Author's note: I feel I should warn readers that the story is taking a rather sinister turn in this chapter. Don't read if you aren't comfortable with that. This is not a fluffy story; at least not yet. :)

Also, sorry it's taking longer than usual to update. I'm taking many classes this semester, and frankly, these chapters are harder to write than the earlier ones. Enjoy!

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Chapter Sixteen: The Song of Songs

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"I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love."

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--Song of Solomon שיר השירים

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Blair had been watching her two best friends in the ballroom. She had always had a sense and appreciation for the irony of things; she smiled a bit when she saw how easily Dan and Serena could put their problems behind them and happily resume their relationship, effortlessly, as if they had never been forced apart by many insurmountable problems. But then again, all their problems had been external, she reasoned; imposed by family and society. When it was just the two of them, they got along easily and perfectly, and always happily. She and Chuck had faced no such restraints after her relationship with Nate had ended. The problem was Blair and Chuck themselves. She stopped smiling as she arrived at this conclusion and sat down heavily at the top of the grand staircase.

She saw Serena say goodbye to Dan and try to make her way through the crowds towards Blair. She had on a lemon silk gown that seemed to enhance her natural glow and set off her brash, golden hair.

Well, Blair thought wistfully, Serena always finds a way to be happy.

"Blair!" said Serena from the bottom of the staircase. "What are you doing up there?"

Blair shrugged. "Thinking."

Serena climbed up the staircase and perched herself on the top step next to her friend.

"About what?" she inquired.

"Nothing in particular," Blair sighed. "Well. There's one thing I might as well mention. Nate likes me."

"I know," smiled Serena. "Didn't you also know?"

"Yes, but I didn't realize the extent of it."

Serena looked at her questioningly.

"He sort of proposed to me," said Blair matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"Hmm, yes," said Blair. "I think it's a bit premature." She paused. "Or overdue, depending on how you look at it."

Serena looked confused. "You're taking this very…calmly."

Blair sighed again.

"Um, what did you say?" Serena asked after a moment; she had still not recovered from her shock.

"Regarding what?" asked Blair.

"His proposal, of course!"

"Oh. I agreed to start dating again," Blair replied. "I didn't take the whole marriage thing seriously, obviously."

"Well," said Serena after a moment of thought, "that's great! Nate gets a little overenthusiastic sometimes." She smiled at Blair brightly, whose expression remained neutral.

"Isn't it?" She faltered a bit.

"It would be if I liked him."

"You don't?" asked Serena, apparently disappointed. "Not at all?"

"No," said Blair sharply.

"Why not?"

"Oh, please, Serena."

"You've always liked him," Serena pouted. Blair could see that her friend was annoyed with her. It was rather mystifying.

"I did," Blair replied. "And then I grew up."

"B, you only stopped liking him because you fell in love with Chuck Bass—"

"That's precisely what I mean."

"Oh, no, Blair," Serena frowned, "I thought you were getting past that."

Blair snorted. "A month in France and I forget all about him? Was that what you had in mind?"

"Something like that," Serena muttered. "Honestly, Blair, he's not worth it; you can't keep beating yourself up like this."

"I'm not beating myself up anymore," asserted Blair. She was still white. "But I have to believe that he is worth it."

"Why?" asked Serena, exasperated.

"If he's not worth it, then I'm not worth it either."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"He and I are the same," Blair explained with calm conviction. "I don't expect you to understand. But I could never be happy with someone like Nate. With him, I was always pretending, always putting on an act; I was trying to be princess Blair, high-society Blair, Blair the Yale student…" she trailed off, uncertain how to make her meaning clear to Serena.

Serena wrung her hands in frustration, and exclaimed: "I don't understand why you can't just…put Chuck behind you, and find someone else to be happy with!"

This was a solution that might work for Serena Van Der Woodsen; but not for Blair Waldorf. The truth is, thought Blair, that despite her standing in society, her wealth and her beauty—Serena was a very ordinary person. She could never fully understand her best friend, never begin to grasp the complex web of insecurities, memories, experiences, the fierce intelligence, all the inherent contradictions of her personality and all the deep flaws that made up her identity. Dan had come a bit closer; he knew what is was like to be an outsider, to always have to struggle to fit a mold one was expected to fill. She recognized this empathy and so she allowed him to see a more vulnerable side of her than she would even expose to Serena.

But there was only one person in the world that understood her fully. And though she might hate him right now—she certainly had good reason to—their bond was more powerful than any such transitory emotion. She thought, suddenly, of a quote from a book she had read for her English class by Elie Wiesel:

"The opposite of love is not hate; it is indifference."

She would never be indifferent.

"Serena," she said abruptly, still reeling from the force of her revelation, "I'm going home."

"What? It's only eleven—"

"I'm tired," she said firmly.

"It's your own engagement party!"

"I'm really tired, S," said Blair pleadingly, putting on a puppy-face to manipulate her soft-hearted friend. "Please. I'm exhausted. Will you please say goodbye to everyone for me?"

Serena relented. "Even Nate?"

"Especially Nate."

Serena sighed.

Blair got unsteadily to her feet and climbed down the marble staircase carefully in her high silver heels, only wobbling a bit. She went out the front door without a glance back. Serena watched her leave with a slight frown.

Blair shivered when she got outside. She was not impervious to the cold anymore. She had forgotten her coat, but she kept going, unwilling to return to the Palace and retrieve it, as if going back into the warmth and company of others might undermine her determination. She was not headed home, of course. She had an errand to run; one that would require some courage. She hobbled along slowly in her painful shoes. Her destination was not very far away, and she doubted she would get lost, though she was not very familiar with the area. She had never been here alone at night.

As she made progress down the dark and winding streets, the lights and sound of revelry from her own engagement party faded and dimmed. She could hear nothing but the occasional car that drove by, the wind whispering in the trees. She was passing the bar now, she realized, the one where she had danced, so long ago—she repressed the memory. The night here was so silent and still. The street was lit only by the occasional streetlamp, which illuminated the young girl's thin figure, her shimmering blue dress, her thin shoulders, the jewels clustered in her hair and on her neck.

She heard a noise suddenly; a thud, something like quiet footsteps behind her. She tensed; she felt a rush of adrenaline and the blood pounded in her ears—she sped up, trying to walk as swiftly and as softly as possible. It was impossible in those shoes.

An animal—it looked like a cat—darted out from behind a trashcan, upsetting the metal lid that lay beside it on the ground so that it made a clanging noise against the concrete.

Blair felt a moment of relief. Perhaps the cat was all she had heard.

Her mouth puckered in distaste. She did not like this neighborhood; it was almost slummy. Why would Chuck come live here?

When she had all but relaxed, she heard the footsteps again; closer. In horror she strained to listen; there was more than one pair, and they were walking quickly. As the cat dashed across the street, alarmed by the noise of the metal lid, Blair heard a snicker.

Oh no, she thought, oh no no no no. This isn't happening.

She walked even faster; the strangers behind her also picked up their pace.

"Where are you going, baby?" She heard a man's voice behind her. "Where are you running off to?"

"Why in such a hurry?" A different voice. "We've got all night." She heard some dark laughter.

How many are there? She thought hysterically. She felt dizzy with fear; she was breathing in short, sharp bursts and her lungs were straining for air.

There was a streetlamp about ten feet away; she ran towards it and the light it afforded. When she reached it she looked back; she saw three men lurking in the shadows, approaching slowly, predators circling their prey. One smirked from

within his dark hood.

And that was when she began to scream.