#verpevent2

“I swear to fuck if you’re here to ask me about whether that Gossip Hag bullshit is true or not, I’m either dumping this drink on your head or punching you in the fucking face.” Rowan snapped wearily from where he was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, irritation making his head throb in time with the music. 

“S’it bad to say this whole ‘Gossip Girl’ thing isn’t that surprising?” Chessie comments, her words only holding half-truth. If someone anonymous blogger was able to get something like that on Monty, of all people, who was to say they didn’t have something on her? “At least there’s an open bar.”

He looks at his phone and it takes him reading the message once, twice, three times for him to fully comprehend the words on the screen. Quinn’s not the type to get easily nervous, but he feels powerless in that moment, mind replaying the secrets he had waiting to be exposed like a scratched record. “Honestly, I preferred the sex tape,” he says only half-sarcastically to the person next to him. “You know, if we go now we can still make a run for it. That food truck down the street is looking more and more promising, despite the fact there’s no way it could pass a health inspection.” 

It had taken Tate a few moments to truly understand what was unravelling here — an anonymous blogger was revealing people’s darkest secrets among the Upper East Side.  If Gossip Girl was able to dig up that kind of dirt on Monty Santos, who knows what that would mean for the rest of them.  Tate crossed their legs as they leaned forward on the bar, signalling to the bartender for a refill as a sigh fell from their lips.  “Que mierda,” Tate whispered under their breath before bringing their glass of wine to their lips.

Already in a zone so early in the party, Seb was at that point in his night where he wanted to greet everybody like a young Gatsby stealing somebody else’s party from under the mask. Not recognizing the masked presence in his proximity, but still a sucker for socialization, Seb raised a hand to greet Wren and gave him his most radiant smile. “You look off. A round of shots? I’ll keep you company.“

What is the official date of the night of the masquerade?

Masks, Celia quickly found out as she weaved her way through a crowded room, were not your friend when looking discretely for one person in particular. Leave it to Nathalie Kirbey to think up the most childish and annoying theme for a gala and set it into motion. While Celia’s whole life usually revolved around masks and smoke and mirrors, she simply didn’t have time for it at the moment. The Gossip Girl blasts were the least of her worries, nothing she’d done would be getting out if it wasn’t on her own terms, that she knew for sure. It was Bishop’s recent lapse in judgement that she was betting would make the blog sooner rather than later. Secrets were flying left and right and while that little piece of information may not be displayed for all to see tonight, Celia couldn’t imagine it would take long before it popped up on every iPhone in Manhattan.