The Humphrey Redemption

(Thanks for the comments guys. Here is the final copy!)

The stereo played only white noise. There were empty pizza boxes scattered everywhere. Oh god, the bottles, the shear amount of bottles…all fiends from down South: Jack, Jim, Gordon, Jose, and of course, everyone’s favourite Russian companion, lay emptied of their life-force, disregarded, wherever they had landed.

The heavy stench in the air was a mix of stale alcohol, cigarettes and burnt hair.
It was clear that at some point in the not too remote past, this suite had been stunning, luxurious even, with three separate king-size bedrooms, plush Missoni furnishings and floor to ceiling panel windows overlooking the East River. There was obviously something missing from the room, which would explain the TV sized hole in the north-facing window. The bridge that had looked so beautiful the night before, spanning the river and Roosevelt Island, covered in hundreds of fairy lights, was now disenchanting and drab.

Just like the bridge, the apartment now looked distinctly different in the harsh early morning sunlight. The stagnant haze was broken suddenly by a platinum blonde figure who tumbled, somehow gracefully, out of one of the oversized beds. Jenny groped around underneath the bed and pulled her boots free. While fastening them around her ankles and then manoeuvring her iPhone into action, she smirked at the moans of pain emanating from the Egyptian cotton sheets she had just removed herself from.

“Ha ha, serves you right!” she teased the pile of bedding.

“Ohh, everything hurts. And where do you think you’re going?” the faceless mound questioned, while flailing in her general direction trying to come into contact with a body part sufficient to pull her back to the bed.

“You know I have the Eleanor Waldorf brunch this morning, I’m showing my own pieces this time, remember?” she said as she inched just out of his reach.

“You want me to come with you?”

“Well, I would if you didn’t smell like a bar floor…”

“I’ll shower…”

“I’ve gotta go home and pick up the outfits, I’m assuming you-“

“And you would be correct in that assumption. I haven’t even had coffee yet, it’s clearly too early for Brooklyn”

“Okay, I told Eleanor I’d be there to set up at 9am, so I’ll just meet you there later?”

“Spectacular.”

Jenny looked down at her phone and saw eight missed calls from Rufus and a few text messages from Eric. It was nothing new. In fact, eight was a relatively small number of attempts from Rufus, all things considered. He was clearly starting to get the message, and so he should after all this time.

On the upside, there were no new alerts from Gossip Girl – and as always in her case, no news was good news. Jenny piled her things into her carryall and stepped over the debris to the front door, deleting her call history as she went.

She could have called a private car. Chuck would always insist on such a thing. But today she felt like taking the subway, and she actually enjoyed the walk to the station in morning sunshine. The subway was even nicer at this time on a Saturday: quiet, comforting even. She was listening to the last half of ‘Blood, Sugar, Sex, Magik’ for what must have been the millionth time and almost missed her stop. She called in at Bergen Bagels and grabbed a large, black coffee, she would need at least that to deal with Eleanor later on.

She was uncharacteristically early, and so took her time ambling towards their apartment. She poked her head around the doorframe and into the living room of their 3-bedroom loft. As far as she could see, it was empty. Only a few months ago, it would have been only natural to walk into this apartment on a Saturday morning to find Rufus, Dan, herself and any number of stragglers sitting around the breakfast bar sharing waffles and the latest gossip. But today, like the increasing number of Saturday’s before this one, the breakfast bar was bare, and Jenny was able to slip into her room, grab the dress bag and disappear completely undisturbed.

He knew he had to get up. He had lay in bed for at least an hour after Jenny had left, and would be seriously late if he didn’t get up now. Thank god he had a driver. After spending a sufficient amount of time in the shower, ridding himself of the odour of the previous evening, he dressed in a freshly dry-cleaned Hugo Boss suit and demolished a cup of black coffee. A quick call downstairs for a car and he was on his way to the Palace Hotel. He knew Jenny would already be there, and he would make his entrance fashionably late. The car pulled up outside the hotel, and he stepped confidently through the front door. The Ball Room was signed posted “Eleanor Waldorf Spring/Summer 2011 Preview Brunch”. Just as he lent in to open the door, a tall, thickset doorman stepped in front of him, “Name please?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes sir, there is a guest list. I will need your name…”

“Me? Well, I’m Chuck Bass.”