He leaned his head against the metal railing of her hospital bed and it sent a small vibration through her body

He leaned his head against the metal railing of her hospital bed and it sent a small vibration through her body. She hated that she was doing this to him, that he cared enough about her that he would spend his days sitting next to her waiting for her to wake up. She wondered how long that she could play this charade. How long could she play "coma" before people stopped believing her. That had been happening a lot lately, she was losing her touch. No, that's not it. Blair Woldarf never loses her touch at anything, especially telling lies.

He wasn't looking at her any more; she couldn't feel his eyes burning on her skin. He wiped his face, and breathed in deeply. No way. This is not happening, Chuck Bass, is not crying over her…right? Chuck Bass doesn't feel anything…just like Blair: they don't have room for feelings in this Upper East-Side Lifestyle. Maybe that is why she took the pills. She had been playing "coma" for two days now but had seen enough television to know that most patients honestly can't remember their ordeals or block them out. Blair didn't know which one she was doing…the girl who swallowed the pills was someone she didn't know…yet she felt something for her; was it envy?


She had been so sick of feeling lonely.

Not just feeling. She was alone.

In a big house; with no doorway that kept records of her growing height.

In a family; with no love, only lust and that lust was for money.

There were no pictures from forgotten cheap cameras that were developed months later.

No family pet to tell stories about.

No siblings to tell stories to.

Nothing. Nothing.

Nothing but a surprisingly well stocked medicine cabinet and a shiny razor next to the tub.

And a big, empty house to catch all her emotions, once they've spilled from her.


God, she wished that he would leave. He was so annoying. Always there, always looking, always Chuck. Maybe she had been asleep when the others came. Maybe she was thinking too hard on what had happened to notice a new being in Chucks' spot. Maybe, though probably not.

Serena had been there, the room felt like it had been graced with her presence. Something lingered, besides the flowers on her bedside table, something greater. Was she jealous of Serena; Serena who has a poor boyfriend and Chuck as a step-brother?

Yes. Blair could see that being a possibility. It came so easy to her, while Blair worked so damn hard for something that was taken from her anyway. Yes Serena's boyfriend was middle-class but she had real love. And yes her brother was Chuck, but at least she had one.

Blair strived to be the best her entire life, she must have overlooked that class that everyone else took, when they decided if the life they were leading was the one they wanted to pursue. Forever.

Because she no longer did. And the white capsules looked so…peaceful. As if with one pill, one perfect pill, everything would be okay, and she would have the things that she truly desired; the things that she never let anyone see, not even herself.


"Did I make you do this to yourself?" He came, he sat, he slept, he wept, but he never talked. He never asked questions that she couldn't answer. He cradled his head in his hands and breathed hard. He took in another breath and Blair though for a minute that he was going to say something else. Maybe it would be about guilt, shame, regret, things that she no longer wanted to hear about. She had heard enough of "I'm sorry," she had enough of those to last her a lifetime.

She wanted him to say something beautiful, words that she knew he had in him; that he desired to say but never did. Just like she desired to hear them but never let herself.

She was tired of blaming everyone for her mistakes. Her choices were hers alone, but because she never let anyone see the real Blair, the Blair she wanted to be, no one expected her to take the blame.

She felt the thick gauze around her wrists and her sore throat most likely from having her stomach pumped or things like that. Who got you here, Blair, she asked herself…who did this to you?


Blair opened her eyes to find Chuck with his head in the same position when she started thinking. He wasn't crying anymore. He wasn't thinking, he wasn't looking, he was still Chuck Bass, but he was sleeping. She ran her delicate fingers through his hair. She wasn't aware that she was crying at first. It was the urge to stop the tears and put on the fake smile that hid everything she felt, that made her realize that the salty water falling down her face were tears. Tears that Blair Waldorf never let herself release.

I got myself here. I am to blame. I am responsible.

Though it was not the best thing to be responsible for, Blair was glad that the first time she took the blame it was for something that mattered. Maybe she could save herself after all, save the girl in the lonely, big house. She kept crying and watching Chuck sleep, their roles reversed, and she felt her shield break, her mask rip, tough skin peal. And like a caterpillar resolving into a butterfly, she ridded herself of her old cocoon and flew in the only direction that was left: up.

Review please, I hope that you liked it.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters and make no claim on them by the publishing of this piece.