Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Pony’s POV

I was halfway through rereading “Great Expectations” when the phone rang, that sharp jangle cutting through the Curtis house like it always did. Soda was sprawled on the couch next to me, flipping through some car magazine, and Darry was in the kitchen clattering pans around.

“Pony, get that, will ya?” Darry hollered.

I sighed, put the book down, and picked up the phone.

“Curtis residence,” I said, annoyed.

There was a crisp voice on the other end, clipped and formal, like the kind of people you hear on the news.

“Is this Ponyboy Curtis?” The voice asked.

“Yeah,” I said, wary.

“This is Mr. Allen from St. Jude’s School for Boys in New York City,” The man said. “I’m calling to inform you that you’ve been awarded a full academic scholarship. Tuition, housing, and expenses fully covered.”

My grip on the receiver tightened. New York. St. Jude’s. I’d read about places like that, schools for the sons of senators and bankers, kids who wore ties like they were born in ‘em.
I swallowed.

“That’s really generous, sir, but…I can’t accept it,” I deadpanned.

There was a pause on the other end.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Allen asked, confused.

“I said I can’t go unless…” I glanced around the room, at Soda looking up now, Steve leaning against the doorway, and Dally flicking his lighter by the armchair. Johnny sat quietly beside him, listening. Two-Bit was stretched across the rug, grinning like he knew I was about to cause trouble. “... unless all my friends get in too. Full rides, housing, everything. And Darry gets a job there.”

“Mr. Curtis…” Mr. Allen protested.

“I ain’t going without them,” I said firmly. “That’s my deal.”

Soda’s eyes went wide.

“Pony…” Soda said, aghast.

I waved him quiet, heart pounding.

The man on the other end cleared his throat.

“St. Jude’s is a highly selective institution,” Mr. Allen said. “Bringing in six additional boys…”

“Seven,” I corrected. “Me, Soda, Steve, Johnny, Dally, and Two-Bit. And Darry.”

I could hear his disapproval through the line, but I pressed on.

“You said I earned this,” I said. “Well, I didn’t get here alone. If I’m gonna be some charity case up there, then we all go. Or none.”

There was a long silence. I thought he’d hang up.

But finally: “We will…review your request,” Mr. Allen said. And then the line clicked dead.

“Ponyboy Curtis,” Dally said, smirking, “you got guts, I’ll give ya that.”

Steve shook his head.

“You just told off some high-class stiff from New York,” Steve said in awe.

Soda ruffled my hair.

“Guess you learned stubborn from Darry,” Soda teased.

I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but my stomach twisted. What if I’d just thrown away my one shot at something better?

Two weeks later, a thick envelope arrived. Darry slit it open at the table. He read it once, then again, eyebrows climbing higher.

“They’re giving us all in,” Darry said slowly. “Scholarships for Pony, Soda, Steve, Dallas, Johnny, and Keith. Housing covered. And they’re offering me a job in maintenance at the school.”

The room exploded.

“No way!” Steve grabbed the letter.

“New York City, baby!” Two-Bit whooped, spinning Johnny around until Johnny laughed, embarrassed.

Soda’s grin was brighter than the morning sun.

“We’re goin’ to the Big Apple, little buddy!” Soda crowed.

Dally leaned back in his chair, lighting a smoke with a sly grin.

“Upper East Side ain’t ready for us,” Dally said.

It didn’t feel real until the day we packed the truck.

We piled into an old, beat-up van Darry had managed to wrangle from a buddy at work. Half the back was loaded with whatever we owned, clothes stuffed into duffel bags, Soda’s magazines, Steve’s tool kit, Two-Bit’s comic stash, Johnny’s dog-eared books, Dally’s leather jacket collection, and my stack of paperbacks that Darry grumbled about carrying up front.

It wasn’t hard to convince their parents to let them go.

“Whole van’s full of junk,” Darry muttered, wiping sweat off his forehead as he shoved another box inside. “Don’t know how we’re all gonna fit.”

“Junk?” Two-Bit gasped. “That’s not junk, that’s priceless art. You ever try to track down Mickey Mouse comics from ’55?”

“Yeah,” Steve said dryly. “At the dump.”

We hit the road just as the sun was rising, the Oklahoma sky still that pale pink. Soda cranked the radio up, belting along to every song, even if he didn’t know the words. Two-Bit leaned over the backseat to make faces at passing cars. Dally hogged the window with his feet kicked up, smirking at every girl we passed.

Johnny was quiet, staring out at the fields sliding past, but every now and then he’d smile when Soda cracked a joke. Steve dozed with his cap over his face until Darry barked at him to stay awake and help navigate.

I sat with my notebook in my lap, scribbling down everything, the way the road stretched out like a promise, the way the van rattled when Darry hit a pothole, the way Soda stuck his head out the window like a dog just to feel the wind.

By the time we hit Missouri, we were cramped and sweaty, but alive in a way I hadn’t felt before. The air smelled different at every gas station, with fried food, truck exhaust, and someone’s perfume drifting by.

In Kentucky, we stopped at a roadside diner. We must’ve looked like a circus act walking in: six boys and Darry, all elbows and noise, clattering into a booth that wasn’t built for us. The waitress raised an eyebrow but poured coffee anyway.

“New York, huh?” she said when we told her where we were headed. “Big dreams.”

“More like big headaches,” Darry muttered.

But Johnny’s eyes shone, and even Dally cracked a grin around his cigarette.

Days blurred together after that, highways, motels with buzzing neon signs, greasy paper bags of burgers passed around the van. Two-Bit insisted on reading road signs out loud in dramatic voices. Steve nearly killed him when he snuck a hot dog wrapper under his pillow at one stop.

It was loud, messy, and exhausting. But it was ours.

By the time we rolled into Manhattan, we were dead on our feet. The city hit me like a punch, honking horns, skyscrapers slicing up the sky, people moving like they were late for everything.
The school had arranged housing, and when Darry got the keys, we all held our breath.

The apartment was up four flights of narrow stairs in a brick walk-up on the edge of the Upper East Side. When we stepped inside, it smelled faintly of paint and dust, like no one had lived there in a while.

It wasn’t fancy. Two bedrooms, a cramped kitchen, a bathroom that looked like it came outta the 1940s, and a living room with windows that actually faced the street.

“Small,” Darry said immediately, arms crossed.

“Cozy,” Soda corrected, flopping onto the sagging couch like it was a throne. “Check it out, we got a view of…somebody else’s laundry line.”

The floors creaked, and the radiator hissed like it was alive, but the walls were freshly painted a soft cream. The kitchen had a tiny stove, just big enough for Darry to complain about, and a fridge that rattled when you opened it.

Steve peeked out the window.

“You can see the corner bodega,” Steve said with a smirk. “We’re set.”

Johnny ran his hand along the windowsill, quiet but smiling.

“It feels…safe,” Johnny murmured.

Two-Bit immediately claimed the top bunk in one bedroom, leaving Johnny the bottom. Steve and Soda wrestled over who got stuck with Dally in the other, until Darry threatened to take the whole room for himself if they didn’t shut it.

I set my books on the windowsill in the living room, where the light came in just right.

For the first time, I could almost picture it, us in this city, building something new.

“Welcome home, boys,” Darry said finally, leaning against the doorframe.

And for once, nobody argued.

The apartment still smelled like paint, and the radiator clanked every few minutes like it was testing us. None of us could sit still for long.

“We ain’t just sittin’ here,” Two-Bit announced, hands on his hips. “We’re in New York City. The Big Apple. Land of hot dogs, Broadway, and crooks richer than Socs.”

“Thought crooks richer than Socs were just Socs,” Steve muttered.

But even Darry gave a half-smile.

“We should look around anyway,” Darry said. “Get a lay of the land.”

So we slid down four flights of stairs and onto the street. It was like stepping into another planet. Tulsa was wide skies and dusty roads; here, the sky was a strip of dark blue wedged between buildings so tall they made you crane your neck till it hurt. Cars honked like it was a competition, and neon signs blinked from every corner.

Soda stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, spinning in a circle.

“Man, look at this place!” Soda said. “Feels like we’re in a movie.”

“More like a zoo,” Dally said, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “Everybody walkin’ like they’re on fire.”

People brushed past us, sharp suits and heels clicking fast, barely glancing at seven boys gawking like tourists.

We ducked into a corner diner with a glowing red sign that said Lexington Grill. Inside was warm and loud, chrome counters shining, waitresses hustling between booths, the smell of bacon and coffee hitting me right away.

We slid into two booths pushed together. Soda ordered pancakes even though it was nearly ten at night. Two-Bit tried to talk the waitress into giving him pie “on the house, since we’re new in town.”
She just smirked. “Welcome to New York, sweetheart. Pie costs extra.”

Johnny’s eyes lit up at the menu.

“They got everything,” Johnny said in awe.

Steve leaned across him to point out the prices.

“They charge everything, too,” Steve grumbled.

Dally lit a cigarette, ignoring the “No Smoking” sign till Darry smacked his arm and made him put it out.

I couldn’t stop looking around. The crowd wasn’t like Tulsa diners. Half the people were our age, wearing blazers and skirts that looked like they cost more than Darry made in a month. Their voices carried across the room, talking about prep schools and weekends in the Hamptons like it was normal.

One boy with slick hair and a scarf looked over, eyebrows arched like we were an exhibit. His friends laughed softly when Steve accidentally spilled water across the table.

I ducked my head, cheeks burning. It was like the air was heavier here, like you had to earn your right to breathe it.

When the food came, burgers stacked high, fries spilling off the plate, pancakes drowned in syrup, we dug in like we hadn’t eaten in days. The waitress gave us an amused look when Soda licked his fork clean and ordered seconds.

After, we wandered into the corner store across the street. The place had aisles of stuff I’d never seen: imported candies, fancy bottled water, rows of magazines with glossy covers showing faces I only half-recognized from the newsstand back home.

Two-Bit picked up a gossip rag, holding it up to Dally.

“Look at this: ‘Manhattan’s Most Eligible Bachelor,’” Two-Bit teased. “You missed your shot, Dal.”

Dally smirked, tossing it back.

“Give me a week,” Dally said.

Johnny bought a pack of gum, staring wide-eyed at the clerk’s neon-pink nails. Steve stocked up on chips. Darry grabbed bread, eggs, and milk, muttering about the prices the whole time.

Walking back to the apartment, the city hummed around us. Taxi lights streaked yellow across the wet pavement. A saxophone played somewhere down the block. A couple laughed loudly as they stumbled out of a cab.

Soda draped an arm around my shoulders.

“Think we’ll get used to it?” Soda asked.

I stared up at the skyline, where the tops of buildings sparkled like stars.

“We’ll have to,” I said.

Johnny gave a small smile beside me.

“I kinda like it,” Johnny murmured. “Feels…alive.”

And it did. Loud, bright, overwhelming, but alive.

When we climbed back up those narrow stairs and into our apartment, I set my notebook on the windowsill again. Outside, the city never stopped moving. And I knew, this was just the beginning.

The radiator hissed all night like a snake that wouldn’t shut up, and the city never really went quiet: sirens, horns, footsteps overhead. By morning, my head felt heavy, but the sunlight streaming through our crooked blinds got me up anyway.

Darry was already awake, buttoning a clean shirt like it was some kind of armor. He had a paper folded on the table and a serious look on his face.

“Alright,” Darry said, voice firm like he’d been rehearsing. “We’ve got a big day. Everybody up, dressed, and ready in ten.”

Two-Bit groaned from the top bunk.

“Ten minutes?” Two-Bit whined. “Darry, even Superman can’t do that.”

“You got nine now,” Darry shot back.

Somehow, we managed. Soda pulled on jeans without bothering to find socks, Steve grumbled about needing coffee, Johnny brushed his hair nervously in the cracked bathroom mirror, Dally lit a cigarette before Darry yanked it out of his mouth, and I stuffed a notebook into my jacket pocket.

We took the subway uptown, packed into a car that smelled like too many people crammed together. Dally muttered about pickpockets; Soda laughed every time the train lurched; Johnny clung to the pole like it might be the only thing keeping him from flying away.

When we came up on Lexington Avenue, I blinked at the clean streets lined with boutiques and coffee shops, sunlight bouncing off glass storefronts. Kids in pressed uniforms hurried by, ties perfect, shoes shining like they’d never touched dirt.

“Here we go,” Darry said, steering us into a side entrance marked St. Jude’s Preparatory School – Administrative Offices.

Inside, everything smelled like polished wood and money.

A woman in pearls looked up from the front desk and smiled politely.

“You must be the Curtis party,” She said.

Darry nodded, handing over the stack of papers he’d been carrying like they were life or death.

“We’re here for their schedules and uniforms,” Darry said. “And I’m supposed to check in about the job.”

The woman’s eyes flicked over us, Johnny shifting on his feet, Steve slouched, Dally glaring like he was already bored, Two-Bit trying to spin a pen he’d swiped off her desk. Her smile tightened just a little.

“Of course,” She said. “Right this way.”

We got split into stations. A narrow room smelled of starch and fabric where they handed us our uniforms: navy blazers with the school crest, crisp white shirts, striped ties, and slacks.

Soda held his up, eyes wide.

“Dang, I’m gonna look like James Bond,” Soda joked.

“More like a waiter,” Steve said, tugging at his own collar.

Two-Bit draped the blazer over his shoulders like a cape.

“Gentlemen, the new kings of Manhattan,” Two-Bit teased.

“I don’t think I fit in this,” Johnny whispered as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

“You fit ‘cause you’re here,” I told him. “That’s enough.”

Dally rolled his eyes.

“We’re gonna stick out like sore thumbs no matter what,” Dally grumbled.

Still, he buttoned his blazer, and I couldn’t help thinking he looked sharp, like trouble dressed in silk.

Schedules came next: heavy cardstock papers with our names printed neatly at the top.

“Advanced Literature, Algebra II, U.S. History…” I read mine over and swallowed. These weren’t the kind of classes where you could hide in the back and coast.

Steve frowned at his.

“They got me in Latin,” Steve grumbled. “Latin! What the hell am I gonna do with Latin?”

“Talk to ghosts,” Two-Bit offered.

The woman at the desk cleared her throat.

“These placements are based on prior testing,” The woman said.

“Testing?” Steve said. “Lady, I barely passed English.”

Darry’s look warned us to shut it before we embarrassed ourselves further.

Finally, Darry had to check in for his job. They led him down a hall to a separate office, where a man in a gray suit handed him a ring of keys and a badge clipped to a lanyard.

“Curtis, you’ll be on maintenance,” The man said. “You’ll handle building repairs, groundskeeping, and assisting custodial staff. You’ll also have a uniform: dark green coveralls with the school insignia.”

Darry turned it over in his hands, his jaw set. He looked proud, but serious too, like the weight of it meant everything.

“You boys respect this place,” he told us once we were outside again. “I don’t want to hear about trouble before the first bell rings.”

Two-Bit saluted.

“Yes, sir, Boss Man, sir,” Two-Bit joked.

Darry sighed.

“It’s gonna be a long year,” Darry moaned.

When we left the school, blazers folded over our arms and schedules tucked away, the air felt different. Heavy, like the future had just been set down in front of us.

Soda nudged me, grinning.

“Guess we’re really doin’ this, huh?” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I said, staring at the school crest stitched into the pocket of my blazer. “We are.”

But in my gut, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the city was already watching.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Soda’s POV

Monday morning hit faster than I wanted. The radiator hissed like always, horns honked down on the street, and Darry’s voice barked through the apartment like a drill sergeant:

“Up!” Darry shouted. “Everybody up, uniforms on, ties straight, and let’s go!”

I groaned, pulling a pillow over my head.

“Since when’s my big brother in the army?” I groaned.

“Since forever,” Steve shot back, already yanking on his blazer.

Johnny shuffled out of the bathroom, hair damp, his tie crooked. Dally whistled low, smirking at him.

“Look at Johnnycake, dressed like he’s about to steal somebody’s trust fund,” Dally teased.

Two-Bit popped his head out of the kitchen, already munching on toast. He’d tied his tie around his forehead like a bandana.

“How do I look?” Two-Bit jokingly asked.

“Like an idiot,” Darry snapped, fixing it himself.

I pulled on the white shirt and blazer, checking myself in the cracked mirror above the sink.

“Dang, I look good,” I muttered, flashing a grin. Tulsa never had me looking this sharp.

“Pony, move it!” Darry barked again. My kid brother stumbled out of his room with his notebook still under his arm, hair sticking up, trying to knot his tie one-handed. I caught him before he strangled himself.

“Here, kid, let me.” I fixed it up quickly, smoothing his collar. He gave me that quiet look of his, the one that said thanks without words.

And that’s when the blast hit.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST — September 3, 7:15 a.m.]

Spotted: Serena van der Woodsen back on the Upper East Side. That’s right, our golden girl was seen stepping off the train at Grand Central last night, luggage in tow and secrets in her smile. Welcome home, S.

But that’s not all. Looks like Manhattan has some brand-new imports. Seven, to be exact. Word is, St. Jude’s just welcomed a pack of boys from Tulsa. Yes, Tulsa. They’re rough around the edges, more leather than linen, and rumor has it they only got in because of one bookworm’s scholarship. Will the Curtis crew sink or swim in our shark tank? Stay tuned.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

The notification buzzed on somebody’s phone in the diner across the street, and within minutes, half the Upper East Side was whispering.

“Great,” Dally muttered when Steve read it out loud on his flip phone. “We've been here five minutes and some creep’s already writin’ about us.”

“Gossip Girl,” Two-Bit repeated, eyes gleaming. “Sounds like a dame who’d be into me.”

Pony groaned.

“You don’t get it, Two-Bit,” Pony said with a grimace. “This isn’t good. Everybody’s gonna be watching us now.”

“Let ‘em watch,” I said, slipping on my blazer, tugging at the sleeves. “We’ll give ‘em a show.”

Darry just sighed and grabbed his keys.

“C’mon,” Darry said. “First day. Don’t embarrass me.”

We filed out onto the street, seven boys from Tulsa in stiff blazers, and I swear I could feel eyes on us already. Serena van der Woodsen might’ve been back, but for the first time, I had the sense that we were part of the story too.

And I had no clue what the city was about to throw at us.

The subway ride up to St. Jude’s was packed, and Darry kept a hand on Johnny’s shoulder so he didn’t get separated. Dally cracked jokes about “riding underground with rats,” while Two-Bit tried to impress a businessman by offering him a comic book in exchange for his newspaper. By the time we came out into the bright morning, the city buzzed with energy that made my stomach twist.

And then there it was, St. Jude’s, all stone archways and ivy climbing up the walls. Across the street, Constance girls in pressed uniforms spilled onto the steps of the Met, like they owned the whole block.

“Dang,” I muttered, adjusting my blazer. “This ain’t no Tulsa high school.”

“Feels like walking into a movie set,” Pony said quietly, staring.

Blair Waldorf was front and center on the steps, perched like a queen on her throne. Her hair was perfect, her headband shining, and a group of girls hovered around her like loyal subjects. Chuck Bass leaned against a rail nearby, scarf draped just so, with Nate Archibald at his side, looking like he’d just walked out of a cologne ad.

Two-Bit whistled low.

“So these are the famous Socs of Manhattan, huh?” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

“They ain’t Socs,” Dally said, lighting a cigarette until Darry smacked it out of his mouth. “They’re worse.”

We tried to slip past unnoticed, but of course that wasn’t gonna happen.

Jenny Humphrey, tiny, blonde, and nervous, was climbing the Met steps with a stack of cream-colored envelopes clutched in her hands. She handed them off to Blair like she was offering treasure.

“Here you go, Blair,” Jenny said eagerly. “All the Kiss on the Lips invitations are finished. Hand-calligraphed, just like you wanted.”

Blair didn’t even look up as she took them, flipping through with a satisfied smirk. She plucked one envelope out and, like tossing a crumb to a bird, handed it back to Jenny.

“You can have one,” Blair said, her voice cool but sharp. “Consider it…charity.”

Jenny’s face lit up anyway, clutching the invite like it was gold.

Johnny leaned closer to me.

“What’s the Kiss on the Lips?” Johnny asked nervously.

“Sounds like trouble,” I said, keeping my voice low.

But before I could say more, the crowd shifted. Heads turned, voices rippled, and I heard it: “Serena.”

There she was, standing at the top of the steps like she owned the sunrise. Serena van der Woodsen, tall, blonde, effortless. The girls around Blair straightened, Nate’s face lit up, and Chuck smirked like he’d just been handed a secret.

And us? We just stood there, seven boys from Tulsa staring like idiots while the Upper East Side royalty played out a scene we didn’t belong in.
Two-Bit nudged me.

“Think she’s gonna invite us to this kissin’ party?” Two-Bit jokingly asked.

Dally snorted.

“Not a chance in hell,” Dally muttered.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling. We were in it now, Serena, Blair, Nate, Chuck, Jenny…and the Curtis gang from Tulsa. Whatever game they were playing up here, we’d just been dealt in.
And I wasn’t sure if we were holding a winning hand, or if the city was about to eat us alive.

By the time the final bell rang, I felt like I’d been stuffed into somebody else’s skin all day. Classes were fine, I guess, but it was the people, every kid struttin’ around like they owned the world, wearin’ designer labels I couldn’t even pronounce. Me, Steve, Johnny, Dally, Two-Bit, and Pony stuck close, tryin’ not to look like the lost puppies we kinda were. Darry was waitin’ out front by the time we got out, he’d picked up his work badge, a shiny thing clipped on his shirt, like he belonged here more than any of us did.

“C’mon,” Darry said, his voice brisk but warm. “We’re gonna grab a few things at the mall before we head back.”

The mall wasn’t like Tulsa’s. It wasn’t just stores; it was a palace. Marble floors shinin’ under crystal chandeliers, high-end brands in glass windows, people dressed sharper for shoppin’ than we’d dress for church. I whistled low.

“Dang,” I said. “This place doesn’t mess around.”

Two-Bit chuckled.

“Bet they’d kick me out as soon as I tried to walk off with somethin’ shiny,” Two-Bit joked.

“Don’t even think about it,” Darry warned, shootin’ him a look.

We’d just made it past a perfume counter when I spotted a familiar face. The tiny blonde girl from this morning, Jenny Humphrey, was standing in front of a rack of sparkly dresses, holding one against herself and squinting at the mirror. A tall, scruffy guy about my age stood nearby, arms crossed like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“That’s her brother, Dan,” Pony whispered, like he’d already memorized every Upper East Side kid’s name by osmosis.

Jenny’s eyes lit up when she saw Serena van der Woodsen across the way with her kid brother. Serena was hard to miss, tall, with wavy blonde hair, a movie star aura that made everyone else in the place fade into background noise. Next to her was Eric, younger, softer around the edges, like a kid you’d wanna protect.

Jenny rushed up, clutchin’ one of those fancy invitations she’d been passin’ around all day. I tried not to stare, but it was hard not to, watching’ these Upper East Side kids was like watchin’ a movie play out in real time.

“Serena!” Jenny beamed, her voice high and eager. “I…I made this invitation for Blair’s Kiss on the Lips party, but I’ll just tell people I didn’t know where it came from.” She thrust the envelope forward, almost shyly.

Serena blinked, surprised, then smiled in that easy, disarming way of hers.

“Thanks, Jenny,” Serena said. She glanced at Eric, then tucked the invite into her bag.

The whole moment felt loaded, like somethin’ more was goin’ on than I could see. Gossip Girl’s voice might as well have been narrating it in my head, the way people’s glances lingered too long, the way tension buzzed in the air.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Steve muttered to me, smirkin’. “We’re about three seconds from bein’ extras in somebody’s soap opera.”

I laughed under my breath, but the truth was, he wasn’t wrong. This wasn’t Tulsa. This wasn’t even close. This was a whole new world—and somehow, we were right in the middle of it.

Darry herded us forward, not wanting us to linger too long, but I glanced back once. Jenny clutched another dress, eyes darting between Serena and her brother, like she was taking mental notes for how to survive this place. I kinda knew the feeling.

Maybe we weren’t so different after all.

That night, Darry surprised us. Instead of headin’ straight home after dinner, he said, “Come on. I think we could all use a little air. There’s a lounge at the Palace Hotel, nice, but not too nice. We’ll go for a soda or somethin’ before we turn in.”

The Palace was somethin’ else. Polished marble lobby, gold accents, and the kind of lighting that made everybody look like they belonged on the cover of a magazine. I tugged at the collar of my shirt, feelin’ about as out of place as a pair of boots at a ballet.

“Dang,” Two-Bit whispered. “A place like this, even the toilets probably got bodyguards.”

Dally just smirked, leanin’ back like he’d been here a hundred times before, though I could see the way his eyes darted, takin’ it all in.

We headed toward the bar area. Darry told us to grab a table off to the side while he handled the ordering. Pony slid into the seat next to me, eyes already wanderin’. He was watchin’ people, soakin’ up the details like he always did.

That’s when I spotted her. Serena. She was sittin’ at a little round table near the bar, blonde hair loose around her shoulders, starin’ into a half-empty glass that was definitely more than soda. Across from her sat Blair Waldorf, lookin’ every bit the queen she’d been all day, head held high, eyes sharp as glass.

We weren’t close enough to catch every word, but the bar wasn’t loud either. Their voices carried just enough.

Serena leaned forward, soft.

“How’s your mom doing…with the divorce?” Sereana asked.

Blair stiffened, her manicured fingers drumming against her drink.

“How do you think?” Blair snapped. “My dad left her for a man, Serena. And you…” Her voice cracked sharply. “You didn’t even call. Or write. Nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” Serena said quickly, her eyes glassy. “I should’ve…”

Blair cut her off, bitter.

“But you didn’t,” Blair snapped. “I had to hear you were leaving from your mom. You didn’t even tell me yourself. You just…vanished.”

Serena’s jaw worked.

“Boarding school was…it was complicated, B,” Serena said. “I had to go. I needed to get away from everything. Please…” Serena reached across the table, desperate…“Please trust me.”

Blair gave a soft, humorless laugh.

“Trust you?” Blair asked. “I don’t even know you anymore. Not really.”

Serena blinked back tears.

“Then let me fix that,” Serena said. “I don’t want to take your friends from you. That’s not what I’m here for.”
Blair’s lips twisted into a scuff.

“Like they’re yours to take if you wanted,” Blair spat.

“That’s not what I mean!” Serena said quickly. “I just want things to go back to how they used to be.”

For a second, neither of them spoke. Then Blair’s face softened just enough. Serena reached again, and this time, Blair let her. They hugged, awkward but real.

“I love you, B,” Serena murmured.

“Love you too,” Blair said, though her voice still carried that edge, that warning.

When Blair finally stood, her chin lifted as if nothing had happened at all. But when she turned toward the exit, her gaze snagged on us, seven boys from Tulsa sittin’ in the corner booth, tryin’ and failin’ not to look like we’d just watched a soap opera unfold live.

Her smirk returned. Queen Blair again. She reached into her bag, pulled out a handful of glittering invitations, and sauntered over.

“Well,” Blair said, voice sugar-sweet but loaded, “you boys look like you could use a little fun. Consider yourselves invited.” She set the envelopes down on our table with a dramatic little flourish. “The Kiss on the Lips party. Thursday night. Don’t be late.”

Two-Bit snatched one up like it was a golden ticket.

“Now this,” Two-Bit whispered, “is my kinda homework.”

Blair gave us one last sly smile before gliding out, heels clickin’ against marble. Serena stayed behind at the table, watchin’ her go, drink still in hand.

Right on cue, all our phones buzzed. Pony fumbled his out first. It was another blast from Gossip Girl:

Spotted: B & S making up at the Palace. Hugs, love, maybe even a truce? But don’t put away your claws just yet, kitties, the drama’s only just begun. And what’s this? The Tulsa gang scoring invites to Blair Waldorf’s exclusive Kiss on the Lips? Careful, boys, one step in this jungle and you’re prey. And S, thirsty much? Hope that cocktail was worth it. You know you can’t hide from me.
You know you love me. XOXO—Gossip Girl.

Johnny groaned.

“Man, even when we don’t do nothin’, we’re front page news,” Johnny muttered.

Dally laughed low.

“Welcome to New York, kid,” Dally said with a smirk. “This is the big leagues.”

And I just sat back, invitation heavy in my hand, wonderin’ what exactly we’d just been dropped into.

We didn’t leave right away. Darry was enjoyin’ his coffee too much, Johnny was sinkin’ into the soft booth like he could live there, and Two-Bit was actin’ like the whole joint was his personal stage. So we lingered.

The bar crowd started thinnin’ out, but Serena stayed, leanin’ against the counter with that casual grace that made everybody else look like they were tryin’ too hard. Then, out of nowhere, Chuck Bass swaggered up. I’d clocked him earlier at school, slick suit, smirk like he owned the world, and eyes that looked right through you like you were just another notch in his belt.

“Guess I'd better call my dad,” Chuck said as he slid onto the stool beside her. “Let him know they’re servin’ minors in his bar.”

Serena shot him a look, smirkin’ as she lifted her glass.

“Then I’ll tell him they’re also servin’ pigs,” Serena shot back.

Dally barked out a laugh under his breath.

“She’s got teeth. I like her,” Dally said.

Chuck leaned closer, unfazed.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Chuck said.

Serena didn’t miss a beat.

“And you love it when girls talk,” Serena said.

Chuck’s smirk deepened.

“Actually, I prefer them not to talk,” Chuck retorted.

“Wow,” Steve muttered beside me, brows raisin’. “Guy’s a real charmer.”

But Serena just smiled thinly.

“I enjoy our witty banter,” Serena said.

“Me too,” Chuck said. “We should catch up. Take our clothes off. Stare at each other.”

Johnny’s jaw dropped.

“He just said that?” Johnny said, aghast. Out loud?”

Serena shook her head, amused but guarded.

“I should get a bite to eat before I drink any more,” Serena said with a sigh. “Don’t wanna do it on an empty stomach.”

Chuck tilted his head, voice low.

“I thought you didn’t do that anymore,” Chuck said, curious.

“This is a special occasion,” Serena replied, her tone cool but just a little unsteady.

Chuck leaned in, smug.

“I’ll order you a grilled cheese,” Chuck said sweetly. “With truffle oil.”

Serena laughed, short and surprised.

“That’s not on the menu,” Serena retorted.

Chuck gave her that predator’s grin.

“Good thing I’m connected,” Chuck said.

When she finally slid off the stool, she was just the tiniest bit tipsy, her steps loose. Chuck reached out, steadying her by the arm. For a second, I thought she might let him, but Serena pulled away quickly, chin high.

“Only when I’m hungry,” Serena said, voice sharp. Then she turned and walked off, leaving Chuck standing there with that same lazy smirk plastered on his face.

Of course, he followed anyway.

Two-Bit leaned forward, eyes wide.

“I feel like I just watched a soap opera and a crime documentary all rolled into one,” Two-Bit joked.

Pony frowned, worry creasing his face.

“She didn’t look like she wanted him following,” Pony said in concern.

Dally snorted.

“She’s tough,” Dally said dismissively. “But that guy’s trouble. I can smell it.”

Darry shot us all a look, firm.

“Eyes down, boys,” Darry warned. “Not our business. Let’s finish up and head home.”

But I couldn’t help staring after them, the two of them disappearing through the hotel doors. Maybe it wasn’t our business, but I had the feeling that, like it or not, we were already tangled up in theirs.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Darry’s POV

The next night, I hardly recognized the boys. Soda had wrangled them into dress clothes, though “dress” meant different things depending on which one you looked at. Soda had that easy charm, dark slacks, and a shirt he somehow made look like it belonged on a runway. Pony tugged at the collar of his borrowed jacket, fidgety but sharp, while Johnny looked like he was tryin’ to disappear into his sleeves. Steve smoothed his tie like he was about to race it instead of wear it, and Two-Bit strutted like a peacock, grinnin’ wide even if his shirt was mismatched with his vest.

Dally? He just rolled up in his usual leather jacket with dark slacks.

“This is me dressed up,” Dally said when Soda complained. I let it go. At least he’d showered.

We stepped into the ballroom, and I’ll admit, even I was impressed. Chandelier light dripped across the room, glittering off sequins and champagne flutes. The crowd was all silk dresses, sharp suits, and whispers behind jeweled hands. I kept my shoulders squared, makin’ sure the boys stayed together. We stood out no matter what we wore, and I wasn’t about to let ‘em get eaten alive.

Blair Waldorf was there in the center of it all, regal in her gown, handing out smiles like favors. Jenny Humphrey hovered nearby, nerves written across her face even as she clutched a tray of invitations like a badge of honor. Chuck Bass leaned against the wall, already swirling a glass of champagne, eyes sweeping the room like it belonged to him. Nate Archibald stood a step behind Blair, his expression torn between admiration and guilt.

I kept us near the back, close enough to blend, far enough to watch.

That’s when Chuck peeled himself off the wall and strolled straight toward Jenny.

“Hi,” Chuck drawled, voice smooth as oil. “Chuck Bass.”

Jenny blinked, startled.

“Hi…” Jenny said with a small smile.

I didn’t like the look in his eye. Predatory. He leaned closer, plucked a bottle of champagne off a passing tray, and whispered something in her ear. Before I could move, he’d taken her by the arm and steered her out a side door, laughing low. Jenny looked uncertain, but she didn’t fight it. Not yet.

I stiffened. Soda caught my arm.

“Darry…” Soda said worriedly.

“Not our fight,” I muttered, but my gut twisted. Not yet.

Inside, a hush fell. Serena van der Woodsen had just walked in, glowing like she belonged on every magazine cover stacked at the newsstand. Heads turned, whispers flew.

Blair’s smile faltered. Her jaw tightened. She set her drink down with a sharp clink.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Blair hissed.

Nate moved toward her, hands raised.

“Blair…” Nate said in warning.

“Don’t,” Blair snapped. “Don’t you dare defend her.”

“She’s your best friend,” Nate said softly. “You two…”

“She left me,” Blair cut him off, eyes blazing. “No calls, no letters. Nothing. And now she shows up here like nothing happened?”

Serena paused at the edge of the crowd, trying to meet Blair’s gaze. For a second, the whole room held its breath.

Before the tension could break, my phone buzzed. Pony glanced at his own at the same time. A new Gossip Girl blast lit the screen:

Spotted: Jenny Humphrey sneakin’ out with Chuck Bass. Champagne, secrets, and an alley rendezvous? Little J, hope you know what you’re doin’. Or maybe you don’t. Either way…better text big brother. XOXO—Gossip Girl.

Pony’s eyes went wide.

“Darry…” Pony said.

And sure enough, across the room, Dan Humphrey barged through the entrance, phone in hand, face thunderous. He pushed past the crowd, spotted Serena, and blurted, “My sister, she’s with Chuck. I got her text.”

Serena’s eyes widened. Without hesitation, she said, “Where?”

“Roof,” Dan panted. “She said roof.”

They were already moving before I could say anything, rushing for the stairs. I glanced at Soda, who nodded like he knew what I was thinkin’.

“Go,” Soda whispered. “We’ll keep things steady here.”

I trailed a few steps back, not close enough to interfere, but close enough to make sure no one got hurt.

The rooftop was cold under the city sky. Jenny was pressed against the ledge, her voice breaking.

“Chuck, stop,” Jenny pleaded. “Please, I said no…”

Chuck loomed over her, bottle dangling from his hand, his smile ugly now.

“Relax,” Chuck said coolly. “You’ll like it. Everyone does.”

“Get off her!” Dan roared, charging forward.

Chuck turned, smug, but before he could say a word, Dan’s fist connected square with his jaw. The bottle clattered to the ground, champagne spilling across the rooftop like wasted gold.

Jenny scrambled free, rushing into Serena’s arms.

Chuck stumbled back, shock flickering across his face before it twisted into a snarl.

“You’re gonna regret that,” Chuck growled.

“Try me,” Dan snapped, fists still raised.

Serena stood tall beside him, shielding Jenny.

“Back off, Chuck,” Serena growled. “Now.”

For once, Chuck didn’t have a comeback. He straightened his collar, shot Dan a venomous look, and stalked off toward the stairs, muttering under his breath.

Jenny clung to Serena, tears streaking her cheeks. Dan pulled her close, relief flooding his face.

I stood in the shadows, fists clenched. That could’ve ended a whole lot worse. Chuck Bass was trouble, trouble that made Dallas Winston look like a choirboy. And if this was just night one in the Upper East Side?

We were in deeper than I’d ever imagined.

Back downstairs, the party hadn’t lost an ounce of its shine. The chandeliers still sparkled, champagne still flowed, and Blair Waldorf still reigned supreme at the center of the ballroom. But when Serena reappeared, walking in beside Dan with Jenny tucked safely at her brother’s side, the whole room seemed to shift.

Dan’s hand brushed Serena’s, and before long, the two were holding hands outright. It wasn’t loud or showy, just natural, like they’d been doin’ it forever. Still, it was enough to freeze Blair where she stood. She stared at them, lips pressed tight, eyes dark with something close to betrayal.

“Uh oh,” Two-Bit muttered at our table. “Somebody’s about to get dethroned.”

“Quiet,” I warned, though I couldn’t deny the truth. Blair looked like she could set the whole ballroom on fire with one glare.

Dan walked Jenny outside, Serena trailing beside them. Pony and Soda nudged closer to the windows, trying to see. I followed, keeping one eye on the boys and one eye on the Humphreys.

Outside, Dan flagged down a yellow cab. Jenny climbed in, wiping at her eyes, still shaken but steadying now that her brother was there. Serena hovered close, protective.

Dan lingered at the open door, leaning in toward Serena.

“So…do I have a shot at a second date?” Dan asked.

Serena smiled, soft but cautious.

“We’ll see,” Serena said.

Dan closed the cab door, giving it a couple of taps. Jenny waved through the window as it pulled away, Serena standing at Dan’s side.

Blair had followed them out, her arms crossed tight against her chest. The cab disappeared down the avenue, and Blair called out, voice like steel. “You better not show your face here again.”

But her words weren’t for Serena. They were for Jenny.

Before Serena could respond, another figure stepped out from the shadows of the alley. Chuck Bass, scarf draped around his neck like armor, smirking as if the punch he’d taken never happened.

“I hope she will,” Chuck said, his voice low and smug.

Blair shot him a withering look, then turned on her heel, stalking back toward the glowing hotel doors. Chuck followed at a lazy pace, like a predator never in a hurry.

Nate appeared then, half-hidden near the alley with a bottle of beer in his hand, the picture of conflict. He looked at Serena across the sidewalk, but said nothing, drinking deeply instead.

I stood with my boys, watchin’ all of it unfold, my gut twistin’. We’d only been in New York a few days, and already I could tell these people lived in a world of betrayals, scandals, and secrets. And somehow, we’d been invited right into the middle of it.

My phone buzzed again. So did everyone else’s. The newest Gossip Girl blast lit the screens, sealing the night:

Spotted: S making her grand re-entrance at B’s party. Old flames, new sparks, and a Humphrey in the middle? XOXO. And let’s not forget, Chuck Bass took a hit tonight, but don’t count him out yet. Looks like the Tulsa gang survived their first Upper East Side soirée… but how long before they’re chewed up and spit out?

You know you love me.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit leaned back against the wall, grinning like it was all entertainment.

“This city’s better than cable,” Two-Bit joked.

“Yeah,” I muttered, my eyes on Serena, Blair, and Chuck as they vanished back inside. “Or worse.”

Either way, I knew one thing for sure: our lives weren’t gonna be simple anymore. Not here.

Sunday Morning…

Sunday mornings in Tulsa meant pancakes, black coffee, and the newspaper. In Manhattan, apparently, it meant rich people putting on suits to sip champagne and smile at each other like they weren’t all scheming behind closed doors.

Bart Bass’s annual foundation brunch. That was the big event of the day. And somehow, the Curtis boys plus the rest of the gang were on the invite list. Serena had mentioned it casually the night before, like it wasn’t a big deal. But to us? Walking into the Palace Hotel ballroom full of Manhattan’s richest was about as foreign as landing on the moon.

I tugged at my borrowed suit jacket; it was a little tight across the shoulders, but it’d have to do. Pony looked sharp in a slim black blazer Serena had gotten him to wear. Soda was bouncing around like he was heading to a dance, grinning at every reflection he caught in the lobby mirrors. Johnny was more nervous than he’d admit, pulling at his tie, and Dally… well, Dally looked like he was ready to light a cigarette in the middle of the ballroom just to see who he could tick off first. Steve and Two-Bit acted like they owned the place, cracking jokes on the way in.

The Palace ballroom was nothing like the school gyms or community centers back home. Crystal chandeliers hung above us, tables were draped in white linen, and servers in tuxedos floated by with trays of champagne glasses and mimosas. Everyone looked like they’d stepped out of the pages of a magazine.

“Remind me again why we’re here?” Steve muttered, adjusting his collar like it was strangling him.

“‘Cause apparently this is what rich people do on Sundays,” Soda said with a laugh. “Man, look at all this food!” He darted toward a table stacked with croissants, smoked salmon, and fruit towers.
Two-Bit snorted.

“This ain’t breakfast, it’s artwork,” Two-Bit joked.

As we spread out a little, I caught sight of the Upper East Side crew. Serena was already there, standing tall in a cream-colored dress that made half the room turn their heads when she walked by. Blair was across the room with Nate, her arm looped possessively through his. Chuck, looking smug as ever, was flanked by his father, Bart Bass, who had the kind of presence that could make a room quiet without saying a word.

Bart spotted us and raised a brow, like he was wondering how we ended up on his guest list. But he didn’t say anything, just moved on to shake hands with another donor.

“Guess we stick out like sore thumbs,” Johnny said quietly, eyes scanning the crowd.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “But we’re here now. Just keep it together.”

Before long, the tension in the room started to pick up, just as it had at the party last night. Blair was glaring daggers at Serena, Serena was pretending not to notice, and Nate was caught in the middle like he always seemed to be.

Chuck smirked as he leaned against the bar, his eyes finding Serena.

“Careful, S,” Chuck said loud enough for half the room to hear. “Brunch is meant for family, not for scandal.”

“Go to hell, Chuck,” Serena shot back smoothly, not even breaking stride.

“Aw, but we’re already there,” Chuck drawled. “Upper East Side brunch, same thing.”

Two-Bit leaned over to Dally.

“This guy’s begging to get his teeth knocked out,” Two-Bit whispered.

Dally cracked a grin.

“Say the word,” Dally muttered.

But before we could get any further into that thought, Bart Bass tapped his glass for attention, giving some speech about the foundation, legacy, and community service. I half-listened, more focused on the people around me. Gossip was buzzing through the room, about Serena’s return, about Blair’s grudge, about Chuck’s scandal with Jenny the night before. You didn’t have to be Pony with his head full of books to see the cracks in this shiny, perfect crowd.

And then, right on cue, everyone’s phone chimed at once. Another Gossip Girl blast.

Spotted: Serena van der Woodsen at the Bass brunch. Looking radiant in cream, but not fooling anyone. Word is, Blair Waldorf isn’t ready to forgive and forget. As for the Tulsa gang? Guess Oklahoma’s finest traded in their boots for brunch. Careful, boys, you’re not in Kansas anymore. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda groaned.

“Man, she’s faster than the rumor mill back home,” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I muttered, glancing across the ballroom where Blair and Serena were squaring off yet again. “ Something tells me this brunch is just getting started.”

The room was buzzing, forks clinking against plates, waiters weaving between tables. I thought maybe the tension would die down once Bart Bass finished his speech and people went back to pretending to like each other. I was wrong.

Blair made her move.

She stood up, champagne flute in hand, and tapped it with her nail until the crystal chimed sharp enough to cut through the chatter. Every head in the ballroom turned her way. Nate froze mid-sip, Serena stiffened at her table, and Chuck smirked like he’d been waiting all morning for the fireworks.

“Since we’re all gathered here to celebrate family and community,” Blair started, voice sweet as sugar but sharp underneath, “I think it’s the perfect time to acknowledge someone who’s recently returned to ours.”

Her eyes locked on Serena like a hunter spotting prey.

“Welcome back, Serena,” Blair said, smiling so wide it had to hurt. “We all missed you terribly.”

A few polite claps echoed, but the air was tight. Everyone knew what she was really saying.

Serena stood slowly, trying to meet Blair’s hostility with calm.

“Thanks, Blair,” Serena said. “It’s good to be home.”

Blair’s smile faltered, just a flicker, before she tilted her chin.

“Of course, I should remind everyone that Serena wasn’t able to be here for some important moments,” Blair said. “Like when my family fell apart. Or when Nate and I…” She trailed off, letting the weight of it hang, letting everyone fill in the blanks.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. This wasn’t a toast; it was a public execution.

Pony leaned toward me.

“She’s airing dirty laundry at a charity brunch,” Pony whispered.

“Yeah,” I muttered, “and Serena’s the laundry.”

Serena’s face tightened, but she kept her composure. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Blair. You know why I left.”

“Do I?” Blair shot back, voice sharp. “Because all I know is you disappeared without a word. And now you’re back, acting like nothing happened.”

The whole room was silent. Even Soda had stopped sneaking croissants.

Nate finally stood, looking between them like a kid caught between his parents in a fight.

“Blair, maybe this isn’t the time…” Nate warned.

But Blair cut him off, her eyes flashing.

“No, Nate,” Blair said. “This is exactly the time. Because everyone here should know the truth. Serena doesn’t just leave, she takes. Friends. Boyfriends. Trust.”

Her words hit like a slap, and I could see Serena fighting to hold her ground.

“Man, that girl’s sharper than a switchblade,” Two-Bit muttered.

Serena’s voice shook, but she forced it steady.

“I didn’t come back to hurt anyone,” Serena said. “I came back because I want to make things right.”

Blair laughed, cold and bitter.

“You can’t just walk back in and expect everything to go back to the way it was,” Blair said.

Serena’s eyes softened, pleading.

“I don’t expect that,” Serena said. “I just… I miss you, B. I want my best friend back.”

For a second, Blair’s face cracked, like she might give in. But then she caught sight of Serena’s hand brushing against Nate’s arm, just for balance, and her jaw snapped shut.

She lifted her glass one last time.

“Here’s to new beginnings,” Blair said.

She downed the champagne in one swallow, set the flute down hard on the table, and walked out of the ballroom without another word. Nate hesitated, torn, then followed her. Chuck trailed behind with that smug grin, scarf dangling from his neck like a badge of victory.

The room exploded into whispers. Phones buzzed. Another Gossip Girl blast hit the air:

Spotted: S and B in an all-out brunch battle. Looks like forgiveness isn’t on the menu. And who knew Oklahoma boys had front row seats to the takedown of the century? Careful, boys, Upper East Side brunches are blood sport. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Johnny exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“Man… and I thought our rumbles were bad,” Johnny said nervously.

Soda let out a low whistle.

“Guess we just found out brunch is more dangerous than the streets of Tulsa,” Soda said.

I sat back, scanning the room, Serena standing alone, trying not to cry, Bart Bass pretending nothing had happened, and everyone else feeding off the drama like it was part of the meal.

This world was sharp, dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with fists or knives. And whether we liked it or not, we were part of it now.

The ballroom was still humming with whispers after Blair’s exit. People turned their chairs, leaned in close, whispered behind napkins like they’d just witnessed a Broadway show instead of a public meltdown.

Serena, though, was standing frozen in the middle of it all, like the spotlight had burned her. She glanced around, looking for a safe face, and her eyes landed on Dan Humphrey across the room. He’d just arrived, Jenny trailing behind him like she’d been begging him to come.

Dan’s jaw was tight. He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Serena brightened a little when she saw him, like maybe he was her lifeline. She crossed the floor quickly, almost tripping over the hem of her dress in her hurry.

“Dan, hey,” Serena said, breathless. “You came.”

Dan looked at her, then past her to the table she’d been sitting at, the Van Der Woodsens, Nate, Chuck, the whole glittering world. His voice was flat.

“Yeah, mistake,” Dan deadpanned.

“Dan…” Serena started, but he cut her off.

“You know what?” Dan said. “I thought you were different.” His voice carried in the hushed room, enough that a few heads turned. “But you’re just like all of them. This…” He waved a hand around at the crystal, the silver, the designer dresses. “This isn’t me. And maybe it’s not you either, but you sure look comfortable here.”

Serena’s face flushed, hurt flickering across it.

“That’s not fair,” Serena protested. “You don’t know what it’s like…”

Dan shook his head, bitter.

“Yeah, I do,” Dan shot back. “You had a choice to call me last night. You didn’t. Instead, I find out you’re here, at this circus, pretending like you’re better than it.”

Serena’s mouth opened, then closed again. She reached for his arm, desperate.

“Dan, please, just let me explain…” Serena said.

But he pulled back, shaking her off.

“No. I don’t want to be part of this game,” Dan said angrily.

Jenny tugged at his sleeve, eyes darting between them.

“Dan…” Jenny said.

But Dan was already moving, striding out through the grand double doors, anger in every step. Jenny hesitated, throwing Serena a guilty look, then hurried after her brother.

The room buzzed louder, a feeding frenzy for the gossip-hungry.

Serena stood there, stricken, before she finally rushed out too, chasing him into the hallway.

Pony leaned toward me.

“Feels like we’re watching a car crash in slow motion,” Pony murmured.
Soda whistled low.

“Man, and I thought our family drama was bad,” Soda said.

Two-Bit smirked, tapping his phone like he was waiting for the blast to hit.

“Just wait. Gossip Girl’s gonna eat this alive,” Two-Bit joked.

Sure enough, moments later, every kid’s phone in the room buzzed. Pony glanced at one screen near us, eyes wide as he read:

Spotted: Lonely Boy ditching S at brunch. Guess chivalry isn’t dead, just uninterested. And S? Running after him doesn’t make it look better. Hungry for more drama? Stick around. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Johnny shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t get how people live like this. Everyone’s just… watching, waiting to tear somebody apart.”

I scanned the room, Bart Bass ignoring the scene, Lily Van Der Woodsen pretending nothing was wrong, and Chuck smirking like Christmas came early.

“Because here,” I muttered, “the fight’s not with fists. It’s with secrets.”

And if we weren’t careful, we were going to get pulled right into it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Two-Bit’s POV

Ivy Week.

Didn’t sound too scary at first. Back home in Tulsa, “Ivy” was just something that crawled up the side of your fence and gave you a rash if you weren’t careful. But here? Nah, in Manhattan, it meant a week where kids our age, kids in blazers that cost more than Darry made in a month, paraded around like they were auditioning for Harvard before they even finished Algebra II.

And the Curtis gang? We were supposed to fit right in.

“Alright, men,” Darry barked that morning, straightening Soda’s tie for the fifth time. “This isn’t just another school day. Colleges are scouting. Don’t embarrass yourselves.”

“Colleges?” Steve groaned. “Man, I still ain’t figured out how to spell half the words in my English class.”

“Latin,” I reminded him with a grin. “Don’t forget you’re takin’ Latin. You’re practically a priest now.”

Steve flipped me off when Darry wasn’t lookin’.

I had my blazer on, but I stuck one of my Mickey Mouse pins through the lapel. Gotta let folks know who they’re dealin’ with. Johnny said it was gonna get me detention, but Soda called it “personality.” I liked his answer better.

We spilled onto the subway, a pack of Tulsa boys crammed shoulder-to-shoulder with Upper East Side kids who probably had never stepped underground in their lives. The ride rattled, smelled like old pennies and perfume, and Pony kept scribblin’ in his notebook, mumbling something about “culture clash.”

When we hit the school gates, I realized Ivy Week wasn’t just some flyers tacked to a bulletin board. There were banners, booths, parents milling around in suits, college reps smiling like sharks. Constance girls stood in little clusters, whispering behind manicured hands. St. Jude’s boys strutted like peacocks, tossin’ their scarves just right.

And smack dab on the steps of the Met again? Blair Waldorf, queen bee herself, sittin’ pretty with her girls around her like ladies-in-waitin’. Jenny Humphrey was scurrying about at her side, carrying folders and flyers like some kinda medieval squire.

“Man,” Soda muttered low, “these kids are playin’ chess while we’re still figurin’ out checkers.”

“Speak for yourself,” Dally said with a smirk. “I play poker.”

That’s when the buzz hit. Phones lit up, and you could feel it ripple through the crowd like a gunshot back home. Gossip Girl had struck again.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST]

Ivy Week is here, which means pedigrees on display and secrets tucked behind blazers. But while the Upper East Side polishes their résumés, our Tulsa imports look more like they wandered into the wrong movie set. Question is, are they background extras…or will they steal the spotlight? XOXO, Gossip Girl.

I felt Soda tense beside me, but I just laughed.

“Background extras?” I said. “Baby, I’m star material.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, but he smiled a little, too.

The rest of the morning was a blur: college booths, Blair fluttering her lashes at reps, Serena floating in like sunlight that didn’t belong to anybody, and Chuck Bass leanin’ against a pillar like the world was already his inheritance. Pony kept scribbling notes, Soda charmed half the girls who passed by, and me? I pocketed a free Ivy League pen or two.

But the real show hadn’t even started yet. I could feel it in the air, buzzing like the radiator back in our apartment. Gossip Girl wasn’t done with us, not by a long shot.

Ivy Week wasn’t just a show; it was a war. The kind fought with charm, résumés, and the occasional dagger disguised as a smile.

Blair strutted around like she owned the place, practically dragging Nate with her while she sweet-talked college reps. Serena followed a few steps behind, calm and graceful, like she didn’t even have to try. And that’s what made Blair furious; you could see it in the way her smile twitched every time a rep’s eyes lit up brighter for Serena.

“Watch this,” Blair said loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, holding out her hand to some Princeton guy. “My mother’s an alum. I practically grew up in the shadow of Nassau Hall.”

The rep smiled politely, but then Serena breezed by in a cream jacket, flashing that easy grin.

“Oh, hey, I was just at Princeton last spring,” Serena said. “Loved the campus.”

The guy nearly tripped over himself to give her his card.

Blair’s jaw tightened so hard I thought she’d crack a tooth.

Soda nudged me.

“Man, this is better than TV,” Soda whispered.

“Better than daytime soaps,” I said, grinning. “And live, too.”

Over by the Yale table, Dan Humphrey was getting dragged into the mess thanks to Jenny, who seemed determined to keep him in Serena’s orbit. He stood there in his thrift-store blazer, shifting awkwardly as Serena introduced him to a rep.

“This is Dan,” Serena said warmly. “He’s… passionate about writing.”

Dan cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Uh, books. Words. Stuff.”

Dally snorted beside me.

“Smooth, Humphrey,” Dally teased.

But Serena just laughed, eyes shining, like Dan had said something brilliant. Blair caught the whole thing, and you could practically see the steam rising outta her headband.

Meanwhile, Pony was scribbling furiously in his notebook, probably taking down every detail like he was writing his own exposé. Johnny stayed close to him, looking like he wished the ground would swallow him up. Steve swiped free pastries from the Dartmouth table until Darry gave him a look that could cut glass.

And then, just like clockwork, the buzz hit. Phones lit up all around us, the whispers rising before anyone even read the words.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST]

Looks like Ivy Week isn’t just about résumés, it’s about rivalries. B’s playing queen for the college reps, but S doesn’t even have to try to steal the spotlight. And Lonely Boy? Looks like he’s traded Brooklyn grit for Ivy League charm, with a little help from his golden girl. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about our Tulsa guests. Word is, one of them has already pocketed more than just free pens. Naughty, naughty. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Steve elbowed me.

“That last part’s you, isn’t it?” Steve asked.

I twirled the Ivy League pen I’d snagged earlier and grinned.

“What can I say?” I asked with a shrug. “Free is free.”

Darry groaned, rubbing his temples.

“I’m gonna lose my mind before this week’s over,” Darry muttered.

But me? I was lovin’ every second. Ivy Week might’ve been about colleges and futures for these Upper East Siders, but for us greasers from Tulsa? It was the best free entertainment we’d ever had.
And something told me the curtain hadn’t even lifted on the real show yet.

Turns out, Ivy Week wasn’t just for showin’ off. There were prizes at stake, big ones. For St. Jude’s boys, the crown jewel was getting picked as the Dartmouth usher, which basically meant you were the golden child for admissions.

The school set up a whole round of interviews, one-on-one with the Dartmouth rep. It was supposed to be a test of charm, polish, and brains. In other words, everything the Tulsa gang was short on.
Still, I signed up. Not ‘cause I wanted to go to Dartmouth (I didn’t even know where Dartmouth was on a map), but because I wanted to see how much I could get away with.

The rep sat behind a polished oak table in one of the classrooms they’d converted for the interviews. His suit looked like it cost more than our entire apartment, and his eyes had that glazed-over look of a man who’d already heard too many rehearsed speeches.

“Keith Mathews,” he said, glancing at my form. “Tulsa, Oklahoma. Tell me, why Dartmouth?”

I grinned widely.

“Well, sir, I hear the beer’s cold, the girls are pretty, and the winters’ll kill ya if you don’t keep movin’,” I joked. “Sounds like my kinda place.”

The rep blinked at me, lips twitching like he wasn’t sure if I was joking.
“Interesting,” The rep said.

Behind me, Soda nearly lost it, muffling his laugh into his sleeve.

Next up was Nate Archibald, Mr. Golden Boy himself. He strolled in like the usher role was already his birthright. The rep perked right up, askin’ about his father’s Dartmouth legacy, his lacrosse record, and his “commitment to tradition.” Nate nodded along, charming and smooth, but there was something hollow in his eyes, like he didn’t even care.

Then came Chuck Bass. He slid into the chair like he was at a poker table, not an interview.

“Why Dartmouth?” the rep asked.

“Because it’s not Harvard,” Chuck smirked, leaning back. “And because Dartmouth girls have a reputation.”

The rep cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

“Yes, well…” The rep said.

Even Dally chuckled at that one.

“Kid’s a pig, but at least he’s consistent,” Dally said with a smirk.

Then it was Dan’s turn. Poor guy looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. He stumbled through something about writing, academics, and wanting to be challenged. He wasn’t slick like Nate or shameless like Chuck, but he was real, and the rep actually seemed to listen. Serena stood outside the door the whole time, smiling at him like he was acing it.

“You think Dan’s got a shot?” Johnny whispered to Pony.

Pony nodded.

“He’s honest,” Pony said. “That counts.”

When it was all over, we gathered in the hallway, waitin’ for the results. Blair glided by, still tryin’ to one-up Serena in every direction, and Jenny trailed behind with her stack of Ivy Week folders. Phones buzzed again.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST]

Dartmouth interviews: Nate A, the legacy, yawns through tradition. Chuck B, true to form, keeps it dirty. And Lonely Boy? Word is he might’ve charmed more than just the reps. As for our Tulsa troublemaker, Two-Bit Mathews, let’s just say Dartmouth’s winter isn’t ready for Mickey Mouse. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda slapped me on the back, laughing.

“They’re already writing you out of Ivy League history, man,” Soda said.

“Good,” I said, spinning my stolen Ivy pen between my fingers. “I’d rather be a legend than a legacy anyway.”

The results for the Dartmouth usher gig went up on a bulletin board in the main hall, and the crowd swarmed like it was a boxing match announcement back home. Elbows flew, ties got tugged, and I swear Soda nearly lifted me by the collar just to get a better look.

“Alright, alright, lemme see!” I hollered, grinning as I craned my neck.

And there it was:

Dartmouth Usher — Nate Archibald.

“Figures,” Steve muttered. “Golden Boy wins again.”

But Nate didn’t look like a winner. He stood in front of the list with his jaw tight, eyes darting like he wanted to be anywhere else. Chuck clapped him on the back, smirking.

“Congrats, Nathaniel,” Chuck drawled. “Now you get to stand around all night pretending you care about old guys in suits. Try not to fall asleep.”

Nate shot him a look, but said nothing.

Blair swooped in then, looping her arm through Nate’s.

“See?” Blair said. “Everything’s perfect. My boyfriend is the Dartmouth usher. Tradition lives on.” She kissed his cheek, too sweet, but I caught the flicker of guilt in Nate’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Serena was across the hall with Dan, trying to convince him to come to the brunch with the Dartmouth rep.

“I don’t belong at some fancy brunch,” Dan said, shaking his head. “I barely survived that interview.”

“You did great,” Serena insisted, smiling that smile that could melt steel. “They liked you. And besides, you’ll be with me.”

Johnny nudged me, whispering, “She’s not letting him go.”

“Nope,” I said, grinning. “Kid’s hooked.”

Of course, Chuck wasn’t done schemin’. He leaned against the wall near Serena and Dan, sipping from a flask he’d pulled from his blazer pocket.

“Careful, Lonely Boy,” Chuck said, his tone slick. “You’re playing in the big leagues now. Don’t choke on your silver spoon, oh, wait. You don’t have one.”

Dan bristled, but Serena stepped between them.

“Ignore him,” Serena said. “He’s just jealous.”

Chuck smirked.

“Of what?” Chuck asked. “Having to buy my own clothes?”

“Of someone actually being genuine,” Serena snapped back.

For once, Chuck didn’t have a comeback. He just raised his flask in a mock toast and walked off, scarf swinging.

Phones buzzed then, like a bell in a fight. Another blast hit the air:

Spotted: N Archibald wins the Dartmouth usher crown. Legacy or pity prize? You decide. And looks like S isn’t done polishing Lonely Boy’s résumé; she’s getting him a brunch invite. As for Chuck Bass, scheming never takes a day off. Wonder what he’s cooking up now…

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda whistled.

“Man, that Gossip Girl doesn’t miss a beat,” Soda said.

Pony scribbled furiously in his notebook, probably takin’ down every detail like it was history in the makin’. Dally just snorted.

“The whole city runs on rumors,” Dally said. “Sooner or later, it’s gonna eat itself alive.”

Maybe he was right. But watching Blair drag Nate around like a trophy, Serena pulling Dan closer, and Chuck smirking from the shadows, I knew one thing: Ivy Week wasn’t about schools at all. It was about power.

And these Upper East Siders? They played for keeps.

That night, the Ivy League mixer was more polished than any “dance” I’d ever been to. The ballroom looked like it’d been dipped in gold, chandeliers dripping light, waiters balancing trays of champagne, and the Dartmouth rep making the rounds like some kind of celebrity. Kids were dressed sharper than knives, talkin’ about internships and legacies like it was normal dinner conversation.

We came in together, me, Soda, Steve, Pony, Johnny, Dally, and Darry. We stood out, no doubt about it. Soda cleaned up nice, winking at half the Constance girls who passed. Steve tugged at his tie like it was strangling him. Johnny kept close to Pony, quiet but wide-eyed. Dally looked like he wanted to start a fight just for fun, and Darry? He looked like he was gonna bust a vein trying to keep us all in line.

“Remember,” Darry muttered, straightening his own jacket. “Keep your mouths clean. Keep your hands to yourselves. This isn’t a keg party.”

“Relax, Superman,” I said, flashing my best grin. “I’m just here for the free snacks.”

Serena floated into the room like she owned it, cream dress again, easy smile, and eyes scanning until they found Dan. She drifted straight to him, pulling him toward the Dartmouth rep. Dan looked like a deer in headlights, but he didn’t pull away.

Across the room, Blair had Nate stuck to her arm, playing perfect hostess. But the second Serena stepped near the rep, Blair’s smile tightened. She leaned close to Nate, loud enough for us to hear.

“Can you believe she’s here?” Blair asked. “Acting like she hasn’t been gone for a year, like she doesn’t have problems of her own?”

“Uh oh,” Soda muttered under his breath. “Drama incoming.”

Sure enough, Blair tried to exploit what she thought was Serena’s secret.

“You know,” Blair said sweetly to the Dartmouth rep, “not everyone can handle the pressure of the Upper East Side. Some people… need help.” Her eyes flicked to Serena, smug.

Serena froze, but only for a second. Then she squared her shoulders and went with it.

“That’s right,” Serena said calmly. “I needed help. And I got it. And now I’m back.”

Blair blinked, caught off guard. She hadn’t expected Serena to own it.

Right then, Serena’s younger brother Eric slipped through the crowd. He looked smaller than the rest of us, but sharp, his eyes carrying too much weight for a kid his age. He tugged Blair aside, his voice low but firm.

“It wasn’t Serena,” Eric whispered. “It was me. I was in treatment. Not Miami, like they said.”

Blair’s face faltered. For once, her armor cracked. She looked at Eric, really looked at him, and then back at Serena, who was across the room, holding her ground with the Dartmouth rep. Blair swallowed hard and nodded, guilt flickering across her features.

Eric slipped back to Serena, and she gave him a grateful smile, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Chuck Bass was scheming in the corner, swirling a glass of something stronger than soda. He leaned against the bar, watching Serena and Dan with that predator’s smirk.

“Guy’s like a rattlesnake,” Dally muttered beside me. “Just waitin’ to strike.”

“Yeah,” I said, munching on a fancy canapé I couldn’t pronounce, “but at least rattlesnakes warn you first.”

The Dartmouth rep eventually pulled Nate aside, shaking his hand, saying all the right things. But everyone in the room could see that Nate wasn’t into it. His eyes kept darting toward Serena and then back to Blair, guilt twisting him up. Chuck clapped him on the back, laughing loud enough for us to hear.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, Nathaniel,” Chuck said. “Your future’s about to crash and burn.”

Phones buzzed again — like clockwork.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST]

Ivy Week mixer: S owns up to her demons, or did she borrow them from someone else? B’s dagger misses the mark, and Lonely Boy’s résumé just got the Serena stamp of approval. As for Nate A, is he Dartmouth’s future… or just another Archibald disappointment? And our Tulsa boys? Looks like they’re enjoying the show, popcorn included.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda leaned in.

“We gotta get used to this,” Soda whispered. “Every move we make’s a headline.”

“Headlines, sure,” I said, laughing under my breath. “But I’m still stealing the silverware before we go.”

Darry groaned.

“Two-Bit…” Darry warned.

But I couldn’t help it. This was better than Saturday night TV back home. The Upper East Side was its own kind of brawl, and man, was it fun to watch.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Steve’s POV

Sunday morning in New York didn’t sound much different than Tulsa on paper, but the feel of it? Whole other world. Back home, you might wake up to the sound of Soda snoring, Two-Bit cracking jokes, and Darry already nagging about chores. Here, in Manhattan, it was car horns, heels clicking on sidewalks, and the buzz of a city that never took a breath.

We were barely settled into our new routine, and already the drama of this place had us running like hamsters on a wheel. Ivy Week was still buzzing in the air: Blair’s scheme, Serena holding her ground, Dan fumbling into her spotlight. And now? A fresh Sunday, which meant new trouble.

Phones started buzzing early. Pony checked his, frowning. Soda leaned over his shoulder, reading out loud:
GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Good morning, Upper East Siders. Still hungover from Ivy Week? Don’t worry, the hangover cure is here. Looks like S isn’t the only star of the Van Der Woodsen family. Little E is back in town, and back in the spotlight, thanks to a certain family photo op. And speaking of stars, rumor has it B’s stepping up as the face of her mother’s fashion line. Will it be haute couture… or a hot mess? Grab your front row seat.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

“Hot mess, huh?” Two-Bit laughed. “That’s my kinda girl.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, but even he cracked a small smile. Dally just smirked.

“Fashion line?” Dally asked. “This city finds drama in anything.”

But I caught Soda watching Pony, and Pony watching his phone like the words were burning holes in it. Guess none of us could deny it anymore, Gossip Girl had her claws in us, too.

Darry clapped his hands, pulling us back to reality.

“Alright, enough gawking,” Darry said. “We’ve got a week ahead of us. School, work, and staying out of trouble.”

Two-Bit raised an eyebrow.

“In this town?” Two-Bit scuffed. “Staying out of trouble’s impossible.”

And I had to admit, he wasn’t wrong.

By the time the week rolled on, the whole city was buzzing about Eleanor Waldorf’s new fashion line. To me, clothes were clothes; if they weren’t ripped, stained, or falling apart, that was good enough. But here? Dresses and ads were life and death.

We ended up tagging along with Jenny one afternoon after school. She was supposed to drop off some sketches to Eleanor’s office, and Pony figured it’d be “good writing material.” So there we were, a pack of greasers in leather and borrowed blazers, standing in a sleek studio that smelled like perfume and hairspray.

Blair was front and center, perched in a makeup chair, grinning like the world was finally giving her what she deserved. She’d landed the spot as the face of her mother’s line, and you could see it glowing off her.

“Mom, I’m ready,” Blair chirped as the stylists fussed over her. “I just know the reps are going to love this look.”

Eleanor smiled, distracted.

“Of course, darling. Just stay focused,” Elenaor said.

Soda leaned toward me.

“She’s actin’ like she’s about to win Miss America,” Soda whispered.

“Yeah,” I muttered back, “but Miss America doesn’t look like she’d claw your eyes out for blinkin’ wrong.”

Then Serena swept in, late, like always, but glowing in that effortless way that made people stop what they were doing. Even the photographers froze.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Serena said, shrugging out of her jacket. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

Blair’s smile twitched.

“Oh, Serena,” Blair said. “What are you doing here?”

“Mom asked me to stop by,” Serena explained, moving closer to Eleanor. “She thought maybe I could help out.”

Blair’s eyes darkened, but Eleanor just beamed.

“Yes! “ Elanor said with glee. “Serena has that… natural quality. Let’s just get a few shots of her alongside Blair, just for comparison.”

“Comparison?” Blair repeated, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

Johnny shifted uneasily beside me.

“This feels like it’s gonna go bad,” Johnny said nervously.

And it did. The second Serena stepped in front of the camera, the whole mood changed. The flashes popped faster, the crew perked up, and Eleanor clapped her hands.

“Beautiful, Serena!” Eleanor said. “Perfect! That’s exactly the look!”

Blair forced a laugh, posing stiffly beside her best friend. But every time the camera snapped, it was clear: the focus wasn’t on her anymore.

I folded my arms, leaning against the wall. “Damn. That’s cold.”

Two-Bit grinned. “Nah, it’s hilarious. Queen B just got dethroned by her own sidekick.”

The shoot went on, Blair trying harder and harder, standing taller, smiling wider, but nothing worked. Serena didn’t even have to try. It was like the camera loved her more.

When it finally wrapped, Blair’s face was pale. Eleanor hugged Serena tight, praising her over and over.

“You’re a natural,” Eleanor said. “We’ll definitely be using you for the campaign.”

“What about me?” Blair asked as her voice cracked.

Eleanor hesitated, then patted her shoulder like she was a kid.

“Of course, darling,” Elenaor said. “We’ll… find a place for you.”

Blair nodded, but I could see it in her eyes. She was shattered.

Phones started buzzing again. Pony checked his, reading it out loud so we could all hear:

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: B’s big break falling flat. Looks like Eleanor’s line has a new face, and it’s none other than S. Sorry, B, in fashion, only one girl can be on top. As for our Tulsa crew, witnesses to the fall of a queen. Did they just learn that in this city, loyalty’s always out of style?

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Dally laughed, low and sharp.

“This city’s brutal,” Dally said.

“Yeah,” I muttered, watching Blair storm out with her makeup half-done, “but I get the feeling she’s not gonna let this slide.”

And something told me he was right, Blair Waldorf didn’t lose gracefully.

The next day, things were still tense from the photoshoot. Blair had been cut down in her own mother’s studio, and Serena? She didn’t even mean to steal the spotlight, but she had anyway. I’d seen plenty of fights back home, but this wasn’t fists and blood; this was smiles sharpened like knives.

We weren’t supposed to be part of it, but somehow we got roped in again. Eleanor thought it’d be “cute” to use us greasers as props in the background of her campaign, “a nod to Americana,” she called it. So before I knew it, we were in front of cameras, too.

Darry looked miserable in the stiff jacket they shoved on him. Soda, on the other hand, was eating it up, posing, grinning, winking at the models. Pony kept fidgeting with his collar until Johnny whispered something to calm him down. Two-Bit pulled a Mickey Mouse pin out of his pocket and clipped it to the lapel until a stylist ripped it off.

“Relax,” Two-Bit said, chuckling. “I’m just giving it character.”

Me? I just stood where they told me, hands in my pockets, trying not to laugh when Dally struck a pose that was half serious, half mocking.

The photographers loved it.

“Yes!” They shouted. “Perfect! Edgy but authentic!”

By the end, we were all sweating under the lights, but Eleanor looked thrilled.

“These boys are perfect for the campaign!” Eleanor said. “They give it grit.”

Blair overheard, and the look on her face could’ve curdled milk. She’d already lost the spotlight to Serena, and now Eleanor was praising us too.

That night at the Waldorf party, everything boiled over. The house was packed, music playing softly and expensively, and people sipping champagne like it was water. Serena tried to talk to Blair, but Blair was done playing nice.

“You always do this,” Blair hissed, her voice low but sharp. “You walk back into town, and suddenly everything is about you. My mother, my friends, even my party.”

“Blair, I didn’t want this…” Serena started, but Blair cut her off.

“Save it,” Blair growled. “You should’ve stayed away.”

The room had gone quiet. Even we froze, watching from near the buffet table. Soda had a champagne glass in his hand, but he didn’t take a sip, he just kept staring like the whole thing was a car crash.
Pony scribbled something on a napkin, probably trying to catch the scene word for word. Johnny shifted closer to him, like he wanted to shield him from the tension.

Then Blair made her move. She grabbed Serena’s glass of champagne and held it high.

“To Serena van der Woodsen,” Blair said bitterly, “always stealing the show.”

The toast was fake-sweet, but the bite underneath made everyone flinch. Serena set her jaw, eyes shining, but she didn’t fight back.

That was the thing about this city, back home, this would’ve been a full-on brawl. Here, it was all words. And the cuts went deeper.

Before long, people started leaving, whispering as they went. Blair had humiliated Serena in front of half the Upper East Side, and she looked proud of it. Serena slipped out quietly, Dan trailing after her, protective as always.

Our phones buzzed, the familiar chime making the whole room tilt.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: B throwing shade at her own party. Looks like S isn’t the only model in the family, rumor has it Eleanor’s next campaign features some unexpected Tulsa faces. Grit chic? Or just another gimmick? Either way, B, maybe try smiling, it’s called fashion, sweetie.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit cackled, slapping me on the back.

“We’re famous now, Stevie boy,” Two-Bit said with a smirk. “Upper East Side models!”

“Great,” I muttered. “Just what I always wanted.”

Darry groaned, rubbing his face.

“This was supposed to be a fresh start,” Darry said. “Not… whatever this is.”

But Soda just grinned, tipping back his champagne glass.

“C’mon, Darry,” Soda said. “Admit it. We look good in print.”

Maybe he was right. But watching Blair glare at Serena across the room, I had a bad feeling.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The fallout from Eleanor’s photoshoot and Blair’s party didn’t just vanish overnight. By Monday morning, Gossip Girl was still roasting Blair for losing the spotlight, and the rest of the school smelled blood in the water.

On the subway to St. Jude’s, Pony was scribbling in his notebook again, muttering about “the fragility of status.” Johnny leaned over his shoulder, trying to read, but Pony swatted him off. Soda, meanwhile, was still riding high from seeing his face in print.

“Think they’ll send me a copy of the ad?” Soda asked, grinning. “I could frame it. Hang it right over my bed.”
Two-Bit snorted.

“Over your bed?” Two-Bit teased. “More like above the couch at the DX back home. You’ll never shut up about it.”

“Hey,” Soda said, elbowing him, “if you looked that good in a suit, you’d brag too.”

Dally smirked.

“Pretty boy’s got a point,” Dally teased.

Darry cut in before it got too loud.

“All of you, focus,” Darry ordered. “We’re here to study, not to end up on Gossip Girl again.”

But by the time we got to campus, it was already too late. Phones were buzzing left and right.
GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Good morning, Upper East Siders. Forget fashion week, tonight is game night. B’s throwing a sleepover, and let’s just say the invite list is tighter than a Chanel seam. Will the girls survive B’s royal treatment? Or will one wannabe’s dream of fitting in turn into a nightmare? XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda raised an eyebrow.

“Sleepover?” Soda asked. “What are they, twelve?”

Pony shook his head.

“Not in this world,” Pony said. “It’s a test. Blair’s pulling the strings.”

Johnny frowned.

“Test?” Johnny asked nervously. “For what?”

“Loyalty. Popularity. Survival,” Pony answered, eyes narrowing like he’d cracked the code.

And sure enough, in the courtyard, we saw Blair holding court again, her girls clustered around her. Jenny Humphrey hovered close, clutching her books tight, wide-eyed like she was desperate to be picked.

“Tonight,” Blair announced, voice sharp and sweet all at once, “we’re having a sleepover. Games, movies, secrets. The usual.” Her gaze slid to Jenny, deliberate. “And maybe a chance for some of you to prove yourselves.”

Jenny lit up, nodding fast.

“Yes, of course,” Jenny said eagerly. “I’d love to.”

Blair smiled, but it wasn’t warm. It was the kind of smile I’d seen before on guys about to start a fight, one that said she already knew she was gonna win.

Two-Bit whistled low.

“Man, glad I’m not on that invite list,” Two-Bit said.

“Yeah,” I muttered, watching Jenny practically vibrate with excitement. “But she is. And that girl has no idea what she’s walking into.”

The bell rang then, pulling us toward class, but I couldn’t shake it. Back in Tulsa, danger was knives and brass knuckles. Here, it was sleepovers and secrets. And honestly? This world felt scarier.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Dally’s POV

The halls of Constance and St. Jude’s were loud that morning, lockers slamming, kids laughing fake, and phones buzzing with whatever Gossip Girl blast had gone out before breakfast. I leaned against the lockers, chewing gum, watchin’ the circus like it was a sideshow.

Serena van der Woodsen drifted in, all long legs and smiles, heading straight for Jenny Humphrey. Kid looked like she’d just been handed the keys to the city.

“You’re like the little sister I’ve been looking for,” Serena said, looping her arm through Jenny’s. “I need answers, and I need them now.”

Jenny blinked, nervous but grinning.

“Answers?” Jenny asked.

“Dan is being very mysterious about our date tonight,” Serena explained. “Like, mysterious.”

Jenny laughed.

“He’s a mysterious guy,” Jenny teased. “Apparently.”

“I don’t even know where we’re going,” Serena went on, exasperated. “You’ve gotta give me a hint.”

Jenny shrugged.

“You don’t leave much room for surprises, Serena,” Jenny chided.

Serena groaned, flipping her hair.

“I don’t know how to dress for a surprise!” Serena protested.

Jenny’s grin widened.

“Wear jeans and a t-shirt,” Jenny said. “Humphrey men do casual Fridays every day.”

Behind them, Soda elbowed me.

“Sounds like Serena’s got it bad,” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Humphrey better not screw it up. A girl like that? She doesn’t stick around long.”

Serena’s phone buzzed then, and she lit up when she saw the name.

“Eric!” Serena said, answering quickly. “Hey, little brother.” She turned to Jenny. “Jenny says hi, by the way.”

On the other end, Eric laughed.

“She spilled about your date with Dan yet?” Eric asks.

Serena rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Not much,” Serena said. “But I’m working on her. So, are you ready to leave?”

Eric’s voice softened.

“Yeah,” Eric said. “My bag’s packed. Mom’s talking to the doctor now. I can’t wait to come home for the weekend.”

Serena’s face brightened, relief plain.

“That’s amazing,” Serena said. “I’ve missed you.”

Before she could say more, Blair Waldorf came striding down the hall, her minions trailing. She’d caught just enough of the conversation to twist the knife.

“Well, well,” Blair said smoothly. “Sounds like you’ve got an excuse to come to the sleepover after all.”

Serena stiffened, lowering her phone.

“Blair…” Serena said.

But Blair was already smiling that sharp, queen-bee smile, like the game was hers to win.

Two-Bit whistled low beside me.

“Yup,” Two-Bit said. “This is gonna end bloody.”

Pony scribbled something down in his notebook, already turning the moment into poetry. Johnny hovered close, frowning. Darry muttered under his breath about how we should keep our heads down, but Soda just leaned in, eyes wide with excitement.

Me? I just grinned around my gum. This Upper East Side world wasn’t knives and rumbles. It was secrets and schemes. And hell, if it weren’t the most entertaining fight I’d ever watched.

By the time night rolled around, we should’ve been sprawled on the couches back at the apartment, arguing over TV or hustling cards. Instead, we were in the Waldorfs’ penthouse, me, Soda, Pony, Johnny, Steve, Two-Bit, and even Darry, who looked about ready to blow a gasket.

Blair’s “legendary” sleepover had begun.

It wasn’t like the sleepovers we knew: greasy pizza, bad horror movies, passing out wherever. This was a production. Girls in silk pajamas. Platters of sushi and champagne bottles instead of root beer. Candles burning in expensive holders. Jenny sat right in the middle of it all, eyes big, looking like she’d won the golden ticket.

“How the hell did we get dragged into this?” Steve muttered.

“Jenny,” Soda whispered back, smirking. “Kid begged Blair to let her bring us.”

Johnny leaned against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets.

“She’s in way over her head,” Johnny said nervously.

He wasn’t wrong. Blair started right away with the “games.” First, it was truth or dare, but with questions sharp enough to draw blood. One girl dared to prank-call her boyfriend. Another had to drink straight champagne until she hiccupped. All the while, Blair’s eyes kept sliding to Jenny, waiting to push her buttons.

Finally, Blair turned her grin on the kid.

“Truth or dare, Little J?” Blair asked.

Jenny swallowed.

“Dare,” Jenny said.

Blair leaned back, dramatic.

“I dare you… to sneak into Eleanor’s closet and steal one of her Valentino scarves,” Blair said.

The girls squealed, egging her on. Jenny hesitated, but the pressure was too much. She nodded, standing.

Before she could move, Soda stepped in.

“Hey, that’s kinda harsh, don’t you think?” Soda asked.

Blair’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s just a game,” Blair said.

I could see Darry’s jaw clench from across the room, but he stayed put. We were guests.

Jenny crept off with two of Blair’s girls. When she came back holding the scarf, everyone cheered. Blair smiled, but it was a shark’s smile.

Next came the dare to kiss a boy. Blair’s gaze flicked toward us.

“How about one of our Tulsa visitors?” BLair teased, eyes locking on Two-Bit.

Two-Bit grinned widely.

“Any volunteers?” Two-Bit asked.

The girls giggled, and one of Blair’s minions leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. Two-Bit bowed like a showman, soaking up the attention.

“Great,” Darry muttered. “Just great.”

Things only spiraled from there, more dares, more schemes, Blair pushing Jenny further and further. By the time Serena showed up, slipping into the penthouse with that golden glow of hers, Jenny looked ready to crack.

“What’s going on?” Serena asked, eyes narrowing as she took in the scene.

“Sleepover games,” Blair said innocently. “You’re just in time.”

Serena crossed the room, putting a hand on Jenny’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Serena said.

Jenny looked between them, torn, desperate for Blair’s approval but clinging to Serena’s kindness.

The whole room went tense. Soda shifted uncomfortably, Johnny stared at the floor, Pony scribbled furiously in his notebook like he was recording history, and Darry looked ready to drag us all out the door.

I leaned back, arms crossed.

“Hell of a party,” I muttered.

Blair tried to turn the tables, but Serena shut her down, standing tall and calm.

“This isn’t about fun,” Blair said. “This is about humiliating her.”

For once, Blair didn’t have a snappy comeback.

Phones buzzed then, cutting through the silence. Another Gossip Girl blast.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: B’s sleepover games turning sour. Looks like Little J’s initiation comes with more than sushi and silk. But S swoops in to save the day, again. And our Tulsa boys? Front row seats to the meanest girls’ night on the Upper East Side.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.
Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Guess we just survived our first Upper East Side sleepover,” Two-Bit said.

“Yeah,” I muttered, glancing at Jenny’s pale face and Blair’s stormy one. “But some fights don’t end when the party does.”

By the time the masquerade rolled around, I thought I’d seen every kind of party the Upper East Side could throw. Turns out, I hadn’t seen nothin’.

Tulsa had costume parties sometimes, cheap masks, maybe a cowboy hat if someone was feeling fancy. But this? This was a whole other level. Chandeliers glittered above, the music pulsed, and everyone wore silk masks that probably cost more than my whole wardrobe.

We walked in as a pack: me, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit, Pony, Johnny, and Darry. Darry kept muttering about how he didn’t like us being here, but Soda was grinning like he’d been waiting all week. Two-Bit had snagged a mask with feathers, showing it off like it was a prize.

“Don’t you boys clean up nice,” a Constance girl teased as we passed.

Soda winked.

“Always,” Soda said.

I just smirked and lit a cigarette outside the ballroom doors until Darry swiped it out of my hand.

“Not here,” Darry snapped.

Inside, the drama was already brewing. Blair was front and center, dressed in black lace, holding court with her girls. Jenny trailed after her, desperate to keep up. I could see the kid’s eyes shining; she thought she belonged here now.

Blair leaned close, whispering loud enough for her minions to hear: “Tonight’s about secrets. And trust me, Jenny, you’ll want to keep mine.”

Jenny nodded, like she was signing a contract with the devil.

Meanwhile, Serena swept through the crowd, her mask glittering gold, looking like something out of a dream. Dan was there too, awkward in his suit, trying to spot her in the chaos. Gossip Girl had already blasted that Serena’s mystery date was the talk of the night, and everyone was buzzing.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Who’s hiding behind the mask? Tonight’s masquerade has more secrets than sequins. Will S’s mystery date be revealed? And can Little J survive her new role as B’s handmaiden, or will she lose her glass slipper before midnight?

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit laughed when he read it.

“Handmaiden?” Two-Bit asked. “Guess Jenny’s moving up in the world.”

“More like down,” Johnny muttered, watching Jenny carry Blair’s clutch like it was her job.

I leaned on the railing, eyes scanning the crowd.

“Kid’s getting pulled deeper,” I said. “She doesn’t even see it.”

The night spun out quickly, Blair scheming to expose Serena, Nate chasing after Serena in the wrong mask, and Dan stumbling into the right moment at the right time. The gang and I stuck close, trying not to get dragged into the crossfire, but it was like standing too close to a bonfire.

At one point, Blair snapped her fingers at Jenny

. “Go find Nate,” Blair said. “Tell him I need him. Now.”

Jenny hesitated, but she went, darting into the crowd. Pony frowned.

“She’s using her like a servant,” Pony said.

“Yeah,” I said, lighting another smoke on the balcony out of Darry’s line of sight. “And Jenny’s letting her.”

By the end of the night, Serena and Dan slipped out together, masks off, finally admitting what everyone already knew. Blair stood alone, her plan busted, her smile brittle. And Jenny? She was still at Blair’s side, clutching her bag, desperate to stay in her good graces.

Soda sighed.

“She’s in too deep,” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I muttered, blowing out smoke. “And once Blair’s done with her, she’ll chew her up and spit her out.”

Phones buzzed again as we left the ballroom.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Midnight at the masquerade: S finds her prince, B loses her crown, and Little J plays handmaiden to the queen. But fairytales don’t last forever, and when the masks come off, who’ll be left standing?
XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit laughed, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Told ya, Dal,” Two-Bit said. “This city’s better than TV.”

Maybe. But watching Jenny trail after Blair like a shadow, I had a bad feeling. Fairytales always ended one of two ways: happily ever after, or with someone bleeding.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Johnny’s POV

The masquerade was over, but the mess it left behind hung in the air thicker than cigarette smoke after a rumble.

We walked out of the ballroom in a pack, Soda bouncing on his heels like he’d just left a carnival, Two-Bit laughing loud at some joke only he found funny, Steve grumbling about his tie strangling him. Darry was stone-faced, steering us through the crowd. Dally lit up another smoke on the steps, earning a glare from Darry, which he ignored.

Me? I kept my eyes on Jenny Humphrey.

She trailed after Blair like a shadow, clutching her bag, her hair a little mussed from running errands all night. She didn’t look like a guest at a glamorous masquerade. She looked like somebody’s errand girl. And from the way Blair didn’t even glance at her as she swept out the door, I knew Jenny was starting to feel it too.

“Some party,” Soda muttered. “Masks, drama, and not one decent dance.”

“Depends who you ask,” Two-Bit said. “Looked like Lonely Boy finally got his Cinderella moment.”

He wasn’t wrong. Across the plaza, Serena and Dan slipped away together, masks off, laughing quietly like they’d just shared some secret no one else could touch. It wasn’t flashy or staged like Blair’s moves. It was… real.

Pony noticed it too. He scribbled something into his notebook, his eyes following Serena and Dan like he was writing their whole story down in his head.

“Don’t get too sappy, kid,” Steve said, nudging him. “It’s just a date.”

But it didn’t feel like just a date. Not the way Serena was looking at him, not the way Dan couldn’t stop smiling.

Meanwhile, Blair was fuming. You could see it in the sharp lines of her shoulders, the way her heels snapped against the pavement. She’d tried to play queen again tonight, but Serena had stolen the crown without even trying. And Jenny? Jenny was the pawn caught in the middle.

As we passed them, I heard Blair snap, “Don’t forget what we talked about, Jenny. Handmaidens don’t complain.”

Jenny nodded, but her eyes flicked down. She looked tired. Small.

I knew that look. It was the same one I used to see in the mirror when I was younger, running myself ragged trying to keep up in a world that didn’t want me.

“She’s in too deep,” I murmured.

Dally blew out a stream of smoke.

“Kid wants in with the queen bee, she’s gotta pay the price,” Dally said.

“Not fair,” I said quietly.

“Nothing’s fair,” Dally replied.

Phones buzzed again. Another Gossip Girl blast lit the night:

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Masks off, secrets out. S and Lonely Boy share a kiss that might just be the start of something real. Meanwhile, B loses another round, and Little J? Still carrying bags that aren’t hers. Careful, Jenny. Fairytales have a cost.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda let out a low whistle.

“Poor kid’s getting dragged, and she don’t even know it,” Soda said.

Darry put a hand on Pony’s shoulder, steering him toward the street.

“C’mon,” Darry said. “We’ve seen enough for one night.”

As we walked, I looked back once more, Serena and Dan disappearing into the city, Jenny still at Blair’s side, trying so hard to belong.

One couple was just beginning. The other? I wasn’t so sure.

And me? I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jenny was walking into something she wouldn’t be able to walk back out of.

A week later, we found ourselves somewhere I never thought we’d be, standing in a smoky, red-lit burlesque club with velvet curtains and chandeliers that looked like they belonged in an old movie. The music thumped low, bodies swayed under spotlights, and the whole room smelled like perfume and whiskey.

Soda whistled low.

“Now this is more like it,” Soda said.

Two-Bit grinned, tugging at his tie.

“Damn right,” Two-Bit said. “Tulsa never had anything like this.”

Darry shot them both a look sharp enough to cut steel.

“We shouldn’t even be here,” Darry muttered.

But there we were anyway, me, Pony, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit, Dally, and Darry, watching Chuck Bass lean back in his seat, eyes locked on one of the dancers on stage. He wasn’t grinning or cracking some crude joke. He was dead serious, studying her like she was more than just part of the show.

The lights flickered, the music swelled…

And then…rewind.

Two days earlier.

Chuck and Blair walked into the club together, the air buzzing like something about to break. Blair’s heels clicked across the polished floor as she took in the place, the velvet booths, the brass fixtures, the stage with its crimson curtains.

“You cannot be serious,” Blair said, her voice dripping with disbelief.

Chuck smirked, scarf hanging loose around his neck.

“Deadly serious,” Chuck said. “I want my father to invest.”

Blair scoffed, her eyes darting around the room.

“In this?” Blair asked, flabbergasted. “Chuck, it’s a strip club.”

Chuck’s grin widened.

“Burlesque, actually,” Chuck said. “It’s an art form.”

“Art form?” Blair repeated, folding her arms. “You think Bart Bass is going to put his money into tassels and fishnets?”

“Why not?” Chuck shrugged, strolling toward the stage. “It’s the future. New York nightlife is dying. This place is different. Unique. Seductive.”

I leaned back against the wall with the rest of the guys, watching the exchange.

Soda smirked.

“Guy’s got guts,” Soda said. “Pitching his old man a strip joint.”

Dally chuckled low, lighting a smoke.

“That’s Chuck Bass for you,” Dally said. “Doesn’t play small.”

Steve shook his head.

“Bet Blair thinks he’s lost it,” Steve said.

But the thing was, Blair didn’t leave. She stayed, following Chuck further into the club, her eyes curious despite herself.

And me? I couldn’t shake the feeling that for Chuck, this wasn’t just about business. There was something else here. Something about the way he stared at that stage like it held answers none of us could see.

The next morning, the city was already buzzing by the time we hit the gates at St. Jude’s and Constance. Darry peeled off toward the faculty entrance. Man had his work cut out for him, keeping us in line and holding down his new job. The rest of us, me, Soda, Pony, Two-Bit, Dally, and Steve, hung back by the steps, watching the circus that passed for a normal day here.

That’s when we saw Serena.

She didn’t hesitate, just walked right up to Dan in the middle of the courtyard and pulled him into a kiss. Long, slow, the kind that made half the student body stop in their tracks.

“Dang,” Soda muttered, grinning. “Way to go, Humphrey.”

A couple of kids passing by snickered, tossing, “Get a room!” their way. Some younger classmates even snapped photos on their phones, whispering like it was the hottest news since the moon landing.

When Serena finally pulled back, she smiled at Dan, brushing his arm.

“We should probably talk about… what this is,” Serena said. “You know. Our relationship.”

Dan blinked, flustered but happy.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Yeah, definitely.”

Soda elbowed me.

“Think they’ll survive Gossip Girl putting ‘em on blast again?” Soda asked.

I just shrugged.

“They don’t look like they care right now,” I said.

Before we could say more, Jenny hurried across the courtyard, running right into Nate Archibald. He caught her arm, looking serious.

“Jenny, we need to talk,” Nate said.

Jenny froze.

“About what?” Jenny asked.

“The masquerade ball,” Nate admitted, his voice low. “I… I thought you were Serena that night. And I said some things feelings I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean it. Not with you.”

Jenny swallowed, stiff.

“I don’t care,” Jenny said. “But other people might. Like my brother.”

Nate sighed, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a small box and handed it to her.

“Here,” Nate said. “Chocolate.”

Jenny looked down, confused.

“What?” Jenny asks.

“I know you care about being friends with Blair,” Nate said. “Dan’s with Serena, I’m with Blair. I just… I need your help, Jenny. Please. Promise me?”

Jenny hesitated, but before she could answer, Blair glided over and perched herself on the bench beside Nate.

“Promise what?” Blair asked, her tone sugary sweet but sharp beneath.

Nate straightened fast, handing the box to Blair.

“Promise to help me come up with a better apology than these,” Nate said. He cleared his throat.

“Blair, I’m sorry,” Nate said. “For taking you for granted.”

Blair’s eyes softened. She opened the box, inspecting the chocolates with a faint smile.

“That’s so sweet, Nate,” Blair said. Then her lips curved slyly. “But I prefer the gold collection.”

She kissed him on the cheek anyway, adding, “Thank you.”

Jenny started to slip away, but Blair called out.
“Hey, Cinderella,” Blair said.

Jenny froze, turning back. Blair held up a bracelet, the one Jenny had dropped at the ball.

“I hate secrets more than anything,” Blair said, her voice light but her eyes cutting. “And you know that. Friends don’t lie, Jenny. And we’re friends, right?”

Jenny nodded quickly.

“Right,” Jenny said.

Blair’s smile widened, satisfied, and she slipped the bracelet onto Jenny’s wrist before turning back to Nate.

Beside me, Two-Bit whistled low.

“Man,” Two-Bit said. “She’s got that kid on a leash already.”

Pony scribbled in his notebook again, his brow furrowed.
“It’s like a fairy tale, Pony said. “Only the villain’s the one with the glass slipper.”

Dally chuckled darkly.

“That’s the Upper East Side for you,” Dally said. “They make the rules, and the rest of us just watch.”

And that’s exactly what we did. Watched.

Because out here? Watching was safer than playing.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Johnny’s POV

The masquerade was over, but the mess it left behind hung in the air thicker than cigarette smoke after a rumble.

We walked out of the ballroom in a pack, Soda bouncing on his heels like he’d just left a carnival, Two-Bit laughing loud at some joke only he found funny, Steve grumbling about his tie strangling him. Darry was stone-faced, steering us through the crowd. Dally lit up another smoke on the steps, earning a glare from Darry, which he ignored.

Me? I kept my eyes on Jenny Humphrey.

She trailed after Blair like a shadow, clutching her bag, her hair a little mussed from running errands all night. She didn’t look like a guest at a glamorous masquerade. She looked like somebody’s errand girl. And from the way Blair didn’t even glance at her as she swept out the door, I knew Jenny was starting to feel it too.

“Some party,” Soda muttered. “Masks, drama, and not one decent dance.”

“Depends who you ask,” Two-Bit said. “Looked like Lonely Boy finally got his Cinderella moment.”

He wasn’t wrong. Across the plaza, Serena and Dan slipped away together, masks off, laughing quietly like they’d just shared some secret no one else could touch. It wasn’t flashy or staged like Blair’s moves. It was… real.

Pony noticed it too. He scribbled something into his notebook, his eyes following Serena and Dan like he was writing their whole story down in his head.

“Don’t get too sappy, kid,” Steve said, nudging him. “It’s just a date.”

But it didn’t feel like just a date. Not the way Serena was looking at him, not the way Dan couldn’t stop smiling.

Meanwhile, Blair was fuming. You could see it in the sharp lines of her shoulders, the way her heels snapped against the pavement. She’d tried to play queen again tonight, but Serena had stolen the crown without even trying. And Jenny? Jenny was the pawn caught in the middle.

As we passed them, I heard Blair snap, “Don’t forget what we talked about, Jenny. Handmaidens don’t complain.”

Jenny nodded, but her eyes flicked down. She looked tired. Small.

I knew that look. It was the same one I used to see in the mirror when I was younger, running myself ragged trying to keep up in a world that didn’t want me.

“She’s in too deep,” I murmured.

Dally blew out a stream of smoke.

“Kid wants in with the queen bee, she’s gotta pay the price,” Dally said.

“Not fair,” I said quietly.

“Nothing’s fair,” Dally replied.

Phones buzzed again. Another Gossip Girl blast lit the night:

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Masks off, secrets out. S and Lonely Boy share a kiss that might just be the start of something real. Meanwhile, B loses another round, and Little J? Still carrying bags that aren’t hers. Careful, Jenny. Fairytales have a cost.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda let out a low whistle.

“Poor kid’s getting dragged, and she don’t even know it,” Soda said.

Darry put a hand on Pony’s shoulder, steering him toward the street.

“C’mon,” Darry said. “We’ve seen enough for one night.”

As we walked, I looked back once more, Serena and Dan disappearing into the city, Jenny still at Blair’s side, trying so hard to belong.

One couple was just beginning. The other? I wasn’t so sure.

And me? I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jenny was walking into something she wouldn’t be able to walk back out of.

A week later, we found ourselves somewhere I never thought we’d be, standing in a smoky, red-lit burlesque club with velvet curtains and chandeliers that looked like they belonged in an old movie. The music thumped low, bodies swayed under spotlights, and the whole room smelled like perfume and whiskey.

Soda whistled low.

“Now this is more like it,” Soda said.

Two-Bit grinned, tugging at his tie.

“Damn right,” Two-Bit said. “Tulsa never had anything like this.”

Darry shot them both a look sharp enough to cut steel.

“We shouldn’t even be here,” Darry muttered.

But there we were anyway, me, Pony, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit, Dally, and Darry, watching Chuck Bass lean back in his seat, eyes locked on one of the dancers on stage. He wasn’t grinning or cracking some crude joke. He was dead serious, studying her like she was more than just part of the show.

The lights flickered, the music swelled…

And then…rewind.

Two days earlier.

Chuck and Blair walked into the club together, the air buzzing like something about to break. Blair’s heels clicked across the polished floor as she took in the place, the velvet booths, the brass fixtures, the stage with its crimson curtains.

“You cannot be serious,” Blair said, her voice dripping with disbelief.

Chuck smirked, scarf hanging loose around his neck.

“Deadly serious,” Chuck said. “I want my father to invest.”

Blair scoffed, her eyes darting around the room.

“In this?” Blair asked, flabbergasted. “Chuck, it’s a strip club.”

Chuck’s grin widened.

“Burlesque, actually,” Chuck said. “It’s an art form.”

“Art form?” Blair repeated, folding her arms. “You think Bart Bass is going to put his money into tassels and fishnets?”

“Why not?” Chuck shrugged, strolling toward the stage. “It’s the future. New York nightlife is dying. This place is different. Unique. Seductive.”

I leaned back against the wall with the rest of the guys, watching the exchange.

Soda smirked.

“Guy’s got guts,” Soda said. “Pitching his old man a strip joint.”

Dally chuckled low, lighting a smoke.

“That’s Chuck Bass for you,” Dally said. “Doesn’t play small.”

Steve shook his head.

“Bet Blair thinks he’s lost it,” Steve said.

But the thing was, Blair didn’t leave. She stayed, following Chuck further into the club, her eyes curious despite herself.

And me? I couldn’t shake the feeling that for Chuck, this wasn’t just about business. There was something else here. Something about the way he stared at that stage like it held answers none of us could see.

The next morning, the city was already buzzing by the time we hit the gates at St. Jude’s and Constance. Darry peeled off toward the faculty entrance. Man had his work cut out for him, keeping us in line and holding down his new job. The rest of us, me, Soda, Pony, Two-Bit, Dally, and Steve, hung back by the steps, watching the circus that passed for a normal day here.

That’s when we saw Serena.

She didn’t hesitate, just walked right up to Dan in the middle of the courtyard and pulled him into a kiss. Long, slow, the kind that made half the student body stop in their tracks.

“Dang,” Soda muttered, grinning. “Way to go, Humphrey.”

A couple of kids passing by snickered, tossing, “Get a room!” their way. Some younger classmates even snapped photos on their phones, whispering like it was the hottest news since the moon landing.

When Serena finally pulled back, she smiled at Dan, brushing his arm.

“We should probably talk about… what this is,” Serena said. “You know. Our relationship.”

Dan blinked, flustered but happy.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Yeah, definitely.”

Soda elbowed me.

“Think they’ll survive Gossip Girl putting ‘em on blast again?” Soda asked.

I just shrugged.

“They don’t look like they care right now,” I said.

Before we could say more, Jenny hurried across the courtyard, running right into Nate Archibald. He caught her arm, looking serious.

“Jenny, we need to talk,” Nate said.

Jenny froze.

“About what?” Jenny asked.

“The masquerade ball,” Nate admitted, his voice low. “I… I thought you were Serena that night. And I said some things feelings I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean it. Not with you.”

Jenny swallowed, stiff.

“I don’t care,” Jenny said. “But other people might. Like my brother.”

Nate sighed, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a small box and handed it to her.

“Here,” Nate said. “Chocolate.”

Jenny looked down, confused.

“What?” Jenny asks.

“I know you care about being friends with Blair,” Nate said. “Dan’s with Serena, I’m with Blair. I just… I need your help, Jenny. Please. Promise me?”

Jenny hesitated, but before she could answer, Blair glided over and perched herself on the bench beside Nate.

“Promise what?” Blair asked, her tone sugary sweet but sharp beneath.

Nate straightened fast, handing the box to Blair.

“Promise to help me come up with a better apology than these,” Nate said. He cleared his throat.

“Blair, I’m sorry,” Nate said. “For taking you for granted.”

Blair’s eyes softened. She opened the box, inspecting the chocolates with a faint smile.

“That’s so sweet, Nate,” Blair said. Then her lips curved slyly. “But I prefer the gold collection.”

She kissed him on the cheek anyway, adding, “Thank you.”

Jenny started to slip away, but Blair called out.
“Hey, Cinderella,” Blair said.

Jenny froze, turning back. Blair held up a bracelet, the one Jenny had dropped at the ball.

“I hate secrets more than anything,” Blair said, her voice light but her eyes cutting. “And you know that. Friends don’t lie, Jenny. And we’re friends, right?”

Jenny nodded quickly.

“Right,” Jenny said.

Blair’s smile widened, satisfied, and she slipped the bracelet onto Jenny’s wrist before turning back to Nate.

Beside me, Two-Bit whistled low.

“Man,” Two-Bit said. “She’s got that kid on a leash already.”

Pony scribbled in his notebook again, his brow furrowed.
“It’s like a fairy tale, Pony said. “Only the villain’s the one with the glass slipper.”

Dally chuckled darkly.

“That’s the Upper East Side for you,” Dally said. “They make the rules, and the rest of us just watch.”

And that’s exactly what we did. Watched.

Because out here? Watching was safer than playing.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Pony’s POV

It was one of those New York afternoons where the sun hit the stone steps just right, warm enough to make you forget for a second you were surrounded by marble, money, and gossip.

The whole gang was hanging by the courtyard fountain after lunch, Soda cracking jokes, Steve flipping a coin, Two-Bit trying to charm a passing group of Constance girls while Darry gave him the look that said Knock it off. Dally leaned against a railing with his sleeves rolled, smoke curling from the cigarette between his fingers. Johnny sat beside me, quiet, watching everyone the way he always did, like he was memorizing how they moved.

That’s when Serena and Blair came down the steps from the school entrance, their hair catching the light like it was part of the show. People glanced up; they always did when those two showed up together.

Blair was smiling, but there was that sharp edge to it she always had when she was getting nosy.

“So,” Blair said, lowering her voice just enough that the nearby girls leaned in to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping, “I heard it was… aggressive.”

Serena laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Dan has been surprisingly good at everything,” Serena said.

Soda nearly choked on his soda when he heard that.

“Whoa, did she just…?” Soda said.

Darry shot him a look.

“Don’t,” Darry said.

Blair tilted her head.

“Everything?” Blair asked.

Serena blinked, smiling.

“No,” Serena said. “But feel free to ask any personal questions.”

Blair leaned forward, unbothered.

“Did you two at least talk about it?” Blair asked.

“About what?” Serena teased, though she already knew.

“You know what,” Blair said. “Sex. It’s your first real boyfriend, Serena. In relationships, people talk about things.”

Serena sighed, glancing out at the street.

“I know,” Serena said. “But sometimes planning things… it ruins a good thing, you know?”

Blair gave her that knowing smirk.

“Oh, trust me, I would know,” Blair said. “As long as you’re not worried.”

“I’m not,” Serena said, brushing hair off her shoulder. Then she hesitated, lowering her voice. “But Dan might be. Is it possible for a guy to actually want to slow things down?”

Blair’s smile softened for once.

“Only the guys we like,” Blair said.

They both laughed at that, the kind of laugh that made it easy to forget every headline and blast that followed them.

Soda leaned over to me.

“Guess even rich girls talk about the same stuff as everyone else,” Soda whispered.

“Yeah,” I said, closing my notebook. “ Just louder, and on marble steps.”

Two-Bit chuckled.

“Think Gossip Girl’s listening right now?” Two-Bit asked.

Johnny tilted his head.

“She’s always listening,” Johnny said.

And sure enough, a few minutes later, everyone’s phones buzzed at once.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

S and B get chatty on the steps, trading secrets sweeter than Serena’s new romance. But when it comes to moving fast, maybe Lonely Boy isn’t racing to the finish line. Could he be slowing down… or pulling away?

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Dally snorted.

“Called it,” Dally said.

The girls on the steps started whispering, phones lighting up like fireflies. Serena groaned, showing Blair her screen. Blair just smiled, smug.

“Welcome to the Upper East Side,” Blair said.

And watching them from the bottom of the steps, I couldn’t help thinking, maybe the rest of us were just background noise in their world. But it sure was one hell of a show to watch.

By the time night hit, Manhattan looked like it was glowing, headlights bouncing off slick streets, skyscrapers shining like matchsticks in a glass box. The gang piled into a cab, Darry in the front seat pretending not to be nervous while Soda turned the ride into a concert, drumming on the back of the headrest.

We were heading to Chuck Bass’s latest scheme, Victrola. His burlesque club.

It was one of those things that sounded like a joke until you actually saw it. Red velvet curtains. Gold trim. A stage lit up like the inside of a dream. Girls with feather fans. Men in tuxes. The air smelled like expensive perfume, whiskey, and secrets.

Dally whistled low as we stepped inside.

“Now this is my kinda place,” Dally said.

Two-Bit gave him a grin. “You’d move in if they’d let you.”

Soda’s eyes went wide, laughing.

“Man, Darry’s gonna lose it,” Soda said.

“I heard that,” Darry said flatly, tugging at his tie. “You touch nothing.”

We found a spot near the bar, far enough from the main floor to watch but close enough to catch the whole show.

Chuck was at the center of it all, smirking in his usual Bass way, his hand resting on the back of Blair Waldorf’s chair. Blair looked like she didn’t belong in a place like this, pearls and perfection in a sea of lace and smoke, but the longer she stayed, the more she fit in.

“You can’t be serious,” Blair said, voice half laughter, half disbelief.

Chuck grinned.

“I’ve never been more serious,” Chuck said. “My father thinks I can’t handle business. I’m about to prove him wrong.”

Dally leaned closer to me.

“Kid’s got ambition,” Dally said. “Twisted, but ambition.”

I nodded.

“He’s got something to prove,” I said.

As the curtain lifted, a dancer took the stage, the crowd falling quiet. The music started — slow, sultry, old-fashioned jazz. Blair’s expression shifted. You could see it happen, that mix of shock, fascination, and the kind of thrill you don’t admit to anyone.

When the performance ended, she clapped softly, eyes still on the stage.

And Chuck? He wasn’t watching the dancer anymore. He was watching Blair.

The night carried on like a dream spun out of smoke. Serena and Dan showed up, hand in hand, wide-eyed and smiling like they’d just stumbled into a world they weren’t supposed to see.

Two-Bit elbowed Soda. “Look at those two. They’re about to get their own headline tomorrow.”

Soda laughed.

“Bet Gossip Girl’s fingers are already typing,” Soda said.

Meanwhile, over by the bar, Nate Archibald stormed in, angry, tense, looking like someone whose whole life had just been yanked out from under him. His dad, Howard Archibald, was there too, arguing in hushed but furious tones. We could only hear bits and pieces, but the gist was clear: something about money, lies, and a business that was crumbling fast.

“Man, even the rich get crushed under debt,” Steve muttered.

Darry crossed his arms.

“Money or not, that kid’s still got his old man to deal with,” Darry said.

Nate stormed out minutes later, his dad chasing after him. You could feel it, the perfect family image they’d built, cracking right there under the chandelier light.

The night only got stranger from there.

Blair stayed behind after most of the crowd cleared. The stage was empty, lights dimmed. Chuck leaned against the edge of the stage, talking low. We couldn’t hear every word, but we saw the way she laughed, real laughter this time, unguarded.

And then she kissed him.

Just like that, Blair Waldorf, the Upper East Side’s ice queen, was kissing Chuck Bass in the middle of his burlesque club while the red lights shimmered around them.

Soda’s mouth fell open.

“No way,” Soda said. “No way!”

Two-Bit started laughing.

“Didn’t see that coming!” Two-Bit said.

Dally smirked, flicking ash from his cigarette.

“I did,” Dally said.

Even Darry couldn’t hide the look of surprise, though he quickly cleared his throat.

“Alright, we’ve seen enough,” Darry said. “Let’s move.”

As we filed out, the city air hit cool against our faces. You could still hear the bass from inside the club thudding like a heartbeat.

Johnny walked beside me, quiet.

“You think people really fall for someone that quick?” Johnny asked.

I thought of Blair’s laugh, the way Chuck looked at her like he’d found something worth changing for, or maybe just worth ruining everything for.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I think they do.”

Our phones buzzed as we hit the corner. Another blast.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: Queen B shedding her pearls and her past, locking lips with the bad boy of Bass Industries. Looks like the real fireworks weren’t onstage at Victrola. Meanwhile, N’s family hits rock bottom.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda laughed, holding up his phone.

“Told ya,” Soda said. “She doesn’t sleep.”

Darry sighed, shaking his head.

“And I thought Tulsa was complicated,” Darry said.

As we walked back toward the glow of the city lights, I realized the truth: back home, our drama was about survival. Here, it was about reputation. But both kinds could kill you if you weren’t careful.

And somehow, I had a feeling we were just getting started.

New York looked colder that morning, gray sky, chill wind cutting through the Upper East Side like it was trying to scrape off the shine. You could feel it in the air: something was shifting.

We were on our way to school, me, Soda, Johnny, Dally, Steve, Two-Bit, and Darry, when we passed St. Cecilia’s, the old church a few blocks over from Constance. The doors were cracked open, light pouring through the stained glass like gold spilling over stone.

“Who goes to confession in the middle of the week?” Two-Bit muttered, peeking through the door.

Soda grinned.

“Probably somebody with a whole lot to confess,” Soda teased.

Inside, Blair Waldorf knelt in one of the confession booths, her posture perfect even when she thought nobody was watching. The place was so quiet you could hear her heels shift on the tile. The gang and I hovered near the back pews, half curious, half guilty.

“Y’all know this is wrong, right?” Darry whispered, but none of us moved.

Blair made the sign of the cross, her voice low but clear.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” Blair said.

Her words echoed off the marble walls, soft but sharp enough to cut.

“It has been… two weeks since my last confession.” BLair hesitated, swallowing hard. “Since then, I’ve… committed many acts of… indecency.”

Soda raised his eyebrows at me. I shushed him.

Blair took a shaky breath.

“I… kissed someone who wasn’t my boyfriend,” Blair said.

There was a pause. Then:

“I didn’t just kiss him,” Blair said.

Johnny’s eyes widened. Dally smirked but said nothing.

Blair’s voice trembled now.

“I… lost my virginity to him,” Blair said. “In the back of his limo.”

Two-Bit nearly choked, covering his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Darry’s glare could’ve frozen him solid.

But all I could do was stare. The words hung there in the air, heavy and strange. The kind of confession that didn’t belong in a church but in the whisper of an Upper East Side headline.

“I betrayed my boyfriend,” Blair went on quietly. “He was supposed to be my future. The perfect one. And now… I don’t know who I am.”

For a second, her voice cracked. The kind of crack you’d only hear if you weren’t used to her being vulnerable. Then Blair straightened her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” Blair whispered.

When she stood and left the booth, she wiped her eyes, chin lifted high again like she’d rebuilt her armor in ten seconds flat.

She didn’t see us, the gang watching from the far back, caught halfway between pity and disbelief.

Soda was the first to speak.

“Holy hell,” Soda said. “She’s got drama that makes us look boring.”

Johnny frowned.

“She looks… broken,” Johnny said.

Dally leaned against the pew.

“That’s what happens when you play with fire, kid,” Dally said.

Steve nodded.

“Still, can’t blame her for fallin’ for a guy like Bass,” Steve said. “He’s got that whole dangerous thing goin’ for him.”

Darry turned on him.

“You’re missing the point,” Darry said. “She’s just a kid, same as the rest of you. And she’s got no idea what she’s doing.”

I didn’t say anything. My head was still spinning with the way Blair’s voice shook when she said she didn’t know who she was.

Back in Tulsa, sin was something the priest told you to confess after a fight or a theft. Here? It was something tangled up in love, guilt, and the need to be perfect.

As we stepped out into the cold air again, a Gossip Girl blast went out, perfectly timed, like she’d been hiding in the shadows the whole time.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: Queen B lighting a candle and whispering sins sweeter than her birthday cake. Turns out the limo ride wasn’t just for show, looks like B’s all grown up. But with secrets this hot, can she keep her crown from melting?

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda let out a low whistle.

“There it is,” Soda said.

Darry sighed, rubbing his temples.

“This city’s gonna be the death of us,” Darry said.

And maybe he was right.

Because in the Upper East Side, nothing stayed secret for long. Not even what you whispered to God.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Soda’s POV

New York mornings were louder than any place I’d ever lived, taxis blaring, people shouting, coffee machines hissing like steam engines. I didn’t mind it, though. It had this kind of pulse to it, like the city was daring you to keep up.

Me, Darry, Pony, Dally, Johnny, Steve, and Two-Bit ducked into a coffee shop a few blocks from campus that morning after eavesdropping on Blair. The coffee shop was one of those cozy places with brick walls, chalkboard menus, and too many college kids pretending to write novels.

The second we stepped inside, Two-Bit nudged me hard in the ribs.

“Hey, Soda, look who it is,” Two-Bit said.

I followed his gaze, and there they were. Serena van der Woodsen and Dan Humphrey, sitting on a bench inside near the window, heads close together, whispering and laughing like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“Guess Lonely Boy’s doing alright for himself,” Steve muttered, smirking.

“Yeah,” I said, half-grinning. “Looks like he’s finally not so lonely.”

Serena leaned in and kissed Dan, quick at first, then not so quick. Dally whistled low, earning a glare from Darry.

“Real subtle,” Darry muttered.

We were about to grab a table when Pony froze, tugging on my sleeve.

“Isn’t that the girl from the park last week?” Pony asked.

I followed his finger. Behind the counter was a girl with a messy bun and tired eyes, scribbling orders and working the espresso machine like she’d been doing it for years. Vanessa Abrams.

Dan didn’t see her at first. He was too busy staring at Serena like she was the sun itself. But when Vanessa turned, caught sight of him, and froze mid-step, I knew things were about to get awkward.

Vanessa blinked.

“Dan?” Vanessa asked.

Dan looked up, eyes wide.

“Vanessa?” Dan asked.

Serena smiled politely, completely unaware.

“Hey,” Serena said. “You two know each other?”

“Uh…” Dan rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I forgot you worked here.”

Vanessa gave him a tight smile.

“Guess you did,” Vanessa said.

Dally grinned.

“Oh, this is good,” Dally said. “Awkward triangle stuff. My favorite.”

Darry shot him a look that could’ve curdled milk.

“Knock it off,” Darry warned.

Vanessa crossed her arms, leaning against the counter.

“So this is… Serena, right?” Vanessa asked.

Serena smiled warmly.

“Yeah,” Serena said. “You must be Vanessa. Dan’s talked about you.”

“That so?” Vanessa asked, eyebrow raised.

“Uh, yeah,” Dan stammered. “Vanessa’s, uh, one of my oldest friends.”

“Oldest?” Two-Bit muttered. “Looks like she’s about to turn coldest.”

Johnny elbowed him.

“Shut up,” Johnny whispered.

Vanessa nodded slowly.

“Well, I should probably get back to work,” Vanessa said.

The tension hung thick in the air as she turned away, pretending to wipe the counter that was already spotless.

Serena leaned toward Dan, lowering her voice.

“You okay?” Serena asked.

Dan sighed.

“Yeah. I just… didn’t expect to see her here,” Dan said.

I leaned against the counter, grinning at Pony.

“You think Gossip Girl’s gonna catch this one?” I asked.

Pony smirked.

“She probably already has,” Pony said.

And sure enough, a minute later, phones started buzzing all around the shop.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: S and Lonely Boy getting cozy over cappuccinos, but looks like they’ve got company. Could old flames make for fresh burns? Guess we’ll find out when the steam clears.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Serena groaned, burying her face in her hands. Dan muttered something under his breath about needing to throw his phone in the Hudson.

Darry sighed, shaking his head.

“You kids and your drama,” Darry said.

Dally chuckled.

“Says the guy who’s been working overtime to keep seven of us from ending up on that blog,” Dally said.

Johnny grinned faintly.

“Too late for that,” Johnny said.

I couldn’t help but laugh, because he was right. We were already part of the chaos now. Gossip Girl wasn’t just watching the Upper East Side anymore.

She had her eyes on Tulsa, too.

By the time we made it to school that morning, the wind had picked up, and the courtyard was full of students pretending not to care that they were freezing in designer coats.

Pony, Two-Bit, Steve, Dally, Johnny, and Darry were dragging our feet toward the front steps, coffee still warm in our hands, when I spotted Chuck Bass’s limo parked out front. The engine was idling, the window rolled down, and right there in front of it stood Blair Waldorf, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

We slowed down instinctively. The whole courtyard seemed to, actually. Blair and Chuck could hold an audience without even trying.

Chuck leaned halfway out the limo window, smirking that same lazy, smug grin that said he didn’t know how to take anything seriously.

“Come on, Blair,” Chuck said smoothly. “You don’t really want to pretend that never happened.”

Blair crossed her arms, jaw set tight.

“God himself said I have to avoid you,” Blair said.

Chuck chuckled.

“Pretty sure He’s still on my side,” Chuck said.

“The events that happened in the back of your limo,” Blair snapped, “never happened.”

Dally let out a low whistle under his breath.

“Oh, this is about that,” Dally said.

Two-Bit elbowed me.

“Told ya she’d regret it eventually,” Two-Bit said.

Blair turned on her heel, but Chuck called after her, voice teasing.

“It’s taped in my head!” Chuck said.

Blair didn’t even slow down.

“Then erase it!” Blair shouted.

Chuck’s smirk faltered for half a second.

“You’re disinviting me from your party tonight, aren’t you?” Chuck asked.

“Consider yourself uninvited,” Blair said over her shoulder, her voice like glass.

Chuck leaned back against the seat, lips curving.

“That hasn’t stopped me before,” Chuck said.

Blair shot him one last glare before walking off, and that’s when her gaze flicked toward us.

She hesitated for a second, sizing us up like she was already crafting a plan. Then, with that signature Waldorf smile that could slice through marble.

“You boys are coming to my party tonight,” Blair said.

Two-Bit blinked.

“Us?” Two-Bit asked, shocked.

“Yes, you,” Blair said. “You’ll bring… character.”

Steve grinned.

“That means free cake?” Steve asked.

Blair didn’t even blink.

“That means show up on time,” Blair said.

Then she was gone, her minions trailing after her in a cloud of perfume and designer scarves.

Johnny nudged me.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Johnny asked.

Dally smirked.

“Who cares?” Dally asked. “A free party’s a free party.”

Pony frowned.

“I don’t think it’s just a party,” Pony said. “It’s Blair. She’s got an angle.”

“Kid’s not wrong,” I said, watching Chuck’s limo pull away with a roar. “But hey, what’s life without a little danger?”

“Just what we need,” Darry groaned. “More drama and disaster.”

Right then, everyone’s phones buzzed at once. Another blast.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: Queen B trading in her limo lover for a set of Tulsa charmers. Chuck Bass, you’ve officially been benched. Looks like B’s birthday guest list just got a lot more interesting.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit burst out laughing.

“We made Gossip Girl again!” Two-Bit said. “Man, I’m startin’ to feel famous. You totally jinxed yourself there, Darry.”

“That’s the last thing we need,” Darry groaned.

But even Darry couldn’t hide a faint smile as we headed up the steps, the whole school buzzing around us.

For better or worse, the greasers from Tulsa were no longer outsiders here.

We were part of the story now.

By lunchtime, the school was humming with gossip louder than the bell. You could always tell when something big had hit; the hallways felt charged, like everyone knew a secret but didn’t know who’d spill it first.

We were sitting outside near the courtyard fountain, me, Pony, Two-Bit, Dally, Johnny, Steve, and Darry, trying to eat sandwiches Darry had packed, even though Two-Bit had already traded half his for a slice of some kid’s fancy bakery cake. It was great that the school allowed Darry to go on his lunch break.

That’s when Jenny Humphrey came bouncing up, her Constance uniform looking a little too polished and her grin a little too forced.

“Hey, guys,” Jenny said, voice chipper. “Guess what?”

Dally smirked.

“You finally ditched the Waldorf army?” Dally asked.

Jenny shook her head.

“No, my mom’s back in town,” Jenny said.

We all blinked. Pony was the first to speak.

“Your mom?” Pony asked.

“Yeah,” Jenny said, nodding quickly. “She came back from Hudson. Dad doesn’t know what to do. She wants to talk, and it’s just… going to be a lot.”

Two-Bit leaned back, stretching.

“So basically, you’re saying drama’s about to hit your house like a tornado,” Two-Bit said.

Jenny sighed.

“Pretty much,” Jenny said. “But at least it’ll take some of the heat off Blair and Serena for a change.”

Dally grinned.

“Don’t bet on it, kid,” Dally said. “Those two could start drama in an empty room.”

As if on cue, the doors to Constance swung open. Blair Waldorf stepped out onto the courtyard steps, trailed by her mother, Eleanor Waldorf, and the look on Eleanor’s face was enough to freeze the air.
She was waving a folded newspaper in one hand like it was a weapon.

“Blair Cornelia Waldorf!” Eleanor snapped.

Blair froze mid-step.

“Mother?” Blair asked.

Eleanor thrust the paper into her daughter’s hands, her tone icy.

“Would you care to explain this?” Eleanor asked.

We couldn’t help but inch closer. Dally and Two-Bit were smirking, but even Darry didn’t stop them this time.

Blair unfolded the paper, The New York Times. The front page headline read:

ARCHIBALD SCANDAL: CAPTAIN ACCUSED OF EMBEZZLEMENT

Johnny whistled low.

“Dang,” Johnny said. “That’s Nate’s dad, isn’t it?”

Blair’s eyes flicked over the article, her face draining of color.

“This… this isn’t true,” Blair stuttered.

Eleanor crossed her arms.

“It’s in The Times, Blair,” Elenaor said. “Of course it’s true.”

Blair swallowed, her voice brittle.

“He’s innocent,” Blair insisted. “There has to be some mistake.”

Eleanor sighed, shaking her head.

“You need to face reality,” Eleanor said. “This kind of scandal affects everyone, including you.”

“That’s not fair!” Blair snapped, voice trembling. “It’s not Nate’s fault!”

“She’s got more loyalty than half the people in this school,” Dally muttered under his breath.

Eleanor gave her daughter one of those looks that could silence a room.

“You’re hosting a party tonight,” Eleanor said. “I expect you to be composed. Not emotional.”

Blair blinked rapidly, trying to keep it together.
“Yes, Mother,” Blair said.

Eleanor nodded briskly and turned on her heel, disappearing back into the building.

The courtyard went silent for a second.

Blair stared down at the paper, her hands shaking slightly. Pony, beside me, looked like he wanted to say something, the same look he used to get when he saw someone at school back home getting pushed around.

Finally, Pony took a few steps forward, quiet but steady.

“Hey… It’s not your fault,” Pony said. “None of it is.”

Blair glanced up, startled, maybe not used to anyone outside her circle saying something like that. She gave the smallest nod before straightening her shoulders, folding the paper in half like she could press the truth right out of it.

“Thank you, Ponyboy,” Blair said softly, and then louder, forcing her composure back into place, “I have a party to prepare for. And apparently, I’ll need to make it unforgettable.”

She swept off toward the parking lot, head high again.

Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Man, I wouldn’t want to be at that party,” Two-Bit said.

Dally grinned.

“Good thing we’re invited,” Dally said.

Johnny nudged me.

“Think she’s gonna use it to distract herself?” Johnny asked.

“Wouldn’t you?” I said.

Then everyone’s phones buzzed at once. The familiar chime made the whole courtyard shift.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: Queen B’s perfect world is cracking faster than her smile. Daddy Archibald’s on the front page, and it looks like B’s birthday might just turn into a wake. But don’t worry, she’s got some new guests from out of town to keep things interesting.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Darry groaned, rubbing his temple.

“That woman has eyes everywhere,” Darry said.

Two-Bit snorted.

“And a front-row seat to our chaos,” Two-Bit said.

We started back toward class, but I glanced once more at the folded paper sitting on the bench, the headline still bold and sharp.

This city didn’t give anyone time to breathe, not even the ones born on top.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Darry’s POV

When Dan Humphrey invited us over to his loft, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Kid came off decent, respectful, grounded, but most of these Upper East Side types were all flash and no foundation. Still, Soda was eager, Two-Bit was already talking about waffles, and Pony said Dan’s family actually lived in Brooklyn, which meant maybe, just maybe, we’d meet people a little less polished.

We walked in, and right away, I could smell something good. Warm, sweet, like breakfast on a Sunday morning. Rufus Humphrey, Dan’s dad. was standing by the stove flipping waffles, while Jenny and their mom, Alison, sat at the table, passing raspberries and powdered sugar back and forth.

It was the kind of scene that made you homesick without meaning to.

Rufus looked up and smiled.

“You must be the crew I’ve been hearing about,” Rufus said. “I’m Rufus. Welcome to our humble home.”

“Thanks for having us,” I said, shaking his hand. “I’m Darrel Curtis. These are my brothers, Soda and Ponyboy, and our friends, Steve, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Dallas.”

Rufus nodded.

“Nice to meet you all,” Rufus said. “Grab a seat, there’s plenty.”

Soda’s eyes went straight to the plate of waffles.

“Sir, those look incredible,” Soda said.
Rufus laughed.

“Help yourself,” Rufus said. “The secret’s cinnamon and a little orange zest.”
Two-Bit was already reaching for the syrup before I could stop him.
“Man, you had me at cinnamon,” Two-Bit said.
Jenny smiled faintly, watching us like she wasn’t sure what to make of the whole group.

“So, Dan invited you guys to hang out?” Jenny asked.

“Yeah,” Pony said, sliding into a chair next to her. “We go to St. Jude’s now. Kind of new to the city.”

Alison set her coffee down, studying us kindly.

“That’s quite an adjustment, Tulsa, right?” Alison asked.

“Yup,” Soda said with a grin. “It’s different. Less skyscrapers. More pickup trucks.”

That earned a laugh from Rufus.

“I like you guys already,” Rufus said.

Dan came in from the kitchen, brushing his hands on a towel.

“Sorry about the mess,” Dan apologized. “Mom’s back, so we’re pretending to be civilized.”

Alison gave him a look, but she was smiling.

“Some of us don’t have to pretend,” Alison said.

Soda chuckled.

“I like her,” Soda said.

The whole thing was domestic in a way we hadn’t seen since Tulsa, loud, loving, with just enough sarcasm to feel real. It reminded me of the mornings before our parents died.

Rufus turned toward Alison.

“You know, I was thinking we could all go to the gallery later,” Rufusa said. “Maybe start fresh.”

Alison hesitated.

“We’ll see, Rufus,” Alison said. “One step at a time.”

There was a quiet moment, that kind of family silence that spoke volumes. You could feel the history there, the regret and the hope. It made even Dally look down, like he didn’t want to intrude on something private.

Dan cleared his throat.

“So, waffles?” Dan asked.

Two-Bit raised his fork.

“Best idea you’ve had all week, Humphrey,” Two-Bit said.

Johnny leaned over to Pony.

“Think Blair Waldorf ever eats waffles?” Johnny asked.

Pony smirked.

“Only if they’re gold-plated,” Pony said.

Everyone laughed, and even Rufus cracked up.

“You guys should stick around more often,” Rufus said. “The city could use some of your honesty.”

Before anyone could answer, phones buzzed. Serena’s name flashed across Dan’s screen, and he froze mid-bite.

“Uh… I’ll take this,” Dan muttered, standing up and heading for the window.

Jenny shot Soda a knowing look.

“Told you, he’s obsessed,” Jenny said.

Dally leaned back, grinning.

“Kid’s got it bad,” Dally said. “Happens to the best of us.”

I just smiled faintly, taking in the warmth of the room, the laughter, the smell of sugar and coffee, the way even chaos could feel like home when people cared about each other.

For a few minutes, sitting at that table, we weren’t greasers in a strange city.

We were just part of someone’s morning.

We ended up crossing paths with Serena and Blair again that afternoon outside Constance’s courtyard, one of those crisp New York days where the air bites, but the sunlight still feels like it’s trying to make peace with winter.

The girls were sitting on one of the stone benches, close enough that it looked serious. Blair had that look she always got when she was plotting something or working through a betrayal, calm on the surface, eyes sharp underneath. Serena looked softer, nervous even, twisting her scarf in her fingers.

We hung back near the fountain, not close enough to interrupt but close enough to overhear, which, around here, wasn’t exactly rude. Everyone eavesdropped on everyone.

“Apparently, I’m miffed at Dan,” Blair said dryly, flipping her hair back.

“Miffed?” Serena asked, amused.

“Dan told Vanessa that you two were going to do it,” Blair said.

Serena blinked.

“What?” Serena asked. “I told you that.
”
Blair nodded, exasperated.

“Yes, but the difference is, I’m a girl,” Blair protested.

Serena frowned.

“So is Vanessa,” Serena said.

Blair’s lips curled.

“Exactly,” Blair said. “That’s my point. Even if she wasn’t. When you get a boyfriend, you become the best friend. And the best friend becomes the second-best friend. That’s the way it has to be if the relationship is ever going to work.”

“Man, that’s cold,” Two-Bit whispered to me.

Soda elbowed him lightly.

“That’s just how girls are here, Two-Bit,” Soda said.

“Back home, they’d just fight it out and be done with it,” Dally said with a smirk.

Pony shot them both a glare.

“Would you two shut up?” Pony asked. “You’re gonna get us caught.”

Serena tilted her head, changing the subject.

“How’s Nate doing?” Serena asked. “I saw the story about his dad.”

The edge in Blair’s expression softened, just slightly.

“He’s... coping,” Blair said. “I told him to focus on his family today. Not to worry about me.”

Serena smiled.

“You’re such a good girlfriend,” Serena said.

Blair shrugged, but I could tell from her posture that she needed to hear it.

“Well, I try,” Blair said. “I told him he doesn’t have to come tonight. Only if he’s up to it.”

Serena leaned closer, warmth in her voice.

“I’ll pick you up, okay?” Serena said. “We can go to the party together. I really hope Nate can make it.”

Blair’s eyes flicked to the side, and that’s when she saw us.

Blair's smile snapped into place like it had been there all along.

“Speaking of parties…” Blair straightened, calling over, “Mr. Curtis! You and your… delightful entourage are still coming tonight, aren’t you?”

Dally grinned widely.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, princess,” Dally drawled.

Blair rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue.

“Good,” Blair said. “I need interesting people there, not just spoiled ones.”

“Glad to be the entertainment,” Two-Bit said, bowing dramatically.

Serena laughed, genuinely. “You guys might actually save the party.”

Soda smiled at that, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

“We’ll try to behave,” Soda said.

Blair gave him a look that said she doubted that very much.

“Just... try not to start any fights,” Blair said, tone half-joking but half-serious.

I crossed my arms.

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” I said.

Blair’s eyes glinted.

“We’ll see about that,” Blair said.

Blair turned back to Serena, linking arms with her.

“Come on, S,” Blair said. “We have preparations to make. And if you’re lucky, I might let you borrow a dress worthy of your… rustic entourage.”

Serena smirked.

“You love them,” Serena said.

“I love that they make Chuck nervous,” Blair shot back, tossing her hair as they started walking away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Two-Bit grinned.

“We’re makin’ a name for ourselves in this city, boys,” Two-Bit said.

Johnny rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, as the zoo exhibit,” Johnny said.

Dally chuckled.

“Hey, long as there’s free booze and fancy food, I don’t care what they call us,” Dally said.

Pony looked thoughtful.

“You really think Nate’s gonna show?” Pony asked. “He looked wrecked yesterday.”

I shrugged, hands in my jacket pockets.

“Guess we’ll find out tonight,” I said.

Because if there’s one thing I’d learned about Manhattan, and its golden kids, it’s that no one really stayed out of the spotlight for long.

And somehow, no matter how far from Tulsa we got, we kept finding our way right into the middle of it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Two-Bit’s POV

If New York was good for one thing, it was people-watching. You could sit anywhere, a park bench, a diner stool, even the back of a bus, and catch a dozen different lives colliding in one blink.

That morning, though, we didn’t have to go far. Nate Archibald was sitting on the front steps of his townhouse, earbuds in, zoning out like he was a million miles away from his perfect Upper East Side life.

I had to admit, the kid didn’t look like the usual prep crowd. His shoulders were slumped, his expression hollow, like somebody had drained the color out of him.

“Man looks like he’s been through it,” Steve muttered beside me.

“Guess that happens when your old man ends up on the front page,” Dally said, leaning against a parked car with that smirk that meant he’d been waiting to say it.

“Knock it off,” Darry warned him. “You don’t know what he’s dealing with.”

“Yeah, well, money doesn’t buy happiness,” I said, watching Nate thumb through his playlist like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Or common sense,” Dally shot back, earning a glare from Pony.

We didn’t have long to stand there before the front door opened and Mrs. Archibald, all pearls and posture, stepped out, her tone clipped and polite, the kind that could slice you up and still sound refined.

“Nathaniel,” she said sharply.

Nate pulled out one earbud.

“Yeah?” Nate said.

“Turn that off,” Mrs. Archibald said. “We need to talk.”

The guys all went quiet, even Dally. Something about that tone, we’d all heard it before, in one way or another. That sound of authority wrapped in disappointment.

Nate sighed, slipping the earbuds around his neck.

“Can it wait, Mom?” Nate asked, annoyed.

“Not when your girlfriend’s birthday is tonight,” Mrs. Archibald said. She handed him a small velvet box. “You should give Blair something special. Something meaningful.”

Nate blinked.

“Mom, this isn’t really the time…” Nate protested.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Archibald cut in. “You’ve been dating for years. You owe it to her, and to our family, to maintain appearances.”

Soda stepped forward, eyebrows raised.

“That’s a hell of a way to talk about a relationship,” Soda said.

Mrs. Archibald turned, startled, clearly just noticing us on the sidewalk.

“Oh,” Mrs. Archibald said. “You’re... Blair’s new friends?”

Darry stepped in smoothly, polite but firm.

“We’re just passing through, ma’am,” Darry said. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Mrs. Archibald’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Well, perhaps you boys should pass through a little faster,” Mrs. Archibald said.

“She’s a real peach,” Dally muttered under his breath, and I bit back a laugh.

Nate looked embarrassed, his jaw tight.

“Mom, seriously…” Nate said.

Mrs. Archibald wasn’t listening.

“Blair is a wonderful girl, Nathaniel,” Mrs. Archibald said. “She’s devoted, loyal, and exactly the kind of young woman you should want to be seen with. Given... recent events with your father, this relationship is more important than ever.”

Pony’s brows furrowed.

“That’s messed up,” Pony said. “She’s talking like Blair’s some kind of PR move.”

Johnny nodded quietly.

“Guess love works differently up here,” Johnny said.

Nate stood abruptly.

“Mom, can you not make this about Dad right now?” Nate asked.

Mrs. Archibald’s tone softened, but only slightly.

“I’m just saying, Nathaniel, you need to show her, and everyone else, that the Archibalds are still... solid,” Mrs. Archibald said.

Then she turned back toward the house, heels clicking against the stone steps.

Nate stayed sitting for a moment, staring down at the box in his hands like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Soda crouched next to him.

“You don’t gotta do what she says, man,” Soda said. “Not if your heart’s not in it.”

Nate let out a hollow laugh. ‘

“You ever try telling your mom no when she’s like that?” Nate asked.

Soda smiled faintly.

“Yeah,” Soda said. “Every week.”

That actually got Nate to crack a grin.

“You guys really don’t belong here,” Nate said.

“Nope,” I said, hands in my jacket pockets. “But that’s what makes us fun.”

Nate looked back at the house, then at the little box.

“Blair deserves something real,” Nate said. “Not a show.”

“Then give her that,” Darry said simply. “Forget what anyone else thinks.”

Nate nodded slowly, closing the box and slipping it into his pocket.

“Yeah,” Nate said. “Maybe you’re right.”

Nate stood, squaring his shoulders like a guy trying to hold himself together while the world fell apart.

As we started to walk away, Dally nudged me.

“Think that fancy birthday party’s gonna blow up?” Dally asked.

I grinned.

“With this crowd?” I said. “No question.”

Right then, our phones buzzed with a familiar chime.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: Golden Boy Archibald looking blue. Mommy dearest wants him to gift his Queen something shiny, but word on the street says his heart’s not in it. Careful, B, even diamonds can crack under pressure.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Darry shook his head with a sigh.

“This city doesn’t let anyone breathe, does it?” Darry said.

“Nope,” Dally said with a smirk. “That’s what makes it fun.”

We walked on, the sound of Nate’s music faint behind us, something low and sad, like a song you play when you’re trying not to think about what comes next.

And from where I stood, I figured we were all starting to learn: here, even the people with everything had something to lose.

Later that afternoon…

We never did belong in a world made of marble and money, but somehow, we’d gotten used to walking its edges, like alley cats in a jewelry store.

That afternoon, the school’s library was almost empty, sunlight slanting through tall windows, dust floating in the air like snow. Most of the Upper East Side crowd didn’t hang around here unless they had to. But Blair Waldorf did, apparently, even scheming queens needed Wi-Fi.

Me, Soda, Pony, Dally, Johnny, Steve, and Darry had ducked in to kill time before classes let out. Darry was flipping through a newspaper; Soda and Dally were arguing quietly about whether rich people even knew what dirt smelled like.

That’s when we spotted Blair at one of the computers in the corner. Her perfect posture, hair pinned just so, but the expression on her face was cracked, focused, and tense.

“Think she’s Googling Chuck Bass’s latest crimes?” Dally whispered.

Pony frowned.

“Dally,” Pony warned.

But when we got close enough to see the screen, even Dally shut up.

Blair had a dozen tabs open, all the same headline repeating itself in different fonts:

CAPTAIN ARCHIBALD UNDER INVESTIGATION FOR EMBEZZLEMENT

ARCHIBALD FAMILY FACES FINANCIAL AND LEGAL TROUBLE

INVESTORS FLEE FROM ARCHIBALD HOLDINGS

The light from the screen flickered across her face, and for once, she didn’t look like Queen B. She just looked like a girl trying to understand how everything she knew could fall apart overnight.

I leaned over to Steve.

“Man, she’s takin’ this hard,” I said.

Steve nodded quietly.

“You would too if your life was plastered on every screen in town,” Steve said.

Darry lowered his paper, watching Blair with that protective look he always got, the same one he used on Pony when things got bad at home.

“Give her space,” Darry murmured.

But before any of us could move, Blair’s phone buzzed against the desk. The caller ID flashed: Nate.

She hesitated, then answered.

“Hey,” Blair said softly, trying to sound steady.

We all looked at each other, unsure if we should turn away or not. But she didn’t seem to notice us anymore, just the voice on the other end.

“Blair, I saw the papers,” Nate said. His voice carried faintly, enough for us to catch pieces of it. “I’m sorry you had to find out like that.”

Blair blinked fast, staring at the articles again.

“It’s not your fault, Nate,” Blair said. None of this is.”

“Yeah, it is,” Nate said. “Everything’s falling apart, my dad, my mom, the company. And I’m just supposed to go to a party tonight like nothing’s wrong.”

“You don’t have to,” Blair said quickly. “Really, you shouldn’t. Just… focus on your family. That’s what I told you.”

There was a pause.

“I want to be there, Blair,” Nate said. “For you.”

Blair smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Then call me after dinner, okay?” Blair said.

“Yeah,” Nate said. “Okay.”

When she hung up, she stayed still for a second, staring down at the phone like she wanted it to say something more.

Soda stepped closer, his voice quiet.

“You okay?” Soda asked.

Blair turned sharply, startled.

“Oh,” Blair said. “I didn’t realize you were all…”

“Eavesdropping?” Dally said with a grin. “Nah. Just… standing nearby with really good hearing.”

Blair gave him a look that could’ve melted steel, but she didn’t seem mad, just tired.

“It’s fine,” Blair said, smoothing her hair. “It’s not exactly private news anymore.” She gestured to the computer screen. “Apparently, the entire world knows about the Archibald family’s finances.”

Pony frowned.

“That’s rough,” Pony said. “Back home, gossip spreads fast, but at least it doesn’t end up online.”

Blair tilted her head, considering that.

“You’re lucky, then,” Blair said.

Darry crossed his arms, calm but steady.

“You can’t fix his family, Blair,” Darry said. “But you can decide how you show up tonight.”

She looked up at him, surprised, like she wasn’t used to anyone giving her advice who wasn’t angling for something.

“Show up?” Blair asked.

“Yeah,” Darry said. “For yourself. Not for what everyone expects.”

For a moment, Blair just studied him, then nodded slowly.

“Maybe you’re right,” Blair said.

Steve leaned on the back of a chair.

“So that means we’re still invited to the big Waldorf birthday bash?” Steve asked.

Blair’s lips twitched into a tiny smile.

“Of course,” Blair said. “Someone has to keep Chuck Bass in line.”

Dally smirked.

“Lady, you just hired the wrong crew for that,” Dally said.

Blair laughed softly, a real laugh, the kind that didn’t sound rehearsed, and stood, closing her laptop.

“Well,” Blair said, gathering her things. “If tonight’s going to be a disaster, I might as well have witnesses.”

We watched her leave, head high, confidence reassembled like armor.

Soda looked after her, shaking his head.

“You gotta give her credit, she’s tougher than she looks,” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling faintly. “But this city? It’s tougher.”

Then Dally grinned, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Good thing we are too,” Dally said.

And for once, I believed him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Steve’s POV

The Brooklyn loft was quieter than I expected. No clatter of plates this time, no smell of waffles or chatter bouncing off the walls. Just the soft hum of traffic outside and the turning of a page.

Dan Humphrey sat at the kitchen table, a book open in his hands. The late morning light from the window spilled across the page, catching on his coffee cup and the half-finished scribbles in his notebook. It was one of those scenes that looked peaceful from far away, but up close, you could feel the tension simmering underneath.

Me, Soda, Pony, Two-Bit, Dally, Johnny, and Darry were supposed to meet him before heading to Blair’s party setup. Dan had said we could stop by and hang out for a bit, maybe talk about what was happening with Serena. But when we got there, he was already deep in thought, eyes scanning the same paragraph for the third time.

Two-Bit leaned close to me.

“Think he’s actually readin’ or just pretendin’ to avoid us?” Two-Bit whispered.

“Both,” I muttered.

Before we could say more, the front door opened.

“Dan?” The voice said.

The voice was soft, careful, the kind of careful that meant it didn’t belong there anymore.

Alison Humphrey stepped into the room, coat still on, hair pulled back in that slightly messy way that said she’d been rushing but didn’t want to show it. Dan looked up from his book, surprise flashing across his face before it hardened into something quieter.

“Mom,” Dan said.

She smiled like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to.

“Hey,” Alison said. “I didn’t know if you’d be here.”

“Where else would I be?” Dan said, setting his book down.

The gang and I froze where we stood, near the door. Darry gave me a look that said we should go, but Dally shook his head slightly; he wanted to see where this was going.

Alison glanced around the loft, her gaze landed on us for a second, polite but distracted.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had… company,” Alison said.

Darry nodded politely.

“We’ll stay out of the way, ma’am,” Darry said.

She smiled faintly before turning back to Dan.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Alison said.

Dan crossed his arms.

“You mean talk about whether you’re back for good or just visiting from Hudson?” Dan asked.

The words landed heavily. Soda winced a little.

Alison sighed.

“Dan…” Alison said.

“No, seriously,” Dan went on, voice sharper now. “You’ve been gone for almost a year. You left Dad and Jenny here. You left me. And now you just… show up?”

Alison looked down, her voice low.

“I needed time, Dan,” Alison said. “To figure out what I wanted.”

“Yeah,” Dan said bitterly. “With the neighbor guy.”

Johnny shifted on his feet, eyes wide. You didn’t have to be from Brooklyn to know how much that one hurt.

“I didn’t plan on falling for someone else,” Alison said, her tone soft but steady. “But things weren’t working here, and you know that.”

Dan shook his head.

“So what now?” Dan asked. “You just walk back in and pretend like everything’s fine?”

“Not fine,” Alison said quietly. “Just… better. I’m trying, Dan.”

Dan turned away, pacing. You could see it in his shoulders, the tension, the anger, the way his jaw clenched like he was holding back years of words.

“You don’t get to try when you left,” Dan said finally, voice trembling. “You don’t get to act like we can pick up where we left off.”

Alison’s expression softened, her voice breaking a little.

“I miss you,” Alison said. “I miss this.”

“That’s not enough,” Dan said.

Silence stretched between them, long and heavy.

Behind me, Soda shifted awkwardly.

“This is rough,” Soda whispered to Pony.

Pony nodded, eyes glued to the floor.

“Yeah,” Pony said. “Feels too real.”

Darry stepped forward, clearing his throat gently.

“We’ll head out, give you two spaces,” Darry said.

Dan looked up, finally remembering we were still there. His expression softened a little.

“Sorry, guys,” Dan said. “I didn’t mean to make this weird.”

“Don’t sweat it,” I said, forcing a half-grin. “We’re experts at weird family stuff.”

That got a faint smile from Alison.

“You boys seem… good for him,” Alison said.

“Sometimes,” Dally said dryly, and that earned a small laugh, the first bit of air to break the heaviness.

We slipped out the door a minute later, the sound of their voices fading behind us.

On the street, the cold air felt sharp, clean, like stepping out of a storm.

Two-Bit finally spoke up.

“Man, and I thought our families had drama,” Two-Bit said.

Dally smirked.

“Guess we ain’t the only ones livin’ in the wrong kind of soap opera,” Dally said.

But as we started down the block, I looked back once, up at that loft window, light still burning against the gray sky.

Money, city lights, fancy names, didn’t matter. Families cracked the same way everywhere. Sometimes it just took longer for the noise to reach the outside.

And judging by the way Dan had looked at his mom, that noise wasn’t done echoing yet.

By the time we left Dan’s loft, the city was humming the way it always did right before sunset, car horns, chatter, and that low hum of ambition that never shut up in New York. We were cutting through the park on the way back toward the Upper East Side when Soda spotted Chuck Bass’s limo parked halfway up the street.

“Yo,” Soda said, elbowing Pony. “Ain’t that the Bass-mobile?”

Dally smirked.

“Only guy in town who drives around like he owns the skyline,” Dally said.

Sure enough, Chuck was leaning against the side of his limo, coat collar up, that smug smirk glued to his face. Next to him stood Nate Archibald, hands shoved in his pockets, staring down at the pavement like he’d rather be anywhere else.

We slowed down near the corner, not close enough to be part of the conversation, but close enough to hear it. In Manhattan, people talked like no one else existed.

Chuck was the first to speak, his voice dripping with amusement.

“So… Mommy Dearest wants you to propose to Blair now?” Chuck drawled. “How delightfully old-fashioned.”

Nate sighed.

“It’s not a proposal, Chuck,” Nate said. “It’s just a ring. My mom says it’s symbolic. Something to show Blair things are still okay between us.”

Dally snorted quietly beside me.

“Yeah, ‘symbolic’... that’s rich-people code for ‘pretend we’re not fallin’ apart,’” Dally said.

Darry gave him a warning look, but even he couldn’t hide the smirk.

Chuck grinned, tilting his head.

“Ah, the Archibald family spin machine,” Chuck said. “Tell me, does the ring come with a note saying Sorry, my dad’s a felon?”

Nate shot him a glare.

“That’s not funny, man,” Nate said.

“Who’s laughing?” Chuck said, feigning innocence. “You think Blair’s going to care about a piece of jewelry? She wants a fairytale, Nate, and you’re giving her a nightmare with a side of scandal.”

Johnny frowned quietly.

“That’s rough,” Johnny murmured.

“Guy doesn’t know when to shut up,” Soda muttered.

Nate rubbed the back of his neck.

“She’s been through a lot, Chuck,” Nate said. “I just… I don’t want to let her down.”

Chuck pushed off the limo, stepping closer.

“You already did,” Chuck said. “We both did.”

That line hit like a gut punch, even from across the street. Pony and I exchanged a look; we didn’t need subtitles to know what that meant. Blair didn’t know the whole truth yet, but Chuck sure did.
For a second, the air between them got real heavy, all guilt and history and the kind of friendship that had gone sour at the edges.

Then Nate’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment. He pulled it out, checked the screen, and sighed.

“My mom again,” Nate said. “Probably wants to make sure I don’t forget the ring.”

Chuck’s smirk faded.

“You gonna do it?” Chuck asked.

“I don’t know,” Nate said honestly. “Blair deserves better than a pity present.”

That earned him a rare, genuine look from Chuck, almost respect.

“Then maybe don’t go tonight,” Chuck said, climbing into the limo. “Because if you show up empty-handed, she’ll never forgive you. And if you show up with that ring, you’ll never forgive yourself.”
He shut the door before Nate could answer.

The limo pulled away, leaving Nate standing there on the sidewalk, looking smaller than I’d ever seen him.

For a second, nobody said anything. Then Two-Bit whistled low.

“Man, that dude’s got problems money can’t fix,” Two-Bit said.

Dally shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Can’t buy peace of mind,” Dally said.

“Or trust,” Pony added softly.

Nate must’ve heard us because he glanced over, startled. His eyes widened slightly when he recognized us, the Tulsa gang, the outsiders from a whole different world. But instead of brushing us off, he let out a breath and gave a half-smile.

“You ever feel like everyone’s got your life planned out but you?” Nate asked.

Soda grinned faintly.

“Every day, man,” Soda said.

That got Nate to laugh, a short, tired laugh, but still real.

“Guess it’s not just me, then,” Nate said.

Darry nodded.

“Nope,” Darry said. “You just got fancier problems.”

Nate looked down at the ring box in his hand, small, shiny, expensive. It didn’t look like love. It looked like a burden.

“I don’t even know what to do with this,” Nate admitted.

Johnny shrugged.

“Maybe don’t do anything,” Johnny suggested. “Sometimes that’s the best choice.”

Nate looked at him, thoughtful, then pocketed the box.

“Yeah,” Nate said. “Maybe you’re right.”

Nate’s phone buzzed again. This time, he ignored it.

We started to walk off, leaving him standing there, watching the sunset creep across the buildings.

Pony glanced back once, his voice quiet.

“You think he’ll go to the party?” Pony asked.

Soda smirked.

“It’s Gossip Girl,” Soda said. “Everybody goes, even when they shouldn’t.”

Dally chuckled under his breath.

“Especially when they shouldn’t,” Dally said.

We turned the corner, the limo’s taillights fading behind us, and I couldn’t help but think how weird it was. Back home, we fought over territory, respect, and survival. Here? They fought over pride, secrets, and keeping up appearances.

Different worlds. Same kind of pain.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Dally’s POV

You could tell right away the Waldorfs didn’t throw regular parties; they threw events. The kind of thing that had staff in tuxedos, music that didn’t come off a jukebox, and girls dressed like they stepped out of fashion magazines.

And there we were, seven greasers from Tulsa standing in the middle of Manhattan glitter.

I tugged at the collar of the jacket Darry had made us all wear. Soda and Two-Bit had their sleeves rolled up, Johnny kept fiddling with his tie, and Steve kept muttering that he felt like he was gonna knock over a vase worth more than his car.

“Relax,” I told him, half-smirking. “You break somethin’, just flash that smile. These people’ll think it’s performance art.”

Pony elbowed me.

“Dally, can you not cause trouble for one night?” Pony asked.

“Kid, trouble’s what keeps things interesting,” I retorted.

Inside the Waldorf apartment, everything shimmered. Strings of white lights, silver decorations, and a cake that looked like it belonged in a museum. Eleanor Waldorf hovered by the caterers while Blair made her grand entrance, silk dress, perfect hair, that smile she used like armor.

“Happy birthday, Queen B,” Two-Bit muttered.

“Queen of what?” Johnny asked.

“Upper East Side,” Soda said. “Don’t you read those Gossip Girl posts?”

Johnny shrugged.

“Kinda hard to keep up with when I don’t even know half the people they talk about,” Johnny said.

We weren’t the only ones there, of course. Serena and Dan were by the buffet, Jenny hung near the gift table, trying not to look like she was sneaking food, and Nate Archibald, well, he looked like he’d swallowed a grenade and was waiting for it to go off.

Chuck Bass showed up late, as usual, with a grin that said he knew exactly how to make that happen.

Eleanor clinked a glass, smiling at Blair.

“To my daughter, beautiful, intelligent, and finally seventeen,” Eleanor said.

Everyone clapped. Blair looked radiant, but her eyes kept flicking between Nate and Chuck.

I could tell right then, the party wasn’t gonna stay polite.

When Nate finally approached her, Blair’s face softened a little. He handed her a small box, not big enough to surprise her, but big enough to mean something.

“It’s from my mom,” Nate said quietly. “She thought you’d want it.”

Blair opened it, her breath catching. Inside was a diamond ring.

Blair's voice came out low.

“Your mother thought I’d want it?” Blair asked.

Nate winced.

“She means well,” Nate said. “I… I wanted to be here.”

Blair smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Of course you did,” Balir said.

Soda leaned toward me.

“You can see that train crash from a mile away,” Soda whispered.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “And Bass over there’s the one laying the tracks.”

Sure enough, Chuck was watching from the corner, nursing a drink, that smug smirk never fading. He lifted his glass toward Blair, just enough for her to notice.

That’s when everything started to unravel.

Blair set her champagne down and walked right up to Chuck. You could feel the tension, like static before lightning.

“Enjoying yourself?” Blair asked.

Chuck’s grin widened.

“Immensely,” Chuck said. “You always know how to throw a memorable party, Waldorf.”

“Don’t call me that,” Blair said.

Chuck raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” Chuck said. “It’s your name. Unless you’d prefer something… more personal.”

I swear, you could hear the glass crack in her hand from how tight she was holding it.

“You think you can just smirk and it erases what happened?” Blair hissed.

Chuck leaned in slightly.

“Erase it?” Chuck asked. “No. Cherish it, maybe.”

“Do you like me or something?” Blair asked.

“Like you?” Chuck said. “I can’t forget it. It’s all I ever think about.

That was enough to get Soda, Steve, and me moving closer. Darry caught my arm before I could step in.

“Don’t,” Darry said quietly. “Not our fight.”

“Guy’s askin’ for it,” I muttered.

“He’s always askin’ for it,” Darry said. “Doesn’t mean you gotta give it.”

Nate must’ve seen the exchange because he came up behind Blair, touching her arm.

“Hey, let’s get some air, okay?” Nate said.

Chuck smirked.

“Yeah, Nate,” Chuck said. “Take her for another walk, maybe this time she won’t come back with me.”

Blair turned on him, voice sharp.

“You’re disgusting!” Blair called.

Chuck chuckled.

“And you’re unforgettable,” Chuck said.

Blair slapped him. The whole room froze.

Two-Bit whistled low.

“Guess this ain’t your average Sweet Seventeen,” Two-Bit said.

Serena hurried forward, trying to calm Blair, but she stormed off toward the balcony. Nate followed after her, and for a minute, everyone just stared.

Then, like clockwork - buzz-buzz-buzz.

Phones lit up across the room.

Gossip Girl:

Spotted: Birthday girl Blair W. serving more drama than dessert. Nate A. brings a diamond, but it’s Chuck B. who still sparkles in her eyes. Oh, and look who’s crashing the Waldorf bash: those leather-jacket transfers from Tulsa. Guess Manhattan’s newest bad boys are learning that in this city, gossip never sleeps.

Two-Bit read it out loud and groaned.

“Aw, great,” Two-Bit muttered. “We made the blog again.”

Soda grinned.

“We’re practically celebrities,” Soda teased.

“Speak for yourself,” Darry muttered. “We got work and school tomorrow.”

I just laughed.

“Hey, if they’re gonna talk, might as well give ’em somethin’ to talk about,” I said.

“Dally, don’t,” Pony warned.

But it was too late. I walked straight over to Chuck, who was adjusting his cufflinks like nothing had happened.

“Hey, Bass,” I said, stopping right in front of him. “Maybe you oughta learn when to shut up around a lady.”

Chuck looked me over, that smug expression still in place.

“And you are?” Chuck asked.

“Someone who doesn’t need a trust fund to know what respect looks like,” I said.

For a second, it looked like he might throw another smirk or a snide remark, but instead, he gave me a slow nod.

“Noted, Grease,” Chuck sneered.

“Good,” I said, stepping back. “Glad we understand each other.”

Darry exhaled in relief when I didn’t deck him.

Across the room, Serena was leading Blair out toward the hallway, murmuring comfort. Nate trailed behind, looking wrecked.

Johnny watched them go.

“You think she’ll forgive him?” Johnny asked.

Pony shook his head.

“Depends which one,” Pony said.

“Plus, it doesn’t help that Nate told Serena about what happened at the masquerade,” Pony said. “Jenny feels embarrassed about it. Nate told her it was fine.”

“Gossip Girl’s gonna have a field day,” Two-Bit muttered.

“She always does,” Steve replied.

And she did.

Before the night was over, another blast hit every phone in the room.

Gossip Girl:

Word from the Waldorf birthday bash: A kiss. A slap. A ring. A scandal. A secret shared. Whispers between Little J and Nate. And our Tulsa transplants are showing the Upper East Side what real loyalty looks like. Who knew chivalry wasn’t dead, just relocated?

You know you love me,

XOXO, Gossip Girl

We walked out into the chilly Manhattan night, the skyline gleaming like fire against the black sky. Blair’s party music still echoed faintly behind us, but it didn’t matter.

Soda slung an arm over Pony’s shoulders, laughing.

“Man, we just survived our first real Upper East Side brawl,” Soda said.

“Barely,” Darry muttered.

Johnny smiled.

“Hey, at least we got mentioned in the blast,” Johnny said.

I grinned, lighting a cigarette.

“Damn right,” I said. “Tulsa boys makin’ headlines, never thought I’d see the day.”

The city buzzed around us, too rich, too bright, too fast. But for one night, we’d played their game. And maybe, just maybe, we’d left a mark.

Little did we know that night, Rufus and Alison Humphry had their own romantic night. Serena shredded at Guitar Hero at the party. Vanessa also crashed the party. Also, Blair and Chuck later reunited in a bedroom where Chuck gave her a big diamond necklace.

No matter what time it is, NYC never sleeps. Gossip doesn’t either.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Johnny’s POV

Thanksgiving in Manhattan didn’t smell like home.

Back in Tulsa, the air would’ve been filled with smoke from old stoves, maybe the smell of burnt pie crusts, and somebody yelling that the turkey was too dry. Here, everything smelled expensive: cinnamon candles, roasted chestnuts from the street carts, and pastries that looked too perfect to eat.

Darry had insisted we all spend the day together, “family first,” he said, but then the Humphreys had invited us over. Rufus said there was plenty of food to go around, and Dan had that look like he wanted to show us what a “Brooklyn Thanksgiving” was all about.

So there we were, me, Dally, Soda, Pony, Steve, Two-Bit, and Darry, walking into the Humphrey loft carrying a pumpkin pie from a diner that Two-Bit swore was “homemade adjacent.”

“Hey, guys!” Serena greeted us with that bright smile that made the whole room lighter. She was sitting on the couch, legs tucked under her, helping Jenny fold napkins. Dan was beside her, trying not to look too proud that she was there.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Soda said with that easy grin that always worked on people.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Serena replied, beaming. “It’s the first one I actually remember in a long time.”

Pony raised an eyebrow.

“You forget your holidays or somethin’?” Pony asked.

Serena laughed softly.

“Let’s just say they used to be… blurrier,” Serena said.

That’s when Rufus came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Ah, you’re here!” Rufus said. “Perfect timing. The turkey’s almost done. Alison is finishing up some dessert.”

We sat down around the big wooden table, the Humphreys on one side, us spread across the other, a real mix of leather jackets and city sweaters.

“Did you know,” Rufus said, “that the first Thanksgiving story in this family doesn’t start with food, it starts with a near-death experience?”

Dan groaned.

“Dad, not that story again,” Dan said.

Soda leaned forward, intrigued.

“Now you gotta tell it,” Soda said.

Serena grinned, glancing at Dan.

“You mean the one where you saved a drunk girl from getting hit by a taxi?” Serena asked.

Dally raised an eyebrow.

“Now that’s a holiday story,” Dally said.

Dan sighed. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Two-Bit clapped him on the back. “Hero of the year, Humphrey.”

Rufus chuckled, pulling out a chair.

“It was a few years back,” Rufus said. “Thanksgiving Eve. Dan was walking home from a concert when he saw a blonde stumble into the street. Cab nearly clipped her. He ran out and pulled her out of the way.”

Serena smiled sheepishly. “

That blonde was me,” Serena said.
I blinked.

“Wait,” I said. “That’s how you two met?”

Dan nodded.

“Sort of,” Dan said. “I didn’t even know who she was back then.”

Soda grinned.

“Well, you do now,” Soda said. “Sounds like fate.”

Serena glanced at Dan with a small, almost shy smile.

“Yeah. Maybe it was,” Serena said.

The air warmed a little after that. Jenny passed around mashed potatoes, Darry helped Rufus carve the turkey, and even Dally seemed relaxed for once, sipping cider instead of whiskey.

Later that afternoon, while the city skyline turned gold, Serena mentioned that Blair was throwing a Thanksgiving dinner uptown.

“She’s excited,” Serena said. “Her dad’s flying in from Paris, first time since the divorce.”

“Blair’s the one with the fancy apartment, right?” Pony asked.

“Yeah,” Serena said softly. “It’s… complicated. Her mom and dad don’t exactly talk.”

“Sounds familiar,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

Soda gave me a look that was quiet, brotherly look that meant You okay?

I nodded.

Blair Waldorf might’ve had more money than all of us combined, but hearing Serena talk about her made me realize we weren’t so different. Parents who left, people trying to make things look perfect when everything was broken underneath.

The Humphreys were loud and warm, messy in the best way. You could feel love in the air, even when people didn’t say it outright. I caught Darry watching them, that thoughtful look in his eyes again, like he was trying to memorize what a real family holiday looked like.

Rufus raised his glass.

“To friends and new family, and to surviving New York City,” Rufus said as he looked at Alison.

We all clinked our glasses together, cider for us, wine for the adults.

“Cheers,” Serena said, smiling at Dan.

“Cheers,” he replied softly, and I could’ve sworn the whole room glowed for a second.

Then Two-Bit’s phone buzzed. He glanced down and groaned.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Can’t even eat pie without this chick talkin’ about us.”

He turned the screen so we could all see.

Gossip Girl Blast:

Thanksgiving on the Upper East Side: a day of food, family, and flashbacks.

S & Lonely Boy’s meet-cute revealed: A hero, a cab, and a little holiday destiny.

Meanwhile, word is the Tulsa crew has found a new family in Brooklyn.

From backstreets to brownstones, it looks like they’ve traded switchblades for sweet potatoes.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Dally barked a laugh.

“Guess we’re famous again,” Dally said.

Soda raised his fork, grinning.

“Hey, at least we’re part of history now,” Soda said.

Pony rolled his eyes but smiled anyway.

“Only in New York,” Pony said.

And as the laughter carried through the loft, the light bouncing off the windows, the city stretching far beyond, I realized something.

For the first time since Tulsa, Thanksgiving didn’t feel like a memory.

It felt like right now.

And for once, right now wasn’t so bad.

The afternoon light in Brooklyn had started to fade when Serena pulled her coat tighter and said she needed to check on Blair.

“She didn’t answer any of my messages,” Serean told Dan, sounding worried. “And I need to talk to her. About… something I saw.”

The room went quiet at that. Darry was helping Rufus clean up the dishes, Soda and Two-Bit were still arguing over who got the last piece of pie, and Pony was flipping through one of Jenny’s sketchbooks.

“What’d you see?” Soda asked, curious as ever.

Serena hesitated, then sighed.

“Blair,” Serena said. “With Chuck.”

The way she said it made even Dally glance up. He didn’t know much about Upper East Side drama, but everyone knew that wasn’t a good combination.

“You mean Bass?” Dally said. “That guy’s poison.”

Serena nodded.

“Yeah,” Serena said. “It was the night of her birthday party.”

“Guess her party really was a blast,” Two-Bit muttered, earning a glare from Darry.

Serena gave a small, nervous laugh, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I don’t think she knows what she’s doing,” Serena said. “She’s hurt, and Chuck’s… Chuck.”

Dan frowned, setting down his cup.

“You sure you wanna bring it up?” Dan asked. “Blair’s not exactly the forgiving type.”

“I have to,” Serena said quietly. “She’s my best friend.”

Later, after Serena left, she called Dan to tell him what happened. The gang was still hanging around the loft when she called, her voice echoing through the speakerphone as she talked fast, anxious, shaken, but trying to hold herself steady.

“I told Blair I saw her,” Serena said. “With Chuck. Outside the Palace. I just asked what she was doing.”

On the other end, we could hear muffled noise, Blair’s voice, sharp and defensive. Serena’s voice softened, retelling it.

“She said she doesn’t know,” Serena said. “That she doesn’t know what she was thinking.”

“She really said that?” Pony asked quietly.

Serena sighed.

“Yeah,” Serena said. “And then she told me not to tell anyone. Like it never happened.”

Dally leaned back against the counter.

“That’s the thing about secrets,” Dally said. “People only say that after it’s too late.”

“Chuck sure didn’t seem sorry,” Steve muttered.

“Blair’s not sorry either,” Serena said. “She’s just… scared. Her dad’s coming home, her mom’s a mess, Nate’s barely speaking to her, and now this…”

Dan rubbed the back of his neck.

“You’re caught in the middle again, huh?” Dana sked.

Serena gave a small, helpless laugh.

“Story of my life,” Serena said.

Soda leaned forward, elbows on the table.

“So what’re you gonna do?” Soda asked.

Serena was quiet for a long moment.

“What I always do,” Serena said. “Try to fix it before it gets worse.”

“That ever work?” Two-Bit asked.

“Sometimes,” Serena said softly. “Sometimes it just makes more mess.”

We all looked at each other, the gang from Tulsa, sitting in a Brooklyn loft listening to Manhattan secrets we barely understood, and somehow, it all still made sense. Because no matter where you were, people were just people. Trying to love, trying to hide, trying not to fall apart.

“Tell her the truth anyway,” Darry said finally, his voice steady. “Even if she gets mad. Real friends don’t let each other sink.”

“Thanks, Darry,” Serena said, with a crack in her voice.

The line went quiet after that, just the faint hum of city noise in the background.

Pony leaned back on the couch.

“You ever think maybe Gossip Girl doesn’t have to say anything?” Pony asked. “Everyone around here’s doing her job for her.”

Dally smirked.

“Yeah, but she gets better headlines,” Dally said.

And right on cue, every phone in the room buzzed at once.

Gossip Girl Blast:

Looks like S and B’s friendship is getting another test this Thanksgiving.

Secrets, guilt, and one unforgettable limo ride, care to confess, B?

Meanwhile, rumor has it Tulsa’s finest are catching every Upper East Side secret.

Careful, boys, you know what they say about curiosity.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Soda groaned.

“We can’t even have Thanksgiving without ending up in the blast,” Soda said.

Dally chuckled.

“Welcome to the big leagues, brother,” Dally said.

But Pony just stared out the window at the glittering skyline.

“If this is what being noticed feels like,” Pony said softly, “I kinda miss being invisible.”

And I couldn’t blame him.

Because somewhere across town, Blair Waldorf was hiding behind perfect smiles and silver spoons, pretending nothing had happened.

And somewhere else, Serena van der Woodsen was trying to fix what couldn’t be fixed.

And us?

We were just watching the cracks spread, wondering how long before they reached us, too.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Pony’s POV

Time-Jump backwards to before Thanksgiving.

It was one of those cold Manhattan mornings that smelled like roasted chestnuts and exhaust fumes, and for once, things were almost quiet. Almost.

Serena sat across from us at the kitchen table, stirring her coffee absentmindedly while Soda flipped pancakes on the stove and Two-Bit tried to convince Darry that syrup counted as a “fruit serving.” The holiday weekend had started calm enough, but you could feel the tension simmering underneath, the kind of quiet before everything went sideways.

“So, I guess you guys missed the memo that Blair and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms right now,” Serena said with a sigh.

Dally smirked from his spot, leaning against the counter.

“What’d you do this time, Blondie?” Dally asked. “Forget her royal decree?”

Serena let out a weak laugh.

“Something like that,” Serena said. “I might’ve mentioned I saw her with Chuck.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Even Soda stopped flipping pancakes.

“Whoa, wait,” Soda said. “That Chuck?”

Serena nodded, rubbing her forehead.

“Yeah,” Serena said. “And I said something to her about it. I didn’t mean to, she just looked so... lost. But apparently, that was enough to get us uninvited from Thanksgiving at the Waldorfs.”

Two-Bit whistled low. “Girl drops one truth bomb and gets herself exiled. Tough crowd.”

Serena smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s fine,” Serena said. “We’ll make our own Thanksgiving. Me, Mom, Eric…” She hesitated before adding, “and maybe you guys, if you’re not doing anything?”

Soda beamed.

“You kiddin’?” Soda said. “Free food? We’re in.”

Darry shot him a look.

“We’ll bring something, don’t just mooch,” Darry said.

Serena chuckled, a little more genuine this time.

“Then it’s settled,” Serena said.

That’s when she launched into the story.

The way Serena told it, it started earlier that morning. Lily, Serena, and Eric had gone down to the market to grab groceries. Apparently, Lily hadn’t set foot in a supermarket in years, which explained why she treated the produce section like a museum.

“She was holding up a turkey leg like it was a foreign object,” Serena said, laughing now. “Asking people if there was a ‘fresher model.’”

Dally barked out a laugh.

“Sounds like a Soc version of Darry,” Dally said.

Darry didn’t even glance up from his coffee.

“At least I know how to pick meat,” Darry said.

Serena grinned and went on.

“Eric and I were just trying to find stuff for stuffing, and she’s trailing behind with a basket full of champagne and truffle oil,” Serena said. “Then she looks at me and goes, ‘Serena, darling, do we really need yams?’”

Two-Bit slapped the table, howling.

“Tell me you told her yes just to watch her face!” Two-Bit said.

“Oh, I did,” Serena said, smirking. “She said they sounded ‘too rustic.’”

Soda leaned back in his chair, grinning.

“Man, I wish I’d seen that,” Soda said. “Bet she looked like she was about to faint.”

Johnny smiled quietly beside me.

“Sounds like she’s trying, though,” Johnny said.

Serena nodded.

“She is,” Serena said. “It’s just… weird. Every time she looks at me, I can tell she’s thinking about all the holidays we didn’t spend together.” Her voice softened. “I think she’s trying to make up for it.”

Darry crossed his arms.

“Families do that,” Darry said. “We screw up, then we try to fix it with food.”

“Yeah,” Steve muttered. “Only difference is, back home, we don’t have caviar on the table.”

The laughter that followed felt good, warm, easy, but I could tell Serena’s smile was still a little sad underneath.

Later, when we were cleaning up the dishes, Gossip Girl’s latest blast lit up someone’s phone on the counter.

Spotted: S and L playing Martha Stewart in the market. Champagne, truffles, and confusion over yams? Looks like Thanksgiving on the Upper East Side is shaping up to be a real feast… of secrets.

Careful, S. Even family dinners can turn into food fights.

XOXO - Gossip Girl

Soda groaned.

“Man, can’t even buy groceries without this chick narrating it,” Soda said.

“Welcome to New York,” Dally said, flicking his lighter open and shut. “Privacy’s a myth.”

Serena leaned on the counter, half-laughing, half-resigned.

“You get used to it,” Serena said. “Or at least you pretend to.”

I watched her for a second, the way she tried to brush it off, the way her eyes flicked toward the window like she wished she were anywhere else. For all her glitter and confidence, there was something fragile under it.

Maybe that’s why she fit in with us so well.

That night, when Serena headed home to help her mom cook, Soda tossed me his jacket.

“You ever think about how weird this is?” Soda asked. “Us. Here. Eating fancy food with Manhattan royalty.”

I smiled.

“Yeah,” I said. “But somehow, it feels normal now.”

Dally lit another cigarette and looked out at the skyline.

“Don’t get used to normal, kid,” Dally said. “In this city, it doesn’t last.”

He was right. Because if there was one thing I’d learned about the Upper East Side by now, it was that peace never lasted long, not when secrets were the main course.

And Thanksgiving? It was only just beginning.

If Manhattan had a sound on Thanksgiving afternoon, it’d be the clatter of crystal, the murmur of money, and the faint hum of people pretending everything was perfect.

We’d split up after lunch with Serena, she’d gone back to help her mom and brother finish dinner, and somehow Blair Waldorf had insisted we drop by her apartment to help with “setup.” Translation: she needed bodies to move furniture and a distraction from her nerves.

Dally complained the whole elevator ride up.

“Ain’t this the same chick who almost got Serena kicked outta her own dinner?” Dally asked.

“Yep,” Soda said cheerfully. “So smile and move the fancy plates.”

Darry just gave Dally that look, the kind that shut him up faster than a cop car’s siren.

When the elevator doors opened, it was like stepping into a magazine spread. The Waldorf apartment was glowing, with gold lights, white tablecloths, candles that smelled like some flower I couldn’t name. Blair stood in the middle of it all, perfectly dressed, perfectly composed, trying way too hard to look like she wasn’t breaking apart.

“Finally!” Blair said when she saw us. “Two-Bit, Steve, move the table two inches to the left. No, the other left. Pony, help with the napkins. Dally…”

“I’m not touchin’ the china,” Dally interrupted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “One wrong move and I’ll owe you a mansion.”

Blair gave him a look sharp enough to cut glass but said nothing. I think she knew arguing with Dally was a losing game.

Soda leaned toward her with a grin.

“You sure you don’t wanna sit down for a second?” Soda asked. “You’ve been runnin’ around like Darry before a social worker visit.”

“I can’t sit,” Blair said briskly, straightening the centerpiece for the fourth time. “My father’s plane is due any minute, and Mother’s threatening to burn the turkey again.”

Blair’s voice cracked a little on father, but she kept going, fussing with forks and candlelight as if she could hold herself together by rearranging silverware.

Two-Bit whistled.

“That’s a lotta pressure for dinner,” Two-Bit said.

Blair smoothed her dress.

“It has to be perfect,” Blair said. “It’s the first Thanksgiving since the divorce.”

Darry, quiet as ever, nodded.

“Guess that’s important to you,” Darry said.

“It’s important to all of us,” Blair said automatically, but her eyes betrayed her. You could tell she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

Then came the moment that cracked the surface.

Eleanor Waldorf swept in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a designer apron. Her lipstick was perfect, her smile tight.

“Blair, darling,” Eleanor said softly. “Can we talk for a moment?”

Blair froze mid-step. The way Eleanor said it, that soft, too-careful tone, made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“What is it?” Blair asked.

Eleanor hesitated, glancing toward the rest of us like we didn’t belong in the room.

“Maybe we should…” Eleanor started.

“No,” Blair cut her off, voice shaking. “Say it.”

Her mother sighed.

“Your father’s not coming,” Eleanor said.

The room went still. Even Dally stopped fidgeting.

Blair blinked once, twice, like she hadn’t heard it right.

“What?” Blair said.

“Something came up,” Eleanor said gently. “He couldn’t get a flight.”

“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?” Blair snapped. Her voice went high and brittle, like glass about to shatter. “He promised, Mother. You both promised.”

Eleanor tried to smile, but it fell flat.

“He feels terrible, sweetheart,” Eleanor said.

Blair’s jaw trembled, but she straightened her shoulders.

“Of course he does,” Blair said.

Soda took a small step forward, his usual grin gone.

“Hey… you okay?” Soda asked.

Blair blinked fast, forcing composure.

“Of course I’m okay,” Blair said, her tone all ice and poise. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Johnny and I exchanged a look, that same kind of hurt recognition we both knew too well. The kind that came from waiting on people who always had somewhere else to be.

Eleanor touched Blair’s arm.

“We’ll have a lovely dinner anyway,” Elenaor said. “Just us.”

Blair turned away, blinking hard.

“Lovely,” Blair said.

“Man, this is brutal,” Two-Bit whispered.

“Shut up,” Dally muttered, not cruel, just quiet. Even he knew better than to make light of this.

Darry stepped forward then, his voice calm but steady.

“Ma’am, if there’s anything we can do…” Darry said.

Eleanor looked surprised, then softened slightly.

“That’s very kind, but I think what Blair needs is… time,” Eleanor said.

But Blair didn’t wait for that. She was already walking out of the room, head high, eyes shiny.

Soda called softly after her.

“Hey, Blair…” Soda said.

Blair didn’t stop. Just tossed a quiet, “Thank you for helping,” over her shoulder and disappeared down the hall.

We all stood there for a minute, the gang from Tulsa surrounded by fine china, wilted flowers, and silence.

“Guess some things hurt the same no matter how rich you are,” Johnny finally said.

Darry nodded.

“That’s about right,” Darry said.

Soda let out a slow sigh. “Thanksgiving sure knows how to kick you in the gut, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly, looking toward the hallway where Blair had gone. “Even when everything looks perfect.”

And as the soft strains of classical music filled the room again, elegant, rehearsed, and hollow, I couldn’t help but think how strange it was. Back home, our holidays were messy and loud and poor, but at least they were real.

Here? Everything glittered… right up until it cracked.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

Soda’s POV

Thanksgiving morning in Manhattan felt different than it did back home. Back in Tulsa, it was all burnt toast, cold air, and Darry yelling for us to get the turkey out of the oven before it caught fire. Here, it smelled like money and marble floors, like the whole city was dressed up for dinner.

We were standing in the Van Der Woodsen suite, me, Pony, Darry, Dally, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Steve, and man, I’d never seen a hotel room so fancy. There were more pillows than there were people, a vase taller than Pony, and carpets that probably cost more than our house.

Lily Van Der Woodsen looked perfect as usual, sitting on the couch in silk pajamas that probably weren’t meant for sleeping. She was flipping through the room service menu, pretending she wasn’t staring at the clock.

Serena and Eric were running around packing up a few things to take over to Dan’s place for Thanksgiving. Serena was talking a mile a minute about pie flavors while Eric kept checking his phone, and all the while Lily kept this calm little smile on her face like nothing in the world could touch her.

But I’d seen that look before. When people were grieving, pretending everything was fine would make it true.

“Mom,” Serena said, turning to her, “you sure you don’t wanna come? There’s plenty of room at the Humphreys’.”

Lily waved her off.

“Darling, I’d only be in the way,” Lily said. “Besides, I don’t have an appetite.”

Two-Bit shot me a look like, yeah, right.

Dally snorted.

“Ain’t that a lie if I ever heard one,” Dally said.

Pony elbowed him in the ribs, but I couldn’t help grinning.

Lily raised an eyebrow at Dally but didn’t comment; she’d gotten used to our kind of blunt by now.

Serena frowned.

“Mom, it’s Thanksgiving,” Serena said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Lily said breezily, crossing her legs. “I’ll catch up on some reading, maybe watch a movie. You and Eric go have fun. Tell Rufus I said hello.”

Lily said it like she was talking about a stranger, not a man she used to love.

That’s when the knock came.

Room service.

A waiter rolled in a cart piled high with food, turkey, mashed potatoes, wine, and the whole spread. And Lily didn’t even flinch.

“Guess that appetite showed up early,” Steve whispered.

Darry shot him a warning glare, but even he had to hide a smirk.

Lily sat up a little straighter.

“Oh, this?” Lily said. “It’s just… a light snack.”

“Lady, that’s a full Thanksgiving parade,” Dally muttered.

Pony couldn’t help it; he laughed, and that broke the tension just enough that even Lily cracked a smile.

That’s when Dan showed up at the door.

He looked a little out of place, all flannel and earnestness in a room made of gold.

“Hey,” Dan said, smiling at Serena. “You guys ready?”

Serena nodded, but Lily stood, smoothing her robe.

“Daniel, thank you for the offer, but as I told Serena, I’ll stay here,” Lily said. “I don’t want to intrude.”

Dan frowned, glancing at the food cart.

“Right,” Dan said. “Because you’re obviously starving alone on purpose.”

The Tulsa gang all tried not to laugh, emphasis on tried.

“Kid’s got guts,” Two-Bit whispered.

Darry folded his arms.

“He’s not wrong,” Darry said.

Dan stepped farther into the room, his voice firm but kind. “Look, it’s Thanksgiving. You shouldn’t spend it by yourself. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

For a second, nobody said anything. Lily looked at him, really looked at him, and something in her expression softened.

Serena and Eric both smiled a little.

“Told ya, the kid’s stubborn,” Dally muttered.

Lily sighed, pretending to be exasperated but clearly relieved.

“You’re very persuasive, Daniel, Lily said. “Fine. I’ll come.”

Dan grinned.

“Great,” Dan said. “Let’s go before you change your mind.”

Serena laughed and threw her arms around him, and for a moment, the room felt lighter, like someone had opened a window.

As they headed out, I glanced at the half-eaten room service meal, steam still rising from the plates.

It looked too perfect, too quiet, like everything Lily tried to be.

“Guess even rich folks get lonely,” Johnny murmured.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Only difference is, they got fancier leftovers.”

Outside the hotel, the wind cut through our coats, and the city felt alive, cabs honking, steam rising, the smell of roasted nuts mixing with cold air. Serena linked her arm through Eric’s, laughing about something, and Dan walked beside Lily, who was pretending not to smile at him.

Dally shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

“If someone’d told me we’d be spending Thanksgiving with New York royalty, I’d have called ‘em crazy,” Dally muttered.

Darry chuckled.

“You’re still crazy,” Darry said.

“Yeah,” Two-Bit said. “But admit it, beats canned beans back home.”

We all laughed, even me, and for a moment it hit me: this was weird, and different, and somehow perfect.

Whether you were from Tulsa or the Upper East Side, Thanksgiving wasn’t about the food, or the table, or the money.

It was about who showed up and who didn’t.

And for once, everyone who mattered was here.

By the time we made it to the Humphreys’ loft in Brooklyn, the air smelled like cinnamon and roasted turkey, the kind of smell that hit deep, the kind that reminded me of home, even if this place couldn’t have been more different from our kitchen back in Tulsa.

Serena and Lily were a step ahead of us, coats fluttering as they climbed the narrow stairs. Eric trailed behind, carrying a pie. I followed with Pony, Two-Bit, Steve, Dally, Johnny, and Darry, a ragtag parade of leather, denim, and secondhand charm crashing into the art-and-acoustic world of Brooklyn chic.

Before we even knocked, the door opened.

“Serena!” Rufus grinned, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Lily.” Then his smile faltered just enough to give away the history there, not awkward exactly, just charged.

“Rufus,” Lily said, giving him that polished smile of hers. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Rufus looked past her, spotting us lined up in the hall.

“And, uh, wow… You brought reinforcements,” Rufus said.

“Yeah,” I said with a grin. “We’re kind of the bonus guests.”

“Or the sequel,” Two-Bit added, smirking.

Rufus chuckled.

“Well, the more the merrier,” Rufus said. “Come on in.”

Inside, the loft felt alive, warm light bouncing off brick walls, music playing low, Dan setting the table while Alison came out from the kitchen, flour on her hands and a smile that could light the room.
“Serena,” Alison said, her voice soft and surprised, “and Mrs. Van Der Woodsen. It’s been a long time.”

Lily’s eyes softened a little.

“It has, hasn’t it?” Lily asked.

Then Alison noticed us, the gang from Tulsa crowding her doorway.

“And who do we have here?” Alison asked.

Before anyone else could speak, Dally grinned.

“We’re with them,” Dally said.

“Bodyguards,” Two-Bit said at the same time.

I rolled my eyes.

“Ignore them,” I said. “We’re friends of Dan and Serena.”

Alison smiled.

“Well, welcome,” Alison said. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Johnny spoke up quietly.

“Ma’am, we’re always hungry,” Johnny said.

That got a laugh out of everyone, even Lily.

Darry handed her a pie dish.

“We brought something to help out,” Darry said.

“Oh, you didn’t have to…” Alison started, but Darry cut in gently.

“We did. Nobody likes showing up empty-handed.”

Something about the way he said it made Lily glance at him, maybe surprised that someone so straightforward could sound so… grounded.

Rufus stepped aside to let us in.

“Well, you’re all just in time,” Rufus said. “Food’s almost ready.”

The room felt easy, familiar, like stepping into a place where things didn’t have to be perfect to feel right.

Serena and Dan fell into an easy rhythm, setting out plates and glasses side by side. Eric helped with the silverware. Pony started chatting with Dan about writing, and I swear the kid lit up; he finally found someone who didn’t roll their eyes when he said he liked poetry.

Two-Bit and Dally, meanwhile, were in the corner arguing about whether the mashed potatoes needed more salt, uninvited commentary, but Alison didn’t seem to mind. She actually laughed.
“You two planning to cook next year?” Alison asked.

“Only if you like charcoal,” Two-Bit said.

“I like personality,” Alison replied.

That shut him right up.

Lily, standing off to the side, looked like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She’d taken off her coat but hadn’t sat down yet, hands folded, smile a little too tight.

Rufus noticed.

“You okay?” Rufus asked.

Lily nodded quickly.

“Of course,” Lily said. “This is… nice. Very… Brooklyn.”

Rufus grinned.

“Translation: smaller than you’re used to,” Rufus said.

Lily actually laughed at that, a real laugh, not the practiced society one.

“Maybe a little,” Lily said.

Darry leaned over to me.

“She’s loosening up,” Darry murmured.

“Yeah,” I said, watching Serena across the room with Dan. “Feels like everyone is.”

Dinner was chaos in the best way, too many voices, too little space, plates being passed over heads, and Dally somehow finding the sweet potatoes before anyone else.

Blair might’ve had the tablecloths and candlelight uptown, but down here, there was warmth. Laughter. Noise that didn’t sound fake.

At one point, Lily looked around, at Serena laughing beside Dan, Eric teasing Pony about his accent, even Dally cracking jokes with Rufus, and something in her expression softened, like she hadn’t realized she’d missed this.

“Thank you for letting us come,” Lily said quietly to Rufus.

Rufus smiled.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Rufus said. “It’s Thanksgiving. You’re supposed to be here.”

And for a second, just a second, the tension between them melted.

Two-Bit clinked his glass.

“To family, by blood or by luck,” Two-Bit said.

Everyone echoed the cheer.

Even Lily raised her glass.

As plates emptied and laughter filled the air, Gossip Girl’s newest blast buzzed on someone’s phone in the corner.

Spotted:

The Van Der Woodsens are trading caviar for cranberry sauce in Brooklyn.

Is this the start of a new tradition, or just another holiday miracle?

Either way, the guests from Tulsa sure know how to stir the pot.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Dally smirked.

“We’re famous again,” Dally said.

“Great,” Darry muttered. “Just what we need.”

But Serena only smiled, resting her head on Dan’s shoulder.

“You know, for once, I don’t even care,” Serena said.

And for the first time in a long time, none of us did either.

Because in that crowded loft, between laughter, warmth, and the smell of real food, it didn’t matter where you came from or what your last name was.

For one night, we were all just people.

And that was enough.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Darry’s POV

After dinner, the city felt quieter than usual. Cold air rolled off the East River, the kind that bit through your coat and carried the smell of salt and smoke.

Dan and his mom, Alison, had slipped out for a walk. The rest of us, me, Soda, Pony, Two-Bit, Steve, Dally, and Johnny, followed a few paces behind, not close enough to eavesdrop but near enough to make sure they were safe. Old habits die hard.

They stopped by the waterfront rail. Brooklyn lights shimmered on the water, and for a while, all you could hear was the wind and the low hum of traffic from the bridge. Alison finally spoke.

“It’s hard, you know,” Alison said quietly. “Coming back. Being here. Facing Rufus again.”

Dan shoved his hands in his pockets.

“He missed you,” Dan said. “Even if he’d never admit it.”

Alison smiled a little, eyes on the river.

“Maybe,” Alison said. “But it’s hard to compete with a ghost, and Lily Van Der Woodsen isn’t exactly subtle. She was his first love. That doesn’t just disappear.”

I felt Soda glance at me, like he expected I’d have something to say about that. I didn’t. Some things didn’t need an answer.

“You’re not supposed to compete,” Dan said softly. You’re supposed to come home.”

Alison blinked back tears.

“I’m trying, Dan,” Alison said.

From behind the pier post, Two-Bit whispered, “Kid’s smoother than I thought.”

Dally elbowed him.

“Shut it,” Dally said. “This ain’t about you.”

We stayed until their words faded into the sound of the waves, then quietly headed back toward the loft, giving them space to finish.

Back at the Humphrey apartment, the warmth hit us first: the smell of pie and leftover turkey, the sound of faint music still playing from the little radio on the counter. Rufus was sitting alone at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him gone cold. When we walked in, he looked up, surprised but not annoyed.

“She’s in Jenny’s room,” Rufus said before any of us asked. “Been hiding there the past half hour.”

“Who, Lily?” Soda asked.

Rufus nodded, half-smiling.

“Yeah,” Rufus said. “She said it felt safer than the living room.”

We exchanged looks. City folks sure had strange ways of dealing with emotions.

A moment later, Lily appeared in the doorway, smoothing her hair, trying to look composed.

“I suppose hiding was childish,” Lily admitted. “It’s just… awkward. Ever since you allowed me to walk through your front door.”

Rufus raised an eyebrow.

“Allowed?” Rufus asked in confusion. “You were the last person I thought would walk through my front door.”

That made Lily laugh softly, nervous but real.

“Fair enough,” Lily said.

Pony nudged me.

“They’re kind of like you and Soda when you argue,” Pony whispered.

“Difference is,” I muttered back, “we don’t wear designer clothes while doin’ it.”

Lily stepped further into the room, her voice gentler now.

“It’s strange being here,” Lily said. “Feels like the past ten years didn’t happen.”

Rufus stood, crossing his arms.

“They did,” Rufus said. “And some of them weren’t exactly easy.”

For a moment, silence settled. Then Lily sighed.

“You’ve done a wonderful job with Dan and Jenny,” Lily said. “I mean that.”

Rufus softened.

“Thanks,” Rufus said.

Two-Bit leaned against the counter.

“Anyone else feel like we’re watchin’ a soap opera?” Two-Bit whispered.

Dally smirked.

“A classy one,” Dally teased.

Soda shot them both a look, but even he was smiling.

Rufus glanced our way, amused.

“You guys want some coffee?” Rufus asked. “It’s cold, but it’s strong.”

“Sure,” I said, pulling out a chair. “Might as well stay awhile. No sense rushin’ home when the conversation’s this interesting.”

Lily chuckled again, shaking her head.

“You Tulsa boys are quite something,” Lily said.

“Yeah,” Soda said. “That’s what they keep tellin’ us.”

Outside, the night stretched on, the river reflecting city lights like broken glass. Inside, people who’d once been strangers sat together in the warmth, trying to figure out what came next.

And for all the noise, all the secrets, all the years between them, it didn’t feel like two worlds colliding anymore.

It just felt like people learning how to start over.

The air in the Humphrey loft had gone still, that heavy, quiet kind of still that comes before a storm.

Rufus was pacing near the kitchen counter, his coffee long forgotten. Lily sat on the edge of the couch, pretending to scroll through her phone but not fooling anyone. The rest of us, me, Soda, Pony, Two-Bit, Steve, Dally, and Johnny, tried to make ourselves useful, stacking dishes, straightening chairs, anything to keep from feeling like we were intruding.

Then the front door opened.

Dan and Alison walked in, the cold air following them. Alison’s hair was loose, her cheeks red from the wind, and the look in her eyes told me that the quiet part of their evening hadn’t lasted long.

“Hey,” Rufus said carefully. “You two have a good walk?”

Alison set her purse down, her tone already sharp.

“Oh, it was great,” Alison retorted. “Nothing like walking along the river while realizing your husband’s ex-girlfriend has been hiding in your daughter’s bedroom.”

“Oh boy,” Dally muttered under his breath.

Lily stood instantly, smoothing her hair.

“Alison, I wasn’t hiding…” Lily protested.

Alison cut her off.

“No, you were avoiding,” Alison said. “I get it. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s a little hard to avoid the fact that you’ve been making out with my husband at theme parties.”

Pony’s head snapped up, wide-eyed.

“Wait, what?” Pony said.

Two-Bit grinned.

“Now this got interesting,” Two-Bit said.

I shot them both a look that said shut up now.

Rufus took a breath, trying to stay calm.

“Okay, let’s all take it down a notch,” Rufus said. “Alison, you’re not overreacting…”

Alison laughed bitterly.

“Really?” Alison snorted.

“You’re just having,” Rufus said slowly, “a reaction that’s… above and beyond what’s appropriate.”

Soda winced.

“Oh, man,” Soda whispered to me. “He shouldn’t’ve said that.”

He was right.

Alison’s eyes flared.

“Above and beyond what’s appropriate?” Alison asked. “I’ve been killing myself trying to make up for what happened in Hudson. The distance, the mistakes, all of it.”

“Which is not an overreaction,” Rufus said quickly, lifting a hand. “I might add.”

Alison folded her arms.

“And then I find out that you and Lily are… making out at theme parties,” Alison repeated.

Lily straightened, visibly uncomfortable.

“It was hardly making out,” Lily said, her tone clipped. “And there’s an explanation.”

Rufus frowned.

“Lily…” Rufus started.

But before anyone could say more, the loft door opened again.

“Hey, we’re here!” Serena called cheerfully, stepping inside with Blair right behind her, both girls dressed to perfection, clutching shopping bags and smiles that froze the second they saw the room.
Serena blinked.

“Okay, wow,” Serena said. “What did we walk into?”

Blair’s eyes darted between Rufus, Alison, and Lily, then to us, seven Tulsa boys trying way too hard to look casual.

“I’m guessing this isn’t the after-dinner entertainment?” Blair said dryly.

“Better than a movie,” Two-Bit whispered, earning another elbow from me.

Serena frowned.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Serena asked.

Lily smiled too brightly.

“Nothing, darling,” Lily said. “Just… a bit of a misunderstanding.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Rufus muttered.

Alison crossed her arms, not letting it go.

“A misunderstanding?” Alison snorted. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Serena looked between them, uncomfortable.

“Maybe we should come back later…” Serena said.

“No, stay,” Lily said quickly, regaining that polished calm. “It’s fine. Really.”

Steve leaned toward Dally.

“If this is fine, I’d hate to see what bad looks like,” Steve said.

Dally snorted quietly.

“You and me both,” Dally said.

I could feel Soda tensing beside me, that same instinct he got when folks started fighting at home. It didn’t matter how rich these people were; an argument was an argument.

Alison finally turned to Rufus, voice quieter but still trembling.

“I thought coming home meant a fresh start,” Alison said. “But maybe I was wrong.”

Rufus rubbed the back of his neck.

“You’re not wrong,” Rufus said. “We’re just… figuring it out.”

For a long moment, nobody said anything. Then Blair cleared her throat delicately.

“Well, this has been… enlightening,” Blair said.

Two-Bit grinned.

“You've got no idea,” Two-Bit said with a chuckle.

Pony elbowed him again.

“You’re gonna get us kicked outta New York,” Pony whispered.

The silence that followed felt like an open wound, the kind that couldn’t be bandaged with polite smiles or fancy words.

Lily excused herself to “freshen up.” Serena followed her, and Blair muttered something about needing air.

When the door finally closed behind them, Rufus sat down at the table, shoulders slumped, and Alison stood by the window, looking out at the skyline.

I let out a slow breath.

“Well,” I said, breaking the quiet, “that could’ve gone worse.”

Soda laughed softly.

“How?” Soda asked.

I shrugged.

“Someone could’ve thrown the mashed potatoes,” I said.

That earned a tired chuckle from Rufus.

“You, Curtis boys, always know how to find the silver lining,” Rufus said.

“Part of the job,” I said, smiling just a little. “We’ve seen worse than dinner drama.”

He nodded.

“Yeah, I believe that,” Rufus said.

And as the sound of the city drifted through the window, car horns, laughter, life moving on, I thought about how strange it all was. Tulsa, New York, rich, poor, didn’t matter. Everyone was just trying to put broken pieces back together.

Some did it with coffee.

Some with apologies.

And some with mashed potatoes.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

Two-Bit’s POV

If there’s one thing I’ve learned since movin’ to New York, it’s that rich people drama doesn’t take holidays, it just changes rooms.

We were hangin’ out in the Humphrey loft the next morning, tryin’ to avoid the crossfire between Rufus, Alison, and Lily. The adults had been arguing since sunrise, voices bouncing between “emotional affair” this and “boundaries” that. Johnny and Pony looked like they’d rather face a rumble than another minute of it.

Me? I was just enjoyin’ the show.

Things weren’t much calmer where we were. Jenny had retreated to her room with Eric and Dan, and we could hear bits of their conversation drifting through the cracked door. Curiosity got the best of me, so I poked my head in.

“Y’all hidin’ from World War Humphrey down there?” I said, leaning on the doorframe.

Jenny was sitting cross-legged on her bed, Eric perched beside her, and Dan pacing like he’d just uncovered a government secret.

“Two-Bit, this is serious,” Dan said, running a hand through his hair. “We’re trying to figure out if there’s any chance we’re all related.”

I blinked.

“Related?” I asked. “Like, family related?”

Jenny sighed.

“Well, our dad dated Serena’s mom, so…” Jenny said.

Eric smirked.

“And now you’re freaking out that you’re gonna find out you’re my long-lost cousin,” Eric teased.

Dan pointed at him.

“Exactly,” Dan said.

Jenny rolled her eyes.

“Look at Eric’s roots,” Jenny said.

Eric frowned.

“What about my roots?” Eric asked.

Jenny grinned.

“Humphrey roots,” Jenny teased.

That cracked me up so hard I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Johnny, who’d followed me in, was grinning too, shaking his head.

“Kid’s got jokes,” Johnny murmured.

Before Dan could defend himself, the door opened, and Serena and Blair walked in. Serena was wide-eyed, hair perfect even when she was frazzled. Blair looked like she’d rather be anywhere else, but she couldn’t help being nosy.

“What’s going on?” Serena asked. “I can hear arguing from the kitchen from the street.”

Jenny looked at her and shrugged.

“Well… our dad dated your mom,” Jenny said.

Eric groaned.

“Ignore my roots,” Eric said.

Serena blinked.

“Wait,” Serena said, confused. “What?”

Blair stepped forward, scanning the room like she was looking for dirt to dish on.

“Do you know what’s really weird?” Blair said, finally. “There’s a garage door in the middle of your bedroom.”

I nearly choked laughing.

“She’s not wrong!” I said.

Jenny huffed.

“It’s a loft, Blair,” Jenny said.

Blair ignored her and walked over to the bed, picking up a doll.

“Is this… a Cabbage Patch Kid?” Blair asked.

Jenny snatched it back.

“Yes,” Jenny said. “His name’s Cedric.”

Blair smirked.

“Of course it is,” Blair said.

Dan groaned.

“This day just got a lot worse,” Dan said.

Serena crossed her arms.

“How serious were they?” Serena asked. “Our parents?”

Dan hesitated, looking uncomfortable.

“Uh… I think it’s safe to say that they’ve… had sex,” Dan said.

Serena’s whole face scrunched up.

“Oh,” Serena said. “Ew.”

Soda, who’d wandered into the hallway beside me, snorted so loud we all jumped.

“Sorry!” Soda whispered. “Couldn’t help it. That was priceless.”

Jenny leaned back, clearly mortified.

“To repeat, we are not related,” Jenny said.

Dally piped up from the hallway.

“That’s one messed-up Thanksgiving tree,” Dally said.

Dan, ignoring him, rubbed his temples.

“Lily was a groupie of my dad’s band,” Dan said. “Rufus was almost famous.”

Blair laughed.

“This family seems so sane,” Blair said.

“Yeah,” I said. “By Upper East Side standards, maybe.”

Serena sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Can we just… escape?” Serena asked.

“Out the fire escape,” Jenny offered immediately, pulling open her window.

Blair raised a brow.

“How delightfully… bohemian,” Blair said.

Serena gave her a look.

“It’s an exit, Blair,” Serena said. “Not a runway.”

They started climbing out, Serena first, Blair after her, while Eric and Jenny followed, giggling under their breath. Dan hesitated, muttering something about insurance liability, before sighing and ducking out too.

Pony stared out after them.

“You think that’s safe?” Pony asked.

I grinned.

“Not a chance,” I said. “But it’s funny.”

In the living room, the arguing had only gotten louder.

Alison’s voice was sharp as crystal.

“So now emotional affairs are somehow better than physical ones?” Alison asked.

“I didn’t say better!” Rufus said. “I said different!”

Alison folded her arms.

“They’re both betrayals, Rufus!” Alison argued.

Darry rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“If this gets any louder, I’m callin’ the fire department,” Darry muttered.

Soda leaned against the fridge, still chuckling.

“You gotta admit, though… this is top-tier entertainment,” Soda said.

Dally grinned.

“Only in New York,” Dally said. “People fight about feelings instead of fists.”

Johnny frowned.

“Hurts worse sometimes,” Johnny said.

He wasn’t wrong.

I walked to the window, glancing out just in time to see Serena and Blair scrambling down the fire escape, Serena laughing, Blair muttering something about her shoes.

“They’re gone,” I said, smirking. “Escaped the warzone.”

Pony joined me, watching them disappear into the street.

“Think they’ll come back?” Pony asked.

“Nah,” I said, grinning wider. “They’re smart. They’re runnin’ before someone throws mashed potatoes again.”

Behind us, the grown-ups were still at it, words slicing sharper than any blade. But for the first time, it didn’t bother me.

Because in this crazy, mixed-up city, the Humphreys, the Van Der Woodsens, and we greasers were all stuck in the same storm, just different kinds of thunder.

And honestly?

Watching rich people drama unfold was a hell of a lot easier than livin’ our own.

If there’s one thing I learned about Manhattan after a few weeks, it’s that no matter how fancy the people are, everyone ends up in a diner eventually.

After the fire escape, the gang, Serena, Blair, Jenny, Dan, and Eric, had ended up at a little corner café downtown, the kind with fogged-up windows and a neon sign that flickered like it was hanging on for dear life.

We followed right behind, ‘cause, well, free food and drama were our two favorite things.

Serena grabbed a booth big enough for all of them, sliding in next to Dan. Blair sat across from them, immediately sanitizing the table with a napkin like the place had germs with a social life.

Soda, Pony, and I took the next booth over. Dally and Steve pulled up chairs, and Johnny sat beside me, quiet like always, but his eyes were sharp; he didn’t miss a thing. Darry stood near the counter, arms crossed, doing that “dad keeping the peace” stance he’d mastered years ago.

Dan leaned back in his seat, rubbing his temple.

“So, my dad’s been giving me advice lately,” Dan said.

Jenny looked up from her milkshake.

“Advice on what?” Jenny asked.

“Dating,” Dan said. “Apparently, from his experience of dating a girl just like Serena.”

Jenny blinked.

“You mean… Serena’s mom?” Jenny asked.

Blair’s eyes went wide, and then her lips curled into a grin.

“Oh my God, that makes so much sense,” Blair said.

Serena frowned.

“Blair,” Serena said.

Blair leaned forward, smirking.

“No, really,” Blair said. “Only a woman who’d sexually satisfied herself in her youth would ever marry your stepdad.”

I nearly choked on my coffee. Pony’s eyes bugged out. Dally just laughed, low and sharp.

“She doesn’t hold back, huh?” Dally said.

Serena groaned.

“Can we please talk about something else?” Serena asked.

Dan sighed.

“Yeah,” Dan agreed. “And maybe get away from the word ‘satisfied.’”

Jenny wrinkled her nose.

“Gross, Dan,” Jenny said.

From our booth, Soda snorted so hard he almost spilled his drink.

“She’s not wrong,” Soda said.

“Quiet,” Darry said, though even he looked like he was trying not to laugh.

Just as things were starting to calm down, the door jingled, and in walked Lily Van Der Woodsen herself, heels clicking, coat immaculate, looking like she’d just stepped out of a magazine shoot and into the wrong ZIP code.

“Hi, Mom,” Serena said, half-surprised, half-exasperated.

Lily smiled faintly.

“Hello, darling,” Lily said.

Eric tilted his head.

“Everything okay?” Eric asked.

“Yes,” Lily said, sliding gracefully into the booth beside them. “Everything’s fine.”

Serena frowned.

“You sure?” Serena asked. “We can call a car, take you home.”

Lily waved her hand.

“No, not yet,” Lily said. “I need fries.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Dally barked out a laugh.

“Now that’s a mood I understand,” Dally said.

Lily looked over at him with mild amusement.

“At least someone appreciates honesty,” Lily said.

Lily waved to the waitress.

“I’ll have fries,” Lily said. “And keep them coming, please.”

The waitress, who looked like she’d seen it all, just nodded.

“You got it,” The waitress said.

Dan stood, glancing at Jenny.

“We should probably head back to the loft before my parents start round two,” Dan said.

Jenny groaned.

“Yeah,” Jenny said. “Don’t want front-row seats to that.”

Blair dabbed at her lipstick with a napkin and stood, smoothing her dress.

“I’ll go too. Serena…” Blair paused, softening for once, “...thank you. For today.”

Serena smiled.

“You sure you’re okay?” Serena asked.

Blair hesitated, then nodded.

“Yeah,” Blair said. “I will be.”

Blair left, heels clicking out the door, her usual armor back in place.

Dan and Jenny followed, the bell over the door jingling behind them. That left Serena, Eric, Lily, and us, still hanging back like uninvited extras in someone else’s family movie.

The fries arrived, hot and golden, steam rising. Lily took one, then another, the tension finally fading from her face.

“You know,” Lily said, “I forgot how comforting diner food could be.”

“Cheaper than therapy,” Soda said under his breath.

Lily smirked.

“And probably more effective,” Lily said.

Serena laughed, leaning her head on her hand.

“You doing okay, Mom?” Serena asked.

“I am,” Lily said softly. “I think… for the first time today.”

Eric grinned.

“Told you fries fix everything,” Eric said.

Johnny smiled faintly.

“Kid’s right about that one,” Johnny said.

We sat there a while longer, the hum of the city outside, the smell of grease and coffee, the clink of forks and glasses. Serena and her mom talked quietly about nothing, fries, work, Christmas decorations, and for once, it felt like there weren’t any secrets hanging in the air.

Just a family trying to breathe again.

Darry finally stood, stretching.

“Alright, boys,” Darry said. “Let’s give ‘em their space.”

Soda looked over his shoulder at the Van Der Woodsens.

“They’ll be fine,” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I said, tossing a couple of bills on the counter for the coffee. “Everyone’s just tryin’ to figure it out. Same as us.”

As we stepped out into the cool night, I looked back through the window, Lily laughing at something Serena said, Eric stealing another fry.

And for a moment, Manhattan didn’t feel like such a foreign place after all.

Whether you’re from the Upper East Side or the east side of Tulsa, sometimes the only thing that brings people back together… is a plate of fries and a little forgiveness.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

Steve’s POV

The city air was sharp when we stepped out of the diner, the kind that bit your nose but felt clean after a night full of emotions and greasy fries. The lights from the café glowed behind us, and for a second, it felt like everyone, even the Van Der Woodsens, had caught their breath again.

Dan walked Blair to the curb, holding the cab door open for her like he was born on the Upper East Side instead of Brooklyn.

“See you later, Waldorf,” Dan said, a small smirk on his face.

Blair smiled, really smiled, and got into the cab. It pulled away, the taillights fading into the blur of the city.

Dan turned back to Jenny.

“So, uh, today was not boring,” Dan said.

Jenny snorted.

“No,” Jenny said. “I never should’ve asked Mom to come home.” Jenny looked down at her shoes. “But I didn’t see this coming.”

Dan shrugged.

“Who could’ve?” Dan asked. “Don’t worry about it.”

They started walking, the gang following a few paces behind. Pony had his hands in his coat pockets, quiet, watching the way the city lights hit the river.

Jenny sighed.

“It’s so weird to think that our parents had lives before us, you know?” Jenny said.

Dan nodded.

“I know, or that they had lives before each other, huh?” Dan said.

Jenny looked up at him.

“Lily seemed pretty upset,” Jenny said. “I wonder what happened while we were gone.”

Dan frowned.

“Uh, I don’t know… but it looks like we’re about to find out,” Dan said.

Down the street, Rufus and Alison were walking toward them, Rufus carrying a football, grinning like a kid. The kind of grin that didn’t belong in New York, more at home in a small town backyard. It made me smile a little, thinking of Tulsa.

Rufus tossed the ball to Dan.

“Hey!” Rufus said. “Who’s in the mood for a little Humphrey family scrimmage?”

Jenny perked up.

“What’ll it be?” Rufus asked. “Kids against the parents? Boys against the girls?”

“Oh, definitely girls against the boys,” Jenny said before anyone else could answer. “Because last year I got burned by Dan’s weak forward pass.”

Dan laughed, catching the ball.

“Hey, hey!” Dan protested. “I was nursing a rotator cuff injury from aught-five.”

Alison scoffed.

“Duh,” Alison said.

Jenny grabbed her mom’s arm.

“Come on, Mom, let’s go work out our plays,” Jenny said.

Alison grinned.

“Yep,” Alison said. The two jogged toward the open stretch of grass by the river, whispering strategy.

Dally leaned on a streetlight, smirking.

“They’re serious about this, huh?” Dally asked.

Soda laughed.

“You ain’t seen Jenny throw,” Soda said. “Girl’s got an arm.”

Rufus turned to Dan as the women walked away.

“So, not that you don’t have reason to be mad, but not telling you about Serena’s mom was extremely uncool,” Rufus said.

Dan crossed his arms, football tucked under one.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Dan said.

Rufus sighed.

“I should’ve said something,” Rufus said. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

Dan shook his head, trying not to smile.

“Given the ick factor alone, I’d say you set my progress back several months,” Dan said.

Rufus chuckled.

“Come on,” Rufus said. “You’re a Humphrey man. No daughter of Lily’s could ever resist.”

Pony rolled his eyes.

“Man, that’s the most dad thing I ever heard,” Pony said.

Rufus ignored him.

“How’d you leave it back there with her?” Dan asked.

“Wouldn’t expect Lily over for dinner anytime soon,” Rufus admitted after a pause. “Your mom and I need to focus on the future, not the past. And that’s a lot easier for all of us without her around.”
Dan nodded slowly.

“Oh, well… let’s play with the old pigskin then,” Dan said.

That got everyone moving. Soda and Two-Bit joined Jenny and Alison’s side, while Pony, Johnny, Dally, and I teamed up with Dan and Rufus. Darry stood back, arms crossed, half ref, half amused spectator.

The game started slowly, just some light tosses. But Soda had too much energy to keep it casual; he intercepted Dan’s pass on the second play, bolting toward the street like he was in the Super Bowl.

“Touchdown, baby!” Soda yelled, nearly colliding with a bike messenger.

“Watch it!” Darry barked.

Jenny whooped.

“That’s what you get for underestimating the girls, Humphrey!” Jenny said.

Rufus laughed, chasing Soda down. Alison was doubled over laughing, too, the tension from earlier completely gone. Even Dally cracked a grin, tossing the ball back to Pony between plays.

For a few minutes, it was just people, no Gossip Girl blasts, no secrets, no family scandals. Just laughter and breath in the cold air, shoes slipping on the wet pavement.

And standing there, under the glow of the bridge lights, I realized something: these people, for all their drama, weren’t so different from us. They fought, they messed up, but they always came back to each other.

Kinda like the gang.

“Alright, one more play!” Rufus calle dout.

Dan caught the final pass, dodged Soda, spun past Jenny, and tripped over Dally’s foot, face-first into the grass.

I couldn’t help it; I was doubled over laughing.

“Guess that rotator cuff ain’t your only weak spot!” Two-Bit said.

Dan threw a clump of grass at me, grinning through it.

“You’re lucky I don’t tackle greasers,” Dan said.

Dally smirked.

“Buddy, you wouldn’t last a minute if you did,” Dally said.

Everyone laughed, the sound echoing into the night, warm and easy. For once, there wasn’t any “Upper East Side” or “Tulsa street kid.” Just people finding their way through the mess of life and family.
And as we all stood there, catching our breath under the city lights, I couldn’t help thinking, maybe New York wasn’t so cold after all.

By the time we’d wrapped up the impromptu football game with the Humphreys, night had fallen, a kind of quiet New York night, where the air smelled like chestnuts and exhaust, and the skyscraper lights looked like stars that refused to fade.

Serena had called a car for us, said Blair’s mom wanted to thank us for helping out earlier that week, when Blair’s Thanksgiving had gone south. Darry hesitated at first; he wasn’t used to marble floors or doormen, but he agreed, figuring it was polite.

So that’s how we ended up at the Waldorf apartment on Park Avenue that night, me, Soda, Pony, Johnny, Dally, Two-Bit, and Darry, a gang of Tulsa boys standing awkwardly in a living room that probably cost more than our whole neighborhood combined.

Crystal lights hung like chandeliers out of a dream, and the whole place smelled like fancy candles and pie cooling on imported marble.

We were trying to stay out of the way, Darry talking quietly with Eleanor’s housekeeper, Soda, and Two-Bit whispering about how big the TV was, and Dally flicking through one of those high-end fashion magazines like it was a joke book, when Blair came home.

The elevator doors opened, and there she was, shoulders squared, chin up, like she was about to face the guillotine instead of her mom.

“Mom,” Blair said, stepping into the kitchen doorway. “Here you are.”

Eleanor turned, half-surprised, half-relieved.

“And here you are,” Eleanor said. “You had me worried sick.”

Blair took a deep breath.

“I know I… I shouldn’t have lied to you about your father,” Eleanor said.

“That never stopped you before,” Blair said, voice sharper than she probably meant it to be.

Eleanor gave a short, humorless laugh.

“True,” Eleanor said. “But…” she hesitated, glancing toward the counter. “The real truth…”

Eleanor picked up a thin stack of papers, cream-colored, official.

“Divorce papers,” Eleanor said. “From your father. And I’m supposed to sign them.” She looked down at them, eyes shining faintly. “I haven’t yet.”

Blair crossed her arms, masking the crack in her voice.

“Mom,” Blair said. “He’s living in Europe… with a man.”

Eleanor laughed softly, but it was the kind of laugh that came with tears behind it.

“You can’t be all that surprised that he wants a divorce,” Blair said.

Eleanor shook her head.

“I’m not,” Eleanor said. “But what I am surprised about is how it makes me feel.”

Eleanor’s voice wavered.

“He was my husband, after all,” Eleanor said. “My Harold. For almost twenty years. I couldn’t face him during the holidays. It was always our happiest time.”

The room was quiet, the kind of quiet that made you feel like breathing too loud would break it.

Even Dally looked down, pretending to study the tile pattern. Johnny shifted beside me, the look in his eyes saying he knew that feeling, the one where people leave, but the memories don’t.

Blair’s face softened.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” Blair asked.

Eleanor exhaled.

“And let you choose between the two of us?” Eleanor asked. “I wonder who would’ve won that battle.” Eleanor gave a small, sad laugh. “I’d have been entirely alone. Well… I was anyway.”

For a second, Blair didn’t move, then she stepped forward and hugged her mom. Tight.

Eleanor froze, surprised, then she returned the hug, closing her eyes.

“It's still Thanksgiving,” Blair murmured against her shoulder.

Eleanor smiled faintly.

“Yeah,” Eleanor said.

They both chuckled, quietly, but it sounded real this time.

Blair pulled back just enough to meet her mom’s eyes.

“What do you wanna do?” Blair asked.

There was a pause, and then Eleanor laughed softly again.

“Well, I suppose there’s pie,” Eleanor said.

That’s when Soda, never one to resist food, cleared his throat from the doorway.

“Uh, did somebody say pie?” Soda asked.

Blair turned, half-startled, half-amused.

“You’re still here?” Blair asked.

“Yeah,” Two-Bit grinned. “We figured we’d stick around. Never say no to dessert.”

Eleanor blinked, then smiled.

“Well,” Eleanor said. “I suppose Thanksgiving wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without unexpected guests.”

Darry nodded politely.

“Ma’am, we’ll stay out of your way,” Darry said.

“Oh, nonsense,” Eleanor said, already pulling plates from a cabinet. “If you boys helped bring Blair home safe, you deserve a slice. Maybe two.”

Pony looked around at all the glittering chandeliers and expensive furniture.

“Think we’re the first greasers ever to eat pie off fine china?” Pony whispered to me.

I grinned.

“Probably,” I said. “But hey, makes for a hell of a story.”

Blair passed her mom the dessert knife, their shoulders brushing, and for a second, just a second, they looked like any other mom and daughter trying to patch things up.

No gossip. No Upper East Side façades. Just two people figuring out how to forgive.

And watching it, I realized, even in a city full of lies and secrets, maybe there’s still a place for something real.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

Dally’s POV

Hospitals always had that smell, antiseptic and secrets. No matter how clean they made the floors shine, it couldn’t hide the stench of pain underneath. I’d been sittin’ in this waiting room so long the buzz of the fluorescent lights started soundin’ like a bad song stuck on repeat.

Nate Archibald was down the hall in his dad’s room. Word was the old man’d tried to check out early, pills, booze, the whole rich-man special. The kind of story that made the Tulsa Times back home read like bedtime tales.

Pony was hunched over in one of those plastic chairs, notebook open, pencil tapping.

“You ever think people like the Archibalds got all the money in the world and still end up feelin’ like nothin’?” Pony asked.

“Yeah,” I said, stretching my legs out. “Money doesn’t buy peace, kid. It just buys nicer ways to screw up.”

Johnny sat beside me, elbows on his knees, quiet like always. He hated hospitals, same as me, too many ghosts in ‘em. Soda tried to lighten things up, flirtin’ with a nurse who looked like she’d seen too much to care. Darry was at the vending machine, fighting a losing battle with a stuck candy bar, and Steve and Two-Bit were whispering bets about whether Nate’s dad would make it through the night.
Then Nate came out for a second. His face looked like he’d been chewin’ glass.

“He’s awake,” Nate said, voice tight. “You guys can… wait here.”

“Take your time, man,” Darry told him. “We ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Nate nodded and went back in, shoulders stiff, like walkin’ into a fight he didn’t wanna have.

Through the cracked door, I could hear bits of it. Not everything, just enough.

“Hey,” Nate said, soft, careful.

“Hey,” came the weak reply, his old man. “You’re still here… guess I must’ve fallen back asleep.”

“Yeah,” Nate said, “you were, uh, you were pretty out of it when I first came in.”

Silence for a beat, just the low beep of the monitor.

“Where’s your mom?” the old man asked.

“She’s getting coffee,” Nate said.

“How’s your mom?” the old man asked.

“She’s gonna be alright,” Nate said, his voice cracking like he didn’t believe it. “We all are. So… Vicodin and whiskey, huh?”

That hit me square in the gut. I knew that tone, anger, and heartbreak tangled up like barbed wire. I’d heard it in Johnny’s voice once when he talked about his old man.

“I guess I forgot I took that medicine when I…” Mr. Archibald started, but Nate cut him off.

“Dad, we’re not doin’ this anymore, okay?” Nate said. “We’re just not. I know it wasn’t an accident.”

The old man’s voice went small.

“Of course it was,” The old man said.

“No, it wasn’t,” Nate said, louder now. “When I found you, I thought you were dead.”

That silence again, the kind that hurts worse than words. I shifted in my seat, tryin’ not to picture my own old man, long gone and not missed.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Archibald said finally. “I just didn’t… I couldn’t…”

“Yes, you can,” Nate said. “Dad, you have to, please. I know it might not always feel that way, but we need you. Dad, we need you.”

Then there was this sound, not words, just the kind that happens when somebody grabs somebody else’s hand and won’t let go.

Johnny swallowed hard beside me.

“Sounds like he means it,” Johnny said quietly.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Kid’s tougher than he looks.”

Soda leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.

“Guess money doesn’t keep you from wantin’ to check out,” Soda said under his breath.

Darry shot him a look.

“Sometimes people just get lost,” Darry said. “Rich or poor don’t matter.”

The door opened again, and Nate stepped out. His eyes were red, but his jaw was set. He looked like a kid who’d been through hell and somehow decided to walk back out anyway.

“You okay?” Pony asked him.

Nate nodded slowly.

“He’s… he’s gonna be alright,” Nate said. “I think.”

Steve clapped him on the shoulder.

“You did good, man,” Steve said.

Two-Bit, of course, couldn’t help himself.

“See?” Two-Bit said. “Told ya the old man had too much money to die.”

Nate managed a weak smile anyway.

“Thanks for bein’ here,” Nate said. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, we did,” Darry said, steady and sure. “That’s what friends do.”

And just like that, the tension cracked. Soda grinned, Johnny exhaled, and Pony closed his notebook like the scene was done, but I could tell it wasn’t, not really. Not for Nate.
As we headed down the hall, the city lights from the window painted the tiles gold. I caught a glimpse of Nate back in his dad’s room, sitting by the bed again. Still holding his hand. Still fighting for him to stay.

And I thought, maybe that’s all any of us ever do.

Hold on.

Even when it hurts.

Even when you don’t think you can.

Morning came early, and the city was already buzzing. I’d just gotten used to the noise, cabs honking, people yelling into phones, steam hissing out of grates, when everyone’s phones started going off at once.

Pony buzzed first. Then Soda’s. Then mine.

And I swear, you could feel it, that Upper East Side hum that meant one thing.

A Gossip Girl blast.

Pony read it out loud, his voice half-amused, half-confused:

“Hey, Upper East Siders. It’s that time of year again, when the mere act of descending a staircase means you’re a woman. That’s right. Debutante season.

And from what we hear, there have been some changes to the lineup. Blair Waldorf’s set to shine brighter than ever, and rumor has it, Serena Van Der Woodsen’s dragging a few new faces to the party.
New Yorkers, meet the Tulsa transplants, seven boys from the wrong side of every track, now walking straight into Manhattan’s most exclusive ball.

Will they waltz, or will they wipe out? Stay tuned.

You know you love me.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.”

Two-Bit spat out his orange juice, laughing.

“Man, she makes us sound like we’re about to rob the place, not dance in it,” Two-Bit said.

Steve snorted.

“Yeah, ‘cause we ain’t dancing,” Steve said.

Soda grinned.

“Speak for yourself, Stevie,” Soda said. “I’ve been practicing.” He did a spin right there in the apartment, almost knocking over Pony’s notebook.

Pony sighed.

“Can we please not make headlines this week?” Pony asked.

I leaned back in my chair, smirking.

“Kid, in this town, just breathin’ wrong makes you a headline,” I said.

Darry walked in just then, tying his work tie.

“Whatever you guys are talkin’ about, keep it clean,” Darry said. “Remember, this ball thing’s not optional, it’s part of the school’s PR. We’re on loan to the Upper East Side, so don’t mess it up.”

Two-Bit winked.

“Yes, sir, Coach Curtis,” Two-Bit teased.

Darry shot him a look that shut him right up.

Later that morning, we found ourselves wandering downtown, coffee in hand, when we spotted Blair and Serena walking ahead of us, all heels, curls, and confidence. Even among the Manhattan crowd, those two stood out like they owned the sidewalk.

Blair was mid-rant, her words sharp as her posture.

“I’m actually glad I’m going with Prince Theodore instead of Nate,” Blair was saying. “The further we get from the breakup, the more self-involved I see he was. Always so brooding, so tortured. Ugh. A girl wants Romeo, not Hamlet.”

Serena laughed.

“Romeo died,” Serena said.

Blair waved a hand.

“Yeah, but he died for something exciting,” Blair said. “And I want my debutante ball to be something to die for.”

They both laughed, that effortless, carefree kind that only came from people who’d never had to fight for a meal or a bed.

“I think she means that literally,” Soda whispered.

Steve smirked.

“You sure she’s not talkin’ about poisonin’ Nate?” Steve asked.

Johnny elbowed them both, smiling faintly.

“Be nice,” Johnny said.

I chuckled low.

“They’d chew you up, J,” I said. “You realize that, right?”

Pony tilted his head, scribbling something in his notebook.

“You gotta admit though, they’ve got style,” Pony said. “And power. People just... follow them.”

Two-Bit grinned.

“Yeah, and we’re followin’ ‘em too, apparently,” Two-Bit said.

“Not like we got much choice,” I muttered. “Gossip Girl put our names right next to theirs. Sooner or later, somebody’s gonna expect us to play nice with the rich kids.”

Serena glanced over her shoulder then, eyes catching ours. She smiled that easy Serena Van Der Woodsen smile, the kind that could talk a cop out of writing a ticket.

“Hey, Tulsa boys,” Serena called. “You ready for cotillion week?”

Soda grinned.

“Only if there’s an open bar,” Soda said.

Blair turned, her perfect eyebrow arching.

“There is,” Blair said. “But don’t expect to get in without a tuxedo and a last name that opens doors.”

Two-Bit gave a dramatic bow.

“Good thing we’re experts at sneakin’ through the back,” Two-Bit said.

Blair smirked, almost approving.

“Figures,” Blair said.

As they walked off, the wind picked up, blowing the smell of roasted chestnuts from a nearby stand. Pony shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Think we’ll ever fit in here?” Pony asked.

Darry, who’d caught up to us from the crosswalk, looked down the street at the girls, then back at us.

“We don’t gotta fit in,” Darry said. “We just gotta stand tall.”

And I don’t know why, but that hit me harder than anything Gossip Girl could ever blast.
That night, I kept thinking about Blair talkin’ about Romeo, dying for something exciting.

Back home, people didn’t die for balls or love or image. They died for survival.

And I couldn’t help but wonder, if Blair Waldorf had grown up where we did, would she still think Romeo had it easy?

Because out here, the only thing worth dying for was the fight to live.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

Johnny’s POV

The city felt sharper that morning, cold enough that you could see your breath hanging in the air like smoke, soft enough that sunlight still bounced off every window. Manhattan mornings had this strange rhythm: cab horns, heels on pavement, the hiss of a bus, and the whisper of money moving through the streets. We were still getting used to it, six Tulsa boys and Darry trying not to look too out of place.

Two-Bit was already munching on a bagel, claiming it was “for cultural immersion.” Soda was laughing beside him, slapping him on the back. “You’re just in it for the cream cheese, man.”

I hung back a little, watching the flow of people like I always did. There was this constant push-pull here, everyone rushing but still trying to look like they weren’t.

That’s when we saw Nate and Chuck, the kind of guys who looked like they were born wearing thousand-dollar shoes. Chuck had that smirk that made you wanna swing first and ask questions later. Nate looked more normal, tired, maybe.

“Hey, so, uh, has Blair mentioned who’s escorting her?” Nate asked, hands jammed in his pockets.

“Why?” Chuck drawled. “Are you having remorseful sex fantasies about your ex?”

Soda whistled low.

“Guy doesn’t hold back, does he?” Soda said.

“What? No,” Nate said quickly.

“Don’t eff with an effer,” Chuck said. “I know that look.”

Two-Bit snorted,

“What’s an effer?” Two-Bit asked.

“No, man,” Nate said again. “It’s just, every time I see her lately, something’s different. She’s lighter, happier… she’s just less, less Blair.”

Chuck smirked.

“She does have a certain glow about her, doesn’t she?” Chuck said.

We exchanged looks.

“Sounds like trouble,” Pony muttered.

I didn’t disagree.

A few blocks down, we spotted Dan and Jenny walking toward Cotillion practice, deep in their own argument.

“I don’t understand why you don’t get this,” Jenny said. “A debutante ball is all a girl could ask for. It’s gorgeous and formal and totally legendary.”

“Don’t forget, out of touch and totally classist,” Dan replied.

“And if that’s how you feel, then why are you even going?” Jenny asked.

“I’m not going, and neither is Serena, actually,” Dan said. “I’m just meeting her grandmother to make a good impression, then I’ll take off before I put my foot in my mouth, like I usually do.”

Two-Bit chuckled.

“Kid’s got that self-awareness thing down,” Two-Bit said.

Soda grinned.

“Better than you ever did,” Soda teased.

We laughed, and it echoed weirdly against the stone and steel of the Upper East Side.

Then, across the street, Serena and Blair appeared, bright and golden against the winter gray. We didn’t even have to try to overhear. Their voices carried.

“All I get with Nate is some rosé in the back of a town car,” Blair said. “But with the prince, I get a security detail and a high-speed chase to the Pierre after it’s over.”

“Ooh! I can see you on the cover of Hello! Already,” Serena teased.

“Try The New York Times,” Blair said, tossing her hair. “They’ve chosen me for A Night Out With, and I’m going to give them the most perfect night out of the year.”
Two-Bit leaned over to Dally.

“Think we can get that gig?” Two-Bit said. “A night out with the Greasers?”

Dally smirked.

“We’d end up in The Post, not the Times,” Dally said.

We were still laughing when Blair and Serena crossed the street and vanished into a fancy building, one of those mirrored glass rehearsal halls.

From there, the view shifted again, Chuck and Nate strolling past the corner, Dan and Jenny just ahead, Serena and Blair disappearing through double doors. Every line of the city was moving toward something, the debutante ball, the next scandal, the next blast.

And as we stood there, greasers from Tulsa tangled in a Manhattan fairy tale, Gossip Girl’s voice floated through the static of a passing cab radio:

“Hey there, Upper East Siders. Looks like debutante season’s in full swing, and it’s not just the society girls getting their gloves pressed. Word is, a certain group of newcomers from Tulsa might be shaking up the dance floor. Keep your eyes on your pearls and your secrets, both have a way of slipping loose when the champagne flows. You know you love me. XOXO, Gossip Girl.”

Two-Bit whistled.

“Guess we made the morning news,” Two-Bit said.

Soda slung his arm over my shoulder.

“Welcome to the Upper East Side, Johnnycak,” Soda said. “Where the drama’s designer and the danger’s imported.”

I grinned.

“Feels like home already,” I said.

The ballroom at the Cotillion practice looked like it had been ripped straight out of a dream, polished floors shining like mirrors, chandeliers blazing above us, the air thick with perfume, champagne, and a kind of nervous laughter that only rich people could pull off. It was too clean, too perfect, like someone had scrubbed all the grit out of life and replaced it with glitter.

Soda leaned toward me, his voice low.

“So this is what passes for gym class around here, huh?” Soda said.

Two-Bit grinned.

“Yeah, man,” Two-Bit said. “We had dodgeball. They got debutantes.”

We tried to stay out of the way, but in a room that was spotless, we stuck out like oil stains. Dally was posted by a column, smirking at the fancy crowd, while Steve pretended to check out the chandelier’s wiring like he was gonna fix it. Darry had his arms crossed, eyes scanning the room like he was on security detail, and Pony… he was watching the girls twirl across the dance floor, a look of quiet awe on his face.

That’s when Serena’s voice rang out across the room, bright and easy.

“Oh, you’re here!” Serena said to Dan. “I’m so glad.”

Serena practically bounced up to Dan, who looked like he’d rather face a firing squad.

“Hey,” Dan said, smiling shyly.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my Grandma CeCe,” Serena said. “You’re just gonna love her.”

“I’m sure I will,” Dan said, in the same tone a guy might use right before stepping into a lion’s cage.

The guys and I traded looks.

“He’s doomed,” Soda whispered.

Before we could laugh, Lily swept in, all heels, pearls, and command. Even her phone call sounded like it cost money.

“Well, if you don’t listen to me, you’re gonna hear it from her,” Lily said. “And I promise, you don’t want that to happen. The brands I listed are the key to her happiness. And that includes Tanqueray.”

Lily hung up and turned, spotting us instantly. Her eyes flicked over our group like she was doing inventory.

“Dan,” Lily said. “Jenny. It’s so good to see you.”

Jenny gave a nervous wave.

“Hi,” Jenny said.

“Oh, hey, Jenny,” Serena said. “What are you even doing here?”

“Well, she loves these things, apparently,” Dan said, trying to play it cool.

“Well, I wish Serena did,” Lily said with a smile that could slice marble. “It would make my life a whole lot easier.”

“Lady’s got claws under that Chanel,” Two-Bit muttered under his breath.

“My grandma was chairwoman for this event for fifteen years,” Serena explained. “And now the committee’s asked my mom to join.”

“And my daughter,” Lily said smoothly, “could not wait to go for ten years, and then suddenly, she’s not even coming.”

Jenny’s eyes drifted to the girls dancing, the silk gowns swishing like waves. She looked like she wanted to be out there more than anything.

“Jenny?” Lily said. “Why don’t you volunteer?”

“Uh, well, Blair’s lead deb and we’re sorta on the outs,” Jenny said softly. “You know, I’m sure if she wanted my help, she would’ve asked.”

“Well, I’m asking,” Lily said, turning on the kind of charm that made men hand her their wallets. “Of course, we’d need your parents’ permission first. But we could use more help.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jenny said. “Um… see you Saturday.”

“Oh, actually,” Lily corrected, “it’s Sunday.”

“Uh… can I call you?” Jenny asked.

“Okay,” Lily said with a tight smile.

“Okay,” Jenny echoed.

And that’s when the room changed. Like someone had flipped a switch.

“Ah,” came a voice from the doorway, sharp as crystal and just as expensive. “There is my magnificent granddaughter.”

Heads turned. Grandma CeCe entered like she owned the entire building, which, honestly, she might have.

“Grandma!” Serena beamed.

“Oh.” Lily sighed. “Hello, Mother.”

“Is there a bar in this place?” CeCe asked flatly.

“No,” A nearby woman said.

“I should’ve known I had to bring the party myself,” CeCe said, producing a silver flask from her purse.

Two-Bit snorted.

“Now she’s my kind of old lady,” Two-Bit said.

Dally grinned.

“CeCe’s got more guts than half the greasers back home,” Dally said.

CeCe’s gaze swept over the group like a hawk scanning for prey. Then she landed on Dan.

“So,” CeCe said, her accent crisp as a five-dollar bill. “This must be Daniel.”

“Dan, actually. Dan Humphrey,” Dan said, offering a handshake. “Hi.”

“My granddaughter told me you were delighted when she decided not to make her debut this weekend,” CeCe said coolly.

Serena grinned mischievously.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Serena said. “Tell her what you think. Grandma loves honesty. It’s okay.”

Dan swallowed hard.

“Well, uh… cotillions just seem… antiquated to me,” Dan said. “You know, remnant of a different age.”

“Well,” CeCe said, eyes glinting, “do go on.”

“People spend all this money to have their daughters basically dance in front of others for attention,” Dan continued nervously. “When, if you ask Serena, I bet she’d do that for you right now, free of charge.”

A gasp went through the room. Two-Bit coughed to hide a laugh.

CeCe arched an eyebrow.

“The cotillion teaches the good graces that women should always have in their arsenal,” CeCe said.

“Oh, I think Serena’s graces are pretty spectacular,” Dan said.

Serena smirked.

“Aw,” Serena said. “Besides, Grandma, you haven’t used your graces in a while, I bet.”

CeCe turned sharply and glided away, pearls swinging like warning bells.

Serena looked at Dan, eyes wide.

“Isn’t she great?” Serena asked.

Dan exhaled.

“She’s… she’s great,” Dan said. “She’s something.”

We were barely done chuckling when CeCe reached Lily again.

“Dan Humphrey, was it?” CeCe said.

“Yes, Mother,” Lily replied through a strained smile.

Then CeCe’s eyes caught us, all seven of us, standing like we’d wandered in off the wrong movie set.

“And who might these fine gentlemen be?” CeCe asked.

Soda stepped forward, grinning.

“We’re friends of Serena’s and Dan’s,” Soda said. “Sodapop Curtis, ma’am, and, uh… the rest of us.”

Two-Bit waved.

“We’re the Tulsa exchange program,” Two-Bit said.

CeCe smiled thinly.

“How… quaint,” CeCe said.

Dally tipped an imaginary hat.

“Ma’am,” Dally said.

CeCe eyed him, maybe unsure if he was mocking her, which he kind of was.

Serena laughed.

“They’re good guys, Grandma,” Serena said. “Promise.”

CeCe pursed her lips.

“Well,” CeCe said. “Let’s hope they’re better dancers than conversationalists.”

“Guess we’ll find out on the dance floor,” Two-Bit said.

And as the orchestra struck up the first waltz and the girls took their partners, we hung at the edge of the room, greasers in borrowed suits, surrounded by royalty in heels.

But if there’s one thing we’d learned in New York, it’s that even the fanciest rooms have cracks, and sooner or later, the light, or the gossip, always finds a way through.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22
Pony’s POV

Blair and Chuck were kissing on her bed when the sound of Dorota’s heels echoed up the stairs. From where I sat on the Waldorf apartment’s staircase, me, Soda, and Johnny pretending to be polite houseguests while Darry talked to Eleanor Waldorf about “maintenance opportunities”, I could hear every word.

“Pretty hot on Prince Theodore’s arm today,” Chuck drawled.

“Oh, is that what I am to you?” Blair shot back. “Just an accessory?”

“Next to him, yes,” Chuck said. “On me, you’d be so much more.”

Blair scoffed.

“Yes, but I can’t be on you, remember?” Blair asked. “Because you don’t want Nate to find out. And I don’t want anyone to. But you’d have to learn how to behave first.”

The bell rang downstairs. Dorota’s voice cut through the air.

“Ms. Blair, Mr. Nate for you!” Darota called.

Soda grinned.

“Here we go,” Soda said. “Act two.”

Blair descended the stairs like she was stepping onto a stage. Her dress caught the light just right gold threading that made her look untouchable. Nate stood in the foyer, shifting on his feet, nervous in a way no rich guy was supposed to look.

“What are you doing here, Nate?” Blair asked, arms crossed.

Nate’s smile was small, sheepish.

“Well, I, um… look, you know, after rehearsal, I just, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Nate said. “I mean, the ball’s something we’ve talked about doing together since we were like ten years old.”

Johnny nudged me.

“They’ve known each other that long?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “She was born planning this.”

Chuck lingered at the top of the stairs, shadowed but watching, smirk fading.

“I’ve given you every reason to hate me,” Nate went on.

“True,” Blair said smoothly. “But keep going.”

“And the prince, he’s, uh, you know, he’s a great dancer and all,” Nate said. “But is there any chance you’d go with me instead? For old time’s sake?”

Blair hesitated just long enough to make him sweat.

“Nate, after what you pulled on my birthday, the only thing we should be doing together is moving on,” Blair said.

Nate’s shoulders slumped.

“Yeah, I know,” Nate said. “Look, I haven’t worn this sweater in, like, forever, and I, uh, just pulled it out today, and I found this.” Nate lifted his sleeve to show a tiny gold heart pinned near the cuff.

Blair froze.

“That’s my pin,” Blair said. “I sewed it there so you’d always have my heart on your sleeve.”

“That’s kinda sweet,” Soda muttered, but Darry shot him a look to shut up.

Nate laughed quietly.

“Yeah,” Nate said. “I figured you might need it back, or something, if…”

“No,” Blair said, softening. “It was a gift. The prince will understand. Maybe we should go to the ball together. As friends.”

Nate smiled, relief spilling out of him.

“Absolutely,” Nate said.

“But only as friends,” Blair said.

“Just friends,” Nate said.

From the hallway, I could see Chuck’s jaw tighten. He turned, muttering something under his breath, then vanished down the corridor. The air shifted, like the whole place exhaled.

Two-Bit and Steve slipped in from the terrace where they’d been pretending to fix a loose railing.

“So that’s the prince, huh?” Steve whispered. “Guy’s invisible.”

“Probably safer that way,” Dally muttered from near the doorway, cigarette unlit but ready. “Chuck Bass’s ego doesn’t take competition easily.”

Johnny frowned.

“She looked happier with Nate, though,” Johnny said. “Not scared.”

“’Cause Nate ain’t dangerous,” Soda said quietly. “Just dumb.”

Dorota appeared again with a tray of tea for Eleanor and Darry, and the rest of us made ourselves useful, Johnny offering to carry it, me helping Dorota pick up a dropped napkin. Blair glanced at us as she walked Nate to the door, curious but polite, like she couldn’t decide if we were staff or stories.

When the door closed behind him, she leaned against it for a heartbeat, eyes half-closed, the queen mask slipping just enough to see the girl underneath. Then she straightened, chin high again.

“Dorota,” Blair said briskly. “Tell Mother I’ll be at cotillion rehearsal first thing tomorrow.”

“Yes, Miss Blair,” Darota said.

As Blair swept upstairs, Dally whistled low.

“Man, these people got more drama in one conversation than we get in a whole month,” Dally said.

“Yeah,” Darry said, pocketing the business card Eleanor had given him. “And we’re gonna stay out of it.”

Easier said than done.

Because from the moment Blair and Nate made that promise, “just friends”, I could already hear the next Gossip Girl blast in my head:

Spotted: B back in N’s arms… but calling it friendship? Please. On the Upper East Side, “just friends” means “just waiting.” And somewhere in the shadows, C’s not smiling.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Johnny looked up at me as we stepped outside into the cold New York night.

“You think we’ll ever get used to all this?” Johnny asked.

I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, watching the city glow around us.

“Nah,” I said. “But maybe that’s what makes it worth watching.”

Later that afternoon, the gang piled into Rufus Humphrey’s art gallery. The space looked like something out of a movie: brick walls, tall ceilings, and light flooding in from wide warehouse windows. Paintings leaned against every surface, half-unpacked sculptures stood like they were watching us, and the whole place smelled faintly of turpentine and coffee.

Rufus was up on a small ladder, hammering a nail into the wall while humming to himself. Darry was steadying the frame beneath him, sleeves rolled up, expression serious like always.
“I gotta say,” Two-Bit said, whistling low, “this beats workin’ at the DX.”

Soda grinned, hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

“Yeah, but I ain’t sure art hangin’ is our specialty, man,” Soda said.

“Speak for yourself,” Steve said. “I got an eye for detail.”

“Sure,” Dally muttered. “That’s what you call cheating on essays.”

Johnny laughed quietly beside me, running a hand over a modern metal sculpture that looked like twisted lightning.

“People pay money for this?” Johnny asked.

I smiled.

“Guess so,” I said. “Beauty’s in the price tag here.”

That’s when the front door creaked open and Jenny Humphrey walked in, her blond hair bouncing around her shoulders, eyes lighting up when she saw her dad.

“Hey, Dad,” Jenny said.

Rufus turned around, smiling, hammer still in hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Rufus said. “I sense a favor about to be asked.”

Soda elbowed me.

“He knows that tone,” Soda whispered.

“It’s just…” Jenny trailed off, pointing toward the painting behind him.

Rufus turned, adjusting the crooked frame, which, honestly, Darry had just told him was uneven.

“Well,” Jenny said, biting her lip, “turns out I got a volunteer position at a charity.”

Rufus turned back around, eyes lighting up.

“That’s great!” Rufus said. “When is it?”

“Sunday night,” Jenny said, cautiously. “And I know it’s Mom’s opening, and I know it’s really important, but I can do both.”

Rufus frowned slightly, climbing down from the ladder.

“As a family, we support each other,” Rufus said. “And when one of us has something important, we all show up for it. Maybe you can volunteer next year.”

Jenny’s shoulders sank.

“Dad…” Jenny said.

Before Rufus could answer, Alison came in through the back entrance carrying a few thrift store bags, her smile soft but tired.

“Volunteer for what?” Alison asked.

Jenny sighed, shaking her head.

“Nothing,” Jenny said. “Doesn’t matter, ‘cause Dad said I can’t go.”

Jenny brushed past her mom and out the door, the bell jingling sharply behind her.

Soda frowned.

“Ouch,” Soda said.

Alison blinked after her, then turned back toward Rufus, her smile coming back with effort.

“Hey, I went thrift store shopping,” Alison said. “Found great stuff.” She pulled out a pair of shiny black heels, holding them up like treasure. “Got you some black vintage pumps. They’re gonna go perfectly with the dress you’re gonna wear for the opening.”

The door jingled again. Jenny had come back for a second, face flushed, voice tight.

“Mom, the kids I go to school with shop at Saks and Bendel’s,” Jenny snapped. “I can’t be walking around in someone’s old shoes.”

Jenny spun on her heel and stormed out again, harder this time. The sound echoed off the walls.

There was a heavy pause. The kind where no one really knew what to say.

Rufus stared at the closed door, jaw tightening, and Alison set the shoes down gently on the counter.

Darry, ever the steady one, spoke first.

“She’s just a kid tryin’ to find her place,” Darry said. “A city like this? Hard not to feel like you’re on the outside.”

Rufus exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” Rufus said. “Tell me about it.”

Two-Bit picked up one of the empty canvases leaning against the wall, turning it sideways.

“Maybe she’ll paint her way back in,” Two-Bit said. “You people do that, right?”

Soda chuckled.

“That or blow up the place,” Soda said.

Even Alison cracked a small smile at that.

But I kept watching the door.

Jenny had that same spark I’d seen in a lot of us when we first landed here: that mix of wanting more and not wanting to lose yourself trying to get it.

Johnny leaned against the wall next to me, his voice quiet.

“You think she’ll sneak out anyway?” Johnny asked.

I nodded.

“Yeah,” I said. “I think she already knows she’s going to.”

Dally smirked, flicking his lighter open.

“Kid’s got guts,” Dally said.

Darry shot him a warning look.

“She’s also got parents,” Darry said. “Not everyone’s story ends in a police report.”

Dally just shrugged.

“Then maybe hers’ll end in a debutante ball,” Dally said.

And just like that, I knew: it wouldn’t.

Not really. Because around here, every fancy event came with a price, and Jenny Humphrey was just starting to realize how much hers was gonna cost.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

Soda’s POV

The Van der Woodsen penthouse gleamed like a palace, light bouncing off the glass and marble, chandeliers glittering above us. I still couldn’t believe this was how some folks lived, like even their air had money in it. Serena was sitting between Lily and CeCe, laughing about something to do with her summer in Europe, her smile bright and easy. It reminded me a little of Pony’s smile when he used to daydream about sunsets, only Serena’s came with a teacup and pearls.

CeCe looked sharp as a tack in some cream-colored suit, the kind that probably cost more than Darry’s truck. Johnny was sitting on the arm of one of those velvet chairs, quiet and polite, like he always was when we were somewhere fancy. Two-Bit had nearly choked on one of those little cucumber sandwiches earlier, whispering to me, “Man, this ain’t food. This is leaves.” I’d had to nudge him quietly when Lily shot him a look that could’ve frozen over the Hudson River.

Serena excused herself, saying she had to grab something. That left Lily and CeCe talking softly, the air in the room getting thicker somehow.

“Well, I know you must not be happy, Mother,” Lily said, all calm on the outside but with that tight kind of voice that made you feel the weight underneath. “I remember how unhappy you were when I didn’t go. And I imagine you came all this way to change Serena’s mind, but she is intractable on this.”

CeCe gave a sad little smile.

“That’s not the reason I came,” CeCe said.

The gang went still, like even Dally caught the change in her tone.

“Everything okay?” Lily asked, setting her tea down.

CeCe sighed, looking smaller than I’d seen her yet.

“Lily, my darling, the doctors think they found something,” CeCe said.

Lily straightened.

“Something?” Lily asked. “What something?”

“Something in my lungs,” CeCe said, her voice trembling.

Lily’s face softened; whatever tension was there before just melted into shock.

“Oh no, Mom…” Lily said.

Even Dally stopped leaning back in his chair, his usual smirk gone. Johnny looked down, fiddling with his ring. Darry and I exchanged a glance, the kind you only give when you know what it’s like to lose someone close.

“Well, they’re running tests, but they said that it might not be good,” CeCe went on. “Look, I didn’t want to worry you. I don’t want to be a burden to you. I…”

“Oh, no, it’s no burden at all,” Lily said, her voice cracking a little.

CeCe reached across the coffee table, her hand shaking.

“All I want to do is see my granddaughter make her debut the way I did,” CeCe said. “The way my mother did before me.”

There it was, the quiet manipulation tucked inside all that emotion. Even I could feel it, and I wasn’t raised on Manhattan manners.

Lily nodded, already breaking.

“Oh, Mother,” Lily said. “Anything for you.”

CeCe smiled faintly as Lily hugged her, and right about then, Serena came bouncing back into the room with a photo box in her hands.

“What’s going on?” Serena asked, looking from her mom to CeCe.

Lily wiped at her eyes and turned to her daughter, trying to pull herself together.

“Um… Serena,” Lily said. “You’re going to the debutante ball.”

Serena blinked, caught between confusion and disbelief. CeCe just smiled sweetly over her teacup, looking every inch the queen who’d just moved her next chess piece.

Before anyone could say another word, every phone in the room buzzed at once. Mine, Pony’s, Two-Bit’s, and even Dally’s beat-up flip phone. Serena’s too.

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Serena van der Woodsen, looks like your invitation just arrived, with strings attached. Come out, come out, wherever you are. And it looks like the Tulsa boys are on the list too, try not to stain the ballgowns, darlings.”

Two-Bit snorted, nearly spitting out his tea.

“Man, how does this chick know everything?” Two-Bit said.

Dally laughed under his breath.

“Guess we’re famous now, huh?” Dally said. “Hope they got whiskey at this debut-what’s-it-called.”

Johnny gave a small smile.

“It’s cotillion, Dal,” Johnny said.”

“Whatever,” Dally snorted. “Sounds like trouble.”

CeCe didn’t even blink at the blast, though I swear I caught a flicker of amusement in her eyes, like she knew just how much power that message carried.

Serena groaned and muttered, “Unbelievable.”

Pony leaned toward me.

“You think she’ll really go?” Pony whispered.

I shrugged.

“If that lady’s her grandma, Ponyboy, she doesn’t have much of a choice,” I said.

The room went quiet again, all that sparkle and shine suddenly feeling heavy. Maybe it was the kind of fancy I’d never get used to, the kind that looked perfect but hid cracks deep underneath. And now, Serena van der Woodsen was headed for the biggest night of her life, and somehow, the Tulsa gang had front-row seats.

The next day came early for all of us, especially since CeCe Van der Woodsen had insisted, insisted, on buying tuxes for “the Tulsa gentlemen,” as she’d called us. None of us was about to argue with a woman like that, though Dally swore he’d rather wear his leather jacket and call it “Upper East Side chic.”

Now we were standing in one of those fancy men’s stores where everything smelled like money and starch. Mirrors lined the walls, all tall and cold-looking, reflecting about eight versions of me tugging at a collar that felt way too tight.

“Man,” Two-Bit muttered, fiddling with a tie that matched exactly none of his personality, “this place makes church look casual.”

Johnny tried not to laugh, looking sharp in his tux even though he clearly hated the spotlight. Darry was talking quietly with the tailor about the measurements. He actually fit right in with the Wall Street types, broad shoulders, and that look like he’d built the world instead of just walked into it.

CeCe had already swept out after declaring she’d “make gentlemen out of all of us yet.”

That’s when Nate Archibald walked out from one of the fitting rooms, tall, blond, clean-cut in his tux. He looked every bit the prep school prince, though his eyes looked tired, like he hadn’t slept right in weeks.

The sales rep straightened Nate’s bow tie and said politely, “Everything alright, Mr. Archibald?”

Nate smiled, a little forced.

“Oh, yes, everything’s fine,” Nate said. “It’s just my...my date. She’s never late, and, uh, she likes to have final approval.”

Two-Bit nudged me.

“Bet she’s one of those types who color-codes her shoes,” Two-Bit whispered.

Before I could laugh, the door chimed open and Blair Waldorf herself rushed in, breathless and already talking.

“Sorry!” Blair said. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! My cappuccino was decaf, and I couldn’t find my phone. It took forever to get a cab.”

Nate blinked.

“But you live up the street,” Nate said.

Blair looked at a mirror and started fixing her hair.

“I wasn’t home,” Nate said.

That got a look from all of us, Pony’s eyebrows raised, Dally smirked, and Darry gave him the subtle don’t even start glare.

Then Blair’s phone buzzed. She glanced down and smiled faintly, thumbs flying. Nate tried to keep the conversation going. “Well, everything’s taken care of,” he said while she kept texting.
“I’ll pick you up at five in the car,” Nate added. “I got that Laurent-Perrier you like.”

Blair’s phone beeped again.

“And I also thought we’d stop by The Modern afterward for dessert,” Nate continued. “‘Cause that’s your favorite.”

Blair didn’t even look up, just smiled at her phone again like it had whispered a secret.

“Blair,” Nate said.

Blair finally blinked up, half-guilty.

“Oh,” Blair said. “Um, we don’t have to go anywhere afterward. That’s fine.”

Then she dropped her phone, smack between their polished shoes. Nate bent to pick it up, but it buzzed again before his hand got there.

“Sorry. Uh… Who’s texting you so much?” Nate asked.

Blair snapped the phone shut.

“Serena,” Blair said. “Uh, I gotta go back to my house. My mom was supposed to throw this tea for Serena’s grandmother, and she had to jet to Paris at the last minute, so it’s all on me.”

“Okay,” Nate said. “Hey, uh, well, I’ll stop by and help you out.”

Blair smiled, just enough to keep him from guessing the truth.

“It’s alright,” Blair said. “I got it. Thanks.”

Nate gave her a lopsided grin.

“Who are you, and what did you do with Blair Waldorf?” Nate asked.

Blair actually laughed, soft and genuine.

“Not bad, Archibald,” Blair said. “I almost forgot how handsome you are.”

Blair walked out, phone in hand, already tapping out a reply to whoever was really on the other end.

Nate stood there for a moment, staring after her.

That’s when all our phones buzzed again.

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Spotted: Nate Archibald learning you don’t know a good thing till it’s gone and found someone else. And look who’s standing by in style, the Tulsa boys in tailored tuxes. Seems CeCe’s pet project cleaned up nicely. Try not to scuff those patent leathers, gentlemen.”

Two-Bit nearly fell over laughing.

“Man, she really doesn’t miss a thing!” Two-Bit said.

Dally adjusted his cufflinks.

“If she starts naming what we had for breakfast, I’m outta here,” Dally said.

Johnny smiled shyly, glancing at Pony.

“Guess we’re officially Upper East Side now, huh?” Johnny said.

Pony chuckled.

“If by that you mean broke and confused, then yeah,” Pony said.

I looked back toward the door Blair had just disappeared through, wondering how people with everything could still look so lost. We might’ve come from Tulsa, but some of this fancy crowd seemed lonelier than we ever were.

If you’d told me a year ago I’d be in the shoe department at Saks Fifth Avenue, standing under chandeliers the size of small cars while a saleswoman carried around a clipboard like it was a weapon, I’d have said you were nuts. But here I was, in a borrowed suit jacket CeCe Van der Woodsen insisted we wear while “acquiring accessories worthy of the Upper East Side.”

“Accessories,” Two-Bit whispered, pretending to inspect a display of silk ties, “like I’m supposed to know the difference between satin and silk. One feels like a snake, the other feels like a snake that costs more.”

Johnny stifled a laugh behind him. Darry was the only one taking it seriously, arms crossed, keeping us from embarrassing ourselves too badly. Dally had already gotten himself a lecture for sitting on one of the designer shoe displays like it was a park bench.

“Relax,” Dally said, stretching his legs. “If CeCe wants us to look like penguins, she can buy us the feathers too.”

We were trying to lay low when we spotted them, Lily Van der Woodsen and Jenny Humphrey, over by the high-end shoes. Jenny was sitting on one of those velvet stools, trying on a pair of heels that looked like they cost more than Darry’s truck.

Lily smiled politely, watching her.

“So your mom really didn’t mind your coming to, um, our ball with me?” Lily asked.

Jenny straightened, tugging at the strap of her shoe.

“No,” Jenny said. “Not at all.”

Lily nodded, her tone warm but a little too careful.

“And your father is okay with you volunteering as well?” Lily asked.

Before Jenny could answer, a voice cut through from the checkout counter.

“Um, excuse me,” Alison said.

We all turned, and there was Alison Humphrey, holding a shoebox, eyes sharp and tight. Jenny froze, halfway out of her seat.

Lily’s face flickered; she wasn’t used to being surprised.

“Alison,” Lily said smoothly. “Ah. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Alison let out a small, brittle laugh.

“That’s me,” Alison said. “Unexpected.”

Jenny glanced between them like she’d stumbled into the world’s fanciest boxing match.

“Um, Mom, can I talk to you for a minute?” Jenny asked.

Alison’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Uh, no, sweetie, we’ll have plenty of time to talk later,” Alison said.

Lily smoothed a hand through her perfect blonde hair.

“You know what, it is so nice of you to let Jenny come to our little event,” Lily said. “Cotillions really are instructive. They teach young girls good social graces…”

Alison’s jaw tightened.

“Well, then I’m sure she’ll learn a lot,” Alison said. “I’m gonna go.”

Jenny stood up quickly.

“Um, I’ll come with you,” Jenny said.

Alison turned and forced a small smile.

“No need,” Alison said. “I’ll see you later.”

And just like that, Alison was gone, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.

The whole store seemed to go quiet for a moment after she left. Jenny stood there staring down at the counter, at the shoes her mom had left behind. They were elegant, black, and modest. Not the shiny designer kind, but sturdy, beautiful in their own right.

Two-Bit nudged me.

“Guess those ain’t Saks enough for the Upper East Side, huh?” Two-Bit asked.

I shot him a look, but there was sadness behind his grin. Because we all saw it, the way Jenny’s shoulders slumped when she looked at those shoes, like she realized too late what they meant.

Darry stepped forward and spoke low so only she could hear.

“They were a gift, Jen,” Darry said. “Don’t forget that part.”

Jenny blinked up at him and nodded, voice small.

“Yeah,” Jenny said. “Thanks, Darry.”

Lily, meanwhile, was already calling a salesgirl over to wrap up another pair, glittery ones that sparkled so bright they nearly blinded Pony.

Pony leaned close to Johnny.

“If that’s what grace looks like, I’ll stick with sneakers,” Pony whispered.

Dally chuckled under his breath.

“Kid’s got a point,” Dally said. “Grace costs too damn much.”

As Lily ushered Jenny toward the register, her voice all polite warmth again, I couldn’t shake the way Alison had looked leaving, proud, hurt, and just a little defeated.

Maybe she didn’t have the right shoes for this world. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t trying to walk in it anyway.

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Spotted: Jenny Humphrey caught between old souls and new. When Upper East Side style clashes with Brooklyn heart, whose heels will she click together? And look who’s shopping nearby, Tulsa’s favorite outsiders, trying to blend in at Saks. Class war never looked so well-dressed.”

Two-Bit snorted.

“We’re famous again,” Two-Bit said.

Dally rolled his eyes.

“If she starts postin’ what brand boxers I got, I’m out,” Dally said.

Pony just grinned.

“Too late, Dal,” Pony said. “You’re already gossip gold.”

And for the first time all morning, the fancy lights didn’t feel so heavy, not with my gang there laughing beside me in the middle of Manhattan.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Darry’s POV

The elevator hummed softly beneath us, the walls lined in mirrors that made it feel like there were twice as many of us, and twice as many reasons I didn’t belong here.

Serena leaned against the polished brass rail, her hair done up soft but elegant, her voice low as she spoke to Dan.

“Thanks for understanding,” Serena said, her tone apologetic but grateful. “You know, why I have to go to Cotillion. It’s for my grandmother, CeCe. She’s... sick. And I couldn’t say no.”

Dan nodded, hands in his pockets, doing that nervous little smile thing he always did around her.

“Yeah, no, I get it,” Dan said. “Family stuff. Believe me, I know all about that.”

Behind them, Soda muttered to Pony, “Guess some family stuff just comes with better clothes.”

Pony elbowed him.

“Be nice,” Pony said.

The doors slid open to the Van der Woodsen penthouse, and the second we stepped out, I could tell this wasn’t just any get-together. There were servers in white gloves, trays of champagne, and more pearls and pressed collars in one room than I’d ever seen in my life.

CeCe Van der Woodsen stood in the center of it all, like a queen holding court, pale lavender suit, a diamond brooch gleaming under the chandelier. She spotted Serena and lit up like the sun itself had walked through the door.

“Ah, there she is!” CeCe said, sweeping toward her. “My radiant granddaughter! And your young man,” CeCe added, eyes twinkling toward Dan, “so nice of you to stop by before your… little literary engagement.”

Dan blinked.

“Uh, yeah,” Dan said. “Hi. Nice to…”

But CeCe was already moving on, because someone else had arrived.

“Serena, darling,” CeCe said, ushering her toward a tall man in a gray suit with a smirk that screamed trouble. “I’d like to introduce you to your escort for Cotillion, Carter Baizen.”

Carter smiled smoothly, shaking Serena’s hand.

“Serena van der Woodsen,” Carter said. “Been a while since anyone’s heard that name in town. Gossip Girl’s been buzzing all week.”

Serena raised an eyebrow, half amused, half annoyed.

“Well, nice to see you too, Carter,” Serena said.

I exchanged a look with Dally, who leaned closer.

“Guy’s got that same look Socs used to get before they wrecked their dad’s car,” Dally muttered.

“Behave,” I muttered back, but Dally was already smirking.

Blair Waldorf glided in next, practically sparkling in pearls, with a teacup balanced like it was an extension of her hand. Her eyes darted from Serena to Carter, then narrowed slightly, that perfect Upper East Side smile still plastered on her face.

“Carter Baizen,” Blair said, sweet as sugar but twice as sharp. “You do get around, don’t you?”

Carter grinned. “

What can I say?” Carter said. “I travel.”

Blair tilted her head.

“Oh yes, Gossip Girl mentioned something about you being chased out of Dubai?” Blair said. “Something about oil… and someone’s wife?”

The room chuckled lightly, except for Serena, who shifted awkwardly. I felt for her. Everyone in this world spoke in coded language, polite words with knives hidden underneath.

CeCe clapped her hands lightly, drawing attention back to herself.

“Let’s not bore our guests with gossip,” CeCe said. “We’re celebrating tradition, after all.”

Soda leaned closer to me.

“Yeah, nothing says tradition like scandal with a smile,” Soda said.

Two-Bit muffled a laugh behind his teacup. Pony tried to hush him, but wasn’t doing much better. Johnny just looked fascinated, like he’d stepped into another universe where everyone fought wars with small talk and silver spoons.

CeCe turned toward us then, eyes gleaming with polite interest.

“And of course, we mustn’t forget our special guests,” CeCe said. “The young men from Tulsa, the ones I’ve taken under my wing for Cotillion.”

Every eye in the room turned toward us. Dally gave a lazy salute.

“Howdy,” Dally said.

I resisted the urge to bury my face in my hands.

CeCe smiled tightly.

“Such charm,” CeCe said.

Serena bit back a laugh. Blair’s expression landed somewhere between horror and amusement.

Pony stepped up, polite as ever.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Pony said. “We really appreciate all your help with the suits.”

CeCe softened a bit at that.

“Oh, darling, don’t mention it,” CeCe said. “You boys are making quite the impression already. Why, Gossip Girl can hardly stop writing about you.”

As if on cue, everyone’s phones buzzed. The familiar ping echoed through the entire room.

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Spotted: Serena van der Woodsen’s date for Cotillion isn’t who you think, Carter Baizen, the bad boy of the Upper East Side, back from exile. But that’s not all: CeCe’s charity project, the Tulsa boys, are officially in the mix. Will they waltz like gentlemen or trip over their working-class charm? XOXO - Gossip Girl.”

Two-Bit grinned.

“Guess we’re famous again,” Two-Bit said.

“Not sure that’s a good thing, man,” Steve muttered.

CeCe waved off the murmurs and took Serena by the arm.

“Now, darling, let’s rehearse your entrance with Carter,” CeCe said. “We’ll make sure your debut is nothing short of flawless.”

Serena sighed softly and gave Dan an apologetic smile before stepping away.

“Good luck,” Dan said, his voice low but warm.

CeCe shot him a look like he’d just tracked mud onto her Persian rug.

I leaned against the back wall, watching the scene play out, CeCe maneuvering, Blair watching with envy, Serena trying to keep her balance in a world that never stopped spinning.

It wasn’t my kind of place, but I couldn’t help but respect the way they held themselves. All glitter and grace on the surface, just like us greasers back home, except our scars showed more.

Soda caught my eye.

“Guess every world’s got its own rumble, huh?” Soda muttered.

I smiled faintly.

“Yeah,” I said. “They just fight with tea and secrets instead of switchblades.”

The Humphrey apartment….

The Humphrey apartment was smaller than CeCe Van der Woodsen’s kitchen, but it felt warmer, lived-in. There were stacks of old records by the couch, a half-finished mug of coffee on the table, and the smell of paint and waffles mixing in the air. It reminded me of home, in a weird way, not Tulsa, exactly, but the kind of place where people tried their hardest even when they didn’t have much.

Jenny stood in front of her bedroom mirror, the soft glow from her bedside lamp bouncing off a pale pink dress that sparkled faintly when she turned. It wasn’t designer-level glitz like Blair Waldorf’s, but it had heart. The kind of dress a kid dreams about wearing when the world’s telling her she can’t.

She smoothed the skirt nervously and sighed.

“It’s not that big a deal. I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours,” Jenny whispered to herself.

Alison appeared in the doorway, arms folded, her voice quiet but firm.

“Jenny,” Alison said.

Jenny turned, startled.

“Hey, Mom,” Jenny said.

Alison walked further into the room, her tone softening as she looked her daughter up and down.

“You look beautiful,” Alsion said honestly. “Like the little girl who used to put on pillowcases and call them gowns.”

Jenny smiled faintly.

“That was a long time ago,” Jenny said.

Alison’s expression faltered.

“Yeah,” Alison said. “Seems like it.” She glanced toward the mirror again. “This isn’t about the dress, sweetheart. It’s about timing. You know tomorrow’s my show opening. It’s… It’s important.”
Jenny frowned.

“I know it’s important, Mom,” Jenny said. “But so is Cotillion! It’s not like I’ll be gone all night…”

Johnny, Soda, and I were sitting in the living room, close enough to hear the tension build through the cracked door. The others, Pony, Dally, Steve, and Two-Bit, were pretending to thumb through Rufus’s vinyl collection, but none of us missed a word.

Alison sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Jenny, you’ve been keeping secrets,” Alsison said. “Volunteering behind my back, sneaking off to meet Lily Van der Woodsen…”

Jenny’s voice trembled.

“Because I had to!” Jenny said. “You don’t understand what it’s like at school. Everyone there, they’re all so…” She stopped, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Alison’s tone sharpened.

“Try me,” Alison said.

Jenny’s eyes flashed.

“They have everything, Mom,” Jenny said. “Money, clothes, status. If I don’t keep up, I disappear. I just want to belong for once.”

Soda shifted beside me, frowning.

“Kid sounds like us back in Tulsa,” Soda whispered. “Tryin’ to fit somewhere you ain’t supposed to.”

I nodded slightly.

“Yeah, except her fight’s with lace and lineage,” I said.

Inside the bedroom, Alison’s jaw tightened.

“I came back to fix things, Jenny,” Alison said. “I know it’s been… rocky. But if you think running around in a borrowed gown is going to make you belong, you’re wrong.”

Jenny’s hands balled into fists.

“So what, I’m grounded for wanting to go?” Jenny asked.

Alison looked her daughter square in the eye.

“No,” Alison said. “You’re grounded because after the show, when we come home, you’re going to remember that you’re fifteen. And that this family comes before any Upper East Side fantasy. A week. No parties. No Van der Woodsen anything.”

Jenny’s face fell.

“You can’t be serious!” Jenny said.

Alison crossed her arms.

“I am,” Alison said.

There was a long pause, the kind that hurt worse than yelling. Jenny blinked fast, biting her lip like she refused to let herself cry. Then she spun away, glaring at her reflection like it had betrayed her.

“I hate this,” Jenny whispered.

From the doorway, Dally leaned against the wall, voice low and gruff but not unkind.

“Welcome to the club, kid,” Dally said. “Sometimes you do what you gotta, not what you want.”

Jenny turned, startled to see us still there. Pony stepped forward, offering a small, sympathetic smile.

“Hey, look, you’ll get another chance,” Pony said. “Maybe not tomorrow, but someday. Cotillion’s just a dance. You’ve got bigger stuff ahead.”

Jenny blinked, trying to smile back, but her voice cracked.

“Thanks,” Jenny said. “You guys don’t get it, though. Over here, everything’s about how you look, who you show up with.”

Two-Bit scratched the back of his neck.

“Sounds a lot like Greaser turf,” two-Bit said. “Different zip code, same stupid rules.”

Jenny laughed softly through her frustration.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jenny said.

Alison sighed from the doorway, suddenly looking older, tired in the way only a mother trying to do everything could be.

“Jenny,” Alison said, quieter this time, “I don’t want to fight. Just… be home for the show. Please.”

Jenny nodded stiffly.

“Fine,” Jenny said.

Alison lingered a moment longer, then turned to us with a polite but weary smile.

“You boys staying for dinner?” Alison asked.

Dally smirked.

“Wouldn’t say no to waffles again,” Dally said.

That finally earned a real laugh from Jenny, short but genuine.

When Alison disappeared down the hall, Soda spoke up softly.

“She’s tryin’, kid,” Soda said. “So are you. Sometimes that’s all anyone can do.”

Jenny looked at us, dress still glowing under the lamplight.

“I wish trying was enough,” Jenny whispered.

And standing there, me, Soda, Dally, Pony, Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit, all dressed up for a world that wasn’t ours, I couldn’t help but think she was right. Sometimes, trying just wasn’t enough. Not here. Not anywhere.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25

Two-Bit’s POV

If someone told me back in Tulsa that I’d be strolling through a five-star hotel with a guy like Chuck Bass, I would’ve laughed so hard I’d spill my beer. Yet there I was, tagging behind him and Nate Archibald, both of them dressed like GQ cover models, their shiny shoes echoing against the marble floor of the Palace Hotel.

The chandelier light made everything sparkle: marble, glass, and people. It didn’t feel real. And neither did Nate. He looked like a guy who’d forgotten how to breathe.

“So,” Nate said, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I don’t get it. What did I do wrong? Blair used to, she used to love me. I mean, really love me. Now it’s like I can’t even get her to look at me for five seconds.”

Chuck smirked, walking slowly, confidence dripping off him like cologne.

“You sure it’s not because you treated her like an old toy?” Chuck asked. “Girls don’t exactly like being last season’s model, Nate.”

“Come on,” Nate muttered, shaking his head. “I’m trying to fix things.”

Dally leaned toward me.

“Kid’s trying to win back a girl who’s already hooked up with his best friend,” Dally whispered. “He’s fighting a losing battle.”

I grinned.

“Yeah, well, not everyone’s as slick as you, Dal,” I said.

“Damn right,” Dally said with a smirk.

Up ahead, Chuck turned toward Nate with that wolfish grin of his.

“You really want to know what you did wrong?” Chuck asked. “You stopped fighting for her. Blair Waldorf doesn’t want peace. She wants passion. Drama. Fire.”

Nate frowned.

“So what, I should start yelling at her in French or something?” Nate asked.

Pony snickered behind me.

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Pony said.

Chuck didn’t even blink.

“You should remind her what she’s missing,” Chuck said. “Remind her why she loved you in the first place.”

Nate ran a hand through his hair.

“And if she’s already moved on?” Nate asked.

Chuck chuckled, low and knowing.

“Then you make her remember,” Chuck said.

I caught Darry rolling his eyes.

“They’re talkin’ about girls like it’s a battle plan,” Darry said.

“Isn’t it?” Dally asked.
“Not one I ever wanna fight,” Darry muttered.

The elevator dinged open behind us, and Chuck turned to Nate, patting his shoulder like a general sending a soldier to war.

“Try not to embarrass yourself, Archibald,” Chuck said. “You’ve got a reputation to reclaim.”

“I think I preferred it when our problems involved cops, not cotillions,” Pony whispered as we walked off.

A few hours later, we found ourselves back at the Van der Woodsen penthouse for the tea event, that pre-Cotillion circus where the women sipped champagne and judged you with smiles.

I hung by the wall with Dally, Johnny, and Soda while Pony tried to look like he belonged by the snack table. Darry had on one of CeCe’s perfectly pressed suits, looking more like a senator than a construction worker.

Dan Humphrey had wandered off to the bathroom, clearly overwhelmed by all the glittering chaos of Manhattan’s elite. When he came back out, he was halfway to the door when a sharp, elegant voice cut through the room.

“Leaving so soon, Daniel?” CeCe asked.

Dan froze. CeCe Van der Woodsen stood by the tea table like she’d been waiting her whole life for this exact moment, teacup in hand, smile cold and perfect.

“Oh, uh…” Dan stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was just, uh, heading out. Long day.”

CeCe’s eyes narrowed, amused.

“Do you like it here?” CeCe asked.

Dan blinked.

“Excuse me?” Dan asked.

“Here,” CeCe repeated, gesturing with her cup around the room. “In our world. Among us.”

CeCe’s tone had a sugar-sweet edge that made even Dally stiffen beside me.

Dan hesitated.

“Well… I mean, I’m not really sure I belong…” Dan said.

CeCe cut in smoothly.

“No,” CeCe said. “You’re not.”

That made Pony flinch, like the words had been aimed at him. Maybe in a way, they were.

CeCe smiled, setting down her cup.

“You’ll always feel like an outsider, Daniel,” CeCe said. “Always trying to prove yourself. It doesn’t get easier. It only gets worse.”

Dan’s jaw tensed, and for a second I thought he might actually say something sharp. But instead, he just nodded once.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Maybe. But I’ve been on the outside before. Doesn’t scare me much.”

Dally grinned.

“Hell yeah,” Dally muttered under his breath.

CeCe raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” CeCe said. “That’s good to know. But I do hope, for Serena’s sake, that she doesn’t waste too much time trying to make you fit.”

Dan didn’t answer. He just gave her a look, one of those quiet, cutting stares that said everything words couldn’t, and walked past her.

As the door closed behind him, CeCe turned, looking right at us, Tulsa boys with that same polished smile.

“And you,” CeCe said lightly, “seem to be fitting in just fine.”

My grin activated.

“Oh, we’re practically locals now,” I said. “I’m thinkin’ of buyin’ a penthouse myself. Maybe two.”

CeCe blinked once, then smiled in that way that rich people smile when they think you’re joking but aren’t sure.

“Well, let’s hope you make better investments than Carter Baizen,” CeCe said.

Dally whistled low.

“Lady’s got claws,” Dally said.

Soda chuckled.

“I like her style,” Soda said.

Darry shot us both the look that could kill.

“Show some respect,” Darry said.

But right then, everyone’s phones chimed again, the sound of the Upper East Side’s favorite war drum.

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Spotted: Lonely Boy getting a lesson in class from the queen herself, CeCe Van der Woodsen. Word is, even Tulsa’s greasers got an invite to the lecture. Looks like manners aren’t the only thing on the syllabus. Keep your chin up, Humphrey; outsiders don’t last long in this zip code. XOXO, Gossip Girl.”

Johnny groaned.

“Man, this chick doesn’t sleep,” Johnny said.

I laughed.

“Nah, she’s probably got an intern writing this stuff for her,” I said.

Soda elbowed me.

“You think she’s watchin’ us right now?” Soda asked.

I shrugged, smiling.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” I said. “Everyone else in this city already is.”

As the chatter rose again and CeCe drifted off to talk with Lily, I leaned against the window, looking out at the skyline.

We’d come a long way from Tulsa’s cracked streets. But the funny thing about New York? No matter how high you climbed, someone always wanted to remind you that you started at the bottom.

And for once, that didn’t bother me. Because of the difference between us and them?

We’d survived worse than gossip.

The next afternoon found us back in familiar territory, another fancy penthouse, another tension-filled living room.

This time it was Blair Waldorf’s, and she’d turned her entire apartment into a stage. Cameras and notebooks were out, lights soft, and her voice carried the kind of polish you could only learn from years of charm school and emotional warfare.

Blair sat gracefully on the edge of her cream-colored sofa, talking to a young woman with a leather notebook and a New York Times badge clipped to her blazer.

“It’s really about upholding tradition,” Blair said, smiling sweetly. “Cotillion is about family, legacy, and grace. I’m honored to represent the next generation of Upper East Side society.”

Pony leaned close to me from where we were sitting on the side, pretending to admire the Waldorf artwork.

“She’s got her whole act rehearsed,” Pony said.

I smirked.

“Kid, this is her act,” I said.

The reporter smiled.

“And what about your escort for the evening, Blair?” The reporter asked. “Nate Archibald, right?”

Blair’s tone softened just slightly, her words dripping with nostalgia.

“Yes,” Blair said. “Nate and I have known each other forever. He’s… reliable, charming, and well…” Blair smiled faintly “...Nate’s always been my knight in shining cashmere.”

The reporter laughed politely, scribbling notes. Johnny shot me a look that said, Did she really just say that? I shrugged, because yeah, she absolutely did.

Just as Blair was finishing her quote, the door opened and in walked Chuck Bass, scarf hanging loose around his neck, arrogance practically radiating off him.

“Hello, Blair,” Chuck drawled. “Did I miss storytime?”

The reporter looked up awkwardly. Blair’s smile froze, brittle as glass.

“No, Chuck,” Blair said. “Just in time for me to lose my appetite.”

CeCe had made us tag along because she said it was “important for the Tulsa boys to see how refined publicity works.” Yeah, refined. More like cutthroat.

The reporter wrapped things up quickly.

“Thank you, Miss Waldorf,” The reporter said. “We’ll be in touch before the piece runs.”

Blair practically shoved her out the door. As soon as it shut, she rounded on Chuck.

“What are you doing here?” Blair hissed.

Chuck grinned, taking a slow step toward her.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Chuck said. “Thought I’d stop by and see how my favorite debutante was spinning the truth today.”

“Excuse me?” Blair snapped.

“‘Nate Archibald, knight in shining cashmere,’” Chuck mimicked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You do realize the only armor that guy ever had was his trust fund.”

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” Blair said, chin high. “You think because you hide behind your father’s money that you’re any better?”

Dally snorted.

“This is gettin’ good,” Dally said.

Darry elbowed him.

“Keep quiet,” Darry warned.

Chuck’s smirk slipped.

“Funny,” Chuck said. I didn’t hear you mentioning me in your ‘A Night Out With’ article. No glowing words for the man who actually keeps you warm these days?”

Blair froze, her voice low and trembling.

“We agreed not to talk about that,” Blair said.

Chuck stepped closer, eyes dark.

“Right,” Chuck said. “Because Nate might find out. And we can’t have your precious image ruined, can we?”

“That’s not fair, Chuck,” Blair said.

“Neither’s pretending you care about Carter Baizen,” Chuck said. “His voice sharpened, and even I felt the sting of it. “You don’t like him. You like the idea of someone dangerous, until you remember that’s me.”

For a heartbeat, no one moved. The air felt heavy enough to choke on.

Then Blair turned away, her voice clipped.

“Get out,” Blair said.

Chuck hesitated, just long enough to let her know it got to him, and then left without another word, slamming the door behind him.

Johnny exhaled.

“Remind me not to tick off Blair Waldorf,” Johnny said.

“You couldn’t afford to,” Soda muttered.

We didn’t have long to breathe before we got swept off to the next mess, CeCe’s event at Rufus’s art gallery.

It was supposed to be Alison’s night, her big return to the art scene. Canvases lined the walls, lights were dim but warm, and Rufus was moving through the room with his usual quiet charm. But CeCe Van der Woodsen didn’t do quiet.

CeCe spotted him across the room and swooped in like a hawk.

“Rufus Humphrey,” CeCe said, smiling that venom-sweet smile of hers. “It’s been years.”

Rufus stiffened slightly but nodded.

“CeCe,” Rufus said. “Good to see you.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” CeCe sipped her champagne. “It seems your son has quite the reputation these days.”

Rufus frowned.

“Meaning?” Rufus asked.

CeCe’s tone was casual, too casual.

“Well, Daniel’s been spending quite a lot of time in my granddaughter’s world,” CeCe said. “And I can’t help but notice the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Rufus blinked.

“Excuse me?” Rufus said.

CeCe smiled thinly.

“You were charming once, too, Rufus,” CeCe said. “Until my daughter realized charm doesn’t pay the bills. I’d hate to see history repeat itself.”

Pony and I exchanged glances.

“She’s ruthless,” I whispered.

Dally grinned.

“Kinda like her style,” Dally said.

Rufus set down his glass, voice steady but firm.

“CeCe, whatever happened between me and Lily was decades ago,” Rufus said. “And Dan’s not me.”

“Maybe not yet,” CeCe said, her eyes sharp as glass. “But he’s close. The hungry look, the idealism, it’s all the same. And Lily has always had a soft spot for projects.”

Darry stepped in before Rufus could snap.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, Dan seems like a good kid,” Darry said. “You can’t judge him for where he came from.”

CeCe turned to him, appraising him like he was a new painting she hadn’t decided if she liked yet.

“Ah, the Tulsa contingent,” CeCe said. “Still defending lost causes, I see.”

“Only the ones worth defending,” Darry replied evenly.

There was a flicker in her eyes, not quite anger, not quite respect, before she smiled again.

“Well, Mr. Curtis, I do hope your loyalty isn’t misplaced,” CeCe said.
Rufus finally cut in.

“CeCe, why don’t you leave my son out of whatever this is?” Rufus said. “He’s doing just fine.”

CeCe’s smile didn’t waver.

“For now,” CeCe said. She turned, her heels clicking against the gallery floor. “But Rufus… be careful. The higher they climb, the harder they fall.”

As CeCe walked off, Soda leaned close to me and whispered, “If that lady ever smiles at me like that, I’m runnin’ the other way.”

I grinned.

“Good plan, man,” I said. “That smile’s got teeth.”

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Spotted: Queen B losing her cool with Basshole Boy, and CeCe Van der Woodsen turning Rufus’s art show into target practice. When the old money starts whispering and the new blood starts fighting back, who comes out clean? Not the Tulsa crew, apparently, chivalry looks better in a suit. XOXO, Gossip Girl.”

Dally threw up his hands.

“What the hell, we weren’t even in that one!” Dally said.

Pony grinned.

“Guess we are now,” Pony said.

And somewhere across town, I swear I could hear CeCe Van der Woodsen laughing.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26

Steve’s POV

The ballroom glowed like something out of a movie, chandeliers blazing, the floor polished until it reflected every pearl, every tuxedo shoe, every ounce of wealth that shimmered off the Upper East Side. For a bunch of Tulsa boys used to oil-stained streets and flickering streetlights, this might as well have been another planet.

I tugged at the cuff of my borrowed tux, well, not borrowed, more like sponsored. CeCe Rhodes had insisted on outfitting the whole gang after learning about our "small-town charm." Soda had nearly fainted when she mentioned the word custom.

“Man,” Two-Bit muttered, adjusting his bow tie like it was choking him. “If they got chandeliers this big, I’m scared to ask what the bathrooms look like.”

Johnny elbowed him.

“Behave,” Johnny said. “We’re guests, remember?”

“Guests or aliens?” Dally said with a smirk, leaning against the column near the champagne table. He looked like he owned the place, wild confidence wrapped in a tux. The kind of danger Manhattan girls weren’t used to but couldn’t look away from.

We watched as the Cotillion began. Serena floated in on Dan’s arm, golden, glowing, nervous. He looked out of place, sure, but proud.

“Kinda like watching someone walk through a dream they don’t think they belong in,” Pony murmured.

I nodded.

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s holding his own, though.”

CeCe, sitting in the front row like a queen on her throne, looked satisfied. Every flicker of camera flash caught her smile, polished, commanding. She gave Dan a single approving nod as he walked Serena toward the center of the floor.

Darry stood nearby with his hands folded behind his back, watching the whole thing unfold like he was on security duty instead of a guest. He couldn’t help it; it was in his nature to protect. He scanned the crowd like he expected trouble, even in a ballroom filled with diamonds and debutantes.

“Don’t tell me you’re expectin’ a rumble,” Soda teased him quietly.

Darry smirked.

“You never know,” Darry said.

The music shifted. The orchestra played a waltz so smooth it made the air shimmer. Blair appeared at the top of the staircase, radiant in white, poised next to Nate Archibald. The room broke into soft applause.

“Man, she looks like royalty,” Pony whispered.

“Yeah,” Johnny said softly. “But she’s got that look, like she’s tryin’ too hard not to think about someone.”

He was right. I followed her gaze for half a second, and sure enough, Chuck Bass was lurking in the back, a drink in hand, his expression unreadable but his eyes never leaving Blair.

Then it happened, the dance, the turn, the moment. Serena and Dan moved together across the floor, perfectly awkward, perfectly real. The other couples were picture-perfect, rehearsed, and rigid, but Serena and Dan were alive.

Two-Bit leaned toward me.

“They’re makin’ these fancy people look stiff as statues,” Two-Bit said.

“That’s ‘cause it’s real,” I said. “You can tell. They’re not thinkin’ about who’s watchin’.”

Just then, Jenny slipped in through the side door, breathless, defiant, and clearly not supposed to be there. Her hair was pinned up, her dress simple but stunning. Soda caught her eye and nodded, giving her a little grin of encouragement.

She mouthed thank you before vanishing into the crowd.

CeCe saw her immediately, lips tightening, but said nothing, not yet. Lily noticed, too, her face softening with conflict.

Meanwhile, the gossip hum in the room rose like a tide. Phones buzzed. The glint of light off a dozen screens made it clear: Gossip Girl was already on it.

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Well, well. Looks like a few debutantes aren’t the only ones making a scene tonight.

Tulsa trouble in tuxedos? The Greasers crash the Cotillion, and Upper East Side manners will never be the same.

And Jenny Humphrey? Guess she couldn’t resist a night among the pearls after all.”

Two-Bit whistled under his breath.

“Dang, we made the feed,” Two-Bit said.

Dally grinned.

“Guess that means we belong here after all,” Dally said.

Dan and Serena stopped dancing, laughing softly as the crowd clapped. CeCe looked like she might faint from pride or control. Blair’s dance with Nate ended, but the spark wasn’t there. Not like before.
The song faded, applause rolled through the ballroom, and the chaos of whispers replaced it. Nate stepped back to get some air. Blair turned, locking eyes with Chuck across the room, just a moment, but electric enough to burn through every crystal light.

Pony caught it, too.

“You see that?” Pony asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s trouble.”

Darry’s jaw clenched.

“And we’re stayin’ out of it,” Darry said.

We didn’t. We never did.

The next song started, slower, darker, and somewhere between the twirl of gowns and the flash of camera bulbs, Upper East Side drama and Tulsa grit collided again.

And me? I couldn’t shake the thought that somehow, we’d been folded into their story like background noise, a reminder that even in a ballroom this bright, there’s always a shadow following close behind.

The ballroom that had started the night glittering like a dream now looked like the aftermath of one. The air hung thick with whispers and perfume, music still playing somewhere in the background as people pretended everything was still picture-perfect, but everyone knew the truth.

A fight.

At Cotillion.

And somehow, the Tulsa boys were right in the middle of it.

“Dally, you couldn’t have picked a worse time to throw a punch,” Darry muttered as security shuffled people back into place.

“Hey,” Dally snapped, loosening his bow tie, “the guy was pushin’ Johnny. He grabbed his arm like he owned him. You don’t do that.”

Two-Bit laughed under his breath.

“Upper East Side or not, a Greaser’s a Greaser,” Two-Bit said.

I couldn’t help smirking even though my heart was still racing. The chandelier lights made everything feel like it was happening in slow motion. Serena was across the room with Lily, both of them red-faced and whispering too loudly for whispers.

Lily’s pearls trembled as she spoke.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Lily asked. “This was supposed to be a graceful evening, Serena.”

Serena crossed her arms. “Mom, it was one punch! You act like we burned the building down.”

Lily’s voice dropped sharply.

“You embarrassed me,” Lily said. “You embarrassed CeCe. You embarrassed yourself.”

Soda nudged me.

“Guess we ain’t the only ones in trouble tonight,” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Except when we fight, it’s usually in an alley. Not under a chandelier.”

Across the room, Serena pulled away from Lily, her eyes glassy. Carter Baizen, smug as ever, stepped up beside her.

“Hey,” Serena said softly, trying to steady her breath. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean for it to get that… chaotic.”

Carter grinned.

“Don’t apologize,” Carter says. “It’s the most fun this party’s had in years. You sure you don’t want to escape? I’ve got a plane leaving for Monaco in the morning.”

Serena smiled despite herself.

“I’ll pass,” Serena said. “I’ve had enough drama for one night.”

Behind them, Jenny crouched near the dressing area, straightening the torn edge of Blair’s gown. The girl’s hands shook as she tried to re-pin the fabric. Blair stood stiffly, eyes glassy but proud.

“Thanks,” Blair muttered. “You’re surprisingly handy with tulle for someone who shops at thrift stores.”

Jenny just nodded.

“You’re welcome,” Jenny says.

When Blair turned away, Pony whispered to me, “Jenny’s got guts. Half these girls wouldn’t even breathe the same air as Blair.”

“She’s got somethin’ those others don’t,” I said. “Heart.”

Out front, the night air cut cold. Dan was trying to slip away quietly, his tux jacket slung over his arm, when Lily caught up to him at the top of the steps. Darry, Soda, and I hung back by the marble railing, trying to look like we weren’t eavesdropping, though we absolutely were.

“Dan,” Lily called softly.

Dan froze, then turned.

“Oh, Mrs. Van der Woodsen…” Dan said.

“Lily,” Lily interrupted gently. “Call me Lily.”

Dan blinked.

“Uh… okay,” Dan said. “Lily.”

Lily stepped closer, her tone softening.

“I wanted to thank you,” Lily said. “Since Serena started seeing you, she’s been... different. Calmer. More responsible. Happier.”

Dan scratched the back of his neck.

“That’s… really nice to hear,” Dan said. “I think we kind of balance each other out.”

Lily smiled faintly.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Lily said. “You belong with her, Dan. Whether CeCe sees it or not.”

Soda leaned closer to me.

“Dang,” Soda said. “Didn’t see that comin’.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Me neither. Guess moms are full of surprises.”

Inside, CeCe and Serena stood apart from the rest, the tension almost visible.

“Grandma,” Serena said sharply, “you don’t have to pretend. You’re mad. Just say it.”

CeCe’s face stayed smooth.

“I’m disappointed, darling,” CeCe said. “There’s a difference.”

Serena folded her arms.

“I stood up for you tonight,” Serena said. “I defended you to Dan. And you lied to me. You’re not even sick, are you?”

CeCe blinked once, then gave a small, unapologetic smile.

“No,” CeCe said. “I’m not.”

Serena’s jaw dropped.

“Then why would you do that?” Serena asked. “Why lie?”

CeCe sighed, brushing invisible dust from her sleeve.

“Because, Serena, women like us don’t get to make the rules, not unless we earn the right,” Serena said. “And sometimes, the only way to earn that right is to play the game better than anyone else.”

Serena shook her head.

“Things aren’t the same anymore,” Serena said.

CeCe glanced over Serena’s shoulder. Dan stood at the doorway, hesitant but waiting. CeCe’s eyes softened just slightly.

“Perhaps you’re right about that,” CeCe said.

The music picked back up, soft and slow. Serena turned, her expression unreadable, and Dan held out his hand.

“May I?” Dan asked.

Serena smiled faintly.

“You may,” Serena said.

They swayed together under the dimmed chandelier light, the rest of the world fading out. For the first time all night, everything looked right. Even Dally, who’d been scowling most of the evening, cracked a grin.

“Guess the city ain’t all bad,” Dally muttered.

Two-Bit clinked his champagne glass against mine.

“To fights, lies, and awkward dances. Manhattan sure knows how to party,” Two-Bit said.

Across the room, Blair slipped out quietly, her white dress trailing like a ghost behind her. Outside, she found Nate waiting by the car, his eyes soft and sorry.

“Blair,” Nate said quietly.

Blair stopped.

“You came,” Blair said.

“Couldn’t stay away,” Nate said.

And before any more words could ruin it, they kissed. The kind of kiss that said maybe, just maybe, they weren’t done after all.

Chuck Bass watched from the shadows, face unreadable but eyes burning with something dangerous.

“Here we go again,” Johnny whispered.

I sighed.

“With this bunch?” I said. “It never ends.”

Later that night, Jenny burst into the art gallery, breathless, eyes shining with tears. The lights were already dimmed, people gone. Alison stood by a half-finished glass of wine, the room quiet except for the hum of the city outside.

“Mom,” Jenny said, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I know I missed it, but I’m really sorry.”

Alison turned, her face tired but kind.

“I accept your apology, Jen,” Alison said. “But that doesn’t make it okay.”

Jenny swallowed hard, nodding.

Behind them, Soda and Pony hovered near the door, unsure whether to go in.

“Kid’s got more heart than half the people we’ve met here,” Soda whispered.

Pony nodded quietly.

“She’s just tryin’ to belong,” Pony said.

The city outside glowed like always, beautiful and broken, full of stories that never really ended.

Back at the Van der Woodsen penthouse, Lily’s phone rang. She stepped onto the balcony and answered.

“Hello?” Lily said.

Rufus’s voice came through, low and steady.

“Lily,” Rufus said. “Your mother stopped by tonight. She told me why you really left New York back then. It wasn’t for someone else, was it?”

Lily froze, staring out at the skyline. The truth hung heavy between them, something too old and too complicated for the night to hold.

I looked around at the rest of the gang, Dally lighting a cigarette outside, Two-Bit humming some Sinatra tune he barely knew, Johnny sketching the ballroom in his little notebook.

For all the money and gossip swirling through this city, I realized we weren’t so different from them.

They had scandals, we had scars.

They hid behind secrets, we hid behind smoke.

But at the end of the night, both sides just wanted the same damn thing: to feel like we belonged.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26

Steve’s POV

The ballroom glowed like something out of a movie, chandeliers blazing, the floor polished until it reflected every pearl, every tuxedo shoe, every ounce of wealth that shimmered off the Upper East Side. For a bunch of Tulsa boys used to oil-stained streets and flickering streetlights, this might as well have been another planet.

I tugged at the cuff of my borrowed tux, well, not borrowed, more like sponsored. CeCe Rhodes had insisted on outfitting the whole gang after learning about our "small-town charm." Soda had nearly fainted when she mentioned the word custom.

“Man,” Two-Bit muttered, adjusting his bow tie like it was choking him. “If they got chandeliers this big, I’m scared to ask what the bathrooms look like.”

Johnny elbowed him.

“Behave,” Johnny said. “We’re guests, remember?”

“Guests or aliens?” Dally said with a smirk, leaning against the column near the champagne table. He looked like he owned the place, wild confidence wrapped in a tux. The kind of danger Manhattan girls weren’t used to but couldn’t look away from.

We watched as the Cotillion began. Serena floated in on Dan’s arm, golden, glowing, nervous. He looked out of place, sure, but proud.

“Kinda like watching someone walk through a dream they don’t think they belong in,” Pony murmured.

I nodded.

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s holding his own, though.”

CeCe, sitting in the front row like a queen on her throne, looked satisfied. Every flicker of camera flash caught her smile, polished, commanding. She gave Dan a single approving nod as he walked Serena toward the center of the floor.

Darry stood nearby with his hands folded behind his back, watching the whole thing unfold like he was on security duty instead of a guest. He couldn’t help it; it was in his nature to protect. He scanned the crowd like he expected trouble, even in a ballroom filled with diamonds and debutantes.

“Don’t tell me you’re expectin’ a rumble,” Soda teased him quietly.

Darry smirked.

“You never know,” Darry said.

The music shifted. The orchestra played a waltz so smooth it made the air shimmer. Blair appeared at the top of the staircase, radiant in white, poised next to Nate Archibald. The room broke into soft applause.

“Man, she looks like royalty,” Pony whispered.

“Yeah,” Johnny said softly. “But she’s got that look, like she’s tryin’ too hard not to think about someone.”

He was right. I followed her gaze for half a second, and sure enough, Chuck Bass was lurking in the back, a drink in hand, his expression unreadable but his eyes never leaving Blair.

Then it happened, the dance, the turn, the moment. Serena and Dan moved together across the floor, perfectly awkward, perfectly real. The other couples were picture-perfect, rehearsed, and rigid, but Serena and Dan were alive.

Two-Bit leaned toward me.

“They’re makin’ these fancy people look stiff as statues,” Two-Bit said.

“That’s ‘cause it’s real,” I said. “You can tell. They’re not thinkin’ about who’s watchin’.”

Just then, Jenny slipped in through the side door, breathless, defiant, and clearly not supposed to be there. Her hair was pinned up, her dress simple but stunning. Soda caught her eye and nodded, giving her a little grin of encouragement.

She mouthed thank you before vanishing into the crowd.

CeCe saw her immediately, lips tightening, but said nothing, not yet. Lily noticed, too, her face softening with conflict.

Meanwhile, the gossip hum in the room rose like a tide. Phones buzzed. The glint of light off a dozen screens made it clear: Gossip Girl was already on it.

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Well, well. Looks like a few debutantes aren’t the only ones making a scene tonight.

Tulsa trouble in tuxedos? The Greasers crash the Cotillion, and Upper East Side manners will never be the same.

And Jenny Humphrey? Guess she couldn’t resist a night among the pearls after all.”

Two-Bit whistled under his breath.

“Dang, we made the feed,” Two-Bit said.

Dally grinned.

“Guess that means we belong here after all,” Dally said.

Dan and Serena stopped dancing, laughing softly as the crowd clapped. CeCe looked like she might faint from pride or control. Blair’s dance with Nate ended, but the spark wasn’t there. Not like before.
The song faded, applause rolled through the ballroom, and the chaos of whispers replaced it. Nate stepped back to get some air. Blair turned, locking eyes with Chuck across the room, just a moment, but electric enough to burn through every crystal light.

Pony caught it, too.

“You see that?” Pony asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s trouble.”

Darry’s jaw clenched.

“And we’re stayin’ out of it,” Darry said.

We didn’t. We never did.

The next song started, slower, darker, and somewhere between the twirl of gowns and the flash of camera bulbs, Upper East Side drama and Tulsa grit collided again.

And me? I couldn’t shake the thought that somehow, we’d been folded into their story like background noise, a reminder that even in a ballroom this bright, there’s always a shadow following close behind.

The ballroom that had started the night glittering like a dream now looked like the aftermath of one. The air hung thick with whispers and perfume, music still playing somewhere in the background as people pretended everything was still picture-perfect, but everyone knew the truth.

A fight.

At Cotillion.

And somehow, the Tulsa boys were right in the middle of it.

“Dally, you couldn’t have picked a worse time to throw a punch,” Darry muttered as security shuffled people back into place.

“Hey,” Dally snapped, loosening his bow tie, “the guy was pushin’ Johnny. He grabbed his arm like he owned him. You don’t do that.”

Two-Bit laughed under his breath.

“Upper East Side or not, a Greaser’s a Greaser,” Two-Bit said.

I couldn’t help smirking even though my heart was still racing. The chandelier lights made everything feel like it was happening in slow motion. Serena was across the room with Lily, both of them red-faced and whispering too loudly for whispers.

Lily’s pearls trembled as she spoke.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Lily asked. “This was supposed to be a graceful evening, Serena.”

Serena crossed her arms. “Mom, it was one punch! You act like we burned the building down.”

Lily’s voice dropped sharply.

“You embarrassed me,” Lily said. “You embarrassed CeCe. You embarrassed yourself.”

Soda nudged me.

“Guess we ain’t the only ones in trouble tonight,” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Except when we fight, it’s usually in an alley. Not under a chandelier.”

Across the room, Serena pulled away from Lily, her eyes glassy. Carter Baizen, smug as ever, stepped up beside her.

“Hey,” Serena said softly, trying to steady her breath. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean for it to get that… chaotic.”

Carter grinned.

“Don’t apologize,” Carter says. “It’s the most fun this party’s had in years. You sure you don’t want to escape? I’ve got a plane leaving for Monaco in the morning.”

Serena smiled despite herself.

“I’ll pass,” Serena said. “I’ve had enough drama for one night.”

Behind them, Jenny crouched near the dressing area, straightening the torn edge of Blair’s gown. The girl’s hands shook as she tried to re-pin the fabric. Blair stood stiffly, eyes glassy but proud.

“Thanks,” Blair muttered. “You’re surprisingly handy with tulle for someone who shops at thrift stores.”

Jenny just nodded.

“You’re welcome,” Jenny says.

When Blair turned away, Pony whispered to me, “Jenny’s got guts. Half these girls wouldn’t even breathe the same air as Blair.”

“She’s got somethin’ those others don’t,” I said. “Heart.”

Out front, the night air cut cold. Dan was trying to slip away quietly, his tux jacket slung over his arm, when Lily caught up to him at the top of the steps. Darry, Soda, and I hung back by the marble railing, trying to look like we weren’t eavesdropping, though we absolutely were.

“Dan,” Lily called softly.

Dan froze, then turned.

“Oh, Mrs. Van der Woodsen…” Dan said.

“Lily,” Lily interrupted gently. “Call me Lily.”

Dan blinked.

“Uh… okay,” Dan said. “Lily.”

Lily stepped closer, her tone softening.

“I wanted to thank you,” Lily said. “Since Serena started seeing you, she’s been... different. Calmer. More responsible. Happier.”

Dan scratched the back of his neck.

“That’s… really nice to hear,” Dan said. “I think we kind of balance each other out.”

Lily smiled faintly.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Lily said. “You belong with her, Dan. Whether CeCe sees it or not.”

Soda leaned closer to me.

“Dang,” Soda said. “Didn’t see that comin’.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Me neither. Guess moms are full of surprises.”

Inside, CeCe and Serena stood apart from the rest, the tension almost visible.

“Grandma,” Serena said sharply, “you don’t have to pretend. You’re mad. Just say it.”

CeCe’s face stayed smooth.

“I’m disappointed, darling,” CeCe said. “There’s a difference.”

Serena folded her arms.

“I stood up for you tonight,” Serena said. “I defended you to Dan. And you lied to me. You’re not even sick, are you?”

CeCe blinked once, then gave a small, unapologetic smile.

“No,” CeCe said. “I’m not.”

Serena’s jaw dropped.

“Then why would you do that?” Serena asked. “Why lie?”

CeCe sighed, brushing invisible dust from her sleeve.

“Because, Serena, women like us don’t get to make the rules, not unless we earn the right,” Serena said. “And sometimes, the only way to earn that right is to play the game better than anyone else.”

Serena shook her head.

“Things aren’t the same anymore,” Serena said.

CeCe glanced over Serena’s shoulder. Dan stood at the doorway, hesitant but waiting. CeCe’s eyes softened just slightly.

“Perhaps you’re right about that,” CeCe said.

The music picked back up, soft and slow. Serena turned, her expression unreadable, and Dan held out his hand.

“May I?” Dan asked.

Serena smiled faintly.

“You may,” Serena said.

They swayed together under the dimmed chandelier light, the rest of the world fading out. For the first time all night, everything looked right. Even Dally, who’d been scowling most of the evening, cracked a grin.

“Guess the city ain’t all bad,” Dally muttered.

Two-Bit clinked his champagne glass against mine.

“To fights, lies, and awkward dances. Manhattan sure knows how to party,” Two-Bit said.

Across the room, Blair slipped out quietly, her white dress trailing like a ghost behind her. Outside, she found Nate waiting by the car, his eyes soft and sorry.

“Blair,” Nate said quietly.

Blair stopped.

“You came,” Blair said.

“Couldn’t stay away,” Nate said.

And before any more words could ruin it, they kissed. The kind of kiss that said maybe, just maybe, they weren’t done after all.

Chuck Bass watched from the shadows, face unreadable but eyes burning with something dangerous.

“Here we go again,” Johnny whispered.

I sighed.

“With this bunch?” I said. “It never ends.”

Later that night, Jenny burst into the art gallery, breathless, eyes shining with tears. The lights were already dimmed, people gone. Alison stood by a half-finished glass of wine, the room quiet except for the hum of the city outside.

“Mom,” Jenny said, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I know I missed it, but I’m really sorry.”

Alison turned, her face tired but kind.

“I accept your apology, Jen,” Alison said. “But that doesn’t make it okay.”

Jenny swallowed hard, nodding.

Behind them, Soda and Pony hovered near the door, unsure whether to go in.

“Kid’s got more heart than half the people we’ve met here,” Soda whispered.

Pony nodded quietly.

“She’s just tryin’ to belong,” Pony said.

The city outside glowed like always, beautiful and broken, full of stories that never really ended.

Back at the Van der Woodsen penthouse, Lily’s phone rang. She stepped onto the balcony and answered.

“Hello?” Lily said.

Rufus’s voice came through, low and steady.

“Lily,” Rufus said. “Your mother stopped by tonight. She told me why you really left New York back then. It wasn’t for someone else, was it?”

Lily froze, staring out at the skyline. The truth hung heavy between them, something too old and too complicated for the night to hold.

I looked around at the rest of the gang, Dally lighting a cigarette outside, Two-Bit humming some Sinatra tune he barely knew, Johnny sketching the ballroom in his little notebook.

For all the money and gossip swirling through this city, I realized we weren’t so different from them.

They had scandals, we had scars.

They hid behind secrets, we hid behind smoke.

But at the end of the night, both sides just wanted the same damn thing: to feel like we belonged.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

Dally’s POV

Snowflakes were comin’ down soft that morning, quieting the city in a way I didn’t think was possible. Back in Tulsa, snow meant busted pipes and burnin’ trash barrels, but here, it made the whole damn place look like a movie set.

We were standin’ out front of Constance Billard with coffee cups from the corner cart, watchin’ as a choir of girls in plaid skirts and perfect posture sang “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” Their voices bounced off the marble steps like glass bells.

Jenny Humphrey was up front, face bright and proud. Kid had pipes, I’ll give her that.

Two-Bit elbowed me.

“Think she’d sing at our Christmas party if I asked real nice?” Two-Bit teased.

Pony rolled his eyes.

“You’d need an actual party first,” Pony said.

I snorted into my coffee.

“And a tree that ain’t missin’ half its branches,” I said.

The girls finished their song, and the crowd clapped politely. Banners fluttered above the stalls set up for the school bazaar: tinsel, cookies, and overpriced crafts. Serena and Dan were meanderin’ down one of the aisles, laughin’ at every other booth like they didn’t have a care in the world. For a second, it felt good to see someone happy.

Serena stopped by a table selling antique junk, candlesticks, and a butter churn that looked older than Darry’s work boots.

“Oh, Dan, look,” Serena said, trying not to laugh. “You need this. You can churn your own butter for those waffles you make.”

Dan leaned in, grinning.

“You’re joking, right?” Dan teased.

Serena picked it up, mock serious.

“It’s an antique!” Serena said. “It’ll add character to your loft.”

“Yeah,” Dan said, smirking. “Because nothing says romance like fermented dairy.”

Soda and Pony were close enough to overhear, trying not to crack up. Soda leaned over to me.

“A butter churn, huh?” Soda murmured. “Sounds like somethin’ Darry’d actually buy for the apartment.”

Darry shot him a look.

“At least I’d use it,” Darry retorted.

Before Serena could answer, Vanessa walked up, bundled in a wool coat and scarf, her smile warm but nervous.

“Hey,” Vanessa said. “Merry Christmas.”

Dan’s eyes lit up.

“Vanessa!” Dan said. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

“I had to drop this off,” Vanessa said as she handed him a rolled-up magazine, tied with red ribbon.

Dan unwrapped it, frowning.

“The New Yorker?” Dan asked.

“Page forty-two,” Vanessa said, grinning like she knew something.

Dan flipped through it, eyes widening.

“Oh my god…,” Dan said. “They, they published my story. In the Twenty Under Twenty section.”

Serena’s smile froze for a split second before she caught herself.

“Dan, that’s amazing!” Serena said.

Vanessa laughed softly.

“I knew they would,” Vanessa said. “You’re kind of impossible not to notice.”

Pony elbowed me.

“She’s got that look,” Pony said. “The one Cherry used to get when she was tryin’ to act like she didn’t care.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Jealousy in fur and lip gloss. Classic.”

Jenny bounded over after her choir set, still glowing.

“You guys!” Jenny said. “You’re not gonna believe how good we sounded.”

“Sounded great, Jen,” Soda said, giving her a friendly nod. “You look like you were born for this.”

Jenny blushed.

“Thanks,” Jenny said. “You think so?”

Darry smiled faintly.

“You’ve got confidence, kid,” Darry said. “That counts for a lot.”

Then Gossip Girl’s voice floated through the air, blasting from someone’s phone speakers nearby:

“Spotted: J. Humphrey hitting all the right notes this holiday season, and her brother scoring more than just applause. Seems V gave D a present that S wasn’t expecting. Merry Christmas, Upper East Side. Hope you brought popcorn.”

Soda groaned.

“She’s fast, huh?” Soda said.

Johnny shrugged.

“Faster than Pony on an essay deadline,” Johnny said.

Pony glared, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

The whole scene looked picture-perfect: snow, laughter, the smell of roasted chestnuts, but under it all, you could feel the cracks forming. Dan was caught between two girls who didn’t belong in the same sentence. Serena was smiling too big to hide the sting. Jenny was shining, but hungry for something more.

And me? I stood there, hands jammed in my coat pockets, watching the Upper East Side play out its Christmas fantasy like a snow globe you couldn’t shake too hard without breaking.

Darry nudged me.

“You alright, Dal?” Darry asked.

I nodded, eyes on the choir warming up for another round.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just never thought I’d see this kind of Christmas up close.”

Darry smiled a little.

“Different from Tulsa, huh?” Darry said.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “But maybe not as different as they think.”

Because even in all that glitter and good cheer, I could see it, the same look we all had when we wanted more than the world we’d been handed.

And that, I figured, didn’t belong to any one side of town.

The bazaar was still buzzing, kids laughing, rich parents pretending they didn’t mind the cold, the smell of cinnamon and espresso hanging in the air like some fancy movie scene. We were still wandering between booths when a yellow cab screeched up to the curb in front of the school.

Alison and Rufus climbed out, bundled in coats, mid-argument, voices low, but not low enough.

“Thirty-two dollars for a cab ride!” Rufus said, holding the door open like it personally offended him. “We could’ve taken the subway for two bucks.”

Alison crossed her arms, slamming the door behind her.

“And wait in the cold for half an hour?” Alison retorted. “I’d rather pay the thirty-two and keep my toes.”

Two-Bit elbowed me, smirking.

“They bicker worse than Darry and Soda on rent day,” Two-Bit teased.

“Yeah,” I muttered, “except these two probably got a heated bathroom.”

We watched as they joined the crowd by the bazaar tables, brushing snow off their coats. Alison’s eyes darted across the courtyard and then froze.

Because walking toward them, hand in hand, was Lily Van Der Woodsen, looking like a damn Vogue ad in a cream coat, and Bart Bass, slick as oil in an expensive overcoat and scarf. The kind of couple that made the rest of the street fade behind ‘em.

Lily noticed the Humphreys first. Her smile faltered, just a bit. Bart looked between them, polite but cold.

“Rufus. Alison,” Lily said, tone bright but brittle. “How… festive.”

“Lily,” Rufus said evenly. “Bart.”

Bart nodded.

“Rufus,” Bart said.

For a second, nobody said a thing. You could practically hear the sleigh bells dying in the distance.

Then Bart slipped a hand to the small of Lily’s back.

“We should head inside,” Bart murmured. “Don’t want to be late for the meeting with the board.”

Lily smiled thinly.

“Of course,” Lily said. “Lovely seeing you both.”

They disappeared into the crowd.

Alison’s jaw tightened.

“Well, would you look at that?” Alison said. “Lily found her next billionaire. Guess she’s keeping the family business alive.”

Rufus frowned.

“Alison…” Rufus said.

“What?” Alison snapped, eyes still locked on the door Lily vanished through. “You think I didn’t notice? She goes through men like most people go through handbags.”

Soda let out a quiet whistle.

“Dang,” Soda said. “That woman’s got bite.”

Darry crossed his arms.

“She’s jealous,” Darry said. “And not just of Lily.”

I shrugged.

“Can’t say I blame her,” I said. “That Bass guy looks like the type who measures worth in how loud his cufflinks clink.”

“You think he’s worse than Dally?” Johnny snorted.

I grinned.

“Yeah,” I said. “At least I’m honest about being trouble.”

Inside the school, the temperature changed, warmer, quieter, full of that uptown money comfort. Gold tinsel glinted from every corner, and parents mingled with the kind of smiles that looked like they cost extra.

Lily stood by a coffee station, pretending to examine a plate of sugar cookies. Bart hovered beside her, calm as ever.

“Well,” Lily said finally, taking a breath, “that was awkward.”

Bart adjusted his cufflinks, voice low and steady.

“It wouldn’t have been if you’d told them why we were together,” Bart said.

Lily turned sharply, eyes narrowing.

“Bart, this isn’t exactly the time or the place,” Lily said.

“Maybe not,” Bart said. “But secrets have a way of slipping out in this town. Especially when half of it worships that blog.”

Right on cue, someone’s phone dinged nearby. A girl gasped. And then another. A dozen heads turned.

Gossip Girl had struck again.

“Spotted: L and B making their holiday debut. Looks like the Bass is hooked, but what will R think when he finds out she’s been playing both sides of the river? And look who’s watching from the cheap seats, those Tulsa boys, proving you don’t need cash to keep up with scandal. XOXO.”

Two-Bit burst out laughing so loud that everyone turned.

“Cheap seats, huh?” Two-Bit said. “Guess that’s an upgrade from ‘trailer trash.’”

Pony covered his face.

“Oh my god, they actually mentioned us,” Pony moaned.

Darry rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“We’ve been in this city five minutes and already we’re part of some blog war,” Darry muttered.

Steve grinned.

“Hey, at least they didn’t say nothin’ about us fightin’ at Cotillion,” Steve said.

I smirked.

“Give it time,” I said. “It’s only Monday.”

Back outside, Rufus and Alison were still standing by the coffee booth. Alison was quiet now, staring into her paper cup. Rufus leaned against the railing, eyes on the snow.

“You ever think,” Rufus said, “that maybe we got dragged into the wrong kind of world?”

Alison looked up.

“You mean this?” Alison asked.

Rufus nodded toward the glittering bazaar behind them.

“All of it,” Rufus said. “Feels like a fairytale, one where we ain’t the heroes.”

Soda walked past them, his scarf trailing.

“Welcome to the club,” Soda muttered under his breath.

Darry chuckled.

“He ain’t wrong,” Darry said. “None of us fit here.”

But watching Serena laugh with Dan near the butter churn table again, or Jenny still glowing from the choir’s applause, I wondered if that was really true. Maybe you didn’t have to fit to matter here. Maybe sometimes, standing out was the whole damn point.

And as another carol started up, “Silent Night” this time, I caught myself watching those Upper East Siders like they were another species entirely.

But under the snow, under the noise, they weren’t so different.

Just people trying to look happy in the cold.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28

Johnny’s POV

The snow had started falling again, thicker this time, big, slow flakes drifting down over the school courtyard, coating everything in silver. The bazaar was winding down, parents clutching hot cocoa and kids dragging their shopping bags toward town cars idling at the curb.

Dally flicked the last of his cigarette into a snowbank.

“Whole place smells like nutmeg and money,” Dally muttered.

Two-Bit grinned.

“That’s Manhattan Christmas for ya,” Two-Bit said.

We were leaning against the stone steps, trying not to look too out of place, when Blair Waldorf came clicking down the hall in her red coat and heels that didn’t look meant for slush. She spotted Lily Van der Woodsen and Bart Bass near the school doors, looking like the cover of ‘Town & Country’, perfect posture, perfect smiles, perfect lie.

“Lily! Bart!” Blair said, her voice sugary but polished. “Happy holidays! I didn’t think you were in town, Bart.”

Bart smiled that polite, unreadable smile of his.

“Business kept me here this year,” Bart said.

Blair nodded, clutching an oversized candy cane taller than her, like it was part of the outfit.

“Well, I’m so glad!” Blair said. “It’s so festive to see you both together.”

Blair waved and turned before they could answer, typing on her phone as her heels clicked down the marble steps.

Pony nudged me.

“Who carries a candy cane that big?” Pony asked.

“Somebody who wants attention but already has too much,” Two-Bit deadpanned.

Blair’s phone chimed as she texted. I caught a flash of the screen before she tucked it close:

To: Chuck Bass

‘Is Monaco still happening, or are you backing out again?’

Dally let out a short laugh.

“Man, even her texts sound expensive,” Dally said.

Before Blair could take another step, Serena van der Woodsen came jogging out the doors after her, golden hair bouncing, scarf trailing like a ribbon.

“Blair!” Serena called. “Where are you running off to?”

Blair glanced up, impatient.

“I can’t talk, S,” Blair said. “I’m already late picking up my father from the airport.”

Serena grinned, eyeing the massive candy cane.

“With that?” Serena teased. “What are you gonna do, knock him out with holiday spirit?”

Blair sighed.

“It’s a gift, not a weapon,” Blair said.

Serena smirked.

“You sure about that?” Serena asked.

Blair rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself.

“He landed from Paris twenty minutes ago,” Blair said. “He’s probably wondering if I’ve been hit by a reindeer.”

Serena looped her arm through Blair’s and started walking toward the street. We trailed behind them out of instinct; you couldn’t help but watch those two when they were together. They looked like opposites carved from the same kind of loneliness.

At the curb, Serena waved down a cab, arm outstretched, voice cheerful against the whir of city noise.

“So, what are you getting Dan for Christmas?” Blair asked without looking up, still flagging traffic.

Serena sighed.

“I don’t know,” Serena said. “Vanessa gave him something really thoughtful, and now I feel like I have to top it.”

Blair tilted her head.

“Hmm,” Blair said. “You could always buy him a new outfit for Cedric.”

Serena blinked.

“Who’s Cedric?” Serena asked.

Blair smirked.

“Dan’s Cabbage Patch doll,” Blair said. “His other baby.”

Two-Bit snorted so loud Serena turned her head.

“That’s real?” Two-Bit said. “The guy’s got a doll?”

Soda grinned.

“Aw, come on, Two-Bit,” Soda said. “Even tough guys got soft spots.”

Dally leaned against the lamppost, grinning.

“Not me,” Dally said.

“Sure,” Darry said dryly. “You cried when that little kid in the toy drive hugged you last week.”

“Shut up,” Dally muttered, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.

A yellow cab finally swerved to the curb, spraying slush on the pavement. Blair yanked the door open, balancing her candy cane like a sword.

“Well,” Blair said, “wish me luck. I’ll call you later about Christmas plans.”

Serena laughed.

“Tell your dad welcome home, and maybe hide the candy cane till after customs,” Serena said.

Blair smirked, ducked into the cab, and slammed the door. The taxi sped off down the snowy avenue, red taillights fading into the glitter of holiday lights.

Serena lingered for a moment, arms crossed, watching the cab disappear. There was something wistful in her eyes, like she envied Blair’s certainty, even if it was all pretense.

Then Serena’s phone buzzed. She glanced down, sighed, and smiled a little.

Probably Dan.

“You ever notice how everyone here’s either runnin’ away or waitin’ on somebody?” Pony said quietly.

Darry nodded.

“City full of ghosts that ain’t dead yet,” Darry said.

Two-Bit looked up.

“That’s poetic, man,” Two-Bit said.

Pony shrugged.

“Guess I learned from the best,” Pony said.

I smiled a little at that. For all the marble and money, the city still had the same ache I remembered from Tulsa, only this time it was wrapped in silk and snow instead of smoke.

Then a dozen phones dinged around us, and sure enough, the next Gossip Girl blast echoed from every glowing screen.

“Spotted: B with a candy cane and a one-way ticket to family drama. Word is Daddy Waldorf’s flying in from Paris, and she’s armed with sugar and secrets. Meanwhile, S still hasn’t picked a present for D, maybe because she’s not sure what he wants. And look who’s watching from the sidelines: those Tulsa boys, bringing street smarts to Fifth Avenue. XOXO.”

Two-Bit lifted his phone and grinned.

“We’re celebrities now,” Two-Bit said.

Dally rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, till she finds out we ain’t got MySpace,” Dally said.

Soda laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Dal, you’re Gossip Girl famous,” Soda said. “That’s gotta count for somethin’.”

I glanced back toward the street, the cab already gone, the city lights flickering like Christmas ghosts. Somewhere, a choir started singing again, the same carols, a different verse.

And I thought maybe this place wasn’t so different from back home after all. Just another town full of people trying to find someone who’ll notice when they leave.

By the time we reached the Waldorf penthouse, the snow was falling thicker, like somebody had shaken the city upside down and let it all come loose.

CeCe had insisted the whole Tulsa gang help out with decorations since we were “honored guests” for the cotillion weekend. So there we were, six greasers and a bunch of Waldorf house staff stringing lights across the walls of an Upper East Side penthouse that looked like it came straight off a Christmas card.

Soda was testing a set of twinkling lights by the door.

“Hey, these things actually work,” Soda said, surprised.

Darry smirked.

“Yeah, ‘cause you didn’t steal ‘em from a gas station this time,” Darry said.

Two-Bit was halfway up a ladder, hanging mistletoe he’d “borrowed” from CeCe’s floral delivery.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Two-Bit said. “This stuff’s magic.”

“Yeah,” Dally muttered, “for gettin’ slapped.”

I tried not to laugh, but it slipped out anyway, that quiet kind that fogged in the cold air drifting from the balcony doors.

Before any of us could say more, the elevator bell chimed. Blair burst out, still clutching that giant candy cane like a victory flag. She practically glowed, nerves, excitement, maybe both.

“Dorota!” Blair called, kicking off her boots. “They landed early!”

Eleanor Waldorf swept in from the dining room, voice crisp and tight like her tailored suit.

“Blair, slow down,” Eleanor said. “Your father will be up in a moment. And do try to remember your composure.”

Blair froze for a second, adjusted her headband, then took a deep breath and smoothed her skirt.

“Composed,” Blair said.

Two seconds later, the elevator doors slid open again, and Harold Waldorf stepped out, beaming, tan from the Paris winter, scarf perfectly knotted. And right beside him, Roman, tall and smiling, arms full of wrapped gifts.

“Papa!” Blair squealed, running forward and throwing her arms around him.

“Mon chéri,” Harold said, laughing as he hugged her back. “Look at you! You’ve grown more beautiful every time I see you.”

Eleanor crossed her arms.

“You saw her last month, Harold,” Eleanor said.

Harold smiled politely.

“Then she’s beautiful-er,” Harold said.

Roman chuckled softly.

“Bonjour, Blair,” Roman said. “You remember me, yes?”

Blair hesitated only a beat before smiling.

“Of course I do, Roman,” Blair said. “You brought me those chocolate truffles from Saint-Germain.”

Roman’s eyes sparkled.

“And this time, I brought twice as many,” Roman said.

Blair laughed, the real kind, not her society smile.

Eleanor, though, stiffened. You could feel the air change. Even Soda shifted a little, glancing between them.

“How nice that you both could make it,” Eleanor said coolly.

Roman stepped forward, extending his hand.

“Eleanor, you look radiant,” Roman said.

Eleanor took it, just barely.

“And you…Look very European,” Eleanor said.

“That’s rich-lady talk for ‘I don’t like you,” Dally said under his breath.

Darry gave him a sharp elbow.

Blair spun toward us then, noticing we’d been quiet witnesses the whole time.

“Oh … boys!” Blair said. “You’re still here. Thank you for helping Dorota with the lights. Everything looks perfect.”

Two-Bit bowed exaggeratedly.

“At your service, Princess Waldorf,” Two-Bit said.

Eleanor blinked at him like he’d just materialized out of nowhere.

“And these are…?” Eleanor said.

She obviously didn’t remember us from Thanksgiving.

Blair smiled a little too widely.

“Oh, um, CeCe’s friends from Tulsa,” Blair said. “They’re helping because of strings CeCe pulled for Cotillion.”

Roman grinned.

“Ah, les garçons d'Oklahoma!” Roman said. “I have heard about you.”

Two-Bit winked.

“All good things, I hope,” Two-Bit said.
Roman laughed.

“Of course,” Roman said. “CeCe said you bring the heart to the city.”

“She say anything about us bringin’ muscle too?” Dally muttered.

Roman laughed again, apparently taking it as a joke.

Harold looked around the room, admiring the garlands.

“It’s beautiful,” Harold said. “Just like home.”

“Except with fewer surprises,” Eleanor said.

Harold turned to her, softening.

“Eleanor…” Harold said.

Blair cut in quickly.

“Why don’t we all sit?” Blair said. “There’s cocoa and gingerbread.”

We hung back near the wall, trying not to look like we didn’t belong, though the truth was, we never would’ve dreamed of standing in a place like that, chandelier light scattering off crystal ornaments, the city glittering through the window behind them.

“You ever think we’d end up hangin’ Christmas lights for people who drink cocoa outta china cups?” Soda whispered to me.

I shook my head.

“Not in a million years,” I said.

Blair sat on the couch between Harold and Roman, beaming.

“So, how long are you staying?” Blair asked.

Harold exchanged a glance with Roman.

“Through Christmas,” Harold said. “Maybe New Year’s, if that’s alright.”

Blair’s face lit up like the tree beside her.

“It’s more than alright,” Blair said.

Eleanor smiled tightly.

“Yes, well, we’ll see how it goes,” Eleanor said.

The tension sat there like frost on glass, quiet but sharp. Even Pony felt it; I could see him twisting his ring nervously.

That’s when Gossip Girl’s voice cut through in my head; you could practically hear her smirk as the blast hit every phone in the penthouse.

“Spotted: Blair Waldorf welcoming Daddy home for the holidays, with one surprise guest from Paris. Looks like this Christmas, the stockings aren’t the only things getting stuffed… with drama. And who do we spy helping trim the Waldorf tree? The Tulsa boys, spreading cheer one awkward family reunion at a time. XOXO — Gossip Girl.”

Two-Bit checked his phone and snorted.

“She doesn’t miss a thing, huh?” Two-Bit said.

Blair shot us an apologetic look.

“Sorry, boys,” Blair said. “Gossip Girl never sleeps.”

Dally smirked.

“Neither do we,” Dally said.

Roman smiled gently.

“Then you’ll fit right in here,” Roman said.

For a second, just a second, it actually felt like maybe we did.

Blair leaned her head on her father’s shoulder, eyes half closed, like she’d finally exhaled after holding her breath all year.

And I thought, sometimes family ain’t about who’s sittin’ where. It’s who stays in the room when it gets quiet.

Outside, snow kept falling past the glass, city lights glowing softly through it. And somewhere below, the city moved on, never knowing six greasers were standing in the corner of the Waldorf penthouse watching a girl finally get her Christmas wish.

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.

Chapter Text

Chapter 30

Soda’s POV

The sky outside was bruised with twilight when Rufus Humphrey pushed through the door of a dim Brooklyn bar.

The place smelled like old whiskey and jukebox dust, the kind of joint where people went to forget, not to talk.

I knew that look on Rufus’s face before he even said a word, the jaw tight, the kind of stare a man gets when he’s done being patient. We were there because Darry figured we’d grab food before heading home from school, but the second we saw Rufus stalking across the room toward a guy in a denim jacket at the bar, we knew it wasn’t gonna be a calm night.

“That’s Alex,” Steve whispered, nursing his root beer. “The guy Alison had that thing with back in Hudson.”

Dally smirked.

“Guess the husband finally caught up,” Dally said.

Rufus didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“You, Alex?” Rufus asked, voice low but sharp.

Alex looked up, confused for about half a second.

“Yeah, who’s asking?” Alex asked cautiously.

“Rufus Humphrey,” Rufus said. “Alison’s husband.”

Alex’s face paled just a little.

“Oh,” Alex said, straightening on his stool. “Look, man…”

“No,” Rufus cut him off, stepping in closer. “You sent a letter. To our home. Where my kids live.”

Darry shifted behind me, ready to move if it turned ugly. The air around us went still, like the city had stopped breathing for a second.

Alex held up both hands.

“Hey, calm down,” Alex said. “I didn’t mean any harm. Alison and I…”

“...are over,” Rufus snapped. “She told you that. She wants you to leave her alone.”

Alex frowned.

“That’s not what she said a couple of days ago,” Alex said.

That stopped Rufus cold. His shoulders went rigid, eyes narrowing. For a second, nobody spoke, not even Dally, which told you just how tense it was.

Then Rufus gave a bitter half-smile.

“You know what, Alex?” Rufus said. “Believe whatever story you want. But if another letter shows up at my house, I’m coming back here. And next time, we won’t talk.”

Rufus tossed a few bills on the bar for his untouched drink and walked out into the cold.

Darry nodded toward the door.

“C’mon, boys,” Darry said quietly. “Show’s over.”

Two-Bit whistled low once we were outside.

“Man, even the parents got drama here,” Two-Bit said.

“Welcome to Manhattan,” Dally muttered. “Ain’t nobody clean.”

The city wind cut down the avenue, sharp and biting, but somewhere beyond the noise, you could still hear the faint laughter from Central Park’s rink.

The gang and I ended up there not long after, Darry said it’d do us good to breathe air that wasn’t charged with somebody else’s tension. The lights around the rink glowed softly and white, like Christmas had been poured out across the ice. Couples skated hand in hand. Kids laughed, their scarves flying. The city felt almost peaceful for once.

Almost.

Because in the middle of that postcard scene was Blair Waldorf, standing at the rink’s edge, arms folded, eyes narrowed like the whole place had offended her.

Roman and Harold, her dad and his boyfriend, were out on the ice, laughing, trying to stay upright.

Blair wasn’t laughing.

She was glaring.

“She looks like she’s about to bite someone,” Steve said, leaning on the railing beside me.

“Probably the boyfriend,” I muttered. “Or her dad for bringin’ him.”

Roman waved toward Blair, calling something in French, motioning for her to join them. She barely moved. Instead, she pulled out her phone and started texting, probably Chuck. Her thumbs moved quickly, like her words were bullets.

Johnny leaned over.

“Think she’s mad her dad’s happy?” Johnny asked.

“Think she’s mad she ain’t in control,” Darry said quietly. “Some people don’t know how to share good things.”

Blair finally sighed, stepping onto the ice like it was a battlefield. Roman beamed, skating over, wobbling like a kid.

“Come on, Blair!” Roman called. “You give me a lesson, yes?”

BLair smiled sweetly, which, if you knew Blair, was never a good sign, then gestured for him to come closer.

Roman glided forward.

And right when he reached her, Blair shifted her skate just so.

Down he went, legs in the air, arms flailing, smacking the ice with a thud.

The crowd gasped. Blair just blinked innocently.

“Oops,” Blair said.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

“Man, she’s got a mean streak,” I said. “Reminds me of Dally.”

Dally grinned.

“Kid’s got potential,” Dally said.

Harold hurried to help Roman up, shaking his head.

“Blair!” Harold said, trying not to laugh. “You didn’t…?”

Blair’s expression was all sugar.

“Of course not, Daddy,” Blair said.

Johnny chuckled under his breath.

“She totally did,” Johnny said.

Two-Bit fished out his phone, pretending to narrate:

“Spotted: B taking out competition on the ice, and not metaphorically this time,” Two-Bit said.

Right on cue, everyone’s phones buzzed, for real this time.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST — 5:47 p.m.]

Spotted: B Waldorf showing off her killer instinct on the rink, one slip, one trip, and down goes Daddy’s new man. Some girls can’t help but make an entrance. Others? Prefer sabotage.
XOXO, Gossip Girl.

I laughed so hard I nearly slipped off the bench.

“Oh man,” I said. “She didn’t even make it five minutes before Gossip Girl clocked her.”

Darry just shook his head.

“Different kind of war out here,” Darry said. “They don’t fight with fists, they fight with smiles.”

The cold stung my cheeks, and somewhere behind us, Roman was back on his feet, laughing, holding Harold’s hand like none of it mattered. Maybe that’s what got to Blair most, that he wasn’t angry, that he was just… happy.

I looked around at my brothers, Dally lighting a smoke despite the “No Smoking” signs, Johnny watching the ice like he was seeing something softer in it, Two-Bit trying to teach a kid nearby how to slide on sneakers instead of skates.

And I realized, even in all this glitter and gossip, we still stuck out, Tulsa carved into a city that didn’t know what to do with us.

But somehow, we belonged anyway.

And if Gossip Girl was watching?

Well, let her.

We’d give her something worth writing about.

Back at the Waldorf penthouse…

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, spilling us into the Waldorf penthouse, all marble floors and crystal light, like a jewelry box come to life. We’d ended up there because CeCe had decided we “should learn to appreciate the finer things”, and somehow that had turned into helping Eleanor Waldorf carry shopping bags upstairs from her car.

Which meant we were front row for the latest Waldorf family storm.

Blair stormed in ahead of her mother, her fur-trimmed coat still on, the faint trace of cold air following her. Her voice was sharp enough to cut glass.

“So that’s it, then,” Blair whined. “He’s staying at the hospital with him.”

Eleanor stepped out of the elevator behind her, serene as ever.

“Roman took quite a tumble, Blair,” Eleanor said. “Your father wanted to make sure he’s comfortable.”

Blair turned, her eyes blazing.

“We were supposed to have tea at the Carlyle, Mother,” Blair said. “Tea. I had a table reserved. A perfect afternoon planned. And now everything is ruined.”

Blair kicked off her skates dramatically, one thudding against the polished floor. Dally, leaning against the marble wall, gave a low whistle.

“Guess they don’t take disappointment well up here,” Dally said.

Two-Bit grinned.

“Reminds me of Pony when we run outta chocolate cake,” Two-Bit teased.

I elbowed him, but even Eleanor cracked a smile.

“Gentlemen,” Eleanor said, “perhaps you could put those bags in the kitchen instead of enjoying our little domestic moment.”

Darry took the hint, motioning for us to move the armful of shopping bags toward the other room, though none of us went too far. Drama in this house was better than TV.

Blair spun back toward her mom, arms crossed.

“He’s making me the villain again,” Blair said. “Roman slips and suddenly I’m the one who’s selfish.”

Eleanor sighed, unbuttoning her coat.

“Darling, you did trip him,” Eleanor said.

Blair froze.

“That was an accident,” Blair argued.

“Of course it was,” Eleanor said smoothly, not bothering to hide her smirk. “But even accidents have consequences.”

Pony leaned toward me.

“Man, this lady’s got a tongue sharper than a switchblade,” Pony whispered.

Eleanor turned toward the couch, setting her purse down, perfectly calm.

“Honestly, Blair, Roman isn’t so bad,” Eleanro said. “He’s kind, funny, and…”

Blair rolled her eyes.

“He’s a homewrecker,” Blair said. “He stole Dad from you.”

Eleanor raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, Roman wasn’t always so innocent,” Eleanor said.

That got Blair’s attention. She stopped pacing.

“What do you mean?” Blair asked.

Eleanor smiled faintly, the kind of smile that held stories no one had permission to hear.

“When I first met Roman, he was dating a model,” Eleanor said. “Handsome, charming, but a complete scoundrel.”

“Freddy,” Eleanor said after a pause. “Yes. Freddy.”

Blair narrowed her eyes, almost suspicious.

“Freddy who?” Blair asked.

Before Eleanor could answer, Dally, lounging by the counter, chimed in, “I know a Freddy from downtown, dresses sharp, drives a red convertible, and owes a bookie four hundred bucks. Same guy, maybe?”

Eleanor blinked, caught off guard, and Blair’s head whipped toward Dally like a hawk spotting prey.

“Wait, what did you say?” Blair asked.

“I said he owes…” Dally said.

“Convertible,” Blair interrupted. “Red convertible? Did it have Monaco plates?”

“Could’ve,” Dally said with a shrug. “Didn’t ask for his ID.”

Eleanor frowned now, suddenly uneasy.

“Dally, dear, I don’t think…” Eleanor said.

Blair wasn’t listening. She was already reaching for her phone.

“Unbelievable,” Blair muttered.

Pony, leaning over the couch, whispered, “Uh oh. Someone’s about to get exposed.”

Two-Bit grinned.

“We might end up in another Gossip Girl blast before dinner,” Two-Bit said.

And as if summoned, all our phones buzzed at once, lighting up with that familiar golden G icon.

Gossip Girl Blast:

Spotted: B Waldorf storming back into her penthouse, armed with a new lead and an old name. Could there be trouble in paradise for Daddy’s perfect French fling? Seems some secrets are more slippery than ice. And looks like the Tulsa crew’s found themselves right in the middle of the fallout.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Blair glared at us, mostly at Dally, like we were suddenly responsible for all her problems.

“This is why I don’t talk to anyone,” Blair hissed, spinning on her heel toward her room. “Because the universe insists on humiliating me.”

Eleanor pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something in French under her breath.

“I should’ve raised her in Paris,” Eleanor said.

Darry crossed his arms.

“She’d have still found someone to argue with,” Darry said dryly.

Eleanor gave him a tired smile.

“You’re probably right, Mr. Curtis,” Eleanor said. “But at least there she’d have done it in couture.”

The elevator doors slid open again, and a deliveryman stepped out with a bouquet of white roses, one of them tinted red in the center. Eleanor took them, her face unreadable.

Dally grinned.

“Who’re those from?” Dally asked.

Eleanor looked at the card, her expression tightening.

“Roman,” Eleanor said softly. “Apologizing.”

Blair’s voice came from down the hall.

“Tell him to send bandages next time!” Blair said.

We all looked at each other, half stifling laughter, half unsure whether to run.

And for the first time that day, even Eleanor laughed, a tired, genuine sound that filled the penthouse like a sigh of relief.

“You boys,” Eleanor said, shaking her head, “have no idea how much trouble you’ve caused.”

Dally grinned.

“Lady, that’s what we do best,” Dally said.

Chapter Text

Chapter 31

Darry’s POV

The Christmas lights from the Humphrey loft windows glowed softly against the falling snow outside, the kind that made the city seem almost peaceful for a second. Inside, though, the air was tense enough to slice through. Alison was standing near the tree, looping a string of silver tinsel through her fingers. Rufus came through the door, the cold following him in.

“Where were you?” Alison asked, voice light but tight around the edges. “I tried calling you. Your phone was off.”

Rufus shut the door quietly, took off his gloves.

“Kept your date for you,” Rufus said.

Alison’s hands froze midair.

“What?” Alison asked in confusion

“Alex.” Rufus’s tone dropped. “Figured I’d give him the courtesy of a face-to-face since he still feels comfortable sending love letters to my wife. At our house.”

From the couch, Soda and Two-Bit exchanged a look. They’d come by earlier with Pony and Johnny to help Jenny finish hanging the ornaments. Jenny had insisted on company, but now nobody was saying a word. Even Dally, leaning against the window, crossed his arms and stayed quiet.

Alison set the tinsel down slowly.

“Rufus, you shouldn’t have done that,” Alison said.

Rufus laughed once, humorless.

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have let him think there was still something there,” Rufus said.

Alison’s eyes fell to the floor.

“He felt like I owed him an explanation,” Alison said.

“And what about me?” Rufus asked. His voice cracked, not angry now, just tired. “Alex said you called him a few days ago. You wanna explain that, too?”

Alison swallowed hard.

“I ended things with him,” Alison said. “I told him to stop calling. That’s what I should’ve told you, but… I didn’t think I needed to.”

Soda shifted on the arm of the couch, uncomfortable. Pony glanced between them, the glow of the Christmas tree reflecting in his eyes. The hum of the city filled the silence like a heartbeat.

Rufus leaned against the kitchen counter.

“So what then, Alison?” Rufus said. “You’d’ve stayed upstate if Jenny hadn’t begged you to come home?”

Alison’s head snapped up.

“And if I hadn’t come back, would Lily be at our apartment right now?” Alison retorted.

That one hit like a gut punch. Even Dally straightened up, his usual smirk gone. Rufus didn’t answer right away, just stared at the floorboards. The silence cracked under the sound of a passing siren outside.

“Man, this is worse than when Darry found Soda sneakin’ in after curfew,” Two-Bit muttered under his breath.

I shot him a look.

“Shut up,” I said, though part of me wanted to laugh just to break the tension.

“We’ve both changed, Alison,” Rufus said quietly. “You… me… this whole thing. Maybe too much.”

Alison’s eyes softened, but her voice stayed steady.

“I know,” Alison said. “I keep trying to rewind us, but no matter how hard I try… it just doesn’t work anymore.”

The silence that followed wasn’t angry; it was the kind that came after a long fight, when both sides finally realized the war was over. The Christmas lights blinked faintly, gold against the green branches.

“Kinda sad, huh?” Johnny whispered.

“Yeah,” I said, watching Rufus and Alison stand there like they didn’t know where to go next. “Real sad.”

The snow fell heavily outside, covering the city like a clean slate nobody was ready to use yet.

Then the unmistakable ping of a Gossip Girl blast went off from Jenny’s phone, where it buzzed on the coffee table.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

“Looks like Christmas isn’t so merry in Brooklyn. Sparks flying between Rufus and Alison, and rumor has it the Tulsa boys are there to witness every frosty word. Who knew the Greasers could handle so much family drama without a rumble?”

Jenny snatched her phone, mortified. Two-Bit laughed until Dally smacked his arm.

“Guess even Brooklyn’s got its own kind of turf war,” Dally said.

And for once, I couldn’t argue.

The snow outside had thickened by the time we all ducked into a little coffee shop down the street from the Humphrey loft. It smelled like cinnamon, espresso, and city winter, that sharp chill that hits every time the door swings open.

Dan sat across from his sister, Jenny, who was glued to her laptop. The rest of us, me, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit, Dally, Pony, and Johnny, claimed the table next to them, half because there weren’t any open seats and half because Soda thought the peppermint mochas “looked classy.”

Dan leaned over his cup.

“You sure you don’t wanna talk about Mom and Dad?” DNA asked.

Jenny didn’t even look up from her screen.

“Not really,” Jenny said. “It’s Christmas, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

Soda, sipping from his drink like it was liquid gold.

“Too late,” Soda muttered. “You live in a soap opera, kid.”

Jenny’s lips twitched, but she ignored him.

“Anyway,” Jenny said, scrolling through a site, “I was thinking, Serena’s impossible to shop for. But maybe something unique. Like… a subscription.”

Dan frowned.

“Subscription?” Dan asked.

“Yeah!” Jenny spun her laptop around so he could see. “Gourmet cheese of the month! See? Only six hundred dollars for a year.”

Two-Bit nearly spat out his coffee.

“Six hundred for cheese?” Two-Bit asked. “What’s it doing?”

Johnny smirked.

“Must be gold-plated cheese,” Johnny said.

Jenny rolled her eyes but smiled faintly.

“It’s classy,” Jenny said. “Serena likes classy.”

Dan leaned back, rubbing his temples.

“She also likes things that don’t cost a semester’s tuition,” Dan said.

Dally, who’d been pretending not to care, leaned over.

“You’re overthinkin’ it, book boy,” Dolly said. “Get her something simple. Something she can’t buy herself.”

Jenny clicked her tongue.

“Yeah, like what?” Jenny asked. “The girl lives in a penthouse. They don’t even allow trees in the hotel where her family is staying.”

Dan froze for a second, then that familiar “Humphrey scheming” look crossed his face.

“Trees,” Dan murmured.

“Trees?” Soda echoed. “Man, don’t tell me you’re thinkin’ of stealin’ one.”

Dan just smiled.

“No, no stealing,” Dan said. “Just… something festive.”

We all exchanged looks. Nobody had any idea what he meant, but from the grin he gave Jenny, it was clear Dan had a plan.

Jenny sighed, shutting her laptop.

“Fine, I’ll help you, but this time you’re paying for the cocoa,” Jenny said.

Before anyone could respond, all our phones buzzed at once: Jenny’s, Dan’s, and even Two-Bit’s burner.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

“Brooklyn’s favorite siblings spotted brainstorming holiday gifts with the Tulsa gang at Café Grumpy. Jenny’s trying to buy Serena’s heart with cheese, while Dan’s dreaming up something fir-tastic. Looks like Christmas creativity’s in full swing, question is, who’s on the naughty list this year?”

Two-Bit laughed so hard he nearly dropped his cup.

“They’re even watchin’ us drink coffee now?” Two-Bit laughed.

“Welcome to the Upper East Side,” Dan said dryly.

That night, we found ourselves at Blair Waldorf’s penthouse, don’t ask how, but apparently Dally “knew a guy” who got us in. Blair was perched on her bed in silk pajamas, her laptop open, the glow lighting up her face. Serena stood nearby, pacing with her phone.

“I can’t believe I still haven’t found the perfect gift for Dan,” Serena was saying, sounding half-frustrated, half-panicked. “I’ve been to every store in Midtown.”

Blair didn’t even look up.

“It’s a boy from Brooklyn, Serena,” Blair said. “Buy him a MetroCard.”

“Blair!” Serena groaned. “I’m serious.”

Blair kept typing, her tone sharp and distracted.

“I am too,” Blair said. “I’m trying to track down Freddy.”

“Freddy?” Serena frowned.

“Freddy,” Blair said. Roman’s old boyfriend. Remember what Mother said? He’s the one who ruined her life by taking her husband, my father. I want to see what kind of man Roman likes besides my father.”

Dally leaned against the dresser, smirking.

“You mean Freddy Romano?” Dally asked.

Blair’s head shot up.

“You know him?” Blair asked. “Like you weren’t kidding earlier.”

Dally shrugged.

“Did some… work with him back in the day,” Dally said. “He modeled for a shoot downtown. Bit of a drama queen, but good guy.”

Blair blinked. “You know him?”

“Yeah,” Dally said with a grin. “You want him found? I can make a call.”

Blair’s eyes lit up, devious.

“Do it,” Blair said.

Serena groaned again.

“Blair, this isn’t a spy movie,” Serena said.

Two-Bit sprawled across Blair’s chaise like he owned it.

“Sure feels like one,” Two-Bit said.

Blair ignored them all, clicking rapidly until she gasped.

“Found him!” Blair said. “Freddy, model, Paris agency. Oh, this is perfect.” She picked up the phone and dialed. “Bonjour, I’d like to book Freddy for a private event.”

Pony leaned toward Johnny.

“She’s gonna blow up her whole family Christmas for revenge, isn’t she?” Pony whispered.

Johnny nodded.

“Seems like it,” Johnny said.

Serena folded her arms, glaring.

“You’re insane, you know that?” Serena said.

“Insanely brilliant,” Blair said sweetly.

Right then, all our phones buzzed again.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

“Looks like Blair Waldorf’s Christmas list includes revenge, not presents. The Tulsa boys caught in the crossfire, Dally dialing models, Two-Bit lounging like royalty. Serena’s stressing over gifts while Blair’s plotting family drama. Who says the holidays can’t be fashionable and fatal?”

Blair smirked.

“She’s not wrong,” Blair said.

“Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms, “but one day, that Gossip Girl’s gonna write about the wrong person.”

Dally just grinned.

“Hope it’s me,” Dally said.

Chapter Text

Chapter 32

Two-Bit’s POV

Snow was starting to fall in lazy spirals outside the big plate-glass window when Serena pushed through the coffee shop door. The little bell jingled overhead, and the warm smell of roasted beans and cinnamon hit her full in the face. I was perched at a back table with Dally, Johnny, and Steve, trying to thaw out our hands after walking all the way up from SoHo.

Vanessa was behind the counter, wiping down mugs when Serena spotted her.

“Hey, Vanessa,” Serena said, brushing snowflakes from her coat. “Do you have a minute? I really need your help.”

Vanessa looked surprised but smiled.

“Depends, help with what?” Vanessa asked. “Holiday drama or something that can actually be fixed?”

Serena laughed, a little breathless.

“Gift drama,” Serena said. For Dan.”

From where I sat, I could see Dally smirk into his coffee.

“This I gotta hear,” Dally muttered.

Vanessa came around the counter.

“Okay, lay it on me,” Vanessa said. “What’ve you got so far?”

Serena sighed, plopping into a chair.

“I found this vintage leather journal he might like, but it’s two hundred dollars,” Serena said. “Then a rare first edition of a book he loves, but it’s a thousand. Everything’s way over fifty bucks, and he’ll freak if I spend more than that.”

Johnny nudged me.

“Guy’s got a pride thing, huh?” Johnny teased.

I grinned.

“Like Darry at a restaurant, won’t let anybody else pick up the check,” I teased.

Vanessa chuckled softly.

“Yeah, that sounds like Dan,” Vanessa said. “He’s not into things, though.”

“That’s the problem,” Serena said, running a hand through her hair. “He only wants… snow.”

Vanessa raised an eyebrow.

“Snow?” Vanessa asked.

Soda, sitting at the next table over, leaned in with that mischievous grin of his.

“Could dump a bag of it on him, real cheap,” Soda teased.

Serena rolled her eyes but smiled.

“You’re not helping, Soda,” Serena said.

Vanessa looked thoughtful, tapping her chin.

“Maybe that’s not as crazy as it sounds,” Vanessa said. “He wants something simple, natural. Something that feels like Christmas.”

“Yeah,” Serena said softly. “Something real.”

I sipped my coffee, watching her stare out the window at the snow piling on the streetlights. Something about the way she said it, real, stuck with me. That’s what she and Dan both wanted. They just didn’t know how rare that was around here.

Before we could say more, all our phones buzzed with the familiar chime.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

“Looks like Serena van der Woodsen’s brewing up more than lattes tonight. Spotted at a Brooklyn coffee shop, begging Vanessa Abrams for help. The Tulsa crew nearby, eavesdropping like elves. Can these outsiders save Christmas, or just stir up more steam?”

Dally snorted.

“I swear, this Gossip Girl chick’s got cameras in our pockets,” Dally said.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” I said. “Upper East Side runs on gossip the way we run on beer and bad ideas.”

Meanwhile, at the Waldorf penthouse, Eleanor was in her element, gold lights strung up, carols floating from a quartet in the corner, and champagne glasses glittering under chandeliers. The gang and I had somehow been roped into helping with “security” for the event, translation: Dally guarding the bar from freeloaders and me wearing a Santa hat and pretending I worked there.

“Eggnog?” Eleanor sang out to a group of socialites, handing off a tray. “Hand-crafted, non-pasteurized, very artisanal.”

“She’s handin’ out eggnog like it’s moonshine,” Johnny whispered.

Across the room, Lily Van Der Woodsen was chatting near the tree when her phone rang. She slipped away into the hall, and I overheard enough to piece together the story.

“Rufus,” Lily said, her voice soft but stiff. “We shouldn’t be speaking.”

Rufus’s voice was faint on the other end, but I caught it: “I know. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas. I hope you have a good holiday.”

Lily hesitated, eyes flickering over the crowd.

“That’s very kind. I’ll… be spending it in Anguilla,” Lily said. “With Bart.”

It was a lie, and she knew it. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes when she said it.

Darry, standing beside me, shook his head slightly.

“She’s doin’ what she thinks she has to,” Darry murmured.

“Yeah,” I said, “but I've seen enough to know lies like that don’t stay buried.”

A few minutes later, Eleanor’s patience hit its limit. A man none of us recognized strolled in carrying a bouquet of roses and a gift basket. Eleanor blinked.

“Excuse me, who are you?” Eleanor asked.

The man smiled nervously.

“Uh, I’m James,” The man said. “Roman invited me?”

Roman, standing behind her, smiled proudly.

“He’s charming, no?” Roman said.

Eleanor’s face tightened.

“Charming?” Eleanor said. “Roman, darling, you can’t keep inviting strange men into my penthouse!”

Across the room, I elbowed Soda.

“I think Roman just made the naughty list,” I teased.

Eleanor forced a smile for her guests, then turned and hissed at Roman under her breath.

“We will talk later,” Eleanor said.

The elevator chimed, Blair’s voice spilled out, sharp and impatient.

“Mother, have you seen Nate?” Blair asked. “I’ve been calling him all night!”

Eleanor’s tone turned sweet again.

“No, dear, perhaps check the terrace,” Eleanor said. “And stop shouting.”

Blair huffed, disappearing upstairs.

Roman looked wounded.

“I was only trying to make you happy, my love,” Roman said.

Eleanor sighed, deflating just a little.

“Next time, try jewelry,” Eleanor said.

Upstairs, the Waldorf penthouse had turned into a different kind of Christmas workshop. Vanessa, Serena, and Eric were hunched over the coffee table, glitter and paper everywhere. The gang, Johnny, Soda, and I, had been drafted as “creative consultants,” which mostly meant cleaning up spilled glue and pretending we knew what we were doing.

Vanessa leaned back, examining their progress.

“Okay, so… a scrapbook of their first year together, plus a snow globe centerpiece,” Vanessa said. “Sentimental without being expensive.”

Serena beamed.

“You really think he’ll like it?” Serena asked.

Johnny smiled from his seat on the floor.

“If he doesn’t, he’s crazy,” Johnny said. “That’s better than any fancy watch.”

Soda grinned.

“Ain’t every guy lucky enough to have three blondes makin’ him a Christmas present?” Soda said.

“Four,” Eric corrected dryly.

We all laughed. Even Serena seemed lighter than she had all week.

Before long, our phones buzzed again.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

“Spotted: Upper East Side angels turning into Christmas elves. Serena, Vanessa, and Eric are crafting the perfect gift for Brooklyn’s boy, with a little help from the Tulsa gang. Upstairs, Eleanor’s playing Santa downstairs, just don’t look in her sleigh. Ho-ho-oh-no!”

Serena laughed.

“I swear, she’s everywhere,” Serena said.

I leaned back in my chair, smiling at the warmth around the room, the laughter, the glow of fairy lights, the way the snow fell soft and steady outside. For once, it felt like maybe these rich kids and us weren’t so different after all.

And in the back of my mind, I wondered what kind of chaos tomorrow would bring.

Snow fell thicker now, coating the city in that soft glow that makes even the Upper East Side look halfway innocent. The sidewalks sparkled under the streetlights, and the smell of roasted nuts from a vendor cart drifted through the air as Dan and Jenny stood outside the Van der Woodsen hotel, bundled up against the cold. The rest of us, me, Soda, and Johnny, hung back near the curb, pretending to be interested in the Christmas lights but really just making sure nobody called security on them again.

Jenny’s breath puffed in the air as she said, “I really thought if Mom came back, things would just… go back to normal.”

Dan sighed, rubbing his hands together.

“Jen, you did the right thing,” Dan said. “You brought them back under the same roof, but now they’re being honest. They’re not living in some fantasy anymore.”

Jenny shook her head, eyes shining.

“You think they’re gonna split up, don’t you?” Jenny asked.

Dan hesitated.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “I do.”

Jenny’s chin wobbled.

“So, what was the point of everything I did?” Jenny asked.

Dan pulled her into a hug.

“The point is now we can stop pretending,” Dan said. “Sometimes it’s better to know the truth than live in a lie.”

I leaned over to Soda.

“That kid’s got more guts than I did at his age,” I said.

Soda nodded quietly.

“He’s like Darry, always holdin’ everything together while everything else falls apart,” Soda said.

Johnny’s voice was soft.

“And still tryna make it better,” Johnny said.

Back at Eleanor Waldorf’s Christmas party, chaos was bubbling under the fancy calm like soda under a cork. Champagne glasses clinked, a string quartet played soft carols, and Eleanor, gripping her flute of champagne, was just about to lose it.

Eleanor downed the rest of her glass and smoothed her dress before turning her charm up to eleven.

“So, James, was it?” Eleanor asked. “What line of work are you in?”

James smiled warmly.

“Finance, mostly,” James said. “Roman was kind enough to invite me.”

Then Freddy, model Freddy, Roman’s old flame, shows up.

“What are you doing here?” Eleanor snarls.

“Roman invited me,” Freddy said.

Roman blinked, his French accent thickening.

“Invite you?” Roman said. “But I thought you…”

Before anyone could finish, Harold walked in, smiling widely.

“Roman, Blair, Eleanor!” Harold said. “Merry Christmas, wait… what’s going on?”

The gang, me, Dally, and Steve, were by the piano, trying not to laugh too loud as the scene unfolded.

Roman’s face twisted into panic.

“Harold, mon amour, I can explain!” Roman said.

“Please do,” Harold said, his voice tight.

Freddy looked confused but playful.

“Roman, I didn’t know your boyfriend would be here!” Freddy said.

“But I didn’t…” Roman said.

Blair’s smirk was sharp enough to cut glass.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Blair said.

Eleanor caught sight of the satisfied gleam in Blair’s eyes, and her jaw dropped in realization.

“Blair Cornelia Waldorf, what did you do?” Eleanor said.

Blair feigned innocence.

“Nothing, Mother,” Blair said. “Roman’s old boyfriend just… showed up. How tragic.”

I caught Dally’s grin from across the room; he’d been the one to help Blair find Freddy on that modeling site, pulling strings like he was still running the Tulsa streets.

Harold’s voice rose.

“Roman, you told me Freddy was in Paris!” Harold said.

Freddy winked.

“Guess I made great time,” Freddy said.

The room fell silent for one long, beautiful second before Roman sighed.

“Blair…” Roman said.

“Oops,” Blair said sweetly, turning toward the bar.

Meanwhile, outside the Van der Woodsen hotel, Dan and Jenny were trying to pull off a Christmas miracle.

The two stood beside a massive Christmas tree that had to be at least twelve feet tall, wrapped in tinsel and lights. The problem? The hotel didn’t allow trees.

“Okay, you distract the concierge, and I’ll…” Jenny whispered.

Before she could finish, the lobby doors opened, and Lily Van der Woodsen appeared, perfectly put together in white fur and red lipstick.

“Children,” Lily said, smiling as she’d expected them. “You’ll never get that tree past Dexter at the front desk. He’s allergic to pine.”

Jenny groaned.

“We’re doomed,” Jenny said.

Lily’s smile turned sly.

“Fortunately, I know Bobby at the back entrance,” Lily said. “He can be… persuaded.”

Soda elbowed me.

“I like this lady already,” Soda said.

Lily reached into her clutch and handed Dan a folded bill.

“Tell Bobby this is from me,” Lily said. “He’s a man of simple pleasures.”

Within minutes, the gang had the tree through the back door and up to the penthouse, whispering and laughing as they strung the lights.

When the final ornament was placed, Jenny stood back, admiring their work.

“Now that’s a Christmas tree,” Jenny said.

Before Dan could respond, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Serena.

Serena: Come to the gallery. I have a surprise. ❤️

Jenny grinned.

“Go, Romeo,” Jenny said. “I’ll finish up here.”

Dan smiled, grateful.

“Thanks, Jen,” Dan said.

We helped them haul the last of the decorations inside before heading out into the falling snow.

Back at Eleanor’s party, the fallout was still going on. Eleanor, now slightly tipsy, was chatting up Freddy’s friend while pretending she hadn’t just watched her ex-husband’s boyfriend flirt with another man in her living room. Roman was apologizing profusely, and Harold looked like he’d walked into a telenovela.

Blair stood smugly at the stairwell, watching it unfold. But when Harold turned to her, his face softened.

“Blair,” Harold said gently, “this isn’t what Christmas is supposed to be. You’re better than this.”

Blair’s smirk faltered.

“He took you away from us,” Blair said.

Harold sighed.

“No one took me anywhere,” Harold said. “I just fell in love. But that doesn’t change how much I love you, sweetheart.”

Blair’s eyes flickered with guilt. For a second, she looked like she might cry.

“Kid’s got a mean streak, but she’s just hurt,” Dally murmured.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Ain’t no party on Earth that can fix that kind of broken.”

At the art gallery, the snow globe room shimmered like something out of a dream. Glass globes of every size hung from the ceiling, twinkling in the soft light, each one filled with its own perfect little snowfall.

Serena turned as Dan walked in.

“You made it,” Serena said.

Dan stopped dead in the doorway, eyes wide.

“This is… wow,” Dan said.

Serena smiled softly.

“Merry Christmas, Dan,” Serena said.

Dan stepped forward, brushing a snow globe with his fingers.

“You did all this?” Dana sked.

Serena laughed.

“Not all of it,” Serena said. “I had help.”

From the corner, Johnny gave a small wave.

“Hey, man,” Johnny said. “Don’t shake the big one, it leaks.”

Dan laughed.

“This is perfect,” Dan said.

Serena stepped closer.

“So are you,” Serena said.

And when they kissed, the gang cheered quietly from the corner like idiots. Soda threw fake snow in the air, and I whistled.

That was when all our phones buzzed one last time.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

“Merry Christmas, Upper East Siders! Looks like Serena’s snowed in, with her Brooklyn boy. Meanwhile, at the Waldorf winter wonderland, hearts melt, and tempers flare. The Tulsa gang? Playing Santa’s little helpers in every scandal this side of Park Avenue. XOXO - Gossip Girl.”

The world outside glowed soft and silver, snow falling in silence. And for one rare moment, even I, the guy who laughed at everything, felt like maybe, just maybe, the city had stopped spinning long enough for everyone to breathe.

Chapter Text

Chapter 33

Steve’s POV

It had been a week since Christmas blew up on the Upper East Side, and somehow, the city hadn’t stopped talking. Gossip Girl had gone quiet for three whole days, which, around here, was basically a national holiday, but everyone knew it was only the calm before the next storm.

And, sure enough, it hit on a Friday night.

Word went around St. Jude’s that somebody had swiped the key to the school’s pool. A few texts, a couple of bottles, and suddenly every rich kid in Manhattan was sneaking through the side door after hours. Music bouncing off the tile, the smell of chlorine and vodka in the air. A real classy crime scene waiting to happen.

That’s how Soda and the rest of the Tulsa crew ended up there, because of course we did. Soda heard “party” and grinned like it was destiny. Darry only came along to keep us from ending up in handcuffs. Pony wanted to see what an Upper East Side pool looked like, Two-Bit heard there’d be free drinks, and Dally said he’d rather “watch the rich kids drown themselves.” Johnny tagged along because none of us were letting him stay home alone.

Inside, the place looked like a movie. Blue lights rippling across the water, girls in sequined bikinis, guys in blazers already half-unbuttoned. Somebody’s speaker was blasting The Killers, and someone else was passing around champagne like soda.

Across the pool, Blair Waldorf was gliding through the water as she owned it. She probably did. Nate Archibald slipped in behind her, hands finding her waist under the water. I caught Soda elbowing me with a grin.

“Think he’s gonna get himself killed?” Soda asked.

“Depends who sees him first, his girlfriend or her lawyer,” I muttered.

Nate murmured something, voice low. Blair’s shoulders stiffened. Even from where I stood, I could see it, the tension, the little spark of guilt she tried to hide.

Then Nate turned her around, kissed her neck, whispered “Blair?” and she let him kiss her back. It should’ve been a romantic movie moment. Instead, it looked like two people pretending they hadn’t already broken something.

Blair pushed away first, slick hair gleaming under the lights.

“Good catching up,” Blair said coolly, and swam off like nothing had happened. Nate just floated there, confusion written all over his face.

Two-Bit leaned toward me.

“Cold,” Two-Bit said, impressed. “Real cold.”

On the far side of the pool, Chuck Bass was lounging in the lifeguard chair, glass in hand, scarf and all, as the king of the underworld, watching his minions misbehave. Blair climbed the ladder, water glistening off her skin, and looked up at him.

“Enough of the blackmail,” Blair said. “Aren’t you bored already? I can’t avoid Nate forever.”

Chuck smirked.

“It’s not forever,” Chuck said. “Just until seeing you with him doesn’t bother me.”

“And when will that be?” Blair asked.

Chuck raised his glass.

“Time will tell,” Chuck said.

Johnny winced.

“That guy’s poison,” Johnny whispered.

Dally chuckled low.

“Takes one to know one, kid,” Dally said.

The doors swung open again, and Serena van der Woodsen swept in, hair catching the light, like she’d been dropped in from a different movie entirely. Chuck’s grin widened. He slid off the chair, sauntered up, and started in on her, flirting that wasn’t really flirting, just a duel with prettier weapons.

Serena wasn’t having it. One flash of her eyes, one quick line about their parents’ “potential engagement,” and Chuck’s smile faltered. She gave his glass a delicate shove; it toppled straight into the pool with a splash that silenced half the room.

“Guess you’re all wet, Bass,” Soda snickered.

That’s when my phone buzzed. So did everyone else’s.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST]

Spotted: Late-night swim turns scandalous as B and N heat up, then cool off faster than the pool filter. Meanwhile, C still can’t resist S (or any S with a pulse). And what’s this? Looks like Tulsa’s finest are lifeguarding the chaos. Don’t drown, boys. XOXO - Gossip Girl.

“Great,” I muttered. “Now we’re part of the headline.”

Back at the Humphrey loft, miles away from the chlorine and champagne, Vanessa had dropped by to show Dan the latest cut of her documentary. Rufus sat in his room, strumming his guitar softly and sadly. The kid hadn’t said more than five words since Christmas. Dan tried to act interested in Vanessa’s footage, but his phone kept buzzing. Serena. Again.

“Pick up,” Vanessa teased. “You’re worse than a girl.”

Dan rolled his eyes, answered, and whatever Serena said made him stand up straight.

“She wants me at a pool party,” Dan said, already grabbing his jacket. “Wants me to bring a swimsuit.”

Vanessa blinked.

“In January?” Vanessa asked.

“Apparently, yes,” Dan said.

“Of course she does,” Vanessa sighed, but she followed anyway, camera in hand.

By the time Dan showed up, the party had hit its chaotic peak. Half the champagne was gone, the other half floating in the pool. I saw him walk in with Vanessa, jeans, hoodie, the world’s most out-of-place plus-one, and Serena, lighting up like Christmas came back early.

Then, like karma clocking in for a shift, it happened. A guy, who looked barely conscious, ran straight into a metal pole by the diving board. The clang echoed. He stumbled, slipped, and fell into the water.

At first, everyone laughed, thinking it was part of the fun. Then the blood clouded the water.

“Holy…” Two-Bit started, but Nate was already moving. He dove in clean, cutting through the water like a bullet. Serena screamed for someone to call 911. Dally grabbed his jacket, barking orders like it was Tulsa all over again.

“Clear the deck!” Dally shouted. “Give him room!”

Nate surfaced with the guy’s limp body, hauling him onto the tile. He started chest compressions while Blair crouched nearby, shaking. I knelt beside Nate, counting out loud with him, my hands trembling from the cold.

“One, two, three…breathe!” I said.

The guy coughed. Choked. Then gasped, sputtering water. Relief flooded the room like air after a blackout. Sirens wailed somewhere distant, getting closer.

Nate sat back, drenched and shaking, but alive with adrenaline. Blair’s hand found his without thinking. For a second, the noise faded, the music, the whispers, everything.

Darry pulled me to my feet as the paramedics rushed in.

“Let’s move, Steve,” Darry said, voice low but proud. “You did well.”

I looked around, at the flashing red lights reflecting off the pool, at the glitter scattered like snow across the tiles, at Serena clutching Dan’s hand, and Chuck leaning against the wall watching it all with unreadable eyes.

Tulsa felt a million miles away.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST]

Tragedy…or miracle? Tonight’s secret swim left one partygoer breathless… literally. Hero of the hour: Nate A, proving he can handle pressure (even underwater). Bonus points to our Tulsa boys for playing paramedics. But the biggest splash? Secrets don’t stay buried, especially not at the bottom of the pool. Stay tuned.

You know you love me. XOXO - Gossip Girl.

When the cops cleared us out, the night air hit cold and hard. Soda shivered, tugging his wet shirt tighter. Johnny walked beside him, quiet. Dally lit a smoke he wasn’t supposed to.

“Y’know,” I said, glancing back at the flashing lights, “for a bunch of rich kids, they sure attract more chaos than we ever did.”

Two-Bit grinned.

“Maybe we finally found a crowd that can keep up,” Two-Bit said.

I wasn’t so sure. Because as we walked away from the sirens and the whispers, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this city, this glittering mess of secrets and champagne, had just swallowed us whole.
Morning came fast.

Too fast.

By the time we got to St. Jude’s, the usual buzz of laughter and gossip in the halls had gone silent. You could feel it the moment you walked in, the air thick and heavy, like the calm before a storm. Every student from both schools, Constance and St. Jude’s, packed into the assembly hall.

Up on stage stood Headmaster Dunne, face pale and tight, and beside him was a woman in a dark gray suit with a sleek bob and ice-blue eyes, the kind that could freeze you in your seat. Next to the projector, Darry stood off to the side, arms folded, jaw locked tight. He didn’t say a word, but I could tell by his stance he already knew this was gonna be bad.

The projector flickered to life.

And there it was.

Picturess

From the pool.

Flashes of bare shoulders, red cups, laughing faces, the shimmer of water under forbidden light. Then one of Nate hauling Andrew Collins out of the pool, his head bloody, his body limp. The room went dead silent except for the hum of the machine.

When the slideshow ended, Headmaster Dunne cleared his throat.

“Last night, a group of students from both St. Jude’s and Constance broke into the school pool after hours,” Headmaster Dunne said. “Alcohol and drugs were involved. One of your classmates, Andrew Collins, nearly drowned.”

Headmaster Dunne took off his glasses and looked out across the crowd.

“He’s stable now,” Headmaster Dunne continued. “He’ll recover. But make no mistake, this could have ended in tragedy.”
A few rows up, Serena and Blair exchanged a look. Nate rubbed the back of his neck. Chuck leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable.

Then the woman stepped forward.

“I’m Ms. Queller,” the woman said crisply. “I’m the new headmistress at Constance Billard, and I will be working closely with St. Jude’s administration to ensure that something like this never happens again.”

Ms. Queller scanned the crowd, eyes sharp. I swear, when she passed over our row, I felt her stare right through the gang and Meg.

“I’ve spoken to your parents,” Ms. Queller continued. “They are… deeply disappointed. As am I.”

Behind her, Darry’s jaw flexed. He wasn’t saying a word, but he looked like he was holding himself back from snapping at the students himself.

Ms. Queller gestured to the screen.

“Someone stole a key,” Ms. Queller said. “Someone broke in. Someone initiated this party. And until that person, or people, come forward, you will all be held accountable.”

A murmur swept through the room.

“To help you reflect,” Ms. Queller added, tone almost smug, “you will each write a ten-thousand-word essay describing how you came to be on school property after hours… drinking, using drugs, and nearly killing a fellow student. Due Monday.”

Two-Bit leaned toward me.

“Ten thousand words?” Two-Bit whispered. “That’s longer than the Bible.”

I elbowed him before Darry could hear.

Ms. Queller’s voice cut through again.

“I will be conducting one-on-one interviews over the next week to determine who was responsible,” Ms. Queller continued. “If no one confesses…” she paused, letting the tension hang… “You will all be expelled.”

You could’ve heard a pin drop. Even Chuck Bass didn’t have a comeback. When she dismissed us, no one moved right away. Then, slowly, the crowd filtered out into the chilly courtyard. Cameras from Gossip Girl followers and reporters already waited outside, like vultures circling the rich and guilty.

On the steps of St. Jude’s, everyone gathered—students in their coats and scarves, their breath visible in the cold.

Blair was the first to speak, her tone cool and commanding.

“Well,” Blair said, “we all know how this works.”

Chuck smirked beside Blair.

“It’s simple,” Chuck said. “No one talks. No one gets in trouble.”

Nate looked uneasy.

“Yeah, but who did break in?” Nate asked.

Chuck chuckled.

“Don’t worry, Archibald,” Chuck said. “We all know you’d never break under pressure. Takes too much energy.”

“Enough,” Blair snapped. “We all agree? No one says anything.”

Serena nodded reluctantly.

“Fine,” Serena said. “No one talks.”

Dan shifted awkwardly at the edge of the group, hands shoved into his pockets.

“You’re seriously okay with all of us taking the fall?” Dan asked.

Blair turned, voice dripping in disdain.

“You’re new to this world, Humphrey,” Blair said. “Around here, silence isn’t a crime, it’s survival.”

Pony leaned against the railing, eyes narrowed.

“Where we’re from, silence gets people killed,” Pony said.

Everyone looked at him like he’d just dropped an alien phrase into their perfect little universe. Two-Bit whistled low, impressed by the tension.

Soda stepped up, resting a hand on Pony’s shoulder.

“He means we ain’t real fond of keeping secrets when somebody almost dies,” Soda said.

Dally scoffed, flicking his cigarette away.

“They’re not gonna snitch, and neither are we,” Dally said. “We weren’t even the ones swimmin’.”

Serena glanced over, her face softening.

“No one’s blaming you guys,” Serena said. “But if someone talks, they’ll use it against everyone.”

Darry came out of the doors then, clipboard in hand, scanning the group. His eyes found me first. Then Soda. Then Pony. He didn’t have to say a word; we knew the look.

Stay out of trouble.

Ms. Queller passed by Darry, muttering to a faculty member. I caught one line:

“If they think I’ll be intimidated by a room full of spoiled delinquents, they’re mistaken,” Ms. Queller said.

Two-Bit grinned, low.

“Delinquents?” Two-Bit teased. “Hey, finally, somethin’ we’re qualified for.”

Before anyone could scatter, the familiar ping echoed from every phone at once. Gossip Girl’s blast hit like a bomb.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

“Spotted: The morning after, our favorite saints and sinners are facing judgment day. Poolside panic turns academic apocalypse as St. Jude’s cracks down. Headmistress Queller demands answers, but who’ll be the first to sink?

Rumor has it that even the Tulsa boys can’t swim out of this one. Better start writing those essays, kiddos, 10,000 words on ‘How I Got Caught.’ XOXO - Gossip Girl.”

Blair glared at her phone. Serena sighed.

Dally smirked.

“Ten thousand words, huh?” Dally said. “I can fit everything I did wrong into one sentence.”

“Yeah,” Soda said. “But they wouldn’t be able to print it.”

Darry came down the steps, clipboard still in hand, and gave us that look, the one that meant we were in for it later.

“Let’s go,” Darry said. “Before one of you gives her a real reason to expel you.”

We followed him, boots crunching on snow, the tension thick enough to taste.

Behind us, the golden kids of the Upper East Side kept their secrets close.

But we all knew it… No secret stayed buried forever.

Chapter Text

Chapter 34

Dally’s POV

The next day, the sky over Manhattan looked like steel. The kind of gray that promised nothing but cold wind and bad decisions.

We were up early, Darry had us cleaning around the VanderWoodsen penthouse again. He’d landed a temp maintenance gig there while the regular staff was out, and, of course, we were his “volunteers.” Soda said it was good money, but I think Darry just liked keepin’ us busy.

I was halfway through replacing a busted lightbulb when the elevator dinged. When the doors slid open, Lily VanderWoodsen stepped out, crisp white coat, heels clicking like she owned the marble floor, because she did. She looked surprised to see us there, but she smiled anyway.

“Dallas,” Lily greeted, voice smooth as silk. “Still avoiding uniforms, I see.”

“Ma’am,” I said, smirking. “Never been my style.”

Lily gave that polite, Upper East Side laugh that didn’t reach her eyes and disappeared into the hallway. Didn’t think much of it until the doorbell rang a few minutes later.

Lily answered it herself. The second the door swung open, her face changed. Soft. Caught.

Rufus Humphrey stood there, hands in his coat pockets, that Brooklyn look on his face that didn’t belong in a place with marble floors. I froze, the bulb still in my hand. The whole air in the room shifted, tight, electric.

“Rufus,” Lily said carefully. “What are you doing here?”

Rufus stepped inside, ignoring the way the doorman hovered uncertainly.

“I’m not leaving another message in the courtyard this time,” Rufus said.

“Clearly,” Lily replied, her chin lifting. “But five minutes ago my kids…”

“Why did you come to see me yesterday?” Rufus cut in. His voice wasn’t angry, just raw.

Lily’s eyes darted toward us, me, Soda, and Pony frozen near the ladder like statues. Darry gave me that don’t even breathe look, but it was too late. The tension was too thick to ignore.

“I told you,” Lily said quietly. “It was out of respect.”

“Respect or regret?” Rufus asked. “You wanted me to give you a reason not to spend the rest of your life with Bart Bass.”

“Rufus…” Lily said.

Rufus stepped closer.

“I’m still in love with you, Lily,” Rufus said.

That landed like a punch. Even Soda’s jaw went slack. Johnny blinked as he’d wandered into the middle of a movie.

Lily folded her arms, trying to steady herself.

“And what exactly are you offering me, Rufus?” Lily asked. Her voice trembled just enough to give her away. “Some… retrospective? A chance to relive the road trips we took twenty years ago? We’re not twenty, and we’re not on the road.”

“Thank God,” Rufus said. “Back then, your mother made this decision for you. Don’t let her, or Bart, make it again.”

Pony was watching like it was a scene out of a novel, eyes wide, notebook half-open. Two-Bit mouthed, dang, under his breath. Steve elbowed him before Darry could.

“I remember,” Lily said softly.

“Then you remember what it felt like to have a choice,” Rufus said. “I don’t know what it means for us to be together now. But aren’t you even curious?”

Silence. The kind that makes your chest hurt. Outside, you could hear the wind whistle against the glass.

“Lily,” Rufus said, voice breaking a little. “You’re standing at the same crossroads you were years ago. Claim your life this time. Live the way you want.”

And then, he kissed her.

Not some movie kiss, but real. Years of history kind of kiss. It was messy, it was quiet, it was everything. Then Rufus stepped back, hands shaking, and left without another word.

The elevator doors slid shut behind him, the silence swallowing the whole penthouse. Lily stood there, eyes closed, breathing like she’d just run a mile.
Nobody moved until Soda coughed.

“Uh… you want us to finish the lightbulbs, Mrs. VanderWoodsen?” Soda asked weakly.

Lily blinked, snapping back.

“Yes. Please,” Lily said. She straightened, smoothing her hair like nothing had happened. “Not a word, boys.”

We all nodded fast. Even Two-Bit.

But by the time we hit the elevator, phones buzzed in unison. Every Upper East Side kid’s worst nightmare lit up on the screen.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST - 11:37 A.M.]

Spotted: Brooklyn Boy R back at the Palace, this time at S’s mom’s penthouse. A kiss, a confession, and maybe a scandal big enough to shake the marble floors. L, careful, one more step and you’re playing with fire. And who else witnessed the smooch? Seven boys from Tulsa who apparently fix lightbulbs and catch gossip. Welcome to the big leagues, greasers. XOXO, Gossip Girl.
Darry groaned as soon as he saw it.

“Great,” Darry said. “Now we’re in it.”

Two-Bit grinned.

“At least we made headlines,” Two-Bit said.

Johnny frowned.

“Isn’t this… private?” Johnny asked. “Like, personal stuff?”

Steve shrugged.

“Guess privacy’s a myth here, kid,” Steve said.

I leaned against the wall, smirking despite myself.

“Can’t say Manhattan’s boring,” I said.

But when the elevator doors opened to the lobby, I caught Lily’s reflection in the glass, alone at the window, hand pressed to the pane, eyes lost somewhere far below the skyline.

For once, I didn’t have a smart remark. Just that gut feeling that no matter what she decided, Bart, Rufus, or whatever plan came next, none of it was gonna end clean.

Not in this city. Not under Gossip Girl’s watch.

And sure enough, by the time we hit the street, another blast hit the feed:

[GOSSIP GIRL UPDATE]

Two men, one Lily, and a love triangle fifteen years in the making. While the Upper East Side braces for heartbreak, our Tulsa transplants are learning that in Manhattan, secrets don’t stay secret. Who needs soap operas when you’ve got Gossip Girl?

You know you love me.

XOXO - Gossip Girl.

Later at school…

You could feel the tension before you even walked into the building. The air around St. Jude’s was colder, sharper, like the city itself knew everyone was about to go down for that pool party mess.

We’d all shown up early, hanging by the lockers while teachers and security guards swarmed like vultures. Darry was on duty, standing by the office doors in that “responsible adult” stance that made every kid straighten their posture.

“Word is, they’re callin’ people in one by one,” Two-Bit muttered, biting into a chocolate bar he’d probably stolen from the vending machine. “Feels like we’re in some kinda lineup.”

Steve smirked.

“Ain’t that familiar?” Steve said.

Darry shot us a look.

“Don’t start,” Darry said. “I’m already walkin’ a fine line letting you kids hang out here after that stunt.”

“Wasn’t it us who threw the pool party?” I said, leaning back against a locker. “We were just bystanders.”

“Bystanders with beer,” Pony reminded me.

“Semantics,” I said.

The office door opened, and the new headmistress, Miss Queller, walked out like she was made of glass and authority. Every inch of her screamed control. She was polite, crisp, and terrifying.

“Nathaniel Archibald,” Ms. Queller called.

Nate got up, looking like he was walking into a funeral. Blair tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it looked more like she was scared of what he’d say.

We drifted closer to the office door. No one said we could listen in, but no one said we couldn’t either.

Inside, through the slightly open door, Miss Queller’s voice was clear.

“After all your family has endured this year, Mr. Archibald, I’m surprised to learn you were behind something like this,” Ms. Queller said.

“I know,” Nate said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Ms. Queller folded her hands, calm but cutting.

“From what I can see, you seem to be toeing the line of mediocrity,” Ms. Queller said. “Your grades are average at best, almost as though you aren’t committed to school or your future.”

“Can we just move to the punishment part?” Nate asked, his voice tight.

“Certainly,” Ms. Queller said. “But I am curious, can you describe how you broke into the pool?”

Nate hesitated.

“I can do better,” Nate said. “I can show you.”

Nate pulled the key from his pocket.

Johnny blinked beside me.

“That’s Blair’s key,” Johnny whispered.

Miss Queller’s tone sharpened.

“And how exactly did you come by this key, Mr. Archibald?” Ms Queller asked. “You aren’t on the swim team or employed by the janitorial staff.”

“I… I just found it,” Nate stammered.

Ms. Queller leaned forward.

“Where’s the keychain?” Ms. Queller asked.

Nate blinked.

“The keychain?” Nate asked.

“Yes,” Ms. Queller said. “Do you remember the color? The size? What is it made of?”

She held up a printed photo of the key, gold, with a bright red fob dangling from it. The one Chuck had been holding in Vanessa’s video.

Nate swallowed hard.

“Who are you trying to protect?” Ms. Queller asked softly.

Nate didn’t answer.

We all froze outside. Soda let out a quiet whistle.

“Man’s about to take the fall for somethin’ that ain’t his,” Soda said.

Darry crossed his arms.

“He’s loyal,” Darry said. “But he’s being stupid.”

“Guess loyalty’s a liability around here,” I muttered.

Pony frowned.

“It’s not loyalty if it gets everyone else expelled,” Pony said.

“Tell that to Nate,” I said, watching as Miss Queller’s voice carried out, calm, deliberate, like a hammer wrapped in silk.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST - 10:32 A.M.]

Spotted: Golden Boy N taking one for the team. Rumor has it our favorite Archibald just confessed to a crime he didn’t commit. Who’s he protecting? Word is, it involves a queen, a Bass, and one very incriminating key. Oh, and our Tulsa transplants caught every word. Keep your lips sealed, boys, or the Upper East Side might chew you up. XOXO - Gossip Girl.

By the time Nate came out, he looked like he’d just done a lap through hell. Chuck was waiting down the hall, unreadable as ever. Blair hovered like she wanted to run but couldn’t.

Nate passed us without a word. Soda almost said something, but Darry’s warning glare shut him up fast.

Outside, Vanessa was setting up her camera by the front steps, fiddling with the lens when Blair walked up, heels sharp on the pavement.

“Can I have a word, off-camera?” Blair asked.

Vanessa arched an eyebrow.

“Sure,” Vanessa said. “But I think I know what you’re going to say. You can save yourself the indignity of groveling; there’s no way you’re getting that tape.”

Blair blinked, unimpressed.

“I wasn’t going to grovel,” Blair said. “The fact that you thought I would shows how little you understand who you’re dealing with.”

I couldn’t help but grin. The girl had fire, I’ll give her that.

Vanessa folded her arms.

“What are you going to do?” Vanessa asked. “Blackball me from yogurt on the Met steps? You’ve got nothing I need.”

Blair tilted her head, all ice and precision.

“If you put the footage in your film, you won’t be able to show it anywhere,” Blair said. “I won’t sign a release. That’s the law, sweetie.”

Vanessa shrugged.

“I’m not looking for a distribution deal,” Vanessa said. “Just a local arts grant. Helps pay rent. Now, if you don’t mind, you’re in my shot.”

Blair huffed and spun on her heel, storming off.

Two-Bit snorted from the bench nearby.

“Guess Queen B met her match,” Two-Bit said.

Then Chuck slid up to Vanessa like a shadow in a suit, holding out a thick wad of cash.

Vanessa blinked.

“What is that?” Vanessa asked. “Stripper money?”

Chuck smirked.

“Ten thousand dollars,” Chuck said. “For the tape.”

Vanessa scoffed.

“You think I’d take your money?” Vanessa asked.

“Yes,” Chuck said simply. “I know girls like you. You act like money doesn’t matter, but everyone has a price.”

Vanessa’s jaw tightened.

“And I thought Blair was manipulative,” Vanessa said.

Chuck’s smile turned cold.

“Blair’s an amateur,” Chuck said. “She thinks you’re like her. To her, money is a few pairs of Manolos and a Chanel bag. But this,” Chuck said, shaking the envelope slightly, “this changes your life. You could make rent for a year.”

For a second, Vanessa froze. You could see the weight of the offer hit her. Then she exhaled and handed him the tape.

“You’re sick,” Vanessa said.

Chuck smirked.

“You’re welcome,” Chuck said.

Chuck pocketed the tape and walked off.

We all sat there, stunned.

“Ten grand for silence,” Steve muttered. “Guess that’s one way to keep your secrets safe.”

Darry sighed.

“And one way to learn what kind of people we’re surrounded by,” Darry said.

Johnny looked down, thoughtful.

“Back home, people did crazy stuff for twenty bucks,” Johnny said.

Two-Bit grinned weakly.

“Guess Manhattan just raises the stakes,” Two-Bit said.

And as Chuck disappeared into the crowd, phones buzzed again.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST - 11:03 A.M.]

Spotted: C buying silence with a stack of cash. The camera doesn’t lie, but money can make it disappear. Looks like the Greasers got front-row seats to blackmail, bribery, and betrayal. Welcome to the Upper East Side, boys. You’re playing in a new league now.

You know you love me.

XOXO - Gossip Girl.

Chapter Text

Chapter 35

Johnny’s POV

The city looked colder that afternoon, like the skyline itself was holding its breath after that morning’s Gossip Girl blast.

Rufus and Lily.

A kiss.

Caught by the world.

By us.

We were still trying to keep our heads down after that mess when Darry got a call. Lily wanted us back at the Bass Industries building to “help set up for an event.” Only this time, she sounded… off. Quieter. Like her voice was coming from somewhere else.

By lunch, we were all there.

Darry and Soda were fixing a chandelier in the restaurant’s private dining room, Steve and Two-Bit were pretending to polish silver just so they could hear the rich people talk, and Dally was out front leaning against the marble railing, lighting a cigarette he wasn’t supposed to. Pony was at the corner table with a sketchbook CeCe had given him, pretending to draw but really just watching the whole scene.

That’s when Bart Bass walked in.

You could feel it, that shift in the room, that hush money buys. He sat across from Lily, the kind of man who didn’t have to raise his voice to get attention. Lily smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. The waiter dropped off menus, and the air got heavier than it had any right to be.

“So,” Bart said, flipping a page like he wasn’t even reading it. “You’ve been quiet all morning. Something on your mind?”

Lily hesitated, eyes flicking to the tablecloth.

“Uh…” Lily started.

Right then, Bart’s phone rang.

He didn’t even apologize before answering.

“Yeah?” Bart said. “What are you saying?” Bart stands up and then says to Lily, “Sorry. It’s Sheldon, he’s got those numbers I asked for. Do you mind?”

Lily shook her head.

“No, of course not,” Lily said.

Bart nodded once.

“Yeah,” Bart said. “Just make sure he gets it at the current rate.” Lily’s shoulders sagged the second he was gone.

“Think she looks like someone who just lost her lunch,” Two-Bit whispered.

Steve elbowed him.

“Shut up, man,” Steve said. “She’s got that same face Darry gets when he’s about to tell us we’re grounded.”

I pretended to polish a glass but couldn’t stop watching her. Lily picked up her phone, fingers shaking just a little, and hit a number she must’ve known by heart.

“Hello?” Rufus’s voice came faint through the quiet.

“I was thinking about what you said,” Lily said softly. “Let’s do it. Let’s see what we are. Let’s see what we could be.”

There was a pause. Then Rufus laughed, surprised, like he hadn’t dared to hope.

“Who is this?” Rufus teased.

Lily actually laughed, really this time.

“Rufus!” Lily said.

Rufus laughed again, full of that old Brooklyn warmth.

“Lily, this is great,” Rufus said. “Do you know how great this is?”

“Yes,” Lily said. “I mean, I … I do. I think so.”

“Let’s go away tonight,” Rufus said. “Pack a bag. Get away from everyone, everything. Just figure it out.”

“Where would we go?” Lily asked, voice trembling between fear and freedom.

“Who cares?” Rufus said. “As long as it’s not here.”

Lily’s voice went barely above a whisper.

“It sounds like a plan,” Lily said. “Ninety and Fifth at six o’clock?”

“Okay,” Rufus said.

“I’m scared,” Lily said, smiling as she meant it. “In a good way.”

“Me too,” Rufus said.

Lily hung up.

Just like that.

Dally had wandered in by then, catching the end of it.

“Damn,” Dally muttered. “Guess she picked the other guy.”

Soda climbed down from the ladder, wiping dust off his hands.

“Can you blame her?” Soda asked. “Bart looks like he calculates emotions in spreadsheets.”

Pony shut his sketchbook.

“Still,” Pony said, “that’s gonna blow up. You don’t walk away from Bart Bass without fireworks.”

Two-Bit snorted.

“Hope Gossip Girl’s ready,” Two-Bit said. “This one’s gonna break the internet.”

Lily looked up then, not at us, not even at Bart, still talking on his phone, but out the window, at the skyline, like she could already see her escape waiting in the distance.

Darry cleared his throat.

“Alright, boys,” Darry said low. “Pack it up. We’re done here.”

We left quietly. For once, even Two-Bit didn’t joke.

Because we all knew what it looked like when someone was about to make a run for their life, not from cops, not from danger, but from the cage they’d built themselves.

And in that moment, Lily Van Der Woodsen looked a lot like one of us.

By the time we got back to St. Jude’s, the air was heavy, like the city knew something was coming. Darry had dropped us off at the front gate, telling us to “keep our heads down and stay outta trouble.”

But trouble always seemed to find us first. Darry was called to a maintenance scene in the school because a water fountain was on the fritz.

We were called into another assembly, Miss Queller.

“Would all students who were at the pool after school hours report to the auditorium?” Miss Queller said over the intercom. “Immediately.”

Soda let out a low whistle.

“Guess we’re about to get front-row seats to someone’s funeral,” Soda said.

Two-Bit elbowed him.

“Bet Gossip Girl’s already warming up her typing fingers,” Two-Bit said.

We filed into the auditorium with the rest of them, Serena, Blair, Chuck, Nate, Dan, and even Jenny, looking like she wanted to vanish. Miss Queller stood at the podium, arms crossed tight. Behind her, sunlight spilled through tall windows like a spotlight waiting to find its next victim.

“Settle down, please,” Miss Queller said, voice echoing. “Yesterday, I spoke to you all about consequences for your dishonorable actions. And obviously,” Miss Queller said, her gaze sweeping over the crowd, and landing squarely on Dally, who only smirked, “you didn’t believe me.”

Dally raised his eyebrows.

“She’s lookin’ right at me,” Dally muttered under his breath. “What’d I even do this time?”

Steve grinned.

“Existing,” Steve teased.

Chuck leaned toward Blair, voice low and smug.

“Proof… worth every penny,” Chuck teased.

Chuck flicked open his phone and showed her the little video, the one Vanessa filmed, grainy but clear enough. The argument that Chuck and Blair had at the party at Blair’s apartment last night. The blackmail is on full display.

Blair blinked, eyes going wide.

“You bought that?” Blair hissed.

“Consider it an investment,” Chuck murmured.

Pony and I traded glances.

“Guess even secrets got price tags here,” Pony whispered.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “And some folks don’t mind payin’.”

Miss Queller’s tone sharpened.

“…But someone came forward today and claimed responsibility,” Miss Queller continued.

Gasps rippled through the room. Serena leaned toward Blair, panic creeping into her voice.

“Do you know who?” Blair asked.

Miss Queller looked down at the clipboard, lips pressed tight.

“For a crime he did not commit,” Miss Queller said. “And although I appreciate his self-sacrifice… I do not abide by dishonesty. And I think it’s time you all know how serious I am.”

The room went still.

“Nathaniel Archibald,” Miss Queller said, “is suspended from St. Jude’s. Effective immediately. And yes, this will go on your transcript. Mr. Archibald… you know where to find the exit.”

The silence broke like glass.

“What?!” Soda blurted, forgetting himself. “He didn’t even…”

Darry’s voice cut in from the back row, low but firm.

“Soda,” Darry said.

But it was too late. Half the room had already turned to look at us, the Tulsa gang and the boy with too much heart for his own good.

Nate’s chair scraped back. He stood, stiff-backed but pale, and gathered his things. Blair’s hand hovered in the air like she wanted to stop him, but pride kept it from landing. Chuck leaned back, smirking faintly, though even he looked rattled underneath it.

Nate turned toward Miss Queller, jaw set.

“You’re making a mistake,” Nate said, voice tight.

“Perhaps,” Miss Queller replied evenly. “But one of you is lying. And I won’t tolerate that.”

Nate glanced toward Serena, and for a second, the whole room could see it. The truth sits heavy between them.

Then Nate walked out.

The doors clicked shut behind him.

And right on cue, phones buzzed across the room. A chorus of pings.

[GOSSIP GIRL BLAST]

Spotted: Nate Archibald taking the fall, and the door, for someone else’s midnight swim. But who’s the real culprit? The golden boy’s halo just hit the floor. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Miss Queller’s jaw tightened.

“Watch him go, students,” Miss Queller said. “Who wants to be next? Until one of you comes forward, we’ll keep going until every last one of you has walked out that door.”

Miss Queller’s voice carried the kind of finality that made your stomach twist.

Blair stared straight ahead, frozen. Serena looked like she’d been punched.

“She ain’t serious,” Dally muttered.

But she was.

“Everyone, outside,” Miss Queller ordered.

We spilled into the hallway, confusion, anger, whispers. The air felt electric.

Dan pushed through the crowd, heading straight for Serena.

“I don’t believe this,” Dan said, shaking his head. “They suspended him?”

Serena’s voice was small.

“Dan, it’s okay,” Serena said.

“No, it’s not okay,” Dan snapped. “I can’t, I can’t get expelled, Serena. My whole future’s riding on this. If you know who broke in, why won’t you give them up?”

The hallway went still again. Even Two-Bit stopped making jokes.

Serena looked up, eyes wet but steady.

“Because it was me,” Serena said quietly.

Dan froze. The words hit like a gunshot.

“You?” Dan said, voice breaking. “You did it?”

Serena nodded once.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” Serena said.

Soda let out a low whistle.

“Well, damn,” Soda said.

Blair’s face turned white. Chuck looked downright thrilled. Pony scribbled something in his notebook, maybe to make sense of it later, maybe because nobody else could.

And me? I just stared at her, the golden girl who always looked untouchable, looking more human than I’d ever seen her.

Miss Queller stepped out of the auditorium then, her heels clicking like a gavel.

“Serena van der Woodsen,” Miss Queller said sharply. “My office. Now.”

Darry gave us a look that said Don’t move. But Dally, being Dally, muttered, “Guess even angels fall in this place.”

As Serena walked past us toward the office, her eyes caught mine for just a second, scared, determined, maybe both. And I got it. That look. The one you wear when you know you’re about to take the fall to protect someone you care about.

It was the same look Pony had when he stood up to a Soc.

The same one I’d seen in the mirror the night I saved him.

Only here, in Manhattan, they didn’t use knives or fists.

They used secrets.

Chapter Text

Chapter 36

Pony’s POV

The hall outside the Headmistress’s office felt like it stretched for miles, polished marble, dark oak doors, the kind of quiet that made even breathing sound suspicious. Serena sat next to me on the bench, staring straight ahead, fingers twisting around each other like she was trying to wring out a confession from her own hands.

Miss Queller’s muffled voice echoed from inside the office. Dan was next in line. The rest of us, Blair, Nate, Chuck, and the gang, sat scattered across the hallway like we were waiting for sentencing.

I shifted in my chair.

“Feels like waiting outside the principal’s office back home,” I muttered to Soda. “Except with better lighting.”

Soda chuckled softly.

“And worse consequences,” Soda muttered.

Two-Bit leaned against the wall, smirking.

“You’re tellin’ me. I almost miss when gettin’ caught meant Darry yellin’ instead of some headmistress in pearls,” Two-Bit teased.

Darry shot him a look from where he stood, arms crossed. He’d been talking with Miss Queller earlier, something about scholarship supervision and ensuring “the Greasers of Tulsa High” stayed in line. He didn’t look too thrilled to be babysitting Manhattan royalty.

Inside the office, I could hear voices, calm but tense. Miss Queller’s and Dan’s. Serena’s head snapped toward the door, her hair falling over her shoulder like a curtain.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dan’s voice drifted out through the half-open door. “You could’ve just said it was you.”

Serena’s voice came quieter, tired.

“Because I didn’t want to put you in that position,” Serena said. “Of having to choose between protecting yourself or yourself.”

Dan’s voice softened but still carried that edge.

“So you just let me think Chuck had it?” Dan asked. “Or Nate? Anyone but you?”

Serena sighed.

“It wasn’t supposed to go like this,” Serena said. “Back when I was a freshman, I was dating the captain of the swim team. He gave me a key to the pool so we could meet after hours. I forgot I even had it until Blair and I were looking for somewhere to go that night. Next thing I knew, we were throwing a party.”

Two-Bit whispered to Steve.

“Wow,” Two-Bit whispered. “Serena van der Woodsen, scandalous since freshman year.”

Steve smirked.

“Guess she’s been in this world longer than us,” Steve said.

Darry gave them a glare that shut them up instantly.

The office door opened, and Dan stepped in. His face was pale, his expression unreadable. Serena stood too, brushing at her skirt like she was smoothing out more than fabric.

Miss Queller’s voice followed them.

“Ms. van der Woodsen, you’re next.”

Serena turned back to Dan before he went in.

“I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” Serena said softly. “I just didn’t want to make you choose.”

Dan didn’t say anything at first. Then, “You did anyway.”

Serena, like she wanted to say more, but Miss Queller’s assistant ushered Dan in. The door clicked shut.

Dally snorted from the end of the hall.

“This school’s worse than juvie,” Dally said. “At least in juvie, you knew who snitched.”

Johnny nudged him.

“Don’t say that so loud, Dal,” Johnny said. “You’ll get us both expelled.”

Darry ignored them, pacing slowly. He looked more like a big brother than a teacher right now, worry carved into his face, his jaw tight.

“If this keeps up, we’re gonna have to figure out what kind of trouble we’re really in,” Darry muttered.

Blair was standing across the hall talking to Nate. From the look on her face, she was holding something back, which wasn’t unusual for Blair Waldorf.

“I can’t believe you told them it was you,” Blair said quietly.

Nate shrugged.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Nate said. “My parents have bigger stuff going on. Plus…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was worth it.”

Blair blinked.

“Worth it?” Blair asked.

“I saw the key in your bedroom,” Nate said. “Figured you were just trying to keep whoever had it safe. Thought I could… cover for you.”

Blair’s lips parted in surprise. For a second, she looked almost human, not the queen bee of Constance, just a girl trying to figure out what to do next.

“That was…” Blair paused, voice softening. “Actually, the most romantic gesture anyone’s ever done for me.”

Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Man’s about to get his heart broken, huh?” Two-Bit said.

I shot him a look.

“Quiet,” I said.

Nate leaned in, voice low.

“Blair, I love you,” Nate said.

Blair blinked again, eyes flicking between him and the floor.

“You can’t,” Blair said.

“What do you mean, I can’t?” Nate asked.

“Because,” Blair said, her voice shaking just enough to make it real, “I don’t love you.”

The hallway went still, and even Dally stopped smirking.

Nate stared at her like he didn’t believe it.

“Right,” Nate said. “Guess that’s that.”

Blair turned away, heels clicking against the tile as she walked off. The rest of us exchanged glances, the kind that said we’d just watched something important crack in half.

Serena came back out a few minutes later, looking drained. Dan stood when he saw her, but she didn’t go to him. She just brushed past, heading for the doors, her blonde hair catching the hallway light like fire.

Miss Queller stepped out after her, addressing the room.

“We’re done for today,” Miss Queller said. “I’ll have decisions made by tomorrow morning.”

As everyone started filing out, Dally muttered, “Whole school’s built on secrets. Surprised the roof ain’t caved in yet.”

“Give it time,” I said, half-smiling.

And that’s when the familiar ping of a phone went off. Then another. Then ten more.

Every phone around us buzzed in unison.

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Looks like things are heating up in the hallowed halls of Constance and St. Jude’s. One golden girl’s secret key has unlocked a world of trouble, and a certain Tulsa crew is right in the middle of the mess.
Secrets sink ships, darlings, and this one’s about to flood the Upper East Side.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.”

The hallway was filled with whispers. Blair looked at her phone and groaned. Serena just closed hers with a snap.

Dally laughed under his breath.

“Well, Ponyboy,” Dally said, clapping me on the shoulder, “guess we made the blast again.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, watching Serena and Dan walk in opposite directions. “But I’m starting to think that’s not exactly a good thing anymore.”

The Van Der Woodsen Penthouse…

The Van der Woodsen penthouse looked like something out of a magazine spread, soft gold lighting, clean lines, and not a pillow out of place. Still, somehow, the air felt heavy. Like the whole place had been holding its breath too long.

Serena dropped her bag by the door and practically collapsed onto her bed. Dally, Johnny, Soda, and I were helping Lily sort through the leftover boxes from the last trip, CeCe’s “spring cleaning project,” she’d called it. Really, it was just an excuse to order people around.

Lily stepped into Serena’s doorway, crisp in her cream blouse, holding a stack of perfectly folded scarves.

“You’re home early,” Lily said, a hint of worry sharpening her tone. “Please tell me you’re not expelled.”

Serena groaned, muffled by her pillow.

“Not yet,” Serena said.

Lily sighed, that tired, disappointed sigh adults used when they didn’t want to yell.

“Your position at that school is already too precarious, Serena,” Lily said. “One false move, and you know what? I can’t do anything to help you.”

“I know,” Serena mumbled, rolling onto her back. “I just wanna hide under the covers and make it all go away.” She glanced toward the open suitcase on Lily’s settee. “And apparently, you do too. You and Bart just got back. Why are you packing again?”

Lily froze, half-reaching for a silk blouse.

“Well, I was just going to go for… You know, a little spa trip,” Lily said. “For the weekend.”

Dally leaned over from the doorway where he’d been leaning against the frame, arms crossed.

“Spa trip,” Dally muttered under his breath to Johnny. “That rich people code for running away?”

Johnny nudged him with his elbow.

“Maybe don’t say that where she can hear you,” Johnny said.

Serena sat up, crossing her arms.

“’Cause you’re so stressed out from your vacation?” Serena teased.

Lily was about to answer when her phone rang from the dresser. The ringtone cut through the quiet. Serena grabbed it before Lily could reach. She looked at the caller ID and frowned.

“Rufus,” Serena said simply, holding the phone out.

Lily hesitated, hand hovering over it as the thing might burn her. Then she sighed, set it down on the dresser face down, and walked away.

Serena raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?” Serena asked.

“No,” Lily said flatly, brushing invisible lint off her sleeve. “I don’t think so.”

Two-Bit, who was sitting cross-legged on the couch near the door.

“Guess that’s one call she’s screening for more than telemarketers,” Two-Bit whispered to Soda.

Soda shot him a warning look.

“Don’t start,” Soda said.

Serena sat up straighter, voice soft but sharp.

“Mom… is Dan’s dad the reason you haven’t answered Bart’s proposal?” Serena asked.

Lily didn’t respond right away. She glanced at the phone again, then out the window at the skyline, anything but her daughter.

Serena stood.

“You can’t,” Serena said, stepping closer. “Please, Mom. Not this one.”

Lily finally looked at her, eyes hardening.

“Look, I will not abase my personal life on your preferences,” Lily said.

Serena’s jaw tightened.

“Dan is my boyfriend,” Serena pleaded. “And I know we’re too young to talk about forever, but right now that’s what it feels like.”

Johnny and I exchanged a glance, which reminded me of Soda and Sandy back home, that same kind of look where love and hurt twisted up together.

Lily’s voice softened a little.

“I know it does, sweetie, but…” Lily said.

“But what?” Serena cut her off. “Tell me that Rufus is that important to you. Tell me that whatever the two of you have is the most important thing in your life. Because that’s what Dan is to me, Mom. The most important.”

Lily’s eyes flickered, just a second of hesitation, but it said everything.

Serena pressed forward.

“I would rather be Chuck’s stepsister than Dan’s,” Serena said. “Please don’t do this to me.”

The room went silent. Even Dally looked uncomfortable, like he’d just wandered into a fight between Pony and me.

“Dan means that much to you?” Lily asked.

Serena nodded.

“Yeah, he does,” Serena said. She grabbed her coat and bag. “In fact, I have to go.”

“Wait, where?” Lily asked, her voice rising.

“School,” Serena said, already at the door. “There’s something I have to do. And I hope there’s something you have to do too.”

The elevator doors closed behind her.

Lily stood there a long moment, staring at the phone on the dresser. Dally crossed his arms.

“So, what’s she gonna do, call the guy, or keep runnin’ from him?” Dally asked.

Lily shot him a sharp look, but Dally didn’t flinch.

“Because where we come from,” Dally went on, “you keep dodgin’ the truth like that, it’s gonna find you anyway. Probably when it hurts the most.”

For a moment, I thought she might yell at him. Instead, Lily just sighed.

“You boys certainly have a way of cutting through everything, don’t you?” Lily said.

I had been standing quietly near the kitchen, and finally spoke up.

“Sometimes that’s the only way to get to what’s real,” I said.

Lily didn’t respond. She just sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at her packed suitcase like she wasn’t sure whether to unpack or walk out the door.

And that’s when every phone in the room buzzed again, mine, Soda’s, even Johnny’s old flip phone. The familiar chime of chaos.

Gossip Girl Blast:

“Looks like the Van der Woodsen penthouse is running out of room for secrets, that is. Mommy dearest still hasn’t answered Mr. Bass’s big question, and word on Park Avenue is that a certain Brooklyn troubadour might be the reason why.

As for S, she’s not taking this lying down, or under the covers. Seems like the golden girl’s off to fight for her boy.

Stay tuned, Upper East Siders. It’s only a matter of time before someone’s heart gets Bass-slapped.

XOXO - Gossip Girl.”

Soda shook his head, scrolling.

“Every time we’re near this crowd, our names end up in one of those things,” Soda said.

Dally grinned, the corner of his mouth curling up.

“Yeah, but you gotta admit, it’s never boring,” Dally said.

I wasn’t so sure. Looking at Lily sitting there, quiet and small against the backdrop of all that luxury, I realized something: in this world, secrets weren’t just whispered. They were published.
And no matter how far we were from Tulsa, the mess always found a way to catch up.

Chapter Text

Chapter 37

Two-Bit’s POV

Man, Upper East Side buildings always felt like museums, quiet, shiny, and the kind of clean that makes you nervous to breathe. We were in Blair Waldorf’s penthouse that afternoon because Darry had volunteered the gang to help move a couple of boxes from the service elevator to the foyer. “Quick job,” he’d said. Sure. The only thing quick about it was how fast Dally found the liquor cabinet.

Blair was halfway down the grand staircase in a silk robe that probably cost more than our house back in Tulsa when the elevator dinged. Vanessa Abrams stepped out, clutching something small and black in her hand. The kind of “something” that makes trouble.

Blair’s heels clicked sharply on the steps.

“Vanessa,” Blair drawled. “What are you doing here?”

Vanessa’s eyes flicked toward all of us, seven grease-stained out-of-towners standing around like misplaced furniture, and she hesitated before holding up the tape.

“I brought you this,” Vanessa said.

Blair’s brows shot up.

“What’s the catch?” Blair asked.

Vanessa shook her head.

“Not everyone operates on an agenda, Blair,” Vanessa said. “Some people do things because it’s the decent thing to do. Smash it, burn it, whatever you want. There are no copies.”

Blair blinked, thrown off for once.

“And the one you gave Chuck?” Blair demanded, stepping closer.

Vanessa’s mouth tilted into a sly smile.

“Blank,” Vanessa said. “Which he’ll be thrilled to discover.”

I let out a low whistle.

“Now that’s cold,” I muttered.

Dally smirked.

“I like her,” Dally said.

Blair turned, still holding the tape as it might explode. She looked at us.

“Well?” Blair said. “Don’t just stand there gawking. You heard her. Smash it. Burn it.”

Soda grinned.

“Which one first, ma’am?” Soda asked.

“Both,” Blair said, voice steady again. “I want it gone.”

Darry crossed his arms.

“Maybe let’s not start any fires indoors, yeah?” Darry said.

Johnny piped up, soft but certain.

“We can take it to the incinerator downstairs,” Johnny offered.

“Fine,” Blair said, waving a dismissive hand. “Just make sure it’s gone.”

Vanessa watched us go, and for a second her eyes met mine. She didn’t look proud or smug, just relieved. Like she’d been carrying something heavy for too long.

As we left through the back hall, Dally murmured, “If that’s how they do favors around here, I’m never sleepin’ again.”

By the time we got back to St. Jude’s, the mood had gone from bad to worse. Gossip Girl had posted again, this time about Nate’s suspension and Serena’s “mystery confession.” The halls buzzed with whispers, and even the teachers looked like they were bracing for impact.

Miss Queller had called Dan Humphrey into her office, and the rest of us were supposed to be “waiting outside.” Which, naturally, meant eavesdropping.

We were all crouched in the hallway, me, Pony, Johnny, and Steve, right near the doorframe. Soda was pretending to read a bulletin board. Dally leaned against the lockers, looking bored but listening hard.
Inside, Miss Queller’s voice was cool and clipped.

“Daniel,” Miss Queller said. “You’re here on a partial scholarship, number two in your class, with a stellar recommendation for Dartmouth. It seems you’ve fallen in with a new crowd. Dating Serena van der Woodsen. Is that noted in your file?”

There was a pause. I could practically hear Dan squirm.

“Is that… in my file?” Dan asked.

Miss Queller closed the folder with a snap.

“Mr. Humphrey, who had the key?” Miss Queller asked.

Dan’s voice came out tight.

“I…I don’t know,” Dan covered.

Miss Queller sighed.

“You’re in a different position, Daniel,” Miss Queller said. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”

Johnny looked at me, frowning.

“She’s pushin’ him too hard,” Johnny murmured.

“Welcome to their world,” I muttered.

That’s when the door opened, and Serena walked in like she was heading to the gallows. Every head turned, even ours. Dally straightened.

“Well, hell,” Dally whispered.

Miss Queller’s expression tightened.

“Miss van der Woodsen,” Miss Queller said. “Your file reads like a rap sheet.”

Serena swallowed hard.

“I’m not that person anymore,” Serena said. “That’s important for you to know, since you’re new here.”

Miss Queller raised an eyebrow.

“And what exactly are you trying to tell me?” Miss Queller asked.

Serena’s eyes flicked to Dan.

“That it was me,” Serena said. “I had the key. I broke into the pool.”

Dan’s face went pale.

“Serena, don’t…” Dan said.

But Serena kept going.

“I did it,” Serena said. “And I’m ready for my punishment.”

The room went silent, so quiet you could hear the air conditioner hum.

“She’s takin’ the fall again,” Pony said.

Soda crossed his arms.

“She’s doin’ what Nate did,” Soda said.

“Difference is,” Dally said, lighting a cigarette he didn’t bother to hide, “this time, it’s the truth.”

Miss Queller exhaled slowly.

“Miss van der Woodsen, you understand the gravity of what you’re admitting?” Miss Queller asked.

“Yes,” Serena said, chin lifting. “But I can’t let anyone else take the blame.”

For a second, even Miss Queller softened. Just a second. Then she nodded.

“You’ll be notified of your suspension terms in writing,” Miss Queller said.

As Serena left the office, she passed us, eyes glassy but proud. Dan followed her, trying to say something, but she shook her head. The door closed behind them, and the hallway felt emptier than before.
Johnny leaned back against the wall.

“People like her… they do dumb things for the right reasons,” Johnny said.

I grinned a little.

“Guess that’s something we all got in common,” I said.

Dally flicked ash into a trash can.

“Welcome to the club, Blondie,” Dally said.

You’d think after all that high-stakes drama, confessions, suspensions, and people practically throwing their reputations out the window, we’d get a quiet day.

No such luck.

The next afternoon, Blair Waldorf strolled into the tiny Brooklyn coffee shop where Vanessa worked, heels clicking like warning bells. We’d been sent there by Darry to “grab a couple of cappuccinos and keep an eye on things.” Translation: spy on the girl who’d just handed Blair her dignity back.

Vanessa was behind the counter, her hair tied up, looking like she’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep for once. When she saw Blair, she nearly dropped a mug.

“Blair? What are you doing here?” Vanessa asked, voice wary but polite.

Blair smiled, that sharp, dangerous kind of smile that made even Dally shut up.

“I just came to deliver some news,” Blair said. “Apparently, your rent for the next year has been paid.”

Vanessa froze.

“What?” Vanessa asked in surprise.

“Apparently,” Blair repeated, her tone dripping with amusement, “your little documentary about New York’s underbelly caught someone’s philanthropic attention. Anonymous donor.” She tilted her head. “You’re welcome.”

Vanessa blinked.

“You paid my rent?” Vanessa asked, startled.

Blair waved a manicured hand.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Blair said. “I don’t like being indebted to anyone. Now that I’ve cleared the ledger, I can go back to properly disliking you.”

Soda leaned toward me.

“That’s her way of sayin’ ‘thank you,’ huh?” Soda asked.

I snorted.

“Guess so,” I said. “Manhattan-style manners.”

Vanessa laughed softly.

“So, that’s it?” Vanessa asked. “No strings?”

Blair’s eyes glinted.

“Only curiosity,” Blair said. “What did you do with Chuck’s money?”

Vanessa leaned her elbows on the counter, a sly smile forming.

“I might have started a medical grant,” Vanessa said. “For teens with genital herpes.” She paused. “In his name.”

There was a heartbeat of stunned silence, then Blair’s hand flew to her mouth, and she actually laughed. A real, unguarded laugh.

“Oh my God,” Blair said between breaths. “That is…”

“Perfect?” Vanessa offered.

“Poetic,” Blair finished, straightening her posture again, like she hadn’t just cracked up in public. “Enjoy your rent, Vanessa. And your newfound moral superiority. I’ll be over here enjoying my croissants.”

“I like her more every time she’s mean,” Dally muttered.

Johnny grinned.

“You like everyone mean,” Johnny said.

“Fair point,” Dally said, heading for the door behind Blair.

By the time we got back to school, word had spread, Miss Queller hadn’t expelled or suspended Serena after all. Instead, she’d given her twenty-five hours of community outreach.

Dan was standing with Serena by the courtyard fountain, still looking stunned.

“She didn’t suspend you,” Dan said. “She didn’t even put it on your record?”

Serena shook her head, smiling a little.

“Nope,” Serena said. “Just twenty-five hours of community service.”

“Guess bein’ rich does come with perks,” Dallas muttered.

But Pony shook his head.

“Nah,” Pony said. “Miss Queller saw she meant it. You could tell.”

Serena overheard that and smiled at him.

“Thanks, Pony,” Serena said.

Pony blushed, scratching his neck.

“Uh…yeah,” Pony said. “You’re welcome.”

I grinned.

“Careful, kid,” I teased. “You’re two smiles away from becoming Upper East Side royalty.”

That night, things went from mild to nuclear.

Bart Bass and Lily van der Woodsen were hosting some kind of “family dinner” at the Bass penthouse, the kind where people toast with champagne and pretend not to hate each other. The gang was there because Bart had decided we were “trustworthy staff.” Darry was coordinating, Soda was serving drinks, and Steve and Johnny were handling the food trays. And Dally I? We were supposed to keep quiet and stay out of trouble.

Fat chance.

The air was rich with money and tension.

Lily sat beside Bart, her ring catching the light like a secret she couldn’t hide. Eric sat quietly, pretending to read the label on his sparkling water. Serena looked like she was holding her breath. Chuck lounged at the bar, pretending he wasn’t watching everyone.

Bart stood and raised his glass.

“To Lily,” Bart said, his tone smooth, rehearsed. “For saying yes.”

The table clinked with crystal, but the sound felt hollow.

Dally leaned toward me.

“He’s got the same warmth as a freezer door,” Dally whispered.

Blair, seated across from Serena, smiled tightly.

“It’s wonderful, really,” Blair said. “True love conquers all.”

Serena’s jaw tightened.

“Yeah,” Serena said. “Sure does.”

Blair’s gaze flicked between Serena and Lily; she knew. Everyone did.

Johnny carried a tray past the table, trying to keep his eyes down, but he couldn’t help glancing at Serena. Her fingers were trembling around her glass.

“We all make mistakes,” Bart continued. “But tonight is about moving forward.”

Steve snorted under his breath.

“Man sounds like he’s giving a business presentation, not a toast,” Steve said.

“Wonder if that’s how he proposed, with a PowerPoint,” Soda whispered.

Lily smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. And I caught that, the way she looked away just a second too long when Bart said “moving forward.”

Because we’d overheard earlier, Rufus on the phone, quiet and broken.

“I can’t,” Lily had told him. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Rufus said.

Serena set her glass down.

“Well,” Serena said, forcing brightness, “cheers to… new beginnings.”

Chuck lifted his drink lazily.

“And old habits,” Chuck said.

That one landed like a slap. Bart shot him a warning look.

Darry stepped in, clearing plates just to break the tension.

“Would anyone care for dessert?” Darry asked, polite but firm.

“Please,” Lily said quickly.

As we carried dishes back to the kitchen, I glanced at Johnny.

“You ever seen people so rich and so miserable at the same time?” I asked.

Johnny gave a small, sad smile.

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Money doesn’t stop hearts from breaking, Two-Bit. Just makes the room bigger when it happens.”

Outside the penthouse windows, the city glittered like it didn’t care who hurt who, just kept shining anyway.

And for once, even I didn’t have a joke.

Chapter Text

Chapter 38

Two-Bit’s POV

Man, Upper East Side buildings always felt like museums, quiet, shiny, and the kind of clean that makes you nervous to breathe. We were in Blair Waldorf’s penthouse that afternoon because Darry had volunteered the gang to help move a couple of boxes from the service elevator to the foyer. “Quick job,” he’d said. Sure. The only thing quick about it was how fast Dally found the liquor cabinet.

Blair was halfway down the grand staircase in a silk robe that probably cost more than our house back in Tulsa when the elevator dinged. Vanessa Abrams stepped out, clutching something small and black in her hand. The kind of “something” that makes trouble.

Blair’s heels clicked sharply on the steps.

“Vanessa,” Blair drawled. “What are you doing here?”

Vanessa’s eyes flicked toward all of us, seven grease-stained out-of-towners standing around like misplaced furniture, and she hesitated before holding up the tape.

“I brought you this,” Vanessa said.

Blair’s brows shot up.

“What’s the catch?” Blair asked.

Vanessa shook her head.

“Not everyone operates on an agenda, Blair,” Vanessa said. “Some people do things because it’s the decent thing to do. Smash it, burn it, whatever you want. There are no copies.”

Blair blinked, thrown off for once.

“And the one you gave Chuck?” Blair demanded, stepping closer.

Vanessa’s mouth tilted into a sly smile.

“Blank,” Vanessa said. “Which he’ll be thrilled to discover.”

I let out a low whistle.

“Now that’s cold,” I muttered.

Dally smirked.

“I like her,” Dally said.

Blair turned, still holding the tape as it might explode. She looked at us.

“Well?” Blair said. “Don’t just stand there gawking. You heard her. Smash it. Burn it.”

Soda grinned.

“Which one first, ma’am?” Soda asked.

“Both,” Blair said, voice steady again. “I want it gone.”

Darry crossed his arms.

“Maybe let’s not start any fires indoors, yeah?” Darry said.

Johnny piped up, soft but certain.

“We can take it to the incinerator downstairs,” Johnny offered.

“Fine,” Blair said, waving a dismissive hand. “Just make sure it’s gone.”

Vanessa watched us go, and for a second her eyes met mine. She didn’t look proud or smug, just relieved. Like she’d been carrying something heavy for too long.

As we left through the back hall, Dally murmured, “If that’s how they do favors around here, I’m never sleepin’ again.”

By the time we got back to St. Jude’s, the mood had gone from bad to worse. Gossip Girl had posted again, this time about Nate’s suspension and Serena’s “mystery confession.” The halls buzzed with whispers, and even the teachers looked like they were bracing for impact.

Miss Queller had called Dan Humphrey into her office, and the rest of us were supposed to be “waiting outside.” Which, naturally, meant eavesdropping.

We were all crouched in the hallway, me, Pony, Johnny, and Steve, right near the doorframe. Soda was pretending to read a bulletin board. Dally leaned against the lockers, looking bored but listening hard.
Inside, Miss Queller’s voice was cool and clipped.

“Daniel,” Miss Queller said. “You’re here on a partial scholarship, number two in your class, with a stellar recommendation for Dartmouth. It seems you’ve fallen in with a new crowd. Dating Serena van der Woodsen. Is that noted in your file?”

There was a pause. I could practically hear Dan squirm.

“Is that… in my file?” Dan asked.

Miss Queller closed the folder with a snap.

“Mr. Humphrey, who had the key?” Miss Queller asked.

Dan’s voice came out tight.

“I…I don’t know,” Dan covered.

Miss Queller sighed.

“You’re in a different position, Daniel,” Miss Queller said. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”

Johnny looked at me, frowning.

“She’s pushin’ him too hard,” Johnny murmured.

“Welcome to their world,” I muttered.

That’s when the door opened, and Serena walked in like she was heading to the gallows. Every head turned, even ours. Dally straightened.

“Well, hell,” Dally whispered.

Miss Queller’s expression tightened.

“Miss van der Woodsen,” Miss Queller said. “Your file reads like a rap sheet.”

Serena swallowed hard.

“I’m not that person anymore,” Serena said. “That’s important for you to know, since you’re new here.”

Miss Queller raised an eyebrow.

“And what exactly are you trying to tell me?” Miss Queller asked.

Serena’s eyes flicked to Dan.

“That it was me,” Serena said. “I had the key. I broke into the pool.”

Dan’s face went pale.

“Serena, don’t…” Dan said.

But Serena kept going.

“I did it,” Serena said. “And I’m ready for my punishment.”

The room went silent, so quiet you could hear the air conditioner hum.

“She’s takin’ the fall again,” Pony said.

Soda crossed his arms.

“She’s doin’ what Nate did,” Soda said.

“Difference is,” Dally said, lighting a cigarette he didn’t bother to hide, “this time, it’s the truth.”

Miss Queller exhaled slowly.

“Miss van der Woodsen, you understand the gravity of what you’re admitting?” Miss Queller asked.

“Yes,” Serena said, chin lifting. “But I can’t let anyone else take the blame.”

For a second, even Miss Queller softened. Just a second. Then she nodded.

“You’ll be notified of your suspension terms in writing,” Miss Queller said.

As Serena left the office, she passed us, eyes glassy but proud. Dan followed her, trying to say something, but she shook her head. The door closed behind them, and the hallway felt emptier than before.
Johnny leaned back against the wall.

“People like her… they do dumb things for the right reasons,” Johnny said.

I grinned a little.

“Guess that’s something we all got in common,” I said.

Dally flicked ash into a trash can.

“Welcome to the club, Blondie,” Dally said.

You’d think after all that high-stakes drama, confessions, suspensions, and people practically throwing their reputations out the window, we’d get a quiet day.

No such luck.

The next afternoon, Blair Waldorf strolled into the tiny Brooklyn coffee shop where Vanessa worked, heels clicking like warning bells. We’d been sent there by Darry to “grab a couple of cappuccinos and keep an eye on things.” Translation: spy on the girl who’d just handed Blair her dignity back.

Vanessa was behind the counter, her hair tied up, looking like she’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep for once. When she saw Blair, she nearly dropped a mug.

“Blair? What are you doing here?” Vanessa asked, voice wary but polite.

Blair smiled, that sharp, dangerous kind of smile that made even Dally shut up.

“I just came to deliver some news,” Blair said. “Apparently, your rent for the next year has been paid.”

Vanessa froze.

“What?” Vanessa asked in surprise.

“Apparently,” Blair repeated, her tone dripping with amusement, “your little documentary about New York’s underbelly caught someone’s philanthropic attention. Anonymous donor.” She tilted her head. “You’re welcome.”

Vanessa blinked.

“You paid my rent?” Vanessa asked, startled.

Blair waved a manicured hand.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Blair said. “I don’t like being indebted to anyone. Now that I’ve cleared the ledger, I can go back to properly disliking you.”

Soda leaned toward me.

“That’s her way of sayin’ ‘thank you,’ huh?” Soda asked.

I snorted.

“Guess so,” I said. “Manhattan-style manners.”

Vanessa laughed softly.

“So, that’s it?” Vanessa asked. “No strings?”

Blair’s eyes glinted.

“Only curiosity,” Blair said. “What did you do with Chuck’s money?”

Vanessa leaned her elbows on the counter, a sly smile forming.

“I might have started a medical grant,” Vanessa said. “For teens with genital herpes.” She paused. “In his name.”

There was a heartbeat of stunned silence, then Blair’s hand flew to her mouth, and she actually laughed. A real, unguarded laugh.

“Oh my God,” Blair said between breaths. “That is…”

“Perfect?” Vanessa offered.

“Poetic,” Blair finished, straightening her posture again, like she hadn’t just cracked up in public. “Enjoy your rent, Vanessa. And your newfound moral superiority. I’ll be over here enjoying my croissants.”

“I like her more every time she’s mean,” Dally muttered.

Johnny grinned.

“You like everyone mean,” Johnny said.

“Fair point,” Dally said, heading for the door behind Blair.

By the time we got back to school, word had spread, Miss Queller hadn’t expelled or suspended Serena after all. Instead, she’d given her twenty-five hours of community outreach.

Dan was standing with Serena by the courtyard fountain, still looking stunned.

“She didn’t suspend you,” Dan said. “She didn’t even put it on your record?”

Serena shook her head, smiling a little.

“Nope,” Serena said. “Just twenty-five hours of community service.”

“Guess bein’ rich does come with perks,” Dallas muttered.

But Pony shook his head.

“Nah,” Pony said. “Miss Queller saw she meant it. You could tell.”

Serena overheard that and smiled at him.

“Thanks, Pony,” Serena said.

Pony blushed, scratching his neck.

“Uh…yeah,” Pony said. “You’re welcome.”

I grinned.

“Careful, kid,” I teased. “You’re two smiles away from becoming Upper East Side royalty.”

That night, things went from mild to nuclear.

Bart Bass and Lily van der Woodsen were hosting some kind of “family dinner” at the Bass penthouse, the kind where people toast with champagne and pretend not to hate each other. The gang was there because Bart had decided we were “trustworthy staff.” Darry was coordinating, Soda was serving drinks, and Steve and Johnny were handling the food trays. And Dally? We were supposed to keep quiet and stay out of trouble.

Fat chance.

The air was rich with money and tension.

Lily sat beside Bart, her ring catching the light like a secret she couldn’t hide. Eric sat quietly, pretending to read the label on his sparkling water. Serena looked like she was holding her breath. Chuck lounged at the bar, pretending he wasn’t watching everyone.

Bart stood and raised his glass.

“To Lily,” Bart said, his tone smooth, rehearsed. “For saying yes.”

The table clinked with crystal, but the sound felt hollow.

Dally leaned toward me.

“He’s got the same warmth as a freezer door,” Dally whispered.

Blair, seated across from Serena, smiled tightly.

“It’s wonderful, really,” Blair said. “True love conquers all.”

Serena’s jaw tightened.

“Yeah,” Serena said. “Sure does.”

Blair’s gaze flicked between Serena and Lily; she knew. Everyone did.

Johnny carried a tray past the table, trying to keep his eyes down, but he couldn’t help glancing at Serena. Her fingers were trembling around her glass.

“We all make mistakes,” Bart continued. “But tonight is about moving forward.”

Steve snorted under his breath.

“Man sounds like he’s giving a business presentation, not a toast,” Steve said.

“Wonder if that’s how he proposed, with a PowerPoint,” Soda whispered.

Lily smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. And I caught that, the way she looked away just a second too long when Bart said “moving forward.”

Because we’d overheard earlier, Rufus on the phone, quiet and broken.

“I can’t,” Lily had told him. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Rufus said.

Serena set her glass down.

“Well,” Serena said, forcing brightness, “cheers to… new beginnings.”

Chuck lifted his drink lazily.

“And old habits,” Chuck said.

That one landed like a slap. Bart shot him a warning look.

Darry stepped in, clearing plates just to break the tension.

“Would anyone care for dessert?” Darry asked, polite but firm.

“Please,” Lily said quickly.

As we carried dishes back to the kitchen, I glanced at Johnny.

“You ever seen people so rich and so miserable at the same time?” I asked.

Johnny gave a small, sad smile.

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Money doesn’t stop hearts from breaking, Two-Bit. Just makes the room bigger when it happens.”

Outside the penthouse windows, the city glittered like it didn’t care who hurt who, just kept shining anyway.

And for once, even I didn’t have a joke.

Chapter Text

Chapter 39

Steve’s POV

Morning hit the city like it always did, sharp, loud, and too bright for how messy last night had been. Bart’s engagement toast was still buzzing through everyone’s phones thanks to Gossip Girl, and somehow, the day was about to get worse.

We’d split up after breakfast duty at the Bass place. Dally and Soda took the van for errands, Darry had a meeting with the building manager, and I tagged along with Pony and Johnny to the corner drugstore to grab snacks. That’s when we saw her.

Serena van der Woodsen, the golden girl herself, standing in the pharmacy aisle, sunglasses halfway down her nose, looking around like she was robbing the place.

Pony froze.

“Is she…?” Pony asked.

“Buying pregnancy tests?” Johnny whispered, eyes wide. “Aw, man.”

I tried to look casual as I pretended to study the gum rack.

“Yup,” I said. “And she’s about to be the top headline.”

And sure enough, not five seconds later, a girl with a phone out snapped a picture. Flash. Gone.

Johnny groaned.

“That’s goin’ straight to Gossip Girl, ain’t it?” Johnny asked.

“Faster than a Greaser runnin’ from a Soc,” I muttered.

By the time we got to the Humphrey loft, it had already spread.

Jenny shrieked so loud I thought someone was dying.

“DAN!” Jenny shrieked.

Dan came barreling down the hall, half-dressed, hair sticking up.

“What?” Dan asked. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

We were there because Darry had arranged with Rufus for us to help set up some furniture he’d been fixing for the gallery. So yeah, front row seats to a meltdown.

Rufus ran in behind Dan, spatula still in hand.

“Jenny!” Rufus said. “What’s going on?”

Jenny froze, eyes huge.

“Nothing!” Jenny said, covering herself. “Nothing’s wrong. I was, uh, just testing my scream. To see how efficient it was.”

I cracked up before I could stop myself.

“Ten outta ten, kid,” I said. “Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Dan narrowed his eyes.

“Permission to kill her?” Dan asked Rufus.

“Denied,” Rufus said automatically. Then, frowning, “Jenny, what are you hiding on that computer?”

Jenny spun the chair around.

“Nothing!” Jenny said.

Rufus folded his arms.

“That’s not convincing,” Rufus said.

“Okay, fine!” Jenny said, panicked. “Just… please give me a little privacy!”

Instead, Rufus and Dan each grabbed a side of her chair and rolled her away from the desk.

“Dad!” Jenny squealed. “Dan! Stop!”

Pony peeked over their shoulders.

“Oh boy,” Pony said.

There it was, the Gossip Girl blast, front and center:

SPOTTED: S.V.D.W. picking up something a little more mature at the pharmacy. Baby bottles or just bottle service? XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Dan stared at the screen as it punched him in the gut.

“Oh my god,” Dan said.

Jenny squirmed.

“See?” Jenny said. “I told you it wasn’t that bad?”

Rufus took a deep breath, the kind parents do before they blow.

“Jenny, boys, could you give Dan and me a minute?” Rufus asked.

We scattered fast. Dally would’ve been proud.

That’s when we decided it was time to go to school.

Pony and I walked toward Constance with Eric and Serena. Eric’s phone buzzed, and he frowned at the screen.

“Uh… S?” Eric said carefully. “Anything you want to tell me?”

Serena rolled her eyes.

“Yeah,” Serena said. “That your hair color’s wrong for your skin tone.”

“Ha ha,” Eric said dryly, holding up his phone. “No, seriously. This.”

It was the same Gossip Girl photo. Serena is holding the test.

Serena stopped walking, staring at it like it was a bad dream.

“Oh, for the love of…” Serena said.

“Guess secrets don’t stay secret long here,” Johnny murmured to me.

“Nope,” I said. “They just get push notifications.”

Back at the loft, Dan and Rufus sat in that heavy, uncomfortable silence that only dads and sons can pull off.

“Say something,” Dan blurted. “Anything. The silence is worse.”

Rufus sighed.

“I’m just… thinking,” Rufus said. “Teenage fatherhood isn’t exactly what your mother or I had planned for you.”

Dan blinked.

“You think…Dad, I didn’t plan it either!” San said. “But whatever Serena decides, I’ll be there. I love her.”

“Dan…” Rufus said.

“No, really,” Dan said, voice firm now. “I love Serena. Whether she’s pregnant or not. I do.”

Rufus nodded slowly.

“Then you need to talk to her,” Rufus said. “Maybe it’s not even true.”

Dan frowned.

“Did you even hear what I said?” Dan asked.

“I did,” Rufus said, standing. “I just hope you heard what I said.”

Then he walked out.

Johnny, standing by the kitchen.

“Man, that’s cold,” Johnny whispered.

Pony nodded.

“That’s… Dad-level disappointment right there,” Pony murmured.

Back at Constance, Serena walked up the steps, every eye on her. Whispers followed.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST: The golden girl’s glow, baby bump, or bad lighting? Only time (and a pee stick) will tell. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

She kept her chin high, but I could tell it stung.

Then Dan appeared at the gate.

“Dan!” Serena said, walking up fast. “I’ve been calling you nonstop all morning!”

Dan rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I left my phone at home,” Dan said.

“Convenient,” Dally muttered beside me.

Dan looked serious.

“Look, just let me go first. I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me,” Dansaidd. “But whatever happens, whatever you decide, I’m here.”

Serena blinked, then sighed.

“Dan, I’m not pregnant,” Serena said. “So you don’t have to say that.”

Dan froze.

“You’re… not?” Dan asked.

“No,” Serena said. “And I know you would’ve done the right thing. Thank you. That’s really sweet.”

“Of course,” Dan said, relief washing over him. “That’s great news. Like - Rufus-throwing-a-party great news.”

Serena laughed.

“Can we talk later?” Serena asked. “I have to meet Blair.”

Jenny was already at the MET steps with Blair and her posse when we arrived. Blair’s voice carried sharply over the city noise.

“Jenny, you’re late,” Blair said.

Jenny looked flustered.

“Sorry!” Jenny said. “I had to drop something off at the library.”

Blair’s eyes narrowed.

“Do me a favor,” Blair said. “Drop down a couple of steps.”

Jenny sighed and did.

“You know, this hazing thing’s getting a little old,” Jenny said.

“The hazing stops when I say it stops,” Blair said smoothly. “And only my friends call me B.”

Jenny rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” Jenny said. “I’ve got stuff to do before class.
”
Jenny stormed off, passing Serena on the steps. Serena’s eyes softened as she watched Jenny leave, probably remembering what it felt like to be the new girl in a world that ate you alive.

Serena turned back.

“Hi, Blair,” Serena said. “And before you ask, no, I’m not pregnant.”

Blair blinked.

“Well, that’s one less scandal to clean up,” Blair said.

“Can we talk? Alone?” Serena asked.

Blair crossed her arms.

“You texted me,” Blair said. “You told Dan you’re not pregnant. What’s left to say?”

Serena sighed.

“You really want to play this game?” Serena asked. “The one where, when things don’t go your way, you pretend they don’t exist? Like it’s some movie of your perfect life, and you’re the only one watching?”

Blair stiffened.

“Excuse me?” Blair said.

“You told me your period was late,” Serena pressed. “You’ve been acting crazy all week.”

Blair’s face flushed.

“I had a chem test Friday, Serena,” Blair said.

“Right,” Serena said. “So the whole ‘acting like a total bitch’ thing wasn’t hormonal?”

Blair’s voice rose.

“Maybe I am a total bitch!” Blair retorted. “Did that ever occur to you?”

Serena smiled faintly and held something out, the same little box from the pharmacy.

“Then prove it,” Serena said. “Take the test.”

Blair stepped back.

“Stop it,” Blair said.

“Just take it,” Serena said softly. “You need to know if you and Chuck are about to have a baby.”

The whole courtyard went silent. Even Dally, for once, didn’t have a comeback.

Then, phones buzzed again.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST: Looks like Queen B’s crown might need an extra jewel. Can you say baby bump in Bergdorf’s? XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Pony exhaled.

“And there it is,” Pony said.

I shook my head.

“Man, we thought the Socs were bad,” I said. “At least they didn’t have push notifications.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 40

Dally’s POV

Morning in Manhattan hit different, too clean, too bright, too damn smug. The kind of morning that makes you wanna scuff up the marble just to remind the city that dirt still exists.

School didn’t start for another hour, but the courtyard at St. Jude’s was already packed, kids in pressed blazers, girls in headbands, and the gang scattered across the benches like we’d been born to make trouble before breakfast.

That’s when I spotted Blair Waldorf. Queen Bee herself. She was over by the picnic tables with Nate Archibald, golden boy, perfect jaw, about as shiny as they come. And they weren’t just talking. They were kissing.

Two-Bit whistled low.

“Well, well,” Two-Bit said. “Guess the royal court’s back together.”

Soda elbowed him, grinning.

“Think we should clap?” Soda teased. “They’re putting on quite a show.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Darry warned, leaning against the tree with his arms crossed. “We’re keepin’ low today.”

Yeah, good luck with that. Chuck Bass was ten feet away, hiding behind a stone column, watching the whole thing go down like a wolf in a cashmere scarf. His smirk was dangerous, the kind that said he already had a plan.

Pony noticed first.

“He’s watching them,” Pony whispered. “Chuck. Look at his face.”

Johnny followed his gaze, frowning.

“He looks…hurt,” Johnny said.

“Or mad,” Steve added. “Real mad.”

“Same thing in this crowd,” I muttered.

Blair pulled back from the kiss, her lip gloss shining.

“What’s the favor, Nate?” Blair asked, sweet as spun sugar but sharp underneath.

Nate hesitated, fingers still brushing her arm.

“I need you to come with me to see my dad,” Nate said. “In rehab.”

That got Soda’s attention.

“Rehab?” Soda asked. “The guy’s old man’s in rehab? Thought these people just drank champagne for breakfast.”

“Guess even rich folks hit bottom sometimes,” Darry said quietly.

Blair blinked at Nate.

“Really?” Blair asked.

“Yeah,” Nate said, his voice soft. “It gets weird…awkward. I never know what to say to him anymore. But you, he loves you, B. You make him laugh.”

Something in Blair’s face softened.

“You’ve never asked me for anything,” Blair said. “So now you’re officially leaning on me. That’s progress, Archibald.”

Nate smiled.

“We’re already better, Blair,” Nate said. “Better this time.”

Then Nate leaned in again.

And right then, Blair saw him, Chuck, watching from behind the pillar. His eyes burned like gasoline under a match. She saw him, and still… she kissed Nate harder.

Two-Bit winced.

“Ouch,” Two-Bit said. “That’s cold.”

Johnny bit his lip.

“She did it on purpose,” Johnny said.

“Yeah,” I said, flicking my lighter open and closed. “That’s her power move. She ain’t just kissing Nate, she’s sending Chuck a message.”

Pony scribbled something in his notebook.

“What message?” Pony asked.

“That he doesn’t own her,” I said. “Or maybe that she still wants him to think he does.”

Darry shot me a look.

“And you’d know that how?” Darry asked.

I shrugged.

“You pick up a few things watchin’ girls play with fire,” I said.

Before any of us could blink, the Gossip Girl blast hit every phone in the courtyard at once. Screens lit up like fireflies.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: Blair Waldorf and Nate Archibald locking lips before the first bell. Looks like the golden couple is back on. But someone’s not cheering. Chuck Bass, caught watching from the sidelines. Trouble in paradise? Bet your brunch money on it. And rumor has it, our favorite Tulsa troublemakers were front-row witnesses. Welcome to the Upper East Side, boys, where love is war and everyone’s armed.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit threw his hands up.

“Front-row witnesses?” Two-Bit said. “We didn’t even say nothin’ yet!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve said, reading over his shoulder. “We’re in it now.”

Soda grinned like it was a game.

“Kinda feels like we’re in a movie, huh?” Soda said. “One of those classy soap operas.”

“More like a train wreck,” Darry muttered.

Chuck finally stepped out from the shadows, scarf perfect, expression calm, too calm. That kind of calm that comes before a storm.

Blair pulled away from Nate just long enough to glance his way.

“Good morning, Chuck,” Blair said, voice cool, sharp as frost.

Chuck’s smirk didn’t move.

“Morning, Blair,” Chuck said. “Morning, Nate. Lovely display.”

Nate frowned.

“Chuck, it’s not what…” Nate said.

“Relax,” Chuck interrupted, his tone lazy. “I’m thrilled. Nothing like watching old habits die hard.”

Two-Bit leaned close to me.

“You think he’s gonna start somethin’?” Two-Bit asked.

“He already did,” I said, lighting my cigarette. “He just hasn’t told them yet.”

Johnny’s eyes followed Chuck as he turned and walked off.

“He looks like he’s planning something,” Johnny said.

“Good,” Steve said darkly. “Means we won’t be bored.”

Darry shot him a glare.

“We’re stayin’ out of it,” Darry said. “You hear me? No part of this.”

“Sure,” I said, exhaling smoke. “We’re ghosts.”

But I knew better. You can’t stay invisible in this city. Not when Gossip Girl’s already got your name.

Blair brushed invisible dust off her blazer and smiled up at Nate, pretending like nothing had happened.

“You’re right,” Blair said. “We’re already better.”

“Yeah,” Nate said, smiling.

But from where I stood, watching Chuck’s retreating figure vanish into the crowd, I knew that wasn’t the end of it. Not even close.

You could feel it in the air, that shift before something blows up.

And for once, I wasn’t the one holding the lighter.

The city looked different after the last bell, still noisy, still rich, but slower somehow. We were all crammed in the Humphrey loft that night, sitting around the kitchen table, half-tired, half-curious about what kinda trouble this family could find next.

Jenny was typing on her laptop, tapping the keys like they owed her money. Dan was pacing, a mug in his hand that probably had more nerves than coffee in it. Pony was helping Johnny with some homework on the couch, Soda was flipping through a record collection like it was alien tech, and Two-Bit had found the cookie jar, which meant it was half-empty already.

Me? I was leaning against the counter, watching the show.

Dan finally sighed and looked at Jenny.

“Well, at least you know now,” Dan said.

Jenny didn’t even look up.

“Know what?” Jenny said. “That I wasted the year trying to be friends with someone who’s never going to like me?”

Dan smirked, but it was a tired one.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “That’s exactly it.”

Johnny glanced up from the couch.

“That Blair girl, right?” Johnny asked.

Jenny nodded miserably.

“She’s awful,” Jenny said.

Two-Bit grinned.

“Hey, look on the bright side, kid, at least she’s not tryin’ to drown you in a fountain like the girls back home,” Two-Bit teased.

That earned a weak laugh from Soda.

“Yeah, New York bullies use social media,” Soda said. “Tulsa ones just use fists.”

The elevator doors rattled, and Rufus came walking in, scarf on, phone in hand.

“Hey, guys,” Rufus said. “So?”

Dan perked up.

“Hey, Dad,” Dan said. “You’re not gonna be a grandpa."

For a second, Rufus froze, then relief hit his face so hard I almost laughed.

“That’s… cool,” Rufus said. “That’s really cool. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

Everyone cracked up. Even I couldn’t help it. Rufus looked like a man who’d just dodged a train.

Dan chuckled, shaking his head.

“And I thought I was relieved,” Dan said.

Rufus’s grin faded a little as he poured coffee.

“Still, it’s not all good news, huh?” Rufus asked.

Dan sighed.

“No,” Dan said. “I told Serena that I loved her… and she thought I only said it because she was pregnant.”

Soda winced.

“Ouch,” Soda said.

Pony frowned.

“That’s rough,” Pony said.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Rookie move. Timing, man… timing’s everything.”

Rufus leaned on the counter, calm as only a parent could be after a lifetime of disasters.

“That’s probably for the best, Dan,” Rufus said. “Gives you time to step back. Enjoy being seventeen. You and Serena were moving fast.”

“Too fast,” Darry said quietly, arms crossed from the far corner. He’d stayed quiet most of the night, watching all this like he was taking notes on how to raise kids in a world that didn’t have curfews or common sense.

Rufus checked his watch.

“I’m late for the gallery, so we’ll talk more later, okay?” Rufus said.

Dan nodded, but the disappointment hung there like fog.

The door closed behind Rufus, and the loft went quiet for a second.

Then Jenny turned in her chair, crossing her arms.

“You’re really just gonna let that go?” Jenny asked Dan.

Dan frowned.

“What are you talking about?” Dan asked.

“I’ve never seen you give up so easily,” Jenny said.

“Can you not start with me right now?” Dan shot back.

Jenny smirked.

“Can you not be so easy to start with?” Jenny teased.

Two-Bit snorted.

“She’s got you there, bro,” Two-Bit said.

Dan glared at him.

“Do you mind?” Dan asked.

Two-Bit gestured with a cookie.

“Just sayin’... she’s not wrong,” Two-Bit said.

Jenny leaned in, ignoring him.

“Why are you listening to Dad?” Jenny asked. “He’s old and alone.”

Soda choked on his coffee.

“Jenny!” Soda laughed.

Jenny shrugged.

“I’m not wrong either,” Jenny said.

Dan stared at her, stunned.

“What?” Dan asked.

Jenny softened a little.

“I mean, tell Serena you love her again,” Jenny said. “But this time, without all the drama. No rumors, no pregnancy scares. Just you, her, quiet. Let her hear it.”

Johnny nodded thoughtfully.

“That’s good advice,” Johnny said.

“Yeah,” Pony added. “If it’s real, you shouldn’t need a crisis to say it.”

Dan blinked, looking from them to Jenny.

“What do you even know about romance, friends, or anything else?” Dan asked.

Jenny smiled faintly.

“Apparently enough to fix your mess,” Jenny said.

Dan’s expression softened.

“No, don’t say that,” Dan said. “It’s… good advice.”

Jenny smiled for real then.

“Yeah?” Jenny said. “What would you do without me?”

Dan leaned back in his chair and exhaled.

“Promise I’ll find out one day,” Dan said.

Two-Bit laughed so hard he nearly dropped his cookie.

“Oh, that’s cold!” Two-Bit laughed. “That’s older brother levels of savage!”

Darry rolled his eyes.

“Alright, enough,” Darry said. “You two done torturing each other?”

Jenny grinned.

“Maybe,” Jenny said.

Soda raised his soda can.

“To teenage love, drama, and dodging parenthood!” Soda said.

I smirked, clinking my bottle against his.

“And to not end up on Gossip Girl tonight,” I said.

Right then, Johnny’s phone buzzed. He looked at it and froze.

Pony peeked over his shoulder.

“Too late,” Pony said.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST:

Looks like the Humphrey loft just got a little lighter, no grandbaby on the way after all. But is love really over, or just catching its breath? Better luck next trimester, Lonely Boy. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit groaned.

“Man, she doesn’t miss anything,” Two-Bit complained.

Dan just sighed, head in his hands.

“I hate this city,” Dan said.

I grinned.

“Yeah, but it sure knows how to keep things interesting,” I said.

Chapter Text

Johnny’s POV

The Waldorf penthouse looked even bigger at night, all gold light and glass, like the city itself had dressed up to impress. Blair was stretched out across her bed, laptop open, tapping away at some school essay like the world hadn’t been gossiping about her for weeks. For once, she looked peaceful.

I was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Pony, helping him look over some reading notes. Soda and Two-Bit were trying to fix the string of fairy lights that kept flickering, and Dally was sprawled on the chaise lounge like he owned the place, flipping through Vogue like it was the latest issue of True Crime Weekly. Darry and Steve were in the other room helping Eleanor pack for some fashion thing in Milan.

It was quiet, strangely quiet for this place, until the elevator dinged.

Serena glided in, blonde hair shining as she’d walked straight out of one of those perfume commercials she probably had been in. She hesitated in the doorway when she saw us, but Blair didn’t even look up.

“What are you doing here?” Blair asked coolly, fingers still typing.

Serena’s smile flickered.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Serena said.

Dally snorted.

“In this neighborhood, that means two blocks and a tax bracket,” Dally said.

Serena shot him a look before turning back to Blair.

“We need to talk,” Serena said.

“Can it wait?” Blair asked. “I’m actually having a decent day, which is more than I can say for most weeks you show up.”

“Oof,” Two-Bit whispered to Soda. “She’s loading the chamber.”

Blair finally closed her laptop, setting it on the blanket beside her.

“Guess who asked me to see The Captain with him?” Blair said.

Serena frowned, trying to play along.

“Nate?” Serena asked.

Blair smiled, triumphant.

“Correct,” Blair said. “It’s like he finally needs me again, and he’s not afraid to admit it.”

Pony looked up from his notebook, half curious.

“That’s… the guy with the blue eyes, right?” Pony asked.

“Yeah, kid,” Soda said. “The one every girl on this side of the Hudson’s writing poems about.”

Serena stepped closer to the bed, her voice soft.

“I get why you’re clinging to this moment, B,” Serena said. “But I’m not giving up.”

Blair’s tone sharpened.

“I’m sorry that, unlike some people, I haven’t been on the pill since I was fifteen,” Blair retorted.

Two-Bit choked on his hot chocolate. Dally whistled low. Pony turned red. Even Darry’s voice drifted faintly from the kitchen.

“Watch your language in there!” Darry said.

Serena sighed, rubbing her temples.

“Fine,” Serena said. “I give up.” She started to turn away, but then hesitated. “Just… before you start planning your perfect night…”

“I’m not pregnant,” Blair snapped, cutting her off. Her voice wobbled for just a second, then steadied. “There. Happy?”

Serena’s face softened, but she just nodded.

“Yeah,” Serena said. “I am.” And then she was gone, her heels clicking across the marble like the end of a movie scene.

The silence she left behind was heavy.

Soda finally spoke, voice low.

“Man… she dropped that bomb and walked right out,” Soda said.

Blair looked at all of us, eyes flashing with that fierce pride again.

“Don’t you all have somewhere else to be?” Blair asked.

Dally grinned.

“Nope,” Dally said.

Steve leaned against the doorway, smirking.

“We’re on call as emotional support greasers,” Steve said.

Blair sighed, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

“Fine,” Blair said. “Stay. But if anyone tells Gossip Girl about this conversation, I will personally destroy you.”

Two-Bit saluted.

“Yes, your majesty,” Two-Bit said.

Pony leaned closer to me.

“You think they’ll ever stop fighting?” Pony asked.

I shook my head, watching Blair reopen her laptop like nothing had happened.

“Nah,” I said. “Some people only know how to love by fightin’ for it.”

Outside, snow kept falling over the skyline, quiet and slow, like it was trying to hush the whole city for just one night. But we all knew better; Manhattan never stayed quiet for long.

Because right then, every phone in the room buzzed.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: B in her tower, laptop in hand, and drama at her door. Looks like S’s surprise visit didn’t end in baby news, but maybe it ended a friendship. And those mysterious Tulsa boys? Still hanging around like guardian angels or guilty witnesses. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit groaned.

“Guardian angels, my ass,” Two-Bit said.

Soda grinned.

“Could be worse,” Soda said. “At least she didn’t call us servants.”

Blair rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smirk.

“Trust me,” Blair said. “You’re doing better than most of Manhattan.”

And somehow, sitting there on the softest rug I’d ever felt, surrounded by glittering lights and people who didn’t belong in the same world, I realized we’d all kind of found a weird place in it anyway.

The next night felt like stepping into a movie set someone built out of brick and coffee.

The Humphrey loft smelled like tomatoes and garlic, a kind of cozy that reminded me of home, except instead of Darry yelling about burnt toast, we had Dan Humphrey nervously stirring sauce like it was rocket science.

“Alright, fellas,” Dan said, wiping his hands on a towel. “If you’re gonna be fake waiters, you at least gotta look the part.”

Dally rolled his eyes, tugging on a borrowed apron.

“Buddy, I ain’t worn one of these since juvie made me serve mashed potatoes,” Dally said.

“Yeah, and you’re not servin’ anyone here,” Darry warned, handing him a dish towel like it was a weapon. “We’re just helping this kid set the mood.”

Soda leaned against the counter, flashing that easy grin.

“Man, this is romantic as hell,” Soda said. “Candlelight, spaghetti, a girl who looks like she fell outta a shampoo commercial. You sure you need us, Humphrey? Feels like you got this.”

Dan shook his head, half-laughing, half-terrified.

“You don’t know Serena,” Dan said. “She’s used to five-star dining and personal chefs. I just want her to feel…normal.”

Pony smiled softly.

“Sounds like you already got what matters right,” Pony said.

Steve snorted.

“Yeah, if she doesn’t choke on your sauce,” Steve teased.

That got a laugh out of everyone, even Dan.

The elevator chimed, and Serena stepped out like the whole room had brightened just to make her look good. She had her hair down and wore this soft sweater that didn’t look designer but still somehow perfect. Dan straightened instantly, almost knocking over the salad bowl.

“Man’s in deep,” Two-Bit whispered to me.

Dinner started simple: spaghetti, candles, and Darry playing reluctant maître d’, handing out plates like we were in some downtown café. Soda and Steve kept trying to refill Serena’s water before she’d even sipped it. Pony offered Parmesan like he was auditioning for a job. And me? I just kept quiet, trying not to laugh every time Dally muttered about “domestic nonsense.”

But halfway through, Serena stopped twirling her fork. She just stared at her plate.

Dan noticed right away.

“Hey… what’s wrong?” Dan asked. “Is it something I cooked?”

Serena shook her head quickly, forcing a small smile.

“No, it’s perfect,” Serena said. “Best spaghetti I’ve ever tasted.”

“Really?” Dan asked, half-teasing, half-hopeful.

“Yes,” Serena said, smiling a little wider. “Even if you had to drag it out of me.”

Dan chuckled, reaching across the table to take her hand.

“Thank you,” Dan said. “Even if I had to drag that compliment out of you.”

Serena laughed softly, cheeks flushing.

“Smooth,” Dally mouthed under his breath, earning a shove from Steve.

Dan brushed his lips across Serena’s hand, just in time for the loft lights to flicker on.

“Hey, guys,” Jenny called, standing in the doorway with a juice box. “What’s going on?”

Serena blinked, awkward smile returning.

“Hi, Jenny,” Serena said.

Dan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Jen, could you… Maybe go back to your room?” Dan asked.

“I’m just getting juice,” Jenny said defensively. “Jeez.”

“Jenny,” Dan said again, trying to keep his voice even. “Can you drink it at Vanessa’s?”

Jenny raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Jenny said. “I’ll drink it in my room. With the door closed. Headphones in. Pretend this isn’t happening.”

She took her juice, flicked the lights back off, and disappeared down the hall.

“Kid’s got boundaries, I’ll give her that,” Darry muttered.

Dan sighed.

“Great,” Dan said. “Thanks.” He turned back to Serena, trying to shake it off. “Where were we?”

Serena giggled.

“Um… somewhere between candlelight and chaos?” Serena said.

Dan smiled sheepishly.

“Right,” Dan said. “Let’s try this again.” He leaned forward, eyes soft. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, so it can be on our minds, and we can both worry about what’s on your mind together?”

Serena blinked.

“I have no idea what you just said,” Serena said.

“Yeah, me neither,” Dan admitted, grinning. “But I’m saying… talk to me.”

“He’s better at kissing hands than words,” Two-Bit whispered.

Soda elbowed him.

“Shut up, man, it’s gettin’ good,” Soda teased.

Serena took a deep breath.

“I never thought I was pregnant,” Serena said.

The air went still. Even Dally stopped smirking.

Serena looked down at her hands.

“The tests… they weren’t for me,” Serena said. “They were for Blair.”

Dan blinked.

“Wait,” Dan said, confused. “Blair? But she just got back together with Nate.”

Serena’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“It wasn’t Nate,” Serena said.

Dan frowned.

“Then who?” Dan asked.

Serena hesitated, then met his eyes.

“Chuck,” Serena whispered.

The room seemed to hum with the weight of the name. Soda let out a low whistle. Pony froze mid-note in his notebook. Darry muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “figures.”

Dan leaned back, trying to process it.

“Chuck?” Dan asked. “Why isn’t he the one buying the test?”

“Because…” Serena started, then trailed off.

“Because he’s an ass?” Dan offered flatly.

Serena exhaled, a sad smile tugging at her lips.

“He doesn’t know,” Serena said.

“Why not?” Dan asked.

Serena looked down again.

“He has this… influence over Blair,” Serena said. “It’s complicated. I’m just worried about her.”

While she spoke, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, Jenny, standing half-hidden by her bedroom door, listening. Her juice box sat forgotten on the counter. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I could tell. But she couldn’t help it.

Dan’s expression softened. He reached out, pulling Serena into a hug, quiet and protective. She sank into it, all the tension leaving her shoulders.

Soda grinned at the sight.

“Now that’s better than any chick flick,” Soda whispered.

Darry elbowed him hard.

“Can it,” Darry warned.

In the candlelight, they looked like the world outside didn’t exist, just two people holding on while everything around them spun.

Of course, right on cue, everyone’s phones buzzed.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: S & Lonely Boy sharing spaghetti, secrets, and maybe a little sauce on the side. But what’s this? Word from inside sources says a certain Waldorf girl isn’t the only one tangled up with Bass. The Tulsa crew moonlighting as waiters? Adorable. Let’s just hope they’re better at keeping secrets than serving water.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit groaned.

“Man, we didn’t even do anything this time!” Two-Bit said.

Dally smirked, flicking off his apron.

“That’s the thing about this city, kid, you don’t gotta do nothin’,” Dally said. “Someone’ll still make a story outta you.”

And as Serena laughed softly into Dan’s shoulder, I couldn’t help thinking he was right.

In Manhattan, secrets didn’t stay quiet long, no matter who was listening.

Chapter Text

Chapter 42

Pony’s POV

The next afternoon, the air in Rufus’s art gallery smelled like paint, wood polish, and dust, kind of homey in a weird way. Darry said it was “organized chaos,” but to me it just looked like someone had turned their feelings into a room full of color.

We were helping move canvases from storage. Steve and Soda were carrying a long crate across the floor, while Two-Bit and Dally argued about whether a sculpture looked like a toaster or a person. Johnny and I were helping wrap frames in brown paper. Rufus was talking to some brunette woman near the front, using that calm voice adults get when they’re trying to sound professional but not bored.

“This,” Rufus said, gesturing to a painting with bold streaks of blue and gold, “is the most amazing purchase you’ll ever make in your life.”

The woman smiled, tilting her head.

“And how close are you to the end of your work day?” The woman asked.

Rufus smiled politely.

“Not quite yet,” Rufus said. “I’ve got a few canvases to wrap, some paperwork…”

The woman gave Rufus this look, the kind that said she wasn’t talking about business.

“I’m trying to get you to ask me out for after-work drinks, Rufus,” The woman said.

Soda nearly dropped his end of the crate, grinning.

“Man, she’s just sayin’ it plain!” Soda said.

Steve elbowed him.

“Shut up, lover boy,” Steve grumbled.

Rufus blinked, caught off guard.

“Oh…oh,” Rufus said with a blush. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“He’s smoother with paint than women,” Johnny whispered to me.

Before Rufus could answer, the bell over the door jingled. Another woman walked in, tall, confident, and wearing a dark coat that matched her sharp voice.

The brunette noticed her immediately.

“Well,” the woman said to Rufus, slipping a card into his hand, “I guess you’re not done for the day after all. But when you are… call.”

The woman smiled, turned, and walked out, heels clicking like punctuation marks.

Two-Bit leaned close to Dally.

“Man’s got options,” Two-Bit said.

Dally smirked.

“Yeah, and no clue how to use ‘em,” Dally said.

Rufus rubbed the back of his neck, looking flustered. Then he turned to the new woman.

“Uh…Bex, right?” Rufus said. “Art dealer. You bought that special piece for Lily Van Der Woodsen.”

“That’s right,” Bex said with a small smile. “I’m looking for a few things for some new clients. Any recent discoveries?”

“Actually, yeah,” Rufus said, leading her toward a wall lined with smaller canvases. “Mixed media, a bit experimental, but I think they’ve got something.”

We all followed behind quietly, pretending to still be working but honestly just watching the show.

Darry lifted one of the heavier pieces onto a stand.

“Man, I’d rather move drywall than watch this guy try to flirt,” Darry muttered.

“You’re just jealous she didn’t ask you out,” Soda whispered back.

“Jealous of paperwork and paint dust?” Darry muttered. “Sure.”

Bex studied a painting of layered metal and paint strips.

“If I recall,” Bex said casually, “you’ve got a wife in Hudson. Is that still true?”

The air in the gallery went still for a second.

“She’s still there,” Rufus said quietly. “I’m still here. Makes things a little difficult.”

Bex nodded slowly.

“You still trying?” Bex asked.

Rufus hesitated, then smiled faintly.

“Trying to move on,” Rufus said.

Bex’s tone softened.

“Tomorrow night too soon to start?” Bex asked.

Rufus blinked, surprised again.

“I… suppose not,” Rufus said. “Sounds good.”

Bex smiled.

“Good,” Bex said. “Then it’s a date.”

Johnny glanced over at me, eyes wide.

“You think Alison knows?” Johnny asked.

“Probably not,” I said, setting down the tape roll. “But I think we do.”

Dally gave a low whistle.

“Man, this place’s got more drama than that school up on Park Avenue,” Dally said.

“Yeah,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Except the paint costs more.”

The elevator dinged again, and for a second, I thought it might be Lily Van Der Woodsen herself walking in to throw a fit, but it was just a delivery guy with bubble wrap.

Bex left not long after that, heels echoing like the end of a performance. Rufus watched her go, hand still resting in his pocket where her number probably was.

Soda looked at him sympathetically.

“You okay, man?” Soda asked.

Rufus nodded, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah. Just… life catching up, I guess,” Rufus said.

Two-Bit stretched his arms, yawning.

“Man, we got high school drama uptown and middle-aged heartbreak downtown,” Two-Bit said. “What’s next…someone elopes in Central Park?”

My voice cut in from behind him.

“You never know, Two-Bit,” I said. “This city’s full of surprises.”

Just then, all our phones buzzed. Johnny groaned.

“Oh, come on,” Johnny said. “Not again.”

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: Lonely Boy’s dad painting the town red, or maybe just painting over old memories. Two women, one artist, and a crowd of greasers to move the masterpieces. Looks like Rufus Humphrey’s love life is going abstract.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit laughed so hard he nearly dropped a painting.

“Even Gossip Girl’s got eyes in here!” Two-Bit said.

Rufus sighed, half embarrassed, half amused.

“You boys ever think about not being in the middle of every Upper East Side secret?” Rufus asked.

Dally grinned.

“We tried,” Dally said. “Didn’t stick.”

Rufus chuckled, shaking his head.

“Alright,” Rufus said. “Let’s finish wrapping up before another blast calls me a midlife crisis.”

Johnny smirked at me as we taped down the last canvas.

“Guess we’re part of the art now,” Johnny said.

And in a way, it felt true. Every secret, every look, every whispered story, like brushstrokes in the city’s biggest painting.

And we were right in the middle of it.

It was late by the time we made it back uptown. The city outside was all gold light and glass, humming with secrets that never slept. Serena had asked us to tag along, saying she didn’t want to face Chuck Bass alone. Darry thought it was a bad idea, Soda said it sounded “juicy,” and Dally said he just wanted to see how rich people fought. So, we went.

The elevator opened straight into the Bass penthouse, and right away it felt like walking into a museum that didn’t know how to smile, dark marble, sharp lines, expensive everything. Blair’s voice floated faintly from somewhere down the hall, then vanished behind a closing door.

When the front door opened again, it wasn’t Blair who stood there this time; it was Chuck. His smirk came first, like he’d been waiting for an audience.

Serena stepped inside.

“Hi, Chuck,” Serena said.

Chuck grinned, all smooth arrogance.

“Call me brother,” Chuck said.

“Man, even when he jokes, he sounds like trouble,” Soda whispered under his breath.

Dally folded his arms.

“That’s ‘cause he is trouble,” Dally said.

Serena ignored them and moved closer.

“We need to talk,” Serena said.

Chuck raised an eyebrow.

“Is this about you getting knocked up?” Chuck asked. “Because, honestly, I’m disappointed you weren’t more careful.”

The room went quiet. Serena flinched but held her ground, walking past him to sit at the table. The rest of us hung back, half in the doorway, like backup she didn’t ask for but needed anyway.

“Chuck,” Serena said evenly, “I really need to trust you right now. I’m hoping there’s actually a decent person somewhere in there, and that you won’t make me regret this.”

“Good luck findin’ that decent part,” Two-Bit muttered, earning a sharp elbow from Darry.

Chuck tilted his head, studying her.

“You’re here for Blair, aren’t you?” Chuck said.

Serena hesitated, and that hesitation told him everything.

“I’m not going to tell Nate,” Chuck said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “What happened between Blair and me it’s over. I tortured her, got bored, and moved on.”

Dally scoffed.

“Classy,” Dally grumbled.

Chuck shot him a look like he’d swat a fly.

“Who let you people in here again?” Chuck sneered.

“Her,” Steve said, jerking his thumb toward Serena. “We’re moral support. Or security. Depends on how this goes.”

Serena didn’t even blink.

“There’s no moving on just yet, Chuck,” Serena said. “The pregnancy test wasn’t for me. It was for Blair.”

For the first time, Chuck actually looked stunned.

“What?” Chuck asked in surprise.

“She won’t take it,” Serena said softly. “And if she’s pregnant, then…”

Chuck cut her off.

“No,” Chuck said. “That’s impossible. We used a condom.”

Dally laughed dryly.

“Buddy, that’s what they all say before the fireworks,” Dally said.

Serena glared at him but didn’t argue.

“Well, maybe it broke, Chuck,” Serena said.

Chuck stood, running a hand through his hair, pacing near the window.

“You think Blair told you everything, but it’s obvious she hasn’t,” Chuck said.

“What are you talking about?” Serena asked.

Chuck turned, eyes sharp.

“I handle my business,” Chuck said. “Nate doesn’t. Blair and Nate slept together, right after she and I did.”

Soda’s eyes widened.

“Whoa,” Soda said.

Two-Bit gave a low whistle.

“Now that’s a mess even we can’t fix,” Two-Bit said.

Serena blinked, trying to piece it together.

“You’re saying… Nate could be the…” Serena said.

“I’m saying,” Chuck interrupted, voice calm but cutting, “that you’re asking the wrong man for help. Maybe talk to your golden boy instead.”

The words hung in the air like smoke.

Serena looked down, shaking her head.

“Blair’s gonna be crushed,” Serena said.

I finally spoke up.

“Maybe she needs to hear it from someone who won’t lie to her,” I said. “Even if it hurts.”

Serena looked at me then, really looked. Her eyes were tired, scared even.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Maybe.”

Behind her, Chuck poured himself a drink like nothing had happened, the ice clinking loudly in the silence.

“Tell Blair I wish her the best,” Chuck said coolly. “And tell Nate… whatever you want. I’m sure you’re used to cleaning up after her by now.”

Darry stepped forward, jaw tightening.

“Watch your mouth,” Darry said. “She came here to talk, not to take your crap.”

Chuck raised his glass.

“And yet here we are, Greaser,” Chuck said. “My penthouse, my rules.”

Dally’s eyes flared, but Soda grabbed his arm before he could move.

“Easy, Dal,” Soda said. “Not worth it.”

Serena rose to her feet, her voice shaking but steady.

“You know, for someone who acts like he’s in control, you sure sound terrified of caring,” Serena said.

Chuck didn’t answer. He just turned toward the window again, staring out at the city lights.

Serena walked to the door, the rest of us following.

“Come on,” Serena said quietly. “We’re done here.”

As we stepped into the hallway, Two-Bit looked back.

“Man, and I thought Socs were bad,” Two-Bit muttered.

Soda laughed softly.

“At least Socs don’t own skyscrapers,” Soda said.

Johnny stayed silent beside me. Maybe because he could tell Serena wasn’t really angry, she was scared. And maybe Chuck was too.

The elevator doors closed behind us, and right then, every one of our phones buzzed again.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: S at C’s penthouse, dropping a bombshell bigger than any secret in the city. A baby, a broken condom, and a boy who might not be the father? Looks like the Upper East Side just added a few new names to its guest list, straight outta Tulsa.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit groaned.

“Great,” Two-Bit said. “Now the whole city knows before the elevator hits the lobby.”

Serena rubbed her forehead, exhausted.

“Welcome to my world,” Serena said.

I looked at her, then out the glass walls at the glittering skyline. Somewhere in all that brightness, people were already whispering, judging, watching.

Same as home.

Only richer.

And just as broken.

Chapter Text

Chapter 43

Soda’s POV

The next morning came too early, the kind where the city lights are too bright and the coffee’s too strong. We were all crashed at the Humphrey loft again, half awake and pretending to help Dan get ready for school. Pony was at the counter doing homework, Two-Bit was making pancakes that looked more like crime scenes, and Dally was sitting on the couch flipping through the “New York Post” like it might have a sports section about gang fights.

Dan wandered out of his room, rubbing his eyes.

“Morning, Dad,” Dan said.

Rufus looked up from his sketchbook.

“Hey, Dan,” Rufus said. “I actually need to talk to you about something.”

Dan groaned.

“It’s a little early in the morning for the ‘teens gone wild’ contingency plan, don’t you think?” Dan asked.

Two-Bit nearly choked on his pancake.

“Man, I wanna see the PowerPoint for that,” Two-Bit teased.

Rufus chuckled.

“It’s not about you and Serena, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Rufus said.

Dan perked up, pretending not to care.

“Oh?” Dan said in surprise. “Then what?”

Rufus hesitated for a second.

“I just wanted to know how you and Jenny would feel if I went out tonight… for a drink,” Rufus said. “With a woman.”

That woke everybody up.

Steve dropped his fork.

“Hold up, the old man’s goin’ on a date?” Steve teased.

Darry shot him a look.

“Show some respect,” Darry warned.

Dan blinked.

“Uh… well, I guess I’d feel like you shouldn’t wear that shirt, or there won’t be a second date,” Dan said.

Rufus frowned down at his faded button-up.

“Really?” Rufus asked.

Dan smirked.

“Really,” Dan said.

Two-Bit leaned toward Johnny.

“He’s got a point,” Two-Bit said. “That shirt’s been through more breakups than I have.”

Johnny grinned.

“You don’t even date, Two-Bit,” Johnny said.

“Exactly,” Two-Bit said. “And it still looks worse.”

Rufus rolled his eyes but smiled.

“Thanks for the honesty,” Rufus said. “Now I just have to worry about Jenny.”

Right on cue, Jenny shuffled into the kitchen, hair messy, still half asleep.

“Morning, everyone,” Jenny said.

“Hey, Jen,” the whole room echoed. Pony even waved with his toast.

Jenny squinted at her dad.

“Dad… where did you get that shirt?” Jenny asked, wrinkling her nose.

Rufus looked down at himself, defensive now.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” Rufus asked.

Jenny crossed her arms.

“Nothing, as long as you don’t plan to wear it out of the house,” Jenny said.

Dally snorted into his coffee.

“Kid’s got instincts,” Dally said.

Dan grinned.

“Oh, it’s worse than that, Jenny,” Dan said. “He’s planning to wear it on a date.”

Jenny blinked.

“A date?” Jenny asked.

Rufus lifted his chin.

“For drinks,” Rufus said. “If that’s okay.”

Jenny groaned and grabbed a banana off the counter.

“Whatever,” Jenny said. “Just… that shirt is awful.”

Dan laughed.

“Well, Dad, there’s your answer,” Dan said.

Jenny froze mid-bite.

“Answer to what?” Jenny asked.

Dan and Rufus spoke at the same time.

“Nothing,” Dan and Rufus said.

The look Jenny gave them could’ve burned through drywall.

“Uh-huh,” Jenny said. “Sure.” Jenny shook her head and headed back toward her room. “You two are so weird.”

“She’s got no idea,” Two-Bit whispered.

I leaned against the counter, grinning.

“Man, this family’s funnier than the TV shows about families,” I said.

Rufus laughed under his breath, a little embarrassed but kind of proud.

“You boys are something else,” Rufus said.

“Yeah,” Darry said, finishing his coffee. “We keep things honest.”

Dan raised an eyebrow.

“A little too honest sometimes,” Dan said.

Pony looked up from his notes.

“Honesty’s not bad, ”Poy said. “Beats lies and secrets.”

That quieted the room for a second, not awkward, just thoughtful. After everything that’d gone down with Serena and Blair and Chuck the night before, everyone knew exactly what he meant.

Rufus finally broke the silence, smiling at me.

“Well, Soda, maybe you should help me pick out something decent to wear later,” Rufus said.

I grinned.

“Buddy, I got you,” I said. “First rule of lookin’ good? Lose the dad flannel.”

Two-Bit whistled.

“Ooooh, harsh but fair,” Two-Bit teased.

Darry shook his head.

“He’s hopeless,” Darry said.

And just like that, the loft filled back up with laughter and noise, pancakes sizzling, mugs clinking, Dally pretending to care about Rufus’s date wardrobe while secretly reading the gossip section. For a moment, it didn’t feel like the Upper East Side or Tulsa. Just people figuring life out over breakfast.

Of course, that moment didn’t last.

All our phones buzzed at once.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: Lonely Boy’s dad trading in his guitar for a little romance. Who’s the mystery woman? Looks like Rufus Humphrey’s got a second act, and a few Tulsa boys as his style consultants. Let’s hope they pick something that doesn’t scream “single dad.”

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit groaned.

“We can’t even eat breakfast without this chick writing about it,” Two-Bit said.

Dally smirked.

“That’s New York for ya,” Dally said. “Everyone’s business is everyone’s entertainment.”

Rufus sighed but smiled anyway.

“Guess I’d better make sure the outfit’s worth the press,” Rufus said.

I raised my coffee.

“To first dates and bad shirts,” I said.

Darry clinked his mug against mine.

“And to keepin’ each other honest,” Darry said.

And for a minute, even the city outside seemed to slow down, just long enough for us to feel like maybe, somehow, we belonged here too.

We’d barely finished our coffee when Serena showed up again, hair perfect, eyes stormy.

“I’m going to Blair’s,” Serena said. “You guys coming?”

“After what happened last night?” Two-Bit asked, grinning. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Blair’s not exactly the friendly breakfast type,” Darry warned. “You sure you want a crowd?”

Serena sighed.

“I just need backup,” Serena said. “She’ll listen better if she knows I’m not alone.”

So, we went.

The Humphrey loft faded into morning light, and before we knew it, we were in the elevator up to the Waldorf penthouse, again. I swear, we were starting to see more of these fancy apartments than our own beds.

When the elevator doors opened, the smell of flowers and expensive perfume hit us. Dorota was straightening pillows while Blair sat perfectly posed on the couch, flipping through a glossy magazine like she didn’t weigh the Upper East Side’s biggest rumor on her shoulders.

“Good morning, Dorota,” Serena said, all bright and polite.

Dorota smiled.

“Good morning, Miss Serena,” Dorota said. “You bring friends today, yes?”

“Just my guys,” Serena said, motioning toward us. “They’re, um… support.”

“Guess we’re emotional muscle now,” Dally whispered to Steve.

“Better than being baggage,” Steve shot back.

Blair looked up, cool and unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” Blair asked.

Serena ignored the tone.

“Just thought I’d check in,” Serena said. “Have you noticed the weather today?”

Blair frowned.

“What?” Blair asked in confusion.

“Look outside,” Serena said.

Blair raised an eyebrow but turned toward the massive window.

“The sky’s a clear blue…easy,” Serena said.

Blair paused, clearly not in the mood for small talk. Then she turned to Dorota.

“You may be excused, Dorota,” Blair said.

Dorota glanced between the two girls, sensing the storm.

“Of course, Miss Blair,” Dorota said.

Dorota gave the rest of us a sympathetic look on her way out, like “good luck surviving this one.”

Serena moved to the couch, sitting beside Blair.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about you and Nate,” Serena said.

Blair froze. The gang tensed. Even Two-Bit stopped fidgeting with his phone.

“What did Nate say?” Blair asked, finally.

“Nothing,” Serena said quietly. “But Chuck did, when I went to talk to him.”

Blair’s voice sharpened.

“You what?” Blair asked in disbelief.

Serena straightened, her voice steady.

“We went to see him, the guys and me,” Serena said. “We thought maybe he could talk some sense into you.”

“You had no right to do that!” Blair snapped, standing up.

Johnny shifted uneasily.

“We weren’t trying to cause trouble, Blair,” Johnny said. “We just wanted to help.”

“Help?” Blair laughed, but it wasn’t happy. “By humiliating me?”

Serena stood too, her eyes fierce.

“By trying to stop you from ruining your life!” Serena said. “I took a public bullet for you, Blair! I let another rumor run wild, again, so you didn’t have to! The whole school heard about it, even Dan!”

Darry folded his arms, jaw tight.

“She’s tellin’ the truth,” Darry said. “Serena stood up when she didn’t have to.”

For a second, Blair’s mask cracked. Just a second.

Then another voice sliced through the tension.

“What’s going on here?” the voice asked.

We all turned. Eleanor Waldorf was standing in the doorway, elegant as ever, her eyes sharp as glass.

“Serena, boys…what’s the meaning of this?” Eleanor asked.

Serena exhaled, too tired for sugarcoating.

“Ask Blair,” Serena said. “Her version’s always better.”

Eleanor looked to her daughter.

“Blair?” Eleanor asked.

But Blair said nothing. Just stared at the floor, perfect posture slipping.

“Fine,” Serena said, grabbing her bag. “Let’s go, guys.”

Two-Bit gave Blair a small wave.

“Good luck, Queen B,” Two-Bit said.

Blair didn’t answer.

We followed Serena out into the hall. None of us said much; the air felt heavy. Even Dally didn’t crack a joke. Serena’s heels clicked fast and hard against the marble, her head high, her eyes glassy. She didn’t look back once.

Outside, the cold hit like a slap. The sun was blinding against the city's glass. Serena stopped on the sidewalk, taking a long breath that looked more like a sigh.

“She’ll come around,” Pony said softly.

Serena smiled faintly.

“I hope so,” Serena said.

Then her phone buzzed.

Serena stared at it for a second, then answered.

“Blair?” Serena asked.

We crowded around, pretending not to eavesdrop but definitely eavesdropping.

“Serena,” Blair’s voice came through, shaky but real. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For everything.”

Serena blinked.

“You’re sorry?” Serena asked.

“I took the test,” Blair said, voice steadier now. “And… I’m not pregnant.”

Serena’s eyes widened, relief flooding her face.

“Oh, thank God,” Serena said.

Blair laughed weakly.

“I didn’t expect you to forgive me,” Blair said.

Serena’s voice softened.

“You’re my best friend, B,” Serena said. “Of course I forgive you.”

Two-Bit grinned.

“Aw, it’s like a Hallmark movie but with fancier clothes,” Two-Bit teased.

Johnny elbowed him.

“Shut up,” Johnny said. “It’s nice.”

Pony smiled too.

“Guess that’s one secret that ends happily,” Pony said.

Serena hung up, exhaling deeply. For the first time in days, she actually smiled.

“She’s okay,” Serena said.

Darry nodded.

“Good,” Darry said. “Maybe now everyone can take a breath.”

Soda chuckled.

“Not in this town, Darry,” Soda said. “But it’s a start.”

Right then, our phones buzzed again.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: S and B, best friends again and disaster-free. Looks like no baby bump for B, but plenty of drama for everyone else. And the Tulsa boys? Still in the middle of the storm, and loving every minute of it.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit groaned.

“We can’t even have a happy ending without this chick gettin’ the last word,” Two-Bit said.

Dally smirked, pulling his jacket tighter.

“Yeah, but at least it’s the kind of ending that doesn’t involve a baby shower,” Dally said.

Serena laughed for real that time, the kind that cracked through the city noise.

And for a minute, just one, it felt like the sun finally came out over all of us.

Chapter Text

Chapter 44

Darry’s POV

School mornings in Manhattan always felt too loud, too fast, like the whole world wanted something from you the second your feet hit the sidewalk. Back home, mornings meant coffee, yelling at Soda to get his shoes on, and making sure Pony didn’t forget his homework. Here? Apparently, mornings meant drama.

Serena walked ahead of us, shoulders easing for the first time since Blair called with the good news. The rest of us followed across the courtyard, me, Soda, Pony, Two-Bit, Steve, Dally, Johnny, trying to blend in with the fancy uniforms and kids who looked like they stepped out of a magazine ad.

That’s when I spotted Blair.

Blair walked with that stiff, perfect posture, head held high like nothing in the world could touch her. And then, Chuck Bass, leaning against the stone wall like some expensive gargoyle, cigarette dangling between his fingers.

Chuck watched Blair walk past.

Blair didn’t stop. Of course, she didn’t.

But Chuck did.

“Blair,” Chuck called, flicking his cigarette away as he started after Blair.

Blair didn’t turn.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Blair said.

Chuck smirked.

“Oh, I have to,” Chuck said. “Secondhand smoke is bad for the, uh…”

His eyes dropped pointedly to her stomach.

“This guy needs a punch in the mouth,” Soda muttered from behind me.

Dally smirked.

“I’ll volunteer,” Dally said.

Chuck reached out and grabbed Blair’s arm.

Blair spun around, chin lifted.

“I’m not pregnant,” Blair snapped. “So…goodbye. Mistakes so far in my past I can barely remember.”

Even I raised an eyebrow at that one. The girl had claws.

Chuck blinked, thrown off for half a second.

“You cannot be serious,” Chuck said.

Then he made the stupidest move of his life: he touched Blair’s stomach.

Blair’s eyes went wide.

“You can’t be touching me!” Blair chastised. She slapped his hand away, but it burned her.

Honestly, good.

I felt Johnny tense next to me like he expected we’d have to step in.

Blair kept going, voice sharp as glass.

“Look, if you were going to tell Nate, you would have done so in Monaco,” Blair said. “But you didn’t, because you don’t want him to hate you. And he would. Game over.”

Chuck’s jaw clenched.

“Game’s not over until I say it is,” Chuck said with a smirk.

Two-Bit snorted loudly enough for Chuck to hear.

“Man, he really thinks he’s the main character,” Two-Bit joked.

Blair gave Chuck this slow, icy smile.

“Then have fun playing with yourself,” Blair said.

Steve choked on a laugh. Dally didn’t even try to hide his grin.

Blair marched up the school steps like she owned the whole building. And honestly? She kind of did.

Chuck watched her until she disappeared. Then he pulled out his phone. His thumbs moved fast. Soda and exchanged a look; we knew that look. Someone was about to get thrown to the wolves.

“He wouldn’t…” Johnny whispered.

But Chuck did.

A second later, our phones buzzed.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: Blair Waldorf, not knocked up, but definitely knocked around by her own secrets.

And Serena? Our golden girl wasn’t the one expected.

She was just covering for the friend whose sheets saw more action than Grand Central in rush hour.

Two boys in one week, B? Someone’s been busy.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Two-Bit slapped his forehead.

“Damn, she writes faster than Pony does homework,” Two-Bit said.

“This is bad,” Pony muttered.

Serena stared at her screen, shoulders sinking.

“He had no right…” Serena said.

“No,” I said, stepping closer, steady. “He didn’t. That’s on him, not you.”

Soda nodded.

“We got your back, S,” Soda said. “No matter what that creep posts.”

Dally flicked his cigarette into a puddle.

“If Chuck Bass wants trouble, he can get in line,” Dally said.

Johnny gave Serena a soft smile.

“Blair’ll need you now more than ever,” Johnny said.

Serena exhaled, shaky but strong.

“Then I guess we’re not done yet,” Serena said.

And as we walked into school, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were just heating, secrets, lies, rumors.

This place was a different kind of battleground.

But the gang had survived worse.

And if Serena or Blair needed us?

We’d survive this, too.

After the Gossip Girl blast hit everyone’s phones, the courtyard buzzed like a kicked hornet’s nest. Kids whispered. Stared. Pretended not to look but kept looking anyway. Blair had vanished inside the school with that cold, perfect stride, and Chuck was leaning against the wall like he hadn’t just publicly torpedoed someone’s week.

I kept the boys moving. The last thing we needed was Dally starting something with Bass at eight-thirty in the morning.

We were almost across the lawn when a stack of loose papers exploded into the air ahead of us, white pages flipping everywhere like startled birds.

Dan Humphrey came tearing after them.

“Ah, great, great, no! Come back!” Dan shouted, chasing one sheet as it skimmed across the grass.

Soda burst out laughing.

“Dude’s fightin’ trees now,” Soda said.

“Wind,” Pony corrected.

“Same difference,” Soda said.

Dan gathered the papers, flustered and flapping like a scarecrow. He finally got to the last page and made his way toward Serena, who was sitting at a picnic table with a basket beside her. She was wrapped in sunlight that somehow made the cold morning look warm.

Serena laughed when Dan approached, her breath fogging the air.

“Hey, paper boy,” Serena teased.

Dan huffed.

“That… was an ambush,” Dan said.

“That was wind,” Johnny said gently, walking past with two coffees.

Dan shot him a look but didn’t argue.

“You cold?” Dan asked Serena. “It’s pretty cold out here…let me, um…here.”

Dan fumbled inside the picnic basket and pulled out a soft gray blanket, shaking it out and draping it over Serena’s lap like a butler who didn’t know if he was allowed to look her in the eyes.

“He’s sweatin’ more than the time we got caught sneakin’ outta the drive-in,” Two-Bit whispered to me.

Serena smiled at Dan.

“Thanks,” Serena said.

“I can pour us some ginger ale,” Dan said, moving too fast again. “We can…uh…have a little drink. Though it might actually be a little cold for that, but…”

“Dan,” Serena interrupted, soft but firm, “are you okay? You’re doing that… thing.”

Dan stiffened.

“What thing?” Dan asked.

“That thing where you get nervous and start narrating your own actions like someone pressed fast-forward,” Serena said.

Soda nudged Steve.

“Yep,” Soda said. “He’s in deep.”

Dan rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” Dan said. “It’s just… I don’t know. In the short time we’ve known each other, you’ve become really important to me. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. And I’m trying now, and I…”

A sudden gust of wind blew through the courtyard…hard.

Serena’s notebook flipped open.

Then one page…her lit paper…ripped free and shot off across the grass.

“Oh no…no no no…!” Serena jumped up and raced after it.

We scattered on instinct, Tulsa reflexes. Pony dove after a sheet that wasn’t even hers. Steve nearly wiped out trying to snag another.

Two-Bit yelled, “Get it, Princess!” like it was field day. Even Dally jogged after it, though he’d deny it later.

But some other guy, a tall student in a rugby jacket, caught the paper first.

He handed it to Serena with a smooth smile.

Serena beamed back at him.

“Thanks!” Serena said. “I love you!”

The guy laughed awkwardly and waved before heading off.

Dan stopped dead.

“Ouch,” Soda muttered.

Johnny winced in sympathy. I shook my head. Poor kid looked like he’d been punched in the stomach.

When Serena came back, Dan stared at the ground.

“That was… a close call,” Dan said.

Serena hopped back onto the picnic table, glowing.

“Sorry,” Serena said. “That would’ve completely ruined our picnic.”

“Yeah,” Dan murmured. “It would’ve.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear.

“So… what were you saying?” Serena asked.

Dan blinked, swallowed, and retreated into safety like Pony hiding in a book.

“Oh. Just… I can proofread your lit paper for you,” Dan said. If that’s okay.”

Even Dally groaned under his breath.

“Man, he folded faster than laundry,” Dally said.

Serena didn’t seem to notice. She brightened.

“Yeah,” Serena said. “But can we eat first? I’m starving.”

Dan exhaled, relief softening his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Let’s eat.”

Serena opened the picnic basket, and Dan sat down beside her, close enough to be warm, far enough to be cautious.

We started backing away, letting them have space.

“They’re gonna be fine,” Two-Bit whispered.

Pony nodded.

“They care about each other,” Pony said. “They just don’t know how to say it yet.”

I put a hand on both their shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get to class before the next crisis hits,” I said.

But knowing this school?

The next crisis was probably already brewing.

Chapter Text

Chapter 45

Two-Bit’s POV

I swear, Manhattan schools ran on caffeine, money, and gossip, mostly gossip.

By the time the second bell rang, Chuck’s newest Gossip Girl bomb had spread through the hallways faster than Dally grabbing the last donut in the box.

Students huddled at lockers, eyes glued to their phones. Kids whispered behind textbooks. Even the teachers looked nosy.

Soda nudged me, grinning.

“You hear them talkin’?” Soda asked. “They’re worse than the Socs back home.”

“Yeah,” I said, flipping open my phone even though I’d memorized the blast two hours ago. “Except these wear headbands instead of leather.”

Pony shot me a look.

“You shouldn’t be proud you’ve memorized Gossip Girl posts,” Pony said.

“Too late,” I said. “It’s practically a hobby now.”

Johnny snorted, trying not to smile.

Across the courtyard, Blair appeared at the top of the school steps. If she’d been rattled this morning, she wasn’t showing it now. She looked like she’d walked straight out of a magazine ad for “Strength in Heels.”

But then she saw the phones.

Saw the stares.

Saw the blast.

Her face paled, just a little.

She marched down the steps toward two girls by the archway, the type who normally followed her like perfume.

“Have you seen Nate?” Blair asked, voice clipped.

The girls exchanged wide-eyed looks.

“Um… no,” The girls said.

Blair’s jaw twitched. She didn’t push, she didn’t cry. She just turned and walked straight out the school gates, heels clicking like gunshots.

“Girl’s tougher than most guys I know,” Dally muttered.

“I’ll give her that,” Darry said.

Steve elbowed me.

“But the blast didn’t say who told Gossip Girl,’ Steve said.

“Yeah,” I said. “But everybody’s lookin’ at everybody.”

Including someone none of us expected.

Inside the school, Jenny Humphrey stood awkwardly by Nate’s locker.

I gotta admit, the kid looked nervous. Like she knew she was walking into a tornado, but she still stepped forward anyway.

“Hey,” Jenny said, trying for casual. “I saw it.”

Nate looked up from his phone.

“Yeah,” Nate said. “Blair’s gonna freak out. This is a total lie.”

Jenny nodded a little too fast.

“Yeah,” Jenny said. “Of course it is.”

Nate closed his locker.

“Jenny… look,” Nate said. “I know you’re friends with Blair. And you’d never do anything to betray her. But if you know something…”

Jenny’s face changed, tight around the edges, hurt underneath.

“Blair was never really my friend,” Jenny retorted.

Nate froze.

“So…” Nate said.

“So… yeah,” Jenny said as she swallowed hard. “There’s something you should know.”

“Oh no,” Pony whispered.

Soda winced.

“This is gonna blow up,” Soda said.

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck.

“Think we should step in?” Johnny asked.

“No,” Darry said. “This ain’t our place.”

And for once, I agreed.

A few minutes later, Nate stormed outside the school.

We followed, but hung back behind a stone pillar. Close enough to hear, far enough not to get involved. (Or pretend we weren’t involved. Same thing.)

Chuck Bass was mid-conversation with some guy on the sidewalk, looking smug as always, until Nate grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the side of a limo so hard I swear the windows rattled.

Dally whistled.

“Finally, someone else does the slamming,” Dally said with a smirk.

“Dally,” Darry hissed.

Chuck blinked, stunned. Nate’s voice shook with fury.

“Is it true?” Nate asked. “Did you really sleep with Blair?”

Chuck didn’t answer.

And that was answer enough.

Nate shoved him harder.

“You son of a bitch! “ Nate said with rage. “I ought to kill you!”

“I’d pay to see that,” Steve muttered.

Chuck clawed at Nate’s wrist.

“Can we discuss this without your hands around my neck?” Chuck asked.

Nate didn’t loosen his grip.

“What did you do?” Nate asked. “Did you get what you wanted? Just like with every other girl?”

Chuck stumbled back into the limo again.

“I took what Blair was throwing at you… And you were throwing right back!” Chuck spat.

Nate’s jaw dropped.

“So it’s my fault you screwed Blair for sport?!” Nate asked in disbelief.

Chuck’s voice went hot.

“It wasn’t for sport!” Chuck protested. “Blair needed someone… and I was there.”

“That’s not caring!” Nate snapped. “That’s taking advantage! We were broken up for what? A week? An hour?”

Chuck’s face twisted.

“Nate… I’m sorry,” Chuck said. “I know how long we’ve been best friends…”

Nate stepped back, breathing hard, shaking with betrayal.

“No,” Nate said. “You don’t get to say that. You stay away from me. From now on.”

Nate walked off without looking back.

Chuck watched him go, eyes dark, jaw clenched.

For a second, just one, I thought I saw something real crack through his shell.

Regret.

Or guilt.

Or something uglier.

Then Chuck straightened his tie like nothing had happened.

Pony exhaled shakily.

“That was… intense,” Pony said.

“No kidding,” Soda said.

Johnny frowned.

“Poor Blair,” Johnny said.

“Poor everyone,” Steve corrected.

Dally shrugged.

“Nah,” Dally said. “This is what happens when rich people date each other.”

Darry shot him a look.

“Let’s go before anyone thinks we’re next in this circus,” Darry said.

As we walked back into the school, my phone buzzed again.

GOSSIP GIRL BLAST

Spotted: A Bass and a Boy in blue, friendship on the rocks.

Seems Blair’s not the only one with a secret worth slamming someone into a limo for.

And looks like our Tulsa tourists were front-row witnesses.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

I laughed.

“We’re celebrities still,” I said. “And not even the fun kind.”

Johnny sighed.

“We really gotta stop being around for these things,” Johnny said.

But me.

I had a feeling this was only getting started.

Chapter Text

Chapter 46

Steve’s POV

The Archibald penthouse looked like the kind of place that had never seen a fight, all polished marble floors, giant windows, and furniture you weren’t supposed to sit on unless your last name meant something in this town.

So naturally, we were sitting on it.

Blair was perched on the edge of an expensive couch, knees tight together, back straight, eyes on the door like staring hard enough would make Nate appear. We witnessed what happened outside school, and the second Blair stormed off, we followed. The girl looked like she was seconds away from breaking, and none of us were gonna leave her alone in that state.

Johnny sat beside her, quiet and watchful. Pony kept glancing between the front door and Blair, nerves humming. Soda drummed on the armrest to fill the awful silence. Two-Bit had a bag of Archibald almonds he’d stolen from a crystal bowl, crunching whenever the tension felt too still. Dally leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw set. Darry sat stiffly, hands folded like he was praying not to get involved, but ready if he had to.

Then the elevator dinged.

Blair stood up so fast that Johnny flinched.

Nate stepped out, expression tight and confused.

“Blair?” Nate asked. “What are you doing here?”

Blair smoothed her skirt, chin high.

“Your mother let me in,” Blair said.

Nate’s voice sharpened.

“I didn’t ask how you got in,” Nate said. “I’m asking why you came.”

Blair inhaled, shaky but proud.

“To talk,” Blair said. “About us.”

Nate stared like she’d spoken a foreign language.

“There is no ‘us,’” Nate snapped.

Blair shook her head.

“Yes, there is,” Blair pleaded. “We finally have a chance to start over.”

I felt Soda wince beside me. This was gonna be rough.

Nate stepped forward, hurt and angry, mixing in his voice.

“All this time, I felt so bad for everything I’d done,” Nate said. “And when you said you wanted to leave the past in the past, I didn’t know you were talking about your past.”

Blair swallowed, eyes shimmering.

“You had just broken my heart, Nate,” Blair said. “I made a decision I wasn’t in the right condition to make.”

“She’s trying so hard,” Pony whispered.

“Yeah, but he ain’t hearing it,” Johnny whispered back.

Nate’s jaw tightened. “But you’re clear-headed now, right?”

“Yes,” Blair said quietly.

“Good,” Nate said, voice dropping cold. “Then you’ll understand perfectly when I say I want nothing else to do with you. You and Chuck deserve each other.”

Dally pushed off the wall.

“Hey,” Dally barked, stepping forward. “Watch your…”

Darry grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“Not now,” Darry warned.

But Blair heard Nate’s words anyway, every one of them landing like a slap.

Blair shook her head, desperate.

“Nate, you know Chuck would say anything,” Blair said. “Twist the truth.”

Nate looked away.

“But Jenny wouldn’t,” Nate said.

That hit the room like a brick. Even Two-Bit stopped chewing.

Blair blinked.

“Jenny?” Blair asked in confusion.

Nate pointed at Blair, voice cracking.

“Don’t go blaming Jenny for this,” Nate said. “I would’ve found out eventually. I’m done. It’s over.”

Blair opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

There was a beat of silence, the whole penthouse holding its breath.

Then Nate said, softer but final:

“Please leave,” Nate said.

Blair remained frozen.

Nate exhaled sharply.

“Fine,” Nate said. “Stay as long as you want. I’ll leave.”

Nate turned and walked to the elevator without another word.

The doors shut behind him a heartbeat later.

Blair didn’t move.

“Damn… he didn’t even look back,” Soda whispered.

Two-Bit set the almond bag down, face unusually serious.

“He’s hurt,” Two-Bit said. “Bad. But still… that was brutal.”

“Guy’s got no idea what he just threw away,” Dally muttered.

Johnny slid closer to Blair, but didn’t touch him; she looked like she’d shatter at the wrong move.

“She didn’t deserve that,” Pony whispered, voice small.

“No,” I said quietly. “She didn’t.”

Blair’s breath trembled, but she stayed upright, chin still high even as her eyes began to shine.

The girl had pride carved right into her bones.

But that didn’t make it hurt less.

Finally, Blair whispered, barely audible:

“He’s wrong,” Blair said. “I didn’t… I wasn’t…
”
Blair’s voice broke.

Darry stepped forward, gentler than I’d seen him all week.

“Blair, you don’t gotta explain anything to us,” Darry said.

Blair pressed a hand to her mouth, shaking her head, trying to swallow everything down at once: heartbreak, humiliation, anger, regret, all of it.

“We should go,” I said, standing. “You don’t need an audience for this.”

But she surprised me.

“No,” Blair whispered. “Stay. Please.”

Johnny nodded instantly.

“We’re here, “Johnny said.

We stayed.

Because that’s what you do when someone’s world cracks open: you stick around and help hold the pieces.

Outside the window, the city moved on like nothing had happened. But inside that penthouse, everything changed.

And we were right there in the middle of it.

After the mess at the Archibald penthouse, none of us wanted to go home.

Not yet.

The whole thing left a weight in my chest I couldn’t shake, like watching a car crash in slow motion and not being able to pull anyone out.

So when Rufus texted Dan saying he needed help moving some pieces around the gallery before close, we jumped at the distraction.

The gallery was quiet, soft-lit, crammed with canvases that cost more than our whole house back in Tulsa. And Johnny lifted a huge abstract piece off a table while Darry steadied the stand. Pony dusted off a sculpture with the gentleness of a museum worker. Soda and Two-Bit pretended to “inspect” art, which meant guessing what the paintings meant and being wildly wrong.

Dally just stood in the back, eyeing everything like the art was going to pick a fight with him.

Rufus had just finished organizing paperwork at his counter when the door chimed.

A brunette woman strode in, confident, stylish, with the kind of smile that meant she knew exactly what she wanted.

“Oh snap,” Two-Bit whispered. “It’s drink-lady.”

Rufus blinked, clearly surprised.

“Bryn,” Rufus said. “Hi. Good to see you again.”

Johnny nudged me.

“He sounds like he didn’t expect that at all,” Johnny said.

“That or he expected it and panicked,” I said.

Bryn stepped closer to Rufus.

“Rufus, at the risk of being forward… I’m here on a dare from my friends to ask you out,” Bryn said.

Soda’s mouth fell open.

“Holy…she just said it,” Soda said.

Dally smirked.

“She ain’t scared,” Dally said. “I respect that.”

Rufus looked like someone had just pulled the fire alarm.

“Well… then I guess I have to say…” Rufus said.

“Yes?” Bryn leaned in with a teasing grin. “Yes, you do.”

We were all frozen in place, watching with the intensity of people witnessing wildlife in its natural habitat.

Rufus cleared his throat.

“Well… tonight, I have plans,” Rufus said. “But maybe some other night.”

Translation: he bailed.

“Smooth as sandpaper,” Two-Bit muttered.

Before Bryn could respond, the door chimed again.

A second woman walked in, Bex, the art dealer from earlier, all sharp edges and business confidence.

“Am I interrupting?” Bex asked, eyebrow lifted.

“Oh boy,” Pony whispered. “Drama.”

“Bex, hi,” Rufus stammered. “Bryn, Bex. Bex, Bryn.”

Both women gave each other a tight smile, the kind girls give when they’re deciding whether to duel or gossip.

Bex turned back to Rufus.

“We should reschedule drinks,” Bex said.

Bryn’s smile sharpened.

“So you are available for drinks after all,” Bryn said.

Rufus froze like a bug in a glass.

Dally snorted.

“Man’s getting jumped by dates,” Dally teased. “Could be worse.”

Johnny elbowed him.

“Shh, he’s dying in real time,” Johnny said.

Rufus attempted a nervous half-smile.

“Uh… well… I…” Rufus said.

But both women kept looking at him, waiting.

Expecting.

And honestly?

Watching Rufus get cornered like that after the emotional nuke Blair took earlier…

It was kinda nice having a moment of harmless chaos instead of heartbreak.

“If I were him, I’d fake an allergic reaction and run,” Two-Bit said under his breath.

“Two,” Darry muttered, “nobody asked you.”

“Which is why I’m helpfully providing my opinion,” Two-Bit said.

“You know what?” Rufus said. “Maybe we can, uh, figure something out later?”

Neither woman looked pleased.

“We’ll talk,” Bex said.

“Oh, we definitely will,” Brynn added.

Then both women left, separately, but with matching annoyed energy.

The door closed.

Rufus collapsed against the counter, dragging a hand down his face.

“I am too old for whatever that was,” Rufus said.

Soda burst out laughing.

“Nah, Mr. H,” Soda said. “That was impressive.”

Dally smirked.

“Two dames fightin’ over you?” Dally teased. “You sure you ain’t hiding something?”

Rufus groaned.

“Please stop talking,” Rufus said.

Pony tried to be nice and patted Rufus’s arm.

“At least they both like you,” Pony said.

Rufus sighed.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Rufus said.

Johnny smiled gently.

“It’s not the worst problem to have,” Johnny said.

I shook my head, grinning despite the heavy day.

After everything, Blair’s heartbreak, Nate’s meltdown, Chuck’s betrayal, this moment felt like a weird breath of normal.

A tiny slice of awkward adult problems in the middle of a teenage wildfire.

Rufus looked at us, all seven Tulsa boys spread across his gallery, and sighed again.

“You know what?” Rufus said. “Let’s just finish up and get everyone home.”

And for the first time all day, nobody argued.