The city was a mess, it had been for four years now. Lights flickered, giving the dirty streets a pathetic glow, revealing the poor creatures that roamed the sidewalk. Tattered clothes piled on their backs as they dragged bags behind them, stopping occasionally to search trash piles for any valuables.
The government had never meant for Manhattan to fall into such shambles, but soon, the desperate times became too much so they offered one plane ride to one of the British isles that was being used as an U.S. safe haven. The tickets were expensive and people rushed to marry their son's and daughter's off to those that could afford it: the Upper East Sider's. Some of them took pity and complied to the wishes, but other's refused, and some married other Upper East Sider's to keep the Brooklyner's from begging.
Yet, Blair wanted to believe that Chuck had proposed because he loved her. After all, he asked her to marry him months before they were even told there would be a plane. It had still been a pretty big wedding despite the hysteria that had fallen. That day, they found that Dan and Serena had eloped a few weeks back, and that Nate had proposed to Jenny. That was also the day the tickets began to sell; six were bought, but only two were collected as the plane was boarded. It was barely in the air for ten minutes when it exploded. Three of the six companions watched from one point in the city, and the other stared alone as the parts of the plane fell burning into the ocean. If the city was bad before, it was nothing compared to the chaos afterwards.
Places were ransacked, and most of the Upper East Side was trashed in anger by those that were left behind. What had once been a regal city was now an infectious disease forcing it's tenants to succumb to poverty. Yet, it was here that Blair Waldorf called home.
In fact, at that moment, the brunette was far from her penthouse, and instead was sliding on her heels after searching for them in the dirty motel room. There was a thirty something business man from Chicago lying in the bed with the moldy sheets curled around his waist. He was watching her with interest as she pulled her coat over her provocative outfit, trying to figure out what exactly had driven this young girl to do something like this. Blair buttoned the coat up and turned towards him with a smile, "I expect to get what I worked for," she said walking over to the man as he reached to the bedside table and pulled a couple of crumpled bills from his wallet. She snatched them up and flipped through them with a small groan: eighty dollars; that was less than what she had hoped for, but she took what she they gave her. After all, every little bit helped.
"So, what does your husband think of your profession," he asked blatantly.
Blair furrowed her eyebrows curiously. How did this man know she had been married? Then she looked down at her left hand and swore under her breath; she had forgotten to take her wedding band off, no wonder work had been so hard to find. Pursing her lips for a moment she stuffed the money away in her bra and gave him a small, forced smile, "my husband's dead," Blair said quietly before turning and leaving the business man alone in the disgusting motel.
Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement as she hurriedly headed back towards the Upper East Side. Blair clutched her jacket closer, keeping her head down as she passed by groups of people huddled around a trash can, fighting for the warmth of the pathetic fire burning inside. She felt a sting of pity for them, but didn't stop to offer any help.
For a moment though, as she reached the Upper East Side, she paused. It was once her beautiful haven, but was now just a ruin of a once great society. Should she head straight back to the penthouse? No. She had to see it again.
What exactly was it? It was her wedding present. Chuck had actually gone out of his way to buy her a house, a pretty perfect house, a house she could have dreamed of. Surprisingly it had been one of the few places that hadn't been destroyed in the riots, and was still relatively the way they left it. The outside had just fallen into a disarray after not being attended to. The snow white bricks had begun to tint a pale yellow, and the dark blue door and shutters had faded to a pathetic cyan. Taking out the key to the door, she walked up the steps and into the house with a flicker of sadness in her eyes.
The house had been left the way it had been two years ago; the hydrangea's that had once stood fresh and beautifully arranged in the vase on the table now hung limp and dead. There was a layer of dust over the tables, and spoiled food in the refrigerator. There was china that had never been used, and stiff couches that hadn't been sat on. Shockingly, the lights still flipped on and the computer still hummed, never having been turned off. But she didn't touch anything.
Instead, Blair walked softly through the house, shaking as she passed rooms that had never been used. She paused by the bathroom and swore she could almost hear their joined laughter that night he had climbed fully clothed in the bubble bath with her. They had only been twenty, and life had seemed so perfect for them. It was almost as if she had gotten her happily ever after, but no one had told her that happily ever after didn't last. Because after the plane had blown up, it was downhill from there.
Blair had spent what money she had left on what she, Serena, and Dan would need to survive, the rest was her mother's money, and Eleanor had spent it drinking herself to death after her fashion line failed because people stopped caring about fashion. Everything now depended on what they could get from working. Life had truly been much easier back then. But Blair couldn't live in the past, there wasn't time for that. Yet, every now and then she visited it, and that's what she did as she stepped into the bedroom.
With as much strength as she could muster, Blair flung her shoe across the room at him. Her eyes were livid as Chuck ducked it, making her pick up another and repeat the toss, this time knocking a pillow to the ground. Again he ducked. Chuck hated when they fought, but he had to admit, she looked really sexy pissed off in her short little nightgown. He raised his hands, surrendering, "I'm sorry Blair, all right? I'm sorry for whatever I did."
Wrong answer; it got yet another shoe thrown at him. The brunette didn't even know why she was so mad at him, but she was. Chuck was sick and tired of getting her heels thrown at him.
"You know what, fine, be mad Blair! I'm not sticking around for it!"
With that, he stalked out of the room and too the front door. Blair stared after him: had he really just walked out? The slamming of the front door was her answer, shocking her into action.
Quickly, she tore from the room, ignoring the silent tears that had begun falling down her face. The sound of the front door opening slowly made Blair stop as Chuck walked back in and stared at her. Locking eyes, their chests both rising and falling with heavy breaths, and then she was in his arms, both of them having moved at the same time. Their lips crashed together, and Chuck had scooped her off her feet, her legs wrapping around his waist. When the kiss broke, both of the were apologizing over and over again, but whatever they had been fighting about didn't matter anymore. He kissed the tears off her cheeks, carrying her back towards the bedroom. As he stepped inside, Chuck tripped over one of the shoes that had been thrown earlier and fell back onto the bed. Blair giggled as she watched his cheeks flush slightly with embarrassment, "smooth," but she pressed her lips to his again before flipping him onto his back, straddling his waist.
The brunette leaned down and trailed kisses from his lips to his neck and down his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt. It was peeled off his shoulders before he pushed her nightgown up, grinning when he saw the sly smile on her face as it was pulled over her head and discarded to the side. His pants followed before Chuck flipped Blair back onto her back. Trailing his hands down her body, he watched her eyelids flutter with delight. He brought his lips to her neck, dragging them slowly, and antagonizing, across her collarbone and then to the swells of her breasts. His fingers gripped the straps of the lacy black bra, that matched her panties, and slid them off her shoulders; his hand then sliding beneath her arched back to unhook it. It followed the rest of their clothes off the bed, his hands then returning to her body, caressing her soft mounds, his thumbs rubbing over her quickly hardening nipples before taking one gently into his mouth and sucking. Blair whimpered softly as her hand ran through his hair, feeling his erection press against her thigh.
"Chuck," she purred, "don't tease."
Her fingertips were pushing against the waistband of his boxers as Chuck pulled away with a smirk. She smiled triumphantly as he obliged, pushing the cloth down, releasing his erection, watching him go for her panties, tugging them off her hips. Chuck licked his lips, "God Blair," he whispered, "you're so wet."
Blush rose to her cheeks quickly and she wriggled slightly under his hungry gaze. He leaned down to kiss her and she kept his close for a moment, "I love you Charles Bartholomew Bass," she whispered in his ear.
"I love you too Blair Cornelia Bass," he breathed, smirking as a gasp fell from her lips as he slid inside of her.
Present day Blair bit her lip and blinked back tears as the memory faded. Looking around, her eyes remained moist as she saw the open closet with her classically colored outfits on one side, and his flamboyantly colored ones on the other. Hardly used make up and expensive jewelry, including the Erickson Beamon necklace, lay perfectly aligned on her vanity; Chuck's cologne was the only thing on it of his. But it was the bed that tore at her heart. The sheets were still a rumpled mess from the last night they had shared together in it, and she knew that the scent of him had long since faded away. Blair had lost the one thing that mattered most to her, and she couldn't let go, and she didn't want to. As the first tear fell, the brunette wiped it away and left the house as fast as she could.
Returning to the penthouse she was greeted by a worried Dan.
"You came back later tonight…why," he asked as she pulled off her coat.
"Just a long night Dan."
He nodded slowly, biting back words, knowing perfectly well that she had gone to the house again. He tried to avoid looking at her in the skanky outfit that clung to her body. It wasn't something the Blair Waldorf he had originally met would ever wear. But she had adapted and changed to what she needed to keep herself and her friends alive. After all, none of them believed they would ever end up like this.
Dan watched her pull the flimsy bills from her top and hand them to her. Counting the amount he smiled grimly, "it helps," he said, trying to reassure her that they would be okay, but he knew perfectly well that they were getting worse and worse every day, "and by the way, I just finished a hot bath for you," he said nodding up towards the stairs.
"No, I'm fine, you should use that for Serena…how is she?"
Dan looked down, "um, her fever broke earlier, but she's still pretty sick. And go take the bath, I already gave her one today."
"And what about you Dan," Blair asked placing her hands on her hips, she paused and bit her lip, "you know what, why don't you just take it with me. And before you protest and become all chivalrous I don't care. You need it, and I need it. It's not like I haven't caught you and Serena in bed before and…I'm not exactly as ashamed of everyone seeing my body as I used to be or I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing now."
Before Dan could even answer there was a sound of a door opening and they stared at the door to the stairs as a figure stepped inside…holding another figure.
"Oh my God," Blair murmured.
"Georgina?"
