Gossip Girl here--
your one and only source into the scandalous lives
of Manhattan's elite.
You were the one. I never wanna leave.
Oh, my God!
I'm sorry, but you lost the baby.
This is just the culmination of years of damage.
All right, so what do you wanna do?
I wanna take Gossip Girl down for good.
I'll do anything. Let him live.
I promise I'll keep my vow to marry Louis.
Chuck Bass is asking for you.
Blair, it's good to see you, and you, Dan.
Thank you, Father Smythe.
I swear to you, we are not having an affair.
Then what the hell are you doing?
He's having a relationship with me.
Blair got in the wrong car that night.
This says the car that crashed was the one ordered for me.
X.O.X.O. Gossip Girl.
And who am I?
That's a secret I'll never tell.
You know you love me.
X.O.X.O., Gossip Girl.
Hey, Upper East Sider, it's me, Gossip Girl.
I'm hoping you're interested in some quid pro quo,
because we both have something to prove.
You look like hell.
I assume this means you didn't find anything.
I've reread every piece in "The Spectator" since I started there,
and unless Christina Aguilera
is mad about our "Baby Bump or Mexican Lunch?" article,
I really don't think there's anything in here
worth hurting me over.
Gossip Girl didn't offer to help?
Yeah, but only if I help her, whatever that means.
Sometimes to get your needs met,
you need to choose an unsavory partner.
You know, that might work for you at 3:00 in the morning
in the lower east side, but it's Gossip Girl.
Okay? It's been pretty nice not having her record
our every move.
Maybe for you, but without her,
I have no idea what Blair's up to.
You still don't know why she won't talk to you?
Before the accident, she was ready to run away with me,
spend the rest of our lives together,
and now... she won't even take my call.
I have to know why.
So what's your next move?
If she won't give me my answer, I'll find it myself.
Now... if you'll excuse me,
Blair should be wrapping up her breakfast with Beatrice.
I have her doorman on retainer.
Be careful. There's a fine line
between surveillance and stalking.
Yeah, getting caught, which I don't plan on.
Now if you wanna catch someone, you know what to do.
I hope you don't mind the imposition.
Not at all. With Louis at his bachelor party in Monaco,
it's a comfort to have a Grimaldi by my side,
and your kindness while I recuperated
is very much appreciated.
I wish it wasn't something so sad that brought us together.
But now we get to focus on happier things,
like your wedding next week.
How can I help?
Well, you can get yourself to Vera Wang's
to try on your bridesmaid dress.
Really?
We all make mistakes,
but I would be happy to have you stand with me next Saturday.
I feel so honored.
So hustle to Vera's,
because my bachelorette party is tonight,
and you need to be free at 5:00.
A real American bachelorette party?
I've only seen those in movies.
Sorry to disappoint,
but this won't be it-girls gone wild.
Serena has planned an elegant and intimate party.
First, dinner at Le Charlot,
and then off to the Tiffany suite at St. Regis
for Kir Royales and Kiki de Montparnasse.
Even without the male strippers and a penis cake,
I cannot wait.
Wonderful. Now if you'll excuse me,
I don't wanna be late for Father Smythe.
This fake relationship is costing me a lot of money.
I know that Blair asked us to stay together
to keep Louis from getting suspicious,
but I mean, coffee in Brooklyn
is half the price and tastes better.
Well, haven't you learned
if you want the world to think you're doing something,
you have to do it on Madison Avenue?
And $8 cappuccinos are the price you pay.
What time do we have to be at "The Spectator"
to launch your daily column?
Uh, we're actually doing it outside my office.
Nate bought cab ads, and he thought it would be fun
for me to be photographed in one
just as my blog launches at 10:00.
Oh, that's pretty cool.
What did you end up writing about?
About how my relationships suffered
under the microscope of "Gossip Girl,"
and--and now with her gone, how they're flourishing.
Yeah, or fake flourishing.
And wow. Taking down Gossip Girl--
that's a pretty risky move.
Yeah, well, I wasn't sure
I wanted to take her on so directly,
but then Nate made a really good case,
and now I can't imagine having written about anything else.
Just so you know, you're kind of the focal point
of my first piece.
Well, as long as it helps your career and Blair's future,
I'm on board, and the publicity from your column
certainly didn't hurt.
Simon & Schuster moved up the meeting for my second book
to this afternoon.
Wow. See? A second book and my--my column launching.
Doesn't seem like fake anything to me.
Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.
I... pressed the "close" button on an elevator door
when I saw a woman running to catch it.
Why did you do that?
It was a long ride down to the lobby,
and she was wearing too much perfume.
Diddy called it "Unforgivable" for a reason.
Technically, that's not a sin, but okay.
What else, my child?
My dreams at night...
Yes, my child?
May not be about the man I'm going to marry.
Go on.
I love Louis. I do, but...
I fear the devil on my shoulder.
Which devil is that?
Chuck Bass, of course.
I know I need to honor my pact with God to protect him,
but... I'm growing weak.
I'm afraid I might break.
Father Smythe, you are the only one
you can keep me on the straight and narrow.
As long as Monaco must have a royal priest,
I want it to be you instead of that horrid Cavalia.
Cavalia isn't that bad, is he?
While I'm loath to discredit any man of the cloth,
he's the biggest snake in Christendom since the one that bit Eve.
To have you as my royal advisor
will mean that you can be with me at all times.
You'll find strength in prayer.
Five "Hail Marys" and a "Glory Be."
Thank you, father.
Today's "Spectator" is ready to be uploaded,
and the photographer's downstairs
to cover the debut of Serena's column.
All right. Just give me five minutes.
I need to do something first. Thank you.
"Spectator". May I help you?
Nathaniel.
Hey, Chuck. Can you hear me?
Why do I hear church bells?
Blair was inside a church for a half an hour.
Please tell me you didn't follow her inside.
Of course not. I didn't wanna risk blowing my cover
or bursting into flames.
What's going on?
Well, I just sent it to you.
Who is that?
It's Charlie Rhodes' ex, Max.
The one who tried blackmailing her?
Yeah, and this photo was taken the night of the accident.
Right? He's leaving the Empire with an envelope full of cash.
You think Gossip Girl knows more than she's saying?
Well, it wouldn't be the first time.
I'll have security pull footage from the night of the party,
see if there's something we missed.
Sounds good.
Is it true Blair plans to replace you
as soon as she's princess?
It is, but it doesn't matter,
because she's never going to become princess.
You will see to that.
Yeah, I don't know if our plan is going to work.
Blair's bachelorette party
seems like it's going to be a very staid affair.
Well, not if you're there.
And there will be liquor, no?
See that she drinks a lot of it.
You're not going back on me now, are you?
Beatrice, Blair is still in love with Chuck.
She just confessed it to me.
If we don't stop your brother's marriage,
I will lose my position in the royal court,
and you will lose me as well.
Is that really what you want?
What do you want me to do?
Help Louis to see the truth about Blair.
Get her drunk and alone with Chuck Bass.
Then we will show the world where her true heart lies.
Dad, Lily, what are you guys doing here?
Serena asked us to come.
I'm sorry. I was just so excited.
Of course. It's not every day you get to see your face
on a taxicab.
Serena, Lily, over here.
Oh, not yet. We're waiting for one of the cabs.
I wonder where Nate is. It's almost 10:00.
He would not miss this.
This is just as much his moment as it is mine.
I'm sure he'll be out in a minute.
Ah, there's one. Taxi!
10:00 on the button.
This is fabulous.
He let's see that column.
I'm on it. Here you go.
Serena, hold it up.
Yeah, right next to your face. That's great. Thanks.
Nice. Smile.
Ask questions.
But there's n-- it's just blank.
Serena?
Well, that's... that's weird.
Maybe there's a delay or something.
What's happening?
Everything okay?
I hope so.
Just put that up there in the corner
and make it color and see what I like.
"This page no longer exists"?
I had to postpone the launch. I'm sorry.
Well, I'm confused,
because this whole column was your idea,
so if you're rethinking it now, you need to let me know.
No, it's just not the right time.
Marketing said awareness was too low.
So maybe after the cabs make a few more laps
around the city.
You swear that's what this is about--a marketing strategy?
You'll be the first to know when I decide we're ready,
I promise.
Okay.
So you think I'm ready for the pitch?
'Cause I know some of my ideas
are a little on the esoteric side.
No, your-- no, your ideas are brilliant.
And obviously you light up every room that you walk into.
But... I sense there's a "but" coming.
Oh... you may not like what I'm gonna say.
It's a little... personal.
Is it my shirt? It's my shirt, right?
No. It's Serena.
Look, you're a brilliant writer with incredible creative range,
but I worry the publicity you two are getting right now
is distracting people from your real talent.
See, I want Simon & Schuster to see you
as the next Jennifer Egan or Chad Harbach.
And I worry that if they see you as Serena's boyfriend again...
They're-- They're just gonna want me
to write a sequel to "Inside" again.
I'm sorry. I--you know, I know it's not my place
to say anything.
No, but I'm glad you did,
because Serena's about to launch this new column,
uh, and the cover story is all about us,
so I need to call her and tell her not to right now. Hold on.
Hello?
Hey.
Listen, I got a question for you.
When your column launches,
do you think you could leave out, uh, the--the parts
that focus on our present-day relationship?
Why? What's going on?
Well, my agent seems to think that I'll have a better chance
of writing about something that isn't about the Upper East Side
if I'm not so connected to you in the press, uh, right now.
I know--I know that sounds kinda bad.
Yeah, it did. But don't worry about it.
My column has been put on hold indefinitely.
Oh, good. Oh, that's great. No, that's--that's...
Not good for you. I'm sorry about that.
No, it's--it's fine.
Look, if Nate ever does decide to run it,
I'll make sure all the references to you
are in the past.
Yeah, we can keep up appearances for Blair's sake.
I just think maybe no more Madison Avenue.
I'm sure your wallet will be happy to hear that.
Thank you, Serena. I really appreciate it.
Yeah. Bye.
Thanks for keeping me company.
Told Serena I wanted to hand-pick the macarons for tonight.
Besides, I wouldn't mind an orange blossom
to tide me over before dinner.
Of course. I love Laduree.
Although... I can go there anytime I like in Paris.
You can never have too many macarons.
You joke, but you might want to lick creme fraiche off a stripper
or take a pole dancing class while you still can.
What's the point in deviating from the royal path,
even for one night?
My life is what it is. Might as well get used to it now.
What are you doing here?
And don't say shopping for velour track pants.
You're following me.
I'm not going to leave until you tell me what changed,
why you turned your back on me, on us.
I told you everything there is to say.
Lurking in doorways won't help.
Sooner or later, you're going to crack.
You always do.
Whether it's at Le Charlot at 7:00
or doubles at 9:00
or the Tiffany suite at the St. Regis at 11:00.
Maybe it's a good idea to cut loose tonight after all,
far away from any place Chuck Bass can find me.
Absolutement. Leave everything to me.
Is Nate in?
Uh, he's down in graphics,
but he should be back up any second.
I just wanna talk to him about my column. I'll wait inside.
Okay, well, maybe you should...
Turns out Nate's gonna be longer than I thought--
Hey, wait. What are you doing?
Nate killed my column because Gossip Girl told him to.
You can't do that.
No? Watch me.
So, Dan, what are you thinking for book number two?
We're all ears.
Um, you know, there are a couple worlds I'm drawn to right now.
One of them is a modern Western.
Uh, but it's like a-- like a "Henry IV"
kind of structure or vibe,
so there's the Falstaff thing,
with all of your friends addicted to the drunken revelry
of the west, you know, so it's set on a cattle range
during reconstruction.
Smart, but I worry that, uh,
Westerns are a little played out.
How about something more modern?
Yes. He has another idea.
It's set in Manhattan.
Keep going.
Yeah. Um, it's basically,
like, a hundred years from today.
It's the future?
No, it's the near future.
Yeah, I mean, I know it's a risk...
Can I hit "pause"?
Your fans are crying out for a sequel to "Inside,"
and frankly, so is your publisher.
Yeah, I mean, I don't know who's interested
in hearing that story anymore.
Well, your girlfriend Serena's article about you two
went up less than an hour ago,
and there are already over a thousand comments.
Um... yeah. I mean, I was just--
I was really hoping to-- to stretch on this one.
Then take a yoga class.
That's good.
But, uh, write what you know.
And keep on dating Serena,
at least until the next book comes out.
It's great press.
You wanted to see me?
Yeah. You're fired.
Are you kidding?
You went behind my back and launched your column
when I told you we weren't ready.
Oh, we weren't, or Gossip Girl wasn't?
I saw her e-mail.
Look, I know that you've been secretly working for her
or for her. Either way, I don't care.
It means you're not just a liar but a hypocrite.
Did you even read the e-mail Gossip Girl sent?
Which one?
The last one, when she said my own cousin sabotaged my car.
Trip? You realize you're even crazier than Gossip Girl?
Well, her information seems pretty reliable.
She's got photos.
Oh, yeah, because no gossip site has ever faked a photo before.
She would do anything to save her reputation right now.
Nate, what's happened to you?
When did you stop being able to tell the difference
between your friends and your enemies?
Serena, wait.
No, you fired me. I don't have to listen to you.
And you know what?
Honestly, someone should probably tell Trip
that his own cousin is trying to frame him
for a crime he didn't commit.
Okay, so we shall have plenty of alcohol
and many phallic party favors.
Really, the most important thing is that we steer clear
of anyplace that Chuck Bass m--
Chuck Bass might find you? I understand.
We're going to have so much fun.
I even got a few party games
I saw girls play on channel VH1.
Oddly... it sounds perfect.
It will be a night you will never forget.
There was really no need to come up.
I told the front desk we're just fine with our Gideons.
I'm not here to sell you anything.
God's advice is free.
Father Cavalia of Monaco.
The Grimaldis' spiritual flack.
What could you possibly want with me?
I received a call from princess Beatrice this morning.
She's concerned about her brother's pending marriage
to Blair Waldorf.
And you think I might be the answer to her prayers?
Perhaps.
I know that you're on your way to the St. Regis
to interrupt Ms. Waldorf's bachelorette party,
so I thought you would like to know
that the party's been moved.
What happened to "Thou shalt not steal"?
This is not the time to be cavalier, Mr. Bass.
The woman you love is about to marry another man--
I am quite aware,
and thank you for your sympathies,
but tell me, father, what is your angle?
This is what is known as divine intervention,
monsieur Bass.
I'd accept it if I were you.
I'd have to speak with Blair in private.
I'm not sure even you could perform that miracle alone.
Who said I'm working alone?
After all, I've got a higher power by my side.
Let's go.
Whoo!
I have never been so happy to be surrounded
by so many bridge and tunnel types.
You should have worn an actual tiara.
Are you kidding?
Someone would have fist-pumped it off her head.
Ooh. Shots now.
So... who's ready for the first party game?
I am.
Beatrice came up with a great plan--
match the ex with the act.
Remember how we made you write down
all the secret, scandalous acts your exes committed?
Well, Beatrice now holds the questions and the answers
and will read each one aloud.
If no one can name the right ex...
We all take a shot,
but if we guess correctly, you take a shot.
Well, I hope you ladies have the urge to purge,
because those secrets not even Serena knows.
Wait. Where is Serena?
Oh, my God. I forgot to call her
with the change in plans.
Oh, let me call her now.
Hey, B., I'm on my way.
No, no, no, there's a change in location.
We're at Panchito's.
I'm sorry. My phone must be messed up.
I thought you said you were at Panchito's.
Yeah, Beatrice forgot to call and tell you.
Beatrice doesn't seem like the kind of girl
who forgets anything.
She's changed. I promise.
But what are we doing even talking about this?
Get in a cab immediately.
No, I'm still at the apartment.
I have to finish something,
but, um, I'll be there soon.
I promise, and please don't drink
too many frozen margaritas before I get there. Bye.
Everybody's waiting. Let's start drinking.
Hey, Trip, I'm glad you decided to come.
Well, thanks for calling.
I saw your fight with Nate on "Gossip Girl."
I know you have no reason to take my side in anything,
but I really appreciate you standing up for me in this.
I'm not doing this for you.
I'm doing it because it's the right thing.
I-I just--I don't know what Nate was thinking.
Next question--"What is Lord Marcus' favorite song?"
Ooh, ooh, I know. "Where do broken hearts go?"
How did you know that?
Lucky guess!
There have been a lot of lucky guesses tonight.
Okay. Question number four--
"Who once wore Blair's underwear
to dinner at Picholine?"
Oh, oh, oh. Bottoms up, ladies.
No one knows the answer to that one.
I never told a single soul about that.
I don't think I even wrote it in my diary.
Carter Baizen.
Correct. Blair drinks.
This game is kicking my ass.
Shake that.
Drink, drink, drink, drink.
No!
Aah!
Oh, get it!
What's so funny?
Serena's column.
I gotta hand it to her. It's great.
And I'm not the only one that thinks so.
Yeah, I know.
The whole city's reading it.
Over a thousand comments.
Is that a bad thing?
Well, for me, kind of.
I had my, uh, my pitch meeting this afternoon with my editor,
and now that Serena and I are--are back on,
he's completely focused on me writing a sequel to "Inside."
That's great. You guys are the new hot couple.
You should enjoy it.
But we're not dating.
We're just faking it to protect Blair's engagement.
Okay. I'm not even gonna ask you to fill me in.
Instead, I'm just gonna assume
there's a long royal explanation.
You know me well, and Blair, but the point is
as long as it seems like Serena and I are together,
my editor's not gonna let me write a second novel
I'd actually care about.
Well, sacrificing your career for the people you love,
I understand.
But sacrificing it for fake love, I...
I think it's counterintuitive.
Yeah, which is why I have to find Serena.
Have you seen her?
Tonight's Blair's bachelorette party.
I'm sure she's there.
Well, I've already crashed her bridal shower.
I'm sure it won't matter if I barge in
on another pre-wedding event.
Oh, tell Serena I'm a fan.
Now since I'm... not sober...
I'm gonna tell you what I really think about tonight.
I'm having the best time.
Ohh, I'm so glad.
But I had my doubts about you.
You are almost as scheme-y as me.
But we are cut from the same cloth--
overbearing mother, absent father,
the weight of a thousand expectations.
You're right.
I always am.
Can I ask you a question?
Anything.
Why are you marrying my brother
when I know you're not in love with him?
I do love him.
There might be some loves that seem...
bigger than others or more complicated or...
harder to let go of.
But there's a reason they're not meant to be.
You cannot choose who you love.
But you can choose how you love them.
And there are some people you can only love
by not being with them.
Okay, I'll get you some water.
You need to sober up.
Oh, you're so nice... and so pretty.
I don't understand.
How could Nate ever believe I'd wanna hurt him?
He's the closest thing I have to a brother.
No, I know, but you know,
Nate's not the kid that you grew up with. He's changed.
Yeah. Well, so have I.
And I'm not gonna sit here and let him try to frame me
for a crime I didn't commit.
Well, then we need to kill the story
before he goes public with it.
How? There's no way I can prove I didn't do it.
I know, but maybe we can find out who really did do it.
I mean, come on. Is there anyone that you can think of
that would wanna hurt Nate?
I don't even wanna say this out loud, Serena.
But all the way here, I was replaying it in my mind.
Replaying what?
The night of the accident.
I heard Maureen call a car to take her to the Empire.
If I had known--
Wait, wait. Maureen?
Are you surprised?
I mean, after all, all she's ever cared about
was my career, how my success reflected on her.
When she saw grandfather pass me over for Nate,
she decided to protect the thing that mattered to her most.
I think we've heard enough.
Thank you, Nate.
Oh, don't thank me. Thank Serena. It was her idea.
What the hell's going on?
Well, we knew you wouldn't admit to anything,
so Serena and I staged that little argument
on "Gossip Girl."
We figured you'd try to pin the accident on someone else
just like you did two years ago
when you left Serena in that car.
Did you really think I'd talk to you again,
never mind take your side against Nate's?
You're really gonna try to pin this on Maureen?
Oh, I'm not pinning anything. It was Maureen.
Why don't we go ask her ourselves?
We don't have to. She has an airtight alibi.
How do you know?
Because on the night of the accident,
she was with me, consulting with a divorce lawyer.
And as soon as she hears about this,
she's definitely gonna be through with you.
I have to say, an unexpected choice.
I'll get Blair.
Why don't you wait in the car?
I certainly hope you know what you're doing.
A priest in a bar? Kinky.
You have no idea.
Let's go this way. Now tell Beatrice I need air.
I'll be back in a minute.
Whoo. Whew.
Hey, bridey, got a match?
Two. And that's the problem.
All right, well, hold this while I go find one.
Ooh. Don't mind if I do.
Ooh, the strippers are here!
Ooh. Whoo, whoo!
Excuse me, miss. Is that a joint in your mouth?
Well, hello, officer...
Weiner. Why, yes, it is. Do you want some?
Okay.
Oh, you're no fun. Where did Beatrice find you?
No, shh.
Just cut all small talk.
Let's find out if you really are New York's finest--
Oh! Is that a real gun?
Okay.
Ow! What are you doing?
Is this part of the act?
Hey, excuse me, officers, we--
Back off, kid.
Okay.
No. No, no, no.
D-don't you know who I am?
I'm going to be the princess of Monaco!
Yeah? And I'm the king of the 6th precinct.
I love you, New York!
Of course you'd be behind this.
Hey, where's Blair?
I'm just finishing the paperwork.
You royal bitch! You paid that girl to give me a joint
and tipped off the police that I was outside with it
because you wanted to humiliate me
in the eyes of the world.
What's next? Photoshopped nude pics?
A dead body in my bed?
Ooh, hey, she's-- she's just making a point.
Blair, this was not Beatrice's fault.
- It was Chuck's. - Chuck's?
I shook his tail with a decoy plan.
He's staking out a suite at the St. Regis as we speak.
No, I saw him there with my own eyes.
Ma belle-soeur, may we speak privately?
Go ahead. I'll wait for your things.
How you doing?
Start at the beginning.
And don't leave anything out.
The day of the accident, I met Max.
He followed you from Nate's office
and offered to help me in exchange for money.
We'd just had that argument
about the weekend, Nate taking my place.
I was so angry, and so I paid him to drain
the brake fluid from the car--
Half before and the rest when it was done.
So that explains Gossip Girl's photo of Max at the Empire.
I met him outside the garage to give him the rest of the money.
He said he'd done it, and he took off,
but when I double-checked, it turns out that he played me.
He took the money, and he ran.
So you did it yourself.
Look, I never meant for anything to happen to Blair.
Yeah, but you wouldn't have cared
if I ended up in a wheelchair or worse?
I never thought it would get that bad.
I thought you'd--I don't know-- hit a parked car,
get thrown around, get banged up.
I wanted to ruin your weekend, not your life.
And I know what you think of me after what I did to Serena.
But when I saw you rising up at "The Spectator"...
Well, we both know there's only a certain amount
of grandfather's love to go around.
He chose you.
And so I did the only thing I knew how to.
That's it? That's your answer? What, not enough love?
I raised you to stand on your own two feet.
No. You raised me to kneel before yours.
And now my life is over.
And that's exactly what you deserve.
Two years ago, you and I were the ones in the accident,
and you left me hurt and alone, and you got off scot-free.
But that's not what's gonna happen this time.
This time, you are gonna pay for what you did.
And I'm gonna see to it.
Oh, Blair's been arrested.
Go. We've got it covered.
So you're telling me that when my face
is on "Page Six" tomorrow,
I have nobody to blame but myself?
Yes, but don't be so sure about the story getting out.
Where did you get those?
I bought them off everyone outside the bar.
Did you get all of them?
If anyone talks, it'll be just a rumor. No proof.
Oh, I've never been so happy
for the demise of "Gossip Girl."
But now... one last thing.
Oh.
Voila.
Trip's in the car. Says he wants to tell the police himself.
I'm gonna take him down there now.
Good.
I wanna thank you, Nathaniel,
for the way you handled things tonight,
and for never believing that I could have had anything to do
with this heinous crime.
Well, I'm glad your conscience is clear.
Wh-what is that supposed to mean?
You can't possibly blame me for what happened.
You've pitted us against each other our entire lives.
Everything is a competition, and the prize is your approval.
It's the great Van Der Bilt tradition.
Well, I'm sorry that you feel that way about your own family.
And might I remind you that Diana Payne
would never have given you that job at "The Spectator"
if I hadn't paid her to?
You really think you can make it on your own?
I don't know.
But it's the only way it'll mean anything.
I've set up some meetings with investors.
I'll be making you an offer.
Hey, where is she? What happened?
Oh, she's fine. They're not pressing charges.
Oh, thank God. You would not believe what I just came from.
Look, Serena, while we're alone,
there's something I need to say to you.
Are you... fake-breaking up with me?
You know how guys say, "It's not you. It's me"?
Well, in this case, it's--it's my book.
Well, don't worry. You haven't hurt my fake feelings.
I would never wanna get in the way of your career.
There you are!
Ohh! Is everything okay?
Were you worried about little ol' me?
B., you smell like a distillery.
I had shots. They were fun!
The first ten, anyway.
Oh, well, I'm sorry I missed the excitement.
Oh, I had someone to watch over me.
I'm sorry.
She's so nice.
Where's Blair?
With me.
Can you get her to Chuck's hotel?
No. The plan is finished.
It's over.
And so are we.
Beatrice, wait.
I don't want to play these games to hurt people.
I only want you,
but you're never going to leave the church for me.
We both know it.
I'm just the only one brave enough to say it out loud.
Hey.
Hey. I wanted you to know
Blair made it home safely.
I just tucked her in, and she is out like a light.
No surprise there.
I never thought I'd see the day
when Blair Waldorf ate a tequila worm.
Yeah, I never thought I would read something
written by Serena Van Der Woodsen
that made me laugh out loud, and even more pressi--
There were no witnesses,
so I will deny it if asked publicly, but, uh,
there may have been a lump in my throat.
Really? A lump?
Don't gloat, but seriously, I mean, it's--
it's surprisingly real for something supposedly fake.
Well, not all fake.
No, I know. We--we dated for years,
so of course there's history there.
Yeah. But...
But what?
It... I don't... just...
Whatever. Have a good night, okay?
No, what is it? Tell me.
We're Dan and Serena. You can tell me anything.
It must be true, 'cause I read that online.
I-I have to go. Bye.
Chuck, you need to leave now.
I don't know what it is you think I did tonight,
but all I care about is her.
Blair's asleep, okay?
And even if she wasn't, she--
she wouldn't wanna see you anyway.
Tell her I came by...
And that I'm not done.
That's one thing I learned from Blair.
You don't give up on the people you love.
Rise and shine, jailbird.
I made you French press.
Oh, no, no, please, please. I beg you, no light.
Here. You want your coffee?
Uh, stop spinning.
What are those?
Louis' wedding vows.
I found them
hidden in my desk last night, and I was drunk enough
to allow myself a minor ethical transgression.
Blair!
Okay, how were they?
It's like he peered into my soul.
I know Louis loves me, but sometimes
I wonder if he understands me.
But reading this
is exactly what I needed to go into our wedding
sure of my choice.
Mm. Can I be a little jealous?
You may.
I-I can't wait for you to hear them on Saturday,
and you don't have to
keep up the charade with Humphrey for me any longer.
Louis and I are in a good place now.
Yeah, well, I'm glad everything worked out like it should have.
I'm gonna go into the office now,
take down my column. It'll help Dan.
You ready?
Ready for what?
No!
Miss me, Upper East Siders?
Have you been asking yourselves if you're better off now
than you were two months ago?
You've made a grave mistake, Beatrice.
You forget I still have your mother's ear.
And she had no trouble believing
you were still trying to ruin your brother's wedding.
So when I suggested you might benefit
from some missionary work in East Africa, she agreed.
I'll tell my mother we slept together. You'll be defrocked.
And whose word do you think she'll accept?
Her scheming daughter or her loyal, loving priest?
You might be able to get rid of me,
but you won't be able to stop the wedding.
Which is why I have found someone far better equipped
to assist me in my cause.
That's probably your mother now.
Bon voyage.
Hey.
Hey, can you meet for lunch?
Well, I'm kind of on a roll here. What's up?
Uh, well, I actually talked to Blair this morning,
and she wants us to stay together until the wedding,
just so Louis doesn't suspect anything.
Would you hate that?
Uh...
I mean, no. No, that's fine,
but only until the wedding, right?
Yeah. Yeah, no, of course.
You know, um, but we should probably still go out
to keep appearances up.
Uh, sure. Coffee?
I don't know. I was thinking, you know, dinner could be better
or--or maybe a movie?
Yeah, that's fine by me. I'll call you later.
Trapped under the weight of a false accusation,
I've done a lot of thinking
about the kind of girl I want to be from now on.
I'd like to be the kind...
Who does what she says she's going to do.
Thank you.
Mr. Bass, welcome.
Right on time.
I have no interest in niceties. Just tell me what you know.
I know what is in Blair Waldorf's heart,
and if you don't want this wedding to happen,
together, we can make sure it doesn't.
She already thinks I'm a villain.
I may as well become one.
You know what they say-- talk is cheap.
So if you don't have anything nice to say,
maybe you should just shut your mouth.
X.O.X.O. Gossip Girl.
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