Chapter Text
It’s April 1st when it all comes crashing down and, sure enough, Blair feels like a fool.
Because when she arrives at Constance she doesn’t see Serena at the entrance, and Serena also doesn’t return her texts; none of which, by itself, is out of the ordinary. Skipping class is one of Serena’s favorite hobbies, and it has become more of a common occurrence since she befriended that horrible Georgina girl. It is not rare for them to spend a night drinking too much and then the morning on a couch somewhere, passed out, both their phones dead.
But she also can't find Penelope or Kati or Isabel or even Hazel, and that is out of the ordinary. Blair tries to remember if there were some kind of April’s fools’ prank they were supposed to be playing, but she can’t think of any. She and Serena joked about starting a rumor involving Penelope having a shrine dedicated to Nate, but Blair doesn’t know how that would involve missing classes.
Whatever was happening, she clearly forgot about. And, since she is already at Constance, Blair doesn’t see a reason to go back home, especially when her attendance has been perfect so far. So, she spends the day by herself, going to classes and taking notes, as she usually does. The only difference is that, at lunchtime, she doesn’t go to the dining hall. Instead, she picks up the last letter Dan has left on her locker and goes to the steps of the MET, to read it while she eats her yogurt.
It’s much to her surprise that she sees them all there.
Serena never wants to have lunch at the steps of the MET. It’s too much work and too uncomfortable and just plain weird, according to her. Blair has accepted that, has accepted their lunches at the dining hall, and has only led the rest of the girls to the MET on the days Serena doesn’t bother showing up for class.
It’s less surprising how much it hurts. Blair knows it shouldn’t, knows it is something small and stupid and it shouldn’t matter, but it does. Because the MET has become her place; it’s where she goes when there is no Serena and she is the one everyone wants to be friends with, which doesn’t happen very often; it’s where she feels powerful. It’s something that is hers, only hers, and not Serena’s. She loves Serena, really, truly does, but she wants things for herself too, things she doesn’t have to share, things that are not hand-me-downs.
“What is going on?” Blair asks as she approaches the group, all surrounding Serena and laughing with their teeth because of something she said. “I’ve been looking for you, S. Did I miss some kind of memo?”
“Oh, look who’s here,” Serena gets up, easily posing with the sort of confidence Blair never actually felt, only faked. “The whore who’s trying to steal my boyfriend.”
“S?” Blair’s eyes water, never having heard such nasty words from Serena. Not directed at her, at least. Serena had perfected her nice act with the years to the point she could make anyone feel like dirt with her condescending remarks, but she was never just plain mean. She was never like Blair. “What — What are you talking about?”
Serena reaches for a discarded piece of paper on the steps, and Blair instantly recognizes it; its light pink color and gold trim making it impossible for her to be mistaken. Serena had one of the letters she wrote to Dan, one of the letters she wrote as herself, and Serena apparently has no problem in reading it out loud, for all the girls to hear.
“I’ve never opened up like this to anyone before,” Serena reads, rolling her eyes. “But you’re not anyone.”
Blair’s face feels like it’s burning, and she imagines it is probably redder than her headband. She tries to reach for the letter, but there’s no use. Serena is already taller than her and is on a higher step. The fact she moves her hand up, completely out of Blair’s range, just adds to the mockery.
Blair never had a chance.
“I often longed to find a kindred spirit,” Serena continues. “And I think you’re it. I feel like I can be my real self with you.”
“S, it isn’t what you think it is,” Blair pleads. “It’s really not a big deal. We just talk about things we can’t talk to you, like — like how you do with Nate! You two talk about sports and traveling around the world and — and California. It doesn’t mean anything, really, and I was just trying to be his friend. I thought you wanted us to be friends.”
“No, it seems to me you two are more than friends. You’re kindred spirits.”
“It’s all — it’s strictly platonic. You know I wouldn’t do that to you. I would never make a move on your boyfriend, and worse, hide it from you. What kind of friend would that make me?”
For a split second, Serena’s face softens. But as soon as the second is over, so is her understanding.
“I told you to stop with the letters, but you didn’t listen to me. And not happy to go over my orders, you also worked to make sure Dan would know I wasn’t the one writing them,” Serena crumples the paper, both hands working on destroying Blair’s words. “Your intentions could not have been clearer.”
Serena then throws the paper ball at Blair, hitting her square in the chest.
“I’m actually kinda happy you found him,” she says. “Because you surely lost me.”
Serena walks back to her place within the girls, resumes her laughing like Blair wasn’t even there.
Blair wants to explain herself, wants to say that that’s not how things happened, that she didn’t plan any of it, that she was in the middle before she knew she had begun. She wants to pick up the letter, wants not to cry, wants to ask for forgiveness. She wants to stay, to talk it out, to make it all better.
She leaves.
*
“So,” Dan says as he leans on the locker closest to Blair’s, getting on a roll she learned it’s difficult to get him out of, so she doesn’t even try. “I know you’re not too keen on being in the outs with me, but my dad’s gallery is holding this exhibition with Alaïs Zola, and she is supposed to be like, a contemporary Picasso without all the misogyny, and no one you know would ever set foot in Brooklyn, so we’d be totally safe. And even if, for some crazy, unknown reason, there is another Upper East Sider there that isn’t you, I’ve already come up with two different exit strategies for you and—“
Blair drops all of her stuff in her locker and forcibly closes it, the sound forcing Dan to stop talking. She turns to him, eyes red and puffy.
“What’s wrong?” he reaches for her hands, holds them in his. Dan’s hands are not like Nate’s; they are calloused and warm and he touches her with care, as if she was as delicate as she feels.
“How could you?”
“Think about the exit strategies? It was nothing. I work at my dad’s four days a week, so —“
“Not that,” Blair looks at him with her big doe eyes, feeling a kind of vulnerability she had never felt before, not even when writing to him. “How could you show Serena the things I wrote you? What possible reason could you have?”
Dan looks at her, furrows his brows and narrows his eyes, doesn’t seem to understand the damage his actions had caused. So Blair keeps going.
“Was it all part of an elaborate plan to humiliate me?” she lets go of his hands, too hurt to let him touch her. “If that’s it, you should be ashamed of yourself and, for once, it wouldn’t be because of where you came from; it would be because of what you did.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t show Serena anything. I never showed the letters to anyone.”
Blair huffs, clearly not believing him.
“Then how does she know about them? How does she have one of them?” Blair presses her eyes, stops the tears before they can fall. “She was making fun of it in front of all of my friends!”
“I don’t know,” he stammers. “I don’t. She… She was in the loft a couple of days ago. Maybe…?”
“Maybe what?” Blair snaps. “Maybe she picked one of them from the stack you leave unattended on the coffee table? Is that it? Because the fact you treat them like yesterday’s edition of the Times is just as bad as if you had shown it to her.”
“No,” he reaches for her, but Blair is quick to deflect this time. “I treat your letters with care, Blair. I keep them close to me, in my bedside drawer.”
“Oh,” Blair stops, taken aback. “So that’s where Serena found them, is that it?” she asks. “It makes sense she would go around your room like she owns the place. You two are dating, after all.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Yeah. Last time.”
“No, Blair,” he says, pointedly. “Nothing ever happened. I think maybe she wanted something to happen, but it didn’t. My physical relationship with Serena is no different from ours.”
“That’s not true,” she says, needing to be contrarian. “We never kissed.”
“Say the word and I’ll rectify it.”
Blair looks at Dan, who smiles tentatively at her. What she wants is finally in front of her, asking to be taken.
She doesn’t reach for it.
“So that’s your story? Serena entered your room without your knowledge and went around your stuff looking for something she could use against you for no reason at all?”
“I don’t know! Maybe,” Dan runs his fingers through his barely-there hair in frustration. “She always wanted to read some of my writing, but I didn’t want her to because — It doesn’t matter,” he sighs. “All I know is that I arrived home yesterday after work and she was waiting for me because my sister had let her in. And I’m not really sure, but I think she tried to seduce me and when I turned her down she left.”
“Right,” Blair says, clearly not believe anything is right at all.
“Come on, Blair. We both know Serena is exactly the type of person who would snoop your stuff in search of intel to be used on auspicious time,” Dan looks down, presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, tired. “And I mean, can you blame her? I just stopped writing her with barely an explanation. It makes sense Serena would try to figure out why.”
Blair takes a deep breath, tries to gather some time to think, as little as this time may be. Nothing adds up, and she feels so lost. It makes little sense to her, what Dan said. How could someone ever turn down Serena, for starters? It’s Serena van der Woodsen they are talking about, for god’s sake.
But also, Serena said she was the one who decided to stop with the letters. Even though she didn’t have to do anything, Blair and Dan being the ones doing all the heavy lifting. She wanted to stop because… Why did she want to stop with them?
Truth is, it didn’t matter. Serena had the higher ground, morally. And literally as well, since there’s a hierarchy for lunch at steps of the MET. Serena may have humiliated Blair, but Blair is not without a fault. And Blair knows that if what Dan implied was true, if Serena did go through his stuff, found her letter and keep it until it was the right time to use it, then Blair already lost. Because Serena always wins, no matter what they are competing for.
So Blair decides to leave with at least a bit of pride; she forfeits.
“Whatever this is…” she tells Dan. “Whatever is, was, or would happen between us, it’s over.”
“Blair,” Dan pleads.
“Don’t talk to me again. Never again. In person or paper,” she opens her locker to retrieve Dan’s last letter addressed to her, still unopened, and gives it back to him.
“I wanted it to be you,” he says, and Blair looks up, eyes locking into his.
“After my first date with Serena,” he adds, “it was painfully obvious she wasn’t the one writing to me. She couldn’t be. And I thought… If I could choose who was, I’d chose you. And it was you,” he closes the distance between them, full of hope. “I saw Serena first. I saw her first, but then I got to know you. And I can guarantee you, Blair, if the roles were reversed, if I had seen you first, I would never have laid my eyes on her.”
Blair looks at him, his eyes so earnest she almost lets her guard down.
But she couldn’t do that to Serena. Couldn’t do that to Nate, either. That’s not the path she was born to take, it’s not the role she has in their group. All she can do, really, is put an end to it. So, she holds her head high and swallows the regret that is already creeping in, before she even says anything.
“Bye, Humphrey.”
*
As if the day can’t get any worse, Nate finds Blair looking her absolute worst: under her covers, eyes red and swollen, a box of Godiva chocolates almost empty by her side, and The Shop Around the Corner playing on her laptop.
He approaches her bed, carefully, but doesn’t dare to sit down.
“Blair,” he says calmly, as if assessing the situation. His intentions are good, he just isn’t good on how he goes on about them. “What happened between you and Serena? What did you do to her?”
“Yes, of course!” she closes her laptop with more force than she needs to. “Because I’m the wicked, ugly, evil stepmother and she is the perfect little princess.”
“I did not say that, but Serena is the one who came to tell me all about how your friendship was over. And I know that if she were the one responsible for it, then you would have run to me to tell me so.”
“Would I really?” she asks, not even looking up. “I mean, we both know which side you would be on. Would it make any difference who gossiped first?”
“That’s not true. I wouldn’t take her side if I thought she was in the wrong. And I wouldn’t be here if I thought you were.”
Blair looks at her fingers, moving as if of their own volition, fidgety.
“I did nothing wrong,” she finally says. “Not to her or to you. Not outside my mind, at least.”
Nate moves the laptop away, making room for him to sit by her side.
“When were you planning on telling me you have feelings for someone else?”
“I don’t know,” she looks at him, apologetic. “I guess I was waiting for you to go first.”
“I didn’t act on it either, Blair,” he says to her hair, too embarrassed to look at her face. “And I know it’s not the same, I know it’s easier for me because my feelings aren’t reciprocated, but having those feelings doesn’t change the fact that I love you,” Nate moves a strand of hair behind her ear, making room for her profile. “I love you and I’d never want to hurt you, even though I probably already did that.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you too, but I think we are way past that now.” Blair moves closer to Nate and takes his face in her hands, a loving gesture. “I love you too, Nate. But I don’t think I would have these kinds of feelings for someone else if we were the real thing. But I love you. Always have, always will.”
Nate leans into her hands, melts.
“There are so many kinds of love,” he says. “Maybe ours just isn’t the get-married-have-two-kids type. Maybe ours is the knowing-each-other-really-well-and-always-supporting-one-another kind. It doesn’t make it mean any less.”
Blair hides her smile, pretends to be annoyed
“Since when are you the beauty and the brains of this relationship?”
“I’d have to bring something to the table, eventually.”
Nate scoots closer, until he’s propped up against the headboard. This time, when he puts his arm around Blair, it feels right.
“You know,” he says as Blair picks up the laptop, puts it on her lap. “I think what hurt Serena the most was not that you have feelings for the guy, but that you found someone who is more like you than she is. I think she is afraid you would replace her.”
“That’s stupid. Nobody could ever replace Serena.”
“You should tell her that, then.”
Blair looks away, hits play.
“Could I maybe persuade you into watching the remake?” Nate asks. “It’s in color, you know? And set in New York, that has to count for something.”
“New York is a good selling point, but you know how I feel about James Stewart, so,” Blair gets more comfortable, her head leaning on his shoulder.
“Modern girl wishes to correspond on cultural subjects anonymously with intelligent, sympathetic, young man,” James Stewart's voice echoes from the laptop speakers.
“Don’t we all?” Nate turns to her with his eyes twinkling, full of mischievousness, and Blair blushes.
*
It’s Sunday when Blair shows up at Serena’s.
Normally, it would be the opposite. On Sundays, Serena shows up at Blair’s for breakfast and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. After all, that's where there's Blair’s movie collection to choose from when Serena eventually gets tired of Audrey, Dorota to serve brunch, and Harold to take them to Serendipity3 for ice cream before lunch, despite Eleanor’s protests.
At Serena’s, all they have is Klaus, Serena’s stepfather who is a car collector and never shuts up about that, even though owning a car in New York is pointless, and Eric, Serena’s younger brother who, although cuter than the last pair of Manolo’s Blair bought, is always interrupting them to talk about his last hyperfixation.
Blair assumed, because of the fight, Serena would not show up at her house, even when the Waldorf penthouse is kind of Serena's safe space, where she goes to be away from the constant drama of her own household. Well, the Waldorf penthouse and the Archibald townhouse.
That’s why she arrives at Serena’s with coffee, pastries, and a copy of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. All to be promptly ungreeted by Serena, who only doesn’t close the door on her face because there’s no door to be closed; the private elevator leaving Blair in the middle of the living room already.
“What are you doing here?” Serena asks.
“I brought breakfast and Audrey. It’s tradition.”
“I’m not in the mood for traditions.”
“That never stopped them from taking place. Remember Thanksgiving?”
Serena crosses her arms, sighs.
“What do you want, Blair?”
Blair is not really sure what to say, and it turns out she doesn't have to say anything. Because suddenly Eric is running towards her, smiler bigger than his own face, taking all of Serena's attention with him.
“Blair!” he screams as he hugs her, almost knocking her down with it.
Blair hugs him back as best as she can with her hands full. She looks at Serena, asking for mercy, but Serena seems to enjoy Blair's struggle way too much to do anything.
“Hey… buddy,” she pats his head, affably. “What are you working on today? Have you finished the Taj Mahal yet?”
“He hasn’t been into LEGO for ages,” Serena says. “His new thing is listening to my private conversations.” Serena looks at him, eyes narrowed and Eric turns to her, finally letting go of Blair, to show his tongue.
“But I’m not doing a good job, because I thought you told Nate you weren’t friends with Blair anymore, and that’s not true, because she is here,” he turns to Blair. “Right?”
Serena pushes Eric aside, gives him a good show of her tongue too.
“Get out, this is an adult conversation.”
“You’re not an adult!”
“Cornetti?” Blair asks, waving the Sant Ambroeus package at Eric, trying to defuse the situation, and he easily falls for it.
“Don’t read too much into it,” Serena says. “Klaus is going through a cleanse, which means mom is going through a cleanse, which means all the house is going through a cleanse and there hasn’t been carbs inside these walls for days. I’m not even sure how you passed security with those.”
The corners of Blair's lips perk up, not quite a smile.
Serena doesn’t say anything, only points to her room with her head, a clear indication that Blair must come with her. And Blair does so, after leaving the coffee and her DVD at the counter, with Eric following close behind.
As soon as Blair enters the room, Serena closes the door, leaving Eric outside.
“God,” she says, “were we that nosy at that age?”
“I don’t know,” Blair shrugs. “I did always find Page Six something of a guilty pleasure.”
“I guess,” Serena sits on her bed, motions for Blair to do the same. “I mean, I love Eric and everything, but he just gets on my nerves sometimes.”
“The people we love have the power to hurt us the most,” Blair says as she sits down.
“I wasn’t talking in some kind of metaphor, Blair. He’s my younger brother, I love and hate him at the same time, as such things go.”
Blair nods, puts her head down.
“So,” Serena says, “I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?”
“Nate came to talk to me. Because, you know, he can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life —“
“Enough!” she says, hitting her duvet in anger. “That’s enough of your gloating, Blair. I get it, you won. You were already winning, okay?” Serena looks down, hides her face in her hands. “You have a father who loves you and you have Nate. You didn’t have to take Dan, too.”
“What are you talking about? What did I win?” Blair blinks, lost. “Do you really think I planned on developing feelings for a boy who was clearly head-over-heels for you? Again?” she sighs. “I know I try to make it seem like I have it all figured out and that my life is perfect, but I don’t and it isn’t. My life is a mess and I’m a mess.”
Blair smiles, softly. “And I’m not like you, Serena. It’s hard for me to make friends. But with Humphrey, it was easy. I don’t if it is because I was hiding behind you or because of him, but… It just was, okay? And I never thought you were serious about him, so I didn’t see a problem in keeping it going. That was wrong of me and I’m sorry for that,” she lays her hand on top of Serena’s, holds it tight. “But I wasn’t trying to replace you. This thought literally has never passed through my mind. I just didn’t expect to find on Humphrey someone who got me like he did; I didn’t expect to find someone like that at all.”
“But why him?” Serena asks. “I was already here. I was already your friend. Why didn’t you just talk to me?”
“Daddy…,” Blair lays down, choosing to look at the ceiling instead of Serena. “His business trips just get more and more frequent. He doesn’t sleep on the same bed as my mother when he is at home anymore,” Serena lays by her side, caresses Blair’s hair. “I think I know what is happening and they are just acting like everything is okay for my sake,” Blair tries to hold her tears, fails. “And I know I could say something and take them out of their misery, but I want my daddy with me more than I want to be a good person.”
“B… Is it because I don’t have a father?” Serena asks as she presses her thumb on Blair’s cheeks, cleans her tears. “It’s that why you didn’t tell me?”
Blair turns, now facing Serena.
“No,” she shakes her head. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say to you. Opening up to Humphrey, that was easy, there was nothing at stake. I never thought that that would turn into something more. But with you, I was always afraid that if I told you too much, I would drive you away, somehow. You have so much going on already, and I didn’t want to be the one to add to that. Because I can’t lose you.”
“You could never lose me,” Serena lays atop Blair, like a weighted blanket. “Just, you know, next time you develop feelings for the guy I’m hanging out with, tell me.”
“Since you broached that subject,” Serena moves her head up, presses her chin on Blair's chest, curious, and Blair smirks. “I’m not with Nate anymore. If that’s something you’d be interested in knowing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Serena gets up, gives Blair a smirk of her own. “By the way, you know Dan is from Brooklyn, right? He lives in a loft,” Blair reaches for a pillow, throws it at Serena, who continues talking and giggling. “Just imagine: Blair Waldorf in DUMBO. I mean, remember how you were totally against letting Lulu Stein sit with us and her grandfather owns like, half of the Upper West Side?”
“It wasn’t because she is from the other side of the park,” Blair tries to hit Serena again, but she has a pillow of her own now and uses it as protection. “It was because her family is republican!”
Amidst laughter, they make up.
*
This time, is Blair who surprises Dan, waiting for him beside his locker while he deals with the mess that is inside of it.
“Blair?” he asks surprised, after he turns. “I — Are you? Hi.”
“Hi,” she says, softly. Then, “I wanted to apologize to you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do. I blamed you for the fight I had with Serena when it was entirely my fault,” she purses her lips. Apologizing never being something that comes easily for her. “So, I’m sorry.”
“It was a bit my fault, too,” he leans on his locker, at ease. “You know, the whole stringing her along because it allowed me to be close to you.”
“We could agree to fifty-fifty.”
“It’s a deal,” Dan offers her his hand, and Blair shakes it in agreement.
Blair lets go of his hand, not sure how to take the next step. It’s been years since she has done it, Blair being in kindergarten when she met Nate. She’s a bit rusty.
“Humphrey,” she locks her eyes with his. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you want Serena to read what you wrote? I mean, this all started because you wrote to her.”
“Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?” he scratches his neck, uncomfortable. “If she read anything I wrote she would see how ass-backwards crushing on you I am.”
Blair looks down, not quite knowing what to do. Dan uses her feeble moment of hesitation to get closer to her, looping his arms on her waist.
“You know,” he smiles, bashful. “My sister saw you once, before — well, not everything, but most of it. She said you looked like an old Hollywood star. I couldn’t help but agree with her.”
“Yeah,” Blair purses her lips, looks away. “I’m the Bette Davis to Serena’s Joan Crawford.”
Dan frowns. “You talk like you’ve never looked at yourself in a mirror before. Like you don’t know how breathtakingly beautiful you are.”
Blair looks at him, eyes blown wide, like a deer caught in headlights. She tentatively puts her hands on his chest and splays them, bites her lip.
“There’s this… Wedding happening the first week of summer,” she says. “Old friends of my parents. It’s going to be a total bore, and I was wondering… Would you like to go?”
Dan looks down at her hands, her fingers moving slightly, anxious, and then back at Blair.
“Let me see if I got this right. You mean with you?”
“Yes, Dan. With me.”
“Oh,” he smirks. “We are on a first name basis now.”
Blair narrows her eyes, sways her head cutely.
“You and me together, in a place full of your peers,” Dan teases, “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” she nods, blissful.
“So,” he smiles wide, puts one of his hands on top of one of hers. “Is it a date?”
“Oh,” Blair gets on her tiptoes, leans into him, and with a smile of her own, touches his lips with hers. “It’s a date.”