AN: Bitches thought you heard the last of me...
Sorry I'm really tired.
SONG FOR CHAPTER: The Queen's Nose by Slow Club
OUTFITS AND EPISODE STILLS: My pitnerest - Manhattanapple
So enjoy... got there in the end. Don't know if I'm completely happy with it but #YOLO (lol hms)
Night.
I didn't need to open my eyes to know that it was a beautiful day: my face was warm and sleep when the first colour I see is the gold glow that the white duvet makes when it merges with the sun's orange tint. The muffled harmony of giggling breaks through the quilt also and I feel silk nightgowns brush me as the legs of Serena and Blair move with laughter.
"Evie! Wake up, come on!" Blair squeal, pushing my heavy weight with force.
"Evie, you've been asleep for hours, we're wasting the day." Serena's own honey voice drips with friendly impatience, and I expect that she too is wanting to cherish every minute of this calm before the storm.
I hold no doubts that these past few days have been the best days I've had in what seems like forever. Because of the masquerade ball every single girl that goes to Constance Billiard has had only two things on their minds 1) what they're going to wear to the ball and 2) who they're going to take to the ball. Consequently there's been no unnecessary or tiresome drama and Serena, Blair and I have revisited the old days: days that were carefree and where none of us had slept with anyone else's boyfriends. What's better is that between school, homework and catching up with Blair and Serena there's been no time to accidentally run in to him.
And by 'him' I mean the bane of my existence - who just won't let me be – Chuck Bass. Who hasn't even checked in to see I was alive since last Saturday. But I'm not bothered by that.
So yes, it's been an amazing week but again it's the calm before the storm. And I just wanted to be in this happy place for-
"Five more minutes?" I groan with a dry, cracked voice that tries to cry out when the duvet is ripped away. I pull my saliva slicked hand away from my face, trying to reach for a blanket or a pillow to cover my vulnerable body.
"No! We've got less than a day to finish preparing for the masquerade ball tonight, and you don't even know what you're wearing yet, so get up before I set your disgusting shoes on fire!"
"Fine!" I shout and then, sitting up I mumble moodily, "Just don't touch my boots."
Laughing they move around me, lounging rather than lying, showing off their expensive and luxurious lingerie to no one in particular. I sit crossed legged between them, my flannel shirt buttoned wrong and my unshaven legs peeking from my tracksuits, rubbing the sleep from my tired eyes. Their eyes sparkle with excitement and they discuss tonight, wanting to include me so that they could successfully dictate what I will wear. It's always been their job considering I didn't care much about the politics of clothes in the Upper East Side, all I've ever cared about in the past is what I'm getting high off of that night. The beauty of it was that Blair and Serena really didn't mind – I think that they want to dress me all the time.
"So Kati mentioned something about a custom-made corset, and I hear that there are wigs involved?" Bewilders Serena, balking over the idea of getting dressed up so ridiculously.
"It's a masquerade. You have to conceal your identity," Reasons Blair, her voice giving evidence to her concealed excitement. "But I do have something special planned for Nate tonight." I perk up at this, leaning in closer. It's the first Serena and I have hear about this 'special' plan and we've both been rooting for a development in the Blare & Nate Department. Blair's eyes hood with scheming, her hand rubbing like a thief. "It's a game." She reveals. Serena's eyebrows light up.
"Sounds kinky." Blair sticks her tongue out at me haughtily, but her cheeks go red.
"Shut up! It's a scavenger hunt. Nate starts the night with a clue, which leads him to a lady-in-waiting, who gives him a clue to the next lady-"
"-Wait. Hold on. You have ladies now?" Serena tries to interject but Blair, in her confidence, ignores it and carries on excitedly.
"If he finds me before midnight when the masks come off, he can claim his prize." Damn, the poor boy is not going to not what's hitting him.
"And's what's his prize?" Serena innocently asks.
"What do you mean 'what's his prize'?" I elate, going smoky in voice to imitate her and dodging the pillow she chucks at me in response. "I think it's obvious what the prize is." I laugh, winking at Blair who giggles back.
"Oh. Yeah, right. Sorry." Serena says awkwardly, smiling at her hands.
Blair sighs and tucks her hair behind her ears, going to pick off the stray nail varnish from the self-manicure last night. "I just figured that everything that's happened… or hasn't happened, I should find a way to make it special."
A warm, happy smile spreads across our faced, so happy that our friend is going to lose her virginity to love and not Freddie Hill in the year above whilst listening to Eminem in the back of his Rolls Royce. Not a good year for me.
"Well, that's really romantic, Blair." Serena takes her hand, "Really."
"I agree." I say leaning back into the sun and nodding at Blair, "Knowing you, it'll be perfect."
A sweet moment passes by as we all just relish in our friend's (who has been so lacking in company over the last ten months) much needed happiness.
"Look, um, if you don't want me to come tonight, I totally understand." Serena blurts out, spurring Blair on to sit up, her velvet dressing gown creasing as she moves about.
"What? No, I want you to come."
"And if I have to go," I interject accusingly, "then you have to go."
"Both of you are coming no matter what because, in fact, I was hoping you would be two of my ladies." She glares at me quickly, enforcing the words as law, and turns fully to Serena, who she smiles reassuringly at, "Would you give Nate the last clue?"
"Are you sure you want me to?"
"Tonight is all about starting over." She nods at Serena with brave certainty. "I trust you… and him."
There is no doubt that this is a big moment. It's been a month since Blair found out that Serena slept with Nate and even though they're fine now, sometimes I catch Blair looking at Serena, who might be talking to Nate or even discussing him, with mistrust. So this is a big moment, this is a next step in the repair.
Serena bounces up with joy, "Well, then I will be honoured to serve you, my Queen!" She bows theatrically causing a rare and genuine laugh to escape from the usually so uptight Blair.
"Well, besides, you're bringing Dan, right?" Serena's face suddenly falls as she remembers her maybe-boyfriend Dan, and what he'll think of this whole masquerade thing. A pre-ordained date to the ball means seriousness, and they'd only gone out two times so Serena had to tread carefully in order to not scare Prince Charming off.
"I know him," she argues, "A masked ball? Dan would never want to go to something that pretentious, where he has to wear a mask and a tux?" I snigger at the picture of Dan Humphrey in a penguin suit, and then chuckle at the picture of Chuck Bass dressed like a penguin.
"He likes you. He would wear a tux and a mask and one of my mother's dresses if it meant that he could come out with you. Come on." Serena blushes with embarrassment, "And, really, are you worried that he already has a date? I mean he is Dan Humphrey." She chuckles, earning a soft pat from a smiling Serena.
"Shut up. I don't know. I guess a masked ball is better than a regular party because then all those people from school that he hates – he won't even recognize them."
"Serena, I'm sure it'll be fine," I shrug in agreement, "I'm not bringing anyone so - worse comes to worse - you can turn up with me."
Bair scoffs, levelling her eyes at my fluttering ones accusingly, "What do you mean you aren't bringing a date? Isn't the love of your life, Chuck Bass going to take you?" I clench my fists. All week they've been hammering me about what happened last Friday at the club. They're adamant that we slept together despite my utter wish for them is to shut-the-holy-fuck-up.
"No, he isn't because Bass isn't the love of my life and I don't want him to be."
"Yeah sure," Serena throws back sarcastically, reaching to the pick up her phone on the bedside table, "But, and not because I don't want to go on a date with you Evie, I'm going to call Dan and just ask if he wants to go. It's no big deal."
"Yeah, sure." I pan, receiving another pillow to the face.
Giving us a warning look to be silent, Serena walks into the bathroom holding her phone to her ear and shutting the door behind her.
"Now you, it's time for a measuring!" Blair squeals, running to grab her measuring tape whilst I groan in misery. I've not exactly dropped a few pounds in my holiday away, if anything I've gained more muscle, but no one, and I repeat no one, likes to be measured.
Grumpily standing up and straightening my back, Blair rushes back and does what she does best- scheming.
Suddenly, Serena flies from the bathroom with a worried face, "Who's that?" She questions down the phone. A male voice is heard over the phone and Serena's eyebrows furrow at the door. We turn to see what she's looking at and Jenny Humphrey waddles in with a mile high pile of boxes and a huge Jenny-smile (!) on her face.
"Hi Blair! What do you want me to do with this stuff?"
"Oh, just leave them over there." Blair waves her to the general direction unenthusiastically, which Jenny takes in politely.
"Hey Jenny," I greet, arms straightened out at either side so that Blair can get the length. "How's school?"
"It's good, thanks Evie."
"I left you another list." Blair interrupts, and Jenny half staggers to the coffee table to get it, clearly enthusiastic to do Blair's bidding – which can only be a bad thing. Jenny's eyes widen when she reads it before letting out a choked laugh and running to get it done. It's was a bit unfair of Blair to leave her with so little time to do all of the boring shit that Blair doesn't want to do, but maybe Jenny will see what a complete bitch she is and then get over trying to be Queen B.
Yeah, sure.
"I'm sorry. Uh… what?" Serena replies, looking completely lost and dejected. "No. Uh, no, never mind. Have a good day. Bye." She hangs up the phone, shaking her head in disbelief.
"What happened?" I ask moving my head to the side so that Blair can continue her administrations.
"He said that he was with his sister. I think I need a date." Blair freezes, mouth agape. She rolls up the measuring tape before taking Serena's hand.
"We'll find you someone great, I promise. Dan Humphrey will rue the day he dishonoured the van der Woodsen name."
"Oh, boy. Watch out for wicked witch of the Upper East." I mutter. Blair spikes her elbow into my stomach before strutting off to get ready. I theatrically groan in pain, falling on the bed and grabbing onto Serena, pulling her down with me in a fit of giggles.
"Come on," Begins Serena after a few minutes waiting for the laughter to subside, "Kati and Is will be here soon, and don't think that you're getting out of picking out a dress."
"Yeah, yeah, as long as it doesn't light up I'll wear whatever you put me in."
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I was kicked out by midday, having been measured, Blair was content that I was no longer needed and considered me thereafter as 'in the way'. But I'm not complaining as it's given me time to get home, have a shower and do the Serena van der Woodsen famous pre-party prep, get into some comfy clothes and grab a book – all with hours to spare before I need to leave. I was into the third chapter of 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire' when my doorbell rang. Still holding my warm mug of coffee, I shuffle in my slippers to the front door, swinging to open without looking through the peephole.
Band member Max from 3B stands in the doorway, hair still slick and wet from a shower, bare feet half hidden under loose jeans. He's not wearing a shirt and his drummer arms are visible in the t-shirt he's wearing. I try not to stare. Or curse Chuck for ruing something that could have been great.
In his hands is a box a lot like the ones Jenny was carrying, so I assume it's something for tonight that Blair got delivered. He holds it out awkwardly, and I take it without a word passing between us.
"Is it your birthday or something?" Max attempts, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging.
"Definitely 'or something'. There's this silly school dance tonight and my friend is dressing me."
"Must be a pretty special friend." I can tell by the tone of his voice that he assumes that Chuck is this friend who is showering me with pretty gifts in bowtie boxes.
"Yeah, she is."
"Oh-oh, right. Cool… cool." He leans back looking anywhere but me. "So, maybe I'll see you later." It could've been a standard 'see you later' or it could have been a more hopeful 'see you later'. But whatever it was, Max didn't clarify, he just nodded goodbye and walked off, leaving me with a gift box and an empty doorway.
Shaking my head, I decide to leave Max for later and place the box on my coffee table, snatching the note from underneath the blue ribbon.
Something to wear tonight, so I know where to find you.
-B
I open the lid and almost (almost) gasp in fright. The damn thing was white.
"I'm going to look like I'm on my way to my own wedding." I whisper to thin air, "White? What is that girl thinking?" Taking it out and holding it up, the dress is sleeveless and simple in design, with the skirts billowing outwards ever so slightly. The bodice was patterned with delicate and subtle beading and at an angle the skirts shimmered with glitter ever so slightly. Don't get me wrong. The dress was beautiful but it gave me hives having to wear something that looked – and probably was – incredibly expensive. It was too much responsibility and I just couldn't do it.
I jump for my cell and poke in Blair's number. It goes to voicemail.
"Hey Blair, its Evie. Just calling to let you know that the generosity is appreciated but I can't wear the dress you sent me, it's just too expensive. I'll find something else. And don't worry, I'll get Serena to help me." I put the lid back on the box and take a final step away from it. If I was being completely honest, I already feel my resolve weakening.
I mean, it was such a nice dress and it would just go back into storage where it will be lonely… It's a selfish move on my part to even consider wearing it. Yet, really I'd just be putting it to use considering that it was made to be worn.
I take the lid off, take it back out, and display it on my bed.
"It would look great on me." I persuade myself, "you'd look like a princess and Evie Elma has always wanted to be a princess."
Sold.
Why is it that friends of Serena van der Woodsen have to search for her suitor? Have fables fallen so out of fashion that the Princesses have to do everything themselves? Call us old school, but sometimes the Fairy-tale ending require the Knight to get off his ass and saddle up his steed. If a certain Bass can do it, why can't everyone other beast in the Kingdom?
XOXO Gossip Girl
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The 'exciting' thing that Blair would rave on about is that, with masquerades, you won't even know who some people are. So she made a point to make sure that we all turned up alone. I didn't really understand, puzzled at how a mask will be able to mask every single identity but I didn't really see the point of complaining until I realized that I was trying to hail a taxi in a ball gown. Alas, eventually I got to the venue. People everywhere were adorned in various wigs and overlarge jewels as well as elbow length gloves and the array of different masks. Despite my previous convictions, I can't spot any of my friends in the crowd and head inside, assuming that they're already socialising.
The inside of the hotel is glitzy and very 'Pride and Prejudice', its sparkling features balancing out the dark décor, creating an atmosphere of magic and intrigue. A seductive bland plays over the speakers and I secure my plain white mask, making my way over to the bar by the entrance - which I remain at until Nate finds me. Being the first lady in waiting, I immediately apologise on behalf of Blair. He just laughs, saying that he would never expect anything less from her. After that he takes off, and I grab my second champagne flute before walking across the foyer and towards the dancefloor. Stray feathers from accessories spot the floor, adding to the weird effect of the party. I step over them, careful not to let one of my thin strappy heels slip and cause me to break my ankle.
"Ironic, isn't it?" I feel my back tense up as the voice of the Devil speaks behind me, I turn around and almost cry out with laughter. In a red tux and novel red horns, Chuck Bass is dressed as Old Nick himself. Typical. He playfully grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles, "The Devil and the Angel. You must be my lucky night." I shake of the image of last week and pull my hand away. He continues to stare at me, eyes penetrating through the mask and my glittery eyes before wandering down my dress. The corner of his lips turn up in his infuriating smirk. "With taste to boot."
"Apparently not. As I'm standing here and talking to you." I turn to leave but he grabs my wrist, spinning me back around to face him and pulling me in just a bit more. I can already smell him and floods of pictures wash in of my hands in his hair and his arm around my waist and-
Stop it. Stop it now. This is why I had avoided him all week: there is something wrong with me.
"Aren't you going to at least thank me?"
I scoff, "Thank you for what?"
A derisive laugh escapes his lips and he shakes his head in playful disbelief. He gestures to my dress and his smile widens at my clueless look. And then it hits me.
Something to wear tonight, so I know where to find you.
-B
"The note said 'B'," I argue, causing him to laugh more at my embarrassment, "How was I meant to know that is was 'Bass' and not 'Blair'?" I tell myself that I wouldn't have worn the dress if I knew, but there's this nagging voice in my mind that is chuckling demonically, telling me that I would've done it for his reaction, for him to notice me.
The thought makes me want to be sick.
"It doesn't matter now," He says, eyes twinkling beneath the pronounced mask, "you're wearing it. Which means that I at least deserve one dance with you, before the rest of the peasants realise that you're the most beautiful one here.
"Ha-ha," Sarcasm laces my words but I can't help the little turning up of my lips escaping onto my face, "Fine. But only one. And then I'm going to the bathroom and swapping dresses with the first girl I see."
Chuckling, Bass tightens his arm around my waist and ushers me towards the dancefloor. There are some couples swaying in time with the music, too engrossed in conversation to really dance, and then there were the people that I would preferred to dance with, who were just bouncing up and down, doing whatever they like. That seems like fun, there's no pressure to perform, unlike now. With one hand on my hip and the other in my hand, Chuck moved me along, the Devil leading and me just following him.
It was strange to think about all that has changed in the past month. To think about Serena and Blair and the drama they've caused. As well as the change in character, in motives, of the friends I have known for years. Since I last saw him before the Sheppard wedding, Nate has grown more closed off, more thoughtful – and not like the insolent teenage boy that led Blair on for so long in hopes of getting with Serena. Whilst Blair herself has changed in subtle ways, her displays of social power have become more of a cry for help. Specifically crying for Serena who's more grown up then I'll ever give her credit for. It's hard to think that a year ago we'd be ditching Blair to party with strangers and now, so much has changed. Except for Chuck Bass, who's the same entitled rich boy, desperate to win me over, desperate for all things he can't have. It's safe to say that little has changed with Bass, even his hair has stayed the same. And yet, sometimes, very rarely, in moments like last week when he carried me to the limo, and the week before when he saved Nate from getting beaten up, something extraordinary happens and I no longer hate him.
Staring curiously into his dark eyes, I'm looking for that change because nothing seems right with us anymore. Nothing fits the way it should and I don't know why.
"You've been avoiding me." He spoke after a while. I hadn't realised time had passed until the first song has changed.
"Have I?" I whisper, barely aware of what we're talking about.
"Yes, you have. And I have to admit, I don't like it. I want you to stop doing it."
"Fine. But you have to stop doing this."
"Whatever do you mean by 'this'? Because I certainly do not know what you're talking about, Angel." He leans closer as he speaks, mouth becoming inches away from mine and his eyes hooded seductively. I want to pull away but my ghastly pride gets in the way and I refuse to budge.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Last weekend was a mistake Chuck, let it go. It never should've happened."
"But it did." He insists, pulling me closer, "And I can't just let it go, I'm Chuck Bass."
A moment of silence passed between us. Uncertainty was a wash of nausea. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with Chuck Bass, or Max from 3B, or boys in general. Instead I just wanted to get through Constance Billiard and Stanford, save up enough to live somewhere different like Mexico City or Barcelona, read good books. What didn't help was the thought that's been in the back of my mind ever since I woke up in Bass' bed, the idea that with all the changes that have happened, maybe Chuck would change to.
"Evie!" I pulled away from my thoughts when Blair Waldorf, adorned in black fabric and a sparkly tiara, storms over with menace and vengeance in her eyes. "Have you seen Nate? It's almost midnight and I can't find him or Serena anywhere."
I pull back from Chuck but he still hovers, making sure that I don't escape, seemingly determined to see whatever he has planned through.
"No, I'm sorry, I haven't." She storms off and I turn to Chuck, who watches her leave with a snarky look on his face. "I know that look, what do you know?"
"Just secrets, a great deal of them." He sighs, puling me back in and dancing some more, as if it were a normal thing. "But none for ears like yours."
"Why not?"
"Because it will ruin your night, and that's the last thing that I want to do."
I didn't know what to say to that. So I didn't say anything. Instead, I let him slowly move me about in what I can assume is dancing, in our own thoughts for the majority of it. Sometimes, I'd catch him staring down at me and he'd smirk nonchalantly, and when I asked why he was smiling like that, he didn't answer me, he just muttered something about 'dance partners' and 'jealousy'.
By our ninth song it was almost time to take off our masks and end the night. Surprisingly, I was apprehensive, scared that this Handmaiden's tale would strip away completely and I'd be left with the Bass I never liked, rather than the one I could dance with for a prolonged period of time without wanting to kick him. I have to admit that it was a nice feeling to dance with someone. It's been a long time since I've felt real intimacy with someone other the Serena and Blair. But I'm not saying that Chuck is that real intimacy, because he most certainly isn't, only that it's nice to pretend that you've got a date to a dance and that you've got the easy job of being oblivious to certain things. With the masks on, we can be anyone. Chuck chose to be the Devil and I, for once, decided to be the angel.
I open my mouth to say the words I've been dying to say for almost a year- but the clock chimes and the other partygoers around us squeal in delight. I look around and spot Blair, sullen and stricken as she glares daggers at Nate, who's only just arrived, her plans a failure. And then I look back at Chuck, who has a smirk on his face. His warm hand leaves my waist, leaving an annoying feeling of absence in its place, and reaches around the back of my head, undoing the tie of my mask.
Pulling it completely away, his eyes bore into my face and rest on my lips, which I subconsciously wet. I've seen that look from boys enough times to know what's about to happen. It's just a question on whether or not I want it to happen. Mere seconds go by before Chuck begins to lean in, his mask falling away also. Our lips become so close that I can smell the gin & tonic that he'd had before and become so close that I can almost taste it before I hit the mental wall and get knocked back into reality.
What was I thinking? All these thoughts of change and Chuck and changing Chuck and everything in between would lead to nowhere but silly ideas. Why, after everything, would Chuck-Freaking-Bass be the one to pick up the pieces? The idea was downright laughable and trying to make it exist is clearly futile.
"What are you thinking about, Angel?" Chuck whispers, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine.
"Leaving."
"Then why aren't you?" Smugness layers his words like syrup.
"I was just about to." I bite back, completely ready to drop it. I begin to pull away intent on being done with Mr Bass for a long time, but I should've know better than to wish for simplicity. This is Chuck Bass we are talking about.
"Now, now, Evie. Play nice." He's right. Play nice. This is a game, isn't it? That's what been missing, the element of competition that we'd forgotten about – or at least what I've forgotten about. It all fits back into place, and yet again I'm left the mockery.
"You're good, Mr Bass." I commend, tongue-in-cheek. "I keep seeming to find myself in these situations with you despite my diligence to stay out of them."
"Well you know what they say 'think of the Devil and he shall appear'."
"I think it's 'speak of the Devil'."
"Angel, you can do anything you like with the Devil."
Nate chooses this opportune moment to come over and tell us that our limousines have arrived.
"I didn't interrupt anything, right?" Nate asks at which Chuck says 'yes' whilst I say 'no'.
Blair is waiting outside with her arms crossed firmly. I walk straight over to her and link her arm in mine.
"Where's Serena?" I ask and Blair just huffs and puffs more, indicating that she has other things to worry about then Serena. "Did Nate not make it?" She shakes her head, the brunette curls escaping her tiara.
"What about you and Chuck? Everyone said that you'd been dancing with him all night."
With Nate and Chuck just a few paces behind us, I lower my voice, "I'll admit that I was. But it's all just a part of this game which I'm starting to regret more and more."
"Then why don't you?" Suddenly, Blair stops in her tracks and turns to face me, determination and upset making a dangerous mix on her features, "Why don't you stop playing all these games Evie? Stop playing pretend. Because I know that that is what you've been doing for the past month. You've been playing this character and we all know it, even Chuck. That's why he's so intrigued by you. If you just tell us what happened at the Sheppard wedding you won't have to play the game anymore. And we can all move on."
I stand there in silence, shocked. Blair's spur of honestly leaves be battled and a little heartbroken.
"This is me." She says, gesturing to the stretch that waits patiently for her. Nate begins to follow behind her, saying his goodbyes to Chuck when- "Nuh-uh. No, you didn't find me by midnight. No happily ever after for you… I wanted us to start over, and you didn't even try." With one last gloomy look she gets in the car and drives away leaving us to our own pathetic devices. Sighing, shoulders limp in defeat, Nate begins to walk. And then there were two.
"Let me walk you to your cab." Chuck offers, hands in his pockets, my personal space unthreatened. I reluctantly nod and we head down the opposite direction to Nate in a surprisingly comfortable silence.
"About what Blair said-" Chuck begins when we're almost there, but I cut him off sharply and hurry to the cab.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"I know." He grabs my elbow, releasing it as soon as I slow down, "Evie, I know. But when you do want to talk about it, I'll be here." He opens the yellow door of the taxi, giving the driver enough money to cover the fare and waving off my protests, "Don't be an idiot if you think I'm letting a girl like you go without owing me something in return."
I take in a deep breath, heart involuntarily skipping a beat. "And what's that 'something'?"
And, like a fairy-tale, Chuck's lips press once against mine, soft and sweet and all too welcome, before he stepped back, gave me a nonchalant salute, and walked away.
I was left with a numb sensation on my lips and a pit in my stomach that accompanied the dreaded thought that the storm would blow me away at any minute.
The night is over and it looks like Evie's carriage is about to turn back into a pumpkin. How long did you really expect your little fairy-tale to last, E?
Tick-tock, tick-tock…
XOXO Gossip Girl
