Au revoir, Paris! And bonjour, scandal. Summer vacation’s over, and everyone is heading home to deal with the friends and lovers left behind. Let us catch you up on who landed safely and who crashed and burned.
Blair and Serena’s Parisian adventure is coming to a close. Blair has managed to regain Louis’ royal favor after a desperately plebeian date (B eats street food! Okay, she holds street food) and he’s soon whisking her off to a ball filled with such glamour that even B’s high standards are dazzled.
But Blair’s about to face a problem that Cinderella never had to deal with: more than one prince. When Blair spots “Henry” caning it down the street, Serena sets off to track him down. She finds that Chuck has no intention of returning to his life in NYC — in fact, his Blair-spotting has him so spooked he’s ready to grab his French girl and flee to India. When he sends her the deed to his once-beloved Empire, Serena, of course, freaks. But it takes a Harry godmother to reunite C and B — when Blair is at Harry Winston, a chance encounter with Chuck’s would-be wedding ring sends her flying to the train station. Although she claims not to love him anymore, her pleas and her trembling lower lip are enough to trade in his train to India for a private jet to NYC — with his French petite amie by his side.
In NYC, Nate and Juliet have become fast friends, and she’s already letting her facade of being a sensible, disinterested bystander slip. She convinces Nate to take Dan out of the picture by reuniting him with Vanessa — not by killing him, at least, which was what we were afraid might happen from the manic gleam in her eye. Psst, sweetie, your psychosis is showing. Especially at the end. Dude, we thought Juliet’s Dan-Nate-Vanessa-Serena-Blair Corkboard o’ Doom couldn’t get any creepier — but somehow watching her rip their pictures off it while assuring someone that it’s “taken care of” is even worse.
And so Dan and Vanessa and baby makes three, right? Maybe not. Dan, whom fatherhood has apparently rendered dumb as a post, neglected to check the blood type on that birth certificate he signed. He’s not Milo’s father. We knew it! Milo’s hats were too adorable. No one with that kind of fashion sense could be a Humphrey.