A/N: I'm actually writing this first author's note after I wrote the story, if you can believe it. Heh. After the second author's note too! Lol. So basically…I have nothing to say. XD These are Chuck's thoughts after Jenny yells at him in 2x21…when he's staring out the rainy window just before Nate comes to talk to him and ask for advice.

*I OWN NOTHING! Heh.

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"…because you lost Blair, and now she's dating your best friend. Therefore, the only human contact that you have that you don't payfor is the people in this house. But knowing you, you'll screw that up too."

He didn't even want to think of how true those words rang through. It was the key reason he brought the skank home to begin with—the reason why he bragged about his conquest in front of his almost step-sister's date.

How dare she be able to get to him the way that she did.

He didn't have anything else to hold onto. Every day it killed him just a little more that Nate had been the one to put Blair back together, that his own attempts to put her back together had completely and utterly failed. He had given up so quickly that after only one try, he had begged Serena for advice. Earlier in the year before the madness of his father's death had occurred, there had been no end to his chasing her down…not even after he got her to play along.

And Elle?

He stared out at the steadily pouring rain.

What the heck had he been doing with her?

"…the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

Bullshit.

Even if it had been true, it didn't matter how physically beautiful or admirably skillful she was…she wasn't Blair. Even if she hadn't left the country—had wanted more than money—had almost fallen into feelings with him…sooner or later he would have grown bored. It wouldn't be enough. Because she wouldn't be Blair.

She wasn't the most beautiful.

He didn't really—entirely—care for her.

And while he was convinced of the opposite…Blair's world had been falling apart. And he wasn't there to put it all back together. She had saved him from himself, had been there every step of the way until he completely broke her…and he couldn't even acknowledge her existence for a mere selfless second afterwards.

It had only mattered what he was going to do with himself now that Blair wanted nothing to do with him. God forbid he should even consider what she must have been going through on tearing herself away from him…and what other possible terrors could be engulfing her life.

He hadn't thought.

And she was gone.

And Jenny was right.

Bitch.

Going back to his old life wouldn't help, would hurt, because numbing the pain wouldn't last. The pain would overtake any drugs consumed, and his 'conquests' would become more of an annoyance than anything else.

"I believed in you. Your father believed in you. You were the only one that didn't."

The rain pounded harder on his bedroom window.

God damn those cursed butterflies. They would never leave him alone.

They had too much history together.

"Do you like me?"

No, he didn't like her—he loved her.

And he would never have her.

And she would torment him till the end of his days just through memories.

"Three words. Eight letters. Say it and I'm yours."

He should have said it. But he couldn't…wouldn't. And it had ended. It had ended that day when she drove off beaming at her 'British lord'. It had ended when they couldn't say 'I love you' on that rooftop in Brooklyn. It had ended when he couldn't respond to her love confession with anything more than a rejection, probably the very thing that had been preventing her from granting his 'love confession' request to begin with.

It had ended when he left her with nothing more than a note on departure, when he had thrown all the risks she had taken for them back in his face, had ended when he let himself get sucked into his uncle's schemes and ignored, betrayed Blair once again. It had ended when he forced himself to obsess over Elle, when Blair's own world was crashing down. It ended when Carter told her about Elle, when Carter stole her from him once he finally came to his senses.

It had ended when his best attempts of saving her was to prevent her from kissing him.

As if that was all she lived for.

And when he was finally ready…he got there a moment before. And then they were together, and he probably instigated it. And then there was Vanessa and…

Sigh.

They were a complicated issue. He and Blair—Chuck and Blair—were so exhausting to think about. And what he had once wanted with her—he needed now. What he had once teased her over—he begged her for now, in his mind, he pleaded for her heart. He couldn't possibly still have it.

On top of it all, he was unreliable to the 'family' he still had hanging around, and couldn't believe how Nate was still standing by his side as a good friend. Of course he never questioned him about any of these things. But God, sometimes he hated him…for having that innate ability to always steal Blair out from under him, even when he didn't really have her to begin with.

Now he could only lose himself in the insanity of the rain crashing down outside his window.

"…you lost Blair and now she's dating your best friend…"

Need he say…again? The deep, slow pounding of his heart. The sweat droplets that invisibly consumed his face. The guilt riding low in his stomach, flowing almost evenly with the butterflies that batted wildly against each other for the one and only Blair Waldorf.

Why had this happened?

How had he gotten a soul?

Couldn't he have left it alone and just waited for Nate to come back to Blair? He probably would have, even if his sole reason was for how light and happy she had become—after Chuck Bass had contaminated her.

"You don't belong with Nate—never have, never will."

So what if it was true? It didn't mean he had to be the one she belonged too.

"You don't belong with anyone."

He swallowed hard. It didn't get much plainer than that.

Knock.

Eyes closed, his insides churning at the thought of tangible reality forcing its way onto him so soon. "Look, I told you, I'm not in the mood."

The door opened, and he felt the new presence in the room.

"Good, neither am I."

Prince Charming. His best friend. Blair's boyfriend—again.

He knew that weak, hopeless, helpless, frustrated, calm tone in Nate Archibald's voice—almost better than anyone. This was either about his father or Blair. His father was taken care of, and so there was only Blair. Nate would think she hadn't changed. He would have to explain the fight, and what she had done—what she had risked.

Chuck would have to support one of them, and definitely he'd have to tell the truth. As long as it didn't give away his feelings for that beautiful brunette.

After all, Nate and Blair were dating.

Chuck was the best friend.

And it had ended…a long time ago.

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A/N: I hope you liked it. I know it's rather angsty, and as you can imagine…I definitely concocted this oneshot idea at least a week or two ago. Lol. I've been rather depressed and moody the last few hours though. I figured that's the perfect type of setting you want to write an angst fic—and certainly for motivation's sake. Review!