Woman's Suffrage Day.
You bet your ass we are. I swear I'm not making that up; I'm never making this shit up. And how are we celebrating? The Plastics wait in the courtyard, having traded their Blairite headbands in for loose, casual scarves. Blair arrives and begins to explain her absence yesterday, but nobody cares. Serena's arrived. They climb over each other for her attention; she ignores them. Serena turns a cold eye on Blair. Blair, who wouldn't stop pushing. Blair, who engineered last night from a million miles away, who wouldn't let Serena take the high road. Who needed "her old Serena" back so terribly badly that she'd break something precious, even as Serena begged her not to. Blair, who put the key in the locks and turned them one by one.
"I left you four messages," Serena says softly. "You okay?" Blair's afraid, confused; Serena's eyes track her like a snake. "I wasn't feeling well..." Serena make a barely sympathetic moue and hmms at her for a moment, lovingly, and then takes the scarf from around her head, and ties it around Blair's neck. (How many times in a day does somebody touch your throat?) "You poor thing," she says, musically; Blair starts to panic. She stammers out that she needs to get her missed assignments, and Serena strokes her hair. Just like Georgina did, once upon a time. She promised it would feel so good, to let it burn. She was right.
Blair walks away, touching her hair where Serena singed it; the scarf around her neck, like a collar. Chuck appears, grinning. "Well well well. Look who's back on top. I wonder how that happened!?" Serena goes among the people, admiring their necklaces, adjusting their hair, giving her favor and taking it away again. The sun lights her up; she is on fire. "Wait. Now that I think of it, I know exactly how that happened. Hmm."
Blair's already hollow, she's been hollow since the photographs. This is the second thing they've taken away from her. Who is she now? What's left?
Blair shoots Chuck a look and, still stunned, wanders away. Chuck watches Serena in the sun, and grins. She's not the target, but it's good to have her back. He's missed her for a long time. His sister.