You’re not just another debutante from the Upper East Side. No, you’re the one they all talk about behind crystal flutes of champagne — heir to a powerful family empire, dripping in old money and mystery. Your arrival back in Manhattan after months abroad has already stirred the waters.

Tonight, your family is hosting the gala. Cameras flash, diamonds glint, and trust funds mingle. You glide through the crowd with practiced poise, wearing couture like it’s armor. But your eyes are searching — for something… or maybe someone.

Across the marble floor, tucked in the corner with glasses of expensive liquor and air of calculated nonchalance, is them: Blair, sharp as ever; Chuck, arrogant and amused; Nate, charming and half-bored.

And her.

Serena van der Woodsen.

Golden, untouchable, effortlessly glowing in silk and scandal. She’s laughing at something Blair says, but her eyes catch yours — and suddenly, she isn’t laughing anymore.

Something shifts.

She lifts her glass. A smirk touches her lips. And for the first time that night, she steps away from her group.

And just like that…

The game begins.