Dan, sweetly, hearkens back to the wingmanship: "No, the fact that it was Vanessa is what made it so fun!" That's just the nicest thing he's ever said. Like they were backpacking through the rainforests or fixed-gear bicycling through Brooklyn, and not boxing a major movie star out double-time. "The problem is during a threesome, there's always a twosome and a onesome going on," Nate explains further; in the vernacular we call this the Abrams Boxout. Dan explains that watching Olivia and Vanessa box each other out, while taking the onesome role, was "not so bad." Nate laughs and grossly brings to the table the fact that Abrams is "vocal" in bed, which is knowledge that Nate and Dan now share, and unfortunately so do we. But his point is, so does Olivia, so now O has a loop of movie in her head where Vanessa Abrams is having one constant screaming fake-weave plastered to the forehead tufted organic crystal-deodorant orgasm, and I just threw up everything I ever ate, and Dan assures him that everybody is okay and then Nate explains that Dan is retarded, which if Nate Archibald has to tell you that you're being dumb, sit your ass down wherever you are and don't get up until you have reprioritized, buddy.
Also, Nate looks beautiful this week. Perhaps his scabies have cleared up, or maybe somebody killed Bree Buckley, who is the patient zero of the scabies and thus their leader. Or maybe that horse-healthy ruddiness due to the chill is just his skin finally making sense again. Just like his mouth-words: "Because you're lucky to have both of them in your life, all right? Not only do I not have a girlfriend, ever since Serena and I stopped speaking I don't even have a girl friend, either. You had both, and you blew it."
Dan spots Vanessa because at NYU there are two places to get coffee, a cart or that place that's so popular with nerds, and Nate literally starts shushing him like a horse: "Okay, okay, okay, good boy, uh oh, good Dan, okay." But he's off! He climbs all over Vanessa wagging his tail and fairly screaming at Nate about he didn't lose her, she's right there, she's still his friend, everything is fine, stop killing the buzz, the buzz is endangered. Plus, then he bribes Vanessa to go to the Bowery because, he "thinks," Morrissey is playing. Like just maybe. "So you want to go, just the two of us, for old times' sake?"
OLD TIMES? I mean, is it any wonder that Lily Bass is seven different ages at the same time when they do this shit? Because those are not Vanessa and Dan's old times, they are Rufus and Lily's old times. And I mean, if anybody would be douchy enough to get a retro crush on the Mozz it would be them, so that's fine, except didn't he like stop touring for their entire lives and just recently start up again? Did I make that up? Perhaps. It's this paranoia doing this. So anyway, they're going to gay on over to the Bowery tonight and see Morrissey, which Nate nearly cries from how much he loves how awful this is, and then there is hella-awkward hugging, which is the perfect way to start a day of Morrissey after all, and Nate gives Vanessa not one but two awkward nods because he finally remembered who she is and what her orgasms are like, and Dan is hazy with denial, just caked in it like a coal miner, and Nate's like, "Well, call me when this all blows up in her face so I can make fun of you and smoke pot and give you unhelpful advice while I swan around somebody's [Whose? His? Bass's? The erstwhile van der Bilt HQ?] loft in the Empire Hotel all day and all night."