chapter THREE.

Chuck Bass slid out of the cream-colored leather couch that filled up most of his suite's living room center and stood up, dusting off the pair of neat gray slacks that adorned his long legs. He walked over to his private bar and filled the crystal tumbler he'd been grasping with Vodka. The glass bottle of pure liquor was nearly empty now, and he'd only gotten it yesterday.

His dark brown hair was mussed and out of place, but even as he sat at the bar and glanced at his reflection in the mirror, he didn't seem to care all that much. Lately, all he'd really been doing was pondering on his future relationship with Nate and his past relationship with Blair.

Chuck knew he hurt her in a major way. And he knew his actions would reap seriously negative reprocussions. But Blair had just seemed so happy with Nate and upset with Chuck that he'd cracked. It hadn't really felt like he'd betrayed her, really; more like she'd forced his hand in doing so. He still wanted Blair -- in fact, he was pretty sure he needed her -- but it seemed like he was her last resort these days. That she only came to him in her time of need and when she was yearning for a shoulder to cry on.

And as much as he wanted to run over to Blair's penthouse, sweep her into his arms, apologize with more honesty than he's ever mustered before, and pull her face into a tender-yet-hungry kiss, Chuck didn't really feel like he could just sit around waiting for her to come to her senses and realize she loved him too. Basses weren't supposed to wait around; people were supposed to wait for them.

His sleek black Motorola buzzed wildly from where it sat on the bar's countertop and Chuck lunged for it. "Hello?" His voice came out cracked and unpracticed, as if he'd slept for years and hadn't opened his mouth until that very second. There was a ghastly silence on the other end and Chuck held his breath, secretly hoping it was Nate calling to take back what he said or Blair to apologize for her rash decisions as of late.

But instead, the person Chuck least wanted to hear spoke through his mouthpiece: "Son!" Bartholemew Bass's gruff tone of voice pierced through the phone's earpiece. Chuck held the mechanism a few extra inches away from his ear. "Your stepmother and I are coming back tomorrow morning. Just thought I'd let you know. Now at least you've got some time to hide away that girl you got pregnant!" Bart laughed at his own rather vulgar joke, but Chuck thought his father was being serious and perhaps he somehow knew about Blair's pregnancy scare, so he remained silent.

"Anyway, I'll talk to you soon, Charles."

Almost immediately, their conversation was ceased with a hollow click and Chuck rolled his eyes with annoyance. He tried to hurry up and hit 'End', hoping that by pressing the button all memories of his pervertedly egocentric father would somehow be wiped from his memory. . . In his raged daze, however, Chuck accidentally hit more than one button and when his dark brown eyes slid over the phone's screen, he realized the photo album had been accessed.

And once he looked, he couldn't stop looking.

Scrolling through the album, he spotted several pictures of he, Nate, Blair, and Serena as they stood outside The Palace hotel, the four of them laughing and hugging eachother like the best friends that they were. . . Back then.

Swallowing hard, he clicked on one particular photo of just him and Blair together. This was back when they were still in the 'friend zone'. They were both laughing hysterically for whatever reason, Blair pretending to strangle Chuck with his signature scarf. Chuck sighed and gulped down the rest of his drink, not being able to pry his eyes away from the picture.

He missed the way things were back then. So easy and friendly and right. . . And now it seemed as if there was this big rift between the four of them. That no matter what anyone did or said, nothing would ever be like the way it was. . .


Spotted: Chuck Bass reminiscing over the past. . . We've all been there, C. But I really hope you'll come OUT of there as well. At least eventually. The sooner you get over the past, the sooner we can all focus on the future. . . And the future's always more juicy, is it not?

you know you love me.
xoxo; gossip girl