The Chameleon (Chapter 2 of 'The Once & Future Bass')
"When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning." – The Alchemist
Author: Isabelle
Rating: PG-13 (language, adult situations, violence)
Spoilers: All of Season 1 & some Season 2 promos
Summary: In Season 2 Blair & Chuck finally re-unite after their break-up and that same night Chuck witnesses something that pulls him away from Blair. Years later he's back to save her and those he left behind.
Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with Gossip Girl; CW owns them along with their creators. Song 'Sugar Cane' by Missy Higgins & "Leaving her Alone" by Ari Hart.
Special thanks to my BETA, Tati!!
--
"The world's greatest lie: At a certain point in our lives we lose control of what's happening to us and our lives become controlled by fate." – The Alchemist
When Nathaniel Archibald opened the door to his house, he never expected to see a worn-out Serena standing before him. The look in her weary eyes told him it had to do with Blair or the lack of a real Blair.
Nate simply nodded and let her in, offering her a cup of hot tea. She declined and slumped against his sofa, letting her head fall in her hands.
"Again?" He asked softly and sat across from her.
She nodded, her face still hidden.
Nate sighed and rubbed his temple. They were too young to deal with this.
"When?" He asked and she looked up at him. She was tired of crying.
"Last night. I felt it was strange that I hadn't heard from her, so I decided to show up. Nate… she made herself pass out."
Nate felt his stomach gave out and he clenched his teeth.
"Did you tell Eleanor?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.
"She begged me not to," Serena said.
"Ok. We need to do something."
It had been four months since Chuck had died, and Blair was just spiraling down this path that neither of them knew how to fix or how to change. They had taken her to a few doctors and nothing helped.
"This is beyond us, Nate." Serena's voice was so very tired. "In a few weeks we leave for college, and then what are we going to do?"
"I'll be at Yale. I'll look in on her," he said, trying to appease her.
Between Dan, Serena, Eric, Nate and even Jenny had taken turns staying with Blair whenever they could, but Serena was right – it was too much for them to handle. Blair was broken and, at times, he felt it was beyond repair.
They all felt it – like their perfect, fabulous world had been shattered and none of them knew how to fix it. It was like the world was harsher, darker, and filled with sooth.
He missed Chuck more than he would ever admit to anyone, but he could tell the others saw it in his eyes. When there would be a party, he would stand alone, almost to the sidelines and expect to see Chuck show up, women draped on either of his arms and high as a kite. But Chuck never showed to the parties, and Nate would get piss-drunk and wake up with a disapproving Jenny or Serena looking down at him.
Grieving time, that's what his therapist had called it.
Fucking pissed is what he preferred. Because it wasn't fair that Chuck, the one with most life, had been taken away so suddenly.
So, yes, he was angry. He was fucking pissed. He drank more, initiated fights that he had no chance of winning because he held on to the dim hope that Chuck would break through the crowd and throw a few punches himself – always helping out, regardless of the consequences. Always faithful.
He became even angrier when it was his turn to deal with Blair. She was a shell of the girl he had loved once. She spoke only when she had to speak, she never smiled and the saddest times were when they would catch her emptying the contents of her stomach over and over. A few times he'd had to carry to her bed wondering if she would ever be Blair again. He would look down at her and ask himself; where was Blair Waldorf? Had floated away or was she buried six-feet deep?
He knew very well that going to Yale was only more excuse for more drinking, more womanizing… it's as if he was trying to bring Chuck back by becoming him.
He would have no time to care for Blair. Not the way they'd been doing.
"I'll try to… talk to her." Nate said slowly. Serena took in his very recent black eye and he looked away.
"Nate," she said softly, head tilted. Nate avoided her eyes and clenched his jaw.
"It's grieving time, Serena." He spat, angrily. Fists clenching. His knuckles were still angry – still hungry.
"You're fucking pissed, is what I would say," she stated and stood to leave.
"Serena-"
"I need a day off." Her voice was flat. "I'm tired, too. I'm meeting Dan for lunch. I just…" She looked around, lost. "I need to not think about all this for a minute. I need to remember that we're only eighteen."
It was true; Serena had taken the brunt of the hit when it came to Blair. Spending nearly every night with her, making sure she ate and slept. While Nate did show up sporadically, he just couldn't stand to look at Blair. Especially when she would always look just beyond his shoulder to see if a certain dead man came in after him.
But he was alone now. He was alone. He needed a drink.
--
Baby ballerina's
Hiding somewhere in the corner
Where the shadow wraps around her
And our torches cannot find her
Nate found Blair sitting on her royal chair. His throat worked as he remembered Chuck also loving that chair. He would lounge on it just to piss her off and see her huff, attempting to dislodge him. Now that Nate thought back at all their arguments he realized Chuck just wanted Blair to touch him. Hate was always better than indifference.
She was now dressed immaculately but so unlike Blair that it made his heart sink a bit. Jenny was sitting across from her, reading out loud. She was reading page 6. Blair's face was blank and didn't even notice him come in. Jenny looked up from her page and threw him a smile.
Jenny Humphrey was still as lovely as ever with some more meat in her bones and curves on her body. She was quickly becoming the most coveted girl in Constance and she still looked at Nate like he would never disappoint her. Of course he couldn't look at her while she still saw him that way.
"Hey," she said softly and then turned to Blair, who was staring blankly at the window.
"Hey," he replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets and motioning to Blair.
Jenny shrugged and stood to meet him. What was there to say? She was obviously not well otherwise it wouldn't be Jenny here but Iz. Blair didn't care who now accompanied her.
"Blair, look – Nate's here!" Jenny tried to cheer her up.
Blair slowly turned and took Nate in – for a moment a shadow passed through her face as she did her customary look over his shoulder. When she saw that nothing stood behind his shoulder, she visibly sagged.
"Hi, Nate," her voice was toneless.
"Hey, Blair!" He tried to be chipper. "I came over to see if you wanted to go to dinner."
"Sounds fun!" Jenny, enthusiastically. Blair ignored her.
"I'm not hungry, but thanks for asking." She looked like Blair, but somehow Nate wanted to shake her.
"It's for later." He sat before her.
Blair's eyes were dim and dark. "I'm not hungry, but thanks for asking."
"I'm not taking no for an answer," he stated and stood, looking down at her.
"Nate…" she began tiredly, closing her eyes.
"Blair," he snapped. Her head reeled back to look at him, as if no one had spoken louder than a whisper around her for months. This technically was true. "Sitting around in your house and moping is not going to bring Chuck back!"
She looked like he had slapped her. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was agape.
Next to him he was aware of Jenny shifting, not knowing what to do.
"Starting fights won't either," she said coldly.
For some reason this brought him a small amount of relief. Cold Blair was better than indifferent Blair.
She noticed her voice and then her eyes changed and she let out a sob. He didn't know what to do – he'd seen Blair cry plenty of times in his life. Usually and almost always over him or something he had done. He had hurt her over and over. But the chilling pain in her eyes he had never seen or ever caused. Now here she was – completely destroyed – because of his dead best friend.
That's when Nate realized that Blair loved to pretend that she loved Nate, but she had really fallen in love with Chuck Bass. She had finally fallen in love and it was destroying her.
In the back of his mind and through all of his anger, Nate hoped that one day he would love the way Blair loved Chuck.
He held her in his arms then. Maybe it was because she'd finally snapped but she agreed to go to dinner that night. She looked poised and perfect and was ever the lady she was taught to be.
Perhaps it was because she missed Chuck so much, or maybe it was because he had taken her to Victrola and she had seen the place shut down that she kissed him that night. He didn't mind because in a strange way it was the best he had felt in months. When she called him Chuck, his stomach didn't turn; in a way it brought him comfort and he thought that this was one confession he would never let his therapist know. She fell asleep before they even reached her house. As he stared down at her, he realized that though he would always love Blair Waldorf, he would never be in love with her. He had never been in love with her.
He remembered the way Chuck would stare at Blair through their "months at war" at the beginning of senior year. She would pretend she didn't see Chuck, but she enjoyed it too much; Chuck did also. Chuck loved watching her, hungrily taking her in. But Chuck was gone and so were those looks and Nate decided that if Chuck was up there somewhere watching over them, he would want Nate to look after his girl.
And at that moment Nate decided that he would.
She will stay there till the morning
Crawl behind us as we are yawning
And she will leave our game
To never be the same
--
"Is that the best you can do?" The voice next to his ear sneered.
His jaw clenched and he let his instincts take over, like he had been taught. Pulling out his handgun, he pointed it at the general direction and unloaded his entire clip at the unsuspecting dummy.
When he was done, he stared at the dummy and a small smile formed on his face.
"Now that's a killing," Tersa smirked at him.
He felt secretly pleased. Who would've thought that the spoiled little rich boy he had been just a year and a half ago would be now a lean-mean-fighting-machine? He had muscles in places he didn't know a man would have muscles, he had absolutely no emotions left in him, and he smirked when he hit his target. Chuck Bass was indeed dead.
"I'm a quick learner," he stated and reloaded his gun.
"If by quick, you mean seven months of training, then..." Tersa teased him.
Chuck gave her a smile. A smirk was more like it. He never smiled anymore.
"27 wants to talk to you today." Tersa looked at the clock behind him. "In five minutes."
"I like the way you tell me when I have to speak to her," Chuck said, placing his gun on the holster strapped to the side of his thigh. "It's always so very last minute."
"That way you don't have a chance to accidentally injure yourself and end up in medical." She smiled and walked away.
Chuck shook his head and walked out of the shooting compound. He waved to Mike before heading out, and the hulking man simply nodded in his direction.
Chuck knew the place by heart already; Sector was underground and took over a good half-a-mile radius. Inside they trained, studied, slept, ate, and did just about nothing else.
He walked past the techies and smirked at the redhead in blue. She gave him a sly look and turned back to work. She was his Wednesday girl.
"Bass." a lean and tall blond man walked towards him with a black duffle bag over his shoulder. He smirked down at Chuck.
"Jenkins," Chuck greeted him and held out his hand.
"Still around?" Jenkins asked and shook his hand, looking down almost proudly at him. Jenkins was the best the Sector had. He was what Chuck liked to refer to as the resident James Bond. Smooth, tall, handsome, and as charming as he was deadly.
Chuck owed him quite a few bruises and broken bones.
Chuck just nodded at his question, which made Jenkins' grin wider.
"I heard the rumor," Jenkins ventured and eyed a passing brunette in a move so subtle that Chuck had to admire it.
"Rumor?" Chuck inquired though he knew very well what rumor he was talking about.
"About to become a field man?" Jenkins leaned in, eyebrow raised.
"Rumors, Jenkins. Just rumors," Chuck stated, giving nothing away.
Jenkins studied him for a moment. "You remind me of myself, Bass. Not bad."
"I'm still me," Chuck drawled.
"Fair enough." Jenkins chuckled. "So – what's it going to be?"
Chuck cocked an eyebrow questioningly.
"The first thing you do." Jenkins clarified.
Once the agents were promoted to field-people they would get their own apartment and could live a normal life until their next assignment. Chuck hadn't smelled fresh air in over 18 months. Not since his funeral, not since the moment he last saw Blair.
Blair…
His stomach turned, but his face gave nothing away.
"I bet I can tell, Bass," Jenkins' smile now grew wider and there was a shadow of malice in it that sent chills down Chuck's back. "We all leave something behind. Something that we would give our lives to see, maybe even just one last time."
Chuck remained impassive, but his insides were quacking.
"For men like you and me, it's always the same. It's all about a girl."
Jenkins chuckled and Chuck realized that his eyes must've blinked – this was the way Jenkins always got to him. He would hit just the right spot.
"Bass." The cold voice behind them ended the conversation.
Jenkins turned and looked at the woman before them. "27," he greeted.
"I'm sure you have some work to do. Perhaps something that doesn't involve your mouth?" 27 asked leaving Jenkins with a cold glance before turning to Chuck.
She didn't need to say anything, just turned and he followed reluctantly.
He followed her well-shaped ass up the stairs and into her glass office. She took a seat and waited for him to do the same.
Chuck hated this woman.
"I am not used to be kept waiting." 27 said, glancing at the paperwork over her desk.
Chuck didn't reply. He had learned a long time ago that, with 27, it was best to pretend English was your second language.
"You've been recommended for field, Bass." She looked over him, taking in his stance and his body. "You think you're ready?"
Chucked looked at her and blinked.
"Fair enough," she replied to his look. "I'm willing to test you out."
Chuck's heart beat just a bit faster at the thought of being outside.
"I will let you piggyback with Jenkins on an assignment." She looked him over to see his reaction and smiled when he had none. She handed him a computer jump drive. "Know it by heart, you leave at 1600 hours."
Chuck took the drive and stood to leave.
"Bass," 27 said behind him. "What happens tonight will determine the type of agent you will eventually become." She stood from behind her desk and walked to him. He instantly noticed her hips. He knew that hip moment. It was the I-want-to-fuck-you hip movement. All the blood rushed out of his face. If there was one woman he didn't want to piss off, it was 27. She could make life hell for him. She placed her hand gently against his chest and it took all the strength in him not to slap it away… and probably drop kick her across the room. Because he could drop-kick now.
"I see great things for you, Bass. Just play your cards right," she finished and turned away from him, walking to her desk. She sat down as if she hadn't practically rubbed herself against him. Chuck swallowed and walked out.
He didn't know which was worse, an evening with Jenkins or 27's hands on him, doing anything other than beating him up.
Brave - What does it mean to be brave?
Does it mean that we're gonna have to behave?
Or should we weather the storm again
And never again say when
Is it our minds that warp reality?
Or is it our love that just won't let it be?
--
Blair Waldorf looked over the two dresses in front of her.
"I'm thinking the gray one." she told Dorota and Serena made a derisive sound behind her. "What?"
"Gray?" Serena asked, petting Blair's baby kitten. It was new and sadly neglected.
Blair shrugged. She liked gray.
"It's the new black," she explained.
"I miss the pink-wearing Blair," Serena stated, giving her an encouraging smile.
"I don't," Blair snapped and Serena knew not to push the subject. Blair still had these tender moments that they all knew to leave alone.
"I want everything to look perfect," Blair explained, inspecting the blue dress.
"You've never been anything but perfect," Serena reminded her, kissing the top of Cat's head.
Blair ignored that comment.
"So you think the blue is better?" she asked, glancing at Serena.
"Absolutely. Nate will love it and it will look stunning in the pictures. Plus, it'll really show off your tan," Serena stood and touched the light fabric.
Blair studied the dress and then finally nodded.
"You're right. Nate will like it much better," Blair admitted. She looked at Dorota. "Pearls, I think."
Dorota walked over to Blair's jewelry chest and pulled out a black box that had been stored in the very bottom. "How about this one, Miss. Blair? You never wear it."
Serena froze when she saw what was in Dorota's hands, she quickly yanked it from the maid's hands and attempted to hide it, but it was too late. Blair had seen it.
"Thank you, Dorota, that will be all," Serena pushed the maid out and turned to her friend.
Blair was becoming increasingly good at hiding everything and this worried Serena above all.
"Pearls are great, you're right," Serena smiled but Blair was staring at the box, her eyes lost. "B?"
Blair shook herself and gave Serena her signature forced smile. "Yes, pearls."
Later when Serena had left and Dorota was busy filling her tub with rose water, Blair walked to her closet and sat down by a corner. She pulled a shoe box which was securely closed. It was filled with photos. Forgotten photos. It also held a folded bright-patterned cloth that she didn't want to look at this moment. When it all became too hard and she couldn't breathe, she would look at the photos and just remember.
They all had one thing in common. They all contained Chuck's face.
She felt her hands tremble as she picked up her favorite one, the one taken the week before he died. They had just gotten into each other's good graces. No more wars, no more making each other jealous, no more snips and dry comments. Just them. Just Chuck and Blair; able to sit next to each other without everyone next to them feeling like the third, fourth & fifth wheel. They were at the Funchess party at Diablo. He had dressed in a red suit, and she matched him in her red dress. They looked like a pair of devils, but both of them gave the camera a toothy grin. It reminder her of an innocent time; a time before the sex, the love and the wars.
Sometimes, if she looked at the photo long enough, she swore she saw it move. Like he would smile back at her and perhaps give her a wink. When it got to that point, she would quickly stuff it back in the box and perhaps shower.
"Miss Blair, Mr. Nate called to confirm he's picking you up at seven for dinner party." Dorota called to her, shaking Blair out of her daze.
"Thank you!" She called back and stood to shower. Chuck Bass was best kept in a shoe box at the back of her closet.
--
Jenkins was already dressed in an immaculate tux when Chuck arrived to the debriefing room. Chuck was not actually going to be seen by anyone at all – he was to stay unnoticed and eliminate the target.
"Bass."
"Jenkins."
Tersa entered, dressed in a stunning backless ivory dress that was sure to capture every male attention in the room – which is exactly what they needed her for.
"Tersa," Jenkins looked over her, hungrily.
She ignored him.
"Know your man?" Tersa asked Chuck and he nodded. Chuck's first assignment was simple. Kill Boris Viloslovich during a dinner party while Tersa and Jenkins provided a distraction.
Chuck had diligently studied his case and knew all there was to know about Boris Viloslovich. All he had to do was pull the trigger but, though he knew his weapons and knew his dance, he had never killed a man before. This was his true test of manhood and of much more. He felt like he had swallowed a sea urchin.
"If Princess over there doesn't puke I dare say she'll do fine," Jenkins smirked at Chuck. Chuck ignored him.
"He'll do just fine," Tersa stated and then reached for her own equipment.
"Where's the place?" Chuck asked Tersa.
"A dinner brunch held by the Archibald family in New York."
Chuck's insides froze and his head snapped to look at Tersa, who looked like the cat that ate the canary.
"You're ready for this, little boy?" she asked.
Chuck's jaw twitched.
So this was what it was all about. His first test of true survival was to remain invisible as he watched his own world from his rifle. This would be hell and they knew it. His palms sweated just a bit, but he remained composed.
"What's there to be ready for?" Chuck replied, grabbing his rifle and walking out of debriefing.
--
When they arrived in Manhattan some hours later the city was welcoming the night into its wings and this familiarly began to seep into Chuck's soul. From behind his sunglasses, he watched the people walking, minding their own business, being completely unaware that a once fallen Prince was amongst them once more.
He almost broke and showed emotion when they passed the street Victrola used to be at. It was closed and abandoned. His heart leap at the thought that his once-beloved establishment was another failed business.
The van pulled behind a building in the process of being remodeled and the team got out. Chuck relished the air around him, but a look at Jenkins as he studied him with a smirk made him refocus.
Within the hour, Chuck had been set up at a window that overlooked where the dinner party would take place. He was trying his best ignore the all-too familiar scene and extravagant party atmosphere that had been so much a part of him before. The guests had not arrived yet. The staff was setting up, and he carefully watched them mill around.
He thought he even recognized one or two of the girls.
As the time drew closer and closer, he became more and more nervous – his stomach was not having this, and he seriously wondered if he could go through with it. The only thing he hoped – desperately hoped – was that no one he knew would be there, but the rational part of him knew it was just a wish.
He needed to concentrate; he needed to not think about anything – including Blair – at the moment.
"We're heading out," Tersa told him. Jenkins stood behind her, enjoying the backside of her gown. She placed a delicate hand in her ear. "Test."
Chuck placed his own finger over his transponder and nodded. "Clear."
"Next time we see you, you'll be a real boy," Jenkins smirked and walked out behind Tersa.
Chuck focused all of his attention on the scope and the party unfolding before him and ignoring the paper he had stepped on that clearly stated 'Bass Enterprises'. He was in his father's building.
--
"You look beautiful," Nate told Blair as she sat next to him in the limo.
Blair looked at him and gave him a small smile.
"Serena thought blue might be a good color." Blair admitted and smoothed out an invisible wrinkle from her dress.
"It is, I'm glad you chose it," Nate said distractedly.
Inside, Blair smiled. It was junior year all over again. Both of them were in robotic mode. They were with each other, but neither one of them was with the other. The only difference was that, this time, she was just glad to have someone next to her. He was her good friend. That she just happened to have sex with on Saturdays. As if it was planned out.
She didn't coddle him, didn't call him fifty times a day. Some weeks they even went days without speaking and would flawlessly come together for their events and social activities. Sometimes they would sit and watch a film together and he would hold her, but it felt… like a friend would hold you. There was no passion, no desire – nothing but the need to be close to each other, because otherwise what would you have?
He would always be a gentleman. He would look at her fondly, he would distractedly hold her hand and he would kiss her, but… she knew very well that he wasn't in love with her, just like he very well knew she was not in love with him.
She figured that she could live the rest of her life like this. Just like this. She could. Hadn't her mother done it for years? Only Blair had actually loved and loved passionately, she didn't know if she could say the same about her mother. Like they said; 'this better to have loved and lost and never have loved at all. Whoever said it obviously had never lost.
"Your mom must be so excited," Blair said, attempting dull chatter.
"Yes, and she really appreciates all your help with the caterer," Nate told her and squeezed her hand.
Blair gave him a small smile.
"I don't mind," Blair replied and went back to looking out the window.
"I don't think I'll be able to stay over you place tonight," he said after a while. Blair didn't move. "I have an early appointment."
"That's fine, I'll probably be exhausted by the end of the night," she said, squeezing his hand right back.
As they exited the car, Blair felt a chill go up her spine. As if a ghost was haunting her. She quickly shook off her confusion and followed Nate.
When they arrived, Anne greeted them both with much enthusiasm.
"Blair, the dress is exquisite," Anne complimented.
"Thank you," Blair continued the customary greetings.
Fifteen minutes into the meet and greet, she felt like hiding in the nearest broom closet. Broom closets were completely underrated.
It was the person she saw that made her stomach lurch. Bart was here.
Bart Bass hadn't really done many public appearances in the past year and a half. He mostly worked, kept to himself, and would occasionally be seen on Lily's arm. It was the perfect marriage for Lily; this one was a keeper. Bart was there, and Blair had to take a deep breath before going to greet him.
There was something in the way he greeted her – the way he looked at her that made her really look for a broom closet.
"Blair, dear!" Lily was always cuddling her; wearing a perpetual concerned look on her brows. It was her, after all, that had informed Blair of Chuck's death.
"Lily, how are you?" Blair smiled and embraced her.
Bart stood looking at her, no expression in his face, but still studying her. She shifted nervously.
"Mr. Bass." The name was poison in her mouth and she felt like barfing.
"Miss. Waldorf," he greeted back. "Why don't I get you lovely ladies a drink?"
He quickly excused himself. Lily looked down at Blair with an apologetic look, which Blair smoothed over with a knowing smile.
--
Chuck's hands really began to sweat when the guest began arriving and he started to recognize people. His heart beat just a little faster. Any moment now, he would see someone he really cared about.
It was shortly after that the tell-tale Bass limo pulled up and his father emerged with Lily on his arm. Chuck couldn't tear his gaze from his father. He missed the bastard and there were times when he wished he was no more than 6 years old and could go running into his father's study. Sure, his father never held him and cuddled him, but he was still his father. A larger-than-life man who looked after him, despite the apparent lack of emotion.
He noted that he looked… older, tired, and just plain removed from all that surrounded him. This caused him to swallow and look down. His father had lost his only son and heir.
Chuck watched the Basses enter the building and noticed Tersa and Jenkins enter behind his father as if they belonged there, greeting everyone warmly. He waited impatiently for Boris to arrive but before Boris arrived, a car pulled up and out stepped Nate. Chuck's heart gave a sudden swoop at seeing Nate. His best friend looked grown and responsible. As if he hadn't smoked pot in years. There was a slump to his shoulders and Chuck smiled sadly because Nate had become exactly what his parents had wanted him to be. Nate straightened his jacket and smiled inside the car before pulling with him a stunning Blair.
Chuck's feet felt cold and that chill ran up his body and into his hands until it reached his ears and he felt light-headed.
She was so absolutely beautiful. Chuck had nearly forgotten how close to perfection she was. Her hair was curled around her slender shoulders with small flecks of blonde highlights sprinkled around her dark curls. Her lips were ruby red and she wore a show-stopping blue dress that exposed all of her back. She bent down to pick up her slight train and Nate patiently waited for her like a gentleman. He watched as she slid her hand into his arm and they walked into the building.
For a moment – and he swore it was just a moment – she paused, looked over her shoulder and then shook her head slightly.
Chuck felt sick. He should probably find a bucket. It had been months since he allowed himself to think of something else other than the kiss he witnessed the day of his funeral. This time there was no denying it – Blair had found comfort in the arms of his best friend.
He believed she loved him when she said she did. Blair Waldorf, after all, never said anything she didn't mean. She had never lied to him about her feelings. That week they had spent together before his life ended, she had been as real as anything. Her kisses were real, her love was real – she was so very real.
He had witnessed it himself: she looked broken at his funeral. She looked lost. She still looked lost, as if the Blair sparkle had been completely sucked out.
He knew this feeling all too well. The Chuck sparkle was long gone, too.
It didn't take long for the Boris Viloslovich party to arrive. Viloslovich was new money from overseas. He was, however, so in over his head that he began selling weapons to Arab terrorists. The US government was just not having it. That's where Chuck came in.
He took a deep breath and mentally prepped himself. He had to get this over with and get out of here before he went looking for Blair, like a fool, and got them both killed.
He watched carefully, and Boris didn't disappoint. He arrived with an army of men who surrounded the building. He cracked his neck and followed the man with his eyes. Boris entered and was greeted everyone like the very socialite he wasn't; he was a charismatic and charming man. The women were naturally attracted to him, and the men desperately wanted to be let in on the deal. Chuck's jaw clenched, his eyes waiting for Tersa's signal. The dinner began and he was getting impatient. He was never one for patience – it had always been that way.
Fortunately for him, he didn't have to wait long. Before the salad was taken away, Tersa stood and swiftly slapped Jenkins and began shouting about an affair.
The UESers loved scandal nearly as much as an investment tip, so their attention was entirely directed towards the shouting couple.
There was his window of opportunity. With one eye closed, he aimed at Boris' head and then-
Blair Waldorf decided that moment to introduce herself and perhaps calm Anne's special guest.
"Fucking shit!" He hissed.
The last thing he wanted was to kill Boris with Blair in front of him. He looked to Tersa and Jenkins – security was quickly coming for them. He looked to Blair again, then to his partners.
Sweat was dribbling down his back, sticking to his black sweater.
Shit, shit, shit
And then he did it. He pulled the trigger.
It was Blair who screamed as the man collapsed on top of her.
Chuck's body felt cold but he knew what he had to do. He quickly picked his gun and when he looked out the window to the scene, his body froze. Blair Waldorf, blood on her face, was staring right at him.
Right into his soul.
He stood frozen before Blair was grabbed by Nate and pulled to the floor. Chuck shook himself and bounded down the stairs.
"Late much?" The piece in his ear hissed and he knew Tersa had limited time.
"It's done, isn't it?" he snapped.
He had just killed a man. He had just killed a man. He had killed a man right in front of Blair's face. The dead man had fallen on top of Blair. Blair had seen him.
Blair Waldorf knew he was alive.
It could be worse.
--
To be Continued