The security guard recognizes him at once and lets him in. As for Dorota, a lucky twist of fate favors him so she doesn’t see him enter the penthouse. Eric manages to go all the way upstairs without being seen and when he reaches Blair’s bedroom he stops on his tracks, until he sees that the door is ajar and his confidence returns to him. Blair might be many things but save for the occasional night at Victrola, exhibitionism is not one of her traits, so whatever she and Carter are doing in there in the very least they’ll have their clothes on.

He walks in without knocking and stops dead on his tracks, stunned. Carter and Blair are in opposite sides of the room, he is watching TV while she sits in front of her computer typing really fast. They don’t look at each other or speak at any rate, as though they didn’t even know the other one was there at all.

‘Er… Blair?’

Both of them turn to look at him, Blair’s eyes widening in surprise, Carter looking indifferent.

‘Eric! What a… surprise. How are you?’

‘Er… fine, thanks. And you?’

‘Perfectly fine.’

A definitively awkward silence settles between them. Blair turns her chair so her back is at the computer and she can focus her attention on Eric, her hands crossed on her lap. There’s an expectant look in her eyes and he is startled when he realizes that she’s surely expecting an explanation regarding his presence in her room.

‘Um… Can I have a word with you?’

‘Sure’, replies Blair, clearly intrigued. She looks at Carter for the very first time and her voice is overdosed with saccharine when she says: ‘Honey, would you mind…?’

‘Of course not,’ he answers automatically. ‘I gotta see my father anyway, so…’

‘Oh, sure, don’t make him wait. See you tomorrow?’

‘Sure, sure,’ he says as he gathers his stuff. ‘Call you later.’

Eric makes a mental note when he sees that Carter doesn’t kiss Blair goodbye and she doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t know how Chuck will interpret it, but he’ll certainly love to hear about it. He snaps back into reality when he sees that Blair is growing impatient and, in a fit of panic, Eric blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

‘I’m worried over Serena.’

This definitely gets Blair’s full attention, and he feels an inconvenient pang of guilt when he sees the concern on her face.

‘What happened? Is she in trouble again?’

‘I… I’m not sure,’ Eric admits, sitting on the edge of her bed. ‘It’s just that a couple of weeks ago she began to act all weird, remember? She even lost the SATs and she’d been studying for entire weeks…’

Blair looks pensive.

‘Yes, that was quite odd. I mean, if we were talking about Serena b.C,’ Eric recognized the term “b.C” as “before Connecticut”, where his sister ran away to when she decided to lock herself up in a boarding school, ‘I wouldn’t have been so surprised. I’d thought she had gone for some drinks the night before and the hangover was too strong for her to sit for the exam, but…’

‘Serena doesn’t do that kind of stuff anymore,’ Eric finishes and she nods.

‘Maybe she got in a fight with Cabbage Patch… No, he didn’t know what was up with her either.’ Blair bites her lip and fixes the ribbon on her head, which was perfectly in place before she touched it. ‘To be honest, I’ve no idea. But she’s back to normal now, isn’t she?’

‘Well… yeah,’ Eric admits reluctantly. Blair gives him a smile.

‘Then whatever this was about has already vanished.’ She leans forward to place a hand on his knee and her tone turns almost motherly. ‘I promise I’ll keep an eye on her, but I don’t think there’s anything you should worry about, okay?’

‘Thanks, Blair,’ he says, feeling like crap. Blair straightens in her seat and after a while, she frowns.

‘That was it, Eric? Or is there something else you wanted to tell me?’

Too late he realizes that he’s remained sitting still on her bed instead of making his exit in time. The girl’s brown eyes dig into his as though they were Zonds trying to pass through his skull to see what’s underneath. Eric tries his best not to swallow and he lets escape the first thing that comes to his lips:

‘Well, it’s … It’s Jenny.’

He knows it’s a colossal mistake even before Blair stiffens and her expression turns as closed off as a security vault’s door. The war over the Met steps and the Constance Billards’ throne has turned ruthless and also bizarre since Gossip Girl’s blog became the latest battlefield. Serena has already warned him that it’s pointless trying to make Blair see reason, as the girl blames – perhaps not without good reason – Jenny for her fall from grace. Eric knows this, as he also knows that meddling will do him no good, that there’s a good reason he avoids confrontations when he can… and yet, maybe because it hasn’t left his thoughts during the entire week, perhaps because his guilt makes him feel like he owes her something, Eric raises his chin and says:

‘I think you’re making a mistake, Blair. Jenny is not… Jenny wasn’t born to deal with the UES’ lifestyle.’

Blair raises her eyebrows and her lips curve into a slightly sinister smirk, but Eric’s been living long enough under the same roof as Chuck Bass and he’s not easily intimidated.

‘No one doubts that, Eric. That’s why I want to send her back to where she belongs: the bottom of the food chain, right next to Wal-Mart’s sales.’

‘That’s not what I meant, Blair,’ he replies, standing on his feet to start walking around the room, perhaps because he feels nervous, perhaps because he is annoyed or maybe just fed up. ‘I mean that she isn’t like the rest of the girls at Constance Billards, like the boys at St. Jude’s or even our parents. She wasn’t raised like them, learning to lie before being able to speak properly, she wasn’t taught to scheme when she was at kindergarten or to backstab her classmates at elementary school.’

He passes a hand through his hair, messing it more than usual and pulls at the cuffs of his shirt, an unconscious gesture he acquired during his stay at the Ostroff Center even though there are no longer any bandages to hide.

‘She’s different, Blair. Maybe Jenny started this, maybe not, I don’t know, but I’m sure she has no idea what she’s getting herself into. She wasn’t born for this, she… She is not like you or me.’

Eric, tired of walking around aimlessly, sinks into the edge of the bed again. He’s out of breath and there’s a whirlwind running through his head after this bout of unexpected honesty, after finally admitting out loud that even though it bothers him, he’s just like Blair and everyone else.

When she finally deigns to speak, Blair’s voice could easily cut through steel and pulverize it.

‘Do you really believe that, Eric? Do you really think that Jenny is not as capable of cheating and betraying as any of us? Let me tell you something, and for the record I’m only bothering to do this just out of concern for your well-being.’

At these words Eric looks up, incredulous, but Blair is absolutely serious, her body stiff, her lips pressed into a tight line, her face somber.

‘Jenny is willing to do anything just to climb up the social ladder, Eric. She doesn’t care whether she has to lie or walk over someone else if she can get what she wants. I know her type well, and there’s nothing they won’t do in order to win, don’t let her deceive you with her goody-goody smile.’

‘And yet,’ Eric replies, his voice frigorific, ‘I can’t picture Jenny making up a fantasy relationship just to score a few popularity points at school.’

His are words spoken at random, a shot in the dark that has no more basis than the paranoid suspicions provoked by Chuck’s jealously… words that manage to hit the target all the same because Blair flinches. A millisecond later she’s composed herself, but they both know it’s already too late. They stare at each other for a moment, until dawning comprehension shines in the girl’s brown eyes.

‘Chuck sent you, didn’t he?’

He could lie. He could make up another excuse, he could just deny it or turn around and leave without providing the satisfaction of an answer. But Eric is sick, though, sick of the tangled web his life has been reduced to, a web in which each thread is a different lie that twists and entangles with all the others.

‘Why do you ask me what you already know? Is it not because of Chuck that you’re putting up this charade?’

It’s the first time Blair doesn’t hold his gaze, instead, she turns her chair and fixes her eyes upon the computer screen.

‘Chuck Bass is not my main concern.’ She starts to type something when Eric snorts. Her fingers stop moving and she deigns to glance over her shoulder, looking incredulous like every time anyone dares to challenge her. ‘You don’t believe me?’

Eric shrugs and stands up.

‘To be honest, it’s rather hard to do so but, you know what? I don’t care. You can keep tearing each other apart as much as you like. See you, Blair.’

He’s almost reached the elevator’s doors when Blair, now standing on the stairs, an inscrutable expression on her face, stops him.

‘It wasn’t me who started this, Eric.’

She doesn’t specify whether she’s talking about either Jenny or Chuck but it doesn’t really matter.

‘I know that, Blair but, don’t you think it’s better to put an end to it before…?’

He doesn’t end the sentence because he can find his answer in Blair’s hardened eyes. Tired, he waves his hand goodbye and steps into the elevator. For a fleeting instant before the elevator’s doors shut close, Eric could swear that he sees the girl’s cool façade waver… or perhaps it’s merely his imagination.

-

Apparently Chuck is too excited over his father’s upcoming bachelor party in Monte Carlo and he doesn’t seem to pay much attention when Eric tells him a shortened version of his conversation with Blair. He goes from one place to another bossing his valet around, telling him the precise way he wants his designers suits placed inside the suitcase, looking for his missing sunglasses or regretting aloud that Lily didn’t grant Eric permission to go with them. Eric himself doesn’t feel that much regret. He’ll miss Chuck a little, sure, but he won’t miss Bart so much and anyway, he suspects that the kind of fun that his stepbrother hopes to find in Monaco is really not his thing.

Only when the valet has left the room to pick up one more suit from the dryers, Chuck distractedly begins to organize his passport and documents and asks in an almost nonchalant manner:

‘So, she didn’t deny that it was all a charade, did she? And you said they weren’t even making out when you walked into her bedroom?’

Eric sighs and confirms it once more. Chuck lets out a malicious chuckle, without looking up yet.

‘Always knew that Carter Baizen was a moron. If I were with Blair Waldorf in her bedroom, you can bet we wouldn’t be watching TV…’

When he realizes what a dangerous turn this conversation is taking, Chuck abruptly falls silent. He risks one glance at Eric by the corner of his eye, who keeps his face neutral, and looking somewhat relieved Chuck starts talking about all the women he expects to bed in Monaco. Eric nods at appropriate intervals, perfectly aware that even when he’s miles away Chuck will find the time to check Gossip Girl’s blog obsessively, looking for any sign of Blair, and that none of the women he likes to brag about will have brown curls or ruby lips.

-

Chuck leaves even though his presence is still felt in the daily phone calls Serena and Eric get. They can’t help but burst into laughter when they see that they’ve gotten yet another call from him, and their laughter tries to conceal all the things none of them wants to say aloud. The Van der Woodsen siblings know that the fantasy of a Norman Rockwell family that Chuck’s has built in his mind – assuming, of course, that good old Norman ever painted families that lived in penthouses and had a fondness for botox and whiskey – is meant to crash and burn because they have already walked down this road before and they know how the story ends once divorce papers are signed. Perhaps because for once they see Chuck excited over something that’s neither illegal nor immoral they don’t have the heart to crush his childish fantasy of family meals a la Ingalls, perhaps because they also need to believe that this time they’re building a relationship over something more solid than their mother’s sentimental swings. In any case, even Serena obliges when Chuck decides to act as the older brother (even though she was born two months before him) and Eric realizes that Chuck’s concern over her has something to do with his sister’s weird behavior a few weeks ago. It should be odd the relief he feels at knowing that, whatever it is that happened to Serena, their stepbrother is aware of it and is willing to lend her a hand. It should be odd, but it’s not, because Eric has learnt that despite his many flaws, there are certain things one can implicitly trust Chuck Bass with.

Not only for Serena does Chuck find time to worry while he’s supposed to be having fun in Monaco. Strangely enough – or perhaps not, because Eric should have realized that he can’t fool him as easily as everybody else – Chuck doesn’t ask him about Blair; instead, he wants to know how Eric himself is doing and there’s real concern in his voice.

‘Are you sure you’re alright? Because you sound quite weird and you didn’t look very well those last few days I was in New York.’

Eric is surprised that with his paranoid obsession with Blair and Baizen Chuck managed to notice that the world around him kept turning, but maybe he should start to give him a little more credit. No matter how self-absorbed he might be, Chuck has always been sharper than Serena and perhaps Eric should consider it the next time he attempts to hide something from him.

‘I… I didn’t think you’d noticed. You didn’t say anything.’

Eric could swear that he can almost see Chuck shrug at the other end of the line and with an ocean among them.

‘I figures that if you wanted to talk about it, you would.’

And that’s why the relationship between Eric and Chuck is so incredibly simple when they live in a fucked-up world.

‘Is it about the boy from Ostroff? Because, well, that’s not exactly my area of expertise…’

Eric can feel how his cheeks start to incinerate and is deeply grateful that Chuck can’t see him, although to be honest his stepbrother sounds as uncomfortable as he feels.

‘Look, if you want to get your revenge, I can think of something… Although I’d rather you waited for me to come back before taking any actions. Scheming is just not your thing. No offense.’

‘None taken, don’t worry’ Eric replies, his lips curving into a smile that vanishes at once when a familiar limo stops in front of the school’s entrance steps. The door opens to reveal Jenny Humphrey, looking more radiant than ever. ‘Don’t start with the scheming just yet, I think… I think I can handle this on my own.’

‘Are you sure?’ Chuck asks, and it’s not that hard for Eric to imagine him with a glass of scotch in one hand, a girl on his lap and his right eyebrow arching.

‘Sure,’ says Eric through gritted teeth as he watches, along with the entire student body, how on the entrance steps Jenny and Asher share a kiss as Hollywood-esque as the one Blair and Carter are sharing against a pillar.

He says goodbye to Chuck and closes off his cell more forcefully than necessary, bile burning in his throat when Jenny kisses Asher goodbye one last time and runs towards her friends, who surround her at once as though she were their queen bee. Asher doesn’t get into the limo immediately, a colossal mistake because when he looks up his gaze meets Eric’s. His eyes only widen slightly in surprise, and the asshole has the nerve to wave in his direction.

Eric thinks of himself as a tolerant kind of person. He’s probably not as tolerant as his mother and Serena seem to believe when they say that he’s incapable of getting angry or holding a grudge, but tolerant nonetheless, never prone to anger or rage. When he turns around and walks in long strides towards Jenny, though, it’s a miracle that none of his veins explodes and stains the floor with the red that invades his thoughts.

He doesn’t even ponder on what he’ll tell Jenny, how he’ll manage to tell her the truth without hurting her. He’s sick, sick of mirrors and screens, of white lies that cut deeper than razors and sick of the glossy make-up used to cover up the putrefaction underneath. The last thing he ever wanted was to cause Jenny any harm, but he has to pull off the veil that covers her eyes before it’s too late, before she discovers on her own the deceiving structure on which relationships in the UES are built.

Eric doesn’t want to admit that Blair Waldorf is right, but when a giggle and a ridiculous theory escape Jenny’s lips, when she turns her back to him after throwing a ‘call me back later, OK?’ over her shoulder, he is forced to admit that even though she wasn’t born for deceit and simulation, Jenny Humphrey has already learnt to fool herself with the same skill as any UES-sider.

Too upset to remain standing there, putting up with the stares and giggles he receives from Jenny’s new clique, Eric turns around and runs down the entrance steps. Several people glance at him with curiosity and if he looked up he would see how Blair pushes Carter away to look at him with concern; he would see Dan Humphrey striding across the courtyard and walk a few meters behind him. He doesn’t look up and he doesn’t see either of them.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do next and he doesn’t care. He’s never skipped school before but he can’t stay another second in that place.

He hasn’t even turned around the corner when he feels a strong grip on his arm and before he can react, his back is pressed against the cold wall, there’s a pair of sickeningly familiar eyes staring at him and he can feel his warm breath on his face, a few centimeters away from his.

‘You didn’t reply any of my messages.’

And what did you expect, asshole? As though the pretty charade of a normal couple he’s putting up wasn’t bad enough, he also had the great idea of singling out Eric’s best friend as his co-star. No, that’s not adding insult to injury at all. Eric doesn’t tell him that, because he doesn’t want to admit that underneath his fury there’s also a piercing ache and why not, jealously as well, because he never said he was any better than Chuck and a fake love affair doesn’t hurt any less.

‘Aren’t you worried that someone might see us? It’s a public place and if I’m not mistaken you’ve got a girlfriend.’

Perhaps he should say to his credit that Asher doesn’t even attempt to look over his shoulder at the people walking down the street, but Eric is not willing to grant him anything. He tries to push him away, but Asher is not willing to let his prey escape and when he leans forward to kiss him, perhaps Eric is forced to admit that this is not about physical strength, because his own will seems to have fallen to the sewers.

In a world where nothing and no one is what they seem to be at a first glance, where people make a solid effort to paint a beautiful fiction over what is already rotten, it’s hard to distinguish what’s real from what’s fake. Eric experiences an unexpected clarity when he realizes that each lie is not just a thread of a web that gets more and more tangled, but that lies are also strong chains that tie and shatter everyone he knows – his mother, Serena, Asher, Chuck, Blair, Carter and even Jenny.

And he also realizes that, even though he hates it, even though it horrifies and disgusts him, he is as tangled and shackled by his own chains as any of them.