Jailbird was the headband...

Jailbird was the headband…

If there was a notion Blair Waldorf had made her own since she was a child, that is that a day is only 24 hours long.
Then why did that day never seem to end?
Not to mention that it was even her birthday.

But she seemed to be the only one to recall this extremely important annual event.
To everyone else that was Eleanor’s and Cyrus’ wedding.
A.K.A her mother and her new not so appealing partner.

Not only they had plans of taking her bedroom for the new incoming baby Eleanor was expecting; with the excuse that Blair would have been away, studying at Yale - if only she hadn't performed the worst possible interview ever- .
They had also stolen her day.
There are 365 days in a year, even one more in the leap one.
Then why did they have to pick just her birthday?
She had tried to cry on Nate's shoulder, but he had dodged her in every possible way.
The same Nate Archibald who was sitting at another table, behind hers, but not hers.
The same Nate who barely recalled her birthday.
The same Nate who hadn’t even given her a present.
The same Nate who had just rejected her umpteenth attempt to get closer to him.

- Is he still my boyfriend? I don’t even know. - She wondered as she gulped down her second flute of champagne.

Or maybe it was the third.
And on an empty stomach, nonetheless.
She couldn't do otherwise, if the only available thing on her plate was an awful quenelle that tasted like cat food.

- I should stuff my pocket with it and bring it to Kitty Minky, at least he would appreciate it. - She contemplated.

She got up from the table for a very simple reason.
The few quenelle she had dared to eat cried vengeance.

After throwing up in the women's bathroom and rinsing out her mouth repeatedly, Blair decided to stop for a while at the Hotel Bar, ordering some more Champagne.

She really needed alcohol to face that endless day.
Especially after what she had seen.
Or rather who she had seen with whom.

She could have rushed there and caused a scene; she would have had every right to do so, after all.
Instead she decided to pretend she hadn’t seen anything, walking outside to take some fresh air.

But not before coming back to the bathroom, once more.
What she had seen had made her stomach turn, again.
After brushing her teeth, she stared at herself in the mirror.
Contrary to her mother’s unfair opinion, that Chloé long dark brown slick dress with thin straps fitted her to a T.
And the black headband with laces and some strass was just the final touch of timeless elegance.

She felt really beautiful and this pissed her off even more.

- Nate, how could you prefer her to me? What are your reasons? Well, save for the E cup bra reasons… - Blair snorted, frustrated.

She braced herself, ready to go outside to enjoy a more than deserved cigarette. 

                                                                                                  *

Dan Humphrey was born to feel out of place, constantly.

But never like that day.
He felt out of place, in that rented tuxedo, those elegant trousers were itching his skinny  legs.
He felt out of place with his hair slicked back.
So impossibly tidy.

- This is just so not me! Oh c’mon,  all artists are well known for being scruffy and messy. Especially poets. I seriously doubt that Baudelaire has ever worn a stupid tuxedo! - He muttered in his mind as he nervously rubbed his hands against his trousers, cursing himself each passing second for having accepted that invitation.

At an important Upper East Side wedding at St. Claire Hotel, where he practically knew no one.

He felt out of  place, sitting at that table where probably the most familiar face was Chuck Bass, only because they had shared some English lessons during second grade.
But Chuck was too busy hugging two girls at once to pay any more attention to him, after mocking Dan about his role there.
Not that Dan wanted any more attention from him, of course.
He just would have liked to find a purpose for being among perfect strangers.

For sure he didn’t know - he only believed he did-  who invited him there, who was supposed to be his date.
Who was supposed to be his eternal love.

Serena Van Der Woodsen.

He had been a fool thinking that that kiss could have been the beginning of something important.
He wasn’t stupid, he had noticed how many times she had tried not to be alone with him.

He had seen the very short moments she forced herself to pay attention to him.
Not to mention what she had just said about his poem.
About him.

- I can sit close to her, I could even touch her hand, as I almost tried to do not long before; but she couldn’t be any more distant anyway. Unreachable. -

He got up from his chair and left the table, certain that Serena wouldn’t have even noticed that and he was right.

Sure, she had even asked him if he wanted to dance, but he knew she didn’t really mean it.

He walked until he reached the Hotel bar and ordered a double scotch on the rocks.

- An intense guy like me deserves to intensely get drunk!- He brooded, letting the alcohol burn his throat.
 

Someone else had already destroyed his heart, mercilessly.

As he drank faster than he should, Dan noticed something that almost made him choke.
He could have started a riot but he changed his mind, for two reasons: first, he wasn’t sober enough to punch up with a lacrosse player; second, on second thought, Jenny didn’t exactly look like someone who needed to be saved.

That’s why he finished his drink, ordered a second, identical one and once he was done he resorted to the rest of his lucidity to walk outside.

He needed some time alone with his two best friends: Nico&Tine.

Only when he held his Camel between his lips and lit it Dan felt that life made sense again.
At his second cigarette, he even bothered enough to take a look around.
The St. Claire Hotel garden was beautiful, full of plants he ignored but admired anyway.
What he liked even more was the quiet.
 

All of the guests were still in the restaurant.
All, except for one.

A young, undeniable pretty brunette who was smoking. very gracefully, something he had recognized even from a distance.

-A Merit Ultra Lights? Tsk, dear my rookie, you have no idea what real smoke is!-

There was something else he had noticed about her.

Too bad that Dan was not drunk enough to slur, but enough to utterly stop filtering his thoughts.

“That headband is just so stupid!” He grumbled in her direction.

Blair immediately turned to him.

“I beg your pardon?” She hissed, as her deep blue eyes dug into his large dark orbs.

“How dare you?” She went on, as she stepped closer to him. “As if my day wasn’t already awful enough!”

“I hardly doubt it can compete with mine. I’m trapped here, so far away from my comfort zone, surrounded by strangers who keep talking about stuff I couldn't care less about. Lured in by a blonde goddess, only to find out she just played with my heart as if it was her fidget toy. Never trust someone who changes guys as fast as she changes Kleenex!” He vented.

Blair narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, wait… I guess I caught some glimpse of you before… You are at Serena’s same table. You’re Serena’s date!”

“I was.” Dan sighed. “So, do you know Serena?”

“She’s my best friend! When I’m not too busy hating her… that’s it.” She grumbled. “However, your bad day just pales compared to mine: my mother got married to such a ugly man, and they didn’t even invite my gay dad here. And it wasn’t enough. They are already stealing my bedroom to make room for the incoming baby; they even stole my day, getting married on my birthday!” She whined.

“Oh, that sucks. Well, happy birthday.” Dan murmured, scratching his nape.

“Thanks.” She shrugged. “And, to top it off, I’ve just caught my now former boyfriend betraying me with a big-boobies skank!”

“A.K.A. my little sister.” Dan pointed out.

“Oh!”

She sounded apologetic, surprised and pissed off at the same time.

“Dan Humphrey, by the way.” He reached out. “And since you’re Eleanor’s daughter, you must be…”

“Blair- No-Fucking-Way-I’m-Picking-The-Rose-Name- Waldorf!” She shook his hand.

“Well, nice to meet you, Blair Waldorf, but this doesn’t change the fact that your headband is very stupid, but I guess we can do something about it.” He suggested, their hands still shaking.

She abruptly retrieved her hand.

“Such as?” She found herself asking him.

“Either you take it off… or you pay the toll, kissing me.” Dan challenged her, both with words and his gaze.

Alcohol made Dan so much less disinhibited.

Blair kept silent for a while, considering the matter.

A little bit upset, Dan saw Blair about to take her headband off, but she didn’t.

“You know what? I happen to like my headband a lot and you’re gorgeous enough to get a kiss from me.” She confessed.

Not that she needed alcohol, Blair was always without filters.

“What?” Dan frowned.

“What?” She echoed, pretending she hadn’t said anything.

“You know, I expected you would be more likely to push me in the fountain, rather than accept that.” He chuckled nervously.

“Then make you move, Dan Humphrey, before I change my mind and push you in the fountain!”

No sooner said than done.

Dan bent over her, skimming her lips with his finger at first and then placed his lips on hers and waited.

Blair parted her lips, a clear invitation for Dan to go on.

A few seconds after they were kissing as if they had done nothing else before.

To Blair, Dan tasted like smoke, scotch and change.
 

To Dan, Blair tasted like smoke, mint toothpaste and reward.

Their eyes were closed, as he held her by her shoulders and she slowly caressed his face.

They both seemed to have forgotten that they were in the middle of a wedding reception.
They didn’t care if someone could see them.

And someone did.

Someone who had came there along with Jenny, unusually elegantly dressed for the occasion.
Someone who was full of expectations that had just been crushed like cigarette ashes.
Those cigarettes they had smoked, before kissing.

Vanessa Abrams ran away in tears, wishing she had never set foot there.

After what seemed to be an eternity - but maybe were only a bunch of minutes- Dan and Blair parted.

“Well, I guess that now I can go home a lot happier.” He awkwardly smiled at her, on his way to reach the exit.

“Oh. Are you already leaving?” She almost pouted.

“I lost my date at this wedding, so…”

“And I lost my fiancé. Sooner than today, I guess.” She muttered. “And I can’t face all of this alone. So, what about making this a win-win situation?” 

Dan smiled, walked closer to her and took her headband off.

“Hey, you cheater! I’ve paid the toll!” She protested, glaring at him.

“I know, but I needed to do this, without that scratchy thing getting in the way.” He justified, passing a hand through her soft, dark waves, almost with reverence.

“Oh.” She stared at him surprised, enjoying his touch.

“I’ll tell you what.” He said, handing the headband back to her. “We’re going back to the reception and I’ll stay; but I guess it would be a tad too crowded and showy as a first date.” He winked at her.

“Uhm, I guess you’re right. It would be too much to handle right now…” She chewed on her long-lasting dark red lipstick.

“But I insist on having at least one dance with you. And a toast.” He made her smile.

He walked towards a table outside and drew from his pocket a pen and a clean paper napkin.

“What are you doing?” Blair frowned as she saw him writing something.

“Well, you said it’s your birthday. You should have a present.” He winked at her, handing her the folded napkin.

She opened it and read:

‘Can I be your cigarette?

Light me, with your gentle touch.
Consume me, until nothing has left.
Stomp my soul, with  your stiletto heel.
Dying has never felt so sweet.

D.H.’

“Woah. Is it really for me? Are you a poet, by any chance?” She asked, really impressed.

“Yes, I am. And considering that before meeting you, all I managed to do in the bar was to draw a big black X, you’re more inspiring than you imagine, Blair Waldorf.” He smirked.

“You managed to capture my essence in so few but meaningful words.” She stared at the napkin in awe, then at him.

“It’s my talent.” Dan shrugged. “Well, if you don’t consider it also a talent to have six dark coffees before lunch!”

“Really?” She laughed.

“You don’t really wanna know.” He laughed as well, before turning serious. “So, did you really like the poem? Don’t you find it… huh… too intense?”

He really hated that word.

“Nope. I find it direct and sharp. And I like the sharpness.” She winked at him.

Blair went back to the reception hall, followed shortly after by Dan, not to give anyone the impression that they had walked back together.

But someone had glanced at the whole scene through a window.

- Way to go, Humphrey. So you’re not good just with the writing. - Chuck sneered.

For the rest of the wedding party Blair and Dan acted with nonchalance.

She ignored the fact that Nate had even had the guts to invite Jenny at his table, with such indecency.

- One more reason to never ever want you by my side again, Nate!-

And Dan ignored every attempt from Serena to get in touch with him again and fix things.

- I’m not so stupid to throw my heart in your emotional blender a second time, Serena!-

After the cutting of the cake, shortly before midnight, the band started playing jazz music, much to Cyrus’s personal request.

It wasn’t anymore time to break it down on the dance floor, it was time to slowly swing and get closer.

A perfect time for Dan and Blair.

No one would have asked any questions, at wedding parties everyone danced with everyone.

That’s why after dancing with a guy she barely knew, Blair felt someone gently poking her shoulder and she turned.

“May I have this dance?” Dan smiled at her.

It goes without saying that she accepted.

As they danced slowly, pressed together, Blair brought her mouth to his ear.

“You’re free to have your six dark coffees or more, I guess I’ll stick to two at the utmost, but … What about breakfast together, tomorrow, far from anyone who is here now?”

Dan chuckled, before mirroring her way to answer.

“I agree more than willingly, but only if you show up with another of your stupid headbands!”

--

THE END