It was supposed to be the social event of the season. The marriage of Blair Waldorf to Prince Louis Grimaldi of Monaco. It was supposed to be everything Blair ever dreamed of, marrying a prince. It was supposed to be a fairytale.
But then Chuck showed up, spewing words of epic and inevitable and it feels like Chuckandblair all over again. This is right, this is where I am supposed to be she convinces herself as she pulls a runaway bride and almost gets in the limo with him.
Instead she runs in the opposite direction and hops in a cab, leaving a church full of her friends and family behind. A midtown movie theatre is where she finds herself sitting hours later. What a sight to see-a society girl in her wedding dress hiding away in a dank theatre. She's watching The Philadelphia Story and pondering how she always thought Tracy Lord should have ended up with Mike. And how Mike seems to remind her of another judgmental writer she knows. That is when it hits her.
She barges in like she seems to have done so many times before.
"I brought Casablanca."
He looks shocked but all he can say is, "I'll get the popcorn."
Maybe this is what is supposed to be, Blair thinks. Falling in love in a loft in Brooklyn. After all, isn't there a story of a prince disguised as a pauper?