Stumbling towards my doorstep, I stagger at the sight of Bonnie and Kol kissing tenderly without a care in the world. I cringe. He’s wrong for her. He’s a monster! I stride my way to the door, “Seriously, Bonnie? And you can’t take this somewhere else?” They tear apart from each other, both giving me a stern look. Kol scoffs in his very Kol-like way.
“I’m sorry. Kol was just about to leave.” She says. I roll my eyes, pushing open our door. I brush pass them as if they were nonexistent. With that, of course my best friend would notice. She hurriedly follows behind me, leaving her visitor unattended. “Care, do you want to talk about it?”
Stripping off my boots, I shoot her an infuriated look, “Nope. Go ahead and suck on your man’s face all night. See if I care.”
Bonnie scoffs in a sarcastic manner, “Wow. You are the best!” she says with the most sarcasm I have ever heard from her, “And I mean, no other person’s best friend can be any less supportive with anyone’s boyfriend drama. You’re just,” she pauses, lost for words of insult, “one of a kind.” She turns her back on me. I sigh in regret. Walking after her without any shoes, I wanted to apologize.
However, Kol walking into the house made me halt. His predacious eyes met mine, making me wince in fear. His eyes travel from my head to toe until it went back up and stopped at my neck. I guzzle in horror. I take a step back, keeping a huge space between us, but he didn’t move. “He fed on you,” he mumbled.
My hands immediately shot up my neck to where the scarf rested. Bonnie instantaneously turns to my side and caresses my back. “Are you okay? Do you feel anything?”
I shake my head, “I’m fine. He didn’t.”
Behind me, I feel my best friend’s hand clenching into a fist in rage. I look at her. Her face was all scrunched up, “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.” She was running towards the door in a matter of seconds. With his vampire speed, Kol hurriedly stops her by the door. But all the sudden, he was now crippling between us. Crippling, crippling and then paralyzed.
It took me a while to process all that was happening. It must be a witch thing. Kol tries to get up. He tries to crawl up through Bonnie’s legs, but an invisible impact pressed him back down the ground. I hear him whimper. “Bonnie!” I shouted, running to her side. “Bonnie, look at me. I’m fine. Okay? I’m fine.” I force her to look at me, “Look at me. I’m fine.” I witness her facial muscles relax, but the cry from Kol hinted me of the pain his girlfriend was inflicting. “This isn’t you. Don’t let the magic control you, Bonnie. You’re hurting him. Please,” I shook her by her shoulder, “Come back.”
I hear her gasp as if she was out of breath. Her eyes blink rapidly for several times but I feel her body slump in relief. Even my whole body slump in relief as the shrieks from Kol dissipated. She looks at me, “What just happened?” looking at the ground where Kol lay. She tries to approach him in the gentlest manner, but losing balance, she immediately stumbles to his side.
“You were in some kind of a trance.” I answer her. She caresses Kol’s hair in the most loving manner I have ever seen. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
“I’m fine,” both she and Kol replies. They both laugh at their matching responses. I roll my eyes; kind of jealous of the chemistry they share. Sighing, “Should I go?” I ask them. Bonnie helps Kol get up, but end up being the one to lose balance. With his vampire speed, Kol catches her. “What’s wrong with her?”
The boyfriend looks at me, “Using too much magic can weaken a witch especially when she’s new at it.”
“But I’m fine,” she says.
He envelops his arms around Bonnie. I sigh, “You should rest.” She looks at the scarf on my neck. “I’m fine. He didn’t feed on me. Let’s leave it to Kol to make wild assumptions.” I roll my eyes to the direction of the charming man.
He chuckles, “Sorry, mate.” He turns his head to tell Bonnie, “I’ll take you to bed. And dare not hesitate or I will throw you over my shoulder.” The girl chuckles, “Come on.” He climbs the stairs with an arm holding her up while another clasped to her hand. I quickly walk over to the side to leave a gap between us when they pass me. Having witnessed a person get drained of life kind of makes a person cautious like that.
From the living room, I watch them climb up to her bedroom. How much longer can they make this last? He’s dangerous for her and I can’t sit back and watch her be happy when in the long run, I know that she’s the one who’s going to get hurt. She is always going to be ready to save me when I need her. Well, this is me trying to save her for once.
Crossing my arms as I leaned on the wall, I wait for him to come down. He has a smile plastered on his face as he arrogantly takes each step down the stairs. Glaring at his egotistical composure, I tell him, “You know that you can’t be with her.”
“Says who? I know you’re being the protective best friend that you are,” he barks, “But you don’t get to make comments about what might and might not happen to my life.” He says while taking each step down the stairs.
Biting my lower lip, I glare at him. “This isn’t easy for anyone. I want her to be happy, but you can’t possibly be her happiness when she practically has an arrow pointed at her back every time she is with you.”
He chuckles sarcastically, “Arrow? What am I? A superhero from a comic cook? We are creatures of the night, mate.” Rolling his eyes, “And if you are comparing me to a comic book character, can I at least be Batman? Not an Archer. At least the Bats is nocturnal.”
Sighing out the chuckle forming at the back of my throat, “Seriously? Leave it to you to make stupid comments about being a comic book character during a serious conversation.” He cringes uneasily. “I’m serious, Kol. Stay away from her.”
“Not your call to make. I’ll stay away when she asks me to. If she doesn’t, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me for the rest of you life.” He takes a cup from our cupboard and takes a huge bite on his wrist. I make a sound of disgust. Is that necessary? Is he actually trying to give me more reasons to hate him?! His wrist oozes of blood and it slowly drips down the cup. He hands it to me, “Drink up. Those marks are not going to cover themselves.” He points to my neck, “Until then, mate!” he walks towards the door.
I sigh. His intentions were actually for my own good. A stupid question creeps into my mind as I stare down at the cup. “So, you’re a comic geek, huh?” Deep inside of me, a roar of laughter was building. It’s crazy to be asking this to him in a serious setting, but he’s trying to be nice and I did tell him that I would try to do the same. This is me trying. If they aren’t breaking up, I, at least, have to live up to my words.
Although, now that I have gathered that he is a vampire, I can’t make myself feel at ease around him. There must be another way to make this happen with me feeling relaxed. But from what I experienced for the day, I think that I have the right to feel a little paranoid and crazy. “Nik has this obnoxious collection of comic books from way back the 80’s. It’s astonishing how much of a nerd a psychotic hybrid vampire can be.”
With that said, he finally leaves. Strangely, I thought that was cute of him.
I hit my head with my hand. Snap out of it! Cute? Klaus? No. Monster. Yes. Monster. Klaus. That’s it. Awesome. Scrunching my face in disgust, I drain the cup of blood. I walk to stand in front of a mirror and watch the bruises fade away. It really works. I feel my life crumbling down as I realize that for all my life, I had been living a lie. Sighing, I fire up my laptop from the living room and start writing an article about Klaus’ art exhibit this Friday. Work must take my mind off of this.
It didn’t take long and I immediately sent it to Marcel’s personal email address. I wasn’t hoping for a reply since it was late, but I longed for him to consider it. I think that the exhibit will be for a good cause, regardless of its host.
- / -
“Caroline!” I hear a shout from the other room. Not planning to respond to it, I cover my face with a pillow. The sound of the door slamming open continues to disturb my sleep, but I didn’t get up. “Caroline! You won’t believe this. It’s published!” she shouted, “Your work is published.”
My eyes quickly shoots open and I immediately hurl up from the bed and to my best friend’s side, “Let me see.” I stripped her hands of today’s paper and read aloud what my eyes were seeing. “King’s Project for a Cause by Caroline Forbes.” I shot Bonnie a look, “The title is lame and not mine, but the contents are —” I silenced, lost of words. “Oh my God! I’m a journalist now.” I grin from ear to ear, “I’m officially a published journalist! Would you believe that?!”
She gives me a big hug, “Oh, Caroline. I knew you’d do great. I’m so proud of you for taking chances.” She pulls out of the hug, “I’m having breakfast with Kol today, but let’s celebrate together later tonight, okay?” I nod and smile back. “Congratulations. Now go call your mom and Stefan. I’m sure they’d be so proud of you too.”
In the next 20 minutes, I was in a deep conversation with my mom about recent events. She was so worried of my safety since I may suddenly become a public figure through all this, but I was able to convince her to relax and I promised her to bring home a copy of my first published work. The next person I called was Stefan. To no one’s surprise, he already knew about the news. He’s always been keeping tabs on me.
“You already know, don’t you?” I bark.
I hear a laugh from the other line, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I groan in frustration, “Oh, don’t pretend, Stefan. I’m sure you already heard of it from your creepy sources.”
“Creepy? My friends are not creepy. It’s not my fault so many of them live in New Orleans. I’ll have you reminded that we actually went to the same high school. So if you have a lot of friends there, it’s very likely that I would too.”
Laughing, “Oh, stop it. Don’t make this call about you or about my constant stupidity. Stefan Salvatore, you will show respect to me. I am not a renowned journalist just yet, but I’ll have you know that my career is looking very bright this year.”
“I’m sure it is. And I couldn’t be any more proud.” I smile at his words, “I’m sorry I can’t visit right now, but I promise you that we will celebrate as soon as we see each other again. I need to go now, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay? And say hi to Bonnie for me.”
“Bye,” a beep cut the line.
It is universal knowledge that your first achievement in the line of journalism or any career path is your base line for anything else to come. People are going to judge you based on your first work. My first article wasn’t very good at all, which has gotten me very curious why Marcel would approve of it. I quickly change into my work clothes and take a cab to the firm.
His secretary was out, leaving his door wide open. I knock lightly, “Marcel?” My head peeks inside his large office. The man seated in the big black chair vigorously stands up, spreading his two arms as a wide welcome, “Caroline! What a pleasant surprise.” He clasps his hands together, “Do you have an appointment?”
Shaking my head, I take a seat on one of the visitor’s seats. “No, I’m actually here to enquire you about recent events.”
“I like recent events. What’s the problem?” he asks nonchalantly, sitting back down.
I swallow nervously. “I know the article I wrote wasn’t the one you were asking for, but I specifically stated in the email I sent you that I just really wanted to spread the word about this great cause. And it’s great that you approved of it, but it shows that my work is unskillfully written. I just want to know what convinced you to approve it.” The doings of a certain British king, perhaps?
He lies back against the back of his chair, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I gaped. I knew this was a mistake. He might not even have noticed my article and just plastered it in because he was too sleepy last night. I did send it in late at night and he probably didn’t realize that my work was part of the discard pile. Grabbing a copy of today’s paper from the side, I point at my article. He takes it from me and reads it in his head.
“I think it’s fine, Caroline.” He put down the copy on his table and recedes to his usual laid back position. “A little rough, but I think it’s fine. So, what are you complaining about?”
My ears are definitely betraying me right now. Is this for real? “I’m not complaining. I was just curious how my first submitted work immediately gets published.” Did he bribe you? I slouch. He probably had access to the whole company and planted it on the layout himself. Maybe that’s why Marcel didn’t know about it.
He laughs, “You’re really new at this, aren’t you?” I give him a quizzical look, “I’m the boss, but I’m not the one who says which article stays and goes.”
My face wrinkles up in humiliation. I totally forgot about this. He’s just a boss, “Because that’s the work of the chief editor.” I sigh, “Oh my God. This is so humiliating right now. I shouldn’t have come.” I immediately stood up, wanting to make a run for it.
But my boss just laughs again. He gives me his manly smile and say, “Office of the chief editor is on the second floor.” I nod, turning my back to him and aiming for the door. “Oh wait,” his words made me stop my exit. “How’s your feature work on the Mikaelson’s going?”
I bit my lower lip. I should probably tell him that there would be no article about the Mikaelson’s, but just of Klaus. He’s going to fire me for sure. “Actually, I —” but my words were cut when his secretary enters the office and interrupts me.
“I am so sorry, Mr. Gerard. I went out to get your coffee and she just barged in.” I give the secretary a menacing look. “Ms. Forbes, please leave. And next time, don’t come in when I’m out. It’s a policy.”
Scoffing my way out of the office, I mentally curse the secretary. The door slam noisily behind my back. Who is she to say those words to me? I sigh, taking the elevator down the second floor. Marcel didn’t actually tell me which office on the second was the chief editor’s. I guess I’m going to have to ask a few people. Well, I hope I don’t need to get back to his secretary and ask her. I’d rather die.
The elevator beeps to a halt when I reached the second floor. As I get out, a pair of potted plants on both sides of a huge office door welcomes me. I knock on the glass door and talk to the girl behind the front desk. “Uhm, hi. I’m here to see the chief editor. You must be her secretary.”
“Excuse me?” she says, raising an arrogant eyebrow at me.
I shiver. What a menacing raise of an eyebrow. “You must not know who I am, I’m —”
“Caroline Forbes,” she continues for me. “I know who you are. What do you want?”
Rude. I didn’t realize that all of the members of the staff in this firm were bitches. If I knew beforehand, I wouldn’t have applied. “Like I said, I need to speak with the chief editor.”
She pouts her lips at me and stares back down on her computer, “So talk. I’m listening.” My eyes jar wide open at her words. That’s why she’s so mean to me. She is insulted by my reference to her as a secretary. Crap. I’m so never going to see her again.
I respond, “I want to talk to you about my article. The one about the exhibit.” She didn’t speak. “The one about Klaus’ exhibit? King’s Project for a Cause. The —”
She cuts me off again, “I know which article, Caroline. I’m chief editor. I’m the brain of the firm. I’m very familiar with each work we publish. Talk about your concerns. I don’t have all day.”
Sighing, I scratch my head in shame. “I just think that it was amateurishly written. You didn’t need to publish it. I mean, I did state in the email I sent to Marcel that I just wanted people to acknowledge that such an event will be happening. You could have just rewritten it under your name, because it looks bad to have a botched article sitting right beside proficient ones.”
Pouting her lips again, she stares up at me with her intimidating eyes. “This firm is one of the best because we care about facts, news and leisure. I don’t find anything about your work that is in contradiction of those qualities. Yes, you’re new and inexperienced, but that doesn’t mean that you never get to have your name under the limelight. We have standards, and Marcel hired you because you beat those standards. So, don’t be surprised if your second article gets published too.
“Our staff is consisting of very efficient writers. You have your competition, but you are also part of the staff. You are also an efficient writer. Don’t allow anyone to tell you otherwise.” She pauses, “Besides, don’t underestimate yourself, because you have managed to get details about the Mikaelson’s. All that the locals would do is admire you for the courage and competence. Their family hardly allows us to interview them,” she pauses again, “Maybe I should officially assign you to them. You get to write all of the wonderful stories about the royal family and the firm gets to get the work done.” After she has finished her lecture, she immediately looks back down her computer and starts typing again with a smirk playing on her lips, as if I wasn’t even there. Okay, so maybe I would need to reevaluate the staff, starting with her.
She’s very noble and respectable. I can’t believe I mentally called her a bitch literally minutes ago. “If there’s nothing else, Ms. Forbes. Please exit my office. It’s starting to smell decrepit in here.” She gives me an intimidating smirk. I scoff. So maybe, bitch hanging with a little noble is the appropriate characterization for her, but she’s okay.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” I ask before finally leaving.
She bats her eyes at me, “You should read our paper more often, Ms. Forbes. If the producers don’t read it, how do you expect the consumers would?” I swallow. Okay, I get that logic. “Oh and by the way, Marcel’s personal email address?” she says. I nod at her, giving her a sign that I was catching her drift. “It’s mine. He doesn’t own one. Everything that you want to submit to him will have to pass through me. And if I deem your message worthy, then maybe I would pass it to him.”
“Isn’t that kind of wrong? You would be withholding his messages from him.”
Chuckling silently but arrogantly, she says to me, “The firm deals with facts. I didn’t say that the staff would.” I smile secretively. This girl is just — badass.