Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews! They are so encouraging! Let me remind everyone that this story is taking place some time after Bad News Blair. You know, the episode where Blair's mom screwed her over with the whole modeling for her fashion line thing. I hope you like chapter three. Enjoy.

Chapter Three
"See the look on my face
From staying too long in one place
But every time I try to leave
I find I keep on stalling
Feel like a big old stone
Standing by a strength of my own
But every time the morning breaks
I know I'm closer to falling."
-KT Tunstall

Ordinarily, when Blair found herself depressed or let down she channeled all of her emotions into finishing a specific task or into a different emotion all together; more often than not, anger. But when she got home from school that Friday afternoon she found that couldn't muster the energy to do either. Finding out that her best friend wasn't trying to help her in any way and that her boyfriend had no intention of talking to her at all drained her, and she was relieved to find her mother was out when she got home; no one to put on an act for.

Ignoring calls from Kati, Isabel, Chuck, and Serena, Blair put on a pair of sweats, tied up her hair, and scrounged up a bottle of vodka from her mother's alcohol cabinet. Armed with every Audrey Hep burn, Marilyn Monroe, Grace Kelly, and Ingrid Bergman movie she had, a box of vanilla truffles, a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips and her alcohol, she snuggled into her bed and sulked in all her misery.

Charade made her feel a little better. The mysterious suspense of romantic Paris and the dangerous thugs chasing after Reggie Lampert made her forget about her problems, if only for a little. When Cary Grant entered the picture she was reminded of Nate's heroic attempts at... At what? Smoking pot?

The bottle of vodka made her feel stupid and dizzy, especially after she finished the whole thing.

How to Steal a Million made her laugh.

The chocolate made her feel a little guilty and a little better.

Two for the Road got her wondering where she would be in twenty years, and also made her retrieve a whole new box of truffles from the Christmas stash.

Seven Year Itch made her feel desperate and Casablanca made her hate Nate a little more.

The entire bag of salt and vinegar chips, combined with the new box of chocolates made her feel sick and fat. But Breakfast at Tiffany's was what made her finally lose it all together, and she began to cry.

It was somewhere during Audrey's rendition of 'Moon River' that the tears began to slip silently out of Blair's eyes. At first she didn't even notice, but then she realized she couldn't properly see the television screen.

Instinctively, she began to wipe at her eyes, feeling the warm liquid seep into the sleeve of her sweatshirt. But the tears began falling faster, and the burning in her throat grew more furious. Finally, she succumbed to it. Her nose ran freely, her face was soaked in tears, and her body was racked by sobs. She didn't care though. She cried with everything she had. Listening to Breakfast at Tiffany's in the background, she sobbed until her throat ached and she had no voice left. She cried until her pillow was soaked. But even then, she continued crying.

The tears flowed for how Serena had so unjustly betrayed her, and for how she was still betraying her, little by little. She sobbed for how Nate was so disinterested in her and for how she felt as if no one was on her side, particularly the people she wanted on her side most. She cried for how her father had left, embarrassing her and her mother, making her mom some kind of a basket-case for weeks, and now she was some sort of unfeeling cyborg, more so than she had been before, but this made her cry harder because she truly missed her father. She cried for how her father hardly called her, for how he didn't even care about her anymore. And most of all, she cried because she felt hopeless and alone.

Convinced that nothing would ever go her way, that nothing would ever be okay again, Blair allowed herself to sink into the softness of her mattress and blankets. She allowed the crying to possess her, until she was in a sort of trance. She couldn't discern what was going on on the television or what was really running through her head anymore. She didn't care though. She just cried.

She didn't even realize what was happening around her until she realized someone's arms had encircled her body and whoever it was was speaking to her.

"Blair, honey, what is it?" it was her mother's worried voice that met her ears. "Why are you crying?"

There was such concern etched into her mother's voice, a feeling she hadn't known her mother could express anymore, that something inside her broke away and she clung to her mother's frame, hysterical. Eleanor Waldorf, though, was so shocked by her daughters behavior, worried and afraid that something was terribly wrong, that all she did was hold onto the sixteen year old's tiny, shaking body and stroke her hair.

Finally, Blair managed to choke out what had gotten her so upset in the first place, "Nate and I got into a fight... We hasn't spoken to me in days."

Eleanor's face transformed from concerned to angry, "Really?"

Blair nodded.

Her mother was silent for a few minutes, watching her daughter shake with silent sobs. Her eyes displayed no emotion except anger and determination. Blair was confused as to why her mother was so quiet. Just moments ago she had been comforting her and questioning her tears, now she was seeming to be lost in thought completely. All Blair wanted, all she needed, was someone to care for her and shelter her from the horrible people of the world. Sadly, her mother couldn't do that, and that made her cry even harder. There was no solution to this.

"Blair, dear," Eleanor cooed and Blair looked up, her eyes soaked and wilting. "Everything will be fine. Don't you worry."

Blair shook her head, "How could you know that, Mom?" her shoulders sagged. "How can I not worry?"

"Nate will realize his mistake soon enough, I assure you."

Blair was too distraught to realize how evil her mother looked in the dim lighting of her room, as she assured her daughter of things she just couldn't promise for sure.

"Don't you trust me?" Mrs. Waldorf asked.

Blair wondered if that was a trick question, but she nodded all the same.

Eleanor nodded too, satisfied, "Then trust me as your mother, everything will be all right soon."

Her daughter sighed, giving up, "Okay Mom, I trust you."

Eleanor stood up and headed for the door, "Now, I have to go out, I actually have a meeting I believe I'm late for," she smiled. "It won't be long, I'll be home before you know it."

Blair nodded, "Thanks Mom."

As her mother left the room, closing the door behind her, Blair sunk back into the pillows, even more defeated than before. Moments after she heard her mother leave the house, though, guilt and anxiety began to rush through her with such a fury that she felt nauseous. All those calories she had consumed were already sticking to her thighs, she could feel it. She bit her lip, nervous and angry. Nate would never look at her again if she became a fat and ugly cow, she reasoned. Before she could even prevent what she was doing, she had thrown back the covers and was racing toward the bathroom, finger shoved down her throat before she even reached the door.

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Dan was sitting on a blanket made of itchy wool. Or rather, Dan's dream self was sitting on said blanket. And sitting before him was Serena, dressed in a hot pink dress that barely covered anything Grandma Humphrey would call decent. Something told him, he wasn't sure what, that this dress was a wedding dress. She was also feeding him pieces of cake made of human eyeballs... Flaming human eyeballs. And he was happily munching them away.

"Daniel!"

A sad voice called him, but he kept chewing on his slimy cake.

"Daniel! Help me!" the voice sounded so desperate and upset that he turned his head and saw Blair Waldorf, dressed in a Victorian mourning dress, in a cage the size of a small room.

Dan stood up and walked over to the cage, Blair stared at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

She was crying and she pleaded, "Help them! Feed the children!" she pointed to a group of toddlers, dressed in rags, skinny and underfed with dirty fingers and big eyes. Again, something told him this group consisted of Nate and Chuck, and two of Serena's other friends, even though they were all probably under the age of seven.

Dan turned back to Blair, "I can't. But would you like some cake?"

Blair was growing angry and she grabbed hold of the bars of her cage and tried to rattle them, they were firmly in place, "Let them eat cake!"

"I can not."

Why? Dan asked himself.

"Why?!" Blair demanded.

"Serena makes a new cake again tomorrow."

Dan wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but for some reason Blair began to weep at this expression, and he marveled at how much she looked like a princess, or a future queen at the very least. Like someone who should be sitting on a thrown, regal and composed. He was going to say something to make her feel better, but before he could, quite suddenly, she fainted. His knees buckled a little and he leaned against the metal.

He grabbed hold of the bars, "Your majesty!?" he shouted. "You'll start a revolution!"

And with that, real Dan awoke.

He lay in the dark for some time, confused. Baffled by half the things that were said in the dream, he rubbed his forehead and sat up. Blair had looked like a Victorian doll in his dream. Like the girl he had envisioned for his poem. But he wasn't thinking of Blair Waldorf as his muse exactly, just someone that looked like her, he assured himself. In any case, he pulled his notebook out again and crossed out golden locks, replacing it with chestnut once again.

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When Blair woke up the next morning she felt horrible. Her room was a mess, with empty truffle and chip bags and DVD cases strewn across the floor. Her face felt sticky and puffy from all the crying she had done before she fell asleep, and her eyes were almost glued shut with the disgusting goo of the sandman. Knotted hair ran wild around her face and her sweatpants were drooping at her hipbones.

After quickly stacking all of the DVDs back into the entertainment center in the living room, she threw out all the garbage that had taken up residence on her floor and headed for her bathroom. She enjoyed a shower that bordered on scalding and steamed up all the mirrors and windows in the room. When she felt her head was clear and her body clean, she turned off the water and dried off with the fluffy lavender towels her mother had ordered from Turkey.

When she was dry Blair slipped into her robe and combed out all the knots from her hair. She did this slowly, enjoying the feel of the comb's teeth scratching against her scalp with an extremely calming effect.

Pulling herself away from the hypnotic happiness of hair brushing, she put on a pair of her tightest Hudson jeans and a thin, dark green Chanel sweater and settled into the noise of the hair dryer as she prepared her curls for the day. At nearly noon, when she was finishing her make-up she heard the lift downstairs open. Thinking it was her mother, she went back to her primping, that was, until she heard a voice that stopped her dead.

"Blair, are you home?"

Feeling as if her heart was running a marathon, she calmly put her mascara brush back into the tube and slowly walked out of the bathroom and through her room. In the hallway she took a deep breath and went to the top of the stairs.

"Nate?"

He looked up at her and smiled nervously, "Can we talk?"

Author's Note: As I said, there are many similarities to the book, but it is mostly based off of the TV series. Hope you liked this chapter! Sorry if it was too short! How about this week's episode of Gossip Girl? Crazy huh? Loves it.