blairwaldxrfs-blog

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

I am queen of all my sins forgotten. Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself.

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

Blair detested cigarettes — which was ironic considering she’d been a closet smoker since eighth grade when she had first tried one. It’s why she could pick up the scent of the smoke even when it wasn’t directly hitting her. She had her legs crossed, an open cross-word puzzle out and no pesky beach-goers bothering her moment of sanity ( planning a royal wedding was more stressful than she’d thought it would be ) until she heard a bark and could smell the smoke. Annoyed, she jammed a cap onto her ballpoint pen and looked up from her spot in the grass.

“Excuse me,” Blair spoke up, voice shrill, crinkling her nose as her eyes followed the dog. “Can you get your mutt back home.” She sneered. It was no secret that she did not have a soft spot for dogs. They were big, needy, loud, reckless—the only dog she had a soft-spot for was Handsome and he had turned out to be a bad good-luck charm.

Her eyes looked up to see who the creature belonged to and she rolled her eyes instantly when she spotted the Rockefeller son. There was something about him that made her skin crawl. “And put out that ghastly cigarette,” She admonished, curling her lips in horror at the sight before her.

Ah yes, the Hamptons. A few days fashionably late to the figurative and literal party, Thaddeus couldn’t care less if he tried. The sole reason as to why he had even bothered cutting short his summer activities at Harvard and around the world, where Summer was a much more interesting place than a white noveau rich neighborhood in a seashore that wasn’t even particularly clean or beautiful, was because - accordingly to his aunt, it would be good if he showed interest in people and their lives, in a community he had been part for… well, twenty-one years of his twenty-one years. 

He didn’t give a shit about the community but he did care for his aunt’s advice - if you want to keep people on your side, you need to at the very least pretend to show a minimum interest on them. Fine, whatever then. Accepting of his fate, not even bothering to unpack properly, TJ decided to go for a walk - if he decided to stay inside, he would, for the rest of his summer. Taking the whole twenty-minute drive down to Cooper’s Beach, with Jack Daniels by his side, he knew he was bound to at the very least meet former school mates, if not current University colleagues and if not even more, people he’d grown up with. 

The very perspective was draining but at least he could find someone to go drink with at home. “This place is killing my spirit, you know that?” He asked absently at his dog, who was more interested in trot along the boardwalk. “Maybe I should work on getting that cancer.” He sighed to himself, lighting up a cigarette the very moment before his eyes found another pair of known ones. “I told you.” He sneered at his dog before waving absently. If he was lucky, there would be no interaction for the next weeks - but alas, he was not lucky.

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

Her latest phone call with Sophie and the florist had gone up in flames—which had left her needing an iced coffee stat. Blair had already paid for it and was passing the waiting time by idly checking her phone before she’d caught a glimpse of blonde hair that could only belong to Charlie Rhodes.

She had wandered over with no ulterior motive other than to say a quick hello, check up on how she was recovering from her first grand event, grab her coffee and go back home. But then she caught sight of the notebook, her eyes narrowing in curiosity as she tried to gather what it was that Charlie was writing.

“You don’t need to bite my head off,” Blair snapped. “I was only coming over to say hello.” She hoisted her bag higher up onto her arm, resting one hand on her hip as she arched her head to see if she could see the journal better from another angle. "It’s called being polite. Heard of it?” She nodded her head in the direction of the book, “What are you writing?” She asked.

If there was anything Ivy had learned from her first Upper East Side event it was; this wasn’t going to be easy getting this trust fund. Yeah sure, she had Eric and Serena on her side but somehow she had to win the people around them over; convince them that she was this character. A worthy challenge for a determined Ivy.

Set up in a Little Cafe, Ivy had the brown journal infront of her. Scribbing down the details of the events that had happened of the night before someone’s shadow had over cast her pages. The blonde had glanced up, looking at the figure. “Yes, I write.. Is that a bigger sign that I’m not from here?” She spoke with a strong bitter tone. Ivy generally wasn’t having a great day to start and the last thing she needed was another shark bite from an Upper East Side Zombie. 

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

Blair has never been the biggest fan of the beach. Her lips curl in distaste as she walks along the sand, a towel slung over her arm and all her necessities stuffed into a red Saint Laurent tote she has slung over her shoulder. But she figures she should enjoy it while she’s here.

She freezes as she hears someone exclaim, rolling her eyes at their poor choice of words. Usually, Blair would make a biting comment and move on her way but she vaguely recognises the woman as someone she met at the party — she wants to say Rose, but it might have been Rosemary, or Rosalie; something of the sort.

Her eyes jump straight to the book she’s holding, water damaging the pages, and let’s out a quiet snort. “The Great Gatsby is overrated.” Blair states. Fitzgerald, Hemingway—the whole lot was boring. “You can find a copy at any bookstore, don’t lose your head,” and Blair pauses, shaking her head as she recalls the distasteful swear word that had fallen out of her mouth earlier ( she’s funny about things like that, words like fuck, they’re too brash, too unladylike for her ) “or your manners over it.”

She’d so been looking forward to beautiful summer mornings like today, The Hampton’s is truly a picturesque place and a perfect getaway to take some time away from the grueling hard work of New York City. While Rosalie still fully intends to keep up appearances and make herself known, introducing herself to important vacationers that have a high caliber in the community, she also makes sure to take time to herself, relaxing and enjoying the summer here.

This morning before she left for the beach, she placed her favourite book into her bag “The Great Gatsby”, she will never tier of reading her absolute favourite book. Making her way onto the strip of sand, Rosalie beelines for an open spot near the water, places down a beach towel and makes herself comfortable. Having applied sun lotion on before she left, and leaving in only a bikini, flats and a cover-up - which she slips off before reclining onto her towel - she is almost immediately planted into the zone of utter bliss.

She loves to listen to the waves, which is why she plants herself so close to the water. However, she never usually bring out her most treasured book, so when water makes it’s way onto the page - and her, but that’s the least of her worries - she shoots into a sit-up position and exclaims “Fuck! That’s just fantastic.” she touches the water on the page, it’s edges already curling. “My beauty is tarnished!“

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

COMPETITION.

event: summer’s nights welcome bash. time: 1:20 a.m. availability: @kaiaxmay

Blair sits in one of the unoccupied booths in the corner, one empty flute that was filled with a French 75 in front of her. Louis was supposed to call half-an-hour ago. But he hasn’t. She’s starting to feel that tingly feeling in her spine, the one that spreads all over her body and makes her feel warm, a light dizziness that makes it hard to balance. Tipsy.

Her eyes roam the party, again, but nothing has happened in the half an hour since she’s excused herself. These parties don’t hold the same thrill that they used to for her anymore. There’s something that feels off for her — she blames it on this impending wedding. Ever since Louis got down on one knee, ever since he offered up a yellow Harry Winston diamond, ever since he whisked her off to Monaco— she just hasn’t felt the same. Blair’s been waiting all night to feel that spark again. 

Events like these were the highlight of her summer—tradition, elegance, notoriety, schmoozing, elitism. But Blair feels empty as she makes her rounds around the club, greeting people who’s last names envy her own, laughing along to jokes she doesn’t find funny, accepting congratulations for an engagement she’s starting to not want— Blair lets out a soft, audible sigh and checks the time on her phone. 

1 AM.

Too early for her to leave. It’s undignified to make an exit before 2 A.M. when she has nowhere in the world to go. Blair hasn’t even sorted out living arrangements yet. Besides, she needs something to happen before she can go home. Blair needs to feel the spark, the thrill, the electricity, the excitement and then she knows she still belongs to this world. But that feeling is slipping away from her, like the silk fabrics she used to play with at her mother’s atelier - slipping through her fingers, falling, disappearing.

Hi, Louis. Just checking up on you, sweetheart. Miss you, B. xoxo

Blair presses send without a second thought and wishes she was drunk - well and truly in oblivion. But women like her aren’t afforded the luxury of drunken indulgence. They have to study the room like a hawk, present themselves as upstanding members of society. It’s what she’s always done—but the pressure is multiplied now that she represents the Grimaldi name in everything she does.

Her nails drum against the table in front of her, eyes critically scanning the crowd until—she narrows them, lips parting open in slight surprise before curling into a frown of distaste. What is she doing here. Blair thinks as she slides out of the booth and swiftly storms off into the direction of Kaia Presley: the bane of Blair’s existence.

In high school, she’d been in the year above Blair. She’d been unforgettable, unmemorable. A ghost that had walked the halls. Had never registered on Blair’s radar. Until. Blair pauses, sucking in a deep breathe as she stands ten feet away from her—girls like Kaia were not Hampton’s material.

Until— until Blair had secretly submitted her work into a poetry competition and the award had gone to Kaia instead. From that day on she had remembered Kaia’s name. She had made it her mission to uncover all the dirt on the girl who’d proven to be an academic threat that she had never noticed before. Blair pursed her lips as she watched her interact with the crowd. It was one thing to be a nobody who got a scholarship to Constance, whatever. It was another to get a scholarship to Colombia, whatever. But it was unacceptable to turn up unannounced, uninvited, to the Hampton’s.

Kaia wasn’t even in her uniform—white dress shirt, black slacks, black vest and bow-tie: the traditional uniform of a cater-waiter. No, instead she was dressed as if she belonged at this party. Blair could pick up the discount dress, the flat hair, the lack of any jewellery — but at the end of the day, Kaia did blend in. She was Old Hollywood glamour gorgeous, and for that Blair hated her. Among many other reasons.

“Kaia,” Blair said smoothly as she came closer, her fingers curling in around the crook of Kaia’s elbow and pushing her closer towards her. Her voice held warning as she spoke to her with a light, friendly smile. “Shouldn’t you be in uniform? I doubt your employers would want to see you mingling with the guests.”

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

carterbaixen:

Carter snorted, as unperturbed by Blair’s attitude as ever. “My mistake,” they said. They met Blair’s gaze squarely, arching an eyebrow ever so slightly as if to invite her to say more. They’d never cared about the judgement of the upper society set, especially not a little girl like Blair who only seemed to be seeking someone’s approval. Whether it was her mother, a boyfriend, Serena, or even Gossip Girl, Blair’s Queen B status had always seemed just a desperate ploy to him.

A slight smile touched his lips, still indicating that they werne’t moved by her vitriol. “I realize you would be confused, considering coming to someone’s defense implies the presence of compassion,” they said, the half-smile present on their lips. “Apparently that’s what you think. I’m not going to waste my time defending my actions to you, Blair. It’s good to see that you haven’t changed one bit – like the subway, your attitude is a New York staple.”

Carter’s expression still didn’t flicker, not showing an ounce of emotion at Blair’s failed attempts at insults. “Actually, it seems more like yours,” they said coolly. “After all, it looks as though they learned from your example. Look, they’re even wearing your cute little headbands.”

Blair frowned. Carter was annoying — the living embodiment of disappointment and what could have been’s. Blair had admired them, when she was younger, more foolish; all the girls, and all the boys, had. They had been untouchable and now they were a cautionary tale. But all they were now was embarrassing, a little sad. Blair looked at them and saw a Golden Boy diminished. It had excited her, once. Blair cringes as she thinks about it — her Yale rejection, her one week of spiralling out of control, and Carter - they’d swooped in just in time to aid her in her destruction.

“Compassion is for the weak.” Blair bit out. “But I’m surprised you think you have any, considering what you did to Nate.” She raises an eyebrow, a challenge. This is why she didn’t like them: they thought they were better than all of this when they were the exact same, the same blue blood backstabbing type. Blair still remembers that Lost Weekend, and she still remembers the foolish adoration in which Nate had idolised Carter ( for years ). They weren’t any better than she is. 

“But you’re not a New York staple.” Blair smiles sweetly, “So why don’t you get back to your extravagant vagabond existence of slumming it and leave the rest of us alone.”

Blair’s eyes wandered over to the gaggle of girls. Headbands, indeed. She rolled her eyes, bored with them. “I haven’t worn headbands since high school. I can’t help the lasting fashion influence I’ve had over New York.” 

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

ivydckins:

Sure, the right sort of people and Ivy would some somewhat untouchable. The great Blair Waldorf would know all about the right people, Ivy had Serena on her side but she could somehow in some strange way she could see Blair was just trying to look after Serena’s best interests. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ivy responded simply to the brunette, the smile itching onto her red painted lips. “Thanks for the top advice.” Ivy replied. 

Her Eyebrow had itched up. This was Ivy’s first time in the Hamptons and the Upper East side, she was usually just used to rolling out of bed and throwing her hair into a messy ponytail with chucking her dirty whiteconverse on and leaving to a job she had no desire in acually doing but i funded her acting. Now she actually had to start making sure her hair stayed this color with highlights and hair treatments along with the weekly manicure. “Oh, i’d be useless as a It Girl.” Lies, that statment was lies to Ivy. She would loves it. “But i’m not sure what you mean by We? sounds like your somewhat deciding i’m some petty self help project.”  she tolf the Brunette. Maybe being Blair’s and Serena’s Pet Project would be good; it could be a start for her to get close. 

Somehow the mention of her new family had peaked Blair’s interest which had made her give a laugh, a cooler less nervous laugh. “What can I say? Mother thinks she knows best.” Ivy quipped. Truth be told, she was just some random wanna-be actress Carole picked up from the side of the roads with the temptation of money but Ivy wasn’t going to spill her guts. This girl could ruin her straight here and now. She needed that paycheck. “But i’m here now, so thats the main thing.” she lied perfectly, without a flinch of emotions chanigng on her face. 

Blair nodded her head along as Charlie talked, half listening and half thinking about the Salvatore Ferragamo embellished sandals she had seen as she had last perused Cercle d’Or. The girl was a drab. Boring. The equivalent to engaging in conversation with Charlie Rhodes was watching paint dry. Blair was expecting some wild party girl a la pre-boarding school S. The Rhodes girls were supposed to be exciting. All Blair could gather from the woman in front of her was a nervous wreck who’d been tossed into the high life without knowing a thing or two about it.

“Yes, well.” Blair pursed her lips, shaking off the role of Charlie playing It Girl—it was only an idea, mainly because Blair could use her best friend not being in the spotlight this summer. There was nothing more scary than being upstaged by Serena once again — especially not when this summer is supposed to belong to Blair. Especially when she needs her best friend unoccupied so she could take up all of her time. Blair’s eyebrow quirked up at the sound of petty. It might be true but it wasn’t a word she’d allow out of just anybody’s mouth. “Petty self help project?” Blair repeated, slowly, deliberately. Lips curling into a smile as she inched closer in towards Charlie. “I know you’re new around here, and you’re my best friends’ cousin.” Blair rolls her eyes, muttering, “Even if you were raised in a barn.” She gives Charlie a quick-once over again; crinkling her nose. “So, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. A one-time pass to let this slide.” She shrugged her shoulders, feeling awfully generous tonight. “But don’t make the same mistake of speaking to me like that again.”

Blair paused. “And now that I think about it, you’d be more work. Not a quick, flawless transformation. I doubt I could have you presentable by the end of the summer, and I’m a very busy woman.” She flashed her a grin, already counting down the seconds until Serena and Eric shipped her back off to Miami or Cali or wherever it was the blonde had mysteriously appeared from. The van der Woodsen’s had all the family they needed in Blair.

“Maybe she was right.” Blair countered. But she let her face relax, smiling softly at Charlie. “Just kidding.” She replied, dryly. “But come on, you expect me to believe Carol was just some over-bearing, controlling freak?” Blair shook her head. “I wrote the book on controlling mothers, there’s always more lurking behind the surface. Either you know it and aren’t telling me, or you don’t know and we’re going to find out.” Blair’s eyes gleamed with excitement—makeovers were for high school girls who had nothing better to do with their time; her true passion lied with scheming, uncovering the truth. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a proposal, it was a demand. Blair wanted to know all the secrets she could get her hands on this summer and starting with the whacked out Carol Rhodes was the perfect place to start.

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

Blair has only made half — if that — of her rounds. It had been a full time job being society’s darling before she’d gone and become engaged to a prince and now it was only so much harder. Except now, all they ask about is Louis. Most of the people in the room have never even met him. Is it so bad for Blair to want the attention to solely be on her? Hasn’t she lived in the shadow of everyone else her whole life? At least before Blair had enjoyed parties like this, she had loved schmoozing and pretentious small talk that led no where and the bitchy groups of girls that would form into a huddled circle to gossip. Blair used to relish in it - in all of it. 

And now? She can’t wait to leave.

A drag. Blair overheard a young woman she didn’t recognise speaking. Odd — sure, there were faces in the crowd who’s names she couldn’t remember, but Blair made it her mission to know everyone - even those that weren’t worth knowing. Blair never knew when she would need the leverage against somebody. Inside, Blair agreed with the woman — it was becoming a drag. It felt like the night ( which had barely started ) had been on forever. Blair couldn’t say that out loud, though, much less to someone she wasn’t familiar with.

“You must be new.” Blair smiled, wickedly; she loved new people, new victims, new gossip, a new game. Seeing this as an opportunity, Blair relinquished her nightly duties of greeting everybody for the moment and slid into the seat opposite the woman in the booth. “Everybody knows that summer doesn’t officially start until this party ends.” 

Time for laughter and fun? As if, Blair thought. Summer was for regrouping, relaxation and all sorts of trouble that hopefully wouldn’t follow them back into the city. 

Blair balanced her head in her hands, curious as to what has made this evening obviously unpleasant for the woman in front of her. “So, do tell, why aren’t you having the time of your life? Everyone else is.”

After what seems like a lifetime of meandering around the party, Rosalie finally decides to take a seat in one of the booths with not a glass of red, but a bottle. There’s still plenty of time left of the night and she did not feel like making extra trips to the bar, it was time for her to relax a little and so she reclined back against the booth after pouring herself a glass.

Scanning the room with her eyes, making sure she had not missed an important face - her work is never done, after all - Rosalie makes a small sigh, both delighted at finally allowing herself to relax and disappointed at how slow and uneventful the night has actually been so far. One would think that at least someone was drunk enough here already to make some kind of scene. I’m sure Gossip Girl is dying to get there hands on some juicy tales here tonight. She‘s aware that these sort of functions are a bit of a formality for most who have been attending for so long, but Rosalie cannot help but be slightly bored at this moment in time. She considers for a minute what she could bring to this party to liven it up a little, the thought however, is squashed quickly as her mind battles with making a statement and ultimately, a fool of herself. She’s been working so hard to maintain a good status among these people since moving to New York and lets face it, she’s already had enough glasses of wine that are most certainly clouding parts of her judgement. Only make decisions with a clear head, Rose. It’s the only way to ensure you do not mess up - too much.

With another sip of her glass and a sigh, this time definitely dripping of boredom. Rosalie speaks, mainly to herself - but loud enough for others to hear. “Well, isn’t this becoming a drag? Here I thought summer was the time for laughter and fun.”

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

ivydckins:

Oh the sarcastic comment Ivy wanted to give back to Blair was itching at her, but she was near one of Serena’s nearest and dearest friends so she had chosen to show some sort of restraint. This was her first big Event; she was mostly used to shopping trips with Serena which usually was followed by brunches where she would have to make up her life’s story. She had raised her glass back up to her lips as she had let a slow dramatic nod. “Oh, of course, i’m well aware of the fact i’ve got lots to learn,” Ivy spoke in a light tone, light but friendly tone. She saw Blair as this person that she properly should attempt to win over and stay on Blair’s good side; the safe side. 

Yet, Ivy found herself holding back another sarcastic comment to the brunette’s critics and patronizing manner. However, Ivy knew she couldn’t let this get to her. “Serena’s been very good.” Ivy replied, keeping her friendly manner front and ready. “I highly doubt i’d be It girl material as well.” She replied sheepishly. Of course, Ivy would adore the chance to the big It Girl of the Upper East Side, it would be the attention and more she craved. “It’s something i’m not interested in.. Serena and yourself have those roles perfectly filled. I mean you’re both got extremely high reputations.” She followed her previous statement up with her same sheepish tone. 

“And this life is different but it’s nice to hang out with family, get to know my cousins..” Ivy listed off, nodding her head. 

Blair nodded her head along with what Charlie was saying. “Yes, it’s such a shame you came into this world so late.” She shook her head slightly, her tongue doing a quick and quiet tick in disapproval. “But stick with the right people and you’ll be fine.” Blair breathed easily, as if they were discussing where to get mimosas tomorrow morning. But there was an undercurrent of warning in Blair’s tone, a pointed arched eyebrow that was telling Charlie that if she hung out with the wrong people Blair would ruin her. They were simple enough rules to follow. Blair couldn’t allow some stranger to ruin the reputation of her oldest’s friends family.

She shrugged, giving Charlie a quick-once-over; she was pretty. Had the potential to be beautiful, stunning, glamorous — she had the same genes as Serena after all. But her breeding had left her without the right tools and information on how to take care of her hair properly, Blair noted. Or where to get the right manicure from. Blair started making a mental list in her head of what Serena would have to correct in the girl before she could start introducing her as her cousin. “Oh, don’t be silly. Everyone wants to be an It Girl. It would take time and work, but I’m sure we could transform you from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan.” Blair laughed. “But I’m not an It Girl.” Blair reprimanded. “I’m future royalty—which is much more important than some outdated title an anonymous blogger gives out.”

Blair was both embarrassed and impressed with how Charlie was trying to keep up, showering her and Serena both in compliments. Being nice only got you so far in this world. But Blair didn’t want to make a cut-throat queen ( it had never turned out well for her in the end ). She just want to be reassured that if she spent time with this girl for Serena’s sake it wouldn’t reflect poorly on her (or S.). “Mm, yes.” Blair’s ears perked up. Family. Right, the family that had just suddenly existed for Charlie. “It must have been hard having your mother basically forbid you from spending any time with your own family. Tell me, what was that all about?” Blair smiled serenely. There was nothing that she liked more than a good gossip—especially from the source itself.

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

"We are the entertainment," Blair responds, over-hearing Penelope. She smiles at her in greeting, raking her eyes over her and nodding her head in respect. Penelope has truly dressed to impress, not that Blair would ever tell her that. That’s what happens when you disappear from Blair’s life — Penelope seems like a ghost to her now, an ex-minion that has been terribly hard to get ahold of, which is a shame, because Blair had always thought of Penelope fondly. There was something about her that other minions always seemed to lack.

In saying that they were the entertainment, Blair did have to agree with Penelope. The Summer Nights party had proven to be a lacklustre affair. But then again, these events were more of a formality than anything else - the first night to make a true entrance, to see who else would be joining you for the summer, to catch up with old friends and foes.

“How are you, Penelope?” Blair asks, pointedly, as she arches an eyebrow at her. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you around.” Code for: why have you been avoiding me, where have you been, don’t do it this summer, let’s make plans — all in one, tied together with a neat, polite smile and a kiss to her cheek.

Ah, Summer Nights. 

The traditional first party of the summering season. A party Penelope Shafai had grown so accustomed to that it felt almost like déjà vu every time she walked through the heavy glass framed doors of SL East. It was the one of the most important parties Penelope knew she would attend this summer, one so significant that it had the power to break one’s social life simply for not attending since it often led to it’s patrons creating their own suspicions of your whereabouts. This party was vital. And by the looks of the familiar faces around her, everyone else knew it too. It was precisely the reason why she always found herself here year after year. The thought of missing it was unshakable, a scary shame that Penelope knew would cast itself onto her like a black cloud for the remaining weeks ahead, and there was no room for her to allow any of that in a world that already left people so vulnerable.

Like most parties, such as this one, there always seemed to be a lack of interest among its guest. Everyone always looked so dull with their half-empty crystal champagne flutes and pricey designer dresses that dragged along wooden floors under fluorescent lights. Quiet conversations bore out after a few minutes with longing discussions of the same ole’ topics of New York politics and mediocre gossip. It seemed like everyone around her was growing old this aging tradition, but that was the point, wasn’t it? Traditions needed to stay the same in order for them to be traditions, right? Something for people to hang on to in a world that was always changing. She liked the ponder the thought at times like this. 

“You would think with all the money they put into this party year after year that the board who runs these things would at least input better entertainment,” Penelope found herself murmuring out loud to no one in particular, smoothing a hand over delicate fabric, fingertips touching imported beads as if she were trace them all throughout their design. “or at least bring in better champagne than Moët to stock the bar.”  

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

ivydckins:

Ivy couldn’t help but let her eyebrows shot up in surprise at the voice that had changed her drink order it wasn’t until she actually looked at the female that she had realised that voice belonged to the great Blair Waldorf. The blonde had nodded her thanks towards the bartender as she had wrapped her fingers around the glass of alcohol, not really wanting to be drinking some formal over priced bubbly water but then, Charlie Rhodes properly wouldn’t have a say in this whole thing.

She couldn’t quiet put her finger on Blair’s intentions because she hardly knew the great name but she had heard Serena talk about Blair. Raising the glass to her red painted lips, nodding her head slowly as she sallowed the liquid in her mouth. “Okay i’ll remain from being tacky.” Ivy replied to the brunette. “And suppose tacky is my style but that doesn’t have anything to do with my cousins. They are their own indiviuals.” She said.

Blair let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You have a lot to learn, Charlie.” She replied. Of course when you’re a nobody trying to infiltrate the most elite with your only connection to this world being the van der Woodsen’s everything you did was a reflection of them and had everything to do with them. But Blair kept her mouth shut...for the moment. There was a certain innocence and naivety to Charlie that Blair found charming, refreshing. Something told her that in the long run it would pay off to be nice to the newcomer.

“But I bet Serena’s already taken you under her wing.” Blair smiled, almost patronisingly. Girls like Charlie were so easy to walk all over. “Preparing you to become the next It Girl.” She swept her eyes over the blonde, “She has her work cut out for her, I see.”

“So, how are you enjoying your new life? It must be such a shock from what you’re used to.” Blair smiled, charmingly, insincerely.

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

"Then don’t drink.” Blair retorted in response. It was easy enough not to make a fool of yourself — something a few of the girls here ought to learn. In a quick motion she twisted her body to greet Theo. He wasn’t particularly interesting, wasn’t particularly boring. Blair had barely kept up with him in high school, much less out of high school but he was a familiar face and had ran in the same circles that she had.

“Theodore Collins.” Blair greeted him. To Blair he had always been just like every other boy that had attended St. Judes: charming, wealthy, good-looking, from a good family but ultimately...boring. The only thing that separated Theo and every other boy in their class was that there was always the whispers of talent surrounding him - mostly from parents and teachers, of course, but Blair always paid attention to what they were saying. Always. She paused, trying to conjure up the information of what exactly it was that he did. “I thought journalism was a dead art-form but I hear you’ve made the big leagues. Did I hear you worked for The New Yorker?” Blair asked smoothly, hoping she had chosen the right profession and hadn’t confused him for someone else. St Judes boys were so easy to mix up.

Blair arched an eyebrow at his compliments. Impressed with his confidence. “I’m engaged, Theo.” She said gently, dismissing him in an instant. Even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t have glanced twice at him. “Be careful with your words.” She smiled, happy to entertain his company for a brief moment. 

“Hmm,” Blair mumbled, half paying attention to his words. “Oh, yes. I’m staying for the summer.” And then, after a long pause, “How about you?” It was only polite to ask, of course.

Theo’s ears prickled when the whispering around the club reached a fever pitch, turning in the direction of the parting crowds. There were few people who could cause such a stir amongst New York’s finest… and the glimpses of a perfected coiffed brunette head let him know exactly who had walked in. Of course you were talked about when society royalty was on track to become actual royalty. Making his way over was easy, a smile here and a promise there –most he even intended to keep– and then he was behind the girl of the hour. Girl of the decade? Generation? Thoughts for another time. 

“What do you expect? Girls who can’t hold their liquor can’t be expected to hold their dignity,” Theo remarked, following Blair’s sight line to the girls flailing and stumbling about. He might be one to party, but you had to maintain some decorum. People had eyes and people gossiped and that was the fastest way to become no one around here. Or someone, but the UES wasn’t kind to dramatic, flash in the pan types.

“Blair,” he said lightly in greeting, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. She was terrifying and interesting and he knew he’d find his muse in seconds if she’d let him write about her, the true memoirs of one and only Blair Waldorf. Bitch, beauty, bleeding heart. It’d be the finest piece of work he ever wrote… and she’d never let him get close enough. And that was perfectly fine.

“I’d say you look stunning but it doesn’t seem to do you justice. Enchanting, maybe? For once, I don’t have words.” Irony at its finest, there. He’d been running out of words for longer than he really wanted to consider. Taking a sip of his whiskey, Theo tilted his head, considering the woman in front of him. “Are you staying for the summer or is this just a short stop on the way to bigger and better things?”

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

carterbaixen:

Carter wasn’t surprised that heads turned when they walked in the door. The prodigal – well, “child” would be more accurate instead of the usual term – the prodigal child returned, after years of being away. They walked as they usually walked, with their head up, smiling slightly as they took in everyone watching them. Gliding into the room like royalty, Carter saw several girls swoon and giggle together in excitement – and more than a few boys, too. 

It had been so long that they’d been in New York that it should have felt like shrugging into last winter’s coat: familiar, but slightly too small. And yet it felt completely familiar, which they supposed shouldn’t be that surprising. New York was their home, after all, no matter what had happened. For a moment, they wondered if their parents would be here, but a quick scan of the room – apart from the fact that there was no smell of sulfur, which already tipped them off – assured them that their parents were not there.

But Blair Waldorf was. They cruised up to the familiar face, their lips twitching as Blair spoke. “Leave it to you to go right for the jugular,” they said. “They’re kids. Cut them some slack. Not everyone can have the elegance oozing from their pores like Chanel No. 5.”

Blair rolled her eyes as Carter approached her. “Please,” She scoffed, “I wouldn’t be caught dead in Chanel No. 5.” She turned her body slightly to face them, mildly surprised by seeing them after they had fled from New York in disgrace. But they had a habit of popping up unexpected, a sort of trademark in Blair’s opinion. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be surprised to see Carter anywhere, just highly annoyed. They were the sort of bad news that was best avoided.

“Of course you would come to their defence.” Blair bit out. “Haven’t you spent the past few years disgracing your family?” She arched an eyebrow at them, a question mark lingering on the end of her sentence even though it wasn’t a question. 

She turned back to the scene in front of her: it was reminiscent of a more childish time. Blair had always watched those events unfold from the outside but Carter had always been in the thick of the action. “Why don’t you go join them? I can guarantee that’s more your social scene.” Blair replied haughtily.

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

The attention she held for this party was dwindling and they weren’t even an hour in. Blair didn’t know what she wanted to happen tonight but she had been expecting something to ignite a fire within her bones when she stepped inside the club to make it feel as if she was home. But all she felt for the evening was mild annoyance. 

Blair’s attention was captured by Alessia Buckley’s words and then to the scene she was referring to. “Gossip Girl needs something to kick the night off with.” Blair mused, before moving in closer to greet the girl. Blair had known of Alessia through the same social circles and once upon a time, through Nate, and while never been particularly close to the girl next to her she had always respected the grace in which she carried herself with.

“Enjoying yourself?” Blair asked, smiling fondly. 

Her cheeks were glowing, the warmth of room settling in the rosy hues of her face. It barely brought any excitement, the arrival of summer. She’d spent the remaining months of spring pondering over her life, her purpose and she was no further forward in her discovery. It made her feel lack lustre, to be so out of touch with the world. Despite the glimmering chandeliers above, which her mother would have critiqued for dust, a dullness settled inside of her. She’d considered having a few more beverages, in hopes of livening the mood - but she didn’t want to make a complete fool of herself. Perhaps if Georgina were around, Alessia might have been urged on more, but instead she felt a false smile pressing into her features. 

Wanting to shake herself from the figurative slump that she found herself in, Alessia walked forward into the throng of people in hopes of finding recognisable bodies. She heard harsh whispers, a couple on the rocks. It was what she was good at, listening to the problems of others ( and avoiding her own ). 

Curling her mouth up, she smirked slightly. “Seems like there are already fall-outs and the party has just begun.” It was spoken to no one in particular, Alessia expecting her words to fall into the buzz of others talking and be unheard, but then she did not notice the other person nearby. 

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

"Eric,” Blair smiled — genuinely — as she spotted him at the bar. For a split second worry had creeped up onto her as she saw his location before she had waved it off - he had always been the caregiver of any scenario. Blair believed he would only put himself into situations he would be able to handle. (And how many times had she done the same for herself?) “It’s so good to see you,” She gushed as she picked up the discarded drink at the bar. Three weeks living her dream role had felt like a lifetime.

Blair looked distastefully down at the drink in her hands before handing it back over to the bartender. “Good call with rejecting a girl who thinks that is an acceptable conversation starter.” Blair gave him a quick once-over — she’d heard about his breakup through the grapevine and sent her half-hearted condolences via text ( she knew heartbreak was hard but she couldn’t exactly say the girl herself was worth mourning - but the van der Woodsen siblings had always had strange taste in companions ) but she hadn’t seen him since to inspect for herself that he was doing okay. 

“Well,” Blair started, signalling the bartender back over. “I was expecting you to look a lot worse for wear after hearing the news about you and what’s-her-name.” Blair pursed her lips, pausing to quickly order a glass of white wine. “But you look fine. In fact, you look ready to get back out there. What do you say about being my project for the summer? I’ll find you true love in no time.” She teased, half-joking with him and half-serious. She did need something to occupy her time and what better than to play matchmaker?

Even though he could technically drink without breaking his sobriety, Eric was fully aware that it was frowned upon by nearly all medical professionals. Still, rum & coke without the rum was significantly less interesting than the real deal. He took another sip but then set the glass down on the bar with an annoyed sigh, the fact that he was ‘encouraged to stay sober’ just another constant reminder of his past. Especially these days, staying away from alcohol (and other temptations) had proven difficult.

It was still fairly early, but slowly the club started filling, and as the minutes passed it started to feel more like he was back in New York with familiar faces appearing around him, dressed to the nines and surrounded by that particular party vibe that almost felt like second nature. Eric knew he looked pathetic, standing alone at the bar with nothing but a non-alcoholic drink to occupy his time, but the only reason he was even here was out of sheer tradition: ever since he was sixteen he’d spent his first night at the Hamptons to celebrate. 

He kept his gaze on his glass until the barman put down another glass on the counter, pointing to a girl at the end of the bar, giggling with some friends while Eric looked at her. Yeah, not tonight, he thought as he scratched his temple and shook his head. “Oh, no thanks.” he said to the barman, speaking just loud enough to overpower the music blasting throughout the club, “I’m still good, thanks. You can pass it along,” he continued as he carelessly swatted his hand sideways to signal that whoever was next to him should get the drink. It was true, the Summer Nights party was a tradition he’d never miss, but this year he felt more like powering through it than celebrating the end of another school year. 

[blairwaldxrfs-blog]

Blair pursed her lips, glancing over in the direction of Charlie — Serena’s newest toy at the moment, or cousin, or whatever. 

“No, she’ll have a Moët Rosé Imperial.” Blair interrupted, sliding closer over to Charlie and flashing her a warm smile. Blair can’t understand the outsider feeling that Charlie must be feeling — she’d grown up in this world after all; it was second-nature to her. But there was a part of her that could relate to the newcomer feeling. Blair never thought it could be possible to feel nervous surrounded by indulgence and wealth, to feel..not good enough..even if she had spent her whole life feeling second-best. It was different in Monaco, when they looked at her as if she was just another commoner, a lesser being, they didn’t hold the name Waldorf in high-esteem like the city did. And Charlie probably felt that way, a fish out of water — she may be a Rhodes by blood but everyone will just be seeing her as the interloper - she didn’t grow up with money, after all.

“Trust me.” Blair smiled, “You don’t want to be drinking hard liquor at events like this. It’s tacky.” It was out of loyalty to Eric and Serena that she would rescue their cousin — just this once. It would prepare her for her new role of princess to the people but she didn’t want to make it a habit of lending a hand to the less fortunate. “But you are Serena’s cousin, so maybe tacky’s your style?”

Ivy somehow, from being a simple waitress in Miami had now been given this new life as the unstoppable Charlie Rhodes. However, landing in The Hamptons for the summer was something she actually thought never would happen to her - something she must credit Charlie’s life for. With her lips painted a deep red color, she had walked into the club as she clung onto the clutch in her hands with a tight grip. She had been doing okay; this was all practice to her for the perfect actress role. 

She had sucked in a deep breathe to try and calm the nerves in her stomach. The blonde had strolled across the club floor as she landed at the bar; it was a safe generic place. Maybe have a couple of drinks and try talk to some loose lipped people, gather some information on the life she was still trying to get used to. “Can I have something, strong to calm the nerves? Whiskey, single shot?” Ivy quipped to the bartender. “And possibly whatever this person is having? I’m feeling slightly generous tonight.” Ivy said, motioning to the figure beside her.