Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip girl, just the specific world I chose to bring the characters into!
Happy Reading.
But she's always avoiding falling in love
Yes, it's due to a life of a private affair
She's always avoiding falling in love
Yes, it's due to a life of a private affair
Curtains clap and thrown open window
Eyes are watching
Neon lights, the cracks in the pavement
lure me away
- Private Affair
Chapter One:
Dan sat staring at his laptop, his fingers lingering over the keys, willing words to formulate on his tongue and transfer themselves onto the screen in front of him. He had been sitting in the same place for longer than he could remember, having lost track of all time and possibly all sanity around the fifteen hour mark.
Tilting his head back he swung his legs from their perch on the arm of a well worn chair and stretched towards the cheap heater situated under his desk. Allowing himself to take notice of his surroundings for the first time in days. Although he wanted to stay in his comfortable box of angst for as long as possible, unfortunately it was only avaliable for so long and he had already wasted a respectable amount of time being in it.
A pile of neglected laundry if Mount Everest could be considered just a pile, occupied one corner of his loft. He cringed at the fact that he hadn't had any clean clothes in at least two days and he was going to have to find time to tackle that endeavour. Turning to face the kitchen his eyes met with heaps of dirty chipped mugs and plates glaring back at him, covered in sticky takeout and the occasional burnt meal. Sighing as he swivelled back-round to his computer screen, pulling himself up. None of the things he wanted to wait would wait.
Time would not slow itself down just because he couldn't formulate a sentence to save his own life at this point. And unless he wanted to completely fall under the Brooklyn prototype there was cleaning to be done as if his life depended on it.
Starting at the dishes he scrubbed and scoured for over an hour, resolving to never use plates again for anything other than looking like he might have used them at some point or another. Placing plates in cupboards they'd never been in before and hanging the mugs on wooden pegs, he felt satisfied that he could at least make the tiniest of impact somewhere at least.
Intently gathering the laundry into a plastic tub Dan reached to grab the garbage which happened to be littered to the brim with plastic utensils and other things of the sort. Dropping a worn Keats on top of the laundry he trudged out of the loft, twisting the lock into place just as his makeshift pile fell to the ground in a dramatic spill.
"Fuck ugh," His gaze remained on the floor, kneeling down to begin cleaning it up. He felt angry and disoriented suddenly at having so much garbage to throw away and laundry to do and now a large mess in the hallway because of the two.
He noticed rather offhand a stack of mail, how odd, they usually left it in his box or slid it under his door or something. But it was right there, beckoning him to accept that he was probably going to have his hot water and electricity shut off in a matter of hours. Shuffling through it he noticed one envelope that felt expensive under his forefinger. Pulling it from the stack he tore the seam open and pulled out an elegant paper. Dropping the last bit of laundry into the basket he skimmed the top of the letter quickly.
St Jude's School for Boys
And
Constance Billiard Academy wish to invite:
Mr. Daniel Humphrey
Of the 2009 graduating class
To the Palace Ballroom
February 21st, 2019
A celebration of your time
in our charge in the form
Of a reunion.
RSVP immediately
Your presence is mandatory;
if you have pride in your alma matter.
He rose slowly, clutching the paper; attempting to crush it as if he had never received, opened or glanced at it. 10 years ... had it really been that long? Of course it had. Aging happens when you least expect it and even if you don't feel your age chances are your still going to be even if it's the last thing on your mind.
High school felt like yesterday in so many aspects, he'd counted on old memories to get him though his journalism career for several years. Prolonging the emotions in his mind, re-living each event in every word he had written. Now, just as he had reached a fifty mile high writers block, his past was conveniently slipping back into his life; tucking itself between the old and the new. Figures.
Fishing his cell phone from the jean jacket covering his shoulders he looked to the keyboard and pressed speed dial, holding the phone to his ear.
"Hello?" Jenny answered, slight annoyance in the tone of her voice. Damn. Hopefully he hadn't caught her at a bad time.
"Hey Jen, its Dan."
"Dan!" She squeaked after a few seconds of silence passed, "We missed you at family dinner last week, is everything okay?"
"Uh well I was wondering if Nate's around actually" He ignored her question, lowering his head to pick at a piece of dried food on the corner of his shirt.
"Yeah he is, one second" She answered curiously, "but everything's okay right?"
His laugh was meek. With only two years seperating him and his younger sister she had somehow managed to become more adult than he could ever wish to be.
"Jen I'm fine, really. Just got a little caught up that's all."
"Okay" She sounded unconvinced but passed the phone over to Nate nonetheless.
"Hey man, what's up?" Nate asked, un-naturally perky, well naturally enough for him anyway.
"Guess what I just got" Dan grumbled in response, skipping the niceties and cutting straight to the chase.
"The reunion invitation" Nate's tone dropped to glum, "I know. Sucks right?"
Dan opened his mouth to say something just as a bout of hysterical cries erupted from the opposite end and he shut it quickly. Listening intently as Nate quietly whispered something to Jenny, turning his attention back to the conversation a few minutes later as the crying slowly became more faint, finally silencing altogether.
"Sorry about that, Tallia just woke up" Nate explained apologetically.
"No, it's okay. How's my niece anyway?" Dan urged, he'd bring up the Constance Billiard subject a bit later. He hadn't talked to anyone except for his cabbage patch doll in few days and was somewhat surprised at how detached he'd managed to make himself in a few short weeks.
"Oh, she's great--"
Picking up his newly organized pile and hefty bag of garbage, Dan began down the stairwell.
"You sound unsure."
"No, I mean she's great. We're just tired. It's hard, and not, I mean," Nate was fumbling over his words, searching for the right way to explain what he was trying to say. "I mean I'm like, a dad you know? It still hasn't quite hit me yet." Dan smirked, pushing open the door with his elbow and turning onto the street and down the alley, depositing the garbage into a bin before turning back onto the sidewalk and stepping into the downstairs laundry mat.
His niece was only a month old and yet Jenny had taken to being a mother so quickly it seemed freakish. Whereas Nate in all his profound glory had taken a while to get to and baby makes three. The struggle to adjust to such a large shift was evident and sometimes Dan worried helplessly for Jenny's sake only to remind himself that he was simply being ridiculous. Nate loved her and as unlikely of a match that they made, they had managed to mesh quite well for almost five years.
"You'll get the hang of it" Dan assured him as he started sifting through his clothes, throwing things haphazardly into open washing machines.
"Say's the fatherless journalist" Nate mocked, laughing.
"Hey if there's one thing I know, it's babies" Dan retorted, hearing a light muffling as the banter was interrupted once more most likely because of Jenny or Tallia-perhaps both.
Taking advantage of the few minutes he had away from the conversation, Dan placed his cell on the top of the washer. Filling each machine containing his clothing with laundry soap before picking it up again.
"So, Nate" He stated, "Are you going to go?"
"Go where?"
"The reunion"
"Oh right. I have to, your presence is mandatory if you have pride in your Alma matter" Nate repeated the last line of the invitation verbatim, jokingly.
Yeah the invitation was quite a laugh riot. Dan couldn't blame him but also couldn't believe that he'd actually consider going.
"Why, aren't you?"
Being somewhat preoccupied with digging loose change out of his wallet he managed to answer between concentrated searches. "I wasn't really planning on it actually."
"Dude, I can't just go alone" Nate whined, "You have to come."
"You won't be alone, Jenny'll be there."
"It won't be the same," he said, "What are you afraid of Humphrey?"
How did the conversation even turn to why he didn't want to go, couldn't it be simple enough that he just didn't feel like it and that would be that?
"I'm not afraid Archibald," He counted emphatically. "I'm just not so sure that I wanna be" There was a pregnant pause as he added the last quarter to the final machine, "revisiting high school."
Blair Waldorf shifted slightly against the cushions on her bed as she flipped through French Vogue, glaring every few minutes at the phone on her bedside table and sighing. Since when did calling people back become so passé that the practice was hardly ever considered anymore? Traded up for a quick text or email in favour of direct, convenient communication. Screw convenient, if Blair Waldorf makes an effort to call you and you make the choice not to be around you do not ignore calling her back .. it just isn't done.
After a few more minutes of almost agonizing silence she realized she had exhausted the pages in her hand and pulled herself up from the bed, making her way over to the door. Passing by several maids as they completed various household duties and tasks she turned her chin up, ignoring each of them.
Reaching the kitchen she started blankly at the contents of her near empty fridge. What was she paying anyone for if not to make sure the basics were taken care of in the least? Twisting towards the scarcely filled cupboards she settled on a box of raisins pouring them into her hand. In fact, the triple digit paychecks she signed each week indicated that everything and anything she could desire should fill her fridge and cupboards with goodies, desserts and foreign expensive treats. Mental note: Fire everyone, hire brand new staff.
Leaning op against the granite counter-top she picked slowly at the snack in her palm. Upon noticing a small tower of mail she picked the thick pile up, just bored enough to actually be indulging in something so menial. Flicking through several expected social invitations, a few bills, a postcard from Eleanor and Cyrus and ... one from Constance Billiard? Suddenly her attention was caught, pulling the letter out from it's envelope a disbelieving sigh escaped her lips as she read.
One 10 year reunion she was expected to attend... ugh. The way the words were formulated on the page gave Blair a sense of being older than she was. Granted 28 wasn't exactly 18 but it definitely didn't mean she was an old woman with peppered hair who shouted incoherent orders at the people around her while waving a cane all about. She didn't know how to recieve this information. Whether she was meant to be excited at the passing of time and the chance to catch up, or dread being practically the only person there without offspring and a husband to showcase. Just an irritating boyfriend who was too caught up in staring at himself in a gilded mirror to pick up the phone, one superficial asshole who greatly deserved to be beaten or flogged, or hung by his manicured toenails.
Whatever she was feeling it definitely agreed with the fact that they should really watch how old they made you feel on these letters/invitations, whatever you would call them. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining the fluffy idea of not attending the lavish event. One social event minus the social butterfly, couldn't be that gossip worthy could it?
Constance Billiard had indeed been the start of everything for her. She'd gone to Yale, dropping out of contact with Serena, graduating summa cum laude. Without the experience of the ivy leagues there would be no Blair Cornelia Waldorf, she would cease to exist among New York, a passing breeze. Constance Billiard had been the beginning of everything about her, therefore, with this reasoning, she knew it was childish and ungrateful to contemplate skipping out on the event as if her high school years had meant very little.
You couldn't resist the inevitable; just avoid it long enough for it to know you were attempting to resist.
If it had to be done she would do it however sceptical she was. After all, she did have two weeks to get better acquainted with the idea.
Author's Note: Hey there, thanks for clicking on my story! This is my first fanfiction and I'm not sure that I'll continue unless you want me too. I don't have a beta so all the mistakes are my own. Have a great weekend (: