"Woah, never thought I'd see you here," Damon said as he entered, wearing his usual smirk. He slid onto a barstool and casually ordered a whiskey from Michael, who was working behind the bar that day.
"Here," Michael replied, placing the glass in front of him.
Damon took a sip, eyeing him curiously. "You have so much power, yet you're working as a bartender. Makes me wonder... what are you hiding?"
Michael raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly on the bar. "Tell me then, what would you have done in my place?"
Damon chuckled, swirling the glass in his hand. "Me? I would've taken over a whole town by now. Maybe even found a way to make money serve me instead."
He smirked again and took another sip of his whiskey.
Michael gave a small, amused smile, watching Damon with quiet confidence.
"That's exactly why you're you… and I'm me," he said, wiping down a glass. "I don't need to take over anything. If I wanted the world, I'd already have it. But that's not the point."
Damon leaned back slightly, expression curious. "So what is the point, oh mysterious warlock-bartender?"
"Perspective," Michael answered smoothly. "People show who they are when they think you're just someone pouring drinks. They speak freely. They reveal things they'd never tell a powerful wizard or a stranger with too much confidence."
Damon gave a low whistle, nodding. "Alright, alright. That's kind of clever. A little spooky… but clever." He raised his glass in a mock toast. "To secrets, then."
Michael clinked his own glass lightly against Damon's. "To truths hidden in plain sight."
Just then, the bar door swung open. Camille walked in, her eyes lighting up when she saw Michael behind the counter. She walked over and leaned on the bar, a soft smile on her lips.
"You're really working here?" Camille asked, genuinely surprised as she approached the bar.
Michael smiled, wiping his hands on a towel. "Well, until I figure out how to turn all that gold in my portable house into actual cash, I need some way to make money." His tone was casual, but there was amusement in his eyes.
Just then, Damon leaned against the bar beside her. "Hello to you too," he added with a cocky grin.
Camille folded her arms, giving him a flat look. "Oh, you're here too? Great."
"Ouch, am I being ignored already?" Damon asked, pretending to be offended.
"Yes, yes you are," Camille replied dryly, making Michael chuckle under his breath.
"By the way," Michael added, raising an eyebrow, "I heard something interesting. So tell me, Damon Salvatore — what exactly are you doing here?"
Damon blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?" he said, eyes narrowing just slightly.
Michael looked at him as he remembered how he just made Matt forget everything about Magic and vampires.
"Hmm… I mean, you haven't set foot in this town for years, and now suddenly, you're back?" Michael asked while cleaning a glass behind the bar. "Is there any particular reason for that?"
Damon leaned on the counter with a shrug. "No real reason. Mystic Falls was my home when I was human… figured I'd come back."
Michael raised an eyebrow. "Right. Though it seems your brother is enjoying it, As he is flirting with a high school girl" He nodded subtly toward the pool table, where Stefan was sitting uncomfortably close to Elena.
Damon leaned back with a neutral expression, unfazed. "So what?"
Camille, who had been quiet until now, scoffed. "So what? Aren't you guys centuries-old vampires? And she's… what? Sixteen? Seventeen?"
"Says the one dating an ancient warlock," Damon shot back with a sly smirk.
Camille crossed her arms and gave him a sharp look. "I'm an adult — mid-twenties. She's just a teenager. That's different."
Michael chuckled quietly. "Yeah, for humans, it is."
The tension lingered between them until Camille's expression shifted, confused. She glanced toward Elena. "Wait… she doesn't feel like a vampire to me. She's not, is she?"
Damon looked back at her. "No… she's not," he admitted.
" at least my brother has yet to turn her into one"
"Then what did you mean earlier?" Camille asked, looking back at Michael.
Michael leaned forward, his voice calm. "I meant she's a Doppelgänger."
Damon paused mid-drink. "A doppel-what now?"
Camille furrowed her brows. "Doppelgänger? Like, a double?"
Michael nodded. "It's one of nature's laws. Balance. Everything has an end. But a powerful Bennett witch once defied that rule… and nature doesn't take rebellion lightly."
He paused, eyes flicking between the two of them.
"To restore balance, nature created Doppelgängers — living shadows of someone who wasn't supposed to exist anymore. And in every generation, the Doppelgänger is fated to die… usually for the sake of True Immortals, they can't die so their shadow self has to die."
Camille's face twisted in disbelief. "You're joking, right?"
Damon sighed, setting down his glass. "Me too, not in mod for any nature and its bullshit"
Michael shrugged. "Do I know her? Or owe her anything?"
He shook his head, still wiping down a glass. "Nope. She's a stranger to me. So why would I care about her or joke about her?"
Damon looked at him seriously, brows furrowed. "So if what you said is true — and she is a Doppelgänger — does that mean every Doppelgänger like her shares the same face? And it's not just coincidence?"
Michael nodded slightly. "They're related by blood. But yes, over the centuries, that same face keeps appearing… tied to a central bloodline."
He glanced toward Stefan. "Like your brother. He's a Doppelgänger too, actually."
Damon blinked. "Wait, what?"
Michael continued, calm and casual. "But since he's a full vampire now, the Doppelgänger bloodline is considered dead in him."
Damon turned, eyes narrowing as he stared at Stefan from across the bar.
"This… this isn't a coincidence, is it?" Camille muttered, processing everything.
She touched her chest as if steadying her thoughts. "If Doppelgängers are tied to the origin of true immortality… and assuming there were only two True Immortals — one male, one female — then wouldn't that mean that they were couples who shared the secret of Immortality?"
Michael gave a small smirk. "You're putting together the dots faster than most do."
Camille tilted her head, still stunned. "So… I'm right?"
Michael nodded. "Yup."
Damon and Camille both turned their attention to Stefan and Elena again, watching them quietly.
"This just got really weird," Damon muttered before downing his entire glass of whiskey in one gulp.
*******
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