On Communism and Other Things
Title:On Communism and Other Things
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Dan/Blair
Rating:Benign (I never know what to put here)
Words 1,053
Authors Note: First effort and I know I do not do them justice but something short and sparse about NYU was just begging to be written.
Warning: I take extreme liberties with my socialist and communist references. Unbetta'd, mistakes all mine.
Teaser: Teach me to talk poor; those hippie professors skew towards the socialists, she says.
1.
She corners him in the hallway while he’s drinking water from the fountain, he unintentionally dribbles some onto his shirt (no doubt her desired effect, or at least an added bonus). He brushes it off irritably as she asks him her ridiculous demand for the week, breathe less, try not to exist, stop serving as a reminder to Nate of a lesser time, could you not need Serena right now while I’m busy needing her, please consider the fact that your work will be worth more posthumously…
But today she says something about NYU and learning to speak to the proletariats. Teach me to talk poor, Humphrey; those hippie professors skew towards the socialists she says. He tells her to stay away from any references involving cake and leaves.
2.
It’s cheaper, local, instate, free laundry, frequent meals. It’s local. He holds his breath. It won’t be like high school, which, he admits to himself, is his greatest fear. Yale wrote again, just numbers this time, all out of his reach. Violet and white. It’s cheaper, local, instate, free laundry, frequent meals. It’s local.
3.
It’s a freshman seminar, packed to the rafters with careless coeds who glance at reading list, buy the books and won’t return until midterms and finals. She’s there for the third and fourth meeting, so is he, and through the endlessly thinning crowd he sees her sitting alone, taking notes.
She mills about the back of class, packing and repacking her pens and pencils. He hangs around with classmates as they discuss the unexpected group project. He tries to ignore her out of the corner of his eye, ignore the fact that she hasn’t done anything to endear herself to these people, Cabbage Patch? Tries so hard to remember he doesn’t owe her anything, doesn't even have to acknowledge that he knew her name once.
Looks like I may need a partner, he finds himself saying anyway.
Her eyes light up briefly; well of course you do Humphrey.
4.
She stays at home, of course, opting out of housing, lice, scabies, whooping cough; he imagines she’ll say as he makes his way up to her quarters.
They’re not tenements you know.
Meningitis, she offers sensibly.
They have a vaccine.
Yeah, but not for the freshman fifteen.
He laughs; she’s unintentionally funny in her deadpan delivery.
~
She knows more about the coursework then he would’ve guessed. They have time to take a break, hungry Humphrey?
Only for cake.
She sneers but it’s more of a smile.
An hour later and their books have been tossed aside, Dan’s hands are pulling at his hair while she lies calmly overlooking her syllabi.
How can you not support people’s desire for self determination?!
Because, Guevara, where do you draw the line? I wish Manhattan could be its own country full of the fashionable and wealthy, but sadly we need people like you, Brooklyn, if nothing else than for labor. And if you bridge & tunnel people fought and separated, you’d just subjugate whoever’s beneath you ( if anyone), letting the cycle continue.
D-did you just say you need me? Wait, did you just make a semi valid argument-not that I agree with it, at all-using the word “ fashionable” in your defense?
Focus. You argue the way you do, based on some grand notion of religion or ideals, but it’s really always about wealth and distribution, power and resources.
He has to think for a moment.
The U.S.! The colonies! Sometimes it is just about ideals and liberty.
She shrugs and turns the page.
He laughs in disbelief and collapses into a chair.
~
An hour later she walks him to the foyer.
She fingers a honey brown curl testing its buoyancy.
You-you start by saying hi, he offers.
I’m sorry Lenin, she rolls her eyes, but I don’t speak random.
He chuckles. When you speak to the proles. You-you start by saying hi.
She smiles again and he counts, it’s almost the fourth one he’s seen tonight.
5.
Maggie, she says proudly, her name is Maggie and she listens to Ani DiFranco.
Keep this up and you’re going to be the most popular kid in school, Dan mocks while pushing his tray through the dining hall. She finally agrees to studying in his dorm, she had to stop by anyway and pick up borrowed French Lit notes from Stacey; Stacey’s from Iowa and has actually lived amongst livestock so don’t you ‘Animal Farm’ me, Humphrey.
He picks up fish sticks for her inspection, before he places it on the tray beside his own. She wrinkles her nose.
He smiles and continues down the line, proffering his student id at the till. Is that it for your show and tell portion?
No, don’t you feel like some people just won’t let the 90’s go? Birkenstocks, dreads, flannels, the U.S.S.R. she shivers, what a horrible decade. Wasn’t your dad even big then?
6.
The autumn air reddens her nose as she insists on breakfast near the arch, un morceau de Paris en parc de Washington carré, Daniel.
She successfully won the last three arguments, he doesn’t protest.
What does it say about me if I conquer both your world and mine? She gazes glassy eyed into the distance.
He thumbs the page to save his place.
That one could only hope to be you, Blair.
His eye roll is implied.
You’re stating the obvious, Trotsky. No, what does it mean that I can get into the Colony Club and a kegger simultaneously. I am the friend of every man Humphrey.
He laughs.
I transcend Constance.
Ok.
My grace goes far beyond the Met steps…perhaps, Ambassador Waldorf?
Try Imelda Marcos.
She elbows him, he counts. It’s the third one today.
Meaning I know people now… you don’t have to continue with the buddy system, she examines her hands though they’re gloved. I admit, it was rough in the beginning, but I rallied and rose from the ashes like I was always destined to, like a post 2000 election Al Gore.
She smiles at him self-satisfied.
Someday, Waldorf, you’ll realize I do things because I want to, not because I have to.
And yet, you still won’t let your people, Stalin?
He kisses her because, really, there’s nothing left to do.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Dan/Blair
Rating:Benign (I never know what to put here)
Words 1,053
Authors Note: First effort and I know I do not do them justice but something short and sparse about NYU was just begging to be written.
Warning: I take extreme liberties with my socialist and communist references. Unbetta'd, mistakes all mine.
Teaser: Teach me to talk poor; those hippie professors skew towards the socialists, she says.
1.
She corners him in the hallway while he’s drinking water from the fountain, he unintentionally dribbles some onto his shirt (no doubt her desired effect, or at least an added bonus). He brushes it off irritably as she asks him her ridiculous demand for the week, breathe less, try not to exist, stop serving as a reminder to Nate of a lesser time, could you not need Serena right now while I’m busy needing her, please consider the fact that your work will be worth more posthumously…
But today she says something about NYU and learning to speak to the proletariats. Teach me to talk poor, Humphrey; those hippie professors skew towards the socialists she says. He tells her to stay away from any references involving cake and leaves.
2.
It’s cheaper, local, instate, free laundry, frequent meals. It’s local. He holds his breath. It won’t be like high school, which, he admits to himself, is his greatest fear. Yale wrote again, just numbers this time, all out of his reach. Violet and white. It’s cheaper, local, instate, free laundry, frequent meals. It’s local.
3.
It’s a freshman seminar, packed to the rafters with careless coeds who glance at reading list, buy the books and won’t return until midterms and finals. She’s there for the third and fourth meeting, so is he, and through the endlessly thinning crowd he sees her sitting alone, taking notes.
She mills about the back of class, packing and repacking her pens and pencils. He hangs around with classmates as they discuss the unexpected group project. He tries to ignore her out of the corner of his eye, ignore the fact that she hasn’t done anything to endear herself to these people, Cabbage Patch? Tries so hard to remember he doesn’t owe her anything, doesn't even have to acknowledge that he knew her name once.
Looks like I may need a partner, he finds himself saying anyway.
Her eyes light up briefly; well of course you do Humphrey.
4.
She stays at home, of course, opting out of housing, lice, scabies, whooping cough; he imagines she’ll say as he makes his way up to her quarters.
They’re not tenements you know.
Meningitis, she offers sensibly.
They have a vaccine.
Yeah, but not for the freshman fifteen.
He laughs; she’s unintentionally funny in her deadpan delivery.
~
She knows more about the coursework then he would’ve guessed. They have time to take a break, hungry Humphrey?
Only for cake.
She sneers but it’s more of a smile.
An hour later and their books have been tossed aside, Dan’s hands are pulling at his hair while she lies calmly overlooking her syllabi.
How can you not support people’s desire for self determination?!
Because, Guevara, where do you draw the line? I wish Manhattan could be its own country full of the fashionable and wealthy, but sadly we need people like you, Brooklyn, if nothing else than for labor. And if you bridge & tunnel people fought and separated, you’d just subjugate whoever’s beneath you ( if anyone), letting the cycle continue.
D-did you just say you need me? Wait, did you just make a semi valid argument-not that I agree with it, at all-using the word “ fashionable” in your defense?
Focus. You argue the way you do, based on some grand notion of religion or ideals, but it’s really always about wealth and distribution, power and resources.
He has to think for a moment.
The U.S.! The colonies! Sometimes it is just about ideals and liberty.
She shrugs and turns the page.
He laughs in disbelief and collapses into a chair.
~
An hour later she walks him to the foyer.
She fingers a honey brown curl testing its buoyancy.
You-you start by saying hi, he offers.
I’m sorry Lenin, she rolls her eyes, but I don’t speak random.
He chuckles. When you speak to the proles. You-you start by saying hi.
She smiles again and he counts, it’s almost the fourth one he’s seen tonight.
5.
Maggie, she says proudly, her name is Maggie and she listens to Ani DiFranco.
Keep this up and you’re going to be the most popular kid in school, Dan mocks while pushing his tray through the dining hall. She finally agrees to studying in his dorm, she had to stop by anyway and pick up borrowed French Lit notes from Stacey; Stacey’s from Iowa and has actually lived amongst livestock so don’t you ‘Animal Farm’ me, Humphrey.
He picks up fish sticks for her inspection, before he places it on the tray beside his own. She wrinkles her nose.
He smiles and continues down the line, proffering his student id at the till. Is that it for your show and tell portion?
No, don’t you feel like some people just won’t let the 90’s go? Birkenstocks, dreads, flannels, the U.S.S.R. she shivers, what a horrible decade. Wasn’t your dad even big then?
6.
The autumn air reddens her nose as she insists on breakfast near the arch, un morceau de Paris en parc de Washington carré, Daniel.
She successfully won the last three arguments, he doesn’t protest.
What does it say about me if I conquer both your world and mine? She gazes glassy eyed into the distance.
He thumbs the page to save his place.
That one could only hope to be you, Blair.
His eye roll is implied.
You’re stating the obvious, Trotsky. No, what does it mean that I can get into the Colony Club and a kegger simultaneously. I am the friend of every man Humphrey.
He laughs.
I transcend Constance.
Ok.
My grace goes far beyond the Met steps…perhaps, Ambassador Waldorf?
Try Imelda Marcos.
She elbows him, he counts. It’s the third one today.
Meaning I know people now… you don’t have to continue with the buddy system, she examines her hands though they’re gloved. I admit, it was rough in the beginning, but I rallied and rose from the ashes like I was always destined to, like a post 2000 election Al Gore.
She smiles at him self-satisfied.
Someday, Waldorf, you’ll realize I do things because I want to, not because I have to.
And yet, you still won’t let your people, Stalin?
He kisses her because, really, there’s nothing left to do.