"Just like old times," Chuck says, and Nate asks if he's enjoying it. To the porcelain musical tune of Serena ralphing, Chuck shrugs. "Call me sentimental?" Blair comes out, pretty unimpressed with the goings-on, and says they might not need the bagels after all. Nate, still worried, is like a dog with a bone: "What's going on with her?" Blair explains that Serena came over and said some WTF stuff, "But was too freaked out to find the words to explain it. I went upstairs to find my mom's Valium to calm her down, but when I got back, she was gone. It took me all night to find her." This last with a tenderness and a worry that always gets to me. Chuck asks what the big thing was, but Blair's not feeling that right now: "We're here to help Serena, no matter what the problem is."
There's a bro reading the Post against the dirty van -- BEAUTY BAGS BASS -- which pisses Rufus off, and he sends the dude away. Vanessa helps him load in as he complains about the Post, which leads Vanessa to ask why he's a subscriber. He changes the subject to Dan's very awful-to-watch depression, and V explains that the situation with Serena has been a bit bumpy of late. The kind of bumpy where you can't even talk about it except through the language of Scrabble. "I think the most recent bump is our friend Sarah. Serena's a little jealous, but Sarah's cool, so as soon as Serena gets to know her, everything will be fine." (Because of course, Vanessa, if Serena doesn't like you, it's because Serena's the one with the problem.) A huge poster of Rufus looking megafine ten years ago comes scrolling down the side of the building, and Vanessa and Rufus admire it.
"Tell me where you took this photograph," the RS guy says, "What undoubtedly could be called the band's most well-known image?" Lily wouldn't go that far, but he sure would: "It's positively iconic." And it really is. There's a very neato Almost Famous vibe about the photo, which is black-and-white and shows Rufus being very rock star at the mic. "Were you and Rufus Humphrey already involved when you took it?" Lily almost chokes on her tea or whatever, and the reporter clarifies: "Rufus Humphrey, lead singer of Lincoln Hawk? Or... Was this before or after...?" She puts him off, saying she wants to talk about her work, and he assures her that he is, because he doesn't know that when you grow up your heart dies and you stop taking photographs and start marrying everybody you meet. "Why'd you give up photography? Was it too hard to continue shooting after you had broken his heart?" There's a knock on the door; Lily's Louboutins don't even touch the floor as she hastens to answer it.