Upper East Side, in a way, is society's open-air, life's high school. Though couples openly have affairs with each other (and are widely discussed, especially on Gossip Girl's blogs), very few 'make it official, seriously' at social gatherings.

Gossip Girl's most memorable moments include: It Girl Serena van der Woodsen and her on-and-off artist-slash-writer boyfriend, Brooklyn 'Lonely Boy,' Dan Humphrey, both of whom show up pretty frequently at parties and balls, sweetening up the atmospheres during the 'on' moments and spilling tears the others; UES's Blair 'Queen Bee,' Waldorf and her (regrettable) ex (but still quite notable and a classic with wide family connections among the New York elites), girls' target crush, UES's Nathaniel 'King Nate,' Archibald, both of whom, separated by UES's official playboy and underage drinker, Charles 'Chuck,' Bass, retain a small possibility of getting back together.

The only exclusion from our list, perhaps, is that brief period when Queen Bee 'steps down,' to the Bass, a secret union, secretly formed, secretly broken, and secretly preserved by secret attempts at getting back together, to a reunion Nate Archibald marked he, 'has never heard Chuck Bass said of to anyone.'

The secret union which has rarely gone public—interrupted by tragic moments of Bart Bass's death, ironically a magnet attracting the unlikely couple back again.

As far as Chuck Bass's concerned, the date has been made, the appearance planned, and her dress and his tux chosen to match. What's the surprise?

Blair and Chuck. Chuck and Blair. The Classic Official Appearance.

Since the age of Dating An Archibald, appearing in public with another Upper East Sider has never been excruciating to this degree, noting that particular person to be Chuck Bass.

I'll admit I have (no, wait, am forced to) given in to Mom and phoned him. Been grudgingly choosing dresses this morning, however.

"It has to match, Blair," advices my designer mother, "You're appearing together, that's the point."

Thanks so much, Mom, for never commenting on even one of my life necessities other than dresses.

Together. Ugh…disgusting thoughts.

Disrupting my perfect rendition of a dream…of a world without Chuck Basses.

Usually I stand opposing to the Fates' mingling with my life threads, but I can't say how much grateful I am for this once.

The cell ringing in the morning is the first peculiar event on the list, to clarify. And it's who else but Blair.

"Chuck? It's Blair. We need to talk."

As much as I despise those four words, I find myself answering back. "About what, Waldorf?"

There's a huff as she rapidly recites, in a matter-of-fact tone, as if addressing a weather report, "The Party. You're going as my date. And no one else's. Just because Eleanor said so, though." The last sentence's speed seems to increase by the max.

Even more surprising is the afterwards abrupt click.

She's hung up without giving me a chance to disagree. (Like I would. There's always a possibility of—oh, you know me.)

"Aimee," I call, my little French doll snapping to attention from her reading of my schedule (or is it hers?) "Hand me the party invitation."

She gives me a black card with white lettering.

You are cordially (I hope she means it. Which means she most likely does not.) invited to:

Save the Planet Party (What else is she going to come up with? Soon we'll be saving practically every creature on Earth, and, maybe, the butterflies.)

Hosted by Blair Waldorf

Dress Code: Upper East Side Fashion

Bring: Candles! It's an Earth Hour party—lights off! Find your date before lights on at midnight. (Hmm. Do I detect a plot similar to that of the masked ball last year? No, not at all.)

Reminder: Bring this glow-in-the-dark (Okay, cool.) invitation or else you will not be permitted entrance.

"So?" Aimee asks, hands on her hips, as I flip back my cell again, "Anything I should know?"

Grinning, I say, "Let's get to it."

Save the Earth and tape that ass, baby.

A/N: Lights off! Let's see what's up next…

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