A/N: Hey people! It's been so long hasn't it? Well I'm back to introduce my new series. This story has been growing and developing for over 2 YEARS now. It was my first fanfic idea EVER so it remains close to my heart! I would really appreciate if everyone would give this story a chance and leave a review on what you think about it. Good or bad. So let me take you back to season two, "Bonfire of the Vanity" episode...
Chapter 1: Bart's Dirty Little Secret
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Chuck Bass looked up from the book he'd been reading. Yes, Chuck Bass was reading. Leaning onto his left elbow on his king sized wrinkled bed, the classic Great Expectations was cracked open. Behind closed doors, many things happened with Chuck Bass, but reading was not one to be expected.
His bedroom door swung open revealing his father. Big Bart Bass stood in the doorway. He was dressed in his usual formal attire, an ebony shaded pinstripe business suit with a starched purple button down, and a horizontally tri-coloured black, white and purple striped tie. The colour suited his complexion- in the rare times he wore it.
"Can I come in?" His steely blue eyes didn't waver, his eyebrows permanently scrunched appearing to be in a permanent pain.
Chuck looked back to the printed letters in the book, afraid to make eye contact with his father. What did I do this time? He thought to himself.
"Can't stop you."
Bart took his response as a yes. He closed the door behind him before taking a few steps past the upholstered armchair and round oak coffee table. A bright red scarf was tossed carelessly on the armchair.
Bart stood in front of his son, the thoughts of Daniel Humphrey's short story filling his mind. He sighed.
Chuck kept his eyes glued to the text. He just starred at the letters, unable to spare a glance towards his father.
"I want to apologize son."
Chuck lifted his head, locking eyes with his father. Brown met with blue. What for?
"Apologize?" Chuck spat, feeling his hands clench. What was this all about?
"I never," Bart paused finding the words he needed to say, "Blamed you for your mother's death."
Chuck felt the words "mother," and "death," punch him in the stomach, like a boxing glove. But after piecing together what Bart announced, Chuck felt his hands unclench and his facial muscles relax.
"I read that short story that uh, Daniel Humphrey wrote about you and your mother." Bart looked down at the carpeted ground, noticing the dark brown turf has specs of gold in it.
Bart's icy eyes met with his son's. "I had no idea you felt that way." He admitted.
Chuck looked away and didn't have a comeback- a voice.
"It's my fault." Bart said. He raised his eyebrows before coming around the bed, closer to Chuck. He stuffed his hands in his pant pockets, looking at her-her picture. He sighed, and Chuck thought he saw a look of longing from his father as his eyes remain entranced by the photo.
"I know I've had… trouble being close to you, but it's not for the reasons you think." Bart sat down-closer to Chuck. In all the memories Chuck had with Bart, he'd never been this close to him. Maybe the alcohol had killed all his brain cells that held those memories. He couldn't be sure.
No matter how close he was to his father physically, he emotionally felt a glass wall built up between them. It stretched larger than the length and height of Chuck's bedroom.
"Because every time I look at you, I see her."
Chuck gazed over at his mother's picture. Misty. Her hazel eyes were slightly squinted facing the right of the photograph, exposing her long graceful neck. Her plump lips were parted ever so slightly, her flawless skin looking as soft as silk. Her dark tendrils was pulled back into a braided bun, her frame shaped nose, was perfectly portioned to her long, lean face.
"You miss her." Chuck stated.
"You have no idea." Bart's eyes squinted slightly.
"I've made some terrible mistakes in my life, but I don't want to make another." Bart looks to Chuck, who returns it. "I want to know my son."
Chuck just looked back and listened to his father continue, the glass wall between them slowly deteriorating. "So, are you interested in going to that hockey game?"
Chuck was taken off guard. "I'll-uh- clear my calendar." He smiles and for once Bart smiled back. Relief washed through Chuck like a huge tidal wave. His father actually cared. For once in his life, Chuck Bass felt affection from his father. His anger to him began to wane; and for once Bart was not disappointed in him. He wanted to spend time with him. It was enough to make any kid in his position smile. Happily.
The next morning, Chuck straightened his St. Judes maroon and gold striped tie before feeling his own black stretch limo, (full with a mini fridge and booze) pull to a halt. Chuck shuffled across the black and beveled leather seat and opened the door to be welcomed with a large swoosh of wind. He fought against the current-like wind and shut the door behind him, tugging his red scarf closer to his neck.
Chuck heard the wheels of the limo crunch over the coloured leaves encrusting them with mudded dirt. He didn't spare a glance at the limo and instead walked towards the school gates pondering if he wanted to wake and bake. As Chuck fingered his coat pocket in search of his stash another gust of wind whipped at his cheeks.
On second thought, maybe not, Chuck thought and marched on in, seeing a variety of new fall coloured coats and totes. The usual. Chuck pushed past a couple of freshman boys into the school.
Chuck lips curled into a smirk when he heard her voice. Her bitchiness towards others was always welcomed entertainment.
"Now go! Shoo!" Blair swatted away one of her minions like a pestering fly.
Chuck held his smirk and approached. She looked over, sighing as he walked over.
"What do you want Bass?"
"Why do you always assume I want something?"
"It's not like you talk to people out of the goodness of your heart."
"Well it may be true in most cases." Chuck shrugged. "How's Eleanor's new boyfriend?" Blair mentioned earlier her excitement to meet her mom's new and apparently amazing boyfriend.
"Ugh the guy is a five foot tall happy-go-lucky Jewish lawyer!" Blair flailed her arms in dramatics. "And he's a hugger!"
"Sounds like the perfect man for Eleanor to me." Chuck smirked as Blair slapped him in the arm.
"You're not helping."
"Wasn't trying too."
Chuck smirked before changing the subject. "What are you doing this weekend?"
"Me? Why?" She asked suspiciously.
"Just making conversation Waldorf."
Blair's eyes fell. "Oh. Well I will be spending more time with that gnome sized hugging …person." Blair's features softened. "How about you?"
"Hockey game with Bart." Chuck said proudly.
"Really? That's great!"
Chuck shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah it's been… long overdue."
Blair gripped Chuck's arm, a shot of electricity whizzing through his arteries and veins. "I'm really happy for you Chuck."
She gripped his arm for a moment too long before awkwardly pulling away. Blair averted her doe brown eyes to a thunderstruck Serena.
"Blair I can I talk to you? Alone." She appeared frazzled- but that may have been because of her slightly fizzed block locks.
"Yeah of course, is everything okay?"
Blair shot Chuck a pleading look and he nodded.
"I have to go meet up with Nate. I'll see you two around." Chuck walked forward towards the courtyard, spotting his blond friend, feeling Blair's eyes trail after him until he was out the door.
"That's a foul!" Big Bart Bass exclaimed shoveling a mouthful of salty popcorn into his thin mouth. Chuck just blinked bemused. He eyed him intently, his father's icy blue eyes focused on the players on the ice. Chuck had never seen his father express any emotion but resentment or regret- it was jarring.
"Come on ref that's a penalty! He hooked Gomez!" Bart just shook his head in disbelief as the referee told the players to play on.
Chuck was not all that familiar to hockey, having a few memories of watching the New York Rangers play. He didn't know or remember who Scott Gomez was, or Nikolai Zherdev. All Chuck Bass knew was that hockey moved fast.
It was only the second period of the game with a full ten minutes remaining until the next period. The score was dead-locked, zero-zero. Chuck watched Zherdav skate down the ice on a breakaway, his arm reeling to make a slap shot. He launched the invisible puck (to Chuck who could only see a tiny black blur) and it dinged off the red goalpost.
Chuck sighed heavily, cursing under his breath.
"Come on Zherdev!" Bart barked completely transfixed on the game.
Chuck watched as one of the defenders, Callahan spat at one of the opposing teammates. All of a sudden, they started punching each other blindly, their gloves hitting the ice. Some people cheered while others booed angrily.
"Come on Callahan! In the nose!" Chuck's eyes widened at his father's remark. This was a whole new side to his father that he didn't know existed. The referees interfered pulling the two apart sending the defender to the penalty box.
"Dobrov should go in the box too! He fought back!"
"Well didn't Callahan start the fight?" Chuck spoke for the first time during the second period.
Bart turned to face him. "But he punched back. Son which team are you cheering for?"
"The Rangers obviously. I mean come on, they're playing against the New York Islanders. That's morbid if I were to support the rival."
Bart smirked. Chuck looked to see only five more minutes on the clock. Chuck cleared his throat, "Can I ask you something?"
"Did you ever take mom to a hockey game?"
Bart stiffened slightly but turned to face his son. "Yes I did. Many times. Although she wasn't the biggest fan of the sport. Why?"
"I just wanted to know-you know- what she was like before..."
"Well as you already know, I met her before Bass Industries became successful. Your mother was… a lot of things. She was compassionate, assertive, beautiful… but very stubborn. When your mother said something, she meant it. You know, a straight shooter."
Chuck nodded, absorbing the information. "What about the rest of the Bass family?"
"You remember Uncle Jack don't you?"
"I was six the last time I saw him."
"Well he is enjoying his life running Bass industries in Australia." Bart answered smoothly.
"Why doesn't he ever come see us?"
Bart looked on at the oncoming play on the ice. He watched the opposing team skate down the ice, making complete passes before being intercepted by the Ranger defender Callahan. He continued his silence, watching Callahan pass the puck to Zherdev, and then proceeded to glide toward the net, slapping the black puck. It sailed into the net. BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!
The crowd erupted into cheers and clapping, but Bart didn't move. He remained in his seat, almost in a trance, watching the New York Rangers celebrate.
Chuck instantly regretted asking the question. He looked up at the huge four-sided T.V screen and watched the instant replay, Zherdev's picture appearing along with his stats.
"Sorry I brought it up." Chuck muttered as the crowd slowly died down. Two minutes left until the end of the second period.
"No you deserve to know." Bart sighed. "The thing is sometimes mixing business and family can create success. But when it one person gets greedy, well, the family falls apart."
Chuck scrunched his eyebrows. "Is that what happened to you and Uncle Jack?"
Bart raised his eyebrows. "You could say that."
"What about mom's family?" Chuck asked trying to change the subject.
"What about them?"
"Well I don't remember meeting grandparents or any aunts and uncles for that matter."
"Misty's parents weren't my biggest fans and her sister Kim despised me. Since your mom passed, they had no reason to associate with me."
Chuck sat back in his seat. So he had family- they just didn't want to be associated with him- well, them. The buzzer rang signaling the end of the second period. Bart stood stretching his legs.
"I think I see some clients in the boxes over there. I'll be back for the next period. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to meet them?" Bart asked the question in his usual monotone voice making it more of a command rather than a question.
Chuck paused, and didn't immediately answer. "I guess now would be a great opportunity."
Bart nodded leading the way out of their box. It was then, that Chuck had realized that he'd spent more time with his father today than he had combined the past couple years.
The elevator doors glided open as Chuck and Bart emerged. The whole ride home was quiet but pleasant. No added tension.
The New York Rangers won two-one. This marked the third game he'd been too, in his life, in which the Rangers won. He was a good luck charm, no doubt about it. Both Basses turned the corner to see Lily and Eric on the crème coloured couch.
"How was the game?" Lily turned removing her glasses. She stood to greet Bart with a kiss and Chuck with a hug.
"The Rangers won." Chuck said.
"That's great! It must have been such fun," Lily turned to Eric and back to both Bass men. "Eric has some news."
"Well if it's coming from Eric it must be good." Bart said his face stone cold as always.
Chuck took a seat on the loveseat across his step brother. "Let's hear it little brother."
"I got a job." Eric exclaimed.
"That's good news?" Chuck kinked his eyebrow.
"Chuck." Bart gave a warning tone.
"This job is kind of different. It's for this website a part of the New York Sun, they wanted to start a blog to attract the younger generation. I'm helping as one of the moderators."
"Are you aiming to be the next Perez Hilton?"
Eric laughed. "No, I'm not writing the articles, I just upload them and monitor the site. You know, technical stuff."
"Congratulations Eric." Bart said.
"This needs a celebration- a toast if you will."
"Mom no- I don't want-"
"Brother, allow me to do the honours." Chuck stood. "I'll be back."
Chuck climbed the stairs and entered Bart's office. Chuck headed over to the cabinet for all the most expensive liquor. He gazed at his father's desk. Something was off. For one, Bart's desk was always immaculate. Now, papers were strewn all over the place, files were open and a large brown envelope- like the files of Eric, Serena, Lily and Chuck had. Chuck pushed some financial statements aside. Perplexed, he wondered what it was. Last time Chuck checked, Bart had destroyed all of their files. Chuck flipped it over onto its front side. No words were written on the front, but the file was as heavy as a lead weight.
Curiosity got the best of Chuck as he unwounded the string on the back flap of the envelope. He pulled out a stack of papers, ones that resembled a law case.
"What the..." Chuck exclaimed in awe as he read the front page.
BASS V. AINSLEY 44 N.Y.2d 584 (2nd Dept. 1995)
Chuck gaped at the front page. Chuck knew Bart had been sued by many people before but they usually sued the business-not Bart personally.
Why did that name sound familiar? Chuck pondered. He flipped to the first page. He skimmed over the text, noticing all these law terms he didn't know. Only appeal, and custody stood out to him.
Chuck fanned the whole bounded case until looking back to the front page. It wasn't until then, that he knew what the lawsuit about.
Court of Appeal for New York, Bartholomew Bass v. Kimbery Ainsley and Travis Ainsley October 27, 2008
Chuck began to read the beginning paragraph more thoroughly, noticing different parts of the constitution brought up. Until he pieced together the following message.
Request for sole custody of Evelyn Misty Bass.
Chuck looked up, stunned. Dozens of questions swirled in Chuck's mind, like a brewing hurricane.
Who was Evelyn Misty Bass?
A/N: Like I said, I've had this idea for a LONG time and have big plans for this story! So should I continue? Please REVIEW!
P.S. Happy Remembrance Day/Veterans Day to all!