AN: ...Folks, those were Some Migraines, I gotta tell you. I hope you all are doing well and my sympathies to anyone else who has ever experienced a migraine in their life! Anyway, this is a soft re-launch. I am sure I have lost many of you along the way, that's okay! What's important is finishing the story... so I can finally write something else. These outtakes might seem like a distraction from the main story but let me assure you: I would not be able to finish without them. They are crucial to my mental well-being in writing this incredibly structured story that makes me want to cry on a regular basis and that will also never, ever be getting a sequel. Anyway, let's go to Mexico!
Addendum: Outtakes
Referenced in Ch. 15
Cancún
Mexico: March 2017
When Alejandro is chosen for the third day in a row as the cabana boy for Elena Gilbert's cabana, the rest of the servers accuse him of bribing their supervisor. Alejandro says nothing, just smiles smugly and goes about his day. He doesn't care what any of them think, he knows they are only jealous, and he knows what they do not; their supervisor did not choose him, Elena herself did.
He makes his way through the beautiful resort, smiling and nodding at the guests, pushing the food cart in front of him and trying to look humble when his fellow hotel workers give him envious glances. They all know where he is going, just as he knows they would kill to be in his position, striding towards her cabana.
He passes the pool, the middle-aged ladies sunning poolside giving him appreciative looks that he hardly notices. At 21, he is tall and handsome, with even white teeth and a charming manner. Before he used to puff like a peacock for these ladies, proud of the effect he had on them, and pleased with the tips they gave him. But since the first time Elena smiled at him, he swears he hasn't seen anyone else.
He has only ever thought of getting out of this place, of making enough money to escape to America and start anew. He's not sure what he'll do when he gets there, maybe be a movie star, girls swooning over his handsome face. Or perhaps a doctor, like his oldest sister. Except in a pristine, hospital like in a telenovela instead of the overcrowded, underfunded, ancient hospital that Leticia works in. He had always known, wherever he went, it would be far from here. Little did he know that this place would bring her to him. He has never loved this place more, knowing that with every step, he moves closer to her.
Smooth pavement gives way to lush grass, then shifting, glittering white sand. He passes many cabanas, full of the elite, some beautiful, some ugly, some young, some old, all richer than he could ever dream of being. The last cabana is by far the rowdiest. It is full of the most beautiful people anyone has ever seen, each more beautiful than the next, and the last is the crowning jewel.
Seated between a curvaceous blonde – who is doing body shots off a pink-haired girl with the bone structure of a renaissance muse on her other side – and a guy not much older than Alejandro – looking like he just stepped out of business school catalogue and who is vainly trying to capture her attention – Elena Gilbert outshines them all. Her loose curls thick with salt, and a tiny, black string bikini hugging her perfect body, she hasn't stopped smiling since she caught sight of him.
Alejandro smiles back at her, helpless under her gaze.
"Good news, everybody, sustenance has arrived," she announces, her beautiful voice carrying above the sound of the music and the laughter.
Everyone lets out a cheer as Alejandro busies himself with refilling the buffet table at the back. The bartender hands him a list of alcohol they're already out of and he doesn't complain, it means he'll have to come back.
"Hi," a familiar voice says from behind him. It's like heaven to him, how her voice softens, sweetens, just for him.
"Hello querida," he says quietly, his words for her alone.
She plucks a strawberry from a plate, popping it into her mouth. Pink juice escapes her lips, her tongue darting out to catch it; everything she does is unbearably sexy. She scrunches her nose at him in delight, noticing how he never takes his eyes off her.
She looks as radiant as ever, if perhaps a little tired. Her stamina has always amazed him. He knows she and her friends are on the beach partying by mid-morning and well into the night. While everyone else is running ragged, getting closer and closer to departing and swearing off the party lifestyle until their next bender, Elena usually looks pristine, angelic, even. That she looks even a little tired today is unusual, and he hopes that all is well.
The Business School Catalog Model she'd been seated next to appears beside her, swinging an arm over her shoulder and flashing him an arrogant grin, missing the subtle way she rolls her eyes at him.
Alejandro hides his own smirk at Elena's hidden dislike of the man beside her as he requests a tequila brand that his buddy raved about.
Alejandro nods dutifully, adding it to the bartender's list with complaint. What does it matter that this man is arrogant? Elena wants nothing to do with him. She has eyes only for Alejandro.
When he finishes speaking, Elena prompts him.
"Tip the man," she says, leaving no room for argument.
He complies instantly, handing over a generous amount, causing everyone else to pull out their own money in spades, overflowing the bartender's jar and Alejandro's own pockets.
The boy is referencing Elena's own pockets, or lack thereof.
"I can spot you this time," he says arrogantly.
Alejandro wants to laugh; Elena is by far the richest guest at the resort on top of being the most beautiful.
She is shaking her head with a beatific smile. "I've got it," she says simply, reaching into her bikini top, she extracts a bill.
"I've got a special request," she says, giving her companion a coquettish look. "A private request." She steps out of his embrace, rising on to her tiptoes – she isn't wearing any shoes, just an anklet with a blue stone, so Alejandro can see the way she goes all the way up onto her big toes, like a dancer – to tuck the bill into his breast pocket.
She presses her cheek to Alejandro's, making him tremble, the scent of her skin is intoxicating. "Meet me at the hot tub – our usual time," she whispers into his ear, and, since no one is looking – she always knows – she kisses his neck, sighing into it like the taste of his skin and thud of his pulse under her mouth is pure heaven.
He holds himself strong. "Of course, señorita," he says, as if she had made an ordinary request and not one that makes his heart sing.
As he leaves to go retrieve the alcohol, he hears the blonde and the pink-haired girl gossiping with a Chinese heiress who is almost as rich as Elena and makes headlines with her excessive spending regularly.
"What do you think she asked him for that she didn't want us to hear?" the heiress asks.
"Probably drugs, everyone knows the cabana boys are the ones to ask," the blonde answers. Everyone knows she is here on the dime of a California Senator who left two hours after their arrival.
"No way," the pink-haired girl denies. "Carter offered her some Molly last night and she told him she hasn't played with dolls since she was 8."
The three girls snicker and Alejandro bites back a snicker of his own. Elena is so clever, and so much purer than the rest of them.
"I bet she's on the rag," the pink-haired girl continues. "Who'd want to ask for tampons in front of Carter? He'd probably flip."
During his break he's in the staff lounge, trying to nap on the worn in couch in the corner, because Elena likes to meet late, and he has the early shift in the morning. The other workers on break are gossiping about guests, specifically Elena and her vast wealth.
"I hear she's some cartel leader's secret wife, he married her when she was 16 so she's completely loyal," Maria, one of the housekeepers says.
"I heard she's his mistress, not wife, and that she 14 when they met, not 16," José, one of the cooks says.
Francisca, the concierge, shakes her head. "No, it's an American politician that she's mistress to – it's always an American politician."
"You're all wrong," Catalina, one of the cocktail waitresses, claims boldly. "She's the heiress to a European fortune." She sounds dreamy as she says it.
"I heard she's a porn star," Miguel, the gardener's assistant says leerily.
"Shut up," Alejandro bursts out, sitting up abruptly. "You don't even know her, none of you." He dismisses them with an angry wave of his hand.
The other staff exchange sly looks.
"What do you know about her that we don't, Alejandro?" José says dismissively. "Her drink order?"
The rest of them burst into laughter, even polite little Catalina giggling daintily.
Alejandro wants to tell them all he knows that Elena was the daughter of a doctor who died when she was a teenager, and it was only after that her rich, elderly uncle discovered her existence and their shared family. That he had given her everything she wanted and sent her to travel the world in the hope that she would eventually find something that would make her happy again.
"Maybe Alejandro is hoping she's into broke ass cabana boys." Miguel sneers.
He wants to tell him that when she told him the story of her tragic loss and wealthy benefactor, she glanced up at him beneath her lashes with her beautiful eyes and practically whispered that she thought maybe she could be happy again, someday. Alejandro is sure – sure in his soul! – that he is what could make her happy again, and that she knows it too.
But Elena asked him to keep it a secret, so he says nothing.
When he leaves, Catalina follows him out the door. "You don't know something else, do you, Alejandro?" she asks hopefully.
Alejandro glances at the younger girl, knowing she is only dreaming, imagining herself in Elena's place with endless riches and beautiful clothes.
"No, I don't," he lies. "She's nice to all of us, and I don't like them talking about her like that," he says, and it is true. Elena is kind to all of them, she tips better than any other guest, and her entourage follows suit.
"Oh," Catalina says, clearly disappointed. "Yeah, you're right, she's way too nice to them, those pendejos don't deserve her money or kindness."
It's past midnight by the time Alejandro meets Elena at the hot tub. She looks tired still, and just a bit pale, worriedly he wonders if she's coming down with something.
She smiles when she sees him, rising onto her tiptoes again, but this time to greet him with a proper kiss. She only pulls away when a group of spring breakers appear at the pool's edge, despite the pool being closed at night.
"Let's go for a walk," she suggests. "Somewhere dark and secluded," she adds, smiling at him with desire in her eyes.
He takes her hand, leading her towards part of the resort that he knows will be empty now, where all the children's activities and day camp take place.
"You look tired," he observes.
She smiles. "Oh, you know, it's exhausting being surrounded by people all day," she says lightly.
He knows this is true, she isn't sure if any of her companions truly like her or not, but she doesn't send them away because many of them are the children of her uncle's business partners and their camaraderie pleases him.
He puts an arm around her shoulder. "You could tell them you want to sleep in tomorrow?" he suggests. "Then you'll at least have the morning to yourself."
She nods, resting her head on his shoulder. "That's a good idea."
They walk in companionable silence for a while.
Alejandro is wondering distractedly if his parents would truly mind having an American daughter-in-law – Elena's Spanish is impressive, actually – maybe they won't mind because of that. She could win them over, she is so charming and sweet, who wouldn't love her?
Elena is thinking this is the most deserted she's ever seen the resort, and she's regretting not asking him to take her here sooner.
She steps out of his embrace, standing squarely in front of him.
"Yes, Elena?" he asks, seeing her dark gaze fixed on him with intensity.
"Alejandro, I need you to do something for me," she says – no, commands.
He nods in a daze. "Of course, whatever you need," he says, knowing he means it but wondering why he is saying it.
"I would've asked sooner but I've barely been alone since Buenos Aires," she says with significant irritation.
Distantly, he wonders when she was in Argentina, she hasn't mentioned it until this very moment.
"Whatever you need," he repeats.
She fixes her gaze on him again. "Tomorrow, you are going to bring your sister, the one who works at the hospital…"
"Lettie," he offers.
She nods. "Right, you're going to bring Lettie lunch tomorrow," she says, holding his gaze. "You're going to bring all of her favorite foods, in a big icebox, as big as you can get away with, with ice packs so nothing spoils," she instructs. "And you're going to eat with her and make sure she has a great time, and that she takes any of the leftovers home." He finds himself nodding along.
"And after you say goodbye, you're going to go find out where they keep the blood, and you're going to take the icebox with the icepacks still inside, and you're going to fill it with bags of blood, a few of each blood type," she commands. "You'll have to alter the inventory too," she adds as an afterthought. "Find the physical copy of the inventory list and make sure it matches what you took exactly, hopefully they'll assume the digital copy is wrong."
She smiles at him bewitchingly. "Can you do that for me, Alejandro?"
He nods fervently. "Of course."
She relaxes. "I knew I could count on you."
"Of course, you can," he intones.
"When you're done, you'll bring it all to me," she says. "God I've been so hungry." She groans. "It took forever to find someone who has a connection to the hospital, and even longer to get you alone. Every time we've met there's been some stupid, drunk hotel guest around every corner. I haven't had enough to eat in days."
She looks at him, and he sees it now. She does not look tired or even wan, truly. She looks ravenous.
She bites her lip, eyes full of hunger. "I'll bet you're just delicious." She leans in, burying her face in his neck again, taking a deep breath, sighing torturously. "I can practically taste you," she murmurs against his skin.
"You can," he tells her, not entirely sure what he is telling her to do, only that he will let her do anything to him.
She pulls back, shaking her head. "Unfortunately, I really can't," she says, sounding disappointed. "It's the worst part about being her. I haven't eaten properly in ages."
"Why not?" he asks, genuinely curious despite his detached state.
She considers him seriously. "How much do you love your sister, Alejandro?"
"I would do anything for her," he answers honestly.
She smiles then, looking quite unlike herself – not at all angelic, she looks the opposite, really. "Then we understand each other."
AN: In case it's not clear, this entire chapter the person referred to as Elena is Katherine, not Elena. I just thought it'd be fun to see what Kat's been up to this whole time. Also the elderly uncle Kat told Alejandro about is actually Klaus, yup, he's financing it all! Kat living it up as Elena on Klaus' dime is a trope that is underrated and I'd like to see more of it. Oh, and please keep Miss Pink Hair in your mind! She'll be back when you least expect her. Anyway, hope everyone had fun! Not to put too much pressure on myself, but I've got things planned for Thursday, so I should be seeing you then. Thoughts? Questions? Please review!
xoxo
-Pixie