v.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I get enough of them from Jacob. I know what I’m supposed to thing, the Upper East Side is terrible, yadi yadi yada, but a girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do to get ahead,” she said with a nonchalant shrug, not ashamed in the slightest. “We’ll get you settled right in and then it’ll be just like old times. Except better because old times weren’t always that great for you, were there?” Blue nodded, looping her arm through her friend’s elbow and pulling her towards her office building. “You’re going to die. Corner office, huge windows, assistant. I even have a treadmill in there.”

The look was wiped from her face, replaced with a smile, at being called out. As if she was one to talk about being seduced by wealth, or the UES. She understood doing whatever it took to get ahead. That’s why she had gone to Tisch, taken the CNN internship... That’s what she had used to convince herself to do a lot of things, back in the day.

Vanessa offered a heavy exhale and an eye roll in lieu of a real, verbal response to the mention of her ‘old times.’ “You’re really moving on up. To the east side. To a deluxe office. In the sky-y-y,” she half-sang with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Is it really corny to say how proud of you I am?”

New-york city had always been cutthroat and ruthless. No one had time to stop for another human being in this damn place. Which was why she was grateful when someone not only stopped to see if she was okay, but was willing to give her the items and tools needed to take care of her little problem. “Honestly, had it not been for you, I’d probably still be here trying to flag someone down.”

Looking over at the woman as she placed the tape around her heel, she shrugged her shoulder. “As long as it’ll get me where I need to go.” Normally, the fact that it would look ugly would have made her lose her mind — but as a mother now, she barely batted an eye. “I’m from here. It’s just different as you get older and things change in your life. I’d often dream about being older here and now I only dream of a fucking front lawn for my kids to play in.” 

Vanessa considered what the woman said as she tore another strip of tape off. “When I was growing up, I moved between here and this tiny town in Vermont. I had a front yard, and a backyard, and acres and acres everywhere there, but I loved being a kid here,” she offered along with the second piece. Though it hadn’t ended well. And if she were being really honest, she couldn’t totally blame it on the city -- or not having access to a front yard. She wasn’t sure where she was going with that bit of backstory. 

“But, I think you’re all set,” she said with a satisfied look at the bandaged shoe. “Want to test it out?”

Monday, May 16, 2012 at 4:11 pm

             S P O T T E D:  “V PEDDLING SCHOOL PAPERS TO PUBLISH?”

They say the only way to conquer your fear is face what you fear the most. You must walk into the belly of the beast and risk the possibility of failure. And that’s what V just did -- flat out failed. Sources saw her waltz into Simon & Schuster on 6th with two manuscripts in hand and slink out with one. Rumor has it she successfully sold one story, just not her own. A novelist may grow up in Brooklyn, but that doesn’t mean anyone wants to read her.

What was it Coolidge said? Publish or perish? I think it’s time V makes her exit. 

“Well, at least some things haven’t changed,” Devin observed with a chuckle – picturing Vanessa living in an building that practically screamed yuppie bait had made her teeth hurt from the very wrongness of it. “Four– okay, I promise I’m not interrogating you, I’m just– wow. You know, I didn’t really expect to see you here, either, Vanessa, and I don’t just mean here-here.” She felt like she had a million questions and none of them were making any sense. “Well, LA and I don’t really agree with each other, so, uh, no, not there. I can’t avoid it entirely but damned if I’d actually live there.” She’d take three flights a week and near-perpetual jetlag over living anywhere but New York.

If anyone could understand a city ‘not agreeing’ with you, it was Vanessa. That’s exactly how she felt about New York. Yet here she was. “Well, LA’s loss is New York’s gain. And mine!” She could choose to focus on the positive, like bumping into Devin Blum of all people. In front of this building, of all places. 

“But I know how you enjoy an interrogation. I’ll be in town for a while if you want to grab lunch or something? No question off limits, college rules.”

Eric wanted to counter her words, saying she didn’t need to be an outsider, she could become fully integrated into his world - but he knew he’d only be playing polite and he’d be lying at the same time. Outsiders were outsiders. Always. Instead, he looked out into traffic and then nodded softly. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly, realizing very well that his time in Hawaii, while great, had mostly been about escaping the city. What’s that quote again? Running from something, not towards something? He may have pretended it was the latter, but he knew that wasn’t all true. 

“Well,” he then said while they reached the cafe. “I suppose I can give you another chance,” he said, bringing his reply back to what she’d said earlier. In all fairness, as much as he’d been angry with her, it had been years, and he’d always thought it sad that his friendship with Vanessa had ended so abruptly.

Stepping in dutifully as she held open the door, he smiled while she tried to guess his order and took off his scarf in the meantime. “Actually,” he replied while he also took off his gloves, “rose hip tea with a spoon of honey, if they have it.” Then, continuing with an explanation, “I can’t have caffeine anymore. Best not to tempt fate.” He said it very casually with a shrug off his shoulders, but he knew exactly what kind of response it would bring from her. Everyone always replied the same way. Oh… Right, they’d say, their tone always laced with guilt. As if it was their fault. Eric had learned that being casual about it relieved at least some of the tension. 

Vanessa was grateful for the forgiveness. She meant what she said too, about making it up -- even if she kept messing up. First the bar, now the caffeine... but those were both mistakes. A lot of mistakes with the van der Woodsen family. 

“God, I couldn’t fuck this up worse if I was trying, right?” she forced out with an equally forced laugh. She took up her place in the line with Eric at her side. “One rose hip tea. With honey.  That sounds... really delicious, actually. Maybe two of those.”

As an afterthought, she added one final thought: “Are there any other things I should, just, like, avoid? It doesn’t seem like it, based on all of today’s behavior, but I really want to do better.”

      Maverick had never been privy to most of the details from Vanessa’s teenage years. He’d been working with the band, battling his own demons at the time. Gossip Girl blasts were the last thing he’d really ever wanted to read, mostly due to his disinterest in the lives of elite. He had heard bits and pieces but it was never any of his business and out of respect for his friend, he didn’t ask. It was how their friendship worked. When they felt like being dwelling on the past, they would have their little conversations. But no one liked living in the past and clearly they had worked hard enough to move past their problem years.

“Yeah, that’s a good look.” He chuckled in response, shaking his head as he took enough hit from his cigarette. With parted lips, he blew out a bit of smoke before spoke again. “Hiatus has been lifted, but we’re still in the early stages. Bouncing ideas off of each other, y’know… the works.”

Vanessa nodded slowly and couldn’t help but think back to her own work. When she was younger, she shared everything she wrote and filmed so readily. She had been eager for a captive audience. Now, she was a little more discerning with her audiences, at least as long as her work was in draft form. She understood the need to keep your creative pursuits, especially when they were also your work, close. 

“I’ll be in the city for a while,” Vanessa began instead, “so... keep me posted. Especially if you guys pull together a secret show. I’m a little out of practice, but I used to be a pretty good roadie backstage.”

Today was one of Sabrina’s favorite kinds of day, the kind where she got to sit down with an author she loved and have a genuine conversation. This conversation promised to be a bit different than usual if only for the reason it was in person. Despite knowing Vanessa for years, the blonde had never actually seen her in the flesh. She hadn’t shaken her hand or given her a hug or heard her speak in person. On it’s face there was something a little strange about having a friendship that was never at all given a physical dimension, but in the age of Skype and Facetime where conversations could traverse oceans and thousands of miles in mere seconds, it fit. Even still, when Sabrina spoke of Vanessa, she didn’t usually call her a friend, instead opting for ‘her author’ or ‘client’ or some other term with an air of business relations. There was something about claiming a friendship with a person she’d never seen face-to-face that was uncomfortable. It was as if it were middle school all over again. What if Vanessa didn’t like her in person? The irrational nerves were circling.

But she was a grown woman, not a pre-teen, and to spend time on such worries was immature. At least, that’s what Sabrina kept telling herself. Plus, the wine would help. Alcohol tended to have that impact. 

Cacio E Vino was bustling by the time she set foot inside, but somehow she picked Vanessa out of the crowd almost immediately. The nerves washed away as the friendly face emerged, smiling and waving. She waved back and made her way over to the table, remaining standing unsure if she should reach out for a hug or a handshake or exactly how to greet her very old/new friend. “It’s so good to see you!”

Vanessa caught Sabrina (she was pretty sure it was Sabrina) in her periphery almost as soon as she’d come into view. She dropped her phone face down on the table and stood up with a smile. She’d spent a lot of time talking with Sabrina, over the phone, on video chat, through frantic cross-Atlantic emails at two in the morning, but this in person? She wasn’t sure what their relationship totally looked like in the physical world. 

"It’s so good to see you,” she echoed, unsure what to do with her hands after she’d lifted them for emphasis, not sure what to say next. After an awkward pause that lasted just a second too long . “I... I’m going to hug you,” she said, laughing a little. “Is that okay?”

Nate followed every step of her career. All of the films, all of the documentaries, everything she wrote or co-wrote or gave five-star reviews. He’d watched them all, and owned most. Every fundraiser she posted on Instagram, he’d donated to. Anonymously. His name, and his money, had always been a point of contention. 

He found himself wanting to pull his coat over his head in shame.

Here she was, bright and alive, fresh from Barcelona where she thrived doing what she loved. And she did it all, every part of it, on her own. And here he was, working in politics. He knew what she would see; a body double of his grandfather. But it was different, he assured himself. He wasn’t running for office. He was a democrat. He was doing good. But did it matter? Would she ever-?

He stopped himself. Why did it matter if it mattered? They were over and had been over but seeing her here, standing in front of him, he felt like he was in a time warp. He was suddenly overwhelmingly concerned with what she thought of him. 

He forgot that he was here for that. To meet a client. A client. How fucking pretentious. He checked his phone, like every dick in every shitty movie that was too busy to slow down. “He just canceled on me, actually.” Lying. He was lying. He looked back up at her, nervous now. “Are you busy? Do you have time to get a coffee?” He wanted to keep her here. It’d been so long and he hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed her until now, but it was bone-deep. “Catch up?”

A lie. He’d lied to her. Or... was it for her? She felt the smile lift her features before she realized what she was doing. Hadn’t she just made a mental pledge not to do this? But something about this was so familiar. So comfortable. So fun. Hadn’t he shirked his responsibilities for her before? And hadn’t he almost immediately changed his mind? But this was just the first part, and, conveniently, the only part she remembered right now. 

“Yeah, okay,” she replied, maybe too quickly. Did she sound eager? Like, too eager? Maybe she was doubling-down on the deja vu, maybe this was a bad idea, but maybe they could just... catch up. “I’d actually love a coffee.” 

 although she knew it was strange to mostly talk to herself, she nearly jumped at the sound of the voice. it took her another moment to realize that she recognized who the voice belonged to. her brow knitted automatically as she found herself looking at someone she hadn’t really expected to run into. though considering how the past always came back to fuck her over, she probably shouldn’t have been surprised.

 “true,” she admitted. “but most places have at least a little more…” her voice trailed off as she tried to think of a word that would suffice to describe a place like this. “atmosphere.” she finally decided upon. “not the biggest fan of sticky floors or loud drunks,” she added a moment later. 

 her fingers tapped lightly on the rim of her glass as she held the whiskey. “how have you been?” blair asked, offering a somewhat hesitant smile towards vanessa. she took a long sip of her drink before setting the glass down lightly so it wouldn’t add to the noise of the pub.

Vanessa took another look at her beer, double-checking the alcohol content on the label she’d been picking at earlier. Sure, it wasn’t her first of the evening, but it was just beer. She might be drunk, maybe. Somehow. How else could she explain having a casual conversation with Blair Waldorf? About sandwiches? In a pub? 

Was Blair was in shock? Actually, maybe she really was. For a second, Vanessa had forgotten what had happened. But seeing Blair, here, whiskey in hand? That brought the memory right back, even though it seemed Blair might be trying to forget. After everything Blair had done to her, after everything Vanessa had done to her, maybe... Maybe it had evened out, somehow. Maybe now she could just... be there for her? When she caught the bartender’s attention, she signaled for another beer.

“I’ve been busy,” opting away from words like ‘good’ or ‘great.’ Blair didn’t need to hear about how well things we going for her. “Working a lot. I heard you’re running Waldorf Designs now. That’s really great, Blair.”

When Vanessa spoke, Eric continued walking and looked out at the street, though he was listening intently to what she was saying. When it had come out that Vanessa had been involved in, among other things, getting Serena admitted to rehab, Eric had taken it hard. He’d always considered her a friend. They’d always been friends. He’d even come out to her before Gossip Girl had outed him for the rest of the city. 

And it wasn’t just the fact that she’d been involved in a big scheme that involved his sister. Of course, he’d been angry about that, but he’d have gotten over that in a few months, probably. But it was Vanessa who had schemed - someone who he’d always seen as immune from the influences of his social circles. And if Vanessa could fall into that trap, anyone could. Which meant that no one he’d ever meet would really be safe from getting sucked in. That had been a hard pill to swallow.

Though they kept walking, their pace slowed down to a kind of stroll while she talked, and eventually, Eric sighed. It had been years. Would he hold this over her for the rest of her life? Or, at least, the rest of her life she spent in New York? He wasn’t sure just how much their paths would cross now that they were no longer in high school, but there was still a big chance they ran in the same circles. Eric hated feeling bitter.

“You could’ve apologized. Back then,” he said, cocking his head to the side as if to indicate the past. Then, stopping in his tracks to turn towards her, he waited for her to look at him as well and then shrugged. “You weren’t supposed to do things like that. To be like that.” He’d spent countless times defending the very people she’d turned into, always trying to tell her there was good in Blair, in Penelope, in Chuck, … in Serena. “But, I guess better late than never,” he said as he picked up the pace again, not sure he fully believed his own words. He didn’t want to stay bitter forever, but it wasn’t easy to forget seeing Serena the way she’d looked after she’d been admitted. 

“You know me, Eric. I would never be okay with things going that far,” Vanessa countered, doing her best to match his pace. “And yes, I should have said all of this seven years ago, and, yes, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Juliet in the first place, but...” Vanessa exhaled into a deep sigh, eyes fixed forward. “She was right. I mean, she was wrong about Serena, but Juliet was right about me. I’m an outsider here, I always will be, and I just... I had to get out.”

And then, one of the reason’s she’d reached out to Eric to apologize first. “I think you, out of everyone I know, can understand that.” Hadn’t he needed to get out of the city too? For different reasons, sure, but wasn’t the impulse the same? 

As they reached the cafe, Vanessa took a step ahead and pushed the door open, holding it open for them both. “I was serious about that coffee, by the way,” she said, her tone a little lighter once they were both inside. “It’s been a while, but let me guess... Non-fat latte with a caramel drizzle? Or wait, quad no-whip mocha with soy milk. A few extra shots to keep you Upper East Siders awake as you buzz all over town?”

She saw anger flash in Vanessa’s eyes, but it dissipated as quickly as it appeared. She wasn’t truly offended that her friend hadn’t reached out yet, she understood that coming back to town must’ve been quite overwhelming without having to worry about reconnecting with old friends. “I’m not actually upset, stop apologizing,” she said, waving her apology away. “I don’t know, it’s kind of charming, no? Also, that much space is worth a lot in Manhattan.” Blue looked at her friend, trying to figure out the expression on her face. “You don’t look to excited to be back.”

Vanessa narrowed her eyes at the ‘charming’ comment. All of her friends seemed to get sucked into the glittering trap of the Upper East Side’s charms -- first Jenny, then Dan, then Blue, then herself. “It’s... weird. To be back,” she admitted. “I thought I’d feel different and the city would be the same, but--” Vanessa interrupted herself, forcing out her best impersonation of a laugh. “God, I need to get out of here. Are you busy? I haven’t even seen your new office yet, not in person.”

Eric had been to bars since the Ostroff. In fact, he’d been to a bar just two days ago when he’d found Nate alone. But deliberately being invited to one - that was new. After the elevator incident though, he wasn’t surprised. 

Still, he couldn’t pass a drinking establishment without memories flooding back in, memories he stored and locked away so carefully. It were remnants of feelings, more than actual memories, but he could just about remember what it felt like to drink alone in his room before it was even lunchtime, and the accompanying feeling of shame that was never quite enough to stop him from pouring booze into the glass.

Locking up those thoughts again, he ran a hand through his hair but then shook his head, signalling to Vanessa it was fine. “I can handle it,” he said simply, looking into the windows of the (mostly empty) bar before actually looking at her. “I didn’t know it was gone either.” That shouldn’t surprise her; he didn’t have many reasons to visit this part of the city.

“New Yorkers will never not drink coffee, I’m sure. Let me see what’s nearby,” he said as he whipped out his phone, mostly glad to not have to make small talk while he searched for a coffee shop nearby. He was usually really good at small talk, but this was a strange situation. 

“There we go, Sweetleaf Coffee. It’s less than a mile from here. That way,” he said as he pointed East. What he wanted to ask her was why she’d texted him in the first place, but he refrained from doing so for one reason only: he wanted her to tell him. She’d made him come all the way out here, after all. She should be the one to show her cards.

She watched Eric scroll through his phone, opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. He didn’t want to be doing this, she could tell, but he was because that’s the kind of person he was. She’d asked, he’d complied. And that had gotten them both in trouble before, but the consequences fell harder on Eric. She’d never be able to properly apologize for that, either. 

If they were still friends, she could have joked about them moving further east -- further into her territory, further from his. But they weren’t friends. Not anymore. 

“Sounds great,” she replied with a smile, not naive enough to think it would be somehow contagious. Maybe she was hoping it would make her feel better, too. They walked in silence for a few paces, waiting to see if he had anything to say, but he didn’t. She couldn’t be surprised by that. Might as well start strong.

“I know I’m never going to be able to apologize to Serena or to you.” It was matter-of-fact. “It’s the worst thing... The worst series of things I’ve ever done. I never meant for things to get so out of control, but they did, and I am sorry. But I know that doesn’t mean a lot until I can back it up. I just need a chance to try.”

Of all the uncomfortable, scary, or otherwise bizarre things that came with being back in New York, one of the strangest was having meetings. A schedule. An itinerary. Being raised by artists, spending her teen years in home schooling, and finishing her undergrad degree overseas had instilled in Vanessa a sort of laissez faire approach to life in a lot of ways. She had always worked, and worked damn hard, but having scheduled appointments, one after another, was new. They weren’t always fun, but this was one she was looking forward to.

She’d known Sabrina King for about four years (wow, four years?), but today would be the first time they’d actually meet in person. And after everything Sabrina had done for her, Vanessa could at least buy her dinner. And she had spent a lot of time at Cacio E Vino when she was at NYU. It was one of the few places that still held good memories (and still existed).

Vanessa was a little early, early enough to order a glass of wine, while she waited. Maybe she’d just answer a few emails until Sabrina arrived...

Eric could barely believe the reply she’d given him, and for a few minutes he didn’t even think about answering it while he did the dishes. Still, his mind wandered as he sat down behind his laptop to check his email, and by the time he was signing up for tonight’s yoga class, he’d picked up his phone four times already, trying to find a response.

Why could she possibly want to get him some coffee? She had to know that Eric was everything but her friend. Not after what she’d tried to do to his sister. Eventually, it was sheer curiosity that won out as he replied, asking for a place to meet. Nearly instantaneously, she replied back, and a few minutes later he was on his way to Communitea. He’d been there a few times when he was in high school, mostly when he was friends with Jonathan, who in turn was friends with Vanessa, but it had been years since he’d even thought about that place.

Strangely enough, during the cab ride there, Eric felt .. nervous. He wasn’t sure why, it’s not like it was him who’d betrayed their trust. And yet, his heartbeat sped up slightly the closer they got to the coffee shop. 

Finally, after a drive that seemed much longer than he’d anticipated, he paid the driver and stepped out, though he immediately felt confused as he looked at the building which he was sure used to be the coffee shop. Gantry Bar, it read now. This started to feel like fate was messing with him.

He saw Vanessa standing near the door, seemingly as confused as he was, so he walked up to her but made sure to keep enough space between the two of them. They weren’t friends, after all. “Very appropriate, this,” he said as a way of greeting. 

Before she’d even texted him the location, the coffee shop in Long Island where she’d worked a decade ago, she started walking. It would be over an hour, down Broadway, then 59th... but she could use the fresh air. And the time to think. With hands shoved in her coat pockets, she was still trying to find the words to say to Eric. She didn’t know where to begin, especially when she should have started over seven years ago. That was water under the bridge, she thought (or hoped?), as the East River flowed beneath the Queensboro and Vanessa walked on.

She knew she must be getting close, but so many of the visual cues she had come to count on were just... gone. She spotted the “Charge & Ride Inc.” sign at last, the black and gold sign over brick something she recognized immediately, but when she turned her gaze toward her old workplace – her first job back in the city, the place where she’d told Dan she’d submitted his first story to the New Yorker, where she had her first kiss with Nate – she was confronted with a new storefront entirely. She had known the speakeasy she’d tried to save was destined to become something else, but this left her stunned in the sidewalk. It wasn’t that Dan had changed or she had changed, the city had. She really never would be able to come back because her New York, at least her version of it, didn’t exist anymore.

She was stunned it was new, definitely, but the realization of what it was now dawned on her slower. A bar. She’d invited Eric to a bar. She’d invited Eric van der Woodsen, someone she desperately needed to apologize to, to a bar. Fuck. 

She nearly dropped her phone pulling it out of her pocket so fast, hurrying to text him to meet up somewhere else, but then she spotted him. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said, completely genuinely. She had a lot to apologize for, might as well start now. “I had no idea. Everything is so... different.” It was the first word she could think to describe the feeling, even if it didn’t wholly capture it all. “People still drink coffee here, right? There’s got to be a cafe nearby.”

The brunette raised her brow in surprise when the woman she’d flagged down had tape in her possession. While she wasn’t sure if it was going to work, she’d at least hope that it would get her far enough to the mall where she could buy another pair of heels to walk home in. “Honestly, you’re a life saviour for even stopping and paying attention — but to actually have tape, I might have to kiss you.” The girl laughed as she leaned against the wall and plucked the heel from her foot. 

“It’s for this one. I honestly can’t believe that they already broke. It’s only my third time taking them out on the town, but I guess the streets of new-york may have a been a little too rough for them after all.” She said with a groan before peering over the other. “Think we can do something with your tape and this heel?”

Vanessa wanted to shrug her off, say something about how any decent person would have stopped, but she knew that wasn’t true. Maybe there just weren’t that many ‘decent’ people in the city, but maybe that was her own old bias, reawakened since she touched down at JFK. This city was doing bad things to her – it always had. She was caught off-guard at the mention of a ‘kiss,’ even casually, but quickly recovered. She realized the woman’s broken heel for the first time.

“This one, then,” she said with authority and the reel full of gaffer tape in her hand, as if she was an expert in this kind of thing. She stuffed the toupee tape back in her back and shifted it behind her, raised eyebrows and a knowing nod the her only response to the ‘rough city streets’ comment. If only she knew. “We can try. It’s not going to be beautiful, but it’ll hold.” She ripped of a piece of tape from the roll and extended it to the stranger, before a stab at small talk. “You talk about the city like you’re not from around here.”

                     WHEN THE WOMAN congratulated her, romee tossed her hair over her shoulders as her smile grew bright. “ thank you, dear. “, she replied, nodding slowly before continuing. “ i worked hard to get there but, you know, it pays off at last. being on stage is just… a dream come true. “, the woman explained, genuinely excited to talk about her passion and her proudest achievement. when vanessa said she was a filmmaker, romee nodded in an impressed manner. “ a filmmaker, huh ? that is a big deal, vanessa. congratulations ! “, she said, smiling at the other. “ you deserve it. “. while she didn’t quite remember much of vanessa’s work, she did remember that the woman was quite passionate about filming. “ so – are you working on anything in new york city ? any films i should keep my eye on ? “.

Vanessa blinked slowly with the smile still plastered in place, forcing herself not to roll her eyes. Romee might have “worked hard” (or the spoiled socialite equivalent of it) to become a professional actress, but Vanessa could play the part of supportive... acquaintance? No, she was supportive. She was trying to be. She’d meant to leave the judgement in high school college. Vanessa exhaled into a more relaxed smile, wondering if Romee cared much for the kinds of films she made. She had certainly taken an interest in the documentary Vanessa had filmed in high school, the one that could have featured her heavily. “Just editing my next feature here. I can’t talk a lot about it yet, but yeah, definitely one to keep an eye out for.” It felt strange to share this with Romee, one of her proudest professional achievements. “I’m actually being interviewed about it tomorrow. It’s...” Exciting? Weird? “I don’t know, does that ever feel normal?” She assumed Romee had been interviewed about her work at least a dozen or more times by now.