Hello (:

I had no homework today.

And I like this story.

So I decided to multi-chapter it, which I will go ahead and apologize beforehand for because chapter stories are not my niche. I'm pretty much better at those short, intense, bada bing bada bam! kind of stories, so…

Enjoy!

Moon River, wider than a mile,
I'm crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you're going I'm going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There's such a lot of world to see.
We're after the same rainbow's end--
waiting 'round the bend,
my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.

Moon River
-Breakfast at Tiffany's

Even if he wants to, he can't take his eyes off the bride. From her tumbling auburn tresses, to her sheer veil, from the laced bodice of her satin wedding gown to the peep-toe Manolos resting on her dainty feet, she's an absolute vision. The only thing ruining the perfect bride standing before him is the man waiting for her. Nathaniel Archibald, his best friend, is the one gazing lovingly at her from the end of the aisle, and it hurts him so much when he realizes he had the chance to be that man. To be the man starry-eyed, mouth falling open at the sight of the woman he will be able to spend the rest of his life with.

His own wedding, although grander than the Waldorf-Archibald wedding, was more or less a disappointment. It'd been held in Spain, where his bride was from and he knew not one of the guests. As they spoke rapid Spanish congratulations, he smiled and muttered 'gracias', looking around for at least one familiar face.

This wedding is different. As he gazes around the room he sees his whole high school class and all their families. He sees Serena, smiling broadly at Blair, being the proud best friend and bridesmaid that she is. He sees Isabelle, looking not a day older twenty, and perfectly ravishing in her bridesmaid dress that complements her skin beautifully. He sees Lily, Rufus, Eleanor, Harold, and Roman all looking proudly at the newlywed couple. On the outside he wears a perfected smile on his face, but on the inside, the rarely-present vulnerability begins to wear his strong façade down.

"Now, you may kiss the bride," the minister announces.

Chuck looks away. Why not just take a knife and stab him right here? The way Nathaniel runs his long, tapered fingers down the nape of Blair's neck as he presses her to him, the way Blair caresses Nathaniel's golden locks as she further deepens the kiss, is starting to make the room spin a little for Chuck. He feels sick to his stomach, and can only reason that he's feeling jealous. But furthermore, he feels pain, and not his usual physical, yearning, sexual pain, but an aching in his heart. He had just admitted he was still in love with her, and somehow she manages to kiss Nathaniel like nothing he says will ever change her mind.

-x-

He still can't keep his eyes off of her. She's on the dance floor sharing her first dance with Nathaniel as Mrs. Waldorf-Archibald. His mind flashes back to the Cotillion ball, his limo, her bedroom, the house in the Hamptons. His teeth are beginning to hurt from him clenching them so hard. Somehow, this pain feels so much better than the burning internal pain he feels watching Blair and Nathaniel's perfected steps to Moon River. Why is it that for seven years, his mind rarely drifted back to his high school years, but now as he sits alone at the Waldorf-Archibald wedding, he sees his entire high school career flash by him? The most painful part is picturing in explicit detail, every regret, every mistake, everything he wishes he could change.

"Hey, man, I'm going to get some air, maybe take a smoke. Mind watching Blair for me?" Nathaniel's voice cuts through his stroll through memory lane.

"Me? Are you…sure?" He can't trust himself. He doesn't want to hurt Nathaniel, especially for something he's done before.

"Yeah, no problem, man. Anyways, didn't you guys have some old high school thing? Go make conversation about that," Nathaniel grins at him.

Chuck's stomach tightens in agony.

"Sure," Chuck reluctantly agrees.

-x-

Chuck walks onto the dance floor, seeing Blair dancing with her father.

"Excuse me? May I cut in?" he asks politely. Well, as politely as Chuck Bass can be.

"Sure, son," Harold says, almost knowingly.

Chuck ignores Harold's gesture of knowledge of Chuck's intentions, and writes it off as a gay thing.

"Chuck, are you high? This is not a good idea," she groans. He can hear the desperation and tender ache in her voice, and somehow this makes him feel better. At least now he knows he's not the only one suffering.

"Look, Nathaniel asked me to watch you while he goes for some air, just relax, sheesh. You bitches get crazier every day," he sighs, securing his right arm around her waist.

"And you bastards become more of a pain-in-the-ass every waking minute," she shoots back.

"Why thank, you. I take pleasure in my title as Chuck Bass, that mother chucking basshole," he winks. She flushes as she remembers all the ridiculous names she used to call him.

He pulls her closer to him, relishing every moment he has her in his arms. He'll never be able to do this again, for his sake and hers.

"Blair, just remember, if anything ever happens, I'll be here for you," he whispers into her ear, one hundred percent sincerely. If anything, Blair needs to know that he doesn't have to be with her for them to maintain the relationship they have. Even though friendship will never be an option for them, she needs to know that he'll always have her back.

"Thanks, I'll miss you, you know," Blair replies just as sincerely, and once again tears spring into her eyes, knowing she's letting him go for the last time.

-x-

He sits in the back of his limo, chugging vodka, trying to mend his broken heart the way he did when he was young. Shot after shot, he realizes why he had acted in such a juvenile manner back then. Alcohol could fill the void in his heart then because he had never experienced what he was missing. Now he understands why he always feels an absence there. It might be because of Misty. It might be because of Bart. But most likely, it's because of Blair. Now, as he drinks, he still feels the emptiness there, clear as day, but the rest of his surroundings blurring into a drunken haze.

Suddenly. A swerve. A screech. A jolt. Screaming, coming from himself, something he's never done his whole life. It's a high pitched, it's possible I die right here kind of scream, and it frightens even himself. He feels a crunch, and he struggles to breath realizing he can barely filter air into his lungs. Then, blackness.

Oh my god. What happened to Chuck? I hope I don't make him die, I really, really hope.

Anyways, I know I'm not a very well-known writer, so every review counts, and I appreciate and will reply to every one that's sent. You guys are AMAZING.