The night advanced slowly over Mystic Falls, wrapping the town in that characteristic silence that always seemed to hide more than it revealed. The narrow streets took on a yellowish glow beneath the old lampposts, while the brick and wood facades reflected the soft light as if they were part of a scene eternally trapped in the past.
In the distance, one could hear the faint sound of a car passing by—perhaps someone heading home or going somewhere where the night was only just beginning.
The breeze carried a slight scent of damp wood and night-blooming flowers, mingled with the welcoming stillness that always settled over the town after sunset.
In the town center, the Mystic Grill had already opened its doors as usual, drawing in teenagers, exhausted workers, and anyone seeking, for a few hours, to forget their own dramas.
The building, painted in a grayish-green tone, displayed simple architecture with straight lines, slightly worn by time but still solid and well-preserved. Above the windows, small decorative moldings reinforced the impression of an old structure. The canvas awning, a beige that was almost gray, stretched over the sidewalk with the name MYSTIC GRILL stamped discreetly, while the main sign just above, in sturdy, illuminated white letters, stood out against the darker wall.
The windows, with black shutters and reflective glass, allowed only glimpses of the interior bathed in the orange glow of neon signs.
Inside, the atmosphere carried that unique blend of warmth and chaos: the constant hum of conversations, time-marked wooden tables, low lights that enveloped everything in an intimate ambiance, and the distinctive smell of frying food, beer, and something vaguely nostalgic—an aroma so familiar it always seemed to invite passersby to come in and stay a while longer.
The background music competed with the sound of voices and the occasional crack of pool balls being struck. Waiters hurried across the room with practiced haste, and among them was Vicki Donovan, balancing a tray in one hand, her simple uniform hugging her slim body, her restless gaze that of someone trying to keep her life upright with her own two hands.
Jeremy Gilbert watched her from afar, biting his lip and gathering the courage to approach. He looked out of place there, shoulders tense, with that lost expression he'd carried since the summer.
He took a deep breath and walked over to her.
"Hey… Vick."
She didn't even slow down. She just threw a quick glance over her shoulder.
"I'm working."
And she moved on, leaving no room for anything else.
Vicki veered toward the table where Matt and Tyler were sitting. She set down the glasses with practiced efficiency, no ceremony.
"Thanks, Vick," Matt said, giving a polite smile.
"You need another round?" Vicki asked, looking straight at Tyler.
Tyler leaned back in his chair with that arrogant confidence he thought was irresistible.
"I'd love one…"
She just exhaled through her nose—a tired half-laugh—and walked away.
Matt watched her go, then turned to Tyler, brow furrowed.
"Please tell me you're not hooking up with my sister."
Tyler raised his eyebrows as if the accusation were absurd. "I'm not hooking up with your sister."
Matt sighed. "You're a complete idiot…"
Tyler didn't reply; his smile said everything Matt didn't want to think about.
Jeremy, meanwhile, seized the moment when Vicki passed through the room again to catch up with her once more. This time she stopped—more out of obligation than desire—since she had to clear one of the tables.
"Hey, what's your problem?" Jeremy asked, voice low, a little unsteady. "I mean, over the summer you act one way, but then school starts and you don't even care…"
Her gaze softened for just a second.
"Look, Jeremy, I'm really grateful for the pills, but you can't keep following me around like a lost puppy…"
"When was the last time you had sex with a puppy?" he shot back, too quickly.
"Hey, keep it down. I don't want to announce to the whole world that I deflowered Elena's little brother…" Vicki hissed, frowning.
"Yeah. And you deflowered him many, many times…" Jeremy said ironically.
Vicki finished tidying the table and turned toward him as she spoke. "We hooked up a few times while we were high. It's over. You need to back off before you ruin everything between me and Tyler…"
"Oh, come on, the guy's a total idiot," Jeremy said, frowning. "He just wants to sleep with you…"
"Really? And what do you want?" Vicki said, looking deep into his eyes before walking away, brushing his shoulder as she left him standing there in the middle of the Grill, loud music playing and frustration burning in his chest.
At that moment, Caroline and Bonnie walked through the door of the Mystic Grill.
The two made their way through the noisy room, weaving between chairs and occupied tables, passing groups of teenagers who greeted them with quick waves. Caroline ignored half of them—she was too busy talking, gesturing wildly, and rolling her eyes dramatically.
"I just think it's extremely unfair…" Caroline began, with the indignation of someone who had clearly been rehearsing that speech in her head for hours. "That Ryan just gives Elena a ride and doesn't even think to offer us one too. Like, hello, we're his friends too, right?"
She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes theatrically.
"Because honestly, it feels like he has a certain favoritism toward Elena. And that's so typical! He shows up all nice, with that mysterious leading-man smile, and boom—just Elena blinking twice and there he goes, turning into her personal chauffeur."
Bonnie let out a long sigh, looking at Caroline like someone trying to calm a hurricane with words alone.
"Care… for the love of God…" she murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're making it sound like Ryan kidnapped Elena or something. This is exactly why I regret telling you. He just gave her a ride. One single ride. You don't need to open a congressional investigation over favoritism because of it. And let's be honest… if you really wanted a ride, you could have just asked instead of delivering this courtroom-worthy speech."
Caroline threw up her hands as if Bonnie had just confirmed exactly what she was trying to prove.
"Bonnie, one ride is just the beginning! First it's the ride… then it's the parking lot. And you know perfectly well what happens in the parking lot. That's always where romances start… or explode… or drag on slow and tense in that way only Elena can make things." She whispered the last part as if revealing a highly confidential secret.
Bonnie closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, clearly gathering patience.
"Caroline…" she murmured, with the gentle exhaustion of someone who had already accepted they were going to lose this argument anyway. "I swear you come up with more conspiracy theories than any shady website on the internet. It's a ride. He's not proposing to Elena in the school parking lot."
Caroline narrowed her eyes, leaning toward her friend with all the dramatic conviction in the world.
"But he could. Because that's how it starts. First he gives her a ride. Then he parks. And then… boom. You blink and they're having a moment. And us? Where do we fit in that equation? In the metaphorical back seat of his life?"
The two finally reached an empty table near the window, one of the few still available on that busy night. Bonnie collapsed into the chair with a deep sigh, while Caroline dropped her bag onto the seat beside her and scanned the room as if already assessing it for her next dramatic move.
"I'm going to order something to drink, because honestly, my stress levels are off the charts," Caroline announced, smoothing her hair with an automatic flick. "Do you want anything? Not that I'll accept a 'no,' because you clearly need sugar to deal with me."
Bonnie just raised an eyebrow, exhausted but amused.
"Surprise me."
Caroline nodded solemnly, as if she'd been given a critical mission, and marched toward the bar, already starting to tell some waitress about the ride tragedy as if it were a historic event.
Bonnie shook her head alone, resting her chin in her hand.
That was when Matt appeared, finally free from Tyler—who had dragged himself over to the pool table—and walked toward her with that hesitant air of someone who wasn't sure if he was invited… or too desperate to care.
"H-Hey, Bonnie." He smiled politely, with that slightly awkward kindness that had become typical of him in recent months.
"Can I…?" He pointed to the chair.
Bonnie gestured for him to sit.
"Of course, Matt. Go ahead."
He settled in, running a hand through his hair nervously.
"So… how are you?"
"I'm good," Bonnie smiled. "I mean, aside from Caroline freaking out over a ride."
Matt gave a soft laugh, but the smile quickly faded. He tapped his fingers on the table, restless inside, until he finally asked:
"Have you… by any chance…" He paused, took a deep breath, and continued, "Has Elena said anything about me? Like… recently?"
Bonnie blinked, immediately recognizing the broken tone behind the question.
And, as always, when the subject was Elena, she knew exactly where this was headed.
"Matt…"
"I know, I know." He raised his hands quickly, as if already defending himself from something she hadn't even said. "It's just… I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if she… you know, misses me. Or if… she remembers us."
Bonnie bit her lip, choosing her words carefully.
"She cares about you, Matt. She always has. But you two… you went down different paths. That doesn't mean she forgot; it just means she's trying to move forward. In her own way."
Matt nodded slowly, but he didn't look convinced.
At that exact moment, Caroline returned carrying two drinks and an indignant expression that promised more chaos in a matter of seconds.
"Oh! Matt! You're here." She said it with slight theatrical surprise, as if she hadn't practically grown up in the same places as him. "I didn't see you come in."
Matt gave a half-shy, half-relieved smile that he wasn't being shooed away.
"Hey, Caroline."
Caroline slammed the glasses down on the table hard enough that Bonnie was almost sure one would slide off. She sat with rigid posture, eyes wide and an offended sigh that already announced: heavy drama incoming.
"You won't believe the outrage that just happened at the bar." She pointed at herself, indignant. "I, Caroline Forbes, was solemnly IGNORED."
Bonnie closed her eyes for a moment, bracing for impact. "Caroline… please don't tell me it was just because someone took three extra seconds to serve you."
"THREE seconds? Bonnie Bennett, I dare say it was five. FIVE seconds. And you know that in Caroline time, that's practically a personal insult." Caroline placed a hand on her chest as if reliving real trauma.
Matt opened his mouth to say something—probably an apology for not fully grasping Caroline's dramatic scale—but before he could form a complete sentence, Tyler's voice echoed from the pool table:
"Matt! Get over here quick, man!"
The tone wasn't urgent enough to be serious… but it was annoying enough to leave Matt visibly resigned. He narrowed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at the two girls with a defeated expression.
"I… think I have to go."
Bonnie tried to give an understanding smile. "Sure, go ahead."
Caroline, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow as if she'd been offended again.
"Seriously? What does he want you for? To watch him miss another perfect shot and blame the lighting?"
Matt opened his mouth, hesitated, then just sighed.
"It's Tyler. I need to stop him from doing… I don't know, something stupid."
Bonnie nodded, understanding.
Caroline crossed her arms, still indignant but letting it pass.
"Fine, whatever. Go. Before he decides to throw a cue stick at someone's head."
Matt smiled without humor, thanked them quietly, and walked away toward the pool table. Tyler was already yelling something about "two sensational shots," though it looked anything but sensational.
When he disappeared into the noise and lights, Caroline let out a sigh, pulled her drink closer, and took a long sip as if the fate of the universe depended on it.
Bonnie did the same, though far more moderately, before resting her arms on the table.
"So…" Bonnie began, knowing she needed to carefully mediate her friend's mood. "What exactly happened at the bar? Besides you being ignored for… five seconds."
Caroline's eyes widened as if that alone were an unforgivable crime.
"First of all, that should already be enough to arrest someone, but okay, let's focus." She leaned across the table, lowering her voice as if sharing explosive gossip. "The waitress… you know, the new one, the brunette?"
Bonnie already sighed. "Caroline…"
"No, seriously! She looked at me like I'd asked her to sacrifice her soul to the cappuccino demon. I only ordered two drinks! Two! I was super polite, too. Little smile, sweet voice, everything."
Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And what was her crime?"
"The way she answered me." Caroline mimicked the waitress, twisting her face into a blasé expression: "'I'm coming.' Like… excuse me? You work here, sweetie! That's literally your job!"
Bonnie couldn't hold it in—she laughed.
Caroline's mouth fell open, offended.
"Bonnie! Don't laugh! This is serious!"
"It's just… you make it sound like she put a curse on you."
Caroline narrowed her eyes, taking another dramatic sip.
"If she had magic, she would have. Clearly she's jealous. I'm gorgeous, organized, I look amazing even when I'm annoyed, and I still walk into this decrepit establishment with elegance. She can't handle it."
Bonnie brought a hand to her face.
"Caroline… nobody's jealous because you ordered two drinks."
Caroline ignored her.
"And besides… she was looking at me that way. Like… 'oh, here comes another problematic blonde.' I felt it. I felt it in the air."
"Caroline… you are a problematic blonde," Bonnie said with complete serenity.
Caroline's expression froze for half a second.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."
"You heard it."
"Didn't hear it."
"Did."
Caroline took another sip and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs like she was posing for a magazine cover.
"Anyway… I just wanted decent service, a little respect, and maybe a discount because I'm a loyal customer."
Bonnie laughed again.
"You've been here three times this week."
"EXACTLY." Caroline gestured with her free hand. "Loyal. Customer."
Bonnie shook her head, chuckling softly as she brought the glass to her lips.
For a few moments, the two just sat there, drinking and watching the comings and goings of the Grill.
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