B. BUCKLEY

“Both real shiners, but I think I’m going to stick to this puppy thing, it looks great,” Eric told Bree as he kept looking at himself on the phone. “But thanks, I agree. I look adorable,” he joked before turning his phone to them. “Here, try it.”

Bree took the phone in their hands to get a better angle, laughing genuinely in the process. “Oh, c’mon -- a bit of mascara and some red lipstick? Honey, you could slay this town before Gossip Girl even got the chance. I’d even let you borrow a pair of my heels to bring the look together.” They stuck their tongue out, actually finding enjoyment in the filter before handing the phone back to Eric. “Okay, okay -- you win. It is pretty damn fun.”

“— If you’re planning on telling me all about what’s on Gossip Girl’s blog,” Natalie began, feigning annoyance ( fake, of course – she did keep up with the posts, but wouldn’t be the first to admit to indulging. ) . “I’d say you’re about five years too late to that conversation,” she joked, “There’s no point in fretting over this copy-cat – I doubt it’ll last.” 

Bree couldn’t help but to smirk, crossing their arms and chuckling to themselves. “Oh, no -- what I was trying to say wasn’t meant to be taken as: hey, have you seen what all Gossip Girl’s been posting about? It’s so awful! It was more along the lines of: wow, lucky thing you haven’t been dragged yet. Get what I mean?” The smirk shifted into a sickly sweet smile, one perfected after many failed attempts by Octavia to push Bree and Natalie into the same social circle. “Still, luck or not, you really have nothing to worry about -- a lot of people can dodge Gossip Girl’s blasts with ease. Some are just graceful enough to fly under her radar, which really is a talent: too occupied in their own lives for petty drama to get in the way. Then, of course, there’s the category that you fall under: the people so boring and painfully dull that Gossip Girl can’t even be bothered to dig up dirt on them.”

Another laugh, followed by a bitter inhale and a strained grin -- “Oh, I wish I could say that I was only teasing you.”

“This is the best filter I’ve ever seen!”

"I actually prefer the one with the flower crown -- and I also really like the one with the super dramatic makeup. It makes me feel like a diva, y’know? Regardless, I have to say: the puppy dog look does suit you. It makes your eyes pop, too.”

Gossip Girl. Wasn’t she a sight for sore eyes? Not that he could actually see her. But the text was enough. ‘I’m back bitches.’ It was like a beacon that nobody’s secrets were safe. And it scared Jamie. As he looked down at his phone, he kept scrolling through the message. No matter how many times he read it, it would never go away. So he turned his head up and away from it. She wouldn’t get his secrets. They were locked air tight for nobody to find. That was what he thought as he walked into the Vogue Cocktail Party.

Donned in Tom Ford Spring Summer 2016, he swiftly stepped into the room. Fashionably late, if you were late, was the way to go. Not that Jamie was ever not fashionable. A champagne flute was in his hand as soon as a server offered. “Step away now,” he stated as he waved his free hand towards any other area that wasn’t near him. After a few short moments, he decided to grace the room with his presence to mingle. If someone wanted to speak, they would have to come to him.

Bree felt two urges when they caught sight of Jamie: firstly, to smile, and secondly, to run. The relationship between the two siblings had always been volatile at best -- an odd mix of love and hesitation; the kind of bond that never got the chance to grow beyond childhood, with fingers locked and nearly toothless grins stretching wide. Bree loved their younger brother, but in times of need, Grace would be the one that Jamie turned to -- and they couldn’t really blame him for that. They thought of his accident as they started walking over to him, inhaling and rubbing their palms across their dress to remove the sweat that had formed there. I should have been there for you, they thought to themselves. I’m sorry.

( And would their apology ever reach his ears? Unlikely. )

"What’s wrong, Jamie? Cat got your tongue -- or are you afraid you’ll catch a disease if you try to talk to anyone?” they teased with a small laugh once they approached him, trying to joke away the awkward tension between them. They looked him over, nodding and smiling.

 “You look nice. It really is good to see you, Jam-Jam.”

The seams of the evening had been threaded with her own hand, every stitch and embellishment carefully placed until it sparkled with the glory of a godly feast. Trust had been placed on her petite shoulders, the words of her boss, whom she’d manipulated into thinking she was amazing, rung in her ear. It was her first chance to truly shine, to be recognized. 

Octavia had loathed the intern status, quickly hustling to the top in a bid for amplified power. She was nobody’s coffee girl. 

Bree, one of her favourites, was a welcome face among a mis-matched crowd of attendees, some she could swear would never be put on her guest list. Perhaps Gossip Girl, the new one, had a hand in it. It was certainly something she would have done.

“Dan had more balls than I ever would have expected. It’s a shame that when the truth was revealed he crumbled instead of climbing atop the wreckage.”

She smiled at them, genuinely, pressing a glass to her lips from a passing waiter, “Flattery will get you far.”

Just being around Octavia was enough to cause Bree to chuckle softly, their lips stretching into a large smile. They chose to ignore their friend’s comment on Dan, knowing full well that if Octavia wanted to discuss the rebirth of Gossip Girl any further, she’d waste no time in making it known. “That so, m’love?” they questioned with a playful smirk, snatching Octavia’s glass and taking a sip of the bubbling liquid. “I must be at the top of your list, then. Y’know -- because I’m your one true love, right? The one who tells you how perfect you are the most?” They handed the flute of champagne back to the girl, clenching their jaw as a thought entered their mind. “Or did that darling Natalie beat me out while I was away? Not sure why I’ve never tried to hold a steady conversation with her -- she's absolutely lovely.” 

Gag.

“Still,” Bree went on with a sharp inhale, leaning in and winking mischievously at Octavia. “I’m back now, so Natalie will have to give up that seat at our table that she’s been keeping warm for me. Don’t you think?”

A sharp breath whistled its way through her nose, wide blue eyes swivelling to meet Bree’s face. She seemed entirely at ease, despite the recent message they had all just received. “As much as an employee can, I suppose. I should be taking notes on the best dressed of the evening, but thus far Gossip Girl seems to have stolen the show. And I don’t even know who she’s wearing,” Emma sighed, finally standing up to her full height. A slender arm reached through the crowd, conjuring a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “I’m surprised you’re not more concerned,” Emma commented, raising the flute to her lips, a sideways glance giving nothing away. “Is it true? About Grace and Tyler?”

"Well, my dear, allow me to help you out with your duties,” Bree started, also reaching out a hand to pick up a slender glass of champagne from a passing tray. “Gossip Girl is wearing our secrets, that’s who -- and, unfortunately, it seems to be the look of the year.” Their phone buzzed once more, and they fished it out of their purse with a sigh. “We’re in for a long day if this keeps up -- especially you. I can’t even begin to imagine how stressful this must be for an employee; I give you my condolences.” Bree looked away in response to Emma’s last question, a look of conflict washing across their features.

“Probably, but I don’t know. Grace and I hardly ever had a relationship -- not to mention that I only just got back. I’m not sure what she’s been up to, or what’s going on, but whatever’s happening isn’t meant to be underestimated.” They took a sip from their flute, eyes going back to meet Emma’s own. “If I had to place bets, I’d say that this new Gossip Girl knows more than any of us would like to believe.”

“Quick, hide me,” Emma said breathlessly, ducking slightly behind the figure beside her. Azure irises peaked from behind her co-conspirator, a small sigh puffing through stained lips. “Between my boss, the Harry Styles wanna-be by the bar and the sudden re-emergence of Gossip Girl, I’ve hardly had a second to fucking breathe.”

“Repeat after me: inhale, exhale,” Bree replied as they adjusted their headpiece, fingers smoothing out their brown locks. They weren’t phased by the young girl’s sudden appearance behind them -- there was no special bond between the two, but due to both of their fathers’ roles in the state, Emma was more than simply a familiar face. “The only way to make it through these parties is by breathing, hon’ -- even when shit hits the fan.” They peered over their shoulder, smiling softly at the younger woman. “So, aside from you-know-who coming back, and the wannabe that’s shooting you glances right now, tell me: are you enjoying yourself?” Their eyes glanced down to their purse for a short second, lips closing tightly as they felt the weight of their phone.

Inhale, exhale.

She’d have admired the cruel irony of the situation, if the joke were not on her. Composure remained on her features, her drink-less hand tapping against the other as she mentally went over the text message. The bitch was back, and she wasn’t the one with the reigns in hand. “Fuck,” she muttered under the breath, before showcasing her signature smile, serpentine grin etched onto her features. 

“It seems originality is hard to come by these days. A copy-cat Gossip Girl is hardly news worthy,” Octavia announced to the nearest person. 

Bree’s phone hung loosely in their hand for one, two, three, four, five seconds before it was returned to their purse without a second glance at the message that they had received. They sighed, a hand running through their hair in response to the dramatics of the evening. Apparently, Gossip Girl was back, and more than that, their cousin was one of the first blasted during the revival. Not that they truly cared -- their relationship with Grace was hardly anything special, but to be fair, neither was their connection with Jamie: and they actually gave a damn about him.

“It seems originality is hard to come by these days,” purred a voice almost more familiar to them than their own, and they turned to meet Octavia Bass with crossed arms and concerned eyes. “A copy-cat Gossip Girl is hardly news worthy.”

“I agree, Octavia,” Bree started, looking away from their closest friend with a biting of their lip. “But even the most unassuming stories should be followed. I don’t trust this -- not one bit. I always felt like Dan wasn’t capable of the things that Gossip Girl did -- and I don’t know what’s going on now, but I won’t be letting my guard down.” They allowed themselves to sigh once more, then flashing a small smile as they regained their composure.

“Regardless, my darling, there are more important matters to be discussed. For one: you’ve outdone yourself this evening. I must say that I’m quite impressed -- though of course I expected nothing less from you.” 

Bree Buckley ⟶

They curled their fingers back at Eric’s words, crinkling up the cash in their hand as a smile formed on their lips in response to his display of kindness. In all truth, there really hadn’t been any point in their attempt to give Eric back what they owed him. Three days prior, they had ran into Eric at one of the coffee shops that they frequented, clumsily leaving their purse behind – Eric had covered their charge, and the pair had shared a small conversation over lattes and cappuccinos. It didn’t matter to them that Eric would have no need in them paying him back: handing out a few dollars wouldn’t even start to leave a dent in Eric’s wealth – but they believed strongly in repaying their debts, and they had the stubbornness required to get the job done. 

Bree found the young man to be refreshing, to say the least. He had a certain factor of softness in comparison to the other men of their shared society, and Bree wondered why they’d never tried to build a friendship between the two of them. Bree was a mess of fire and recklessness, but nothing was more charming to them than a humble, down-to-earth person. “That so?” they replied, biting the inside of their cheek as their smile shifted into a smirk. They quickly shot their hand out, dropping the clump of one-dollar bills down the collar of Eric’s shirt.

“Necessary or not, there ya go. Just keep it handy, okay? You might have to help someone else out later.”