Elena: Back at my house, I tell the boys I want to meet with Esther. Damon will have none of that, even though Stefan, of all people, sides with me, and reminds Damon that Bonnie was having dreams about the coffin for a reason.
Damon: Can we go back in time to when the old Stefan cared if Elena lived or died?
Stefan: No way, bro. You smooched her last.
Elena: Enough, I'm going.
Damon: Hells to the no.
Elena: You're not THE BOSS OF ME, DAMON!
Stefan: I'll go.
Damon: Right, because you get along with the Originals, ever so well.
Recapper: Oh, Damon, honey, and you do?
Stefan: I was gonna mention... but it wasn't in the script.
Damon: I'm going and that's final.
Meanwhile, over at Fortress Forbes, Caroline checks her voicemail. She has a message from Tyler. He's so sorry about leaving and even sorrier about Bill's death. He's gonna send his inner puppy through obedience school, then scamper back home to her. He ends the message with, "I love you." Aw, Pudding Pup, come back soon.
Caroline: And while I'm deeply touched, I can't think about that right now, because someone rings my doorbell and runs away. When I open the door, I find an invitation to the Mikaelson's ball, and a gorgeously wrapped box. On the back of the invite, there's a note to me. "Save me a dance. Fondly, Klaus." I'm all like, "Seriously???" Then I open the box. There is a beautiful blue ball gown inside. Want. Want. Want! Damn.
Elena: Later, Caroline and I meet at the Grill. We're discussing the ball and the Wicked Witch, when Caroline cracks, "It's some twisted Cinderella fetish, is what it is."
Recapper: How convenient, then, that Klaus sent you a blue gown, hmm?
Elena: Caroline doesn't want to go with me, but says I should go to the ball -- with Stefan. I forget. Does she not know he forced his blood on me, tried to drive me off the bridge where my parents died, which would have meant I'd come back as a vamp, AND THAT HE THREW OUT MY CELLPHONE?!
Caroline: Also, why are you here, instead of shopping, getting your hair done, or anything else that we've been trained to do, since birth, when a formal event is imminent?