My First Ever Fan Fiction so please be nice…it does become more about the Chuck, Nate, Blair and Serena in the next chapters. This is just setting it up…
He doesn't even flinch as the hand meets his face in a brutal punch. He falls to the floor, but he doesn't grimace. He takes it.
He has been the same punch bag all his life. When he trailed mud into the house after the game of hide and seek in central park at his 6th birthday party, when his mother found another new man to play with, when his mother finally became ill, when his business deals went wrong, when Lily van der Woodsen wouldn't call back.
And he expects it now. He deserves it now. He has never doubted that fact, never thought for one moment that his father shouldn't do this to him.
His father took care of him, gave him the lifestyle which he so blatantly required, and this was his way of thanking him. This was his way of showing that he was grateful for what his father did for him.
And so, he would take the punches. He would deal with the beatings. He wouldn't complain. He wouldn't fight back. And he definitely wouldn't show how much this hurt him.
It became more and more frequent, as if his father felt the need for it to happen routinely, as some kind of drug that helped him get through his life.
The first time the bruises had appeared, he hadn't gone into school. He had hidden at home.
But as he grew older, he started to thrive on the mystery that accompanied the bruises. He played on the pathetic curiosity of his schoolmates, he liked the ambiance. Everyone obsessed over what possible thing he could have down now, and what the other guy looked like. He fed the rumours, boying himself up to seem like he was a much more worthy person than he actually was.
And the fact that he had to come home to his father with the bruises, that's what he hated. He began to hide them, not wanting his father to see and feel guilty. His father didn't deserve that. When he was older, he stopped coming home after the worst beatings, he hid for a few days until he looked normal again. Then he went home and faced his father.
It was how he lived his life. He had never thought about anything different. He didn't question the hand he had been dealt, nor did he dislike it. It was just the way it was.
And Chuck Bass wouldn't have it any other way.