Caroline scrunched her eyebrows together, "No, how are you?"
Her bottom lip began to tremble, her mind immediately drawing back to those dark days. "I'm not okay, Care," Her voice broke, leading the blonde to wrap her in a hug, "I need him. Why doesn't he realize that?"
The blonde shook her head, staying in the embrace, "I don't know, I really don't know," She pulled away, "Guys can be assholes, ya know?" Her hand came up to wipe the stray tears away from her cheek.
Elena laughed before realization dawned upon her. "Care, I'm so sorry," Confusion plastered to Caroline's face, "You've been worrying over me when you haven't had the time to grieve over your relationship."
Her entire demeanor darkened, lips set into a frown. Markus had been relentless in his attempts to contact her within the past few days; flowers had shown up on their doorstep which she passed off as being for Elena, countless ignored calls and text messages. She needed to be there for her friend, not trying to get back with her ex. "Don't you dare. You have no reason to be sorry. You had something tragic happen, I had some stupid fling that led to both, well, no, led to me being hurt," She gestured for them to continue walking.
They took each other's hands once more, only stopping when Bonnie called out for them to wait up. Caroline smirked, "What's that old saying? Once a cheater, always a cheater."
And for the first time since, the girls shared a genuine laugh.
"This is stupid."
Raven hair popped up from behind an amplifier, eyebrows raised, "Shut up, Markus. Stop being a buzzkill." He smirked, yet his eyes not reflecting the cockiness within his tone, before disappearing once more.
Markus leaned against the wall, "Shouldn't you be the buzzkill? Losing a kid does that to most people."
Damon jumped up, striding dangerously close to him. Markus could practically feel his breath upon his face. He shoved a finger into his chest, "Well I'm not like most people."
A voice brought the two's gazes to the bar where a tipsy Anthony was drinking vodka straight from the bottle, "I'll drin' ta tha!" Damon chuckled darkly and turned on his heel towards the exit.
The large metal door slammed into the face of the unsuspecting Markus, who had been following him. In utter rage, he kicked the door open, knocking Damon over in the process. He growled, jumping up from the ground.
Both men, equally raging and with good reasons, straightened their backs and bared their teeth. Seething, Damon lunged forwards and pushed Markus against the brick alley wall, causing the collection of homeless men and druggies to scatter.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He screamed, spit flying from his mouth as he practically foamed with anger.
Markus broke free and pushed back with the surge of might coursing through him, "You're not fucking tough! Don't make your problems mine!" He emphasized the last sentence with a rough shove.
"Oh, what? You can complain about losing your bitch, but when it comes to me, I can't say shit?!"
Suddenly a fist collided with his jaw and he was sent flying to the ground. He looked up in time to see the other fist land on his left eye as he screamed, "Don't call her that!" Another punch. "I don't ever, ever, want to hear her name from your lips!"
He drew his fist back for another round, his eyes radiating with fury. Damon shut his eyes, his entire body flinching in preparation for the blow. Time ticked on, and the sound of a glass bottle shattering caused him to snap his eyes open.
Markus lay on the ground beside him, head slightly bleeding. His hair was sprinkled with tiny shards of glass as was the ground. Armand slumped against the wall, barely able to stand. His breath was heavy as he stared blankly ahead of him.
Damon sat up, wincing as a sudden and sharp throbbing pain filled his entire head. When it began to subside, he glanced towards his conscious bandmate, "Hey, you okay?"
Armand snapped out of his daze and smirked, "'m fine, man. All good," You narrowed his eyes, "Ya don't look so good."
He frowned, crawling over towards him and taking the same position against the wall. "Nah, it's not the outside that's hurt."
Armand slumped further down, his chin resting against his chest, "Dat is deep...deep." And he too, lost consciousness against the cold, unfeeling ground.
"What can you do with this?" The cell phone was handed over delicately. After all, this was the one connection he had.
A pair of observing eyes carefully examined the phone, going through various applications and settings. "Depends on what you need it for." His eyebrows shot up, his finger pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
With a slight smirk playing on his lips, the voice replied, "I'm going to ruin someone's life," He stepped forwards, pushing the wad of cash across the table, "For good."
The man nodded briskly before shoving the cash and phone into his pocket. He quickly checked his surroundings to ensure security and then, became another shadow in the night.
Caroline needed a break. Being the worrisome friend, twenty-four hours, seven days a week for two weeks straight is goddamn exhausting.
From the moment Elena miscarried, every single problem she was harboring was put on the backburner. Her family, Tyler, Markus, all pushed aside so she could be there for her grieving friend. And it seemed that they would stay like that, until about two days before she received a voicemail from Markus.
"I take full responsibility of the fact that I was unfaithful to you. And for hurting you, I am sorry. I'm so sorry. Words cannot describe how much I hate myself for hurting you. You deserve so much more, Caroline…" There were three full seconds of silence; she knows because she counted each one with bated breath, "I love you."
Her heart stops each time she recalls those words. He loves her. After everything they've been through, after all the horrible, despicable words she called him, after all the fights and the tears, he still loves her.
But she stopped loving him.
She had heard of the opening of this Italian restaurant, she thinks the name is Mare, somewhere in Little Italy a while back.. Decidedly in the mood for some rich, homemade Italian fettuccine alfredo, she left a note for a sleeping Elena and a shopping Bonnie, that she was going out on the town for some dinner, and not to worry if she comes home late.
The drive in the taxi there was a mess. About halfway through, they hit a rush of traffic. She grumbled, rummaged around in her purse as she asked the driver what the total was, threw some cash into the poor man's lap and exited the taxi in her yellow stilettos.
"Thank you!" She called back to the driver, who was smiling giddily as he counted the generous tip.
The walk to Little Italy was gruesome, what with the tourists snapping shots here and there, the countless Elmos wanting to grab her butt (she shot each one following the first a dirty glare), and the rude, new money New Yorkers. She rolled her eyes as one after the other of men on their cellphones cut her off.
She would scoff, catching their attention before they would roll their eyes and continue on. At least one was decent enough to apologize. He must not have been born and raised here.
But even in the midst of the chaos surrounding her, she couldn't help but still be amazed by the beauty of the city. Its shining lights, bright billboards hundreds of feet into the air, the skyscrapers looming above, people on bicycles buzzing by.
She had left her phone on vibrate, not wanting any disturbances, unless of course it's an emergency. She had made it to Mare around 8:20, being able to snag a table before they were fully booked. The waiter was extremely friendly, smiling at the right times, asking polite questions. The only problem she had was the fact that he had left the other empty plate sat opposite her.
The sight was terribly depressing. He could be sitting there right now, enjoying this evening with me.
She felt like smacking herself. He's nothing but a jerk. Nothing more. Nothing.
"Where is she?"
Bonnie, shifting feet, glared at the elegant dresses before her, "I don't know," She pursed her lips, "What does it matter you, anyways?"
There was a very audible sigh on the other end, "I just want to talk to her, is that so much to ask?"
She exhaled a large breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I tried calling her earlier, but she didn't answer. Try calling Elena's other cell phone, she might know something. You have her new number, right?"
He smiled, "No, I don't. She get a new phone?"
"No, she lost it. I'll text you the contact. Bye." She ended the call without waiting for a reply.
A sudden pit formed in her stomach, telling her that something just isn't right as she texted him the number.
Jeremy's ear perked up as he woke from his light sleep, hearing a quiet tone. Whoa, kay, what?
Shaking the sleep off, he stumbled to his feet off the couch and headed towards the noise. Following it, he was led to the cabinet in the kitchen.
No wonder she lost her other one.
Retrieving the item, he unlocked the screen and answered the unknown number, "Hello?"
Taken aback, the voice on the other end tripped over their words, "Er, eh, Elena? Don't take this the wrong way, but you sound like a dude."
Jeremy laughed, "Ahah, nah, this is her brother. Can I take a message?"
He sighed, "No, actually, can you do me a favor, bro?"
"Yup."
"Do you know where Caroline is?"
He racked his brain before remembering the note on the counter. Walking over to it, he read it aloud, "Heading out to dinner at Mare. Be back late. Don't worry."
"You're my savior. Thanks."
"No problemo."
"What's a lovely young lady doing having dinner alone?" A voice asked from behind.
She swallowed her wine before turning to see an elderly man in a tux, his wife on his arm. She placed a smile on her face, "Just wanted some alone time."
His wife, dressed in a mid-length flowery dress and adorned with a pink hat, smiled and patted her husband's arm, "Would like us to join you, dear?"
Her smile became genuine. Her heart melted at the sight of the beautiful couple. "I wouldn't want to intrude on your evening, but thank you for such a kind offer." They both smiled back, nodded and turned to head to their table.
Caroline put her chin in the palm of her hand, dreaming of herself at that age with her, hopefully, future husband by her side. At this age, the age that she had planned to be settled down by, she couldn't see a future like that. It looked cloudy from here on out.
"What's a beautiful girl like you doing here by yourself?"
She once again plastered a fake smile to her face before turning to see the face behind the voice.
Her jaw dropped. "Anthony?"
She can't remember the last time she had ice cream, but she's guessing that it's been close to a year. Ballet messed up her regular diet of soda and pizza, and now that she hasn't been even ten feet of the theater, she can go back to her old ways of eating unhealthy foods.
Mario's Ice Cream Parlor was quite a walk, but she had managed to convince Jeremy to let her go out on her own tonight.
A quiet walk was all she needed. A walk and some ice cream to soothe the soul. And maybe a pretzel on the way back since it was right next door. No, just ice cream.
Once she had her three scoops of mint chocolate chip atop a waffle cone, she was set. Making her way over to the benches, she sat and quietly observed the ongoing human life around her.
Mothers scolding their rowdy children, businessmen on their phones chatting away potential clients, a woman on the bench next to her taking advantage of the hotspot with her laptop, a black van pulling up. Life.
"You don't understand, when I get a hangover, I have the need for some pretzel and weed," Armand laughs, stumbling out of the truck as Damon takes the keys out of the ignition and exits, "Heh, see what I did there."
Damon playfully shoves him, and he stumbles into the parking meter, "Keep it down. Po are crawling around here."
As if struck with sudden fear, Armand immediately straightened and his eyes bugged out as his eyes scanned the area for any suspicious people. "Shut up. You lie."
Damon started walking towards the small pretzel shop. Barely anyone knew about this little gem that they had stumbled upon a few years back, and he hoped it stayed that way. Less people would have to see a hungover Armand stumbling around the shop, asking for the strangest combinations of pretzels.
Armand, blinded by a sudden throbbing headache, started walking the complete wrong way, towards the neighboring ice cream parlor. "Whoa, where are you going?" He raced after him, stopping him just in time from walking into a bench, but not quite fast enough to stop his hand from almost knocking a laptop from a woman's lap.
"Watch where you're going, jerk!" She hissed, angrily shutting her laptop and storming away. Damon sighed as Armand decided that he was now tired and needed to sit.
She stayed completely frozen, allowing her hair to fall into her face. This is not how I wanted to talk to him!
She watched out of the corner of her eye as he talked his bandmate into going to the pretzel shop. When they had finally entered, and she had made sure the door was closed, she bolted back to the apartment, not caring how many people she knocked into.
What a crappy situation that would have been if he had realized who she was. He obviously did not want to talk to her right now, seeing as how he had not made any contact within the past two weeks.
Once she reached the apartment building, she rested against the cool brick wall, allowing her exhausted mind and body to rest. The doorman kept an eye on her, obviously realizing when a person needed some privacy.
When she was ready, she headed inside, pressed the button to call the elevator, and stepped inside.
Not ready. Not yet. Not yet.
A/N: I wish I could write more. I want to, so badly. I want to give you all the chapters right now, but I cannot physically write anymore. I'm exhausted, and I wanted to update this before the day ended.
Obviously, you can see some difference in the story. I focused a little too heavily on Caroline/OC and I apologize. I started out this story with the intention of keeping it fully Delena, but it's difficult when you have such strong supporting characters.
I have changed the overall pairing, which you may or may not have noticed. I now am including Caroline/OC as one of the main pairings, but not the complete focus of the story. I am debating as to whether or not to change the genres, but I have a little something-something up my sleeve. ;)
I love you all for sticking with me, and deeply apologize for the wacky, untimely updates.