Chuck had come to a conclusion: there was not enough scotch in the world to block out Blair's voice. Yes, he loved her. But love does not make those shrill complaints sound like sunshine and lollipops.
Blair and Serena were in another disagreement. And Chuck Bass did not take sides on these things.
Chuck Bass was smarter than that.
Unfortunately, that didn't stop both girls from turning on him. He was now hiding out in the speakeasy, though he preferred to think of it as a tactical withdrawal. Chuck had done his best to smooth things over, suggesting that perhaps he and Blair were being a little harsh on Serena. Blair had turned on him in a swirl of inky black locks, and burning eyes. After listing the ways that Serena had wronged them all, Blair had crossed her arms waiting for a defence.
"We can't cut her off forever," he'd responded in a practical fashion.
"Of course not, because everyone knows the golden It Girl can do no wrong!"
Blair was jealous of Serena. Not in her usual competitive manner. This ran deeper. This hurt more.
Blair was jealous that Serena could win Chuck's forgiveness without even trying.
And Chuck couldn't deny it.
Even his skewed moral compass knew that there were lines out there. He wasn't hard on Blair, but he didn't give her a free pass either. When she fucked up, he called her out on it.
Serena's pass wasn't free, but it was cheaper.
He knew that one day Blair would cross one of those lines. She'd do something he could never forgive her for. That didn't mean he'd stop loving her.
He also knew that there would never come a time when he wouldn't forgive Serena.
Good and bad were not well defined terms. They were blurry. And love just added a layer of haze.
Chuck and Blair lived in the same moral district.
Serena didn't know her address.
Blair didn't make mistakes. She made sacrifices. Before Blair acted her mind twisted through the long shady ropes of possible outcomes. She would always know what her schemes could cost herself or others.
Serena made many mistakes. She acted—not without thinking, but without foresight. For Serena, the now shone so brightly, tomorrows couldn't be seen through the glare.
If life was a war, which it just might be, Blair would be a general. Serena would be a bomb. Sure they both left high body counts, but only one could learn a lesson from it.
He could never blame either one of them for what they were.
He would not change one scheming, plotting, Machiavellian hair on Blair's head. To change her would make her less: less Blair, less amazing, less the woman he loved.
Serena could never be changed. You could do your rain dances, worship Thor, and sacrifice virgins to volcanoes: at the end of the day the elements would do exactly as they pleased.
Loving Serena and Blair was risky business...And it wasn't even covered by his insurance.
Thank God there was always scotch.