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GossipGirl.Net
Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me.

Gossip Girl Here!
Welcome to Chicago's North Shore, where my friends and I live and go to school and play and sleep - sometimes with each other. We're smart, got the classic good looks, fantastic clothes, private rooms and private parties. Our shit still stinks but you can't smell it because the bathroom is sprayed hourly by the maid with a refreshing scent imported directly from France.

It's a luxe life, but someone has to live it.

Sightings.
B reigning over her kingdom on the steps of New Trier. P looking rather bored inside the Metro. M with JP, again. And a familiar, small, eerily beautiful brown eyed girl emerging from a Naperville line train in Union Station. Approximate age, seventeen. Could it be? N is back?!

The Girl Who Leaves For "Boarding School", Gets Kicked Out, And Comes
Back
Yes, N is back from boarding school. Her hair is longer, darker. Her brown eyes have that deep mysteriousness of best kept secrets. And while we are all dying to ask her why she got kicked out of boarding school, we won't, because we'd really rather she had stayed away. But N is definitely here.

Just to be safe, we should all synchronize our watches. If we aren't careful, N is going to win over our teachers, wear that dress we couldn't fit into, eat the last chocolate covered strawberry, have sex in our parent's beds, spill Jager on our rugs, steal our boyfriends' hearts, and basically ruin our lives and flat out piss us off.

I'll be watching closely. I'll be watching all of us. It's going to be a wild and wicked New Year. I can smell it.

You know you love me.
xoxo,
Gossip Girl

The train groaned a long at about a mile an hour as Natalie Kent's shiny head rested against the cold window. It was a strange kind of soothing, somewhat numbing every thought as it rushed through her head. She was eager to be back, yes, but in her world, the past is not so easily forgotten.

Crowds of Chicago's hoi aristoi shuffled and flashed their perfect teeth around the decorated dark mahogany ballroom. This year's Snowflake Ball was going just as it had been perfectly planned inside Brookelyn Hughes' gorgeous head. She had been given the honor to host and plan this year, following in the footsteps of some of Chicago's most regal socialites. The room looked amazing, like a glittering winter wonderland. She had spent the entire day in the elegant ballroom, decorating with the activities committee. They had draped the room with about ten miles of white, twinkling lights, even fixing them to the ceiling so that it looked like a dark sky filled with stars. All the overhead lights were turned off, and the room was suffused with a soft glow. White-clothed round tables were loaded with trays of delicious looking goodies--that Brooke had painstakingly chosen and arranged--from Alistair's Green House, the gourmet all organic caterer downtown. Dangling aqua and white star-burst shaped lanterns twinkled over the dance floor brimming with the rich of the rich.

Pure class.

Brooke had finished her first rounds of greeting the guests, taking special care with the Brown alumns, which left an impressed smile on their aged faces. Brown was secure. Nothing was stopping her now.

"I must say, Bravo," said a low voice in her ear and she whipped around to meet Peter Wentz's face just inches from her own.

"You look ravishing."

"You nauseate me. I don't know how Joe and Natalie put up with you."

"Speaking of, where is the best friend and the boyfriend?"

"Joe had to leave to catch a plane to Dubai with the Congressman. Natalie is...," she trailed off, immediately searching over the tops of heads for her best friend, me. She caught sight of a chocolate head in the corner with Talia and Crystal. She turned back to Pete with a satisfied smirk. "In the corner. Now if you'll excuse me I have a future to secure."

Brooke circled back to the cluster of Brown Alumns. "Oh, Miss Hughes!" They called, flagging her down.

"This is truly a spectacular production! Organization and execution or value highly regarded in the Brown community," praised Bethany Kephart, the Head of Admissions.

"Thank you so much, it truly is an honor..." Brooke trailed off for the second time that night as the elevator dinged and out stumbled a giggling Natalie Kent and the oversized Gabriel Saporta.

Here we go.

"BROOKIE!" Brooke winced as I threw my arms around my best friend, the stench of alcohol immediately filling her nostrils.

"Natalie, what are you doing?!" She asked, trying to stabilize the stumbling girl.

"I can see this is a private matter. We'll be in touch," Bethany said in a short manner and slunk into the elevator, only to be followed by the rest of the alumns.

"No, no this is just a huge misunderstanding," she pleaded, desperate to keep everything under control.

"Lighten up, B! It's a party!" Gabe laughed out obnoxiously, moving into the ballroom. I giggled in agreement.

"No Saporta, you're drunk." She pushed against his chest, but the drunken duo already had the attention of the entire room. Gabe tripped, flailed his long arms out, caught hold of the pine garland and brought it to the ground with a swift crash.

"Brooke! What is going on here?!" Brooke's mother, Rosemary, yelled coming into the foyer from the ballroom. Brooke bit back frustrated tears as she pushed us into the elevator.

"You got your moment Natalie. Just like you always do." I heard my best friend sigh out in a defeated tone as the elevator doors closed. I leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor as the machine took its sweet time delivering us to the lobby. I'd had done it again. It's not like I had meant to, I had just had gotten so...carried away. A large hand reached under my dropped head and I took the tiny pill sitting in the middle of it. I looked up to Gabe in appreciation.

"What are friends for, darling?"

I was standing by the time the elevator door opened again.

"Let's get fucked up."

The next morning I woke up with the hangover to top all hangovers. Eyes still closed, I blindly groped for the Advil and bottled water I had relied so much on for the past 5 years. But it wasn't there. Hell, there wasn't even a bedside table. I sat up quickly in confusion. Not my bed. Not my room. Not my clothes.

Oh shit.

I quickly and quietly picked up the scattered clothes off the floor, pausing only once to look back at a still sleeping Gabe before leaving again for the cold Chicago streets.

My heart was in the pit of my stomach. My head throbbed like a bitch. A weird hatred of myself boiled beneath my skin. I wanted to hate Gabe. Blame this all on him, but we all know you can't get me into a bed with someone I barely know sober. I knew Saporta. But I don't know him like I do Wentz. I winced, just thinking the name made my heart sink a little lower. I stopped outside the giant building that held my penthouse. I sucked up a breath. I knew Pete was up there. There's no reason for him not to be. I pushed through the double doors, smiling as best as I could at my doorman.

"Goodmorning, Steven," I greeted. Steve simply eyed me judgmentally, probably wondering why the fuck I didn't come home last night or maybe the fact that I looked like a mess.

"Goodmorning, Miss Kent," He quickly stopped the blatant staring once he'd noticed, and gave me a wide, genuine grin. Crow's feet and every other oddly comforting wrinkle showing. I strode my way past him, pressing a finger to the elevator button. The possibility of Pete not being here made my nerves relax only slightly.

"Ding." I trudged my way into the elevator, taking a long gulp of air. Tiny, quick flashes of last night sparked inside my memory once the golden elevator doors closed. Brooke specifically.

"Fuck! B..." I mumbled. From what I could remember, Gabe and I had ruined her time to shine. I had ruined her time to shine. The letdown of Chicago. The doors opened quicker than I'd ever remembered them opening.

I took cautious steps through my long wooden hallway, just in case Wentz was here. I stopped dead in my tracks when I reached the front room. Pete was fast asleep on one of the many cushiony chairs, still in the same slick suit he had been wearing last night. I bit my lip. His shut eyes had dark bruises beneath them, meaning he got close to no sleep last night. His dark hair was messy- even for him, and his lips we parted, breathing evenly and lightly through them. He looked... perfect. I placed the closest blanket over him, and began heading to my room. It could wait.

"Heyyy," I heard Pete croak from behind me. I turned around reluctantly, putting on a smile. The corners of his mouth were twitched upward. I wasn't sure if it were only my imagination, but his wide hazel eyes seemed larger than ever, making him look like an innocent puppy. Pete wrapped his warm arms around my waist, pulling me onto the nearby leather couch with a laugh. I squirmed, giggling involuntarily, but didn't quite resist.

"Why didn't you come home last night?" He asked, running his fingers through my hair. I winced, but he didn't catch it. I thought quickly.

"I stayed at B's for the night," I blurted, a little too quickly for my liking. It was the truth... To an extent.

"Oh," He sounded a little confused, but shrugged it off. My eyes wandered around the room, never meeting his for more then a few seconds. I knew he knew something was up. A loud buzzing noise interrupted our silence. Pete pulled put his blackberry from his pant pocket. He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound like he didn't just wake up.

"Hello?" He asked into the receiver. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay, man. I'll be there," He clicked the end button and quickly stood up.

"Joe wants to meet me for some coffee ," He said quickly, not being specific on the subject.

"I'm going to go home and change, see you later, babe," His lips pressed against mine lightly.

"And you need to tell me what's up when I get back," He whispered. Before I could argue, he hurried out the front door. I let out a groan, burying my face into a pillow. One lie wouldn't hurt. Besides, there's no way I'll be able to tell those hazel eyes that I slept with Gabe Saporta with a straight face.