AUTHOR'S NOTE: TV-verse. I'm sure lots of people are going to hate me for shipping this pairing, but I do. I'm quite sure there's no other Blaric fans around here ('cept for you Haritha, you better enjoy this, girlie!), but maybe (?) this will be enjoyable nonetheless. Set right after the pilot. A TwoShot.

Prompts used:a hershey's kiss and a Sunday afternoon at the Met.

DISCLAIMER: Nothing is owned by me. If it was, the TV series would have another main character: Sweetie, Chuck's shoulder-climbing monkey. ;)

A FADED PHOTOGRAPH

-A Gossip Girl TwoShot by: Honour Society

PART ONE

Life Without Nate Archibald

It was with a heart full of misery and longing that the city's favourite petite brunette stomped across the freshly-waxed halls of The Met. Pointedly ignoring the various bright yellow caution signs below eye-level, the self-professed queen begun pacing around the room. Several tourists - their I Heart New York tees a telltale sign - looked away from the inspiring paintings to survey the seventeen-year-old heartbreaker's misery.

One particularly brazen museum-goer mustered up the courage to ask the brown-haired beauty if she was lost. The teen socialite's brown eyes immediately hardened. Her red-painted lips parted and a nasty comeback that would've made Truman Capote keel over laughing in his grave was about to slip out. A warm hand on her shoulder made her mouth snap shut.

"Blair Waldorf," he stated. On the two inch heels of her pearl grey Belle by Sigerson Morrison boots, she turned to face the blond-highlighted boy. Her best friend's - scratch that, ex-best friend's - kid brother.

"Eric." She smiled tightly. "Long time, no see. How was Malibu?" A brief glance over her shoulder revealed that the nosy tourist was gone. Blair tried to relax. But it was near impossible. For one, she was Eleanor Waldorf's daughter. It was practically written in her genetic coding for her to be a frigid, uptight bitch. For another, hello. Her boyfriend and future-husband had totally cheated on her with her best friend. It was like a dry, used-up plot line from One Tree Hill or, even worse, Beverly Hills 90210.

Of course, she was positive that in ten years this whole Serena debacle would be merely a quip shared with their two-point-five children.

"Miami," he correctly quickly. She rolled her eyes. Malibu, Miami. Who cared? Was there even a difference? Neither of them was in New York, let alone on the East Coast, so she couldn't give a shit.

"Right." She was losing patience all too quickly. Her head was going to explode. Just pop off and explode. Wouldn't Page Six have a field day with that one? 'Heiress to fashion design fortune dies of spontaneous combustion.'

After politely muttering some half-assed excuse about a hair appointment, the brunette began to walk away in long strides. Her dark hair - which had just been trimmed, shaped, styled and coloured yesterday - flew about her shoulders like a kite. Albeit a kite that was very pricey to maintain.

"Wait."

That hand on her shoulder again.

Rolling her eyes exaggeratedly and placing a manicured, creamy smooth hand on her hip, she spun around in a circle to face him. His brown eyes seemed sadder than they did before his little trip. Back in the days when Serena and Blair were SerenaandBlair - Blair always the afterthought. Now, it's Blair and Serena. As in 'Blair despises Serena,' or, perhaps, 'Blair loathes Serena with all her soul.'

"What is it?" she said, her brown eyes blazing. She knew she looked good, even on the worst of the worst days, a red plaid headband still sat jauntily atop her trademark curls, so it should have come as no shock the way he looked at her. The way her stared at her like she mattered. Like the name 'Serena van der Woodsen' was unknown to him. It made her happy. When he didn't respond, she added in a more gentle tone, "What, Eric?"

"Nate did something, didn't he?" Eric asked, a hank of brown-blond hair falling in his eyes adorably. She looked down at the suede toes of her knee-high boots.

Was it so obvious? Was 'Nate's an asswipe' written across her forehead in indelible ink or something? Blair couldn't meet his eyes. He was Serena's little brother. He would take her side - defend that conniving blonde.

Ever since they were kids, Eric had been constantly tagging along. Even when they went on spur-of-the-moment jaunts to Barney's or Warren Tricomi's. Secretly, she suspected he was gay. Blair mentioned it to Serena once - when both girls had downed six flutes of champagne in a row. The buzzed blonde merely cackled. "As if," she had said with a flick of her glossy hair. Distractedly, Serena winked at a passing cute waiter, before snapping back to attention. "He likes you way too much to be gay."

Blair didn't have to answer. He asked the question in a way that told her he already knew what the answer was. Eric held on to his leather messenger bag tighter. Teeth clenched, his eyebrows furrowed. It looked like he was thinking a thousand things a second. It occured to her to ask what he was wondering about, but she decided against it. Whatever it was, she probably didn't want to know.

"Look, I've got to go." She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm going to be late."

Almost smirking, he asked, "Late for what? Your imaginary hair cut?"

Her signature smirk lit up her entire face, showing off the dimples she despised so much. "Okay, you caught me." She held her palms up. "I don't have anywhere to be, as pathetic as that sounds."

"Yeah, you do," he said in a small voice. "Right here."

And she smiled again. Blair imagined that her insides, her organs were smiling, too. Every last inch of her was glowing. It was nice to talk to Eric. After Serena left without saying goodbye or anything, any friendship they might have shared melted away into the grimy sewers of New York.

"Thanks." She really meant it, for once in her life.

He began to rifle through his cluttered bag. A packet of Kleenex twirled to the floor, as did his St. Jude's student ID card and a faded photograph of the trio - Blair, Serena and a much-younger-looking Eric. It flattered her that he kept it. Even if it only served to remind her of how photogenic Serena was and how photogenic she was not.

"Here." Eric held a single Hershey's Kiss wrapped in silver foil in the palm of his hand. "It's not much, but..."

"Thanks." Blair rolled her eyes. God. Was she always this repetitive? "Again." Using two fingers, she pinched the paper tail sticking out of the candy and moved it into her own hand. After removing the foil and paper, she dropped the chocolate into her mouth and swallowed. Blair didn't even plan on barfing it out later.

Maybe Life After Nate Archibald wouldn't be so bad after all.