A/N: Just to start off, so no one gets mad at me, or thinks I'm plagerizing or any of that, yes, this entire story has been taken from the movie Reality Bites. Since its summer, I am seriously lacking in ideas and seriously bored, so this was created. I've been writing Chair adaptions to movies and this is the first one. So if anyone has seen the (amazingly awesome) movie you will obviously see some major similarities. But obviously I had to adapt it to Gossip Girl, so there will be some differences. I love the movie, just to be clear, and am in no way trying to dephile it.

Sigh.

So there it is. I hope you enjoy it.

I'm actually not sure if I will continue it, even if I have already finished it. Just tell me what you think. The first chapter is a little long, but that's only to get the story going. They'll probably be shorter if the story continues.

Summary:

"I was competely wasted, Bass," Blair cut him off.

"Yeah, lucky I was such a gentleman," Chuck smirked.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or Reality Bites. All rights go to their respective artists.


Graduation was a milestone. It was the four of them together again. They were all friends, despite the fact that they had all slept with each other at one point or another. Mostly.

There weren't any attachments like that anymore. They were all just really good friends, drinking on top of the penthouses, in their limos, and at the clubs. They were free even though society had ensnared them all. But they had each other.

"Hey, Bass," Blair laughed. He liked her when she was tipsy. "I brought you back a souvenir." Blair handed Chuck the tassel from her graduation cap. Nate laughed. He was stoned. Serena was busy knocking back some Petrone.

"You're hilarious, Waldorf," Chuck took it from her.

"Your own fault, man," Nate shrugged. "You could have gone to college."

"And then I could have hung this on the rearview mirror of my limo for the rest of my life," Chuck said, looking over the ledge of the building. "Sorry. I'd rather be a distgustingly wealthy billionaire." He flung the tassel over the edge. "And not a frisky college student on the night of November 25, 200..."

"I was competely wasted, Bass," Blair cut him off.

"Yeah, lucky I was such a gentleman," Chuck smirked.

"That's just what you tell yourself when you take advantage of drunk high school girls," Blair bit back.

"If it works," he shrugged, knocking back a bottle of Jack.


Chuck yawned as that blonde insisted on giving him her phone number as he walked out of her house. Blondes were boring.

Actually, everyone was boring, come to think of it. They didn't have the spark or the fire that he so desperately craved. The spark or the fire that he had only once and never got over. But that was done now. They were at a good place and he couldn't ruin it with fantasies of the past. Not this time.

As he descended the steps, away from another night with a faceless woman, he tossed away her number, immediately to be forgotten like so many others.


Blair's father had given her a BMW when she graduated. Supposedly for all those years of absence. Whatever. This meant she actually had to learn how to drive instead of using car service. Chuck was working all the time and she couldn't just steal his limo. She could have her own but everyone just used the Bass limo anyway, it seemed sort of pointless.

Blair could walk everywhere, but for her, she actually found driving liberating. So she and Serena coasted down the street singing to some song she couldn't remember on the radio. Serena lit up.

"Gross, S. Can you not smoke that in here? I don't even know why you have to at all."

"What's the big deal?" Serena rolled her eyes. "You slept with Chuck for 3 years. You must be used to it."

"That was just pot," Blair corrected. "And I don't want you defiling the leather interior with your fumes."

"Because we all know how much you love leather interiors," Serena muttered.

"What was that?" Blair snapped. Serena just grinned.

"Nothing."

"What is that?" Blair laughed at Serena's terrible dance moves.

"I've got moves," Serena said simply.

"Yeah," Blair retorted. "When you're drunk. Sober Serena and dancing just do not mix."

"Shut up," Serena smiled.

Things were just so much more drama free now. They were all out of school and basically doing whatever they wanted. Serena basically didn't work. She didn't have to. Her inheritance from her mother's multiple divorces sustained her. And now that her biological father was back in her life, she had a little extra money there too.

Blair worked for her mother's company but could come and go as she pleased. She usually just spent time with Serena. It was the boys who were really the only ones who took their jobs seriously.

Chuck took over his father's company so this was his way of making him proud beyond the grave. He was a workaholic.

Nate was pushed into a high paying career by his mother. He wasn't exactly thrilled that he had to give up pot, but at least he and Chuck actually had something in common instead of in high school when Chuck was bedding everyone in sight and Nate was just lost.

The girls were completely unaware of a business man listening to gangster rap pulling up behind them. Blair was a seriously inexperienced driver. He really didn't pull up behind them. She cut him off while singing to the radio, completely unaware of her surroundings while Serena puffed on a cigarette.

Blair looked out the window at the intersection when he pulled up beside her on his car phone. He was obviously in the middle of some huge business deal, arguing angrily into the phone. He had a huge road map pulled over the steering wheel while talking. He was an obvious tourist.

Blair looked over at Serena and they both burst into laughter. It was a humor only New York natives could understand. As Chuck would say, that was what hiring car services were for. Actually, Blair said that too.

He didn't notice the light had turned green and Blair and Serena both laughed again while pulling away. Serena flicked her cigarette out the window. Too bad it landed in the business man's topless car. The upholstery started smoking. He yelled as he swerved and hit the car behind Blair.

Serena whirled around in her seat, eyes wide.

"Damn."


"You're suing me?" Blair asked in exasperation. She followed Michael, the business man, into his office.

"I don't really want to," he told her. "My company just said something about publicity and..."

"Wait, this is because of my name?" Blair asked.

"Your name?" Michael echoed. He obviously had no idea who she was. He really was a tourist.

"Listen, I can't get sued. My mother would crucify me if she found out I was driving a car, let alone caused and accident..."

"How old are you?" Michael asked in interest.

"I'm 23," Blair waved him off, "but I work for my mother's company and she's realy controlling and..."

"She won't let you drive?" Michael asked.

"Well that's what drivers are for," she smiled at his innocence. "I can get my lawyers and they can meet your company and make all of this go away. Just please... I don't want my mother involved in this. She hates me alrady."

"I don't think that's true," Michale disagreed, finding it difficult to believe anyone could hate a girl who was so precious. "You hsve your own team of lawyers?" he asked suddenly. Blair nodded.

"They were originally only in case I got spotted un clubs underage or something like that, but in theory I could use them for this. They get paid so much, they'll do whatever I ask them too."

"What's your job?" Michael asked, intrigued again. He found it difficult to believe, that someone who had just gotten out of college could basically afford anything their hearts desired.

"I'm a consultant for my mother's fashion company," Blair stated.

"Have I heard of it?" he asked.

"Probably," Blair said smugly. "Eleanor Waldorf Designs."

"So you're..." Michale prompted.

"Blair Waldorf," Blair said obviously. She couldn't believe she forgot to tell him her last name. Had society taught her nothing?

"So you're like a socialite?" She didn't seem like one. She was very well mannered for a girl who would potentially go clubbing and sleep with shipping heirs.

"God, no," Blair laughed. "Waldorfs aren't socialites. Van der Woodsen's on the other hand..." Blair rolled her eyes.

"Listen," Michael said. "We don't have to bring anything legal into this. Technically it wasn't your fault. You were just driving."

"Yes," she said in relief. "I am so sorry. I was telling Serena that she shouldn't be smoking and..."

"It's fine," he smiled. She liked that smile. It was truthful.


"You're going out with the guy who you made get in an accident?" Serena asked skeptically as they pushed through the glass doors of the hotel that they lived in (that Chuck happened to own.)

"First of all," Blair said, "you were the one who made him crash his car. I told you not to smoke. And second of all... yes." Serena just laughed it off. That was the type of person she was.

Blair opened the door to their suite to see Chuck and Nate walking out with slight pleasantries. Blair eyed them strangely.

"Oh my god, I'm such a flake," Serena said in realization.

"What..." Blair asked, not liking where this was going.

"I forgot to tell you someting."

"No," Blair gasped.

"Blair..." Serena said, knowing her best friend was about to overreact.

"He owns the hotel, Serena," Blair said, not sure why she was so against the idea. "He owns hundreds all over the world. Why does Chuck need to stay with us?"

It never ceased to amazing Serena how Blair just knew things. She saw Chuck and immediately knew the problems he was about to cause. Or maybe she just knew him.

"It'll be fine," Serena negated. "We'll have a man around us to protect us."

"Serena," Blair said dangerously. "We live in a hotel. We have hired bodyguards. And you're saying we'll have protection from a guy who coordinates his socks to his shirts!"

"Relax, kittens," Chuck said smoothly as Nate brought in his stuff. Chuck Bass didn't do any hard labor. "I'll just crash on the couch."

"Chuck, you're a billionaire. Why do you need to stay with us?"

"Let me remind you princess," Chuck sneered, "that this is my hotel. I'm the one who lets you live here. This is technically my house. I can do whatever I want."

"Which means you could have easily got another room--"

"Due to some extenuating circumstances," Chuck cut her off, "I was forced to leave my penthouse."

"Why?"

"I don't have to answer that," Chuck said evasively.

"You got evicted?" Blair asked incredulously.

"Define 'evicted.'"

Blair gave him a scowl that only she and Chuck would understand.

"How could you possibly get evicted when you own the building?" Blair asked harshly

"Some..." Chuck coughed awkwardly, "... legal matters--"

"What did you do?"

"Blair," Nate said warningly. In a matter of minutes, this could turn into a full scale war.

"So you were there?" Blair rounded on him.

Nate looked downcast.

"Waldorf," Chuck sighed. "My personal matters are exactly that. Mine."

"So when did the cops come and pick up the hookers?" Blair asked lightly.

Chuck scowled at her. How did she always know?

"Irrelevent."

Blair smirked in triumph.

"Then why do you have to stay here? You could go anywhere. Another hotel, another penthouse," Blair stressed. "You are Chuck Bass, after all."

"As much as I agree with you, Waldorf," Chuck said, collapsing on the couch as though he actually had to carry his own things up, "this was my place first. You live here because I let you live here."

"Oh, I feel so blessed," Blair said with unnecesary sarcasm.

"I'm not leaving, Waldorf," Chuck smirked. She knew very well that she really had no right to complain when in fact, he did own the place, but he had no right to just come in unannounced.

"You're lazy," Blair deadpanned.

"Well," Chuck said as though he were about to take offence. "Yes, actually, that's true."

Blair rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," Serena said in exasperation, glad that the fight had seemed to cease. "It's fine. Just stay."

Needless to say, Serena was worried. It seemed better for both of them that they didn't live in such a close proximity. It was when they got together and the insults started flying that there was reason for panic. It was the problem of their spark. Whenever things got fiery, things got physical. Fast. She didn't want to see her best friend going down this path again. She knew that those two just couldn't help themselves but she didn't want to see it end up like it did last time.

"Relax, Waldorf," Chuck smirked. "You won't even know I'm here." Blair knew differently. If she knew CHuck Bass (which she did, better than everyone) he would be bringing women at all hours of the night. Stupid, dangerously good looking womanizer.