It Must Be Felt With the Heart
IsabelleB.
Summary: Dan needs to write a book. When his family and friends can't inspire him, he turns to drastic measures. Dan/Blair.
AN: This is set during the summer before Season 5. Every couple (Dair, Nair, Chair, Blouis, Derena, Nenny, Serenate, and Rufly) is explored here. So if you cannot stomach it, leave now. Lastly, Vanessa, Diana and Charlie are still lost in a we-don't-care land. Enjoy.
Prologue
Another Muse
His publishers are eager for him to make another.
They love the allure of his book: a coming of age story for the teens, an innate introspective glimpse at life for the intellectually inclined. It hits all the right demographics and the critics marvel over the immeasurable potential for this untapped author. He shows a lot of promise, they keep telling him. But he repeatedly explains to them that it's impossible; he's lost all inspiration to write. His NYU classes lack enlightenment, his personal life in the Upper East Side has crashed and burned because of his book and his family's bond too fragile to continually expose to the masses.
Instead, they suggest that he take the semester off.
He battles over it with his dad but since he's somewhat depressed, and in need of direction, he takes it. That's when his publishers tell him he should consider what they call a 'roving' trip; travel the world with a companion, all expenses on them. It's all with the intention of him finding the next big idea.
He protests, but they insist he'll find another muse.
A Great Time Nonetheless
It's poignant that Serena jumps at the opportunity to travel with him. He's not sure she's the first person he would have invited but he ignores that thought before it can manifest into something else. Within days, they are on a plane mapping their journey together.
He is firm in his decision that there will be no Rome or Paris on their itinerary. By pure neurotic propensity, he's already deduced a non-Blair-related reason for his positioning. She accepts his explanation that those cities have been overly done, but he conveniently leaves out the part about how he's suddenly started imagining his first visits to be with someone a little more brunette.
They have a great time nonetheless.
He marvels in Galway when his hand touches water from the other side of the Atlantic, he teases Serena for mastering the art of funneling, and he skypes Blair once or twice before realizing he won't get an answer.
He would ask Serena about it, but she doesn't really like to talk about her.
He wants to say he misses her too. Yet, he knows it might make it worse.
Serena Thrives, Of Course
They travel Morocco next.
Though he's initially confused by her easy acceptance, Serena quickly reminds him of how fond she is of the sun. He finds it ironic that her only reason for going is his only reason for not wanting to. They arrive and he can't believe how much Marrakech weighs on his soul.
Serena thrives, of course.
It makes sense. She's never been bound by customs and ethics. She's heard of them but they can barely touch her. The same concept applies here.
He instead banishes himself to the night.
They eagerly ride their rented dirt bikes through the desert, visit the Moroccan spas filled with precious oils and eat like royalty on the rooftop of the country's capital at night. On their last day, he emails Blair about his first Henna tattoo and brags about his instant mastery of the Arabic language.
He can't find her email back to him, but his chest feels lighter.
It's Not Happy News
Serena gets him to smoke in Amsterdam.
He's shocked at how much it doesn't trouble him that he likes it. They go to the Anne Frank house on his insistence, and they go to the Red Light district on hers. He hates Amsterdam. Too many doe eyed brunettes, he grimaces. Then again, he's high.
He texts Blair that much, when he receives his new international phone.
No answer, but maybe the phone isn't working properly. He doesn't think Serena calls her anymore, but he can't remember if it's because she found a new best friend or because she's scared to admit to someone she knows that she misses Nate.
It doesn't matter.
Alas.
They shed tears in Pompeii. And while the embodied remains of the dormant town move them, it's ultimately the end of their relationship that touches them more. He still can't write his novel, and she still can't find her path. She still isn't convinced that he can be her savior, and he still isn't convinced that she will be his muse.
He thinks about traveling to Monaco to tell Blair about it, but he remembers that she probably doesn't care.
Instead he goes home.
Rufus and Lily are eager to hear the tales of his cross-continental trip (it has to be amazing, Lily insists, because Serena hasn't returned yet). He tells them what he thinks they want to hear. That he visited all the culturally simulating locales, that Serena is really growing up from this experience on her own, that his return means, even if it turns out to be untrue, that there will be no Dan-and-Serena part thirty-two.
It's not happy news, and no one else realizes it.
If Serena can't motivate him, and if he can't save Serena -
The Upper East Side is Still Talking
He finds himself roaming the streets of New York.
Different streets, different stories - but nothing he wants to write about.
The Upper East Side is still talking about him.
He's stop trying to explain that his book isn't about Serena Der Woodson but he understands it's hard comprehending a world that isn't. She's only given a few mentions, but just like in true form, she eclipses the true inspiration of his book.
He avoids it, by avoiding them.
He hears through his dad that Serena has returned from Europe. Vaguely remembers also hearing that she's return to Nate. Of course, it wasn't without its trials and tribulations. She thinks she's a lesbian first, too much trouble second, and not good enough for him third. But because Nate is unwavering, they finally come together.
He can't wait for the inevitable wedding invitation.
He could have received one already but he's so lost. He doesn't read the news, doesn't look for classes for the next semester and doesn't listen to Rufus about his immobility.
He just walks the streets of New York.
Just One Kiss
When he finally bumps into Blair, he's drowning in a cloud of void.
He can barely see anyone, but she's so bright.
He hates the party.
He only goes to the penthouse because Lily insists that his absence has caused concern. Rufus, Lily, Serena, Nate, Chuck - He hadn't really thought about the possibility of Blair being there; hadn't even phantom the idea of still caring.
He can't decide if it's too soon or too late to see her.
Per usual, she doesn't allow him to make that decision.
"Most people caught in a scandal, Humphrey, use the publicity," she says to him, her infamous snare still in tow. "They don't slump it in the outer boroughs."
If he hadn't been forcibly standing there - extremely drunk, he'd have said something back. As a result, she looks as worried as he looks indifferent. When he realizes Lily's watchful eye is preoccupied by talks of expensive drapery, he bolts in a hurry. It's a safety precaution. He has learned after months of reflection that his insider status has left him far more insecure than his life as outsider ever did. He also knows why so many Upper East Siders seek therapy. There's always someone moderating including him and he really needs to clear his head.
He walks for miles until he reaches Brooklyn; until he reaches the loft; until he's standing right back where he started. As fate would have it, his impromptu walk to Brooklyn leaves him staring right into Blair's inescapable intense brown eyes. Disheveled and unwary, she's exiting a cab just as he decides that his walk to her wasn't really random at all.
"I assume I'll be seeing you at the Christine Burgin Gallery," she starts offensively, "perhaps as the inspiration for one of the paintings?"
He glares at her, knowing this is an affront; it's her foul way of saying he looks miserable. And of course, he has no comeback ready for her because that's how he feels. "You've seen the exhibit?" He responds weakly.
She shakes her head – walks a little closer to him. He has to look down, because her ridiculously pink dress is distracting. "Your sad attempt at a tragedy reminds me I have an appointment on Thursday. You should come," she continues, placing her hand through his unshaven hair, "show the world that there are more depressing fates."
His eyes darken; he wants to immediately love her and it enrages him. How can she not know that she's the reason he's so lost in the first place?
Just one kiss – that's it.
No one could have possibly imagined it then - their lives coming together. But now, it's a half a year later and nothing's different. As questions stand, he still doesn't know if she married, currently engaged, or completely uninterested.
But this time, he can honestly say he doesn't care.
As he pulls her away from the taxi on the corner curb, its then that he realizes he's not her friend, not her fiancé, never was her boyfriend (though at one point he wanted to be), he's just her secret.
And now with this new kiss, he'll become her scandal.
Everything that hurts about this realization is what guarantees that it will happen. They barely make it to his door before they start fighting. He begins to lose track somewhere, but he knows a few things are certain: He's winning their tongue battle, she's losing her clothes, he's losing his sense of balance, she's winning control, he's winning his way in as she's losing her stance, he's losing his mind and she's winning his soul.
Its one hell of a story he writes about her - about all of them.
Want to know how his second novel single-handedly brought the Upper East Side on its knees?