Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl or any of the characters – I just like to write about them. This work of fanfiction combines ideas from the novels and from the TV show.
How does it feel?
When you're
the stupid one
And all your games are done
I really wanna know,
how does it feel?
To see me pass you by
All hugged up with some
guy
I really wanna know, how does it...
How Does It Feel by Sweetbox
Nate sat at the bar, feeling completely useless. Something was seriously wrong with Blair. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't accept his presents from Tiffany's, and maybe most importantly - she wouldn't have sex with him. He tried over and over to talk to her, but she refused to confide in him. So, he decided to drown his sorrows in the Plaza's bar. Or to try and help his horniness.
"Nathaniel!" Chuck exclaimed, slapping Nate on the back. "How are things?"
Nate motioned to the empty seat next to him. "If you really wanna know, take a seat."
Chuck shot him a sympathetic look. "That bad? Problems in paradise? Blair issues?"
Nate sighed and shrugged his broad shoulders. "I don't fucking know. She's been so weird lately. Sometimes I don't know why I'm with her. She's so much stress and trouble."
"Bartender! A martini for me and another shot of vodka for my dear friend," Chuck ordered. He turned back to Nate and said, "Dump her then."
Nate twirled back and forth on his stool, feeling tipsy. He laughed. "Dude, you're telling me to dump her? Weren't you the one that was always like, 'Bang that girl all night!'"?
"What can I say?" Chuck said, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm a changed man. I've met an amazing girl – did Blair tell you?"
Nate shook his head. "Blair hasn't told me anything. I'm not sure she's spoken to anyone the past few days."
Chuck could hardly resist from smiling gleefully. Could Blair really be that upset about his little show in the hotel suite? It seemed almost too easy – unfair even. He was expecting a challenge, or at least a bitchy phone call. So far, he hadn't gotten either.
"Mmm," Chuck replied, taking another sip. "I don't know what to tell you. Maybe she isn't the girl for you."
Nate scratched his ear slowly, thinking about Chuck's words. Blair, not the girl for him? They were practically inseparable and had been that way since birth. Maybe he needed someone new.
"Things just used to be so simple, you know?" Nate said wistfully. "No drama, no fights. Just us, kissing and holding hands."
Chuck smirked. "This isn't middle school, Nathaniel. Time to grow up and time to move on."
"Maybe…" Nate said reluctantly. "Anyway, I've got a meeting with the Captain
about college and you know how anal he gets when I'm late. If I don't leave now, he'll probably call and start threatening to cut me off."
Chuck sarcastically saluted Nate. "Have fun with that."
Nate stepped off his stool and began to walk to the door. After a few steps he turned around and asked, "How was planning with Blair? You guys get a lot done?"
"Well, if you ask Blair, she'll say it was a waste of time. Me, on the other hand, well…I feel like it was time well spent. Everything happened exactly the way I wanted it to."
--
Blair paced around her room, nearly running over her precious cat, Kitty Minky. She felt tortured and faint – like an actress in a dramatic romance, waiting to confront her husband after finding out about his affair. Too bad she wasn't acting, and she wished she didn't care about his "affair".
Chuck and that…whore. Who the hell was she, anyway? She looked like one of the French girls Nate used to talk to after school while ordering his pizza. Or maybe she was someone from school. Or maybe she was a prostitute.
"Kitty Minky," Blair sighed, picking up her cat and stroking her gently. "What am I supposed to do? I thought…I thought something happened between us."
Kitty Minky meowed quietly and rubbed her head against Blair's chest. Blair placed her back on the floor and flopped onto her bed, her brown hair flying everywhere. She rolled over onto her flat stomach, which had become even more concave since she hadn't eaten in three days, and crawled up to the very top of her bed to stare at her cell phone.
Blair felt like a loser. Never in her life had she sat by her phone, waiting for a call or text. Yet here she was, desperate for anything from Chuck. Her patheticness made herself sick, and she hated that she felt so vulnerable. Why did she give a fuck anyway? She had a great boyfriend who she loved with all her heart. Why did she care who that horny shitface Chuck screwed?
But she cared. She cared way more than she was supposed to, but she couldn't stop herself. Blair wanted to call Chuck up and scream and rant and bitch and ask 'How could you?!', but she refused to. She didn't want to give Chuck the satisfaction of knowing how badly he had hurt her.
There, she finally admitted it. She was hurt. Devastated. In shock. When her and Chuck had sex, there was something there. Something special. She had been so sure he had felt it, but obviously not. He already moved on, and was excited to show her that he had. Time for Blair to do the same.
Besides, what's better than a little revenge?
--
Chuck ambled down the street, heading towards Blair's apartment. The smile on his face seemed permanent – his plan had worked! Blair had called earlier, and asked him over in a sultry voice after apologizing for the fit she threw at the Plaza. She told him she wanted to make it up to him and that her family wasn't home. Not like Blair's mother cared anyway, but it made it less awkward.
As Blair's building came into sight, Chuck felt his heart beat faster. Being with Blair always made him feel unstable, like he could have a heart attack at any moment. The feeling was weird for him; no one else had ever made him feel like that before. He liked to be in full control of his emotions, but it was hard to be with Blair. Behind her frigid bitch façade there was something about her that was so endearing, so innocent, and so fragile. Chuck felt himself falling for her, and it scared him.
So, he concocted his brilliant plan to have Blair stumble upon him fucking the shit out of another girl. Cruel and unnecessary – perhaps. But it kept Chuck in charge. Blair was hurt and upset. He was calling all the shots. There was no chance of Blair Waldorf screwing him over.
The doorman opened the door for him as he approached and Chuck waltzed up to the elevator.
"Where to Mr. Bass?" the elevator man inquired, ready to push a button.
"The Waldorf's floor."
--
Blair pushed Nate against the wall and hurriedly attempted to unbutton his shirt. She pressed her lips against his, her eyes glued to the door. Where the hell was Chuck?!
Blair successfully tugged Nate's shirt off, and moved onto his belt. It was confusing, with a complicated latch and weird holes. She struggled to get it off. "Dammit," she muttered under her breath.
"Blair," Nate said, gently removing her hands from his belt. "What's wrong? You haven't let me touch you in days and now you're practically ripping my clothes off."
Tears sprang to her eyes. The past week, Blair felt edgy, tired, and depressed, like a horrible case of PMS that wouldn't go away. She felt unsexy and unloved, and wanted to vomit every time she thought of Chuck with that slut. "Are you rejecting me!? Do you not want to have sex?!" Blair demanded, attempting to clear her throat and sound strong, not like she was going to start sobbing at any second.
"That isn't what I'm saying," Nate said, trying to explain. "I'm just confused."
"Shut up Nate. There's nothing to be confused about. I need you now," Blair whispered, hoping she sounded seductive and horny. Chuck was due to arrive at any moment and her plan would be foiled if Nate wasn't willing to obey. Any other day they'd already be completely naked in her bed, but today had to be the day Nate decided to think about things.
Blair pulled her blouse over her head, leaving only her deep red bra on and her short black skirt. She pushed Nate back up against the wall and kissed him passionately as his hands snaked around her body, caressing the small of her back and squeezing her toned ass.
"Knock, knock," a voice shouted as the door to the penthouse swung open. In the doorway was Chuck Bass, wearing one of his signature sweaters and a green scarf, looking as if he had been punched in the gut. Blair was pressed up against Nate, both lacking shirts, and Nate's hands were on Blair's ass.
As Blair moved away from Nate to repeat the lines she practiced over and over to Chuck, she was taken back. She thought she saw some sadness in his eyes, some hurt, but then convinced herself otherwise – Chuck had no feelings.
"Oh Chuck!" Blair giggled and picked up her blouse off the ground. "I totally forgot you were coming. Nate and I just got done in the bedroom and we were coming downstairs to get something to eat and, well…here you are!"
Chuck locked his dark eyes onto Blair's. He grinned slightly, hoping that he would be able to keep down his lunch. And not punch Nate in the face. "That's fine. Are you two busy? I could come back later."
Nate pulled his shirt over his head and adjusted his golden hair. "No, we're done. I've got to get going anyway."
Blair pouted. "Nate, the house is going to be empty for the rest of the day! You can't just leave!"
Nate grabbed Blair and kissed her roughly. She kept her eyes open and glanced at Chuck, whose jaw was clenched and hands curled into fists. Was he hurt? Angry? Jealous? She was dying to know, but wished she didn't care. "I'll text you," he said. Nate walked past Chuck and out the door, leaving Chuck and Blair alone.
Blair shifted uncomfortably and tapped her right foot on the tile. "I guess we should get started then," she said stiffly, not knowing what to do. She hadn't expected Chuck to stay, or to keep staring at her with such…intensity.
Chuck laughed softly. "How long is this going to go on for Blair? How long are you going to try and get back at me for being done with you? You know, revenge isn't good for your health and it isn't very becoming of you. I expected better from you."
Blair half-smiled and shook her long, brown hair behind her thin shoulders. "Who said anything about revenge?"
