I do not own Gossip Girl. I'm just using their stories to start my own up.

I opened the doors to my Cousin Blair Waldorf's penthouse. Newly furnished the Victorian style build gave the room a sense of class. It was perfect, not like I would tell her. As much as I wish we could have been friends, Blair refused. I walked around the room and stopped in front of an original Picasso Painting. I closed my eyes and thought about the last time I saw Blair.

I was about 6 years old at the time. My parents died when I was about 2, so I lived with the Waldorf family. We were at the park and I had wanted to play in the blue and green striped sandbox, but Blair said No because the colors would not match with her new coat she got from Barney's. Then I met Serena Vander woodson. She was gorgeous with her long blonde her and striking eyes she was an image of perfection. Blair not far behind with her beautiful brown ringlets and pouty red lips. Then you had me, the girl who could never live up to the rest of the family. I had brown hair with blue grey eyes, and to top it off I was PALE. Besides this, I started playing with Serena. Then Blair marched over to me, her Dooney and Bourke custom made handbag in one arm and a handful of sand in the other. She threw the sand at me and told me to stop stealing her friends. There were two boys behind her. They were laughing at me. I couldn't take the humiliation. I ran away. I stole some money and ran off to Italy. I was an ugly duckling in a city of swans. People gasped in horror when they saw me. I cried myself to sleep on the cobblestone streets of Italy. That was when I met him. The boy was about 19 years old, and God was he beautiful. His onyx black hair was swept back and his smile lopsided. Even at a young age I knew he was worth something. He told me his name was John. I was too afraid to speak. He took me in. Yes, the 19 year old teenage God took me in and took care of me. He became my father. He renamed me, fed me, bathed me, and tucked me in, the works. My new name was Sephora. Sephora Giordano.

Over the years, I had changed drastically. My limp brown hair turned into an array of waves of dark brown that glistened. My blue grey eyes gained the sparkle that every girl can only dream of. I received a tan so great that money couldn't buy it because it came as a gift from the Italian sun. During this, I started learning about my "Dad". John was an Italian supermodel. He modeled for all the top brands and he won God of the Year award in Italy. When I was 11, he was a judge. That was when my life started.

I was supposed to give the judges water when they needed it and at a specific time, so at my designated time I got on stage walked over and poured the water into their cups. I wasn't competing, but I won the Goddess of the Year award that night. I won it again 6 years running. I became a supermodel as well. I became bigger than my own father.

On my 18th birthday, I had an assignment back in, you guessed it New York. I dreaded going back. I cried, I begged, but my father refused to listen. He said I had to face my fears. So, I did. That is how I ended up here.

I knocked on the door, and my aunt opened the door. She looked me up and down in awe.

"May I help you?" She asked. I grinned a mischievous smile.

"Hey Nannycuppycake. I'm home." The Razr that my aunt held dropped as she screamed a scream of joy.

"JASMIN! Look at you! Oh my God you have changed!"

"Actually, it's Sephora now. Sephora Giordano."

"Sephora…beautiful name…where did you get that gorgeous tan from you must give me the name of the place you go." I smirked. If only she knew.

"So, where is Blair?" My aunt hesitated for a bit, then answered

"Well, she's upstairs in her room, are you sure you want to see her? I nodded. I walked past her up the oh so familiar steps. I could never forget the hollow thud that sounded as I went up the stairs in my Manolos. I walked up to the French Double Doors and knocked. Through the clear glass I saw a brunette turn around. Her ringlets fell in a shapely manner around her shoulders and own thin lips were painted the same pouty red. This was Blair Waldorf. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Do I know you?" She asked. She checked me out. I was so used to it that it didn't faze me. Many were in awe when they saw me and sometimes I wish they weren't.

"Hey Blair puss, remember me?" Her reaction almost matched the reaction of her mother's, except for the fact that her scream was out of frustration not joy. A guy came out from under the bed. His golden hair was all over his face and he looked tired. Hmm….I better not ask.

"Jasmine?" He said. "Hey! It's Nate. Remember me?"

"Of course she remembers you sweetie" Blair said. "You laughed at her when I threw sand at her."

"Hey there Nate, actually I changed my name. It's Sephora now." I said completely ignoring Blair. I would deal with her later.

If there was one thing my cousin never learned, it was that the saying "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" is completely true.

I opened my eyes. I was looking at the same Picasso. I smiled to myself and walked away. I needed some rest. This would be one hell of a week