A/N: Hello lovely readers! As always, thank you so much for the feedback on the last chapter. It's always exciting to hear your theories as well as what you're rooting for in this story. I don't think there are enough words to express how much I appreciate it. There is still plenty to come in part three, so let's get right to it. Enjoy!

Chapter 40: Say Nothing…

Summer is ending, and as everyone knows, Paris—like the Upper East Side—empties out in August leaving behind only the tourists and the dreamers, lamenting the imminent return to real life. But until labour day hits, the last weekend getaways are in full swing. Better wear all the white you can get away with. Clock's ticking.

Evelyn's bedroom in Connecticut hadn't changed since she left almost two years ago. The lilac walls hadn't been painted over. Her white desk was clean, bare of all of the picture frames that used to cover it edge to edge. Her long windows beside both ends of her headboard still had a perfect view of the street, the only obstruction were the pine trees that had been rooted and looming since she was little. Her accordion closet door still gaped, unable to close properly, revealing all of the clothes she left behind, and never wore again. Clothes that would be unwearable at her new school

Suddenly, her room was feeling more snug than quaint. She had been visiting for three days now and Evelyn was starting to feel bored. She'd been on the nature trails twice already. She met up with Katie to go for ice cream. She read a bit. She played board games with Aunt Kim and Uncle Travis last night too.

She hadn't heard from Dash or Jenny, and Ozzy didn't have a cellphone while he was staying at the Ostroff Centre. Did she really use to live like this? She was used to having Eric around too, and there was rarely a quiet moment in the penthouse. Here, she could barely hear a car pass, and her Aunt shuffled around the house as if she were wading through water.

Evelyn found herself in the kitchen, looking through the pantry. Maybe if she ate something, it would pass the time faster.

Aunt Kim smiled when she entered in the kitchen. She did that every time she saw Evelyn that weekend.

"What's with that smile?" Evelyn said.

"Smile? I smile all the time when you're around."

Evelyn ducked her head in the pantry. The usual junk food stash had been replaced with whole oats and chia seeds.

"It's different. It's like you can't believe I'm actually here," Evelyn said.

"Well, I won't lie. That's part of it. I'm just so glad you're home. It's just like how it used to be." She hummed a tune from High Society that Evelyn remembered was her favourite movie. Anything with Bing Crosby was a favourite of her Aunt's.

Evelyn's grip on the pantry door tightened. Used to be. Her aunt's words rushed through her again. Don't let them change you.

Had she really changed? She had to have changed somewhat since she left. Being here for three days was proof of that.

"I was thinking of ordering pizza for supper tonight. Sound good?"

"Sure," Evelyn said forgoing any hope at finding something to eat in the pantry.

The doorbell rang.

Evelyn and Aunt Kim exchanged a curious glance.

"Are you expecting someone?" Evelyn asked.

Aunt Kim shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of."

Evelyn started to the door with her Aunt on her heels. She swung the door open. It was Dash.

Blair and Serena overlooked the striking white rock formations in the small town of Étretat, France. After sweating it out in the city from an unbearable heatwave, they decided to make the trek to the coast to cool off.

Serena held a camera to her face and snapped pictures. "This is unbelievable. Blair look how blue the water is!"

Even Blair had to admit the jutting coves were beautiful. Their driver took them far enough out of the town to see the many coves that curved one after the other. The town lined the sandy beach before quickly becoming dense with foliage. Behind it were farming fields that almost touched the sea.

"Come on, let's take a picture together," Serena said. She turned her camera around and angled it so there was not only a picture of the two of them, but the scenery in the background.

"Now wait here," Serena said. She took a few steps back and repositioned the camera in front of her face.

The wind started to gust and Blair had to hold her sundress down. "Shouldn't this be the other way around?"

"No way," Serena said. "You need to update your Facebook with an epic picture that will…make certain people jealous. Come on, give me that hip and pop move."

"But it's so windy!" Blair giggled.

"Come on! I'm looking for candid! Give me something mon petite bijou!"

"That move won't work with this setting," Blair said.

"How about fake laugh? Go!"

Blair laughed on cue. It was controlled, restrained, and as faint as a bell's echoing jingle. A couple tourists paused to look at her. Then, she really started laughing. An uncontrolled, uneven laugh that beat from her belly.

"This is ridiculous!"

"So is life! Give me some more!"

Blair flipped her curls over her shoulder while laughing. She then bent her knees and leaned forward on them. "But people are watching!"

"So? That's nothing new. Come on, now, you sexy beast. Show us that inner temptress we all know is hiding in her cave somewhere!"

Blair laughed and posed for what felt like ten minutes. "Come on. Now it's your turn. You need a new picture too!"

"Are we going to have matching pictures now? You never wanted that when we were little…or ever now that I think about it."

Blair rolled her eyes. "You'll at least have the option. It's your turn now."

They spent another twenty minutes taking pictures before getting back in the car and driving to the town. They stopped at a café and ordered iced coffees while they overlooked the packed beach.

"Did you ever call Jean back?" Serena asked.

Blair stirred her iced coffee. "I didn't get to it."

"Blair!"

"What? Things are different now, Serena. I'm not settling for your seconds."

"Um, actually, you were his first choice, which I humbly accept and am okay with, so thank you for the concern."

Blair leaned back in her chair. "I'm just not ready Serena. We're leaving in a couple days anyway."

"Exactly! He's perfect tissue material. In fact, he's not just a tissue, he's a Parisian handkerchief."

Blair sipped her coffee.

"Come on, B. I know this summer has been rocky at times, but you have to try to move on for your own sake. When else are you going to have this opportunity once school starts again, and you apply for an internship next summer, and then suddenly you're in law school and you wish you could go back to the carefree days of this summer in Paris?"

Blair sighed. "Alright, alright. I'll do it!"

Serena squealed. "You'll thank me, B."

Blair picked up her phone and dialled Jean's number. With each progressive ring, she prayed he wouldn't pick up.

"Oui, allo?"

"Jean? C'est Blair. Ç va?"

She heard something crash in the background. "Blair! I thought I wouldn't hear from you again."

"Did something happen? I heard a crash."

"Oh, no. Just some books fell from my desk. Are you still in Paris?"

"Oui. I will be here for a couple more days, and I was wondering if you had any recommendations on the best restaurants I may have missed."

"I could think of a few."

"Would you like to show me one tonight?"

"Eh…yes. I-I can do that. Should I pick you up at, ah let's see. Eight?"

"Eight works. See you then."

"A plus!"

Blair set her phone face down. "There. Happy?"

Serena clapped her hands. "Proud. You know, one day, you'll actually thank me for the things I do for you Blair."

"Well don't expect that to start today." Her serious face was soon betrayed by a grin. The girls looked at each other and laughed.

Spotted: B & S in Etretat for the day. While the rest of us sweat it out on the sultry streets of New York, our favourite princesses make vacationing look easy.

Bart was sick of the Hamptons. He was tired of the social dinners, bike rides, and walks on the beach. He missed the hustle and bustle of the city. He missed watching the stock market every day, going to business meetings, working on the next new development for Bass Industries…all of it. What he missed most was being in his office before his schedule started, passing all of the employees at Bass Industries.

That was no longer his life. Bart knew he had to accept that. He would find work elsewhere in another corporate environment. He was well connected in New York. It would happen.

Bart sipped his coffee on the back patio of the estate. In the distance, he could see the waves lapping the shores. A dog ran across, searching for a thrown stick.

His phone rang.

"Hey Bart. It's Philip. Still in the Hamptons?"

"Until next week. Why?"

"That's what I thought. You see, I was just weeding through my emails, and I saw that Bass Industries is hosting an event tomorrow."

"Event?"

"A relaunch. Your brother's rebranding project will be introduced to the public. I think he is going to announce that the company is also going public on the stock exchange."

Bart's grip tightened. "Where?"

"At the Palace. Seven o'clock."

"Thanks for telling me Philip. I'll be there."

Lily took a seat across from him. She took off her reading glasses. "What was that about?"

"We're going to have to send our, uh, regrets to the Clairmonts. We won't be able to attend the White Party tomorrow."

"Why?"

"It appears my brother is going to make a public announcement regarding Bass Industries."

"And he didn't tell you?"

"I have a feeling he wants to do this on his own."

"I see. I'll call Mary before lunch."

Bart logged onto his Blackberry's web browser and searched for any news regarding Bass Industries. Sure enough, there was a New York Financial Times article that anticipated an announcement from new CEO Jack Bass.

His brother always did like to take what was his and try to repurpose it for his own needs. He had no idea what rebranding strategy he would take with Bass Industries. It was perfectly fine as is, as far as Bart was concerned.

But he wouldn't turn a blind eye and stay in the Hamptons this weekend as Jack's plan unfolded. He was determined to find out.

Chuck was already over Paris a day after he and Nate had arrived. It was sweltering, there were tourists everywhere, and all of the drivers were incredibly rude. Paris may have been a top ten destination for most people, but if you asked Chuck today, it certainly wouldn't be one of them.

"Cheer up, man," Nate said as they walked on the Champs-Elyseé. "We could always go to the red-light district?"

It was a tempting offer, but he preferred the red-light district in Amsterdam. Besides, prostitution was illegal here, and he wasn't in the mood to go to jail. He had too many other things on his mind. And his father told him to stay out of trouble. He would never worry about such a thing before, but things were different now. One toe out of line could mean disaster for their family.

The sun was setting, and all Chuck could do was find Blair. "Tempting, but I need to stay focused, Nathaniel."

Chuck pulled out his phone and started typing.

"What now?"

"I'm calling my P.I."

"Why?"

"To find Blair's whereabouts of course. I already had him do some preliminary research."

"Or you could just call and ask Serena?"

That was an option too. "She's on Blair's side, though right? She will tell me to go away."

"Maybe, but she may say something different if I call. Hold on."

Nate dialled and held the phone up to his ear. His mouth grew into a smile and he began walking away as he spoke to Serena.

Chuck grimaced. Of course, Nate would think it would be this easy. Some simplistic mind he has.

Nate returned while pocketing his phone. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"To Blair and Serena's apartment."

Spotted: C & N on the Champs-Élysées, walking the same paths as B & S. How long do you think it'll take before these four besties cross paths? We hope it happens soon, and that someone is around to film it. It could be a battle of the ages.

Ozzy had never written so much in his life. Ever since his last session with Dr. Albright, he stayed cooped up in his room and wrote. He wrote what he could remember from the beginning of his life in New Jersey. He wrote about his mom and her long list of men. He wrote a bit about Thom and Catherine and even Dash. He wrote so much, his hand throbbed, and his elbow was sore.

But he couldn't stop. Once he started, the words flowed out of him like a fountain. He didn't know where it was coming from, but he couldn't make it stop. He didn't want to make the words stop.

He brought his journal everywhere he went. He barely spoke with anyone other than an acknowledgement and a nod. When he ate dinner in the cafetorium, he brought his book and scribbled, making it clear to the others that he wasn't to be disturbed.

He didn't expect to like it as much as he did. In school, writing always felt like a chore. He wrote about subjects he didn't particularly care about and would be judged for it. Now, what he wrote was for himself. He never wanted anyone to ever see it. It's the only place where he could be honest without shame, and there was a priviness he wanted to keep to himself.

Dr. Albright spent the first fifteen minutes of their session watching him write. When she entered the room, at first, he asked for five minutes to finish a thought, and then he kept going.

Ozzy finished his sentence and put his pen down. He looked at the clock and frowned. "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

"I wouldn't call it wasting," Dr. Albright said. "It looks like you've filled out half of that notebook this weekend."

Ozzy fanned the pages, amazed at the blue ink that filled each page. "I couldn't stop."

"That's good. Did you discover anything?"

He shut the book and held it in his lap. Did he? He dug up memories, good and bad, feelings he'd felt about those who came in and out through his life. He was still trying to put the whole picture together.

"I don't know…I didn't realize how many men were in my mom's life?"

Dr. Albright nodded. She did that thing where she didn't ask a question, and let the silence hang in the air until Ozzy filled it.

"I think there were what? Six? Eight?"

"How did you feel when you wrote about it?"

"I don't know…annoyed, I guess. Only two were serious."

"Who were they?"

Ozzy looked down at the notebook and spun his pen around. "They're not important."

"Are you sure? If it was a serious relationship, then that would be significant wouldn't it?"

"For my mom, I guess."

"Who were they, Ozzy?"

"The first one's name was Jeremiah Bolton and the other was Pat Buchanan."

"When did you meet them?"

"Jeremiah was when we were in LA, I was in grade school, and Buchanan was when we were in Houston when I was in eighth grade."

"What do you remember about them?"

"Jeremiah was nice, but too nice, you know? I think he was compensating for the fact that I didn't like him. He was, what, the fourth guy? I knew the drill by then."

"And Mr. Buchanan?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Dr. Albright studied him and said in a careful tone, "Have you written about him at all?"

"No." The word came out harshly, uncontrolled.

"Why?"

"Because…"

He refused to lean into the silence Dr. Albright gave him in that moment. He turned his gaze to the windows.

"Ozzy," Dr. Albright said carefully. "Why won't you write about him?"

"I don't want to."

"Have you spoken to your mom about him since you moved?"

"No," Ozzy said quickly.

"Maybe that would be…an important thing to do."

Ozzy crossed his arms over his chest. He knew without speaking a word, he was telling Jane everything. He was telling her that this had to be the reason that everything started to spiral. He was telling her that his mom didn't know. He was telling her that this man who was almost his step father was someone he refused to acknowledge.

"Don't give up now, Ozzy," Jane said. "We've worked through so much already."

His hands, tucked under the crooks of his elbows curled into fists. He didn't want to give up, he really didn't, but it was too difficult to go back there. To talk about him would mean he had to validate that that man had power over him. It would mean he had to validate his being meant something, and all Ozzy wanted to feel about that guy was nothing.

"I'll try."

He wouldn't promise anything more. He didn't want to disappoint her like had disappointed so many other people before her. Most of all, he didn't want to disappoint himself.

"Dash?" Evelyn said after a few beats of silence. "Wait…What are you doing here?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I came from the airport. I just got back from Korea."

"Welcome home Dash," Aunt Kim said. "Come on in."

Evelyn stepped back to give Dash enough space to step inside their home. Her first home. Evelyn blinked, and turned her head to her Aunt and then to Dash.

"Were you in on this?" Evelyn asked Aunt Kim.

She shrugged. "Perhaps."

"I can't believe you two!" Evelyn put her hands on her hips. "You both kept this from me?"

Dash's eyes fell to the floor.

"That is how a surprise works, dear," Aunt Kim chuckled. "Are you hungry Dash?"

He drew his gaze up again. "I could eat. I slept through the last meal on the plane. It was chicken or beef. Again."

"How does a pizza sound?"

"That sounds amazing. I haven't had one all summer!" Dash said.

"Excellent. What do you like on your pizza?"

"Anything but anchovies."

"Deluxe it is. Evelyn, why don't you show Dash around?"

When she saw Dash in front of her, it finally sunk in that he was back for good. She smiled and threw her arms around him. "I can't believe you're here," she said into his neck.

"Believe it," Dash said. He began to nuzzle her neck. Evelyn leaned into him, smelling him despite the fact that he'd been in an airplane for twenty hours. She didn't care.

Aunt Kim hung up the phone behind them. Dash jumped away from Evelyn. He scratched the back of his neck. "About that tour?"

"Right. Tour." She smiled and opened her arms in a sun salutation. "Welcome to my first home. Just up ahead is the kitchen. We can stop to get a drink if you like?"

Dash took in the quaint kitchen. "I'm good for now."

"That's the dining room, and if we continue around the corner, there is the bathroom. Do you need to use it?"

"Already did."

"Then I guess I'll show you upstairs…" she said quietly. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of Dash in her room. It was her childhood room, sure, but it had been a long summer. She thought of Dash often. She thought about what could have happened the night she went to look for Ozzy. Emotions ran so high that night, that she couldn't clearly understand what she wanted. She wasn't ready then.

Now things were different. She felt differently.

Evelyn's room was the first door on the right. "I think we'll be making a bit of a pitstop here."

She opened the door for Dash and closed it behind her as quietly as she could. She knew she wasn't allowed to have the door closed, so she left the door slightly ajar. It was risky, but she'd rather hear her Aunt coming than being caught.

Dash's back was to her when he looked around the room. It wasn't anything special for Upper East Side standards. It was underwhelming at best.

"What do you think?"

"It's homey. You must have a lot of good memories here."

"I do. But I now have them in New York too." She snaked her arms around his waist. "Now how about a not so proper welcome?"

He turned and really looked at her for the first time. Evelyn cupped his cheeks and kissed him. It was a routine they now knew well. Evelyn welcomed his tongue in her mouth, relished the feel of him as she ran her hands all over him. She stepped forward once and then twice until Dash's calves hit the foot of her bed.

He sat down, his chest heaving. "Now that's a welcome."

"We're not done yet," Evelyn said. She threaded her fingers through his hair that had grown over his ears. He pulled her to rest on his lap.

"I don't mean to ruin the moment here, but your Aunt…"

"I'll take my chances."

Dash fell on his back and Evelyn fell on top of him. They both laughed and readjusted themselves. When Evelyn leaned over him, her long hair fell around their faces like a curtain.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," Dash said. There was an insistence in his expression that she'd never seen before.

"I'm sure you're about to show me," Evelyn said. She leaned in for another kiss. Dash cupped the back of her head and kissed her back emphatically, exploring her mouth with a depth she'd never experienced. She squealed and broke the kiss for air.

"I'm sorry did I—"

"No," Evelyn said. "I just wasn't expecting…that."

"Well did you like it?" He smirked.

She rolled her eyes. "Here we go."

Dash rolled so now he was on top of her. "Still a tease."

"Still arrogant."

"Your point?"

"What's yours?"

They looked into each other's eyes with no interruption. Evelyn noticed that tiny freckles had formed on his cheeks. She noticed how she felt in that moment. Comfortable. Intimate. Warm. She didn't want it to end. Whatever this feeling was, she wanted to capture it, and live in it forever.

"Dash?"

"Mmmh?"

"I love you. Just so you know."

He chuckled. "Just so I know?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean! I didn't say it back to you a few months ago, and I couldn't face the truth then. I do love you too."

He didn't look happy or secretly pleased like Evelyn thought he would. He couldn't look at her for a moment. He looked troubled.

"Dash? Is everything okay?"

"Uh yeah...I just…didn't expect that… and the jetlag…"

Evelyn captured her lips with his. She felt under his shirt. Felt the skin of his back. Felt the skin beneath his belt. She wanted to feel every part of him. She was scared of that before, but now she didn't want to stop. She wanted it all.

"Evelyn! Dash! Pizza's here!"

Dash bolted up and Evelyn covered her mouth to contain her laughter.

"We're coming!"

She wouldn't admit it to Dash now, but she had many day dreams that saw that happen. Repeatedly.

Once Blair and Serena returned to their apartment, Blair immediately began getting ready. She showered, dried her hair and now sat in front of her makeup table in a fluffy white robe. Blair brushed the inner lid of her eye carefully when her phone rang.

Blair peaked at the caller display. It was Joy. She pressed the speaker button and continued to brush smooth strokes around the crease of her eye.

"Blair speaking."

"Good morning—or actually, good evening to you Blair," Joy said with a yawn.

"Did you just wake up?"

"Yeah. I had to get up early to pack."

Joy was slated to return to the city just before Blair would return. Her family insisted on driving across the country again with a U-Haul full of her things.

"How's Simon?"

"He's good. Busy packing himself. The next time I'll see him is when we're both back in the city."

"And you were worried long distance couldn't work."

"We aren't too far from each other. Only a five-hour drive, which isn't too bad considering how big this country is. He says hello. What are you up to now?"

"I'm getting ready to go out for dinner," Blair said.

"With whom?"

Blair sighed. Joy always did know how to ask the right nosy question. "This guy name Jean."

"Jean? How exotic."

Blair rolled her eyes. "It's not a big deal. I'm only going because Serena forced me."

"Let me guess. He's going to take you to a very fancy restaurant in the heart of Paris?"

Blair picked up her blending brush and drew circles on both eyelids. "It's likely."

"Sounds like a hardship."

"It's not a big deal or anything. We're leaving in a couple days anyway."

"Still. Sounds romantic. Ideal."

Blair set down the brush and picked up her liquid liner. "While Paris is beautiful, it's romantic for those that are you know, actually in relationships."

"There's nothing wrong with being single. Not going to lie, I kind of miss having some alone time every now and then. Now it's calling Simon after work, texting him in the morning, always having him on my mind when we're together and apart. Relationships take a lot of work."

"That's why I was so good at them."

"Have you ever been single, Blair?"

Blair blinked her eyes to check that her eyeliner was even. "Of course."

"For how long?"

Blair paused. She had been with Nate since the beginning of high school. They broke up in junior year, got back together after she was with Chuck…then Chuck ditched her in Tuscany…then the rest of the year was spent in courtship before being in a relationship with Chuck for the past year.

"Practically all of senior year."

"Chuck was not on your radar at all?"

"There was some distance at times."

"Oh Blair," Joy chuckled. "Just because you go on this one date, doesn't mean this is going to be this huge, epic love story."

Blair opened her tube of mascara and began dolloping her lashes. "What are trying to imply?"

"I wouldn't worry about this date. In fact, knowing that you're leaving in a couple days is good. There's no pressure, no strings attached, just you getting to know someone that you wouldn't if you were in New York. Not all relationships have to lead to something and be super serious all the time."

"Did you corroborate with Serena on this?"

"We didn't. I'll swear to it. Just go in with an open mind, and just enjoy the fact that you're single and you can do this. Heck, I wish I could do that!"

"I know I can do it. I just didn't want to. I didn't think there would be anyone after Chuck. Now, I'm scared if I was wrong. If the life that I thought I had planned out won't happen."

"I understand," Joy said. "But why can't the life you have planned out go on without him? You don't need him to make your dreams happen Blair. Chuck, or anyone else, is a nice companion to have on the journey."

Blair twisted her mascara wand into the tube tightly. "You're…right."

"Really? Should I go write this down in my diary?"

Blair hated to admit it, but Joy had a point. Did she begin to depend on Chuck too much? She didn't need him for her life to go on. Blair knew with her hard work and determination that her life would go on. The fear lingered in not knowing what was in her future. The uncertainty was her greatest fear.

Blair looked into her mirror where a picture of Audrey Hepburn hung above her head, with a pipe in her hand, in her signature little black dress. There was never a photo or painting of her with someone else. She was always captured alone. Audrey didn't need any man to make her life go on, so why should Blair? All her life she looked up to figures like Audrey, and it was time for her not just to admire them but walk in their footsteps.

Bart and Lily arrived at the Bass brand relaunch to see a new a room of familiar faces. When a new pair of eyes landed on Bart, they widened, surprised to see him there. He greeted everyone he passed, asked specific questions about their lives, and moved through the room.

With each face he met, he was waiting to see his brother's. This was his event after all. But he was nowhere to be found. Yet.

The room was decorated in shades of grey. Everything was sleek, modern. The Bass Logo had changed from the towers with the word BASS underneath it, to BASS INC, in a simple type, thin lines, exaggerated shape.

"This is…different," Lily said as she watched women in low cut mini cocktail dresses parade with silver trays of hor d'oeuvres.

Bart's lips formed a thin line. Different was the polite way of putting it. The only thing missing on the waitresses were a pair of bunny ears and tail. What was his brother thinking?

There was a stage with a clear glass podium. Behind it, the white wall provided an endless screen with the graphics of the new logo and note that CEO Jack Bass would be making a speech.

Bart also noticed that the waitresses came and went through a room off to the side that was guarded by a bouncer. Bart was about to inquire what was behind that door until Lily put her hand on his forearm.

"Shall we get a drink?"

"I think we'll need it."

Lily squeezed his arm, and they went to the bar.

"Bart!"

Philip started toward him and greeted Lily warmly. "Glad you could make it," He said to Bart.

"I was thinking the same thing. That is until I saw all of this."

"Tell me about it," Philip sighed. "The board members are uneasy. They think the new branding is unnecessary."

Given that Bass Industries was a lucrative company that continued to grow, it did seem unnecessary. Yet, since Jack was starting as the new CEO, he knew it was necessary for him to make his mark on Bass Industries or now Inc., immediately.

They held their drinks and moved away from the bar as Philip filled Bart and Lily in on what had been going on at Bass Inc. With the rebranding efforts, Jack led a new initiative to change the corporate statement, mission, and objective of Bass Industries.

"He wants to focus on luxury branding, which is fine, but he wants to add more entertainment to the hotels. He was probably inspired by Victrola, but he wants each hotel to have a theme, an escapist homage depending on the local lore."

It wasn't a bad idea, but Bart wondered if it was necessary. Opening bars and clubs was a much different business than hospitality and property management. What experience did he have in either of those?

"What do you think about the new direction?" Bart asked.

Philip looked thoughtful. "It's hard to say. I think he's looking to open speakeasys in the Manhattan hotels, so that's a type of club, but clubs are a whole different ball game. It could be successful, but the permits and cost to get them going are high. I think he wants to make the brand fresher in his eyes, risqué, alluring even."

Just then, an emcee called for everyone's attention. "Thank you everyone for attending this important milestone for Bass Industries. For the past twenty years, Bass Industries has grown to become a global empire."

He paused as the room erupted in applause.

"Now, we are looking forward for the future of Bass Industries and what lies in the next twenty years. Ready to guide us down that path is our CEO, Jack Bass. Please help give him a round of applause."

While everyone clapped around him, Bart kept one hand holding his drink, the other in his pocket.

His brother rose to the stage, smiling and waving to the audience. He shook Oliver Girrard's hand and waited for the applause to die down. "Thank you Oliver for that wonderful introduction. Good evening everyone, and thank you for coming. As Oliver mentioned, tonight is a special night. It is a time for a new beginning, and I am honoured to lead the way with all of you to the bright future for Bass Industries. At Bass Industries, we aim to bring our luxury hotel brand to the next level…"

Bart listened as Jack reiterated what Philip had to just told him. He emphasized how good it would be to have more entertainment to make each hotel and cultural hot spot. He went into detail on the things that fascinated him, he glossed over the particulars of the important details. It was all a show, an effort to take his success and make it his own.

"I look forward to sharing this vision with each and every shareholder of this company, as Bass Industries prepares to be a publicly traded company…"

He explained how it would work in stages, how the transition would be smooth, but Bart knew from precedent. There were many bumps in the road before a publicly traded company found its stride, and even then it was difficult to maintain stability through each quarter.

Bart toasted to Bass Industries future and welcomed everyone to have a great evening. Everyone clapped again, but the clap wasn't as strong as when he walked out on stage. And then, on cue, everyone began whispering.

"I can't wait to read what the Post thinks about this tomorrow," Philip said with his gaze fixed on the photographers and journalists who followed Jack to get a statement.

Bart didn't care what the Post thought. But he did care how quickly he was forgotten. In the speech, there was no mention of his contributions over the twenty years. It was as if his work meant nothing. He doubted that would be in the newspaper stories tomorrow. Instead, it would be all about his brother, his new changes, the opinions on if Bass Industries could thrive on the NASDAQ. It was all about the future, and he, like the past, was nothing but a shadow.

"I'm not waiting to find out," Bart said while following the reporters and his brother to the closed off room that was guarded by the bouncer.

Jean picked Blair up a few minutes before eight. The evening air was cooler, a promise that fall was on its way.

When Blair slid into the passenger seat, Jean looked at her appraisingly. "Vous êtes belle."

"Merci," Blair said.

Jean was dressed in cropped navy pants and a crisp white button-down shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. His cologne was spicy, pungent in the small confines of his Peugeot.

They made small talk in the car. She asked about his week. He told her he worked part-time at his father's law office.

"It's nothing special really," He said. "I sort through mail, take coffee orders and notes."

"It's something," Blair said. She was beginning to wonder if she had wasted her summer waltzing across Paris. She too could have worked on getting experience on her resume. Her parents were well connected, she too should have considered working in a law firm.

"Do you want to study law?" Blair asked.

"I'm not sure yet. It would be convenient. I could take over my dad's business too, but I'm not sure if I want to. What do you study?"

"Law," Blair said.

Jean chuckled.

"I haven't declared it as my major yet, but I will this fall," Blair said. "I think."

Blair was usually so sure about these matters. She'd been dreaming of being a lawyer since she was in the sixth grade. How could one not be sure about these matters?

"It seems we have that in common too. Art. Law."

"It just means you have good taste," Blair said.

Jean chuckled again.

They arrived at a cozy restaurant called Sacred Flower. It was further out from where Blair was staying in a neighbourhood she hadn't explored. The restaurant wasn't on the most impressive street. It looked quaint from the outside, and she couldn't see another tourist around her.

"I assume you haven't made it out to this neighbourhood?" Jean said.

Blair shook her head. "It's…quaint."

"I know it's not up to your standards, but I think you'll really like this place."

Jean had made a reservation, and once they walked into the restaurant, Blair was glad. Each table was occupied, and there was a long line of waiting people that spilled onto the streets.

The menu was sparse, and the wine list extensive. The room was loud, but not loud enough so Blair couldn't hear Jean.

Blair looked up from her menu and really looked at Jean for the first time. His brows furrowed together as he studied his menu meticulously. There was a sureness about him that Blair liked. He was cultured. Mature. Very well dressed, which was something she found was disappointing in New York at times.

She could hear Joy's words in her head. This is just a date. It's not a big deal.

Blair couldn't stop herself. They had lots in common. They would both (probably) be lawyers. How much money did his father have?

The questions continued as she looked at him. He had a defined jawline that was cleanly shaved. His dark hair spilled over his forehead while his lips formed a thin line.

"See something you like?" Jean said.

Blair darted her eyes back to her menu. "There are so many options. What would you recommend?"

"Everything is excellent. It depends on what you feel like eating. Beef, pork, fish?"

Blair usually chose fish. It was a lighter option, but she found herself eyeing the duck. She couldn't remember the last time she had that.

The waiter took their orders and gave suggestions for which wines would best pair with their meal. Jean order foie gras with a shallot compote to start, and Blair ordered the duck while Jean ordered Filet de beouf.

Once the menus were taken away, Blair folded her hands in her lap. They started to talk about law, but it soon turned into a discussion of their friends. Jean was surrounded not just with Bastien, whom Blair met on their first double date, but others from childhood, from his fencing team, and now in university. He spoke with each friend with such ease. Blair knew she didn't have as many friends to compare, but she was proud to talk about Serena and Joy.

She didn't think of Chuck in that moment. He certainly wasn't a friend. She didn't think of him for that whole afternoon. As the conversation continued to shift to family, she was so absorbed in their conversation that their appetizer came and then mains were rude interruptions.

Blair regaled the story of when she and Serena stole her mother's designs from a photoshoot. Jean laughed at all the best parts of the story, and Blair was laughing herself.

"That was definitely one of the craziest things I did if you asked my mother."

"It doesn't beat the time Bastien and I thought it would be a good idea to break into my dad's most expensive liquor cabinet and drink all of it by sunrise. I think that's the closest I've ever been to dying."

"You haven't seen anything until you've seen my mom's signature meltdowns," Blair said.

"My mom has had her moments too. She's in fashion too you know. I bet our mothers have probably met once or twice."

"Really?" Blair said.

"She's one of the editors of Vogue."

Blair's eyes widened. "French Vogue?"

"Is there another version?"

"Your mom works for Vogue?"

"Why do you think I dress as well as I do? It's not because of my good taste."

Blair was thrown with this new information. Jean kept getting more and more interesting as the dinner went on. She was really going to need to give Serena the best gift ever. Throw in a set of baking supplies for Joy too.

Was it Blair, or was Jean becoming more and more attractive? Blair was the first to suggest a dessert menu when their plates were cleared, something she usually pushed away. They debated and exchanged their favourite painters, discussed their favourite films, and talked until the restaurant was closing.

"I can't believe it's eleven already," Blair said.

"What is that saying you Americans say? Time flies when you do fun?"

"When we have fun."

A faint blush crawled up his neck. "Oh, my mistake."

Blair smiled. "Don't apologize. It was a small mistake."

Jean paid the check and the lingered outside his car. He looked unsure of what to do next. Fortunately, this wasn't her first date. It probably wouldn't be her last. But for the first time, she didn't want it to end. Not now. Not with the knowledge that she had to leave in a couple days.

"We've been sitting for so long, I feel stiff. Maybe we could go for a walk?" Blair suggested.

Jean nodded eagerly. "We can take a walk along the Bassin de la Villette? Have you been?"

Blair shook her head. "What's it like?"

"It's more artsy, less touristy. There's usually lots of music, boat bars, and depending on the day they show movies nearby."

"Sounds intriguing. How far is it?"

"About ten minutes if we drive."

Blair squeezed his hand. "Let's go."

Oh la la, is that B we see on a date? Sometimes the best connections are surprising connections. Too bad B has to come back to us soon…or will she stay behind?

Ozzy's mom picked him up for dinner that evening. After his tense session with Dr. Albright, he returned to his room and wrote until he fell asleep. He woke to his mom's gentle touch, his hand cramped, and pages creased under him.

He would sleep at the house that night. Ozzy suspected it was a test to see how he would react to returning home. Since school was starting in a few days, he wondered if everything would fall back to normal, as if nothing happened that summer. Would anyone know that he was at the Ostroff Centre? He checked Gossip Girl twice that summer, and there was no mention of him both times. He didn't know how he would feel if people knew. Those that he was close to knew the situation, but would it be an issue if everyone else knew?

It was just him and his mom for dinner. Philip was at a Bass Industries launch event, or something like that, he didn't know the fine details, and Dash had landed at La Guardia airport a few hours ago.

"Shouldn't Dash be home by now?"

"He called and said he was going to be here this evening," His mom said.

"Why didn't he just come here?"

His mom set up their dinner slowly and methodically. "He wanted to see Evelyn as soon as he landed, so he took the car to Connecticut in the neighbourhood we used to live."

He was familiar. He'd been to her house a handful of times. He remembered the front porch the best, with its creaking porch swing. Good memories.

"I remember," was all he could say. He wasn't thrilled that Dash was there, that had felt like a space that only he had access to, but it wasn't for him to decide. It still slightly annoyed him.

His mom didn't say much else other than the flight was good, but long. It didn't take long for her questions to be directed at him.

"How was your day?"

"Okay," Ozzy said. He brought his journal with him.

"You've been writing quite a bit," His mom noted.

"It's been helping."

She grinned, her shoulders resting with relief for once. "Good. That's good to hear."

They ate in relative silence. They talked about menial topics like Bart Bass's brunch which didn't seem like it was happening this year. They talked about school, Dash even.

Ozzy could hear Dr. Albright's voice urging him to ask his mom about Pat Buchanan. He knew he had to, but he didn't want to go back there.

Ozzy interrupted his mom mid-sentence and said, "Mom, can I ask you something?"

At first, she looked puzzled, her brows furrowing. "Of course."

"Um…what did you see in Pat Buchanan?"

She looked taken aback. It was a name she hadn't spoken of in years. "Pat Buchanan? Wow, that's a few years back now isn't it? Why?"

"It came up in counselling today. Dr. Albright said I should ask you about him."

"What do you want to know? You remember him, don't you?"

"Of course. I just want to know what you saw in him."

"Well, his family has a very good reputation on the Upper East Side. He was charming, had strong values, and he was well established."

He remembered. He was an executive at some oil company. Business was handed down to him by his father. Seemed larger than life. Even he was convinced when he first met him that he actually might be good.

"Why did that come up in counselling if you don't mind me asking?"

"I started talking about how I felt about all the guys you dated…and while I didn't really like any of them, he was by far the worst."

Her brows knitted together. "I thought you two got along?"

He didn't answer. She just gave him what he was looking for. She didn't know. His mom didn't know anything as to what happened that year. She was off in the clouds, or was probably looking for something frivolous.

"If something happened, you can tell me. I would want to know."

"Nothing happened," Ozzy said. "He was just a jerk. They all are."

"Ozzy. That's not fair."

What did fairness have to do with it? These men came and went without warning. A couple left at the sight of him. Why was that? He was baggage of course, but when they saw him, there was something else that they saw, something that made him less than a child.

"It's how I feel," Ozzy said. "Dr. Albright says I should try to be more open with my feelings. That's it."

His mom turned her attention back to her plate and kept carving her chicken, sawing it really.

"What else did she tell you?"

"Not too much. I have to do most of the talking."

"I don't know what you think of me, but I didn't bring those men into your life for just me. I was trying to also find someone who would be a good father figure for you."

Ozzy had a retort ready in his mouth, but he knew better than to throw an insult then. "Why didn't you just go back to my actual father?"

"It wasn't that simple."

"I thought I was going to see him this summer."

"That was the plan, but something happened unexpectedly."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing for you to worry about. Your father's fine. He will come for a visit soon."

He would be naïve if he believed her. He'd been naïve of many things. But most of all, he was afraid of facing the truth.

While Chuck and Nate waited for Serena to answer the buzzer, Chuck noted that the girls were staying in a nice neighbourhood. It was authentically Parisian with the bakeries and cafes on the rounded corners, and each floor above having a balcony. Serena buzzed them up and they took the elevator up to the penthouse floor. Serena waited by the door and greeted them.

"Sis," Chuck said, offering a hug.

"Chuck," Serena said returning his hug stiffly. She was being loyal to Blair.

They stepped into the apartment that was remarkably quiet.

"Where's Blair?" Chuck asked as he stepped into the living room.

"She's out."

"Out where?"

Serena folded her arms across her chest. "On a date."

Chuck scoffed. "Really?"

He hadn't seen any spotting's of Blair being out with any guys all summer on Gossip Girl. Nor did Nate mention anything. It had to be a ruse.

"I'm serious Chuck. I haven't heard from her since she told me they arrived at the restaurant, so things must be going well."

Chuck checked the kitchen and bedrooms. No Blair.

"Fine. Don't believe me," Serena said from the kitchen. She offered Nate a beer and without asking, handed him a glass of scotch.

"Who is she out with?"

"Jean," Serena said with an exaggerated French accent.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

Serena checked her phone and said, "See for yourself."

It was a Gossip Girl blast, sent moments ago. Blair was spotted getting into a car with Jean. Chuck handed Serena her phone back. He took a seat on the couch and sipped his drink.

Nate was scrolling through Gossip Girl himself in that moment. "That's a bummer," He said.

"I'll wait," Chuck said.

Nate and Serena exchanged a look.

"I'll wait for her to come back. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"That's none of your concern," Chuck said.

Nate's head was caught snapping back and forth between them. He took another drink.

"It is my concern if you're here to toy with Blair again."

"I'm not toying with her Serena. This isn't kindergarten."

"Either you trust her or you don't," Serena said. "This on and off nonsense needs to stop."

"And what about your nonsense with Carter Baizen?"

"That's over. For good," Serena turned for the kitchen.

"Did you two figure out what happened in Santorini?"

Serena shot him a look. "How did you know about that?"

"Lucky guess," Chuck said.

"Whatever happened in Santorini happened. It's over. He's out of my life for good. And whatever happened in Santorini led to nothing."

"Good. You know I loathe the guy, and I think you're better off without him."

Chuck checked his watch. It was almost eleven thirty.

"Shouldn't this date be over soon?"

Serena shrugged.

"Well can you text her to see how it's going?" Chuck said.

"No! I'm not interrupting. Besides, she probably won't even look at it anyway."

Chuck took another drink. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted to say to Blair. He thought he did on the way to Paris. He thought he knew for the past month, but what else was there to say other than a goodbye? He didn't want to do that.

He finished his drink and Serena was ready to refill his glass.

After dinner, Evelyn and Dash went for a walk. A nature path began just down the street from Aunt Kim's house, a path that Evelyn used to bike on when she was a child, a path that she walked on as an adolescent when she needed to think. Now, she walked hand in hand with Dash, showing him the bridge over the small stream, the rocks she would sit on, all of it.

It felt odd to have Dash with her in Connecticut. It felt like cutting up a picture and gluing it in an old scrapbook. Like the picture, Dash didn't belong, no matter how hard he tried.

Evelyn asked about the flight and about Korea. She had kept up to date with his work and weekend travels, but it was nice to hear him regale his tales without having a screen glitch.

"I brought you something."

He reached into his pocket and produced a hello kitty polaroid camera. "They're all the rage in Korea right now, and you always say how you wish you could capture moments, and now you can to put up on your bulletin board."

She was always awful at taking pictures. It wasn't something she thought to do. "Thank you, Dash." She inspected it, opening the lens. "This is so cool! My Aunt has a bunch of polaroids from back in the day."

Evelyn threw her arms around him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. There's more in my suitcase, but I wanted to keep this on me in the case that my suitcase got lost."

"Let's use it then!"

Evelyn turned the camera lens to face them. Her arm wobbled as she tried to adjust her grip on the camera.

"Let me help," Dash said.

He took the camera and was able to reach for the button to take the picture. Evelyn checked to make sure they had the best scenery behind them and wrapped her arm around Dash's waist. The camera flashed and Evelyn took the photo. She waved it four times, waiting for the exposure. It still looked blank.

"Let's take another one," Evelyn said. They posed again and this time Evelyn turned and kissed Dash's cheek at the last minute.

The first photo had set. They were both smiling with their arms around each other. It would be a fresh addition to her bulletin board in New York.

"Here, take this one." Evelyn handed Dash the second photo. "So you can have one too."

Dash looked at the photo and smiled. "Thanks."

Evelyn slung the camera around her neck and they continued walking. Their hands found each other again, and they walked in silence for a couple more moments.

"How's Ozzy doing?" Dash asked.

"Okay, I think," Evelyn said. "It's been hard, but I think he's trying to get better. It's all up to him right? If he doesn't want to, then nothing will happen."

"Right," Dash said. "I'll go see him tomorrow, but I wanted to have a heads up if there was anything I should avoid."

"I think he'll just be happy to see you."

"I don't know about that," Dash said. "I wasn't the most sympathetic the night he ran away."

"We wrote the SATs, dealt with Jenny's fiasco, and finished up the night with that incident. We all weren't thinking clearly that night, were we?"

"Exactly," Dash said. "We all weren't making the best decisions. Myself especially."

"I meant what I said earlier Dash. I wasn't in the frame of mind to be there emotionally for you. Sure we found Ozzy, settled Jenny's debt, but I neglected you that night. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for not understanding," Dash said. "And jumping to conclusions. I let my fears get the best of me. Especially after that Gossip Girl blast."

"Which Gossip Girl blast?"

"The one with you and Ozzy? Embracing?"

"Gossip Girl reported that?"

"Um yeah. It was in the middle of the night, you both were sitting on concrete…"

"Right after the bus left," Evelyn said. "How did she get that photo? The only people that were there…" Were Ruby and Alejandro. And the people on the bus. How did someone capture that?

"That's out of context. That was just after I was able to get him to come off the bus. Dash, I-I wouldn't read anything into that."

Except that she and Ozzy discussed being friends the day after. The implication of intimacy was there in the moment. There was no follow through.

"That's the thing. I did read into it. That's why I…didn't trust you."

"I'm sorry," Evelyn said.

"I'm sorry too," Dash said. "I'm sorry for doubting you, jumping to conclusions, not being here this summer, and…"

"Why don't we put that night behind us?" Evelyn said.

"For good?"

Evelyn nodded. "Start fresh, or where we left off?"

Dash pulled her closer. "Before we got that phone call?"

"Just about," Evelyn whispered as she leaned forward.

They kissed, and Dash scooped Evelyn up. Evelyn yelped but then laughed. She wrapped her legs around his waist tight.

"I've been thinking about where we left off," Evelyn said. She tucked a long patch of hair behind his ear. He needed a good haircut.

"What about it?"

"I wasn't being very clear with what I wanted. Truth is, I wasn't ready to…you know."

"I understand. I didn't mean to push you. I just…got a bit excited."

"It's okay. I'm saying this—well, trying to—because I think I'm ready."

"Right now?"

Evelyn chuckled. "Not this second. I have a couple things I need to do to prepare first."

"I have condoms if that's what you're referring to."

"Not just that. When I get back into the city, I need to set up an appointment to see my new physician. I need parental consent to go on birth control, and Aunt Kim is a complete no-go with that, so I'm going to try to twist Lily's arm into doing it."

"That's very responsible of you."

"Please. I just learned something after all the pregnant women I saw this summer. Wasn't always pretty."

Dash let go of Evelyn, and she returned to standing, her arms around his neck. The sun had started to set, and the mosquitos were making a reappearance.

"I love you, Evelyn. I really, really do."

"I love you too."

They kissed as if it would be there last, and it almost made up for all of the time they missed in the summer. Dash leaned back, lifting Evelyn again. Her legs kicked back this time. She smiled into the kiss. This was a moment to capture, and before she could pull her camera out to snap it, it passed.

Cruise boats sailed down the Bassin de la Vilette when Blair and Jean arrived. Along the pathway that paralleled the canal, vendors stood behind a black sheet of designer knockoff purses, watches, and sunglasses. Couples walked hand in hand along the canal, while packs of youth chased each other, and occasionally waved to people on the boat. It was a different version of Paris than Blair was used to, but it was a welcomed one. Most of the couples didn't hold a camera in their hands, but held onto each other. Blair noticed that Jean's hand felt warm earlier, balmy even. They didn't hold hands now. They fell into step and their conversation had lulled.

Blair focused her attention on the hideous designer knockoffs laid out on the small blankets to her left. She saw one woman bend down and pick up a Gucci purse with the big G's all over it. Blair resisted the urge to comment. There were no helping people who didn't have taste.

"Do you come here often?" Blair asked.

"Not so much anymore, but we used to. There's a really great park in this area. I just thought it would be a bit different than the usual sights you're used to."

"It's lovely," Blair said. She actually meant it too. She never expected to find beauty in the once industrial port. That usually wasn't her style. But with the waters shimmered under the glowing lamplights, and patios filled with flowerboxes and string lights carried their own charm.

"I guess the live music has finished for the evening," Jean said as a scraggly young man packed up his guitar and harmonica. He gathered the euros and American bills without counting them and put them in his backpack.

"That's fine," Blair said. "I wasn't in the mood for Bob Dylan covers anyway."

"What are you in the mood for?"

His question posed an opportunity to Blair. An opportunity she rarely saw. "This," Blair said. She took his hand.

If it hadn't been so dark out, she would be able to trace a flush that spread across Jean's cheeks. He didn't say anything. He kept his gaze on putting one foot in front of the other.

Blair looked forward and felt Jean's grip become steadier. This was no big deal. It was just a date. Sure, his mom was an editor at Vogue, and that he had good taste, and she really wanted to Google his family once she got back to the apartment, but who wouldn't? What if he had ties to the nobility? What if he was royalty?

"Do you have any siblings?" Blair found herself asking.

"Yes. A younger brother and sister. You?"

Blair shook her head. "Only child."

"Lucky."

"I know," Blair giggled. "So you come from a big family?"

"Sort of. We've split up quite a bit, my father had six siblings when he grew up in Fources while ma mere had a sister who also is still in Paris."

With that answer, Blair deduced that Jean didn't come from royalty. That was a low blow. Seriously. She already had the royal wedding planned in her head.

Blair slowed when she saw an available park bench underneath one of the many trees that lined the walkway.

Blair took a seat and Jean followed. They faced the water which had calmed down since the last boat had past ten minutes ago.

They continued to talk about their shared interests, their conversation starting off slow and measured and becoming louder and impassioned when they debated.

"I'm really glad I stopped your friend at the Louvre," Jean said. "I tried to talk to you first, but every time I picked up the courage, you would disappear."

"So that's what your excuse is?" Blair said. "I don't know if you noticed this, but I'm used to my friend Serena getting all the attention."

"It's better that way," Jean said.

"Is it? I've never found that to be so."

"Of course, it's better. Why do you care what other people think? They don't know you. They don't have the right to have an opinion of you."

"You seemed to have an opinion on me from a distance," Blair said.

"I had an impression. That's different."

"I see," Blair said. "And what do you do when your friend gets all the attention, including your boyfriend's?"

"Hm. That is a bit more complicated."

"A bit?"

"Did that actually happen?"

"In high school. We've moved past it."

"Wow. That's impressive. You must be very good friends."

"Best friends."

"You'll have to excuse me for saying this, but it sounds like your boyfriend wasn't very bright."

Blair held in a scoff. Nate bright? No one ever put those two words in the same sentence.

"They both weren't."

"Both?"

"Yes. That one I dated in high school, but there was someone else I dated this past year."

"Dated?"

"His best friend."

"That is what you call irony right?"

"You could say that."

"And what happened?"

"He broke up with me a few months ago."

"I'm sorry. He also doesn't seem too bright either."

"It's okay…now. I didn't realize how serious both my relationships have been until now, now that I'm far enough away from them."

Jean nodded. He stretched out his arms and folded them across his chest.

"Have you had any terrible exes?"

"Terrible, no. A couple exes yes. My love live certainly isn't as interesting as yours is."

At the time, interesting would be the last world Blair would use to describe her love life. Tumultuous seemed like a more apt term.

But Blair had to remind herself that Nate and Chuck were behind her. She was in Paris. She met Jean, and they were sitting on a park bench, underneath the lamplight while overlooking a French canal. Her life had never seemed so romantic.

She snuck a peak at Jean who looked at the water pensive. She'd hardly say she knew him, but she did enjoy the calming presence he had. There were no blank stares under a wave of high that she had with Nate. He wasn't…whatever Chuck was. He was calm, humble, and she felt completely safe.

He caught her staring and grinned. Was that the second time he caught her?

Jean stretched his arms to the sides so they rested on the top of the bench. She had yet to tell Jean the details of her leaving in a couple days, but he probably already knew. She'd return to her life at Columbia, and he would surely continue his life here. No big deal.

Blair shifted her seat closer to Jean. She leaned back on the bench, far back enough that she felt his arm behind her neck. His arm curled around her shoulder.

Blair relaxed in his embrace. She missed this. She missed the small touches like these that she could have whenever she wanted. Blair missed the intimate moments that required no words to speak how she felt. She missed the learning stages of understanding a new person's touch, wordless language, and new feelings.

But it wasn't enough. She wanted more. Blair sat up and turned her body to face Jean's. She felt his hand graze her upper back.

"Jean?"

"Yes?"

Blair stroke his stubbly cheek. They stared at each other for a moment, wordless, but communicating.

Then, it was Blair who leaned forward and pressed her soft lips against his. Jean kissed her back carefully, as carefully as he studied art.

In that moment and after, Blair didn't regret it.

Jack disappeared behind the door as Bart neared the bouncer. He was a burly man with wide shoulder and dreadlocks that were pulled into a low ponytail.

"Name?"

"Bart Bass. I'm Jack Bass's brother."

"Can I see some ID please?"

Never in his time at Bass Industries had anyone ever had to ask him that question. He brushed off the annoyance he felt toward the bouncer and presented his driver's licence. The bouncer looked at it carefully and returned it to him. He stepped aside.

"Thank you," Bart said.

He stepped inside to see Jack sitting on the couch, surrounded by men he couldn't recognize. The same waitresses dotted on each of them, offering anything they'd like, including any attention required.

Bart approached the group, and all eyes turned. Jack looked the least surprised out of all of them. Bart knew him better than that. Jack worked to constrain his reaction, and introduced Bart to the group of men.

"Fellas, this is my brother Bart."

It struck him that he conveniently left out a very important detail about him. He neglected to mention that he was the previous CEO of Bass Industries. That would help place him in anyone's memory in the business world.

Jack introduced each of the men in the room as the top owners of the best bars and clubs in Manhattan.

"Pleasure to meet you all," Bart bowed his head to them. "I was hoping I could speak with my brother privately?"

They all nodded, and left their drinks behind.

"You always do know how to suck the air out of a room," Jack said. He settled back on the leather couch, his legs sprawled.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if I were invited the traditional way?"

"Must have been a mistake," Jack said.

That was a flimsier excuse than a child claiming their dog ate their homework. "I'm a shareholder. I have as much right to be here as everyone else."

"Well, you're here aren't you? Came to rain on my parade? Don't forget, I can still rain on yours."

"That's not what I'm here for. I'm concerned with the new direction you're taking Bass Industries."

"So you came to lecture me?"

"I came to give you some advice."

"Well, I don't want it. You ran the company your way, and I can run the company my way."

"You are asking for a lot of trouble with the new branding strategy," Bart said.

"Please. It's giving Bass Industries flavour, personality. Something you lack." Jack took a quick sip of his drink.

"It already has plenty. But above that, it's respected. You run the risk of alienating half of our market with this branding."

"How's that?"

"Take a look around. Are we at a corporate event or a strip club? These girls are barely wearing a cocktail napkin. And the bars and clubs will serve what, fetishes?"

"It may be difficult for your old brain to understand, but staying at hotels is a vacation for most people. And you know what vacations are? An escape. A taste for the exotic, culture, and food. Why don't we start offering that? We are located all around the world. It's about time we start embracing that."

"All I'm saying is that bars and clubs is risky business. Lots of problems can happen, and it's difficult to get proper permits in New York, let alone the rest of the world."

"I appreciate your concern, but that's not your decision to make anymore."

"Doesn't twenty years of experience count for something?"

"Maybe it amounts to a trophy or a plaque? Or maybe it's worth a Rolex. Look, whatever you think that's worth, it doesn't matter to me. You can be sentimental on your own. I am looking forward for the future of this company, and I don't want us to get left behind. We have lots of competition rising, especially from China, and we have to be on our game. We have to have an x factor that we right now don't have."

Bart observed his brother's loose tie and wrinkled shirt. If time meant so little to him, did all those years before this company mean nothing to him? All those years Bart looked out for him, kept him on the straight and narrow had gone awry.

"Do you have anything else to lecture me about?" Jack said. "I have to get back to greeting and mingling with everyone."

Without a goodbye, his brother took his drink and brushed past him. He watched the back of his figure walk through the clusters of Bass Industries employees, stakeholders, and what he thought were friends. Without the company, he was nothing but an outsider.

The bouncer held the door open for him and held his elbow to stop him from continuing to the party.

"Excuse me, sir? Mr. Bass requested that you be escorted out for the evening."

"I am a stakeholder," Bart said. "Do you need more proof?"

"I'm sorry sir, but it's Mr. Bass's orders."

It was his brother's orders all right. He got the message loud and clear. He was no longer welcome at Bass Industries.

Chuck gripped his empty tumbler tightly and knocked it against his head. It was past one in the morning. They'd been waiting for hours. They talked and talked about their summer stories, and even resorted to playing cards while they waited for Blair.

Where was she?

By midnight, Chuck was slightly irritated, but as the night wore on, he became progressively agitated. What was she doing with him? Where was she? Would she even come home tonight? He would wait on the couch until morning if that's how long it took.

Serena tossed an ace on the pile of cards. "President again."

Nate threw his deck on the table. "I hate this game."

"You only hate it because you can't get out from being the janitor," Serena said.

"Why don't we play Euchre instead?" Nate said.

"I'd rather watch paint dry," Chuck said. He set his glass on the table. He stood, stretched his legs and walked out on the balcony. He could see the Eiffel tower sparkle in the distance, as cars revved and raced on a nearby street. The Arch du Triumph was light, defiant. But there was no Blair. A dark car that was parked below the building turned the lights on and tip toed down the street.

Chuck returned to the living room where Serena sprawled out on an armchair, while Nate stretched out on the couch.

Suddenly, they all heard the door unlock.

"Serena!" Blair called from the front foyer.

"Blair!" Serena jumped up from the armchair and raced toward her friend.

"Forget everything I said to you earlier. Tonight, was amazing—"

Blair halted when she saw Chuck and Nate in the living room. Her flushed face and sparkling eyes extinguished at the sight of him. Her brows furrowed and her mouth turned to a frown.

"What are you doing here?" Blair turned to Serena and unlinked her arm. "Did you invite them?"

"No—" Serena said.

"Forgive us for the intrusion, but Nate called," Chuck said. "I also wanted to see you. To talk."

"And you couldn't wait until we were back in New York for that?" Blair said.

He hoped they could figure it out so that it would be dealt with before they returned to New York, and especially campus.

"Nate and I'll just be in my room, to give you both some privacy," Serena said.

"So you can eavesdrop?" Blair said.

"We can't help it if the walls are thin," Nate said. "We could be listening to much worse…"

Serena yanked his arm and closed the door behind her.

Blair took off her coat and dropped it with her purse on the armchair. She folded her arms over her chest.

"You wanted to say something to me? Talk."

Chuck didn't know where to begin. It was one thing if she were here with Serena alone, but everything became more complicated. She just came back from a date.

"How was your date?"

"Marvelous. Jean is so cultured, and sophisticated, not to mention a perfect gentleman."

"Is he?"

Blair nodded emphatically.

"Sounds like a cold bedfellow."

"Why are you here Chuck? You made it perfectly clear that you wanted nothing to do with me."

"That's not entirely true."

'Then what's the truth?"

"The truth is that Jack took over Bass Industries, and he did it with something you gave him. That didn't just betray me, but my family."

"And I'm sorry I did that. But I didn't know what was in the envelop or what he intended to do with it. He lied to me."

"I know," Chuck said. "I just really wish you didn't do it."

"If I could take it back, I would have, believe me. But we can't change the past."

"You're right. Everything's different now isn't it?"

"It is," Blair said, her eyes glassy.

"How?"

"I don't want to get back together with you." Blair looked down at her feet, and two tears began to fall on either side of her cheeks. "I know you broke up with me, but I didn't want to let go of you, but I think I should. We should. Because it's the only way to move on, right? We only bring out the worst in each other. Mistrust. Deception. It was only a matter of time before we imploded more than we already have."

Chuck swallowed and nodded. Did he want to move on? He didn't, he loved her, but he couldn't get past the part of him that would always struggle to trust her.

"I'll still love you," Chuck said. He stepped toward her and took her hands in his.

"I'll still love you too." Blair smiled sadly.

He kissed her on both cheeks, and then the tops of their clasped hands. Was this it? Was it over? What was he going to do? Who was he going to go to talk to?

He couldn't let go of her hands. They were warm, soft, and knowing. Suddenly, he was terrified of letting go.

"Tell Nate I'll be downstairs."

"Okay."

He kissed her again, this time on the forehead. He held her close, breathed her in, and felt the curve of her lower back.

"If you need anything…" He began to say.

"I know."

He let go of her, and walked to the door and let himself out. It took everything within him to not look back.

The street lamps glowed on the sleepy streets of Southington when Evelyn and Dash returned from their walk. Aunt Kim sat on the porch with a mug of tea in her hands, a single mosquito repellant candle by her side. The crickets were especially quiet that night.

"Did you enjoy your walk?" Aunt Kim said.

"Yes," Dash said. "It's so peaceful here. Is it always quiet like this?"

Aunt Kim nodded. "In the summer, yes. During five o'clock rush hour, you can hear the traffic from Hartford."

"The only time it's this quiet in New York is if you're high up in the sky," Evelyn added. "I don't think I could live there without it."

"Would you like some tea Dash?"

He checked his watch. "No thank you. I should actually go soon. My dad and stepmom are waiting for me."

Evelyn squeezed his hand. Did he have to go? Maybe he could stay over. It was late and driving at night might be a hazard.

Dash called his driver, and they waited on the porch swing while Aunt Kim excused herself to clean up the kitchen.

"Do you have to go?"

"Yes. My dad will be worried."

"But there will be fireworks tomorrow. You don't want to miss that." Evelyn rested her chin on his shoulder.

"That's a very tempting offer, but I do need to go home. I'm visiting Ozzy tomorrow. Get ready for school to start next week. I'll see you in a couple days, I promise."

The headlights of Dash's car light up the driveway. Aunt Kim returned to say her goodbye to Dash. She gave him a hug and said, "You're welcome here anytime, Dash."

"Thank you, Mrs. Ainsley. I really appreciate it."

Evelyn walked with him to the car. Evelyn looked back to the porch. Her Aunt was watching from the front step.

"I'll see you back in the city," Evelyn said. She held him in a tight embrace.

"You can count on it."

Dash opened the door and climbed in. He rolled down the window and gave her hand a squeeze. Evelyn stepped away from the car and watched it roll back and out of the driveway, She waved and waited for the car to disappear from view.

Aunt Kim still stood on the front step, sturdy and reliable. Evelyn followed her back in the house.

Ozzy couldn't sleep at the Montgomery house that night. He couldn't turn his mind off. He tossed and turned for a couple hours until he turned his lamp light on. He wrote, took breaks, dozed, startled, and wrote well into the early hours of the morning. While his eyes felt heavy, his thoughts kept racing, as if speeding around a track, making the same loop over and over.

Ozzy saw Dash return late that evening. They talked about the flight until the jet lag almost had Dash sleeping standing up. This led to Ozzy writing about Dash late in the night. He was happy that Dash was back, really, but something seemed different about Dash. He seemed a little more reserved, less boisterous than usual. He seemed preoccupied, and Ozzy could only assume it had to do with Evelyn.

Now, he sat on his usual brown sofa waiting for Dr. Albright. This time, he didn't write while he waited. He needed to rest his hand, so looked out the window instead. Below, the same two boys he saw a couple weeks ago were on the court playing one on one. The younger boy who wasn't able to make a shot last time, took a different strategy. He moved faster with agility, deeked left and right, and improved the form of his shot. He hit the back of the net and the ball bounced in. The boy fell forward, his hands on his bent knees, a relieved smile on his face.

The door opened revealing Dr. Albright.

"Ozzy. Good to see you as always. How was your weekend at home?"

Ozzy returned to the plush brown sofa. "It was good. Quiet."

"A good quiet or a not so good quiet?"

"In between."

"So what did you do at home?"

"I had dinner with my mom, and Dash came home late. He's probably still sleeping off the jet lag right now. I also wrote a lot. I-I talked to my mom too."

"What did you talk about?"

"Pat Buchanan."

"And what did she say about him?"

"She said what she saw in him. She didn't know how I felt about him."

"Did you tell her?"

Ozzy shook his head sharply.

"Why?"

"I've already upset her enough. I wouldn't want to worry her anymore."

"I see. What kind of relationship did you have with Pat?"

Ozzy wiped his clammy hands against his cargo pants and took a deep breath.

"He seemed nice at first. He was from this family dynasty that owned a few oil rigs. Wealthy I guess. I think my mom knew him from mutual friends growing up. Distant, but they reconnected when we moved from LA. He was older. Had some grey hair behind his ears. Divorced.

"He had two sons. One that was a freshman in high school, the other was a baby. Different mothers. There was probably an affair mixed in there, but I can't say that's a fact."

Dr. Albright sat opposite of him without her usual pen and paper in her lap.

"We moved in with him after a few months. It seemed serious. More serious than the guy from LA. My mom was happy, and I thought I would stay there. His older son, Logan, was aloof, but I was used to that."

"My mom got a job working part time as an event planner for social committees and would be out during the evenings, so Pat would often look after me when he came home from work. We played monopoly a lot. He always won, and I always ended up in jail. Wasn't good at rolling the dice, I guess. But it started with a comment. When I was stuck in jail, my turn lost, he said 'that's probably where your dad is' and laughed. I didn't know who my father was, so I thought maybe he knew something about him, but the more that I think about it…"

He had never spoken about this time of his life before, and he was beginning to find the words why. He was ashamed of it. Embarrassed. It was the time of his life where he learned that he would never be good enough, that he would always be inferior for reasons that seemed to blend with the colour of his skin.

He wasn't finished. The story played in his head, and the words were tumbling out, rushing to be heard for the first time. "He drank a lot. I remember him always having a beer in his hand. I think he was an alcoholic. He was always looser when he came home. Blamed it on the stress of work. My mom didn't notice it. I didn't either. I mean, I didn't really know what alcoholism looked like. He didn't like it that I was doing better than Logan in school. Thought it wasn't right, but the truth was his son wasn't very smart school wise. I can't say he didn't put in the effort, but he always needed a tutor to help him finish his homework. He would praise Logan when he got a B, and if he had to sign my homework when my mom wasn't home, he would always find a mistake in it. I remember him saying once 'hm, a few slips' because I got like three marks off a test or something. Whatever I did wasn't enough. I really don't know what he had against me."

"What was Logan like?" Jane asked.

"He was distant. Lived in his own little world. Arrogant. Popular, I guess. We didn't get along. He ignored me a lot of the time. Hung out with his friends a lot."

"And you?"

"I didn't really have any friends. I was the new kid again, and most people only talked to me because it was like they were fascinated by my difference. Once that wore off, no one included me. I went to a private school that was very small, and all of the kids were very similar to each other. Grew up together, had similar backgrounds, families, all that stuff."

"So Pat used to say these things to make you feel inferior?"

"Yes, and he…"

"He what?"

Ozzy's hands balled up into fists.

"He was really drunk the one night, my mom had an event until late, and he stayed up to wait for me and Logan to come home. We went to this party with all his ninth-grade friends. My mom forced Logan to take me, but I was perfectly fine not going. It turned out to be a mess of a night. I really drank for the first time, and I tried pot for the first time, and I also…" His cheeks turned red.

"Go on," Jane said.

"It's kind of personal," Ozzy said.

"This is a safe space, Ozzy. You don't have to be afraid. There's no judgment."

"I also, uh…." His voice lowered, "lost my virginity that night."

Jane nodded without a hint of expression on her face. Ozzy's shoulder's slumped.

"I really regret that. I mean, I don't even remember her name. That's bad isn't it? I was high, so was she, apparently, she was known for getting around, and she was a couple years older than me? It didn't last very long, well I didn't last," he rubbed the back of his neck, "Anyway…"

"Did you consent?"

"What does that mean?"

"Did you give her permission to have sex?"

He sat pensive for a moment. The details were foggy. "I mean, I guess I did if we…anyway it happened fast. We were talking for a bit, she was flirting with me, we went off to a room. She started kissing me and touching me. I mean, I didn't say no."

"Consent is not an assumption, Ozzy. There is a prevailing myth in our society that women should always be responsible for saying no, but that's simply not true. You can say no too, Ozzy."

"But if I didn't want to, wouldn't that make me…"

"Make you what?"

"I don't know, like gay or something?"

"Consent has nothing to do with sexual orientation. You have just as much of a right to have your boundaries respected as a girl your age does."

Ozzy thought about Catherine in that moment. Was he consenting when he went over to her house scrounging for drugs? Ozzy's shoulders slumped further while his stomach churned.

"I know I might be coming off as borderline lecturing, but I bring this up because I don't want you to think that your first sexual encounter that you've described to me is healthy. Do you understand?"

Ozzy nodded. "I'm beginning to."

Even though he'd had multiple sexual partners, he was getting the feeling from Dr. Albright that he knew little about sex. He always thought that he should always want sex, especially if the girl he's with was into it. He didn't even know the first person he had sex with, only that she was beautiful in that drunk and hazy moment, and he only wanted the drugs when he was with Catherine...

His shoulders suddenly felt fifty pounds heavier.

"So what happened after the party?"

Ozzy took a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts back to the story. "It was late. Way past curfew. I couldn't find Logan, so I showed up alone. Pat was waiting for us, my mom had gone to bed I think, and he was angry. He was angry that I was so late, and…" His breaths became shorter and he balled his hands into fists.

"And then what?"

Ozzy shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Jane stood from her usual armchair across from him. She sat beside him and began to rub small circles between his shoulders.

"He hit me," Ozzy said. His vision blurred, and tears began to fall to the carpet. "He smelled the weed, probably the sex too. He grabbed me by the collar and took me to my room. He said all these nasty and obscene things. Called me dirty, ungrateful, worthless. He used his belt, like his dad did, and said it was for my own good."

There it was. The reason he was too scared to face. The person who instilled these thoughts in him. How could he have let someone do that to him? He hated him. He hated himself.

Ozzy wasn't sure how long he cried for, but he was sure they had gone over their usual scheduled time. Jane made no mention of it. She held his hand and didn't say a word. Her hand was warm and steady.

When Ozzy caught his breath, he sat back, exhausted.

"Did he do that again?" Jane asked softly.

"No. Just the one time. But I constantly feared it after. I was afraid to tell my mom because he could deny it or he would do it again. But we never spoke of it. It was like it never happened."

"How long did you stay there for?

"Until the summer break. My mom had a major falling out with him when she discovered he cheated on her. I was relieved when she said we were moving."

Ozzy laid back on the couch, his body limp. He felt drained, but everything started to connect in his mind, why he ran to parties and drugs. He did it then to escape his potential step-father. Why did he think he wasn't good enough for Evelyn? Because he was told, and was reinforced by social behaviours, that he wasn't. She was white. He wasn't. He didn't think that mattered. He believed in the inspiring speeches throughout American history that it didn't matter. But in the direct ways in Houston, and the subtle ways on Upper East Side, it did. In these areas of affluence, it would always matter.

"It never fails to amaze me how influential those formative years are," Jane began. "It's easy to believe what others tell you who you are especially with the threatening power he had over you. But I need you to understand something. It's very important Ozzy."

He turned his head to ensure she had his full attention.

"You are in control of who you are and you alone. You can't let someone else's hurtful words define who you are. You are at a critical point in adolescence amid so much change, that there is an opportunity of growth. You have that chance right now Ozzy. To grow past this, to change the narrative of who you are by discovering who you want to be. It's not easy, but it is imperative that you take this opportunity and run with it."

"Or else?"

"You don't change. You continue to hurt, and nobody will be more disappointed about that than yourself."

"How do I move forward? I have no idea who I am."

"It's easy to start with something small. School is starting, and you can decide to try new things. New clubs, teams, or even get involved outside of school if you come across something that strikes your passion. But before you fill in the gaps of your life, you need to learn to do something else."

"What?"

"Forgive yourself."

He started to make a confused face, and Jane raised her hand. "It seems like a simple thing to ask, but I'm serious. You need to forgive yourself for what happened, your fear, and any time you fall short or don't feel like you are reaching your potential. You need to forgive yourself and let go."

Ozzy looked at the watch. Over two hours had flown by, and it was dinner time.

"I think we should leave it there for today, yes?"

Ozzy nodded. "Should I write about this in my journal?" The thought didn't scare him like it did a few days ago, but he was so drained. He didn't think he could rehash it again.

"No. We've been through quite a lot this session. How about you write about something that makes you happy?"

Happy. There was one thought that immediately came to mind, and it wasn't swimming.

"Okay. I can do that."

As Ozzy packed up journal and pen a memory about Logan came through his mind. He forgot the context of the conversation, but he remembered where they were. They were walking up the long driveway after school, and Logan asked him, "What do you mean you don't know who your dad is?"

He stuttered a reply, something about his father being important in Mexico. He always made up different professions for him. He watched Spy Kids way too much as a kid, and his favourite fantasy was his dad being a spy.

But what stuck with Ozzy all these years was what Logan said next. It was one of the few instances in his life where he was grateful he didn't have a father at all.

Logan pointed to one of their gardeners that was Mexican and said, "I bet he looks just like him."

On the last night in Paris, Blair found herself back in her room watching Audrey in Breakfast at Tiffany's. She'd watched the movie so many times that she could recite most of it by heart. She never tired of It, nor did she ever want it to end when the credits rolled.

Ever since Chuck surprised her at their apartment two nights ago, Blair curled into herself again. She didn't feel like doing much of anything. She didn't want to go shopping for the last time, she didn't want to pick up croissants, or go back to the Louvre.

Jean had texted her a few times wanting to see her again. Before she walked into the apartment, Blair would have texted him back immediately, giddy. But all of that excitement of infatuation and possibility completely evaporated when she saw Chuck. He sucked all the wind from her sails and she felt rudderless again.

Serena opened the door without knocking, a pizza box in her hand. She looked at the screen and said, "You're watching Tiffany's without me?"

The credits began to roll and Blair shut the TV. "I thought you were still out?"

"I was. And I brought food. Which, by the looks of it, you need too. Come on."

Blair dragged her feet to the kitchen and sat on one of the bar stools. Serena put a piece of Italian pizza on her plate and set it in front of her. Blair pushed the plate away.

"Blair," Serena said in a warning tone.

"I'm not hungry."

Serena stared at her with a stern yet worried look.

"I'm fine, Serena. Honest. I'm not doing…that again."

"Okay." Serena sat beside her and picked off a piece of prosciutto from her pizza. "We haven't really talked about what happened."

"It's over with Chuck. For good. I'm sure you and Nate heard our whole conversation through the wall."

"Not just that. But the date too. Blair, you were glowing when I saw you last night. You said it went well?"

"What does it matter now? That Basshole ruined it for me."

"For the record, I didn't invite him. Nate called after you left with Jean, and they insisted on staying until you returned. I thought it was best to keep them occupied instead of them coming to interrupt your date."

"I know. It's not your fault. We were going to have to face it eventually. The truth of the matter is this. Chuck simply can't trust and accept my willingness to shield or help those I love no matter what the cost. Since he couldn't accept that about me, we can't move forward. We'll just have the same fight over and over again."

"How are you feeling about it?"

"I mean, of course I'm sad. Still heartbroken, but Serena, when I was out with Jean, I-I don't know how to put this, but I had fun. More than fun, I felt free for the first time in a long time."

"Free from what?"

"Loving someone. It's a responsibility I've always taken so seriously, and I've given such devotion too. I believe in it so much that I've been completely blind to something I've neglected."

"What's that?"

"Me. Loving me. I've always wanted to be loved by someone. I always thought that if I were loved by someone that I would love myself. That's not true. I have to love me first. I don't think…I've ever done that."

Serena took her hand, her eyes glassy.

"Letting go of Chuck is hard. Very hard. I thought he was the one, Serena. I still can't imagine my life if he wasn't in it. What do I do? What do we do when we run into each other on campus?"

"Be cordial?" Serena offered.

"We don't do that," Blair said.

"It was worth a shot," Serena said.

"I'm not sure. I'm not sure for many things. But Joy said something that stuck with me. She asked me if I've ever been alone, and when I said no, I didn't realize at first what that meant. But now I know something for sure. I need to be in a relationship with myself first. I don't really know what that would be like, and being alone is scary."

"If anyone can do it, it would be you Blair," Serena said.

"I don't know about that…"

"Listening to you right now makes me feel without a shadow of a doubt that you can do it. Listen to yourself. You're making discoveries about yourself, and putting yourself first. I couldn't be more inspired and prouder than I am of you in this moment."

Blair squeezed her best friend's hand. "I couldn't have a better best friend."

Serena smiled. "So what about Jean? Are you going to see him again?"

"I did this morning before you woke up. I told him I was leaving and said goodbye."

"And?"

"I told him I really enjoyed getting to know him, but that I was leaving tomorrow. He understood and we both said we would stay in touch."

"That's it?"

"What do you mean that's it?"

"You were being a bit allusive about your date. What were you doing that it took until two in the morning for you to come home?"

"We went for a walk after dinner at the Bassin de la Villette."

"Where's that?"

"It's north east neighbourhood in Paris. I think you would like it."

"So you just talked all night?"

Blair couldn't hide the smile on her face.

"Oh my God. Something happened. Spill."

"Let's just say I learned how the Frenchmen put French into kissing."

"Oh la la!" Serena threw her head back in surprise. "Details please."

Blair felt her cheeks heat up. She hadn't felt this way since she first told Serena she kissed Nate.

"I kissed him actually," Blair said.

"Good for you."

Blair rolled her eyes. "He was good."

"Just good?"

"Better than good. Different. Refreshing."

"And you're not going to see him again? Be refreshed some more?"

"I already have a date."

"With whom?"

"You. Obviously."

Serena smiled and giggled. "You had me going there for a second. Should I open a bottle now, date?"

"We have to pack Serena."

"We can do that tomorrow."

"Some of us don't throw out clothes and sit on it to make sure it shuts."

"Blair, we have one more bottle of pinot left. We have to finish it."

"Fine, we can finish it while we pack, but I swear if you're doing this to lure me into bad karaoke again while taking video, you will be disappointed."

Serena opened the last bottle and made sure to give Blair the fuller glass. "We'll see about that."

Just as every summer ends, all tourists come home. All dreamers wake up. And new problems are born. But no matter what the new season brings, we'll always have Paris.

Bisou Bisou,

XOXO Gossip Girl

A/N: And there you have it! I'll be honest, this was an emotional chapter to write, and it took me longer than usual to finish it because I wanted to handle the sensitive subject matter carefully. With the summer chapters now complete, we will dive into the next phase of part three with the first day of senior year in the next chapter titled "The Outsiders".

So what did you think? Let me know by leaving a review!

Till next time,

XOXO EZ11