this valley of dying stars
Title: This Valley of Dying Stars
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairing: Vanessa Abrams/Nate Archibald. Mentions of others.
Rating: pg
Word Count: 1493
Summary: Daughters never become their mothers on purpose.
A/N: Had this half written from way back when. Vanessa-centric, because I, oh, adore her. A little gratuitous at times, I might say. Appearances by my own personal canon, which consists of Mr & Mrs Abrams and the sister. And Georgina Sparks makes an appearance. Joy. Also the editing? In my sleep deprived state is rather shocking. Title taken from The Hollow Men, by TS Eliot.
She had a dream that he cheated on her. She told him not to leave her.
She begged him.
(In this dream, her sister had a pony and Dan smoked a pipe and there was a house shaped like a pineapple and other things Vanessa knows are not possible, but anyway…)
She wakes up with a jolt.
She’s becoming her mother.
(Later, Ruby tells her she’s overreacting and it was just a dream, but recent events have shown her that it might just be anything but.)
---
Some days, Vanessa wonders where this is all going.
The fancy parties, the social graces, the ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ and the ‘this is too much, really’. She feels the murmurs behind her back, catches the stares and hates that she feels uncomfortable in her own skin.
The girls, with the thousand dollar dresses and haughty sneers whisper loudly, Nate’s slumming it, apparently.
Apparently.
He grabs her hand and pulls her close and she can’t stop the smile from forming.
(Vanessa doesn’t know what she’s doing.)
---
He’s always late.
Everything is always an emergency.
She hates his friends.
If she believed in signs…
(What the hell is she doing?)
---
Chuck asks her that one day. They’re both sitting at the edge of the room, she, forever out of place, him removed from the festivities. He’s richer than god now, apparently and between people offering their ‘condolences’ and propositions, he looks bored. Sitting beside her, she offers neither and he smirks.
“I’m sitting here.” Vanessa answers, annoyed.
“That’s not what I mean,” he drawls and she avoids his gaze, looking around the room at glaring faces and whispered stares.
“I don’t know what you mean.” It’s not a game, but, what the heck, she’ll play.
“You want to know something Abrams?” he asks, continuing when she doesn’t answer, “Nobody likes you-”
“Gee, thanks-”
“Let me finish. Nobody likes you because you lasted longer than they expected. They’re shallow; they can’t see past the exterior.”
“And you can?”
“You’re missing the point.”
“I thought the point was to belittle me.”
“You’re not the worst person I know. I’ll just leave it at that. And I’ll ask you again; what are you doing?”
She pauses and Chuck’s staring at her, scotch forgotten on the side table.
“Trying not to become my parents.”
He chuckles, raising his drink.
“Aren’t we all.”
She takes a swig.
(The liquid burns and she feels something like heartache.)
---
Her mother calls every Sunday, seven o’clock, on the dot. Her sister’s always ‘out’ so she answers her frenzied call. She’s happy, she’s laughing, she’s shouting she’s crying. She talks about her art and how she’s happy and how her father sends his love.
(There’s an ‘I love she’ somewhere there, between ‘I bought more brushes’ and ‘Your father’s cheating again’ and if anything, it feels like an afterthought.)
Vanessa asks her how she’s doing and she bursts into tears.
(Later, she tells Ruby Mum called and she rolls her eyes with a sigh - another day another drama. The difference between her and Ruby is that while she resents her for what she is, Ruby resents her for what she’s not; the perfect mother, perfect wife, the perfect person. She knows that it’s unattainable but Ruby’s always been the dreamer and she's always been practical.)
She asks about a care package that she never sent never came. She forces a smile into her voice and tells her she misses her.
(Daughters never become their mothers on purpose.)
---
Dan asks she how she and Nate are doing and she hesitates because she know Jenny’s listening in and She’s still hurting, not because of the humiliation, but because of how much she’s becoming them, no matter how much Dan (or anyone else) denies it.
Sure, there was an apology somewhere, but she knows the difference between sincerity and guilt like the back of her video camera, so she takes it with a grain of salt. Dan tells her she’s really upset about it, but she’s really upset about the cancellation of Pushing Daisies, so it means nothing. He chuckles awkwardly, and the world spins on.
(The thing about Jenny Humphrey? She’s not ready for the world. She thinks life’s all about the Upper East Side and that fact alone proves she not. Life isn’t extravagant clothes and rich girls with headbands costing more than her rent and things given to you on a silver platter. Life will beat you down and laugh in your face. Life will destroy you.)
She makes her way to leave the Humphrey loft, when a small hand grabs her wrist.
“Vanessa, I’m sorry.”
She opens her mouth to give the younger girl a piece of her mind when she pauses. Too many ex ‘Aunts’ over the years, friends of her mother her father was a little too fond of cut out before they had the chance to betray her. (She never wanted to be the girl that ditches her friends for a guy.)
“It’s okay.”
Once again it’s rainbows and sunshine for Jenny Humphrey and she’s left not feeling any better.
(Call it a feeling, call it intuition, call it a hunch. Call it anything you like. But this won’t be the first time she’ll be betrayed by the younger girl. Not by a long shot. Her father made she bitter, her mother sad, her sister cynical and she’s sick of trying to reach a balance.)
She quietly leaves the loft. She wonders (hopes) when this will all end.
---
Another day, another party. This time, Georgina/Sarah/whatever is back in town, wrecking havoc wherever she goes, with a prescription drug addiction and the Manolos to match. Blair’s off having a fit somewhere while her boyfriend tries to placate her. Chuck raises his drink at her from across the crowd; a surprisingly friendly face in an unsurprisingly friendly crowd.
Georgina struts over to her side of the room, throwing herself next to her, reaching into her bag for a cigarette.
“Great party, huh?”
Vanessa rolls her eyes with a sigh.
“Go on then,” she smirks, “I know you’re dying to say something.”
“Really? I just think it’s so amazing you know so much about me when I know so little about you, Sarah.”
“Touche.” She chuckles, exhaling softly. “She know what, V, I’m impressed.”
“What?”
“Snagging the elusive Archibald? He’s been under Blair’s thumb for years. And don’t think that all these trust fund skanks haven’t had a crack at that, many have tried, many have failed. Lucky Bass is there to mend their broken hearts, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this tirade,” she sigh, moving to leave.
“Don’t think it’s just me who has little Miss Waldorf’s feathers in a flap.” Georgina chuckles, “You march into his world with a video camera and a little thing called honesty and he’s enchanted. I mean, I’m about this close to embroidering your face onto a t-shirt, that’s how impressed I am.”
“You're causing a scene,”
She laughs loudly at this throwing her hands into the air.
“And you enjoy the attention. Feeling like you’re better than everyone because you work for what you own? Welcome to the Upper East Side, V. Your dignity’s no use here.”
---
She’s waiting for the bomb to drop.
(Newsflash: it doesn’t.)
It’ll end with a whimper, not a bang. Or it won’t end at all.
---
“I’m not sure when my life became a John Hughes movie,” she thinks aloud, Nate looking up from his English paper.
“What?”
“John Hughes? The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Pretty in Pink, Ferris-”
“I know who John Hughes is,” he rolls his eyes, “believe it or not, Blair and Serena didn’t only watch Audrey movies.”
“Audrey’s overrated.”
“Back to your original statement, please?”
“Oh, right,” she smiles, crossing her legs on the couch, “I feel like Ally Sheedy’s character in The Breakfast Club.”
“Which would make me…Emilio Estevez in this scenario, I presume?”
He’s teasing her now and she throws a cushion at him, grinning.
“Yeah, well, weird outsider ends up with the popular, dreamy jock? Sound familiar?”
“You think I’m dreamy?”
“Not the point, Nate.”
“You think I’m dreamy…” he laughs, abandoning his laptop and moving to sit on the couch, hovering over her.
“Nate!”
“Well, for one, thing, you’re not weird.” He smirks softly, “you’re smart, honest, creative and totally gorgeous. And wise, Abrams, let’s not forget that.”
“Go on,” she laughs.
“And modest, obviously. And it didn’t take a quickie makeover for me to see how perfect you are.”
“Perfect, huh?”
“Uh huh. Now that’s way better than ‘dreamy’, isn’t it?”
(Vanessa bursts into uncharacteristic giggles and Nate laughs, kissing her softly. Ignoring Ruby’s not so subtle ‘get a room!’ Vanessa can’t help but think that he’s, more than likely, the perfect one here. Totally and utterly.)
---
This thing?
(The longer it lasts, the more it feels real.)
She’s playing for keeps, this one.
(Count on it.)
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairing: Vanessa Abrams/Nate Archibald. Mentions of others.
Rating: pg
Word Count: 1493
Summary: Daughters never become their mothers on purpose.
A/N: Had this half written from way back when. Vanessa-centric, because I, oh, adore her. A little gratuitous at times, I might say. Appearances by my own personal canon, which consists of Mr & Mrs Abrams and the sister. And Georgina Sparks makes an appearance. Joy. Also the editing? In my sleep deprived state is rather shocking. Title taken from The Hollow Men, by TS Eliot.
She had a dream that he cheated on her. She told him not to leave her.
She begged him.
(In this dream, her sister had a pony and Dan smoked a pipe and there was a house shaped like a pineapple and other things Vanessa knows are not possible, but anyway…)
She wakes up with a jolt.
She’s becoming her mother.
(Later, Ruby tells her she’s overreacting and it was just a dream, but recent events have shown her that it might just be anything but.)
---
Some days, Vanessa wonders where this is all going.
The fancy parties, the social graces, the ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ and the ‘this is too much, really’. She feels the murmurs behind her back, catches the stares and hates that she feels uncomfortable in her own skin.
The girls, with the thousand dollar dresses and haughty sneers whisper loudly, Nate’s slumming it, apparently.
Apparently.
He grabs her hand and pulls her close and she can’t stop the smile from forming.
(Vanessa doesn’t know what she’s doing.)
---
He’s always late.
Everything is always an emergency.
She hates his friends.
If she believed in signs…
(What the hell is she doing?)
---
Chuck asks her that one day. They’re both sitting at the edge of the room, she, forever out of place, him removed from the festivities. He’s richer than god now, apparently and between people offering their ‘condolences’ and propositions, he looks bored. Sitting beside her, she offers neither and he smirks.
“I’m sitting here.” Vanessa answers, annoyed.
“That’s not what I mean,” he drawls and she avoids his gaze, looking around the room at glaring faces and whispered stares.
“I don’t know what you mean.” It’s not a game, but, what the heck, she’ll play.
“You want to know something Abrams?” he asks, continuing when she doesn’t answer, “Nobody likes you-”
“Gee, thanks-”
“Let me finish. Nobody likes you because you lasted longer than they expected. They’re shallow; they can’t see past the exterior.”
“And you can?”
“You’re missing the point.”
“I thought the point was to belittle me.”
“You’re not the worst person I know. I’ll just leave it at that. And I’ll ask you again; what are you doing?”
She pauses and Chuck’s staring at her, scotch forgotten on the side table.
“Trying not to become my parents.”
He chuckles, raising his drink.
“Aren’t we all.”
She takes a swig.
(The liquid burns and she feels something like heartache.)
---
Her mother calls every Sunday, seven o’clock, on the dot. Her sister’s always ‘out’ so she answers her frenzied call. She’s happy, she’s laughing, she’s shouting she’s crying. She talks about her art and how she’s happy and how her father sends his love.
(There’s an ‘I love she’ somewhere there, between ‘I bought more brushes’ and ‘Your father’s cheating again’ and if anything, it feels like an afterthought.)
Vanessa asks her how she’s doing and she bursts into tears.
(Later, she tells Ruby Mum called and she rolls her eyes with a sigh - another day another drama. The difference between her and Ruby is that while she resents her for what she is, Ruby resents her for what she’s not; the perfect mother, perfect wife, the perfect person. She knows that it’s unattainable but Ruby’s always been the dreamer and she's always been practical.)
She asks about a care package that she never sent never came. She forces a smile into her voice and tells her she misses her.
(Daughters never become their mothers on purpose.)
---
Dan asks she how she and Nate are doing and she hesitates because she know Jenny’s listening in and She’s still hurting, not because of the humiliation, but because of how much she’s becoming them, no matter how much Dan (or anyone else) denies it.
Sure, there was an apology somewhere, but she knows the difference between sincerity and guilt like the back of her video camera, so she takes it with a grain of salt. Dan tells her she’s really upset about it, but she’s really upset about the cancellation of Pushing Daisies, so it means nothing. He chuckles awkwardly, and the world spins on.
(The thing about Jenny Humphrey? She’s not ready for the world. She thinks life’s all about the Upper East Side and that fact alone proves she not. Life isn’t extravagant clothes and rich girls with headbands costing more than her rent and things given to you on a silver platter. Life will beat you down and laugh in your face. Life will destroy you.)
She makes her way to leave the Humphrey loft, when a small hand grabs her wrist.
“Vanessa, I’m sorry.”
She opens her mouth to give the younger girl a piece of her mind when she pauses. Too many ex ‘Aunts’ over the years, friends of her mother her father was a little too fond of cut out before they had the chance to betray her. (She never wanted to be the girl that ditches her friends for a guy.)
“It’s okay.”
Once again it’s rainbows and sunshine for Jenny Humphrey and she’s left not feeling any better.
(Call it a feeling, call it intuition, call it a hunch. Call it anything you like. But this won’t be the first time she’ll be betrayed by the younger girl. Not by a long shot. Her father made she bitter, her mother sad, her sister cynical and she’s sick of trying to reach a balance.)
She quietly leaves the loft. She wonders (hopes) when this will all end.
---
Another day, another party. This time, Georgina/Sarah/whatever is back in town, wrecking havoc wherever she goes, with a prescription drug addiction and the Manolos to match. Blair’s off having a fit somewhere while her boyfriend tries to placate her. Chuck raises his drink at her from across the crowd; a surprisingly friendly face in an unsurprisingly friendly crowd.
Georgina struts over to her side of the room, throwing herself next to her, reaching into her bag for a cigarette.
“Great party, huh?”
Vanessa rolls her eyes with a sigh.
“Go on then,” she smirks, “I know you’re dying to say something.”
“Really? I just think it’s so amazing you know so much about me when I know so little about you, Sarah.”
“Touche.” She chuckles, exhaling softly. “She know what, V, I’m impressed.”
“What?”
“Snagging the elusive Archibald? He’s been under Blair’s thumb for years. And don’t think that all these trust fund skanks haven’t had a crack at that, many have tried, many have failed. Lucky Bass is there to mend their broken hearts, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this tirade,” she sigh, moving to leave.
“Don’t think it’s just me who has little Miss Waldorf’s feathers in a flap.” Georgina chuckles, “You march into his world with a video camera and a little thing called honesty and he’s enchanted. I mean, I’m about this close to embroidering your face onto a t-shirt, that’s how impressed I am.”
“You're causing a scene,”
She laughs loudly at this throwing her hands into the air.
“And you enjoy the attention. Feeling like you’re better than everyone because you work for what you own? Welcome to the Upper East Side, V. Your dignity’s no use here.”
---
She’s waiting for the bomb to drop.
(Newsflash: it doesn’t.)
It’ll end with a whimper, not a bang. Or it won’t end at all.
---
“I’m not sure when my life became a John Hughes movie,” she thinks aloud, Nate looking up from his English paper.
“What?”
“John Hughes? The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Pretty in Pink, Ferris-”
“I know who John Hughes is,” he rolls his eyes, “believe it or not, Blair and Serena didn’t only watch Audrey movies.”
“Audrey’s overrated.”
“Back to your original statement, please?”
“Oh, right,” she smiles, crossing her legs on the couch, “I feel like Ally Sheedy’s character in The Breakfast Club.”
“Which would make me…Emilio Estevez in this scenario, I presume?”
He’s teasing her now and she throws a cushion at him, grinning.
“Yeah, well, weird outsider ends up with the popular, dreamy jock? Sound familiar?”
“You think I’m dreamy?”
“Not the point, Nate.”
“You think I’m dreamy…” he laughs, abandoning his laptop and moving to sit on the couch, hovering over her.
“Nate!”
“Well, for one, thing, you’re not weird.” He smirks softly, “you’re smart, honest, creative and totally gorgeous. And wise, Abrams, let’s not forget that.”
“Go on,” she laughs.
“And modest, obviously. And it didn’t take a quickie makeover for me to see how perfect you are.”
“Perfect, huh?”
“Uh huh. Now that’s way better than ‘dreamy’, isn’t it?”
(Vanessa bursts into uncharacteristic giggles and Nate laughs, kissing her softly. Ignoring Ruby’s not so subtle ‘get a room!’ Vanessa can’t help but think that he’s, more than likely, the perfect one here. Totally and utterly.)
---
This thing?
(The longer it lasts, the more it feels real.)
She’s playing for keeps, this one.
(Count on it.)