"Are you well dear ?" he whispers over a flute of champagne. She nods, curls hitting her cheeks dusted in pink.
"Smile then" the tone is barely more icy than before, but she knows. It's a command, an order. She places a small smile on her face, fake and believable, and he turns back to the guests, satisfied. She wants to sigh in relief, but knows he is watching her. Chatting with everyone seated around the too large table is exhausting, but she is used to it by now. She has a mental list of topics to go through, endless and the product of routine and fatigue. She expertly tells witty tales of her youth in New York, just scandalous enough, and turns to Louis, lacing her fingers with his, saying "I'm glad that is all behind me and that I have you now." with an artificiality in her voice she hopes someone will notice. She's screaming for someone to see, please, isn't it obvious? But no one sees. And so she speaks of their country house in Bourgogne.
Blair Cornelia Grimaldi knows how to fake something. She's had time to learn in the last ten years.
One of the duchesses asks again of her life in New York. "Was there anyone special, before Louis?" she indulges a small smile. "No, no one could be as good as Louis." she chuckles and thinks of three words, eight letters and deep brown eyes and pocket squares. "No one could compare, no."
"It's good to see you, Jenny. How is London?"
"Wonderful and exciting. How is burying yourself in New York and buckets of ice cream?"
"I remember why I didn't miss you."
She punches him in the arm and Dan smiles down at his sister. Time and distance from New York have done her well. Her blond hair shines in the sun rays, her eyes are clear and her smirks seems unchanged. He puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her into the loft, and they sit at the counter like old times. Her life in London seems amazing, she's happy, he sees it.
"What about you? Dad says you're in depression."
"I'm not in depression. I'm just..." he covers his face with his hands.
"I don't know Jenny. I'm sick and tired of being gossip girl but I don't know how to get out of it. It's all useless."
"Then quit it. Stop posting."
"I can't. It's all I got."
"Dan that's so sad. You need to get yourself a life! I can help you. Come on, let's go out!" she urges.
"No, Jenny, no. I haven't posted in few hours and I have so many tips coming in."
"Dan... why is this so important to you?"
"I just told you."
"I don't buy it. It's not just because you don't have anything else. You can have something else."
He shakes his head, tired. Something else walked away ten years ago. He needs a shave.
"I'm going to go pay Dad and Lisa a visit. But I'll swing by later and we can get dinner alright?"
"Sure, Jenny, sure. Have fun at Dad's." she smiles in response and he retreats back to his room, diving into his computer. 344 unopened emails. Great. He will do it, in a second. First, he goes back in time, finding a post about Blair and Chuck from high school. "XOXO, Gossip Girl". He misses them, he does. Scrolling up, Nate is fighting his grandfather. Serena has a fling. It's not him. He finds one post in particular, and stares too long at Blair and Chuck dancing, Blair clad in metal gray, Serena a blur of gold, and he sees himself smiling at her. She looks royal.
Maybe he keeps this alive because it's the only thing he still has in common with his friends.
"Bass Industries how can I help you sir?"
A silence and he swirls the ice in his scotch.
"That is excellent news. Thank you, thank you very much for your trust. We will take very good care of your investment. I'll see you soon. Yes. Thank you again. Goodbye."
"We got the deal!" he yells.
"That's wonderful! Congratulations!" she bents and kisses him softly. He smiles.
"I'll call for dinner. Want anything special?"
"No, order whatever you want."
He gazes at her. She's sweet and pretty, but it won't last, Chuck knows it. He does not truly care. He is happy for now. He got his deal and a nice girl to celebrate with.
Yes, Chuck Bass is happy. He is not as happy as he would have been with Blair. But Celeste has doe-like eyes that remind her a bit of her, and the quiet content of that is enough for now.
"Hi Serena. I'm leaving a voice mail, again. I was hoping we could all get together one of these days. Call me back alright? See you soon hopefully."
Nate strides through the streets, purposeful and sure. He was disappointed by them all. Dan was down a spiral, according to Jenny, Blair was living a glamorous life in front of cameras on the other side of the Atlantic, apparently forgetting them, Chuck was proper and that was suspicious, and Serena, well Serena was playing stepmother to a girl practically their age, somewhere nice and pretty, ridding herself of the alcoholic schemes of her past. He should have known that high school friendships meant nothing, but then again he has always been too innocent and nice for this world. Humphrey is not the sinless one of them. He thinks of his best friend who seems happy but in a given up kind of way. Like he doesn't hope to be truly happy again, so he just settles for a sugary foam of joy. Delicate, but fake. He heads for his office, smiling at the blushing receptionist. He doesn't know why he's been so set on getting everyone back together. It's a guaranteed recipe for disaster. Chuck and Blair, who stupidly missed out on happiness, seeing each other after ten years, jewels on her hands and resentment buried deep in Chuck's strange sense of calm. Dan, rotten by self-loathing and fear, and Serena still tall and beautiful, sparkly and gorgeous. Sometimes, Nate thinks he and Dan will never get over Serena. The elevator doors open with a chime. He knows, however, that none of their loves will ever glow as much as Chuck and Blair's. Tortured souls do match best.
His office is nice, but as he glances at his reflection in the window, that covers an entire wall, he sees a shadow of his reflection. And he looks like his father, like Tripp, like Grandfather, and he feels like he has failed at the one goal he had given himself when they all walked out of each other's lives. Never end up like an Archibald.
He glances out the window, and thinks, once again, that Washington will never be New York.
The garden party is a success. She revels in the feeling of Steven's hand on her back, warm and safe through her white dress. Turning to him she pecks his lips and leaves his side, getting herself some canapes and greeting some of her guests. Sage looks happy, laughing with her boyfriend, a charming young man she met at Princeton. Looking at her stepdaughter always makes her think of herself, back when she was at college. Even high school. It's not something pleasant to think about. She ignored Nate's calls and he hadn't tried again in two weeks. No, Serena didn't want to meet up with everyone. They were not friends anymore. What was the point? Awkward conversations about the weather and waking old grudges and nostalgia with just one glance. It isn't worth it. She doesn't want to face them after years of living without them, of living better without them.
She is healthy and happy and no one will take that away. And yeah her mom won't talk to her because Serena said her life was a mess and she had been lucky not to end up like her. And Eric was cold and distant and seemed to only beam when she wasn't there. And she would never bear children (Steven didn't want any more and so neither did she, they think alike don't they?) and the Van der Woodsen line would not continue on but she was away from the city and them and that alone made up for it. New York's lights would never glisten enough to lure her back in. She was different now. She was a woman, she was mature. She flattened her dress and went to dance with her husband.
Blair can't go a day without throwing up and the tiara will never be enough. Some days she fantasizes about that scar on Eric Van der Woodsen's forearm and thinks of "Who would even notice?"
Dan lives his adulthood through the adolescence he never had, and hopes that someday he will have the courage to seek them out again, to stop waiting for people who will never come. He knows he won't.
Chuck misses the danger and the girls and the bordel, but mostly he misses breakfast with Nate after a rough night, making fun of Humphrey and sharing a mother with Serena. Mostly he wishes he would have spoken up at her wedding and relives that moment every single day and night. "Or hereafter forever hold his breath". Some nights, he dials her number; tells her he objects; tells her he sees a just cause; but her phone isn't her phone anymore, so no one will ever know.
Nate lives the comfortable life he was supposed to live and tries not to think of his dreams and vows never to have children. He would never make a child inherit his name.
Serena hopes everyday her life will feel real tomorrow, but really it doesn't, and she knew she felt real then.
It has been ten years.