Disclaimer: All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.
Hey guys! I don't know how many people will read this but I thought I would try something a little different, so I decided to write a gossip girl fanfic.
This is be a Blair/Chuck fan fiction, with some others couplings throughout.
It is M rated.. Mostly because I curse way too much. I tried to tone it down in this chapter but a few slipped through the net.
There will be Season 4 spoilers throughout, so if you don't want to know, don't read.
This story takes place five years after the events on Season 3. Chuck never returned to New York and no one has heard from him. The last time Blair saw him was the confrontation between Chuck, Blair, Jenny and Dan in Season 3.
The rest is pretty self-explanatory.
This chapter isn't perfect, I think there is too much dialogue and not enough description but I wanted to post it as soon as possible. I may rewrite it later on.
Also, as a side note, there is a little French in this chapter. My knowledge of the language is limited, I only took a year of French in high school and chose Russian instead. So unless Blair ends up meeting a rich Russian guy, I'm going to have to rely on online translators.
So anyway, enjoy! :D
Blair POV
"You do know what day it is, don't you Serena?" I asked my best friend as she flitted around my room looking for my Louboutin peep-toes, flicking her long blonde hair over her shoulder sporadically with annoyance. Serena van der Woodsen is my nearest and dearest friend. I love her like a sister. She may be tall, blonde and totally irresistible to everybody, but that doesn't mean I am jealous of her at all. Serena was always the calm to my insanity, the whore to my bitch. People – men in particular – always favored her because she was slightly less neurotic than me and a hell of a lot easier. Nevertheless ultimately, I love that high class hooker to death.
"I do indeed, Blair. It's Friday, which means we have to spend the day finding dresses for the annual tree-frog benefit tonight."
Yeah right, as if I don't have a million and a half unworn Eleanor Waldorf originals hanging in my closet.
Besides, the seemingly inconspicuous side glance gave her away.
"You know that's not what I mean, S. If you're going to try and defect my question, at least put the effort in to do it properly." She really was the worst liar in the world. She regularly forgets I know all her tells.
"B, I really have no idea what you're talking about."
Again with the side glance!
"It's the 22nd of May. Five years. FIVE FUCKING YEARS!" I rarely cursed, it's not socially acceptable for a lady in the public eye to behave in such a way, but this particular topic got me riled up.
Serena sighed and sat down on my bed. "I thought as much. B, you've got to stop pining. You said so yourself- it's been five years. Aren't you over him by now?"
I thought about this for a millisecond. Was I over him? I honestly couldn't tell, which in itself worried the hell out of me. Chuck was always the one obsessed with me – not the other way around. Of course, I couldn't tell anyone that.
"Yes, I'm completely and totally over the Bass-hole," I retorted indignantly. "It just might help me sleep a little easier at night if I knew he was okay. He disappeared without a trace, S. I need closure."
"I understand but maybe you have to come to terms with the fact that he may never come back. It's time you moved on, you can't keep going on like this."
That was the worst. The pity everyone gave me when the C-word was mentioned.
CHUCK
"I can and I will. I'm Blair Waldorf, he can't escape me forever." I replied with certainty. If there was one thing I knew without a trace of doubt, it was that.
"He's done a pretty good job of it so far! It can't be easy to go undetected for five whole years, especially when you're Chuck Bass. Maybe he just doesn't want to be found." She said, as it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"So I'm just expected to roll over and play dead? You should know by now - that's not how I do things." I mean really, who does she think I was? Mother-fucking-Theresa?
"What is the big deal? You didn't exactly end on the best of terms. You can't honestly say that if he did come back, you would forgive him with open arms, because that, Blair, would be a lie. You would play some silly little game with each other, each trying to hurt the other more and ultimately it would end up in mutual destruction. I love you both, but you're poisonous together."
"Don't you think I know that? We weren't perfect, I know, but we were perfect for each other. Everyone could see it. Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck. We could even join our names together like Bennifer or Brangelina. We could be Bluck!"
"-or Chair?"
"See? Even our names were compatible. Not everyone has that, you know? I mean - take you and Nathaniel for example. What would you be? SereNate?"
"Okay, that's just weird. But Blair, he doesn't want to see you."
"How would you know? It's not like you've spoke to him in five years either."
"B..."
She wouldn't, would she?
SHE TOTALLY FUCKING WOULD!
"I know that look on your face, you lying whore. You've spoken to him, haven't you?"
How could she do that to me?
"He may have called for Lily a few times."
Lily? Sure, and don't forget that pigs can fly and I'm the Queen of England.
"...and you didn't think to tell me this? You are the world's worst best friend. All this time, I was worried that he may be lying in a ditch somewhere and you've known all along!"
"He asked me not to tell you." She stated as if that explained everything.
"Mother-Chucker," I muttered to myself before continuing my tirade. "You know what Serena? You go run off to Chuck, you can be all buddy together and drink hot cocoa -or whatever poor people do for fun- and laugh about how you both fooled Blair Waldorf into thinking that either of you ever actually cared." And with that I stormed off down 5th Avenue to the only place that could cheer me up now, Tiffany's.
RING RING… RING RING…
"Yeah?" The voice finally answered. What an ass.
"Carter Baizen?"
"Who's asking?"
"It's Blair Waldorf. You owe me a favour."
Voicemail received, 9.35am.
"Blair, I know it's early and you're probably still asleep but I'm on my way over with croissants and a copy of 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'. We need to talk."
Oh great, the she-devil will be here any minute.
Ping!
Huh, that was freaky.
"I must have totally blanked on the part where I invited you over." I muttered sarcastically as the elevator doors opened to reveal my annoyingly stunning best friend. Over the years, we've fallen out more times than I can remember -not a day goes by without a heated argument- but strangely, that's how we worked. It was a love-hate relationship.
"I invited myself. We need to talk this out." Sigh… Stubborn Serena. It gets old quickly.
The only problem with living in the penthouse is that there's no front door to slam in the face of unwanted guests. And believe me; I was in the mood for some slamming.
"There's nothing to talk about. You're a liar."
Serena blanched at my direct statement, which made me feel a little better. Unfortunately, she recovered quickly. "Technically, I didn't lie to you. I just withheld the truth."
To-may-to. To-mah-to.
"IT'S THE SAME THING!" Surely she could see that. She wasn't that stupid. Then again - this was Serena van der Woodsen. She wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the shop.
"Not it's not. And in my defense, I thought it was for the best."
"Of course you did. You're just a regular good Samaritan."
"You know, there's nothing wrong with keeping a secret if the truth is gonna hurt someone."
"THERE IS IF IT'S ME! ...if it's your best friend." Valid argument if you ask me.
"I know - which is why I want to make amends."
Okay, now she's got my attention and she knows it. I sighed, "How?"
"Well first, breakfast and Tiffany's - it's tradition."
"That's not really a deal breaker, S." She can't honestly think some pastries and a rental DVD would buy my friendship. In second grade, she ruined my brand new Barbie and it took her almost 3 months to make it up to me, and this is certainly more serious than a busted toy.
"Let me finish. When the movie is finished, I'll tell you everything I know about Chuck."
She smug look on her face showed that she knew she had me there. She may not be bright, but damn she's cunning. "Deal," I agreed begrudgingly.
"So he's been in Paris this whole time? He never struck me as the kind of guy that would stay five years in a place that wasn't Manhattan. The old Chuck - the REAL one - would struggle past the five minute mark." This can't be right. I refuse to believe it. In the past five years, I have been to Paris more times than I can count and I've never seen him. Paris can't be that big.
"As far as I know. He's been using the alias Henry Prince."
"So what? He thinks he can just drop the whole 'I'm Chuck Bass' thing and start over? No, I don't think so. He doesn't get off that easily." Not after what he did to me.
NO BLAIR, DO NOT GO THERE. GO TO YOUR HAPPY PLACE. 'TROPICAL ISLAND. BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S. CHANEL FALL LINE. BRAD PITT.' I repeated like a mantra in my head. 'TROPICAL ISLAND. BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S...'
"What did you say?"
Whoops, must have said that out loud. Note to self - work on improving my verbal filter.
"He doesn't think he can, B - he has. He's even working at a bar in Paris for a measly fee and living off like $10 a day. It's so un-Chuck, it's actually quite scary."
"Wait, he's actually making an honest living?" This was just priceless.
"That's what I said." Serena said, looking at me like I crazy.
"...and there's no speak-easy in the basement or no shady dealings in the alleyway?"
"Not as far as I know."
"Something is wrong. Seriously wrong." Maybe he hit his head and got amnesia.
"Don't you think that maybe he is just trying to better himself... be a normal person?"
"This is Chuck." I stated. Honestly, that part is pretty self-explanatory.
"No, this is Henry."
"Ahhh... how naïve of you, Serena. Haven't you ever heard the saying 'you can put lipstick on a pig - but it's still a pig'. He can play the honorable citizen all he likes, but he's still Chuck Bass underneath all the BS."
"He's changed, B..."
"...so naïve." I muttered under my breath. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for brunch at your mom and Rufus's."
Don't you just hate waiting for people to pick up the phone? I despise people making me wait.
"Found anything?" I asked the second the tool picked up.
"Great to hear from you too, Blair." Ahh, sarcasm. The lowest form of wit.
"I don't have the time or energy to waste pleasantries on you, Baizen. Just tell me what I want to know."
"Fine, I found nothing. He's literally dropped off the face of -"
"- THEN LOOK HARDER!" I practically screamed down the phone. I hope I deafened him a little.
"Why would I do that?"
"Oh, I think you know why."
"You're really going to do this?" He asked, as if forgetting completely who I was.
"I'm Blair Waldorf. If I say I'm going to do something, I do it. Even slime like you must understand that."
"Believe me Blair, I know." He sighed. He's been on my bad side before, he knows how it goes.
"Then don't question me again. Oh - and Carter? Change of plans. I'm looking for Henry Prince. You'll find him in Paris."
As I made my way into the dining room of the Humphrey penthouse, I started to feel mildly comfortable for the first time in days. I was in my element here - mingling with people as important as I am, eating the finest cuisine from all around the world and drinking my weight in champagne. I spotted my mother stranding by the windows with Cyrus, my stepfather, and an unidentified couple. I walked over to them briskly, wanting to say hello before introducing myself to others. My mother spotted me from across the room. "Oh Blair darling, I'm so glad you made it." She looked amazing, as usual, dressed in one of her originals. She was the epitome of elegance and class, and I strived to be just like her.
"Well, you know me. I'm unable to turn down mid-morning Mimosas and beluga caviar."
"Just like her mother. Blair, if you're going to wear one of my designs tell me about it so we can at least get it properly fitted."
"Thanks, mom. I'll keep that in mind."
"She really is my best advertisement," she said to the still anonymous couple. "Excuse us a minute, darling." She kissed me on the cheek before walking away.
"Yeah, sure."
Now, who's here that I could possibly talk to? There has to be someone here worthy of my time. I smoothed down the skirt of my green silk Dolce and Gabbana, and fluffed my hair. There's no point wearing designer if you can't make it look fabulous - which I did, effortlessly I might add.
"Excusez-moi madame," came a voice from behind me. A masculine, sexy voice. I turned slowly to inspect the owner of the spectacular voice only to find an equally spectacular face staring right back at me. He was gorgeous, with a classically Hollywood looks and a dazzling smile. To top it off, he was wearing a perfectly cut tuxedo and dress shoes that I know cost over $800. My type of man.
"De rien." I replied in perfect French. You can't spend years of your life in Paris without learning the language.
"Parlez-vous Français?"
"Oui."
"Je m'appelle Louis." Hmm…Louis, I could live with that. It was classic.
"Bonjour Louis. Je m'appelle Blair." I said with a smile, and extended my hand.
He leaned down and kissed the back of my hand. I swooned. "Enchanté ."
"Are you American?" He asked in English, with a strong French accent. It was undeniably sexy.
"Oh thank god! You speak English?"
"Yes. A little."
"Well don't you worry, we don't have to do much talking." I said, before leading him off towards the elevator. I know it was presumptuous, but it was going to happen sooner or later and I was already bored of this brunch.
Needless to say, me and Louis didn't make it out of my bedroom for the entirety of the weekend. We both turned off our cell phones and spent many wonderful, undisturbed hours just enjoying each other's company... as well as other, more pleasurable things. Even Dorota left us in peace for once.
All good things, however, have to come to an end.
Story of my life.
Sunday night came and went, and soon the sun was rising for a new week on the Upper East Side. Usually Mondays are my favorite day - I like the idea that Mondays bring with them a fresh new week, and a fresh new start - but this was one Monday I didn't want to arrive.
"Blair, don't look so sad. We both knew this had to come eventually."
"I know, but I just had a great time this weekend. It was probably the best time I've had in-" five years, two days and sixteen hours, "well, let's just say a long time. I think I'm saddest because you go back to France today and we might never see each other again."
"Of course we will. Whenever you find yourself in Paris, this is my address and you already have my number." He said while handing me one of his business cards.
"I just don't think I'll be going to Paris for a while." I said with certainty.
"You should." He replied with conviction.
"Finish your coffee and get dressed, Louis. I want to take you to breakfast, New York style." I said before kissing him chastely on the lips and waltzing off to the en-suite to get dressed.
Do you know what I find amazing? That even though I was born and raised in New York, it still manages to take my breath away, I thought as we were driven through my city.
My internal monologue was interrupted by Ivan, the driver, as he lowered the partition.
"Miss Waldorf, we are 20 minutes out of JFK."
"Thank you Ivan." I replied, and he raised the partition again for our privacy.
"...so, this is it." I turned to Louis. I didn't want to have this conversation, but it had to happen sometime.
"It doesn't have to be. Come with me." He said without a hint of doubt. I could see the sincerity in his eyes. It was refreshing to meet a man who was honest. It's not something you come across much in the Upper East Side. But in the same way, it scared me because I don't know how to deal with honestly. I could handle deceit.
"With you? To Paris?" Was he kidding me with this?
"Just for a while. To let us get to know each other better."
"Why have I got to be the one to up and leave my life? Why can't you just not board the plane and stay here in New York with me?" I argued.
"I wish I could, but I have prior commitments I must return for. You must understand that." He gazed into my eyes lovingly.
"...and I don't have prior commitments here? Or are yours just more important than mine?"
"You know that's not what I meant."
He was right. With the mood I was in, I would have fought with him over anything.
"How long do I have to decide?" Louis glanced at his watch and looked at me skeptically.
"Not long, and if the answer didn't jump out at you straight away, then maybe it was a bad idea." I didn't like the look of disappointment on his face. It actually made my cold, dead heart clench.
"No! Just give me a minute to think about this."
Paris... Shopping... Pastries... Monet... Chuck?
The vibration of my blackberry brought me out of my thoughts and I rummaged around in my new Balenciaga purse for the source of my irritation.
Message Received, 1.17pm.
I've found him.
From: Carter Baizen
I knew I would live to regret it the second the words left my lips but I opened them and said it anyway. "Okay, I'll go with you."
Paris, here I come.
Watch your back, Bass-tard. I'm coming for you.
That's it for now. I'll try and update as soon as I can. Review?
