Chapter Nineteen: Dying to Live Again
AUTHOR'S NOTE:Yeah, I know that I said this was going to be the final chapter, but after writing a lot, I decided that I was still no where near where I needed to be to end it and I didn't want this chapter to be super long. It's already like 3000 words long now.
But the next one is the final one, for sure.
Serena admitted defeat after twenty minutes of failed attempts to convince Chuck to go see Blair. She left the suite and Chuck assumed that she was going to tell Blair about how awful he was. They were going to break up. He just knew it.
It was all so confusing. He used to think before that girls only tried to act complicated, that it was just their way of screwing with men. He could tell now that it wasn't just an act. Relationships were one of the hardest things he had ever gone through. At first, it was all fun and games. Things changed quickly, Chuck screwed up and dug his own grave. Maybe everything would've been fine if he had just gone to see Blair and explained his intentions. She would've forgiven him.
Then why couldn't he have done that in the first place? He wasn't normally a wimp and he didn't hide from challenges. He was turning in to Nate. Blair was actually turning him in to Nate. It was unbelievable. What ever happened to him not wanting her to take control of him? He needed to get the control in the relationship again, instead of hiding out in his suite with booze and cigarettes until it was clear for him to come out.
He'd talk to her about it in the morning. It would be moronic for him to go now, especially after he had just told Serena that he wasn't going to go see her. Plus, he was drunk and he'd rather sleep it off so he could talk properly, and since Blair was supposedly drunk too, she'd be able to process his words more in the morning even if she was in pain from a hangover. She never did handle 'morning-after's very well.
Dorota was now holding a wet cloth to Blair's forehead to cool her down. The alcohol had taken over her system completely until her body couldn't take it any longer. She had stumbled in to the bathroom and spilled everything from her stomach, for once in a long time it being unintentional. Dorota guided her back to the bedroom once it was certain she wouldn't get sick again, and layed her down on the bed. She was like the caring mother that Blair never felt like she had.
"No boy is worth your tears, Miss Blair," Dorota reminded her softly, using her spare hand to brush some of Blair's hair back. "Mister Chuck wouldn't want you crying."
"I'm not so sure about that," she whispered. Her lips were chapped, bare of their usual coat of lip gloss. As they got dry, they stuck together and left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. "You're not going to tell my mother, are you?" Eleanor would have a fit if she learned how drunk her daughter got because of Chuck Bass, a womanizer who could cause social suicide for any person.
The maid gently shook her head from side to side. "Of course not," she assured her. She removed the wash cloth from Blair's forehead and used it to clean her cheeks. "You need rest."
"Thank you, Dorota," she said, her pale cheeks turning pink from the embarassment in the situation. "You can tell Serena to go home when she comes back, and... you can send Chuck upstairs. He'll be with her."
"Yes, yes. Good night, Miss Blair," she told her. She tucked Blair in to the blankets and then left the room, flicking off the lights to leave her in the darkness.
She woke up the next morning at ten, glad that it wasn't a school day. She expected to roll over and find Chuck laying on his stomach, face pressed in to his pillow to muffle any snores that might escape. He always seemed to do that now to be considerate since one night she bitched at him for keeping her awake.
Instead, all she was greeted by was the empty other half of the bed, cold and still made up perfectly to prove that no one had been there all night.
Rubbing at her eyes, she sat up in bed slowly. Her head was throbbing, and her stomach was growling from being empty. She managed to stumble out of bed and do all of her morning routines before going downstairs. She took a seat in the kitchen next to her mother, who was flipping through a fashion magazines and every so often reaching for some of the breakfast that was on her plate.
"Can I have some breakfast please, Dorota?" Blair asked, flipping open her cell phone since she had decided to bring it down with her. She was disappointed to see that there were no new messages between now and the last time she checked (which was immediately after she woke up). The maid eagerly nodded, beggining to put together a plate of food for her.
Eleanor looked up from the magazine and gave a head-to-toe glance at her daughter. "You're looking rough this morning. Would it hurt to put on some make-up, Blair?" she asked, her eyes shifting down to the magazine again.
"I'm staying in. I don't need any make-up," she snapped back immediately. She was already miserable from all of the drinking she did last night. She didn't need her mother on her case, making her feel ugly and fat this early in the morning.
"What if some one were to come by? You wouldn't want to be caught looking like... that," Eleanor scoffed.
"Well, they should have the courtesy to phone first. It's rude to visit someone unannounced," Blair said, beginning to write a new text message. All it said was 'good morning' and she sent it to Chuck. If Serena had gone by there last night and talked to him, maybe he would reply now.
Eleanor sighed and rolled her eyes, picking up a grape and then popping it in to her mouth. She took a moment to chew it before speaking again. "Just put on some make-up after you eat your breakfast, okay?"
Blair set her cell phone down on the counter and accepted the glass of orange juice that Dorota handed to her. "Mom, I'm really not in the mood for this," she told her, voice soft and quiet.
"Oh dear. More troubles with Nathaniel? You shouldn't worry about it. You two always do manage to get back together," Eleanor insisted, doing her best job of being motherly and helpful.
"I'm not with Nate anymore. I haven't been for a long time. I'm dating Chuck, remember?" It was incredibly insulting that her own mother couldn't keep up with who she was dating. It wasn't like she was one of those whores who had a different boyfriend every other week. She had been with Chuck for quite some time.
Eleanor looked up from her magazine and started at her with wide eyes. "You are?" she asked. The tone of her voice suggested that she didn't believe her. "I just assumed that would be over by now. He doesn't exactly have the cleanest record compared to you. I thought the differences would have taken over."
"Nice to know that you're so supportive," Blair muttered bitterly, standing up from her seat. Just at that moment, Dorota was setting down a plate of food in front of her. "No thank you, Dorota. I'm not hungry anymore."
When she got upstairs, the first thing she did was put on some make-up. Even if she didn't like her mother and was pissed off at her at the moment, the last thing she wanted was to not have her approval.
"Charles!" boomed a loud voice from the foot of the bed.
Chuck just groaned in to his pillow, recognizing that the voice belonged to his father. All he wanted to do was enjoy another day of hibernating, tucked away in the blankets and watching whatever show he could find. It didn't matter if it was even some lame home decorating show, anything would be better than talking to Blair like he had planned the night before. There were two ways that conversation could go, and he disliked both. The first one was that she would dump his sorry ass, perhaps get some slaps in and yell at him, calling him a worthless jerk that she wanted nothing to do with, just like all of the other girls used to do when they couldn't catch a hint that he didn't want to be with them. The second outcome would be that Blair would forgive him, but force him in to talking like he was in a therapy session, and he'd have to explain his feelings. He couldn't figure out which was worse.
"Get up!" growled his father after Chuck didn't respond to him. "I've phoned you three times. Do you realize how inconvenient it is for me to have to come here and make sure you're not... overdosed or injured?" It was highly unlikely that he actually cared. Lily probably threatened or bribed him in to it.
Chuck lifted his head from the pillow long enough to mutter a, "That was you?" before letting it fall back against it. He lifted his hips off of the bed and then reached under his stomach, pulling out the cell phone that he had rolled on to in the middle of the night and had been too lazy to remove. Besides, the vibrating from the phone calls was starting to become soothing to him.
He tossed the phone to the other side of the bed then flipped over so he was now laying on his back. His mind was spinning with thoughts of what to do about Blair, whether he should go back to sleep for a while and what the hell was his father doing there? Why was he so eager to talk to him? The only time Bart ever called or visited was when he needed something.
"Why were you calling?" he asked, sitting up now so he could get a proper view of his father. He hoped that maybe there would be an expression on his face that exposed what was going on, but as always, it was the boring semi-serious look. Chuck couldn't remember a single time when he was actually happy.
"Lily suggested that the entire family has lunch. The wedding is in a few days and she feels that she doesn't know you that well," Bart explained, turning away and taking a few steps across the room.
"What does she need to know? How much of my future money she'll be stealing when you get divorced?" he asked, easing himself off of the bed.
"Charles, contrary to what you may believe, this marriage will last."
Chuck snorted. "Just like the marriage to Raquel the tramp was supposed to last? Actually, you guys didn't even get the chance to get married. Honestly, dad, I got head from her before you got the opportunity to."
"I realized what a whore she was. That's why I broke off the engagement. Besides, she was far too young. Lily isn't another petty child just grasping at thin air because her trust fund is running out," Bart insisted.
"You've come to realize the error of your ways, father? I didn't think you'd ever figure out that women not even ten years older than me don't make suitable, faithful wives. They're really just trophies for you to show off and make everyone else jealous." All of this was rather obvious, but Chuck couldn't resist the urge to point out how wrong his father was and the joy he got out of the fact that Bart wouldn't be able to deny it.
Instead, he became visibly irritated as he shot Chuck a look that said 'Stop, or you'll regret it'. A smirk spread on Chuck's lips as he stood finally and stretched his arms high above his head.
"Lunch, huh? I suppose I could make it," he shrugged, rotating his left wrist. It cracked loudly a couple of times, then he shook it out so it didn't hurt as much. "Just one question," he began as he took a few steps towards his father. "What's in it for me?"
"She's making an effort. That's all that should matter to you," he said, his voice tight. "You haven't had the best experience with your own mother- which could explain your tendencies to act harshly to women. Lily is willing to teach you better. She's a good mother."
"Harsh towards women?" he laughed. "It's quite the opposite. I know very well that I'm capable of giving women the most pleasure they'll ever experience in their lives, father. And I'll assure you, despite the image that Serena portrays, Lily tainted her." He didn't need someone mothering him. He was seventeen years old, not nine. The damage was already done to him, and he didn't think he'd be a 'normal kid' any time soon, nor did he want to be.
"Giving them pleasure doesn't mean that you're not harsh. I have to admit that I'm guilty of throwing aside women too, but you've done it far too much for a teenager. We're concerned about you, especially because of this quick transition with Blair that just seems to be getting you in to more trouble," Bart told him.
Chuck sighed, rolling his eyes. "Well, I appreciate the concern but this really has nothing to do with you," he said. If this had been a couple of weeks ago, he wouldn't snapped, but he just wasn't in the mood to fight over something that could possibly be done with in the next couple of hours. "And I won't be coming to lunch. I just remembered that I have things that I need to deal with."
Music blasting from Blair's bedroom could be heard as Chuck stepped inside the apartment. Dorota was happily cleaning up, and as surprising as it was, he could actually see her moving to the beat. She didn't notice he was there, so he moved up the stairs quietly and froze once he was at Blair's door. He took in a deep breath of air, before roughly knocking on the door and hoping it was loud enough for her to hear.
"Mother, go away!" she yelled through the door.
"I'm not your mom," he yelled back, reaching down and attempting to open the door only to find that it was locked. He should've figured that. It was Blair, after all. When she was in a bad enough mood that she was blaring music, she wouldn't want anyone disturbing her.
Within a couple of seconds, Blair had unlocked and pulled open the door. Her first instinct was to hug him, but hesitated and then just stood back so he could come in.
"Janet Jackson? Never would've thought you to be the type," he observed, almost frightening himself because he knew that it was Janet Jackson singing.
"Nor would I think you the type to recognize her music," she shot back. She straightened her skirt absent-mindedly as she watched him taking a seat on her bed. "What do you want, Chuck? You spend a couple of days hiding out, ignoring my phone calls and texts, then you decide to come see me?"
"I don't know what I want," he told her. "I just... felt bad. Something has just been coming over me lately and I can't control it. It's hard to deal with a problem when you're not sure what it is."
"Yeah, it's also hard to deal with a relationship with someone who never wants to talk to you and just... God, you can't even come up with good excuses for why you do stupid things. You threw my favourite ring in to a garbage," she snapped, grabbing the remote for her iHome and quickly pressing the 'Pause' button so they could hear each other and not have to completely scream.
"Well, sorry that I didn't want you walking around every day with a present from your ex-boyfriend. That thing was like an engagement ring, Blair. You needed to move on or you'll just end up going back to him some day."
"It's not for you to decide who I go out with after we break up while we're still dating. That's fucked up, Chuck. I've been a good girlfriend and I've lost everything for you. The least you could do was not go behind my back. Why were you at Nate's, anyways?" she asked, sitting down on the other side of the bed.
"To give him the ring. I wasn't planning on throwing it out. I was going to give it to him but little fucking Jenny Humphrey was there so--"
"Who was there?"
"Jenny," he repeated, raising an eyebrow at her. "She's his new social climbing, slutty freshman toy."
He could've sworn he saw something just snap inside of her. Her jaw was now clenched and her hand gripped at the bed sheets.
"Blair, come on. It's no big deal," he said, reaching over to place his hand on her shoulder.
"Yes, it is a big deal. She's trying to take my old life," she complained. Chuck was shocked when she didn't slap his hand and tell him to screw off. "I'm going to ruin her."
He blinked a couple of times and stared at her for a couple of moments before saying, "Wait... So you're not mad at me anymore? I thought we were going to break up."
A frustrated sigh came from her mouth and she stood up. "Pointless. We'd get back together in a few days. Besides, I need you now. You can make up for being an ass by coming up with one of your brilliant schemes. You are good at that still, aren't you?" she asked.
"Well, yeah, but..." he trailed off.
"You're forgiven," she said, picking her laptop up from her desk and handing it to him. "Work your magic, write up a plan and then later, I'll work my magic on you."
He was relieved that she wasn't going to break up with him, but in the pit of his stomach he couldn't get rid of that feeling that told him it had just been too easy.