Disclaimer: I own nothing.
As a child, she'd always been the child everyone adored, she'd been the one people had admired, and Serena had always been second-best. Blair had been the porcelain doll; perfect hair, perfect teeth, defined features, and respectable demeanour, and Serena had been the second choice. Serena had been casual, real, wild, blonde hair trailing unruly behind her. Blair had been the girl who had the manicured fingers, cute outfits, perfect hair and immaculate appearance; she had once been the daughter her mother wanted. Whereas Serena had ruined all her nice clothes, and preferred to wear whatever was comfortable and laying around than the neat things her mother forced her into. She had certain energy, a livelihood that was bubbling, but people saw what they wanted to see. Her mother was as ashamed of her as the other high-class parents who wanted her to conform at such an early age.
Serena had the talent, the brains, the persona, but she would never come first. By pre-teens Blair was given the credit for all good that Serena accomplished, she was given the parts in plays, solos in choir, in everything she was placed before Serena, because Blair was the epitome of the Upper East Sider's and Serena was seen as the rebellious one because she choose to be different.
As teenagers Serena acted out, she could gain no one's approval, and she'd accepted that she'd always be second best, but she'd found a new way to be different. Blair was saving herself, she still blushed when talking about kissing, but Serena found that some guys were attracted to her more rebellious side, some guys even liked her better than Blair purely because she wasn't a doll; she was real. So she slept around, fucked random guys who never expected her to be an angel, guys that wanted her for her. And the thrill? It had nothing to do with the 'perfect' best-friend.
But Blair wasn't as perfect as everyone thought, a fact that Serena basked in. Because, for all the adoring looks and flawlessness, Serena knew that Blair and her family were fucked up too. Blair had had eating disorders from age ten, at which stage not even her mother had noticed, she had started lying to avoid trouble when she was six, and she constantly cried over the littlest things, Blair's dad had been caught kissing one of the male models, Blair's mum was taking all sorts of pills; and no one knew any of it, no one but Serena.
Serena loved her best-friend, always had and hoped to forever more. But Blair did many things that Serena despised, and sometimes Serena couldn't help but wonder how she was best-friends with someone that did many things Serena hated. She hated how Blair constantly lied, slapped the blame onto others, treated so many like shit, discriminated by social-standing. She didn't understand how, after all these years, Blair could still be like that to her.
When Blair's life went down the tubes, Serena expected to feel happier; she expected to feel some form of relief. Because all those years, she'd been waiting for poetic justice, and that what she believed was happening. But she didn't, she felt bad for her friend, and that was when Serena fully comprehended that she hadn't wanted the limelight for years, because that way, all your major mishaps and mistakes appear worse, even if the little ones are covered up.
So although she'd once been jealous, Serena had become to appreciate her spot in the dim lights. It was the way things were, and she no longer blamed Blair. It was simply that she and Blair were different, and they always would be. Because Blair would always be seen as perfect, and Serena would always be seen as the wild one. What can I say? Life's a bitch until you die.
Note: Found this on my computer and have no recollection of writing it. Any one pick up on the last line? I borrowed it from Veronica Mars. Lol. Anyway, please review!!