Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Josh Schwartz & Cecily von Ziegesar

A/N: I plan to do a chapter for the original six, Dan, Jenny, Serena, Blair, Chuck, and Nate. Other characters will be interwoven into their chapters.

Dan Humphrey, Brooklyn, age 30

Dan sat at his desk, staring down at his notebook and chewing at the end of his pencil. He hated writers block, and unfortunately he had it 76% of the time. His half empty coffee was growing cold and probably leaving a ring stain on the papers underneath it, but Dan didn't have room in his mind to care. Because instead of writing a story, the only words he could find in his head were is name which he'd written at the top of his paper like he was in school.

He wanted to write again. He wanted the words to flow from his fingers onto the page and to feel good about what he was writing. Or bad. Dan really just wanted to feel something along with the writing again.

The phone rang, upsetting the silence in the Brooklyn flat. Dan groaned and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his palms against his eyes. That was probably his dad. Rufus had moved upstate when he and Lily had finally gotten divorced. The retired rock star called his son constantly to check up, and Dan had taken to not answering.

The answering machine beeped and Rufus' voice flooded into the air.

"Dan hey, it's me. Listen, I wanted to know if you'd like to come up here this weekend, spend sometime with your old dad. I know I had a...a friend over last time you wanted to come, but I'm completely free now. Hey, maybe-" The machine cut Rufus off, probably because the machine was full. Dan hadn't erased anything in over a month. He shook his head. The friend that Rufus had at his house three months ago was pretty obviously his ex-wife. When Dan had called he'd heard Lily in the background. His father had quickly hung up, but he was a terrible liar. Dan didn't need or want to know about their convoluted relationship.

He stretched back in his chair, then got up, pouring his old coffee in the sink and putting on a new pot. His flat was considerably bigger than the old one he'd grown up in. With the money Dan had made off his last three books, he was able to afford a lot of things. Technically, he could probably afford something on the Upper East Side. Of course, Dan would never be able to live there morally.

His phone- cell this time- went off vibrating on the wood of the desk Dan had abandoned. He almost dismissed the call- figuring it was probably Rufus again- but a different name flashed across the screen. Serena.

He opened the phone, brought it to his ear. "Hello?" he asked hesitantly. He never knew who to expect from that number.

"Daddy!"

"Aimée!" he said, relaxing. His seven year olds voice was better to hear than that of a certain blondes, and he never thought that would be possible. "What's up kiddo?"

She giggled (like a four year old, Dan thought, before shaking all thoughts of tell me why you love me from his mind). "I'm sitting, on my couch, and Mommy is trying to cook waffles for us,"

"Is she now?" Dad said, raising an eyebrow.

"Mm hmm, she's trying to prove that she can make waffles as good as you," Aimée said gravely.

"No one makes waffles as good as a Humphrey," Dan told her. "It's a family trait,"

"That's what I told her!" the little girl shouted, causing Dan to hold the phone away from his ear. "But she won't listen!"

Dan closed his eyes as he sat on his couch, and imagined blue eyes and long dark blonde hair on a little girl version of his own face and smiled. She was the perfect combination of him and Serena. "Well next weekend we'll have waffles for dinner, then you can have the best,"

"Waffles for dinner? You're silly Dad,"

"It's- what twelve thirty? Aren't you guys having waffles for lunch?"

"No, Mom says that it's, um...brunch! She says it's brunch,"

Dan rolls his eyes. Brunch. He still remembers his first Serena Van Der Woodsen brunch. "Well I hope you have fun with you brunch,"

"Oh we will!" she assures him. "Afterwards we're gonna go see-"
 "Aimée, who're you talking to?" the faint sound of Serena's voice drifted through the phone.

"Dad, why do you wanna talk to him?" the girl said innocently.

There was a pause then, "No sweetie, say goodbye and come help me with the waffles,"

Dan heard his daughter's exaggerated sigh. "Mommy says I have to go,"

"Better do what she says then," Dan allowed, sipping his coffee.

"Are you gonna pick me up from school tomorrow?"

Dan nodded, then realized she couldn't see it. "Yeah, I'll be waiting. Then how about we go out to lunch before coming back to my place to finish your homework?"

"Can we go to your friends old coffee shop?"

Dan laughed at the mention of Vanessa's coffee shop that'd she'd owned after college. Saved up for what had seemed like ever just to buy it. It was under new ownership now- Vanessa had sold it when she moved back to Vermont- and was now a café that Aimée loved. "Sure kid, wherever you want,"

"Yay! Okay Daddy I have to go now Mommy's giving me a look,"

"I am not!"

"Okay honey, I love you," Dan said, somewhat sadly, to his daughter.

"Love you too Daddy, bye!"

"Bye,"

Dan heard a squeal right before he hung up the phone, and imagined Serena swooping down a tickling their daughter, the two of them trying to make waffles, getting all messy and ordering room service. He sighed.

Sometimes Dan regretted getting divorced. He'd known Serena since high school, she'd been his love, his muse, his everything.

Now she was just Serena, who lived across the bridge and had the better half of the custody agreement.

They'd gotten married fast, Dan remembered. In Vegas. He smirked at the memory of Serena pulling Blair onto Chuck's private plane to be a witness against cries of, "I'm not condoning this!", "He's going to kill you when he finds out you took the plane!" and "Your name is going to be synonymous to Britney's!".

Three and a half years, and two books later they got divorced.

The first book had been published about a month after their wedding. Across the Bridge was the story about a young man named David Henderson, who fell in love with Sabine Valentine, a beautiful, radiant women who came from a world of excess and indulgence that was completely foreign to the man. Dan supposed that maybe he'd been influence by his own life a bit.

Across the Bridge had been a huge success, winding up on the New York Times Bestseller List. Dan's name became notable and within the first five months of their marriage, Serena had announced she was pregnant.

Looking back, Dan saw that those three years were probably some of the best of his life. He'd been successful, in love, and had a baby. It was like he'd hit the trifecta. He'd been so happy, he hadn't even cared about living on the UES.

He and Serena had debated over names for months. Dan wanted to name her something simple and classic, like Jennifer, only not Jennifer because Dan would not curse his child with being named after his sister. Serena had wanted an exotic name, 'something wild', she'd said.

In the end, Dan had liked Amy. It meant loved which is what he wanted for his daughter. Serena changed it up a bit, made it French, and they'd ended up with Aimée Erika Humphrey.

After she was born, Both Serena and Dan had been in a state of delirious sleep deprived happiness. Dan wrote another book, about a small child who posses the power to bring happiness to all those around her. It never got as popular as his first book, the mystical tone lost some people, but it did well. The three of them were getting along fine, until a couple months after Aimée's second birthday.

Serena had to go away for a week, she'd told Dan, he remembered darkly. Dan stalked back to his desk a flunked down in the chair as he recalled the conversation that took place in the kitchen when it all had happened. He hadn't wanted her to go, but her father was in Italy and wanted to see her. Dan tried to understand, said it was fine for her to go away for a week, that he'd stay in New York with Aimée.

She left in August, and didn't come back until the second week of October.

The months were infused with letters, and texts that came from odd numbers Dan didn't recognize because apparently, Serena accidentally dropped her phone in the water in Venice. She said she was sorry she was taking longer than she'd expected in the letters, give Aimée her love and that's she'd be home in the next week. The texts said things like 'im ok dnt wrry. lv u!'. and gradually shortened to 'im k. srry'.

On October 3rd, the newest issue of a tabloid Serena subscribed to was delivered. Dan flipped through it while Aimée slept, bored and angry, and saw Serena for the first time in months.

She was there, on the glossy pages, her hair mussed, and large smile adorning her face. She wasn't even in Italy. According to the article, she was in France, Nice to be exact. At a party.

Dan had stared at that picture for what seemed like hours, before pulling out his laptop and googling divorce lawyers.

Serena had come back shortly after that, full of apologies, but Dan wouldn't have any of it. He couldn't be with someone who could abandon their child and their life like that.

He started his third while he and Serena were in a custody battle. It was called The Sun. The Sun had been hailed by critics as Dan's best work, deeply emotional, an excellent use of literary devices. It was about the sun going dark- an eclipse- and the events that took place in that darkness.

The world had seen the novel as a metaphor for depression.

The first novel had taken years to write, to perfect. Dan had wanted every word to convey his endless love for Serena. The second book had been written every time Dan had a chance to sit down, in a fluster of late nights and too early mornings and baby's coos and cries. The third...Dan had thrown every ounce of himself into The Sun. He'd worked night and day and never let himself come up for air. Dan was sort of scared what would happen when he did.

The Sun wasn't published until three years after his divorce. He'd written and written and written, and edited and proof read and put every bit of love for Serena he'd had into the book. Now it sat neatly in his bookcase, probably collecting dust, since Dan hadn't read it after it'd been released. The copy he owned was a pure novelty.

Serena had been married once since him. To a photographer for about a year. Then he'd cheated on her with one of his models, who he had declared was his new muse.

"But it's okay though," five year old Aimée had told Dan while chewing on toast. "He was really stupid,". Dan had grinned, tousled her bed head hair, and taken her out for doughnuts.

Dan shook himself out of his memories. It had been a long time since his mind had revisited what had happened with Serena. He looked down, to find his hand grasping a pencil, and the blank page sitting in front of him.

Suddenly, the words came. They appeared as if they'd always been there.

And Dan Humphrey began to write again.