Remember that nice boy LA Serena met at the beginning of the summer when she randomly got a job from David O. Russell? Not so nice. Feeling a little Blairness about Serena effortlessly taking over his job, he arranges to have her deliver marijuana to that pee-smelling vampire-knight actor from the Olivia years. She flails a bit, but her cockblocker finally explains to her what it’s like for those of us who are not Serena van der Woodsen. She vaguely comprehends that it is probably very ****ty for us, and vaguely quits or whatever. She ends up getting a way better job out of nowhere, of course, and we don’t ever find out what happened to him — or care — but it’s nice to see her actually think about **** and make decisions, even if they’re really still Chuck’s decisions.
Because meanwhile Chuck is racing his motorcycle around, dating lesbians, doing all the things Kristen Stewart does, to make the visions of a hairless, sparkling Blair appear. He is a danger junkie! Wearing his scars on the outside, these days! Jumps off roofs, rather than just blubbering at the edge of them! Bleeds just to know he’s alive! This Eat Yes Love philosophy — delivered with just enough hilariously tongue-in-cheek smarmy arrogance — convinces Nate to pretend he’s a movie star at this Hollywood party, which leads him inexorably into the bedroom of Elizabeth Hurley, who coincidentally has designs on Nate and the UES anyway. Nate is, as usual, the best.
Except, as usual, for Dan, who gets wind of a Vanity Fair reprint of one of the chapters from his as-yet-unpublished book Inside and must entreat Prince Louis to get it pulled, since it concerns Blair kissing him in the foyer that time. That glorious, long-ago time that she did that. (I don’t know if you know this, but it might be helpful to know the masthead at VF, which goes: Associate Editor, Editor, Department Editor, Editor-In-Chief Graydon Carter, Prince of Monaco. So that’s how he can help with this.)