Inspired from 3OH3 song Still Around
Chuck wandered the streets aimlessly as the snow ruined his new leather dress shoes. He originally had taken the walk though Central Park to get the idea of Nate and Blair out of his mind. A year later and the thought of them together still made his stomach twist and turn.
His feet carried him to the spot Blair had always told him about. The same very spot where she used to feed ducks with her dad. The same one where she was currently kissing his best friend.
She looked so happy with Nate. Maybe she never needed him after all, it was the other way around he thought.
He only had himself to blame. He said that he cared about her yet when she needed him the most he was avoiding his problems and trying to play the hero to some manipulative secret society bitch. She deserved a happy ending with her knight in shining armor not the fuck up or the last resort.
With Nate, Blair could get another chance at Yale, once and for all secure her position as Queen B, and be happy. Happier than she could ever be with him. Chuck couldn't think of any benefits for her staying with him than his own personal gain.
For once he decided that he was going to be selfless and give up. He knew she was back on track to the life that she had always dreamed of as a child and who was he to try and interrupt her fairytale from unfolding.
In a few years she would graduate the top of her class in Yale with Nate by her side. They would have that white picket fence in the Hamptons with mini Blairs and mini Nates running around.
Just thinking about it made him nauseous as he searched for a bar where he could drown his sorrows and just maybe forget about the brown eyed beauty who had stolen his heart.
Chuck found one to his liking and sat down. Without saying a word, the bartender got him his usual glass of scotch. As the amber liquid scorched his throat, he wondered if this self-sacrifice was worth all the pain. Yes, he decided. It was worth it because he just wanted her to be happy. He loved her.
Little did he know, on the opposite side of the bar was a petite brunette with a glass of scotch in hand. She didn't drink scotch but for tonight she would make an exception. There was some sort of familiarity that went along with the burning sensation on her lips. Maybe if she drank enough she would forget the boy with dark hair and calculating eyes. Maybe if she drank enough she could accept the lie that her life had become.