Exile

3.Terrible Persuasion

Jake, I'm sure she's fine, it's not like we've heard screams or something.' - Quil Ateara

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Blair Waldorf hazily watched Emily move around the kitchen like a human tornado, like she had been doing for the past hour. Emily had decided it would be fun to pick her up at 10 o'clock and Blair, too apathetic to protest, had indulged her; her depression had returned with a vengeance last night after spotting the red tights Chuck had fawned over on numerous occasions at the back of her closet.

She rested her chin on her hands, a soft sigh escaping her red stained lips; at this point it really had become impossible to determine just how many limbs Emily had, she seemed to be everywhere; stirring, lifting, tasting, chopping…

It was fascinating really-, if you were into Martha Stewart sort of things.

'So Blair, what's his name?' Emily said as she shoved something in the oven.

Well that snapped her out of her tiredness induced reverie: 'Excuse me?'

'The boy that drove you to the wilderness that is La Push,' Emily said, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

'What makes you think there's a boy?'

'Girls like you don't just get dragged to places like this.'

Blair smirked; observant.

'So, who is he?'

'Chuck Bass,' she said softly, the name burning her tongue like an expletive as a familiar feeling of hurt caused her stomach to churn painfully.

'What did he do?' Emily asked sounding casual but her rigid posture easily gave away her evident curiosity as she sat down across from Blair to chop some vegetables.

'What didn't he do?'

Emily made a face. 'That bad huh?'

'Trust me, you don't want to know, it's confusing,' and incredibly scandalous, but she let out that part not wanting to damage her reputation before she even had one.

'I'm a smart girl,' Emily retorted nonchalantly though she nearly sliced her finger instead of the carrot she'd been aiming for.

Blair let's out a dramatic sigh but explained nonetheless as she chose her words carefully unwilling to reveal the more personally damaging specifics of her tryst with Chuck; after all she was only willing to share her dramatics, not commit social suicide…

'We sort of started something after I broke up with my lifelong boyfriend, I guess you could say he suddenly saw a different side of me and then he swept me of my feet with this fantastic romantic gesture before going all psycho boyfriend on me and ruining my cotillion because he couldn't keep his ego in check for one night-,' she took a moment to compose herself since the mere mention of Chuck Bass always seemed to bring out the absolute worst in her and she wasn't quite ready to reveal the absolute worst of her just yet. 'After that, situation, I got back together with my ex-boyfriend which of course sent him reeling because apparently the great Basstered doesn't get dumped, so he just had to ruin my reputation and destroy my relationship. But then suddenly he's a reformed man and gives this romantic speech on how you don't give up in the face of true love and of course I fall for it like some soap opera watching bonbon eating housewife and then when he's about to whisk me away to Paris he abandons me at the airportin favour of a fling with an interior decorator of all people. An interior decorator! Can you get any tackier?' she huffed, her tiny hands balling into angry fists as all sorts of clever though useless little revenge schemes skipped through her mind.