It's not that I hate Dan Humphrey: he's a hilariously embarrassing and technically perfect image of the high school boy. I hate that the show, with rare exceptions, doesn't smash him in the face for it at every opportunity. It's not that I'm climbing onto a soapbox or ever have so much as I can't seem to forget that it's 2008: is it more realistic to have Serena obey Dan and fight Blair for no reason, or is it more realistic to have her understand that her relationship with Blair is lifelong, and Dan is a momentary white-trash blip? I'm not a teenage girl watching this show so I don't know, but ... Things could be better. I don't know what else to say. Things could be better, and Dan and Serena have been telling us why and how for a long time now.
Dan and Serena agree that they're done talking, not that they've said more than a few lines of truth, and she cradles herself into his intense arms, leaning into his shoulder; without looking, he offers it. Their bodies know even if their heads don't yet.
In the side room, Nate's just entering looking for Vanessa, explaining he couldn't find Catherine, when the lights come on. There is hooting outside the room as the guests are relieved. "Your friend had to leave," says Catherine. "Is there something that you wanted to tell me?"
Lord Marcus walks in on Blair and Chuck making out; he pulls at her dress insistently. He is stricken, or simply feels like watching for an interminable British amount of time, before he speaks up: "Bleh?" GG has him there, though. "Spotted: Lady B, acting not so ladylike." She's sweaty as she adjusts her dress; Chuck contents himself with staring at his new friend. "Hope you kept the receipt for that tiara, B!"
Marcus immediately goes full-on Ashley Wilkes over her protests, punching Chuck in the face while simultaneously pointing out that Blair is a total liar, and the accent was not quite the ass-covering subterfuge she's whining it is. She shoots Chuck an obligatory and totally fake hate look, and grabs the Lord on the stairs. He whirls, showing some fire for once, everybody watching now that the lights are on, her coming closer like a horse whisperer, and she admits that he's right: she knew who it was. WHAT? Who is this Blair, that cops to wrongdoing in front of witnesses? But no, she's using them, watch. He ignores her protestations, claiming she's played him: "You want my title, the idea of who I am. But you clearly want him, which makes me a fool. Because I actually did want you. I do want you." And just like that, in flagrante Waldorf turns it around: you don't get to call me a whore until you do your best. "Show me. I'm not some delicate little flower. Show me you want me." They make out hardcore; Chuck is like three inches away on the stairwell making crazy faces, and it still manages to be awesome. Stop being douche-y, duchy! It's your birthday!