I woke up with a hangover from hell.
The images from last night blurring and swirling around my mind.
"Ugh," I groaned as I walked over to the toilet, bending down and vomiting.
After I was done, I got up, washed myself off, and looked in the mirror.
"Fuck..." I clutched onto the counter as memories from yesterday came flooding back to me.

I went to this party... What was the party for?
Oh right, that fucking prince Blair is dating was having a party to chose his future wife.
I went... I went to talk some sense into Blair. To show her I was the one for her, not that prince.
I even took that engagement ring I had, knowing she'd have to chose me over him.
Then... I told her off, I embarrassed her in front of the prince's family.
I was so fucking certain she'd coming running straight into my arms.
Fucking security had to come and take me out.
I went back here and drank more, not really caring what it did to me.
And she came. Like an angel coming to save me from my personal hell.
I felt amazing, and then...
Fuck. No. No. No.
She couldn't have... I couldn't have... We were meant to be.

New York was our kingdom.
I was the King of it.
She was meant to be my Queen at my side.
We would be able to rule it together for as long as we lived.
Anything we ever wanted could be ours.

Then that prince had to come along and fuck it up.
Blair was mine, she was always mine.
How dare he, of all people, come and ruin what we had?
She was perfectly happy with me, she always was.
Then he came along, all like fucking prince charming.
She only wanted him because he was a prince.
He could never have with her what we had.
It was impossible.

She was fucking engaged to him now.
She wasn't supposed to marry anyone instead of me.
I was the only person she was allowed to marry.

Shit... that's when I fucked it up.
I tried to punch her.
How the hell could I do that?
How the hell could I try to hurt the best thing that's ever happened to me?
What was wrong with me?

I walked out of the bathroom, I looked at the glass I had punched yesterday.
It was definitely real.
It was all fucking real.
I couldn't go back and fix this, shit.
There was no way to fix this.
Even if I did, nothing would be the same as before.
I've lost her forever.

I needed someone to talk to about this, I walked out of my room and noticed a bunch of bags were lying around the living room.
"Nate?" I called out.
He walked out of his room, a bag slung over his shoulder casually.
"Are you going on a trip for a few months or something?" I looked at him, confused at what was going on.
Nate sighed, "Reina gave me a choice. I told her the truth about her mom. It was either her or you. You've changed Chuck, I can't be your friend anymore, I chose her."
I stared at him, laughing in disbelief, "You're choosing a girl you've barely met over me? Nate, I've been your best friend for years."
He shook his head, "You were my best friend, Chuck, then you changed. I'm sorry."
I stood in silence as he walked out, and as all his bags were taken out.
His room was empty when I walked in, I punched the wall as hard as I could.
"Fuck!" I'd left a huge hole in the wall and my hand was covered in blood, but that didn't matter.

Nothing mattered anymore.
I walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of my finest liquor, downing it all in one huge gulp.
My throat stung, my lungs stung, everything hurt.
I digged deeper into my cabinet and grabbed my hands onto a box, pulling it out.
Opening it quickly, a grim smile fell upon my face.
It was my dad's old gun, one he kept around for who the hell knows why.
I didn't even care, I was just glad he had it.

I stepped out onto the balcony, holding the gun to my head.
"This is all for you, Blair, I'm doing it for you. If you really want that prince, you have him. You were too foolish to see what we had. Now you can never have me, no one can."
Then I pulled the trigger, and everything went black.