Holding On To Hell

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“A little crazy. Something in the way, there’s something in the way that you move. Beaten and broken. Rolling in hell, rolling in the way that we know.” -Gin Wigmore, Holding On To Hell

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 “That’s it! Get out! Get out of my house!” Glass shattering, doors slamming, cries and screams echoing through the halls. Blair stood by the elevator doors with nothing in her hands but a red garnet ring on a silver chain. Her knuckles whitened as her grip grew tighter around it. She was shaking. Whether it was from fear or from anger, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she had to get out of there quickly.

The Waldorf Penthouse had been grim lately, to say the least. Waldorf Designs had been sinking deeper and deeper into debt, on the verge of bankruptcy. Eleanor had made many budget cuts in the past few months, none of which seemed to help the tiniest bit. She had even let Dorota go. Eleanor soon became irritable, inconsolable even.

Cyrus Rose had taken it upon himself to move out. “It’s only temporary,” he told Blair. “Your mother needs some time without me.” Blair’s heart ached seeing the pain in Cyrus’s eyes when he left that morning. He had put on a brave face for her, but she watched out the window as he left, knowing he was broken inside before she even saw proof. He had set his suitcase on the ground and fallen to his knees. She couldn’t hear it, but she knew he was sobbing. A heart broken and defeated sob, the kind that could thaw even Blair Waldorf’s icy heart.

That had been days ago. Blair had been quiet as a mouse around her mother, never daring to make a sound lest she set her off again. If there was one thing Eleanor Waldorf dealt with poorly, it was failure. And everyone around her received the brunt of her frustration.

But something had struck Blair the wrong way this morning. Blair hid from no one, not even Eleanor and that wouldn’t change now.. She did not live in fear. So she confronted her mother. About everything.

That had been a mistake. Amongst the more crude words Eleanor hurled at her daughter, “useless,” “ungrateful,” and “freeloading,”  seemed to stick. Blair screamed back, not backing down because of a few haphazardly thrown together insults. That’s when Eleanor had thrown the glass picture frame at her. It had narrowly missed and it shattered against the wall, but Blair had experienced the whole thing in slow motion.

As the frame flew past her face, she saw the images of herself, her mother, and Cyrus sitting by the fireplace at Christmas, Dorota handing out presents and smiling along with them. It had been an attempt at a “candid” Christmas photo, as Eleanor had said. A photographer had repositioned them about a thousand times before he’d settled on this “candid” pose.

And just as the picture frame shattered, so did the happy memories Blair associated with it. Every happy memory Blair had of her life had too many details fabricated for them to matter to her anymore.

Blair quickly ran down the stairs, stopping in her room only to grab her ring. It meant the world to her, as it was a gift from her father.

“Don’t take anything with you that I bought!” Eleanor screamed. “It’s not yours!” Blair cringed at her mother’s shrill voice. She clutched her ring tighter and stepped into the elevator as it arrived. It was silent now, as Eleanor had finally stopped screaming.

“I won’t come back,” Blair whispered into silence. And as the elevator doors closed, she thought she heard her mother sobbing.

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Life had changed for Blair Waldorf. She was no longer queen of Constance Billard, and her loyal group of friends had all moved on to their adult lives. Chuck Bass and Nate Archibald were touring the world, looking for business opportunities and “bro-ing it out.” They were very much out of touch for the next few months. Serena had gone to an ashram for a “spiritual cleanse” and was going to be off the grid for a good long while. Her minions weren’t even worth the call. They’d be more trouble than her current predicament.

Being that she had no home to go to, no friends to contact, and nothing to do but wander the streets, Blair found herself enamored when she came across a coffee shop. “There’s one on every corner in New York,” she mumbled. It was freezing outside but she felt warm as soon as she entered the little place.

Very hole-in-the-wall, and very much not her style, Blair had never felt more joy in a place before. She settled in a booth in the back corner and immediately stood back up.

“What the hell…?” she asked. She looked down and realized she had been sitting on a wallet. She looked inside and checked the ID, which showed the wallet belonged to a Carrie Harrison. Blair checked her surroundings, seeing no one that matched the photo on the ID.

What caught her eye was the fact that there were about 6 $100 bills in the wallet. It hit her immediately that she needed a phone, a place to live, new clothes, and food. And while $600 wouldn’t cover all of it, she knew that it was a start. Against her conscience and better judgement, Blair Waldorf pocketed the $600 and tossed the wallet in the lost and found.

As guilty as she felt, she did feel a little bit better knowing she had some money. Her first thought was to check local listings for apartments. Just because she was down, doesn’t mean she was out. A Waldorf knew how to rise above and persevere and Blair would do just that, despite her mother’s relapse into failure.

So Blair grabbed a newspaper and sat down in that little coffee shop, her entire life changed. She sat in the little back corner of the shop (which would become her usual place) and she scoured apartment listings.

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Hello my loves!

Assuming you’ve read my Second Chance post, you’ll know that I’m back, at least on a trial basis. I started my WordPress reputation with Blair and I intend to continue with her. Blair Waldorf is a character near and dear to my heart, and I do hope you enjoy reading her as much as I do writing her.

Kisses and Hugs.

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