Chapter 2
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious...He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.
~ Albert Einstein
She continued to gaze at him, amusement in her eyes, until a short Asian girl sandwiched herself between them, breaking their contact.
"Nearly midnight!" she squealed, clearly drunk. She was dressed up, but her plaid dress and the glasses that were visible under her mask revealed that she was bookish, definitely the type who buried herself in school work until she was on the verge of exploding from the pressure and then released it all by getting completely wasted every once in a while. "And then, at midnight, everybody's masks will come off, and there's this guy I've been talking to, and we were discussing the cognitive dissonance theory, which is – "
"I know what it is!" The Asian girl visibly flinched at the beautiful girl's frigidity. "Nelly!" she continued, in a voice so staccato that Nelly took a couple steps backward. "If I were you, I would leave right this instant, as you've just publically embarrassed yourself enough to carry yourself into the next decade. Consider yourself lucky if I ever agree to be seen in public with you again." And with that, Nelly walked off forlornly, her mouth in a tight line, but she did what she was told and reached the exit without another word.
"Now if you'll excuse me, unfortunately, I must follow suit." Her playful tone was back, and she was giving Chuck her full attention. "The mystery is too much fun to let go of tonight, and it is almost twelve." Chuck couldn't believe it. He wanted to talk to this mystery woman all night. Well, he would have preferred to do more than just talk, but it was true that he could have gone without. He could get high off just her presence and wanted to bask in the light she was radiating.
"Don't go," he said, surprising himself and those who were listening. Was Chuck Bass begging for a girl to stay with him? Realizing his mistake, he replaced his genuine expression with one of his signature sultry smirks and added, "You may know a few things about me, but you certainly haven't seen the best parts I have to offer yet." She could tell he had meant it when he asked her not to go, but this was too rare an opportunity to pass up. She loved a good mind game, and he seemed like the player she had been waiting for – smart enough to hold his own against her and entertaining enough to keep her on her toes.
"True, and the majority of the females in the room could probably confirm it," she responded, a dazzling smile lighting her face. "But not to worry; you'll see me again sometime."
"All of you I hope."
She shook her head, now grinning widely. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Bass." And with that, she floated through the crowd and up the stairs into the unbearably hot August night.
I was with her of course, and while I usually pride myself on being the life of any party and would have attempted to take part in their conversation, by that point I was so drunk, it was a wonder I could even get up the stairs. I was lucky my best friend was there, that's for sure. I could feel her death grip on my forearm as she half-dragged me out of the party and onto the chaotic street where a sleek, black town car awaited us.
Chuck was still standing where she'd left him, almost as if he were in a trance.
"You okay?" Nate asked him chuckling at his friend's strange behavior.
"Of course, Nathaniel," Chuck answered robotically. "I just – " and there he faltered. Nate had never known it was possible for Chuck to lose his cool due to a girl, or anything for that matter, but this girl had flat-out rejected him (albeit in a roundabout and charming way) in the middle of a party. But whatever effect she'd had faded after a few moments, and Chuck pulled himself back together; wherever his head was before, it had now managed to find its way back to earth. "I just don't enjoy having to settle for my second choice," he finished, scanning the room for the tall redhead who had been giving him eye sex earlier.
"Then don't," Nate said as if it were obvious.
"Excuse me?" Chuck's expression was incredulous. "You're telling me that I should just go home? Come on, from the looks Firecracker over there was giving me, it would probably last all night…"
"You, know I thought I'd mentioned this before, but I'm going to go ahead and do it again. I don't need to hear every dirty thought that crosses your mind, man. Sometimes a filter can be a good thing," Nate said, grinning. He clearly wasn't all that perturbed, but he wasn't willing to let their previous subject drop. "Don't settle," he explained. "If you like her, and it's pretty obvious you do, then wait until you see her again. I'm sure she'll come around." Nate could tell his words had shocked Chuck even further, but he had been thinking for a while now that Chuck needed to slow down before he went through every breathing female on the Upper East Side. Things were beginning to get awkward at all the parties they went to, because Chuck's "one and done" mentality when it came to women did not appeal to them like it did Chuck. Nate had witnessed Chuck getting slapped a couple times this year, in addition to hoards of women flinging themselves on him in an attempt to become the exception to his rule. It was obvious to Nate that they would never be able to get him to bed them again, but it still made him uncomfortable to watch them try.
And while Chuck had picked up the womanizing habit from his father, Bart clearly did not like that he had acted on it so quickly. Chuck was only sixteen after all. Plus, Chuck was Bart's only heir to Bass Industries, and he wanted Chuck to have a good reputation when and if he had to take over. Though Bart had more of an absentee parenting style, and when he was there he tended to criticize Chuck constantly, Nate did see his point on this issue. Chuck, however, did not, or more likely he did, and he just continued to bed women out of both enjoyment of their company and the satisfaction of pissing off his father.
"And this is what you really think, Nathaniel?" Chuck's mouth formed a slight sneer, but his voice revealed his pure, genuine curiosity.
"I really do," Nate said honestly. "I really do."
On the other side of town, Jenny Humphrey was freaking out. She had not received an invite to the exclusive party, which she expected but was still disappointed by, but out of pity, Penelope had given her an address for another party, one she said was being hosted by a cute lacrosse player from Dalton. But when she reached the address and the cabbie had sped away, she realized it was an abandoned warehouse, and a sketchy one at that. The street was dark and the alleys endless, things she should have noticed but was too excited to realize. Across the pavement, she could see two men hunched over exchanging what appeared to be a Ziploc of white powder and a wad of cash thicker than any Jenny had every laid eyes on. One of the men looked vaguely familiar, but she immediately chastised herself for thinking so. How could should possibly know anyone buying drugs? As the sky above thundered menacingly, she reluctantly ran to a spot under the awning of the warehouse. Though she evidently wasn't going to be attending any parties tonight, she still didn't want to risk ruining the homemade dress she had slaved over for days. Sighing, Jenny pulled out her outdated, clunky cell, dialed, and shifted her feet as it rang.
"Cab service please," she said, her voice sugary sweet. She waited as she was connected to a New York taxi company and looked around anxiously as she did. On the door of the warehouse, she noticed a bright yellow paper fluttering in the relieving summer breeze.
"Go back to Brooklyn," she read allowed. "You don't belong here, and you never will." She felt her eyes begin to water. Whereas before, she had been convinced that Penelope had mistakenly given her the wrong address, it was obvious now that this was the exact scenario Penelope had imagined and planned to create, one that would both hurt and embarrass the incoming freshman desperate to be a member of the popular group at school. Jenny ran a shaky hand through her ashen blond hair and smoothed out the single crease she had not been able to iron out of the strapless pink creation, even after an hour of effort.
"Hello, NYC Taxis," she heard on the other end of the phone.
"Yes, hi," she managed to choke out. "A need a ride. To Brooklyn."
