Well, I've been arguing with my muse all week, and my teachers. The PSAT is tomorrow, so I should probably be practicing for it. But I'm not. I'm writing this, for you guys!
So, my new goal is to update every Friday. Which will be difficult, but I will try. Depends on how I'm feeling. So…
Dedicated to my reviewers. You give me warm, fuzzy feelings. Inside.
"Spotted: B and C having a showdown, downtown. What I wouldn't give to be a fly on that wall."
1x15: Desperately Seeking Serena
Chuck Bass was not having a good day.
First of all, getting dissed and dismissed by Blair Waldorf was not the greatest way to start his day. Second of all, the SATs meant that he had to keep a low profile while "Chuck Bass" took the SATs. Finally, he was forced to call the annoyingly moralistic boyfriend of his current drunk mess of an almost-stepsister while said drunk mess partied with her old friend.
And, to make it worse, his phone was now flashing a familiar number that meant he was about to be screamed at or rejected. Neither of which was a very pleasant prospect.
Delicately, as though it were a bomb that was about to go off any second, he pressed the "Talk" button.
"Chuck Bass." The voice of the pretty brunette bane of his existence was cold, emotionless. "Can you explain something to me?"
"Depends on what it is, Princess—" he started, but she interrupted.
"Please, explain to me why Serena Van der Woodsen suddenly morphed into a redhead." Chuck could imagine her, doe eyes and all, ticking off the points on her fingers. "Tell me why I keep getting calls from Cabbage Patch asking where Serena is, and tell me why Serena isn't picking up her phone. While you're at it, tell me how long you've known that Georgina was in town." She paused. "Oh, and open your door."
Groaning, Chuck shut his phone and opened the door. An irate pair of brown eyes stared at him from the other side, and Blair Waldorf marched in.
"Tell me everything," she ordered, hands on hips.
He proceeded to tell her everything, starting with the Prince of Belafort and ending with his call to the rather pathetic Dan Humphrey. She heard the story in silence, pursing her lips at points.
"…and I don't know where she is." He finished lamely.
There was a tense silence for a few moments, which was broken by the beeping of a cell phone. Blair instinctively pulled hers out and checked the screen and relief washed over her face.
"Hello, Dorota," she said, a ghost of a smile on her face, which quickly vanished as she listened.
"She is?" A pause. "No, just put her in the room." Another pause, longer now. "Then put her in my room." She bit her lip. "No, give her some aspirin." An attempt at a smile. "I'll be there soon."
She clicked the phone shut, and spinning, made for the door.
Only to run into a not-completely-sober Chuck Bass who swayed backwards before losing his balance entirely and falling, taking Blair with him.
As the extremely brassed brunette was straddling him, Chuck did the stupidest thing he could have done at the moment.
He kissed her.
It felt like forever and no time at all—looking back, he understands that he had it bad—before he felt the surprising—though not entirely unexpected—slap.
In the blink of an eye—that girl could move fast—she was up and out the door, but not before he caught a look of her furiously blushing face.
Cheek stinging, Chuck poured himself another drink, smiling.
Chuck Bass was having a good day.
Outside, the brunette in question pressed a hand to her lips, thoughtfully looking up towards one of the windows of the building.
Smiling, she lifted a hand, hailing one of the many cabs that patrolled the streets.
Blair Waldorf was having a good day.
Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Musings?
See you on the reviews page!