The sun rose high in the sky, its relentless rays beating down on the Hamptons with incessant force. The air shimmered with the searing heat, as if the world itself had been thrown into a furnace. Even the ocean, usually a source of cool relief, seemed to lap lazily at the shore, as if exhausted by the oppressive hot weather.
On this scorching day, two best friends sought refuge on white sun loungers strategically placed beneath the covered porch of their summer retreat, from which they could gaze upon the sparkling swimming pool, its waters glimmering in the sun. Blair wore a white floral swimsuit embellished with saffron and myrtle green flowers, while Serena was attired in a cotton candy ribbed bralette bikini that accentuated her curves perfectly. In spite of the heat, both allowed their hair to cascade down. A small table stood between them, decorated with an array of fashion magazines, bottles of sunscreen, and the two mimosas they were indulging in.
Blair took a slow sip of her drink. In the day following Serena's revelation, the air had remained fraught, to say the least. Blair could see that Serena was making an effort, but it felt like she was trying way too hard to win back Blair's trust. The constant smile on her face and her relentless enthusiasm were exhausting. It was as if she was walking on eggshells around her, parading a happiness that no one felt.
Nate, the elephant in the room, was deliberately avoided to prevent the fragile equilibrium from shattering.
Since that fateful day, the quartet hadn't found themselves in the same place at the same time. Blair flatly refused to talk to Nate, and Serena was avoiding him at all costs. The only person who maintained a semblance of normalcy was Chuck, although even he seemed unsure of how to navigate the dynamics among the group. So, Nate and Chuck had gone their separate ways, while the two girls tried to rebuild what had been broken.
It was difficult for Blair to reconcile the image of Serena, the friend who had been her confidante through thick and thin, who had wiped away her tears and persistently tried to help mend her broken relationship and self-esteem, with the person who had kissed her boyfriend and, to some extent, harbored feelings for him—feelings that, according to Serena, were now firmly relegated to the past.
What role did Humphrey play in all this? Did Serena truly love him, or was it another one of her lies? Her obvious distress after breaking up with the Brooklyn peasant left Blair wondering whether it was the end of the relationship that hurt the most, or the irrevocable unraveling of the truth.
Her innermost instincts screamed at her to be cynical about human nature, yet this was Serena, her dearest friend. Despite Serena's history of lies and betrayal, Blair knew Serena as well as Serena knew her. Blair had promised herself she would try. She guessed she'd have to try a lot harder.
She could not, however, promise not to resent her for a very long time.
"So, what do you want to do tonight? Should we go out?" Serena asked with enthusiasm. "A girls' night out, a break from the boys for once."
"In this sweltering heat? Do you want us to melt away or something?"
"It'll cool down in a couple of hours. Come on, Blair."
"I'm not in the mood for a night out. But you can go."
"Alone? I need my best friend with me. We could go out, have a few drinks, dance until our feet hurt, and maybe even cross paths with some cute boys," Serena suggested in a playful tone.
Blair raised an eyebrow. Serena, catching Blair's reaction, quickly averted her gaze.
"Okay, okay. Then, how about a movie? One of Audrey's classics," Serena suggested, trying to salvage their plans.
"I don't know, Serena."
"Please, give me something here," Serena pleaded, her voice filled with eagerness.
"Alright."
"Yay!"
Blair took another sip of her mimosa, her glass nearly empty, and fully reclined herself into the lounger. Her fingers gracefully traced the stem, swirling the remaining liquid over and over again.
"Can I ask you something?" Blair shifted the topic.
What else was a farce between them? The question wouldn't leave her mind.
"Yes, of course. Ask away," Serena replied, her tone open and inviting.
"The night of the party… when you were crying in your room. Was it real? What you told me. Do you genuinely love Dan, or was it merely a distraction from… well, you know who."
Serena gazed at the horizon, her eyes unwavering. "You need to say his name, Blair. I don't know if we can survive this if you don't."
"It's still too soon."
"It'll never be the right time."
Her friend was right. Blair could delay it indefinitely, finding countless excuses to remain within the whirlwind, hidden in the eye of the hurricane, seemingly at peace. But she couldn't stay there forever. She needed to move on. There was no hope for them if she didn't. But how?
Serena carried on, her voice steady. "As for your question," she began, "it was a distraction… until it wasn't. As much as I loathe him at this moment, I can't deny that I love him. Still, everything I told you that night was true. You're the reason I want to be here. You know I love you."
Blair released a sigh she hadn't realized she was holding and finally relaxed.
"In that case, I can only pity you. I can't imagine anything more agonizing than being in love with Dan Humphrey of all people."
Serena smiled.
"Can I ask you something?" Serena reciprocated Blair's earlier question. It was her turn.
"Yes."
"Has anything happened with Chuck?"
Blair cleared her throat, caught off guard by Serena's question. "What? No," her voice wavered noticeably, and she started to laugh nervously, attempting to deflect her friend. "Why are you asking me that?"
Serena regarded her with a knowing smile. "I was just curious."
"Why? Did he say something?"
"No. He did not." Serena's eyes held a glimmer of mischief. "I saw the two of you sneaking in early the other morning. Let's just say you weren't looking your best."
"Well, thank you."
"Don't be upset. I'm not judging you. In fact, I'm glad you spent that awful night with him."
"We didn't spend the night together."
Serena cocked her head to the side, a doubtful look on her face. "Is that so?"
"Alright. We did," Blair finally admitted, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. She had tried not to dwell on that night, which had begun as one of the worst, but ended as one of the best. The memory came rushing back—the roar of the motorcycle, the exhilarating rush of speed, the wind against her face, her hands on Chuck's chest, her body pressed closely to his. Blair's blood rushed to her cheeks as she relived the moment. "But we didn't sleep together or anything like that," she clarified, her words slipping out before she could think of the implication.
Her best friend looked at Blair for a moment, her expression a mixture of amusement and intrigue. "Why would you say that?"
"Don't be absurd. It's just that… I know how your mind works, always jumping to conclusions. I wanted to set the record straight before you started imagining things."
Before Serena had a chance to say anything else, Blair stood up, grabbed the white and blue towel that was neatly draped over the back of her lounger, and continued in a brisk tone. "Well, that's settled then. I'm going for a dip in the pool. You can join me if you like, but I need to cool off."
Leaving her towel at the edge of the pool, Blair welcomed the cool, refreshing embrace of the water as it enveloped her body. It washed away not only the day's oppressive heat but also her lingering memories. Within minutes, Serena followed in Blair's footsteps.
Blair waded into the crystal clear water, searching for a spot where she could stand comfortably without having to fight for her life to stay afloat. She subtly adjusted her posture, unconsciously fidgeting with the straps of her swimsuit. An uncertain smile tugged at Blair's lips as Serena approached, but it faded almost as swiftly as it had appeared. The way Serena moved, with absolute confidence, was nothing short of mesmerizing. The vibrant Hamptons sunlight played on her skin, giving it a soft glow. At that moment, she could easily pass for a model.
Serena stood tall at the pool's edge, her endless legs accentuating her graceful figure, when Chuck came into view.
"Ladies," he greeted them, his voice carrying a hint of charm.
He wore red and white floral swim shorts that complemented his striped tank top, and a fashionable pair of sunglasses added a touch of style. Exuding a laid-back vibe, he casually draped his arm around Serena's shoulder, and she responded with an exaggerated sigh, playfully feigning annoyance.
Though Blair would never admit it, much less to herself, she had missed Chuck's presence. His banter, his sordid remarks and his effortless company had left a void in her over the past few days. Besides, the summer look suited him perfectly.
"Don't tell me you're actually considering taking a dip this time," Serena teased Chuck, fully aware of his penchant for staying dry. Whether it was the pool or the sea, Chuck usually preferred to remain on the sidelines, never allowing the water to touch him.
He lowered his sunglasses with a teasing glint in his eye, winking at Serena. "They say even the best of us have our aquatic epiphanies eventually, right?"
Serena chuckled softly at his remark.
Blair, standing alone in the water while her friends looked like a couple out of a magazine, held on to her elbows. The comparisons between them were inevitable. Uncomfortably exposed, especially in the presence of Serena and her innate grace, all Blair wished for was for her friend to join her in the water and bridge the gap.
"Weren't you with your friend?" Blair asked Chuck.
"I'd pick your company over anyone else's, Waldorf," he said, shifting his attention to her. "He wanted us to join his buddies for a game of basketball. I mean, who breaks a sweat in this scorching weather? If he's trying to do me in, I'd prefer to go out in style, not drenched like a pig in soggy sports gear," Chuck explained.
"Much less without that scarf of yours."
"You know me too well." Chuck removed his arm from Serena, allowing her to join Blair. He, however, sat on the edge, with his feet and part of his legs dipped in the water, not even bothering to remove his tank top.
After a while of inconsequential chatter between the three of them, Chuck still hadn't moved, his eyes hidden behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses. Relaxed and leaning back, he supported the weight of his body in his hands. What was he waiting for? Blair inched closer, each slow step revealing more of her skin until she was standing in front of him. The water had receded to just below her waist.
"Waldorf… Don't."
"Oh, yes."
Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a clandestine language that only the two of them understood. Blair could almost hear the unspoken challenge passing between them, like distant thunder rumbling on the horizon.
"Don't be such a child and come in. How was it? You had your life-changing epiphany, didn't you?"
"Let me ease into it."
Blair's lips curved into a sly smile as she continued to close the distance between them. "How much time do you need? Must I remind you of that dreadful helmet incident the other day? My hair still hasn't fully recovered."
His head moved slowly up and down, tracing the smooth, delicate contours of her body, while a deep, guttural groan ignited a fiery rush of ecstasy in Blair. Her heart pounded wildly; she knew she should put an end to this intoxicating dance. The taste of regained power, however, proved far too thrilling to give up.
"Poor you," he retorted as Blair halted between his legs. Chuck raised a hand, as if to keep her at bay. "Stop. Keep your little hands away from me."
"What's your problem? Just come in."
"I don't want to."
Blair leaned in even closer, her voice a sultry, whispered challenge. "The great Chuck Bass, afraid of water."
An intense magnetism was pulling them closer.
"I'm not afraid of anything."
Closer.
Their bodies were mere inches apart. Blair could feel the electricity crackling between them, a magnetic force that left a tingling trail on her skin, as if every nerve ending was awake and yearning.
"Prove it." Blair dared, standing on her tiptoes, unsure of the true meaning behind the words.
As the tension between them reached its zenith, Serena cleared her throat, causing Chuck to scramble to his feet with a quick, almost frenetic movement. He discarded his sunglasses and tank top, and then made his way into the pool.
Blair stood there for what felt like forever, breathless. What the hell.
Without warning, Chuck approached from behind, his strong arms wrapping around Blair. With a mischievous gleam in his eye, he lifted her off her feet. Then, in one swift movement, he playfully dunked her into the cool, refreshing water.
Blair, momentarily disoriented, resurfaced with a dramatic splash, her wet hair clinging to her face as she blinked away water. Laughter echoed around the pool as Chuck watched her with a mischievous grin, his earlier reluctance to enter the water now forgotten. Blair's initial shock transformed into infectious laughter, and she playfully splashed Chuck, turning the spontaneous dunking into a lively water brawl.
"You'll regret this one day," Blair cautioned while lightly poking his chest with her finger.
"There are so many things to atone for when it comes to you, darling. And you were the one who came after me like a bulldog. I'm only defending myself."
Serena, still watching, joined in the laughter at their playful exchange.
"Chuck!" Nate's voice cut through the air, echoing from inside the house. He stepped onto the porch, instantly shattering the spell that had enveloped the three friends moments before.
In that brief, fragile silence, everything changed. The water, which had moments ago cradled Blair in its cool, welcoming embrace, now felt icy and unforgiving. The laughter that had so recently graced the atmosphere hung in the air, forgotten. Blair involuntarily shivered, not from the water's temperature, but from an abrupt awareness that she was no longer wrapped in the cloak of their private universe.
Nate's eyes remained fixed on her. On her, and on Chuck. A storm of emotions raged behind his irises—surprise, confusion, and perhaps a hint of something more.
Chuck, as if guided by some unwritten rule, subtly distanced himself from Blair.
"Chuck, where did you put the basketball? I can't find it anywhere," Nate inquired, offering no formalities to the girls.
"I thought you had it in your room."
Nate's brows furrowed in response. "No, it's not there."
"You might want to check the game room where you spend like ninety percent of your time. I don't know. I'm not your maid, and I don't maintain an inventory of your belongings," Chuck replied, a sharp edge to his voice as he crossed his arms.
Serena, who had risen from the water like a naiad ascending from the depths, momentarily drew Nate's attention like a moth to a flame. Droplets of water clung to her form, each one sparkling like liquid diamonds.
"Hey, Serena," Nate greeted Serena, his previous inquiry now a distant memory.
Blair's heart sank, and the urge to cover herself returned with a vengeance. How had she ever thought she stood a chance against someone like Serena van der Woodsen? It seemed utterly delusional.
"Stop it." Chuck's voice cut through her thoughts like a lifeline.
"What?"
"Whatever you are thinking right now, put a stop to it."
"And what, exactly, do you think I'm thinking, Chuck?"
"There's nothing about her that you should envy."
Chuck was feeding her white lies, trying to appease her insecurities. It was a well-meaning attempt, but there was no way she could accept it as the truth. The way Nate was looking at Serena in that very moment was irrefutable proof of that.
As Blair attempted to make her way towards the edge of the pool, Chuck's hand darted through the water, clasping hers. He looked deeply into her eyes, his gaze resolute, and said with quiet sincerity, "Trust me."
What if he was right? The idea swirled in her mind, flickering like a fragile ember. But, no, it couldn't possibly be.
"And you're not going anywhere," Chuck insisted with a playful grin, "You got me in here, and now you're not going to leave me all by myself."
Blair, with a melodramatic shiver, replied, "I'm freezing."
Seeing through her dramatics, Chuck pulled her into deeper waters. At this depth, he could touch the pool's bottom while she couldn't, giving him the upper hand.
She struggled to free her hand from his grasp, her laughter bubbling up again. "No, no, no," Blair protested. "Not again."
Just as she was about to go under yet again, Nate's voice pierced the air, reminding her of his presence and leaving her in an awkward, frozen state. Blair clung to Chuck, her arm wrapped around his neck, desperately trying to stay afloat as his arm encircled her waist. Every point of contact between them crackled with tension under the intense scrutiny of her ex-boyfriend.
First Serena, now Nate. The universe seemed hell-bent on getting its message across.
"Guys," Nate repeated. "I'm heading out."
Who the fuck cared.
Nate seemed reluctant to leave them alone, his actions at odds with his words. Meanwhile, Serena was nowhere to be found. Where had she gone? Without a word, Chuck released Blair, swimming to the pool's edge and nimbly pulling himself out. His back muscles flexed as he stepped out, nonchalantly reaching for her towel, a fleeting mischievous glint in his eye.
Leaning in, he whispered something to Nate. Blair, still partially submerged in the pool, watched as her friend and ex-boyfriend exchanged hushed words. Then, Nate left with a nod, leaving the two of them alone.
Finally.
Blair emerged from the refreshing pool, a slight shiver running through her despite the relentless heat. That bastard had snatched her towel without her permission—no way she was going to hand it over willingly—and now it was all soaked and used. Gross. The concept of sharing towels like a bag of chips struck her as utterly distasteful, a sentiment reserved for those with a questionable sense of hygiene or those hailing from Brooklyn. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.
"Bass, bring me another towel," Blair demanded. "Quick."
With a sly grin, Chuck playfully opened his arms, as if inviting her to share her—now his—towel. "Don't you want this one?"
No, she most certainly did not.
"I'm not about to dry myself with a damp towel, let alone one that you've already used. It's repulsive."
"I must admit, your disdain is almost endearing."
"Endearing isn't the word I'd use."
"You didn't complain nearly as much when we slept together at the beach."
There it was again, that infuriating moment destined to haunt her forever.
"Fine, fine. I'll fetch you a fresh, untainted towel," Chuck conceded with a smirk.
Blair accepted the towel Chuck offered and began to dry herself. Chuck, in turn, held out her phone to her. He must have picked it up on his way back to get the clean garment.
"Looks like someone's been desperately trying to get in touch with you," he remarked.
Blair laid out her pristine towel on the grass and took a seat. Chuck, with a playful smirk, joined her while a mock expression of disgust crossed her face.
"Don't be such a princess."
The messages on her phone unfolded like chapters in a drama. Serena's plans to return for the Hepburn movie later, Nelly's invitation to a party tomorrow. "One for the ages," it claimed. Blair scoffed at the notion. The girl had never thrown a worthwhile party in her life. However, as she scanned further, the weight of five missed calls from her mother and one blunt message caught her off guard: "What a disappointment you really are."
Even in the Hamptons paradise, news of her and Nate had spread like wildfire. The Upper East Side's gossip mill never stopped turning.
"Is something wrong?" Chuck asked.
Blair sighed. "No. Serena disappeared until this evening."
Chuck nodded thoughtfully. "Surprising."
"And Nelly Yuki is throwing a party tomorrow."
"Are we going?" Chuck asked, his eyes fixed on Blair.
"Do you need my permission now?"
"Parties are pretty dull without you, Waldorf."
Blair, ever the skeptic, arched an eyebrow. "Flatterer."
Chuck chuckled softly. "Why do you always think I'm trying to flatter you? For the millionth time, I'm just speaking the truth."
Blair's expression softened as she looked at him. "Let me doubt that."
Chuck leaned closer. "Is there anything else?"
Blair hesitated for a moment, grappling with the painful reality of her recent breakup and the collateral damage it inflicted on her mother's meticulously crafted plans for her future. The weight of shattered expectations and fractured dreams bore down on her once more. After a moment's pause, she shook her head.
"Liar."
"It's just… It seems my mother has found out about Nate," Blair confessed.
"Shit."
"Yeah. Shit."
"Do you plan..." His words wavered, as if delicately testing the waters, reluctant to fully voice his thoughts. "Do you plan to get back together with him?"
"What? No," Blair asserted, her resolve firm.
If any doubts had dared to persist, what had just transpired between Nate and her best friend ruthlessly hammered the final nail into the coffin of their exhausting relationship, confirming all of Blair's fears and validating the resolutions she had etched into her heart. The bond they once shared was now fractured beyond the hope of repair, and no amount of pleading from Nate could mend the irreparable damage. The fantasy was broken, the dreams of her childhood destroyed.
Blair was determined not to play the role of the other woman in her own relationship, refusing to settle for the meager crumbs of affection just to preserve some ridiculous ideal of what the world expected her to be. She craved more, demanded more—a partner who would stand with her in the fiery pits of hell, a boy who would choose her unconditionally and without hesitation. Someone like…
"Do you think he wants to get back together?" Blair blurted out.
"I don't think—I know he's pining for a reunion. So, if you want him, there he is, free of charge. Consider it a gift, beautifully wrapped with a bow."
"Plus, a Serena accessory included," she scoffed, "No thanks, I'll pass."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! What's with all these questions? Do you want me to go back with him?"
"That has nothing to do with me."
"Answer the question, Chuck."
Silence hung in the air, a palpable tension weaving its way through the conversation. Chuck avoided her gaze, looking everywhere but at her.
"Do you?" Blair pressed.
"No."
