Disclaimer- I own none of these characters.


Of Mothers

"Sometimes when you feel like you're suffocating, all you need is a breath of fresh air."

September 6th, 1998

"My, Miss Blair you look lovely today." Dorota complimented seven year old Blair Waldorf as she finished buttoning the back of her dress.

"Thank you Dorota, I rather like the head band that Daddy got me." Blair replied, giving a small smile as she straightened out her head band.

"Well, have a good first day at school Mi-"

"Dorota!" Eleanor's shrill voice called.

"Yes, Mrs. Waldorf?"

"Please excuse yourself, I have to talk to Blair for a moment." Eleanor asked sweetly.

"Yes, Mrs. Waldorf." Dorota replied, giving a small curtsy as she left.

"Mother, are you coming to my first day with me?" Blair asked eagerly.

"No, Blair. I've been over this so many times. I have to go to work. I have to get to work an hour early for a meeting with Bloomingdales."

"But you promised!" Blair whined, stomping her foot down.

"Don't be so spoiled, Blair. Stomping like that is un-ladylike." Eleanor scolded.

"What if I don't want to be ladylike?" Blair challenged, clenching her fists and glaring at her mother.

"Blair. I will come next year. This is the last time I will hear of it f-oh, Blair. Now I'm late for the meeting!" Eleanor groaned, giving an annoyed Blair a chaste kiss on her forehead and grabbing her purse.

"Oh, here this will make up for it, right? It's a new line of perfume by Dior. Now you have your first perfume bottle." Eleanor said hopefully, giving a parting gaze at the perfume.

"You better come next year, mother!" Blair called after her mother, giving a wondrous glance at the bottle. She'd seen her mother put perfume on all the time but she'd never let her try any on.

That day, Blair Waldorf went to school smelling rather strongly of Hypnotic Poison. Too bad nobody ever told her "Less is more."

Present Day

"Dorota, where's my headband?!" I yelled, hastily knocking over hundred-dollar perfume bottles and lotions in search of my headband.

"I have it, Miss Blair!" Dorota said, her voice echoing from downstairs.

"Oh, thank god! Daddy bought it for me when he was in Italy." I explained as she scurried up the stairs and to my room.

"Yes, Miss Blair. It is quite the headband. Now hurry, Miss Serena will be here soon!" she reprimanded as she bustled out of my room.

"Miss Serena is here!" Dorota yelled, just a minute after she had left. I brushed my hair one last time and then started to straighten out the perfume bottles and lotions from their scattered positions.

"Hey, B. Sorry I'm late. My mom kept me to say 'good luck on your first day' you know how they are." Serena trailed off, rolling her eyes playfully. No I don't know. I've never known. Mother's never been there. She's never done that. She hasn't been there for ten years, she won't start anytime soon.

"Yeah." I said softly, focusing on the perfume bottles. I glanced at the once-used bottle of Hypnotic Poison and picked it up. Maybe wearing it again wouldn't be so bad. I walked to my mirror and looked at it.

"I haven't seen that perfume yet." Serena remarked, faintly interested.

"Yeah, it's my first perfume, my mom gave it to me wh-"

"Womanizer, Woman, Womanizer, you're a Womanizer, oh Womanizer oh you're a womanizer, baby..."

"Oh, it's Chuck." Serena said, picking up the phone.

"Chuck?" I squeaked, dropping my perfume bottle.

"Blair!" Serena yelped as the bottle crashed into my wooden floor, immediately shattering.

"Huh?" I replied, in a dreamy sort of faze.

"The perfume!" she said as if it were obvious. Of course, the perfume; the perfume that my mom gave me, promising to be there 'next year'. The perfume that made up for ten years of her not being there. The perfume that held broken promises and a million lies.

"Just leave it." I said scathingly.

"Woah, what's wrong, B? We really need to work on that attitude later...oh damn. We're going to be late."

"You go, I'll be there in a sec." I replied, out of my trance for a split second. As soon as she left I looked at the broken bottle again, remembering my days as a hopeful seven-year old, smiling at my first perfume bottle and my first day at school.

"Dorota! Clean this up, will you?" I commanded, grabbing my purse, walking outside, putting on my Dolce and Gabbana glasses, and taking a breath of fresh air.


A/N- Yes, I know that the quote doesn't make sense. This is, definitely, not my finest work by any standards but I wanted to get something out by October. I was thinking of making a quick short story tonight but I don't think that I'll have enough time. Oh well, hoped you liked it! Press the little blue button please!