Ever since the end of the war, the Parisian elite had new aspirations for joy and debauchery. A new sense of freedom had washed away the bleakness and repression of war and the city was simply effervescent with the bustling of its bright and exuberant inhabitants. Very rarely was there not a music-hall show, theatre performance, operetta or circus show to attend and the upper class had never had so much fun. However, there cannot be fun without scandal, and anyway, what is a good story without a healthy dose of it? Lies, deceit, betrayal, heartbreak and love are what bind our protagonists' stories together, and what a scandalous web they weave. Let's hope they manage to keep hold of their dignity. This is Paris 1924, and it's going to be a bumpy ride.
Serena van der Woodsen
As she struts and smiles her way through the masses of well-dressed men and onto the stage of the burlesque club, everyone knows that our sweet little Serena isn't quite where she should be.
Serena van der Woodsen was one of the most infamous names of the upper class. The rising status of women had proclaimed her the most free of spirits and she had friends in all the wrong places. With the face of an angel and the grace of a ballerina; looks could never have been more deceiving. She was no stranger to Parisian nightlife and she was not afraid to shed her clothes when she got a little too drunk.
Many debutantes saw Serena's life as enviable; she broke all the rules in the unwritten book for young women of the upper class and yet she got away with it because she was beautiful. What they didn't know was that Serena was incredibly lonely; she craved the attention of the men she danced in front of because she had no real friends. Sure, she had the girls she regularly made small talk with and the beaus who she regularly danced with, but that just wasn't enough. She often wondered if her life would be so messed up if she only had someone she could confide in.
She watched as her colleague with the red hair danced her way towards the resident piano player and she knew that the alcohol had well and truly gone to her head, for she found herself making her way over to them; delighted to offer her services for the night.
Nate Archibald
Kissing the hands of a long line of potential young brides, Nate Archibald is the perfect specimen of an eligible bachelor. From his perfect teeth to his classic good looks; he has the heart of every beautiful debutante and every mother of every beautiful debutante in the palms of his hands.
From the outset, Nate's life looks perfect. What is there to hate? Pretty girls, harmless flirting, champagne, card games, friends in high places; but he was perpetually bored. He lived through the same mornings, afternoons and evenings over and over again. His mother was desperate for him to find a wife and so she arranged an endless amount of brunches, afternoon walks and evening outings; all with lack lustre girls who were considered to be perfect in the eyes of the ruling class.
What he really wanted was a girl who was interesting and intelligent and maybe didn't abide by the rules of society; a rebellious and powerful girl who knew more of the world than what was hidden safely behind societies closed doors. He'd heard about the girls who roamed the streets of Paris in the dark and, although he had no idea what a meeting would entail, he still longed to meet one.
He was well aware of all the changes that had come over Paris once the war had ended, people had a new lease for life and he would do almost anything to be one of those people. He longed to see how jazz music had captured the hearts of the world and drugs and liquor made everything more fun.
For now though, he carried on kissing the unblemished hands of some of the most sought after beauties in the city.
Chuck Bass
Stooped by the bar of the seedy burlesque club that nobody knows his father owns is where Chuck Bass spends the majority of his evenings. This sharp-eyed dissenter is what could be described as the ultimate "bad boy".
Everyone knew that he was bad news but with an absent mother and an uninterested father, it was hardly Chuck's fault that he was the way he was. The problem was, he made no effort to improve. His life was just a string of parties, women, fine clothes and alcohol; and he wouldn't have it any other way.
The parties that his social counterparts attended bored the life out of him and unless there were a few willing and foolish debutantes her could seduce and ruin then he wasn't interested. Cold and without a heart for feeling, he found the ultimate pleasure in sex and he provided the piano accompaniment to some of the greatest and most risqué jazz acts in the city. Debutantes everywhere thought that he was the incarnate of the very Devil himself.
Choosing to sleep all day and party all night, Chuck did not see much of the woken world and so he knew nothing of the manners and etiquette of the social class that his father was so desperate to seem part of, but although loathed to admit it, he was an extremely talented musician; the only thing his father would mention when speaking of his only child.
Leaning against the bar in the dim, smoky room, he studied the whores who danced so seductively from man to man, just hoping that one of them might be willing to pay their nightly wage in return for their body. He saw someone that pleased him, a pale-skinned redhead with just enough make-up on so that she could be distinguished as a whore. He caught her eye and she sauntered forward. He inhaled from his cigar and blew in her face so the serpents of smoke clung to her clothes and she knew that she had found her client. Not long after, a leggy blonde made her way over and smiled at them, and as Chuck wouldn't want to be seen as rude, he gladly grabbed the waists of both girls and led them down into the private rooms.
Blair Waldorf
The rising popularity of the cinema is something that pleases our young, naive and beautiful Blair Waldorf a great deal.
Although she couldn't deny that she loved to be dancing the night away with the generic "eligible bachelor" type, all she really needed to be content was an evening spent in front of the newly discovered silver screen watching in awe as glittering men and women lived their lives in ways far more exciting than anyone she knew lived theirs. Her chaperone this evening was her much beloved maid Dorota, because the great Eleanor could not possibly risk her daughter being seen out in the city alone at night.
The life Blair lived was sheltered, she knew not much of the infamous Parisian nightlife apart from what she had read and watched of it. Who was she to know that the portrayal and glamorisation of it in books and films was a far cry from the dark and dangerous truth of the matter? She knew nothing of brothels or nightclubs, of strippers and burlesque dancers; she knew nothing of the pleasures of sex and drugs or the corruption surrounding jazz music; all she knew was what she had been told: she should stay out of Paris at night.
Walking through the streets of Paris at midnight was a magical experience for her, her senses were more alive than ever and she was aware of all the carriages carrying her drunk social counterparts back home from an evening of the most expensive entertainment, of all the soon-to-be-engaged couples giggling and whispering in the gardens of huge houses and all the rich men smoking and murmuring through the windows of opera houses and hotels.
What she wasn't aware of was the enticing world of the cities hidden hotspots; the underlying menace that made late-night Paris truly electrifying. Poor Blair could not see the rich men that sneaked through the dark laden with expensive gifts to the houses they had bought for their mistresses; she was not aware of the girls who danced with their legs bare in gentlemen's clubs and she knew nothing of the kinds of people who attended such gatherings so late at night.
