written in like two hours, so mistakes are mine. and mine alone. They're are mentions of Jenny/Nate, Jenny/Chuck, and Jenny/Damien please no bashing. It's just not nice.

apologies on my end for really over using the word: smeared. And also for using the C word. I know it might offend some people.

dedicated to: emilyforprez. who writes the best jenny anything in the world. :)

reviews are really really nice!

title from song: breathe in, breathe out by Mat Kearny.


She's a mess.

Inside and out.

A fact that isn't well hidden with torn up stockings and thick smeared eyeliner.

She finds herself short of breath.

It's always at random moment. When she's barking at the minions or sipping a martini or retrieving books from her locker.

She finds herself wanting to cry, but instead shakes her head, and plants a smile on her masked face.

She only allows herself to cry when it rains. (refers to it as a "cleanse")

It is then that she ties her messy hair up on top of her head and washes every ounce of makeup off her face and allows herself to be rid of the mask that adorns her face. (scrubs and scrubs until she feels clean.)

The mask wears away, but she can still feel the breath that's caught in her throat.

She's still gasping, still weak, still short some.

She falls asleep to the soft pattering on the roof and awakens to a tear stained pillowcase.

She stands, shakes her hair out of the elastic, lays out her school uniform on the bed, and enters the bathroom.

It is there that the mask is reapplied.

She is depleted of oxygen.

She becomes someone else and yet she's the only self that she recognizes anymore.

She blinks up at the mirror and sighs.

Breathes- because it's all about survival on the Upper East Side.

"Jenny! Breakfast!"

And she finds herself transformed back to the days when the Humphrey's lived in Brooklyn and she made her own clothes and wore a lot less make-up.

It was simple.

Something her life now utterly lacks.

"Coming!" She calls taking one last look in the mirror before cutting off the lights and going to the kitchen to eat a waffle.

Some things (rare, almost nothing) never change.

She'd thought she'd really jumped off the deep end when she's sold drugs and almost slept with Damien of then of course tried to steal Nate from Serena.

But who knew how wrong she'd be.

It isn't until the moment she blows out the candle in Chuck Bass's bedroom at the sound of Blair Waldorf's voice that she fully understands the depth of the water she's in.

Her make-up may have smeared away onto his pillow case but the mask is still snugly sits on her face.

This is who she is.

The one who sent that photo to Gossip Girl of Dan and Serena. Ruining two relationships of people she really used to care about.

She winces in pain, her cunt throbbing.

And that.

Her virginity gone. Blood on the Egyptian cotton sheets.

She breathes. Although it's hard. Labored like an elephant sitting on top of her chest.

And she can't help but think of how it was supposed to be Nate.

She listens into the quiet, hearing the front door close, and his bare feet against the hardwood, opening the screen.

He tosses her underwear that she hastily forgot on the floor when hurrying to put on her clothes.

He doesn't say a word, instead gives her that smile of his. The one that scared her all that time ago.

She puts her underwear in her jacket pocket and runs out of the suite.

It is only after her brother punches Chuck in the face and Blair banishes her off the island that tears finally stop coming from her eyes.

She breathes.


And surveys the damage.

And it's ruined.

Everything is.

And it's all her fault.

It wasn't like nobody had warned her.

And yet-

she still became this.

An utter train wreck. A shell. A fraud.

Her phone vibrates as she leans her head against the window of her train that's going to Hudson.

She's taken a cue from Serena van der Woodsen about running away.

(Even after al this time she still can't do things her way.)

It's always been a her vs them.

And even when she was them it them vs who she used to be.

She digs her phone out of her purse and shakes her head at the lasted headline on Gossip Girl.

Little J- another fallen UES queen

She snaps the phone shut without reading a word in the article.

She breathes.

She sunk but she hasn't drowned.

The train begins to move underneath her.

inhale, exhale.

It's only a little easier.