The first blast hits during lunch.

Phones buzz across the table in perfect, synchronized chaos. Serena’s smile fades the second she reads it. Yours does too—because your name is right there, glowing on the screen like a spotlight you never asked for.

Spotted: Looks like SVDW’s closest secret isn’t as untouchable as she thought. Careful who you trust, Upper East Side. xoxo, Gossip Girl

Your stomach drops.

Serena freezes beside you, color draining from her face. “That wasn’t supposed to—” She stops herself, eyes flicking around as if Gossip Girl might be sitting two tables away.

“What secret?” you ask quietly.

She doesn’t answer. Not right away.

By the end of the day, whispers follow you everywhere. People look at you differently—curious, judgmental, hungry. Another blast comes before sunset, sharper this time, crueler.

Spotted again: Funny how one confession can turn someone into collateral damage. Hope you’re ready for the spotlight. xoxo

You confront Serena that night in her penthouse. The city glows behind her windows, bright and uncaring.

“You told someone,” you say. Not angry yet. Just hurt.

She shakes her head quickly. “I told one person. Someone I trusted. I never thought—”

“Serena,” you interrupt softly, “I’m the one paying for it.”

That’s when she breaks.

She tells you everything—about the secret she shared, about how it tied you to something bigger than either of you, about how Gossip Girl has been circling her life for years, waiting for moments exactly like this.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I never meant to put you in this.”

Another notification buzzes.

Serena flinches.

You don’t.

For the first time, you understand what it means to be inside her world—the constant exposure, the fear of trusting the wrong person, the way secrets become weapons.

“You don’t get to disappear on me now,” you say gently. “If I’m a target, then we deal with it together.”

She looks up at you, eyes shining. “You’d really stay?”