๐๐พ๐ป๐ฝ๐ผ ๐๐ฒ๐ด๐ฎ ๐๐ฎ๐ต๐ต
Guys My Age - Hey Violet
โ ๐ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฆ๐น ๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ถ๐ฑ. ๐๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐บ '๐ค๐ข๐ถ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ข ๐จ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ถ๐ฑ.
Everything in Blair Waldorf's mind to her was a never-ending movie of her life. Each event is a scene captured for the eventual display of the triumphs and tribulations she went through to get her happy ending. She did everything right, and she ensured that with the perfectionism she displayed in every task, scheme, or event she dealt with. Every detail had to be parfaite.
And even in her lowest moments, in her mind, they were just that. If the scene of her and Chuck at the station had played out on the big screen, it would have been a tear-jerking scene played out in black and white with the wind in her hair as she rushed away, leaving him there on the walkway to return to her home in New York. The crowd would have applauded her for her strength while crying with her through her pain, and the screen would fade to black. There would be a brief end scene at the end of the credits that would have spared her tumultuous recovery the screen time, showing her with her Prince Charming. Her happily ever after.
But the cruelty of life was, as bad as she wished for it to be, it was not a movie. She wasn't going to be spared the days of pain and the Chuck-sized hole left to mend in her heart. She wouldn't live down the humiliation of letting a real-life Grimaldi go to talk Chuck Bass into staying a part of her life without letting herself love him. Or him her. And Gossip Girl ensured that before she could even get back to pack her bags for the return trip.
๐๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ต๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ: ๐ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ต๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ต๐ถ๐ณ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐๐ฉ๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ ๐๐ข๐ด๐ด ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต๐ณ๐บ. ๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ญ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฎ๐ช๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐๐ข๐ด๐ด ๐จ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ต ๐ฃ๐ข๐ค๐ฌ ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฑ๐ช๐ฆ๐ค๐ฆ๐ด, ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฐ'๐ด ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ง๐ต ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฑ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด ๐ฃ๐ข๐ค๐ฌ ๐ต๐ฐ๐จ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ?
๐๐ช๐ด๐ฐ๐ถ ๐๐ช๐ด๐ฐ๐ถ, ๐๐ฐ๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ฑ ๐๐ช๐ณ๐ญ
"Ugh!" The sound came seconds before the sound of her phone ping-ponging off the marble floor with the echoing clicks of Serena's heels fast approaching to catch up with the distraught brunette.
"Hey, B, come on, it's not that bad."
"Not that bad?!" She wheeled around with the crimson feather dress brushing the floor in a noisy twist so that her tear-filled gaze could find her best friend's face with disbelief coloring every part of her visage. "S, did you miss that last text you got? It's bad enough I blew off a Prince for this, but now anyone who reads Gossip Girl knows I humiliated and ended things with Chuck!"
"B, you already ended things with Chuck, remember?" She sighed, gathering her own dress up in hand while dropping her clutch on the nearby table so she could offer Blair comfort.
"Then why's it hurt so much? I feel it with my whole body. It hurts me to breathe or even think about all the women who will crawl out of the woodwork, thinking they have even the smallest hope of being something to him... Or worse." The small rant was quickly cut short by the sob that hitched in the back of her throat in her attempt to continue. And as she sunk into Serena's shoulder, she was glad Gossip Girl couldn't see this particular moment.
For all the scheming and quips aside, she didn't want anyone to see her the way Chuck made her feel. Vulnerable. She couldn't appear weak. Just like she couldn't let anyone of importance see her Grace Jones side. Class and Reliability, an unwavering leader, is how she wanted to present herself. ๐ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ฆ ๐๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ๐บ. ๐๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ฆ ๐๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ๐บ ๐ช๐ด ๐ฎ๐ฆ. She'd often reminded herself.
But she couldn't use that anymore, could she? Not after today, or while she sat here feeling her own heartbreak, she'd been avoiding all summer, fresh and new down to her core. Grace Kelly didn't become Princess of Monaco by blowing off Prince Rainier for some high school love. She gave up millions and an acting career, and here Blair was presented with her own royal, and she couldn't even let Chuck Bass run off to God knows where with some dimwitted, doe-eyed, village girl.
He'd used her to keep his precious Empire, and yet her heart was crippled by his existence. Closed off to the potential of another love.
The rest of the night and most of the next day was a blur of traveling, Lady Godiva, and Audrey and the sickening anticipation of a blast that would undoubtedly come of Chuck with some burlesque dancer on his lap, a glass in hand, or some headline from a French newspaper with Blair leaving Prince Grimaldi in the middle of a diner while hot on Serena's heels to catch a cab.
But the silence was deafening. Gossip Girl had gone dark, Serena had rushed off after Nate and that walking disappointment heart on her sleeve, Dorota was taking the day with Vanya for Anastasia's checkup, and assured her she'd be back to cheer her up.
But screw that, she could lay around feeling sorry for herself, and let the pain and emptiness swallow her whole, or she could prove the benefits of retail therapy. Unlike most, she knew precisely where to shop to buy happiness. Or at least she would put up a good front. Try as she might, she wouldn't be any better than Chuck with her vices. But today, she would make sure to fill that hole he left with a wardrobe overhaul.