Darko: [s4e13] Damien

While Blair and Dan locked horns over a garment rack, Chuck Bass was facing a different kind of adversary across town. Russell Thorpe had moved into the Upper East Side like a conquering general, but it was his daughter, Raina , who held Chuck’s attention. She was sharp, professional, and entirely unimpressed by the Bass charm. For once, Chuck wasn't the hunter; he was the one being analyzed.

"And you're surprisingly efficient for a boy from a borough without a decent dry cleaner," Blair countered, her headband catching the late afternoon light. [S4E13] Damien Darko

Dan didn't even look up from his notebook. "Blair, I'm just here for the writing credit. Besides, I think the editors want someone who can actually put a sentence together without using the word 'peasant' as a descriptor." While Blair and Dan locked horns over a

"You know," Dan said, leaning against a brick wall as they waited for a delivery. "You’re terrifying when you’re motivated." For once, Chuck wasn't the hunter; he was

"What are you doing here, Humphrey?" she spat, the word Humphrey landing like a stain on a silk scarf. "This is an internship for those who understand that fashion is the most powerful art there is. It's architecture with a heartbeat. It’s not for people who think a 'statement piece' is a canvas tote from a used bookstore."

The halls of W Magazine didn’t smell like paper and ink; they smelled of Jo Malone and desperation. Blair Waldorf adjusted her Organic by John Patrick pink shorts, her eyes narrowed at the pristine white desk that was supposed to be her solo kingdom. Instead, she found Dan Humphrey—Brooklyn’s finest export of flannel and unwanted opinions—already sitting there, looking far too comfortable.