Being a stranger in a new town wasn’t easy. No one trusted you, and no one wanted to be your friend if you were too mysterious. Especially in a small and secretive town like Mystic Falls, where people didn’t know if you were here to stay or just stab them in the back.

And that’s why you were here, at the Mystic Grill’s bar, glass of Whiskey in front of yourself. The night had already fallen, and the place was almost empty. A couple was chatting in a booth, one man drinking his sorrow away a few seats away from you.

You were alone; utterly alone and bored, until you felt a presence on your side - a man, rather charming with the bluest of eyes you had ever saw. He gave you one side glance, not minding your presence before sitting two stool from you.

“Same as always.” He said with a smirk to the bartender and finally turned his head back to you, with more curiosity than before. He raised his eyebrows, scrutinising you from head to toe.

A glass of Bourbon was slid in front of him and the bartender walked away; probably wanting to be out from here. The stranger took a sip in silence before you heard his voice again.

“You’re new here,” it wasn’t a question. “I’m curious as to why you decided to stay in little Mystic Fall, uh? It’s not the most exciting town ever.” he asked you, like your business was his own.