Moon River

Moon River, wider than a mile,
I’m crossing you in style some day.

He feels nothing but betrayal as he watches his best friend twirl the girl he wants more than anything else around the floor of the Grand Ballroom within the walls of the hotel Chuck himself spends most of his time in. He doesn’t envy Nathaniel Archibald. He doesn’t despite her. He only wishes that he had acted on his impulses long before it got to the point where their fucking engagement was practically set in stone.

He sinks into a chair on the outskirts of the dance floor, watching the way her metallic colored dress shines under the dim glow of the chandeliers. He takes note of the way Nate looks at her like she’s the only girl in the room, even though this is a Debutante ball and there’s beautiful girls scattered all around the room. He pulls his arm tighter around her waist and whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh quietly. It makes Chuck want to vomit.

The song slows to a stop and he watches the way she leans forward to leave a gentle kiss on his cheek, then as they merely share a hug before pulling apart and moving their separate ways. Her way, however, happens to be right towards Chuck.

She stands in front of him, her tiny hands poised on her hips, with as much attitude as her petite form can muster. “Were you ever planning on asking me to dance, Bass?”

His confusion shows as he stands up from the chair, his fingers intertwining with hers as she pulls him towards the dance floor. When they finally come to a stand still and he wraps his arms around her waist, he speaks to her in a soft tone for only him to hear. “Aren’t you supposed to dancing with your white knight?”

She shakes her head, a smile lighting up her entire face as she speaks to Chuck. Her eyes lock on his and they never stray once to Nate, even though he can feel them burning into the back of his head as the song continues on. “I told you, Chuck, we’re only here as friends. We’re over for good.” After another moment, she leans forward and whispers words that are meant for his ears alone. “I’m ready to start something new.”

She pulls back a minute later and acts as if she hasn’t just changed your life with eight syllables. “I love this song,” she sighs aloud as she lays her head down on his shoulder. It’s Moon River from her favorite movie, Breakfast at Tiffany’s. He vows to himself that he will always remember this song.

Two drifters off to see the world.
There’s such a lot of world to see.

She giggles as aloud as she hears his tone of shock as he exits the bathroom. When he finally appears before her, his hair still tousled from sleep and his boxers twisted, she knows that she made the right decision to wait a year before deciding her future, whether it be Yale or anywhere else. All she needs to survive right now is him.

“Do you realize that there are tampons on my bathroom counter?” He says, his face never betraying just how surprised and disgusted he is to discover her feminine products in plain sight. She laughs harder as she slides off the bed and comes to stand before him, her arms wrapping instinctively around his waist.

“The last time I checked, this was the hotel’s bathroom. And if I’m moving in, I’m obviously going to need those.” She bites her bottom lip just slightly to keep from smiling as she watches him nod in response, the effect of her words not sinking in just yet.

“But is it really necessary for everyone who passes through there to see those?” He stares at her for a minute in anticipation, waiting for her to answer his question. And suddenly, his confusion melts away and she can’t help but laugh again as he looks at her with complete disbelief. “Did you just say that you’re moving in?”

She nods in silence, finally letting her soft smile shine through, and before she can say a word, his lips are on hers until it’s necessary for them to both pull apart to breathe. He rests his forehead against hers and closes his eyes. He doesn’t say anything sarcastic or try to make a joke.

He stays that way for a long while, and he never says anything to acknowledge how he feels about her change in address. She worries that he’s not happy, but she feels satisfied that she made the right decision when he begins to strip her of her clothing for the fourth time that morning.

What she doesn’t know is that he’ll be long gone before she’ll even have reason to open that damn box of tampons.

Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you’re going I’m going your way.

He finds her on a street corner in the pouring rain with big, fat, wet tears rolling down her porcelain cheeks. This isn’t how it was supposed to happen, the next time he sees her after escaping to Europe for four years to “study abroad”, but it’s the way it occurs all the same. She looks dazed and broken, like she really doesn’t know where she is at all. Her form is emaciated, her clothes hang off her form, and he knows in the back of his mind that Eleanor Waldorf would never approve of her daughter’s physical state for purely face-value reasons.

He stands there for a long time, the rain soaking his skin to the point where he feels he may never dry off again, but he stands there calling her name for a good twenty minutes straight. He loves the way it rolls off his tongue, the way it sounds to him. It fits her like a worn-in leather glove. It feels just as familiar to him as a childhood toy.

When she finally looks back at him, her eyes don’t hold their mischievous twinkle he remembers so well and her brunette curls have lost their luster. “What the hell are you doing out here, Waldorf? It’s fucking pouring.”

“Forgetting,” she responds with a monotone voice that doesn’t mask her pain, fear, or desperation. She looks away just as quickly, staring at a building across the street. He realizes for the first time that she’s shivering, and when he laces her fingers through his and tries to pull her towards a cab, she doesn’t move. He picks up her tiny form in her arms and sets her in the cab himself, all the while reassuring himself that he’s only doing this because not even Chuck Bass would let a girl die of hypothermia on a New York City street corner.

He searches her purse as she crumbles into the seat, her empty gaze never looking away from that solid brick building. He finds a business card with her address on it and a key to an apartment.

It’s not until he looks back that he realizes that the address is for an apartment within the walls of that tall brick building. As he turns away, he swears he catches a glimpse of golden blonde hair slipping inside.

We’re after the same rainbow’s end–
Waiting ’round the bend.

She sits on the windowsill inside of an unfamiliar apartment Chuck must have decided to purchase after returning from Paris and Italy, watching the raindrops continue to hit the windows. He lent her one of his dress shirts, and it’s just long enough to reach her knees. Her clothes, including her underwear are hanging on the side of the bathtub to dry, and she feels almost naked, being so close to him after so long. The shirt smells like him, the perfect mixture of his aftershave and the sweet scent of peppermint that always seemed to stay with him, and she’s trying to think of an excuse to take it with her.

Eventually, she hears the distinct sound of his footsteps as he comes back and sits down on the chair across from the window, but she doesn’t look in his direction. Her lone stare stays fixated on the busy streets so far below her. In a way, watching the chaos is calming for her. She feels like she just may be able to handle her life as long as it’s not as crazed as the traffic on a busy Saturday night. But when has control ever been plausible in her life.

“So, what has dear Nathaniel done this time?” Chuck finally speaks aloud, forcing her to look his way in awe. She wonders if her pain is that obvious that it could only be caused by that one person. He laughs a little, and she wants to wring his neck for finding humor in her confusion. He should be helping her, not hurting her more. “What, did you think I wouldn’t know that the prince was the one to screw you over like this? Come on, Waldorf. I know you better than anyone else.”

She looks back out the window, feeling a fresh wave of tears ebb their way towards the corners of her eyes before falling. “I got pregnant and Nate couldn’t handle it. So, he ran to Serena and slept with her for comfort.” It’s her turn to laugh a little out of disbelief now as she shakes her head at her own stupidity. “What’s that old saying? ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me?’ When I found out I confronted him, but you can’t reason with an Archibald. He told me it was my fault, slammed the door and took off.” She pauses here as she chokes on a sob, taking a minute to compose herself before venturing on. “That was three days ago.”

For the first time in his life, Chuck Bass is at a loss for words as he tries to fathom what the hell kind of thoughts were running through Nate’s head when he did this to his fiancée. Because that was what she was now, judging by the immense diamond on her left hand. He wants to kill Nate with his bare hands, then use those same hands to trace this beautiful girl’s curves and bring her some kind of comfort. But instead of voicing this, he keeps on a calm face as he merely nods and asks a simple question. “And the baby?”

She finally locks her gaze on his, pulling her knees closer to her chest for comfort. “I did what I always did. I needed some kind of semblance of control in my life, so I purged. And now… Now, I lost the baby. I went to his place to tell him, let him know that he was off the hook for good, but Serena was walking into the building, and I just stayed on the corner all day. Until you showed up, I didn’t even realize it was raining.” She moans to herself as she buries her head in her hands, feeling a warmth creep into her cheeks. “God, I’m so pathetic.”

“I told you Nathaniel was no Prince Charming.” That’s all he says. Of all the things he could say to her, of all the things he could do to hurt her, he throws that in her face. It infuriates her as she uncoils her body and gives him a cold, hard stare.

“Yeah, well neither are you. What the fuck were you thinking just walking out on me like that? You don’t just move on like that, Chuck. You at least say goodbye.” He doesn’t say anything to her as he stands up, leaving his half empty glass of scotch behind him before he goes. She almost hopes that this sudden disappearance on his part is from guilt, but she hears the shuffling of something in the back room and then he appears with a vinyl in hand. CDs were always too good for Chuck.

He puts it on, and she immediately recognizes the song. The soft melodic sounds and the sweet harmony bring her back to another time and another place when she was happier… with him. He speaks slowly at first, keeping his distance from her yet every so often taking a step closer. ” I didn’t move on. I listened to this song everyday to think of you. And I don’t do goodbyes. They’re too final and I didn’t want to think about never feeling those damn butterflies around you again. I planned on coming back to you, but telling you would be too hard. And I think we both regret things we’ve done in the past.”

She nods silently as she wipes a tear away, and when he holds out his arms towards her, she can’t help but laugh. “Well, Blair, are you planning on dancing with me at all tonight?”

She stands up from the window seat and lets him take her into his arms. She breaks down as he holds her, soaking his new, dry shirt through to his chest, but he doesn’t mind. He holds her tight as he sways to her favorite song from her favorite movie that he never forgot about. And he leans forward, whispering words for only her to hear. “I’m ready for a fresh start.”

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