Gossip Girl

P.O.V. Chuck Bass

Sometimes, New York City is a difficult place to live in as Chuck Bass (A.K.A. the richest 18 year old on the upper East Side) has learned many times over. The air in the night club was thick with tension, anticipation, and the thrill of the night. This is Chuck Bass' favorite place to be when he's not having such a hot day. On days like today.

"Why don't we go somewhere more...Quiet?" The girl on Chuck's right whispered into his ear, her mouth slightly curled into a seductive smile.

Swishing his glass of the strongest Champagne in the club in a small circle, he replied, placing a reassuring arm around the young lady, "Be patient, wait your turn." Then averted his eyes back to the dancers on the stage. He wasn't really there though, not in mind anyways. No, Chuck Bass was in a drunken fantasy of a better life. A life he once had. He had everything. His Hotel. A loving family. And Blair. His Blair.

No, not anymore. That life is gone now. He'll never get it back. He knows that. After losing her, Chuck realized he had nothing left. Nor did he really care to have anything.

This small scared part of Chuck Bass often wonders why he's even still alive. He should've jumped off of that roof when he had the chance. So why didn't he? Because of Blair, of course. That's always his only answer. Because she told him not to. Not to leave her like that...

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts."Finally! There you are!" Chuck looked up from picking up his fourth glass of Champagne to see a tall lanky boy with short blonde hair that happened to be his stepbrother, Eric. And surprisingly with his newest stepsister, Jenni.

"Well, hello there Jenni, always a surprise." He smiled . He couldn't help it. After Blair ran Jenni out of town for doing the... Unspeakable, things had been a bit rocky with his new step-family. However upset he was now, he was glad he might be able to at least salvage his newfound family.

But the happiness couldn't last for long. He was Chuck Bass, and today was, to say the least, a very bad day. No, Chuck had already made up his mind that he would sit here and drink. He would get drunk and wallow in his madness whether anyone liked it or not. " I'm glad you made it to the party!" He greeted with a devilish smirk, gesturing to the three girls clinging to either side of him.

"Ughh! You're drunk!" Jenni cried in irritation. "And I guess YOU'VE forgotten what day it is too?"

He stared blankly at her, then sighed. "Look, I can assure you that I have no idea nor do I remotely care what day it is."

Back into the darkness.

"Uhm, when YOUR decisions affect everyone in our family, I'm sorry but you don't have a choice." Jenni made to reach for Chuck's wrist, ready to drag him out of the room if need be, but he snatched away when she got close.

" When, will you people learn to leave. Me. Alone." He said through gritted teeth. " You don't think I know what day it is? It's the day my life got torn apart! I know that! And I'm dealing with it MY way! Now either enjoy the party or leave!

"That's not exactly what I was talking about... But..." She saw the pain in Chuck's eyes. He tries to hide it but she can see past his fasade.

"Well, I don't care. Just... Go away... You're ruining my drunk." He then turned to the young lady beside him that he had been flirting with the most and slowly started inching his way up her neck and across her jawline with his lips. His favorite way to ease the pain.

"I am sorry for everything that's happened Chuck." Jenni said after a few minutes. Then took a deep breath, " But you're gonna have to explain to Lilly then why exactly you're skipping out on the really important dinner they've been planning for weeks with the Valentinos."

"Just tell her I'm sorry but I'm having a... Down day. She'll understand."

"Ohhhhhh, no. You're telling her yourself."

"Fine." Back to distraction.

Falling back into the darkness. He couldn't stand the look of sorrow in Jenni's eyes every time she saw him. After all, it wasn't completely her fault. She had been upset. And of course, to ease his own pain, Chuck took advantage of the weakness. It was just as much his fault as it was Jenni's. If not more. But he was weak too. Blair was too late... She didn't want him after all. Or at least he thought she didn't.

Well, even if so, she definitely didn't want him now.

The night is slowly slipping into a blur with each drink. The perfect time of the night. The time in drunkeness when you can no longer focus on anything in particular and it's the last thing you remember from the night before falling into the pitch black drunken state. This is the part that Chuck Bass has been waiting for all night long. He doesn't focus on anything but the drink in his hand, the girls beside him, and the dancers on stage. This is his clarity. A utopia couldn't compare to this.

The taste of the air around Chuck was thick and bitter. The side of his face felt like it had been hit with a cinderbrick. Who's knows, in the state he felt like he was in, it probably had.

He sat up and groned as pain shot through his side. it was a little hard to open his eyes but when he did he was taken aback by what he saw. He moved his lips and was greeted by a sudden mouthful of blood. What the hell happened last night? He wondered. Last he remembered, he was in his nightclub... So where was he now? And how did he get there?

He couldn't remember anything after he apparently left the nightclub. But he felt like something very bad had happened last night. Well, besides the obvious beating he must have endured. For a split second he wondered who it was.

"HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?" A man in the front of the room shouted in a french accent at him.

Oh no, he was back in France.

"THEES IS NOT A HOTEL! YOU CAN'T SLEEP HERE!"

" I'm sorry! I'm sorry, mosieur!" He groned, standing up.

The owner of the pub started pushing Chuck out of the door. "You geet out! You can't sleep here!"

Chuck grabbed his jacket from the chair by the door and ducked outside. He wondered what had happened this time. Had he been robbed again? At least there were no real wounds this time. Only scratches and bruises and possibly a broken nose and some knuckles. No stab or gun shot wounds. He checked his pockets and found a couple receipts for dinners, and something new, a key. He had never seen this key before. It was elegant looking. Like it belonged to the white house or something. He then found a number with the name Whitney beside it. That was new too. An earsplitting ring suddenly came from his pocket. He took out his phone. It was an unknown number.

He hesitated for a second then spoke into the phone, "Hello?"

The sound of deep breathing filled the earpeice for a few seconds, then, an unfamiliar voice, " You took the love of my life, now I'm gonna take the love of your's."

"What are you talkin about man? I don't even know who you are."

"Oh yes you do. You crossed the line last night buddy. Now you're gonna pay. And don't even think about trying to leave the country to go back to your precious little America because I'll be watching you. And I will know. And either way I don't think you'd want to leave something behind." And the voice switched to peircing screams. " Chuck! Are you there Chuck?"

"Blair? Blair! Yes! Yes, I'm here! I'm gonna get you out of there! I promise!"

" Chuck!" And her voice was gagged. For a second he heard just her struggling against them. Then he heard a yowl of pain from the man followed by a slap.

"No! Stop! Just.. Just stop! What do you want? I'll do anything, just let her go!"

"You were supposed to be my friend! And you killed her! You killed my her!"

"What! You've got to be mistaken. I.. I haven't killed anyone."

"You're a dead man Mr. Bass. And so is Miss. Waldorf over here but I want to make you watch and suffer her death. Who knows. I might not even kill you. I might deside to let you live your pathetic life alone. With no one. Let you be the one to decide whether to kill yourself or not. Because it will come to that point."

Then there was a click and the phone went dead.

"FUCK!" Chuck screamed. His whole world was crashing again. Had he really killed someone? He couldn't have...

He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket. He was holding it the whole time. A small but dangerous 6 inch pocket knife. And covered in blood.