A/N: I haven't updated in a really long time but I'm back on my game now and writing more. I know how this fic ends so it isn't like I'm stuck or anything, I just haven't gotten around to it. I'll try to update the other fics that I have going as well. This chapter won't be as awkward as the last one.

Summary: She wasn't completely blind. Chuck Bass was the most toxic and wonderfully horrible person for her. Their personalities grated and made so much friction that it created fires that consumed everything in its path. But she loved it. She loved him. No one could keep up with her like he could and no one could love each other with the passion and fury that they could.

Disclaimer: Only SL is mine. Characters belong to GG and other characters are inspired by GG.


It was official that Evelyn was going through a metamorphosis. No longer was she the self involved, egotistical dancer who she thought was everything. Now she had met someone who was just as self absorbed and indifferent as she was. And it was horrible. She had no idea how to deal with this and she hated it.

She waited in her own hallway, listening to his cool voice. At least he wasn't drunk. But he was ransacking her room. And that just wouldn't do. He thought he could just walk into her house (with the assistance of one Keith van der Woodsen who's life would obviously have to come to an end) when her mother was home? He had another thing coming. And it wasn't about the fact that he was dead. It was the fact that her mother would detest her even more than she already did. Bart Bass had to get out and he had to get out now.

"Evelyn."

In that one word, three syllables, Evelyn knew that she was made. Her mother knew everything. Her mother knew her and that was it. In her mother's eyes, she was just some rebel who didn't have a care in the world. But all Evelyn really wanted was her mother's approval, even if she really did hate the bitch.

Evelyn turned in her room, Eleanor by her side. She had successfully kicked out Bart while Keith was still allowed inside because that's who her mother really wanted her to marry. Like that was ever going to happen.

"I need to speak with you," came the cold voice, "without the interference of your friends." Basically... get the hell out. Eleanor and Keith knew the drill. That's just the way it was. If they were smart, they would relay the information to Bart to stay away. Forever.

"You know I do this all for you," she was told. "I want you to be happy--" yeah, okay "--I take you to those events and am hard on you for your dancing because I want you to meet people. Become a part of something." If there was one thing Evelyn learned from her mother, it was how to be cold.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"So that wasn't the new money trash that you were sneaking out of yor room?" her mother snapped. Evenlyn flinched. It wasn't fair. Just because her father left and she couldn't stand being alone, didn't mean that her mother had to take it out on her.

"I didn't bring you up this way to become a tramp."

And those were the magic words. It was only a matter of time.

"He's bringing you down. There is no way that he is marriage material. He's beneath you and you will have no part of him."

That was when it all came together.

Evelyn would be a part of him. She would be with him. She would have sex with him. She would fall in love with him. She didn't care that it was because of her mother's disapproval. She was already halfway there anyway. So she lied.

"Of course, Mother."


"Evelyn. Didn't you hear what I just said?"

Evelyn went with "yes," even though it was obvious that was a total and blatant lie.

"I'll tell you again anyway," Eleanor rolled her eyes. "I heard that Lily Rhodes was in Paris this whole time."

"Why?" Evelyn asked, though she honestly couldn't really care. She was going through something.

"Pregnancy."

This intrigued her, however. "From who? That one interaction with Keith like five years ago?"

"I heard it was some washed out musician. They had sex on the tour bus."

"Gross."

"But Cece almost disinherited her and now she's back."

"Praise the lord," Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Now Keith can get married."

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?" Evelyn feigned innocence.

"You're going to see him," Eleanor replied. "Aren't you?"

"I thought you didn't have a problem with him," Evelyn scowled.

"You're right, you know," Eleanor replied. "He's a shallow, womanizing, boozing sleaze. Why do you want to be a part of that?"

Evelyn sighed. "I have no idea."


Bart couldn't believe his eyes when he checked to see who was at his door. He really thought he wouldn't see her. Ever. She unceremoniously booted him from her room and he had no idea why. And yet she was.

"Are you going to let me in or not?" she called from the outside. She was a sharp one. He opened the door.

"What do we have here?" he smirked. Evelyn decided that she wanted to kiss that smirk. What the hell was wrong with her? She was about to find out. She slunk into the dark room, shouldering past him.

"You're going to have sex with me," Evelyn informed him.

"And why, pray tell, would that interest me in any way?"

"I'll answer you that if you tell me what you were doing going through my things."

"Touche."

"I'm glad we've come to an agreement."

He paused. "Why are you here?" Evelyn walked through the rooms finally spreading out across his bed. His muscles contracted, unable to make a move.

"Bart," she said with fake sweetness that just drew him in. "Is it so hard to believe that I might actually just like you?"

"Yes," he replied. "No one likes me."

"Don't you want me?" she asked with a sultry vulnerability that he knew was a show. He fell for it anyway.

"Oh I want you," he said gruffly.

He indulged in the drug that he never should have toked in the first place. She was his hash, his opium, his heroine. He was now hopelessly addicted and there was no going back.

present day.

She was hopelessly addicted. The problem wasn't that she knew it. The problem wasn't that he knew it. The problem wasn't even that dense and confused Nate knew it. The problem was that Blair Waldorf's father valued his precious little girl so much that he knew Blair wasn't the one with the problem. It was Chuck. And the next problem was that Harold had found a drunk and precarious Chuck Bass going through his only daughter's things. Disaster, it seemed, came in tenfold.

Chuck leaned away from Blair, his dark and hazy eyes trained on the one thing besides himself that might actually come in between him in the one thing that meant anything to him.

"Daddy," Blair whispered and Chuck knew why she was rushing him out of her room. She was protecting him. But nothing could really protect him any longer. Not when she wasn't going to see him ever again.

"What's going on?" Harold asked.

"Nothing," Blair said quickly. The room started spinning around Chuck and he knew that he had gone too far. He leaned away and to his surprise, Blair helped him lean against her bed for support.

"It doesn't seem like nothing."

Chuck knew this was bad. He was Chuck Bass. He majored in "this is bad" even though he never even went to college. Oh, cruel world.

"Chuck just had a bad day," Blair said. Chuck was trying to to focus on the fact that her hand was comfortingly on the back of his neck, where it usually was when her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

"So he decided to get drunk and ransack your room?" Harold asked.

"Its not a big deal," Blair shrugged nonchalantly. "He's just--"

"I'm not sure about this, Blair."

Harold was never really a father. He was growing more and more distant to his daughter by the day. He couldn't understand why she was so enamored with a boy who was so willing to do her harm.

"Harold, don't."

Harold couldn't believe that Eleanor was siding with insanity. He hated to think that her past with the Bass family was giving her such a bias. And he didn't like the relief that was flooding the Bass boy's face.

"This boy broke into Blair's room."

"He didn't," Blair protested blindly.

"Let it go," Eleanor sighed. "Just let it go."

Blair was glad that she didn't have to shove Chuck into her walk-in closet. They didn't do well with the whole stealth thing. Especially when he was so intoxicated like this. They were just too ostentatious with their personalities. Sooner or later, everyone found out.

Only when everyone had trailed from the room had Harold actually tried to parent.

"I don't like that boy."

"But why?" Blair asked. "He hasn't done anything."

"That you know of."

"Harold," Eleanor warned.

"What is going on?" Blair asked. This was her turf. She knew when people were hiding things and there was some definite bad blood going on here. She ruled at blood feuds. They were her favorite.

"I don't like him," Harold said simply. "I don't think he's good for you. Whatever happened to Nate?"

Blair rolled her eyes. She was so tired of this conversation.

"He was good for you."

"I love Chuck," Blair said the truth for the first time.

"You don't fit," Harold replied. "I don't want to see you doing something so unsavory like spreading gossip about that teacher and her relationship with her student."

Blair knew it didn't make any sense. Those two events didn't even correlate even though Miss Carr did end up having an affair with the Humphrey that Blair hated. But they were connected. Her father was once again disappointed in her and she couldn't handle it.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered, looking at the ground.

"He's just not right for you."

Blair knew he wasn't. She wasn't completely blind. Chuck Bass was the most toxic and wonderfully horrible person for her. Their personalities grated and made so much friction that it created fires that consumed everything in its path.

But she loved it. She loved him. No one could keep up with her like he could and no one could love each other with the passion and fury that they could. And in that one sentence, her father told her something that she knew all along.

She couldn't escape the Chuck Bass-tard and she never wanted to. Ever again. And that's how she ended up outside his penthouse. She was surprised he even opened the door for her.

"You shouldn't be here."

His eyes were bloodshot but at least he wasn't as drunk as he as before. In actuality, he looked damn sexy. He was disheveled and devil-may-care and all Blair wanted to do was jump his bones. But she was a lady. She would at least wait until he closed the door behind him before she straddled him.

"Did you miss me?"

That ought to have caused a reaction. That was what she was going for.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" he demanded. He was tired and he couldn't go on like this for much longer.

"A normal one," she shrugged, trailing through the rooms until she stopped at the bed. She gazed over her shoulder at him and he knew she was playing that game. The game he forgot that he still had in him. And God, he wanted her.

"So tell me you want me."

"No," he said dryly.

"You don't want me?" she asked with that fake vulnerability. God, she got him every time.

"Why are you here, Blair?"

"What do you think?" she asked coolly. "Is it so hard to believe that I'm still in love with you, you cold bastard?"

Chuck stared. "You bitch."

His fingers were already in her hair, pulling her head savagely to meet his hungry and unsatiated lips. Her fingers dug into his flesh and he shoved her away.

"You really are a bitch."

"So I've been told."

His hands met her shoulders quickly and suddenly she was sprawled across his sheets again, where she belonged.

"I want you."

Wasn't that the truth.