A/N - So much inspiration just because of one scene! I forgot how much fun it can be to delve into such a damaged character. Unlike my last DS oneshot, this one if from Serena's perspective. I think I'm going to stick to oneshots for a while, seeing as I write them better than multi chapter fics, and they're less responsibility. Can't wait for Monday, enjoy.
Takes place one week after episode 6x05, Monstrous Ball. This can be considered a companion one shot to my last DS one-shot, Golden.
She wonders why she was never deemed "lonely girl". It was certainly a title very fitting of her. She felt lonely all her life, with only the occasional break from it. The bartender sends another martini her way, and she glances at it for a moment before pushing it away. That one would be her fourth for the night. She couldn't do that.
But then she saw Blair's face as the two seemingly made up, and Blair declared she wanted to be a bridesmaid. For a second, as they hugged, Serena van der Woodsen hadn't felt lonely.
So much for no more martinis. She reaches over, plucks the olive out and pops it in her mouth. As her hand reaches back for the glass, another hand pulls it away from her.
"You've got quite the collection of glasses there." Says the voice belonging to the hand. He stands before her eyeing the three empty glasses by the one full one, which his hand is holding protectively.
"It's none of your business." She says under breath, ready to ask for another one.
"Is it making you feel any better?" He asks sliding the glass back towards her. Serena looks at him, then back at her drink. She shakes her head, pushes it back towards him.
"You can have it." She's already drunk, or tipsy at the very least. She felt like the loneliness just perpetuated whatever state she was in, making it so much worse.
Dan Humphrey knocks the drink back, taking the seat beside her at the bar. "What are you doing here, Serena? You said goodnight to me and went to bed less than an hour ago."
"Exactly. I figured you would've been sleeping, not following me." She rolls her eyes, but it makes her head hurt so she stops.
"You can't just take off like that."
"Why? Were you actually worried?" She's not drunk enough to miss the sarcasm dripping from her voice. She turns to look at him, sees that he's actually hurt. Her lips come together in a hard line; she will not apologize for hurting his feelings after he spent the last year mangling hers.
She let him stay with her because he had no place to go. Despite how badly she wanted to, she couldn't turn him away. The downside to all of this was that he was now walking around their new apartment in his stupid plaid boxers, judging every move she made. It had only been a week, damn it.
"Serena, you need to be careful. You had a bad break up, don't spiral because of it." He sounds genuine enough, but he's only making her mad.
"I'm not upset about Steven." She says curtly. For the first time that night, he looks surprised.
"I thought he was the most important thing in your life."
"Yeah, I thought so too. But I'm not upset enough over losing him for him to be that important. That's how I always know when a guy is not what I made him out to be. The hurt never lives up to the romance. I'm always off balance." She really was always off balance, and not because of the drinks.
"That can't always be the case." Dan says, his brow furrowing, probably running through Serena's various exes in his head.
"It wasn't. There was only one guy who ever broke my heart, besides my dad of course. But that's different. And I'm looking right at him." She signals to the bartender for another drink, which he quickly starts making. Why not pull out all the stops, tonight? She'd lay it all on the table. She literally had nothing left to lose.
"What about Nate?" He's grasping for straws and she knows it.
"I broke his heart, not the other way around. No one's come close to you Dan, I've said way too many times and you never seem to absorb it. But, things are different now." The new martini is in front of her, but she doesn't reach for it. "You know what, can I just have that bottle, over there?" She points to the bottle of gin that the bartender had been making her drinks with.
"You want to buy the whole bottle?" he asks her, looking a little apprehensive.
"Don't worry, I can handle my liquor. Put it on the card I have on file." She starts to get up, proud that she manages to do it somewhat gracefully. He hands her the bottle and she starts to walk away.
"Serena, wait!"
She stops in her tracks, just by the door. "What?"
"Want some company?" he asks, walking to her side. His eyes bore into hers, and she wonders if its nostalgia that she's reading in them.
Company was supposed to stop you from feeling lonely. But lately, no one's company had really been doing the trick.
"Sure."
The cab ride is short and silent. Serena instructs the driver to drop them off on the west side of central park. She grabs the bottle off the seat and doesn't even wait for Dan to get out before she's practically jogging into the park.
"Serena, you're going to fall over." He says once he's caught up to her. His hands find her waist, and he stops her from moving.
"I am doing just fine without your help, thank you very much." She tries to move away, and nearly trips over her own feet. His grip on her waist tightens, steadying her.
"You aren't doing just fine. I know you thanked me for being humiliated with you last week, but let's not make it a regular occurrence." He's teasing her, she can hear it in his voice, and it makes her relax. She slumps into his chest, tired. It's dark and cold, and the bottle of gin in her hand feels heavy. Right on cue, he takes the bottle from her in one hand, keeps the other one wrapped around her waist as he leads her to a nearby bench.
She thinks about her last Cotillion and how that night ended. She hadn't been lonely that night. She'd felt the safest she'd ever felt in her life. She takes the bottle back from him, taking a long swig. The alcohol is freezing, but it leaves her feeling warmer than before.
"Dan, I don't want to be irrelevant." She says after he finishes taking his own swig.
He looks at her, confused. "You're Serena van der Woodsen." He says, matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, and that used to matter." The next drink she takes is much longer than the first. He waits for her to finish before he says anything.
"It still matters."
"Not to you."
They've hit the crux. His mouth hands open a little. He runs a hand through his messy hair. He's nervous. He hadn't been nervous around her in long time, she knew that.
"It still matters to me." He says, finally. She throws her head back and laughs, genuinely. It sounds bitter, and she tastes it in the back of her throat. It's mixing with the gin in the most unpleasant way, and she doesn't even stop to wonder why it feels like she can taste her own laugh.
"I don't matter to you anymore. Look at everything you've said or done to me in the last year. It was silly of me to think that just because you took me out for a burger and some pie that everything would be different between us. I'm still irrelevant."
"Serena—"
"You look at me, and you don't see who you used to see. And yeah, sure, everyone grows up and changes but that's not what I'm talking about. You look at me and you just see every mistake that I've ever made written across my face. Everyone does. You want to know how I know? Because when I look in the mirror, I see it too." She feels the tears coming, tries to close her eyes so they won't come but they are too fast for her. Once the first few break the seal, she can't seem to stop the rest.
He reaches a hand towards her shoulder, and in her peripheral she sees him hesitate. He places his hand gently on the small of her back instead.
"I know people toss these words around so much that they've lost meaning, and I know that they can't erase all the damage, but I'm sorry. Serena, I'm really sorry." He gives her a small smile, and she hands him the bottle. He takes a long drink.
"I don't know what to do. I always wind up in the same place. I feel so defeated." Her voice is quiet, she's looking at her hands now.
"Be the girl that you miss. Be the girl that I miss." He says simply. He's looking at her mouth and she knows what's coming. Two thirds of the bottle is gone.
"Dan, please don't kiss me." She says, even though she's looking at his mouth too.
"Why not?"
"Because you'll hate yourself for it in the morning, and so will I." She says. She turns away from him, taking the bottle back from his hand without even looking at him. She brinks it to her lips, thinking that its mouth is not as nice as Dan's.
"Okay. I won't kiss you if you don't want me to." He says the words slowly, but she still almost chokes on her drink.
"It's not about that! Dan, I—" She loses steam halfway through her drunken declaration. She's tired. She's so tired. Her shoulders slump. The fight in her is gone. "Let's go home." Her voice is so low the wind could carry it away. He manages to hear her anyway. He stands up, reaches both hands out to her. She tosses the bottle in the recycling bin by the bench, and puts both of her hands in his.
"Can you walk alright?" He asks her.
"I haven't tried yet. But I probably can't." She says. Dan smiles, pulls into a tight hug.
"Come on." He says after a few moments, taking her hand and guiding her out of the park.
"I don't think we're ever going to be together again, Dan." She says. He stops cold in his tracks. "I'm irrelevant. I'm lonely girl."
He looks at her sadly, and for the first time in years, he looks like lonely boy.