Their romance fell somewhere between farce and tragedy
Their romance fell somewhere between farce and tragedy. In the movie of her life- the one she re scripted on a daily basis- it was all kinds of wrong. He simply refused to fit into any of the hashed out characters and plot sequences she had spent so many years carefully selecting. He wasn't the prince or the stable boy or the reformed play boy.
Stubbornly, defiantly he would not be anyone but himself. And she had to admit to herself that frustrating as this was, it was still very attractive. He was rough around the edges but slick at the core. He made no pretence of any redeeming quality, he didn't skulk or brood and compared to emo behaviour radiating from every one of her ex boyfriends at the moment this was- refreshing to say the least.
They defied destiny and scorned the stars. They were so far from compatible that after that first night in Prague, waking up beside him in the deep cashmere sheets she freaked out worse than she ever had before. Not even the lack of romance from her deflowering could compare with the horror of breaking dawn in Carter Baizen's arms.
She was on the phone all morning with shrinks, fortune tellers and ex best friends, desperate for someone to shed some light on the situation at hand. The general consensus was the same. It was imperative that she forget all about her tryst with the handsome outlaw and strive to move on. Serena also recommended a medical check up because she was fairly sure the Baizen carried diseases.
And so she took the next flight to France, hyperventilating all the way to Paris when she realized her little ruby ring was on his bedside table and she would never see it again. And she would never see him again was another thought.
Her mind whirled when the plane finally touched ground, her legs wobbling as she teetered into the limousine that was to drive her to her father's house. Memories of that night must be erased. She was going to have to forget how he stood there, tall and sexy and utterly bewildered to see her. She would forget how her heart leap when he bent low over her hand, his lips brushing over the skin and igniting a liquid fire within her. Its flames skimmed over her body, causing to move closer to him as he talked about his covert new job, his numerous adventures and how he'd never ever looked back.
It was all she could do to keep her head while they talked, stumbling over her polite responses to his every question. She could barely recall the answers herself. What was she doing in Prague, of all places? How was Serena? And the rest of their little rat pack? Wasn't it such a coincidence that they'd bumped into each other? To think he'd almost gone straight to Vienna, only making this little detour to see the one European master piece he had yet to see. And wasn't it simply wonderful he's done so.
And then next thing she knew she'd dropped her snotty tone and forgotten he was an outlaw. She cut him off mid sentence and was demanding to know when exactly he was going to stop talking and start kissing her.
Minutes later, she was pressed up against the wall of the elevator, mouth fastened to his, riding up and waiting for him to toss her on to his huge king sized bed because it just happened to be one of those months that Daddy Dearest was pleased with him and the family coffers were in easy access and have his wicked way with her.
She'd never slept more deeply in her life. He was already awake when she opened her eyes and he smiled at her dazed expression. A few kisses peppered over her lips and cheeks and he was out the door with the promise of breakfast to satisfy her rumbling stomach.
This was when she had snatched up her phone and racked up a bill the size of the Atlantic. The jury's verdict was more drastic than she could have imagined so she tugged on her red dress from the night before, absentmindedly fixed her hair and rushed out of the room with her heels in her hands before the hunter and gatherer could return.
And here she was now, crying in to Cat's fur and wondering why it didn't rain harder. Because she had lost her ruby ring to Carter and nothing would ever be the same again. She wished for a tropical storm to come and just drown her away.
The weeks passed slowly and rather well. Serena called a lot because she basically thought B was having a mental breakdown and couldn't see why else Blair would sleep with Upper East Side scum. It was really worse than her own brief affair with Dan because Dan was born to Brooklyn. He didn't have the effrontery to actually throw away a position of New York royalty. The thought gave the blonde a certain self righteous pleasure in finally having the moral high ground with Miss Prim and Proper and if Blair nurtured any objections to her holier than thou take on the situation she had yet to show it. She was meek. It was a kind of blessed travesty.
She was thankful that her former bestie had refrained from mentioning her latest indiscretion to the fearsome Eleanor Waldorf. Her mother was always ready to have a meltdown at the drop of a hat and the knowledge that her only offspring, currently across the pond to promote her latest fashion line during her college break, had made use of her time by spending the night with a Baizen that Baizen in particular may just cause her to liquefy New York City.
