The Founder’s Party wreaks of old money, all polished silverware, forced smiles, and the suffocating pride of old, secretive families. Music drifts lazily through the Lockwood estate while the town’s elite laugh over champagne beneath chandeliers older than half the people standing beneath them.

Beside you, Damon wears his charm with practised ease, dark suit immaculate, eyes sharp with the kind of restless focus that tells you he is only half paying attention to the event itself. The other half of his mind is mentally mapping the house already, chasing ghosts.

“You clean up nice,” Damon murmurs as he hands you a drink, gaze sliding over you with slow appreciation before the smirk appears, effortless and dangerous. “Almost makes me want to behave myself tonight.” The words are light, teasing in that familiar Damon way, but his attention keeps drifting toward the museum corridor beyond the ballroom, toward the locked wing of the manor where the old Founders keep their precious artefacts. Somewhere in there is the crystal Emily spoke of, the one needed to open that tomb that'll solve all his problems; Katherine. The thought of her hangs over him like a wound he keeps reopening just to prove it still hurts.

When the crowd swells around the dance floor, Damon’s fingers brush briefly against yours, subtle enough not to draw attention. “Come with me,” he says quietly, uncharacteristically serious. He guides you away from the music and into the quieter halls of the mansion, where portraits of long-dead Lockwoods stare down in judgment.

The further you go, the less Damon bothers pretending this is about the party at all. His expression sharpens, blue eyes scanning the displays with mounting impatience. “Funny thing about this town,” he muses, pushing open one of the doors with casual disregard for the rules. “Descendants always act like their ancestors.”

Then he glances at you, and for a fleeting second the swagger fades just enough for the desperation beneath it to show. “I need a crystal, and it's in this house.” Damon says softly, more honest than he has been all evening. “And if Katherine’s really down in that tomb...” He trails off, his gaze going distant for a split second before he snaps back into the present. “I just need that crystal.”