"They're talking about the sexy car wash at school," Bonnie said as she barged into my room, jumped onto my bed, and shoved me aside.
"Hey—" What the hell, she elbowed me in the ribs. "It's cramped here, move over."
I growled, pushing her away, but she wrapped herself around me like a jiu-jitsu hold and refused to let go.
"Noooo," Bonnie growled and kneed me in the stomach. "Listen."
Damn, that hurt like hell.
"What do you want?" I gave up and relaxed on the bed, realizing I wasn't going to get her off me. "What about this sexy car wash?"
"There was one, actually," Bonnie replied playfully. "Caroline didn't want to organize it. According to her… she didn't want the school's boyfriend-stealers checking out her boyfriend shirtless."
"Hahahahah." I couldn't help laughing. "Who would've thought my beautiful girlfriend, who never backs down, would stop organizing parties because of me?"
"Dude, she's liked you since first grade," Bonnie growled and tapped my forehead. "She literally cried when she saw you with that redhead and all the older girls you hooked up with before that."
"Hey now…" I argued with mild irritation. "She came over and pulled my hair—she totally ruined my make-out session."
"Shut up," Bonnie growled and tapped my forehead again. "Now there's the Founders' Ball and Stefan's birthday. Elena invited all of us."
"Go ahead," I replied quickly, snuggling back into the bed—and got another smack on the forehead. "Ow."
"Not 'go ahead.' We're going."
"'We're going'?" I repeated with as much dignity as possible, which is difficult when your sister is sitting on your stomach like she's defending a world championship belt.
Bonnie narrowed her eyes.
"You're going. The Founders' Ball is like… mystical town tradition. Half the curses start at these events."
"Great argument, thanks for the reassurance." I tried pushing her again. Failed miserably. "And Stefan's birthday? How old is he turning, one-fifty?"
"One-seventy-something, but he stops counting after a hundred. Math trauma."
I let out a laugh through my nose. "So basically a formal ball followed by an immortal version of 'happy birthday.'"
"Exactly. And you're wearing a suit."
I slowly turned my face toward the ceiling like someone staring into existential emptiness. "I hate suits. I feel like a penguin with bills to pay."
Bonnie rested her chin on my forehead. "Caroline already picked the color."
"She what."
"Dark blue. She said it matches your eyes and your 'emotionally unavailable problem aura.'"
"I am not emotionally unavailable."
Bonnie stayed silent.
"I'm just… selectively accessible."
She started laughing so hard she almost fell off the bed. "You have the emotional depth of a frozen lake."
"Wrong. I'm a mysterious ocean."
"You're a dramatic puddle."
I tried to look offended but ended up laughing too. The truth is, the idea of the ball had its charm. The whole town pretending to be normal while half the guests could rip a door off with one hand. Human tradition mixed with supernatural secrets. It's almost poetic. Or chaotic. In Mystic Falls, those are usually the same thing.
"Fine," I sighed. "I'll go. But if someone tries to force me to waltz, I'm disappearing."
Bonnie raised a finger. "You're dancing."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"No."
She lifted her eyebrow in that way that announces imminent disaster. "Want me to tell Caroline you practiced a speech in the mirror to ask her out?"
I froze.
"You recorded," she continued with scientific cruelty, "four different versions."
"You went through my phone?"
"I'm a witch. Privacy is a flexible concept."
I covered my face with my hands. "I hate this family."
"You love it." She leaned her head on my shoulder. "And you love her."
I stayed quiet for a second. Not because she was wrong. But because she was right.
"If someone pulls my hair at the ball, I'm reacting."
"If you pull someone's hair, I'm reacting."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a promise."
We stayed like that in comfortable silence until Bonnie spoke again:
"By the way… they say there's going to be a symbolic king and queen election."
I laughed. "Let me guess. Caroline already made a spreadsheet."
"Three."
"Of course she did."
Bonnie got up and pulled me by the arm. "Get up, mysterious ocean. We need to plan your look before you decide to show up in All Stars."
"I look good in All Stars."
"You look like you're about to fight the DJ."
As she dragged me down the hallway, I thought maybe the ball would be peaceful. Maybe it would just be music, expensive food, and boring speeches.
In Mystic Falls, that usually means something's going to explode.
But for now, the only thing exploding was my pride, because my sister was literally picking my tie.
"And who are you going with?" I asked, wanting to know who she was taking to the ball. "If it's not someone I approve of, find someone else."
"Hey… I'm grown," Bonnie muttered, trying to smack my forehead again, but I dodged. "I decide who I go out with."
"Bonnie… who?" I said more seriously. There was no way she was going alone. Bonnie was beautiful—and not just because she's my sister. She was genuinely beautiful. If it weren't for me keeping all the jerks away from her, she'd be one of the most desired girls in town.
"Tch. Ben," she said with a complicated smile.
"The bartender?" I asked irritably. "You're forbidden from seeing that guy. He's a vampire."
"Hey… don't be racist. You're half-vampire too," she scolded, annoyed. "You don't let me go out with Jeremy and now you want to forbid me from going to the ball? When did you become my dad?"
"As of now. And I'm not working for a five-hundred-year-old vampire," I said irritably. Why the hell is she so attracted to vampires? "He works for the Asian vampire."
"Wait… Jeremy's girlfriend?" Bonnie looked shocked. "Wait, does that mean things are about to get brutal? But Jeremy's still with Vicki."
"Not anymore. Vicki's going to rehab and staying there for a few years," I said with a sigh.
"Nik, you can't do that," she cut in. "You can't control people with magic."
"I know, but I healed her with my blood and I'm an Original without a weak point," I said, remembering the series where Hope had to bleed in a garden to grow a tree capable of killing her. "If she dies with my blood in her system, we'll have a super vampire addicted to blood."
"That is not good," Bonnie replied honestly.
—+++—
Bonnie stared at me like I had just announced I was building a nuclear lab in the basement.
"You can't just go around handing out Original blood like it's soda."
Before I could answer, her phone buzzed. She read the message, rolled her eyes, and stood up.
"I have to go. And yes, I'm going to the ball with Ben."
"Bonnie."
She stopped at the door.
"If he does anything weird—"
"I'm a witch. And from what you said, he's a baby vampire. Relax, teenage dad version."
She left laughing, and I stayed alone in my room with my thoughts and the uncomfortable feeling that maybe she was right about one thing:
But the ball was today.
—
The Founders' Hall looked like it had been decorated by someone who mixes Pinterest with historical trauma. Massive chandeliers, old flags, classical music playing in the background, and a bunch of people pretending they don't know half the town has died at least once.
Then I saw Caroline.
Light blue. Long dress. Hair styled in a way that looked too effortlessly perfect to actually be effortless. She saw me at the exact same second and gave that smile that dismantles any logical argument I've prepared.
She walked toward me like the floor had rehearsed it.
"You wore dark blue," she said, satisfied. "Like I told you."
"Coincidence."
"Liar."
I offered my arm, overly formal. "May I have the honor, Miss Spreadsheet?"
She laughed and accepted.
We entered the hall together. Some people stared. Not at me. At her. Always at her. Caroline had that star energy that doesn't ask permission.
The music shifted to something slower.
She looked at me.
I looked at the exit.
She squeezed my hand.
"You promised."
"I promised not to run immediately."
"Dance with me."
I sighed like someone accepting their fate and pulled her closer. My hand rested on her waist. Hers moved to my shoulder. The world grew a little quieter.
"You're nervous," she murmured.
"I've faced vampires and kept this city as my territory and I'm a prince of a world of death."
"And?"
"You're scarier."
She laughed softly, resting her forehead against mine for a second.
We started dancing slowly. Nothing elaborate. Just a simple sway. The kind of movement that seems silly until you realize you're synchronized.
"I canceled the car wash because of you," she confessed.
"I heard."
"I don't like the idea of half the school staring at you."
"I only have eyes for you."
She stopped.
"Did you practice that in the mirror?"
"Maybe."
She smiled in that soft way that isn't performative. It's real.
"You're an idiot," she said.
"Your idiot."
She moved a little closer. The entire hall was still there—laughter, music, too many people—but it felt distant. For a few minutes, Mystic Falls wasn't a supernatural minefield. It was just a dance. Just two teenagers trying to look normal.
"I like it when you're not trying to save the world," she said quietly.
"I only save the people I care about. The world can explode as long as you're okay."
The music ended. People applauded. I almost let her go, but Caroline held my hand.
"Don't run."
"I won't."
And in that moment, I really wouldn't.
Across the hall, I saw Bonnie dancing with Ben. She looked at me. I looked back. She gestured, "Behave."
I answered with, "I'm watching."
She rolled her eyes.
The night felt too stable.
Which, in Mystic Falls, is always suspicious.
But while Caroline rested her head against my chest and another song began,
I just danced.
And surprisingly, that was hard enough.
The night had ended too beautifully. In Mystic Falls, that's basically a flashing warning sign: prepare yourself.
I had just left Caroline at her front door. She gave me a quick kiss, smiled in that way that dismantles any violent impulse I might have… and went inside.
Two seconds later: gunshots.
Not metaphorical. Real gunshots.
My body reacted before my brain did. In one leap, I was already on the roof of the neighboring house, vision enhanced, hearing wide open like a supernatural satellite dish.
And there she was.
Blonde. Fluid movements. Dodging bullets like they were annoying mosquitoes.
Lexi.
Stefan's friend. Killed by Damon. Supposedly.
She wasn't just fast. She was… refined. Every movement calculated. Young vampires run. Ancient vampires dance.
The police fired, but she spun, leaned, vanished from the line of fire at the last millisecond. Physics applied to chaos.
Then I noticed something else.
Damon.
Coming from the shadows. Silent. Predator's smile.
He was going to finish it.
I tilted my head and projected my voice with magic, shifting the sound like a ghost whisper behind her.
— Behind you. Don't kill the humans. Leave now and I'll help you.
Lexi froze for half a second. Half a second for an ancient vampire is a strategic eternity.
She didn't try to find me. Smart.
Instead, she did something better.
She advanced.
But not to kill.
In two almost lazy movements, she grabbed a cop's arm, twisted, disarmed him. Another had his rifle taken before he understood what was happening. A third was shoved against the squad car hard enough to knock him out, but not break anything vital.
Surgical.
No blood.
No fatalities.
The sheriff raised her gun, trembling.
Lexi appeared behind her in a blink, grabbed her wrist firmly and struck the back of her neck. The sheriff collapsed.
Then Damon attacked.
Impulsive, as always.
He came in with brutal speed, aiming for the heart.
Lexi spun at the last instant. His arm sliced through empty space. She caught his wrist, used his momentum against him, and hurled him into a car.
Metal crumpled.
Damon stood up coughing, blood at the corner of his mouth.
"You were always dramatic, Lexi."
"And you were always predictable."
He lunged again, more serious now, striking repeatedly with the stake. Lexi dodged lazily.
So this world, unlike the series, respects vampire power evolution. Which means my father is probably closer to Klaus-from-the-books level than the show version in terms of power.
Damon was technical.
Lexi was strong and fast and technical.
She absorbed a strike, locked his elbow, kicked his knee with absurd precision, and slammed him to the ground. In a second she was kneeling over him, gripping his throat and choking him.
"Still arrogant," she murmured as he struggled for air.
Damon tried to push her off, but she pressed harder.
Humiliating. For him.
I sensed reinforcements coming. More distant sirens. More guns. More chaos.
I projected another whisper.
— Now.
She didn't hesitate.
She shoved Damon hard enough to send him sliding across the asphalt. He stayed down, stunned long enough.
I expanded the field around her, muffling sound, distorting perception. There's no perfect invisibility—that requires absurd focus—but enough to confuse human eyes under adrenaline.
Lexi vanished almost like my mother's teleportation. The difference was Lexi left speed-blurs behind, while my mother simply appeared and disappeared.
I jumped off the roof and landed beside her in the next alley. Lexi appeared in front of me.
She looked at me for the first time.
Sharp eyes. Assessing threat, intention, power.
"Witch?" she said.
"Warlock. Witch sounds too feminine."
She almost smiled.
"Helping someone who's already dead isn't common around here."
"Mystic Falls has terrible social habits."
She tilted her head.
Footsteps in the distance. Flashlights sweeping the alley.
I made a quick gesture, bending the path of sound. The voices seemed to drift in the opposite direction.
Lexi watched me with interest.
"And why help?"
I thought of Stefan. Of Caroline. Of how this town swallows good people when no one interferes.
"You owe me one."
She held my gaze for a long second.
Then nodded.
"When you need me, just call."
She moved first, disappearing into the darkness with that ancient elegance.
I stood there for a second.
Damon was furious somewhere behind me. The sheriff would wake up confused. The town would invent a convenient explanation.
And once again, I had changed fate.