[ Just like his apartment, the front door's not locked. Why bother when you're a vampire? Any stranger walking in without first being welcomed is just begging to be fed on is what Damon thinks. Once inside, he wrinkles his nose and lets out a low whistle. ]
Where are you, Becky? [ He picks up a few magazines from the floor, stacks it up on the coffee table before he attempts to ignore the rest of the mess as he moves past the living room. ] Tell me you're not buried under a pile of trash.