(appropriately, all lyrics in this chapter are by Jack White)

Serena loved to wake up from her pre-party naps. Her dreams were always gorgeous. She savored waking up with the twilight's shadows draping down on her from the skylight over her bed. "A sheer gauze sari for a jeweled Hindu princess painting." What guy had told her that? She couldn't remember. Lately all of her past loves had kind of blurred together, had been forgotten. Only one guy stood out from the rest... Serena clenched her eyes shut to keep the thought from surfacing. She wouldn't waste the night thinking about Dan again. She covered her face in her hair and fell back into her nap.

(when i hear my name i want to disappear
when i hear my name i want to disappear
oh oh oh oh
when i see my face i want to disappear
when i see my face i want to disappear
oh oh oh oh)

Later she awoke to the smell of her orange-and-jasmine bath being drawn. She stretched out her cat-like limbs. Naked on top of her her Egyptian cotton sheets, and still groggy, she slid on a robe and made her way down the hallway towards the bathroom, to get ready for whatever she was doing that night.

(Lots of girls walk around in tears
but that's not for you
you've been looking all around for years
for someone to tell your troubles to)

"Add a couple shots of caffeine to the usual mix, please", S said dreamily as her family's maid finished up drawing the oils in her bath.

(Don't you think that I'm bound to react now?
My fingers definitely turning to black now
Maybe I'll put my love on ice
And teach myself, maybe that'll be nice)

When she was alone by the water, Serena grabbed the lemon slice from off the top of her water glass by the tub and bit it, sudden and hard, peel and all. She felt the pulpy, juicy grinds slide over her tongue and down her throat. Lemon was so good for cleansing. She followed the fruit with an ice cube and submerged herself in the scalding water.

For once she was watching, hearing, feeling, crying, not trying so hard to look good like she always had before, caught in this whole new net of sex. Poet's lips, marking kisses down her throat (harder, softer, gentle lips coating primal-love bite marks), she could hear the only boy who ever said "I love you" saying it over and over again, his voice swelling with passion as she felt the words beat their rhythm harder and faster and the virgin-boy she was supposedly
deflowering seemed to love the unexpected irony, as she became his, not the other way around. Grasping his chest to hers, body sobbing with spastic moans, could never stand to let go when she wanted to be as close as possible. His words worshipping every inch of her, every inch that was now his to be in rapture at the sight of, to tease until her boiling point, and then collapsed into each other, they didn't ever want to just stop, but stay forever, just hearing the sounds of their voices escaping their bodies together...

Serena shot up from under the water, gasping for breath and still quaking from the fantasies she had finally let loose in her mind. Well, now she knew why she was still thinking about Daniel! Of course, it was because they had never had sex. She had always had sex with her boyfriends, since her first time. And she had always been the seducer, the dominant one. Deflowering a guy like Dan (i.e., a virgin) would have definite appeal to a girl like S. And it would be easy! Just show up to the concert that was going on that night- who was playing again? The White Stripes? Dan was sure to show, everyone was going- she could seek him out, swallow her pride, and take him back for one single night, to get some closure. Then she could stop thinking about him...

Mystery and Daniel were in the back room of their new favorite punk venue ("It's the next CBGB!", Rusty had declared, before getting them on the list for an exclusive White Stripes pre-party warm-up show), not giving a fuck about the music but loving the base of the drums and the swells of the guitar rifts, pacing their kisses- Mystery's fast and frantic puckers, Dan's slowly dominating licks and bites- to the rhythm. Dan was used to doing this type of thing with Mystery, but something surrounded the moment that just made the whole thing seem... odd. Uncomfortable. Like a poem he might have written during his sissification-meets-sex-meets-apathy phase. It was so surreal and vaguely nightmarish, and maybe that was why he said what he did next. Maybe he just got swept up in the passion of the living poem, saying what a character would say in his situation. "I love you", he said to Mystery mid-kiss, and he was
immediately shocked by his stupidity.

(She'll send me flowers
With her tears bored inside
And you know what I'd do
I would run and hide)

He and Mystery weren't touching anymore. She was looking up at him, doe-eyed and dew-faced as always, her always vacant eyes just staring up at him. And
suddenly, he was disgusted by her. Her foolish sheer baby doll dress, her Alice in Wonderland braids, her embarrassingly personal statements... she was lying on a hospital table, naked as ever, dressed like a little girl, talking like someone about to die. She was like meat thrown on a counter about to be butchered... Nothing was private, nothing was sacred. She gave everything she had to everyone she came across.

Suddenly he couldn't stand the sight of her, she was just so pathetic. His words of affection had made her cry, like she couldn't stand giving that one last thing up, the fact that no one knew her enough to love her. Her childish misunderstanding of love was the only thing she did not show to every stranger, and now it was taken from her. Dan held her like she was a little girl, her hair covering her face, muffling here baby-like sobs, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as she covered her face in his chest. "I love you. I love you, please stop." How dare the cultural big shots see that she was like this and encourage her, make mental illness the most scintillating detail of her personae? "You are so great, Mystery, I swear I love you. But, I just can't be with you."

(To the valley below
Well its easter morning now
and there's no one around
so i unroll the cement
and walk into the town
there was no one with me
and i was all alone
and i fought piranhas
and i fought the cold
Hey little apple blossom
what seems to be the problem
all the ones you tell your troubles to
they don't really care for you)

He didn't know who he was walking to after he dropped off Mystery. The person that he had really been thinking of when he told the poor girl that he loved her. He assumed it was Vanessa. Who else would it be?

(Your breath is sweet
Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky.
Your back is straight, your hair is smooth
On the pillow where you lie.
But I don't sense affection
No gratitude or love
Your loyalty is not to me
But to the stars above.
One more cup of coffee for the road
One more cup of coffee fore I go
To the valley below.
You've never learned to read or write
There's no books upon your shelf.
And your pleasure knows no limits
Your voice is like a meadowlark
But your heart is like an ocean
Mysterious and dark
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee fore I go)

Vanessa had finished developing the photos from Dan's poetry reading. She had felt her heart wrenching itself dry of blood as she watched him with Craze, but she had stayed, just to get the perfect shots. Every picture came out wrong, a complete waste of film. She wanted to paper cut scarlings unto her heart with the glossy paper, but she threw the photographs in the incinerator instead.

(What if someone walked up to me
And like an apple cut right through me)

Serena was the only one not wearing the right colors to the concert- fuck the red, black and white theme of the band. Her lime green fishnets with a thick black wool knee-length skirt and see-through white lace top stood out like she had planned it that way. Whatever. She was too proud of her very own tag, 'Lucky Sevens by Serena', hand sewn into the high collar. She felt so illustrious now that she had her own fashion line.

Blair was walking around before the show, trying not to feel so lonely. Katie was sitting on a discarded speaker, wearing a long black skirt and white lace shirt with a high collar, and sleeves that led up to holes in her middle finger and thumb. She had cut her loose curls-and-braids hair to the shoulders when Blair had gone short. K looked beautiful with the lights on her like that, sort of exposed. A small scar on her lower back showed where her shirt hiked up (she was slouching like she always did when her friends weren't looking). Her hair looked so thin and feathery-soft, hanging down over her face when she stared at the floor. Her face was clean of make-up except for her pale lipshine.

"Hi", Blair said, sitting down next to her.

"Hello, Blair", Kate said, her slight British accent ringing in her strained yell over the music. Her voice was so pretty, how could Blair have not noticed before?

(yeah you're pretty good looking for a girl
your eyes are wide open
and your thoughts have been stolen by the boys
who took you out and bought you everything you want now
yeah you're pretty good looking…)