Chapter Ten
Glamorous Girls
Serena leaned back on the leather of the booth, her face covered in darkness. Nobody could see the expression on her face. Everyone was too busy staring at Blair. A flicker of worry distorted her beautiful features and a grim thought descended upon her brow.
What if Blair reacted badly to drugs? What if she ended up in a hospital? Or worse, at the morgue?
That calm, serene, upright Blair was now laughing maniacally at the glass that slipped out of her hands.
Blond let out a long breath. Blair would be fine. This was just a harmless trick. Serena sat there, seemingly relaxed, but even she wondered at the supposed enjoyment of the scene.
''Well, well,'' She whispered to herself, forcefully dispersing the doubt. ''You wanted attention, now you've got it.''
''Blair,'' Chuck gently said, lightly pulling her elbow. ''Are you okay?''
''It fell,'' The girl murmured, touching her own fingers as if they were magical and looking at them in amazement. ''I'm great... I'm feeling great!''
She suddenly got up, wobbling for a second and yanked Chuck's hand with a force nobody knew she possessed. ''Let's dance!''
This should be fun, Serena thought to herself, rouged lips pulling up in a smile. What a slavish invitation for a lover's dance. Blair dragged Chuck, the epitome of elegance and bred nobility, away from the booth and he even went along for few minutes.
What was once funny, now became full on embarrassing. Blair was jumping up and down on the dance floor, completely devoid of the grace other girls showed. Her hair was a mess and her mascara smeared from sweat. She didn't even care when Chuck stepped away, instead she grabbed a girl nearby and started waving her hands in the air around her.
Everyone paused whatever they were doing to watch the spectacle with wide eyes, suppressing their amusement. Who was crazy enough to anger Chuck Bass? Instead, they snickered behind their hands, but he could still hear the malice of their laughs.
''What's wrong with her?'' Nate came shutting off his camera. He looked at Blair in half worried, half is-she-crazy way.
Serena abruptly stood up and went over to boys, shaking her head. ''Get her away before Bart comes. Before he sees this scandal.''
The name of Bart attracted Chuck's attention immediately. His jaw clenched. ''Serena,'' he seethed in warning.
''What do you mean?'' Nate asked, oblivious and dumbfounded.
Everyone knew what was Serena talking about, but nobody dared to say it out loud. Nobody except Miss Van Der Woodsen herself. Long-termed friendship with Chuck Bass gave her certain privileges which everyone died for. One of them was speaking plainly and honestly, no matter the reaction.
''Can't you see,'' She crossed her hands. ''Chuck's princess had a candy or two and now she's raving.''
Chuck's fuming expression was Serena's silent victory. Blair would be labeled as a druggie, and if Chuck was disgusted by anything, it was by people lying to him and girls who couldn't handle their vices.
''Look, she totally tripped.''
Chuck observed his date, his eyes narrowing and even he couldn't pretend to make up an excuse for her. Blair accidentally stumbled into him and almost fell. He caught her elbow, his nostrils flaring. ''Blair-''
''Oh, shush,'' She droned, brow sweating and her skin on fire. ''It's just these stupid high heels.''
To everyone's disbelief and shock, she then did something nobody even dreamed in worst nightmares.
Blair sat on the floor of the most prestigious club in Manhattan, surrounded with celebrities and socialites. She unceremoniously took her shoes off and kicked them aside as if they were piece of trash. A place where everyone took careful thought about their next movement, and their next word, Blair stormed the place with savageness.
Serena was too astounded to laugh as she saw a tall, bald figure moving through the crowd. Bart Bass arrived to greet his son and his guests, as was his ceremony almost every night when he was in town. He now stood rooted in spot, looking with disgust at barefooted figure jumping up and down, who was laughing like maniac and avoiding Chuck's hands that tried to get a hold of her.
Chuck finally managed to grab her. His voice was angry and frustrated. ''Blair, we're leaving.''
''Where are we going?'' She squealed excitedly, fixing her cleavage for all the club to see.
''Home. Come on, let's go.''
''Chuck,'' She spoke softly, looking up to him. Her eyes were glassy, but her whole face was smiling. Suddenly, her voice sounded clear and it was this that made him freeze in spot. ''I only have one night. One magical night for our Blair and Chuck.''
He stared at her. Blair and Chuck. Chuck and Blair. Those few words were like a cannon ball to his chest. They hit him, leaving a hole in his body and he went sinking down, drowning with pleasure to that feeling he had when he first saw her.
Another demonic laugh coming from her throat broke that trance and he pulled her elbow firmly. He knew his father was going to be there when he turned around. He knew it, yet he held on to Blair and whispered to Nate, ''Take care of my father.''
Nate readily nodded, thinking he would be rather jumping off of a bridge. It was the Big Bad Wolf who probably never saw anything more embarrassing in his private perfect world called Tropic. Big Bad Wolf who took up seriously the drug issue in his clubs, especially if the word got out. He could lose his clients. He could have his club shut. His reputation could be ruined forever.
''Mr. Bass, how are you?'' Nate flashed him a smile, trying to look anywhere but at the terrifying scowl on Bart's face. ''Apologies, our friend had bit too much for drink.''
Serena pursed her lips and spoke, ''Mr. Bass, that girl that Chuck brought here, she was on drugs.''
Bart Bass looked from Serena, who held her head high, to Nate, who looked as uncomfortable as ever. He said nothing, only lightnings flashed from his small eyes.
Her head was spinning. What was going on?
She felt as if she was on a boat, rocked and lulled. There was someone else's presence too. A familiar smell that sometimes visited her dreams... Maybe she was dreaming.
Blair opened her eyes to find herself in Chuck's arms. Only, he wasn't looking at her with love like she often dreamed. He was looking straight upfront, even as he lowered her down on the floor of big bright foyer. The marble was cold against her feet.
''Please,'' his voice sounded with even greater coldness. ''Be careful.''
She hugged her chest, feeling chilly all of a sudden. Strange how she felt on fire a minute ago. Or was it a life time ago? The roller coaster in her head was slowing down, but it was still rolling. Her eyes caught a sight of strange girl in fancy penthouse. She looked familiar, but awfully miserable. Her dress was too skimpy, her hair disheveled, her face pale and sweaty.
Blair blinked. Girl blinked back.
Blair lifted her hand just as the girl did.
The sudden realization hit her chest with full force. She staggered back just like the reflection in the mirror did too.
''Blair?'' Chuck asked at the sudden change of attitude and stopped loosening his bow-tie.
Her smile died out completely. Eyes immediately filled up with tears. This is what they made her out to be. This is the cloth they put over her skin.
Shame.
This was not her. This vulgar, hideous looking girl was not her. This was never her. This girl wasn't an ambitious student or a successful businesswoman - she was pathetic looking and worthless. Who made her like this?
''This is not me,'' She sobbed quietly, covering her cleavage.
''Come,'' He said tiredly. ''Let's go up.''
''This is not me,'' She repeated as her voice broke, a single tear escaping her eye. She pulled the skirt down, wanting it to cover every inch of her skin. She felt naked. She felt barren. She felt empty. Stupid and weak. There was nothing to be proud about this girl.
This was a girl out of control.
''This is not me!'' She screamed at the reflection. Her knees gave up and she sank to the ground, bathed in tears and shame.
A hand encircled her and she pressed her wet eyes into his chest.
Her mouth was so dry, she felt she could never speak again. Blair lifted her head, finding it was an excruciating effort even to breathe properly. She spotted a glass of water on a nightstand. As quick as her body was able to, she reached out and gulped greedily.
She set the glass back on the table, loud sound echoing in her head and inviting another wave of headache. Windows as tall as the ceiling goes were curtained, but the Tiffany clock said it was 6.30am. Almost time to wake up and help mom.
Except that her sheets weren't silky and black. Except that her pillows didn't smell this enchanting. In fact, she only had one hard pillow, not a pile of soft pieces of cloud.
Blair sat up in panic and caught his eyes in an instant. He was watching her like a hawk. How long had he been doing that?
Ever since she met him, she secretly wished to be able to wake up one day to his face.
Today was not that day.
Chuck was sitting on a sofa next to her bed, still in last night's attire. His bow tie was loose, few button of his shirt popped open. Jacket was thrown tidily across the chair. Circles under his eyes were dark, his penetrating look too painful to withstand. Did he even sleep? She hugged the sheets, feeling naked underneath. Last night came to her in flashes.
''What happened?'' She sank her head in hands, not able to look him in the eyes. Blair rubbed her temple with fingers, trying to release the pain. ''I remember bits and pieces from last night.''
He replied nothing. Blair closed her eyes, but it only brought on pictures of violent disgust and shame.
''Chuck?'' Her voice was hoarse, as if she'd been screaming all night.
Still, he didn't move a muscle. His silence troubled her more than anything else.
''Won't you say something?''
''Go on and explain,'' He snapped, glaring at her. As if she did something wrong, something bad - but all Blair could remember was having a glass or two of champagne. And - and that girl in the ladies room.
''I don't know. I don't understand. Something happened, but...'' She stared off into the space, trying to remember, but unable to proceed. Last night was a blur, like a bad movie she watched. ''Why are you looking at me like that?''
Chuck was obviously annoyed and irritated.
''Chuck,'' She pressed on, agony building up inside of her like a forest fire. ''Talk to me.''
Chuck leaned towards her, his eyes narrowed dangerously. ''What did you do, Blair?''
''Me?'' She meekly said, pulling up silken covers to her neck.
''Enough!'' He yelled, his hands balled up in fists. The rumbling noise triggered a violent, pulsing headache. Intimidated by his violent reaction, she shrunk back in the pillows. ''You've played dumb long enough!''
Chuck got up and paced the spacey bedroom, completely livid.
''Who are you? Who are you Blair?''
She was suddenly seized with flashbacks. A headache. A pill. A girl in bathroom.
''Drugs...''
''Finally,'' He seethed with mock relief. ''Yes, the drugs!''
Blair still lay on his bed, enveloped in his smell, his sheets. She felt like a crumpled one dollar bill. She felt stupid. ''I didn't even know I took it.''
Dots were connecting in her split open head and she finally understood. ''I was having a headache. A girl in the bathroom told me she had an Aspirin. I took the pill, but I swear I didn't know-''
She shut her mouth, knowing how gullible she sounded, but she needed him to trust her. Right now, he was turned to windows, forehead leaned against the glass. Past his hunched figure, Manhattan began the wake and a ray of morning light spread in the dark room.
Blair removed the sheets and got up, slightly slipping on the silk. She touched his arm and he flinched, sharply turning to her. She stood in front of him, empty, messy, and bare like this, but he couldn't even look her in the eyes.
''Don't you believe me?''
''Don't, Blair,'' He spat, clenching his jaw. ''You're smart enough to make up a better story, surely. Somebody slipping a pill in your drink, maybe?''
Her hands were trembling. She pressed them together, willing herself not to look into his mocking face. This scenario already happened, didn't it? Just like deja-vu.
''It's cliché, but at least it's believable,'' He sneered, pushing her further away. ''That's why you didn't drink anything. It's dangerous to mix alcohol and drugs, isn't it? Is that why your parents won't let you out of their sight? Because you're an addict?''
Blair was so shocked she forgot how to breathe. She hoped he would stop, she hoped he would stop hurting her, but that wasn't Chuck Bass' style.
''Congratulations though. You've played out this part amazingly.''
He clapped at her supposed performance, pushing the dagger deeper into her flesh. She felt the blade connect with her heart and that's when she remembered how to breathe. She breathed in foul rotten breath, unable to come up for fresh air.
Blair didn't wait for another ovation. She put on her shoes and coat as quickly as she could.
''I would say that there's no script I haven't heard in night life,'' He continued with a scorn, not giving up, ''But you've exceeded all my expectations, Blair!''
Before exiting, she turned around to look at him, breathing heavily. That mocking smile was off his face. Did she see a flash of hurt? No, he couldn't even look at her.
A junkie. A liar.
That's what he saw in her right now. Nothing else. No matter what she said, he wouldn't believe her. This time, she wouldn't fight him to believe her. This time, she would go down without begging for mercy. Blair was decided in saving up little of the pride that was left for her. Because no matter what, there was no room for mercy in their cruel world.
Blair walked out of the room, down the flight of steps and almost out of the doorway. Just as she opened the doors, she met face to face with Bart Bass and a girl just bit older than herself. His upper lip curled at her, eyes full of venom.
She held them for a moment, before running out on fresh air.
Blair walked in her house and went straight to bed. Her heart was breaking, her whole body shattering to pieces and she needed numbness of dreams.
''What's that on your face?'' Jane asked with a quick look.
''Make-up, I'll take it off.'' Mother looked at her like only mothers know, noticing her tired face and paying special attention to backpack.
''What are you doing?''
''I'm tired, I'm going to sleep.''
''Sleep? Didn't you sleep at Georgina's? You're a student! What kind of terrible habits are those?!''
Blair payed no attention to anything outside of her head, she crawled into bed still in her sweatpants, shirt and with make-up on.
Jane stood motionless by her bed, suspicion all over her face. She waited until Blair was asleep, which was in minutes. When her daughter's breathing was shallow enough, she slowly and silently retreated, grabbing Blair's backpack. She sat alone in kitchen and quickly opened up one zipper.
Nothing there.
In second compartment were pencils and erasers.
In third, were big college books.
Jane sighed in relief, but felt guilty of doubting her daughter. She wasn't sure what she would find in it, but textbooks and pencils were furthest from her mind.