Enough of you | Gossip Girl

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"Développé. And sustain your turnout to the end. Good. Forget the flourishes. Concentrate on your technique. D'accord, c'est assez." Gwen halted, her breathing slightly labored. "Stop. Good not great. Do better tomorrow." Her instructor waved her off.

"Tbanks, real constructive." Gwen snarked, tossing herself down onto the hard ground so she could remove her pointe shoes. There was a knock sounding from the door of her practice room, and when she looked up she found none other than Alex standing there.

"It's not Wednesday." She pointed out as he sat across from her. "No, it's not." He gave her a grin. "So, why are you here?" She pressed. Alex took the girl's foot, and examined her blistered and bruised toes which she had already slipped through the hole of her tights. "Not too shabby, princess." He complemented.

Gwen simply raised her brows, still waiting for an answer to her question. "I'm here for you." He explained after a moment of her staring at him expectantly. "For me?" She rested her foot against the boy's thigh as she bandaged and wrapped her big toe, which had freshly lost most of its nail.

"Wanna hang out?" He questioned, examining the broken sole of the girl's pointe shoe, which had been broken and glued and then broken and glued some more. "I Can't. I have a shopping date with Serena and Blair."

"Ditch them. They could use some alone time." He advised. "And you owe me Gwendolyn time." He offered a goofy smile. "You might be right about leaving them unsupervised for a little. See if they survive." She considered before her head shot up.

"Alexander Hawthorn, aren't you meant to be indulging in the lost boys weekend?" She questioned him, her eyes wide. "I wasn't invited." He shrugged, before sharing a look with the girl. "I wish I wasn't invited."

"Nonsense. We're going." She announced, jumping to her feet before gathering her things. "To the Lost boys weekend? The all boys lost weekend?" He questioned, to which she simply nodded. "I don't think you're allowed."

"Who's going to tell me no?" She posed before tugging his hand. "Come on." She encouraged him. "You survived Ivy week, successfully solidified your spot at Julliard, god knows why cause you'll just go to Curtis but I digress, now it's time to party."

"You think I'll go to Curtis?" He questioned Gwen, his tone light. "You'd love to leave New York." The girl dragged Alex to her home, which was empty except for Isla. "Parents out of town?" He questioned, glancing around her room as she searched her closet.

It wasn't anything like he had expected. It was large and painfully girly, but it also had walls of bookshelves and pillows littered the floor from her unmade bed. There were photos of her and Blair framed in vintage gold picture frames.

Her nightstands were covered with discarded jewelry sat in ashtrays, piles notebooks in a array of shapes and sizes, jars of candles and wild flowers, and glass bottles of perfumes and nail polishs. There were handwritten letters in a plethora of languages taped to the walls.

There was a sitting area across from her bed, fancy looking chairs with random throw blankets and furry pillows. A painted portrait of a young Gwen and a slightly taller little girl hung on the wall across from her bed.

Gwen emerged from her closet dressed in a sleeveless sparkly blue dress with black lacy detailing, black tights, and a pair of closed toed black heels.