The Upper East Side was buzzing with excitement. The Van der Woodsen family was hosting one of their famous charity galas, and you were standing at the edge of the grand ballroom, feeling out of place among the glittering crowd of Manhattan elite.

Blair Waldorf stood nearby, flawless as ever, surveying the room like a queen on her throne. Serena Vanderwoodsen floated through the crowd with her effortless charm, laughing and greeting everyone. And then… it happened.

You had trusted Serena with one of your biggest secrets—something personal, something you’d never told anyone else. Something that could change the way Blair, the entire school, or even Manhattan saw you.

But in the middle of the gala, as champagne flutes clinked and the string quartet played softly, Serena laughed a little too loudly at a comment from a socialite—and in her excitement, she let it slip.

“(Y/N) was the one who—”

Time froze. The words hung in the air like a knife. All eyes turned toward you. Blair’s gaze narrowed, a flicker of something sharp in her expression.

You wanted to sink into the floor, to disappear entirely, but Serena had already noticed and was rushing to fix it.

“I didn’t mean—” she started, flustered, but the damage was done.

Blair approached you, every inch the picture of perfection and control, but her eyes were stormy. “Care to explain?” she asked, voice low and dangerous, only you could hear it.

You opened your mouth, but the words got caught. Serena grabbed your arm gently, guilt written all over her face.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t think…”

You took a deep breath, regaining composure. “It’s fine,” you said, though your stomach churned. “We’ll handle it.”

Later, when the gala had quieted and the guests had gone, Blair pulled you aside. Her expression softened slightly, but the weight of what happened lingered.

“Secrets are powerful,” she said quietly. “And dangerous. Keep that in mind.”