Ch.2

Twenty hours or so later, Elena sat halfway across the world in the city of love with her heart bleeding. She had felt utterly and completely humiliated, and somehow had found herself welcoming the chance to escape. How had she not confirmed first that it was Stefan she was professing to and not his brother Damon?

Ugh, she thought, Damon was so cold. So completely devoid of any human emotion and Elena was sure of it. He'd barely ever spoken to her with the exception of a gradual meeting here and there. Although there was that rainy afternoon…but she had been to terrified to even think about speaking to him, and that had been when they were kids.

Now, Damon had an air about him that was almost primal and it spoke of power, and reserve. Something Elena could never quite understand, and never wanted to. Where as Stefan, Elena believed to be, a wonderful person who was kind and generous to everyone he knew.

Elena sighed in frustration simply thinking about how opposite these two brothers could be, and for once was glad to be rid of the confusion.

Now she sat waiting in a rather luxurious office somewhere in the fashion doors of Paris. Mrs. Salvatore had provided for the trip well, and had made her connections with the fashion department of Vogue. Elena had gone to the building to assist in photography and learn all she could, or so her father said. Now three of the top employees were in a room discussing what to do with her. Right now she simply wanted to sink into the chair she was in and never be seen again. Everywhere she looked were beautiful women in perfect ensembles, and there she sat in a frumpy jumper and jean jacket with her hair in an uncontrollable frizzy state. She'd attempted to look presentable and wear lipstick, but her eyes were still hidden by her black-framed glasses that covered most of her face. Elena liked her look this way. It was dull, and drab and completely safe from others glances. She believed if she could look this way she would drift into the shadows and no one would be able to see her. She knew it to be the only way she could stay safe forever.

A few moments later a woman dressed in a black pantsuit with classic pearls, and a white blouse, came out from the glass doors to speak with Elena. She assumed she was the one in charge since she seemed to have the most authority. The group had finished their discussion, and now it was time for Elena to explain herself.

"Welcome to Vogue Elena you speak no French yes?" The woman asked with a crimson smile.

"No." Elena said hastily. She had never learned French, and had hoped it would not be a problem for them.

"No?" The woman said believing her to be confirming that she could speak the language. French was so confusing.

"Yes. I mean no I don't, I'm sorry could you please ask me again?" Elena said clumsily hoping the woman understood.

Before she knew it, Elena was being whisked away by the main woman's, assistant and drug through the back rooms. The woman continued to speak to her in French and she had no idea of what she was saying. The only word that she could make out was "importante" which she knew meant important. Every room held more and more clothes, shoes, accessories than Elena had ever seen. It was remarkable and bewildering all at once.

Two weeks later…

Elena was nervous. It was her very first photo-shoot day, and she felt that everything was going to go wrong. After collecting everything they would need at the office, they made their way to the photo-shoot. Over the last two weeks Elena realized that she was an intern, and her job was to provide everything to the boss's assistant. She would be the go to girl for everything from belts to shoes to shades. It was exciting but confusing all at once. The location they were stationed at was a local fountain within the city. The natural light was exceptional for the photos, and would help to enhance the model's natural beauty while wearing the product. Elena slowly began to realize that the other man along side them was the photographer. He introduced himself as Jean Luke, and he spoke at her in English with a heavy French accent. Arriving at the fountain, he quickly set up with his crew, and Elena did her best to understand what Madame needed from her. Madame was the assistant, and the boss's name she later came to find was Marie. Both of them had set high expectations, and Elena was sure that this was not what she had in mind for a summer in Paris.

The rest of the afternoon soon turned into a completely disaster. Elena had attempted to help provide Madame with a scarf, while another man was yelling at her for the machine. She thought he had meant for her to turn it on, and when she did she soon found it was a fan. The fan blew all the accessories for the shoot to the ground and caused a model to loose her contact lens. Elena then spent thirty minutes looking on the ground for the contact only to accidently step on it. Every crewmember around her sighed when they heard the crunch and Elena's heart sank. She had tried so desperately to do this job right, and now she feared everyone would hate her.

However, her fears were suddenly dashed, when she discovered that Marie was laughing alongside the photographer. She glanced at the scene before her and saw Madame throwing a fit while the other two joked back and forth. Elena, embarrassed, sunk into the shadows, and Marie came up next to her to put an arm through hers.

"Elena, " she said whispering in her ear. "Don't despair about Madame. I tortured her, now she tortures you. Succeed and you'll find someone of your own to torture." She winked at Elena, and sent her home.

Elena was so relieved to find time for herself, and glad she had been provided an apartment of her own to stay in while she was there. It was a modest sized place, full of light and possibilities, and yet empty. Today, Elena found the only thing she wanted to do was to climb under the covers and disappear from the world around her.

She slowly sank into her mattress and heard her phone ring. Instead of getting up, Elena covered herself with the blankets, wrapping herself in warmth and imagining them to be the arms of the one she yearned for. She sighed thinking of Stefan. What would he be doing now? Would he be missing her? Would Damon have told him of their moment in the pool? She blushed as she remembered Damon and his wet masculine form. She shoved the lusty thought away almost immediately knowing she should only be thinking of Stefan.

Elena sighed and glanced across the room. On the far wall hung a bulletin board, empty and waiting for memories to fill it, with only one picture hung front and center. She smiled to herself remembering her first day here. She had gone to her suitcase and pulled out Stefan's senior portrait that she had procured from one of the housemaids. His face was smiling into the camera, and for a moment she had let herself dream that his portrait had come from him. To remember him by. She felt he was truly looking at her through the paper. She had gone across the room taking the picture and had pinned it to the center of the board, her first memento in Paris. Glad to have a familiar face among strangers.

Elena sighed as at the memory and tried to ignore the relentless ringing of the phone beside her. Sitting up she decided to answer it and picked up the receiver. he held in her breath as she said, "Hello?"

"Elena my darling how are you?" came her father's voice.

He was checking in on her she knew, to hear about her lovely adventures in Paris. However all she wanted to do was come home, it had been too long and Stefan was sure to have forgotten all about her.

"I'm sick of Paris. I want to come home. Everyone here thinks I'm a fool." She said, sounding more like a whiny teenager than an adult.

She sighed as she heard her father's disapproval.

"But you've only been there for two weeks. It's hard to believe that every single person in Paris thinks you're a fool."
"That's only because I haven't met them all yet." Elena stated glumly, looking across the room.

"Elena, you're being much too hard on yourself. You have to give this new place a chance. What matters the most is that you're away from here—experiencing new things, getting another view of the world, finding new people, new friends, and not constantly thinking about…you know who!"

"But my life without Stefan is a hopeless abyss of misery and despair."

"That's because you haven't had enough time away. It will pass, just give yourself time to adjust."

Elena sighed into the phone saying, "I'm sure you're right Dad. I'll just adjust and my heart will stop bleeding."

Her clipped tone had left Grayson speechless, and he found he didn't know what words to say to comfort her.

"Dad, I have to go, I'll call you again later." Elena said while gazing into the photograph on her board and wishing it would come to life.

"Alright, I love you darling."

"Love you too. Goodbye." Elena said and hung up the phone.

Meanwhile far away at the Salvatore estate Grayson hung up the phone, and made his way across the grounds to the kitchens for his afternoon tea. He said his hellos to the chef and sat down at the servant's table with his cup. He suddenly felt every servant's eye on him. The florist, the scullery maid, Bonnie, and his good friend Sheila, waited for news of Elena. Sheila had been the head servant to the Salvatore's estate for years. She ran everything from the kitchens to the tennis courts, and kept in close contact with the Salvatore's about their precise wishes.

She was the first to speak. "How is she?"

"She's fine." He said, knowing everyone was listening in.

"She hasn't adjusted completely…"

"She's miserable, I knew it." came Bonnie's reply.

"You shouldn't have sent her." said the florist.

Then Sheila spoke up, "Grayson, maybe it's not my place to tell you this, but when I first came to this country I was lost. I had just had my husband leave me, and a daughter on the way. I was alone, like Elena. I knew no one here, so I picked up and looked for work. I asked God why I was here and cried myself to sleep every night. Grayson, it took me 10 years to stop."

"Well thanks for that Sheila."

"Did she mention Stefan?" asked Bonnie.

Grayson turned to her and stated, "Only that life without him is a 'hopeless abyss of misery and despair.' I believe those where her exact words."

The room collectively sighed as they looked at each other. They knew that Grayson had done the right thing for Elena, but also knew she would be miserable. Grayson had only hoped that Elena's opportunity at being truly happy would not come from the Salvatore's, but from finding herself within the pain. Now only time would tell if he had been right.

*AUTHORS NOTE*

All rights/privileges go to writers/producers of Sabrina/TVD. No copyright infringement is intended.

**I know I have a lot of Delena fans out there going...really? Is she this hung up on Stefan? But honestly just remember who I am...I love DELENA and would not write a story where they don't end up together...so just bare with me. You'll love it!

Happy reading! Be good and REVIEW! :D