Based on Jenny's debutante. What was going through Eric's head, with a much less Eric version of himself.
I own nothing but obsession for the show. ;]
Jenny gave Eric her best look, the Queen Bee look. Vicious, fierce. That was Jenny Humphrey these days.
Eric did a once over of Jenny's body, the last time for the night he told himself. That dress was divine. That dress was everything on Jenny Humphrey. And he was supposed to be gay. And he was supposed to be her brother.
But he didn't feel very brotherly, or much attraction to any of the rich pretty boys around. Oh no. He was too busy watching Jenny's chest rise and fall, her square shoulders straight and that fiery look in her eye.
He felt everything change that night. He felt himself change. There had been sisterly love, and jealously over that overrated guy. Grindel? Greg? Some up-himself snob with nothing to him but his money. Eric wanted to spit in disgust. Jenny deserved someone better to show her off . . . Show off her shiny blond hair or her ice-blue eyes. But now there was everything. There was that tremble in his veins as his heart raced.
He was playing risky games with Blair. He was crossing over to the dark side of the upper east. Blair batted her eyelashes innocently. All she wanted was payback. Her heart was cold, full of petty desire to rule what she didn't have anymore. She was grasping onto something out of her reach. Blair was nothing in this; she was just a veteran of high school warfare. Eric was using her. It felt wrong, but terribly good too. He was bad. Like the villain. And for once, Eric thought, the villain deserves to win.
And then he heard she was foiling his plans. He'd worked so hard – for her benefit. Yeah, that's right, so she could be the old Jenny Humphrey. Not for his own pathetic, surely temporary lust for Jenny that would pass by tomorrow. His sister Jenny Humphrey. She just looked nice in the dress was all.
Then it was over. Years of being with Jonathon, over. He knew he should be pissed and depressed. But he couldn't stop his eyes lingering on Jenny . . . On her soft hair, or her milky skin, or her long legs.
Jonathon retreated, and he watched Jenny and Nate dance the rest of the night away. He remembered the stupid fight Vanessa and her had over the Archibald.
"Pretty boy," muttered Eric to himself.
He talked to Jenny, her minions following close behind. He missed the days when he and Jenny could walk together, as equals. Before Goth was cool and before she became Social Heiress of being a total, utter bitch.
He watched Jenny's retreating figure, a blur of blond hair and sugary scent. A girl with curly hair and a blue dress strolled up to him, her face shocked. The girl Blair had built, practically from scratch, started talking to him. He didn't hear her words. She looked up at him with bright eyes, waiting for an answer.
"Don't worry. Next time we bring down Jenny, it'll be for good," he told her angrily, his heart thudding. He was getting Jenny back, whether those motherfuckers liked it or not.