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Vanessa　rolled　her　eyes　and　went　over　to　the　futon。　？I　think　I　know　what　you　crave。？　She　sat　
down　and　took　off　her　shirt；　the　adrenaline　pumping　even　harder　now。　？Hurry　up；？　she　
ordered。　？Aaron？s　bringing　my　dinner　and　then　I　have　studying　to　do。？　

Neighbors　in　the　surrounding　apartments　adjusted　their　telescopes。　They？d　moved　to　the　area　
because　the　rent　was　cheap。　Who　knew　there　was　also　going　to　be　built…in；　live　entertainment？！　

The　bossier　and　pissier　Vanessa　was；　the　more　hot　and　bothered　Dan　grew；　and　the　more　he　loved　
her。　His　hands　shook　and　sweat　formed　on　his　freshly　shaved　upper　lip。　He　was　entirely　at　her　
mercy。　

Down　on　Broadway；　Aaron　ignored　the　group　of　bystanders　on　the　other　side　of　the　street；　all　
staring　up　at　the　roof　of　Vanessa？s　building。　He　was　carrying　two　orders　of　hot　and　spicy　pad　Thai　
in　a　paper　bag　under　his　arm；　he　had　to　pee；　the　freaking　L　train　was　insanely　crowded；　and　he　was　
sweating　his　ass　off。　All　he　wanted　was　to　get　inside　and　take　a　nice　cool　shower。　Preferably　with　
Vanessa。　

He　found　her　note　and　scribbled　over　it；I？m　in　the　tub。　Then　he　left　the　front　door　standing　open　
to　make　it　easier　for　her　to　bring　her　basket　of　clean　laundry　inside　and　turned　on　the　stereo；　
blasting　that　Raves　song　Dan　Humphrey　had　recorded　with　them？the　only　one　that　was　any　good。　

？Crack　me　like　an　egg！？Aaron　sang　along　in　the　shower。　

Three　floors　up；　Dan　was　already　ramming　his　feet　back　into　his　socks。　The　music　was　faint　but　
unmistakable。　

？Do　you　think　he　saw　us？？　A　little　thrill　ran　through　Vanessa？s　body　at　the　thought。　God；　was　she　
perverse！　

Dan　hastily　slurped　down　the　last　oyster。　？What　do　you　want　me　to　do？？　he　asked；　sounding　just　
as　excited　as　she　did。See　how　perfect　we　are　for　each　other？　he　thought。　They　were　both　totally　
getting　off　on　the　fact　that　Aaron　had　no　clue。　Of　course；　cheating　was　bad　and　wrong；　but　it　was　


totally　fun　when　you　were　pletely；　madly　in　love　with　the　person　you　were　doing　it　with！　

？I？ll　go　downstairs　and　distract　him；？　Vanessa　whispered；　even　though　the　traffic　on　the　
Williamsburg　Bridge　was　so　loud　no　one　could　possibly　have　heard　her。　？While　you　leave。？　

Dan　shoved　the　cork　into　the　half…drunk　bottle　of　Merlot　and　tried　to　prop　it　up　inside　his　black　
Manhattan　Transfer　messenger　bag。　？You　want　me　to　leave？？　he　responded；　baffled。　He？d　
imagined　scaling　the　outside　of　the　building　like　Spider…Man　with　Vanessa　clinging　to　his　neck　

like　Kirsten　Dunst。　

Like　that　would　ever　happen；　Mr。　Spaghetti　Arms。　

？You　can　leave　that　here。？　Vanessa　pointed　at　the　wine。　？We？ll　drink　it　later。？　

Wemeaning　she　and　Dan；　or　she　and　Aaron？　

？Fine；？　Dan　replied；　catching　on　to　the　fact　that　Vanessa　was　about　to　go　downstairs　and　pretend　

he？d　never　even　been　there。　God；　she　was　smart。　And　so　tough　and　cool　under　pressure。　？Good　
luck　studying　this　weekend。？　

Vanessa　gave　his　butt　a　little　slap。　？I？ll　call　you；？　she　promised　before　hurrying　downstairs。　The　
door　to　the　apartment　was　open　and　Aaron　was　in　the　shower。　

Vanessa　undressed　for　the　second　time　in　fifteen　minutes。　

？Hi；？　she　greeted　him；　yanking　back　the　shower　curtain。　

？Hey。？　Aaron　grinned　and　held　out　a　soap…flecked　hand　to　help　her　in。　

Dan　tiptoed　slowly　downstairs；　reading　Neruda　aloud　to　himself；　his　hands　sweating　as　he　tried　
to　figure　out　if　what　had　just　happened　was　either　insanely　exciting　or　insanely　insulting。　

？　In　this　part　of　the　story　I　am　the　one　who　dies。　？　

The　problem　with　poets　like　him　is　they　always　err　on　the　negative　side。　

Guess　who？s　ing　to　breakfast　at　fred？s？　

Saturday　morning；　the　line　of　gorgeous　girls　wound　its　way　out　Barneys？　front　doors；　up　
Madison　to　Sixty…first　Street；　and　around　the　corner　to　Fifth　Avenue。　Most　of　them　were　wearing　
black　sleeveless　cocktail　dresses；　pointy　black　flats；　and　black　Jackie　Onassis？big　sunglasses。　


Serena　was　wearing　her　favorite　new　pair　of　True　Religion　jeans。　

　Typical。　

Somehow；　she？d　managed　to　be　one　of　the　first　girls　in　line。　Maybe　it　was　because　she　and　Nate　
had　never　really　gone　to　sleep　last　night？thanks　to　the　little　bottle　of　pills　he　kept　popping？？and　
she？d　still　been　awake　at　fiveA。M　。　She？d　just　grabbed　a　double　latte　at　the　deli　and　headed　over；　
lugging　her　French　textbook　with　her；　as　if　she？d　really　get　any　studying　done。　

Blairwas　first　in　line。　And；　surprise；　surprise；　shewas　Audrey　Hepburn。　Same　black　vintage　
Givenchy　dress；　same　pearl　choker；　same　French…twist　hairstyle？with　the　help　of　a　little　faux　
hair？same　oversize　Chanel　sunglasses；　same　black　elbow…length　gloves。　Lord　Marcus；　being　the　
sweet　and　charming　hunk　that　he　was；　had　helped　her　get　dressed　and　even　had　e　up　with　the　
idea　of　spending　the　night　in　a　hired　town　car；　parked　right　in　front　of　Barneys；　so　she？d　be　sure　to　
be　first　in　line　for　the　open　call。　Of　course；　they　hadn？t　been　able　to　do　much　for　fear　of　messing　
up　her　costume；　but　it　was　still　fun　to　hold　hands　in　the　backseat　and　talk　about　the　very　near　
future；　when　Blair　would　be　a　famous　Hollywood　star。　

？I？ll　be　your　pool　lad；？　Lord　Marcus　offered　in　his　adorable　English　accent。　？I？ll　fan　you　with　
palm　fronds　and　pour　your　cocktails。？　Of　course　he　wouldn？t　mind　giving　up　his　spot　in　the　
graduate　business　program　at　the　London　School　of　Economics；　where　he　was　starting　in　the　fall。　
He？d　do　anything　for　Blair？anything！　

？And　I？ll　have　the　best　designers　making　clothes　for　me　in　every　city　in　the　world；？　Blair　
fantasized　over　her　stomach？s　nervous　rumblings。　She　wanted　this　part　so　badly；　she　hadn？t　eaten　
all　day；　but　it　was　nearly　midnight　and　she　was　famished。　？Or　maybe　I？ll　ask　Uncle　Oscar　to　make　
all　my　clothes。？　

A　hot　dog　vendor　was　packing　up　for　the　night　on　the　corner　of　Sixty…first　and　Madison。　Would　
Lord　Marcus　be　perfectly　horrified　if　she　ate　one；　standing　on　the　curb　in　front　of　Barneys？　

It　would　be　no　worse　than　Audrey　Hepburn　eating　a　Danish　out　of　a　paper　bag　in　front　of　
Tiffany？s。　

？Look；　darling；　dinner！？　Lord　Marcus　cried；　noticing　the　vendor　and　literally　reading　Blair？s　
mind。　？You　sit　tight　and　I？ll　go　fetch　us　some。？　

Darling。　She　was　his　darling；　and　he　fetched　things　for　her！　

So　they？d　eaten　Sabrett　hot　dogs　with　mustard　and　relish　and　sipped　A&W　root　beer；　holding　
hands　and　dozing　off　until　Blair？s　eyelids　had　fluttered　open　to　find　Serena　looming　out　of　the　
early　morning　mist　in　her　perfectly　distressed　jeans　and　no　makeup。　She？d　bolted　out　of　the　car　
and　slapped　her　black　Chanel　sunglasses　over　her　eyes。　No　way　was　that　blond　bitch　going　to　steal　
her　part　in　this　show。　


Never　mind　the　other　hundreds　of　actress…wannabes　who　were　beginning　to　turn　up　for　the　
audition。　

Now　it　was　nearly　eight　o？clock　and　the　audition　was　about　to　begin。　It　was　an　unusually　hot　and　
humid　May　morning　and　the　two　girls　stood　front…to…back　at　the　head　of　the　line；　fanning　
themselves　with　the　page　of　lines　Ken　Mogul？s　helpers　had　handed　out　and　which　they？d　already　
memorized。　

Finally　Serena　could　stand　it　no　longer。　？God；　it？s　hot。？　Blair　didn？t　respond；　so　Serena　reached　
out　and　touched　Blair？s　bare　arm。　？So；　that　guy　you？ve　been　hanging　out　with？he　seems　really　
nice；？　she　ventured　awkwardly。　

Blair　wished　she　were　taller　so　she　could　gaze　down　at　Serena　with　such　hawklike　severity　that　
Serena　would　never　attempt　to　speak　to　her　again。　Alas；　she　was　nearly　six　inches　shorter　than　
Serena；　especially　since　she　was　wearing　the　required　Holly　Golightly？esque　superflat　flats。　

She　was　about　to　give　a　short　and　extremely　nasty　reply　when　she　realized　something　startling。　
She　didn？t　even　mind　anymore　that　Serena　had　Nate。　She　had　the　hotter；　taller；　more　refined；　
better…bred；　British　version　of　Nate；　and　she　was　perfectly　happy　with　him；　thank　you　very　much。　
In　fact；　just　to　prove　how　fine　she　was　with　everything；　they　could　all　be　friends？the　four　of　them。　

She　pushed　her　enormous　Chanel　sunglasses　on　top　of　her　head　and　smiled　brightly　up　at　her　
former　friend。　？How　about　after　this　the　four　of　us　all　get　a　drink　down　at　the　Yale　Club　together？　
They　have　a　great　lounge。　It？s　like　a　hotel　bar　out　of　an　old　movie　or　something。　You？d　love　it。？　

？Really？？Serena　gasped；　wondering　if　she　might　be　dreaming。　Had　Blair　really　just　invited　her　
and　Nate　to　have　a　drink　with　her　and　her　new　boyfriend？　

？Sorry　for　the　wait；　ladies。　All　right；　Blair　Waldorf；　you？re　up；？　announced　a　skinny　guy　in　his　
twenties　with　a　hipster…mullet　haircut　and　faded　Diesel　jeans　rolled　up　to　his　knees。　

Blair　flipped　her　sunglasses　back　onto　her　nose。　

？Good　luck；？　Serena　said　faintly；　still　unsure　of　whether　they　were　really　talking　to　each　other　or　
not。　

Mullet　guy　led　Blair　inside　the　store？thank　goodness　for　air…conditioning！？and　across　the　
cosmetics　floor　to　the　elevators。　Barneys　didn？t　open　until　ten　on　Saturdays；　so　it　was　weirdly　
quiet。　Of　course；　Blair　spent　so　much　time　there；　she　could　have　found　her　way　to　Fred？s　
blindfolded；　but　that　wasn？t　enough　to　get　her　the　part。　

Fred？s；　the　store？s　notorious　restaurant；　was　up　on　the　ninth　floor。　Long　and　narrow；　with　
windows　along　one　wall　overlooking　Madison；　and　a　small；　modern　bar；　it　was　the　type　of　


restaurant　that　was　surprisingly　unspectacular　looking　given　its　popularity。　What　made　it　
spectacular　was　its　usual　clientele？the　Holly　Golightlys　of　the　present　day　and　their　
Park…Avenue…dwelling　mothers　or　publicists；　all　dressed　in　Chanel　and　Prada；　sipping　white　wine　
spritzers　and　picking　at　their　salads　while　they　worried　about　whether　someone　else　was　going　to　
buy　the　last　pair　of　faun…colored　Costume　National　knee…high　stiletto　boots　they　had　spotted　on　
their　way　up　to　the　restaurant。　

Right　now；　though；　the　restaurant　was　empty；　except　for　Ken　Mogul　and　his　crew。　The　director　
was　standing　by　the　bar　giving　lighting　direction　to　a　gaggle　of　Swedish…looking　blond　female　
crewpeople　in　matching　black　tunics；　his　notorious　bulging　blue　eyes　bloodshot　with　fatigue。　He　
sported　a　short；　prickly；　reddish　beard　with　no　mustache？never　a　good　look？and　shoulder…length　
curly　red　hair。　His　1980s…style　leather　jacket　had　huge　rounded　shoulders；　and　his　Levi？s　were　
way　too　tight？also　not　a　good　look。　Blair　had　never　seen　him　before　and　thought　he　might　be　one　
of　the　crew　until　he　addressed　her。　

？Well；　you　certainlylook　the　part。？　He　pointed　to　one　of　the　chrome…and…black…leather　bar　stools；　
gesturing　for　her　to　sit　down。　？But　this　isn？t　a　plete　remake；　you　know。　I？m　taking　some　
liberties。　For　instance；　Holly　might　not　have　brown　hair。　And　she　could　be　tall。？　

Way　to　rub　a　brunette　who？s　always　been　on　the　shorter　side　the　wrong　way！　

It　had　taken　Blair　three　hours　to　get　dressed；　so　she　decided　to　ignore　his　insult。　She　folded　up　the　
sheet　of　paper　she？d　been　given　to　read　from　and　tucked　it　into　her　purse；　partly　to　impress　Ken　
Mogul　with　the　fact　that　she？d　already　memorized　her　lines；　and　partly　to　show　that　her　feathers　
weren？t　easily　ruffled。　Then　she　sat　down　on　a　bar　stool　and　crossed　her　legs　with　Audrey　
Hepburn？like　balletic　grace。　

？I？m　not　going　to　give　you　any　direction；？　Ken　Mogul　remarked。　？You　just　do　your　thing；　okay？　
So　？　action！？　

Blair　had　Googled　Ken　Mogul　and　found　a　ton　of　articles　about　how　he　called　himself　
the　？undirector；？　and　how　actors　hated　working　with　him　because　he　just　stared　at　them　without　
giving　them　any　direction　at　all。　He　probably　thought　he　was　terribly　avant…garde　or　whatever。　
Well；　that　was　fine　with　her；　because　she　didn？t　need　any　direction？shewas　Audrey　Hepburn　
playing　Holly　Golightly　twenty…four　hours　a　day。　

She　pulled　a　cigarette　and　the　long　ebony…and…mother…of…pearl　cigarette　holder　she？d　found　in　an　
antique　shop　in　Rhode　Island　two　summers　ago　out　of　her　slim　black　satin　vintage　Chanel　
pocketbook。　

？Howdo　youdo　？？　she　purred；　sounding　exactly　like　Audrey　at　her　most　charming。　She　lit　her　
cigarette　and　blew　a　delicate　stream　of　smoke　over　Ken　Mogul？s　head。　Then　she　delivered　that　
dreamy；　faraway　smile　that　was　Audrey？s　trademark。　？Don？t　you　justlove　it　here？　Isn？t　
itwonderful　waking　up　and　knowing　this　place　i