i want it all - gg

𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙤𝙘𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙮

Blair Waldorf straightened the bow tie on her son's Ralph Lauren tuxedo and smiled up at him with pride.

"I don't want a repeat of last Cotillion, H," she said, tweaking his hair. "I had to beg St Jude's not to expel you."

Henry nodded. When he was sixteen, he'd escorted Imogen L'Wren, the then headmaster's pride and joy of a daughter, and the two of them had been caught making out and drinking a stolen bottle of Möet on the roof.

I'm glad to see the new generation Bass' are just as infatuated with roofs as their father was.

"Good," Blair smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek.

xoxo

In the next room, Hadley slipped a gold Bulgari bracelet with Onyx disks onto her thin wrist. She always wore the same ring, a small ruby Harry Winston that her mother had given her when she turned thirteen, a ring Blair had worn herself most of her life.

Everything was perfect. The dress, the jewellery, her hair, her makeup, her date, but Hadley felt so wrong. She felt like she was going to throw up, but stayed very still.

"Have you decided what shoes to wear?" Blair asked, peeping around the door.

Hadley sighed. She really did not need her mother's constant criticism right now. "No."

"Good," Blair said, coming in and shutting the door behind her. She had a box in her hands and a playful smile on her lips. "These just arrived from France. Grandpa sent them for you to wear tonight."

Having a gay, immaculately dressed grandfather can be very, very rewarding.

Hadley's eyes lit up. New shoes would turn her mood any time. She took the box and sat down, unwrapping it greedily. Manolo Blahnik was imprinted in gold on the top of the box, and Hadley's heard did a gymnastics routine.

"Oh," She said breathlessly as she lifted the lid. Inside the box was a pair of the most elegant black satin almond toe pumps with an Swarovski-crystal-embellished buckle on the front. Hadley lifted them up and gasped, almost reduced to tears. "Wow."

Blair smiled knowingly. "Now put them on, Felix will be here soon."

Delilah stepped out onto the landing in her blue Zac Posen Liberty print silk slip gown. She looked really good, and had ditched the childish pigtails for a grown-up low knot. She looked sophisticated and elegant, but inside she was a nervous wreck. Sal was supposed to be arriving in five minutes, and she couldn't stop sweating.

xoxo

Even though Henry had already seen Scarlett in her Cotillion dress, the second time hit as hard. She floated out of the elevator like a swan, pulling a satin Burberry bomber jacket over her bare shoulders. Her tousled blonde hair was tied in an unkempt ponytail that looked both effortless and stunningly stylish, and her mismatched dress and jacket made her look like she'd just rolled out of bed looking gorgeous.

Which, of course, she never fails to do.

Henry's mind crept away from Scarlett for a moment, and imagined Camille coming out of that elevator. She'd have held a finger-pistol to his head and pretended to be a Bond girl or attacked him by planting red lipstick kisses all over his face.

Casting her face out of his mind had been much harder than he thought it would be, but he managed to turn his attention back to a grinning Scarlett. Things were nice and simple with her. He didn't have to worry about if he was a good enough boyfriend, because he wasn't her boyfriend. No strings, the perfect setup.