Hell, yes! So Dan and Serena agree to take it slow for like five seconds, but that lasts approximately as long as it takes Serena to turn the jitney back to Manhattan into a hilariously seductive one-woman show of 9 1/2 Weeks. (I realized tonight that I badly misread the scene last week when Serena was scrubbing his suit and he apologized for calling her a whore a billion times; now I can actually enjoy whatever's going on with them. I am a dolt sometimes.) Blair's emotional cover stories-within-cover stories have gotten so insane that she's now convinced she's actually in love with Lord Marcus, whose judgmental, overinvested mother, the Duchess, is also... Nate's girlfriend Catherine! The cougar is a MILF!
While everyone acknowledges that charming Marcus is a total plot device, both inside and outside the show, the Duchess is actually a lot scarier and cooler than she first appeared. Watching her flip back and forth between cute Catherine and demonic Duchess is... kind of like watching Blair do things, meaning it's awesome. Blair steps in about ten kinds of shit trying to get the Duchess's approval, but only after discovering her ex and her future Duchess-in-law in flagrante does she realize just how many of the cards she's holding.
Chuck, who tries to get in good with the Duchess and Lord to wreck Blair's relationship, doesn't even really register this turn of events, because he's too busy selling his shares of Victrola to pay off the Archibald debts without telling Nate. Awww. Also slipping Nate cash currently is the Duchess, so he made it three whole months before going back to prostitution. He spends the entire episode trying to get somebody to talk to him about the fact that the feds are invading every part of his life looking for his dad and assets, but as usual -- even though he's the only person on this entire show with actual problems -- nobody really cares, so he ends at lowest common denominator Vanessa again; she's still holding a candle for him. (So I guess Nate's gonna be caught between royalty and … whatever the awful fuck Vanessa is … but what I really want to see is the inevitable takedown in which the Duchess finally tells Vanessa what a worthless piece she really is. And then kicks Dan in the nuts, God willing.)
Vanessa is also worming her way back into the Humphriana, having put a coffee shop in Rufus's gallery -- although apparently she got permission first, so I guess she's growing as a person -- and he offers to let her run it while he goes on tour with Tanya Donnelly. (Tanya Donnelly!) Of course Vanessa has all the time in the world, because she's home-schooled. (Of course she fucking is.) After finally realizing that he is the worst parent of all time and that his children are relatively awesome, he decides to stay home. No Eric, no Lily or Eleanor, hardly any Jenny... This one belongs to Sexy New Serena, Dan's pectoral muscles and Blair, who spends the entire episode tossing off awesome one-liners, throwing crappy parties, and rising from the flames like a phoenix in Dolce, while blackmailing the Duchess to let her keep dating Lord Marcus. stop matrimony, bitches -- if week's blackout and attendant sexual misconduct doesn't bring things crashing down on everybody.
Check back soon for a full recap -- in the meantime, comment on this episode in our forums! Then check out our gallery of Gossip Girl's Most Unrealistic New York Moments!
"As summer comes to an end, I'd like to share a few of the things I've learned about fun in the sun. Gossip Girl's Guide To Summer, Tip #1: Don't fall asleep on the job. The best hookups are free of morning breath and awkward conversation: the only thing harder than making up is waking up." Serena wakes up on Dan's chest on the beach. Both are still dressed in their excellent outfits from the White Party. She smiles at his face on waking -- I particularly like how his trap is shut when he sleeps, just like a quiet and nonjudgmental angel -- and then thinks a bit harder. She sits up in her bra, and he soon wakes and starts kissing her. She puts on her grandfather's jacket from the '70s and gets weird. He immediately asks if she's "overwhelmed," presumably by the amazingness of their romance and the romantic-ness of having sand in your clothes with the sun coming up, and she's like, "Yes, as in confused." He agrees that last night was mindblowingly awesome, and kisses her again. She's like, "Do you hear the words that are coming out of my mouth?" No, never. He admits that he's confused, so she tries to explain. But just like every other time they fake break up, it doesn't make a shitload of sense, so the burden of proof is once again on the breaker-upper.
"Well, it was so romantic what you did, showing up here," because I know when you travel all the way from the city to call me a whore and act like a total hypocrite that we are truly in love, "And it feels so right to be together..." But, Dan realizes, she's having second thoughts. In order to have second thoughts about a subject, isn't it first necessary to have ... thoughts? "I just think that we should think... Before we get back together, right?" Dan is noncommittal w/r/t this plan of action, because if Serena ever thinks about his behavior for more than one solid minute, she will shoot him in the head. "I thought this meant we were back together," he protests, and he's not wrong, because in fact they are back together, and no amount of running around and farcical hilarity is going to change that. It's one of those situations where what happens is really funny and awesome, but if you think hard about what's really going on, it makes no sense at all. She's asking for "time to think" so that we can witness their ludicrous attempts to keep their hands off each other, and because it's fun and Serena is awesome to watch, that's enough. But if you think about it, that's the ... only reason any of this has happened. This scene is a down payment on a subprime mortgage that buys the storyline in this episode.
She pulls away after a long deep kiss, subvocally going "nuh uh, uh uh," and he apologizes for being so damned irresistible, and they both laugh because he's not really sorry, he's horny. "But this is a big decision, and we did break up for a reason... Many reasons." She admits that the hot makeouts were never the negative part of their relationship, and she's right about that. Dan was meant for kissing. She stands up finally, and he gasps with the overwhelming horniness of life. She says she'll see him back in the city: "Fully clothed, with lots of people around." She smiles over her shoulder as she's leaving -- "We'll talk" -- and Dan sits alone on the beach with his boner, buttoning his shirt. "Yeah, about our problems. That sounds great."
"Summer Tip #2: there's no we in 'summer,' only u and me. Find out where you stand, before you find yourself stood up." GG's on this week, wordplay-wise. Blair and Marcus are yet again on one of their queer lackadaisical bicycling adventure through town, laughing and chuckling and giggling and whatever. "Anyone can canoodle in July and August, but will he be gone by September?" Blair asks Marcus what's , and he says in his awesome British accent that he was thinking breakfast: "A little French toast, some coffee..." She specifies that she means what's for them and explains that, being as he doesn't actually attend college, he's not going back to school, so what's his deal? Is he going to stay in the Hamptons? "Would it be too forward of me to say I'll go wherever you go?" Yes, but no. "I'd be honored, m'lord." Marcus reminds her that she not only is not required to call him that, she in fact shouldn't. Because one thing this show understands is basic forms of address and royal etiquette, and nobody can take that away. "I know, don't worry. I was up all night reading Debrett's Peerage, I'm well versed in your lordly ways, and I'm ready to meet the queen. Which I also watched on DVD, BTW." He pulls ahead, laughing at her ever-so-Blair self-directed study curriculum, and I have to say, if he loves that about her, he's got the right idea. She chases after him on her bike, smiling hugely.
They sit down at a café and Blair tries to broach it again: "As you've probably guessed, I have to get back to the city. Senior year awaits." Marcus says that, being an aimless royal, "a beautiful girl" and "autumn in New York" are good enough reasons to wander thence. "My family will be glad I'm staying in one place for a while." Blair's like: gotcha. "Oh, your family! I'd love to meet the Duke and Duchess!" Marcus gets a little shifty at mention of the Duchess, and Blair's smile fades. She's got her phone out before she even excuses herself.
Outside, Blair's calling for backup. "Things are going south with Lord Marcus." Serena's like, "Who?" That'd be the former James: "It turns out that he was only pretending to be a commoner. It's like Roman Holiday, only I'm Gregory Peck and he's Audrey Hepburn." Serena's response is: Um OK LOL. "He's not really a college student. He's a Lord. And I love him." (This is my favorite line of the entire episode.) Serena accepts this easily, but not the love part: "Blair, love?" Blair swears: "Like, very much. And not just because Tom Hanks gave him a Kleenex at Lady Di's funeral." Serena points out that this is, as usual, all about Chuck, and for some reason Alicia Silverstone takes over Blair's body for a second, starting with her mouth: "Revenge is so twelve hours ago! And just because Marcus happens to be the perfect post-Bass palate-cleanser doesn't mean he isn't a delicious dish in his own right." I mean, the line is total GG, but the way she says it is totally vintage Clueless, right down to chirpy intonation and fricative consonants. Serena accepts the posited soul mate theory and asks what the problem is. This is Blair, so the problem is the usual: "He's being vague about the future." Wow, Speed Racer.
Chuck approaches Marcus inside the café, still wearing his good boy hairdo and that über-smarmy smile. "I was just getting something to eat. Do you mind if I join you?" Marcus admits that he's uneasy, as he's dining with B and is aware that they have history. "Around here, who doesn't? But you're with Blair now. I get that. There's no reason we can't be civil. After all, isn't that a trait your people pride yourselves on?" The meta weirdness of this whole situation, where Brit Ed-as-Chuck is needling Fake Brit Marcus on British stereotypes, is not I think lost on either of them. Marcus agrees that "his people" are all about civility, and shakes his hand with a hilarious "well, for England then..." and Chuck sits. Run, Marcus! This is a short, bumpy road with a rape at the end, trust me.
"Wait, you just found out this guy's real identity," Serena says. "I think it's a little soon to be worrying about the rest of your lives." Which is self-evident reality, which Blair hates like she hates few things. But that's not even the point. The point is not so much the rest of her life as the rest of the year: "It's the season for flings: tennis pros and townies. I'm his secret summer shame!" Serena points out that "fling" implies a certain desultory lack of involvement, which is not something Blair Waldorf or anybody within a mile of Blair Waldorf is capable of enjoying: "You're not exactly low maintenance LOL!" Blair wonders, apropos of summer flings, where Serena disappeared to last night in her gorgeous goddess gown. "Did Lifeguard turn up at the party, or did you find another disposable?" No, and yes; S spots the latter waiting for the jitney and stammers a goodbye, hanging up on Blair with the usual resultant sputtering. She approaches Dan and they have a Stuttering Bee about how one of them was going to take the train and the other the jitney, but now they're both taking the jitney, and they are under no circumstances going to make out, and she excuses herself to sit on the bench away from him.
When Blair returns to the café table, Chuck and Marcus are trading contact info and freaking Blair right out. Marcus is all excited about their date, which he describes as such, to play squash at Bart's sports club. Blair immediately requests that Chuck join her at the sidebar, squeezing his delt in a threatening fashion: "Notice how my voice didn't go up at the end? Not a question." She pulls him aside and is awesome some more: "Squash? I'll squash you." Chuck double-entendres that it's "just a game," and she calls him Basshole on the way to repeating, once again, the total lie that she's into Marcus. I love how every five seconds she leaves him with his mouth hanging open so that she can go lie to somebody about how she is in love with him. Chuck says he likes him too, and has noticed that Marcus doesn't have any friends -- hence his dating her new boyfriend. Which, when you look at it like that, really does make Marcus the new Nate. She shoves him out of the restaurant and comes back to Marcus, chuckling oddly: "Chuck just informed me that he and Serena are leaving immediately. Do you think I could catch a ride back into town with you?"
Nate comes out into the garden, all dressed up to leave. Anne protests that there are still days of summer left to be enjoyed, and he says he'd like to be settled before school starts. Noting her apprehension, he asks if there's a problem: "Louisa's at the house, right? It's not a big deal." Anne admits that there's a problem, and he presses her for it. "The federal prosecutor has taken your father's leaving town as an admission of guilt. They want to forfeit our assets... Restitution." Nate wonders if they're poor now, and she's like, "Not yet. But they have frozen our accounts, and now they're making an inventory of everything that we own. I asked your granddad for help." Nate's embarrassed for his absent father that the Anne money has once again come into the equation, but the truth is worse: "Not that it did any good. As you can imagine, he's not very happy with my role in your father's departure. For the time being, at least, I've been cut off." Good. They are both being stupid. Daddy Archibald is a swine on the run. Nate bitches that she didn't say anything, and she just demonstrates that in this case the apple did not fall far from the tree: "All summer, I kept hoping I could make it go away, and maybe I still can, which is why I need you to keep your chin up and trust that your mother's got this handled." That's just so Nate. Nate tries to one-up her and reminds her how he's the man of the house or whatever, and promised his dad to take care of her. Which, she says, he is; she asks him not to bug her about it further, and Nate's phone rings. It's Cougar Catherine. "Tip #3: take time to smell the flowers." Which is, I guess, code for boning Mädchen Amick. Nate takes off and Anne, as usual, stares dully into space for a while before cracking open another bottle of Chanel No. 5 and downing it in one go.
"It's true that all good things must come to an end, and August is no exception. They don't call it fall for nothing..." Catherine's voicemail is not at all incriminating: "Nate, it's Catherine. Listen, last night was not smart. In fact, it was very, very stupid... Which is why we're gonna have to be much more clever when we get back to the city. Call me when you get this." She hangs up, and immediately her phone rings again: "Oh, darling!" You'll never guess: It's totally Lord Marcus! Catherine is his step-mom, making her the Duchess of Beaton! That is so, so awesome. "Duchess, you weren't home when I packed up. Just wanted to say good-bye to you and Dad before I left."
(But wait, he hasn't seen his step-mother all summer, even though they're both in the same town and attending the same parties with the same people, whom they both know? Oh, Gossip Girl! Your flights of fancy and concomitant incapacity to make basic sense! They thrill and beguile! No, but actually it's okay, because Marcus was in Europe with Blair until yesterday, so if he's staying at a hotel for some weird reason they wouldn't have gotten together yet -- even though they should have at least bumped into each other at VITAMIN WATER IS GOOD FOR YOU EVERYBODY, OKAY? Party -- but who knows the real story. BFF Jeremy is convinced that they are a family of fake-royalty scam artists, and that Gossip Girl is sending us clues about this by not making any damned sense.)
SILF Catherine tells him the Duke is in Boston, but she's "sure he sends his love," and they agree to have dinner in the city that night so he can tell her all about his summer and she can lie that she wasn't engaging in total pedophilia the whole time. Blair comes running out to Marcus's limo giggling madly with a bottle of champagne with which to ply him. "Manhattan, here we come!" Gossip Girl toasts Blair: "Nothing says 'Welcome Home' like a bottle of bubbly... And a scandal bubbling." And so, once again, Blair is party to the massive eruption of contents under pressure in the back of a limo.
Dan listens to his iPod on the jitney; Serena's seat is one row ahead and across the aisle. After a few minutes, she jerks the earphone out of his head to offer him a copy of Nylon: "Sorry. Um, I'm done reading my magazine... And I know that you like the music reviews, so if you want to read it, you can..." Their hands brush as she's handing him the book, and neither of them can let go because their sex is like being electrocuted until you are just the burnt-out husk of a once-living, now barbecue-scented teen tragedy. Then everything becomes totally amazing. Serena produces a giant, chocolate-dipped strawberry, and proceeds to do things to it that I have never seen done to fruit before, organic or otherwise. The music's all like pervy, and the shots are from sixty different flash-cut angles of Serena just going to town on this strawberry like the rent is due, and then proceeding to suck the polish off her nails, down to like the eighth knuckle, the whole time grinning to herself and pretending this hilarious ecstasy, as though she doesn't even notice what a fabulous show she's putting on because the strawberry is just that delicious. Which is, by the way, the most important part of this little routine: the selfish enjoyment and complete disinterest in the rest of the world. She offers him a strawberry and his crossed hazy eyes are like, "Ghnr?" Some time later, she stands up to go to the lav at the back, and the bus hits a bump of course, so she bounces off his giant boner, hits the ceiling, and lands in his lap with her hands perfectly caressing his face. Needless to say -- and without the preceding activities I would judge them fairly harshly for this, but now I just feel helpless -- the thing that happens is total intercourse in a shuttle bus bathroom.
Blair and Marcus discuss his NYC plans, specifically those other than his date with her ex, and he says the Duchess wants to have dinner. "Dinner? I'd love to have dinner with your mother!" Marcus disabuses her of two notions rather brutally. Number one is that she's his biological mother, which she of course is not, "not that this makes her an any-less-forceful presence in my life," and number two is that Blair is not invited to dinner in any way. "We haven't seen each other much all summer, so..." Blair once again falls and rises: "It's just... You'll be missing my big party?" I love the way Leighton plays this scene: it's very specifically celebutante champagne drunk, from the way her head nods and wags around, to her eyes' variable width, to the way she does the "never mind" headshake if she's not up to explaining something. Just the instant vagueness of Blair in the back of a limo telling lies. "I can't believe I didn't mention it. Every year I have a big Welcome Back To The City party for all my friends. It's only my favorite event of the year..." Marcus says he'll get a rain check from the duchess, and Blair says no way does he have to do that, but thanks him. He is, by the way, also totally acting champagne drunk, wobbling around and trailing off at weird parts of words. Aesome. She texts Dorota (911, party to plan!!!) and they smile vaguely at each other; she waves the furious texting off like "you know how it is, we're drunk, don't worry about it." Hopefully that's the explanation for the punctuation abuse, anyway: my Blair certainly doesn't hit three exclamation points when only one is required.
In Chuck's limo, he and Nate are about three seconds from actually having gay sex. I know I joke about it a lot, because it's funny, but this is something new entirely. Plus, Nate is being hilarious: "No offense, but don't you think you're a little outmatched?" Chuck protests that he's been playing squash with Bart since eighth grade (so, two years?) but it is not squash that Nate is talking about: "No, I mean... as a guy." HA! Nate explains that now that Blair has decided she wants to be an actual literal princess, Chuck's greatest achievement -- owning part of a burlesque club -- is not quite so impressive. "Which is why I have to get to know him. See, no one's that perfect. Once I get him out of the way, then I'll have a clear shot at Blair." Nate says that only when you start talking like an assassin do you know it's love; this is exactly why Chuck and Blair belong together and Nate doesn't get it, because he's being sarcastic when the real answer is, "Yes, that is exactly how you know." Chuck accuses Nate of being jealous of his new BFF, and Nate says that he's been waiting for somebody to "tag in" for awhile now, then they make out with each other like two strawberries dipped in gayness. Kidding. Somebody (Anne Archibald) calls Chuck and he answers curtly: "I can't talk right now. I'll have to call you when I'm home." He hangs up, visibly a little freaked out a bit, and does very good acting with the eyes part of his face; Nate assumes, justifiably, that this is related to Blair and tells him to go right ahead. Chuck lets him believe that it does, and they both stare at things: Chuck, worried, trains his eyes out the window, and Nate stares into space without thoughts of any kind. Because it is Nate.
Rufus, having finally returned to DUMBO, stares at the newly remodeled storage area of his gallery, which is now a trés coffee-shop-by-Ikea courtesy of Vanessa Fucking Abrams. My only question is, did Rufus specifically ask her to do this, or did she break in and redecorate of her own accord? "You're being very quiet. Is that good quiet or bad quiet?" Rufus totally loves it, and says he's impressed: "When I talked about converting our storage space into a café, I was thinking of a folding table and a coffeemaker." She laughs and he thanks her quite seriously, calling it a "great homecoming present" and "exactly what [he] needed"; Vanessa points out, in her usual abrasive manner, that he should just be happy to be home and with his family. "Yeah, of course. I can't wait till the kids get back from the Hamptons. I miss 'em like crazy!" Vanessa keeps pushing and he's like, "I had a great time this summer. I had forgotten what it was like to be on the road, performing for a live audience night after night... I'm grateful for the memory." He tells her to make him some coffee to go, because he needs to go talk to somebody downtown about getting the fuck out of town again before he's forced to spend one solitary second with his children.
Nate returns to Castle Archibald in time to see a bunch of cops raiding all his shit and he's like, "Since this is my house, how about I ask the questions?" and the cops are like, "You are so butch! That's cute! Say it again!" and the lawyer is there supervising the cops going through all their shit and Nate is so mad and angry and stomps his little feet and the cops are like, "Hey, little teapot, don't get steamed! It's not about you, it's about your deranged mother who's about to lose her entire mind and then you'll be all alone," and Nate calls Catherine because he has no friends, and the friends he does have are part of the world that is going to notice his total shame if he becomes poor or his dad goes to jail, so it has to be somebody with less shame and/or more to lose than he does, so it's either Vanessa or Catherine at this point, and even Nate can tell the difference between a MILF and a last resort.
Squash is either deceptively simple or deceptively complex. Because it seems to be about hitting a ball against a wall, and then following that up by hitting the same ball against the same wall. Which seems even more pointless than most sports. I don't know if that's even the point of the game and actually I'm just distracted by the ball and the wall, and the actual game has to do with something else entirely. Chuck says that Marcus is off his game, and then needles him to admit that he's worried about the Duchess, who finds zero girls good enough for him, even "topflight" ones, and always gets inside their heads and ruthlessly exploits their fears. Chuck is like, "I am going to marry the Duchess now that you've said that." Mostly I think that Catherine is twice the cougar we think and that there's all kinds of creepy and awkward coming between Marcus and Catherine, Catherine and Nate and Everybody and Chuck. Probably Vanessa will stick her big stupid face in there too, and I cannot wait for any of it. "Not to mention, she's completely got my father's ear. Of course, Blair is desperate to meet her..." Which, Chuck knows, means she is going to, because it's Blair. I think Chuck wins the game at this point, but then, it's just a game; he asks for Marcus's home number (at the duchy?) under some fake pretext so that he can enlist the Duchess in his evil ploy, and they run off in separate directions. Gossip Girl? Loving it. "Spotted: Chuck Bass, putting his new BFF on speed dial. Is it the beginning of a beautiful bromance? Or the end of Blair's bid to be British?"
Blair runs around with a clipboard loudly managing Dorota's management of Waldorf World: "Well done, Dorota, I like what I'm seeing. Now make the library the sky terrace... ranunculus dahlias, Veuve Clicquot Laurent-Pierre, and I think we have ourselves a party. This guest list, however, is a complete Page One." Dorota protests that it's Blair's friends, and B nearly loses it, shoving the checklist at her: "Then invite strangers!" B calms herself and explains: "I have to present myself as a crown jewel: surrounded by other -- smaller, slightly flawed -- gems, but quality stones nonetheless. And try to round up a couple people who can vote so it doesn't feel like a total high school party." Serena enters and asks WTF they're doing making a party out of nowhere, and B explains that Marcus has decided she's unworthy of meeting his family. S gives a very excellent OMG/WTF, and B continues with her explanation over Serena's multiple protests: "Obviously I have some more work to do... Marcus dated the descendant of Princess Grace. His consort needs to be able to host royal dinners, and hobnob with oligarchs and dictators." S agrees that if anybody can find common ground with a dictator, it's Blair Waldorf. "Dan likes soccer, right? Or football, as Marcus calls it. You think it'd be too weird if he came? You'll call him." Serena asks if that means Blair is willing to admit that Dan has redeeming qualities, but Blair's not giving up the goods that easily: "As long as he knows his arse from his Arsenal, I think he's aces." Serena makes the mistake of bringing up her current turmoil -- the breakup, the makeup, the fruit fellatio and subsequent lavatory lovin' -- and Blair makes a huge blech noise: "What is to think about? You're finally free from Downer Dan --" she takes S's hands in her own and swings them London Bridges style, "-- and I have my old Serena back!" She drags Serena into the bowels of Waldorf World to continue planning this party.
Nate enters the Bass suite at the Palace to be comforted about his whole life falling apart issue, and Chuck is like, "I'm busy, dude." Nate assumes that Chuck is boning a girl, because he buys Chuck's propaganda better than anybody, but then what about Blair? Chuck explains that he is selling his interest in the Victrola, which Nate protests but Chuck says it's Nate's fault for pointing out that he's gotta compete with Marcus, and then blows Nate off. Having run down his very short list of friends, from MILF to BFF, and been brutally rebuffed in both instances, he finally calls Vanessa. Which I think is a good role to have Vanessa Abrams play in your life, because no matter how low you are or how sad your hardscrabble existence has become, Vanessa is always going to be more pathetic than you are, and that's sweet of her really. Chuck's smile drops the second Nate leaves, because this whole scene is a lie, and in conversing with the lawyer explains that in fact this is all about giving the money to Anne Archibald and not impressing Blair at all, because the only thing Chuck loves more than Blair is Nate. We find out that the Anne was the mystery caller when Chuck was in the limo with Nate before, checking in to make sure that Nate was okay, which caused Chuck to go into full-on protective mode. But in the midst of all this is, he still found time to make Nate feel like extraneous shit while in the middle of the deal, and that is just the art of being Chuck.
Serena is trying on the ugliest top I've ever seen with these labial fold-things on the shoulders. Like, it might be ugly enough that Dan can actually hear how ugly it is on the phone and perhaps this influences the scene, but he's like, "The plan you had for no reason -- about us not fucking -- failed because it was flawed on a fundamental level, ie because you came up with it. But I have a better plan and because it's mine and not yours, it's going to work way better." What is the plan? "It is the same plan you had, only this time I invented it." Serena's sad, chooses a much, much cuter dress for the party, and tells him about Blair's party and his required presences due to his knowledge of the Premier League, and then pronounces integral in a weird way. They agree that even though Dan's plan is equally stupid at least it'll get us to the commercial break and anyway they can make up another stupid plan tomorrow, after the party, since this one is also obviously going to fail. I mean, I appreciate that you have to put obstacles in the path of a show's romantic leads or else it would be boring, but do you have to laminate them and hang a sign on them that says "Romantic Obstacle"? The only reason it's working in this case is because it's so moronic and silly and high-school, Blake Lively is a joy to watch especially when she's having fun, and the less clothes he's wearing, the less annoying Dan is. ...Okay, which is a lot of reasons, so I'll shut up now.
Not shutting up, now or ever, is Vanessa Abrams, who is entertaining Nate at Rufus's sad coffee shop that is apparently the new Peach Pit. Nate's like, "They're just trying to shake us," and Vanessa indicates that another good response to the cops taking away your stuff is to rat out the bastard father that caused all the trouble in her usual way of being nosy and bossy. Nate says that not even a relationship so scarred that every single scene containing both Nate and his father results in Nate knocking the shit out of his father would cause him to make such a logical and healthy choice as to get his father extradited from Venezuela or wherever. Then Vanessa gets easily fifty times more fucking insufferable. "...If the worst-case scenario comes true, I promise my sister and I will give your mom some good pointers on how to do more with less." She's smarmy and impressed with this, and Nate tosses her a pity laugh, but I don't see what's so funny about that, like, she's basically making a joke about the total destruction of the one thing Nate cares about, which is his family. "Ha ha, you're poor and your parents are drug addicts that constantly try to commit suicide!" Although points for her line: "The Salvation Army's having a bag sale on Saturday, and Ruby knows this place in the village that has two-for-one taco night..." Nate tells her to quit, but that's not the punchline: "...It's lesbian-Mexican -- sometimes her band plays there." Okay, that's awesome. That is so OMFG-worthy that it kind of redeems V a tiny bit. Of course, God forbid Vanessa get to be cool for more than one second, so Nate's phone rings.
Anne gardens cheerfully, having clearly downed some expired prescription pills with the rest of the household cleaner. She apologizes for scaring Nate this morning, but assures him she's fixed everything. "You didn't tell them where Dad is, did you?" She's like, no! That would make too much sense! "I just got a loan from a ... family friend," whom she will not name. Nate's rightly suspicious: "I just find it hard to believe that you opened up to one of the Book Club ladies and told them we're completely broke..." Anne says that the mysterious benefactor is not in the Book Club, or in fact her regular circle at all, and he's all, "So you asked a random for money?" She insists she asked for nothing, this person just offered and when she begged off he said it was the right thing to do. Right thing to do... Nate has heard that phrase somewhere before. Aha! It's Chuck, who used this same phrase a few scenes back. With that, Nate "quickly" figures out what's going on: "You said he's outside of your regular circle? Is he in mine?" Anne tells him to quit interrogating her and he hangs up on her, promising not to bother her about taking money from his schoolmates again, because he's going to stop it at the source. Because Nate's a gentleman, he remembers to say goodbye to Lonelygirl43 on his way out and compliment her Ikea decorating skills.
Chuck's hanging around some social see and be seen swanky place or another when Catherine enters. She approaches him -- "Charles Bass?" -- and he stands, impressed. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone so young ... or so beautiful." She tells him that just because she didn't give birth to Marcus, it doesn't mean she's less interested in his well-being or in indulging her own pedophiliac tendencies, so WTF does Charles want because she doesn't usually have meetings with "children." Just sex with them. He comes around the table and holds her chair for her, being a billion times sexier/smarmier than usual, and as GG sums up the scene with typical cutesy witticisms ("Lordy lordy, look who's 40... Or at least a well-preserved 38. We knew Chuck had a thing for older women, but is this risky business or strictly business?"), Chuck prances back to his seat and perches there like Tinkerbell, attempting to smolder at the Duchess, but apparently picturing her as Nate. Which goes to a weird, weird place super fast if you think about it.
We return from commercial with some aerial shots of the city, heading into the doldrums of Blair's Party From Hell. There's a flautist and harpist performing a perfectly fine rendition of something classical, but the people at the party are all bored and awkward and dead inside and it's just perfect. Serena's dress is awesome, that same toga style in a lovely deep violet batik print or something. The song ends, to anemic applause, and even Blair has trouble manufacturing excitement: "Wasn't that wonderful. Thank you, Ingrid and Beatrice." The person to whom she was speaking corrects her ("I'm Ingrid. She's Beatrice.") and Blair gives the most hilariously bitchy line reading of the episode: "That's what I said." She hustles Marcus off with a dead-eyed, fake shimmering "I just love Mozart," but she's so intense and preoccupied she doesn't even hear him correcting her.
Serena quietly asks at B's elbow WTF these weirdos are doing there, and gives a subtly funny OMG LOL at B's non-explanation that Dorota invited them. Dan enters and S tries to insert herself into the coked-up welcome brigade B perpetrates on his unsuspecting ass, but gets caught in the middle of servant traffic so she can't save him. Marcus tries to introduce Dan to S and they get all sexy and starry-eyed about how they've -- ahem -- met. B interrupts to explain to Marcus that Dan's a total Chelsea fan. Serena's new (and awesome) carefree nature once again thrusts itself to the forefront, all, "Me too! I just love the Balenciaga store LOL." Blair makes a tiny ouch face at the overarching awkwardness of this entire phase of her life and drinks her drink to the drinky-drunk dregs. Marcus offers to refresh her drink and she smacks her lips at the chaos.
So if the whole first season, as explicated and explored by the S/Lonelyboy relationship, was about Brooklyn v. Manhattan, no money v. old money v. new money, then this season has to raise the bar by introducing aristocracy, which is the only thing every single person on this show is beneath. Even poor royalty, which BFF Jeremy is convinced they somehow secretly are, is still above Waldorf and Bass, the same way that Bart Bass has more money but less old-money cachet than the Waldorf millions. And you know how much I love the whole theory about the show as a regular drama with the bottom 85% of Maszlow's Pyramid chopped off and tossed in the trash -- mo' money mo' problems, etc. -- so I think it's incredibly canny not only in terms of the show's scope but in the ongoing project that is Blair Waldorf to introduce Lord Marcus and his attendant class warfare bullshit at just this second. Because if we're going to have Blair rising from the flames constantly, which is after all the best thing about the show, you have to put her in the flames occasionally, and last year wore out her stigma card pretty much. So: introduce a higher social class than even the ridiculous social class the show was about, and watch her dog-paddle her way to victory. Which I love, of course, but I think what I love the most is the ridiculous dialogue that results: whenever Marcus or the Duchess comes up, everybody starts talking like Cassidine fan fiction written by a bright fourteen-year-old girl in 1982, all "common American/lowly Waldorf" this and "love me for my title" that. It's simultaneously the lamest and most awesome thing about this season.
Dan and Serena take a turn around the rooftop garden; Dan's loving how Blair actually calls Marcus "The Lord," and Serena is all about breaking their rules again because she's so happy to see him, but then spots Chuck Bass over Dan's shoulder and shudders. Aaaand he's there as Duchess Catherine's plus-one. Blair runs up to them with a shiny bright knife in her hand to stab Chuck with, and Serena's having that nightmare where you try to run and your feet don't move, so she can't save Blair from the shit she's about to pull, nor can she tell Dan exactly why this is the worst thing that could happen, because she knows Catherine and her history. Chuck grins and says he thought B would like to meet his friend, which B finds revolting: "Why? So she can warn me about the effects of too much Botox?" Catherine smiles toothily and confirms that she's talking to Blair Waldorf, who smiles tiredly as though to say, "I am already having a day here, bitch," and Catherine -- apparently having misplaced her own copy of DeBrett's -- informs her that she is "Duchess Beaton." Serena OMGs and Blair puts an awesome face on it, despite nearly barfing around the foot she's got lodged in her mouth: "...Nice to meet you!" Catherine smiles, because she remains the reigning champion of women with an unhealthy interest in her stepson, and B just stepped in shit a mile deep.
When Rufus returns to the coffee shop, Vanessa -- because like a vampire, you cannot invite her in without her constantly showing up and doing demonic shit -- is putting out sunflowers on all the tables. (I wish that he would be like, "Sunflowers! I gave Lily sunflowers when she miscarried our baby from the '90s!" and then punch Vanessa in the box. "No! Sunflowers! EVER!") He tells Vanessa she's doing such a great job, and admits that he was just meeting with the Thinking Person's Lisa Loeb, Tanya Donnelly. I had the horrifying experience last spring of learning that my friend Liz, whom I think of as being the same age as me because we're all the same age now, say that she'd never heard of Belly or Tanya Donnelly. Just like that, like, "What's this oxygen you're talking about? People used to breathe it? Was this before there was the internet?" And you would have to say, like, "No! We totally had... Netscape..."
I don't know who I would be if I hadn't been/weren't still obsessed with those two bands, but it's like, you can't really go back in time to then. Like, if I made you a Belly mixtape today, you would think I was super sweet but it probably wouldn't make sense to listen to musically. It would be like making a Belinda Carlisle mixtape, or like Ani DiFranco: perfectly fine, but weirdly anachronistic. You'd have to go into all this random stuff for context, and it would just be ... boring and stupid. But then Rufus still lives there, so it makes total sense, like your little brother thinking he discovered Nirvana even though the Foo Fighters are standing right over there.
Anyway, Tanya Donnelly has a wee elfin college tour coming up, I guess to remind people that Lovesongs For Underdogs (Fuckin' 1997!!! Not a lie! I am truthin'!) wasn't the last thing that happened to her. Vanessa asks what D and Little J think about Rufus going on another tour without even seeing them yet, and Rufus of course doesn't care about that. He wants to know if Vanessa can wedge her beautiful ass even further into the DNA of this show by taking over the gallery coffee shop, because... suddenly the coffee shop, which doesn't even fucking exist yet, is his only responsibility. Besides his kids, of course, who are none such. What is it about Brooklyn that makes parents act like children and children act like know-it-all parents? I need all the kids over here on this side of the room, and all the grownups on the other side of the room, and then we're going to watch a short film on the subject of pulling it together. But disapproving or not, Vanessa is of course available, since -- and take a strong sip of this steaming cup of Abrams Blend bullshit right here -- she's homeschooled anyway.
I hate Vanessa Abrams so much that I am kind of in love with her. Of course she's homeschooled. And not even in a nature/nurture way where it explains her lack of social skills, but in that she would make this choice because she is pretentious and living her retarded dream of running away from Vermont into the loving punk rock lesbian arms of her stupid van-owning sister and homeschooling herself and making her film dreams a reality. When in real life her forty-year-old boyfriend would spend her entire Ramen budget on smack within a week and she'd end up running to Vermont screaming bloody murder. And the way they're acting, said Ramen-scuttling boyfriend could very well be Rufus Humphrey, which might well literally kill Dan, so you know, carry on, because that's what we call a win/win/win. Rufus admits that he's not done running around like a heathen, she commends him on his shit-headed honesty while strongly implying that he is being an asshole, which he is but two wrongs don't make a right, and then says she'd be happy to cover his ass. Just like his other two kids.
Serena steers Blair -- which, given their relative sizes, can't be too hard; she could just pick the bitch up and carry her, honestly -- toward the Duchess so that B can apologize. Serena will not take no for an answer, although a few seconds later she's rethinking: "Duchess? I am so sorry about what I said, about the Botox. Your work is flawless." Serena finds this hilariously awkward, but the Duchess is not impressed. Blair takes a few more bouncy steps into the Death Zone. "Look, I know you're here with Chuck, and I can only imagine what he's said about me -- limo sex, social torture of freshmen, blackmail -- but I assure you, there is an explanation for all of it." So, so awesome. So of course the Big D is like, "Save it, he didn't tell me anything, but you just did." Blair's cutely, momentarily touched that Chuck didn't spill to the Duchess, but Serena's one step ahead: "Wait. He didn't?" Didn't need to. "None of it makes any difference to me," she says, and B -- who for the purposes of this scene seems to have borrowed Little J's brain damage, honestly -- smiles some more but then is hurt by the independent clause that follows: "Nothing will change the fact that despite your best efforts -- which are completely transparent, by the way -- Marcus is never going to end up with a lowly Waldorf." Who talks like this?
Serena spots Nate entering, of course, at just this second, and calls his name just forcefully enough -- and vectored right at the Duchess -- that Catherine jumps and looks over. There's a lot of "Nate?" "Catherine?" and like that, and Serena starts awesomely babbling: "No. No no no, but yeah, but just from Book Club this summer, but that's it, they've had no other personal contact," just like that, while dragging Nate over. She explains the total lies of everything to Nate, about how Blair's dating Catherine's stepson Marcus, and to Catherine, that Nate is Blair's ex. This is so awesome that it causes a rent in time, space and the fourth wall, as even Gossip Girl is like, FUCKING FOR REAL? "What's this? Chuck's date and Blair's date are mother and son? And Nate and Blair are exes? And Nate and the mother are in a Book Club? Now there's a novel plot twist..." I love how even Gossip Girl is finally like, "This show is BANANAS!"
Later, Serena is watching Blair melt down elsewhere on the roof. "This party's a complete bust. My whole life's a bust." Serena tells her it's her own fault -- yeah, she does -- because she was scheming to convince Marcus that she's somebody she isn't. "But my intentions were good. I really do like him. I just... As soon as I knew he liked me, I would have relaxed and dropped the manipulative plotting and devoted myself to being the best girlfriend ever." (Which is so, so true, and one of the many wonderful things about my girl B, but only if you take out the part where this is still and will always be an elaborate ruse designed to drive Chuck insane, so she's speaking in character but talking around the secret ugly thing at the middle of it, which is also totally in character.) Serena agrees and says all she has to do is show the real B to Catherine, and everything will work out. "This is you. Just be yourself." B complains that the D made "Waldorf" rhyme with "Spears," and that she might just as well have "gone commando and held my party at Nyla's Burger Basket." Serena flees from both the self-pity and "denigration of the fine people" of Kentwood LA, and runs off to find Dan after ordering B once more to cheer up.
Nate stomps his little feet all around, and eventually finds Chuck, bitching him out for the hidous betrayal. Chuck's all about what's currently going on, so he plays it off: "Bring the Duchess to Blair's party? What do you care?" Um, no, the money thing. Chuck tries to talk him down, but Nate won't even let him speak. "You weren't trying to sell Victrola to impress Blair. You did it to loan my family money?" Um, yeah. Which is beautiful. Chuck is like, "I don't see the problem," and Nate is like, "Okay so maybe you were just doing it to be a friend, but I would never let you do that, and you knew that, which is why you didn't tell me." Chuck's like, Um, yeah. "So what? You go behind my back and make a deal with my mom?" Yes, again. I wonder if how much of Nate's huffiness is about this being the first time he ever figured anything out, ever. "She called me to see if I thought you were okay. I didn't know what she was talking about, because you didn't tell me anything was wrong." Nate says that yes, the thing that is wrong is that Chuck lied to him. To his face! Because of all the things Nate is willing to let Chuck or strangers with candy do all over his face, lying is not one of them. Giant loads of lies all over his face? That's where Nate draws the line. Chuck's like, "Yeah, that sounds bad when you say it like that, but let me start over at the beginning because you're acting stupid." Nate just starts screaming incomprehensibly and flapping his arms around, and eventually runs off. Nate drama! I love it!
In the elevator foyer Dan and Serena are like, "Our storyline where we're so busy not fucking that all we do is fuck, that's still stupid. Let's fuck." Or as Serena refers to it, following their hearts. Based on what's pushed up against his sternum (because he's really short and she's really tall, get it?) Dan surmises that her heart is not really what she's following. She tells him to shut up and take it! He does. Nate comes around the corner and watches them dry-hump for about ten minutes before he figures out that they're dating/not-dating/whatever again, and he's dimly pleased and intrigued. Serena once again owns the scene -- she's just awesome the whole episode, really -- tapping Dan's shoulder quietly and making a space for the Holy Spirit even though she's still got him backed up against the wall. She asks if Nate's leaving with them, but right then his phone beeps: Catherine's got the Batsignal flashing in the library, and he's her own personal Boy Wonder. Nate scampers off like a good little tadpole, and Dan and Serena get dirty in the elevator. Going down?
Desperate to have someone to talk to that wasn't homeschooled, Nate enters the lair of the cougar and immediately starts having emo feelings on the couch. Catherine's like, "I know it's weird that your ex is dating my kid, but what's really bothering you?" I love how much she actually just honestly likes and gets him, even though if the genders were reversed that would so be the creepiest part. He says the sad thing is that now that the summer's over, she's not even going to pretend to be interested in him as a person, because nobody ever, ever is. "But when the best version of the situation Is that I'm gonna become Blair's father-in-law? I think it's just time to move on, Catherine." She shifts effortlessly into "I really do give a damn" mode, and whether or not she means it, I don't really care, because I believe firmly that people should, as a rule, be nicer to Nate. That's all I ask.
DUMBO. Rufus enters quietly and checks the answering machine, which is Jenny saying hello and that Dan will pick her up at the train station since their whole childhoods have been about surviving with no parenting whatsoever, while having a water fight with Eric. He goes into her room and remembers that she exists and that he kind of likes her, even though the eggplant colors of her hideous homemade fashions give him a migraine, and then flips through Dan's stupid notebook on the dining room table without reading a word, and then looks at an enormous corkboard covered in summer memories that don't include him. And I know we're supposed to think it's Jenny's, this collage, because: teenage girl, I think it's funnier to imagine that the person who spent all summer perfecting this collage -- random words cut out of magazines, people grinning -- was actually Dan, because: teenage girl. Something about these objects and images cuts through his self-indulgent ADD and he remembers reality for one second and calls Tanya Donnelly to tell her Lincoln Hawk won't be touring with her, but probably she could call Deep Blue Something's agent.
In the library, Catherine is saying something very interesting which is sort of about Nate's mum, but is really about her, and by extension everybody on the show: "I think Anne Archibald would rather die than lose her house, her things. They're her whole identity." Nate knows the truth of that, and swears again that he will fix it somehow. "God, but it's not what she's gonna have to live without. It's what she's gonna have to live with! I mean, a scandal will destroy her. Can you imagine her watching her house seized, her grandmother's jewels up for auction?" ("Grandmother's jewels" being, if last season is any indication, a reminder that Nate will whore himself out for his family in the time it takes to say "federal prosecution," and thus to prepare us for the rest of the episode.) He says again that he's going to fix it, going to fix it, and Catherine just looks worriedly at him, because no he's not. She gets all seductive and puts forth the idea that Nate fixing it and Catherine buying that sweet ass wholesale might be one and the same thing. "It'd just be between you and me. No one would have to know. I care about you, Nate. I would do it for you." Nate asks what he'd have to do in return, and her kiss is one answer, but what would be awesome is if she pulled a Helen Hunt/Nicole Kidman and made him kill her husband. Whose name could then turn out to be Ferdinand, and the season would end in a world war of unforeshadowed brutality.
Best sequence of the week: Blair asks Dorota where the Duchess is, ready for round three, and is directed to the library. An awesome Santogold song goes crazy as she walks down the hall, blocking out all sound. (Got no need for the fancy things/ All the attention that it brings/ Tell me no I say yes, I was chosen/ And I will deliver the explosion... Me, I'm a Creator/ Thrill is to make it up/ The rules I break got me a place/ Up on the radar/ Me, I'm a Taker/ Know what the stakes are/ Can't roll it back, it's understood/ Got to play our cards...) Blair looks around the library and doesn't see anything, but just as she's turning to leave she hears two things: Nate's familiar moan, and a strange answer. She goes back in: Nate's on top of the Duchess, with his shirt up over his head. And in the immortal words of Blair Waldorf: "Oh my effing God!"
I run the streets and I break up houses/ River runs deep and the flame devours it... Steady friction in this bitch/ Creepin' in just like an itch/ So far I got the last laugh.../ Blindside tend to hit real hard/ You should heed the warning, get a bodyguard...
Nate struggles back into his blazer, pissy still about how he doesn't need to explain himself to Blair of all people, but she grins to herself. "No explanation necessary! I think I got it." Nate calls to Catherine as he's leaving, but B assures him she'll be just a minute more. She retrieves the Duchess's shoe, Princess Charming in word and deed, and smiles sweetly: "Here you go. Can I just say how sorry I am that I judged you earlier?" Admirably, Catherine has enough presence of mind to be appalled: "You judged me?" Um yeah, Julie Cooper. "I thought you were just a callow, social-climbing former swimsuit model who married above her station only to be enslaved by her own insecurities." (And how great is it that B nailed it in one, but would never say it aloud until she had the upper hand?) "But now that I've seen you rolling around on the floor with my adolescent ex, I understand you have a compassionate side, too..." Catherine asks where she's heading with this: "I think you'll find it in your heart to take pity on me, and in spite of my common, lowly, unroyal ways, accept that I have true feelings for Marcus and that he has them for me, too. I think that would be the best thing for both of us, don't you?" Steady friction in this bitch, indeed. Oh, Blair! Look at you! You're doing so good!
Lord Marcus comes around the corner and the two women chorus, like the best movie ever, "Hello, darling!" That killed me. Marcus come around hard to protect Blair, asking if he's too late to rescue her. "As soon as I heard you were at Blair's party, Duchess, I knew I had to find you and do damage control. Is there still time, or have you already scared Blair off?" Catherine smiles and gives her approval through gritted teeth."She never likes my girlfriends," he says, wagging tail, and Blair assures him the D just needed to meet the real Blair Waldorf. And, oh, did she. "...Did you say girlfriend?" she simpers, and throws her arms around him, cutting death glares at Catherine over his shoulder.
DUMBO Humphriana in freefall, salient points being that Rufus is very happy to be cooking dinner and being needled by his ridiculous progeny; Jenny is making a dress for ~♥~Tinsley~♥~; Dan is bloating his stupid short story into a stupid novel; they both still think their Dad is borderline retarded; they are all well-meaning but awkwardly rude to each other; Jenny eats food right in front of you; Rufus realizes that home is where the heart is or some shit. Two weeks until Lily comes back and then I'll muster up a fuck.
B and S head to the Bass kitchen in the adorable PJs, as Blair's thanking Serena for talking her out of her royalty mean reds, they bump into Chuck, who asks for a moment with Blair. Serena, adorably, ganks Chuck's OJ out of his hands and wanders off mumbling to herself. Chuck asks if B enjoyed meeting the Duchess, and is thrown by the total victory implicit in her reply. "I know. Your plan to ruin me totally backfired. Turns out Marcus' mommy is even sicker than you are." Chuck, hilariously, replies to this with real terror: "You got along great." And it's true, the idea of the D and B joining forces would make anybody crap their pants. "I think she recognized a part of herself in me. Or rather, I recognized someone in her." Blair blows off his confusion, saying the important thing is that he lost, but should take comfort in the fact that it was a solid effort. He swears that tomorrow's another day, and she wishes him a joyful goodnight, smiling over her shoulder. I love this so much, I love them together. I love that the conversation they just had went, "I am openly trying to destroy your relationship because I am in love with you and/or need to dominate you" and her reply is, "Not today, but someday maybe, because I am in love with you and/or need to dominate you."
I went on and on last week, but I mean: all of television could be seen as a complex equation trying to solve for X, X being how you keep the rootability of a relationship and satisfy the audience, while simultaneously not ending the story right there. (And thus, X being how you -- the person watching TV -- can possibly be satisfied with anything, ever.) Tragedies end in death, comedies end in marriage, but TV shows don't end, so what do you do? This. This right here, while also using it as a metaphor for the very real fear of betrayal that love, as an act of trust, always already implies. They could go on like this forever, and I don't think it would ever feel less than fresh, because having two narcissists so completely in control of their environments that everybody else is terrified of them and their methods, while always teasing the idea of either or both of them giving in, is the perfect metaphor for love: you know it's love when you start talking like an assassin/you know it's love when the burlesque ends and you keep dancing. And by the same Cruel Intentions/Dangerous Liaisons token, any happy ending is just a temporary resting place before one or the other one yanks the rug out from under the other one again, you know? You wouldn't be shocked if one of them gave in, just laid it down like a tamed shrew, and the other one was like, "Oops, I did it again!" And boom: new cycle of the story, without any waiting or dead air, because you know you can't trust these bitches. It's so fantastic.
"New York, I love you but you're bringing me down" is the song, Gallery Humphrey the location. Vanessa, sitting alone with pathetic poor-people Chinese takeaway and candles lit, answers the phone longsufferingly, apologizing for Nate without him having to even make up a lie. "It's okay. I was tired anyway. So we'll hang out another time?" He swears yes, and she -- yellow nail polish, people -- goes off to cry and make a sad art film about her life. On the other end of the phone, Nate hangs up just as Catherine gets into his limo with an envelope of cash: "Are we good?" Most assuredly, they are. Somebody should have taken GG's tips a little more closely, because now that the summer's over, it's not Catherine who has a life to go back to, it's Nate. The problem with fucking Duchesses is that they don't understand your youth or your financial issues except insofar as they get the upper hand out of it; meanwhile, Vanessa may be stuck in her own lifestyle, but she doesn't judge, and doesn't want anything beyond friendship and love, and she's the only one who actually understands what he's going through, because she listens to the words coming out of his mouth, not just his body. So even though it's Vanessa, it's fair to say that he was right when he said coming back to the city was going to change things, because it is always easier to be normal, if you're doing it right.
"Every summer, vacationers traverse the globe in search of new sights and experiences. But when it comes to scandal, I'll take Manhattan every time. Welcome home, Upper East Siders. You know you missed me."
And oh, we did. XOXO.