Chapter Text
Chapter 29
Pony’s POV
Christmas lights flickered warm and soft through the Humphrey loft windows, catching in the tinsel and bouncing off a half-decorated tree that leaned a little to the left. It smelled like pine and cinnamon, like home, but there was tension in the air that made the sparkle feel sharp instead of cozy.
Rufus was untangling a string of lights while Alison and Jenny hung ornaments, and Dan was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sorting through a stack of envelopes. The Tulsa gang had been invited over to “help” decorate, though most of us just ended up watching the family dynamic unfold like a holiday play we weren’t supposed to interrupt.
Soda and I were on the couch, sipping cocoa that Jenny had made, while Two-Bit tried to balance a Santa hat on Johnny’s head. Dally leaned near the window, one hand in his jacket pocket, watching the snow outside like he didn’t quite believe in it. Darry was stringing popcorn garland with the same patience he used to have fixing our Christmas lights back home.
Dan tore open an envelope.
“Huh,” Dan said. “Who’s Alex?”
Alison froze mid-reach for a box of hooks.
“Oh, um…” Alison said.
Rufus looked up from the lights.
“Alex?” Rufus asked.
“Yeah,” Dan said. “Card says, ‘Happy holidays from Alex.’ Must be one of Mom’s new art friends.”
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut through the holiday music playing low in the background. Alison’s cheeks colored, and she busied herself with hanging an ornament.
Rufus cleared his throat, voice calm but tight.
“Right,” Rufus said. “Art friends.”
“Well, ain’t that awkward?” Two-Bit muttered under his breath.
Dally elbowed him lightly, but even he looked curious, a rare smirk tugging at his mouth.
“Guess mistletoe season’s got its thorns,” Dally muttered.
I shot him a look, not now, Dal.
Rufus stepped closer to Alison, speaking low enough that only those of us near the tree could hear.
“You didn’t think to mention your neighbor might send Christmas greetings?” Rufus asked.
“It’s just a card, Rufus,” Alison whispered. “You’re making it something it’s not.”
“It’s something, all right,” Rufus said, eyes dark. “But fine. Let’s do what we do best. Rewind. Pretend it never happened.”
The tension wrapped around the room tighter than the garland around the tree. Jenny kept her eyes on a silver ornament like she could disappear into it.
Soda leaned toward me, voice quiet.
“Man, families fight differently up here,” Soda said. “No yellin’, just frostbite.”
I gave a faint smile but didn’t answer. Watching them reminded me of our Christmases back in Tulsa, loud, messy, full of laughter, even when we didn’t have gifts to give. Here, everything sparkled and shimmered, but the cracks in the shine showed through like light bleeding out of glass.
Dan finally stood, breaking the silence.
“So… hot chocolate refill, anyone?” Dan asked.
Johnny raised his hand.
“Yeah, sure,” Johnny said. “Might thaw Dally out.”
Dally rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, which was a miracle in itself.
Before anyone could move, the faint buzz of phones cut through the air, all of ours at once. Gossip Girl’s latest blast flashed on Jenny’s screen, bright and merciless:
Gossip Girl Blast:
“’Tis the season for secrets, and this year’s presents come wrapped in tension. Word has it there’s trouble under the Humphrey tree, and our favorite Tulsa transplants were front row for the show. Deck the halls, Upper East Siders, family drama’s never been so festive.”
Two-Bit whistled low.
“Well, guess that’s one way to make the papers,” Two-Bit said.
Jenny groaned.
“She really doesn’t take holidays off, does she?” Jenny said.
“Nope,” Soda said, grinning. “Guess even Santa’s got a gossip list.”
I looked toward Rufus and Alison, who had turned away from each other, both pretending to focus on the tree again. Maybe all families were the same in the end. We fought, we forgave, and somehow, we kept showing up for each other.
The lights on the tree blinked steadily and softly, like they were trying to hold the family together when words couldn’t.
By late afternoon, the city had turned into a postcard, sunlight fading behind skyscrapers, streaking the clouds gold and rose. The air had that crisp winter bite that made every breath feel cleaner somehow.
We’d all tagged along with Blair and her family to Central Park, though “invited” might be too strong a word. CeCe had insisted that the “Tulsa boys deserved a proper Manhattan Christmas experience,” and apparently, that meant skating at Wollman Rink with the Waldorfs.
Eleanor Waldorf looked immaculate in her fur-trimmed coat and matching gloves, every step precise, while Blair walked beside her in an elegant dark red pea coat, her hair shining under the winter light. Darry, Soda, Two-Bit, Steve, Dally, Johnny, and I trailed a few paces behind, trying to blend in with the crowd, though judging by how many heads turned at the sight of our leather jackets and greaser boots on the polished white snow, that wasn’t working out too well.
Blair’s voice carried back to us as she spoke sharply to her mother.
“I still can’t believe you’re okay with this,” Blair said.
Eleanor sighed, adjusting her scarf.
“I’m not, Blair,” Eleanor said. “But I can’t make a scene, especially not in front of Roman.”
Blair scowled.
“Oh, yes, heaven forbid your ex-husband’s boyfriend feel uncomfortable while destroying our family Christmas,” Blair said.
“She’s fiery, huh?” Soda whispered to me as he leaned over.
“Yeah,” I said, watching Blair stalk ahead. “Reminds me of a few girls back home who didn’t take being told what to do real well.”
Two-Bit grinned.
“She’d eat us alive in Tulsa,” Two-Bit said.
Eleanor stopped at the edge of the rink, her heels sinking slightly into the snow.
“Roman and Harold are taking us skating, darling,” Eleanor said. “Try to enjoy it, please. And no pouting, you’ll get lines before you’re thirty.”
Blair crossed her arms but said nothing as Harold and Roman approached, lacing up their skates. Harold’s face lit up the moment he saw his daughter, his joy so open and warm it almost made me forget how complicated everything around them seemed. Roman, in his designer coat and accent thick as syrup, clapped his hands together.
“Eleanor, ma chérie, tell me again, what was this wonderful news about Victoria’s Secret?” Roman said.
“Oh!” Eleanor’s expression brightened, her earlier tension melting into a proud smile. “I have a meeting next week with the CEO. They’re interested in my designs, a new sleepwear line.”
Roman gasped and pressed a gloved hand to his heart.
“Mon Dieu !” Roman said. “Sleepwear! That is so chic. So French!”
Dally leaned close to Johnny.
“Sleepwear?” Dally whispered. “That means what I think it does?”
Johnny shrugged, his breath puffing white in the air.
“Guess fancy pajamas pay the bills,” Johnny said.
Roman took Eleanor’s arm, leading her toward the rink, still babbling excitedly about fabrics and lace, while Harold and Blair hung back, tying their skates together.
Darry watched them with quiet understanding.
“Guy looks happy to see her,” Darry murmured.
“Yeah,” I said. “Guess even when people drift apart, that kind of love doesn’t just vanish.”
Blair sat down beside her dad, lacing up her skates.
“You really think this is normal?” Blair said. “All of us… together?”
Harold smiled softly.
“Normal?” Harold said. “Maybe not. But it’s still family. And I’m glad you came, Bee.”
She looked up at him then, the ice around her tone softening for the first time that day.
“I’m glad you’re here, too, Daddy,” Blair said.
They took to the ice together, Blair wobbling at first, clutching his arm. Harold laughed, steadying her. Roman waved from across the rink, and Eleanor joined him, her laughter light and unexpected.
Steve nudged me as we leaned against the rail, watching.
“Y’know, Pony, for rich folks, they ain’t that different,” Steve said. “Still fight, still make up, still try to keep it together.”
I smiled faintly.
“Guess families are families no matter where you are,” I said.
The city lights began to glow against the snow, turning the rink into a dream. Blair spun once, almost gracefully, and when she looked up, she caught sight of us watching. For a second, she smiled, a real one, before rolling her eyes and skating back to her dad.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Gossip Girl’s blast flashed across the screen, quick and merciless:
Gossip Girl Blast:
“Spotted: Blair Waldorf skating through family drama smoother than the ice under her Prada boots. Looks like the Waldorfs have gone from catwalk to catfight, and our favorite Tulsa boys? Right there at the rink. Hope they brought popcorn.”
Two-Bit snorted, reading over my shoulder.
“Man, that chick doesn’t sleep, huh?” Two-Bit said.
“Nope,” Dally said, flicking ash from his cigarette into the snow. “But she sure knows how to stir the pot.”
The six of us stood there under the falling snow, watching the Upper East Side’s version of peace play out, perfect on the surface, fragile underneath, and I couldn’t help thinking that maybe, for all our differences, we all wanted the same thing.
A family that stayed, no matter how messy things got.
The smell of espresso and cinnamon filled the air, cutting through the winter chill that followed us into the café. The place was packed, every table taken by students, couples, and city folk in designer coats sipping their cappuccinos like it was an art form.
Dally hated it already.
“Smells like burnt water,” Dally muttered, wrinkling his nose as we filed in behind Dan Humphrey.
Vanessa was behind the counter, hair pulled back, her usual calm smile hiding just how sharp her eyes were. She’d been teasing Dan since the moment he walked in.
“Still can’t believe it, huh?” Vanessa said, leaning across the counter with a grin.
Dan looked dazed, turning the New Yorker over in his hands like it might disappear if he blinked too hard.
“It’s surreal,” Dan said. “One week, I’m just writing in my room, and now I’m published in The New Yorker. Thanks to you.”
Vanessa smirked.
“You’re welcome,” Vanessa said. “Maybe now you’ll finally admit I have good taste.”
Soda whistled low.
“Man, that’s somethin’,” Soda said, slapping Dan on the back. “Ain’t every day one of us ends up in a magazine next to folks with names we can’t even pronounce.”
Two-Bit grabbed the New Yorker from Dan’s hands and flipped through it.
“Do they have comics in here or what?” Two-Bit asked.
Vanessa laughed.
“Not that kind of magazine, Two-Bit,” Vanessa teased.
Steve elbowed him.
“Yeah, maybe if it had a crossword and a pull-out poster,” Steve said.
Before anyone could say more, the door chimed open and a gust of cold air swept through. Serena Van der Woodsen stepped inside like she owned the whole block, hair shining, cheeks pink from the cold, scarf draped just right. She caught sight of Dan and smiled that effortless, city-girl smile that always made Soda straighten up like he forgot how to breathe.
“Hey,” Serena said softly, walking over. “Sorr,y I’m late.”
Dan stood up from his chair, tucking the magazine under his arm.
“Hey, it’s fine,” Dan said. “I was just…”
“Reading about himself,” Vanessa cut in with a grin.
Serena smiled at that, then turned to the rest of us.
“Hey, you guys,” Serena said.
“Hey,” I said. “We’re just here for moral support. And coffee.”
“Well, this might make it sweeter,” Serena said, pulling a small, wrapped box from her bag. It was tied with a silver ribbon that matched her scarf.
Dan blinked.
“You didn’t have to…” Dan said.
Serena handed it to him before he could finish.
“Merry Christmas, Dan,” Serena said.
Dan hesitated, then unwrapped it. Inside was a sleek, silver watch. You could tell it wasn’t just expensive, it was thoughtful.
Dally leaned toward Johnny.
“That thing’s worth more than our car back home,” Dally said.
Johnny nodded.
“And it actually tells time,” Johnny said.
Dan stared at the gift like it was made of gold.
“Serena, I… I can’t accept this,” Dan said.
Serena frowned.
“Why not?” Serena asked.
“Because the most elaborate thing I ever got someone was a book,” Dan said. “It’s not that I don’t like it, you just overdid it.”
Serena laughed softly, the sound brittle at the edges.
“Dan, it’s just a watch,” Serena said. “It’s not like I bought you an island.”
Vanessa raised an eyebrow, arms crossed.
“Yeah, but it’s still kind of an island-level move, Serena,” Vanessa said.
Soda smirked.
“Girl’s just tryna show she cares,” Soda said. “That’s what people do when they’re in love.”
Darry shot him a look.
“That’s what people do when they have more money than sense,” Darry said.
Steve chuckled.
“You sound like Dad number two, man,” Steve said.
The tension thickened between Serena and Dan, the kind that made everyone else start pretending to check their phones. Serena stepped back, clutching her coat tighter.
“I just wanted you to know I’m proud of you,” Serena said. “That’s all.”
Dan softened then, guilt flickering in his eyes.
“I know,” Dan said. “I just… I don’t want things to change between us because of money, you know?”
Serena nodded, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Okay, Humphrey,” Serena said. “Point taken.”
As she turned to leave, Gossip Girl’s newest blast hit all our phones at once, lighting up the café like a Christmas tree.
Gossip Girl Blast:
“Looks like Lonely Boy got a little something shiny from his golden girl, but can Dan Humphrey handle a gift that ticks louder than his conscience? Meanwhile, Tulsa’s favorite outsiders are learning that not even coffee is safe from Upper East Side drama.”
Two-Bit groaned.
“Man, she even knows about the coffee?” Two-Bit said.
“She knows everything,” Vanessa said, shaking her head.
Dally kicked at the floor.
“We gotta find out who this Gossip Girl chick is,” Dally muttered. “She’s worse than the cops back home.”
Serena paused at the door, glancing back once, her expression softer now, her eyes lingering on Dan. Then she smiled faintly and slipped out into the snow.
Dan exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Guess I messed that one up,” Dan said.
Soda grinned.
“You didn’t mess it up, man,” Soda said. “You just made it real.”
Darry nodded.
“She’ll come around,” Darry said. “People like her, they ain’t used to being told no. It’ll mean something.”
Dan looked at the watch again, the silver face gleaming under the café lights.
“Yeah,” Dan murmured. “I hope so.”
And as the bell chimed again, letting in another burst of cold, I couldn’t help thinking how strange it felt, watching love, money, and pride all twist together like threads of the same story.
Back home, we fought for things we needed.
Here, they fought for the things they couldn’t understand.