WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF MENTAL HEALTH CONDITIONS, SEXUAL HARASSMENT, DEATH AND OTHER MATURE THEMES.

WINNIE hated to say it but she was a mess. She had more outbursts than normal and made minimal posts, which had her fans worried. Her parents didn't need to question why she was in such a state and assumed it had something to do with Monet. Their assumptions were correct, not like she would ever admit it. She'd rather die than confess that she was rendered emotional and broken.

But that didn't satisfy Margaux and Luc, and to make matters worse the entire family had been called into the Ostroff centre on Dr Anchor's request.

So Winnie was confined between her parents as she listened to her therapist drone on about a diagnosis.

Yes, her diagnosis.

"It's clear that she has been suffering from DMDD – disruptive mood dysregulation disorder since she was a child and hasn't been able to grow out of it due to not learning to effectively regulate her moods or emotions," Dr Anchor informed, sitting opposite the family, eyes scanning their reactions.

"She's had sports," Luc pointed out, clasping his hands.

"Exactly, had. But without that, how has she been? It's been reported that she banged her head on the car window because it wasn't available to her anymore."

Margaux's expression was a picture of revelation. It was obvious she didn't know and Luc had concealed the truth about the departure from their daughter's first therapy session. Even now he avoided her raging gaze.

Winnie scoffed at what she was hearing, she couldn't care less about the woman's explanation or her parent's annoyed glances. She was fine, you're fine Winnie!

"So I need to be on happy pills?" she spoke up with a scoff, ceasing her parent's wordless dispute.

Dr Anchor stared sympathetically, "You need medication, yes, and as a registered psychiatrist I can prescribe you the right medication also. But we will need to add another session every week."

Winnie couldn't believe what she was hearing, she already had 3 sessions a week! She hastily leaned forward, and they all turned to her like she was a cornered animal.

"Why? Do you want to lock me up? I know you fucking do," she snapped.

Margaux tugged her daughter back, mildly disturbed by her outburst, meanwhile, Luc was already used to it.

"See that irritability is a hallmark that distinguishes DMDD from bipolar disorder," the doctor proclaimed, to the Dubois parents.

"I am not fucked in the head," Winnie snarled, shrugging out of her mom's hold.

Luc warned, "Winnie."

"No one is," Dr Anchor countered.

Margaux made a noise of disagreement, "Doctor, please refrain from lying, many people are."

"Margaux," Luc sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.

Dr Anchor surveyed the family and made mental notes.

"I don't want to take drugs," Winnie spat.

She kept shifting in her seat. DMDD, she thought the idea was hilarious, almost blasphemous. She always told herself how to regulate her moods, and how to deal with problems and emotions she couldn't learn from her mom and dad. Tennis and other sports were her way of coping, her stimuli, it was healthy and that was ripped away from her like the tide.

And now to be told that she was fucked up, well even more so because of something out of her control made her seeth, all while her parents sighed at her angry gaze.

"The medication will help you regulate any outburst," The doctor explained but only gained another irritated look, confirming her hypothesis.

Winnie rapidly shook her head, "I don't want them to control my life. I don't need to change."

Nausea gnawed at her like an insect.

Margaux squinted her eyes at the physical reaction her daughter was having.

"DMDD is also treatable with psychotherapy," The doctor continued, turning to Luc.

"Talk therapy is that right?" he questioned, already thinking of the donation he would give to the centre.

"Correct."

"So I don't need the medication," Winnie's tone sounded hopeful shocking Margaux especially.

The doctor disagreed, "I believe that is the best option for you at this moment. Both treatments."

"Then let's get another opinion," Winnie turned to her mom, almost pleadingly.

She never asked for much but all she wanted was her support on this, but with one tentative head shake from her Luc and Margaux slowly turned away and looked back at the doctor, forcing herself not to give in, despite never feeling the urge to before.

Dr Anchor insisted, "Ritalin helps to address emotional reactivity. Since the FDA hasn't found any medication approved especially for treating children or adolescents with DMDD certain medications help relieve the symptoms. Antidepressants too."

Winnie let out a yell, "Fuck!"

"Winnie!" Luc reached out as she shot up from her seat.

"No, Dad I don't want to take them. I am fine."

"You're not," Margaux's tone wasn't at her usual level of judgment, she sounded distressed.

"I am fine," Winnie huffed, slumping down in her chair, eyes going cold as she stared out to her doctor, "I am fine."

___

One ring, two rings, three rings, voicemail. Monet didn't pick up and Winnie felt desperate, begging for attention and to what? Be rejected by a girl she didn't care for a couple of months before. Stupid, so fucking stupid. All the commotion had allowed her emotions to get away from her and now she had to be on mediation. Fucking medication, she would've spat at the idea of it wasn't already happening.

"You called, I ran," Ginny teasingly strutted into her room and shut the door.

"You were driven and thank you," Winnie cast a small smile.

Her friend rushed from school after getting her call, still adorning a uniform mixed in with traces of navy blue.

Winnie didn't bother to change into her loungewear after leaving the Ostroff centre, instead, she bathed, wanting a little hydrotherapy and the comfort of a silk noir gown trailing over her legs.

Ginny was taken aback, "Manners from you, I take it the visit to Dr Split-ends didn't go as planned," the blonde was thrown a bottle of pills, "and I thought Max was bad," she stifled a laugh after being sent a glare. "Ritalin?" She traced her thumb over the label. Winifred Dubois 25mg. "What do you have, ADHD?"

"DMDD," Winnie corrected, gritting her teeth at the diagnosis as she walked over to her balcony and closed the door.

"Sounds like a drug," the blonde commented, checking over the side effects.

"It's disruptive mood dysregulation disorder. The name for my persistent irritation and frequent outbursts."

"But I thought that was just you," Ginny replied, sheepishly smiling at her.

"So did I. Didn't release there was a fucking name for it."

"I won't lie, your parents called me to encourage you to take them," Ginny shrugged off her scowl, placed the bottle on the desk and dropped her bag on the floor.

Winnie scoffed, "You can try."

"You scared?"

"No."

"Pussy," Ginny recognised the hesitancy in her tone.

Winnie groaned, dropping back on her bed, "You fucking take them then."

"Does this disorder become disruptive with fluctuations in relationships?"

"Why?" Winnie sat up, thrown off by the question.

The blonde made a face, "De Haan."

"Fuck you."

"And your parents," Ginny went on, pulling off her heels and placing them in the corner.

She thought about the diagnosis and wasn't shocked in the slightest, especially how things triggered her friend and more especially, who.

"I'll give you a point on that one."

"A pill for every point?" Ginny tried only to receive an annoyed look.

"You want me to change too?"

Ginny shook her head and laid beside her, "Girl you know I would never ask that of you. I like your demented self, makes me feel better about how I might grow old and die with cats surrounding me."

"At least you don't have a whining dog," the Dubois heiress murmured.

"Where is Abaddon?" He was nowhere to be seen, Ginny missed his yapping.

"Being pampered, teeth cleaned, fur coat moisturized and stomach filled."

"I might join him," that made Winnie crack a smile,  "But first. You know pills help," the amusement left her face as Ginny continued, "Refrain yourself from making a remark about me or Max. You want to be in control?" She drew a nod from the irritated girl, "You want order?" Another nod,  "And haven't things felt out of it a lot recently?" And that's thrice, "Then in 2 weeks. We've got Christmas. No one will notice if you're drugged up. I mean I will and document everything but come on. Think of the bright side, you won't have to think about Miss WhoLian is a God."

"It's fucking hard not to," Winnie despised how she felt about Monet, even groaning into her hands and yelling didn't make it stop.

"And why is that?" Ginny pressed, making her stop the dramatics.

"She wants me to change."

Ginny didn't like the sound of that, it was barbaric, "Did she tell you that?"

Winnie rolled on her side, "No directly. But I'm trilingual. Reading between the lines is my speciality."

Ginny matched her actions to face her, "And so is being irritable apparently... too soon?"

"I show people who I am and they're shocked when I don't change. When I don't grow, I mean what else could they want from me? I'm unapologetically me and they hate me for it."

That sense of entitlement to something she's never promised drove her insane. She wasn't good or pretended to be nice — except to followers but even they could see through her act. She was rude, mean and cruel and yet people expected more, different.

"I don't hate you," Ginny reached out and grabbed her hand, rubbing small circles using her finger.

Winnie forced a smile, though her words were true, "I don't hate you either."

Deep down she knew that Ginny was one of the few people who knew who she was and accepted her nature, and vice versa, "But think about it. If someone like De Niro changed he would stop getting random black women pregnant and we wouldn't have people like Zoya."

Ginny burst out laughing at that.

"So are you her actual mentor?" she was starting to think Winnie's soft spot for the Buffalo native had grown to the size of their egos.

"Maybe..."

"But Win, no matter the doses they give you it won't change you, not that much. It'll unlock your potential," she paused, pursing her lips at Winnie's grunt, "Pharmaceuticals do miracles. I know Money Bags has told you that at least once or thrice."

"She doesn't pick up anymore so..."

Ginny glowered at that, how dare she, "Give me your phone," she instructed, carefully dropping her hand.

"You'll block her number," Winnie passed her the phone regardless.

"No, I'll mute her on everything so we can grieve in peace."

"Who are you grieving? Maximus? I thought you and Billy were spending time with each other and by that, I mean fucking in the chemistry lab  —  I cannot believe I walked in on that."

A blush kissed Ginny's cheeks, she was caught with him today by a stunned Aki and Max, the looks on their faces made it worth it, even when Billy didn't relent and made eye contact with them the entire time.

She laughed, "You should've knocked and we weren't fucking, he was just giving me one of the best orgasms of my life. His tongue is a 9."

She passed Winnie her phone after successfully muting all of Monet's socials and contacts. She wished she had done it before, preventing her friend from the heartbreak she faced.

"Didn't expect that from Mr. Bookworm," Winnie joked, turning off her phone.

"He was preserving it for me," Ginny giggled.

"As well as lying to other rich families."

"Which is why I invited him over," Ginny sheepishly informed as they sat up.

Winnie wasn't mad, "Really? So I can have front-row tickets to your next snow-bunny show?"

"Wouldn't that be hot?" the blonde gushed, laughing at her disgusted face, "And he's picking up some Japanese takeout for us. We'll eat and look at cotillion dresses."

"The vintage Versace collection?" Winnie suggested it was their favourite pastime away from the flashing lights and fakeness.

"Wanna match it's only a month away?"

Winnie agreed, "Sounds promising."

Billy walked in 20 minutes later, yelling something downstairs to Luc before waving and closing the door. He was greeted with unhappy faces even after he held up the food bag.

"It's almost fucking cold," Winnie snatched it from him, as Ginny looked him up and down, making him smirk.

"Blame your dad. Asking me a million questions about my captaincy." He retorted, removing his school blazer and placing it at the back of her desk chair, his muscles unintentionally flexed as he did so. His eyes scanned the room he hadn't been in since they were children and caught the medication on the desk, "I didn't know you had ADHD seems far too good for you."

"DMDD," Winnie surprisingly corrected.

She grumbled at the grin on Ginny's face. Why she was so comfortable around Billy she didn't know.

He nodded, coming over to kneel at the side of the bed where the Wellington blonde sat and winked at her. She of course felt his hands trail over her calves, giving her flashbacks of his tasteful moves.

"My dad has that. The medication works, but his dose is low so he can drink and smoke."

Ginny hummed, "See Win and he's an uptight man — total dilf — no offense."

"My tongue has been inside of you," Billy exclaimed, grimacing and rising from the floor to take out some food for himself.

Winnie groaned and gestured to her California rolls, "Eating!"

"Exactly," he chuckled, amusing them.

"Now shut up," she groaned when he tried getting into bed between them but she pushed him back, "Shoes William."

"Yes, Your Highness." He flicked them off and crawled between them, food almost flew off the bed, but luckily his reflexes proved useful.

"You're lucky you're in her bed, usually only girls are allowed in," Tempura muffled Ginny's voice.

Billy sniggered, "Funny, I have the same policy."

A smile graced Winnie's face just as she grabbed her remote, pressing a button so her TV rose from under the bed and swivelled.

"Oh shit before you press play, how was the campaign? Need to post it for our Tiktok," Ginny said.

"True," Winnie mirrored her actions as Billy kept eating, "Look here, they sent me the pictures today."

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(@gossipgirl tweeted)

Heiress Dubois, or Honorable Winnie? Donating all the proceeds of her Calvin Klein campaign to charity, these selfless deeds would put even Mother Theresa to shame. But you know what isn't a shame? Playboy B ogling Miss Wellington like she's a slice of meat, careful now Billy, screw her over and you'll have all of alt America to deal with. Oh wait, aren't they your cousins and friends?

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"You've got 5 minutes, and I never said you could bring a plus one," Winnie instructed.

Zoya and her newest friend Shannon -- Shan, stood in the Dubois conservatory, the former didn't know what to do with her hands, scared to touch anything. Tall pictures hung from vast walls, trained pets lay around, and maids stood at the entrance of the room. Reds and green colours danced around the room, overstimulating the freshman, whilst her friend was hardly intimidated, just mildly impressed.

"Nice house, I'm surprised Trump doesn't dine here," Shan quipped, whilst the heiress Dubois took her in.

"I see, you've got a sassy black friend, cute. You two are one joke away from having your own sitcom," Winnie laughed at her own joke as Zoya rolled her eyes. "You want my advice. On what? As of now, you're intentions have been wishy-washy and I would hate for you to become  my least favourite Halfrican, well second to least fave, just in front of Zoe Saldana."

Zoya's brows furrowed, "What did she do?"

"Nine Simone," the other two chorused then exchanged a brief nod.

"I have two sex maniacs up in my room and I better not find them inside the other when I get back, 30 seconds have passed little Z, hurry up," Winnie demanded.

"Julian wanted my help," the freshman rushed out, earning an amused look.

"You're lucky little Z," Winnie commented, perplexing the younger teens.

Zoya was already exhausted by the interaction, "How?"

"Your dad is a lawyer, not a predator," Winnie pointed out the obvious, "Stay away from your sister."

"She's saying she needs my help."

Winnie's face hardened, "Honestly why you haven't blocked her yet is a mystery to me."

Shan couldn't help but agree.

"Well, it isn't Julian exactly, Monet, Luna and Audrey," Zoya caught the disgust on Winnie's face, "clearly hoping to use my dad's legal advice. I know Julian is staying at Audrey's."

"It's none of your business Z," Shan stated.

Winnie nodded as she neared them, "My advice is to ignore her. Ignore them. I've realised how easily people can cast others aside," she ignored their questioning looks, " And as much as you want to give people the benefit of the doubt, ask yourself, has the doubt ever benefited you?" 

Winnie let her words sink in and exited the room.

Shan watched as the gears turned in Zoya's mind.

The new duo began walking out and towards the exit, Zoya was still overwhelmed by the luxury and beautiful architecture, both modern and archaic. Her faux mentor's advice screamed in her head, yet she couldn't help but feel sympathetic. It wasn't Julian's fault, it was Davis'. But Julian dragged her through the nits and grits of the Upper East Side just for the amusement of her friends.

"I've gotta say, she was eerily wise. But maybe GG is right and maybe she's got a screw loose," Shan exclaimed.

Zoya cast a disproving look, "She's a bitch but she's not insane. Don't joke about that around here, the Dubois have eyes everywhere."

They were soon out of the chilling townhouse and away from the security team. 

"So you're gonna take her advice? Cast your sister aside, brutal, I didn't know you had it in you, I mean I met you in study hall but damn," Shan huffed out a laugh,

Zoya shook her head, "Her influence is crazy Shan. Hell, she even bullied gossipgirl off the gram."

"True but that only means you need to watch your back with her."

Zoya hummed, briefly staring back at the townhouse, "Believe me I know, but would you rather her as an ally or opponent?"

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(@gossipgirl tweeted)

Sister Slay or sister nay, Zoya Lott has been spotted. It seems to me that she's dropped one influencer for another, but choosing her sister's enemy was a move we've already seen before, but will it stick this time? Because luckily, Julian has finally realised the monster she's been living with and kept herself tucked away with friends. But come out come out JC, the truth never remains a secret for long.

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"Want some juicy intel? I know secrets are your currency, Miss La," Winnie said, pushing Billy off of her bed, and forcing him to take out the fast food trash, leaving Ginny a pouting mess.

Luna made a face, as pulled her phone away from her face, "What is it and what number are you phoning from?"

"None of your business," Winnie put the phone on speaker, so the blonde could hear, "but you should know, news outlets won't relent on your special cause."

"This is merely a blip in Julian's career caused by a white cis man."

The best friends rolled their eyes at the response, aggressively so.

"You should get that tattooed," Winnie snorted.

"Oh hush, and I know you give to get, a special someone told me that."

Winnie tensed up, scrambling for the phone, "Anyone could've told you that."

"So I'll get you something. Monet's crushed. Your calling only does so much to help. You're both ice queens. Let her melt by stop calling and she'll come knocking like a love-sick stalker."

When the phone call ended, Winnie turned to a sighing Ginny.

But before she could say anything, her mother yelled, "Winnie! Your father and I need to speak with you."

___

"I did what you told me. Billy is here, wining and dining like he shouldn't be doing that for me and Gin. what's the problem?" Winnie let out a pronounced sigh where she stood in her father's study.

Her mom sat off to the side on a sofa, with a glass of brandy in hand, whilst her father stood behind his desk, keeping his eyes on Winnie.

"You haven't been in contact with Julian Calloway?" Margaux questioned after taking a sip.

"No."

Luc then asked, "Have you started taking your medication? It takes a few hours for it to –"

"I haven't started," Winnie's response had them gritting their teeth.

"Even you're not that idiotic Winifred. Take them," her mother's voice quivered slightly, but she didn't care.

She shuffled back, looking at the door that was now locked from the outside, making her eyes narrow.

She panicked, "So you can keep me drugged up and well groomed for your satisfaction. No, now excuse me if that's all you want to drill me about I have friends to –"

"Sit down Winifred," her father demanded, tone rising, startling her and his wife. "Sit down. Your lack of care for authority isn't a shock, it never has been. We didn't raise you like this."

Winnie beguilingly lowered herself next to her mother, feeling the atmosphere of the room drive a shiver down her spine. She very rarely saw her father lose his chill.

"Because you didn't raise me at all. You watched and Mom screamed," she argued, eyes flicking from one parent to another.

"And with that, you're now spiralling. Correction you've spirally for a while. You have ways to manage your madness and yet you won't comply. That's one issue, but another is loyalty. Where is yours?"

Winnie was taken aback by the question, "What?"

"Where is your loyalty? To me, to your mother? To this family?" Luc pressed, slowly rounding the table.

"What are you talking about?" she didn't understand, even looking to her mom for answers but Margaux focused on her drink instead.

"Where is your loyalty?" Luc's voice rose, causing her to shrink back like a scared puppy.

She squeaked, "To you."

Luc tutted, "I'm not so sure."

"It's to this family," she tried, seeing his harsh eyes as he came closer.

"Oh is it now?" his sarcasm scared her more than his yelling.

Winnie then gingerly bopped her head in her mom's direction "It's to mom."

"That's not right. Is it Margaux?" Luc taunted, picking up a familiar file and now towering over them, "What were you doing in your mom's office on Halloween huh? A trusted maid caught you running to your room that day after going through files. Old files, honestly Margs, leaving them lying around was silly. Anyone could find them and they did. Our own daughter. And what did you find dear daughter?"

Winnie gulped, "Nothing."

Luc narrowed his eyes, but spoke carefully, "Tell the truth."

"I didn't find –"

"Again with the lies," Luc kissed his teeth.

Winnie couldn't help herself and rebutted, "You want to lecture me about lies?"

Luc coldly grinned, staring down at her, "You spend time with liars. Your friends. Your fans. Even those who run circles around that Calloway family. Davis is a criminal, why would you want to be anywhere near those who interact with him?"

"He's not the only criminal," Winnie snapped.

Luc darkly chuckled, "And there it is. The thing that sent you spirally. All your childish outbursts, go on and ask what's on your mind. What answers do you seek?"

"You already know," Winnie breathed out, then shot her mother a pleading glance but she avoided her gaze.

"Yes, we do, because we're your parents and we have the answers." Luc's voice lowered, "The file you saw and wrote notes on in that little pad of yours – the French were a nice touch – so you get to know the truth."

It was then Winnie realised they must've searched her room.

She wanted to rage but terror grasped her more, "You covered up the deaths of 208 people."

"We did," Luc calmly admitted as he dropped the file onto her lap,  "here, get a good look."

Margaux finally spoke up, "Luc..."

Luc shook his head at her, "You agreed it was time for her to know the truth. So she can stop fucking around. And even after that if she is still willing to blow up our family because of the restraints needed to raise her then to hell with it," he surveyed as Winnie read over the words. "So read away little Winnie. Read away and know. That Bart Bass – may he rest in hell – the bastard discovered the truth because of his own business deals out in Mexico and decided that if we didn't cough up some money to fund his businesses we would all land in jail."

Margaux took another sip, to ease her confession, "So we sent it to him to –"

"Silence him," Winnie concluded, eyes glued to the many pages of bank statements and pictures of the fall out of the explosion.

It made her stomach churn, which came as a surprise because she didn't think she would ever feel anything for the less fortunate.

"It helped him," Luc corrected her.

"And what about the families of these people?" Winnie cautiously asked, wearing of sympathetic look.

"Oh, ever the humanitarian Winnie," Luc mocked, rolling his eyes at her frown, "They kept their mouths shut and if they didn't –"

"You had them killed?"

"No," her mother exclaimed.

"Good god we're not that mean. They wouldn't receive the money they so generously get paid every year to keep the food in their children's mouths. You see they benefited from the oil rig exploding, it might've killed an uncle or a dad or a brother, but I heard a few of them started their own businesses out there," Luc wore a mask of pride.

"The explosion was an accident," Margaux reiterated.

Winnie turned back to the pages, "It says the equipment was faulty and that you supplied poor equipment."

Luc denied, "No, not us, the company we hired to set up the oil rigs. Don't be so quick to blame us."

"208," Winnie emphasised.

"Yes, I know the number you don't have to keep bringing it up. And I wouldn't call this covering up a crime. It's taking care of the family. You weren't born what? 3 or 4 years after this and you've been fine."

Luc then sauntered the room in search of a drink, whilst his daughter struggled to come to terms with all of it.

"Doesn't anyone else know?" she dared to ask, looking up.

Luc snorted as he trailed his fingers over his drink caddy, "I could ask the same of you."

"I barely know anything," Winnie stated, eyes tearing away from her father's.

"That wasn't an answer Winifred," Luc sang.

And so she said the truth, "No one else knows."

"No one else knows," he answered her previous question, but paused and tapped his chin, "apart from a selected few."

Winnie's eyes widened with more panic, "What if they snitch?"

Luc poured some bourbon into his glass, "Then we have multiple scapegoats."

"They'll take the fall?"

A malicious smile graced his lips, "Not willingly. And even then if this were to come out, the families that continued taking our handouts and signed our NDAs won't be able to go to court."

"But the family image? Velocity's image?" Winnie blurted.

"Might be tarnished for a month or two before the next crisis comes around," Margaux spoke for her husband.

Winnie turned back to the pages of pure filth, fidgeting with her fingers and rolled her shoulders back.

She was confused because of the guilt she felt, but was it for the victims or the association with the coverups? But she also felt a sense of anger, her father had been mocking and playing with her ever since she stepped into the room and her mother allowed it to happen.

Oh how the tables have turned, positions have flipped and expectations have shifted.

"Why does it say that a few of the injured parties didn't die until after they left the hospital?" her eyebrows pinched together at the number.

117 people passed away from the explosion, but an additional 91 were injured only injured, not all fatally.

"Glad you asked that, you see to aid the wounded on the oil rig, the De Haan's gifted free supplies to them in the hospitals. But they left out a few details about the drugs being faulty, placebo's was the word that gossip girl used."

Monet's parents were part of it too, but she doubted the girl had any knowledge of it.

Winnie pondered her father's words, and asked, "So if this came out?"

"The blood on our hands is also on theirs," he replied with a shrug, coming closer.

"Fuck," she rasped.

"Fuck indeed." Luc agreed, "But of course our right-wing friends, the ones who did the coverage on it, Richard, he helped soothe the carnage, back then the media were planning to execute Velocity Inc. as if several cities don't use our oil daily. Chemicals, plastic, synthetic rubber, all of it, come from us. We are the foundation for this country, several actually."

Her eyes doubled in size, "The Menzies know?"

"Know everything."

"But they're in it."

"And now you know," Luc motioned to her, whilst Margaux down the rest of her drink and got up.

"What about your political career? Won't William find out?"

"Well Will keeps his mouth shut but his eyes are on the scene for any blubber about that side of the business. Good man."

"Ginny's parents too?"

"Obviously."

"Winnie," Margaux said.

The file was placed to the side, as she ran her hands over her face, "Holy fuck."

Everyone was implicated. Everyone. Caught up in the vicious web of lies and cover-ups that were the elite.

She palmed her necklace just to snap out of it.

Margaux tried gently, "Winnie..."

"You need to vow you won't say a word. Dubois rise and never fall," Luc stated.

Like oil, they trampled and destroyed the things they touched.

Luc passed his drink to his wife and then kneeled before his shaking daughter, "Vow that you won't say a word or all of this crumbles, your relationship, reputation, those cute brand deals. It all goes away."

"Winnie," Margaux pleaded.

And the broken look in her mother's eyes was enough to inspire fear that was no doubt already installed in her. Dubois rise and never fall, the mantra looped in Winnie's mind. She couldn't ruin her family's legacy, her future, sure, it was already tainted but she couldn't blow it up.

And so she complied, staring deeply into her father's harrowing eyes, "I promise."

"Promise what?" he uttered.

"I promise I won't tell anyone."

Satisfied with the fear swimming in her eyes and the earnest tone clinging to her voice, Luc nodded and stood up.

"Good," he exhaled with a smirk, "your friends must be going insane, wondering where you are. Go to them and act like this never happened."

"...okay," Winnie found her footing and let each numb step guide her way.

"Get some rest, family portraits are tomorrow. The headmistress knows you won't make it to 1st and 2nd period."

Her timid nod morphed into stiffened ones as her father yelled out to the bodyguards outside to open the door.

So Winnie hastily reached for the handle, not before hearing her parents speak up one last time.

"Goodnight Win," Luc said, taking his drink and placing a hand around his wife's shoulder.

Winnie couldn't bring herself to turn around, "Night."

Margaux mustered up, "Night darling."

___

The next day, she said goodbye to Ginny and Billy who neglected to see she hadn't slept, just kept an eye on her door whilst holding onto the medication she felt compelled to take but didn't.

She was quiet, scarily so, even the maids noticed. Caesar was the first question if she was okay but she kept her answers minimal as the painters set up the scene.

Her parents were already in the living room, the fireplace burning brightly and their daughter wished it spread and engulfed them all.

When she caught her father's eye she forced out a smile, made her way between them, and sat down on the chair in front of where they stood. Her hair was styled with a purple bow, pulling the first couple strands of her hair to the back. Studded earrings and cheekbones were on show, those matching her mother's.

Luc stepped forward, placing a hand on his daughter's stiffening shoulder, wearing a black suit, whereas Margaux reached out behind Winnie and held her trembling hand, showing off her straight hair and a black dress similar to Winnie's only a few inches longer.

The painter requested Winnie turn her body to the side, so her diamond erring was on show and so she did.

The weight of her family's secrets was crippling and yet she has to smile, it's hurting her and yet she has to smile, it's killing her and yet she has to smile.

Everything had to be perfect, down to the last detail, not a strand out of place and not a smile that didn't meet the eyes.

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Dubois.

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(@gossipgirl tweeted)

Nothing is ever as it seems. Behind every smile, every well-crafted outfit or perfect hairstyle are faults and careful everyone's creep out when you least expect it. The hypocrisy with those who want to be considered natural and real when they mould and morph into another person to achieve such goals is baffling. The days of realism never existed, it's been written about, all the grime and the grit sounds more appealing to the filters and the furs. I prefer the days when you didn't have to think about what lay beneath because you just knew. So my question to you dear followers is do you know the real you? Can you see it anymore, or every time you look into a mirror or take a selfie are you vanishing from thin air? We all need to snap out of it before we're replaced by something more sinister, clones of someone else. I'll leave you with that to think about, xoxo Gossipgirl.

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a/n:

i did a lot of research about dmdd, i didn't plan the story with winnie having a disorder, however as the story continued, and i added the therapy aspect to it, there was only a matter of time before dr anchor was going to realise that winnie does suffer from a disorder. look i know it might've been easy to believe she was just a sociopath but no i wanted to pick apart the traits i gave her and looked up various types of depression and when i found this one it clicked. of course, i am not an expert, so if you're suffering from dmdd, this isn't me mocking you, just bringing light to another mental health disorder that i didn't know existed. and if you would like me to add subtle attributes let me know.

winnie's reluctance to take medication relates to why she doesn't like alcohol or other recreational drugs as she is a control freak just like her parents but more strict with what she consumes. in future chapters, you'll see how that plays out. the medication is just a personification of the constant feeling that people around her want her to change, like monet who wasn't present in this chapter, i did that for effect to shine a light on her other relationship dynamics.

her parents are probably the most dangerous people in her life, terrifyingly so. every time you think they're acting in her best interest or being decent they drag you back to reality. they aren't good people and aren't raising a good person and in turn, you see how winnie is made to fully understand what she already knows. the dubois are monsters. and here you saw the way luc can snap, similar to marguax but slightly worse. showcasing the dirty side of the de haans, van der bilts, wellingtons and the menzies.

another winnie x zoya interaction with shan. shan was clearly just another diversity hire who i introduced a couple of chapters before. i appreciate the writers making her a black pretty rich girl but they did not care about her at all, which isn't surprising because they didn't care for monet. zoya is like winnie's kid at this point and i do hope to alter some more of zoya's story.