MONTH 5 (CONT.)
It's around midnight when he stumbles home, completely and utterly drunk - and half out of his mind with grief. The doorman merely glances down at him with pity in his aged eyes while he gently pulls open the gilded doors, allowing the weary man to pass through, his designer shoes scraping the marble floors and his briefcase long since forgotten in the limousine.
He's exhausted and wished beyond all faithfulness that he would never have to return home to her but he supposes he does feel a modicum of guilt - he never did meet her at that blasted soiree she insisted they host. Was it his fault? She knew of his disgust with all things formal but had gone on with the plans and thrown the damned party; well, she reaped what she sowed - a shallow, vindictive little bitch she was!
But you're cut from the same cloth as her, Carter, don't you forget it, his mind murmurs in an almost sympathetic way - as if it knew that he couldn't help who he was.
Serena hasn't seen too much of Chuck since that charity ball they went to together and she has only a slight inkling of exactly where he's been - he comes home reeking of Blair's perfume and he wears that self satisfied smirk that he always dons whenever he's made Serena lose control.
She slides herself off of their bed and makes her way to the kitchen; she's craving for something strong - like bourbon - but instead, grabs a glass of lemonade because she doesn't want to harm the baby. She's responsible now. Mostly because she's not caring for herself but for something - someone - else growing inside of her.
Her little Henry Laurence.
When she'd told Chuck of the name she'd picked, he'd given her an amused smirk before prodding on,
"Henry Laurence? Do you plan for my son to somehow become a stage actor one day?" His voice full of suppressed mirth as he dark mocha eyes danced with a light that came out but once in a blue moon.
The blonde had stuck out her tongue in childish abandon as they sat sprawled on the couch, the film 'Bringing Up Baby' playing before them, its volume just a low buzz of words.
"It's called being sophisticated Chuck," she'd reprimanded him with a mocking tone, "besides if we named every kid we have something boring like Bart or Chuck, we'd end up like the Royal Family in Britain - no creativity."
The Bass tycoon allowed a mock glare to appear upon his countenance before pulling the lithe blonde closer to him, the silkiness of her skin combined with the soft cotton of her pajamas made him feel comforted and relaxed - a deep indulgence of feelings he couldn't afford daily.
"You're getting arrogant there, van der Woodsen." He'd threatened, his voice such a deep, rich baritone that it sent shivers down Serena's spine; the beginnings of a giggle were already bubbling from her lips, like champagne bubbles escaping from its green glass home.
"And how am I arrogant, Bass?"
"No one ever outdoes a Bass in terms of naming," he condescends, the pride in his voice was almost comical and had Serena covering her mouth to suppress the burst of laughter that was ready to stream out. "We," he emphasized, "are masters in the art of such."
"Oh by…this is why I've made it my personal mission to never let your ego get past stratosphere!" The blonde cried in amusement as she gave her boyfriend a soft shove before she heard his laughter rumbling through his chest as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
"How about just Mount Everest?" He inquired, pulling her atop of him, reveling in the warmth that rolled off of her, much like the sunshine did on a spring day.
A coy smile appeared upon her pink lips, "and how do you propose I do that, Mr. Bass?"
"Let me make love to you," was his only response before he melded his lips onto hers, causing all other thoughts to fly from her mind, leaving her nothing but the feel of his hands upon her body and the gentle breeze of the night air slipping through the half open windows - the only thing to cool their passionate trysts.
It was with those thoughts that Serena felt herself feel somewhat disappointed as she sipped upon her lemonade, allowing her deep blue eyes to flash open as she cradled the glass tumbler in her hand. That little memorial she and Chuck shared had occurred over a week and a half ago; it wasn't even that she minded that they hadn't done anything, it was the fact that the had become elusive to her.
He had begun slipping away at odd hours, his work load increasing every day even though profits for Bass Industries had never been higher. His constant business meetings occurring one right after another, his secretary's refusal to allow her to see him during his lunching hour.
What the fuck! Serena wanted to scream when the petite brunette with the dark green eyes and thick, black rimmed frames had smart mouthed to her that "Mr. Bass is busy, he won't be seeing you today," with that sickly sweet 'sucks for you' smile that made the golden haired girl want to snap her neck in two.
Fucking bitch, Serena momentarily thought before setting down the glass with an irritated slap. Where the hell was Chuck, anyways? She momentarily pondered; it wasn't as if she could control what time the man got home but considering he had a girlfriend and baby on the way, the least he could freaking do was arrive at the penthouse at around, oh…a reasonable hour? Some time that wasn't the time that would considered appropriate for hard core partying? Was that too much to ask?
Closing her eyes, Serena knew it was just the stress of the pregnancy combined with Blair's absence and Chuck's mysterious agenda that was causing her blood to boil and her mind to repress thoughts that she didn't even want inside her head in the first place.
Nate had told her that Blair was busy planning some Scottish duchess's charity event or something (Blair now had her own online event planning business) but Serena didn't buy it: first off, Blair hated Scotland and secondly, unless this was going to be a globally recognized event, don't count on Blair Waldorf even considering taking up the job. And if all that was (believed to be) true, why would Blair lie to Nate? Blair loves Nate. She wouldn't lie to him…she just wouldn't, Serena mentally argued with herself.
Maybe B's just busy with actual events…or maybe Nate just heard her wrong? Or maybe she and Chuck are secretly sleeping together and they just don't want me to know?
Oh fuck.
Chuck Bass was always a man who held control in every aspect of his life - from what he ate (or not ate) in the morning to what time Wall Street's stock market would rise and fall. He absolutely loathed it when something would slip through his fingers and unto the granite floor underneath him; he'd always known how to bring things back into orbit once they've floated off. He was a Bass after all, but this, this (and here's where he sighed and closed his eyes) was something no bribery or slick tongue (well, maybe if he played his cards right) could really ever fix.
From the start he had suspected Serena would catch onto his going a-bouts fairly quickly; after all, the simple 'dumb blonde' act she kept up for public appearances often worked in her favor and caused those that held a morbid sense of self to suppose they were superior to her.
Not Chuck, though.
He had easily seen through her cleverly produced facade and had known exactly what he was dealing with the moment he'd set eyes on her: a beautiful, honest, and childlike mortal goddess who couldn't help the mistakes she made because it was those same mistakes that just made her so endearing to those around her. How could he fault her and her persona when they were the very things he found himself being drawn to?
Oh, he knew she could play the little witch when she wanted to - though she rarely did - and he had the inkling that she strayed from clawing out her more Bass-like instincts because both he and Blair were there to do it for her. He'd held onto the hope that she would keep suppressing those emotions - those streaks of paranoia that were so apparent in both the Waldorf girl and his own characters - and simply allow that radiant inner sun in herself to shine, to just remain oblivious for a few days more when he would have everything done and fixed. When they could go back to being them, when he was gone.
But something in the cosmos was displeased with the Bass tycoon and so had decided to gentle begin crumbling down the wall Serena had built between herself and those feelings she'd suppressed. Chuck had immediately sensed something wrong in the air when he'd arrived home two days prior; though the scent of vanilla wafers swirled through the air, and he could hear his blonde minx singing (rather off key) with the radio, something had shifted.
When he'd leaned over to press a kiss to the nape of her neck, she'd stiffened slightly before turning around and giving him a smile - but it wasn't her usual, easy going smile that dazzled those around her. No. It was a soft, pained smile that showed she was clinging onto the very last of her control - and seeing her smile like that, seeing her smile like he did when the bitter agony of the world tore him apart, seeing her smile like Blair did when things became too much…it shattered the icy walls around his heart and for once, Chuck Bass cared completely and wholly about someone other than himself.
"S, what's wrong?" He murmured, cupping her soft, peachy skin with both of his hands, tiling her face up so he could meet the blue of her eyes.
Instead, however, she struggled to veer away from him but his grip was strong and Serena was slightly uncoordinated at the moment, her hands still sticky with honey and vanilla.
"I…" she trailed off, sliding her eyes from his own and looking at the wall behind him. "Nothing," she sighed, "I'm just…surprised you came home early, that's all." It was a half truth.
And he spotted it immediately.
A frown appeared upon his face.
"You can't lie to me S, and you know it."
"Well I've never needed to lie to someone up until this point, have I?" She spat back bitterly before taking a sharp intake of breath - damn, she'd cursed. She'd blown it.
Chuck's jaw tightened and his features became flint like; dropping his hands from her cheek as if they had burned him, he took a small step back as he looked at her. She was so frail…so much like the delicate yellow rose blossoms he often bought her…he couldn't hurt her, he didn't want to hurt her.
"What are you talking about, Serena?" He demanded (and now, as he sits in his office at Bass Industries, he wishes beyond yonder that he could've just admitted to his faults and pleaded for her forgiveness). "You're acting like a child."
Immediately, he knows that was the wrong thing to say because the ocean blue of her eyes flash into the stormy cerulean of a tidal wave, and her hands ball themselves into fists.
"I'm acting like a child?" She asked, voice laced with suppressed anger and…hurt? "Since when is wondering where you are acting like a child, Chuck? Or am I just supposed to let you remember me when it's convenient for you and sit back like the good little girl I am when you decide to forget me?"
The unmistakable glint of irritation appeared in the dark haired man's eye and his face lost all hints of tenderness; the coldness that so marked the Bass family came creeping up in full force, and Serena found herself slightly intimated, though she'd sooner drink bleach than admit that to Chuck.
"Is this what you've been getting yourself sick over, Serena?" He asks, his voice low and dangerous and still silky smooth at the same time. She sees the beginning of a mocking smirk appear on his face and her own eyes narrow. "Because if it is then I have to say it's pathetic - you know full well of what my position is. And the things that I not only now have to do for Bass Industries, but for you as well."
"Me?" She hisses, one hand unconsciously cradling her stomach, "you think I'm complaining that you don't spend enough time with me? Is that it, Bass?"
He lets a sardonic and callous smirk appear in full force as he gives a glance at her shaking form; he can't help it - he's a Bass through and through and these emotions that are running wild in him are like a stampede of horses. He doesn't know how to express them and he's afraid to bottle them up, lest they implode within his own soul.
He's resorted back to being the icy jackass that he'd been in high school (but he unconsciously makes sure never to allow the same coldness that he had towards Blair ever leak out towards Serena).
Giving a carless nod, Chuck makes his way towards the liquor cabinet while he hears Serena tailing him. "Isn't it?" He inquires, grasping a gilded glass tumbler and pouring himself a generous helping of scotch. "It's always the same with you girls, isn't it? When we don't report on time for whatever it is we're supposed to do, we suffer your wrath?" He bites out coldly as he takes a deep sip, turning to face an incredulous Serena. "Don't you understand?" He tries, keeping his voice steady. "I'm doing all this for you."
But he's just a fraction too late - because Serena's mind has gone into overdrive and all she can think about is his cold eyes, the faint scent of Blair's perfume, the crude way he addresses her…him calling their child a…
"You haven't done near enough, Bass."
A low, cruel chuckle fills the air as Chuck smiles nastily down at Serena - he's so weary now. The Humphrey brat, Blair's own secrecy, that bitch he's resorted to calling on for aid…he can't deal with the blonde beauty before him as well.
"I haven't done enough for you?" He asks, and a winter chill runs down her spine. Something has shifted. "I've taken you in, given you support, allowed you to run around doing whatever it is you want without so much as uttering a single word against you, van der Woodsen. I've taken what you've said about your pregnancy in stride even though," his eyes flicker down at her flat stomach, "you don't even have a modicum of proof for it. I've bent myself over backwards for you and my," he sneers, "child. Don't think I've forgotten your past dalliances with those random men at the expense of my credit card. I know what you've done Serena, and I've turned a blind eye to it…unless you give me reason to reexamine everything."
Her face pales - not from fear, but from pure anger, hurt, and utter disappointment.
"Is that what you really think of me, Chuck?" She says, her voice soft but controlled with such dignity that Chuck quickly realizes that he's overstepped his boundaries. "You think of me as some kind of gold digging whore whose lied to you about the paternity of our child?" Her expression becomes one of stunned and bitter amusement, her head shaking slightly. "I…"
"Serena-"
"I'm such a god damn fool. I honestly expected you to…I thought you…" she can't bring herself to finish the sentence because she feels her throat constricting but she bites down on her lower lip - hard.
She won't cry in front of the bastard, she won't.
Chuck wants to punch himself because it's not Humphrey or anyone else that marks the reason to Serena's strangled voice and misty eyes - it's not because of Brooklyn that she's wounded from bullets made of icy words and crude behavior.
It's him.
I've hurt her. He realizes, blinking. I've…hurt her.
And he suddenly thinks that all those things his father, Blair, anyone and everyone he's ever met, telling him that he's Chuck Bass and he everything he touches breaks…are true.
He's broken Serena van der Woodsen. The golden girl who can't be broken.
"Serena, listen to me," he rushes, carelessly placing his scotch down on the mahogany side table before him, reaching down to grasp her waist.
She pulls away from him like he's poison, her eyes gleaming with distrust and hurt.
Oh fuck.
You lose Serena van der Woodsen's trust, Chuck bites down on his lip, and it's like going through hell and back trying to win it over again.
"Serena-"
"Just leave me alone, Chuck. I'll try not be too much of hinderance," she hisses the word out, "to you or anyone else for that matter."
She rushes out from the sitting room and disappears down a hallway. All the while, Chuck's frozen in place.
What has he done?
He blinks.
Sitting down at his office desk now, Chuck asks himself the same question - what has he done?
The former Brooklyn native (he considers himself washed free of his rather less than stellar past) peers down at the list of addresses that have all been inhabited by one Georgina Sparks. His finger lazily grazes over the first few, eyes not liking what he saw, until he comes across a recent one (being wealthy did enable Dan to do certain ludicrous things…such as hiring a private eye to tail one Miss Sparks): 15 Halloway Road, Trenton, New Jersey.
He smirks.
Gotcha.
A/N: I'm baaackkk! Updating 'Child of Bass' has been on my number one priority list and I just got hit with inspiration a few days ago so...here you go!
To those of you who might say that Chuck was really a BASStard, I just want to tell you all that this was the way he was with Blair sometimes, and this was basically how he was portrayed throughout all of Season 1 and most of Season 2. He loves Serena, he does, and he's put her first (most of the time) but he's still Chuck, and he'll always consider what he thinks is best as RIGHT (even if it isn't). He doesn't want Serena to know about Dan or his plans or anything and he'll keep it that way - even if it means breaking her heart.
He's doing it because he loves her, but also for some selfish reasons as well.
They're going to be in for a bit of a bumpy ride (quote Margo Channing)...and next chapter we'll see Blair and Nate, Jenny, and also Miss Georgina Sparks.
REVIEW, s'il vous plait!