A/N: Yep so I'm starting another project. Leave me to my addiction, please and enjoy. Also this is told in first person, just fyi.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to LJ Smith/CW. Plot is mine.

Words could be like pheromones attracting either the right or wrong element, but attracting an element nonetheless. The words that streamed through my mouth were the words written by fearless mothers and daughters who looked the impossible straight in the eye, and laughed in its face. I never really aimed to follow in their footsteps and for that I guess you could say I've paid the price. Dearly. Numerously. I never thought beyond welding my power further than breaking the rules of the balance. I never saw my power as anything more than a tool, a weapon, a shield. A failsafe. I wasted months and years thinking that was its sole reason and why I had been born into the bloodline I was a part of. I missed the entire point. My power could only go so far, do so much. At the end of the day, it couldn't stop those I loved and cared about from leaving. From dying.

Sitting on the edge of my bed in the empty residential hall, I flipped the envelope over and over in my hands. I counted up the days, the talks, the encounters, the smiles, the shouting, and the laughs. The tears. If I read these words it wouldn't undo the past, but would only reaffirm the future. A future I've been sentenced to walk through alone.

"…fuck him…" whispered between lips that had been pinched for over ten hours. It had been an exhausting drive to and from Brooklyn.

I thought I knew hate. Thought I understood the intricacies of loneliness and I did. But it was triggered once more and by the person I thought would understand what this might do to me the most. I gave him far too much credit, apparently.

His words, his explanation, his excuse was all I had left of him. I didn't know what to do with any of this. Read this letter and close the door on this chapter. Not read it and therefore leave things open ended, but I already knew the ending. Once someone left me they never came back.

Inhaling a shuddering breath I knew I had choices to make. Yet the first choice I made was simple. Easy. Never again love a Salvatore.

3 years later…

After I turned in my final exam, put in the paperwork for a university transfer, I hopped in the U-Haul and drove 270 miles to my new abode. Within the week I had a job as a bartender slash entertainer. Free from the bonds of a paranormal hometown and its subsequent twin of Whitmore, I sat out to find and discover who Bonnie Bennett is without the bells and whistles of hereditary magic.

The transition wasn't seamless but when was anything? I had my good days, bad days, days where I was indifferent with everything and everyone around me. My smiles had been counterfeit, my attitude volleyed between bitchy and upbeat, but I found a spot for myself where I could easily blend and not feel segregated. I was welcomed but not treated like an oddity and it was so strange it automatically made me irrationally suspicious. There were so many behaviors I had to unlearn.

Moving through this biosphere I found there was more freedom to be had when you divorced yourself from your emotions. At least the negative ones.

It was a brand new Friday; different from the one lived just the week before. Although my routine hadn't altered that much, something was changed.

When I came into work there was a heated debate going on in the locker room. But the night manager Venus broke it up before things could turn violent. Several ladies were in different states of nudity, more were contouring, spraying, teasing hair, sharing secrets and telling lies. But the energy was an amphetamine, highly addictive and easy to surrender to. An arm wrapped around my shoulder. I jerked at the contact as I had been bent over sliding on my cowboy boot. Awkwardly arching my neck I saw it was Aisha. She was like a mom to me. Gave advice, listened to me vent about my classes and the lame professors who taught them. Yeah I was working on my masters in linguistics.

"You good?" she asked.

I stood up, pulled at the tiny pair of jean shorts that hugged my thighs. "I am."

"You seem jumpy."

"I just have this weird feeling tonight is either going to be very good or very bad."

"As long as tips aren't affected the night can be whatever it wants," Aisha spritzed perfume behind her ears.

"Right," I concurred.

A loud whistle interrupted our conversation.

"All right, ladies! Shut it up and gather around. We have a packed house tonight. Lulu who's performing has brought her entourage. Cue my eye roll. Make sure the bill is paid before a single one of their cheap asses walks out my door," Venus ordered. "If anyone is looking for free drinks there's a soup kitchen down the street."

Aisha and I looked at one another as I bit into my cheek to keep from laughing.

"Remember my three rules," Venus held up the corresponding fingers. "Be friendly, be prompt, and don't drink a single drop of booze on my floor. You're here to socialize and make the customers believe they have a shot, but this isn't a brothel or a frat house. Now, get out there and break some hearts, mend some hearts, and numb some hearts. Have a good night!"

Clapping our hands together we made our way to the main house as it was called, the heart of the bar. The music was loud and the emcee was hyping the crowd as we marched out like we were falling into formation.

This wasn't the Skull Bar where the clientele was composed of millennials or Mystic Grill that catered to families, but Nyx named after the Greek goddess of night. And it earned its reputation by staying open until four in the morning. Despite what Venus said, anything could go down here if you were discreet enough. The main attraction besides the strong liquor, hot wings, and local entertainment were us bartenders. Beautiful, fierce, talented, and entrepreneurs in the making.

One by one we were introduced. We climbed up on the raised bar and I took my spot at station one at the far end. Let the madness begin.

It was science, it was mathematics, it was psychology mixing brands of domestic and imported liqueur and appearing attentive. The transition from being ogled to being haggled for drinks was seamless. Flirting, refusing advances without being a downright bitch (only in extreme cases), calling out orders, filling orders, handing change, swiping cards, it was a never-ending processional of supply and demand. And it went on for hours.

My legs were aching as well as my feet and lower back, arms felt like noodles, but I kept going. A fifteen minute break around midnight I was sitting on the makeup counter in the employee bathroom airing out my toes while Key freshened up her makeup. My break was over in the time it took to sneeze, and I was back on the floor but no longer serving at the bar. We rotated sometimes, dubbing as waitresses or filling orders at the demi bar where trainees were sent until the owner Jaeger (no known last name) felt the new hires were ready to handle the volume at the Zeus bar. He had names for everything.

The bad/good feeling I experienced earlier, tripled as I moved through the crowd. At first I thought the cause for it was Jaeger. He was there in a black suit, seated in VIP, shades on, surrounded by people he wasn't talking to or looking at. Jaeger was like Eric Northman or exuded that aura. He never said much but so much could be said in a look from him. As I glanced at him it seemed he was looking straight at me, but with the shades on it was hard to tell. I smiled prettily anyways, and went back to trying to get the table of intoxicated thespians in the making to settle down long enough to tell me their poison.

With their order scribbled down, someone pinched my ass, someone else whistled, and yet another idiot offered to pay me a hundred to blow him, as I made my way to the demi bar.

"These dudes are jerks," Cheyenne complained as she whipped together drinks like a card dealer dealt cards.

I opened my mouth to respond but then I froze because I knew. I knew a piece of my past stood under this roof.

Spinning around, eyes narrowed I searched all four corners of the bar. My gaze went left from right and I had to do a double take.

The crash and the burn, the fall from heaven, the jarring sound of a cell door closing, weight was added to my shoulders.

"Jeremy?"

I blinked to make sure it was him. He flashed that boyish half grin that used to make my stomach flutter before lifting a hand in a casual wave.

"Who is that? He looks lost," Cheyenne commented.

"He's a…friend," I replied distractedly. "Can you get Tiff to take over my tables for a minute?" I was gone before I was even given an answer.

Jeremy met me halfway. A range of emotions fluttered through me, but it was too noisy in the bar for me to grasp on to a single one. There was a level of awkwardness because it had been four years since we've seen one another, and him being here I took as an omen. Omens were warnings of bad things to come. So this impromptu visit wasn't very inspirational.

Before I could even open my mouth to speak, Jeremy was pulling me forward into a hug. He smelled and felt the same but he was different. Everything was different.

"How did you find me?"

"I know some people."

No one knew where I was besides Caroline and she was under strict orders not to release that info to anybody. I didn't need anyone showing up on my porch asking for a damn thing. My entire purpose of starting over in another city was burying the past and pretending it never happened.

Jeremy held me out at arm's length. Being this close to him I saw there was a scar that curved from his ear to the corner of his jaw, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His clothes were simple but disheveled, boots scuffed, and I could tell he was strapped. Just what in hell was he doing in New Mexico? More importantly what the hell was he doing here?

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" Jeremy said.

I glanced around. I already had a break and wouldn't be permitted to take another, but there were ways of working around the system.

I had to stretch on my toes in order to yell into his ear. "Follow me."

I didn't know what this was about. Didn't have a good feeling about whatever Jeremy had to tell me, but more than likely he was here to get me involved in something I no longer partook of.

Nevertheless I led him to the main bar and, unfortunately, there weren't any seats available. So I had Jeremy wait at the very end of the bar far from the register and Venus' hawk eye. I grabbed a menu and handed it to Jeremy.

"Pretend to order something. Now what do you need to talk to me about?"

Jeremy flipped a page while covertly looking around. "First things first…how've you been?"

"Good. Moving on and working toward my goals. What about you?"

Jeremy wagged his head. "Too much I can't get into right now. I…it's good to see you, Bonnie."

"Likewise," I said but was unsure if I actually meant it.

The crowd swelled, and the heavy musky scent of intoxication clogged my lungs as I waited for Jeremy to get to the meat of the matter.

He pushed out a breath and said, "Matt called me about a week ago saying Elijah and Finn showed up in Mystic Falls."

"Finn? He's supposed to be dead!"

"I know. I don't even know how to explain that. Anyways, Matt was pretty much kidnapped and led into the woods, then knocked unconscious. When he came to, he was alone with two witches. From what he could gather…a new kind of vampire was created. One stronger than the Originals."

"O…kay…still not seeing what any of that has to do with why you're here."

A muscled flexed in Jeremy's jaw like the answer was rather obvious. "He wants doppelganger blood."

There was a pregnant pause as that…repetitive news was delivered. "Of course he does," I deadpanned.

Jeremy wasn't too pleased with my lackluster response, but that was the best he was going to get out of me. How many times had we been down this insipid road? So many it became the story of our lives, and I was done repeating it.

"Bonnie…I know it's been four years, but don't you see where this is going to go? Anyone tied to Elena is going to be hunted and tortured for the location of her body."

"Any witch can find her without the use of your blood, Jeremy if that's what you're worried about. Did you come here so I could hide you or something?"

"No," and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, nostrils flared. "I thought you should know considering your life is tied to my sister's. I'm worried about you."

"You don't need to be."

Jeremy scoffed. "With this new vampire walking around I think we all should be."

"Bonnie!" Venus barked. "Either get his number or take his order, but get back to work!"

"My boss," I hitched a thumb over my shoulder. "I need to do what she 'suggested'. I guess…thanks for cluing me in, but I've been off the grid for so long I wouldn't be surprised if people actually think I'm dead." Saying those words made my muscles tighten, but I shook it away. "Like you, I know how to handle myself."

"Bon…look I know he's with her."

If Jeremy expected a reaction out of me I was very happy to disappoint him. He searched my eyes trying to find a hint of the Bonnie who was so wounded and damaged that she turned to any source for comfort. What he got instead was the Bonnie who locked her heart behind in a dorm room in eastern Virginia.

I smiled ruefully. "You really need to work on your sales pitch, Jer. Fighting evil is no longer my life. I don't care what goes on with the Originals, and I sure as hell do not care about a punk ass vampire locking himself in a coffin because 'wah, life is too hard without my girlfriend'. I really need to get back to work. Excuse me."

Jeremy grabbed my wrist, "Bonnie…this is serious. Very serious. We can't ignore what could become a big fucking problem."

"What do you want me to do, Jeremy? We couldn't stop Katherine, the Originals, hell we could barely stop ourselves from being stupid. I'm not going to court trouble. You want my advice, find Elena and move her somewhere remote and try not to leave a paper trail."

With that I left and resumed feeling like a piece of meat for the drunken masses. Whatever Jeremy had hoped to accomplish by showing up here, I wouldn't give it more than a cursory thought. He lingered for ten minutes, helping himself to a beer, watching my every move before giving up and leaving.

By the end of the night I was three hundred dollars richer in tips, exhausted, and sweaty but unbothered. My fellow baristas saw one another to our respective cars. My steps slowed as I neared mine.

"I take it worked," asked the person using the hood of my Camaro for a place to rest their ass.

I waited a second before answering, digging the toe of my boot into the hard asphalt. "I told you it would. Never doubt a Bennett."

White teeth gleamed at me in a smile.

I returned that smile with a grin of my own.

A/N: Whom might Miss Bennett be talking to and what is she up to? I have a vague idea of where I'm going with this.