One day very soon, I'm going to sit down and reply to all the reviews I haven't gotten to yet. One day as in one day this week as it's my last full week before my last semester of college starts. But for now, please accept my mass thank you to all of you who have reviewed thus far. You'll get a more personal reply soon. You all are wonderful!

I may have led a couple of you astray. Sadly, Chuck has no accent. I had already written it out, but seriously considered changing him to Australian after reading a few of your replies. Because I mean really, an Aussie Chuck Bass? Yes, please. I hope you still read despite the lack of accent. :)

THINGS I OWN: A countdown to how many days until it's Football Time In Tennessee. THINGS I DON'T OWN: Gossip Girl.

Chuck sat by himself in the courtyard two days later, eating an apple and idly reading Gossip Girl on his phone. He had scoured the website since school let out the first day and from it, he had gathered a number of critical details to life on the Upper East Side.

Most importantly, he had gathered that Blair was the Queen of Constance. She was the meanest of the mean girls, a straight A student, chair of half the committees offered by Constance, spent her free time volunteering. She was, in Chuck's opinion, the very definition of an overachiever.

Nate really was as vanilla as he seemed. He played lacrosse and was a Vanderbilt. Other than the occasional joint, he had no known vices. Even his relationship with Blair Waldorf was boring though from reading the archives, Chuck was curious about them. They were too bland, too – comfortable, maybe. He knew nothing about being a boyfriend, but he was certain a good boyfriend would have been there for his girlfriend while her parents were divorcing. Instead, Nate had been off on some sailing expedition or away at lacrosse camp or something while his girlfriend's world had fallen apart around her.

He was trying to figure out who this 'S' person Gossip Girl kept mentioning was. All he knew was that they weren't in the city and were somehow connected to Blair. There was the mystery around why Blair kept being seen at some center that he had gathered was a mental health and drug rehab institution as well. He wished it didn't intrigue him as much as it did. He looked up from his phone just in time to see Blair strut by.

"No minions following you around today, Waldorf?" he called. She stopped and turned to face him.

"No Nate to make you feel less like an outsider?" she shot back.

"You know as well as I do that Nathaniel is at a lacrosse meeting. Seeing as you're missing your clones, maybe you could join me for lunch."

"Please," Blair scoffed. "Like I'm that desperate."

"Is it that the Queen won't be seen eating in the lowly courtyard with Chuck Bass or that she's attracted to Chuck Bass and would prefer to keep it her little secret?" Chuck asked. Blair's frown deepened.

"You are disgusting," she informed him.

"You say that now."

"Goodbye, Chuck," Blair said, turning to leave.

"Seriously, Blair. Eat lunch with me." Blair turned back to him against her better judgment. She found it hard to ignore Chuck, despite how much she wanted to.

"Why?"

"Because I know two people in this whole school – you and Nathaniel. Nate is unavailable right now so you're my last hope for human interaction on my lunch hour."

"Last hope, huh? That really makes sitting here with you while I eat my yogurt sound enticing."

"If that isn't enough to lure you in, the fact that I'm Chuck Bass should hook you." Blair rolled her eyes and walked away making Chuck's lips curl into his signature smirk. "Pleasure talking to you, Waldorf," he called after her. Blair's answer was to toss her hair over her shoulder without turning to face him. He chuckled to himself. She really was a hoity thing.

"Hi, Chuck," said a tall girl with long red hair as she walked past him. He took in her legs for days and surgically modified chest.

"Hello there," he replied, jumping off the picnic table. He put an arm around her when he caught up with her. "How about we take a walk?"

"Ashley Lauder? She has a reputation as the easiest lay in Constance," Nate told Chuck. They were lounging in the suite his father had booked for him at The Palace while he looked at real estate for a more permanent residence. Chuck wasn't holding his breath.

"I'd believe it. She wasn't exactly inexperienced if you know what I mean," Chuck replied. He passed the joint him and Nate were sharing to Nate and stretched his arms over his head. Nate just chuckled. Chuck glanced over at him and saw he looked uneasy. He raised an eyebrow. "You look uncomfortable, Archibald."

"What? No. It's just the joint..."

"Waldorf not letting you between her legs?" Chuck pressed with a smirk. He knew Blair was a good girl, at least in appearance, but in his experience, those were usually the ones who were the kinkiest in bed. And with a body as hot as hers, surely Nate was sliding into home on a regular bases.

"Blair... She wants her first time to be special." Chuck choked on his drink.

"Her first time? Waldorf is a virgin?" Even he could hear the disbelief in his voice.

"It's not a big deal," Nate said so quickly that Chuck knew it was, in fact, a big deal. "The thing about Blair is she lives in her own movie that plays out in her head. She has a scrapbook about how she wants her life to go – prom, wedding, kids, all of it. She has this romantic image in her head of her firs time that involves candlelight and roses and being so in love she can't see straight."

"So light some candles, buy some roses, stick some condoms in the nightstand and seduce her," Chuck told him. "You've been dating this chick since grade school, right? So that means you're a virgin by proxy. Unless you got busy before you hit puberty which wouldn't count in my opinion. Don't let her need to keep the chastity belt on ruin your good time. Get her drunk if you have to."

"Who says I'm a virgin?" Nate said defensively. He immediately looked like he regretted what he said. Chuck raised an eyebrow.

"Nathaniel Archibald isn't the faithful boyfriend everyone things he is," Chuck realized. "Do tell."

"It was nothing," Nate said with a shake of his head. "It was one time and that was it. Blair doesn't have any idea so don't tell her."

"Like I'm going to taint your one time," Chuck replied, reaching for the joint. "Fill me in on something else though – who is this 'S' person Gossip Girl keeps talking about? I've figured out most everyone else except for S and Lonely Boy."

"Lonely Boy is Dan Humphrey," Nate explained. "He's from Brooklyn, goes to St. Jude's on scholarship. He's a writer or a photographer or something. He doesn't exactly rotate in the same social circle as us. And S... Well, she's Serena van der Woodsen. She's a lot of things, but former best friend of Blair Waldorf is at the top of them."

"Former?" Chuck pressed. He couldn't pinpoint why he was so intrigued by Blair, but he found himself wanting to know more about her.

"Blair holds grudges better than anyone I've ever met. Serena has been her best friend since they were in preschool. One night, Serena was at Blair's, watching one of those ridiculous Audrey Hepburn movies Blair loves and the next morning, she was gone. No one has heard from her and her mother refuses to tell where she is. Blair really needed her this summer, but Serena didn't so much as call her. If Serena comes back, she better avoid Blair at all costs."

"Sounds like this Serena creature got a better offer elsewhere," Chuck drawled, opting not to point out Blair had needed her boyfriend as well.

"It doesn't make sense. Serena is a bit of a party girl, to be sure, but Blair and her were inseparable. They were each other's crutch. Serena was there for Blair whenever she had one of her dramatic breakdowns and Blair was always cleaning up after Serena. For Serena to just up and leave us like she did... It doesn't make any sense."

Chuck studied Nate. He had always had a knack for reading people and it seemed Nate Archibald was no exception to the rule.

"Serena was your one night only special," he stated. Nate looked like a deer in the headlights.

"What? No, of course not. I wouldn't do that to Blair..."

"You're busted, Archibald. Don't try to deny it."

"It was one time," Nate said defensively. "We were at a wedding and we were both a little drunk. It just happened. Neither of us ever want Blair to find out. It would devastate her."

"Your secret is safe with me," Chuck said, meaning it. At least for the moment. He had grown rather fond of Nate over the couple of days he had known him. He would use the information if necessary however. He had long ago along learned that allegiances were meant to be broken.

"I'm holding it to you, Bass."

"You have my word, Nathaniel," Chuck promised.

"So hey, I've been meaning to ask you, why don't you have an accent? You lived in Australia basically your whole life, right?" Nate asked, pointedly changing the subject.

"The last ten years," Chuck corrected. "I was born here, but my father took off to Los Angeles before I was a year old, felt the Bass Industries offices in Hollywood needed a more hands on approach. Then he went international and Australia was the first stop. He moved us there just before I turned six."

"Still, no Aussie accent? The ladies would eat that up here, man."

"It was the American accent that drove them crazy in Sydney," Chuck told him. "I learned that at an early age when my au pair swooned over my 'adorable' little accent and flirted heavily with my father. I suspect she got further than flirting however. She didn't last too long as my au pair. I tried to develop an Aussie accent in the seventh grade. Needless to say, it wasn't my finest hour. Besides, I liked the unique quality my accent gave me."

"What brought your dad back to New York, then?" Nate continued. Chuck humored him.

"World headquarters are here and Bart Bass likes to be hands on. He spent a lot of time here on business trips and he's always had a bit of a soft spot for the city. He grew up here and has been wanting to get back for a while. He trained his brother to take over the Australia headquarters and here we are." Chuck spread his hands to indicate the city.

"Must be pretty different," Nate mused. "Sydney compared to New York." Chuck shrugged.

"It is what it is," he said. "May as well make the best of it. The scenery thus far has been – pleasant." His phone rang then. He answered it without looking at the ID. "Hello?"

"Charles, you were supposed to meet me in the lobby fifteen minutes ago," came his father's voice. Chuck grimaced.

"Sorry, I forgot. I'll be down in a minute."

"Not in a minute, now. These are very important clients, Charles. I cannot afford to lose out on this deal because my son is too busy attending to his own agenda." Bart hung up, leaving Chuck feeling slightly deflated.

"Sorry, Nathaniel, but we'll have to cut our high short. My father is dragging me to a business meeting with him and I was supposed to meet him fifteen minutes ago," Chuck said as he stood and started towards his closet. He would have to change clothes to mask the marijuana smell, dose his eyes with drops to clear them up as best he could.

"No problem. I'll see you at school tomorrow," Nate said, standing. "It's got to be pretty cool, having dinner with you dad who just happens to be Bart Bass. That man is a legend in the business world. My dad is dying to network with him."

"Yeah, being Bart Bass' son is a real riot," Chuck said, his voice laced with bitterness. Nate let himself out of the suite while Chuck changed, his sex escapades from the afternoon now a distant memory and his high wearing off far faster than it had come on as he dressed for dinner.

He was starving. The munchies had set in long ago, but he had refrained as best he could from eating everything on the table to keep up appearances. Riding back to The Palace in the limo with his father, all he could think about was getting a couple of greasy burgers and a batch of fries as soon as possible.

"Charles, if you're serious about learning the ropes of my company, I expect you to show some responsibility." Chuck sighed. This was the lecture he had been waiting for ever since he received the phone call that he was late.

"I apologized to your clients for our being late," he said. "I took responsibility for my actions."

"Don't be smart with me, Charles. You know full well what I'm talking about."

"We could have quite a conversation about responsibilities if this is the route you want to take," Chuck muttered.

"I heard you."

"Meant for you to."

"Charles, enough," Bart snapped in a dangerous voice. "I'm a single parent and CEO of one of the biggest real estate development companies in the world. You know I can't be at every school play and Little League game."

"Which would explain why I've never been in a school play or played Little League."

"Do you want to play Little League, Charles?" Bart asked, his patience wearing thin. "Do you want me to buy your way onto a team of twelve year olds?"

"It's a metaphor," Chuck replied.

"I'm surprised you know anything about those, given your poor performance in school. Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you accepted to St. Jude's?"

"Don't go thinking you did me any favors," Chuck replied. "I don't fit in there."

"You don't fit in anywhere, Charles. You're a Bass. Bass men aren't meant to fit in."

Chuck didn't bother forming a reply. He had a similar argument with his father at least once a week to no avail. He was used to being a disappointment and to being disappointed. He was used to having his faults tossed around before him. That didn't mean it bothered him any less.

The thing was, he was truly interested in his father's business. He liked it. He liked the bargaining and dealing that took place when buying a property. He liked the seeking out of sites and constructing a brand new hotel or high rise, then making it into a success. He liked the power, the swagger, that came with being a high profile businessman. His father, however, didn't seem to realize that.

He had thought – maybe hoped – that his father would change when they made New York their new permanent residence. He should have known better. Maybe if they had chosen another city, Chicago or even LA again, things would have been different, even if slightly. But not in New York. New York was practically a living scrapbook of Bart Bass's life, both the pleasant and unpleasant parts. Chuck had been foolish to even consider the possibility that Bart would take him under his wing, treat him as an equal, as a proper heir to the Bass throne.

The limo rolled to a stop in front of The Palace. Bart exited the limo quickly, but stopped on the sidewalk. Chuck followed more slowly.

"Friday night, Eleanor Waldorf is hosting a gathering in my honor at her penthouse, a meet and greet of sorts. It starts promptly at seven. We will leave here twenty minutes before. You will not be a moment late. Do you understand?" Bart asked him.

"Yes, sir," Chuck answered.

"Don't disappoint me," Bart warned before heading inside.

"Too late," Chuck muttered under his breath. He turned back to the limo driver who awaiting further instructions and clearly hoping his day was done. "Arthur, take me to the nearest burger joint," he ordered, sliding back inside. He rested his head on the seat and returned to imagining the basket of food he would consume as Arthur navigated the streets of New York.

Spotted: Papa Bass giving Baby Bass a stern talking to outside The Palace. Wonder what C did this time? Rumor has it, the loosest red head in the junior class. Better head to the clinic and get yourself checked, C. You know you love me, XOXO – Gossip Girl.

I've already got the next couple of updates ready to go. I really like the next one. These first three updates are getting the backstory in place. This one was letting you into Chuck's world. The next one will let you know a little about Blair – and some more about Chuck too. :)