Chuck Bass sauntered down the hallway, utilizing the gait he had perfected years ago. His footsteps echoed and many who were gathered paused to look, to glance upon the man who gave off such an aura. An aura of confidence, mystery, and something else that only those who knew him could identify. His gaze never faltered, eyes never left the end of the hallway, the door that concealed a situation he could easily picture- unblemished furniture and décor, despite the two toddlers who inhabited the home. The stunning brunette whose heels echo throughout, organizing some event or some party, one-hundred things running through her mind, but not even a strand of hair out of place. He would open the door and the children- his children- would come running, jumping onto him. He would laugh the genuine laugh and smile the genuine smile that only a few people could elicit. She would appear as if by magic, fighting a smile as she scolded the little girl and little boy. They would scurry off into the world where couches because castles, where pristine carpets become hot, boiling lava, where princes and princesses and fairies roam the earth, where love is unconditional. Chuck Bass would always make certain his children had what he never did. When the room was free of peering eyes, the woman -his wife- would greet him with a kiss, light, almost teasing, but still filled with love. He would kiss her back, reiterating his commitment to her. That he, Chuck Bass, would love her for the rest of his life.

Any observer of the family would only see the designer clothing, the upper-east-side manner, an upscale penthouse, how beautiful the idea of them was. They would make the assumption that like most of the upper-east side, there was nothing behind the immaculate appearance. They would be unaware that the family was most beautiful behind their public persona, when facades fell. When his bowtie was tossed on the floor and her hair hung loose down her back. When the concealer was wiped away and the scars were revealed. Where damaged, wounded, and insecure came together to create something new, something beautiful. She made him see that his world had only been empty because she wasn't in it. That no matter what he tried to fill the space with- alcohol, drugs, prostitutes, even the love of a family that was never truly his, nothing succeeded.

He was Chuck Bass. She had been Blair Waldorf. They challenged each other, tore each other apart and broke each other's hearts. He was a failure in the eyes of most, a slacker, a drunk at the age if seventeen, a boy who knew nothing but his father's money as a replacement for his father's love, a boy who was nothing but emptiness. She was a conniving, manipulative, self-centered, spoiled rich girl who didn't know how to be a friend and hurt those who she loved the most. Somehow, though, together they were stunning. She helped battle his darkest demons, stood beside him when the world turned away, became his only true family. For him, she was everything she never had been- loyal, supportive, loving, and selfless. He helped her realize how special she was, celebrated her worst qualities, and treated her as if she were real. For her, he was the person no one could have predicted- responsible, respectful, loving, and selfless. Together, they became Chuck and Blair. Their strength was unmatched, their passion blistering, their loyalty unbreakable, their love like no other.

Chuck Bass stopped in front of the door, as he had a hundred other times. He paused for just a moment, preparing himself for a blissful state that always surprised him. Even after years of it, happiness always took him by surprise. The sensation of being loved, of being wanted was one that would never be surpassed. After twenty-five years, Chuck Bass had a place where he belonged. Chuck Bass had a home.