How Easy it is to Lose

Down in Paris they walk fast

That is unless they're walking slow

And in cafe's they look away

That is unless they look right in

And in the corners I'm getting lost

That is unless I'm getting found

And if you are the ghost of New York City

Then won't you stick around

They walked along the cobbled streets and ate ice cream. They held hands, they laughed. The sun shone on her golden hair, like a halo. They had nowhere they had to be. Just pleasure.

She stole some of his ice cream with a tip of her finger (bubblegum).

Squeezed up her nose.

"So colourful, but not very tasty. I don't know how it's your favourite," light comment, teasing.

Doesn't steal any of hers in retaliation, its strawberry, her favourite. He can't stand the sight of strawberries anymore.

Shrugs instead at her comment.

"I like the colours." Smiles.

Doesn't tell her his favourite used to be triple chocolate, the devils choice.

Shoves her lightly as she tries to steal some more, laughs.

He wanted rainbows not memories.

So he does his best to lose himself through the winding streets with a pretty angel.

In Prague he would get drunk sometimes. (He wasn't supposed to. Drink will be the end of you. So would a bullet.)

She would come home to find him laying there rolling his all his words.

She excused it by saying he was hurting. He would get better.

He let her believe that (almost let himself).

When he came to Paris he limited it.

A drink (after the nightmares) a few during the day.

Beer, poor men didn't drink scotch.

He was getting better in Paris.

He had to let himself believe that.

No one knew him here.

They'd stolen his phone, so no gossip girl blasts.

Didn't buy a new one.

Stayed away from tourists hotels, 5 star. Not that New York would recognise him dressed as he was.

He went sight seeing with Eva, absorbed the culture. Admired her cadences as she spoke of the city she loved with passion.

Sat in front of their apartment, watched the people walk by. So easy, relaxed. Laughter, passion, life.

He thinks he loves it here (almost).

Almost forgets.

It was easy to get lost in the beauty of Paris.

Sometimes she'll say something in French and he frowns, wishes that he'd paid better attention in class.

He knew how to string a basic sentence together, how to swear of course.

But not the true language, the words spoken on the streets by the natives.

Asks her to teach him.

Realises he can be a fast learner when he wants to be.

Just another step to shedding his old suit.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to become a French citizen.

Sometimes the wound will hurt him (Wound he sneers at the word. Sounds like some sort of thing a hero would have. Given up on being a hero long ago, before he even tried.)

He'll have to pause a bit while walking.

She'll pause with him, but she's learnt not to comment.

Sometimes the other wound, the one deeper, (in his very soul) will pain him at night.
Wakes up with nightmares, can't breathe.

Sits up with him, just rubs his back.
Never asks.

He likes her for that.

She seemed to understand without having to be told.

It was easy.

He'd never tried easy before.

To her he was Charles.

He didn't wear suits.

He didn't have a limo.

And his bank account wasn't bottomless.

He didn't think about things like revenge either.

The old Chuck would have hunted those bastards down. Would want to see them rotting.

If he mentioned the idea her blue eyes probably would have widened. It was horrible what happened, but Ces't la Vie, it's not like he could do anything about it?

He never mentions revenge to her, doesn't think about it (forces himself not to, that wasn't him anymore.)

There was no point fighting for a stone after he'd already lost the heart...

To Eva he never thought of things like revenge while she was sleeping. Didn't think of taking a gun and shooting their smug faces.

Never thought of what had led him there, with a hole in him.

Never had countless regrets.

To her he was just Charles.

Charles, he liked the name, never heard it said with quite that inflection.

Rolling of the rs. Charrrles.

Sometimes he forgets he even had another name. Sometimes he almost believes he's Charles.

Sometimes he almost believes there's no such thing as regret.

Crossing the street, a familiar black shape. Glances out of curiosity, to see who was living the life he once revelled in (hated).

Her.

His heart skips a beat, stands and stares.

They say that one you truly love someone you'll find your way back to each other, no matter what.

He guesses it wasn't that easy to get lost in Paris.

He doesn't go back to the apartment after that.

He keeps some money on him, without Eva knowing.

Just in case.

This was just in case.

Goes straight to a bar. Slaps the money on the table. Orders scotch.

Drinks the rest of the afternoon away.

Tries to drown out soft brown eyes and the pain in his chest.

"Chuck?"

Keeps on walking, he should never have agreed to come out with Eva to this popular cafe. Not when he knew it was a hot tourist spot.

"Chuck!" Not a question now.

"Come on," mutters to Eva, she hasn't even noticed the voice. Tries to increase the pace.

He was an expert at the art of running.

A limp tends to slow even the best of them down though.

"Chuck!" Insistent now, she grabs his hand. Turns to face her (wishes he could run).

"Chuck I can't believe it," her big wide white smile, blonde tresses messy yet fashionable as always. Her mouth runs away from her. Nothing has changed. "You won't believe how worried Mom and Eric have been, they said they haven't heard from you in weeks. And then Blair told me she saw you but... "

Eva slips her hand into his, curious eyes trained on him.

Serena trails off as she notices.

"I'm sorry," she changes tact. "I didn't see you there...?"

Leaves the sentence trailing curious, looks at Chuck. He can almost hear her accusations.

"Eva," smiles shyly.

"Serena," distracted she looks back at the girl at his side again. Trying to reconcile her appearance with Chuck's notoriety.

Awkward pause.

"You never told me you had a sister Charles?" conversation filler.

"I don't," turns to walk away, grabs Eva's hand, pulls her to follow.

"Chuck wait," she calls, face falls, imagines doe eyes hurt and confused. Hand touches his shoulder lightly.

"Just leave me alone," not snapped, doesn't bother to turn. Hard cold, raw. Desperation underneath, that's what makes the feather touch fade.

Keeps on walking (limping) weak. Eva follows, wide eyed, hesitant. Serena stands, alone, forlorn, watching a boy she knew since childhood, a boy she knew no longer, walk away.

It was easy to lose yourself in Paris.

"Do you want to talk about it?" only asks him back at the apartment.

"No."

She doesn't ask him again.

They share some éclairs and watch a romantic comedy (all in French, he only understands every second word). She laughs, he smiles. They snuggle together for warmth.

No mention of the blonde girl.

Charles didn't have a sister, he didn't have a past.

That girl was mistaken.

"Chuck," cringes at the name (the reminder).

Came out to get some fresh air, a walk to clear his head. Was confronted with a blonde bombshell who's looks were better suited to a beauty pageant and not these cobbled streets.

"Chuck you can't keep on running from me," grabs his arm, more authorative this time. Turns, glares at her.

"Does it look like I can run anywhere?" sarcastic, biting. Old habits die hard. Her hand falls, stunned.

"Sorry," bites her red lips. "What happened to you...I mean why are you...?" limping, weak, different.

"Just leave me alone," Goes to turn again.

"Don't be like that Chuck. Do you know how worried everyone at home has been?" accusatory.

Doesn't reply to this, just keeps on walking resolute. She follows. No one cared about Chuck Bass, no one missed him, least of all him.

"I mean why are you wearing jeans? Who is that girl you're with? And what are you doing here?"

Most important to least important in that order.

Following him, matching his steps easily. He'd underestimated Serena's powers of persistence.

"If you don't answer me I'm just going to keep on following you," smug, superior, cocky. Old sibling rivalry. They had never really been siblings though, just playing at it, she should have realised that.

Sighs, stops dead, she has to back up. Looks at her.

"Remember when you went to boarding school?"

Blinks, slow trying to understand. Furrowed brows, confused blue eyes. Reminds him of Nate. Brushes that aside.

"Yes?" curious, curiosity killed the cat.

"You tried to reinvent yourself..."

Pause, he thinks she may have gotten it finally.

"But...Chuck..." But you're Chuck Bass?

"It's Charles now, just Charles..." short, brief, sharp. Chuck Bass died in an alley in Prague. Alone, Unloved. Shot, done, dusted.

Pause, he turns to walk away.

"Just because you've got a new name doesn't change anything Chuck." Adamant, she knew.

He ignores her. She didn't know anything. She didn't understand. She was the only one who did understand.

The past eventually catches up to you.

"Let's leave." Spontaneous over dinner. He had been planning up to this, moody, brooding. Then it suddenly bursts out.

"Leave?" Suprise, wide blue eyes.

"Yes, go somewhere else." Start anew. Again.

"But...We just got here Charles...?" Does this have something to do with that girl? Silent questions, never spoken.

"And we can go somewhere else, anywhere else Eva. Imagine all the possibilities." Forces a smile, stretched lips far too tense.

"But we just settled in. The rent..." It's far too expensive. Reserved. Money limits everything.

"I'll take care of it," dismissive. It was something Chuck Bass would say. "Don't worry," quickly rectifies the careless statement as she searches his eyes, wrinkle puckering her forehead as she thought. Smiles, wider. Smiles made life's worries disappear.

"Where do you want to go?"

Far away.

"Name a place." Anywhere as long as it wasn't here. Wasn't...

"New York," laughs at the ridiculousness of the idea. Fairytales and dreams poor people like her could never manage. Doesn't notice as his face whitens.

New York. Home.

"Are you all right Charles?" all concern as she notices his silence and pale face, even after her laughter had faded.

A pause, just a second to collect himself. A second too long.

"I think that's a bit far, even for me," forces the smile on again. This time the wrinkle on her forehead didn't smooth out.

"I was only joking of course," forces a small puzzled smile of her own, in response.

A pause. Of course she was joking. Normal people didn't have bottomless accounts. Money made the world go around.

"What about Rome?"

"Rome?" blinks slowly, lets it roll off her tongue. Laughs at the sheer delight.

"Rome, tomorrow," it's a statement now. He can see she's captured.

Blinks suddenly, comes to herself and looks at him with wide eyes.

"You're not..." serious?

"I'll take care of it, all you have to do is pack," Quickly. He feels like he's wearing a mask as he forces the smile to resemble an excited grin. "It's the least I could do." You saved my life, now I have to salvage it.

"Rome then...?" hesitant. Are you all right?

"Rome." Determined. Now I'm fine.

Rome may not have been built in a day, but Chuck Bass could be lost in one.

While she's busy packing he grabs the papers from deep within his suitcase. Final signature that was all that was needed. (That and an envelope).

Grabs a simple blue pen, nothing special.

Signs Chuck Bass' life away.

I'd rather be nothing then Chuck Bass.

Writing scrawled under his eyelids as he walks with Eva in the station.

Blurs together. Nothing, Chuck Bass.

He squeezes her hand. She smiles at him.

"I'll go get the tickets, wait here," doesn't want her to see the many bank notes stashed in his wallet. Everyone needed some money to start anew. Bad money, dirty money. Money of lust and greed and envy.

Waits in line like everyone else, controls his impatience. Normal, he wanted this. Normal.

Taps his foot. Normal, normal, normal.

Smiles relieved to have the tickets in hand. Doesn't (tries not to) think about how Chuck Bass would have been out of this country by now.

Turns to go back to Eva, walking.

Cane taps against the concrete. Beating out a pattern.

Nothing, Chuck Bass. Nothing, Chuck Bass.

Glances up to look for Eva.

And he sees her.

Her from his nightmares, her from his dreams.

Standing there, looking at him. Red all over. Lust, hate, passion, love.

Not Charles' Eva, Chuck's...

"Blair..."

He should have known.

You can't run from your past.

He should have known.

Chuck Bass ran. He always ran, far away, fast.

He may have dressed different, talked different, acted different. Called himself another name. But he had always just been Chuck playing dress ups.

He proved that by doing what he did best, running.

Now it was time to turn and fight.

He likes to think that would be something Charles would do. (He knows Charles never existed in the first place).

Leaves Paris like he planned.

Heads for New York. Home.

Even though he knows that it would be better to go with his first instinct.

Run fast, run far.

Better for everyone concerned.

Bleeding hearts need time to heal. Clutches the small jewellery box with the stone inside. He knows his never will.

He should have known.

When it came to Blair Waldorf he always lost.

Ne Me Quitte Pas mon cher

A/N: I wrote this before I watched Double Identity. Except for a good portion of the end. Which is why I skipped the Blair/Chuck scene which was just awesome and perfect on the show! Kind of scary that it was similar except for the whole Henry Prince thing. Anyway I loved the start of this season (except the whole stupid judgmental Rufus, and Dan being so dumb as to believe Georgina.)

Anyway I thought I would put this up since I did write it and it's sort of the same style as "Sometimes Love Just isn't enough", so it's a prequel I suppose though you don't have to read it go do it now = P!

I shall be putting up another chapter for Sometimes Love just isn't enought, so all updates for this shall be on that story if you want to add it to story alert Thanks for the reviews they inspired me to write more. = ), although let me know if you still want to read it now the season has started. Mine is more like a lost angsty Chuck.

Please review and you'll send Chuck a rainbow! = P

Song by Regina Spektor: Ne Me Quitte Pas (I think it means I will never leave you my dear or don't leave me my dear = S lol Anyway the lyrics are very fitting).