A/N: This is a really excellent song by a band called Westbound Train, and it kind of reminded me of Chuck. I don't own Gossip Girl, the characters, or the song [Westbound Train]. Also, I don't support underage drinking or drinking a whole bottle of wine in one night, or any other drugs or alcohol. By the way. :D
"I'm not just drinking to forget you.
It's what I do to pass the time.
Because I'm proud I say I left you.
But we both know that isn't right.
And I found my solace on this glass here,
A remedy that's conquered sleep.
And I read your words, they make me sick here.
And I just hang my head and weep.
Check your time boy, check your time.
You're running on cocaine and cheap wine.
You say it's the life, boy, you say it's your life.
But check your time boy, check your time."
-Westbound Train, "Check Your Time"
Chuck sat on the stool, taking another gulp of the drink in front of him. It tasted awful, but that didn't matter. He needed to stop thinking, to get rid of this. He couldn't take it anymore. He just wanted a drink, and another, and another. It didn't matter anymore. He needed it all to go away.
Who was she to tell him? He was his own person, she didn't control him. He should be able to do whatever he wanted. She couldn't dictate what he did.
And what made her the good one in all of this? She couldn't just name him the bad guy. She couldn't brand him as the one who'd made all the mistakes in this relationship. She'd done her fair share too. This was not all on him.
And how dare she make him feel this way? She couldn't do that. No one could do that. No one can make Chuck Bass feel bad. Nobody got to do that. No one, not even her.
He'd been at the restaurant for about ten minutes, waiting for her. They'd had this dinner planned for a week, and he picked it because he knew she liked it here.
They'd had a minor fight earlier that day, but he figured it was no big deal, and she would never refuse an offer to eat here. She loved it here.
He figured she was on her way, got caught by a sale at Barney's or something, as she was apt to do, so he went ahead and ordered the wine that she liked. It had just arrived when he got the note.
Chuck, I can't do this anymore. I can't keep going back and forth. One minute you're sweet to me, and the next you try and hurt me. I don't know what to do. I can't do it anymore. I'm done.
-Blair
He stared at the note for a few minutes as it sunk in. She was done. She was really done. His stomach twisted. She was leaving him. The fight that afternoon hadn't been minor, then maybe not to her. It had seemed like nothing…
"Honey, which of these dresses do you think would be better for dinner tonight?" she asked him, her tone sweet.
Barely looking up from his papers, he said, "Either one, they both look fine."
She frowned at him. "You didn't even look," she said. "You could at least bother looking." She sounded irritated.
The files in front of him were painstakingly boring and he'd been trying to focus, and she was pulling him out of it. "I don't have time to look, Blair. I have better things to do than worry about your vain attempts to impress people."
It had been harsh, and he'd regretted it immediately, but it wasn't horrible. He'd said worse.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Well, if it's too much to talk to your vain girlfriend for even just a minute, I'll leave." She stormed out of the room, and slammed the door shut.
But it hadn't seemed so bad. And she'd sent him a text a few hours later.
Sorry I overreacted today. I'm just a little tense is all. See you at dinner tonight! Love, B.
He'd sent her one back, apologizing for his harsh words as well, and he thought it had been settled. But evidently not.
Halfway through the bottle of wine, he staggered over to the bar, clutching the bottle and glass. He poured himself another glass and sat down, staring again at the note in front of him.
His phone rang, and he grabbed for it eagerly, hoping it was her. It wasn't. It was just a stupid Gossip Girl blast about Dan Humphrey. Like anyone cared about him.
He stared at the text, not really reading it. Without really thinking, he sent a message to Gossip Girl. If Blair wanted things over and done with, then everyone could know it.
But he wouldn't tell them the way it'd happen. He'd lie- because he had to. The blast came in only moment later, and he opened it, checking to see what she had to say.
Poor B! Looks like Bass has found a new playtoy…and is done with our Queen B. I guess B can't keep a guy around for very long anymore. Wonder if she'll try and get Bass back. Well, it doesn't look like it's going to work. XOXO, GG.
Chuck grimaced. She'd hate that. But it needed to be done. He couldn't have the world thinking he was sitting here, drinking away a bottle of wine, trying to ignore it all.
The bottle was almost empty. He poured himself the last glass. Sometimes it was annoying how high of an alcohol tolerance he had. It made it harder to get so drunk.
"Chuck!"
Someone's voice was interrupting him.
He tried to ignore them, but they came to sit next to him.
"Chuck!"
"Serena?" he asked, his eyes trying to focus on the girl in front of him.
"Yes, it's me, Chuck. What are you doing?" she demanded.
"I'm waiting for Blair," he said sarcastically.
"Chuck," she said, serious. "Why do you have an apartment up on the West End?" she asked.
Chuck stared at her, sure that his confusion at her statement was not a result of his drunkenness. "I don't have an apartment up on West End," he said. "I don't know what you're talking about, Serena."
"Don't lie to me, Chuck," Serena said. "Blair and I saw it. We know all about it."
"What?" said Chuck.
"Well, Blair was looking through the mail, and she saw a bill for an address on West End. It was a home ownership bill. She opened it up-"
"You know that's illegal, right?" he said.
She glared at him. "She opened it up and she saw that you've been billed for the rent on this place for the past three months. And we went up there and there was a woman who answered the door. And she told Blair that you come up there to 'check on' her and her sister every few weeks. Blair just about fell to pieces. How could you cheat on her, Chuck? How could you?"
"That's not my apartment," he said slowly. "I'm not cheating. Those girls are my cousins, from my mother's side. I met them about six months ago, and they weren't doing great. So I paid for their apartment, and I check in on them every once in a while to make sure they're okay. One of the girls there is sick, and I pay her doctor's bills. I want to make sure they're alright," he said quietly. The alcohol's effects were wearing off. He wanted more. "Their names are Rebecca and Emily."
"Why didn't you tell me?" This was a new voice- his favorite voice. Blair walked over to him and stood beside him.
"I couldn't tell you, I couldn't tell anyone," Chuck said. "I don't want them thrown into the spotlight. They're not like us, you know. They're not used to it all." He looked at her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you."
He kissed her.
"And I'm sorry for breaking up with you," she said.
"And I'm sorry for sending that blast to Gossip Girl," he replied, which made her wince.
"I'm sorry I'm late for dinner," she offered.
He held up the bottle. "I'm sorry I drank all the wine," he said.
She laughed. "I guess we're one sorry couple," she said. She smiled. "You still up for that dinner?" she asked.
"Yeah, I am," said Chuck. "Let's go."