A/N: So this is a future fic, obviously Chair. If any of you have ever seen Almost Famous, I basically got all of my ideas from that because Penny Lane and Russel's secret, not so secret affair reminded me of Chuck and Blair as well as Jeff and Leslie, a little bit. Its told from the perspective from an unknown narrator. The point is you never find out who it is, the name, or even gender. Its just the otuside perspective about the CHuck and Blair relationship (I guess basically me, but whatever.) Its also supposed to be short. It has short installments and also, everything is really frank and to the point. This will be a three-shot so I hope you like it because I will be continuing it. I don't know if this is obvious, but I never have a beta, so sorry for all the grammatical and spelling mistakes.

Summary: Blair had her back turned and when she came back to us, her dark eyes met Chuck's auburn ones. That should have been the first sign, when they stared deeply into each others eyes for what seemed like eons. Then something like mischief flickered across Chuck's face as he took her hand and put it to his lips

Disclaimer:I don't own Gossip Girl, Chuck, Blair, or Almost Famous.

I met Blair Waldorf first. I had heard how much of a bitch she was and I had witnessed that on my own account. But I had also witnessed something else that I couldn't name. Because that was also the night that I met Chuck Bass for the first time. Both different and unique souls but when they saw each other, there was something there that I couldn't explain.

I was under the impression that they had never met before.

"Chuck," I said at the garden party. It was growing late in the afternoon and the sun was just setting over the horizon. "This is Blair Waldorf. Blair, this is Chuck Bass."

Blair had her back turned and when she came back to us, her dark eyes met Chuck's auburn ones. That should have been the first sign, when they stared deeply into each others eyes for what seemed like eons. Then something like mischief flickered across Chuck's face as he took her hand and put it to his lips.


I was aware that Chuck could be quite the womanizer, but it seemed different when he tenderly brushed a stray lock of dark hair away from her eyes.

"Have we..." Blair stared, looking mischievous herself, "met before?" Chuck just turned his head, his eyes glinting. I was totally and utterly confused. They still hadn't let go of each others hand. It was a little eerie how their smirks were matching.

I had always liked Chuck Bass. Everyone was always critical about the way he lived his life, but when you actually talked to him, he wasn't like that at all. Blair seemed to notice that about him too.

"Hey," he said outside where his limo was parked. He seemed a little out of it, but I just took that to be the copious amounts of scotch he seemed to ingest.

"Everyone's heading to the Hamptons. You should come."

I nodded eagerly. I was new to the city. I had heard that outsiders were generally not accepted on the Upper East Side, but maybe that was just regarding people from Brooklyn. And I suppose it didn't hurt that my family owned half of San Francisco.

"And..." he said a little hesitantly (weird), "tell your friend ...Blair Waldorf to call me. It won't be the Hamptons without her and I want her around like last summer."

I nodded again, trying to remember all of the information. I didn't ponder until later what it all meant. That was the second red flag. But honestly, Manhattan was a little overwhelming. I had never met people like Blair and Chuck before.

"Blair," I called as I saw her striding through the crowd after he left. She hesitated outside. "You just missed Chuck." She nodded slowly, silently telling me to continue." He said he was heading to the Hamptons and that he wanted you to call him."

There was that weird smirk again.

"So..." I said casually as she reached her own limo. "How well do you know each other."

Blair stared at me steadily, smile never leaving her lips. She never answered as her limo drove away.

I had never been to the Hamptons. It was pretty much like Manhattan except for beaches. There were clubs and giant townhouses. But being with these people was just glamorous, wherever they went. And I loved it.

"So..." I said as Blair took me there in her limo. "You and Chuck..."

"No," she said hastily. "I'm engaged."

And that was that. But just because someone was almost married didn't mean that they weren't madly in love with someone else. Besides. Almost married wasn't married. Especially not on the Upper East Side. Even married wasn't married on the Upper East Side.

Blair opened the doors to the massive party at the van der Woodsen's townhouse and everything seemed to stop for her. The occupants of the party all looked to see the magnificent Blair Waldorf enter the room. I couldn't help but notice Chuck Bass's eyes particularly captivated by her.

"B!" came a girlish scream.

"Yes, its me," Blair sighed.

She then turned and let out a girlish scream at the sight of a mane of blond hair that came catapulting towards her. They were caught in a huge embrace, laughing.

"I need a drink," Blair sighed and left me awkwardly next to the goddess Serena Archibald.

"Hi," she said warmly. I stuttered a hello and she laughed.

"You've come to see the show?"

"What?" I asked in confusion. Serena nodded towards the bar where Blair was sipping a gin martini and across the room, Chuck was mimicking her actions with a scotch, still not looking away from her.

"It goes like this," Serena articulated frankly. "Its been this way since we were 16. Tale as old as time. You can divide the night up into sections.

"1. She pretends that she doesn't care about him. Notice her diligently ignoring him. Like that will last for long.

"2. He pretends he doesn't care but since he is of course Chuck Bass--" Serena rolled her eyes "--he goes right for her."

Chuck was still staring at her. True to Serena's predictions, Blair's eyes shifted across the room and they met in a steady haze.

"3," Serena continued, "where everything pans out like she schemed in the first place."

My eyes narrowed and Serena noticed.

"You do know why you're here, don't you?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You're her excuse. She can't be here of her own free will. Then he wins."

"What?" I asked again in confusion. Serena rolled her eyes.

"I have absolutely no idea. They've always played these games since they were teenagers."

"So they're..."

"Undefined," Serena shrugged. "Even when they were together they never labeled it. But it was obvious."

"What was?" I asked.

"They are desperately and passionately in love and nothing will ever stop that."

"But Blair said she was getting married."

"Yeah... For about the 4th time" Serena said disapprovingly. "You should have seen him when he found out, though. He never let anyone see but there was a reason why Eric had to drag him out of a bar at 3 in the morning for a month," Serena said, nodding towards her brother next to Chuck.

I looked out just to see Blair retreat to the balcony. "Fresh air" apparently. Well, it seemed like Chuck miraculously needed fresh air at the exact same moment because he quickly followed in pursuit. A couple people rolled their eyes like they were expecting it, but the rest didn't seem to take notice. It was like it was just a lifestyle. Apparently so were Chuck and Blair.

I didn't hear what he was saying but I could see her expression through the glass door that led to the terrace. She was captivated and obviously falling hard and fast for his charms. I almost wanted to stop him, but then I realized something was different than his usual reputation. I had to comprehend that this wasn't just any girl. This was Blair and this was Chuck. It wasn't like I really knew them, but they both had this aura like this was just how things were.

So all I could do was stare, mesmerized as Chuck took a quick stepped forward as he pressed her harshly against the railing in a desperate lip lock. I felt weird watching the two make out but there was something almost innocnet and pure about how hopless they were that I couldn't stop.