Hello beautiful readers! Gosh, I've missed writing for you all. I had to take a two week hiatus because of finals and graduation, but now that it's summer, I'm back in the game with this brand spanking new story.

This story is a bit different than my others because it contains little to no mystery and is mostly based on character development and relationship development. If you want mystery, you can check out my two other multi-chap fics which have PLENTY of it, but I really wanted to try something different this time around. This fic will also mostly be from Elena's POV, but I know at certain points I'm going to want to slip some Damon POV in as well.

Another note is the rating of this story. It is T, but if you can't handle M rated language, I recommend you not read this. I rated it T because I know how upset people can get when there's no direct smuttiness when they read an M fic. For right now, it's T rated and I don't plan on changing it unless there's a lot of requests for it to be moved up. Honestly, I suck at writing smut (go check out Walk Away if you want proof) and again, I'm trying something new, but if you all think it's that important for the story (or you're just desperate for it ;) ), then I might try to work something out. But for now: T.

Well, that's all I have to say up front. I'm not sure if this chapter will hook you all enough, but I do recommend staying on for at least the 2nd or 3rd chapter so you can understand more of the flow of the story before making your decision. I made this one a little longer to get in as much information as possible. I love you all and hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Words So Sweet

It was so easy and the words so sweet.
You can't remember, you try to move your feet.

Another day, another rejection call. Well, at least they called. Most companies neglected to even inform her that she was no longer being considered for the position. But that's how it worked in the big, bad real world. Especially living in Los Angeles. Your hopes and dreams were quickly eaten alive unless you were one of the lucky ones. And Elena Gilbert was far from lucky.

She crossed her legs, covered in tangerine skinny jeans, and leaned back into the black city bench she'd taken the call on. The woman on the other end had seemed nice enough, most likely a young girl just like Elena who would do anything to keep her job, including making those painful and awkward phone calls nobody else wanted to make. Elena had never actually gotten a rejection call from the person who'd interviewed her which had grown increasingly frustrating. She wanted to be able to ask what she'd done wrong, where she could improve. Instead, the only advice was to "keep trying" from a person who'd never laid eyes on her.

Elena had to shake it off though. She was on her way to another interview. She didn't know much about it, but she'd stopped being particular when it came to possible money-making options. She'd found it through Craigslist. The posting only stated that it was a freelance writing position that would take about six months. The only requirements were that they be one hundred percent committed to their job. There wasn't even a mention of previous writing experience. She'd called the number and been given an address and a time to arrive.

Elena checked her phone and realized she'd need to leave now if she wanted to make it in time. With all the interviews she'd done lately, she knew that lateness made the interviewer immediately write you off. Even if you were the greatest writer in the country, this ranked in some of the top interview fails.

Another was dressing wrong. You had to wear the right clothes for the right company. Elena had stopped wearing tight pencil skirts and severe conservative blouses to every interview. Sometimes the interviewer was a laidback surfer dude who was immediately turned off by any sort of influence "from the man." You had to go with your gut and make sure that you were dressed to impress.

This time, it had been a bit harder to guess exactly what to wear. The position listing itself had been so vague, she had no clue what she was going into. But in the past, all of the larger and more formal companies had much more detailed listings, so Elena had to assume that this one would be a bit more casual. In turn, she'd chosen a striped boatneck t-shirt and fabulous black wedge heels to go with the bold jeans.

As she approached the building, she dropped her phone into her black bag, making sure it was on silent. That was another interview fail: having your cell go off. Not too professional. The building was a completely white, modern building tucked in between shops on one of the main drags. Elena rarely spent anytime in this area, unless attending an interview so the street was only fairly familiar. The building had a white solid gate in front of it, blocking it from any outside strangers. She was about to press the buzzer on the side when suddenly the gate flew open, almost hitting Elena in the face.

A fuming blonde stomped out and let out a scream. It took her a few moments to calm down and finally notice Elena. When she did, the girl scanned Elena from head-to-toe and let out a bitter laugh.

"Oh, good luck honey. You're gonna need it." Elena realized the girl was making an insinuation based on her outfit. That was when Elena noticed what she was wearing. The blonde had a hot pink mini dress with a deep v-neckline and a bedazzled bodice. Accompanying the inappropriate dress were 5-inch platform heels. Was this girl serious? Elena was the one with the bad outfit? But maybe she knew something Elena didn't.

That moment was when Elena's heart began to beat wildly. Oh my god, she'd signed up for some creepy porn audition. That explained why the posting had been so vague. This was practically a Dateline episode waiting to happen. Young aspiring writer gets forced to take off her clothes and have sex on camera, when she thought it was a simple writing position. She was such an idiot. This day was turning worse and worse.

Elena was about to turn away when she heard the girl answer her phone. "What?" she shrieked into the phone. "No, I didn't get the writing position. He didn't like me." Elena paused, eavesdropping. Why would the girl still be referring to it as a writing job? "Yeah, well it was probably stupid of me to try when I have no writing experience. Whatever, he was an ass. Yeah, I'll meet you there in thirty. Later." The blonde dramatically tossed the phone into her purse and looked up at Elena.

"What's your problem?" She sneered. Elena blushed, realizing she must have been staring.

"I'm sorry," Elena apologized. She took a deep breath before asking her next question. "Is this job… legit? Like, is it a real writing position?"

The blonde stared at Elena as though she had horns growing out of her head. "Umm, yeah." She cocked her head. "Wait, do you not know?"

Elena shook her head, now thoroughly confused as to what she'd walked into.

"Oh my god, this is rich!" The girl began laughing hysterically, although Elena sensed a hint of that earlier bitterness. Most shockingly enough, the girl just kept walking. Elena stood there, awestruck by the events of the past few minutes. What in the hell was waiting for her inside that building?

But curiosity got the better of her. She was no longer terrified of the prospect that there was some perverted male fantasy awaiting her, but she was still anxious. For a girl who prided herself in knowing what to expect when it came to interviews, this one was blowing all of her expectations out of the water. Elena had always been curious (it came with her love of writing) and she could no longer just stand outside. Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the gate and walked through the small courtyard area to the door.

Once inside, Elena noted how the interior matched the exterior. All white with occasional pops of color, like the glass bowl of red apples and the lime green couch. The front area was small, only holding an equally white desk and one door that must have led to where she was being interviewed. There was a dark skinned brunette at the front counter who was rapidly typing at a keyboard on a white Mac.

"Elena Gilbert?" The receptionist spoke without glancing away from the screen.

"Yes?" Elena fought off the urge to say um, one of her worst habits. She didn't want to sound unprofessional.

"You may head on in to the conference room. They're waiting for you." At this point, she glanced up to regard Elena, waiting for her to leave.

"Thank you," Elena replied hesitatingly. She walked towards the door and slowly opened the door.

She was faced with a room with far more color than the stark waiting area. The walls were a dark burgundy and the floors were a tan hardwood. In fact, the only white thing she could spot was the giant white table in the middle of the room. The conference room was sparsely decorated and it seemed as though the room was incredibly impersonal. They must have rented the space out just to do interviews. Elena had been to a few of those.

What was most surprising were the two men sitting at the table. Although both were incredibly handsome, that wasn't what threw her. Living in LA, she'd seen her fair share of attractive people. In fact, it was growing increasingly more surprising to spot someone who was unattractive. No, the thing that was most surprising was their expressions. The one on the left, with dark black hair and bright blue eyes, was unabashedly staring at her as if she were a piece of meat while the other, a man with stubbly facial hair, was looking at her similarly to how the girl outside had, as though her skin were green.

"Umm, hi," Elena cursed herself immediately. Damn her and her nervous habits. "I'm Elena Gilbert." She walked towards where both men were sitting and offered her hand. The stubbly one was still stunned and the other let out a choked laugh. Elena flushed, embarrassed that both had basically ignored her gesture and she walked back to the chair closest to the door and sat down. This was already going miserably.

Both men were still just staring at her, neither offering to introduce themselves. Elena gulped. "I brought my portfolio if you would like to take a look at it." She slid the manila folder down towards the pair but they both offered the same reactions they had to her hand, a choked laugh and the stunned stare. Elena was absolutely lost as to what was going on. Never had she been in a situation as awkward as this. She wanted to just disappear.

Finally, Elena realized what her course of action would be. She didn't even want this job anymore. It was too strange. The sluttily dressed and spastic girl on the sidewalk. The rented out space. The two ridiculously quiet men staring at her. She couldn't take it anymore. Her frustration had been building up since the second she'd walked inside.

"Look, I understand I must have done something wrong." Her tone was harsh and bitter.
"But I would like to know what it is rather than be humiliated by your shameless gawking. I don't appreciate you dragging me down here just to mess with me. So please just tell me so I can be on my way."

Once again, the room was nearly silent and Elena was met with just another laugh from the dark haired man sitting at the head. Elena let out a growl of frustration. "Fine," she practically yelled. She harshly grabbed the portfolio off the table and tightened her grip on her bag, standing up. She headed to the door, but not before turning around and glancing back at the pair, neither of whom had made an effort to make her stay. "I hope you two find someone insane enough to fill this position, if there even is one." At that, she yanked the door open and let it slam shut behind her. She was greeted with the receptionist sharply lifting her head up and glaring at Elena. "Please don't slam the door," the girl said rudely.

Elena glared at her, but apologized quietly, marching out of the main door into the courtyard and making sure she didn't close the door as harshly that time. Unfortunately, some of her Southern manners were still stuck with her. This was turning into literally one of the worst days ever. Thankfully, it was a Friday and she could go home, get a glass of wine and rant to her roommate about the ridiculous experience she'd had. She knew one day it would most likely be a humorous experience, but right now all she wanted to do was pull a scene similar to the girl she'd run into at the gate.

But before she could escape, she heard the shout of a man behind her. She groaned. They wanted to talk to her now? She spun around, surprised to see the paler man, rather than the other. Granted this was the same one who'd barely glanced up from her ass when she'd been leaving.

"Well, look who's got a job," he grinned. He offered his hand, which she refused to take.

"What job?" she yelled exasperated. "I have no clue what the hell I just interviewed for, if that could even be considered an interview!"

The guy still had the cocky grin on his face, seemingly enjoying her outbursts. "The job is to write my autobiography."

Elena was now looking at him in a similar fashion as the other one had in the conference room. "You do understand what the root word auto- means, right?" His expression didn't change from the smirk. "It means self… as in self-written."

He laughed. "Sweetheart, it's called ghost writing. You get all the cash, I get all the credit."

She wasn't particularly thrown off by his statement. Cash was her first priority at the moment, and everyone in the professional writing circles would know she'd been the one to actually write it. Ghost writing got out pretty fast in the publishing world. She didn't particularly care about having the rest of the world know about her writing skills, at least not at the moment.

She crossed her arms across her chest. "What makes you so special that you deserve a book about you?"

Now it was his turn to be shocked by her statement. But he quickly covered it up with the perpetual smirk. "I'm Damon Salvatore." The way he said it was as if his name should bring trumpets and attractive girls bowing at his feet. But Elena had little to no recognition of it. She felt like she'd heard it before, but she couldn't place exactly where.

"And that means…" she asked, still trying to maintain her angry attitude.

He laughed again. "Oh, honey… somebody needs to do some research." He pulled out a pen from his back pocket and yanked the portfolio out of her arms before she could object. He flipped it open and scribbled a number on the sheet. "How about this? You go home, do some research, and then get in touch with me. Then we can discuss this job." Damon handed the portfolio back to her, dangling it in front of her face.

She didn't grab it immediately, not wanting him to win in any sense of the word. "What makes you think I want this job? Especially after what you just put me through."

"Well, I think, if you do some research, you'll see there are certain… incentives to working for me. But if you need one for the road…" At that, Damon flipped the portfolio back and scribbled something else underneath his phone number. He handed it back to her and she took it. But after looking at the number she almost dropped the folder on the ground in shock.

"Fifty thousand dollars?" She gasped. Most writers, especially ghost writers barely made thirty thousand a year, let alone just for one assignment. "Fifty thousand dollars to write your book?"

This time he laughed. "Darling, that's per week." Elena's heart stopped in her chest. Oh my god, was he shitting her? This was potentially a six month gig. Elena tried to calculate it in her head, but the numbers started to get way too big. Before she could say anything, they were interrupted by a similar bubbly and busty girl who was entering from the front gate. "Oh my gosh, Mr. Salvatore," she practically squealed. Elena desperately fought the urge to roll her eyes. But she was a little surprised that this girl automatically recognized him. "I heard the rumors but I didn't think-"

Damon cut her off. "Turn around sweetheart. We've already hired someone."

Elena twisted her head and saw the girl's shocked and disappointed expression. "Oh, alright, Mr. Salvatore. It was a pleasure meeting you." Damon didn't dignify her fangirling with a response, his gaze still locked on Elena. The girl looked crushed, but rushed out of the gate, barely concealing the rapid texting on her phone.

"That was a bit presumptuous, Mr. Salvatore," Elena spoke once she was gone. She'd calmed considerably after the original shock. "Considering I've yet to accept your offer."

Damon smiled. "First thing you should know for my biography: I'm a risk taker. Not that I consider this a risk. The second is that I can read people pretty damn well." He paused, regarding her with a leer. "That's why I know you'll take this job. And thirdly: I strongly dislike being called Mr. Salvatore. That's always been my father, and as far as being reminiscent of dear ol' dad, I'd like to stay as far away from that as possible."

Elena smirked. "I'll make sure to write down 'daddy-issues' as well."

Damon laughed. "Be careful, Ms. Gilbert. That offer can easily be revoked."

Elena bit her lip, still a bit shocked from the events of the past few minutes. "Goodbye, Damon."

"Can't wait to hear from you soon." He began to turn towards the door, but stopped to face her again. "By the way, if you attempt to sell my number online, I'll make sure you never get a job in the entirety of the writing industry. Is that clear?"

Elena gulped, a bit surprised by his force. "Of course," she spoke quietly. The thought had never even crossed her mind. Who the hell was this guy?

He stared at her for a few more moments before approaching her again and grasping her free hand. He lifted the back to his lips and kissed it. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Elena." With that, he pivoted on his heel and gracefully entered the building again.

What in the absolute fuck had she gotten herself into?

Once Elena was back at her apartment, she instantly felt her shoulders lower. She felt like she'd been holding her breath since Damon had approached her in the courtyard. But she could barely take a moment to consider his offer when her roommate Bonnie came bounding into the living area.

"Are you going to tell me now why you wanted me to look up Damon Salvatore?" she said exasperatedly. Elena had texted her on the bus ride back, asking for her friend to do some preliminary Googling, but all she'd gotten back was an all caps "Umm why?" and then about three more of the same after that.

"Who is he, Bonnie?" she asked, taking a deep breath. Sometimes her friend's stubborn persistence was a tad obnoxious.

"A huge freaking director, super famous, but I didn't have to Google anything to tell you that. Now tell me why you're asking."

Elena's breath caught in her throat. So he was a famous director. Damn, she really had gotten herself into a bigger deal than she'd originally thought. Thankfully, she'd be able to clear up some of the grey areas having a USC film student for a best friend.

"Like how big?" Elena asked, throwing her purse on the counter and plopping down on the couch.

"Like movie industry royalty. The Salvatores have been making movies since films were invented." Bonnie plopped down onto the couch, her retrieval system already in full force. Elena had never held a large interest in film so Bonnie wanted to take any chance she could in order to discuss her favorite subject and share her knowledge. "It's this crazy sort of generational thing. They've never had a flop or a dud movie, not them or their father or their father's father. It's practically impossible for them. Every single one seems to get better and better. Apparently, they have an entire room just for the Oscars they've won."

Elena scoffed. "That's insane."

"But it's true!" Bonnie replied indignantly. "You can take an entire course at USC just called Salvatore, analyzing their films and learning everything about them. It's always full in the first five minutes of registration so I've never been able to get in, unfortunately." Elena tried to hide her disappointment as Bonnie continued. "But you can barely be considered a film student if you don't know about the Originals."

"The Originals?" Elena asked.

"The Originals are a group of five directors who all have a similar film heritage. Damon and his brother Stefan, both directors. And then the three Michaelson brothers: Klaus, Elijah, and Kol. They're all surprisingly good friends, considering that their films are typically the ones to compete in all of the festivals for the top honors. Unfortunately, the Michaelsons have a bit more difficulty keeping the lid on their crazy personal lives. That typically hurts their movies so they don't have the same spotless no-flop record that the Salvatores do."

"So the Salvatore brothers are angels?" Elena asked doubtfully. Damon didn't seem so perfect earlier today.

"No, definitely not. They just have fabulous PR. The Originals always go on these elaborate trips together, planning it out so none of them are filming for like half the year and they just go batshit wild. Sex, drugs, drinks, you name it. The Michaelsons are always the ones to take it too far, but everyone's pretty sure that the Salvatores are equally as crazy."

Elena gulped. How in the hell could she write a decent biography for a guy whose main pastime was partying? He didn't seem to have much below the surface, but maybe his movies would shed some light on him. Elena was also uneasy about something else Bonnie had mentioned: the duration of these vacations. Didn't the posting say the job was six months long? Exactly what part of his life would she be documenting?

"Hello, earth to Elena!" Bonnie shouted, waving her hand in front of Elena's face. "Why do you look like you're about to puke all over the rug?"

"I met Damon Salvatore today," Elena said, practically feeling her face grow pale.

"Woah, back that up for a second," Bonnie replied. "You met the Damon Salvatore?" Elena nodded. "Of course!" Bonnie shot up from her seat. "My couldn't-give-two-shits-about-film roommate is the one to meet one of the most celebrate directors of all time."

"Bonnie," Elena said, feeling a bit guilty.

"Sorry." Bonnie ran her hands through her hair. "Well, let me live vicariously through you for a second. Tell me everything."

Elena took a deep breath. "I went in for this job interview, which was completely wacky by the way, and he offered me the job." Elena regarded her friend's expression and began to grow fearful about how shocked her face was turning.

"Umm, Bonnie? A response would be nice."

"Holy fuck, you're going to be an Original girl!" Bonnie screamed.

"What, an Original what?" Elena was now completely confused.

"An Original girl! Elena, did he ask you to write his biography?"

"His auto-biography," Elena laughed.

"Holy shit!"

"Bonnie! What do you know that I don't know?"

Bonnie had to take a few deep breaths to calm herself down before speaking. "All of the Originals have had biographies written about them. It doesn't make much sense given that they're so young, but with all of the films they've done, they all have enough to fill up a book. These guys hire girls, aspiring young writers like you, to write it for them. The media can never contact these girls for months at a time and then all of a sudden, there's a biography out. Then these girls blow up." At that, Bonnie began to rapidly type on her iPhone. "These girls get like mountains upon mountains of awards. One of them got a damn Pulitzer." Bonnie flipped her phone so Elena could see the Wikipedia page, highlighting all of the accolades the girls had garnered. "Every book the girls have written afterwards has become a bestseller. Fuck, Elena, how did you not know about them?"

Elena stared, mouth gaping at the screen. She knew these authors, heck, she'd read a few of their books, but she'd never known their history. Suddenly she heard Bonnie was still talking.

"Wait, what did you say?"

"I said that Damon is the only one who held off on the biography. Apparently like thousands of girls have been attempting to become his 'girl.' Holy fuck, my roommate is going to be an Original girl."

Elena threw the phone down on the couch, completely overwhelmed. She stood up, taking deep breaths as she went. "So you're telling me, that if I take this job, not only do I get the most ridiculous amount of cash I've ever seen in my life, but I get… this?" Elena motioned to the iPhone.

"Elena Gilbert," Bonnie replied. "You get the goddamn publishing world at your feet."

Elena could barely breathe. What in the hell had she just stepped into? She would have to readjust her view of how lucky she was because this was like picking the four-leaf clover of jobs. But Elena's cynical side was rearing its head.

"Wait a second, what's the catch?" Elena asked. "There's no way this is that flawless of an offer. There has to be something wrong with it."

Bonnie gulped nervously. "Well there is one catch, but I wouldn't necessarily call it a downside."

"Well, spit it out," Elena spoke nervously. She was not going to let her hopes get up.

"All of the Original girls… they typically get into relationships with the guys…"

"That does not mean I will." Elena felt a bit more at ease. At this point, she felt almost zero attraction to the man with the bright blue eyes.

"No, Elena, I mean… I don't think a girl has walked out of there without sleeping with them. I'm not sure you'd be getting your paycheck unless…"

Elena swallowed the lump in her throat. "…Unless I sleep with Damon Salvatore."

So? Was that hooking? That word doesn't really work. Did it make you want to keep reading? Or do you just want my computer to get into a large, all-consuming fire? Hahaha, let me know in the reviews and obviously let me know your opinions/theories/questions. Reviews are the life source for this story and I mean it when I say a review can make my entire day twenty times better. I'm not even kidding, I remember all of your usernames and just adore hearing from you, especially if you review every week. I'm so excited to start this summer with a brand new story and a group of fabulous readers both new and old.

love love love :) new update in a week if you all don't hate it!