It's you, it's always been you
"You don't want this."
"Don't tell me what I want. Nothing pisses me off more, and you know it."
"What I know? What I know is that you hate the truth being spit back in your face. You feel it slide down your face like a cold, slimy reminder of who you are and how your life has gotten to this point."
It was a mere few seconds after he made his brutal but honest statement that shards split into the air like a mist of sharp, cutting glass. His hand shot up to his face to conceal the gash extending from the outside corner of his eye to the edge of his cheekbone, stopping just short of his right nostril.
"Is that a good enough reminder for you, Chuck? Huh? God, you nosy bastard." A transluscent tear traveling down her cheek complemented her shrieks like a piano to the velvet stroke of a well-tuned violin.
Chuck removed his hand slowly. Painfully-red blood stained his calloused palm. He held out his hand as if a presentation of what she had done to him. Blood oozed from the corners of the cut.
"Damn," he grunted. A soft chuckle escaped from between his lips as he smeared the excess blood on his cheek with the back of his hand. Chuck couldn't help as another laugh traveled from his lungs and out into the atmosphere between him and the thin brunette.
Blair Waldorf's pink lips curved into an almost smile. She crossed her arms and held her breath to stop her own ironic giggles. She leaned against the counter for support as her laughter faltered her balance. "Nate dropped a couple hundred for that vase at a silent auction last month."
This last bit of information sent both of them into a dizzying mess of laughter and loud screams of frustration. With a exasperated sigh, Chuck ran his fingertips over the flat glass separating him from a picture of Nate, Blair and himself smiling happily up at a camera, most likely held by Serena.
"Ah, the smell of the ocean always gets to me, you know?" Nate exclaimed with a joyous smile that shined even through his vibrant blue eyes.
Blair groaned and placed her hand on his knee. "Yes, the pleasant odour of dead fish in the morning just makes me feel so alive." She inhaled deeply and then made a face conveying distaste.
"You just don't know how good you have it. Some women would do anything to be out on a sailing boat with their husbands like this. I mean, it's very romantic, you have to admit..."
Blair took a sip from her wine glass and cringed more at the situation than the bitter taste of the wine. "Yes, very romantic."
Nate sat up and wrapped his arms around his wife. "I'm sorry, Blair, I didn't know--"
"Serena, shut up. Just shut the hell up!"
"Believe it or not, Chuck, some things really are just black and white. There is right, and there is wrong." A sharp intake of angry breath was heard. "And you are very wrong."
Serena crashed in through the swing doors to face Nate and Blair. Her face stood in horror and embarrassment, then broke down into a blubbering mess of self-pity. "I'm so sorry, guys. I don't even know what to say..."
"Hey, it's okay," Nate answered almost too quickly, "We know, trust me, we know what you guys are going through. Blair and I... We heard about what the doctor told you, Serena."
She nodded silently, taking in this. "Well, that's what adoption is for, right?" She shrugged, as if the easiest solution. Once Serena caught Blair's sympathetic eyes, though, she added, "But he won't have Chuck's beautiful brown eyes... She won't have my blonde curls."
Blair guided her to the seat next to her. Serena cried into her best friend's shoulder and pulled mercilessly on Blair's sheer top. Pain resonated clearly through her helpless cries.
Blair glanced up as Chuck uncomfortably ambled towards the three, a small digital camera in hand. "I just realized we're on this wonderful outing, and we haven't taken one single picture yet."
Serena quite unnaturally perked up at this suggestion and took the camera from her spouse. "Well, I look absolutely horrid," she giggled quietly at this, "so I'll snap a picture of you three."
The off-white tint of the padded seats, the distant blur of the blue sea providing a quaint backdrop...
Then Chuck saw it. His own smile in the picture didn't quite reach his eyes, nor did Blair's. Those giddy lines at the edges of their eyes were mysteriously gone from this photo. Nate's eyes, however, were bouncing with some kind of... energy, happiness, love.
Nate wasn't looking in the camera lense. He had been looking somewhere off behind the camera. Perhaps at the plump clouds, perhaps at the sea brilliantly reflecting the day's sunshine.
Perhaps he was looking at the person holding the camera.
Blair gingerly curled her fingers around the edge of the picture frame, no fond smile spread upon her face. "Chuck," she whispered shyly, "it wasn't real."
"Are you sure?" Chuck punished himself silently as he heard his voice shake.
"As sure as I am that Nate isn't going to ever wake up from that coma," she said coldly. "As sure as I am that Serena's dead." Blair dropped the frame. The glass cracked, then scattered and danced across the linoleum kitchen floor. She crunched the glass with the sole of her shoe for added effect.
He backed away with resentful disposition. "How can you act this way?"
"You're in shock, don't worry about it," she said carelessly, "Not to mention hurt." Chuck shot her a confused glance and then buried his face into his shaking hands. "You feel pretty cheated, no pun intended, don't you? You thought you were the adulterer of this relationship."
Chuck shook his head and muttered something inaudible, but still just as miserable as if they had been actual words.
"I felt the same... exact..." Her fingertip brushed sensually against the tip of his nose. "...way."
"You knew?" He asked with bewildered eyes.
"Yeah, I mean, private investigators aren't hard to come by these days." Blair tilted her head to the side and cooed, "Do you want his number? Or I could just give you some money, to buy a clue."
"Stop."
"Were you naive enough to think we were the first? Why would I cheat on Nate?"
"Stop staring at me," Blair giggled self-conciously. She twiddled her hair absently around her pointing finger.
Chuck slyly grinned as his palms skated across her abdomen. "Can't help it, such a lovely view," he murmured, his pupils scanning her body with intent.
She raised an eyebrow and sighed greatly, her brown curls fluttering in the air with her exhale. "You think?" she asked timidly.
He turned on his side and propped his face up with his forearm. He danced his fingertips against the side of her face. "Of course I think so. Doesn't Nate ever tell you that?"
Blair smiled and laughed softly. "What do you think?" Chuck frowned at this. She added before he could comment, "Maybe I just need a new look. You know, I've always had long hair. Maybe I should cut it short, change it up a bit?"
Chuck stared to the side and then a distant grin grew upon his mischievous expression. "I could cut your hair."
Her eyes popped and she seemed to choke on her own spit. "Chuck," she laughed with amusement, "Something is telling me that's not the greatest idea."
"Why not? How hard could it be?"
"Um, pretty hard considering you have to get a license to practice beauty professionally."
Chuck shook his head slowly and threw his head back, keeping a steady gaze on the stucco ceiling. He returned her stare after a moment and asked, "What is beauty anyway?"
She contemplated this, bent over the side of the bed to rummage through her nightstand drawer, and handed him a pair of hairdressing scissors. "You treat my hair as if it was your own child, you understand me?"
He saluted her mockingly. "Yes, ma'am."
"You said you were unhappy!"
"I was," she shrugged and continued, "when I found out he was fucking my best friend, his best friend's wife. Yes, then I was very unhappy, I guess you could say."
"Why are you doing this?" Chuck shouted out in disbelief.
"I'm not done," Blair's voice caught on something and slowly her cold misdemeanour dissipated, "Something happened. That I didn't plan on." She waited for Chuck to look up at her. Once she caught his attention rightfully, she went on, "I fell in love."
He narrowed his eyes into dime-sized slits. "And how am I supposed to believe you, after what you just told me? God, I thought you wanted to be with me, that this, us, meant something to you." His pain was evident, and her shame inflamed her cheeks. "But you were just using me in some kind of sick game to get back at Nate and Serena."
Blair lowered her head. A tear dropped from her cheek and landed on her knee. "I was going to leave him. Then I found out he was leaving me, so I just figured... Why ruin it?"
"Yeah, I mean, why tell Chuck that his wife was leaving with his best friend and escaping to London? Why would he want to know something like that?" Chuck questioned no one in particular bitterly.
"I knew that they were leaving last night, and that they had a flight to London, two first-class tickets." After an awkward silence, she added, "If I had known this would happen..."
Blair drifted off and Chuck mumbled, "I know you wouldn't have." He was infuriated right now, but not enough to blame Blair for this. For he knew that Serena would have still left if he had known anyways. "I loved her." He paused. "I didn't know if you knew that."
She didn't know what to say except, "I know."
"If you had known, would you have gotten in that car and stopped them? Just tell them to turn around and go back home?"
"Of course I would have!" Blair stepped back cautiously. "What kind of question is that? Do you really believe that I would have let them go out there knowing they would be hit by a drunk driver?" she asked incredulously.
"I honestly don't know what to believe anymore," he said tiredly. He rubbed his temples and sat down to rest his legs.
"Well, I wouldn't have." Blair took a seat adjacent to him and felt a wave of emotion overcome her. "I was just afraid..." She sniffed up the fluids gathering in her head. "I was just afraid if it ever came down to a decision, you would choose Serena."
"I would have chosen you." He met her stare. "I still choose you."
