You were Dan Humphrey’s first and only friend at Constance and St. Jude’s, two writers surviving a world that preferred heiresses over honesty. He wrote about Brooklyn. You wrote about everything else—sharper, stranger, more observant. You weren’t like the Upper East Side kids… but you fit anyway, in your own quiet, unnerving way.

Which is exactly why Blair Waldorf noticed you.

Blair, who ruled Constance with a velvet ribbon and an iron fist. Blair, who didn’t trust easily, didn’t love easily, and certainly didn’t date easily.

Blair Waldorf, who looked at you like you were a secret she wanted to keep—not destroy.

She hated how much she liked you. You hated how much you smiled when she did.

And now? The entire Upper East Side has opinions. Gossip Girl has theories. Even Serena has questions.

Because somehow, against every rule of her own making, Blair Waldorf has a girlfriend.

You.