Summary: "Yes, that was probably it. She had left the side of her prince to go to the book launch of a reluctant friend because she pitied him. (But possibly also because she missed him.)"
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
A/N: So I've been having a bit of writer's block/life has been getting in the way of me continuing Going off the Grid. I was about halfway through the next chapter for that story when this hit me and I felt like I had to get it out of my system. Basically this is set right before Blair is about to leave New York for Monaco to marry her Prince (ugh) so there will be spoilers for all of season 4. I hope you enjoy! Xx ibh
Dan sipped on his champagne as he surveyed the mingling guests mindless of the waiters masterfully weaving around them offering hor d'oeuvres and topping up glasses. He quietly rejoiced in the brief moment to himself as he listened to the indistinct hum of conversation and clinking of glasses whilst the jazz band played softly in the background. He had been introduced to countless critics and had used every bit of the charm he had learned from his past few years in the Upper East Side in order to impress them because, according to his Editor, tonight could 'make or break' his career. To be honest, he couldn't have cared less, which was probably why he was in fact making a great impression on all the guests; no nervous rambles were escaping his lips tonight. Automatically he once again brought the champagne glass to his lips and took another sip; it tasted slightly bitter and he chuckled as the writer in him immediately seized upon the simile: it was as bitter as he felt. This book, his Editor had promised, would be a huge success; "a dream come true!" and it was really, except that it was slowly turning into a nightmare. What should have been a wonderful night celebrating the launch of his debut novel was in fact the final metaphorical nail in the metaphorical coffin. Tomorrow thousands ("possibly millions!") of people would be reading his book, it felt like he would be more exposed than if he were to stand naked in front of them all. But what was worse was that not only would he be exposing himself but also his family and friends – his family and friends who had already rejected him after reading just the first chapter. He should've put a stop to it all when he had had the chance.
One month earlier…
The day Dan discovered that Vanessa had stolen his manuscript would be forever etched in his memory. It had started out boring enough, he had woken up alone in the loft slightly hung-over and smelling like he hadn't showered in a few days (which, truth be told he probably hadn't). Scratching at the slight beard that was beginning to grow, he crawled out of bed and ambled over to the bathroom. Stripping himself of his clothes he turned on the shower and, not before testing the temperature with his fingers first, he stepped in and relished in the heat. Reaching for the bar of soap he mentally kicked himself as he once again realized that it was in need of replacing. Sighing to himself he made do with the tired looking sliver of soap and tried to scrub himself clean of what had been a week's worth of moping and all-round pathetic-ness. He had been informed a week ago that Blair Waldorf would be returning to New York with her future husband in tow in order to spend some time with her pregnant mother before she returned to Monaco to have the "royal-wedding of the century" (her words, not his). The thought made him more depressed and simultaneously more excited as the days drew closer and closer to her return. As he bent down to scrub his legs clean he contemplated the fact that Blair would be back in New York tomorrow and he smiled slightly before he inevitably did the math and reminded himself that this meant Blair would be getting married in just over a month. Now he felt nauseous, but then that could have been his body's punishment for the amount of beer he had consumed last night trying to forget this fact.
After washing his hair he stepped out of the shower and commenced shaving, finally feeling decidedly more refreshed and properly groomed he made his way back to his room to get dressed. Today would be a new day, he told himself, because today he was going to finally get over this stupid thing he had for Blair Waldorf. With more hesitancy than he would have liked to admit, he purposefully put on a plaid shirt; Blair Waldorf would not be having any influence on his wardrobe today, nor ever again. If he was ever going to be over her then tomorrow was the deadline, he was going to make good on the promise he had drunkenly made himself last night because he would be seeing her tomorrow and if he felt even one irritating butterfly then surely he would explode with frustration. Life had been playing some cruel joke on him for the past couple of months and he would be damned if he would let it continue. With firm resolve, Dan pocketed his wallet and phone and marched out of the loft. When he checked his mailbox on the way out of the building he saw it as a good sign that on the day he had decided to get over Blair Waldorf he received his copy of The New Yorker marking the beginning of a new week; a fresh start.
A coffee in one hand, a hot dog with the lot in the other (his hangover was still in full force) and The New Yorker tucked safely under his arm, Dan wandered through Central Park. Glad that he had decided to take advantage of what was turning out to be a beautiful day, he found himself a spot on the grass looking out over The Pond and proceeded to devour his hot dog (another thing that Blair Waldorf would hate, he thought smugly). Once he had finished, he brushed the crumbs off his lap and lay out on his stomach, sipping his coffee whilst he lazily flicked through the magazine. He had just swallowed the last few drops of his coffee when he saw it. There typed neatly across the page in front of him was Inside by Anonymous. His stomach dropped as his eyes scanned the all-to-familiar words of the first chapter of his manuscript. Leaping to his feet, Dan sprinted to the closest trashcan and threw up. A passer-by stopped to check if he was alright but Dan remained oblivious to him, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, his heart was hammering in his chest as he strode over to the discarded magazine and reread the excerpt. At the bottom of the final page of the excerpt he found in fine print the name of the publishing agency, Grand Central Publishing. Using his phone to find the address he all but ran to the nearest subway and headed to Park Ave.
He doesn't much remember how long it took him before he convinced the receptionist at the publishing agency that he was in fact the anonymous writer of Inside, nor does he remember how long he had to wait in order to see Jonathon Karp, the man publishing his novel, what he does remember though was the sheer panic. Jonathon was a nice enough man and immediately gave Dan the new contact details of Vanessa. When Dan demanded that Jonathon abort the publishing of his novel, Jonathon begged that he rethink this 'rash' decision. Dan would have felt sorry for the Editor, whose eyes clearly showed worry of an imminent lawsuit, if it weren't for the fact that he was completely distracted by the rage coursing through his veins. Vanessa had truly gone too far this time. Promising Jonathon that he would think it over and get back to him in the next few days, if only to appease the Editor whilst he dealt with Vanessa, Dan headed home to Brooklyn.
His call to Vanessa was heated to say the least and he hung up on her when she said that she would send him the cheques – typically, she was once again completely missing the principle of it all. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, ignoring the fact that it was not yet 2pm, Dan ran through a mental list of who he knew would have a subscription to The New Yorker. Lily and Rufus? Yes. Serena? No. Nate? A definite no. Chuck? Maybe. Jenny? No. His mum? No. Eric? Well, he would probably read Lily and Rufus' copy. Blair? No, but he knew that as soon as she landed she would most likely grab a copy for the drive home. Dan wasn't one to swear often but he couldn't help the train of expletives that escaped his mouth as he paced through the kitchen, one hand running through his hair whilst the other nursed his beer. There was no way that anyone on that list who read the excerpt would not be able to put two and two together, he had not been exactly subtle in the naming of his characters – he liked to think that had he decided to have it published he would have made an effort to go back and be more creative with the names. No such luck here. He shuddered to think of everyone's reactions; his first chapter had not been kind to any of his characters, it was full of the shallow observations and judgements of a lonely outsider who somewhat hated himself for wanting in. He decided that his next move would be to do some damage control.
First, he headed to The Palace. Lily wasn't home but Rufus and Eric were happy to see him. Dan tried to act as though his world wasn't about to come crashing down as he chatted casually with them, his eyes scanning the kitchen and living room for the magazine. Finally, he caught sight of it sitting, unopened on Lily's desk. Trying to appear as normal as possible, Dan quickly walked over and snatched it up, "Do you mind if I borrow this, dad?" he asked, "I think there's something wrong with my subscription; I haven't received one in a few weeks actually." Neither Rufus nor Eric were suspicious of Dan's spontaneous lie and fifteen minutes later when he left The Palace, Dan hastily threw the offending magazine in a trashcan a few blocks away (just in case for some reason a member of the family happened to have a peak in the trashcan outside The Palace – which, would not be all that surprising in the Upper East Side.)
Next, he headed to The Empire on the pretence of seeing Nate. Luckily Chuck wasn't home so Dan didn't have to worry about fooling the guy who was quite frankly always suspicious of Dan, life-destroying novel or not. Plus there was the added benefit that Nate had decided to spend the day playing Black Ops and smoking weed, which meant that when Dan not-so-subtly enquired about Chuck's magazine collection, Nate's interest was not piqued. In fact, he merely laughed and told Dan if he wanted some good porn he could direct him toward some great websites ("Seriously man, it's what the internet was made for, who even looks at magazines anymore?"). Somewhat disturbed but mostly relieved Dan made his way back to Brooklyn and his biggest problem: how to prevent Blair Waldorf from reading The New Yorker.
Sitting down on one of the barstools in the kitchen of the loft, Dan nervously played with his phone. He knew what had to be done but seriously doubted his ability to do it. Sighing with great gusto (he was allowed to be dramatic today), he scrolled through his contact list and hit the call button.
"Humphrey," came the cool voice of Blair Waldorf, "couldn't wait until tomorrow?"
Dan chuckled softly as he pictured the smirk gracing her lips, "And miss one of our weekly movie sessions? Never!" he cried, "In a month or so you'll be a princess; too good to watch movies with a mere pauper like me."
"I'm already too good for you, Humphrey!" Blair quipped lightly, "I just figured since we had come to the end of our Netflix cue, that perhaps last week was our final movie night while I'm in Monaco."
"While you're in Monaco," Dan repeated softly, "so does that mean we'll be having movie nights once you get back to New York?" He cringed at the all-to-apparent hopefulness in his words.
"Maybe," Blair replied lightly, "but what is it you wanted to watch tonight?"
"Actually," Dan answered slowly, trying to appear as casual as possible, "I was thinking that maybe we could both read a book. And you know, talk about it when you get back, maybe over some perogies?"
"Ugh, Cabbage Patch, you have not changed a bit since I last saw you! Perogies, really?" Blair cried out.
"Well it doesn't sound like you've changed all that much either, Waldorf." Dan retorted, not that this bothered him in the least, "Ok, maybe the Ukrainian food was pushing it a bit, coffee then?"
He could almost see her rolling her eyes, "Coffee sounds much more civilized," Blair replied, "what book then?"
Dan couldn't believe that he had successfully schemed his way out of trouble. Lily, Rufus and Eric would not miss their copy of The New Yorker, Chuck only had subscriptions to porn magazines and Blair would be spending the entirety of her trip back to New York reading Jonathon Tropper's This is Where I Leave You. He would have celebrated his brilliance but he knew it wasn't yet time to rejoice; he had spoken to Blair Waldorf on the phone today and the butterflies felt more persistent than ever. So he wasn't over her yet. But then really, if he had to set a proper deadline on the date in which to be over her by, surely it would be more appropriate to set it as the day she leaves New York! So there was still plenty of time…
Back to the Present
Dan smirked bitterly to himself as he downed the rest of his glass and headed over to the bar for a refill. The memory of that day, although clear was really just the calm before the storm. It was in fact the next day that everything came crashing down around him; thinking about it now he can't help but laugh at how foolish (or was it optimistic?) he had been to believe that the problem had been so easily solved. Although he may have been able to prevent his immediate friends and family from reading it, he couldn't very well prevent the rest of New York. He shouldn't have been surprised when Georgina gatecrashed Blair's welcome-home party; she had been hanging around the Upper East Side like a bad smell for the past couple of months constantly searching for the next scandal or scheme to come her way. So when she sauntered into the Waldorf's foyer looking smug as all hell, Dan really should have been more prepared for what she was about to do. Blair, Chuck, Serena and Nate immediately stormed over to her blocking her from entering any further into the apartment. Dan, who had been slower on the uptake, warily strode over to the group just as Blair had demanded that she leave.
"But I'm not here to ruin your party, B" Georgina had simpered innocently, "I only came to give Dan my congratulations!"
Dan remembered clearly the feeling of the blood draining from his face as the group all turned to stare at him curiously. "Georgina," he had quietly begged, "maybe we could talk outside?"
"Ew!" cried Blair, "Don't tell me you've actually knocked her up this time?" Dan had been lost for words but Georgina apparently wasn't.
"No, silly!" she laughed with a cruel glint in her eyes, "Congratulations on his book! Dan is getting published!"
"Georgina," Dan once again tried, but then seeing no compassion in the girl before him decided to go a different route, "I don't know what you're talking about." Thinking about it now Dan shook his head; it had really been quite a pathetic and desperate attempt. If anything, it only demonstrated to Georgina what she had suspected all along: he really didn't want anyone to find out.
"Inside!" She all but shouted, "I saw the excerpt in The New Yorker this morning. You must be so proud!"
Once again Dan made an ill-fated attempt at denial but he was quickly interrupted by the poisonous brunette standing before him, "Oh, come on Dan!" she laughed gleefully, "Sabrina Van Watson? Belle Walters? Ian Hunter? I mean, no offence, but you really didn't put much originality into the character names. It was blatantly obvious who wrote it."
Everything after that was a blur of shock, confusion and then eventually, once everyone had read it, anger. Nate shut him out; his character's depiction as a pot-smoking, over-privileged, under-achieving, and all-around shallow lacrosse-player had too many hyphens in it to be forgivable. Serena had shouted at him, accused him of using her in order to gain access to their world and refused to ever speak to him again. Chuck had quietly ambushed him at the loft and threatened to destroy him should he ever set foot in the Upper East Side again. Eric had been disappointed and angry that Dan had so blatantly hurt his family and friends and so he too had shut him out. Blair, however, hadn't bothered to confront him at all; rather she completely ignored the situation and instead turned all of her energy into planning her wedding (for some reason her lack of reaction seemed to hurt Dan the most; she clearly didn't care about what he thought of her even if the first chapter didn't exactly tell the whole story). It was his father's reaction though that led him to call up Jonathon and give him the go ahead.
Rufus had looked at Dan with such disappointment that even the memory of it makes him wince, "Who are you?" his father had asked him softly, the words were like daggers to the heart. Dan had no response for his father, and so had simply turned and walked out of The Palace and headed back to the loft, cashed the cheques he had finally received from Vanessa and started looking for a new place (one month later and he had finally found a place in Brooklyn; he would be spending the rest of the weekend packing up his things in the loft). At first he had been upset by everyone's reactions but Rufus' had only served to make him angry. So there it was, he was getting his novel published out of spite. Pathetic. Of course when he had calmed down a couple of weeks later he was also able to convince himself that publishing Inside would be for the best, if only to literally give his friends and family the full-story should they ever decide to take the time to read it. When he contemplated it all further he was even able to convince himself that Vanessa's words from the night of the Alumni party had subconsciously struck a chord, "be a great man instead of always being a good boy!"
Dan once again glanced around at the party that was now starting to pick up in volume as guests drank more and more. A great man, indeed. Here he was at his own book launch party drinking alone at the bar; once again an outsider looking in, except now he had no desire whatsoever to change his situation.
"Self-pity doesn't look good on you Humphrey."
Dan spun around in shock to find Blair Waldorf dressed in a beautiful, blood red gown standing directly behind him. "Blair!" he exclaimed, wondering if he was hallucinating, "what are you doing here?'
The petite brunette merely rolled her eyes, "Well, you invited me didn't you? Really, Humphrey, I know you come from Brooklyn but even you must know that it's common courtesy to remember who you invited to your own book launch!"
"Right, well I just… I didn't… didn't – "
"Didn't think I would show up?" she interrupted knowingly, "Well I'll admit it definitely was a spur of the moment decision to come here but it just didn't seem…" and here she trailed off as if searching for the appropriate word.
"Didn't seem…?" Dan pressed.
"Right." She answered with some resolve, "It didn't seem right."
This only seemed to further confuse him so rolling her eyes and sighing with exasperation in true Waldorf style, she merely grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the band, "Dance with me," she demanded.
"Huh?" asked Dan, too confused for words.
Blair, finally reaching her destination of what she decided would be the makeshift dance floor located just in front of the band, turned and looked up at him with a smirk firmly in place, "You know for a writer, you're not particularly proficient with words, Cabbage Patch." Quietly tutting at him, she grabbed his right hand and placed it on her waist whilst she placed her own on his shoulder and put her other hand in his. "We're dancing because it gets you away from the bar and back amongst your guests."
"And why would I want to do that?" Asked Dan grumpily, not that he was about to voluntarily let go of her anytime soon.
"Aren't you supposed to be impressing these people tonight? You know, creating a good report with the critics and such?" she asked condescendingly.
"You sound like Jonathon," Dan moaned in response, "I've been talking to them all night, Waldorf, I'm done trying to impress countless strangers; let them read the book and decide for themselves what they think!" Blair just glared at him and not wanting to push his luck with what he still thought could be an incredibly vivid dream he finally decided just to consent, "Oh, fine then," he muttered, "I'll dance." Blair's soft 'humph' of victory did not go unnoticed by him.
Five minutes passed without a word until Blair, apparently unable to contain it any longer, blurted out, "You know, you truly are a terrible dancer, Humphrey."
Dan threw his head back and laughed loudly for what was the first time in weeks. "God, I've missed you, Waldorf!" he exclaimed with mirth as he looked down at her.
She smiled back at him sadly, "I probably shouldn't be here," she whispered softly to him, "but it just didn't seem…"
"Right?" he supplied, his expression sobering. "What do you mean, 'right'?"
Blair sighed and looked up at him earnestly, "Even before we started seeing movies together," (and here Dan smiled at her description of their unlikely friendship) "I knew that this was it. Getting your own novel published was your dream. Out of all of us, you've known what you wanted to do with your life the longest. Some people never figure out what they want to do, what their passion is and you've known since, well since before I even knew you. Even before I liked you, I respected you for it and now I'm your friend and it just doesn't seem right for you to be experiencing one of the biggest nights of your life and have no family or friends to celebrate it with."
Dan stared down at her in awe and gulped as the regret of all that had happened caught up with him, he tried to think of the words to express everything he was feeling but was at a loss so settled for a simple "Thank you, Blair."
Blair once again smiled sadly at him, "This doesn't mean I approve of the way you went about achieving your dreams, Humphrey, although I'll be the first to appreciate a good scheme and convincing Serena to date you in order to climb the social ladder was clearly effective but – "
"It wasn't all some epic scheme, Blair." Dan interrupted slightly annoyed. Rolling his eyes because he now knew what he had to do, he took his hand off her waist and stepped away from her, however, he still held steadfast onto her left hand, "Come with me." Dragging her through the crowd he pulled her over to a table covered in 'goodie bags' for the guests, which all included a copy of Inside and handed one to her. "Read it," he commanded, "You may never talk to me again but at least you'll know."
"Will you sign it for me?" she asked nervously, realizing the significance of the moment; Dan Humphrey was saying goodbye.
"Sure," he replied and finding a pen lying on the desk quickly scrawled his signature on the inside cover.
"What? No personal message, Humphrey? Even for a future princess?" She asked playfully.
Dan chuckled softly, "Everything I've ever wanted to say to you, Blair, is already in there; the whole damned book is your very own personal message from me to you." He wasn't sure where he got the courage from to be so forward with her; it was probably the alcohol. Or maybe it was the fact that it was now or never; Blair would be leaving for Monaco tomorrow night and he doubted whether he would ever see her again.
Blair took the book from him gingerly, nervously running her fingers over the cover. Then with some resolve she looked up at him, stepped forward and hugged him, kissing him softly on the cheek, she whispered into his ear, "Take care of yourself, Cabbage Patch." Finally she turned away from him and walked out of the room, Dan stared after her but she didn't look back.
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