Part 2

Her knees were weak, and she sighed in relief when she finally stepped out of the cab. She had not realized that she had been holding her breath for most of the travel from Soi 8 to her hotel. The doorman graciously offered her a hand to help her out of the cab. Blair smiled and nodded to him as she stepped through the hotel doors.

"Miss Waldorf," greeted one of the hotel hostesses waiting by the door. "Welcome back."

"Thank you," Blair gushed. When one was exposed to places like the one that Chuck had chosen, one gets a newfound appreciation for things previously ignored. This place, this hotel which Cyrus had managed to book for her was so much more familiar that Blair finally allowed what had been choking her the entire ride over to overwhelm her. She crossed the marble floor towards the elevators and released a sob. The tears threatened to spill, and she prayed she would at least be inside the elevator when they did.

Blair slipped past the closing doors, then collapsed against the mirrored back wall. With fumbling fingers she reached for a piece of tissue from inside her bag, then dabbed under her eyes.

She didn't want to hurt, not anymore. But if this was what it meant to love Chuck Bass, then this is what she would live through.

The worst thing you've ever done, the darkest thought you've ever had, I will stand by you through everything.

Her eyes fluttered closed and swallowed heavily. Eighteen year olds shouldn't experience this. They weren't cut out for this kind of torture. Masochist or not, Blair Waldorf wasn't sure how long she could keep that promise.

When the elevator stopped at her floor, she straightened and walked to her room. She slipped her card key into the slot and waited for the green light to blink on the knob, then let herself in. At least, she thought tiredly, she finally knew exactly where Chuck was. At least, despite trying to drink himself to death, she knew he was alive.

She crawled into bed and let her body relax.

Blair woke up with a start. She gasped at the loud rapping on her door. She glanced at the watch on the bedside table and saw that it was seven in the morning. Blair dragged her feet to the door and peered through the keyhole. Her eyes widened. Hastily, she opened the door.

"Miss Waldorf, we are very sorry," said the hostess. One of the guards stood behind her holding Chuck back. "We told him he couldn't go up here without your permission, but he barged right on through."

"What the hell, Blair!" Chuck cried out as he struggled with the man. "Tell them to let me go."

Blair nodded. "It's ok," she managed. "Sorry for the confusion. I was expecting him."

The guard let Chuck loose. Chuck straightened his jacket and strode arrogantly into her room, then slammed the door behind him. He glowered at Blair. "I told you to stay in the motel."

Her eyebrow arched, and she folded her arms across her chest. "Just because I've said those three words doesn't mean I have to follow your orders." He turned his gaze away, and Blair felt triumph at the fact that she could make him uncomfortable with honesty. "And I'm not going to hang around a cheap motel while you have your fill of exotic women."

His nostrils flared. "Why can't you understand? There's no place for you in my life right now." He stood so close to her that his harsh breathing caused wisps of her hair to float up, then down.

She met his eyes. "But here you are at an unholy hour for you, I'm sure."

"When I've just been informed that you dropped off your keys in the middle of the night!" he bit out. "You don't know how dangerous this country is for a girl traveling alone. That was ignorant." She turned around and picked up the phone handset. "You don't have to call security. I'll leave on my own."

Blair reached out her hand to stop him, then shook her head. "You look like you haven't showered, or eaten for days," she said as she waited for reception to pick up. "Room service please. Continental breakfast for two in room 3216." And then she hung up.

"I'm not hungry," Chuck growled.

She gave him a small smile, then threw his words back at him. "Well that's too bad, because you're gonna eat if I have to shove food down your throat."

"Nathaniel was right. So maternal," he drawled.

Blair threw a confused look at him. "When did you talk to Nate?" If Nate knew where Chuck was all along, and she had to go through weeks of cajoling Jack Bass to give her the pictures from the PI he had hired to track Chuck down, she was going to be pissed off.

"Couple of hours ago. Nathaniel was surprised," he muttered. Chuck smirked. "You didn't think I just happened to figure out which predictably high class hotel your stepfather chose for you, did you? Even I'm not that good. After calling the eighth one who won't give me information, I trusted that good old Nathaniel still kept tabs on his ex-girlfriend." Chuck sat down on the bed and lay back on her pillows. "I have to say that dear Nathaniel is always such a character. He knows more about your whereabouts now than when the two of you were dating."

If anything could bring Blair and Nate back to talking and working closely together, it was their small circle. First, it was Serena's meltdown and now, it was the search for Chuck.

"Or," Chuck continued with a sleazy drawl, "have you already hopped back in the sack with him?" He shrugged. "It's got some poetic justice in it if you did."

He was baiting her, and she was not going to give in so easily. She didn't travel all the way and hunt him down to a place worse than Brooklyn only to let his carefully selected words offend her. Blair sighed, then sat down beside him. On the bed, he stiffened, held his breath as she leaned over him. "What can I to make it better, Chuck?"

"Leave me alone," he gritted. "And what I can I do to get you to leave?"

"Nothing," she replied with an angelic softness. "I will get you on a plane back to the US if it's the last thing I do," she swore.

He sat up, then raked his eyes over her. She raised her chin. He narrowed his eyes. "I want to be clear on something, before you waste your time. If you're here waiting for me to say them, don't hold your breath," he advised.

"I don't need to hear them," she parried.

"Good. Because I don't love you, Blair."

Her eyes flicked, and she cleared her throat against the pang in her heart. "That's fine," she whispered.

"I thought, for a minute, I did. But my father's death gave me a better understanding of what love is, and I don't want to waste it in childish infatuation." He shook his head. "You're a hot piece of ass. But I'm not in love with you."

She hated herself for the tears. But still she kept the smile on her face as she cupped his cheek with its light stubble.

The worst thing you've ever done, the darkest thought you've ever had…

"I still love you," she said softly.

Through the glaze of her tears, she saw the frustration mount in his eyes. Blair stifled the cry in her chest when he turned abruptly away from her and strode out of her hotel room.

She blindly stumbled to the side of the bed and picked her cellphone, then pressed her speed dial. The phone was answered almost immediately, and she didn't care that she was interrupting a night. She sobbed into the phone as she clutched it to her ear.

"Blair, sweetheart," came the soft voice on the other line.

"I don't know how long I can do this for," she choked out.

"Then come home," Cyrus urged. "I told you he needs time. Maybe he needs more."

She sniffed, then wiped at her tears. "I can't leave now." In the face of true love, you don't just give up even if the object of your affection is begging you to. "But I need to breathe," Blair said into the phone. "I'm suffocating. I want to scream."

"Sweetheart," Cyrus said in trepidation, "maybe you're not ready for this."

"I'm not," she admitted. "I'm really not." If she were, it wouldn't hurt this much.

"Do you want your mom and me to pick you up?"

"No," she said in a hush. "I just—I needed to hear a friendly voice."

"Alright." She could almost imagine her little stepfather nodding his head. She was so lucky with fathers. She wished Chuck had been as well. "Call anytime," Cyrus urged. "And if you need us, we'll be on the first flight in."

"Enjoy your honeymoon. Sorry for interrupting."

"Anytime. Remember, Blair, we love you."

She hung up the phone and released a tremulous breath. At least someone did.

The sound of the doorbell brought her back to reality. She opened the door and waved the bellboy in.

"Room service, Miss Waldorf."

"Thank you," she mumbled and handed the boy two hundred baht bill. Left alone in the room, she stared at the two heaping plates of breakfast food. The bile rose in her throat, and she slapped her hand to her mouth and ran to the bathroom.

Her phone rang, and she pulled herself up straight. Blair splashed cold water on her face and washed her mouth. She walked back towards the bedroom and looked at the flashing screen. She hit ignore, and a few seconds later, the phone rang again.

"Nate," she said hoarsely. "I'm really not in the mood to talk right now."

"I spoke to Chuck," her ex-boyfriend said in a rush. "So you found him. He was asking for your hotel."

"Thank you for that, by the way," she said sarcastically.

"I thought you wanted to find him. I didn't think there was a reason not to tell him where you were." There was a pause. "Did he come to see you?"

"Yeah," she confirmed.

"Blair, are you crying?" Nate asked quietly.

"Not anymore."

"I told you not to go after him—in the funeral, in Bangkok. Just give him space."

"Nate, I'm too tired for this."

"Listen." She heard him sigh. "Give me a few hours to make arrangements. I'm coming to get you."

Blair clutched the phone tighter to her ear. "No, Nate!" she exclaimed. "You don't need to come here. I'm not going back with you. I'm not going back until I can get through to Chuck."

"There's no way of getting through to him right now. We have to wait it out."

"Today is the first day you heard from Chuck in a month, because he was trying to find my hotel," Blair pointed out. "If anyone can through to him, I can." She took a deep breath. "He's coming home whether he wants to or not."

"What are going to do?"

Blair walked over to her still unpacked bag and drew out a red minidress. Blair held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and hung the dress up by the closet. Humphrey had advised once to be unavoidable. She knew what to expect, and she did not look forward to another encounter where Chuck got off on gutting her.

"Blair—"

But this what masochists do. Over and over and over until there was nothing left to bleed.

"I'm going to see him."