In Fair Manhattan - Act 1, Scene 1
Act 1, Scene 1
Manhattan. A public place.
“Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!”
Hello, Upper East Siders! Gossip Girl here: your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan’s elite.
Top story on my page? Tonight, the great rich Lord and Lady Waldorf-Rose are holding the society event of the year. A fair assembly: Mister Baizen and his wife and son; also in attendance are Poppy Lifton, whose RSVP was confirmed just two hours ago, and the recently-released-from-rehab Georgina Sparks. Cyrus Rose’s feud with Bass family has put Princess S in a very awkward position, and she will be present with her little brother E to talk peace with the Lord and Lady.
If you be not of the House of Bass, come and crush a cup of wine!
(Except you, G, no need to pull a Lohan until you’ve got us all good and lulled into a false sense of security, right?)
SPOTTED: Two handmaidens headed to Bendel’s to pick up a few essentials for Lady B. Oopsie-did no one tell them Little J is meeting Princess S there for her final gown fitting? If cab W-R leaves 1136 5th Ave. for Henri Bendel at 3:46 PM traveling at 35mph, and cab VdB leaves 300 E 55th St. for the same location at 3:50 PM traveling at 40mph, at what time will their occupants meet and engage in a civil brawl worthy of all tomorrow’s headlines?
You know you love me!
XOXO Gossip Girl
- 4:17 PM -
Penelope and Hazel handed the sales clerk the black credit card Lord Rose had given them ‘for the explicit purpose of running errands for my step-daughter-if any item shows up on my monthly fee statement that Blair cannot vouch for, you both will go home to find a very airtight eviction notice beneath padlocks on your front doors.’
It was no secret that Lord Rose had power over every court judge in Manhattan, and could very easily make good on his threat. So, they let Blair’s maid Dorota keep the shiny card in a safe only she knew the combination to, and only asked her to open it when their lady gave them shopping assignments.
As there were only a few short hours until the beginning of her mother’s masquerade ball, B had told them to pick up her one-of-a-kind gilded mask, handcrafted feathered headpiece, and custom-dyed kitten heels; their orders were to collect these items as expeditiously as possible, then return to the Waldorf-Rose penthouse by 5 PM with Hazel in tow, to assist Dorota in getting their lady ready.
Chief on their minds, however, was not fighting afternoon traffic to reach their deadline on time. Instead, they were exchanging rapid text messages with their neutrally-aligned friends Nelly Yuki and Kati Farkas about how dreadful the Bass family’s newest charity cases were.
Daniel and Jennifer Humphrey, aka Lonely Boy and Little J according to Gossip Girl, aka Dan and Jenny to everyone else, had been close to Lily van der Woodsen before she married real estate mogul Bart Bass, and had been lucky to receive positions in his good favor. Dan had been able to publish a few short stories and a series of poems in The New Yorker, thanks to the family’s backing; and though Jenny’s prize had been an internship with Eleanor Waldorf-Rose’s house of designs, upon Bart Bass’s cold-hearted betrayal of the Waldorf-Rose family, her privilege had been immediately revoked. Now, she escorted the people’s unanimous princess and keeper-of-the-peace, Serena van der Woodsen, on petty errands around the city.
The day before, Penelope and Hazel had been walking through Saks Fifth Avenue with Isabel, laden with some shopping for Lady Blair, when they had nearly collided with the lowly Bass cronies. Jenny had been the very definition of a vicious hellcat, spurting untruths about their lady and insulting her family’s authority to withdraw an invitation to the most powerfully rich family in Manhattan. Penelope, Isabel, and Hazel, furious at such slanderous public speech at the expense of their benevolent Lord and Lady, had shot back with harsh but true statements about the nouveau riche Basses only being as influential as they were because of the Waldorf-Roses.
Princess Serena had interceded before it could get out of hand, but Penelope and Hazel were still steaming mad at the memory.
“We can’t let them humiliate B’s parents like that,” Is insisted, not for the first time that day, “It’s crappy and ungrateful.”
“I know,” Penelope agreed, adjusting her silver headband as the clerk rang up their purchases. “People will think we’ve gone soft.”
“I mean it, Pen,” Hazel crossed her arms and glared at no one in particular, though in her mind’s eye the daggers were directed at Dan and Jenny, wherever they happened to be. “If they do one more thing to piss me off, I’m totally going to let them have it. I have dirt on Little J Gossip Girl wouldn’t believe.”
Penelope took the procured black-and-white striped bag when it was handed over the counter and tucked the black credit card away in her purse before the temptation to purchase a particularly stunning scarf overwhelmed her. “Maybe you should focus on keeping yourself out of Gossip Girl before you start trying to dish on other people’s private lives. Or don’t you remember that investment banker at PJ Clarke’s?”
“Not the point, P!” Hazel put her hands on her hips, her cell phone clutched in her right fist. “I’ll do it, if they piss me off again.”
“This drama is between Lord Rose and Bart Bass; we just help out when Dorota is too busy to leave the penthouse.” Penelope slid the handles of Lady Blair’s shopping over her arm and let the weight of the bag sit in the crook of her elbow. “We don’t need to get involved and tarnish Lady B’s name by acting totally upper middle class.”
“True,” Hazel mused over the Humphreys’ economic standing, and felt a lot better. “You’re right.”
Her phone buzzed in her hand at the same time Penelope’s went off in her purse. “It’s probably Is wondering where we are.”
“No,” Penelope held out her screen for Hazel to read. “It’s Gossip Girl.”
Hazel scanned the SPOTTED! update and saw the news just as the door to the store opened and the littlest Humphrey made her way into the main part of the store. A saleslady bade her welcome, casting a nervous glance at her manager when she realized there were members of both the houses Bass and Waldorf-Rose in their shop at the same time. Two civil brawls had been attributed to them over the short course of one week - the manager could only hope the princess would arrive early for her final gown fitting and prevent a third.
“Don’t start anything,” Penelope warned Hazel in an undertone, eyes trained on the oblivious Jenny Humphrey. “Let her start it so we can pin everything on her, if the princess shows up. B will totally let us splurge with the card, and you can get that Marc Jacobs bag you’ve been begging your dad to buy you!”
“What’ll you get?” Hazel stared coldly at Jenny.
“The Mui Mui coat.” Penelope shrugged and checked her inbox for new text messages.
“I’ll glare at her!” Hazel decided triumphantly, glad she could put her daggers to use. “If she doesn’t respond, we’ll send a blast to Gossip Girl about how the Bass family only employs the company of pathetic weaklings...or, like, something like that. Good?”
Penelope nodded. “Good.”
So, when Little J strolled in their direction to wait by the dressing rooms, Hazel shot her a venomous glare and sneered at the tacky peasant shoes on her feet-after all, who wore Converse All-Stars in public and didn’t expect to be laughed at? The bottle blonde skank so totally and completely deserved it and anything else they could fling at her, especially after her cruel betrayal of Lady Eleanor.
“Oh my god,” Jenny rolled her eyes. “Will you ever grow up?”
“Will you ever stop being a low class tramp?” Penelope eyed her grungy ensemble with blatant distaste.
“You know I’m meeting S here in ten minutes, right?” Jenny ran her fingers through her fried, choppy locks. “You know what she said.”
“We’re not fighting,” Penelope informed their Lord and Lady’s enemy. “And you started it, anyway.”
Jenny shook her head, obviously annoyed. “Whatever. If you’re done here, you should clear out.”
“What are you going to do?” Hazel challenged. “Throw us out the door yourself?”
Little J pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and waved it in front of them tauntingly, finger poised over the button that would take her to her archive of personal pictures. “I’ll text Gossip Girl and make sure the whole city knows that you two made out at Nate Archibald’s birthday party. And, just for the sake of correctness, I’ll make sure to forward all those pics I snapped before you two realized what I was doing.”
Hazel’s eyes narrowed even more and she opened her own phone to compose an e-mail to , herself. “Don’t even mess with me today, Little J. I’ve got stuff on you that will make those pictures look like they were taken at Nate’s fifth birthday party. And you know I do.”
Before Penelope could draw her own cell and make a similar threat, the door opened again to admit the princess’s little brother Eric. He strode between the merchandise to come between them all, separating Jenny from Hazel and Penelope and taking the brunt of any feelings of loathing that sprang back and forth between their slitted eyes.
“Guys, break it up, all right? Put your phones away. We don’t need another scene like yesterday in the papers.”
Jenny put up her hands and gave her friend an innocent look. “I’m only defending myself. They started it.”
“Whatever!” Hazel stepped forward, but didn’t try to go around Eric, who stuck his arm out to keep her at bay. “You talked to us!”
“You glared at me.”
“You deserved it.”
“Oh, please.”
The conversation gained steam as the girls stood on their tiptoes to speak over Eric’s shoulders. “Just because you’re a low class traitor who happens to be his sister’s lapdog doesn’t mean you can disrespect your superiors, you ungrateful little -”
“Ungrateful?” Jenny clenched her jaw and threw her hands up in the air in disbelief. “What did your precious Lady B ever do for me, other than treat me like her glorified slave and lord it over me at every turn?”
Hazel shrieked with laughter as Penelope did step around Eric and moved into Jenny’s personal Brooklyn-ized space. “You think we didn’t have to earn our ranks too? You were such a nightmare, you’re lucky she even kept you on as long as she did! Then, how do you repay her?” Penelope moved closer and breathed a rude scoff right in the cheap wannabe-dressmaker’s face. “You align yourself with her family’s mortal enemies the first chance it looks like you’ll have a straight, easy rise to the top.”
“Well, guess what?” Hazel smirked, “We’re not going to make it easy on you.”
Eric pulled Penelope away from Jenny just as the latter pulled back her hand in preparation for a slap.
“Hey!” Serena, known city-wide for her golden smile and easy peace-loving manner, had arrived without any of them noticing. They had been too wrapped up in their verbal sparring match to pay much attention to the further comings-and-goings of Henri Bendel’s patrons, even ones as important as their princess. “This is the third time this week I’ve caught you guys screaming at each other! This is not how we should be acting if we want everything to go back to normal.”
“Things will never be normal again, S,” Hazel said, calming down in the tall blonde's willowy presence. “You know that.”
Serena crossed her arms and stared them all down. “I mean it, all of you,” her eyes landed on Jenny, who crossed her own arms-not in defiance, but in acceptance. “Keep this up and Cyrus won’t even want to talk to me tonight. He’s only letting me speak in Bart’s defense because of Aaron, and you know how he feels about all this hostility.”
Hazel and Penelope deflated, but kept their chins high. “Fine, we’ll go. But keep your girl in line.”
“Her girl -” Jenny began, but Serena shook her head silently and walked with her to the dressing rooms.
Outside, Isabel was seated impatiently in a yellow taxicab, waiting for the other two handmaidens. “Finally! B is getting cranky.”
In the top suite of the Milan condos on E 55th St., Lily Bass sat in front of a panoramic view of Manhattan with a cup of tea, behind a table laden with paperwork. She had not intended to go over it until the following evening, because up until very recently her social calendar had dictated she attend Lady Eleanor Waldorf-Rose’s masquerade ball with her husband Bart that night. Owing to recent events, she was resigned to stay in and look over a few proposals the board wanted to pitch Bart at their next meeting; she thought she would do her new husband a favor and weed out the more ludicrous ideas in favor of showing him those he would be most interested in.
All in all, she felt to blame for the rift between him and his good friend, Lord Cyrus Rose. A misunderstanding had resulted in the ultimate professional slight against the man who had, more or less, given her husband every earthly possession he had claim to, and the Waldorf-Roses would not allow them a chance to explain. Thankfully, Serena remained a friend to the Lord and Lady’s daughter, Blair, and had been able to maintain her invitation to the ball-she had also been able to convince her old friend Aaron to allow her an audience with Lord Cyrus after dinner to plead the Bass family’s case.
As she was debating between two rather similar plans to expand the company’s holdings in London, her cell phone went off and informed her that Eric was trying to contact her. Lily sighed in relief-all the small print was a strain on her eyes-and pressed accept. “Hello, sweetie. What’s going on?”
“It happened again, mom,” he said immediately, with no fanfare, and she knew exactly what he meant.
“Oh, no,” she removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose to alleviate an oncoming headache. “Will it hurt our chances?”
“Serena warned them to stop, but the ball can’t start soon enough.”
Lily nodded silently, knowing Eric could sense her movement even from Bendel’s. “Chuck didn’t come with you, did he?”
“No,” Eric answered, and she felt hugely relieved at that. Chuck was hot-tempered and on edge lately, and his presence at yet another civil brawl could only mean it would soon explode no matter how much Serena tried to douse its flames. “He’s in his suite at The Palace, sulking as usual.”
Her step-son had locked himself almost exclusively in suite 1812 for days, shutting the windows and closing the curtains to keep out any hint of light that might stir him from his irregular slumber, turning on his lamps when it was too dark to see, and filling the entire hotel with ill-tempered vibes that only put Bart in an even worse mood with him than usual. Lily only hoped that whatever was bothering Chuck so fiercely would be remedied with the upcoming reconciliation between the two old families, but seriously doubted whether or not that had much to do with it.
“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” she wondered, thinking perhaps he had confided in Eric one dark evening.
“No.” Lily’s heart sank at this. “He won’t tell me anything. Have you asked him?”
“I did, a few days ago, but he wouldn’t tell me either. He won’t say a word to Bart, even when he does come over for dinner.” Lily frowned, pausing to sip her tea and absorb its calming aroma before she continued. “Of course, Bart says he just gets like this every once in a while, but I’m not certain... This feels different.”
“I agree,” Eric said, and she heard the sound of traffic that meant he had stepped outside. “I’ll call Nate.”
Nate Archibald had been Chuck Bass’s best friend since before kindergarten, when The Captain had attended a meeting with Bart and left his son with the au pair to keep the young Bass heir entertained. Chuck had bragged about his many expensive toys in an attempt to stake his claim as the dominant four-year-old, an action to which Nate had responded with a simple shrug before he asked to play with the electric train. Ever since that day, they had been nearly inseparable-they attended parties in each other’s company, supported each other’s every endeavor, and stuck up for each other when the need arose. They confided their secrets the way any teenage male might, while playing video games or downing $1000 shots of alcohol in privileged sections of exclusive nightclubs.
So, when Nate stepped into suite 1812 early that slowly darkening orange evening, he knew whatever was bothering Chuck would shortly thereafter be just another footnote in his archive of Bass knowledge.
Without bothering to knock, he opened Chuck’s chamber door and shut it behind him. The darkness that pervaded the large, expertly decorated bedroom lightened in accordance with his rapidly blinking eyes after just one minute of adjustment, and he was able to make out the two lumps beneath cool Egyptian cotton that meant his best friend was not alone.
“Chuck,” he called, picking up a discarded pillow and throwing it at what he assumed was Chuck’s head. “Wake up, man, its after 6.”
A groan was his answer as Chuck shifted on his mattress and pulled his bedclothes over his head. “That early?”
“Early?”
Nate laughed and flicked the light on in blatant disregard for a certain red-haired bed partner’s urgent protests. She managed to cover herself with her crumpled clothes and rushed to the adjacent bathroom to dress, but not before Nate was able to take a good, ungentlemanly look at Chuck’s latest conquest. “Nice.”
Chuck shrugged and rubbed his hand through his already gravity-defying hair. “She was all right.”
Nate raised his eyebrows and flopped onto his usual spot on the bedroom couch. “Just all right? She looked more than all right to me.”
“She likes to talk a lot,” Chuck pulled on his pajama bottoms and stretched as he got to his feet. “I’m tired of these insipid Manhattan debutantes. Nothing excites them anymore, not even the impressive sight of me, naked and lavishing them with attention.”
“I’ll take your disturbing and very unwelcome word on that last thing,” Nate put his hands behind his head and looked at his best friend through the gaps in his fringe. “So, what’s up?”
“Sorry?” Chuck pulled a shirt over his head and moved to his mirror to comb his hair. “Is something supposed to be up?”
“Nope.”
Nate knew better than to push Chuck when he did not want to be prodded. He would reveal his sorrow, in time, and most probably under the influence of alcohol. That was why Nate had agreed to Eric van der Woodsen’s request, but also why he had risked Eric’s neck in asking him to procure him an extra invitation to the Waldorf-Roses’ ball. He was obliged to attend, per his mother’s request and his mild friendly acquaintance with the Lord and Lady’s beautiful daughter Blair, not to mention Serena’s incessant pestering that he had to go or she would never forgive him. So, if Lily wanted to know her step-son’s grievances that night, Nate would need him at the ball with him.
Luckily, it was a masquerade, and they could conceal Chuck’s very recognizable face behind some disguise or another.
“So, want to go to a party tonight?”
Chuck glanced at him in his mirror’s reflection and smirked. “What are you suggesting, Nathaniel?”
Nate reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew two invitations. “Still got that devil outfit?”
Chuck smirked. “You have to ask?”
“Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.”
Manhattan. A public place.
“Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!”
Hello, Upper East Siders! Gossip Girl here: your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan’s elite.
Top story on my page? Tonight, the great rich Lord and Lady Waldorf-Rose are holding the society event of the year. A fair assembly: Mister Baizen and his wife and son; also in attendance are Poppy Lifton, whose RSVP was confirmed just two hours ago, and the recently-released-from-rehab Georgina Sparks. Cyrus Rose’s feud with Bass family has put Princess S in a very awkward position, and she will be present with her little brother E to talk peace with the Lord and Lady.
If you be not of the House of Bass, come and crush a cup of wine!
(Except you, G, no need to pull a Lohan until you’ve got us all good and lulled into a false sense of security, right?)
SPOTTED: Two handmaidens headed to Bendel’s to pick up a few essentials for Lady B. Oopsie-did no one tell them Little J is meeting Princess S there for her final gown fitting? If cab W-R leaves 1136 5th Ave. for Henri Bendel at 3:46 PM traveling at 35mph, and cab VdB leaves 300 E 55th St. for the same location at 3:50 PM traveling at 40mph, at what time will their occupants meet and engage in a civil brawl worthy of all tomorrow’s headlines?
You know you love me!
XOXO Gossip Girl
- 4:17 PM -
Penelope and Hazel handed the sales clerk the black credit card Lord Rose had given them ‘for the explicit purpose of running errands for my step-daughter-if any item shows up on my monthly fee statement that Blair cannot vouch for, you both will go home to find a very airtight eviction notice beneath padlocks on your front doors.’
It was no secret that Lord Rose had power over every court judge in Manhattan, and could very easily make good on his threat. So, they let Blair’s maid Dorota keep the shiny card in a safe only she knew the combination to, and only asked her to open it when their lady gave them shopping assignments.
As there were only a few short hours until the beginning of her mother’s masquerade ball, B had told them to pick up her one-of-a-kind gilded mask, handcrafted feathered headpiece, and custom-dyed kitten heels; their orders were to collect these items as expeditiously as possible, then return to the Waldorf-Rose penthouse by 5 PM with Hazel in tow, to assist Dorota in getting their lady ready.
Chief on their minds, however, was not fighting afternoon traffic to reach their deadline on time. Instead, they were exchanging rapid text messages with their neutrally-aligned friends Nelly Yuki and Kati Farkas about how dreadful the Bass family’s newest charity cases were.
Daniel and Jennifer Humphrey, aka Lonely Boy and Little J according to Gossip Girl, aka Dan and Jenny to everyone else, had been close to Lily van der Woodsen before she married real estate mogul Bart Bass, and had been lucky to receive positions in his good favor. Dan had been able to publish a few short stories and a series of poems in The New Yorker, thanks to the family’s backing; and though Jenny’s prize had been an internship with Eleanor Waldorf-Rose’s house of designs, upon Bart Bass’s cold-hearted betrayal of the Waldorf-Rose family, her privilege had been immediately revoked. Now, she escorted the people’s unanimous princess and keeper-of-the-peace, Serena van der Woodsen, on petty errands around the city.
The day before, Penelope and Hazel had been walking through Saks Fifth Avenue with Isabel, laden with some shopping for Lady Blair, when they had nearly collided with the lowly Bass cronies. Jenny had been the very definition of a vicious hellcat, spurting untruths about their lady and insulting her family’s authority to withdraw an invitation to the most powerfully rich family in Manhattan. Penelope, Isabel, and Hazel, furious at such slanderous public speech at the expense of their benevolent Lord and Lady, had shot back with harsh but true statements about the nouveau riche Basses only being as influential as they were because of the Waldorf-Roses.
Princess Serena had interceded before it could get out of hand, but Penelope and Hazel were still steaming mad at the memory.
“We can’t let them humiliate B’s parents like that,” Is insisted, not for the first time that day, “It’s crappy and ungrateful.”
“I know,” Penelope agreed, adjusting her silver headband as the clerk rang up their purchases. “People will think we’ve gone soft.”
“I mean it, Pen,” Hazel crossed her arms and glared at no one in particular, though in her mind’s eye the daggers were directed at Dan and Jenny, wherever they happened to be. “If they do one more thing to piss me off, I’m totally going to let them have it. I have dirt on Little J Gossip Girl wouldn’t believe.”
Penelope took the procured black-and-white striped bag when it was handed over the counter and tucked the black credit card away in her purse before the temptation to purchase a particularly stunning scarf overwhelmed her. “Maybe you should focus on keeping yourself out of Gossip Girl before you start trying to dish on other people’s private lives. Or don’t you remember that investment banker at PJ Clarke’s?”
“Not the point, P!” Hazel put her hands on her hips, her cell phone clutched in her right fist. “I’ll do it, if they piss me off again.”
“This drama is between Lord Rose and Bart Bass; we just help out when Dorota is too busy to leave the penthouse.” Penelope slid the handles of Lady Blair’s shopping over her arm and let the weight of the bag sit in the crook of her elbow. “We don’t need to get involved and tarnish Lady B’s name by acting totally upper middle class.”
“True,” Hazel mused over the Humphreys’ economic standing, and felt a lot better. “You’re right.”
Her phone buzzed in her hand at the same time Penelope’s went off in her purse. “It’s probably Is wondering where we are.”
“No,” Penelope held out her screen for Hazel to read. “It’s Gossip Girl.”
Hazel scanned the SPOTTED! update and saw the news just as the door to the store opened and the littlest Humphrey made her way into the main part of the store. A saleslady bade her welcome, casting a nervous glance at her manager when she realized there were members of both the houses Bass and Waldorf-Rose in their shop at the same time. Two civil brawls had been attributed to them over the short course of one week - the manager could only hope the princess would arrive early for her final gown fitting and prevent a third.
“Don’t start anything,” Penelope warned Hazel in an undertone, eyes trained on the oblivious Jenny Humphrey. “Let her start it so we can pin everything on her, if the princess shows up. B will totally let us splurge with the card, and you can get that Marc Jacobs bag you’ve been begging your dad to buy you!”
“What’ll you get?” Hazel stared coldly at Jenny.
“The Mui Mui coat.” Penelope shrugged and checked her inbox for new text messages.
“I’ll glare at her!” Hazel decided triumphantly, glad she could put her daggers to use. “If she doesn’t respond, we’ll send a blast to Gossip Girl about how the Bass family only employs the company of pathetic weaklings...or, like, something like that. Good?”
Penelope nodded. “Good.”
So, when Little J strolled in their direction to wait by the dressing rooms, Hazel shot her a venomous glare and sneered at the tacky peasant shoes on her feet-after all, who wore Converse All-Stars in public and didn’t expect to be laughed at? The bottle blonde skank so totally and completely deserved it and anything else they could fling at her, especially after her cruel betrayal of Lady Eleanor.
“Oh my god,” Jenny rolled her eyes. “Will you ever grow up?”
“Will you ever stop being a low class tramp?” Penelope eyed her grungy ensemble with blatant distaste.
“You know I’m meeting S here in ten minutes, right?” Jenny ran her fingers through her fried, choppy locks. “You know what she said.”
“We’re not fighting,” Penelope informed their Lord and Lady’s enemy. “And you started it, anyway.”
Jenny shook her head, obviously annoyed. “Whatever. If you’re done here, you should clear out.”
“What are you going to do?” Hazel challenged. “Throw us out the door yourself?”
Little J pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and waved it in front of them tauntingly, finger poised over the button that would take her to her archive of personal pictures. “I’ll text Gossip Girl and make sure the whole city knows that you two made out at Nate Archibald’s birthday party. And, just for the sake of correctness, I’ll make sure to forward all those pics I snapped before you two realized what I was doing.”
Hazel’s eyes narrowed even more and she opened her own phone to compose an e-mail to , herself. “Don’t even mess with me today, Little J. I’ve got stuff on you that will make those pictures look like they were taken at Nate’s fifth birthday party. And you know I do.”
Before Penelope could draw her own cell and make a similar threat, the door opened again to admit the princess’s little brother Eric. He strode between the merchandise to come between them all, separating Jenny from Hazel and Penelope and taking the brunt of any feelings of loathing that sprang back and forth between their slitted eyes.
“Guys, break it up, all right? Put your phones away. We don’t need another scene like yesterday in the papers.”
Jenny put up her hands and gave her friend an innocent look. “I’m only defending myself. They started it.”
“Whatever!” Hazel stepped forward, but didn’t try to go around Eric, who stuck his arm out to keep her at bay. “You talked to us!”
“You glared at me.”
“You deserved it.”
“Oh, please.”
The conversation gained steam as the girls stood on their tiptoes to speak over Eric’s shoulders. “Just because you’re a low class traitor who happens to be his sister’s lapdog doesn’t mean you can disrespect your superiors, you ungrateful little -”
“Ungrateful?” Jenny clenched her jaw and threw her hands up in the air in disbelief. “What did your precious Lady B ever do for me, other than treat me like her glorified slave and lord it over me at every turn?”
Hazel shrieked with laughter as Penelope did step around Eric and moved into Jenny’s personal Brooklyn-ized space. “You think we didn’t have to earn our ranks too? You were such a nightmare, you’re lucky she even kept you on as long as she did! Then, how do you repay her?” Penelope moved closer and breathed a rude scoff right in the cheap wannabe-dressmaker’s face. “You align yourself with her family’s mortal enemies the first chance it looks like you’ll have a straight, easy rise to the top.”
“Well, guess what?” Hazel smirked, “We’re not going to make it easy on you.”
Eric pulled Penelope away from Jenny just as the latter pulled back her hand in preparation for a slap.
“Hey!” Serena, known city-wide for her golden smile and easy peace-loving manner, had arrived without any of them noticing. They had been too wrapped up in their verbal sparring match to pay much attention to the further comings-and-goings of Henri Bendel’s patrons, even ones as important as their princess. “This is the third time this week I’ve caught you guys screaming at each other! This is not how we should be acting if we want everything to go back to normal.”
“Things will never be normal again, S,” Hazel said, calming down in the tall blonde's willowy presence. “You know that.”
Serena crossed her arms and stared them all down. “I mean it, all of you,” her eyes landed on Jenny, who crossed her own arms-not in defiance, but in acceptance. “Keep this up and Cyrus won’t even want to talk to me tonight. He’s only letting me speak in Bart’s defense because of Aaron, and you know how he feels about all this hostility.”
Hazel and Penelope deflated, but kept their chins high. “Fine, we’ll go. But keep your girl in line.”
“Her girl -” Jenny began, but Serena shook her head silently and walked with her to the dressing rooms.
Outside, Isabel was seated impatiently in a yellow taxicab, waiting for the other two handmaidens. “Finally! B is getting cranky.”
In the top suite of the Milan condos on E 55th St., Lily Bass sat in front of a panoramic view of Manhattan with a cup of tea, behind a table laden with paperwork. She had not intended to go over it until the following evening, because up until very recently her social calendar had dictated she attend Lady Eleanor Waldorf-Rose’s masquerade ball with her husband Bart that night. Owing to recent events, she was resigned to stay in and look over a few proposals the board wanted to pitch Bart at their next meeting; she thought she would do her new husband a favor and weed out the more ludicrous ideas in favor of showing him those he would be most interested in.
All in all, she felt to blame for the rift between him and his good friend, Lord Cyrus Rose. A misunderstanding had resulted in the ultimate professional slight against the man who had, more or less, given her husband every earthly possession he had claim to, and the Waldorf-Roses would not allow them a chance to explain. Thankfully, Serena remained a friend to the Lord and Lady’s daughter, Blair, and had been able to maintain her invitation to the ball-she had also been able to convince her old friend Aaron to allow her an audience with Lord Cyrus after dinner to plead the Bass family’s case.
As she was debating between two rather similar plans to expand the company’s holdings in London, her cell phone went off and informed her that Eric was trying to contact her. Lily sighed in relief-all the small print was a strain on her eyes-and pressed accept. “Hello, sweetie. What’s going on?”
“It happened again, mom,” he said immediately, with no fanfare, and she knew exactly what he meant.
“Oh, no,” she removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose to alleviate an oncoming headache. “Will it hurt our chances?”
“Serena warned them to stop, but the ball can’t start soon enough.”
Lily nodded silently, knowing Eric could sense her movement even from Bendel’s. “Chuck didn’t come with you, did he?”
“No,” Eric answered, and she felt hugely relieved at that. Chuck was hot-tempered and on edge lately, and his presence at yet another civil brawl could only mean it would soon explode no matter how much Serena tried to douse its flames. “He’s in his suite at The Palace, sulking as usual.”
Her step-son had locked himself almost exclusively in suite 1812 for days, shutting the windows and closing the curtains to keep out any hint of light that might stir him from his irregular slumber, turning on his lamps when it was too dark to see, and filling the entire hotel with ill-tempered vibes that only put Bart in an even worse mood with him than usual. Lily only hoped that whatever was bothering Chuck so fiercely would be remedied with the upcoming reconciliation between the two old families, but seriously doubted whether or not that had much to do with it.
“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” she wondered, thinking perhaps he had confided in Eric one dark evening.
“No.” Lily’s heart sank at this. “He won’t tell me anything. Have you asked him?”
“I did, a few days ago, but he wouldn’t tell me either. He won’t say a word to Bart, even when he does come over for dinner.” Lily frowned, pausing to sip her tea and absorb its calming aroma before she continued. “Of course, Bart says he just gets like this every once in a while, but I’m not certain... This feels different.”
“I agree,” Eric said, and she heard the sound of traffic that meant he had stepped outside. “I’ll call Nate.”
Nate Archibald had been Chuck Bass’s best friend since before kindergarten, when The Captain had attended a meeting with Bart and left his son with the au pair to keep the young Bass heir entertained. Chuck had bragged about his many expensive toys in an attempt to stake his claim as the dominant four-year-old, an action to which Nate had responded with a simple shrug before he asked to play with the electric train. Ever since that day, they had been nearly inseparable-they attended parties in each other’s company, supported each other’s every endeavor, and stuck up for each other when the need arose. They confided their secrets the way any teenage male might, while playing video games or downing $1000 shots of alcohol in privileged sections of exclusive nightclubs.
So, when Nate stepped into suite 1812 early that slowly darkening orange evening, he knew whatever was bothering Chuck would shortly thereafter be just another footnote in his archive of Bass knowledge.
Without bothering to knock, he opened Chuck’s chamber door and shut it behind him. The darkness that pervaded the large, expertly decorated bedroom lightened in accordance with his rapidly blinking eyes after just one minute of adjustment, and he was able to make out the two lumps beneath cool Egyptian cotton that meant his best friend was not alone.
“Chuck,” he called, picking up a discarded pillow and throwing it at what he assumed was Chuck’s head. “Wake up, man, its after 6.”
A groan was his answer as Chuck shifted on his mattress and pulled his bedclothes over his head. “That early?”
“Early?”
Nate laughed and flicked the light on in blatant disregard for a certain red-haired bed partner’s urgent protests. She managed to cover herself with her crumpled clothes and rushed to the adjacent bathroom to dress, but not before Nate was able to take a good, ungentlemanly look at Chuck’s latest conquest. “Nice.”
Chuck shrugged and rubbed his hand through his already gravity-defying hair. “She was all right.”
Nate raised his eyebrows and flopped onto his usual spot on the bedroom couch. “Just all right? She looked more than all right to me.”
“She likes to talk a lot,” Chuck pulled on his pajama bottoms and stretched as he got to his feet. “I’m tired of these insipid Manhattan debutantes. Nothing excites them anymore, not even the impressive sight of me, naked and lavishing them with attention.”
“I’ll take your disturbing and very unwelcome word on that last thing,” Nate put his hands behind his head and looked at his best friend through the gaps in his fringe. “So, what’s up?”
“Sorry?” Chuck pulled a shirt over his head and moved to his mirror to comb his hair. “Is something supposed to be up?”
“Nope.”
Nate knew better than to push Chuck when he did not want to be prodded. He would reveal his sorrow, in time, and most probably under the influence of alcohol. That was why Nate had agreed to Eric van der Woodsen’s request, but also why he had risked Eric’s neck in asking him to procure him an extra invitation to the Waldorf-Roses’ ball. He was obliged to attend, per his mother’s request and his mild friendly acquaintance with the Lord and Lady’s beautiful daughter Blair, not to mention Serena’s incessant pestering that he had to go or she would never forgive him. So, if Lily wanted to know her step-son’s grievances that night, Nate would need him at the ball with him.
Luckily, it was a masquerade, and they could conceal Chuck’s very recognizable face behind some disguise or another.
“So, want to go to a party tonight?”
Chuck glanced at him in his mirror’s reflection and smirked. “What are you suggesting, Nathaniel?”
Nate reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew two invitations. “Still got that devil outfit?”
Chuck smirked. “You have to ask?”
“Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.”