The neon lights reflect off the windows of the limousine as it glides down the strip. Blair stares out the window watching the lights blink on and off, advertising alcohol and pretty girls and sin in bright glowing colors. She sighs.

"How many did daddy say have sold so far?"

"About half the house."

Blair smooths the skirt of her tight fitting dress with her hand and stares down at her perfectly manicured nails. Her hair is piled high on her head and heavy, making her neck hurt. She pinches her lips together and shakes her head.

"It should be more. Dammit."

The girl next to her is plain, hair pulled up in a ponytail, average dark suit purchased at Gertz, probably saved up for and put on layaway. The fabric is cheap and part of the hem is unraveling. She's nervous, looking down at the leather-bound book in her hand the back up at Blair. Her name is something equally plain, like Lisa or Mary, Blair isn't quite sure. She was sent by her daddy, another in the long trail of assistants Blair has blown through in the last few months. Blair suspects she needs this job, has an ailing mother or some other sort of sad story, is determined to make this work, no matter how horrible her boss is. Maybe daddy has promised a bonus if she can last a certain number of months.

"He said only half the house, Miss Waldorf."

Blair sighs, feeling petulant. She picks up her clutch and pulls out a compact, flipping it open to study herself in the small mirror. Her lipstick is perfect, rich, dark red. Her lashes are curled, her eyeliner thick across her lids. At her neck is a simple string of pearls, a gift. She looks perfect for her debut. Blair always looks perfect.

"Anything else?" Blair snaps at her assistant, shutting the compact with a click. Not much longer now as they get closer to the hotel. Her assistant looks even more nervous and mousey, glances down at the appointment book and then back at her employer who is staring at her impatiently.

"Um, he called."

Blair says nothing. She knows who called. He's been calling for a week now, sending flowers, even the necklace she has on tonight. She still asks Lisa or Mary to elaborate, enjoying watching the girl squirm.

"Who called?"

Blair's voice is causal, although her heart is beating madly in her chest. This is the part she loves. The pursuit, the coy game of cat and mouse, playing hard to get allthewhile knowing hard to get is far from the truth.

"Mr. Bass."

Chuck Bass. Playboy, spoiled rich boy, has a different girl on his arm every night. Son of the businessman Bart Bass, the man who practically owns Las Vegas, who is rumored to have ties to the mob but no matter how hard the feds try, no one has ever been able to prove anything. Chuck Bass, with is charming gap-toothed smile, custom-made suits and suave demeanor. He's a bad boy through and through but one with enough money to keep out of any sort of serious trouble. Blair feels a secret thrill just thinking about him, but she'd never admit it. She barely admits it to herself.

"Hmmmm..." she murmurs, pretending she doesn't care. Blair returns to staring out the window, watching couples walk along the sidewalk, arms tangled around each other, women leaning too much on their companions, laughing a little too loudly. Ladies in too short dresses lurk in the shadows of doorways inviting customers for a quick and dirty fuck in hotel rooms that rent by the hour. Posters of women dressed in feathers and beads with bare midriffs beckon with wide, inviting smiles. Las Vegas, where everyone comes to let their secrets loose.

The limousine pulls into the parking lot and the sparkling neon sign of the Stardust momentarily blinds Blair, then she sees it, up in lights. Her name. Live. Tonight. They slowly come to a stop underneath the flashing neon lights and Blair takes a deep breath.

Show time.

"Miss Waldorf," Mary or Lisa almost stutters, "there are photographers here. I thought our arrival was supposed to be a secret."

Blair smiles. Not so secret when you have your PR firm tipping people off. Perfect. She opens her clutch again, grabs the compact and does one final check on her makeup. Perfect. She will be more glamorous than Marilyn, more famous than Dusty Springfield. She fingers the mink stole around her shoulders and looks over at her assistant. Everything is perfect.

"Show time." Blair says putting on a huge pair of sunglasses to hide her face despite that it's almost dark outside. Mary or Lisa nods her head and looks nervous. The door of the limo opens and Blair climbs out, putting her hand up to shield herself from the photographers. The sound of popping flashes go off around her. She rushes toward the glass doors of the Starlight, Mary or Lisa close by her side, saying 'no comment' as reporters yell questions.

Miss Waldorf, Miss Waldorf!

How does it feel to be making your Vegas review?

What about the rumors of you and Mr. Bass?

Blair ducks her head as they push through the double doors into the lobby, a rush of air following them, then the doors swing shut and the sounds of the paparazzi are muffled.

"Hello darling."

A familiar voice greets her and Blair turns as her assistant takes her stole and the clutch Blair is absently handing her. She pushes her sunglasses down her nose and gazes over them to find a dirty martini being handed to her.

"Nate!"

Nate Archibald is tall and tan and as handsome as ever. He's dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, hair neatly combed, teeth breaking into a dazzling smile.

"Blair!"

Nate may reek of new money and Las Vegas glamour, but Blair knows he's as old school as her. They went to prep school together, even dated for a little while, and Blair might have thought he was the one she would marry, but their relationship didn't last a summer fling she had in the Hamptons. He headed west a few years ago to make his mark in the untamed frontier of the Vegas strip and now owns the dazzling Starlight Hotel and Casino, where stars and starlets come to see and be seen, where the biggest and best parties happen, where Blair Waldorf will take the stage and make her Vegas debut.

"Nice entrance," Nate says, hooking his arm through hers and Blair smiles at him the sips the martini she has balanced in her free hand, feeling the liquor burn down her throat, enjoying the freedom of having a cocktail as they stroll across the expansive lobby, something that would never happen in New York, heads turning as they walk by, Mary-Lisa trailing behind.

"Daddy said it's only halfway sold out." Blair says petulantly, squeezing Nate's arm. She sticks out her lower lip and fakes a pout, furrowing her brow.

Daddy is in France with his assistant, Robert, vacationing on the Riviera, but he's always looking out for his little girl. Blair told him she wanted to be a star and anything his Blair-bear wants, she gets, so he'd arranged for this show at the Starlight. Daddy had promised her a sold out show.

"It's looking up, doll." Nate says cheerfully. "We're at seventy percent and my boys are out on the strip drumming up some more paying customers. I promised you a sold out house, B, and you're going to get one."

"You take such good care of me." Blair squeezes Nate tighter and tilts her head to look up at him. It's true. Nate has become a good friend all these years later after their failed affair. They step into the elevators and ride up a few floors then step out and Blair follows Nate through the maze that is the backstage of the casino, still sipping her martini. Up stairs, down stairs and finally to a red door with big gold star on it.

"Here it is B, your dressing room."

Blair takes a deep breath. She's been on stage before. Small stages in smoky nightclubs, the lights blinding her, men in the corners with women half their age, wedding rings gleaming in the dark. Nothing like this. It's the big time. She's finally made it. She pauses to stare at the gold star the turns the doorknob and steps in.

She is greeted by the strong scent of roses and Blair realises the entire room is filled with roses, deep blood red blooms on long slender stems, clustered in vases, and as she looks around music starts to play and she sees a small jazz quartet in the corner of the room.

"Oh Nate," Blair sighs. What an fantastic thing to walk into.

"Can't take credit," Nate shrugs. "Not my idea."

Blair's eyes widen. Then whose...

Nate hands her a small white envelope and Blair rips it open and quickly reads it.

Welcome to Vegas.

"Chuck Bass." Blair gasps. It's a truly amazing display by anyone's standards, and Chuck Bass has exceeded anything Blair could have dreamed of.

"When Chuck wants something he certainly goes all out." Nate says and Blair detects a slight bitterness in Nate's comment. She briefly wonders what that's all about, has is there something in the past between Nate and Chuck, but then she's back to staring at the roses.

"Do you want me to call him and thank him?" Mary-Lisa stammers from behind her and Blair turns around and glares at her.

"No." Blair snaps. "Mr. Bass is not going to get what he wants with some roses and music. Get these flowers out of here." She waves her hand dismissively and Mary-Lisa scampers and grabs a couple vases then starts moving them into the hallway. Nate chuckles.

"One hour, Blair."

It doesn't take long for the flowers to be cleared then Blair kicks everyone out. She sits in front of the vanity staring at her image in the mirror. Her skin is pale, her eyes are luminous and she almost feels like she's looking at a stranger.

This is it, Blair. This is your moment. You're a star.

She hears the roar of applause from the auditorium and she hears her name announced.

All the way from New York City, a rising star, a hit record being played on the radio...

Blair stands up. She takes one last look in the mirror. She looks beautiful and she knows. it.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome...

She pushes the door of her dressing room open and steps into the hallway, then turns toward the stage. Blair's high heels shoes click on the concrete floor as she makes her way toward the disembodied voice.

a diva like no other you've ever seen...

She pushes through the heavy curtains and walks onto an entirely dark stage toward the x taped onto the floor.

a voice like an angel...

Blair stands in front of the microphone and wishes she didn't feel so nervous.

Her first time at the Starlight Casino. Blair Waldorf!

::click::

The lights go on and Blair is standing in the center of a pool of light staring at the microphone. She can't see anything, just bright light and suddenly she feels like she's ten and at her dance recital all over again. She reaches for the microphone, clears her throat and...

Blair starts to sing.

TBC