They couldn't see her even though she was hiding in plain sight. The stark white of Chuck's tux shirt and the blood red of Blair's tight, short, nightdress clashed enough that they should see her. She wasn't exactly quiet either as she stumbled around Blair's apartment, drunk. But no, Nate Archibald, Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass were too caught up in their own drama to notice her.

"We were broken-up!" and "You lied!" were shouted from the living room. When they weren't near Serena van der Woodsen, they would drop the pleasant act and try to get everything out. Chuck, of course, would watch calmly, with a cool expression, letting Nate and Blair yell at each other. He thought it was amusing, until they started pulling him into the discussion. Then Chuck wasn't so amused by them.

Serena went unnoticed as she walked to the elevator, entered it and left. Not sure why she was leaving, just knowing that there was only one person she could talk to. One person who would listen to her, a person that wasn't caught up in the drama, someone who didn't read Gossip Girl and didn't know why her life was crashing and burning right now.

It was just one of those days. Or nights…whatever way you looked at it. He was pretty sure he had never been so alone. He hadn't really had a life since the summer. And then one morning everything was gone.

Serena van der Woodsen was like the breeze on a hot summer's day. She's with you completely for only a moment, and then she's gone.

CNN was boring. They only talked of war, death, poverty – all the things Carter Baizen didn't want to hear about. The way he saw it, his life sucked, why would he want to watch about other people's lives sucking? He didn't move when he heard the knock on his apartment door. Anyone who'd visit him was either out of the country, at college, or in the arms of Dan Humphrey. On top of that, thanks to that spoiled pompous ass Bass, no one at St. Jude's liked him, even though most of them hung out with him back in the day.

But now as he sat on his ass, in front of his TV, not doing a damn thing to ease his aching mind, he doesn't want to forget about Serena van der Woodsen. As lonely as he was, and as damned as he felt, he really, truthfully did not want to get over her.

One week wasn't enough. It never would be but…it was so real – everything was the same when he replayed their island in the sun. He could still see her on the beach, in her classically modest, but all too sexy one-piece, the sun making her hair shine like pure gold as it dried in the sand. It was probably the best week of his life, until Saturday. He woke up expecting it to be like the six previous mornings – Serena curled beside him, even though the nights were hot. But that morning, she was gone – her clothes, toothbrush and shampoo were gone. No note. And by the next day, her scent was gone, too.

Carter didn't see her again until the Cotillion, and that night had ended as horrible as Santorini had. Nate Archibald had punched him. And the girl – the girl he wanted – was swept into the arms of some Brooklyn boy. All he had gotten was a revived memory of Serena's face and a black-eye.

Where was she? She wasn't completely sure. She knew where she wanted to be, and this was her third attempt to be there. If she didn't get there soon, she would have to go back to Blair's because sooner or later they'd realize she was gone.

Room 1356.

She was sure this was it. She pounded a little louder than she intended, considering her actions were a bit impaired.

He answered the door, slowly. Serena was about to leave, thinking she had gotten the wrong apartment once again. But, no, Carter Baizen was standing on the opposite side of the door like she had wanted.

"Carter!" She exclaimed, moving forward and stumbling over her own feet as she had many times tonight. Only this time, she fell against him.

"Serena?" He was more shocked than happy, considering seconds earlier he had been dreaming about her.

She didn't say anything, just walked past him. As if she knew his apartment well, she went to his couch, grabbing the remote. She muted the TV and lay back against the soft leather.

"What are you doing here?" he asked sitting beside her.

"I need a second chance," she said vaguely.

"With?" he questioned, sending her a confused look.

"Everything," came the reply as she leaned toward him.

He leaned away from her. "Serena, you have Dan. And apparently you're drunk; you don't want me," his voice was filled with sadness as he said what he knew to be the truth.

She started to shake her head as anger crossed her face. "NO! Sarah has Dan. I don't. I have no one…Blair, and them aren't the same and I know they care... But you care, don't you?"

He sighed, "You know I care, Serena."

"If you care, show me. Show me something real. Because this world, OUR WORLD is so fake," Serena exclaimed, grabbing his arms.

She kissed him. He kissed her back. He tried to tell himself that she was drunk and confused and apparently hurt, but as she stood up, walking seductively and surprisingly steadily into his bedroom, he couldn't help but follow. She lay on his bed, patting the spot beside her.

He climbed in and sat where her hand had indicated. Serena, then, started slowly unbuttoned the only button she had and opened the white shirt. He had seen the red of her undergarments under the white top, but the way the bra hugged her body turned him on just as much as that bathing suit.

Their mouths molded together, and his hands ran down her body.

Chuck Bass couldn't see. He had his eyes opened but all he saw was black. SHIT! Nate must have killed him in his sleep, and now he was in the darkest pits of hell. He knew he shouldn't have egged him on last night. Why did Chuck have to run his mouth? Not every converstation called for one of his signature smartass remarks, but he felt they added to the whole effect.

But his hell theroy had a serious flaw, he could see tiny strands of light, and the warm on both sides of his body wasn't fire, so he had to be alive. He moved his hand to his face. It was hair, covering his eyes. Blair was laying beside him. Surprisingly, Nate was laying behing him, though not sthingying him or anything like that, they were laying back to back, like they had when they used to have their sleepovers, pretending to be pirates or cops or indians.

A/N: This was betaed by Blood Red Kiss Of Death...thanks, girl!

Will be a short multi-chaptered story...