Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Put your eyes on me

And I know a place that we can get away

Just say “I want you 

Just exactly like I used to” 

‘Cause baby, this is only bringing me down 

- “I want you” by Kings of Leon 

xoxo

Fellowship Time 

by Ovidae 

…YEAR XX

DANIEL HUMPHREY SAID THEY FIRST MET AT A PARTY… OR AN ESSAY COMPETITION BUT SURELY IT WAS ON ORCHARD STREET, LOWER EAST SIDE. 

Like him then or unlike him now, she tries to remember them through writing… Her Insider of sorts. Did it really matter? This wasn't a love story. Not really. And now that he's back, she couldn't deal with the memories, feelings, moments. She needed a purge. They were good until she ruined it. He pretends not to, when she thinks she sees him on the streets, but he ruined it too! Well, it starts in New York, the only place stories can begin and end…  

.

.

.

…YEAR 1

1. The Pie 

The first time— at that time Blair Cornelia Waldorf was late. She hated being late. 

Blair scrambled through the dingy dive bar on the newly renovated road, struggling to find Serena Van Der Woodsen’s purse and phone. She hoped to avoid the grime of lower Manhattan but that damn bridge hadn't fallen between boroughs. Blair dodged stools and chewed-up peanuts beside lipstick-stained shot glasses while sliding over bills to the tired barman. She waved enough cash to dissuade him from turning over the very underage Serena to the authorities. Avuncular figures and creepy uncle types grumbled at Blair for stopping Serena’s burlesque show on the table. There will be no Coyote Ugly remakes! Blair refused. 

With a huff, Blair acquired both of their bags and rushed to collect her wayward confidante.

She hoped Serena didn’t charm or enchant anyone to plead for her hand in marriage. The build and face of Van Der Woodsen ladies regularly launched a thousand ships and divorces. They were God’s beautiful creatures capable of convincing a monk to start a war for them. Blair can’t count on juiced up, coked-up (Georgina recently told Blair about their soirees) Serena to act unadulterated after promising while sober to remain sober hours ago.    

This is thee disaster of circa 2006. Why must a drunk Serena and a perpetually stoned Nate spoil her favourite holiday? Her birthday, another national holiday, was a fortnight ago. Today, Nate was late and Serena got wasted before noon. A week prior, Mike Anthony, the esteemed head of ​​Gramercy Tavern (her favourite New American restaurant), didn’t greet her the last time she visited the cozy establishment. 

Blair loved Thanksgiving. Despite that, she fished Serena out of the watering hole of vodka. The inevitable chase to pin down her best friend was the cost of roughening her purple pair of Louboutins. 

Blair is more than familiar with Serena’s vomiting face and hoped she didn’t aim for her lap or cute bag. Well, Blair wouldn’t be that upset. Her mother Eleanor Waldorf never liked the way Blair paired her handbags and this bag was a gift from a prissy hireling Laurel of hers. She hated that snipe Laurel.     

Blair straightened her newest designer headband and rushed to join Serena. Blair’s anxiety roared. What if Serena face-planted into the brick-faced buildings or threw up on the sidewalks? 

Taxis zoomed by and she didn’t find a Serena soup to peel off of the asphalt. Instead, Serena was accosted by a stranger, in the middle of the road. 

The only and ever Daniel Humphrey. Her Dan Humphrey. 

Though, though Blair thought he had sideburns that rivalled a caveman’s with a varicoloured mess of an outfit straight out of the thrift bins. He was unlike the ritzy, palatial Upper East Siders. Why should she spot a hipster in her presence? He was dowdy and she wondered— gag, converse, when he’d throw away that dreadful scarf. He had a forehead big enough to hammer nails into and Titan’s shoulders perfect for dismemberment. Blair is well-informed on the art of war and male pressure points.  

Secondly, he was in awe of Serena, tongue barely able to fit in his mouth. So she totally wrote him off. 

The stranger pulled away his undoubtedly sweaty hand and offered a cosmic, twitchy smile to Serena. “I don’t know, I met you two— we met last year at a party. You might not remember. Yeah, you probably don’t, but you should be more careful,” he cautioned kindly. 

Blair rolled her eyes. He probably saw Serena splashed across the magazines. Of course. 

Blair swooped in, saving the wild Serena, as always. She pulled Serena behind her, though Blair was much smaller than both of the willowy figures. “You need to keep your hands off of her! Trying to take advantage of her on the holidays. Come on, let’s go, Serena.” With a scoff, Blair shoved past the comely man and hauled Serena to their getaway car. 

She entered the cab and levelled one last withering glare for good measure. He smiled softly and said, “Bye.”

He all but sighed dreamily. 

Blair soothed Serena's drunken rants about talking to lonely people as they rode off. Blair smoothed Serena’s collar and texted a worried Nate. He asked about Serena first, which stung. Blair was now late and she did not tolerate lateness! Serena tried to chitchat with the leering taxi driver, then slumped onto Blair’s shoulder and held Blair. Blair held her back. She always holds on. 

“Dave is sweet and I wanted his pie. Just your type.” Serena went on to slur emphatically. Blair laughed at the joke. “Really, B!” 

Her type? Her type of man? With all her studying of Byzantine warfare and Waterloo and Napoléon, she never imagined this attack! 

Blair dismissed the derring-do, hirsute tendencies of the stranger— this labrador type and his outfit. She didn't picture him naked, just a face. She was God’s little lamb, after all. A virgin. She considered the predator with her fashion-forward and taste-sharpened eyes. She was cursed with an unsympathetic Mother who eschewed nepotism so Blair wasn't a model. Her parents kept their heights. Serena has modelled for Gap and Mother at age 12. She was on the sidelines and saw what beauty was and how she wasn't. In men, it's simpler to see who’s got it. 

Stranger had some attributes of the 6’0, revolving door of arrogant arses who tried their luck with Serena. As they sat in on Fashion Week and other castings, Blair knew one thing for sure. If the stranger could clean up his breeding and— maybe. With that face. The concrete, flinty jaw under heavy black brows, his deep-set eyes. They burned with the mellowness often not seen in the Upper East Side. Aquiline nose and high cheekbones. Bee-stung, plush lips and skin untouched by the chill. 

Compared to Nate’s sun-kissed perfection and blue eyes, Dave could not compete.   

“Don't insult Nate.” she snapped. 

Serena threw her head back with a giggle, embodying a freedom and levity that Blair only wished for. “Type of pie ,” Serena babbled, her laughs like chimes. “It got ran over! Can you believe it? Let's get food!” 

Whenever Serena laughed, Blair wanted to. Normally she doesn't, but she did because Serena was lovely when her inhibitions were low. 

Blair laughed as Serena got comfortable. She kissed Serena’s forehead, inhaling the booze, and loamy perfume. “You are so drunk, S. Daddy’s amazing pie and canapés will soak it right up.”

Serena cheered. Blair glared at the driver who lingered on the breezy blonde’s smile. “Step on it, bucko! We need to be back for Thanksgiving by this century.” 

Blair didn't know it yet but this moment led to her ruining her 20s. This was the moment, meeting him and watching him in the rearview as they drove further away. 

This entry nor any of them will not be a paean to him or them but rather a method of organizing the steps towards a farewell.

It- them wasn't supposed to happen like this or at all. Blair hated that she couldn’t plan it or see it coming. What was Holly supposed to do about Paul, huh? 

Seriously! Blair really would like to know! 

Alas, enough delay. On with the story. She swears to get over Dan Humphrey, come hell or high water (and the end of this Moleskine journal-biography thing). Whichever is faster! She swears on her closet and that is nothing less than biblical.  

xoxo 

2. Kiss On The Lips or Slap To The Face 

The Kiss on the Lips party was officially ruined, crashed by ruffians with a mane of hair, that little social climbing minx Jenny and an indifferent Nate who admittedly was distracted and unfaithful. The blue and red technicolour of the cheap sci-fi stage lighting effects cast Mother's dress in a bad light. This bad Blink-182 rip-off blasted over the stereo and no one stuck to the dress code. 

She specified no purple on anyone else. Her Vera Wang lavender stone dress fell beautifully. She regretted that Dorota helped pick out her gorgeous drop pearl earrings for a lame night like this. She even suffered inhaling bad perfume after countless cheek kisses, suffocating quick hugs and last season looks by those she had to invite. 

Everyone had to witness her glorious reign continue over the Upper East Side. A queen never abandons her people in times of crisis.   

After that Blast by the insipid Gossip Girl, Blair knew she couldn’t be Gossip Girl’s darling any longer. Serena was going to dominate the timeline and the blog’s sidebar. Serena always stole the spotlight. Just by flipping her hair, a small, guiltless smile and turning on her heel in a hurry. That scandalous, show-stopping hussy took everything, slamming into Blair’s life on a busted Thursday night in September.  

Scott Fitzgerald was right! Life starts all over in the fall. September, months too late after isolation, Daddy escaping from New York to Paris and Mother spending time working or at the country house. Thank God for Lexapro. 

The semester started and Blair sunk into the mundane and broke up the monotony with a deluge of drama, new manolos, directing her minions, doting on Nate, eating less, courting her future in-laws at social events and acing exams. Charity work and French club had moved up her list of priorities. 

And then Serena wrecked her again. 

Nate chose Serena. Blair chose Serena. Again, again and again. Serena chose herself and ran away to humiliate Blair, to prove to everyone Blair didn’t deserve her princess lifestyle with the love of her life. Her reputation was shot to hell. 

Until six months ago, her planned life was perfect. The vision board was properly trimmed and tweaked, pictures culled and laid flat to dry. Graduating from Yale, visiting Dartmouth, Daddy coming to visit, Anne Archibald and The Captain giving up that huge rock and being the Queen of the Upper East Side. She can’t let go of that because of Serena’s open legs.  

Serena was in Cornball— no, Cornwall, Connecticut until 35 hours ago. She wasn’t with Aunt Carole in sunny California, trying inhalants and bronzing. She wasn’t away in Rhode Island, touring Providence’s rich cultural landmarks. Blair found out about the boarding school from a sour Lily Van Der Woodsen the night Serena fled and the name Knightley from combing through the Yellow Pages. She even dealt with paper cuts and ignored Dorota’s bandages laid on the dresser. Blair tried to call, fax, charter a flight and almost talked to the occult to hold on to Serena. Serena refused to see her. To see anyone.  

Blair missed one person for half a year and it felt like the whole world was empty. She had nobody to talk to. 

Serena brushed by like she didn’t even know Blair. Her nameless date did, too. 

Serena’s new beau grabbed her hand, ushering Serena out with her sequined gold hair, gold skin and golden smile aimed at the nondescript stranger with a scarf and uneven gait. She caught them zooming away in a cab. Serena didn’t even have a wallet this time. No money, no accessories— just a man to take care of her. 

What is Serena without a man to save her? She’s just a Cinderella, one who runs away. Barely dressed. 

Blair just needed to secure Nate by having sex, being the best choice, securing her future, and winning the competition against Serena. She had the key to everlasting happiness and waited by the door to be let inside. Serena slipped through the back with a secret invite. 

Blair needed to lock down the fort. To have control. To do that, she could be Blair again. To be Blair and Nate… Serena must stay away or Blair will end her.  

xoxo 

3. Shake of a Hand at Brunch 

Daddy used to redecorate apartments with Blair right around fall like clockwork. They had an appreciation for sourcing old-world artifacts considered obsolete and forgotten. They showered older objects of virtue with adoration. Ironically, Daddy was sleeping with a man half his age at the time. A model. An accessory. Blair immediately threw away the acquired Adamstown “antique capital of the USA”  Pennsylvania haul from their last outing. 

She was acutely aware the chaise longue Jenny perched on needed to be torched. Especially after Jenny lazed all over it. 

After Daddy moved to Paris, Blair used the opportunity to change the layout by herself. Even after being torn apart by adulterous faux pas, her tastes were the same as him, much to her distaste. Daddy moved the pieces she almost discarded to his apartment in Lyon, saying she would always have a place to visit. Not stay. She didn’t speak to him kindly for months. She blew through many catalogues, skipped auctions and couldn’t bring herself to buy one new item. She blogged about future projects while missing Daddy’s guidance and dodged Daddy’s calls and snapped extended olive branches.   

While Blair was used to Dorota being her mother figure, Mother babied her Waldorf Entreprises and spoke to Blair through business cards after her parents’ separation. Occasionally, Laurel’s reported speech and bland voicemails communicated what Mother forgot. It was a special annoyance when the fax would vomit birthday wishes. The ringing of the fax machine was more familiar than her mother’s sneer. 

When she wasn’t in conferences or the country house, Mother blasted Cyndi Lauper as a coping mechanism over and over, When You Were Mine haunting the penthouse. It was her parents’ arena rock anthem, looking 20 years back before marriage. Dorota and some of the other help hum the whistling tune when cleaning the grand piano.  Blair caved and listened to her discography when Serena left. It had some amazing tracks. 

Blair refused to step foot in France until Daddy agreed to come back to her in New York without Roman. Daddy loved Roman and Blair viciously rejected that “fact”.  Mother broke and visited Paris and Nice. Blair will not back down after she gets abandoned. Due to the cold war between Blair, Daddy and Mother— the penthouse was mostly empty.

She offered to laze around Nate's place but he always fucked off with Chuck around nonsense bawdy houses or they met at Blair's. 

The Archibald Manor holds Anne Archibald's awful Girls Inc. socialite gatherings and book clubs. Nate hates them and Blair hates them more. Blair only cared about the Vanderbilt half of the lineage. Above all, Nate's grandfather terrifies Blair. They do not welcome Blair as Nate's other half, Anne doesn't either. So her future in-laws don't want her to be in. 

Dorota headed back to Queens on the weekend with a rich social life. Blair spent most of her days alone, surrounded but alone. Unlike the iconic Audrey Hepburn, she wasn’t happy Saturday night to Monday morning in solitude. 

She used to count the days until Daddy would surely come home. One more day, one more chance for Daddy to do the right thing. 

Kati and Isobel slept over last night and Blair ignored how they curled up on the same bed, impressed onto each other. They’ve always been close enough to make out in the changing rooms and fed each other the best macarons from the carton. Blair doesn’t know how it started but she doesn’t care as long as they coordinate outfits. They did well at the Kiss on The Lips party. She didn’t doubt they would do the same at the Brunch.   

They made young love seem easy. Well, love and life were easy for Iz because her godfather was Warren Buffett. Kati’s family travelled to Israel ever so often but they were attached at the hip. Inseparable. They just knew each other, saw the worst and stayed. Monogamously, too. She couldn’t imagine that. They did share the same lip gloss, so maybe love was sacred.   

Mother hung the dress for Blair to wear with a business card smelling faintly of jasmine. 

Went to Paris. Brunch at 2. Wear pearls! - Eleanor Waldorf, New York.  

Blair ripped up the note in her bathroom, and after being greeted by Serena not taking accountability, Blair was losing it. Now Jenny watched her change from a sheath silhouette dress to underwear to pegged to a-line. Nothing was satisfying enough. Bart Bass and the spawn of Satan's Brunches were special. Just like every fashionmonger shrewd, Eleanor never missed a chance to be noticed.       

Jenny gawked at her dress, too afraid to meet Blair’s eyes yet too eager to inappropriately unravel the make and price tag of the piece. “Wow, Blair, it's... it's beautiful. I mean... you look beautiful.” Jenny said. 

Blair stared at the fitted sapphire dress, smoothing out the wrinkles from the cheap fabric in the mirror. 

Never trust Brooklynites, they have cursed judgment. Even the ones who live in Williamsburg. Jenny thought it was cool to mention the commute to the Waldorf Penthouse. Blair didn’t care. Like. Ever.  

Blair rolled her eyes. “It's average. The colour is last season. And besides, Stella McCartney's a much better version of Bergdorf.” 

Her mother used Blair as a mannequin with such a plain dress. Her mother threw herself into designing after the affair. Eleanor constantly pressed dresses to her front and discarded the samples. A disappointed, acquisitive eye recognized the faults with everything: her life, her relationship, her family—   

Just like Blair. 

Horrified, the dress dropped to her ankles. Blair turned into Mother. Also, cheated on with a model and her best friend was causing scandal across Manhattan. She couldn't be that. Ever. God!

Blair wanted to be herself and aimed for a purple palette but landed on white. It was regal. She planned to wear Steve Madden Mary Jane pumps, floral black tights, her Thread Summer Social lace dress. She liked to believe she was more mature than her mother. She had time to change her fate. This morning, she felt like the Woman in The Tub by Degas and she deserved more than that mundanity and lowered status. 

Jenny murmured about wanting to head to Bergdorf. The little wannabe couldn’t lie any better than a toothbrush. The next option was a bust. She was agitated from seeing Serena and now she was under Mother’s rule with a stupid dress. Her other outfits were not up to par. She had to upstage Serena. She wasn’t sure if Nate would show. He does love her, she thought, but he had also slept with Serena at the Shepherd Wedding. He could make it up to her this way. She had to wear her uniform to battle.

Tired of playing dress up, Blair grabbed her robe.  

Jenny surged forward and scooped up a random doll lying amongst the designer trash. “Wow, these dolls are great. Oh my god, you've got a Cabbage Patch. My brother used to have one of these. His name was Cedric.” 

A scoff. “Your brother's name is Cedric?”   

“No, that was his Cabbage Patch Kid. My brother's name is Dan. Actually, you might know him. He, uh, he went out with Serena last night.” Jenny divulged with a bit more sophistication than her naif personality suggested. 

Dan, short for Daniel. 

Blair paused. “That was your brother?” She almost fisted up the sheer robe in her hands. 

The stranger was Dan Humphrey. Some plaything of Serena. Jenny’s brother. Social climbers are a family business for these two. Why was New York so small? Why were Brooklyn rats bargaining with her sanity? 

She moved on after schooling her shocked expression. “So, does that mean you're friends with Serena now?” Blair inquired. 

Jenny, a quick wit, was caught off guard but deftly found her footing. “I mean, I don't have a problem with her but if someone did have a problem with her I wouldn't have a problem with that either.” 

Blair looked at the baby viper, wondering when she'd be betrayed. She was steeped in the low-class ways and couldn't blossom with Blair and her minions. The girls offered themselves because of invites to exclusive events and social capital. Blair was the most popular girl in school but she was also the most hated. You cannot rule without fear, one knows. 

“You know if you like that dress... you can have it.” Blair told her.  

She informed Jenny people will talk when they enter this world— Blair’s home and soon domain. Blair decided it was all worth it, Jenny needed to make a choice.  Jenny is a cute thing, following the first rich girl she deemed powerful like a regular quack. Blair could give the ducklings in Central Park all the bread in the world, they are still wild animals. 

Blair will act accordingly.

Besides, Blair really needed it all to be worth it.

xoxo

4. Raw? Or Crème de la Crème? 

Chuck, Kati, Iz, and Nate all enjoyed the wild brunch, schmoozing with Bart’s associates and half of the new money. Blair couldn't focus as Nate met her knowing stares with blank disinterest. Chuck was insufferable, as usual. 

Gossip Girl stopped talking about the Kiss On The Lips party debacle and someone mentioned Harold Waldorf. A graying man with a horrible fashion sense and sausage fingers reached for a handshake. Blair debated if he wanted to embarrass Blair or the fact they went to Yale together. She would do anything to have Yale. 

Either way, she was surrounded by gossipy, evil adults. Iz and Kati's parents didn't show. Blair’s parents didn’t either. Bart Bass glared at Chuck and Chuck scurried out of the way. A drunk Wall Street wolf called her “Sprite”. She resents it might be the soda. She wondered, if the mayor who greeted Bart Bass wanted to charge Eleanor with neglect, would Harold get both of their asses out of the charges? Harold might’ve given them sexual favours or what if he brought along Roman— for some sordid group thing ? She did not want to believe that but she asked Chuck about the man. 

And so the brunch went. The shallow joke here, ad about the company there, signal about vacationing over there and well-timed laugh inserted here. Blair knew the song and dance, the script and pen.  

Chuck’s foot knocked into hers under the table their group loafed at, dizzy by greeting New York’s crème de la crème. Chuck has been a bit more on her side than usual, on the periphery, downing scotch while she took in mimosas. Blair almost felt herself relax into the commentary and humdrum of her friends’ gabfest. 

Mid-laugh this Humphrey figure stood at the doors beside the sunshine Serena. Serena looked as nervous as a whore in church. 

They were folded into the crowd and Blair wondered if Serena had ever respected her. 

Blair got swamped in a conversation with the Captain. Something about Eleanor’s new line and how he wanted to invest in it. She would rather never talk shop about Paris, her mother’s atelier. It was nice that Nate offered to get her a refill, reporting for boyfriend duties and leaving with a kiss on the cheek. He’s right there when she needs him, see Gossip Girl! 

Blair stood alone, content, for a millisecond. The clatter of silverware, the hackneyed chuckles of millionaires, the way Serena fell into someone’s heart with charm and ease, Nate moving like a chess piece, Chuck’s devilish eyes flicking towards her for a smile.   

Then Chuck, with a black eye and hawk eyes, offered his suite— in an unfair move of kindness. He could be sincere under all the sleaze and intense paraphilia. It’s why she kept him around. Nate, too. Chuck was the depths of debauchery yet he’s self-serving, oddly sincere that it’s meaningful to watch him trip over to the next strip club or pick an eclectic tie for a business meeting. 

Chuck offered a path, the key to Nate’s heart and her future happiness. Chuck wanted details of her deflowering and heck, she was a girl of faith, but God could look away for a second. He knew this was going to happen. This was her future husband and sleeping with Nate seemed ideal to capture his heart. Keeping him there.

Blair and Nate kissed all the way through the hotel. It felt right. Blair took so many birth control pills over the months, touched herself to this ideal, pressing against the purple paint of the Palace hotels until they reached the suite. The doors opened, and Blair pushed it closed, thrill hunting under her skin. 

Serena waited there, curls abound and frown marring her face. On the nice couch. Nate wanted to talk to Serena about why he wasn’t talking to her after agreeing with Blair not to talk to Serena, defending her too! Blair couldn’t look at either of them!  

Serena slung some insults about quickies, how romantic Chuck’s bed could be. And Blair couldn’t help herself, she’s only human! So when Serena tacked on “Classy, too.” Blair saw red, matching how red-hot angry she felt. 

“Oh, like you?” Blair scoffed, bolting for the door. “I’ll bet your new friend Dan would love to hear all about how classy you are.”  

So... Blair lost it. Adrenaline followed her all the way down the elevator and the steps to the ballroom and she saw him. 

Humphrey was different from everyone here, pairing brown and gray with casual, casual and dressed down and out of the dress code. He stood out like a dark horse amongst the blushes of white and purple and bergamot. Dark hair, darker eyes and dark clothes and slanted shoulders.  

No wonder Serena chose him. Blair can spot him in a crowd and momentarily, you’re out of a Palace brunch with the worst people you’ll know and who knows you, forever. Different, closer to the waiter who dresses in concert black to appear professional and invisible. Humphrey was nothing but himself. Raw. Unlike everyone else. He was earnest. He belonged to himself. 

“Dan?” Blair called gently, crossing the room to him. 

He finally anchored his gaze on Blair, face open and willing to soak in her words. Serena’s playthings never spoke to Blair and she never engaged with them but he really needed to know Serena. 

Blair pulled his hand close, the tip of Humphrey’s ring finger brushing her pearl bracelet. “Hi, I’m Blair Waldorf, Serena’s friend.”  

“Oh, hey,” he said, face mild and sweet. Lost. “Yeah, okay. Blair.” He repeated, tasting her name.  

It was rare that someone didn’t know her name at these events. 

Blair pushed closer, his finger rolling the elastic and cold pearl up her wrist, sending shivers up her arm. This close, he smelled alcohol-free, unlike the rest of them. He smelled fresh, untouched…  like snow. It filled Blair with curiosity. Why choose a wide-eyed outsider to ruin, Serena? Blair was going to wreck him and by extension, Serena. 

“Do you know where she is?” Humphrey inevitably wondered as all men in the histories of Blair did. 

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Blair said primly. 

Suddenly, Serena and Nate pushed into their messy circle, out of breath and oh-so sorry. Well, Serena and Nate were incapable of being remorseful. 

“She was waiting in a hotel room. For my boyfriend.” Blair told Humphrey, shoulder to shoulder. 

“To talk,” Serena cut in. 

“About why we weren’t talking,” Nate added.  

“That doesn’t sound any smarter the second time,” Blair hissed. 

“Why weren’t you talking?” Humphrey asked. “Does this have anything to do with why you were waiting for Serena this morning?” 

Another betrayal! 

Chuck pressed into their circle and Blair felt Humphrey tense up. They shouldn’t have been touching. She hastily moved her arm away from Dan. Who knows what kind of disease that brown jacket held? 

Blair held Serena’s gaze, full of don’t say anything, don’t touch Humphrey. But it was too late. Chuck exposed the cut, the faultline and the Upper East side pus, that wound to poor Humphrey.

“Look, Serena, stop trying to pretend you’re a good girl. So you slept with your best friend’s boyfriend. I kind of admire you for it.” Chuck grinned, sleaze oozing from the compliment. 

Humphrey’s eyes hardened. Blair was stunned. So he was a good boy scout. He was good. He asked if it was true. Serena, in her own true fashion, remained silent. Serena couldn’t keep her hands in a cookie jar for too long without Blair walking into the kitchen. So, Blair helpfully spoke for Humphrey, advocating on the shadowy side. 

“Well, then she ran away. And lied about it.” Blair clarified, just to particularize for the crowd, a crime read out to the tribunal. “I just thought you should know. Before you fall head over heels for your perfect girl and her perfect world. Then get left all alone with no one but your Cabbage Patch Kid.”  

Maybe Serena and Jenny knew how to ruin men. Humphrey shoved Chuck, sending a waiter crashing down and Blair laughed at the resulting whispers, silence, storm and pictures in front of the elites. 

Humphrey hit Chuck at the last party. He had something to do with the yellow bruise blooming under Chuck’s eye as Jenny’s name was thrown in thrice. Maybe this Jenny girl had more stripes than Blair thought. Besides, Humphrey was just as shocked and betrayed as Blair was. He even caused a scandal, a behaviour codified in the social script of the four usual suspects Blair, Serena, Chuck and Nate. Well, as much as a push can be a scene. 

Blair scrutinized him, pleased. Maybe he’s just as bad as us, Blair mused. Blair can respect when someone acts out. The crowd glaring daggers at them could not. Upper East Siders play mind games, hands off and definitely not the unwashed hands of a no-name outsider. 

Humphrey registered the aghast faces and attempted to shrug it off. This was a blow to Serena and Humphrey. When the silence persisted, Humphrey said; “It’s fine, it’s fine. Everyone can stop looking. He’s a jerk.”

Chuck glared harder. 

“But it’s my fault and I’m leaving,” Humphrey announced.

Well, outsiders can see the door when they come in. Blair, born in this room, knows this room is the only place she’ll want. Besides, the Palace has amazing architecture and great mimosas.   

“I’ll go with you,” Serena offered, voice small.

“Actually I’d prefer you didn’t,” Humphrey said and he was gone. 

“Hope you’re happy,” Nate quipped towards Blair. Instead of apologizing, asking questions, and giving a thought to fix it— he was sarcastic. 

“Not even close.” Blair sniped. 

Later that night, there was a ring on her finger. Despite all of Sunday afternoon and yesterday, Blair won. Blair sunk into his expected embrace, eyes closed at the affection of it. Nate never did get that refill for Blair, though. 

xoxo 

5. Hallways of Trust 

Blair made up with Serena after scheming, almost outing Eric’s suicide attempt and ruining her chances of ever attending a real Ivy. Her minions nursed her fake sprained leg, alternating between hot and cold packs. Nate wasn’t talking to Serena. He wasn’t talking to Blair either, so. Well. 

Humphrey served punch at the Ivy Week Reception. She conspired with Chuck but that got old. Her mother wasn’t back from Paris. Her grades were perfect. She missed Serena. She had minions, a co-conspirator, a boyfriend,  but no friends. Except for Serena. Blair only cared for Serena, no matter how much she hated her. Okay, she didn’t hate Serena. She missed her so she had to hit Central Park, all Prince’s Purple Rain lyrics and familiarity.  

So, Blair read out this letter as an armistice attempt. She remembered the other letters addressed to the fire. This one was the one to make it out, show Blair’s sincerity and hurt— equally. She couldn’t be all Keats and expound on failure and pain.  

Dear Serena, 

My world is falling apart… And you’re the only one who would understand. My father left my mother for a 31-year-old model. A male model. I feel like screaming because I don’t have anyone to talk to. You’re gone. My dad’s gone. Nate’s acting weird. Where are you? Why don’t you call? Why did you leave without saying goodbye? You’re supposed to be my best friend. I miss you so much. 

Love, Blair. 

Serena claimed she didn’t know what to say to Blair, that she wanted to call and she was sorry. She wanted to be friends. Blair only wants that, too. She loved Serena, yes, her sister hurt her and she couldn’t brush it under the rug. 

Then Serena was on display, in the window of Breakfast at Tiffany’s in her dream, being waited on by Iz and Katie, looking beautiful in cobweb black lace.

Blair woke up to Serena making her mother laugh, eating scones and having an amazing brunch. She oogled her mother. She didn’t know Mother was coming today or that Serena was either. Two of the most important women in her life were horrible planners. Bendel offered to carry Mother’s line and Eleanor hadn’t told her. 

Blair dared to eat a croissant in front of Eleanor and she was told to “tuck into a low fat yogurt” instead. Blair had repressed a sigh; she had lost two pounds during Eleanor’s time in Paris. Mother said she looked marvellous, too.

Blair had wondered, not for the first time, when she was going to be enough, as she was. And if there was a way, why couldn't Eleanor just say it. After years of being... inadequate, Blair still can't quite figure it out. 

Mother dutifully sat on the couch and ate with Serena, a whole breakfast then she followed Serena to the rack of her newest designs. Blair wasn’t sure if Eleanor would be back for long but Serena was invited to return when Eleanor was fully unpacked. Blair wondered why she felt frumpy in her pristine robe. Then she heard Mother say to Serena, “I would love to hear your thoughts. You do have great personal style.” 

Suddenly the raspberry she chewed was nothing but seeds. At that moment, Blair promised she would never go into fashion. Not at least until her Mother invited her into her world.

In the almost inhospitable Nolita, she worried about it, carrying bags of her future outfits. More headbands never hurt anyone. 

It was nice to talk to Serena. She’s so endearing when she wasn’t being a mess and she kept up with Blair’s zingers. She was soft to Blair’s edges. Something easy when Blair wanted it hard. So, in the spirit of their truce, Blair fondly told Serena how men stared at her all morning and other worries. Serena had a way of beautifying her Mother’s behaviour, understanding the aspects Blair didn’t. Maybe that’s why she could see the intention behind Eleanor’s actions, not the hurtful results. 

Blair knew that woman like a daughter. “She likes you more than me,” Blair told Serena, almost laughing at the excuses. 

Serena frowned. “B, she does not. You’re her daughter, she doesn’t like anyone more than you.” Serena claimed. “She just, I don’t know, doesn’t know how to show it sometimes.” 

Blair almost pinched Serena’s cheeks at her naivete and heart. Ah, her sunshine sees nothing but sunshine. 

She left into Nolita’s, got her vision assaulted and burst out to tell Serena; “It was disgusting! The DOH should shut them down.” 

“The bathroom?” 

“No, the people. It’s called Nolita, not No Showers. ” 

Out of the corner of Blair’s eye, Humphrey materialized from the concrete and skyscrapers to threaten Serena with mellow 90s hipster references. Whatever hipsters opine about. She got it; Humphrey and Serena speaking. Was Humphrey a stalker? Why did they keep on talking? New York had a million people.  

“What are you doing here?” Blair threw out accusatory glances Humphrey’s way. “Do I smell pork? And cheese?” 

It was coming from that suspicious bag. Humphrey met her eyes, slightly discomforted and slightly awkward. Did she break up a flirting session? God, this was embarrassing to be seen with Humprey.  When Serena was made up with Blair, maybe she broke bread with Humphrey, too. 

“ Well, when you’re done with your charity work, why don’t you come find me?” Blair said to Serena and hoped the ponchos were vogue at Tory Burch. 

All at once, Blair remembered why she held onto Serena. Serena overheard Laurel gabbing to Eleanor, talking about American Apparel, Vera Wang’s paltry models and volunteered Blair as a model. 

Blair smiled at Serena. Serena genuinely changed. Made amends. Did the damn thing to take 12 steps towards forgiveness.  Eleanor and Serena made her the New Face of Waldorf for Bendel’s. Mother smiled. She was even more excited the next day, prepping in the mirror with Iz and Katie for the hair-makeup test. Blair felt effervescent. 

“Who dare interrupt the Van Der Woodsen as she teaches?” Blair swooped in and took the phone, laughing as Serena grabbed for it. 

“Dan. Humphrey.”  

Blair’s smile dropped. This Humphrey was persistent. And he had a deep baritone, she hadn’t noticed but it translated over the airwaves. He kept on popping up! So she said, “I’m sorry, the number you have dialled is no longer in service.” 

Blair told Serena she was doing her a favour. Serena must lose the charity case. 

“Look, I can hear you. Can I just please talk to Serena?” Humphrey said, ever-patient.

Blair nearly hung up until she saw Serena’s bitten lip, bright eyes and growing blush. It meant one thing; Serena liked this one. Unfortunately!

“Apparently you can, Cabbage Patch.” she snickered. All was well. Her mother, her Nate, her Serena and her New York felt good. 

xoxo

Apparently, across the ether, Humphrey had mentioned Blair to his father for the first time. Blair wasn’t sure why but Humphrey told her it was around Junior year. 

“I don’t know about Serena, Dad. I can’t tell if she’s worth it.” Humphrey said, after Serena missed their movie date to help Blair. Which she should have, Blair stated helpfully. Dan didn’t agree but when does his opinion matter, right— 

Notwithstanding, Rufus asked, “Worth it? What do you mean?” 

“Well, she’s best friends with this girl, Blair Waldorf...who is basically everything I hate about the Upper East Side distilled into one 95-pound, dough-eyed, bon mot-tossing, label whoring package of girlie evil.” 

“No one’s that bad,” Rufus said, always diplomatic and unbearably kind.  

“She is,” Humphrey assured. “I’d barely be exaggerating if I told you Medusa wants her withering glare back.”

“Well, if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that… Usually, there's something beneath the surface with people like that to make them act the way they do.” 

“Like what? The O.J in her mimosa was from concentrate, not fresh-squeezed. And what does this say about Serena, that this is her best friend?”

Rufus inhaled sharply and admitted, “I dated a girl like Serena once. Actually, a lot like Serena. And girls like that are challenging, it’s true. And they’re… complicated and enigmatic. And usually worth it. And the only way you’ll know for sure is to jump in with both feet.” 

“What happened with you?” Humphrey ventured. 

“I swam for a while. Till I drowned.” Rufus finished. 

“Oh. Well, thanks, that’s a great story, Dad.” 

xoxo 

The next day, Blair found an abandoned hallway with exposed white brick and a semi-clean hardwood floor. The air was still. She didn’t care that she invited dust and desolation into her lungs. She sat down in a pile of despair. 

Her heart hurt, indignant and mad at herself for having hope. Terry, Laurel and Mother replaced her this morning. She could handle that. Serena didn’t think and took the offer from Eleanor. No forethought, just like her mother. Eleanor — not Mother anymore — promised steak frites and crepes at Cafe Desartistes to make up for this. It was just business, nothing personal. Blair wasn’t good for the brand image. Blair wasn’t good enough to be made of Eleanor’s brand, to be of Eleanor’s blood. 

Some people just breezed through life, pretty and privileged, loved by all who see them. Blair has to put in work and it backfired half of the time. Serena’s luck appeared as if by magic. An absolute thaumaturge. Blair worked hard for everything she wanted and then it got taken away.  

She couldn’t cry, she just stared at the brick wall. She used to think she was a fortress. But she was crumbled— comme une pâte brisée… 

Blair looked up and saw Humphrey of all people approaching her instead of consoling his golden girl. 

“Oh. Did Serena send you here to talk to me?” Blair groused. 

“No… Believe it or not. I actually came here myself.” Humphrey said, sounding just as shocked as Blair was to hear it. 

“Normally, I wouldn’t be this close to you without a tetanus shot,” Blair claimed. 

No responses. He had wide, innocent eyes, spiky gelled hair and sincerity in the line of his shoulders.

Humphrey then slid down the wall, just as dirty as her now, just as immunocompromised (though he was used to this dust as he was poor), just as low as her. Rarely has she had someone to comfort her these days. She doesn’t talk to Nate about her problems and Chuck isn’t worth speaking to. Serena was M.I.A and maybe they’re not fighting right now because… Serena was definitely misled by her mother, which wasn’t out of the realm of any possibility. But it sucks. 

There was dead air, something unknowable to both Humphrey and Blair. Here she was, unarmed with her green dress pooling in her lap and the urge to rip out her hair. There Humphrey was, taking up the usable oxygen in the bowels of this godforsaken building. 

Blair pouted even harder. The only person in the world who came to see her was Humphrey. A tête-à-tête with a BFF's fling, someone she shouldn’t even know. He blindly witnessed her second most recent embarrassing moment because of Serena. They aren’t friends, strangers, lovers, nor enemies. Just… Just. She doesn’t think of him at all and he chose to come here. To her.  

Not Mother and Serena, those who had to apologize, dogeza style. Blasted Dan Humphrey. 

Dan cleared his throat. “My, uh— My mom kind of left us a couple months ago. Only my… My Dad, my sister don’t really see that. ‘Cause she told us she had to go away for the summer to follow her dream of being an artist. But it’s not summer anymore, and she’s still up there… And it’s all she seems to care about right now. Every time I go to see her, I tell myself, “This time, I’m gonna tell her what I think.” This time I’m going to look her in the eye and say, “Either come home or leave for good.” And so there I was. Just the other day, I was sitting across the table from her, looking her in the eye. And I didn’t say anything.”

Blair sat up from her overt slouch, less defeated. Humphrey had an interior world full of the dysfunction she now knew despite wanting nothing to do with him. But she wanted to know why, she was sucked in by zappy, punchy monologues, the real.

“Why not?” she asked, because she was curious.  

“Uh, I don’t know. But I wish I had. Because even if it didn’t change anything, she’d know how I felt.” Humphrey finished. 

His eyes implored her, do it afraid, do it, don’t make my mistakes. Blair leaned against the wall, a chill to her bones. She didn't know teenage boys had the capability of giving advice that was holistic and not at all morally dubious. Humphrey was encouraging her to be honest. To Eleanor. Blair also didn’t get why he was being so honest to her, when they both disliked each other deeply.

“—onder,” he whispered, as if admitting something to himself. 

Nothing in the English dictionary meant onder. 

This incomprehension snapped her out of the moment. This idiot made no sense. 

Blair suddenly looked up, realizing her thigh was exposed to the elements and Humphrey’s view. They met eyes again and Blair couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes were a colour she didn’t recognize and care to know.  He knew more about her than the average person should. He cleared his throat and she got up. 

Blair nearly stumbled as her legs were nearly numb. Out of the corner of her eye, Humphrey’s hand shot out to help her.  She corrected her balance and thanked all her years of walking in heels. 

Blair — of course —  walked away like nothing happened. 

Blair later told Eleanor how she felt and saw Humphrey on the roof, offering a craft service plate to Serena. It was strange. Blair joked about Humphrey’s hair and shoes, but she wasn’t looking down on him. Well, not that time. 

xoxo

6. Lofty Ideas 

Blair didn’t see Humphrey again until he pushed some Wall Street douchebag away from her. The girls hit up a new club and played truth or dare. Her soiree went off with a hitch. Humphrey’s B.F.F Vanessa Abrams matched his fashion aptitude and somehow liked Humphrey as a friend.  More than a friend.

However, Blair had bigger things to attend to. November, the season of the Scorpio, has been an utter calamity. Surely an act of God. She danced a burlesque number, becoming a coquette, meeting Chuck’s stare, drank too much and kissed Chuck. Held his hand on her birthday, too. 17 and holding Chuck when she still wanted to give Nate the chance to marry her. Blair then confessed to a priest, walked away absolved and still a WASP princess. He said, “Don’t drink, keep your clothes on… Try avoiding those who might cause you to stray.” 

She planned to. Then life happened.

Blair’s birthday was cursed by the constellation of doom-makers Chuck, Nate and Mother. The Captain had just gotten arrested. The Bendels deal was threatened.  Nate didn’t call at midnight (like he did every year, even with a time difference in Paris, New Zealand and Montreal, even the Canadians knew of Blair’s love for Nate). Blair rode Chuck in the back of a Limo. Nate confessed to Serena at the masked ball. Blair hated, hated   little Jenny, that interloper wannabe. The Archibald family ring was beautiful. She stopped going to see Dr. Sherman. Blair picked up the Valentino cap-sleeve dress and the box had a velvet lining. Chuck sucked six hickeys into her thigh crevice. Kati’s brother’s place was Wabi-Sabi meets fabulous and her 17th birthday got over a hundred exclusive RSVP last spring. Nate wanted to marry her. Chuck got her an— the Erickson Beamon necklace. Blair slept with Chuck again. Blair wished Nate got back together with her. Nate got blasted on Gossip Girl. Blair kicked Serena out of Thanksgiving because she was so judgy.  

And now, Thanksgiving, the only holy date of the year, was ruined because Eleanor was a psychopath who couldn’t handle anything that wasn’t a dinner party where she chose between die-cut or tented place cards.  November 22nd, 2007 was a disaster. Yes, Blair decided to sleep with Chuck as revenge. It didn’t matter that he gave her 4 orgasms on the orange duvet. Blair ruined her purity with him, Serena’s judging stare was the last thing she needed!     

Then, Mother had uninvited Daddy and given his pie, his pie to the doorman, then she ate too much of that pie alone and binged and then threw it all up in the bathroom.  She called Serena, instead of dry heaving by the crown moulding of her tub. Despite Blair, Serena came. She sat down, hugged Blair and let her sniffle. Serena was the only one in recent memories to give her forehead kisses and remind Blair to take her pills. 

Serena already had a cab waiting so they took the commute to a place that would qualify. It was Dan’s humble, very humble abode. It was so opposite to Blair’s beautiful apartment. Her penthouse overlooked Central Park, right on Fifth Avenue. 

Mother was a host and Blair was born to host. It was in their bloodline to organize parties so everything was like a showroom, perfectly arranged, dressed up and untouched. Her vanity never has a speck of makeup or use.  The lounge was flooded with light and highlighted the old-world charm at dusk. Blair prized her romantic cabriole-legged pieces and historically interesting fitments. Rare and exotic fineries lazed on cabinets and looked down on visitors. Every appliance was avant-garde and ultramodern. 

Blair had even painted the walls with Daddy one summer before Greece, putting their love between the layers of paint. Yet. Yet. She couldn’t even get close to the love built into this loft. 

This shoebox, or Humphrey Loft (as Serena kept on interjecting on the way up the stairs) was… eclectic. Boho. Typical of hipsters, Blair tutted to herself. Then Blair registered, Boho and comfortable, lived in. 

The double barn doors opened to a modern yet vintage array of darkwood cabinets, clay cups and plates on a long gray kitchen table. Records spilled off of the shelves, multicoloured and matching the books and posters of gone or sooner forgotten bands and artists. 

Disrupting the unfeasible cohesion of the decor, Lily van der Woodseen, a blonde woman and a shaggy older Dan look-alike stared at them with varying degrees of upset on their faces. They all seemed ready to yell or fight with claws. 

“Hi, guys, I’m back and I brought Blair,” Serena announced. 

“Hey,” Blair said, because she had manners. Not that she respected Lily (she knows what Lily did while married to the third stepfather) or strange adults, Blair was invited into a home. Even if it belonged to humdrum Humphrey. 

The three adults were cross and an oppressive tension bore down on them like a miasma. So tension was a given on Thanksgiving in any household, huh? Classic. 

“Weird vibe. Okay. Where’s Dan?” Serena said and tugged Blair to Humphrey. 

Serena fearlessly opened the  — bedroom? —  door and she was met by a burst of pink, blue and lounging Van Der Woodens and Humphreys. Serena gravitated towards Dan and settled on his lap, comfortable on the (third! third!) satin-covered chaise.  

Blair observed with fascination as Dan curled a hand around Serena’s waist. Blair hasn’t done that with Nate… since forever. They haven’t touched so casually since… Blair can’t remember. She never forgot things. When was the last time they kissed? 

“Serena and… Blair.” Dan’s voice dipped with dissatisfaction when he saw Blair.

“Yeah. It’s me.” Blair sighed cheerfully. It was very novel to see how the other half lived. 

She inventoried her surroundings as the bunch talked about how Lily and Dan’s father probably slept with each other.  But she couldn’t help it. “You know what’s really weird, there’s a garage door in the middle of your room,” Blair told Dan. 

He was mildly peeved but who could take him seriously? He was swallowed up by the chair, the Amazon on his lap and the gloss of pink. 

Blair then noticed a Cabbage Patch Kid, hair fire-truck red and tucked into a mounted bookshelf. “Oh! Is that Cedric?” Blair cooed, crossing all boundaries to get there.  

“Well, this day got a whole lot worse,” Dan grumbled and was promptly ignored. 

On the way, Blair stumbled upon a beaten up copy of The Iliad of Homer. She flipped the pages and it was marked up, lines down the spine and well-worn and well-loved in certain places. Funny comments and lamentations. He didn’t put dog ears and he followed the proper channels to preserve it. All the foxing and oxidation didn’t take away from its beauty. Just like the other books on his shelf, across the divided room. 

She knew this was college reading level and no junior cared to read it. Except for Nelly Yuki. Blair flew through the pages the summer before Daddy took her to Rome. 

In the accurate translation of The Iliad of Homer, translated by Richmond Lattimore, Humphrey wrote in the margins, a popular quote. 

“There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover's whisper, irresistible-magic to make the sanest man go mad.”

Surreptitiously, she flipped through the pages. He highlighted some of her favourite passages. Blair threw a glance at him. How did he understand this? He was a high school boy! What did he know about yearning?

How many times did she ask Nate to read this with her? How many times did he say no? Blair wondered fiercely. She had the strangest urge to throw the book across the room. She just glared at it in her hands.

Serena asked more clarifying questions while Eric and Jenny talked about their parents. Yes, her life seemed more sane in comparison but it hit her. Serena on Dan’s lap, Eric and Jenny laughing, the smooth 90s dreamy pop playing down the hall interspersed by adult contretemps… Blair was alone on Thanksgiving. 

If she couldn’t spend time with her family, maybe she could talk to Nate. God knows he wasn’t having a better time with Anne’s icy stares. 

As she rushed to leave the room and to fill Nate’s inbox with another message, she passed the living space. Communal, it was. Two overgrown 70s sales chairs (one creased leather and another brown velvet with a towel pointed towards a Chesterfield sofa) suggested they sat facing each other. Talking. A fierce wave of bitterness hit her. Mother couldn’t even get her ex-husband, Blair’s father, to visit. Blair couldn’t manage it either.  

All these brick walls, comfy beds with berry pillows, mismatched art were everything‐- held together by familial bonds. Blair hated that. Everything was alive and coloured brightly. Like a junk box, they were all thrown together and Blair was here by accident. She walked past the shelves to a dining area with many photos of Dan, Jenny and the blond with his dad, to Dan and Jenny’s room.

All of the photos of her family got taken down when Daddy left. 

Blair had a moment to fret and brood while waiting on Nate until someone disturbed the dust and quiet corridor. 

Humphrey.  

“I thought you left,” Dan said, caught off guard. Up went his brows as Blair shifted her angry glare to her ringing phone.  

They both looked at the screen. Nate didn’t answer. It displayed Nate’s Caller I.D to Humphrey’s view. Damn the Orange LG ENV’s huge screen. That mousy sales rep recommended this phone to her and cursed her! She should’ve gotten a Razr like everyone else on Yahoo said! 

All of her calls to Nate didn’t go through. Was he screening her calls? Chuck didn’t call her unless they were between sheets within the hour. She didn’t talk to Daddy either. And all that pie was making her sick. Or was it the worn down rubber fumes on the bicycle tires going to her brains?

The universe conspired against her because Dan witnessed the moment with her, Eleanor and now Nate. 

Blair tilted her head, on guard. “Serena’s here,” she stated, daring him to say something about the exes, her familial situation or maybe that Serena was in the bedroom, laughing up a storm with her kid brother. 

However, Dan wisely didn’t throw any sticks nor stones and backed down. No challenge. Nothing spiteful. 

“I just needed a moment,” Dan said, crossing the hallway and slumping against the wall. 

Blair generously offered; “You could leave. All of New York is available.” Why are you here, with me again? 

“Apparently, it isn’t, you came to my house.” He dodged the question.

Blair acted accordingly. “Unwillingly. Unwittingly. Serena brought me here. She is especially charitable during the holidays.” 

Dan raised a brow after blinking owlishly. 

Blair sighed dramatically. “If I had it my way, we would be at The French Laundry. If you knew what that place was, you’d be too.”  

“Ah, because we all must bend to your taste,” said Dan sarcastically. 

“ Yes. Your loft is only big enough for Cabbage Patch Kids and records. It’s crowded. Dilettantish, even.” 

“Yes. Again, my house,” he repeated. “What more do you want?” 

Blair scowled. “What did you want? Also, I’m in the hallway. Not your loft, Humphrey.” Blair harrumphed. 

Uncomfortable, Humphrey scratched behind his ear. “Unfortunately, a popular meeting spot. Apparently.” 

Suddenly, that social blundering charm that fooled Serena was back. Charm? What? Blair bristled and the book she forgot about fell from her crossed arms and onto a shoe rack of cracked Doc Martens. She didn’t know leather could become that dry.

Blair picked it up and dusted it off. Thank God none of the yellow pages tore.   

Dan cocked a brow in surprise and he stared fixedly at her for a couple of seconds. What an unrelenting stare with brown eyes. Boring eyes… designed to peel someone’s hide. 

Dan cleared his throat. “That’s my book. Taken. Well, every Upper East Sider has a white collar,” he snarked.

White collar crime, huh? Blair hated how apt and bookish he was.   

Blair rolled her eyes. “I loathe that accusation. I had it in hand and— I don’t steal from the needy,” she hissed. 

Dan looked at the book pointedly. “How the mighty have fallen.” Again with that smart-aleck mouth. 

“It wasn’t my choice. Let me call Serena and we’ll go somewhere else,” she snapped, relishing the pure panic on his face. 

He threw up his arms in surrender. “Hey, hey, you can stay. I invite you. It’s just, Serena’s mom and my mom, they’re going at it and—“  

Another angry shriek from Lily reverberated through the loft. Lily was probably clutching her pearls and “Rufus”, the father kept on getting yelled at. 

“— spreading seasons greetings and notions of merriment on the holidays.” he sighed, rubbing the side of his head.  

“You writing a Hallmark card there?” asked Blair. 

“Would you steal that too?” he chimed, his eyes glittering.    

Blair rolled her eyes, a smile threatening her lips.  He can very well do a verbal sparring match. 

Blair handed it back to him, knowing her copy had the same level of care and markings. She nearly asked him if he was a skinwalker. She couldn’t get Nate to read anything for the life of her!  

She shut her phone once more after checking for another message. "The service on this side of purgatory is bad,” she told him, aware he watched her being desperate.  

“Hey, we got books and music. And, uh, they’re playing my music to hide how loud they’re being…. It’s not working. At least they tried.” Humphrey’s attempt at casual and nonchalant was belied by the line between his eyes. He set the book down on the bicycle seat. 

Maybe her family wasn’t as bad as the Humphreys. Better than Serena’s. Maybe her ocean would drown their pools? She couldn’t compare too harshly. Moreover, it was sad they were all products of broken marriages and parental dysfunction, assembled in a half-room of a teenage girl wannabe.

The ensuing silence was sobering.  

“Vraiment prenez-vous tant de plaisir

À me voir souffrir?” 

Blair’s head shot up. She couldn’t hear it until now but she recognized those lyrics! Was this a cover? And the girl had a botched pronunciation of English and French. Her airy vocals were smooth, slowed-down dreamy, enchanting. 

“—Love me, Please Love Me,” Humphrey informed her, uselessly because she didn’t ask. 

Blair blinked as the air became awkward. That sounded like a love declaration. How did he know she liked this song?  

“What?” 

“By… It’s, uh, Poison Girlfriend’s…”

Blair tilted her head. 

“If you’re searching for the singer, type all lowercase “I’s” in Poison Girlfriend. You were saying the lyrics. Or I presume the lyrics since it’s all croissant this and francophone nonense that to me. But it’s… You knew them,” he babbled.  “Just so you know, Poison Girlfriend—” 

“I don’t want to know what.” Blair snapped. 

“Who’s the poison girlfriend?” Serena laughed, seeing both of them in the hallway. “Surely not me, I hope.” 

Dan’s neck nearly broke trying to get a look at Serena and they met eyes, smiles as big as their faces. They were locked in their own world. Serena flung herself on Dan’s back. His eyes glowed with gaiety upon first contact, knowing immediately it was her. Blair would rather bleach her eyes than think about their easy affection. 

“I was looking for you, B. We’re gonna get a bite to eat. What’s going on out here?” Serena asked Dan. 

Blair huffed. “I’m trying to call a cab. My driver has a day off.” 

Dan paused, eyeing Blair’s face. Blair watched him, wondering if he’d do what Blair would; throw the stone and sticks at the lie. Dan didn’t. Instead, he turned to Serena. “You are not my poison girlfriend, I was talking to myself about this song. And I needed to ask my dad for cash. ”   

Blair snickered. What a loser. Dan’s eyes flickered to her with disdain. 

“Wait, you put this on before,” Serena recalled, much to Dan’s delight.  

Sensing Blair’s condescension and Dan’s rising indignance, Serena had a pathological need to smooth it over.  

Serena clapped her hands and smiled like an idea struck her. “Blair likes French music. It’s not my taste per se but Blair likes it. I’ll wager she even likes this one.” Serena reported to Humphrey, still on this kumbaya high.  

“I’ll find one band you’ll like, just you wait,” Humphrey promised. 

“Please continue showing me and burning CDs.” Serena dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll like one.” 

“My Bloody Valentine’s next.” Dan squeezed her waist. 

“Dan,” Serena drew out the ‘a’s’ in his name and smacked his shoulder. “We’ll have a great Valentine’s day. Totally not bloody.” 

“Nuh, I mean. It’s shoegaze— but yeah, er, this song is by Poison Girlfriend. She’s fantastic and she blends—”

Ceasing his nerd rant, Serena covered Dan’s mouth.“How about you give me the CD and I’ll listen to it. Later.”

Dan’s eyes swelled with love, magic and that Sappho madness. He kissed her hand and then cheek. Blair just knew it wasn’t Serena’s type of jam.   

“It's a cover of Michel Polnaraf’s song. We play him in French club, remember?” Blair told her helpfully.

Did Serena not focus in French club? Serena promised she would work on her conjugation homework after Blair’s minions typed out a study guide, replete with French New Wave film recommendations. Nobody lived until they watched Breathless by Jean-Luc Godard.

“Who?” Serena squinted. Curse this girl’s space cadet brain! She was not into music. 

“Whatever,” Blair groused. 

Dan informed Serena, "This singer is Japanese but yeah, that guy hit it big in 1966. I’m talking culture changing big. Luckily, I snagged it from my Dad‘s haul when he went to Japan for an exhibition.”

Blair stiffened… He knew about French culture? 

“I love stopping by Japan! Did you go to Shibuya crossing?” Serena chirped, changing the subject. 

Dan’s smile twisted, amusement on his face because he’s never been to Japan. Has he ever been past Connecticut? 

“Ah, uncultured and under-travelled. S, you sure know how to pick ‘em,” Blair commented. 

Serena laughed at Blair while Dan’s shoulders squared. “Excuse my lovely best friend.” 

“Excuse me for what?” Blair wondered, totally clueless. She loved riling him up. It was so easy. 

Dan opened his mouth and Serena pressed her hands to his chest in a white flag waving mood. “Dan, be nice to Blair. She’s sensitive.” Serena cajoled, winding her arms around his neck.

They leaned into each other and she laughed, delighted as he kissed her temple. 

“Be civil. I would love it if my boyfriend and my best friend got along.” Serena told him sincerely. 

Dan shot an incredulous look at Blair's way. “Yeah. Sure.” 

Blair didn’t care. Blair was tired of them; they made her nauseous.  

Soon after, they went to eat and Lily stopped by. Blair took it as a sign to head home. Dan, Blair and Jenny waited on Main Street until Blair successfully hailed a taxi. They spoke in low tones and Blair thanked God she didn’t have a sibling to argue with on the holidays or riding shotgun. Yikes. Her heels nearly got caught in the cobblestone but she pushed through. 

On the way home in an infamous yellow taxi, Blair wondered about it. No matter how many times Serena and Dan kissed, she wondered if they connected mentally.  

Was Dan okay with Serena not caring to read the Iliad? Was Blair okay with Chuck and Nate not reading the Iliad? Was this frustration and skepticism about the Iliad? Was Nate like Serena? Was Blair like Dan? Their interests didn’t vibe. 

Blair tried so many times for Nate to care about botany, matinees, Greek Mythology, books, Shakespeare in the park or opera in the venues. Were they working on two different servers? She saw similar posts on LiveJournal about boyfriends who wouldn’t invest emotionally. Blair endeavoured to grow with Nate but he was like moss; gloomy, unchangeable, fragile. Chuck was a Venus fly trap, yet she couldn’t stay away from someone who sees her bad side and wants more. He... was so mysterious and dark. 

Serena and Dan seemed to meld with each other, filing down the edges where they don’t weld together. Serena doesn’t tend to look at the deeper differences between her and her partners. She believed love transcends mindsets, money and groupie/rockstar flings. But Serena and Dan’s parents swapped spit. Literally. They were dedicated to overcoming problems together. 

When Blair got home to her nearly empty penthouse, she called Dr. Sherman. She heard about the divorce papers in the mail from Eleanor. She couldn’t face him during the holidays. Eleanor admitted she felt alone and Blair hugged her. It was one of the first times she saw Mother cry. 

Last year, Daddy, Mother and Blair sat in a triangle formation on one side of the dining room table. Mother’s feet in his lap, Blair laughing at one of his jokes with amazing tea and specialty cookies. 

This year, she did the same with just Mother. Even if Mother was distracted and self-serving and she hasn’t met a single one of Blair’s teachers, she was Eleanor too. She had a life just as complicated as Blair's. Realistically, recently, Blair would also react the same way to a bad breakup. So, Blair tolerated a close hug and tea and biscuits on the nice china. 

Was it the nice pie that made Thanksgiving the best or the fact Daddy entertained Blair for hours in the kitchen, telling her about Yale and his lovely self? Maybe it was about laughing with Mother, all the craziness of this year, really talking for the first time in a year. Who knows? 

xoxo

7. Poisoned Partners 

Three weeks after Christmas, her life was at another rock bottom. She didn’t know there was a place lower than sleeping with Chuck. 

Daddy and Roman were set to be life partners in Lyon. She now understood why gay marriage should be legalized. They bought a vineyard and a cat named Cat. Nate turned himself in to the Headmistress Queller for Blair about the Pool Party. Vanessa got Chuck and Blair confessing to their sex crimes on tape. She paid Vanessa’s rent for a year and bribed her Ukrainian landlord because Vanessa wiped the incriminating footage. Blair was never in debt nor indebted to anyone. 

Anyway, she two-timed Nate and Chuck and had a pregnancy scare, like a bad Maury episode. Then Chuck and Nate dumped her after Jenny told Gossip Girl in blast #318 Blair was a slut. She was kicked off of her steps and uninvited from her first party. She has never been snubbed before. She wasn’t even pregnant! Spring break was over, she wasn’t pregnant and she still hadn’t regained her crown! 

Blair hit up Butai, seeing a glowing bar top and a debonair man bedecked in lilac. She needed Chuck right now. Bad. Chuck was always there for her whenever Nate was remote, Serena was on a bender. They shared an understanding. They were always there for each other, evil scheme or not on the agenda. 

While Blair came looking for sympathy, she must disclose his offences before the cuddle fest began. Chuck ruined her life and he had to own up to it, even if the baby wasn’t his. 

Between the danger and passion, there was never true bad blood between them, so Blair confided to him in a feverish moment. “I have no one to turn to but you.” 

“Actually, you don’t even have me.” Chuck spat. 

“Enough.” Blair sighed, beseeching. 

“I’ll try to be more succinct. You held a certain fascination… when you were beautiful, delicate and untouched. But now you’re like, one of the Arabians my father used to own. Rode hard and put away wet. I don’t want you anymore. And I can’t see why anyone else would.” Chuck then knocked down another shot and scowled even harder. 

Chuck leaked their sex life to Gossip Girl, ruining her reputation. While he wanted her as a pure virgin, he took that away and discarded her because of that lacuna. Many illusions about Chuck shattered that night and she wanted him more than anything. He was the light at the end of the tunnel. Almost Conrad like, she felt this darkness in him, different from her clean. 

Blair went home afterwards and cried to her mother about leaving New York. All 30 girls in her junior class were laughing at her about the ensuing betrayals and public humiliation. She stalked Nate’s position on Spotted and he slunk around Brooklyn since his Dad’s rehab centre was there. Everything was so over. All she thought about was that she had to get out of Manhattan. This Upper East Side cesspool was nothing. She couldn’t take it anymore. She asked Mother to study abroad in France. But Serena asked her to stay, rebuild, not back down. Remember who she was; a goddamn Waldorf. But she must be brain dead after all the weeping, chocolates and nights locked inside. She dared not leave the apartment for a couple of weeks.  

Blair was upset about the state of her social life until April.  Blair got the POiSON GiRLFRiEND albums from Serena who got them from Dan. Serena has been giving all of Dan’s mixes to Blair since Blair ran out of media to consume during her purdah. Blair felt like a dumping ground for Dan’s affinity for Morrissey, Radiohead and anything moody. Underground. Still, all of the recommendations from Serena via Dan were starting to affect her media diet. Maybe… Dan’s pea brain fostered an inkling of intellectualism. C'mon, Radiohead was amazing. She hated that he introduced her to British Art Rock.  

Blair began collecting anecdotes about Lonely Boy as a nobody. Serena adored him because he never shut up. He played soccer when he was young. Rufus has invited Serena over for waffles yet Serena hasn’t had time to. He makes references she doesn’t understand, but by the end of the sentence, Serena catches on. He stopped cutting his hair and got actual razors from Rufus and Allison during Christmas.

He leant into the neurotic, aspiring writer type by drinking Lorelai Gilmore levels of coffee. He was stressed out, all the time and fidgeted like a 7-year-old. She saw him bite on the eraser of his pen, like he didn't care about diseases. He recently named his favourite mug. Serena refused to tell her what the name was. He worked at his father’s Bedford Avenue Gallery on the weekends and sent out his poetry to publishers when he wasn’t occupied at school. He was the 2nd top student at St. Jude’s, just like Blair over at Constance Billard. 

They also slept together and Serena overshared about his “growing abilities”. Which was, ew. Serena limits Blair’s talk of Chuck’s abilities because they’re siblings, but this was lopsided! He was a Taurus, Serena told him (so Blair could know his character). Taureans were just nice Scorpios, not that she believed in zodiac signs too heavily. Blair cared about legacy and he latched onto things. For a long time. He’s had a crush on Serena for “his entire adolescent life” and Serena thought this was so sweet. Blair gagged.  

Despite PoiSON GiRLFRiEND’s whispy voice and sparse faithfulness to the original material, Blair replayed the song over and over again. She nearly got the artist on vinyl but vinyls are only for serious, classical music. Real music. 

She liked the non-real song Dan introduced at the failed Thanksgiving. 

“Love me, please love me

Je suis fou de vous

Mais vous, vous moquerez-vous toujours

De mon pauvre amour?”

She hated the song as it reminded her of Chuck and Nate, all the loves of her life. Serena complained on their call, “Even I know the lyrics now. Shouldn’t we play something else?”. Dorota kept the Godiva chocolates coming and Daddy called more. She even tolerated chatting with Roman, as long as he got Cat to meow close to the speaker.    

Serena promised she’d close and support her while she rode out the scandal, but Serena was distant, occupied with a stomach-migraine or another. But Blair was busy so she didn’t notice. Blair eruditely prepped for SATs in the middle of a war with Nelly Yuki and Little Jenny.  Blair had a laser focus on her studies. if she concentrated any more, she could feel the ink jumping at her fingers. Her present moment was a horror so she concentrated on the future. How she would get into Yale, take over the world by being a powerful woman who saved America. It was completely doable. 

Blair convinced Todd — Nelly Yuki’s ex —  to make Nelly Yuki stay up all night. As compensation, Todd wanted a date with Iz or Penelope. When Blair asked what Iz would be doing later tonight, Iz got offended and said, “Ugh! Not Todd. You remember I’m a lesbian, right?” Blair was respectful! Sometimes! Well, Iz has been a mess since Kati joined a kibbutz in Israel, leading to a long-distance relationship. Maybe Iz would’ve said ‘yes’ to Todd. Who knows? Blair didn’t feel bad whatsoever. As extra insurance for Nelly Yuki to fail , she removed the batteries from Nelly Yuki’s calculator.    

Blair walked inside of the test-taking centre feeling like a million bucks until she bumped shoulders with Dan in the second registration line. Serena has been out-of-touch with Blair these days, checking over her shoulders and her smiles didn’t reach her eyes. Most of all, Serena mostly talked to Chuck, in some coterie she hated. She even threw up peace talks between Blair and Chuck.

Dan was much obliged to have eyes on his girlfriend, maybe a text or two. Blair felt immoderate concern when she couldn’t reach Serena immediately. Dr. Sherman said it’s abandonment issues— a whole laundry list but she doesn't do laundry so it's null and void. Blair thought it was intuition and healthy to keep tabs. And what did that charlatan know about teenage bonds? 

“Hey, where’s Serena?” Blair said because Dan had to know. 

“I don’t know but I bet Chuck does.” 

Blair rolled her eyes. She did not want to hear about that Bass-tard before getting at least 2300 like Nelly Yuki. She didn’t accept anything less and Yale didn’t accept anything less than 1500 in 2006. 

“Ugh. Well, I’ll try to save a seat for her.” Blair told him because if he wanted to sit by Serena, tough luck. 

“Yeah, I’ll keep calling.” 

Blair almost made her way to the testing room, but she just remembered. She didn’t have a way to get updates on Serena through Dan. 

Blair beckoned him. He didn’t move. “Give me your number,” Blair commanded.

Dan hesitated, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Well—” 

“We’d both rather call each other than get much needed info from Chuck. Now give it." Blair snapped her fingers. 

Their hands brushed, sending a shock up her arm as he placed it in her hand. “Here.”

She navigated his phone and inputted her number. “That was easy,” Blair told him and tossed the device back.  

He met her gaze, uneasy. Always uneasy. 

“Disclaimers!” Blair said sharply. “Don’t abuse this privilege. Don’t give it out. Don’t tell people you have my digits or that we know each other. This is strictly for emergencies.” 

That puppy dog look was back. “You think this is an emergency?” Dan said softly, searching her face with genuine concern.

Blair put her chin up. “It won’t be because I’ll make it so…  Just keep trying her.” 

Blair turned on her heel and did some breathing exercises. She didn’t do all those oxygen facials and Korean bathhouse scrubs to tense up on such a big day.     

She heard Humphrey throw out an earnest; “Good luck on the… You’re ignoring me.”

Blair moved faster. Half of New York’s new gen was here. They couldn’t be seen, lest a scandal appeared out of nowhere.

They didn’t talk until walking through the crowded exit of Hunter College, in step with each other. He wore a similar outfit to hers. Her smart embroidered cream blazer, layred with a silver blouse matched his sandy button down and gray undershirt.   

“How’d you do?” Blair asked Dan. 

Dan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Not my finest hour. I finished, but I kinda had a lot on my mind.”

Serena? Was he also worried?  Blair said, “I’ll keep calling.” 

“Yeah, I think I know where to find her.” Dan pressed forward. 

Blair filled Serena’s voicemail once more. “Hey, S, it’s B. Now I’m really worried. I’m gonna go home and change and then…”  

She saw something… that broke her heart. Vanessa and Nate, cozied up on the curb before they ducked into a limo. Vanessa’s stupid pleather jacket and Nate’s preppy, ironed collar. Nate smiled at Vanessa so warmly, it brought spring back to New York. 

All of the things he’d never give Blair until Serena didn’t want him. God, she hated Vanessa. Nate, too. 

“Call me. Bye.” Blair advanced so she was shoulder to shoulder with Humphrey. 

Both of them, watching Vanessa and Nate. 

Blair and Dan met eyes, caught staring at their past love interests falling in love… preferring each other. Nate had only glared at Blair since November and Vanessa— don’t get her started on that communist. 

If they both hadn’t met Serena, Nate would’ve come over and studied while Blair rewarded him with kisses between flashcards and rants about Charade and Sabrina. Even if he didn’t score in the 90th percentile in the SATs, Blair would’ve gotten him close to 85%. In another life without Serena, Dan would be studying with Vanessa, doing God knows what in her tiny rent-controlled apartment.  

They looked away, caught by something and the someones they couldn't have. 

Later, Blair didn’t worry about Chuck or Nate or Serena because she wasn’t invited to Asher Hornsby’s party since Jenny was on his arm for the week. She had to consult Humphrey about littler Humphrey. 

She found him by the courtyard, as Serena dashed away. 

“Dan Humphrey. Just who I hate to admit I was looking for.” Blair pressed a light hand on his chest as he made moves to follow Serena.

He moved with her and grabbed her hand to peel it off of his chest. She dropped it like a rag doll. Why did she touch him?   

Anyway, “You’re dirty,” said Blair, smirking a bit. 

Confusion spread across his features. “What are you talking about?” 

“Cheating, drinking, drugs— all fair game. But outing your sister’s boyfriend is dark. How did squeaky clean Humphrey come up with that?”  

Dan looked wildly stressed. “I didn’t come up with anything.” 

Dan’s eyes shifted and he was visibly dismayed. Dan was an outsider, as he didn’t hold lies and discomfort as the Upper East Siders do. Blair was born lying and Dan didn’t know how to hide his thoughts. Blair also was amazing at arm-chair psychology so she knew he was lying.  

“Oh, my God. You know something. Spill it.”

After a two-second struggle with the nearly visible angel and devil on his shoulders, Dan relented and gave in. “Yeah, I might have seen Asher kissing another guy,” he confessed. 

So he was gay? Or “bi-sexual” as Iz and Kati told her they existed. Positively went on and on about New York queer life. They try to make her read Judith Butler and Blair doesn’t have time for that. 

“So it’s true? Who was he kissing?” Blair just had to know. 

“I don’t know, I couldn’t see. But what does that even matter?” he asked innocently.  

And Blair was compelled to educate the lost.  “Right now Gossip Girl’s credibility is the same as Tinsley Mortimer’s after a few martinis. But if I can prove his duplicity is more than just a rumor, then they’ll break up. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” 

Again with the conflicted face. “Well, yeah, I guess.” 

“Asher’s just using your sister as a cover. It’s your brotherly duty to save her from becoming the next Katie Holmes.” Blair warned him.  

“And you’re in this to help Jenny?” He sounded so doubtful. Because duh, she wasn’t. 

Blair blinked with feigned innocence. “Motive is irrelevant as long as our endgame is the same.” 

Dan’s expression hardened. “No, Blair, this is not a game to me. Okay? I don’t want her to get hurt.” 

What a judgmental hypocrite! He was partially to blame for the exposé on Asher. Rattling on his sister to the internet and advocating for her honour IRL. Why was he acting above them? God, boy scouts pretend they’re not in it for something, playing the game.

“Well you should’ve thought that through before you told Manhattan Jenny’s a glorified hag.” Blair countered. 

“You know what? You’re on your own.” Dan grabbed his stuff from the concrete table with an audible huff. “I’m done.” 

“Suit yourself,” Blair told him primly. It was all coming together that night and she luxuriated in the win against the freshman. Apparently, Jenny didn’t know what to believe in anymore. Blair believed in herself and her closet. She crushed Little J and everything felt satisfactory until Serena stopped by awfully late. 

xoxo 

8. Ringtones or Rings? 

Dan came over once more, calling Blair all morning. She didn’t answer all night either. 

Blair ran across New York trying to find Serena. Blair’s toes pulsed in their heeled confines and she drank so many coffees to keep her eyes open. Serena revealed she killed a man. Blair rushed to get one of her mother’s Valiums, get all the verities, but Serena was gone from the foyer.  Blair called Chuck and Nate in a panic because she needed them. It was, in fact, an emergency. 

Serena missed the SATs because of Georgina and relapsed into her old bad girl ways. Georgina got Serena on a snuff film, bolting when a guy died after a line of coke. Serena felt so bad after drinking and sleeping with Nate that night. Georgina accrued that guilt and twisted it into pure blackmail material. 

Georgina was insane. Chuck too, for sleeping with her. Georgina crept into Dan’s life as well as “Sarah”.  Serena never acted like herself around Georgina, but she was a hot mess two years ago. 

All that aside, Blair felt so guilty she didn’t see or ask about Serena’s psyche these past few months. Blair was busy with the tortured process of winning Nate back and falling and lusting after Chuck, she didn’t have time for Serena. Yes, Serena ran away, but Blair could’ve been there for her! Serena was so sunny and free-spirited that Blair hadn’t imagined something so painful had gripped her core. It was Blair’s job to keep her out of trouble and she missed the ball on this one. 

Serena told Dan about her sin the day of Lily’s wedding, but Blair had a plan to get the bitch back. Dan called and Blair finally picked up after contacting Georgina’s parents, hell, even the Coast Guard or any uniformed service to take Georgina down.  

Blair ordered Dorota to clean the penthouse extra well, until the Queen could lick off of the floor. She didn’t want to invite Dan over for a scheme but he was imperative to the plan. Blair hemmed and hawed about calling him to her domain since he was on the outs with Serena. She had been to his place, barged in. He came to her place during the pool party but left with Vanessa. Now he was finally invited to hers. Dan surprisingly agreed to her plot. Well, what man in love wouldn’t go great lengths to avenge Serena’s honour? Dan was startlingly loyal and steadfast. Even after Serena lied to him for months. 

Dan spent the night with Georgina, manipulated but Blair coached him through a script of careful hook, lines (not Georgina’s preferred cocaine lines) and sinkers. 

But at that moment, Blair sat beside Dan. She had to be close enough to hear her responses just in case Dan flubbed his lines and ruined the takedown. This meant their chairs were pressed together. 

He finally pressed call. “Voicemail.” 

“Okay, like we talked about.” Blair ordered. 

He nodded. “Hey! Hey, it’s me, Dan. Um. After you left, Serena and I got into a huge fight. And she said all this crazy stuff. I honestly don’t know what to believe. But what I do know is I wanna see you. So call me.” 

“Excellent work. She’s totally calling back.”

“This is so weird. I don’t normally… do plots against people.” 

“Don’t worry, virgin. I’ll talk you through it,” she sneered. 

The phone rang. 

“Right on schedule.” Blair chirped.

“So sorry about this morning with Serena.” Dan started.

Blair was beside him, close enough to see his five o’clock shadow. Chuck and Nate always remained clean shaven, something she thought she preferred.  His jaw was symmetrical like Serena said, despite him grinding his teeth at night (due to anxiety).  He was solid for a brooding artist, his arms filled his cheap button-up. The fabric soaked up this… scent. It was different from Chuck's Dior Fahrenheit. Was this the cologne Serena gave him? L'Eau d'Issey pour Homme, she recognized.

Okay, the cologne was pleasing. But what got her was his eyes. She thought they were ordinary, inexpensive— brown but here, it was comparable to sunbeams passing through brown sherry whiskey. More like a vintage 1930s Chanel No. 5 bottle with the flecks of green and yellow. What a deep, warm brown. But there was something else there … 

What was that? Blair thought. No, seriously, what was that? 

Dan glanced sideways at her and she snapped out of it. Blair instead concentrated on listening to Satan herself on the line. 

The present moment called her out of her thoughts as Dan said, “That was very awkward to say the least. Last night really changed things for me. Serena and I left things kind of uncertain… So I think I wanna end it. I know I do. Will you meet me?”

Georgina pondered and Blair felt her skin crawl. What did he mean by “end it”? There was a breathy pause and Blair leaned in his space, her head resting on his. 

“Our spot in the park by the pond?” Georgina finally settled on. 

“See you there,” Dan said and ended the call. 

“Humphrey, you are a born liar!” Blair complimented. 

“Thanks…  I think.” 

“All that stuff about last night was genius. Anything you wanna tell me?”

“Uh, no. Like you said, just born to lie.” 

Blair didn’t want to give him the third degree but if duty calls, she’ll become Patty Hewes from Damages, her favourite show. It's only the best show to record and sabotage her studies (by an infinitesimal amount) for. 

Currently, Blair wonders if this is when Georgina and Dan agreed to be forever intertwined in each other’s lives and Georgina got the idea to baby trap him. Because if Blair caught onto more of their connection, she could’ve saved herself years of trouble.     

At that moment, in the chair, Blair remembers looking at him then ducking her gaze. Those eyes were dangerous. 

Blair cleared her throat, projecting power instead of whatever that was. “See, now we’ll go back to you two being nauseating in the courtyard and Georgina will be in a reformatory. You can celebrate each other at Lily’s wedding.” 

Dan slumped into the upholstered chair. She wouldn’t have thought his world was collapsing if he didn’t seem like Atlas. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. Was he thinking about Serena’s usual duplicity to Blair but new to Dan? As Serena leaves, she never goes with grace. She left a trail of bodies and disasters. Her name rhymed with many hurricanes.  

Blair observed him. Was he having something more than a moral crisis? He was lost in his thoughts for a moment. He looked just as lost as the Brunch. 

Hesitating, he opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Serena, she lied for months. How do you… move on?” Dan asked, sincerely. 

Ah, about Serena skipping town to boarding school and then again, scheming with Chuck instead of coming to Blair, who could handle it. Blair locked all of that anger somewhere else and forgot about the key. Dan was her boyfriend… Do boyfriends expect total honesty outside of the Upper East Side? That sounded exhausting. If you asked Blair, secrets maintained a relationship. At least, that's what Chuck told her after they had limo sex.

Blair looked at Dan, unamused. “I have done far worse things than Serena since last Tuesday.” 

“I don’t doubt that.” Dan chuckled softly, pained. 

Blair smirked. “You have lunch at James Beard after taking Georgina down. You move on by going to Lily’s wedding in a rented suit, and pray her guests don’t notice, and then summer break happens. What’s your point?” 

“That’s not moving on— and that is rude. You haven’t seen my suit.” 

Blair shrugged. Still.  

“You know what I mean,” Dan sighed. 

Blair did but she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. “The secret is; you love her, I love her. We forgive and move on.” Blair told him, like the sky is blue.  

“You… forgive ?”  Dan seemed astonished. 

“Why else does the world turn, Humphrey?” 

Dan shot a disgruntled look her way. “You are the antithesis for letting go of grudges.” 

“And you’re the poster child for being Serena’s boyfriend. Best boyfriend. You’re good for her. Now you must be good to her. Why quit while you’re ahead? Serena is worth it,” she said forcefully. Because there wasn’t anything else to say. 

Dan’s eyebrows stitched together, agitated. “Give me some credit. I’ve tried the best I can. It’s been amazing until Georgina, seeing her world, and… Now I’m scheming with Blair Waldorf and meeting Georgina. That’s a narrative of decline.” 

“Tch. Be grateful. Few people are involved in the planning process. Plus, I am always honest. There are no losses by making the world a better place with my honesty and schemes.” Blair told him. “But you…” 

“I am honest.” 

“No, you’re judgmental. She doesn’t need that right now. She’s been going through a lot.”

“Let me get this right, you are telling me to lie,” Dan clarified. “What caused this in the first place?” 

Blair rolled her eyes. “Give it time. You never really stop loving girls like Serena.” Blair pointed out the obvious. 

Matter of fact, Blair could never be done with Serena but this was her best friend, her sister. Men on the other hand, fell in love with Serena. Love too much or love her less, Serena stayed on your mind. Was she a hot party girl who entranced men and lived on being a man eater? Or was she a blonde goddess magnet full of charm, bubbly laughs and sweetness? Serena was a fantasy, messy and more perfect as they got to know her. Blair, on the other hand, saw the worst of Serena. 

Blair remembers this when she tries to pinpoint when they stopped being close friends in their twenties. It was later, surprisingly not about Dan. Besides, Blair sees she was very angry about Serena leaving. Blair didn't realize for years. 

“I know, I know. I just want to understand her,” he said, so earnest and persistent. 

“You take whatever you are given and learn when you learn at the right time. She isn’t perfect.” 

“Yeah, I’m finding that out.” 

Blair looked at him seriously. “You make her happy. That’s all I care about. What’s Serena’s is under my purview. So don’t screw it up, Humphrey.” she warned him sharply. 

Dan’s eyes wandered her face, traveling with unnerving thoroughness. She had no idea what he thought of her at the moment. She wasn’t being judged but it wasn’t appraisal either. It wasn’t neutral. She didn’t know how to react. 

Blair’s phone rang and it played that beautiful, haunting tune they both knew. Half-exasperated and amused, Dan watched her sntach her phone off of the table and hide the loud device behind her back. Stupid technology. Wasn’t it supposed to make life easier? 

Dan leaned in, his cologne swirling around his collar. “Not bad for a Humphrey, no?” he ribbed, smirking, because he was Dan Humphrey and he couldn’t help it. 

They met eyes as the last of the intro played out, oddly intimate and paradoxical. It clicked… The exact colour she wanted to pin down. 

His eyes burned like… smoky quartz. 

And it hit her, he needed to be culled out of her life. It was aesthetic, aesthetic, aesthetic. Nothing else. She didn’t dare let it be anything other than aesthetic… attractio—

Nothing. “You need to go. Immediately. Central Park. Now!” Blair commanded him. “Scram!” 

Offended and surprised by her sudden onslaught of yells and expletives, Dan collected his stuff and left. 

Alone in the dining room, Blair acknowledged she had something of a helter-skelter life. She never, never looked at someone and became dumbstruck. Inarticulation was impossible for her. She didn’t know what she was confused about. So it didn’t exist.  

Were those gunshots in her penthouse or her heart beat that hard? Was she stupid, flustered because of his physical proximity?  Even for a moment, how dare someone take her words away? A Humphrey at that!  

What an odd thing to happen. Blair quickly wrote the instance off and forgot it ever happened, because it never did. Summer was a series of hating men, burrowing in the Hamptons, far away from the heartache of Chuck, New York, the Humphreys. It helped. What it helped, Blair will never, ever know.