AN: Thanks for being patient guys. Please peep the Footnote.
Music: Moon River – Breakfast at Tiffany's
The sky clamored and wept all at once, blanketing the New York streets with a steady sheath of rain. Blair bundled her khaki coat as she crossed the wet streets. Her heels sloshing and slapping the asphalt as she briefly wondered why the melodic notes of Moon River were wafting through the city air. Nevertheless, Blair bounded cross the road, cars honking and splashing until she reached the sidewalk. Her hair was dripping out of its up-do, her eye liner was bleeding down her cheeks and she yelled.
"Cat!"
"Cat!" "Where are you, Cat?"
And to the cry came a muffled meow from the alley between the buildings in front of her. Blair stumbled into the alley way towards it.
"Cat!" she hollered over the imposing harmonica- crying now from exhausted desperation as she crossed into a dark space between a garbage – and a rusty fire escape.
"Cat?" She squinted as she stepped further- the music becoming deafening- until she froze and released a guttural shriek of horror.
James stepped out from the shadows, snickering and spilling dark blood from his mouth with every laugh. His dirty blonde hair was mangled in it. In his hands were the petrified and gory remains of Cat, the cat. Blair covered her mouth to stop from throwing up on the spot and that made him laugh even harder. All the while the rain was spilling over them both.
She gave a shaky groan and tottered away from him. His eyes danced after her as she began to stumble away from the alley to the streets, clutching her stomach and weeping. With exaggerated slowness, he stalked after her with the widest grin on his face.
She broke from the alley into the streets but they were suddenly empty. The cars, the sloshing, all gone.
"Help!" She shrieked and picked up pace. Blair could feel him behind her, reveling in her frantic fear.
Several yards ahead of her a cloaked figure stood in front of a store window- examining its contents and completely oblivious of her shrieking. Forcing herself along, she sped up until she completely knocked into him.
Not even pausing to see whose hands had clasped her waist to steady her she blurted. "Please- you have to help me. There's a madman after me and he killed my cat- now I'm next." She began to pant and cry all at once. "He's—he's a va-"She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "He's…"
And that's when she realized the cloak stranger smelled of earth, wine, and imported wood.
"Blair…"
"No. No. No," she whispered and shook all over.
"Blair…" His arms enfolded her until she was pressed to his chest. "Open your eyes," that hauntingly melodic voice whispered more forcefully.
"I can't-"she cried softly and shook her head against his wet coat. "You won't be real if I do."
"Blair!"
"Blair!"
He began to shake her with force.
"Blair" A higher more frantic voice rang out.
"Blair wake darling. Open your eyes."
It was jarringly dark when she did; her eyes were slow in discerning her robed mother sitting at her bed side, looking down at her with concern. She sat up quickly.
"My Goodness, Blair, are you alright."
"Yes," she said groggily.
"You were screaming bloody murder in your sleep-"
Her daughter nodded drowsily in disinterested acceptance of that fact as if this was no new news to her at all.
The lights suddenly jarred them both as Dorota rushed in, flipping the switches and causing a conundrum.
"Blair! What is matter! You scream so loud!"
Blair shook her head several times, and tried to squint away from the light. "I know… I was just…having a nightmare."
"I was so afraid burglar try to get in. Mees Blair- must try not to scare me like that. Especially with us just three women and not a man in the house."
In response to such a proclamation of there being "not a man" in the house, both Blair and her mother cast their eyes downward and gave a pitiful self sigh.
And then something remarkable occurred. A rueful chuckle escaped Blair's lips. And then Eleanor found herself laughing as well. The laughter persisted and Dorota was looking at the two women sitting up in the bed, draped in an array of silk and laughing like they'd escaped from Bedlam in utter confusion.
"What is funny?" Dorota demanded.
Blair could only laugh harder.
"You," Eleanor sobered a bit. "Goodness, Dorota you act like this is a spinster house in Victorian times."
Blair laughed hysterically and suddenly began to weep.
"Blair, what-" Eleanor began to ask as they both rushed to the weeping girl in concern.
She shook her mother's arms away from her. "I'm fine." Despite her words tears continued to stream from her eyes.
At this Eleanor stared down at the weeping girl looking utterly perplexed. Fortunately, the ever maternal Dorota swooped in and seemed to know exactly what to do. She rushed forward and enfolded her in arms and Blair did not resist. Eleanor could only stand idly by as the rotund woman in her ridiculously fluffy pink robe and hair set in colorful rollers, wrapped Blair up arms, like a mother crow and whisked the hysterical girl out of the room with a simple, "Come. I make tea for bad dream."
Blair allowed Dorota to fly her to the kitchen and set herself down at the conciliatory bar stool. Dorota busied herself with making tea and Blair watched her, feeling embarrassed and exhausted.
The kettle screamed. Dorota made her a cup of tea with honey and got right to it the way only tired family maid could.
"Is this about dreadful boy?"
After lingering in the doorway of the kitchen unbeknownst, Eleanor found it a pertinent time to make her presence known. She cleared her throat and took loud strides into the room.
"That will be all, Dorota," she crisply announced.
Dorota looked at Blair who was looking down at her tea sleepily and Eleanor, let out a loud subordinate huff and quitted the kitchen. All the while mumbling in Ukraine about her sleep being disrupted.
Alone, Eleanor crossed her arms and examined her daughter for a long time. Blair had no interest; it seemed, in acknowledging her presence.
"You know…Blair your father was the only man I've ever loved," Eleanor announced, after a lengthy and awkward silence passed between them.
Of course, Blair did not respond and so Eleanor continued with her monologue.
"But, sometimes when you're in love. It makes you blind to other things."
Silence.
"You wake up one day and asked yourself, 'how did I not realize the man lying next to me has a completely different side to him'?"
"Blair… do you think that Roman, was your father's first affair, that I knew about?"
Blair glanced up. Awakened. "You mean…there were others."
Eleanor nodded and her daughter winced. "Never anything serious. He'd had his trysts with few models here and there. And when he started seeing Roman I didn't think anything of it. I guess I thought what we had together- our marriage, you, would be worth more than that."
"Ugh," she made a sound of disgust, "I guess it wasn't," she whispered.
"Blair darling I'm not telling you this for you to hate your father."
"Why not? You let me blame you?" she exclaimed. "I was so angry at you for not trying and you never told me…"
"Would it have made a difference," Eleanor asked and Blair was silenced. "Blair, you are your father's child to the fault. You get your idolized ideals of love from him.---And your pigheadedness from me," she finished with a rueful little smile.
Blair sighed in concession.
"I'm telling you this because- Well for awhile I thought our marriage was everything. Like it was my failure that caused this. That I could never be happy or love again."
"And now you're happy? In love? Oh my God, are you dating again. Some, older yet debonair rich gentleman you've been seeing in secret?" Blair's eyes were wide with hope and her voice was rising.
"Oh God no!" Blair deflated, pouting. Her mother chuckled at her expression. "You really are your father's child aren't you?"
"But yes, I am happy and do you want to know why?"
"Enlighten me," Blair grouched, her pout was causing the conversation to take a comedic route much to her own displeasure.
"Well… I have you," she said, and anticipating her daughter's protesting, she hastily continued with, "And as much as you think otherwise, I'm very happy to have you here, split ends and all."
"Your subtlety astounds me, mother," Blair mumbled with a small smile.
"You have gotten very serious, haven't you?"
"A trait a picked up." Blair shrugged, trying not to lose her light mood.
"And I have the most fabulous career," Eleanor continued, "I've achieved quite a bit these past two years with my brand. And without a man, no less," she chided, mocking Dorota's accent.
"Wait, is this some planned lesson to show me that I should harness my inner heartbreak and channel it towards total success in life which will in turn make me veritably happy?"
Eleanor gave a guilty little shrug and pursed up-turned lips. "Maybe."
Blair couldn't help but to laugh. "You're good."
"Well… did it work?"
She was silent for a moment- thinking the conversation thoroughly through then took a lengthy sip of tea.
"You know what, screw it."
"Excuse me? What are you screwing, exactly?"
"Men- young, old- they all completely suck!" her daughter revealed.
Eleanor just stared at her daughter indignantly.
"And I for one am done with them."
Eleanor sighed at her daughter's extremeness. There was no happy medium with Blair- it was either black or white and nothing in between. "Blair, 17 is too young to decide to give up me- Oh lord, you're not coming out of the closet are you?"
Seeing her mother's face so thoroughly sobered she burst into laughter.
"Oh thank God," Eleanor muttered.
"First off, I'm 18 and no I'm not giving up men. I'm giving up on beings who completely suck and that just so happens to include the male species. So until mankind finds a way to stop sucking, I've decided to focus my immense amounts of energy and cunning elsewhere – Like School," she finished dramatically and her mother resisted the urge to do a touchdown dance.
"Well… if that's really what you want…"
"Oh mother," Blair smiled, "Let's not pretend you're not overjoyed and breaking out the old Bull-dog sweater."
She shrugged. "Well in that case," she paused- smiling- "I'll have Dorota recover all the Yale paraphernalia in the morning."
The younger brunette rolled her eyes in silent bemusement. "You, know you're being awfully hard to despise right now."
"I know." Eleanor's lips quirked slightly and she placed a loving peck on top of her daughter's hair. "I have my moments." Blair didn't protest to the show of affection. Her mother continued to waft out of the kitchen, pausing at the light switch. "Don't stay up too late, darling, Remember, I made you an appointment for tomorrow morning," she called before swaying out of the room- leaving Blair alone with her thoughts to wonder which appointment she was referring to; Henri or Dr. Schwartz.
~x~
The next morning, Blair emerged from Henri's salon sporting new lightened locks and looking exponentially less pathetic than the day prior. After spending the vast majority of her morning re-enacting the makeover scene from Miss Congeniality, Blair was looking, cut, coiffed, and polished off with her sun kissed honey high-lights mocking the dull wintry weather.
Now what?
Around this time last year she was at school juggling manipulating an entire school, sleeping with two boys at once and trying to keep it from each other. How robust everything seemed when it was coated with scandal. But now, everything seemed dull and cheap.
Looking around and finding nothing to distract her, she decided on walking to Central Park to watch children play hooky. In the spring it was usually a breeding ground for pet enthusiast and Upper East Side stoners, ehem, Nate, but as she sat at the rot iron park bench, she observed the children and their nannies ice-skating and old couples huddling together for warmth and sighed.
She wanted her life back.
She missed the city, the noise, the cold, the industrial grey and lofty black. And she missed being Blair Waldorf; sociopath socialite extraordinaire.
How tired she'd grown of sitting and thinking and reflecting over that dreamlike state that may or may not have ever existed, when here- New York- was here and solid and hers for the taking.
How exhausted she'd gotten of wondering, going over every single minute detail of the last 6 months of her life and wondering what was real and what wasn't. Where she might have gone wrong? What detail she might have been misinterpreting?
Waiting.
She was so transfixed with her thoughts and watching the children at play that she did not notice the tall blonde approaching her and calling her name until she was standing right over her and flailing her hand directly in front of her blank face.
"Serena?" She finally eyed the leggy blonde, clearly not in school, who seemed to be draped in naught but a pair of boots and a coat- the white folds of a man's dress shirt peeking from underneath. "My God, Serena, do all your clothes come from the Walk of Shame Outlet?" The instant criticism flew from her mouth like a familiar and uncontrollable twitch.
Serena glanced down at her bare legs and shuttered self consciously at the cold.
It hit Blair. This was old Serena- the monster she'd created in her anger so many months ago. She felt as if she'd suddenly stepped back in time.
"What are you doing here?" Serena asked, cautiously, as if Blair were a temperamental lap dog and about to snap.
"I live here now- Anyway I was about to-" she began to rise, motioning yonder in the general direction of home. But she was cut off by Serena joining her on the bench.
"I thought it was you on Gossip Girl yesterday but I wasn't sure," Serena continued, searching her face in that dough eyed fashion of hers. "I figured you would've called or-"
Blair released a loud huff and rolled her eyes.
"…Right…I guess I deserved that…" Her blue eyes fell for moment then she sighed. "Then I guess that means you're back at Constance."
The brunet nodded and pursed her lips in that standoffish fashion of hers.
"Blair…"
"And I'm sure as long as you give me back my minions and stay out of my way, we wont have any issues," Blair said in a clipping tone.
Serena sighed and steeled herself, searching her face.
"I'm not doing this with you again, Blair?"
"What are we not doing exactly?"
"This…"
They both fell silent until Serena tried a new angle.
"I wanted to call you so badly after I found out you and Edward…"
Blair flinched at the mention of that name. It stung- still. She hardened herself for another blow.
"But I kept thinking about everything that was said between us, and I didn't know if you'd ever speak to me again."
Blair could see the direction the conversation was turning and wanted nothing more than to shut her friend up but she just kept talking- on and on- raking up all the murk she was trying to desperately to forget.
"I would just read about how sad you were getting and I wanted to talk to you and be your friend again…"
Blair cleared her through- not to interrupt her but because it was hoarse. "Why didn't you?" she asked tersely.
"I don't know… I just… I felt like it was my fault-"
"Why? Did you sleep with him, too?"
Serena's face fell.
"Yeah, sure, cause that what you think of me," Serena snapped, her voice cracking. "I'm just 'slutty Serena' who nobody respects or see's as a person. Yes, that's exactly what I did, Blair."
What the hell? This is supposed to be MY sad scene. How the hell does she manage to steal my MISERY from me?
Blair could only stare at the fairer friend in astonishment. But she retreated quickly into her deadpanned sarcasm and said, "Oh my God, you're like totally sucks," as patronizingly as only Blair could.
Serena released an exasperated snort.
"No, really. You rebounding into your scank-tastic ways because the scullery boy dumped you really makes me appreciate the fact- that I gave up my life, my friends, possibly my entire future to be with a guy who wants nothing to do with me."
They both fell silent. Only the squeals of little girls at play between them. Blair stared off, at nothing in particular- stunned at her own confession. She dared to look at Serena again only to find her sitting oddly still with quivering lips.
Blair gave a martyred sigh bend down and put her head to her hands as if suffering from nausea. "I don't know why I just said that." Her voice was slightly muffled her hands. "Everything that comes out of my mouth is so insanely fucked up these days."
Not accustomed to hearing such harsh language from her normally collected and genteel friend, S, nearly flinched.
"I should've gone to see Swartz instead of Henri," she muttered to herself, "Damn my mother and her skewed sense of priority."
Serena waved her hand in a flagging fashion and Blair sat up to find her eying her crazily. "Um, you do know I have no clue what you're talking about, right?"
"Random exclusionary monologues. A trait, I picked up, sorry, "Blair said, in an automatic tone and Serena has a weird intuitive feeling that Blair had been apologizing for strange new tendencies quite a bit these days.
"Listen, Blair-"
"So what have you been up to," Blair cut in, her voice telling S, she didn't want to go wherever S was planning on taking them.
Serena sighed and slumped into bench like a petulant child. "Honestly, nothing. School is the same as you left it except I have to see Dan everyday in the courtyard and Chuck's face everyday in my house."
"I'm sorry," Blair said, quietly and she partly meant it.
Serena shrugged and sat up again, facing Blair fully.
"So how about you, Blair. The only thing I got from Gossip Girl was something along the lines of Edward breaking up with you because his family was moving and then you stopped talking to everyone."
Blair wondered how many times she would have to listen to someone repeat that god forsaken name before she cracked and went Kerry on everyone around her. But she only shrugged dolefully and sighed out in her duly dramatic yet deadpanned voice, "No, his moving had nothing to do with it. He's an asshole, deviant, scoundrel who toys with people's hearts for his own sick pleasure and let's never speak of him again."
She said it fast so that she wouldn't have to process that information again.
Serena's expression told her she was disbelieving. "What? Edward?"
She gritted her teeth. For some impossible reason, the inarguable fact that yet another person didn't want her was going to be a hard sell for her to make to S.
"This is Edward we're talking about!"
Oh look. There it goes again. Another E-bomb.
But of course Serena didn't notice her friend's knuckles turning white as she tightened her fists
"I hardly know him and even I know how much he cares about you Blair."
Please stop talking.
"Think about it, his parent's died-" S, began to gesticulate, "He probably really hates goodbyes, Blair and breaking up with you was the easiest way for him having to move."
So sad. All that beauty and absolutely zero brains.
Serena finished her histrionic diatribe to find her friend sitting eerily still beside her. Her breathing was loud and shaky and her breath formed little white billows in front of her mouth.
"No." she said quietly at first and then again, as if trying to convince herself. "He's just not that into me," she glanced up from her wringing hands and smiled. "Never was – he just pretended to be because …I don't know, but I'm over and so done with his kind. And now… I just want my life back."
Serena blinked several times, looking stunned and not finding anything to say because, being generally prone to seeing the best in other's, she couldn't believe someone other than Chuck Bass was capable of such douche baggery.
"His kind?" she asked, finally realizing what was said in full. "…As in orphans?"
Blair's eyes widened when she realized what she'd said then answered her friend with a rousing laugh.
"Hey," Serena defended herself, smiling "You said 'his kind' like he's some other species."
At this, Blair's laugh simmered out to a sobered smile.
"Well, my next guess would have been Ginger's, thank you very much."
Her dimples deepened. "Yes, S, I definitely meant Gingers. To hell with their lot!" she proclaimed loudly, thrashing her hand in the air in diva fashion.
Serena chuckled heartily to that. "Ginger's and orphans- are officially banned from our dating list," Serena chimed officiously.
"And don't forget brooders," Blair added, pointedly.
"Ugh, of course," Serena agreed, "And judgmental guys!"
"Here! Here!" Blair shouted, amusedly aware that the park dwellers around them probably thought they were insane with all their soap-box denouncing and proclaiming. "And le bourgeoisie!"
By the time they finished with their cathartic little list, they were laughing and huddling close to each other like friendship renewed. It was almost as if their mutual hatred for 'judgey, brooders with middle class morals' had cancelled out their own tiff and there was no need for apologies.
"So basically that leaves us with, rich spoilt heirs, five divorces and a mid-life affair with the yoga instructor," Serena chuckled out.
"One can only hope," Blair sighed out wistfully then smirked in reignited contentment.
Spotted:
Some serious B S at Central park.
And that's a pair I'd thought I'd never see again. Interesting. Now that the B is definitely back, the question remains; will she be bringing the drama? We do like the new locks but don't go changing too much, B. We like our B the way we like our Cosmos; cold, shaken, and un-stirred.
AN: Hey guys, sorry I'm 3 days late. (It's close to midnight where I am). I had to make some minor changes and I wasn't going to post this until I was happy with it. Thanks for sticking with me on my month long hiatus. Like all good vamps, I had to leave you hanging to go brood.
Next Chap:
Well that's all the brooding I'm capable of. Don't expect much more brooding out of Blair. The Girl bounces back pretty quickly. And yes, the bad-assery that is Serena Noire is coming soon too!
Food for thought:
As Blair seems to be coming out of her depression and getting her old life back, what do you think it is that will make her go noire? What do you think of her 'picked up' traits? The new lighter do from season two? The chap as a whole? And of course, what did you think of the season 3 finale?
Converse! Review and I'll give you candy!
