A/N: So I confused myself with this new system of writing that I've been doing but I haven't forgotten about Nostalgia! Never. So here's the next chapter.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Quotes belong to Gossip Girl as well as characters and pretty much everything else. Thanks so much to Kasey for being my beta

Gone

So you have no idea where he is?

Well Charles didn't exactly leave town on good terms and even when he does, he finds it best not to tell us where he's going. For our own sakes.

The note was crumpled up in the bottom drawer of her vanity.

Or she would have liked it to have been crumpled. Truth be told, it was buried underneath tons of useless objects that she made sure she would never need. But the note was as straight and flat as ever. And in the darkness, when all her resolve was sapped by the day, she would dig through the drawer and stare at the distinctive penmanship.

And she knew that he was truly gone. Not just in the way that she would muse about during the day, thinking of all the other times he had dissipated, but in the more permanent way—that he might never be coming back.

Nate was wrapped up in his romance across the bridge, Serena had abandoned her for her flickering flame and she felt just as hopeless as she had the previous year.

But it was worse this time. This time, she knew she loved him.

And what was the point in that?

"She won't even leave her room. Cyrus told me that he just fled even after she told him—"

Blair hadn't expected her mother to be having company so late in the evening. Especially when she thought she would be alone.

Instead Blair walked in on her having tea with Lily van der Woodsen. She was sure she had retained her maiden name by now.

"Mother," Blair said as she stepped into the living room, wiping away the humiliation that she was sure the entire Upper East Side was aware of by now.

"Darling," Eleanor said without losing composure. "I wasn't sure you'd be… up an about."

It was everything that her mother didn't say, and Blair knew that from her mother's words, the entire neighborhood considered her a leper by now.

Instead, Lily only greeted her with the most gracious of words.

"Blair. It's so good to see you."

"Mother, I thought you were out tonight," Blair said instead, ignoring her graces.

"We decided to have a nice, quiet gathering—"

Blair didn't bother staying to listen to the rest. She just walked into the kitchen as her mother trailed off. She didn't want to hear what she was sure would be more embarrassing excuses on her behalf.

She heard footsteps follow her and was about to snap at her mother, but instead came face to face with Lily. She was smiling at her and Blair couldn't help but cringe at the thought of her appearance. She hadn't worn make-up in two weeks and was sure her outfit was less than befitting.

"It really is good to see you."

"You said," Blair returned shortly. She watched Lily's studious eyes. She didn't blame her. When she looked in the mirror, Blair couldn't recognize herself either.

"I'm sorry," Blair finally said in apology, collapsing into a chair. She willed her eyes not to give up in emotion, but Lily sat be her side, putting a comforting hand on her arm.

"Your mother said—"

"Something she had no right," Blair said sternly. But she felt it coming. She hated her weakness. And she hated him. He was the only one who could make her cry like this. Especially when she didn't want to.

She knew he wasn't reclining on whatever polygamous island he was on and feeling regret over her. She knew she had to forget him. She knew she had to shut him from her mind, but all she could feel was heartache. All she could do was love him, even after everything he did to her.

It wouldn't have surprised her if it were because of everything she did. She knew she had to be some sort of masochist.

"I was hoping you heard from him."

"Why would he do that?" Blair asked. "He's gone."

"Not forever," Lily said. "You know he grieves in his own way. And he can't stay away."

"I think it's very easy for him to stay away," Blair said coldly.

"It isn't," Lily said. "It's easy for you to turn cold, but you can't. Not when he needs you now more than ever. Especially with the way he feels about you."

"He doesn't." Blair had always been cold and hard. She was just returning to form. It was him that had made her feel something. And she couldn't let it anymore.

But Lily just smiled.

"You know he does. He wouldn't be doing what he's doing. He's trying to protect you."

"That's his excuse," Blair replied curtly. "Men don't tell you that you're too good for them. Men don't think that way."

"He said that to you?"

Blair knew she had walked into that trap and just turned her head away.

"Besides," Lily said. "You're far too young to think that way. He'll come back. He doesn't tell us where he's going so we won't worry."

"You think he cares anything about you?" Blair finally snapped. "He hates you. More than he's apathetic to me. He wants nothing to do with you."

All she wanted was to destroy everything like she had been destroyed. But Lily didn't give her the satisfaction. All she did was smooth her hair like a mother to a daughter.

"I'll check back in on you."

"Why?" Blair couldn't help but ask in exasperation.

"Because you're his family. And as much as he denies it, I will always be his."

"He's not worth your time."

She hated Lily for never faltering.

"The fact that you say that means you feel the opposite," Lily said. "He'll come back to you. He has to."

Blair hated all the faith that Lily had.

All she could do was sit in the emotional wreckage he had made for her.

Summer

She's a friend of a friend.

Well, what kind of friend is that?

The kind that leaves me his little black book for the summer.

That night, Nate had taken to wondering the streets. He didn't want to find himself alone in the penthouse—for that entire week, actually.

But when he finally found himself in that familiar elevator, he wished he had come sooner.

It didn't take long for him to find his best friend and immediately he was wracked with guilt. Just from the sight of him, Nate knew Chuck had been through more than Nate had realized.

There wasn't a question.

Though there was no doubt they had been through some disagreements since moving into the penthouse, Nate could never deny his best friend.

From his heap on the bathroom floor, Chuck looked up at him, his eyes glazed over. To Nate's recollection, he was wearing the same suit he had been six days ago. Now it was covered in alcohol, narcotics and only God knew what else.

He didn't hesitate.

"Come on," Nate sighed, immediately bending down next to Chuck. He looped his friend's arm over his shoulders and hoisted him up. A deep groan emanated from the back of the boy's throat but Nate knew him well enough to know he held his liquor.

He wasn't afraid of Chuck boiling over.

He walked him over to the bed and dumped him clumsily on it.

Blair had always been better at this—but as soon as the thought entered Nate's mind, he brushed it off. He should have come sooner. He should have realized what had happened. And he should remember to stop thinking about her like she was still here.

"Why are you even bothering?"

Nate was halfway out of the bedroom when he heard it. It could have been in Chuck's sleep, but Nate stopped anyway. He turned around to see dark eyes shining at him in the blackness.

"You're my best friend."

It was the best explanation there was. It was all there was.

"She's not coming back." Chuck's voice was even softer than it had been before.

Nate wondered if he was slipping off to sleep. But he knew his best friend better than that. He knew the masochistic insomniac could never allow himself the comfort of sleep.

"Well I am," Nate said. "No matter what. Even though you might think differently."

"I don't deserve it," he said, still quiet. "You said just as much yourself."

"Maybe," Nate said. "But you were right too."

"Best friends don't mean much after what I did."

"Go to sleep, Chuck."

He didn't care. Because they were both right.

It was the next day when Chuck was roused and clean in a different suit, though still heavily intoxicated. Suitcases were in the foyer and Chuck was incoherently instructing Arthur on the phone. Then again, he could understand every dialect since Chuck was thirteen.

"Going somewhere?"

"As far as I can," Chuck answered. His eyes had a hint of clarity, but not as much as Nate would have liked.

But there wasn't anything more that he could say. Both of them knew that.

"Don't look so downcast, Nathaniel," Chuck said. "I'm leaving you a parting gift."

Nate looked at him in surprise as Chuck slid him the little black book. It was a thing of infamy and Nate never thought he would be able to see it with his own eyes.

"You're kidding."

"Not about this."

It finally occurred to Nate.

"Where are you going?"

Chuck's eyes became clouded again.

"If this is about Bl—"

"I'm leaving," Chuck said definitively. "Enjoy your gift. We'll see if you can get through the T's by the end of the summer."

Nate reluctantly took the book in his hands.

"But it's just for the summer, right?" Nate didn't want to see Chuck's expression. He knew what the answer was before he even asked it.

But he had to ask it.

He felt his best friend's eyes on him, dark, but without anything familiar in them. Just nothingness.

"Of course."

Chuck's voice was dead and apathetic.

Nate could never influence him, especially when it came to the only girl that could ever resort him to nothing. But he wished that for once, he could believe his best friend's lies.

He wished he could believe that he was coming back.