AN: I own nothing except the story line.

She was good at hiding it. Too good if truth be told. She knew all the tricks, hell she probably invented a few of them herself. Running water, that was for amateurs. Blair was an amateur at eleven, a professional by twelve. She knew how to play the game and everyone played along with her.

No one wanted to believe it, and she was nothing if not obedient. Always pleasing others and doing what was expected. Lying was her first tongue; manipulation was what she was bred for. And she did them both with such ease; it should have been unnerving to everyone around her.

Running water was what you did when you wanted to get caught. She learned that lesson when she was thirteen. Because people heard the water through the pipes.

Plastic containers-that was how you separated the boys from the men, so to speak. Because no one can hear you when you're locked in your room, purging in a plastic box, wiping the vomit from your chin, as silent tears stream down your face. Your only regret is that you're too good at this and you know that no one will ever find out about your little secret.

So she began to hope, pray even, for a seizure, heart attack, perhaps a popped blood vessel in the eye. Anything that would save her from her silent misery and what would surely be a silent death.

She walked into the convenience store on a sunny Sunday morning, as was her tradition. She needed a week's supply, as always, and this was the only place that would sell it to her.

"It does more harm than good." A pharmacist once said. She laughed inwardly at such foolishness. Couldn't he see it took away her guilt? Because with a spoon full of ipecac, she wasn't the one forcing the contents of her stomach up, it was the chemicals. They were the ones to blame, not her.

She hurried through the store, lest she be seen by one of Gossip Girl's minions. Her reputation couldn't take any more hits. Victory! She found seven small bottles, one for each day. She smiled in spite of herself.

Up at the register, she is anxiously tapping her foot as the man before her buys breakfast. Hurry up! She tells him and hopes that he is telepathic. Apparently he's not.

Someone walks behind her and she subconsciously tries to hide her shameful purchase. She briefly turns to make sure that it is no one that she knows, and almost drops the tiny bottles as Chuck Bass stares at her.

She says nothing and pretends that she didn't see him but it's too late. He looks around her, trying to see what she is desperately trying to hide. The more she covers it, the harder he looks. Eventually she can't take it, as the man in front of her is still debating between orange and apple juice.

"It's fucking syrup of fucking ipecac you fucking asshole!" She screams at him. He is startled and she hopes this will prevent any further interaction.

She thinks she will surely kill herself as Serena walks up to Chuck, along with Eric, Lily, and Bart. Obviously God has a cruel sense of humor.

"Blair?" Serena asks suspiciously. "What are you doing with that?"

Blair gives Serena her most menacing glare, but the blonde does not back down. And now, the rest of her family is staring at Blair too.

"What the fuck do you think, Serena?" Blair finally mutters as the man in front of her is gone and it is her turn. She hands the cashier a hundred and grabs a small shopping bag. She runs out the door.

She runs for three blocks before she can no longer feel her feet. She collapses on the sidewalk, thankful that it is early and that it is Sunday and thus there aren't many people out yet.

She is just about to get up when she hears jagged breath behind her. She turns and sighs when she sees Chuck and Eric panting. Serena is a block behind, her blonde hair visible despite the distance.

"You run pretty fast for a girl in high heels." Eric says and laughs awkwardly. She gives him a small smile.

And then she is crying, hysterical, she is sitting on the sidewalk in a two thousand dollar dress, crying. And Eric van der Woodsen is holding her, telling her it'll be okay. She just nods because she is still obedient.

Chuck watches and for the first time in his life, he isn't sure what to do or say. He wants to be the one holding her and comforting her. He wants to tell her it'll be okay. But he can't. Because he knows that he's the reason she was buying it in the first place.

Eventually, Serena is there, she can't remember when her best friend got there. She's crying too. She runs up to her, and holds her. And Blair cries until she laughs. She starts laughing at how silly this is. Because this is her life, her meaningless life.

"How long?" Serena asks when the manic laughter has stopped.

"It never stopped." Blair says, and gives a rueful smile.

"Why? Why wouldn't you tell me?" Serena begs. She needs to know.

"Because you deserve to be happy." Blair said simply.

"So do you." Serena responds without a second thought. Blair grins, her first genuine smile in years.

"You still don't get it, Serena. This is why I couldn't tell you." And she looks to Eric, who nods in understanding. Some people needed to be punished, and she was one of them.

She smiles in victory; as if her case has just been proven by the fact that Serena believes that she is good.

She gets up and collects her purse and shopping bag full of sin. She turns to go, walking towards her penthouse.

"Blair." Chuck whispers. It is the first thing he has said to her since that night in the bar.

"You're a good person, Chuck." She says with a sad smile and walks away.