Blair had just arrived home from school when she received the news. She was laying on her bed, absentmindedly flipping through the pages of Vogue. Her head was too full of Chuck to focus on anything recently. That's when her thoughts were interrupted by Dorota's heavily accented voice.
"Miss Blair," she said softly with a hint of sadness.
"Yes Dorota?" Blair responded. Dorota stepped into Blair's room and Blair was instantly worried. Dorota's usual happy demeanor was now pain stricken. Blair's left eyebrow shot up, "Dorota, what's wrong?" Dorota took a seat by the edge of Blair's bed and she sat up as well. Dorota covered one of Blair's hands with her own.
"Dorota what is it?" Blair demanded now getting anxious.
"Miss Blair, it is your mother," Dorota answered softly.
"What's wrong with her?" Blair asked immediately.
"She was in accident, on her way home from Paris," Dorota explained.
"Is she-" Blair managed to blurt out before her eyes filled with tears. Dorota nodded sadly and Blair removed her hand from under Dorota's and got off the bed in one swift movement.
"When?" She demanded trying to gain her composure.
"A couple hours ago," Dorota answered.
"Who knows?" Blair asked.
"Who knows what, Miss Blair?"
"About the accident, about what happened!" Blair snapped.
"I don't know Miss Blair, but I was told this five minutes ago."
"If you don't mind Dorota I'd like to be alone right now."
Blair watched Dorota get up hesitantly expecting some sort of break down and she looked like she was debating in her head whether or not to stay to comfort her, but she knew better so she quietly left the room. Blair sat back down on her bed staring at her wall in shock. Her mother could have not possibly died, right? She had left to Paris three days ago, three days ago she was fine. Three days ago was the last time she had spoken to her mother. Her mother never called to check up on Blair so she just assumed she was okay. Her mother couldn't be dead could she? It was just a misunderstanding. That's all, just a misunderstanding.
Blair got up and walked to her computer and turned it on. She started typing her most visited website but the computer finished it for her. She looked through Gossip Girl and found nothing about her mother. Good. That means it could still be a misunderstanding. She could still fix this before it got out of proportion. Blair ran her hand through her straightened brown hair and decided to try another website. She typed in the name of the website. She stared at the screen. She slowly typed in Eleanor Waldorf and hit the search button. Nothing out of the ordinary. Good. So it was a misunderstanding, that was all. Maybe just a crank call or something. Before ruling out the possibility of her mother's death completely she decided to try a French search engine. Once again she typed in her mother's name. This time what she found tied up Blair's stomachs in knots. The first result translated to: Famous Designer, Eleanor Waldorf Dies In Accident. The second result read: Eleanor Waldorf Found Deceased About Thirty Minutes Ago. Blair's eyes were too full of tears to read the rest so she shut off her computer and ran to the bathroom. She was crying and she needed some control so she turned on the faucet and shoved her fingers as far down her throat as they could go.
Half an hour later Blair woke up on the bathroom floor. She had fallen asleep from how tired throwing up made her. She felt empty. She needed someone to be with her right now. Blair got up and made her way toward her bed. She grabbed her cell phone and contemplating calling Chuck but figured Serena would a more appropriate choice. She waited for Serena to pick up but instead Eric's voice rang from her phone,
"Hello."
"Eric?" Blair's voice sounded hoarse and monotone.
"Blair?"
"Where's Serena?"
"She's out with Aaron, she forgot her phone at home."
"Tell her to call me." With that Blair pressed the end call button and threw her phone against the bed. Where was Serena when she needed her the most? Out with her new poet artist boyfriend. Some friend. She stared at the phone on the end of her bed. She could call Chuck, but she didn't want to bother him. She kept staring at the phone. On the other hand she needed Chuck right now. She decided to go against her instinct and grabbed her phone and dialed Chuck's number. Blair regretted calling after someone picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?" A familiar female voice rang out.
"Vanessa?" Blair asked still sounding hoarse.
"Yes, who's this?"
"Um, is Chuck there?" Blair asked hoping maybe she had dialed the wrong number.
"Yeah, hold on a minute."
Blair hung up and threw her phone against the wall. She sobbed into her pillow for a good twenty minutes. She lifted her head off the pillow and decided that if no one was going to be there for her she was going to comfort herself and forget all her problems. She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix her hair, then she went for her closet and put on a dark red Gucci mini dress and four-inch high heels, grabbed a coat and headed for a place where she could find relief, where she could escape.