Currently neither smacked or drowning, sadly enough, we find Vanessa Abrams, bothering Dan Humphrey as usual in his palatial DUMBO loft. She's got her goddamned video camera trained on him and she's talking some bullshit about how he's so fascinating with his "exotic meal of Cheerios on an exciting Saturday night in." She begs him to be interesting. I don't have to tell you that this is one of those planets-aligned moments where I'm like, "Word, Vanessa Abrams. Don't go fuck yourself for a sec." "You don't want me to move back to Vermont, do you?" YES. If by "Vermont" you mean "hell," then by all means, let me bore you. Dan says somewhat wearily -- in his Target-sponsored club-dude shirt -- that if her "whole future depends on getting this grant" for her documentary, then she should find a new subject. AND a new line of work. She puts him off, talking about how it's this eternal story where "the outsider goes inside" -- GG-esque turn of phrase there, Abrams -- because it's "a likable everyman's pursuit" (I'll point out that one word of that phrase is factually true) "of his dream girl begins his descent into the bowels of Hell. This is mythic stuff!" Mythically boring. It's fucking Dan Humphrey. That movie is ten minutes long and it goes, "I am better than this whole situation I'm not invited to!" And the person's like, "Can you be happy or cool for like five seconds?" And he's like, "Not until socialism!" And they go, "Okay, then, whatever, kid. Have you read Catcher In The Rye? Because don't. Ever."
Rufus sits in his sad little cave of sadness playing three sad chords over and over in a desperately sad song of sadness, and even Vanessa is like, "Whatever movie he's scoring sounds depressing." ("...Unless it has subtitles, and then it's motherfucking on.") Dan pronounces it a "biopic," and I don't think I've ever heard somebody say that out loud: "Try listening to that for three weeks straight. But before Christmas, my dad hadn't finished a song in years, so I really don't have the heart to ask him to stop." Vanessa stands up to tell Rufus to stop -- playing his own guitar in his own house -- because she's got her own creative outlets to pursue -- in Rufus's house, which is not her house, because she lives on the streets, by her wits ["don't forget 'in an alley,' like Rayanne Graff" -- Sars] -- and Dan's phone rings, and of course it's Serena, because Dan has no friends, unless you count Vanessa, which I really wish you wouldn't.