5. Five
"Nik! Over here!"
It took Klaus Mikaelson a moment or two as well as lowering the dark shades he wore on his face to properly identify the frantic hand waving at him from the distance. It belonged to his younger sister Rebekah, and not – as he had feared – a shrill fan, boldly attempting to lay claim to the actor, daring to summon him with a diminutive reserved for the few and favoured.
Rebekah for the most part was favoured by 'Nik', however the relief he felt seeing her stood there was short-lived.
"Wonderful." He muttered under his breath, refusing to grace the beaming blonde with the warm smile she wore for him. He knew the bubbling dissatisfaction he felt shouldn't be levelled directly at Rebekah, nor was it strictly personal, yet Klaus couldn't help it.
Two hours.
That's how long Klaus spent in furious debate with himself. Two hours, agonising over what to do, what to say, or how to even act around a brother nowhere to be seen. Rebekah being there made no difference; Elijah's empty space and those two hours would haunt him.
An icy anger gripped Klaus's entire body. It woke him instantly, in a fashion the blazing L.A. sun simply failed to. No longer preoccupied battling the symptoms of sleep deprivation and the strong spirits he consumed the night before, nor bogged down by fanciful ideas of reconciliation with a man now quite possibly dead to him – a grim, sober Klaus approached his sister.
Rebekah appeared to be fresh faced and full energy but did not get up from her table to meet him. As he made the long walk, Klaus noted the width of the embellished cream sun hat carefully balanced on her golden head and the stares she received from the rest of the restaurant patrons. People on this side of the city were more than used to glimpses of the rich and famous, yet most A-listers would try to fit in, come incognito as he had. Rebekah's attire on the other hand was far more suited to a day out at the Royal Ascot than a simple Californian lunch.
"Darling brother." She sang to an accompaniment of rustling earrings more windchimes than sensible jewellery, then kissed the air around his cheeks with rose tinted lips to remind Klaus how, like most Mikaelsons, his sister simply didn't do simple.
If he had been hoping for some much-needed anonymity, he knew was robbed of it the moment he saw it wasn't Elijah meeting him.
When Klaus took his seat, he put his shades back on and poured himself a glass of water. The sun was too bright out here in the garden, and he nursed a migraine. The throbbing under his temple, a consequence of a conspiracy conjured up between liquor, laxed boundaries and the lovely Ms. Bennett. An evening with an ending, Klaus had only one major regret about.
He inhaled deeply and prepared himself for the mandatory snap Rebekah would take to post across her social media.
She's your family, he told himself as he so often did.
Always and forever.
Picture taken, Klaus began to broach the subject on his mind, the glaring elephant missing from the room.
"I see our Elijah has taken to becoming an oath-breaker."
Sipping comfortably on her mandarin mimosa, Rebekah rolled her eyes swiftly.
"Oh, stop it Nik. You mustn't take it personally!
"He couldn't make it that is all. Work stuff."
"And say now sister – this pressing matter Elijah had to so urgently attend to – it in no way failed to prevent him from contacting you as it did me?" Klaus put to his sister dryly. "How odd."
Rebekah responded with a pearly smile. "I told him he needn't bother and that I'd be happy to pass along his apologies for him."
"Of course you did! Such self-sacrifice to forgo the many other plans you must've had. All to do Elijah's bidding." Klaus countered with a mocking smile of his own, refusing to buy into Rebekah's laughable tall tale of sudden filial obedience.
He watched as an exhausted look spread over his sister's face.
"You really intend on making this into something it's not."
"Why can't you just be pleased to see me Nik?"
"I always am." Klaus promised aiming for sincerity but unable to stop himself before adding. "No matter how curious the circumstances."
Rebekah seemed unconvinced. "It's been an age since you bothered to come round to mine. I could kick up a fuss about that. But I'm not, am I?"
Klaus raised an eyebrow wondering how it was that Rebekah managed to turn the tables so expertly and each time paint him the villain in the family. Doe eyed and downcast she continued to appeal to him to bury the unpleasantness.
"I just wanted to have a meal with my brother."
"As did I." Klaus fired back brusquely and unmoved.
"Good grief. Fine!" Rebekah said, acquiescing with a tired sigh. "He's feeling a little sore Nik. There you have it, the grand conspiracy in its entirety! He'll call you – eventually. Like he always he does."
"Meanwhile, you alright settling for little old me?"
Klaus let his bitterness subside. "Dearest Rebekah, you know very well I would gladly trade a thousand souls for a second of your company."
The warmth in Klaus's voice managed to coax the subtlest of smiles from his sister.
"Gosh, you even said it like you meant it." Rebekah replied, her bruised ego not ready yet to let him off the hook completely. In response, Klaus simply tapped on his right cheek and grinned as Rebekah – sweet predictable Rebekah, leaned in to kiss it properly this time. The sticky residue of lip gloss and ringing reprise of her earrings signalled a reset. Her grace (or more accurately – his reprieve), successfully rescued their rendezvous from turning into another full-blown row.
"Can we eat now? If you don't mind, I already ordered for us."
Accepting the peace offering, Klaus watched as Rebekah flicked her fingers to call over a server ready with their food – a selection of dishes off the brunch menu. A monstrous combination of sweet and savoury foods that had no business sharing a table. However, as Klaus took his first bite of syrup soaked French toast, he was unable to shake the feeling that the spread laid out before him was bait.
"How have you been Rebekah? In good spirits I hope." He inquired, perfectly polite but digging nonetheless as any Mikaelson would.
"Great."
"And how long will you be here for?" He continued.
It had been sometime since he'd last seen her in L.A. Having outgrown her old stomping ground, Rebekah ventured east for a period, settling in New York. Klaus was hardly pleased with her decision to practically abandon him, but as she reminded him so often, he had no means to compel her to stay by his side.
"I fly back to Miami next week."
"Miami?" Klaus repeated, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. What was his sister doing in Miami? Steady and slow in finishing the mouthful of fruit salad she'd just taken, Rebekah answered without blinking.
"Yes."
"Accompanied by the latest someone I suppose." Klaus said, his focus returned to cutting up the food on his plate. "Generous with their promises but frugal when fulfilling any of them."
"This season's glorified high-school jock." He added with a sneer that knew would get to Rebekah.
"Matt Donovan was a star running back." She said but reluctant, beyond that singular sentence, to rehash a conversation the siblings had countless times before. Except, this time, there was a noticeable difference in how she spoke about her latest lover and it bothered Klaus enough to comment on it.
"Was?"
He was met with silence.
"Did the nitwit blow out his knee? Do say you flew all the way here to gift me this joyous news."
"No actually." Rebekah said quietly picking at the food before her. "We broke up."
"You broke up?"
"Why am I not surprised." Klaus said feeling quite opposite. "You ditch your duties to be with this small-town bum and you don't even have the decency to make it through to the end of the year."
"I would never ditch you Nik." Rebekah said before admitting in quite a bitter voice. "God knows I ought to."
Stunned and wordless, Klaus examined the hurt his ears picked up. His feelings regarding his sister's relationship with the New York Giants player were quite known by everyone, so there really was no need to revisit the ghastly topic. Especially now Rebekah saw the light and returned to his side.
"It's his loss." Klaus decided, picking up his glass of water for a toast. "Those concussions must've severely scrambled the last of his brain cells if he thinks he can do better than you."
"Good riddance I say."
Glasses did not clink, and Klaus was left hanging but the fresh smile fixed on Rebekah Mikaelson's gloomy face was deemed a good enough compromise by both siblings.
"You're adorable Nik." Rebekah said making it hard for Klaus to mask the glimmering affection he held for her behind all that glowering Matt Donovan hate.
"Anyway," His sister continued, ready to change the subject. "I'm not seeing anyone right now and I haven't for a while."
"I've decided to focus on myself. And my career. I'm working on some interesting new projects I have a feeling will really pay off."
"I have every faith they will." Klaus agreed, but knowing it didn't matter since his sister had enough of their father's fortune to keep her fed for several lifetimes.
He, on the other hand, was left with a tidy little sum of exactly zero. Mikael made it quite discernible to anyone with eyes that his sons would always come second to his beloved daughters Freya and Rebekah. And as Klaus found out some years ago due to an indiscretion on their mother's part, he could no longer continue to count himself even among Mikael's runners up.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Bonnie's soft voice admitted when he let slip his secret.
She reached out to comfort him and he let her.
Both drunk and a little daring, she placed her hand on his face and he, feeling dizzy with desire closed his eyes to soak in the warmth better. The last thing he saw, the dark stars dancing in her eyes.
"That's the point of a secrets love." He said mirroring her softness, dying to make amends for his harshness earlier.
"They are not meant to be known."
When he opened his eyes again, there was a dark shadow, grim and foreboding, cast over her face. Still eyes instead of stars and a terrible iciness. It looked foreign on such a warm face, yet every bit as comforting as warm hands to a man used to much harsher winds and colder climates.
Drawn to her and that terribleness, Klaus moved closer, then covered her small smooth hand with his own more worn ones.
"Yours need not haunt you as mine have."
"I have every faith too." Rebekah chirped, pulling Klaus out of his head and back into his seat.
Sat before him was the little girl he always knew, none the wiser of the shameful secrets her mother buried and keen to keep her that way, Klaus pushed the conversation along.
"And when they do work out sister, forward me a permanent address. Perhaps then your invitations to lunch won't keep getting so easily lost."
"Cute." His sister replied not rising to the slight. "But the truth is, I might be coming home. Soon."
"Really?" Interest peaked, Klaus paused his meal.
"Anything to do with these interesting projects shrouded in such secrecy?"
There was a ghost of a question on his lips and Klaus knew he best not give it life.
He disliked Donovan; the man that came before however, was loathed almost as much as he were loved by Klaus.
"Well brother, you'll have to wait and see." Rebekah simply replied grinning and excited and inadvertently relieving her brother of any anxiety he may have begun to feel as to the possibility of Rebekah returning to a romance he expressly forbade.
Even so, Klaus's own smile never quite felt as easy as his sister's and so when he raised his glass to once again toast her, exclaiming; "To hitched breaths and spinetingling anticipation then" only one of them knew what he truly meant.
The rest of the meal looked to be a fairly quiet affair. Rebekah babbled on happily about her most recent exploits, a reality TV show pilot that may or may not be picked up. Although Klaus figured it would most definitely be the latter, he nonetheless continued to amuse his sister with the platitudes she always desired to hear but was nearly always denied. There was no harm in it; earn some good will, remind her of how good they could be together without the tiresome procession of paramours coming between them.
Still, his sister showed no intention of revisiting the mysterious enterprise she gleefully teased at the start of their meal. When the bill came, and Rebekah made a grab for it declaring today's get-together to be her treat, Klaus felt his suspicions resurface instead.
"Exactly how lucrative is this secret project of yours?" Klaus asked waving away the waiter. They weren't done here. "Care to share the details or just the wealth sister?"
Rebekah breezed by the interrogative tone with a shrewd smile ready to pounce on the segue she'd been waiting for.
"Ah, speaking of secrecy! I've noticed you've decidedly kept mum about your latest tryst."
"Not much point Nik, I have web alerts on all of us."
"Every so often, when things are going swimmingly as they are now, I find myself wondering if – by chance – I may have unlocked the answer to Rebekah Speak. But then you go ahead and throw a spanner in the work with more nonsense for me to decipher."
Rebekah answered his challenge by pulling out her phone immediately and on the screen was a webpage she'd clearly readied for him.
"Your little Cinderella."
Being waved in front of Klaus's face – a side by side shot of Bonnie and him. The first image showed their botched escape plan during the party; the second, the two of them finally parting just a few hours ago.
Frowning, Klaus took the device into his own hands for a closer look.
He knew there may be a couple of snaps out there, but he had greatly underestimated the paparazzi and their commitment to plaguing his life. They must've camped outside the building for the entire night, eagle eyes fixed on every A-lister in town counted the heads of guests leaving the party then deduced Bonnie Bennett hadn't been one them.
"There are a dozen or so more." Rebekah piped helpfully, a puckish grin plastered on her face at the prospect at having caught Klaus red-handed. "Different angles, same story. Cindy over here, leaving your place rather conspicuously at seven in the morning. Still wearing her gown from the ball."
"Left behind a little more than a glass slipper, did she?"
"Don't be so crass." Klaus snapped before preparing a far more measured response. "You have bad information Rebekah. I am not sexually involved with Ms. Bennett."
"She's…a friend."
Friend, such an odd descriptor for what transpired between them he thought, one Rebekah didn't seem to buy either.
"Ah yes, because you're so friendly Nik."
Arms folded, Klaus sat in cold silence, determined not to dignify his sister's accusations with a response.
"Well if that's the story you insist on sticking with you'd best find a way to tell the rest of the world that." Rebekah suggested, languidly flicking through the photos on her phone.
"From now on out, expect the sound of a million and one camera lens shutters welcoming you both wherever you go."
"Fucking fantastic." Klaus cursed, breaking his impassive act with the quiet anger of a man ready to pull his own hair out.
His sister, however, went on to paint a sunnier picture.
"Klaus Mikaelson, taken!" She said her right hand suddenly shooting forward, fingers splayed and gesturing at an imaginary headline above Klaus's head. "I can imagine the covers, all of them! Such crossover potential in terms of the demographics interested in this."
"I really am green with envy Nik." Rebekah wept but her sullen expression had little time to settle as Klaus could see lightbulbs go off behind those baby blues of hers.
"Maybe I should call my new sister and welcome her to the family. A night out, the three of us!"
Watching his sister's face come to life at a thought that made his stomach sink was enough to spur Klaus into action. This needed to end. Now.
"For the last time Rebekah," He began, kneading his temples with his fingertips "I'm the surly singleton you've always known. Do not give them any additional fodder."
"I mean it."
The last line Klaus uttered was a threat and pointedly so, yet Rebekah's enthusiasm for his love life only waned slightly.
"You're not the least bit interested in her then? Romantically?"
"She's an interesting person but no." He said bluntly while struggling to push out of his mind two distinct sensations from that night, both of which stayed with him. The electric current pulsating from Bonnie's thigh, pressed hotly against his own as they sat for a while; and the way she flinched when he made a move to touch it – disconnecting in a harsh instant.
The empty space she left behind stunned Klaus like a taser directing ice instead of fire; a coldness so frightening, the thought still smarts his far too thin skin the morning after.
He couldn't bear to feel it again.
"Pity." Said Rebekah, ready to believe her brother's words more than he himself could.
"She seems rather charming and would've done wonders to soften up your image."
His image. Klaus stiffened, him, being a thing one recoils from.
Unable to trust himself to speak above a whisper, he answered his sister in one slow breath.
"And what pray tell, is so abhorrent about my very notion that it requires swift course correction in the form of arm candy."
"Oh Nik." Rebekah clucked in a manner Klaus could only find condescending. "You're beautiful, brilliant and so boneheaded about celebrity."
"As a fellow actress, I keep telling you how vital it is to foster the most marketable and durable brand possible. They don't teach you that at LAMDA or Yale."
A sudden stream of violent anger coursed through Klaus's veins. That presumptuousness she wore evoked the image of another smug sibling, one he should've cut down when he had the chance last night.
"Oh but of course, the infallible Brand Beks. Built on numerous photos of frankly borderline pornographic nature, others just filthily and explicitly so." Klaus hissed, his vehemence for his sister intensifying. "Disconcerting club appearances across the land and a minor guest appearance or two on whatever reality nonsense that's gripping the nation at this exact moment."
"You've really perfected your craft sister. Teach me."
Instead of a rueful expression, indignant tears shimmered at Rebekah's defiant eyes.
"You may look down on me now Nik, but you know I'm right. People may respect you and your fancy education, but they love me. To them I'm a person they know. Someone they can lunch with."
What exactly did she hope to achieve, drawing attention to how it was she ended up filling a seat meant for another? Oblivious to thin ice she was skating on, Rebekah continued to reprimand him. She had been imbrued with a remarkable amount of confidence Klaus could only ascribe to her foolish desire to be like Elijah. Be promoted from the mere stand-in.
Another spike of anger and Klaus made up his mind. He would oblige her wish to be like their blasted brother and send them both to Coventry.
Rebekah took advantage of the quiet and went on.
"You're just end credits and a couple of rave reviews. You never shine during the press junket and God forbid anyone see you crack a smile on a late-night show sofa."
"It hasn't held me back." He said flatly, the grip on his cutlery tightening. Despite all of Rebekah's faults, bearing grudges against her siblings weren't one of them and by her speaking so freely, Klaus knew she had no idea exactly how many he was filing in his mind against her.
"No, it hasn't." She admitted unable to deny his success. "But cracks are beginning to show."
"Especially with all that happened recently."
He had heard enough.
Klaus slammed down his fist, his anger no longer concealed or manageable.
"I bloody knew it!" He growled pointing his bread knife at his sister.
"Elijah put you up to this. You're not nearly smart enough to come up with this change-your-ways-Christmas-Ghosts trite on your own."
"Niklaus Mikaelson calling me names? Wow, so unexpected." Rebekah coolly retorted at his outburst. Her bravery however was clearly an act. His sister's arms, like rubber bands, had snapped back to her side almost immediately after his fist caused the tableware to tremble. Now her whole body was carefully tucked behind the slab that kept a snarling Klaus at bay, Rebekah cleared her throat and proceeded to explain herself.
"Your mistrust is totally misdirected." She said in her defence, her voice full of anguish at how Klaus insisted on treating her yet unable to admit it was of her own making. Unlike his far too soft sister, Klaus Mikaelson knew what actual abuse and injustice looked like.
"Yes, I did speak to Elijah, but he refused to divulge any meaningful information about what drama you two decided to cook up without me."
"But it's clear as day now." She added, head held high, breathing heavily. "I don't need to be a genius to see your well on your way to self-destructing like Kol did."
Klaus settled back in his chair, dropped his cutlery and lowered his tone.
"Kol is fine." He said simply, no trace of rage left on his face.
His emotions may have dissipated upon release, but Rebekah's had not.
"Is he now?" She questioned, "And how would you define fine, brother?"
"He's clean." Klaus offered. "He's alive." He tried again, after realising that it had been some time since he'd seen his little brother and therefore unable to verify the truth of his earlier statement.
Suddenly he found himself unable to look his sister in the eye and yet unable to block out her scathing laugh.
"Yes, alive! To be what exactly? Lonely, miserable and hurting from the category seven destruction he left in his wake?"
"I do not see you by his bedside Rebekah so just spare me your indignation." Klaus replied, he found her hypocrisy unbearable. He wasn't the only Mikaelson to have tired of Kol's drama and he was happy to remind her of that fact.
Addiction is a disease, Klaus acknowledged this, but young Kol's problems began years before the first needle. He set out on a road that nearly came to a close with a disastrous a car wreck which almost claimed the life of his girlfriend and labelmate, Davina Claire. Ms. Claire survived but miscarried a child Kol never told any of his siblings about yet found perfectly acceptable to lay blame of its death at their feet nonetheless. The absent family he should've been able to call upon before getting behind the wheel.
"He might appear well but we both know he'll never be the same." Rebekah said, her voice was far gentler now and when Klaus met her eyes, he saw a flicker of concern he didn't care to recognise.
"So your suggestion is, I settle down with a virtual stranger to avoid the temptation of hard drugs?" Klaus last saw his troubled younger brother at a treatment centre in San Francisco, working on material for his latest album, no doubt fuelled by those painful events. An album Klaus knew would do little to fill the Davina-shaped hole in Kol's life with anything other than radio plays, a mountain of cash and critic's list mentions. All of which are things Klaus couldn't understand why they shouldn't bring his brother gratification without judgement from the rest of the world.
"Or will the retweets and likes nourish my soul? Save it from self-imposed damnation." He continued on, challenging his sister. "Or are you, naïve enough to think that true love is to be found in this town full of charlatans and sham marriages?"
Nothing from Rebekah, just a cruel cackle from him to break up the insults he happily hurled at her.
"Do tell me sister," Klaus sneered, ready to finish off his sister and her pipedreams about finding authentic happiness in this god-awful world. "How was your appearance on Millionaire Matchmaker and Celebrities go Dating. A fruitful enterprise?"
"Plenty actually." Rebekah responded finally, the artificial lightness in her voice unable to mask the fierce upset his words had caused. "I'm playing the game."
"No." Klaus growled before adding in a lower tone. "You just think you are."
"You're not a player Rebekah. Oh no, you're far too sentimental for that." He said with a particularly nasty grin and a song in his voice. "Ask your Homecoming King."
Klaus let out a false gasp at his own behaviour, delighting in the extra mile he could go just to further mock the devastated woman sat before him. He then watched the tears (held back for a record time) begin their descent and looked on intently at the thick, wet drops mixing in with the dark inky mascara as they muddied up the snowy skin they rolled down.
He had brought her to heel, the same way he had so many times before, she wouldn't dare respond now.
After a deep breath, Rebekah did just that – dare.
"If you think I'm a just vacuous reality star it's because I let you Nik."
"I know you and Elijah like to pretend otherwise, but I leaked those pictures of me. The Mikaelson's little Shirley Temple grew up to flash her tits on the internet for likes. And retweets. What of it?"
Her voice quaked with emotion but she, herself appeared still.
"And the men you sneer at Nik? The ones lucky enough to parade me around know they're placeholders for the real thing – if you would ever let me have what I wanted."
Klaus's eyes flashed wide at her boldness.
"Bring up that accursed name and I'm gone." He barely managed to say through clenched teeth.
"I won't warn you again sister."
His poor foolish sister wouldn't know real if it hit her in the eye; he was convinced the ample cushioning from those fake lashes blinded Rebekah to the betrayal he felt at the hands of Marcel Gerard. It wasn't an exaggeration when Klaus told her, he'd rather see her pretty little throat slit than stand by as Judas shoved his honeyed tongue down it to spite Klaus – the man who loved him first.
"There is no point is there." Rebekah said in sorrowful agreement. It was a jarring topic even for the Mikaelsons who as it stood had plenty of other sore points and scabs to pick at.
He watched as Rebekah wiped the tears on her face until dry. She was hardly presentable but that didn't seem to be the point. Denying him was. When she finally spoke again there was an unfamiliar resolve to her tone.
"An opportunity presented itself to you Nik."
"A way to transform."
His sister, for a final time, pulled up a picture of Bonnie Bennett on her phone screen. It was a new one he hadn't seen before. The tagline read Bonnie was being honoured with a Trevor Hero Award for her work on growing youth representation of LGBT characters and mental health issues on television.
It was a striking image, Bonnie's humbled face framed by a head of wild brown curls he'd been dying to see. Her smile, brighter than the halo of directed light she stood under, was made to seem only brighter by the soft beige of the cropped top she wore. She approached the podium, confidently, in a pair of sparkling gold heels and a long, airy yet brilliantly red skirt following her like the train of a wedding dress.
"She's a stone's throw away from being a Disney princess. The all-American sweetheart. Personable, pretty, and plenty experienced at managing her image."
Klaus felt a painful lump in his throat at seeing the adoring faces at bottom of the picture, watching on as Bonnie claimed her award. Stood in the wings of the podium was Alaric Saltzman, chest swollen with pride, the man whose invisible hand wrote the fairy-tale Rebekah'd become so enchanted with. A man Klaus knew would, without the slightest hesitation, take an axe to any wolf should they get any ideas of luring little Red off the path he imagined for her.
And yet where had Saltzman been? The day Bonnie Bennett refused to speak of, despite all of Klaus's efforts. The day she hinted another monster made his move. A monster, Klaus saw perched prettily, front row in this picture – leering at Saltzman's protégé with eyes the size of saucers. Kai Parker's guileful grin was empty of any real emotion other than a thundering hunger Klaus could resonate with all too well and left him with a feeling opposite to what his sister intended.
"So dear brother, I suggest you do yourself a favour and use whatever ammunition you can against the papers and find a way to convince Bonnie she needs you too."
"Or what Rebekah? You'll help me take some nudes?"
Her voice had finally snapped Klaus out of his daze, only for his bite to be more vicious than ever before. But as soon as he spoke, Klaus knew he drew blood from Rebekah Mikaelson for the last time, for there was no brutality left for her well-beaten body to bear.
"Or, you'll end up exactly where you're so desperately, and with such unnecessary nastiness, trying to convince the people closest to you you've always belonged –" She said, the furious words she uttered a threat and pointedly so.
"A loveless leper Nik."
And then she was gone, abandoning him again but not before turning a final time to see her cruel brother be swept up by a wave of whispers of those who had watched them from the side lines. The world, wondering what story the scandalous, hateful Niklaus Mikaelson was at the centre of this time.
He wanted to chase after Rebekah, rip that silly hat she wore off her head and drag her back – kicking and screaming – to stay and face the whispers too. She'd proven herself every bit as hateful as he. Instead, Klaus slowly reached for his shades and hid as best he could.
Once they were sat on his nose, he relaxed a little in his seat and shut the troubled eyes concealed behind them. Despite costing a pretty penny, they were ill-equipped to shield the rest of him from the glare of gossipers.
It wasn't lost on Klaus. How any other man would've gotten up and left too. Arms crossed, settled into his chair, with no other company than the fiction of this middling mister, a man unable to deal with the insanity of infamy, Klaus resoundingly made up his mind – his imaginary friend would be a lesser man for it.
His glasses continued to their job as best they could, for now they were not only providing cover for the looks but also the aching truth Rebekah left him with, before it began to sting at his tired eyes. He was utterly alone. A devastating distance dealt by a blow from so long ago. His mother's parting gift. Details of which he couldn't share with those he held dearest; not without shining a harsh spotlight on a truth that could poison them against him, worse than it had his father.
They hated him. His siblings, all of them, including sweet Rebekah.
They hated him and did not know why.
But wasn't that the point of secrets, Klaus told himself as he had told a beautifully sad Bonnie Bennett last night.
He was never meant to be known, let alone loved.