A/N: Next chapter finally done… also if you have something you want to know about a character ect., drop me a line and I can reveal it…
Guest (Both guests!): Yes, Chuck is going to make an appearance, this chapter, not a huge one, but a definite appearance. :) Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment, means a lot. Let me know what you think about this next one x
sp: I will write more, since people seem to like it! Your comment means a lot, thank you.
the best girlfriends are psycho-girlfriends
"So… how was math class?" Lusaka Bass asked her boyfriend, Dominic Archibald.
Dom swirled the coffee dregs around in his polystyrene cup. "You know."
Lusaka scooted her chair closer and rested her head on her hands. "I spent all of English class thinking of you." Her chocolate-brown Asian eyes glinted wickedly. "If only Miss knew what I was thinking about…"
Dom forced a smile and a chuckle. Talk about clingy. "If only."
She crossed her long, tan legs at the ankles. "So, what are we going to do today? We could go round mine."
"That's cool." Dom got out of his chair and put their empty coffee cups in the bin. He watched as Lusaka left the café in front of him, not seeing but probebly knowing that Dom was staring at her.
It was a cold, windy February day but she wore a short brown dress that covered only the tops of her thighs. Her lithe, tan legs went on forever, ending in small brown kitten heels. Her dress had only two spaghetti straps, leaving equally tanned arms on show and left no part of her chest to the imagination. Her long, dark brown hair fanned around her shoulders. She was gorgeous, and boy, did she know it. As Dominic closed the café door she turned her head and winked at him with thick black lashes. Suddenly going to her house seemed a much better decision.
He noticed the goosebumps on her arms as they walked back to her upper-east side apartment. "Do you want my jacket or something?" He asked her.
She giggled. "No, I'm okay." She stuck her chest out more. From his angle Dom could see all the way down.
And he was glad she'd refused his jacket.
Eventually they reached the Bass apartment. They were greeted inside by a small, white monkey. Lusaka kicked her leg out at it. "Get lost, fleabag." She took Dom's hand and led him upstairs.
Lusaka's father stopped them on the first step. "What's going on here now?" He smiled at them.
Dominic shuffled his feet and put on an innocent smile. Not thinking about your daughter's chest area. "Hello, Mr. Bass."
Chuck waved them on. "Go on, you two. Dinner's at six, Lusy."
His daughter rolled her eyes and dragged Dom upstairs to her room.
A huge double bed with curtains around towered in the centre of the room. As soon as they entered Lusy jumped onto it.
He nervously crossed the room and joined her on the bed.
She turned her stereo on and changed the CD. 'The Crash' started pounding in the background. "So, what do you want to do?" she asked him.
Dom shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know what to do when he was sat on a girl's bed with a girl who was obviously coming on to him. Well, he knew what he could do.
Let's leave them here, shall we?
one of many reasons to have a cigarette
"Did you see her in Teen magazine?" One of the boys in Luke's class asked the circle of St Jude's students. He passed round a magazine clipping.
"Whoa, that dress is tight!" Another replied, staring at the picture.
Luke wandered over. "What's up guys? What're you looking at?" He turned the clipping around so he could see it.
It was a picture of his mom at a recent photo shoot, here in New York. And his friends were ogling it. Gross.
Luke ripped the picture in half and dumped it in the bin, leaving his friends to discuss his mom's tight dress without him.
He sat on some benches outside the school and lit a cigarette. He usually left them alone, but he needed something for his hands to do or he'd get angry.
People staring at his mother like that wasn't new to him. She was beautiful – and one of the most successful models and actresses in not only New York, but America and even the world. After her first blockbuster hit, Wildfire, her popularity increased until she was even more famous than Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie in their time. She was the actress, the one where every movie she starred in became a hit, every dress she modelled sold out, every director and designer begged her to work with them.
Luke found it sickening.
She had thousands of fans all over the world with her pictures on their bedroom walls, dreaming about being her friend or lover, believing they were her biggest fan. They would never even come close.
Serena van der Woodsen's fame impacted on Luke's life as well. Wherever a teenage boy was needed for a film, a Hollywood producer would be ringing Serena non-stop for Luke to audition. Everyone wanted to be the one who 'discovered' Luke; the boy who everyone hoped had his mother's talent, but if he didn't, he still had the look. Everyone wanted a piece of that profit. World class directors like Pierre Petrucci, Michael Rünberg, and Callum Williams had their landline on speed dial.
Sickening.
Luke took a slow drag on his cigarette. He didn't even know if he wanted to be an actor, or a model. He had no doubt he would make a good model – not for his talent, but for the fact that girls often formed conspicuous lines behind him to ask for a photo. One girl even asked him for an autograph as well.
Luke didn't know his dad, but he liked to pretend it was Nate Archibald. He was loose, cool, and liked simple things like sailing. Sometimes Nate would take Luke on sailing trips with him. He would close his eyes at night, on the Cornelia, and pretend when he opened them in the morning, he was Nate's son.
He loved his mom and wouldn't swap her for anything, but why couldn't Nate be his father? Then things with Audrey wouldn't be so complicated, and his mom would be happy and not bring strange actors home.
Besides, he knew Nate and Serena had some weird history behind them. That's why on a recent sailing trip, Nate had phoned Serena every day. Every day his mom would take the phone into her bedroom and spend ages, sometimes even hours, talking to someone else's husband. Of course, Luke didn't know Nate was ignoring Blair. But Serena did.
He'd overheard that conversation a few months ago. "But Nate," Serena had said, "Why are you not returning Blair's calls? She's really upset about it. … Yes I know she's mad. But - … I think she's suspicious."
It got to a point when even Luke thought maybe they were having an affair. And Blair spent hours pleading him for information he didn't have. Poor Blair. He liked to spend time round hers with Audrey and Dom so he could keep an eye on whether she was okay.
Luke put the cigarette butt out on the bench and mooched back into school.
No point rushing when you're already ten minutes late for class.
how to be a cougar, A style
Audrey hung around outside the school gates with a cup of skinny latté cupped in her hands. She was bored out of her mind after her brother was spending all of his time with the Imported-Slut.
Dominic had come home at three in the morning with messed hair and clothes, tripping over her shoes and slamming into her door, waking her up.
When she'd learned he was going out with the Imported-Slut she'd had a nice bitch about it with her mom.
"He's going out with who?" Her mother had asked.
"Lusaka Bass. That one from Asia or something."
"Oh… Chuck Bass's daughter?"
"Yeah. Her skirts don't even cover her ass. It's a good job her hair does."
"I saw her wearing neon green shoes. What a slut."
Now Dominic was at their house with the Slut; doing whatever they want in the bed Audrey had sometimes shared with her brother as a kid. Gross.
And she was left hanging around outside school because she was lonely. No brother, no Luke, not even her mom and baby sister; who were at some baby-class learning to play the piano. She could go to wherever her dad was staying, but that was probebly on the horrible old boat, and he would mope and beg for the house keys or something.
What she needed was a boyfriend, to annoy her brother.
A lanky boy with messy sandy-hair came up to her. It was that younger boy, the one who'd done the prehistoric dance moves with her at her birthday party. Stella's brother. Mark, or something.
"Oh, hello, Mack." She said. Couldn't let him get too cocky.
Mark shuffled nervously, kicking gravel into the road. "It's Mark."
Audrey nodded and stayed silent. Mark offered her a cigarette, but she shook her head. "Those death-sticks. No freaking way. Have you heard the way adults sound because they smoked, like, ten a day at our age?"
Mark lit his anyway. "When my dad coughs I swear soot comes out of his mouth."
Audrey tried to hide a giggle, but it came out anyway. She took a gulp of steaming-hot latté. "But still you smoke them."
Mark shrugged. "What's up with you and Stella then?"
Audrey turned to face him. "If that's why you're here, get lost." She crossed her arms and swivelled away from him.
"No, no. I just wanted to know. She's totally annoying most times. I feel sorry for you being her friend."
Audrey smiled. "That's a bit harsh, about your sister."
"And you don't think those things about your brother sometimes?"
"Well… not until today. He's going out with that slut, Lusaka Bass, in my class. So he's ditched me."
Mark kicked a tin across the street. "That sucks. Wanna hang out, at the park or something?"
Audrey didn't have anything else to do. And if he turned out to be a jerk, she'd just go home. "Yeah, sure."
.uk
hey people!
This week we've seen way too much of L, literally. She doesn't wear clothes that are going to keep her warm. How fabulous will she look with a red nose when she's caught a cold, and we're all snug as a bug in a rug, and gorgeous as usual. Besides, when else can you break out a stunning fair-isle sweater? Actually… all the time.
your e-mail
Q: Dear GG,
What do you think of a boy going out with someone older than them? Because I've seen a boy from around here with a girl who I know is like, way older. Isn't that, like, illegal?
-wants2know
A: Hey wants2know,
What's your definition of way older? If he's 15 and she's 45, yes, that's illegal. And way creepy. But I think I know who you're talking about and… you're exaggerating slightly.
-GG
Q: Hi GG,
I firmly believe that all clothing should be practical, especially in such a cold time as winter, and I am bemused to report I have seen a teenage girl around the streets of our fair New York, exposing her limbs in nothing but a strapless mini-dress! I am outstanded! And fur is murder!
-petapeter
A: Hi petapeter,
I have translated this e-mail so that some of you more street-wise readers can understand it:
I, like, think that when it's cold, you should wear a sweater, right? I seen some girl from round 'ere flashing her legs, like it's summer, right? And fur is, like, killing an animal.
-GG
Sightings
D and L kissing in the park (although I wish I didn't have to see it). A and M walking out of the park (wishing they didn't have to see it). L, S, and some strange man ordering pizza. Who is this older gentleman? B and Y hugging on B's doorstep.
You know you love me,
gossip girl
never trust a real estate agent
Yale wrapped her arms around her older sister. "It's so good to be here in New York. I know it's your home."
Blair picked up a green Louis Vuitton Suitcase and ushered Yale inside. "I'm glad you'll finally get to live here." She left the bags at the foot of the stairs and swept into the living room, shouting for Bertha, the maid, as she went. Her familiar chestnut hair bounced off her shoulders, and her light pink Prada button dress swished around her legs.
Yale dropped her bags by the suitcase and followed Blair. They both sat together on the cream-coloured sofa as Bertha brought them tea and scones. Bryony toddled towards her mother and Aunt; raising her arms to join them on the sofa.
Blair smiled encouragingly at Yale. "Is everything okay?"
Yale nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I mean – I'm okay. Thank you for letting me stay here."
"That's fine. You can stay as long as you need. Do you want to do something today?"
Yale hesitated. Did Blair really need to know about her nightmares? "Um, I'd like to go to bed. I haven't slept well recently. This way we can do something nice tomorrow, with your children." She got up from the sofa and started towards the door.
Blair grabbed her arm, standing up with her. She lowered her voice. "Yale, are you okay?"
"Mmm, sure. I'm just tired."
"Tell me, Yale."
Yale attempted to squirm out of Blair's death-grip. "I'm fiiiine. Leave me alone to sleep! Sheesh!" She tried to smile but it felt fake.
Her sister shook her head but let go as she watched Yale take her suitcases up with Bertha. "Bertha gets paid for that, honey, let her carry the bags." She called.
Yale collapsed on the guest bed as Bertha left the room. She rustled the silk bedspread with her hands and felt the tiny beads and sequins. The covers were from a trip to China Blair had taken after a particularly long-winded case. She said China was "as beautiful as she thought it would be". When Yale went there in her gap year she thought it was an unpleasant experience – never had she seen so many people on one street, sometimes with no arms or legs; sometimes people were cutting up live toads and chickens on the streets. Some parts were beautiful too, but she didn't think Blair had been to anywhere populated.
Yale missed her old boyfriend. She had imagined they would marry and have children… but after all this time Drew was cheating on her.
Drew was a property salesman, and would spend nights or days or weeks in other places to sell houses and buildings. California, Texas, Seattle, LA, even abroad; Paris and Rome, and he would always bring her presents back. Many of her dresses and necklaces and rings and shoes were from Drew's travels. Now they were burnt at the end of his garden. At every place he stayed he would hang around nightclubs and pick up women. Yale only realised when a pregnant woman came knocking on her door looking for money. Apparently she was never paid for her 'services' and wanted money from Drew for their baby.
She was forgetting about him every day now, though. She didn't need him, but she still missed the way he was around her. Although it was all just a lie.
s's holiday from hell
Luke dropped his schoolbag by the front door and froze as he saw a strange man in the living room. "Uh… mom?"
Serena walked around Samuel to reach her son. She pulled him in for a hug. "Hi Lukey. This is… Samuel Rivera. He's an actor. Um… you must know him. He was in Takedown II. You liked that film, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but I thought he was a crap actor." Luke replied, eying the man.
Serena pinched his back. "Don't be so rude. I raised you better than that."
Samuel chuckled and extended his hand towards Luke, who ignored it. "That's okay." He said in his Spanish accent. "That movie was crap. The lines were all bad."
Luke smiled insincerely and bounded up the stairs.
Serena turned towards Samuel and chuckled nervously. "You know teenagers…"
Samuel put his arm around her and laughed. "We were all teenagers once."
Serena excused herself to check on her son. As she approached his door she heard the insanely-loud music coming from his stereo, which meant he'd rather be left alone.
Wandering away, Serena entered her bedroom and led down on her bed. Lately she had been feeling so lost. She turned onto her side and picked up a photo frame from the bedside table. It contained a picture of herself, Blair and Nate at the beach. They'd gone on holiday to Spain one year when they were twenty-two, and it had been Serena's best holiday yet.
A few hours after the photo was taken, Blair revealed she was engaged to Nate.
The happy couple had mistaken Serena's crying for tears of joy. Inside her heart had finally given up; her brain wanted to be ignorant as to why she was so upset, but her conscious was all too happy to provide an explanation. There was no more hiding. I love Nate. I love Nate. I love Nate.
Nate is better off with me. He's happier with me, we can laugh and joke – Uptight. Blair is uptight and I am so more – Marriage is not him. That's Blair. He's not into – me.
He doesn't love me.
The conflicting feelings had worn her down like the sea eroding the shore. She tried to keep the water off the shore; to push down her feelings for Nate and be happy for him, but the tide would always come in and batter her heart. Finally the tsunami had wore her down and she was crying the sea – big, salty tears forming waterfalls down her cheeks.
"I'm so happy for you." She had said as she wrapped her arms around Blair's waist and hugged her fiercely.
When they were younger the two had believed they shared psychic powers and could share images and thoughts with each other. They just put their heads together and exchanged thoughts.
At that exact moment, as she hugged Blair, her love letter to Nate flashed into her mind.
The next day she flew home with tummy pains. Partially true, but it wasn't her heart that hurt.
On the flight home, silent tears racked her body with shudders, and her heart stung with the pins Blair was driving through it.
He loves Blair. He loves Blair. He loves