Havana didn't know what time it was. Or why she was suddenly awake. Thankfully, the window by the desk hinted that the sun no longer shined in this hour. She rolled onto her back and sighed silently replaying the events of today in her head. Only a few memories were made today, yet they were dramatic. After the gang's little meeting this morning, Havana marched upstairs, slammed the door, and began drinking herself to sleep in the comfort of Damon's own room. That's the only place she felt safe enough to cry. Because she knew that he would give her space and will block anyone who dares try to come in. Another reason why this unlikely pair became best friends. They share the same personality; the humor with Damon being the king of sarcastic remarks whereas Havana being the queen of sassy comebacks, crazy fun shenanigans that always ends in trouble, the love for alcoholic beverages and the pain. Oh yes, the pain. The pain of their hearts bleeding for someone while being ripped into a million pieces is what binds these two together. Damon and Havana hardly spoke about this topic nor even try to bring it up but they knew from the second they saw each others' broken smiles that they would truly understand each other. Oh no, the tears are threatening to fall down Havana's eyes. Honestly, she was exhausted by crying. She may have just woken up just a few minutes but her energy belonged to a person who hadn't slept for days. Her broken heart torn open and became a fresh wound again. So fresh that Havana had the urge to bang her head against the wall whenever she thought of the bastard. So she reached for the nearest bottle. Fuck, empty. Now another one. Empty. And other, empty again, are you kidding me?

A wave of nausea came over Havana, her stomach also started to rumble. It only took half a second for her to throw her pillow onto the floor and rip the sheets covering her body before dragging her feet to the bathroom as quickly as possible. The puke made its way in the toilet bowl just on time. Havana knelt in front of the toilet gripping each side of the white toilet seat. Thankfully, her hair was already up in a messy bun, so she didn't have to worry about her puke going to her hair. Still, she felt terrible. Even after vomiting, she clutched her stomach in bed. Using both of her arms, she pushed herself up. The alcohol effect was still taking a toll on her. It took a lot of effort for her not to take a tumble on the bathroom floor. "Whatever at least I got it over with." She mumbled staring at the green-colored liquid in the toilet before flushing it.

Havana turned back to open the door and leave. That was a mistake. She jumped a little frightened by the creature staring back at her. Its hair was oily and looked like it hasn't been washed in ages, dark circles around the eyes made it look like it was a human-sized raccoon and its oversized T-shirt full of both alcohol and chips stains screamed 'get away from this mess!' to any passers-by. Havana looked down, her exhausted appearance heightened the pain within her.

She flopped down the pain and stared at the ceiling yet again. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Shame. Then another tear followed. Ignorant. And another. Blind. Those three words were repeated in her mind. The feeling of self-worth felt long gone within her. Stupid. She scoffed while another tear made its way to her chin. She was crying over a boy and feeling things that she should not allow herself to feel. But the hole in her chest was too big, too painful, and too fresh for her to mask with a smile. All she ever knew about in the best four years of her life was a lie. She was just a mere pawn, ready to get tossed aside once his game ended.

Havana still dreamt of Klaus. All the spontaneous midnight walks, swimming in private properties and all their other adventures remain glued in her head. Sometimes, Havana daydreams about what could've been or a reconciliation. She imaged a life with him; meeting the rest of his family, marriage, children, spending eternity together. But she could never have that. Always and forever. Despite her fear that one day he would find her, she never stopped loving the blue-eyed man who captured her heart from the very start. A few droplets of tears were no longer sliding down on Havana's face. She was crying her heart out and choking in her sobs. Again.

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"Havana, you need to wake up." The sound of Damon's voice made the brown-haired girl's eyes flutter open. He was gently shaking her. After her vision adjusted to the brightness, she noticed him sitting on the edge of the bed where she lay. Correction: his bed. Havana hasn't left Damon's room in weeks. Only to go to the bathroom, get some more food, or refill the empty bottles of tequila on the floor. "You need to get up."

"What time is it?" Her groggy voice answered instead of listening to his previous statement.

Damon didn't even check the time, "It's half-past twelve."

Havana's face twisted "It's too early! Leave me alone you blue-eyed devil." Her head flopped back to the pillow. The alcohol was still in her system and she needed to sleep it off. Damon had enough of this. Standing up, he pulled the blanket to the ground making Havana sit up and gasp. "What the hell?!"

"I'm sick of this! Of your attitude! You're not the Havana I used to know. You're just a drunk who runs away from her problems! We're worried sick." Havana didn't need to ask if Damon was referring her friends and cousins as 'we'.

"WOW DAMON. Look who's talking Mr. I Love Switching Off my emotions! Practice what you preach and leave me alone!" Her loud tone matched his equally pissed off one. She could not believe the sings Damon was saying to her in this very sensitive time. "I thought you were my best friend."

"Best friends don't let them follow the bad in them!" He raised his hands up clearly frustrated "That's why I'm forcing out of you in this bed right now and ignoring every mean thing you say about me because I know you don't mean it. I know you've hurt Havana. It sucks, I felt that way too for nearly a century if I might add. And it will continue to suck tomorrow, and the day after that, then after that and so on! But as each day passes, the level of suckiness you may feel will get less and less until pretty soon you won't feel it anymore. And this unfortunate experience of yours will just be another life lesson. So please get out of that damn bed and get to work before you get fired for not showing up."

Havana stayed quiet. Deep down, she knew he was right, and that was the best advice she was ever given during her time of grief. Caroline's 'break-up movie binge list', Bonnie's voodoo doll suggestion, and Elena's talks about degrading Klaus for being a user was no help at all to Havana. "Screw you, Damon!" The alcohol yelled for her. But Damon's lips twitched into his signature smirk upon seeing Havana sneaking out the backdoor with a fresh set of clothes and newly showered. Her Mystic Grill nametag was pinned on her shirt.

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"What do you mean I'm fired!? I'm your boss!" For a second there, Havana thought that today would be a good one. The drive to the Mystic Grill was filled with her anxiously tapping on the steering wheel. She wasn't thinking about the consequences of taking Damon's car without permission or the impact of her absences on her job since she was in charge of the place. No, her mind was on the people who would point out her puffy raccoon looking eyes. Havana stopped judging her reflection on the mirror when she almost hit a pedestrian with Damon's car. Unsurprisingly, the Mystic Grill was filled with locals. Surprisingly, none of the people present were Havana's friends. Oh well, probably out solving the supernatural problem of the week. Havana made her way to her station, the bar, until Rony, the assistant manager showed up and told her the news.

"You've been absent for nearly a month Havana. The owner came in one day and was pissed that his manager decided to take a leave of absences without telling anyone. They put me in charge now." He shrugged, his eyes avoided hers which was full of fury. Havana stayed still silently judging her ex-coworker. She didn't know how Rony ended up being the manager when he would always sneak into the storage room to eat and sleep. His shirt was almost covered with ketchup stains and his hair looked like he never saw a comb in his entire life. All those times Havana kindly asked the man to do his job, he would grumble and asked if he could do it later.

"Son of a bitch." Havana spat out. But he was already gone surprisingly attending to customers. Rony no longer wore ketchup stained polos that were too small for him, and his hair looked decent for once. Whatever, I'm still tipsy.

"Someone's in a mood." A voice said behind her. It was Alaric, sitting by the bar and drinking, unsurprisingly. The way he looked at his friend with pity made it clear that he obviously heard the conversation. He patted the seat next to him inviting her to come over.

Havana huffed sitting on the stool chair. Before Alaric could protest, her hands grabbed his beer. Havana chugged the remaining amount until there was no more. When she finished, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand proudly saying "At least I can get drunk anytime now. One more please!" She yelled at the other bartender.

Alaric shook his head disapprovingly. "I didn't want to believe Damon at first but wow, you are a mess." They stared at each other with blank expressions before bursting into laughter. "Okay, Damon and Elena will kill me if they knew I let you drank. But you clearly need one-" He looked over at Rony who was making jokes with a family a couple of tables away "-but don't go overboard. I'm here to look out for you, I'm not your nanny."

"They made you come out here to spy at me?!"

For the next few hours, the two were still drinking with each other. They were catching up with the drama Havana missed...

"Are you kidding me!? Stefan's stuck in the tomb with that bitch Katherine?!" She nearly spat out her scotch.

"Was" Alaric corrected. "Stefan got out. Katherine too, unfortunately. But we gained intel on how she's connected to Klaus." Havana rolled her eyes. "It turns out that she escaped Klaus in the 1400s before the ritual to break the curse began and she's been on the run ever since. That man is no joke."

Havana rolled her eyes, "Blah blah blah. Tell me something that won't make me puke...again." Alaric chuckled to himself remembering Rory covered in Havana's puke just a few minutes ago. "How about the asshole named Rose who kidnapped and bruised me?"

"Rose was actually a decent person Havana. She was just unwillingly dragged into this mess by Katherine. But she uh died...a wolf by the name of Jules bit her."

Havana nearly threw her martini to the ground. "There's a wolf in Mystic Falls?!"

"Shh!" Alaric had to cover her mouth with his hand. "Sorry folks! She's just drunk. Take a look at the manager's shirt, you'll know what I mean!" He smiled at the people staring at them. He glared at Havana before removing his hand.

"Sorry sorry." She apologized. "Wow, I can't believe that there's a wolf in this small city. Any more casualties?" Havana whispered.

"Tyler Lockwood activated his wold gene." Another gasp came from Havana. "A pack of wolves also arrived. They brought chaos with them. Thankfully, Stefan and Damon finished them before they could kill Caroline."

"Aww, poor Caroline!"

Alaric nodded in agreement. Two shots of whiskey were placed on the table. Alaric and Havana finished it before continuing. "Tyler Lockwood ran away. But John Gilbert came back."

"FUCK"

"So did Isobel."

"DOUBLE FUCK."

"And Elijah."

"FUCKING SHIT TO INFINITY FUCK WHAT?!" Havana dropped the shot glass making it crash to the ground. "I knew Lijah was a fighter." She chuckled thanking the heavens her old friend wasn't dead.

"I think it's time to cut you off for the night." His hand reached Havana's martini to take it away before it was violently swatted. "OUCH"

"I need this! Don't you dare take it away." Havana felt a little guilty for the red mark on the back of Alaric's left hand. But she still glared at the man. "Alaric, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You haven't been 'fine' for nearly a month Havana." He reached out again but Havana grabbed the martini first and gulped it down. Alaric shook his head disapprovingly at her childish behavior.

"The problem with closed-minded people is their mouth is always open. It's none of your business" Havana slurred. Hurt flashed across his eyes. He aggressively stood up from his seat and collected his things. "Aww c'mon Ric! I was just joking!"

"You know what Havana." Alaric pointed a finger at her, "You have no right to tell me that this is none of my business. For the last few weeks, we all have been bending over backward and put ourselves into dangerous situations-which by the way-ends up with one of us almost dying for you! We're here to protect you because we love you! And we are willing to do anything to ensure your safety and wellbeing. So if you want us to 'mind our own business' so be it! At least Elena shows us the gratitude we deserve." He slammed a hundred dollar bill on the counter before turning his back on Havana. "That should cover my half," Alaric said not looking back at the girl whose head was starting to spin again.

Like the past few weeks, a heavy feeling entered Havana's body crushing her heart. She banged her head on the table angry at herself. "I need to get sober."

Outside of the Mystic Grill, an angry history teacher walked outside in the direction of his car. He had second thoughts circulating around his head to go back and apologize but his legs betrayed him moving further and further into the parking lot. However, Alaric never made it, he was knocked unconscious. He didn't take a look as to who had done this.