She tugs at the neckline of her dress, the fabric suffocating her in the warm and crowded room. Waiters pass by with trays of her favorite foods which she demurely declines while ignoring the questioning stares from her friends. The girl next to her, all blonde hair and legs for days, takes a bite into a crab cake and praises it before offering the other half to her best friend. She shakes her head no, but the blonde pushes it closer to her face.

"B, you have to try this. It's like a religious experience."

Not quick enough to think of an excuse, she takes a bite and then chews slowly and deliberately. It takes a concerted effort for her to swallow the savory morsel, which she follows by chugging her flute of Dom. She raises the empty glass and signals towards the bar. The two blondes she was with nod, and then return to the conversation she could not be bothered to listen to.

She shifts her dress again as she makes her way across the room, adjusting the straps and smoothing the front paneling over her stomach. Her mother watches her fussing with the garment and raises her eyebrows when their eyes meet. She guiltily drops her hands back to her sides, and tries to carry the Waldorf Original with more grace.

She reaches the bar, but before she can even get out her drink order a brunette joins her at her side. His one word greeting, just her name, is breathed in her ear and she understands how he has brought so many girls to their knees. She nods and spits out his one syllable name as he signals to the bartender and orders for both of them.

Once their drinks arrive they clink their glasses without any other words. Scotch and champagne are brought to their lips as they both sip while maintaining eye contact. The spell is broken however when Eleanor slides up to hiss criticisms in her ear. She turns so her back is to him while he faces the bar, pretending to ignore the spat while straining to hear the two women.

The fight is short, and he's not sure what was said, but she's obviously upset. He looks and her and asks, but she merely nods and says, "I'm fine." Instinctively he reaches out to her and his touch forces her to look up at him.

Their two best friends join them at the bar, and by then she has swallowed the tears that had a moment ago been shining behind her eyes and his hand has dropped from its resting place on her arm. She takes another swig of champagne before reaching out to grab some food off a passing plate. She can't hear the pointless conversation and laughter above her mother's harsh words ringing through her ear. Her stomach rolls as she self-consciously pulls at the skin-tight dress again. Before she can spin out of control she excuses herself. She tries to walk confidently across the room, to the satisfaction she hopes to find behind the restroom door.

He is watching though. He watches as she grabs something on a toothpick off another wandering tray and pops it in her mouth quickly before finding the bathroom. He waits, but he knows. He has seen this before; they all have. He tries to think of what could have triggered it tonight while he gives her the three minutes just to make sure.

The minutes pass slowly and when she doesn't appear he interrupts his friends' conversation with her name. They both look at him and he points at the bathroom. Realization dawns on her best friend, as she finally recognizing the signs she should have seen. In a flash all three are charging across the room. The sound of the running faucet sending ice through the blonde's veins as the door is thrown open for her.

The sound of the door and three sets of footsteps register as she kneels in the stall. Her finger that had been hovering over her lips as she considered a second purge drops because she knows. She knows that the heels belong to her best friend, who will hold her and pet her hair and say that this can be fixed. She knows that the second set of footsteps belong to her boyfriend who will stand back and offer a supportive rub on the back. She knows that the last set of sure footsteps belong to the one who ratted her out, who was the first one to catch her, and who always knows her better than anyone.

"B, we know you're in there."

She sighs and flushes the toilet as someone turns off the tap. In the stall she stands and takes a moment to compose herself. She wipes her mouth on the back of her shaky hand and takes several deep breaths before she unlocks the metal door. When she steps out her best friend is staring down at her with pity, while the two men lean against the sink. She stumbles on her words, immediately trying to make up excuses, but she is silenced.

"Come on Blair, we've all been here before. You can try to fool your mother, but you can't fool us."

Chuck's words were spoken harsher than he intended, and he mentally curses himself as fresh tears spring to her eyes. He takes a step forward, but pauses. He is the one who finds her, but he is not the one who holds her. She instead falls into Serena's embrace, while soothing words are whispered into her brown curls.

After some time, they spring into action; a well-rehearsed dance that they all unfortunately know by heart. Coats are gathered, goodbyes are said, vague excuses made. They all four climb into the back of the long black car as Arthur is instructed to head to eleven thirty-six. The ride is silent except for a few murmured words of support and whispered promises of appointments in the morning. They're familiar discussions that don't need repeating, but also need to be said at the same time. As they pull up in front of her building she makes her standard plea to not tell her mother. Glances are silently exchanged among the three friends, but she is assured that this will still be their secret.

As she climbs out of the car her best friend follows, assuring the others that she can handle it tonight. They both want to follow them, but know not to. As the limo heads into the city, scotch is silently poured and shared until one of them finally finds words.

"Thanks for looking out for her tonight, man." He receives only a nod as his friend stares at the brown liquid in his hand. "I really thought she was over this" her boyfriend mulls out loud.

"We all did, Nathaniel."

A stranger presses against his back and he is not surprised. The strong drinks they pour here means Chuck Bass never has to try very hard to find a girl to take home, and now he has to exert even less effort. He raises his glass to his lips as ruby red lips whisper her name in his ear. He freezes mid-sip as recognition dawns on him with the word "Svetlana." He turns slowly and is face to face with the first girl he ever took home.

She furrows her brow when she realizes who he is, as the blonde behind her laughs out loud. The reveal of her true identity does not deter Georgina, as she offers up a blue pill and the brown liquid to wash it down with. He considers for a second, because no one parties like Svetlana and Savannah, but one look at his blonde friend and he knows that he can't let his guard down too much tonight. She dances to a song obviously different than the one pounding through the speakers as he tries to estimate how many glasses she used to wash down her own pills. He shakes his head at Georgina and she shrugs and swallows the pill herself.

He goes to the bar and leaves the two to party. He strikes up a conversation with a girl whose breasts are so exposed he spends the entire time watching in case a nipple slips out. Every once in a while he looks up to see if sunshine Barbie is still there; someone has to look out for her and the other half of their foursome is at home. He imagines the perfect couple spending their night studying for tomorrow's Shakespeare test before his friend goes home to smoke away the pain of his blue balls. He chuckles out of pity for poor Nathaniel, and the girl in front of him seems to think she is funny.

He looks again out towards those dancing and she catches his eye. In a minute she is making a beeline for the bar. She ignores the girl practically sitting on his lap, as well as his protestations that Chuck Bass does not dance, and pulls him off the stool. And it's the three bad kids: the ones that everyone thinks they need to save, the ones that can't be saved. It's her and the girl who can get her in all kinds of trouble with the only guy who can keep up with the two of them.

Alcohol, ecstasy, and music pound through her veins; her whole body feels charged. When hands snake around her waist she shimmies her hips and sinks into the embrace. It is only when she realizes that she does not know the owner of these hands that are traveling up and down her thighs that she starts to move away.

He is a lot stronger than her. For a minute she watches her friend wage a war with himself, is he supposed to step in or leave her be? Take her home or just see her at school tomorrow? He searches her face for a sign, but before she can even shake her head no he sees the guy's hand ghost over her drink. He watches the foreign object fall into the vodka and it only takes seconds before he is pulling her out of his arms.

She stands by sipping on her drink as the two men fight over her. All it takes is a shove and his signature line being spat at the stranger for him to back off the blonde. The damage has already been done though, and by the time he has turned back to her she has finished her drink and is getting another. He curses to himself and weaves in and out of couples grinding on each other in his way of the bar.

She's halfway through another pink drink when he pulls on her arm. She protests because they're having fun! His reminder of school tomorrow does nothing as she laughs and asks him if he really wants to be boring like Nate and Blair.

He knows that she's going to lose control soon. The dizziness will set in, her limbs will get heavy, and keeping her eyes open will be a struggle. He wants to get her in the car before the effects set in. He's seen this before and he's pretty sure he won't have to call for back up if they leave now. She pouts at him, but finally lets him lead her out to the street.

He watches her visibly become slower as they wait for the limo to be pulled around. She is complacent though, and leans into him when he throws her right hand over his shoulders and he attaches his left hand to her hip. He tries to block out the thoughts of how lucky she is that he saw it happen. She hasn't been so lucky in the past.

Once inside the car he lays her down on the seat and then moves to the other bench. He shouts an address at Arthur, not sure where to take her, but sure she can't go home. He takes out his phone and punches in the number he knows by heart.

The phone rings three times before he hears a groan, followed by "what do you want man? I'm busy" and giggling in the background.

"It's Serena."

Silence on the other end of the line is followed by muffled voices and the end of the giggling. "Where are you?"

"In the limo, meet me outside Blair's in ten minutes." He barely waits for a response before he hangs up the phone. Everyone knows their roles in this song and dance.

As the limo pulls up to the fifth avenue building, he reaches over and takes her cellphone out of her shiny bag. A baggie of white powder falls out and he snatches it off the floor and stuffs it in between glasses in his mini bar. He doubts she'll notice it missing and he knows her best friend will be snooping for things like this.

She is not easily coaxed awake, as she is pushed and pulled out of the door by four strong hands. The two boys take their places at her side, their hands on her waist, hers on their shoulder. Practice means that all three walk expertly into the building without tripping or stumbling once.

Her phone is passed off to her best friend who follows, fingers skating over the keyboard composing texts to Lilly and Eric about an all-night cram session and a slumber party at the Waldorf's. Once the elevator opens she barks directions which serve only as a way for her to maintain control of a situation she lost control of years ago.

In the blue bedroom all six hands work on stripping her of her skin-tight sequin dress and replacing it with silk pajamas. She tries to help, but can barely move her arms they feel so heavy. She is laid down on the right side of the bed and murmurs a thanks as the three figures turn off the light and shut the door behind them.

"Chuck, how could you two do this again? And how could you not call us sooner?" Each question is punctuated with punches that land ineffectively on his chest. She never was as strong as she thought she was. Instead, she provokes a Chuck Bass outburst.

He moves a step closer to her. His voice is low and gravelly as he hisses at her, "you think this was me? I wasn't the one who brought her there, I wasn't the one who bought her drinks, I wasn't the one who gave her the E, and I sure as hell wasn't the one who slipped a roofie in her vodka. All I did was get her home safely. You're welcome." His anger is evident in his tone, and her face softens. Both brunettes take deep breaths before one of them breaks the silence.

"She was roofied?" Blair asks, desperation in her voice.

He slowly nods and takes a couple steps backwards before looking at the two fallen faces. The disappointment that they had felt towards Serena and Chuck now has turned into disappointment in themselves for always thinking the worst of their friends. He feels guilty for telling them about the E, but they've already forgotten about that because she is their golden girl. As quickly as she can disappoint them, they can forgive her just as easily. He knows that tonight is no different than any other time she's come home like this.

"Thank you, Chuck. It's pretty late and she obviously needs to rest, so maybe we'll watch a movie. See you tomorrow?" She hopes this is enough to serve as her apology. He nods and tells her to enjoy Audrey, even though all three of them know Serena is dead asleep by now. The girlfriend kisses her beau goodbye before the two boys slowly make their way down the stairs and back to the hotel room they both consider a home.

He pours himself another drink as he watches the party in the suite. The stench of smoke, scotch, and sex fills the room and he knows that this not so sweet sixteen is one of the best parties in recent memory. As he scans the room again he notices that one thing is missing from this signature Chuck Bass party is the host himself. He turns to the two girls at his side, each wearing completely opposite looks of elation and disdain.

"Hey, have you guys seen Chuck?" both girls half-heartedly look around the room before offering the suggestion that he is in his bedroom with some poor girl. His friend shakes his head and notes the open bedroom door.

"He probably wants people to see," the brunette suggests as the blonde slaps her arm and squeals in disgust.

"We have to find him. It's his birthday," he says so low the second half comes out like a whisper. And then, with those three words, all three finally remember why their friend is missing his own party. Without another word he walks determinedly through the suite. The two girls hurry to catch up and both reach out to press the call buttons.

"Blair, where are you going?" he asks, eyebrows raised at the up button she just pressed. Her one word answer of "roof" is met with knowing nods as her elevator arrives first. She doesn't wait for either of them to join her; she prides herself in being able to talk him down. Once the second elevator reaches the lobby the two blondes go in separate directions. He goes towards the desk to see if Arthur and the limo are still here, or if the driver has already been called. She goes to the bar, knowing that's where he would have gone to drown his sorrows.

She finds him first. She spots him from the back, wearing a purple shirt and slumped over the bar staring at a glass of brown liquid. She doesn't understand how her friends thought he was anywhere but here, and she curses them for making her the one to have to approach him. They've never been the friends that share; they're the friends that banter, the friends that party, the friends that protect their mutual best friends. She's not sure what to say when she finally reaches him so she just drops down in the stool next to him. This is their kind of therapy.

She orders a drink from the bartender and he finally looks up. He didn't need to see her to identify the blonde sitting next to him, if anyone was going to find him at a bar it would be her. They don't say anything, just sip their drinks. He's grateful for her presence, and lifts his glass in a wordless thanks. She smiles and nods while lifting her own glass because she understands.

Their silence is broken by his best friend's voice yelling his name, but the two stone faces that turn towards him shut him up. He sits down on the other side of the birthday boy and claps him on the back. He orders his own scotch and swallows a large gulp of the brown liquid. He contemplates asking how his friend is doing, but he knows the answer. Chuck's birthday has never been a day of celebration, which is why he had been so surprised when he was handed the invitation. No one throws a party like Chuck Bass though, and he was hoping that would be enough to pull his friend out of the darkness of this day. But they all know that the darkness is all consuming, and it's going to take more than Kati and Iz getting drunk on champagne and making out to erase the annual reminder of something that never needs reminding.

Eventually the last piece of their foursome finds them and starts fussing about ignoring guests and getting back upstairs. She stands between the two boys, reminding them that appearance is everything but they both shake their head. She sighs, knowing that this isn't a battle she should be fighting anyway. She wants to be supportive, but this is not the place, not when he's crawled so deep in a bottle and sitting between the two people who facilitate it. There's nothing anyone can say, and they all know it. She hopes that just being here is enough and takes her seat at the end of the line to watch the three of them.

Hours pass and sloppy high school students filter out of the elevators towards waiting cars on the street. The four of them still sit there. Eventually, he finishes his drink in one last sip and stands up. The girl furthest away springs to action first and helps him as he stumbles to the elevator. He slurs a thank you when she tries to catch him after he slips on the tile floor of the lobby and she smiles in response.

Once inside the room, they are all unsure what to do until he motions towards his mouth and breathes in deeply. His friend nods and works on rolling a joint. The most sober in the group scoffs and announces her departure.

"Suit yourself, Blair," he drawls. The blonde gives him a quick hug and presses a vile in his palm before making her exit. The other girl gives a longer, tighter hug and his arms feel surprisingly empty as she pulls away. She touches his cheek while placing a peck on the other one and they both close their eyes for a second. And then reality comes crashing back down as she quickly pulls away blushing and turns to follow her best friend.

He looks at the closed door until he hears the clicking of Nate's lighter. He joins him on the couch, and wonders for a second if his father will be able to smell the stale scent of the smoke when he gets back from his trip. He looks at his phone one more time, hoping to see a call he missed, and when nothing shows up he takes a long drag of the paper in his hands.

"Happy birthday to me," he says as his vision blurs even more and he passes the joint to his friend.

His vision was fuzzy and his head felt heavy. He took one last drag off the dying joint and coughed as the harsh smoke hit his lungs. He drained the glass in his hand in an attempt to ease his burning throat, but the burning sensation only intensified. His friend watched him from across the coffee table and smirked.

"No one enjoys their first time," he heard as he filled up his glass again. It was the first time they had smoked in the suite, usually an activity they reserved for after school in the park, they usually only stole Bart's booze when they were there. After yet another loaded discussion with his father about Dartmouth this morning he sought the refuge of both substances: the weed to calm him down and the alcohol to make him forget. His friend's new suggestion to mix the two seemed like the best answer.

He knew both were hitting him harder than they were hitting his friend. He wondered how he would make it to the event tonight that he had promised his mother and girlfriend he would attend. Vaguely he heard his phone beep, but he ignored it knowing it was just a text confirming that he would be wearing the suit and tie she chose for him earlier this week.

They both entertained the idea of skipping the event all together. He cited how suffocating it would be, his friend saying other activities would be far more entertaining. Eventually he sighed heavily and repeated his promise to Blair that he would be there.

"Well if Queen B wants it we better get you there," his friend said while he laughed. Bringing up the fact that his friend was completely and utterly whipped by the brunette was one of Chuck Bass's favorite pass times. He usually liked to bring up the fact that it wasn't the good kind of whipping with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. And just as he was about to say something else about Queen B, she threw open the door and stomped in with her blonde friend in tow. The blonde smiled and waved before going right over to the bar to pour her own drink, obviously having done so at her own apartment beforehand.

"Waldorf, I knew I shouldn't have given you a key," he said as greeting. She made a face at him before turning to her boyfriend.

"Nate let's go. Our parents are already there we need to get downstairs now," she sighed. She was too tired to fight with him about smoking again and she just wanted to get to the charity dinner.

"I'm not going," he said in an act of defiance that surprised everyone, especially himself. She looked at him incredulously and he repeated that he was not attending. "I'm so tired of plans and my parents deciding my life. I'm making a decision and Chuck and I are going out tonight."

The other boy merely shrugged, knowing that "out" meant riding around in the limo and drinking more. She still stared at him before relenting. She knew of the fight this morning and knew that it just wasn't worth it. She snatched his phone off the table and sent a text to his mother about a bad stomach bug.

"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow. Let's go Serena" she barked as she made her way to the door. But the blonde pouted and begged her friend to stay with the boys.

"Please B, this will be so much more fun" she fake whined and the brunette didn't know what to do. She looked at the playful pout on her best friends face, and the blank stare on her boyfriend's. Then she turned and regarded the other man in the room for the first time. He was wearing his stupid smirk and staring her down.

"Come on Blair, I have champagne. And I know you love a limo."

"Fine" she breathes out in response and the blonde cheers.

They spend the night shouting vague directions around the city at Arthur and laughing every time one of them spills. He feels the weight of this morning's discussion melt off his shoulders. He watches his dark haired friend and girlfriend laugh out loud and thinks that this is where they're all the happiest. And he smiles as the blondes leans over towards him, filling his glass again. He quickly forgets all the troubles that had seemed to weigh him down all day, and he takes a gulp of his drink.

He'll be back in his bed before his parents get home, tucked in by the two more responsible of the group, and they won't suspect anything. He feels lighter than he has in a while and feels bold enough to kiss both girls goodnight as they leave him in his room. It is only when he spots the Dartmouth banner his father hung in his room that reality starts to come crashing down, but the taste of scotch still on his tongue and the feel of her lips still on his mouth lull him to sleep before he can worry about it.