Gossip Girl

Look alive, followers.

It's a new day, and I, for one, woke up in a good mood.

So how about we play a game? Two truths and a lie.

One, you have control

over the things that matter in your life.

Two, the world is a generally forgiving place.

And three, no matter what,

in the end, the truth will set you free.

The answer? I cheated. They're all lies.

Because the real truth is there's no such thing as truth.

There's what you believe, what I perceive,

and what history remembers.

Everything else? A mystery.

The grey area. A drawn game.

And perhaps no one knows the truth about the truth

more than Tribeca's least wanted...

Last seen supporting Daddy DJ's big night out,

our influential ingenue remains notably silent in the face

-of her father's gray areas. -(JULIEN CALLOWAY GASPS)

Perhaps she's more complicit than we think.

Because if she is taking a stand,

-it's to plead the fifth. -(BREATHES HEAVILY)

But you can only stay undecided for so long

before history decides for you, whether you like it or not.

And as far as you're concerned?

Oh, God, it's SantaCon.

I'm history. The record. Your karma.

Is that Gossip Girl?

I, uh, left my phone at home. Can I see?

So true believers, nay-sayers,

and everyone in between, watch this space.

You may not like what I have to say,

but karma's that bitch. And so am I.

You've got to be fucking...

...kidding, right?

-It's speculation. Nothing more. -It's sexual assault!

Even if it is, and I am not saying it isn't,

there's no proof.

It's not involuntary intoxication.

These women admit in these texts that they willingly drank.

Imperfect consent, such as it is,

is not a criminal act.

Not criminal? So what, it's just a misunderstanding?

What would make it a criminal act?

If it crossed the line

from intoxication to incapacitation.

Do you know if any of these women were unconscious--

The texts literally say that they don't remember.

So, if they can't remember consenting, then...

how can anybody say that they did?

Who is to say they didn't?

The fact is, while these morning-after texts

offer a reason to believe

your father may have taken advantage

of multiple women years ago,

only one of them has come forward

claiming as such.

One, as it turns out, who lied about that claim.

To protect a higher-profile victim.

Potential victim.

And none of these other women have come forward.

Not even...

this alleged higher-profile potential victim.

You want my advice?

That's why we're here, Nance.

We wanna know the best course of action for Julien.

You wait, you do nothing, and you make sure that this

doesn't fall into the wrong hands.

Shouldn't she try to get ahead of it?

You know, tell somebody what she knows?

Nobody even knows about these other women.

And it's not your place to tell. It's theirs.

And until these other women come forward,

there is nothing you can do.

I could post a statement!

Anything that you say in a public forum

will be turned around on you.

Okay? I highly suggest radio silence.

Just watch it play out

and don't put yourself in the middle of it.

Aren't I already in the middle of it?

I know this is a lot, but it's for your ultimate good.

Trust the process. -No statements. No posts.

Not online. Not in person.

But I have to go to school! I have classes! I have a test!

This is a crisis. The school will understand.

Listen, though...

I know that it doesn't feel like it right now,

justice is moving.

And if what you believe happened to those women

did happen to those women,

they are watching this all play out right now.

And just because they've yet to come forward

doesn't mean they won't.

It just takes time.

Karma's that bitch? Really, Scott?

What makes you think that little piece of poetic justice was me?

There's a sports metaphor.

I did a little rewrite.

The crew's so blah and academic. It needed a zhuzh.

So I repurposed an old post from the aughts.

I thought you'd like the initiative.

You thought an English teacher would like plagiarism?

I changed some words!

The part about the Waldorf person wouldn't make sense.

I turned the comments back on, by the way.

Part of what makes America great

is that we all have a voice to troll each other with.

Did you run all the way here?

No, I spent my paycheck on an Uber so I could witness

first-hand you taking a sledgehammer to the thing

I care most deeply about.

I know what you care about... and it isn't this.

What? Oh, ew! Scott, no!

You still want a piece.

Now that I'm back in your orbit, I'm on your mind.

Even after I ghosted you.

I ghosted you!

-Hmm... -And I care about Gossip Girl.

I know I got voted off the island, okay? I get it.

I got too close, I have opinions,

but what you posted this morning about an influencer

possibly being complicit in her dad's illicit issues

was wrong and dangerous.

You could ruin a kid's life.

So what? She'll buy a new one.

-Wow! -You know what your problem is?

That I'm an actual human being and not a sentient jockstrap?

That you're here trying to convince yourself

you're anything more than six degrees of Perez Hilton.

You don't care about these kids any more than I do!

You just love the rush.

I know it, and you know it.

We're making gossip great again, Keller.

And you are benched for the season.

Now if you don't mind,

I have to hose my balls off before sex ed.

-(SCREAMS) Sorry!

Oh. Morning.

Uh, I thought you said no one was home.

You needed me to hand off Michael Caine

to the private plane people.

No... that happened last week.

Bri-ssant? -They're brioche croissants.

Sure.

Oof. Aw, this is nice, right?

Three-top back together again?

Honey, we know what you're doing.

I don't know what you mean.

Well, first, it was Rocky's surprise party...

Okay, so I was off by a few months.

And the false alarm of Pops throwing his back out

-during an installation? -No, no. No, I simply misheard.

Lilac and sacroiliac,

they're-- I mean, they're-- they're practically homonyms.

Look, Max,

we know the separation's been tough on you.

It's been hard on all of us.

The point is, Max, it's got to stop. You can't force it.

These things, they take time.

And your dad and I, we're just-- we're on different paths now.

Well, I'd better get to work.

-I, uh, can't be late. -You're literally your own boss.

Yeah, and I am an absolute tyrant.

I get you're disappointed,

but please understand

that your dad and I agree on one thing...

always and forever, our love for you.

True.

I'll see you soon.

Ooh, here.

Take these extra to Julien. Ay!

You know, all that trauma... The girl needs to eat.

What are you doing here?

How did you find us?

I just wanna talk.

Jules, let's go.

It's all right, Z. They have to speak.

Okay, we'll be in the lobby.

Aki Menzies, Road Rash King of the Upper East Side.

Rex Huntington, Queen of doubles tennis!

Oh, you noticed.

What's up?

I just wanted to say welcome to the club.

I know coming out can be rough, and with your dad,

I can't even imagine.

Yeah, it's, uh... it's been a journey.

Now that you've arrived,

a question I've always wanted to ask...

What kind of risky skateboard trick makes you get a scar...

right here?

I got my arm stuck in a pool table when I was five.

I wish I could credit it to something gnarlier, but--

Okay. I'm not actually talking about scars. Obvi.

-You just were. -Wow.