How The Mighty Have Fallen

"A downward spiral just a pirouette

Getting worse untill there's nothing left

What good comes of something when I'm just the ghost of nothing?

I'm just the man on the balcony, singing nobody will ever remember me.

Rejoice, rejoice and fall to your knees."

"Are you going to get up today?"

"Don't you have school?" he pulls the cover tighter around him, like a cocoon. If only he could transform into something else, anything else.

"I brought you a bagel," he was nothing if not persistent.

"I'm not hungry," it comes out muffled. He wonders if he presses his face deeper into the pillow will the world disappear?

"You can't keep on doing this to yourself." That wasn't the first time he's heard this.

"I can," not the last time.

Heavy sigh, if he had a dollar for the times Eric has sighed over him he'd have another billion. He wonders if how he has any air left in his lungs.

"I'll see you after school."

"Giving up so soon?" he can't help enquiring, usually these morning struggles last a few minutes longer.

"I have Chemistry first period, and Mr Pieser makes you stay back with him if your late. He really freaks me out."

He doesn't bother to reply to this.

Foot steps moving towards the door, seven, he wonders if Eric is ever going to grow.

"Eric," he pushes the cover off him, Eric turns, looks at him. "Can you ask the bar to send me up another bottle of scotch."

A beat of silence as he watches for the reaction.

"Sometimes you're really dumb Chuck, you know that?" A little bite to his tone, it was hard to get Eric angry but it wasn't impossible.

"Just get me the scotch," he mutters, pulls the covers over him self once more.

Another pause, he can sense Eric is struggling with himself, wondering if he should explode with Chuck like the rest of them finally had, or not.

"I'll see you after school okay," cool heads prevail. It's not a question.

"Some people just don't know when to quit," his reply is muffled into his pillow.

"Yeah, some people," No reply, after a minute he leaves.

Click, the door shuts, but not with finality. Never with finality.

He guesses you didn't have to be blood related to share certain annoying traits.

"Rise and shine Chucky."Cheery, always so cheery.

"Get out," groaned into his familiar white pillow.

"It's one in the afternoon, at least have some lunch with me," seats herself, she's in for the long haul.

"I don't want lunch. Why won't you just go away?" he groans, rolls over buries his head deeper into the white.

Shrugs her sun kissed shoulders. "C'est la Vie," flash of perfect white teeth.

French. Learnt at her recent holiday with her... He hated French.

Silence. He thinks if he ignores her she'll evaporate, or something...

"I'm not leaving you know," or something... Determined cheeriness. Ignoring their previous argument, insults crossing the line, streaming eyes, a slammed door. Ignorance was bliss.

"I'm not getting up."

"I can wait." A rustle, digs out a glossy magazine from her over priced bag. The rustle of pages the only sound between them.

"Why do you even bother?" raises his head, looks at her with bitter eyes. Desperate eyes, enquiring eyes.

Shrugs. "I've got to do something in between classes."

"Tried studying?"

"A degree is like a chihuhaha for us remember?" she smiles and he almost does.

"Besides if I don't make sure you don't do something stupid who else will?"

"Serena van der Woodsen my nanny?" he raises his eyebrows at her.

"Think of me as your conscience," she retorts, curling her bare feet up into the arm chair, settling herself in.

"I'd prefer to stay damned," he mutters, pulling the cover over himself.

"You know you love me," she chirps, always so cheery, too cheery.

"No I don't," muffled through the heavy covers, trying to make her disappear. "You're annoying."

"What else is family for," it slips out from her cherry lips before she can think.

"To screw me over," slips from his unintentionally, knee jerk reaction. It hangs in the air, she stares at the black covers obscuring his face.

There's a pause, silence. Silence was never good, it allowed things to be thought and said that couldn't be taken back.

"Exactly, we're all out to screw you over Chuck," she manages to force it out, rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically for his benefit. "Have you ever thought that maybe we care?"

"Have you ever thought that maybe you should stop. It'll save you having to pretend to cry at my funeral."

Suddenly something thumps against the cover, hitting him in the face. He flings them back, glares at her, there's a perfect white pillow fallen on his lap, matching the cushions on her chair.

She's glaring at him blue eyes hard as ice.

"You're an ass you know that?" she snaps, clear, precise, true. Truer then the sweet words they've been dancing around for weeks.

He turns his back on her, wraps the cover over himself once more, doesn't say a word.

I know.

The silence hangs between them.

"Spotted: Queen B looking fresher then ever in the city of Paris with a Prince on her arm. I guess no one will wait forever C."

When Nate came around after class he found Chuck's phone broken to pieces in the kitchen, along with a glass of scotch on the floor. Chuck's door was locked.

He knelt down and picked up the pieces him self. At least this was one mess he could clean up. Make it like it was never there in the first place.

He wished that his best friend was as easy to fix.

He corners her in the lobby.

"You need to talk to him Mom," he demands it, doesn't request.

"Eric darling is this really.."

"You need to talk to him," he snapped, cutting her off.

"Perhaps we should talk about this upstairs," Lilly mutters, looking around furtively. Judging glances and whispers are all they need.

"So you can blow me off again?" his voice is rising. It's not good to bottle your emotions, eventually you burst.

"Eric darling people are looking..." places a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't care what they think," Burst all over the lobby floor. His voice is so loud the security gaurd glances his way, takes a step forward. "All I care about is Chuck. You need to talk to him, help him. We've tried, but we just...we don't know how."

"I've tried talking to him," no point rushing off now, the damage was done. She kept her voice low, airing laundry in public was disgraceful. "He didn't respond at all. Honestly Eric I don't know why you'd believe I could do any better then you."

"Because you're our Mom," he's looking at her desperately now, vulnerably. His voice so quiet, shakes ever so slightly. Mom's are supposed to fix all ills, she'd forgotten her role momentarily, lost in the fear of public disgrace.

Silence, she stares at him, realising that despite his maturity he was still her little boy.

"Please can you just...just try again." For me, for him.

"I don't know...Rufus..."Indecision. He didn't know the whole story, but he knew enough. That something had happened to his little girl and he blamed Chuck.

"Mom for once can you just..." a pause. She watches him carefully.

"Just what?"

Conflcted he decides not to finish. Shakes his head at her confusion. "You know what don't worry about it. We'll figure something out"

"Just what Eric?" she places a hand ever so lightly on his shoulder as he turns to walk away. He pauses, turns to look at her, she's searching for the answers. The mystery to being the mother he wants.

"Choose us."

A pause, shock.

"Honey I've always..."

"Don't worry about it Mom, I shouldn't have said anything." Muttered he shrugs her hand off. "Like I said we'll figure something out."

He walks away. She stands there looking after him.

People whisper and stare and for once she doesn't care.

She opens the door to 1812 (she took the key from Eric's room). It's dark. Typically the first thing she notices is the mess.

Look how the mighty have fallen.

He doesn't allow the housekeeping in. He didn't want their sneering superior looks. He got what was coming to him. No one will want you now.

Oh look how the mighty have fallen.

She steps over the discarded clothes. There were a lot of bottles on the table.

Goes to his room, the door is open. He doesn't bother closing it anymore.

"Charles," her voice carries through the room, soft.

The shape on the bed, under the cover, stirs.

"Lilly?" he sits up, the light filters through the curtains just allowing her to see his face. Stunned. But only for a second. "You shouldn't have come." Muttered sullenly. Sometimes she can imagine the stubborn little boy hidden under all those layers.

"I wanted to see how you were," fail to mention Erics prompting. Guilt, it shouldn't have been up to her younger son to make her realise.

"Well you've done your duty, now you can go," bitter, angry. Harsh.

Steps further into the room, stops at the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry," it slips out, so soft.

Silence, he stares at her, shocked.

"For what?" doesn't have a chance to make it angry, bitter. It's not a statement, just a question.

"For not coming sooner." For not insisting, not forcing, not getting you any help. For believing you when you insisted on the phone that you were fine. Complacency, it was her biggest sin.

"I'm fine," he mutters "I don't need...I'm fine." It's a mantra he repeats. He doesn't need anyone, doesn't need her.

"Well I think our definitions of fine are very different," stated bluntly, as only a mother could. Raised eyebrows at the bottles on his bedside table, his ruffled hair. It was eleven in the morning, he was still in bed. "At least let me get the staff to tidy up a bit."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Wishing she does, hoping she didn't. "A husband whose wondering where you are?"

"Rufus is spending the last few weeks of the break with Jenny, Eric is always at his new boyfriends place and Serena is staying at the Waldorfs...and I find myself alone... So no I suppose I don't have anywhere else to be." I shouldn't be anywhere else. Nowhere but here.

A pause, he absorbs this.

"I didn't go to the meeting." How many weeks ago was it now?

"I know," wants to put out a hand and touch his hair, stops herself. Sometimes the smallest steps can be the hardest.

"I don't want.." I don't want your pity. He stops and doesn't continue, leaves the unfinished sentence hanging.

"Come back home Charles," it wasn't planned, but it was needed.

A pause, stunned again, the both of them this time.

"I don't think you're husband would like that very much," sarcasm, mocking, challenging. Calling her bluff.

"Rufus will just have to deal," I'm not bluffing.

A pause.

"Like I said I find myself alone and..."

Ignores her he suddenly gets up. Goes to the draw pulls something out, she pauses. He walks up to her.

"I've been meaning to give this to you, since Paris," abrupt, holds a large vanilla envelope out to her.

"Charles I..."

"Take it," he pushes it into her hands, agitated.

"Lilly" scrawled in untidy hand on the front.

"Open it," his eyes seem unnaturally bright. But his voice is monotone.

She does as he says, takes out the papers. Notices the small note clipped neatly on the top of the pile.

Serena I'm leaving. I'd rather be nothing then Chuck Bass.

Papers, his whole life, future, signed over to her.

"Charles," shock, numb. She never knew. "I can't," quickly pushes the envelope towards him.

He steps back, as if it is some sort of disease.

"Take it." Dismissive, keeping his voice cool. "Do whatever you want with it."

"You don't mean that."

"Take it I don't want it anymore," voice raised, like a whip. Desperation, anger, need. Can't she see, he doesn't want to be that boy anymore?

Searches his eyes. A long pause. He needs so much more then she can give.

"I'll look after it for you, with Bass industries. Until your ready." Finally concedes, she doesn't know what else to do.

"Do whatever you want with it, I don't care anymore," repetition, same lies over and over until he can almost believe them.

"Come home Charles." All she needed was a small window to convince him. To get him to grab onto the lines they were throwing.

"You should go now," he turns his back on her, grabs one of the bottles. Hard, unyielding. He doesn't want their pity. He'd done it, given everything he had. Now it was time to bury himself.

A pause, she reaches out a hand, to touch his back, to bring him home. She stops herself, again. The smallest steps meant the most, you screwed them up and you screwed up everything.

"Fine," she sighs, yields, turns to go. Stops at the doorway, he still has his back to her, taking comfort in the amber liquid of destruction.

"At least consider my offer Charles, for me?"

A tactical retreat, not a surrender. He doesn't reply, she doesn't expect him to.

She leaves him there alone, she'll come back.

The words haunted her. I'd rather be nothing then Chuck Bass. Lost.

She hadn't realised how much he needed her.

Dreams of bleeding and alleys and her smiling down at him as he struggles are interrupted by loud bangs and louder laughter.
Laughter, he hasn't heard that in a while.

Drags himself up, stumbles to his bedroom doorway.

"What's going on here?" chaos, clothes once on the floor being thrown into boxes. Nate, Serena, Eric going through the suite.

Silence as they all look at him. Wide eyes, a sheepish smile, guilty look and challenging blue.

"You're moving," Serena states it, a fact.

"Mom told me how she asked you to move back in..." Eric rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"And we decided that you are going to." Firm, a firmness Nate could never manage.

Wait, wait for the explosion. A call to security. He blinks slowly.

"Is that my baseball?" staring at the thing in Nate's hand. Like a deer caught in headlights Nate stutters.

"Nate got it back," apparently she's the spokesperson. She was always good at talking her way out.

"Here," Nate throws it, he catches it clumsily, reflexively, stares down at it. "It was the least I could do man." You had my back, let me have yours.

A pause, he looks at his best friend. They wait with baited breath.

"Wake me when you're done," he turns, goes back in his bedroom, shuts the door doesn't slam it.

Lets the implication of his words sink in.

He'll surrender, let them try and help him, even though he knows they'll fail.

They're still here, despite everything. He supposes the least he can do is let them hope.

He sits on the bed and listens to them talk, laugh, the baseball still in his hand.

"Chuck come on" she sweeps the curtains back, lets the sunshine pour through. Jumps on his bed, it bounces. "Time for breakfast."

Grumbles, indistinct noise that sounds a lot like an expletive.

"You didn't move in here just so you could sleep all day in your room," grabs the covers, pulls them off roughly. He lets them slide through his fingers.

"Shouldn't you be having breakfast at your own place?" he didn't mention whose house it really was.

"I didn't feel like pop tarts this morning," waves away his suspicious look. "Now Mom wants you washed and dressed and downstairs in twenty minutes otherwise she's coming up, and she hasn't had her morning coffee yet." It was an empty threat, Lilly thought it would be better to just let him lie. Serena knew better.

"I'm not hungry," he states, goes to grab his covers, she's dragged them off the bed, is folding them in an easily carryable lump.

"Twenty minutes," she states, turning to strut out in six inch heels carrying his covers with her.

"I could be back in my suite in twenty minutes," biting, annoyed, a veiled threat.

She turns, raises her eyebrows remarkably like Lilly. Calls his bluff.

"Suck it up," flicks her blonde hair, turns again. "Besides at least this way if you die we don't have to move your stuff."

He almost smiles at this.

"Charles I wasn't expecting you," surprise flickers over Lilly, he glares at Serena.

"Don't worry Mom I set his old seat next to Eric," smiling sunnily, inside relieved.

Giving up he slips in next to the younger boy who shoves a heap of bacon on his plate. The smell makes him feel sick.

His cup is filled with orange juice, he frowns annoyed looks for the decanter, it's not there. His head aches, thumping against his temple. He needs his morning cure, his poison.

"I haven't seen you wear that shirt since high school," Serena comments, scrunching up her nose at the offending dolphins. Distracting him from his search.

"It's quite interesting," Lilly comments, trying not to wince.

"I felt nostalgic," he comments, he knew Serena hated it. He felt up to making the effort to bait her, it had been a long time.

"You actually wore that to school?" Eric queries, wide eyed. For someone like him it would've meant social isolation.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" distracted for a moment he glances at the younger boy in jeans and a t-shirt.

"It's Saturday Chuck," Serena states.

"Oh," frowns. But it was Monday, wasn't it?

"Speaking of the day tomorrow is the annual galla, being a patron of the arts I expect all of you to attend. "

"Mom..."

"Isn't it a few weeks early? It's usually on September the thirtieth?" cuts off Serena's complaint. He wasn't planning on contributing much, but it had been so long since he'd been in contact with the world. It was good to know social events still ran like clock work.

"Tomorrow is the thirtieth," Eric says gently as Serena and Lilly look at him.

How many days had he missed?

There's an awkward pause.

A mobile trilled, making them all jump.

"Who is it? Lilly enquired as Serena checked the sceen, smiling slightly.

"It's just Dan," she said, glancing awkwardly at the table.

"Humphrey Dumpty?"

"Him and Serena are trying to make it work yet again," Eric commented.

"Why would she want to do that?" stilted, words and curiosity not long used, but still with almost his usual disdain.

"Will the both you stop discussing my personal life like I'm not here," Serena sighed in frustration rolling her eyes.

"But it's just so kinky," it slipped from his lips, a natural response, lewd comments he hadn't made in he didn't know how long.

Eric snorted into his juice.

"Charles," Lilly reprimanded softly, tolerably.

And Serena poked her tongue out at him kicking his leg playfully under the table. Too glad to hear remnants of the old Chuck to be truly annoyed.

It wasn't hard after that, talking. Just like any other breakfast before. Chuck revelled in the nostalgia. He hadn't realised he'd missed this. He almost lets himself believe that maybe family was good for something other then just screwing him over.

He doesn't stop drinking, because he doesn't want to (because he can't.)

But he starts drinking less. Brings it down to normal levels (for him).

Lilly smiles in approval, Serena and Eric pretend like he's fine now.

He gets out of bed after all, eats three meals, sits and talks (Occasionally he slips, but everyone has their bad days).

He's come in leaps and bounds.

He always drunk behind closed doors nothing unusual there, always with a scotch glass in hand, that was him.

They ignore that fine line he's walking, ignore the fact that one false move could push him over the edge.

Ignore the glass they're treading carefully around.

For all intents and purposes he was better. He was Chuck Bass.

"Lilly how could you bring him here, to our home after what happened..."

"Rufus he...he needs this family right now!"

"What he needs is to stay away from this family."

"If it was Dan would you turn him away?"

"That...that's different."

"No it's not." He's my son too.

"Dan would never..."

"Dan thought he'd impregnated a girl and hid it from you."

"Dan made mistakes but.."

"Yes he made mistakes. We've all made mistakes in our life."

Where would any of us be if we hadn't been forgiven?

"I will not live under the same roof as him Lilly."

"Charles is staying."

"You're really choosing him over me Lils?"

"No," shocked, it wasn't that way at all. "He just needs me Rufus, I thought you could understand that."

"I don't."

Eventually they sort it out, they always sort it out.

Eric, Serena pretend like they never heard the argument.

Lilly smiles wildly. Everything is fine.

Rufus frowns when he's in a room, but he ignores it like he ignores Dan.

Chuck Bass the centre of discord. He had gotten used to it.

Hated it, but he had nowhere else to turn.

She gets calls from Blair regularly. Never mentions Chuck. Neither of them do. Sometimes she thinks Blair is about to ask, but then she thinks better of it.

"Why don't you tell her, he's getting better?" Nate enquired once.

"Sometimes ignorance is bliss. Besides she deserves to be happy for a while." The truth was she didn't want to pull Blair back in again. Doesn't say what she was really worried about. Maybe it's not permanent, maybe he'll slip...

Always ends the call with "Everyone is fine here B."

Blair knows what that means, that they're looking out for him.

"Love you S." Thanks for not making me have to ask.

"Love you B." What else are friends for?

Sometimes they were mortal enemies, but always they were best friends.

Forever.

Columbia, he'd never really considered college. Never knew about things such as late admission (for a fee). Bachelor of business, never considered that either.

He tells himself it's something to pass the time. And sometimes he almost thinks that people can change.

"Hello," picked up the phone naturally. He could have let it ring out, but he needed to do something with his hands, needed a distraction. Sometimes were harder then others.

Silence on the other end.

"Look Humptey Dumpty I don't think my sis really appreciates perverts breathing so..."

"Chuck," she cuts him off, his heart pauses. Almost drops the phone.

A pause, just breathing.

"Blair?" hasn't heard her in so long, had to make sure.

"How..." How did you pick up the phone? How are you? I miss you.

"I'll...I'll get Serena for you," he didn't move even though she was upstairs. Didn't dare to even twitch.

"What are you guys up to?" no suspicion like there would have been before, just curiosity. Serena hadn't told her.

"I live here now."

"Who's idea was that?" it was a good one, something she would have suggested if she had been there...

"Lilly asked me to move back in, she gets lonely." It was the joke among them, he doesn't smirk however. No expression in his face or voice. Like he's on automatic.

There's silence. Both on the precipe, the brink of pouring out the last few weeks.

" I-" so many possibilities, she doesn't manage to get it out. "I hope you're doing better," alternative.

Silence still.

"Chuck are you still there?"

"I still love you Blair," blurts out suddenly, without planning, rough, raw, real.

A pause.

"Chuck I...I sti-" Cut off too soon.

"Who are you talking to ma chere?" a voice on the other end, male, affectionate, unfamiliar.

He drops the phone on the counter, clatters loudly in the empty foyer. Doesn't bother to pick it up, turns and heads straight for the bar.

"What are you doing here man?" Text messages were handy. Nate stands before him as he sits at the bar, an open bottle and glass in front of him. Almost empty. Nate's heart sinks, he had been doing so well...

"She's dating him isn't she, that guy that was on gossip girl?" Slurring, eyes still sharp. Doesn't need to say who.

"How did you?" he runs his hand through his hair, distracted from the implication of the booze. Looks down at his friend.

"She rang for Serena, and I picked up."

"I'm sorry man," awkward, what else was there to say? They knew this would have to happen eventually, hoped it would be a little later, when he was a little stronger, when they were prepared to catch him.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because we thought it would be better..."

Nate understood he really did. How much it hurt to watch the girl you loved with another guy, to smile at her, see her everyday. Chuck ddn't need that, not right now. That was why.

He sits next to his friend (to limit what goes down). They don't say much.
Helps him get up to his room. Doesn't tell anyone.

Sometimes you slipped, had one too many. (Thought about her in a different way, wanted to reach out and take her hand.)

He understood, he really did. (He thought he did).

Sometimes you needed someone to forgive you for being weak.

He's only human.

That's what best friends were for.

He slips up a few times after that. (Is it becoming more frequent as the weeks go by?)

Serena, Eric, Nate, alternate in helping to get him home, showered, dressed and in bed before Lilly or Rufus came home.

Keep up a farce for the parents, it was laughable. They were adults. None of them felt much like adults though. They were losing control.

He starts getting shadows under his eyes again. Comes later and later to breakfast.

Nate and Serena force him to go to class, have lunch with him in their breaks. (Run from one side of the campus to the other.)

Nate introduces him to some people, social creatures.

He's holding on (with a death grip. At the tips of his fingers). He's trying, he really is.

She's living her life and he's living his.

Chuck Bass was not beginning to slip. He was trying, like he had promised.

Doesn't let himself listen to the whispers in his ear.

What was the point in trying when he'd already lost?

He avoids the college parties. (Too easy to slip. He will not fall again).

Stays in, plays Wii with Nate, annoys Serena and Humphrey, plays squash with Eric.

Who needs parties with friends like these?

His life was a mere shadow.

It's when they're sitting in the quad together, that's when he realised how much he had changed. For the worst.

Some of Nate's friend just left, Chuck had stared down moodily at the table the whole time. One of those moods.

Looks up suddenly as Nate takes a swig of soda.

"You do realise Mike is just a pathetic version of me don't you?"

Nate chokes. Coughing. Recovers.

"What do you mean?"

Raises eyebrows. "Please Nathaniel, the drinking of cheap beer, the parties, the failed attempt at womanising? Why on earth would you befriend someone like that?" When you have someone like me.

Nate shrugs, colours slightly. He had thought of it.

"I never noticed before," mutters, makes a show of checking out a chick across the quad.

Silence, glances over. Chuck is still looking at him with raised eyebrows, a shadow smirk gracing his lips.

"Fine," relents, never could hold out long, rubs his neck. "I guess I just...I guess he was a place holder or something man..."

"A placeholder?"

"I dunno when..." doesn't voice when, doesn't have to. "I guess I just missed my fun loving best friend that's all...He was the best Chuck Bass I could get on such short notice." Grins slightly, it's all one big joke. Right?
Chuck doesn't answer to this, the silence becomes awkward.

"Pathetic," he mutters finally, lowers his gaze.

He's quiet for the rest of the day.

Doesn't tell Nate that Mike was being a better Chuck Bass then he was right now. Fun loving, partying, womanising.

Not sitting dourly trying to stay away from temptation, a wet blanket. All his concentration on trying to keep from falling.

Barely hanging on.

Pathetic.

He's gone a week without slipping. Kept it to a drink a day.(Gotten a tighter grip on that ledge. A better balance on the rope.). Maybe college was good for him.

He feels like celebrating. Going to dinner with Nate and Serena.

Avoids thinking about the blasts on gossip girl. Dour Chuck isn't worth blasting about. Echoing his own thoughts.

This is what he's secretly always wanted. Stability, family, love, respect. (This wasn't how it was supposed to be, not alone).

Was this his life? Was this what others felt like, clinging with white hands they became old before their time? It should be easier, would have been with...

Nate's waiting for him as he looks for a tie. (His room reflected the chaos within).

His new phone trills, glances at it automatically.

The Queen returns.

A picture underneath to illustrate. Who needs words with a shot like that?

They're kissing, she looks happy. Happy in all the ways he can't make her Happy while he was just surviving.

Failure.

"Are you all right man?" Nate quickly shoves his phone in his pocket. Hates how they keep asking him that. He is not weak, no longer.

"Peachy," a sharks grin. Too bright, eyes too wild.

"We can...stay in if you want..." Knows somethings not right. Hopeless at this, Serena would have been better.

Ignores Nate, keeps walking.

"Where are you going?" confused now.

"To a party," holds up the flyer laying carelessly on his side table.

"But what about dinner?"

"You can come with me if you want to live a little Nathanial," dismisses him with a smirk. Turns and walks out without a second thought. He's tired of all these self inflicted rules.

He was Chuck Bass. He is Chuck Bass.

It was funny all it took were three simple words to push him over the edge. And now he was free falling.

Sometimes life was tragic like that.

"I only want what I can't have."

A/N: Please review. There might be a next one coming if people are interested. I do have a general idea about where this is going though I don't know if I can really classify it as a story lol. Lots of Blair next one and I'll try to put in a bit more of the other characters. Please excuse me for the spelling mistakes.

Song is from Fall Out Boy (my favourite band) and is called "From now on we are enemies."

As soon as i heard it I thought of Chuck and that scene on Victrolas roof.

Pleasssee review this and do not just add it to story alert. I know it's kind of unfair but unless I get at least 5 reviews for this chapter I don't think I'll bother to write more = (. My muse will die! Don't let it die ! = (