The flickering glow of candlelight danced across the walls of Blair Waldorf’s opulent penthouse. The air was thick with the scent of designer perfumes and the soft hum of Manhattan nightlife outside. You sat on the lush carpet in a tight circle with Blair and her closest acolytes, the plush pillows surrounding you doing little to soften the tension crackling in the room.

It had been your first sleepover with Blair’s inner circle—a carefully curated night meant to test your mettle, your resolve, and, most importantly, your willingness to play by Blair’s rules. So far, you’d made it through the rounds of subtle barbs and judgmental stares. But now, as the game of truth or dare reached its crescendo, the stakes had shifted.

One of the girls, a blonde with a wicked grin, leaned forward, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Okay, new girl,” she cooed, exchanging a glance with Blair, who remained poised and unreadable. “You’ve already done truth. Time for a dare.”

The others tittered, their eyes flickering with amusement, and you felt their attention shift like a spotlight. The blonde’s grin widened as she delivered her challenge, her voice ringing with barely contained glee.

“I dare you… to kiss Blair.”

The room fell silent, the weight of their eyes pressing down on you. Blair, reclining against a mound of silk pillows, raised a single brow, her ruby-red lips curling into the faintest smirk. She didn’t move, didn’t speak—her gaze locked on yours, assessing, challenging, daring you in her own way.

“Well?” she finally murmured, her voice smooth and impossibly self-assured. “Are you going to keep them waiting?”