The second the elevator door slid open, yesterday afternoon, Chuck noticed the package. No less than an hour before that moment did he decide to sort out his life and never let anything else fall out of place again, personal possessions included. He wanted to maintain as much regularity as he possibly could and the box threatened that. It may have seemed harmless but it was fucking up his grieving process which is why his eyes immediately landed on it. Also, much to the elusive package's credit, it was a vibrant shade of cheerful green that had a tendency to stick out around the holidays.

His first instinct was to throw the damn thing away. The sender was anonymous, leaving no name or address- anything could have been concealed inside that box. Curiosity, however, got the best of him eventually. He was wary but also a little excited at the prospect of receiving what seemed to be a belated Christmas gift. Perhaps a secret admirer was attempting to cheer him up, it wasn't going to work but the thought was nice enough.

Chuck never was the type of child who ripped open presents the second they were placed in his greedy little hands. His father thought it was odd, his mother used to say that he was just considerate- someone had taken the time to perfectly wrap his gifts, it would be selfish of him to ruin all their hard work in just a matter of seconds.

He sat down on the couch, the package directly in front of him, on the coffee table. Chuck picked it up, turning it over to inspect it. Unfamiliar handwriting had scribbled his name across the top. He brought it to his ears, shaking it lightly to hear what was hidden inside. There was a few dull thuds as the mystery object hit the sides of the box. He considered giving it a sniff but quickly decided against that, the very idea seemed ridiculous.

He ran his hands along the side until he came across a piece of tape. He pulled it back by scraping the edge with his fingernail. Once it was loose, he slid his hand under the wrapping paper, taking it off in a slow, careful manner so that it would not tear. The box beneath the paper was sealed shut with a heavy layer of masking tape. He had to ransack the kitchen for a pair of scissors so that he could finish opening it.

Inside was a black ipod and earphones. Chuck picked it up, identifying it immediately. It had once belonged to Blair. She used to put on the earphones and blast horrible pop songs from the eighties as she blocked out the rest of the world. There was also a note. Listen to the podcast - it read. He turned the piece of paper over but that was it. Those four words were all she thought she needed to say, even the most technology retarded person would figure it out eventually.

He turned on the small machine. The apple logo appeared for a few seconds before the menu popped up. Chuck scrolled down and clicked on the music playlist. Blair obviously wanted to make finding the podcast easy since she deleted every song that was once on the MP3 player. He put on the earphones, getting one last second of wonderful silence before he pushed play.

Play

Hey, it's me, she said softly. Then as though he didn't already know who she was, she clarified. This is Blair, just in case you've forgotten. I haven't been dead that long. Have I?

Chuck shook his head. "No, it's barely been three weeks" He answered although she couldn't hear him, she never would hear him again.

For some of you, this will simply be me telling you goodbye. For a certain unlucky few, it's my way of saying fuck you. Your secrets won't die with me. You're either going to acknowledge what you did - how you ruined me - or everyone is going to know the things you're too afraid to even admit to yourself.

"She's talking about me" Chuck thought. "I ruined her, I destroyed her" He paused, inhaling a deep breath. "I killed her"

The rules are simple, there are only two. One: You listen. Two: You pass it on. Oh, and you will pass it on. Because if you think, for one second, that your dirty little secrets will remain safe if you keep this darling little podcast to yourself, please know that I'm not stupid. I will make a copy and send it to a friend of mine. If this package doesn't make it to everyone on the list, that person will make sure that this is released in a very public manner.

This was not a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Do not take me for granted … again.

Pause

He could feel the vomit rising in his throat. Chuck swallowed a few times, trying to push it back down. If he wanted to, he could walk the few steps to the nearby bathroom. He envisioned getting down on his knees and spilling the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. It would have been so easy to get up and do so, except for one thing- he couldn't move. He was literally frozen.

"I never took you for granted Blair" He whispered aloud. "There were some times when it seemed as though I did, and I know I hurt you more than anyone else ever has but I did love you" He cleared his throat before correcting himself. "I still love you"

He looked down at the Ipod screen, silently daring himself to push the button that would fill his ears with her voice once again. The first time it had been so easy. He knew that he would hear her last words, he just didn't think it would be like this. It was Blair talking but she sounded so hurt, he always did have a knack for hearing the unshed tears in her voice.

Now that he had an idea of what he was about to hear, pushing the play button was the most frightening things that he had ever done. Whatever she was going to say next had to be horrible. That's the only logical reason why people were passing it on. He didn't have to wonder what she had to say about him - Chuck Bass: great lover, horrible boyfriend. A selfish, egotistical coward who was so scared of the very idea of being trapped by love that he pushed away the only person who ever really cared about him.

Play

I made a list of all the people who, in some way, helped me make the decision to end my life. Daddy, I tried so hard to make myself believe that you don't belong on this list. However, after much consideration there's no denying it - you're number one. I was closer to you then I could have ever been to Eleanor. Back in my early years, you were my rock, my protector. You were supposed to be there always. You weren't supposed to leave me for your gay lover in France. It took awhile but I've learned to accept the fact that you're attracted to men. I even think of Roman as a third father. But that does not mean that I will ever be okay with you abandoning me. Many times you have said that you left Eleanor, not me. That isn't true. If it were, you wouldn't have disappeared. Why didn't you just stay in Manhattan, you didn't have to move halfway across the world.

…

From the moment her father first suggested that they go have tea at the Palace, Blair suspected that something was wrong. Tea time used to be their daily ritual, starting when she was four and ending at age nine when Blair decided that she was too old for something so trivial. After that father-daughter bonding time was spent watching old Audrey Hepburn movies or going to the duck pond in Central Park.

Her father started the conversation off by making idle chit-chat asking her about the courses she was planning on taking that summer and what plans she was making with Serena for the weekend. For a while, Blair played along, politely answering his questions and hiding her disdain. Finally when the tea arrived, she poured herself a cup, mixed in a few drops of lemon juice and sugar cubes until she found it desirable, then promptly cut her father off.

"Why exactly are we here?" She asked.

Harold Waldorf was a little aback taken by his daughter's bluntness. With her suspicious gaze pointed directly at him, he was reminded of his wife when Eleanor was Blair's age. "I just wanted so spend some time with you" He answered. That wasn't his real reason but it wasn't exactly a lie.

Blair blinked, not believing him for a second. At only fourteen years of age she already thought of herself as a grown woman. She was more than a little insulted by her father's blatant lie. "Are you and mother getting a divorce?" She couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. The constant fighting would finally stop and she was more than a little hopeful that wherever her father would go, he would take her with him.

Harold nodded. "Yes" he said softly. He chuckled lightly at Blair's expression. "Don't be so happy about it" He chided.

Blair gave him a half shrug. "Sorry" she said, not really meaning it. "The whole divorce is so very tragic" she sighed dramatically. "The only thing that will help me through this is mentally planning my new bedroom"

Harold looked down, avoiding Blair's eye. "New bedroom?" He questioned.

"I'll have to sleep somewhere in your new place"

Harold swallowed. His throat was constricting and his mouth felt dry. "Blair" He said, putting his hand over hers. "You're not coming with me"

Blair quickly pulled away. Many thoughts swirled around in her head as she struggled to comprehend what her father was saying. "I don't understand," she muttered.

"I'm moving" There was a short pause before he continued. "To France"

"Why? There are plenty of women here in New York. Mother can't intimidate them all"

Harold gave her a shy smile. He knew he would have to tell her his dreadful secret sooner or later. He just hoped that she wouldn't think less of him for hiding it for so long. "That isn't an issue Blair"

"So you're just leaving because you want to get as far away from your family as possible?"

Harold shook his head. "No, it isn't as issue because I'm not attracted to women"

Blair was stupefied for a few seconds. Once the shock wore off, she pretended as though she had never even heard him at all. She picked up her teacup, took a sip then looked around. "Where is that waiter with the scones we ordered?"

Harold wasn't going to let her change the subject that easy. "Blair-Bear," he said softly, capturing her attention. "Do you understand what I'm saying"

"I don't want to talk about this right now" Blair hissed, demonstrating a tactic she learned from her mother. She cletched her teeth shut and gave her father an awkward smile. "We're in a public place"

Harold ignored her inconspicuous demand for him to keep his mouth shut. "I'm gay," he admitted, feeling a sudden need to be completely honest with not only his daughter but himself as well. "I have a lover. His name is Roman. He lives in France and I've decided that I need-"

"That's enough" Blair snapped as she interrupted him. Their table was silence as she thought of her father's many last minute business trips to France, the important events in her life that he had missed out on because he was so busy with 'work.' How many lies had he told, trying to keep his second life a secret? Why did he have to pick now to be honest? High school was going to start in a few weeks, this was sure to give her a bad reputation. Blair suddenly felt sick. This was going to ruin her, not that Harold cared, he was going to escape the damage by running off and leaving her with Eleanor.

She stood up abruptly. "I have to use the ladies room" Blair mumbled. Before her father could stop her, she walked away. She might have felt betrayed but that didn't mean she wasn't going to hold her head up high. As she walked through the hotel's lavish dining room a few of her fellow diners turned their heads to catch a glimpse of the young, stuck up brunette who strutted past them as though she were superior to everyone else around.

It wasn't until she was safe in the empty hallway that she remembered to breathe. Blair shut her eyes and, with her back leaning against the wall, she inhaled slow deep breaths. Her stomach churned uncomfortably and no matter how hard she tried, she could not make it calm down. "I need to throw up" she whispered. She picked herself up and walked, as quickly as possible, to the ladies room. In her rush she completely missed a pair of hazel eyes peeking out from behind a large fern.

The second she closed the door to the stall, Blair felt the bile rise in her throat. She leaned over the toilet, pushed her hair back and vomited the small remains of her breakfast. She then flushed the toilet, wishing that today's confessions could also go down the drain. She then exited her stall and went over to the sink. While she washed her hands, she studied her reflection. There was a light sprinkle of perspiration on her forehead but other than that she looked normal. Blair splashed some water on her face, wiped it dry with a soft paper towel then straightened her headband. While vomiting she had felt a little relief but now the sorrow was beginning to set in once again.

She quickly walked out of the bathroom, trying to devise some scheme to make her father stay. All thoughts of plotting disappeared when she saw a boy standing directly across from the door of the ladies restroom. He was around her age with short, dark brown hair that was brushed back, away from his face. He was beautiful in an almost girlish way with his sharp cheekbones, long eyelashes and wild hazel eyes.

It took Blair a few seconds but she soon recognized him. His name was Charles Bass, although he preferred to be called Chuck, and his father owned this hotel. Eleanor used to be close friends with his mother, Elizabeth, and on more than a few occasions the two were forced to have play dates. That all stopped five years ago when Elizabeth died. The last time Blair had talked to Chuck was at his mother's funeral when she gave him a hug as she whispered her condolences. He had pressed his nose into her hair and held onto her a few seconds longer then necessary. A few days later, Bart Bass shipped his young son off to boarding school and Blair never saw Chuck ever again...until now.

"Blair Waldorf," he said, his full lips slowly curled into a smirk. "I thought I saw you running past me"

"Charles," she replied. The formality between the former playmates was so awkward it made her smile, but just barely. "Where were you hiding this time?"

Chuck blushed. He couldn't deny it if he wanted to. Blair knew, more than anyone else, of his fondness for blending in with the hotel's decor. "Behind the fern" he said, nodding his head towards his secret spot.

"I see that's still a favorite of yours" Blair mused. "I guess some things never change"

"Except you"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Calm down" Chuck ordered, holding up his hands. "I was merely stating that I've never seen you sad before"

"What about at the funeral?" Blair questioned then felt guilty for bringing it up.

If her words bothered him, Chuck didn't let it show. "That was different, you were expressing your sympathy"

"Okay," Blair muttered then looked down at the floor, suddenly interested in the pattern of the carpet.

"There's no need to be bashful" Chuck told her.

Blair lifted her head, her brown eyes meeting equally beautiful hazel ones. "I'm not"

Chuck shrugged. "Whatever"

There was silence as the two stared at one another, then after a few moments had gone by, he spoke once more. "So what are you so upset about?"

Blair didn't know if it was because he actually seemed concerned or if she just needed someone to talk to, whatever the reason she felt compelled to tell Chuck what was bothering her. "My father" she grumbled.

"What about him?"

Blair took a deep breath before answering, "He's leaving." Saying it out loud made it even more real. The person who had swore to never hurt her, was tearing her world apart. Tears welled up in her eyes and she slowly blinked them away.

Chuck stepped towards her, closing the distance between the two. He pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Blair. Then, before she could object to their closeness, he put a hand on the small of her back and led her over to the service staircase that was hidden further down the hall.

"Bass, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm trying to get you to sit and take a breather"

Blair felt foolish for being so paranoid but she wouldn't let him know that. She took a seat on a step, not caring that she was dirtying her dress and stared up at him. "Are you just going to stand over me?"

Chuck shook his head, "No." He sat down beside Blair.

She twirled the handkerchief in her hands but refused to say anything else. She wondered how the two of them looked to anyone walking by. They were quite a pair- she wore a royal blue dress with her wavy hair held back by a dark headband, he matched her perfectly with an equally blue sweater and plaid pants.

Chuck put a timid arm around Blair, attempting to comfort her. "Your father leaving isn't the end of the world"

"That isn't it," she mumbled.

"What else is there?"

Blair shoved Chuck away, "I don't talk about it" she replied curtly.

As if on cue, she heard her father calling her name. "Blair, where are you?"

"I have to go" she whispered to Chuck.

He leaned towards her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "You will get through this" he told her. "I should know"

Blair closed her eyes, not wanting to move away from him. This just may be the last time she would ever feel as though her world wasn't slipping away.

Author's Note: I wrote around three thousand words and a few times I considered leaving you with a cliff hanger but I didn't. I think for that I deserve a few reviews.