"Mama? Can you teach me how to draw like you? Like the kids you teach?" Miranda kneels in front of her daughter. "Of course, sweetie, lets sit in the class, you can draw anything you like."
Elena bites her lower lip, concentrating on the picture she's drawing. Looking over her work, she frowns. The head is too small, the hands too big, the arms too thin. She can see the imperfections but no matter how hard she tries, she can't make her hand capture what she can see in her mind. Her mom stops next to her a few times, pointing out the things to improve, guiding her hand when necessary. After several painful lessons Elena throws away the pencil and sweeps away the pictures. Without bothering to look back, she runs into the garden, climbs over the fence and follows the path to the edge of the forest, dropping cross legged onto the grass in her favorite hiding place. Miranda finds her there an hour later, when she thinks Elena's ready to talk about it.
"What's the matter, baby girl?"
"I can't draw. The pictures are ugly, not like yours. Everyone can draw but I can't." Her eyes are swimming in tears and Miranda would cry herself at her daughter's heartbreak.
She takes her hand. "Do you trust me?" When Elena nods, she gives her hand a gentle squeeze. "Come with me then."
Elena knows her mom can always see things differently, show her another angle and make her feel better. She likes that about her mom. She wants to be like her one day too. Holding hands, Miranda takes her to the studio, it's abandoned on Sunday afternoon, they have it for themselves. Miranda turns on the music, partially opens the curtains to let some sunlight filter in from the outside. With her mother's encouragement, they sit down on the carpet, facing each other.
"Drawing is like when you're dancing. You're very good at dancing, Elena. You express your feelings through an art. You share what you feel with others and give them pleasure. Everyone has their own way to do it. Drawing, dancing, acting, statues, music, there are all kinds of ways to express your unique personality. Some people are good at drawing, some, like you, are good at dancing, other's act or play an instrument. You see, they're all the same. Focus on what you feel and how you want to show it and you can become an artist too."
She helps her daughter stand up, reaches out her hands, lightly supporting Elena's fingertips and guides her into the space. At some point Elena starts feeling the music and her heartache over her inability to draw the picture she imagined disappears. She lets go of her mother's hands and spins around following the rhythm of the song playing. It's sad but incredibly powerful and Elena's body tingles with need to release the restlessness and inner energy. And she does just that. By the end of the afternoon she's exhausted but there's also a strong feeling of satisfaction, one she's never known before.
That day was both sad and empowering for on that day, Elena became an artist. And although her mother's hands no longer guide her, she holds onto them in everything she does.
Tired after his long flight, Damon pays the cab driver and then steps inside the Chateau Marmont in Hollywood. Tucked away in a lush enclave that hovers above the Sunset Strip, Chateau Marmont is a Hollywood legend. Decidedly hip, famously decadent, the hotel has been a fixture of the Hollywood scene since the 1930's. "If you must get in trouble, do it at the Chateau Marmont," said original Columbia Pictures head Harry Cohn, Damon recalls, having stayed at the place one other time when he was on a book tour.
Despite the relatively early hour, he feels a little jet lagged going from the central time zone into the Pacific time zone. Because of his status as an art history expert as well as being a best selling author, the chancellor at Xavier University in New Orleans allows him time off to give an occasional lecture or series of them. Damon is head of the art history department, his work at the school has been fiscally beneficial to the school. Many of their benefactors often cite his work as reason to give endowments to both his department and the school in general.
After checking in, he stops in the hotel bar to get himself a bottle of Maker's Mark. If he's going to see her again, he'll need all the fortification he can get. He took an earlier flight thinking he might be able to stop at the studio and be done with it in one fell swoop but like everything else with Elena, it was not to be. As soon as he got off of the plane, he called Enzo from the airport but the son of a bitch told him that she's unavailable. His first lecture is tomorrow morning so he doesn't honestly know when he'll be able to lay eyes on her again.
Screwing off the cap, Damon takes a long pull directly from the bottle, Enzo's words still burn hot in his belly. "Sorry, bro, you'll just have to stick to the plan."
Damon is sorely tempted to slam the bottle against the fireplace when his frustration level peaks to an almost lethal intensity. He takes one more deep swallow then sets the bottle aside, strips out of his clothes and heads for the bathroom to shower. Maybe once he cleans the sweat and grime off, he'll be able to think more clearly, well until he gets sloshed anyway? He has every intention of opening that bottle again after slipping into his pajama pants.
Frankly, he's quite glad Vanessa didn't come with him. She'll have her hands full covering his lectures while he's in LA. Not only that but she doesn't need to witness what he's certain will be a rather awkward meeting with Elena. They'll have to negotiate a divorce settlement, not that he wants anything from her and he knows without doubt that she won't want anything from him.
Still, it's been three long years since he watched her get on that airplane. At the time, he had no idea that so much time would pass with hardly any correspondence between them. Nostalgia is a bitch, he decides and in a feeble attempt to calm his still raging mind he steps to the window to absorb the atmosphere of the city. At the sight of the hustle and bustle deep below his hotel room he's suddenly overwhelmed by deja vu. It was here, in this very hotel when he first saw her at the reception.
The buzz and crowds are so not his thing but he could hardly avoid it. He promised his publisher as well as the Dean of Xavier University that he would be a good boy and do everything his agent arranged to satisfy the media and those promoting his first book. All of this high toned and fancy to do is happening at an annual writer's convention. Damon is bathing in the spotlight and despite his less than stellar attitude about all of the fanfare, it might just be the best night of his life.
Things, however, don't run as smoothly as he would have liked. Among the hotel guests are members of a film crew celebrating the premiere of a chick flick. At least that's what he supposes given the looks of the people he's run into at the hotel's restaurant and even at the reception. The scientific association booked the room for a private reception but the guests mingle with the film makers and no one seems to care about Damon's increasing consternation.
How can well respected scientists be okay with such an invasion? He decides not to let anyone spoil his evening and pushes his way into the room. The welcoming looks, occasional pats on his shoulder do him good. He's about to join a group of academics he met earlier when he sees her. The most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on. Her olive skin is literally glowing. Her waist length hair shimmers under the lights.
She's wearing a strapless form fitting black dress, matching stiletto heels and if that wasn't enough to attract a second look, the moment their eyes meet, it feels like he's being sucked into a vortex, volatile, gut churning but incredible nonetheless. He doesn't for a moment believe she's an academic but that all leaves his head the moment she smiles at him. Beaming. That's the first word that pops into his mind. Her whole face lights up like a 1000 watt lightbulb. Damon is mesmerized, blown away by sheer magnitude of her presence.
He watches her wave to an older woman and then turns as if looking around for other familiar faces. She looks a little lost and Damon finds himself drawn to her as if something magnetic is pulling him closer and closer.
"Can I be of any help?" he addresses her without actually thinking about it.
If it's at all possible, she turns to him and gives him an even sweeter smile. "I'm not sure, can you?"
Damon can feel the floor slipping out from under his feet but he's powerless to stop it. "My apologies, I'm Damon Salvatore, Dr. Damon Salvatore... a guest at this party."
"I'm Elena... Elena Gilbert," she adds when she sees no recognition. She offers him her hand and for some reason he doesn't just shake it, he touches his lips to the back of her fingers. She doesn't seem to be surprised, but her smile stretches wider. "I'm afraid I'm not a guest here. But some good professors invited us to join the party, they said the boring scientists need to mingle with 'normal' people."
Damon's not sure how he feels about that but her beaming personality and yes, her gorgeous body command his attention. He's a man with eyes and her beauty simply overwhelms everything and everyone else. He suddenly feels a burning desire to impress her. But how does one do that without bragging?
He offers to get her a drink and she follows him, miraculously avoiding other people trying to catch her attention, she listens to his random comments and babbling about the city, the weather, the symposium and soon he finds himself telling her about his studies, research, travels and eventually about the book he just released.
"So, I'm in company of the man of the year now?" he's not that far gone that he's not able to recognize she's genuine. She doesn't make fun of him.
"Bah," he waves it off, "I'm no celebrity, I'm just a fan, you know? There are still so many fascinating things and details in our history that we don't know, it's... exciting to explore them, passing on the knowledge to future generations."
She isn't bored, he's pretty sure and the way she looks at him... she's genuinely interested. She spends most of the evening in his company, although multiple different people from his or her world tried to intrude and he, shockingly, stopped thinking about how this evening, on the most important day of his life, was supposed to be about him.
"Can I see you tomorrow?" The question is out before he realizes he's about to speak when she looks at her watch and says she needs to go.
She looks at him closely and then nods with a twinkle in her eyes. "Of course, Professor. Give me a call when you're free from your duties. I have to do a couple of interviews in the morning but after that, I'm free for the day."
She pulls out a card from her purse and hands it to him. It simply spells Elena Gilbert in calligraphic print and a phone number. After sharing another smile with him, she disappears from his sight. He stares until he hears his name.
"Hello Professor Salvatore. My name is April Young, I'm representing Forbes Magazine. Can I ask you a couple of questions?"
"I don't mean to be rude but I have plans so if you could make them quick."
"What made you decide to write a book on Faberge?"
"I think the man was a genius and extremely gifted. The Eggs he designed for the Russian Imperial Family is what drew me to him in the first place."
"Very good. I read it, it's a fascinating book. And lastly, do you have plans for a follow up, a different subject perhaps?"
"I have some ideas but nothing is concrete," he starts to say when he feels a hand fall on his shoulder. Startling slightly, he relaxes when he sees that it's his childhood friend and personal attorney Alaric Saltzman.
"Well I'll let you go, thank you for your time, Professor Salvatore," April adds, handing him her card before disappearing into the crowd.
"I can't believe you spent the evening with Elena Gilbert!"
"Yes, the party wasn't exactly 'academic' I couldn't focus...Wait, what? You know her?"
Ric laughs heartily. "The whole of America knows her. And a big part of the rest of the world too. She's an actress, one of the most popular in last few years. She looks even better in person, that lady sizzles. I didn't want to intrude but I have to ask, was she nice?"
Damon takes another long pull from his bottle. He shouldn't have come back here, not to this hotel. His mind is already playing tricks, reminding him of that crazy period when he thought building a life with an actress was a good idea.
"I'm not listening!" Elena sing-songs, covering her ears with her palms. "I know he's coming tomorrow, you've mentioned it ad nauseam and yes, I will talk to him no matter how much I don't want to. But I am not discussing it with you now."
Enzo rolls his eyes. "That would be creepy, I'm not discussing it with you either. I just want you to be ready but you should have taken my advice and dealt with him years ago. Damon sounded quite determined, he won't leave without seeing you. Quite frankly, you should be just as determined as he is," he adds, looking at her closely.
"I know that, Enzo. I would just rather forget that whole unfortunate episode of my life. I don't like being reminded of it."
Enzo nods with an unreadable face. "I know. But think of it this way, after you do this, you'll never have to see him again. I don't know about you but that idea is rather appealing to me."
"Yeah, I suppose." Her tone tells him the conversation's over. He's been always perfectly in tune with her different moods and can tell she's done with the subject matter whether he wants to pursue it further or not. If he didn't love her so much... Enzo sighs and gets up. It's been a long day. "Are you coming?"
"Not yet," she gives him a small smile, one he's sure she forced for his benefit.
"Alright then. Don't stay up too long," he kisses her forehead and heads upstairs.
Elena breathes a sigh of relief. She both loves and hates Enzo's perceptiveness. She knows all too well that it's pointless to pretend anything because he always knows and it frustrates her sometimes. There are some things that she'd rather keep to herself, namely her unresolved marriage.
The phone won't stop ringing. Damon slowly comes to his senses and it takes him a few more moments to realize it's not an alarm but an actual phone call. He swallows the content of the glass on his bedside table which happens to be a bit of bourbon and grimaces. When he finally answers it, his voice's a bit raspy.
"Hello?"
"Damon? I didn't wake you did I?"
"Well...," Damon looks at the time and is awake immediately, he's supposed to be at the university in two hours and still needs to shower, shave and have something to eat after tying one on last night. "You did," he tells her truthfully. "But it's a good thing because I overslept."
"I won't keep you then. I just wanted to wish you good luck and tell you the classes are going well... Did you...?"
"Not yet," he pauses, dropping his throbbing forehead into his hand. "Sorry Ness, she wasn't available, I'm already getting used to that line."
"Oh, I'm sorry sweetie, I'm sure everything will work out."
"Thanks, I'm sure it will. Gotta go, I'll call you this evening?"
"Bye Damon."
As soon as he hears the dial tone, he clicks off his phone. He's lucky to have such a sweet and caring girl. Although his head hurts, he hops out of bed and into the shower and quickly runs through his morning routine. After buttoning up his dress shirt, he looks at the ties that she packed for him. Which one should he choose? The black one, wine red or the pastel one with stripes? It's not for the lecture which makes him ask himself why he bothered to bring this one along? He should have asked Vanessa but it's not her that pops into his mind. He knows which one Elena would choose...
It's been a week since they met and it's already their third date. Unfortunately time is not on their side, Damon needs to go back to his university and Elena? Who knows where her next motion picture shoot will take her? Yet despite the obstacles, he can't seem to get enough of her company. She's like a shooting star, bright and burning everything in her path, he can't sleep, he can't eat and worse, he can't focus on his work. He's never felt anything like this before.
"What's so funny?" Damon looks himself over and then steps in front of the full length mirror. Perhaps his collar is creased or something is sticking out of his pants?
"Nothing."
The mischievous glint in her eyes doesn't look like 'nothing'. Damon wishes she'd just say it but she's so adorable he can't be angry with her for being silly.
"Alright, I can see that you're getting a little anxious," Elena's face becomes serious but just a little. "I think it's funny that every time you change your suit, you also change your tie and you always choose black or dark grey. You're too young to dress so conservatively and much too serious."
"Well, miss fashion maven, what color would you choose?"
"The dark one suits you," she considers seriously, "but I'd add a colored tie. Or perhaps a bow tie. Maybe even stripes? Two or three colors, orange, black, white or purple, black, gray. Personally I love pastel pink with gray. You shouldn't dress to look like someone's father," she shrugs, already smiling again. She reaches her hand to adjust his tie, her focus on tying it in a Windsor knot.
Damon catches her hand and their eyes meet. Hers shine like stars and he's sure his are telling as well. He doesn't know which of them makes the first move, finally closing the distance but the kiss is just... mind blowing. It tastes like forbidden fruit and the promise of something more. When they part, her eyes are full of wonder and if he didn't know it before, he knows for sure now that he's a goner.
This must have been the point of no return. He sighs, stuffs his room key in his wallet and then walks out, pulling the door closed behind him.
I wanted to give you a little more of this story before we settle into the weekly update. Thank you so much for your responses to it. Eva and I are so grateful for your kind words, reviews, follows and favorites.
We really work hard day and night to try to bring you new and different stories. I heard a song on the radio going to work New Year's Day. As soon I got home the next morning, I immediately messaged Eva that we had to use it for a story title so now we have to come up with a plot for it. Thank you Eva, you're the best.
Chapter title: 'The Memory Remains' by Metallica.
'Eyes Without A Face' is in progress. It will be the next update.
Have a fantastic weekend and thank you all again.