You think you know me. Everyone thinks they know me more than the other person. Friends, minions, brothers, fucking boyfriends; "I know you, Jenny." "Come on, I know you better than anyone."

They all think they know me, and they all judge me with eyes as hot as suns. They think they know everything, because I'm an easy bitch to figure out. Ha, she's just a wanna-be queen, trying to fill Blair Waldorf's designer heels. Fuck, look at her, she's a whore in trashy stockings. People gossip about me. People talk about me behind my back, and people spread lies. Those people don't last very long.

I was once like every freshman at Constance, with wide, innocent eyes and a fresh face. I, too, thought the world rotated around the queen, and I was only the follower. I changed. It's natural; it's easy. What is a change but dying your hair, and cutting your hair, and applying your makeup just so? You can change yourself without changing at all.

But I changed. I had to. What, you think I'd get anywhere with my short, bland hair, my atrocious style? I had to change if I wanted to be anything. And I wanted to be... I just wanted to be. Blair watched me change. She approved, as I grew; she studied my growth. I wanted to be fit as a queen.

I wanted this more than anything. Petty things like boys - even you, Nate Archibald - soared high above my head, because what fucking use were they? Boys broke hearts, shattered bonds. Boys ruined everything. Never fall for a boy. They made the smartest girls do stupid things.

I still grew, though, still changed in unimaginable ways. Each day was a new transformation. I woke up with wiser eyes and lighter hair, changing on the inside was well on the outside. The world watched my metamorphosis, and although they didn't always approve, it didn't matter much. It was... exhilarating, this change. Every day was new.

You, Nate Archibald, cannot judge me.

What are you but a hypocrite? You went through a change, too; don't lie and say you did not. You changed at the Snowflake Ball. You changed over the summer. You changed when you threw me away for Blair Waldorf.

You can't make people love you, but you can make them fear you. That's what Blair told me the night she made me queen.

I forgot this philosophy. Queens loved their country, their reigning area, and swore off men. True queens didn't fall for the knights of the world.

I could've been the greatest queen of the world if I'd remembered not to fall for you. I could've made them all fear me. I break boys; I don't get broken by them. The names fly by, too much to count, of the boys I've broken.

I crushed their hearts and ate them for breakfast. All boys; boys who asked me out, boys who kissed me, boys who wanted me. I tore them apart. I didn't want them. I only wanted you. A queen must have her king.

But you are not my king, and never shall be, for I still must live for my reign. They fear me, now, Nate Archibald; Constance fears Jenny Humphrey, and the rumors the fly around only further please me. You're no one until you're talked about. I am now everything.

You are the child, not me. I have never been such a mere child.

Go fuck Serena, and fuck her nice and good for me. I only hope she tears you apart, and you, too, can break her as well. Break them all. Fuck them all. You don't need anyone but yourself and a minion or two.

Live for yourself, hypocritical little Nate Archibald, you silly fucking child.

I'll live for my reign.