A/N: Sorry about the wait. I went on vacation and when I came back I had a million and one things to do. Keep reading and reviewing- I love seeing everything you guys have to say. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

XXXX

With Chuck Bass, at least, chivalry wasn't dead. He helped Ivy out of the limo at Victrola and led her into the place, his hand against the small of her back. He hadn't had to change, dressed as he was in suit and tie, but she had. In one of the penthouse's many closets she'd found a red dress, loud in colour but otherwise respectable, tight enough to show she was a woman but loose enough to show she was a lady- as the saying went. She hadn't overlooked Chuck's appreciative gaze, nor had she disliked it. Happiness bubbled up inside of her. It was fun to go out into the world as herself, not Charlie but Ivy, and she was going to enjoy the hell out of this evening.

"Welcome, Mr. Bass," cooed the woman at the door before lifting the red velvet rope to allow them inside.

The club was packed with voyeurs, trendsetters, the idle rich with drinks in their hands and pills in their pockets. He showed her to a couch in front of the stage. A young woman in fishnets and heels approached bearing a tray of champagne glasses. Chuck took two, offering one to Ivy, who took it gladly.

"I feel like I've done more drinking with you since I got to New York than I have in my whole life before that," she said, but she was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the music, and had to lean over until she was practically in his lap for him to hear her. Her hair fell out from behind her ear, forming a blonde curtain beside her face. Chuck looked at her, amused.

"I've lived in New York for twenty-one years. You have some catching up to do," he said.

She sat back to enjoy the show. Burlesque. Indulgence masquerading as art. Garter belts, stockings and lace, relics of a different age. What had happened to this world? Teasing, tantalizing had all gone out the window in exchange for cheap thrills and overexposure. I want a corset, Ivy thought.

"You look pensive," Chuck said. "What are you thinking about?"

"Buying a corset," she said.

He grinned. "I'll drink to that."

She touched her glass to his.

XXXX

Seeing Blair again had made Serena realize something- she couldn't bear living in the same place as her any longer. She made her apologies to Lily and bolted from the loft, hurrying to Blair's penthouse and praying that Blair wasn't intending to go home that night. Luckily for Serena, Blair wasn't at home, but knowing she could return at any moment, Serena emptied drawer after drawer, flinging her stuff into bags without care. Thankfully Dorota's work was done for the day, since if she knew what Serena was doing, she'd call Blair immediately. And Serena didn't feel like dealing with Blair at the moment. Not her false concern, not her big doe eyes, not her lies about how their friendship was more important than any boy.

She called the doorman to take her bags down to the car, which waited downstairs to take her to the Empire. Serena was up in her bedroom, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything, when she heard it. The elevator. She knew it wasn't the doorman, because he was waiting for her in the lobby. It must be her roommate.

Serena listened. She heard the low hum of Blair's voice, coming up in a laugh at the end of her sentence. Then- and here Serena's stomach dropped- a male voice. A very familiar male voice. Dan Humphrey and Blair Waldorf were here, and Serena knew what they were going to do.

"I'm happy you're ready to try again," Dan said, voice muffled by walls and insulation, yet nothing could separate Serena from the pain of those words.

"Me, too," Blair replied.

She couldn't run out now. She would have to explain herself. And what if they'd seen her suitcases being loaded into the car? She'd have to wait until they were distracted. Her stomach turned at the thought of what that distraction would be.

They walked up the stairs. Serena heard Blair's heels, tap-tap-tap on the shiny surface, followed by the good, solid clump made by Dan's shoes. They entered Blair's room. Kissing, the sound of clothes being removed and dropped to the floor. Tears welled in Serena's eyes, stupid tears, signs of emotions she was trying so hard not to feel. A creak of bedsprings, a sigh. Blair's voice- oh!- and Dan's low moan and Serena felt like she was about to be sick, literally, physically sick.

She stole out of her bedroom (not that it was her bedroom anymore) and made her way down the stairs as quickly as she could. She paused only for a moment by the table in the foyer, just to leave a note explaining where she'd gone. And then she got into the elevator and she got the hell out of that penthouse because the only thing she would find there was misery, and she had enough of that to last her a lifetime.

XXXX

Nate got home from the Spectator late, far later than usual, and immediately traded his business suit for a T-shirt and jeans. It felt like forever since he'd last had a casual night in alone. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy going out to dinner with Lola, or hanging out with Chuck, but sometimes a guy just needed to relax and watch some TV.

That all went out the window when Serena arrived. She walked into the suite, beautiful and bitter and sad, and took a seat beside him. Any other person and Nate might have been a bit annoyed at the disruption to his solitude, but she looked so unhappy, he couldn't stand it.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied. He gestured towards the TV with a hand. "It'scalled Awake. Ever seen it?"

"No."

"It's good. That's the guy from Harry Potter. He's a detective. He was in this car accident, and…" He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Red-rimmed eyes, mascara slightly smudged, her focus on the show flimsy at best. Nate grabbed the remote, pressed 'Pause'. She turned to him like she was just realizing that he was there.

"Chuck said you were staying in the hotel for a bit."

She looked away. "Yeah."

"I hate seeing you so sad."

"Well, I hate being so sad."

He opened his arms to her and she crawled into them, leaning her head on his chest, letting him hold her like a child. "For the record," he told her, "I think what Dan and Blair are doing is really insensitive."

"What am I supposed to do, Nate? I tell them they can be together and they make me feel like this. I tell them it makes me uncomfortable and they're all pouty, or they just start sneaking around behind my back. There's no win in this situation."

"I know."

"I thought me and Blair were in a good place, you know? But we spent more time together back in high school than we do now when we live in the same apartment. Not to mention that now I have to listen to her fuck the guy I love in the other room."

"Jesus," Nate said. Serena never usually talked like that. An ugly word for an ugly situation. "Serena, I'm sorry."

"I just don't know what I did wrong. He used to love me! It was a long time ago, but he loved me. What happened to us? Why can't we just go back to that? Weren't we happy?"

"I don't know why you'd want to go back, honestly."

He felt her tense up against him. "What?"

"Dan's changed. You must have noticed that. He used to be all up on his high horse, preaching to us about morals and integrity and doing the right thing. Now? He's lying, he's letting other people take the fall for stuff he's done, he's hooking up with your best friend when he knows exactly how you feel about him… Serena, you're too good for him, and you always were."

"But I love him," she said, and she sounded so miserable that for a moment Nate felt compelled to leap from his seat, find Dan Humphrey and give him a solid punch to the face. "And didn't I do the same thing? You know… with you and me?"

"We were teenagers. And you tried so hard to fix things- don't you remember? You pushed me away. You were determined to put her feelings before mine because she was your best friend, and I was the guy she loved, and that was how it was supposed to stay. It didn't work out, as we know, but it wasn't because of you. It was because of me. You're a great person, Serena. Don't let Dan Humphrey make you doubt that."

Serena sniffed. She hadn't thought it was possible for anyone to make her feel better. But she hadn't considered Nate. "Well," she said, "you're not so bad yourself."

"Thanks," Nate said.

"Anytime."

XXXX

"Can I see you dance?" Ivy asked. She was a little drunk. The fizz of the champagne seemed to have settled in her brain. And this place, heavy with smoke and music, wasn't doing anything to help her sobriety.

Chuck laughed. "You don't want to."

"Come on! Mr. Upper East Side doesn't know how to dance?"

"Not the kind of dancing that befits this place."

"Then…" she said, "we'll leave this place!"

"And go where?"

She sighed, impatient with his lack of imagination, and grabbed his hand. "Follow me!" she said, pulling him up off the couch and towards the exit. Obediently he trailed her out the door, down the block, past passersby who gave them strange looks and then down into an alleyway between an Egyptian restaurant and a wedding dress store. Ivy released him. Despite their impromptu workout she wasn't a bit out of breath. If anything, she was more buzzed than she had been before. Chuck, of course, was as composed as ever. She leaned against the cold brick wall behind her and stared at him expectantly.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Well?"

"What did we come here to do? I want you to dance!"

He laughed. "Can't dance without a partner," he said, and held out his hand.

She took it. Chuck drew her away from the wall, closer to him, leaving an appropriate amount of space between them. Ivy hated that space. He clasped her fingers in his own, put his other hand on her waist. After a moment, she remembered what she was supposed to do, and put her hand on his shoulder. She could smell that cologne again, sharp and fragrant, and it was a good thing Chuck was paying attention to what they were doing because she certainly wasn't. He moved his feet slowly, striking out a simple pattern on the rough ground beneath them. Ivy copied him.

No talking, no music, just the two of them dancing in an alleyway, darkness pressing in on all sides, the lights from the street and the shops seeming miles away. He twirled her and she laughed, unworried and unfettered by anything. It felt like if they just kept dancing, maybe everything else would work itself out, and they could stay where they were forever.