A/N: Yup, so it's been a while. This chapter is another transition chapter, leading up to a more eventful one for the upcoming chapter. It's good to see a lot of you were so surprised at the break-up! What do you think will happen next! Will Seth be able to win Blair back? Will they finally be able to sort out their differences? Let me know what you think while I work on the next chapter to detail Blair and Serena's adventures at the MET gala :)
"What did I just do?"
Seth knew he had made the biggest mistake of his life the moment he arrived at JFK. He wasn't really sure what had gotten into him. Actually, he pretty much regretted it the second the words left his mouth. He replayed the moment over and over again in his head just to make sure it had really happened – Blair yelling at him, basically challenging him to break up with her after treating him like dirt in front of her friends in New York, and his own spontaneously heroic moment when he finally decided that today of all days he would try to be a man and tell her he was done fighting for her. He shook his head as he glanced at the closed ticket counter, realizing that he should have just gone back to the hotel to spend a night there until the next available flight, which happened to be not until nine o'clock the next morning. He sighed heavily and tried to position himself in a way that would allow him to lie down as comfortably as possible, given that all he had to work with were hard, plastic seats.
This was going to be a long night.
He tossed and turned and fidgeted, trying to decide whether or not he had actually definitively broken up with Blair Waldorf, who happened to be the most amazingly brilliant human being he has ever met. He threw himself upright, reverting to a sitting position again as he frowned at his own stupidity. "Maybe it's for the best?" he repeated to himself aloud, using the same words he had used when telling Blair that he was ready to give up. He sighed again. Who was he kidding? It was a dumb, impulsive, dick move, and Blair was probably never going to forgive him for leaving her all alone in Central Park as he walked off without even bothering to look back in her direction.
He glanced at his cell phone – 2:03 a.m. Blair was probably asleep, or partying it up somewhere hip on the Upper East Side, surrounded by a million trust fund kids vying for her attention. That, or she was alone with her drop-dead gorgeous ex-slash-current-boyfriend Nate, who would console her about what a lucky escape she's had getting rid of that dork from Newport. He shook his head at his own thoughts, fearing that he was losing his mind. He contemplated calling her to take back everything he'd said, but realized that he didn't have her number in New York – don't call me, I'll call you – and slouched back into his seat. His heart pounded against his chest furiously as he realized with a sinking feeling that he may just have lost her for good this time.
After closing his eyes and counting to six hundred and seventy-two sheep, Seth finally gave up on trying to sleep and decided to take a stroll in the empty airport instead, in search of anything at all that may help take his mind off Blair. He had only taken about fifty steps when he saw an old couple, sitting together hand-in-hand on a set of seats nearby. The looked around seventy, their hair white as snow, their faces covered with paper-thin skin that wrinkled just about everywhere. He stood where he was and watched them for a moment, admiring the amount of determination it must take to build a relationship that lasts through the ages. He continued to pay attention as the old man gently removed his hand from his wife's grasp, only so he could reach over to drape his jacket over her to keep her warm while she drifted to sleep. He knew he was spying in on a very private moment between the couple, but he just couldn't seem to step away from the tender scene. He briefly wondered whether he and Blair would ever be fortunate enough to grow old together. The thought of it brought an actual pain to his chest, and he placed his palm over it to will himself to stop thinking about her for, just so he could get some temporary relief.
The whimpering noises he made as he rested his closed fist against his mouth must have been louder than he thought, since it had managed to wake the old woman from her sleep. The next thing he knew, he was sitting beside the couple, detailing his relationship with Blair to them as if their last names were Atwood.
"So she's like, standing there, looking right past me as if I were a ghost, and the next thing I knew she was getting into a cab, telling me not to call her. I was in New York, which was like, my ultimate dream for as long as I can remember, and I couldn't even enjoy all the comic book landmarks 'cus my girlfriend left me behind to cater to her drunken, irresponsible frenemy. I mean, what is that?" Seth rambled on. He looked at them impatiently as the two of them shared a look. "And this is where you're supposed to give some kind of indication that you've been listening to me."
The old man moved his hand to his ear to adjust his hearing aid. "Sorry, son. I keep forgettin' to change the darn battery on this thing."
Seth rolled his eyes, Blair Waldorf-style. "I SAID, SHE JUST LEFT ME THERE! ON THE STREET! ON THE CAB!"
"She gave you a cat?" the old man asked, his eyes widening in surprise.
Seth sighed. He was starting to lose his voice from all the shouting. He didn't even know why he'd bothered telling them his story. Maybe he just wanted another perspective on the shitty way things ended. To his surprise, his paranoia was interrupted by the sound of the old lady's voice – her first time speaking all night.
"Sounds to me that you're just being a whiny little bitch," the old woman replied matter-of-factly.
Seth looked over at her in shock. "Excuse me? I'm a whiny little bitch? And did you just – swear?" he asked dramatically. He shook his head quickly and got over it. "I'm not sure whether you heard the whole story right – she brought me here, then left me all alone to deal with her crappy so-called friends, and then ranted for like, ten minutes about how people like her don't settle with canned tuna like me," he explained, making a face as he said the words. "And I'm the little bitch?"
The old woman sighed impatiently in response. "You mean you insisted on coming with her even though she told you she would be busy taking care of things with her friends – who you have no business judging, by the way – and then when she did leave you behind so you could be free to get a tour or New York and enjoy the city without tagging along as she did her business, you threw a huge hissy fit because she didn't call you to ask whether you'd changed your diapers yet. So yes, you are the little bitch." She reached over to wipe the drool that was hanging from the edge of her husband's mouth.
"What? Can you believe – " he gestured frantically at the old man, trying to get some rapport from him. "Are you even listening to this?" he cried in disbelief.
"Eh? Whatever the lady said – she's right," he answered, flashing a prize-winning smile at his wife. The old woman returned an equally shining smile, then turned to Seth with a self-satisfied smirk.
"That doesn't count. The guy's completely deaf. He had no idea what you said," Seth objected.
"Hey you be careful there young man. Ain't no one go around callin' me deaf, ya hear? I can hear just fine. Yer lil' lady left ya and now ya can't quit whinin', right? That the gist of it?" He looked at Seth meaningfully, who had been left speechless by the man's sudden recovery. "Look, son. If there's one thing I learned growin' up to be all wrinkly and grey, it's that the woman is always right. Yer wrong, ya say sorry. She's wrong, ya still say sorry. Ain't nothin' too complicated about it."
"I sure trained you well," the old woman replied, touching her husband softly on his nose as they stared dreamily into each others' eyes.
"That's it? That's your advice? That I should apologize, even though it was her who completely ignored me and made me feel out of place and inferior to her and her so-called elite friends?" Seth demanded. He wasn't quite sure why he was giving so much credibility to a quasi-deaf seventy-year old with a foul-mouthed wife, but he didn't really have many choices at four o'clock in the morning. "You don't even think it was a teensy weensy, little bit her fault that this whole thing happened?"
"Boy, she can't make you feel inferior if you didn't have any of that going on in there yourself. She chose you, didn't she? She thought you were good enough for her to be called her boyfriend, and good enough to take home for everyone to see, didn't she? I don't think those are the indications of someone who's ashamed. Now, hiding in a corner eavesdropping on your girlfriend and her ex-boyfriend, on the other hand…that's some insecurity right there," the old woman pointed out knowingly.
"Hey don't judge me. You haven't seen the guy – he's basically Ian Somerhalder meet young David Beckham. I'd challenge anyone to not have an inferiority complex around that guy," Seth shot back defensively.
"And so, you conveniently shoved her back into his arms by walking out on her when she's back in her own hometown, which is probably flooding with the memories of the two of them together. Smart move," she answered without skipping a beat.
Seth's heart stopped beating for almost a full minute as he realized that she was completely right. "So what do I do? I told her I was done fighting for her. It's done. I'm finished. I may as well walk myself back to the pond in Central Park and drown myself," Seth cried in agony, his head in his hands.
"Well, it ain't over until it's over," the old man spoke up again suddenly. He pointed a shaky finger to the TV, which was muted but was showing a news broadcast of the upcoming events on the Upper East Side. "Yer lady sounds pretty fancy. Any chance you'll find her there?"
Seth looked up at the screen to see clips of celebrities from last year's MET gala. There was Gwyneth Paltrow, dressed like she had just walked out of the shower for the previous year's "Wet n' Wild" theme. Seth knew enough about Blair to know that the MET gala was the single most important event of the year for socialites and B-list celebrities. It was just his luck that this year's gala had been postponed a couple of weeks and would be taking place later on that day – where he was certain that he'd be able to find Blair. He turned to the old couple again.
"So you think it's worth a shot? Even though it's clear to everyone that we're both from completely different worlds – literally?" Seth asked doubtfully.
The old lady snorted. "Look at us. I've been with this fella for over 50 years now, and he's still the same goofy, unambitious, laid-back puppy dog I knew when we first fell in love. I told him I was way out of his league – and he just chased me and chased me until one day, I was tired of running and fell into his arms instead. Sure, we're different. But that's also what makes us perfect for each other – he's my up when I am down. And at the end of the day, you can focus on what's tearing you apart, or what's holding you together," she finally finished, patting her husband lightly on the head as he nodded off to sleep on her shoulder.
"Um…yeah, that sounds really familiar. I think I've heard that somewhere before," Seth mumbled vaguely. He turned back to tell her that he had made up his mind to find Blair and fight for her until she changes her mind, but stopped when he realized that the old woman had also drifted to sleep, her head resting on top of her husband's. He left the two of them as they were, afraid to break their peace, and wondered whether it could really be that easy to sustain a relationship for half a century, simply by just focusing on what holds two people together.
Well, I guess I'm about to find out, he told himself as he stepped out into the New York air and hailed himself a cab.