A solar eclipse catches everyone's attention.

When Serena is hurting - people notice.

An unexpected obscuration of the sun is not something you can overlook.

Even when she doesn't want them to.

The dimmed glow only adds to the sun's allure.

So she runs and hides. Takes cover in the night. A Serena in pain unites with the moon.

The eclipse has people holding their breaths. Waiting and hoping.

Serena dances in pale moonlight.

Fearing that maybe the sun won't return.

Twirling and swirling in determination until her dance brightens up the dark.

The sun will rise again.

A broken Chuck Bass defies logic.

Because everyone knows the heartless, unaffected and wicked don't break.

He knows that better than anyone.

'I'm Chuck Bass'.

Holds it all in.

'I have no heart'.

Covers it up.

Things pick up pace, spiral out of his control.

When Chuck breaks (he doesn't go up in flames…excruciating hurt never combusts) - he becomes proof that not even a black hole is infinite. Chuck implodes.

The sheer force of his demise reverberates through the wastelands of debauchery, leaving everyone breathless.

Chuck Bass has always been one to break the rules.

Nate doesn't shatter. He disintegrates.

Slowly but surely Nate crumbles under the weight of expectations. Sometimes his own. Sometimes someone else's. All while he does his very best not to notice.

Avoids it.

Escapes reality.

He finds himself ground down completely, overlooking things no longer work.

And he is lost.



How did this happen? What went wrong?

So he runs.

Runs away. Someone will follow. Cradling the pieces left of you in their arms. Ready to put you back together.

Always have, always will.

There is always someone looking Nathaniel Archibald's way.

He expects it.

Monitored disintegration.

Blair handles pain like an oyster handles a grain of sand.

She covers it in pretence.

In delightfulness.

In forced smiles.

Layers upon layers of nacre. Exquisite, innocent shine to trick the eyes of her audience.

The grain of sand still aching and chafing within.

Ripples in the surface.

Get rid of it.

A storm raging within.

Cleanse yourself.

Send the grain of sand to sink and drown in the porcelain-framed sea. Rid yourself of pretence and perfection too while you're at it.

Cherish your moments of freedom. Soon the next grain of sand comes along.


Smiles and gratitude goes to Noirreigne for her beta work and encouragement.