A lot had changed in the year since Frankie had left New Orleans.

The Salvatores had been successful in their plan to bring her brother back, though a great deal more calamity came from it than any of them had expected. That chaos however was at least something that both Frankie and her brother were determined to stay far from. They almost lived somewhat normal lives after his resurrection, forcing a steadiness that neither felt in earnest.

Once Alaric had been resurrected, it had been difficult for Frankie to consider being anywhere other than there with him. She was surprised by how much it scared her having him back. It was as though she always needed to know he was alright, constantly felt terrified he'd die on her again.

Alaric too liked having her there. He'd spent a lot of his time on the Other Side shadowing her and watching her grieve and he felt relieved being back with her as they helped each other rebuild their lives. Everything in their worlds had changed and being together was nice, the solidity of family, helping them take the next steps forward.

Frankie had days where she still missed Elijah, a lot of days where she couldn't get him out of her mind, where she couldn't stop hearing his kind words and picturing his steady hands holding her.

If she let him he could pervade every inch of her soul.

It was hard to forget the feeling of him beside her as she slept or the comfort of him next to her as she read, the sound of his laugh when she teased him and the taste of his lips on hers. There were so many things about Elijah that she missed that she was sure she could write a new one each day and never run out of ideas.

If anyone asked, she'd only shrug her shoulders but really her heart would clench with regret each time she thought of what she'd done when she'd run.

She'd even nearly turned around a few days after her arrival back in Mystic Falls when Cami had called to tell her the events that happened, Hayley's transition and the baby's death and the toll it took on both Klaus and Elijah. It had gone so far that she'd begun looking at flights until Klaus returned her call and assured her they were okay and that she stay where she needed to be, that he'd call her if she could help them but that she do what she needed to do.

At times staying in Virginia was hard but at least it allowed Frankie to build her life a little more. She worked on mostly freelance projects on the side until eventually she stopped working in hospitality in its entirety, able to support herself with just her art. It was strange, actually enjoying the work she did but being able to make art as her living helped her feel more fulfilled.

Frankie and Alaric had somehow ended up in an apartment together, him teaching at Whitmore while she worked on her art, mainly from home though sometimes she'd squirrel away in a studio when she had a particularly large project. He'd been the one to ask her to move in with him, who'd suggested that they get a place together, he'd even been able to compel them a slightly larger newer apartment than either of their salary's could justify thanks to his vampire compulsion.

It was nice living with Alaric, easy.

Even their parents had visited. The first time they came over was the first time she'd even seen either of them since she heard about the supernatural years ago. Though she wasn't particularly close to them, Frankie hadn't realised till then how much she'd really missed them. It had been such an overwhelming visit that by the time it was over Frankie couldn't quite decide if she needed to cry or to throw up so instead she got stoned.

Things had almost seemed normal in their lives, Alaric had met a woman who he was clearly falling for and she and her business seemed to actually be thriving. Frankie's life almost seemed to be on track, the chaos that had been Mitch and then everything New Orleans was in the past, all long enough ago she could pretend she'd forgotten, when one day an invitation appeared in her mail that spun everything, tilting her back into the supernatural world all over again.

The invitation was delivered seemingly by hand as there was no address and nothing but her name. It was printed on thick creamy card stock, soft and luxurious with an annotation scribbled beneath the printed words. Accompanied by it too was a business card, this was on black paper with a symbol on one side in a silvery white that looked a little like an owl.

You're cordially invited to an evening of exquisite excess.

The Danville Estate, 7041 St. Charles Avenue

Midnight

Francesca, I believe we have a number of friends in common and it would be a delight to finally meet you on Friday in person. - Tristan De Martel

She wasn't quite sure why, but since she'd received the note just days earlier, Frankie hadn't been able to pull her mind away from it. It was like no matter where she went, the note was taunting her. Her brother had been the first person she'd shown it to and despite his extensive knowledge of vampires he hadn't heard of Tristan De Martel, no one in Mystic Falls had.

It was funny that a note from a stranger inviting her to a ball was something threatening to pull her back into a world she'd run from. Frankie had no doubts however that a ball in New Orleans would be attended by the Mikaelson's and she figured too that the invitation was from someone equally supernatural given every person she knew in the city.

The ball itself wasn't what was really drawing her back in and making her wonder, it was that the opportunity it presented had a date, a deadline and she'd need to decide by then whether she wanted to give that world a second chance or cut her losses entirely and allow herself to really move on in her new life.

"Why don't you go," Alaric pressed her, "at least see what it is, it wouldn't be so bad."

"Why do you want me to go so much," Frankie rolled her eyes, "want me out of your hair for a weekend with Jojo that badly?"

"We could use our space a little," he shrugged, "It's only a party, it's not like you can't or won't come back after that."

"'Use your space,'" Frankie scoffed, suddenly a lot more irritated than she'd expected herself to be, "Come on Ric, don't act like I'm cramping your style when you were the one who said that loft felt too big after how alone you were on the Other Side. You were the one who suggested we get a place together."

Frankie felt a little resentful at that. Though her brother hadn't pushed her to stay, he certainly hadn't been disappointed when she did and it was him who'd suggested they move in together. She relied on him a lot but he wasn't innocent either, pushing to keep them together after such a final last ending and how worried he'd been when he watched her from the Other Side.

"You're right," he conceded, "but it's been more than a year since then. Frank you're my sister so stay as long as you want, but you know I'm sure as hell not going anywhere again-"

"-You don't know that."

"You're 26!" he exclaimed, "You should be out living your life, going after the things that made you happy, not stuck in some small town living with your big brother terrified he's going to die on you again."

Ric's words hit home and she felt her body choke.

Though neither had ever said it aloud, they both knew that that was the reason she stayed, because she couldn't bear to lose him again. It had hurt her so badly when he'd died that now she was back she was frightened he'd slip away again.

"You just let it happen," she said quietly, all her anger had dissipated though betrayal and hurt remained, "You don't know what it was like, coming back to your apartment when I knew I'd never see you again.

I know it's not about me but fuck Ric. Everything that we went through and you just let it happen. I had to come back knowing that every thanksgiving and Christmas and easter was going to be spent in silence or with your mum trying to ask my about my boyfriend. That I'd have to figure out a way to tell them what happened, to tell them that I lost my brother. You were dead and I couldn't even tell them why so I was going to need to lie."

Frankie sighed, pausing here while she took a deep breath. Her eyebrows were knitted so tightly together that they were actually hurting her, her fists curled up tightly.

"I didn't see them at all you know," she continued softly, "not even once. I tried. One day I drove all the way there and I was going to tell them you were gone but I couldn't do it. I rented a car and drove for two days and then I just sat outside the house until night came and then I turned back. I missed you so much it was like something had been ripped from me but I didn't have the heart to hurt them like that too."

It had taken a while for Frankie to get over the hurt she'd felt from his death. Once she'd known he was okay again, she realised how angry she'd been for letting it happen without a fight. Alaric had been the one to suffer, of course he had, he'd literally died and she didn't want to make it about her but it didn't mean that she hadn't struggled too in the aftermath.

Just because her anger was irrational didn't mean it wasn't there, she felt ill when she remembered the first days after his death. The mind numbing blank as she stumbled through New Orleans, determined to never think of him again in hope that forgetting would somehow cause the weight of pain to lift.

It wasn't his fault, she knew that, but a small part of her had always blamed him for taking it so easily, for laying down and accepting it all.

He'd been doing what he thought was best for the most people, but she didn't care about that. She cared about the fact that her big brother, the person who'd been there for her again and again, who promised her he'd never leave, had done just that. The day they'd first met, he promised her he'd be there for her for her whole life, and then he hadn't. It was selfish and she knew it, but everything in her was so caught in the pain of his death that she needed someone to blame.

"Shit Frank," Alaric sighed, shaking his head, "I'm sorry. I know this has been hard for you, I'm not trying to push you away I just don't want you to block out your life because of me. I'm not saying you should leave forever but all your work is online now, you can work anywhere, why not take a little road trip? Go to a fancy ball and see how you feel being back there."

It wasn't difficult for Alaric to see that despite Frankies declarations that her life in New Orleans was over and her relationships with the people there not her priority that she still cared for everyone. She called Cami almost daily, the two growing even closer in each other's absence than she had with anyone here.

Klaus left her voicemails too, she hadn't told anyone about it but Alaric had heard her listening to them, they came every few days and told her what she'd missed. Once he'd even caught her illustrating a card for his daughter, Hope, a card wishing her well and sending her love. He'd mentioned Klaus and the messages once but she acted like she didn't know what he was talking about and then got so stoned she could barely move for two days.

It was rare Frankie talked about Elijah, all the Mikaelsons were a touchy subject and even those like Damon who delighted in pressing buttons were wary of bringing any of them up lest her face fall and her breath catch desperately in her throat.

While she insisted she was over Elijah in every sense of the word, Alaric knew that she shirt she'd slept in every single night since he'd returned had been his. She had a novel too, one he'd always known she'd liked but now she seemed almost frantic about it. The book like a security blanket at times, that she'd read cover to cover whenever she was gripped with anxiety or longing.

While Frankie had built herself up in the time since she'd left Louisiana, there were parts of her too that had crumbled. Everything outward, her career, her health, it all seemed to be better, brighter, fuller, but the little parts of her inside that for a time had been so seen now felt so empty it was like they would implode on themselves.

"And what if I feel like it was a big mistake," she said, finally looking back at him, the image of the little girl in his living room flooding back to him all at once, "That I can't do it, can't see him again after how much I hurt him."

That was the real truth.

Frankie wasn't only scared of leaving because of him, she was scared of what she was returning to. Scared that perhaps the image she'd left in her head wasn't true, or that it was one that time had warped. Though she never spoke of it, he knew she'd worked through every moment of her time in New Orleans piece by piece and that she was frightened it wouldn't be as she'd left it.

"Then you come back and we'll find you an apartment, or we'll find us a bigger two bedroom apartment."

"You're sure?"

It was at times like this when Alaric remembered how much younger than him he was. She wasn't a child, but she was a decade younger and when her heart would race with nerves it reminded him that some things still held uncertainty for her.

"You're my sister Frank, of course I'm sure."

That had been the conversation to turn her life around again, a conversation that then led to a phone call with a more than delighted Cami who agreed instantly that Frankie could stay on her couch. She knew too that she needed a dress but when she mentioned this Cami suggested with such certainty that she had one that would suit the occasion she figured she'd trust her friend and wear that.

It took longer for her to return to New Orleans than it had taken her to leave it. She had a car now, her board lay beside her alongside her backpack but at least this time she drove herself, all fourteen hours of highways and gas stations.

Cami's place wasn't the same one she'd been living in when Frankie had last been there but she pulled into the driveway with a grin before barreling forwards and tackling her waiting best friend into a hug.

Dumping her things by the doorway, Frankie couldn't believe how at home she felt. Even as she'd driven through town it was like her body sighed in delight with the familiarity of it all. It was funny that the place that had been her escape, where she'd run to when things where chaotic, already felt so much like her home again. It was like now she was back everything was beginning to slot back into a place that was right.

"Oh god I've missed you and your shitty skateboard," Cami laughed when they'd finally settled onto the couch. Both were grinning madly at one another at how bizarre it was to be reunited after such a long time with only phone calls.

"What's wrong with my skateboard?" Frankie frowned, "This one's not even that old."

It was the skateboard she'd bought to replace the one she'd lost after she was kidnapped. She didn't like to think of that night, not because of what had happened but because of what had happened afterwards. If she thought too long about the events that led to her board she'd think about Elijah and that was a rabbit hole too hard to pull herself from.

Cami pointed at the board in question laying face down by the counter, "It says 'fuck you' on the bottom."

"I know that," Frankie nodded with a laugh, "I painted it there."

Cami laughed loudly and Frankie grinned again, "How long are you staying? I wish you wouldn't leave."

"I dont know," she shrugged, "I'm gonna go to this gala and see how things feel. I'm pretty light on projects at the moment and I have my laptop, so I can kind of stay for a bit if I like, it's pretty breezy really."

"Really?" Cami asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise when Frankie nodded earnestly, "Well, I for one think you should move back now you know your brother's okay. This town's gone to hell since you left."

"I don't know," Frankie shook her head, her mind spinning to Elijah and the fear that she felt deep in her gut that he'd hate her after everything she'd put him through, "I might just see how this evening goes and play it by ear from there."

Frankie knew Elijah was going. She hadn't mentioned it but Cami had brought the note up to Klaus asking if he knew who it was from and if it was safe and Klaus had told her that he had little doubt Elijah would attend. In fact when Cami mentioned it, Klaus decided with near certainty that he'd ensure his brother attend. Frankie didn't know about the workings of Cami or Klaus behind the scenes of course, but she knew he'd be there and she knew it was time to face him.

"I know that he still thinks about you," Cami told her, "Klaus says so."

"What's going on with you and Klaus," Frankie asked, pointedly changing the topic whilst inquiring on something she'd been wondering for a little while after things both Cami and Klaus had said about the other, "You seem closer."

"I'm his therapist."

"Therapist?"

"He's a client, sort of. A client who leant me, meaning you, a very nice dress for this evening," she laughed, changing the topic as delicately as Frankie, "though I'm not sure if his cache of women's ballgowns should be concerning."

"Everything about Klaus should concern you," Frankie shrugged, "surely if he's spilling his secrets to you you should know that by now, but he's not exactly the worst person out there."

"Do you want to see it?" Cami asked, standing to her feet and pulling Frankie up beside her, "I can't believe all that time ago I had to be the one to suggest you in a dress, and now look at you, wearing a ballgown all on her own."

"Maybe I can wear a suit?" she joked, "I wonder if they'd let me in like that, at least then I could wear proper shoes so I can run away."

"Don't be ridiculous," Cami laughed as she led her towards the bedroom where the dress lay, "They're all gonna be vampires there Frankie, you can't get away regardless of what shoes so you might as well wear a ballgown and heels and have Elijah fall down in surprise."