Your E-mail Dear Gossip Girl,I won’t tell you who I am, but I’m in the Remi brothers show too. I really love their work, and I love the picture they took of me, but no way would I let them put it on the side of a bus. If you ask me, S is asking for whatever she gets. And from what I’m hearing, she’s getting it.—Anonomy Dear Anonomy, It’s cool to be modest, but personally, if you wanted to put any bit of me on the side of a bus, I’d be willing. I’m a fame whore.—GG SightingsLittle J buying a huge book on filmmaking at Shakespeare and Co. on Broadway. N hanging out with C at a bar over on First Avenue. Guess N wants to keep his eye on C so C doesn’t spill the beans, huh? And B buying lots of candles in a shop on Lex for her big night with N. That’s all for now. Have fun this weekend—I definitely will. You know you love me, The Star Lounge in the Tribeca Star Hotel was big and swanky, filled with comfy armchairs and ottomans and circular banquettes, so that the guests could feel like they were having their own private party at each table. One wall was lit with dozens of black candles, flickering in the dimly lit room, and a DJ was playing mellow lounge beats on a turntable. It was only eight o’clock, but the bar was already jammed with people, dressed in the hippest fashions and sipping pastel-colored cocktails. Blair didn’t care what time it was—she needed a drink. She was sitting in an armchair right near the bar, but the stupid cocktail waitress was ignoring her, probably because Blair hadn’t bothered to dress up. She had worn her faded Earl jeans and a boring black sweater because she was only meeting Serena for a quick drink before she went home to prepare for her night of wild sex with Nate. And she wasn’t going to dress up for that, either. Blair had decided to meet Nate at the door naked. Her face grew hot just thinking about it, and she looked around the room self-consciously. She felt like a loser sitting there all by herself without even a drink. Where was Serena, anyway? She didn’t have all goddamned night. Blair lit a cigarette. If Serena doesn’t come by the time I’m donewith this cigarette, I’m leaving, she told herself sulkily. “Look at her,” Blair heard a woman say to her friend. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Blair turned to look. Of course it was Serena. She was wearing blue suede knee-high boots and a real Pucci dress. Long sleeved with a high neck and a crystal beaded belt, in blues, oranges, and greens. It was super fantastic. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail on top of her head and she was wearing pale blue eye shadow and creamy pink lipstick. She smiled and waved at Blair from across the room, weaving her way through the crowd. Blair watched the heads turn as she passed, and her stomach churned. She was already sick of Serena, and she hadn’t even spoken to her yet. “Hi,” Serena said, plunking herself down on a square ottoman beside Blair’s chair. Immediately, the cocktail waitress appeared. “Hey Serena, long time no see. How’s your brother?” the waitress said. “Hey Missy. Erik’s good. He’s too busy to call me ever. I think he must have like, eight different girlfriends up there,” Serena laughed. “How are you doing?” “I’m great,” Missy said. “Hey listen, my sister works for a caterer, you know, and she said she saw you a few days ago at a party she was working at a gallery in Chelsea. She said that’s you in that picture on all the buses. Is that true?” “Yeah,” Serena said. “Pretty crazy, huh?” “You are so rad!” Missy squealed. She glanced at Blair who was glaring at her. “Anyway, what can I get you girls?” “Ketel One and tonic,” Blair told her, looking her straight in the eye, daring her to card them. “Extra limes.” But Missy would rather lose her job than hassle Serena van der Woodsen for being underage. That’s the whole reason for going to hotel bars in the first place: no one ever cards. “And for you, sweetie?” Missy asked Serena. “Oh, I better start with a Cosmo,” Serena said, and laughed. “I need something pink to go with my dress.” Missy hurried away to fetch the drinks, eager to tell the bartender that the girl in the Remi brothers’ photo that was all over town was sitting in their bar and they were pals! “Sorry I’m late,” Serena told Blair, looking around. “I thought everyone else would be here with you.” Blair shrugged her shoulders and took a long drag on her dwindling cigarette. “I thought we could hang out by ourselves for a while,” she said. “No one really comes out until later, anyway.” “Okay,” Serena said. She smoothed out her dress and dug around in her little red purse for her own pack of cigarettes. Gauloises, from France. She tapped one out and stuck it in her mouth. “Want one?” she offered Blair. Blair shook her head no. “They’re kind of strong, but the box is too cool, I don’t care.” Serena laughed. She was about to light up with a pack of bar matches, when the bartender swooped in with a lighter. “Thanks,” she said, raising her eyes to look at him. The bartender winked at her and swiftly stepped back behind the bar. Missy brought them their drinks. “To old times,” Serena said, clinking her glass against Blair’s and taking a long sip on her pink Cosmopolitan. She sat back on her stool and sighed with pleasure. “Don’t you just love hotels?” she said. “They’re so full of secrets.” Blair raised her eyebrows at Serena in silent response, sure that Serena was about to tell her all the wild and crazy things that had happened to her in hotels while she was in Europe or wherever, as if Blair cared. “I mean, don’t you always think about what everyone’s doing in their rooms? Like, they could be watching pornos and eating cheese doodles, or they could be having kinky sex in the bathroom. Or maybe they’re just asleep.” “Uh-huh,” said Blair disinterestedly, gulping her drink. She would have to get a little drunk if she were going to make it through the night, especially the naked part. “So what’s this about your picture being all over buses and stuff?” Blai............