Disclaimer:
I do not own the French language, nor do I own the fabulous storyline that the CW/Cecily von Ziegesar invented for Serena van der Woodsen and the rest of the Gossip Girl cast. And the hell do I know if a guy named Blake Beeston even exists or if he is the owner of the country's leading toilet paper company. HAPPY READING!
N'existe Pas
A small breeze rustled across the countryside, ruffling a flower's petals as it stood beside the railroad. The countryside was peaceful, the only sound being the fluttering wings of a lone butterfly. The grass was green, the sky was blue and the air smelled more like Nature Fresh Mountain Breeze Air Freshener than the usual dead-rat smell of polluted air. The scene was almost too perfect, the quaint cottages, the brick walls, the green meadow and the little woodland creatures. It looked like something right out of a Grass Globe (The newest kind of snow globe, for all those nature enthusiasts.)Look, a bird just pecked the flower! Awwww.. How cute it's--
VROOMMMM!
A bullet train sped through the peaceful countryside, blowing away the flower, the hanging laundry and the poor innocent bird. Technology was about to come in sometime. The bullet train was one of the newest and fastest ones around. It was also exclusive. Most trains have airplane-y classes, 1st, economy, business… This one just had first class. This particular train was headed off to Hanover, New Hampshire. This particular train was also branded with the initials H.A. – Hanover Academy. As we type, the train was filled with over-privileged spoiled rich kids and their 10-yrs.-blue-collar job- Salary luggage. They were probably sulking around, smoking it up, some wondering what they had ever done to deserve this torture( puh-lease its not like your starving), while some just wondering, too stoned and drunk to think straight. Basically, all the students in the train were passed out drunk or stoned. All except one at least. Well, she wouldn't be for long.
Serena van der Woodsen sat in a lone compartment at the edge of the train, filling up her complimentary champagne bottles with straight vodka she had bought in the station. She pressed her forehead to the cold glass, her breath fogging up the glass and her hair spread across the suede curtains. She was wearing a short nightshirt that stopped above her knees and an old tattered trench coat. She had gotten on the train at 3:00 in the morning, not bothering to shower or to go home. She had needed to escape. He eyes lost focus as she thought back…
Oh my God, Oh my God. What have I done? Serena thought as she walked as fast as she could away from the hotel. I killed Pete. I killed him. If I didn't give him that line….. She sobbed and choked back tears. She walked faster until she was almost running, kicking off her stilettos as she did. She didn't care that her 500 dollar shoes were lost, she didn't care that she was wearing nothing but an old night shirt. All she could think about was what she had done… She turned down an old alleyway, just 5 blocks from her penthouse. She ran faster, longing to sob into her pillows and… Suddenly, a shadow stepped out. It was Blair. She was wearing a big fedora, and the black veil usually reserved for funerals.
"Hello Serena." She smiled, it gave Serena chills. "I didn't see you at the wedding tonight. I looked for you all around you see." Blair took a step forward and she took off the veil. Her amber eyes glittered dangerously. "I saw Nate though. I saw him lying in your dress. And I heard him say he loved you." She stepped forward and slapped Serena, until she was sitting on her barely-clothed ass. "How could you do this to me? We're best friends Serena, how could you? How could you?" Serena kept hearing those words, echoing in her brain, until Blair's coquettish voice became deep, and her petite friend morphed into a familiar form. It was Pete." How could you… You killed me, Serena. You know you did. You killed me…." Serena backed away and stared in horror. She opened her mouth to scream, as Pete the zombie began shaking her….
"Are you Okay?!"
Her eyes flew open. It was just a dream. She told herself. But she couldn't shake off the foreboding feeling of that becoming a reality. She focused on her surroundings and her eyes met with a forest green. She then noticed that 2 strong hands were still on her shoulders and her hearing now registered the velvety voice of the man in front of her. He had a head of curly hair, swimmer's built and electric blue eyes. He looked her age. She stared at him. Navy Blue met Forest Green and cute guy sat back down in relief. "Sorry I barged in. I could hear your screams when I passed by." I just wanted to make sure." He flashed a smile at her. A sign, she noted. This guy was way into her. His hand was on her thigh. Another sign. She inched away from him and his smile faltered. "I'm sorry bout that. My name's Blake by the way. Blake Beeston." She recognized the name. The guy owned the country's leading toilet paper company. Yawn. She ignored the guy. But despite her coldness, he still stayed and looked at her with a hopeful glint in his eyes, and a coy half-smile that indicated he was just another asshole. Serena picked up her half-downed champagne flute and stared at it. Strangely, she no longer felt the need to chug it down. She felt like no reality could be worse than the dream she had just experienced and she felt hope. She laughed at the bubbly warm feeling she just got, amazingly without the help of wine. She felt like she was just an ordinary girl, who didn't sleep with her best friend's boyfriend, a girl who didn't kill someone. She felt like the Serena everyone knew, had be washed away by the bad dreams. And the real Serena was finally here.
She pressed the tiny button on her chair and the window flipped open. She stuck her head out and her hair whipped around her face. She lifted the champagne bottle out of its case and held it out. She poured it down, watching the expensive alcohol pour down on the muddy dirt. She watched as its expensive fermented liquid splash down on the little flower, watched as it gave a little bird a bath. She poured down her alcohol, and with it went Constance Billard, her family, her friends, Blair, Pete and the old Serena. She waited until the last drop was gone and went back inside the compartment. She put the bottle on the table, ignoring the strange stare Blake was giving her. She took out her Tiffany pen and scribbled down on a post-it note she found in the drawer. She stuck it on Blake Beeston's forehead and exited the compartment, feet planted on the ground, butt swinging, hair flipping and head held high. Blake took off the post-it note. He smiled. What a girl. He thought as he pocketed the note. He took out his phone and snapped a photo of Serena's butt as she exited. He labeled it Serena.
The note said:
Serena n'existe pas
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a brand new series I have made about Serena and her boarding school adventures. I'm not sure if anyone else has thought of this, but I still hope my idea isn't as copy/paste times 10. This will be a series, with OCs, cliffhangers and next chapters. BTW, my other fic, A Saturday Afternoon is currently on HIATUS. I'm sick with a little somEthing called Writer's Block. I'll update as soon as my brain clears up. XOXO
