-1Author : Laura (alwaysbluex)

Summary : "Blair's takes a slow drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke invade her lungs and seep slowly out her nose. " What happens those two weeks during the holiday's she's completely alone and without anyone? Post 2x13.

Disclaimer: I don't own gossip girl.

A/N: this story is reeling me in, I had to do another chapter! But, no school today because of a huge snow storm, and no more for two weeks ! Lots of updates this weekend with most of my stories!

The alcohol flowed freely through her veins, the feeling extending from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes. She climbed up on the bar, men cheering her on, women on either side of her, and began to dance. Feeling so alive was such a new thing to her-- usually she was restricted and held back, always the ice queen. But tonight she was getting away from it all, feeling comfortably numb in her own skin.

"A hundred dollars and any of you fine gentleman can take me home," the girl on the right side of her yelled, they were so close together that their hips were touching. Blair giggled, still on top of the bar table, dancing with these girls she had met merely minutes ago. Their names weren't processed in her brain, but she didn't care. They both smelt of cheap, tacky perfume. But Blair oddly enjoyed it tonight. Routine is exactly what she didn't want in her life at this very moment.

"I want to get down now." she slurred after what seemed like endless dancing, trying to hop down from the barstool, but not knowing how to attempt it.

"Here, take my hand." a soothing voice said.

Blair looked down to see a man holding out his hand for her. Without thinking, she quickly grabbed onto him.

"And I haven't even bought you a drink yet," the man laughed, a playful smirk on his lips. She turned away from him, embarrassed. "Sorry about that, I lost my footing," she said sheepishly, taking a seat on the stool next to him.

"That's okay." He nodded, still chuckling.

Blair discreetly looked over and stared at the man before her. He was tall, with dark hair and blue eyes. She smirked, he really was a knock-out. He definitely reminded her of someone familiar, she just couldn't figure out who with her mind this hazy. She extended a hand. "Blair Waldorf," she said, unintentionally licking her ruby lips.

"Jack." He said, his hand reaching into hers.

"Not going to tell me your last name?" she said, still smirking.

He shrugged, still smiling. "Not important, really."

"Are you going to buy me a drink?" she asked, her finger tracing the outline of her plunging neckline.

"Of course, what kind of guy would I be if I didn't?"

"I'll take a dry martini." Blair said, nodding towards the bartender.

"Why does the name Waldorf sound so familiar?" the man before her questioned out loud. Blair's stomach plunged. Oh god, here we go, she thought. She shrugged nonchalantly, looking away from his gaze.

"Wait … Blair Waldorf?" he questioned.

Meekly she nodded her head, watching his face change.

"I'm Jack Bass."

Her stomach lurched at the name Bass even being uttered. She looked over, finally realizing who this man was. She had met him at the occasional party when she was little. The last time she heard his name, he was married to an 18-year-old model and living in Paris.

"As in Chuck's uncle?" Blair sputtered.

He nodded. "I came to pay my respects to my brother, and see how Chuck was."

Blair looked down, her eyes once again becoming glassy. She cursed herself for crying over him, promising she wouldn't do it anymore.

"But I haven't been able to find Chuck anywhere, neither can my PI," he continued. "Which is why I came for a drink. I'm here to regroup."

She looked up, quickly wiping the evidence of sadness from her voice. "Chuck's gone, he left tonight and I haven't the slightest clue where he's gone, not that I care." she added, pursing her lips.

Jack looked slightly taken aback by Blair's words. Quickly, she tried to defend herself. "Chuck and I, we're mere acquaintances. I tried helping him after his father's death and he threw it back in my face."

"I can tell you're lying," he said, studying her suddenly fallen face.

"How?" She questioned, desperately wanting to know how she gave her feelings away.

"Your eyes." he said simply. "When I mentioned my last name, I noticed all the twinkle leave from your eyes."

"you two were ... together?" heasked, fully knowing the answer.

Blair nodded, her head still buzzing. "It's a really long story. I think it all started with the limo."

"What do you mean, 'Chuck's gone?'" Jack asked, snapping Blair out of her past sexual encounters with Chuck.

"He left a note saying he was leaving, for good, and that I shouldn't come looking." She watched him give her sympathetic eyes. "Which is exactly what I'm doing," she snapped. "So, if you'll excuse me."

"Wait…" he said, grabbing her arm tightly.

"Don't," Blair spat. "Just don't bother. You're wasting your breath."

"I'm going to look for him," he said quickly. "I'll bring him to you when I find him, because I know deep down you care for him. Even if right now you're too bitter to admit it." With that, he was gone. She slowly turned around to see him pushing through the crowd of cheerful, buzzing people.

The tears began to sting her eyes, as subconsciously she made her way to the bathroom, her eyes going right to the deserted stall. Before she knew what was happening, she was on her knees, sputtering, choking, and sobbing uncontrollably, which just led to more choking. She sobbed for many reasons. One reason was because she was past this, way past this. It wasn't what she wanted for herself. Another, she was all alone, completely alone. Jack was right, she was a bitter, mean person who would really never let love in, because love had let her down so much. Mostly, she cried because she missed Chuck, she missed him so much it physically hurt her.

Slowly, she wiped her face dry of tears and mascara. Leaning against the wall, her head began to throb uncontrollably. Suddenly, a loud bang came from the other side of the wall and she froze up completely. Usually she took her time, locked the bathroom door, made sure no one was in the stalls, and then went for it. This time, however, she had forgotten to lock the bathroom.

She sat up, smoothing out her dress and running a finger under each eye to get rid of excess make-up. She opened the door and came face-to-face with a girl sitting on the sink, lighting up. "It's okay, I'm a model." she said, shrugging as if it explained anything.

Blair scoffed. "I just had too much to drink."

The girl before her smiled. "No, you didn't." she said, taking a puff of her cigarette. "You were making yourself sick. I can tell the difference, easily."

She rolled her eyes, making her way to the sink beside this girl she didn't know, and never wanted to know. Her hands shook under the cold water as she splashed her face with it.

"I'm Emily by the way," the girl said, sticking her hand out to Blair's. She completely dismissed the handshake. The girl looked no more than sixteen, and was wearing dark black skinny jeans and a violet silk top. Okay, maybe Blair liked the top, but the rest of the girl's appearance screamed trouble--something she didn't need right now.

"Cigarette?" She offered, holding out the carton.

"You've got to be kidding me." Blair scoffed. "Blair Waldorf does not, nor will she ever, smoke. Do you know what that does to you?"

"So she finally tells me her name!" Emily exclaimed, tossing her empty butt in the near-by trash can. "Blair Waldorf, huh?" She continued. "Sounds like an Upper East Side name."

"As a matter of fact, it is," Blair said, hands resting on her hips. "Where are you from?"

"Brooklyn."

"Of course you are," she scoffed.

"What's wrong with Brooklyn?" Emily questioned nonchalantly, lighting up again.

"There are many things, but I won't be discussing them with you." Blair said, turning around and heading for the exit.

"Wait!" Emily yelled. Blair stopped, but did not turn around. "You really need to loosen up, Blair Waldorf." she mocked.

Blair huffed, and headed quickly for the door. She needed to get out of this place.