Disclaimer:
Disclaimer:
I don't own Gossip Girl. If I did, it might as well be called the Blair and Chuck Show. Or whatever.
Summary:
Set a few years after graduating from college, Blair muses about everything she's ever done and decides to write a letter to God.
Author's Note:
This is my first story. All kinds of reviews welcome, but I kinda like flames better. It helps me improve my writing. Constructive criticism, you know? By the way, this is based on the TV show.
Scandalous: A Letter from Blair to God
by Ashlie Rayeux
(a.k.a. rayeux)
What's wrong with me? I haven't felt this alone since Chuck left me that night for a couple of sluts.
What have I done to deserve this? The old Queen B has never been alone. But here I am, sitting alone on the park bench. I really don't know what I've done and I sure as hell don't want another scandal.
After my climb back to my throne, I've exposed Gossip Girl. I was a heroine for it. I showed the world what a snake Nate really was. I was venerated for it. But even if Gossip Girl is gone, people's tongues still wag.
The only wrong thing I did was, well, driving Jenny out. But what was so erroneous about that? She totally deserved it.
My Sidekick beeped. After several years, I just can't bear to change my cellphone. It had been there all along, almost like a friend. Almost.
The message was from Serena.
Serena: hey b, want 2 come 2 church w/ dan n me?
Blair: no thanks, s. i'm busy. n i'm not really catholic.
Serena: r u sure?
Blair: yep, see u.
What if all that "religion" stuff Serena and some of my other friends were raving about was real?
I flipped my phone shut and walked back to the Waldorf Astoria. "If anyone comes to see me, tell them I'm busy," I told my housekeeper and went straight up to my room. I ripped out a page from my Claire Fontaine notebook and took out a pen.
What have I got to lose? It's not like I'm gonna die after writing this thing. I ought to give this another try, even after that worthless confession. It's just a letter.
I took a seat on my desk and positioned my pen atop the paper.
Dear God,
I just wrote this letter to ask how are things up there. Okay, so maybe not just that. I'm asking You why I feel so weird. My life is finally the way I want it, except for Nate as my spouse and the white picket fence around my small countryside house with apple pies baking in the kitchen.
Despite Serena and my other so-called friends, I feel alone. Even when I was younger, I've always dreaded that word. Alone. There's just something so ominous about it. I hate being alone. Never mind the pressure, the scrutiny and everything else, I don't want to be alone.
Actually, now that I think of it, I only want one person back. Just give me that one person and I'll be a good citizen. I won't lie that much anymore, and I'll drink minimally. And I won't call Dan a glorified band geek anymore. I promise. I'll also quit being a bitch to my incompetent designers.
Do we have a deal?
Your loving angel,
Blair Cornelia Waldorf
P.S. I'll also pray occasionally. Hey, I'm a busy woman. It's the only way to go.
A knock sounded on my door. "Miss Waldorf, I know you told me to inform your guests that you're busy but there is someone here to see you. He was very insistent."
"It's fine," I replied. "Tell him I'm on down. I'm done with what I have to do." I checked my reflection in the mirror and reapplied my lipstick then went down the stairs.
I gasped.
No way. I don't believe my eyes. It can't be. God is real. I'm not a Jesus-freak, but I'm so believing in Him now.
"Blair," my guest started. "I know I'm the last person you expect to see right now and maybe you're still mad at me. But I'm here to apologize."
I looked him in the eye, expecting to see a world of lies. But the moment our eyes locked, there was nothing but sincerity in his beautiful brown eyes. "Do you forgive me?"
I frowned. "If you asked me that yesterday, I would have said no."
He looked down. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time," he said, picking up his coat and Burberry scarf then headed for the door.
"Wait," I said, still poker-faced. "But that was if you asked me yesterday." He looked at me. "How about today?"
I shrugged. "I guess everyone should have second chances," I said, smiling. He hugged me and I hugged him back. "Saturday?"
"It's a date," I replied, grinning.
Thanks, God. One, Serena. Zero, Blair.
Please review! And actually, the author is also not really Catholic. And I'm no Jesus-freak either.