12. Lies

In a world where the reflection in the mirror could be deceitful and the sparkling varnish of a glamorous life tries to conceal what is dark and twisted, it’s hard to distinguish between truth and lies. No one is forced to bear the burden of the face or the physical features they were born with, not when you can pay the best plastic surgeons and you have an entire army of stylists surrounding you 24 hours a day, taking care that not a single hair gets out of place, that your make up doesn’t smear and reveal a flaw that might show your humanity. And if the worst came to happen, Photoshop can gloss over any nightmare and turn it into a product for sale.

The boundaries between reality and fiction become blurry when any story can be rewritten if only one knows whose phone to call, when one can make the dullest event sound brilliant and glamorous, when the most obscure secrets are hidden beneath Persian carpets and gold-threaded tapestries. Even notions as basic and absolute as “friendship” and “love” are rendered meaningless when children learn to value their classmates by their parents’ bank account and prenups are signed even before the engagement ring is chosen.

Lies are the mother tongue in their world and Eric Van der Woodsen knows it well.

At a young age he learnt that deceit and simulation could be found not only on a stage, but in his own living room as well. As children, Eric and Serena soon learnt that it was better to pretend that their father had never existed rather than ask awkward questions on his whereabouts. As long as his checks keep arriving with the precision of a Swiss watch, it’s pointless to wonder why he has never phoned them once ever since he left their home, long before Eric could even form a single clear memory of him. The Van der Woodsen siblings also learn to wear plastic smiles when their mother starts to make plans for yet another wedding, pretending that they truly believe this time will be forever and ever. As though they didn’t know all too well that as soon as the honeymoon is over and the suitcases belonging to the man who was supposed to become their surrogate father appear on the doorstep, they will only have left a name and a bunch of pictures that’ll end up in the trash can.

At a home where his mother keeps pretending she has an ideal family when her divorce papers are signed before the wedding dress can collect dust in her closet, where Serena’s “indiscretions” are covered up with make up and secret meetings with the principal so she doesn’t get suspended, where the bandages on Eric’s wrists are concealed with an imaginary trip to Miami, it’s not strange that lies become familiar.

Even though they don’t like it, even though they make an effort to find something solid to hold onto, the Van der Woodsens fall into their own traps over and over again. Eric isn’t surprised when Serena insists that she has found true love and a way to authenticity in Dan Humphrey and at the same time tries to keep from him as much of her own past as she can. He’s not surprised either when their mother swears she will not fall again into this never-ending cycle and then starts to plan her wedding to a man with only one facial expression and a large bank account, a man who apparently still believes in Lily Van der Woodsen’s fairytales.

He shouldn’t be surprised either when he finds himself caught up in the same web of lies and pretence. When he assures Dr. Miller that everything is going great at home, when in front of his classmates he pretends that his antidepressants are just regular vitamins, when he acts as though he didn’t see that Serena is in trouble again or when he gives his mother a smile and congratulates her on her upcoming wedding – one way or another, he is part of the same vicious circle. Whether he likes it or not, it’s in his genes, in the very air he has breathed during his entire life.

Perhaps that’s why when he catches a glimpse of something real, he tries to hold onto it, to build something tangible to oppose to all the gloss and varnish in his world.

Like his new camaraderie with Chuck, for instance.

Against popular belief, Eric is not naïve. He is perfectly aware that Chuck chooses to spend so much time with him as of late partly because he’s been rather lonely ever since Nate stopped talking to him and partly because to him the notion of a family is a novelty and the role of a big brother is one he never thought he would be able to play. Eric is aware of this, but he also realizes that doesn’t mean that Chuck’s interest in forming a friendship with him is less sincere.

He is probably the most manipulative, twisted and unscrupulous person in the entire Upper East Side (as long as Georgina Sparks and Grandma Cece are out of town, of course) but he is also the most honest guy Eric has ever dealt with. Chuck doesn’t try to conceal his true nature, he doesn’t attempt to cover up with sparkling gloss and a forced smile the ugliness around him. Eric doesn’t have to look like he is happy 24/7 when he is with Chuck, he doesn’t have to pretend that he cares about everyone’s feelings, he doesn’t have to hide that he can also be selfish at times. It’s a relief to get away from the image of a fragile but eternally understanding boy his mother and sister have built for him, a relief to be able to laugh at jokes in poor taste and to make fun of the scars on his wrists, without worrying that it might be read as another sign of depression.

Chuck doesn’t treat him as though he were made of glass, he doesn’t look at him as though he were a freak. Perhaps there are times when he is a tad patronizing, perhaps he takes his self-imposed role of a big brother a little too seriously, but Eric must admit that is much more fun to have an older brother than a sister, even though he will never tell Serena that.

Of course that, like everything else in this world, Chuck’s friendship comes with a price.

‘It’s a façade, you can tell from miles away. Didn’t you notice how she looks at him, as though she were looking through him? And he practically asks for her permission to hold her hand… I bet my Piaget watch that they’re not getting laid.’

Eric frowns. They’re comfortably sitting in the Bass’ limo, drinking a Starbucks cappuccino each (Chuck’s with a good dose of whiskey, naturally) and looking through the tinted windows how Blair Waldorf kisses Carter Baizen one more time. There’s such amount of sugar in the smiles they exchange that Eric is convinced he will die of diabetes if he keeps watching them long enough.

‘I thought you no longer had that watch… Didn’t Carter steal it?’

Chuck dismisses this with a wave of his hand.

‘It’s a manner of speech. But look, just look at them. It’s the fakest thing I’ve ever seen since Hazel got her nose job.’

‘Which ended up crooked’, adds Eric, letting out a less-than-kind chuckle. Chuck, though, doesn’t smile. His brow is so furrowed that Eric is almost convinced that it will stay that way forever and his eyes never leave the couple across the street.

The knuckles in the hand that’s holding the paper cup have turned white and Eric hopes he doesn’t end up tearing apart the cup and pouring the coffee on him… Although with Chuck’s current state of mind it is possible that he wouldn’t even feel the steaming coffee on his pants.

‘Chuck, why don’t you let it go? If we stay here for long Blair will notice and she’ll probably get a restraining order against you.’

‘She won’t,’ he replies in his most characteristic self-assured tone. ‘Don’t you realize that this is precisely what she’s aiming to?’

‘You mean she wants you to follow her around like a psycho stalker?’

‘No… Well, I don’t know.’ He hesitates and for the first time he tears his gaze away from the happy couple and fixes it upon Eric, who is surprised by the gleam of hope in his brown eyes. ‘Do you think that she could be doing all this just to piss me off? That she’s doing this because of me?’

Eric knows he’s threading on treacherous waters, because although Chuck Bass might not be someone remotely likely to open up about his feelings, one should be blind and deaf not to notice certain things.

What makes him wonder – again – about Nate Archibald’s IQ, but that’s another story.

‘Does it look like I’ve got the slightest clue of what goes inside Blair Waldorf’s head?’

Chuck has to admit that Eric’s got a point, probably because there are times when not even him can figure out what’s hiding underneath the girl’s velvet ribbons and sharp smiles.

After a while, Chuck gulps what’s left of his cappuccino, which is probably freezing cold by now, and sinks into the leather seat.

‘You’re right. It’s pointless to keep watching them. I’m not gonna figure out anything like this.’

Eric lets out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief… until Chuck turns to look at him with a rather sinister smirk on his face.

‘But you could do it for me.’

The boy straightens in his seat and almost drops his own coffee.

‘Chuck, whatever it is that you’re thinking, I don’t reckon…’

‘Don’t worry, it’s neither illegal nor hazardous to your physical integrity,’ he replies calmly. ‘I just want you to follow them and see what they do when no one’s watching.’

Eric arches an eyebrow. He is starting to reconsider the so-called advantages of having a brand new big brother.

‘And you say it’s not hazardous to my physical integrity? What do you think Blair will do to me when she realizes that I’m following her?’

Chuck rolls his eyes.

‘Blair won’t risk getting a nail broken to punch you. Besides, you’re her best friend’s little brother… and she likes you.’

Eric stares at him, his eyes wide open.

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that…’

Before he can utter another word, though, Chuck opens the door on Eric’s side of the limo and starts nudging him towards it.

‘C’mon, Eric, it’s just a little favor. After all, what are brothers for?’

Dr. Miller likes to tell him that he should be more firm about his decisions. That he cannot keep allowing others to make his choices for him just because he doesn’t like confrontations, that sometimes people have to stand up to their beloved ones in order to obtain their independency. She says it won’t be the end of the world if he ever tells someone “no”.

While he watches the limo disappear around the corner, Eric wonders why he keeps making his mother waste five hundred dollars per session a week just to listen to some rather obvious advice that he will never take anyway.

-

Considering it is a spring afternoon, the weather is freaking cold and Eric is chilled to the bone. He had to put his scarf in his schoolbag because it was way too notorious, and he pulls up the collar of his jacket in a futile attempt to keep the frosty wind at bay, imitating Chuck’s style without realizing it. He could just send Chuck to hell and go home, where central heating and a comfortable sofa are waiting for him… but instead he keeps walking several meters behind Blair Waldorf and Carter Baizen, hiding his face each time it seems one of them might look over their shoulder. Much to his own annoyance, Eric has to admit that the newest UES’ Sweethearts are piquing his curiosity.

They are walking hand in hand, their steps in synch, and at first they look like any other teenaged couple he’s ever seen… but there are tiny details that seem to be off. For instance, the distance between them. Even though they’re holding hands, they walk as far away from each other as they possibly can. On the other hand, they barely acknowledge each other. Blair seems more interested in either window shopping or in enthusiastically greeting any acquaintances they run into, whereas her brand new boyfriend is clearly not the focus of her attention. Not like Carter seems to mind it at all, considering he doesn’t even attempt to hide it when he checks out other girls.

This last detail puzzles Eric when he realizes that Blair not only refrains from chastising her boyfriend for his behavior, but doesn’t even seem to mind at all. Knowing Blair as he does, and being aware of the asphyxiating-possessive-paranoid nature of her relationship with Nate, it just doesn’t make sense. Either she’s very certain of Carter’s feelings for her… or she doesn’t care about them at all.

They reach Blair’s building and Eric ducks, hiding his face while pretending to be tying his shoelaces. He watches them get into the building by the corner of his eye and wonders what he should do next. Technically, he’s already done what Chuck asked of him and even though he hasn’t figured out what’s going on, that’s not really his problem. His mission here is already over.

And yet… Eric knows himself better than Dr. Miller thinks and he is perfectly aware that curiosity might be one of his worst flaws. Serena and his mother would be horrified if they ever learnt the number of things Eric manages to find out just by stopping to listen through the door at an opportune moment. Now that he thinks of it, perhaps it isn’t so outrageous that there was a time when everybody seemed to believe he was Gossip Girl.

Eric stands up and glances at his watch. He knows this building’s security guard better than he knows the guy at the Palace Hotel and he is certain that Dorota won’t be a problem. He hesitates, glancing at his watch again. Fifteen minutes should be more than enough.

He lounges against a wall across the street and for once he wishes he smoked, because it would be an inconspicuous way to occupy himself. Too bad, he mutters to himself, and then he thinks of pulling out his cell. It’s as good as an excuse as any other and for lack of something better to do, he checks Gossip Girl’s blog. He grimaces when he scrolls down the never-ending list of ridiculous rumors on both Blair and Jenny that seem to fill the blog. When he sees an entry comparing the two girls’ new boyfriends something twists in his stomach, something that could be called guilt and that burns worse than ever when he sees Jenny’s radiant smile. 

She doesn’t deserve something like this and you know it, says his conscience’s rather irritating voice and for once he wishes he were like Chuck without any sort of conscience whatsoever, even though deep down he knows that’s not necessarily true.

He fiddles with the cell, wondering what to do. Seeing Jenny’s happiness these last few days has been a kick in the gut and each time he sees her grinning like a Cheshire cat Eric has to suppress the urge to scream.

And yet, you didn’t dare to say anything to her, did you?

He really hates his conscience.

Eric Van der Woodsen isn’t a particularly brave person. He has his moments, like everybody else, but the truth is that he usually hesitates too much before making his move, thinking over and over again about each possible course of action and more often than not he gets cold-feet before doing anything. The few times he did something drastic in his life – telling Blair and Jenny the truth about his fake trip to Miami, escaping from Ostroff Center, even grabbing the razor from the toilette’s shelf and slicing his wrists with it – was always a spur of the moment thing, acting before he had time to stop himself, not allowing himself a second thought… because he knew that if he did, he would never dare.

His fingers search in his cell’s directory the letter ‘J’, and he dials the number without even stopping to sort out what he’ll say. Jenny deserves to know the truth and he’s sick of keeping his mouth shut, sick of chickening out each time he tries to talk to her. He will just blurt it out and deal with the consequences later.

His call goes straight to voice mail. He shouldn’t be surprised, considering his inherent bad luck and that he’s barely been able to talk to Jenny this last couple of weeks. If both Dan and Mr. Humphrey hadn’t assured him that lately they weren’t seeing Jenny anymore than he did, Eric could have thought she was avoiding him.

If she knew the truth, you can be damn well sure she would be avoiding you.

He tries to push away that thought and his gaze fixes once more upon the building across the street. Neither Carter nor Blair have come out yet and Eric wonders whether he should wait a little more. Will he really dare to put into action what he’s just thought? Or will he get cold feet as usual? He glances at his watch again, perhaps to gather some courage, and he feels his cell vibrate in his pocket. He pulls it out at once and almost drops it in his hurry to open it, but once he sees whose message it is he closes it, furious. What a nerve…