The ducks always did soothe her. The way they just swam around without a care in the world, knowing that this was their place. They made intricate patterns and swirls in the pond almost like a starry night in the depths of winter. The patterns reflected in Blair's glossy eyes as she fawned over the young ducklings while grasping the miniscule loaf of bread she had bought from a friend of hers, a very kind friend.

Piece by piece, she slowly would give equal shares to the ducks, and she would be enamored by how peaceful these creatures were. Her old memories mostly consisted of days at this place, Central Park. She remembered the day dresses and the berets as if they were still in her closet.

It was a quiet morning, not too quiet but perfect. It gave her a sense that she was still living and that the world was living as well. Occasional quacks of the ducklings would receive a rare laugh from Blair, and soon she realized that she actually had something to care for that would love her unconditionally in return. It was a wonderful feeling, Blair's heart warmed at the thought.

Her ministrations stopped and she was awoken from her minor trance when a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Waldorf?" The voice belonged to none other than the White Knight. A soft, kind but confused voice with no intention of hurting her.

"Mr. Archibald?" Blair wiped the crumbs off her sky blue dress. She always had the instinct to look presentable in front of wealthy folk. "What are you doing here, in Central Park...by the duck pond?" Blair suspiciously questioned with fear and intrigue all the same. Surely, he had not known this was her favorite spot in all of New York, though the man was handsome, he was not the sharpest tool in the shed.

"The ducks are a delight to some, but actually I came here to look for you. Obviously, I have succeeded." Nate smiled like he was set on doing something; Blair just had no clue as to what.

Blair's eyebrows furrowed. "Me? What could've been so important that you had to trek though the city just to find me feeding birds?" Her lips pressed together in a firm line, she wanted her answer.

"I do hope you're not somehow occupied tonight, Miss Waldorf. My parents and I would like to offer an invitation to dinner to you, tonight at six o' clock. I do hope you'll consider –"He was interrupted by a short statement.

"Blair." Nate's questioning face proved that he had no idea as to what she was rambling about now. "Call me Blair, it irks me so when men call me Miss Waldorf when by me it's completely fine for them to call me Blair."

"Oh." His face of relief showed that he now understood and didn't believe she was mad or crazy. "My apologies, Blair."

He follows commands easily too, how quaint.

"As much as I appreciate and love how you even thought about me enough to invite me to such an event, I regret that I must decline, and I understand if there won't be a next time." Blair had no choice, in all honesty she would kill to go to one of these events, but in truth she had no way to look somewhat presentable or acceptable in front of these society matrons. Of course she had a few dresses, but nothing to make her feel accepted, therefore she would not go and embarrass herself; her pride was on the line.

Nate couldn't mask the disappointment on his face, he truly wanted her to go and meet his family. She was the perfect girl; she looked like a child sitting at the pond, a child that could easily take orders and sit there and look pretty, the perfect trophy wife.

"Oh, don't fret, there will definitely be a next time, I can't even get you off my mind, how could I never speak to you again?" The hidden confession was not overlooked by Blair. Pink rose in her cheeks and she sighed.

"You flatter me, Mr. Archibald."

"You deserve it, and by the way, it's Nate." He winked, tipped his hat, and turned but offered one last sentiment.

"If you change your mind about tonight, do not hesitate to tell me, we would all be honored with your presence." With that, Blair could only see the silhouette of a one Nate Archibald fading into the fog of Central Park.

Blair sighed angrily as she began to pack up her bread and other niceties. It was the saddest moment of the day, when she would pack up and leave the pond. It always felt as if you were leaving a friend's house early because your mother demanded you had other things to accomplish.

As soon as she was finished packing up, she heard that all too familiar voice that she loathed.

"Well, well, well. Look at what the fates have handed me today." Chuck declared sarcastically as he strode right beside Blair, and took a seat as if he owned the damn place.

"My, my look at what the cat dragged in." Blair spoke breezily and began to rise to leave when a hand stopped her.

"I see nothing has affected your sense of wit. You don't get nearly enough credit for it."

"I wonder if stalking is a crime." Blair drawled out, almost like thinking out loud. She saw Chuck's smirk grow and she knew she had won this battle.

"You love it." Chuck challenged her, he had the most miserable, boring morning, and this was like his morning cup of coffee, invigorating.

"I actually loathe it. There's a difference." Blair sneered; she made a disgusted face and huffed."Can you please leave? This is my spot and I'd rather not need medical help after catching some viral disease from you."

"Your spot? Oh no, my sweet. This is our spot now, I've tainted it." Chuck grinned and Blair wanted to smack him silly, but her self control saved her once again.

"You and I will never belong in the same sentence." Blair said this as a matter-of-factly. This man was the reason she hated most men, no pain or remorse.

Completely ignoring the ice forming in his gut, as well as her statement, Chuck questioned her once more. "Was that my dear friend, Nathaniel I saw retreating from your form moments ago?"

"Yes, and he wasn't retreating, he was being a gentleman even though I declined his offer…"

"Offer? Do tell." Chuck leaned forward; very interested to hear more of this offer his so called friend had run by Blair.

"Not that it's any of your business but Nate," she smiled wistfully, " asked me to dinner with his family, and I had to decline."

"Why decline? A night with the boss, classy."

"Actually," Blair felt her anger rising, and rising. She would take no more of this prostitution nonsense, he didn't have the right to know she wasn't one, but just that he needed to get his facts straight, "it was because I can't afford a dress," Chuck's heart sank a bit, and he silently cursed himself for the pain he inflicted on her again; but she was a hooker, hookers dealt with pain. He was silent, so she continued, "Now, I realize that even though I wanted to go desperately, why waste time being surrounded by people like you, Nate's not like that but I can't speak for his acquaintances." Blair paused briefly considering whether or not to make her next statement before forging forward. "And for that matter, you also need to get your facts straight."

"I think what you meant to say was why spend time surrounded by people that will never like you." He just blurted that out of nowhere, truth be told it was a low blow, but it just slipped out.

Rather than storm away, Blair willed herself to remain calm and ignore the sparks of anger and hatred that ran through her veins. "All three are obvious." She looked down at herself and smiled sadly while fingering her dress playfully.

"You know I didn't mean –"

"Yes, well I'm not going to be in denial anymore. So rather than rip a page out of my life, why not throw the whole book in the fire. You know what?" she turned to Chuck and his hesitant face, I should go to this dinner, and show my true self to the crème de la crème of New York City, thank you for enlightening me, Mr. Bass. Excuse me, I have to find someone." She hurriedly gathered her things, and stood and sped away, and was stopped once again by a hand.

"Blair, I'm sorry. Don't go to that dinner, you know you're better than them." Chuck tried to explain to no avail. Blair just groaned and shoved his hand away.

"Don't touch me!" she spat, "and only my friends call me Blair, leave me alone!" she cried and ran away and out of his vision. He had no choice but to follow.

Blair ran all through the park looking for Nate. She sped through masses of schoolchildren and couples walking trying to avoid the Depression. She finally spotted him in the center of the park by the fountain appearing to be in deep thought.

"Nate! Nate! Wait a moment." She raced up to him and he smiled expectantly, she loved delivering good news just for one's reaction. "I've had a change of plans, and heart", she added, "It would be my pleasure to have dinner with you tonight." Suddenly, a wave of insecurity and uncertainty hit her head on; she had a lot of work to do before tonight if she wanted to go up in smoke.

"I'd thought you'd never say that. I'll be by to escort you at five thirty. Speaking of escorting, would you like me to escort you home, Blair?"

"Uh, no thank you, I have many things to do and I need to stay on task, but feel free to take me through the park once more, then I must go."

"I'll take what I can get."

They both walked down the paved paths of Central Park to admire its great beauty together, while Chuck, all alone watched with an unfamiliar feeling, one he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Blair stood in front of her dusty mirror. She huffed in impatience and frustration; all of her dresses were either too conservative or too sparkly, no in between. In one last effort she dug through her closet, and on the ground she found something perfect to make sure her image would be tarnished forever. The book of Blair Waldorf was about to go up in flames.

She styled her hair by swooping it into an elegant low side bun. She took little strands and curled them with her old iron curler, well Eleanor's but she didn't need to know. Blair took two bobby pins and secured her hair, all the while chose her favorite fragrance Peppermint and applied it to her neck, wrists, and behind her ears, so one could find the scent.

She thought perhaps she was going too far with this whole social suicide act. Well, Chuck did imply that she was a whore, now to prove him right sounded reasonable enough. Once Nate and his family banished her from their sights, she could be an independent woman and maybe she would quit her job, and really get him mad. The problem was how to make money if she did quit.

Maybe she could become a street-walker. Just for show that is, show up, give a few kisses, take the cash, and bolt out of there. But, Blair Waldorf a criminal, never. She was still a pure woman and the greedy men surrounding her should not have a free go at her.

Frustrated with herself, she sat down on her bed, or what was left of it. It was all rough and raggedy due to her barely sleeping in it. She had tried to convince herself that the dark patched under her eyes were some sort of nutrient deprivation. With time to spare before the party, Blair just attempted to gather her racing thoughts and at least think of ways to make this a night to remember.

Chuck was fiddling with the olives in his martini in some seedy bar. Anything seemed more interesting than thinking about what Nate and Blair were up to at that party. He felt regret for his words, but not enough that he could acknowledge it.

The lights from the outside buildings gave some light into the dark club. Through the window he could see the puddles from the previous night's rain showers. The stony curbs and the debris made him feel at home. Nights like these, in un-named bars, with brand name liquor were his escape. Escape from his family or really his lack thereof. Escape from reality, the grim reality that he ruined everything he sets his brown eyes upon. Secretly, Chuck always wanted to someday be a hero figure for someone, do the right thing, just once to know what it felt like. To know what love and respect felt like.

But at this moment, all he has ever amounted to is defining himself as that shady persona with thoughts no one could ever imagine or understand. The wind was howling, as though in pity for him. He hated pity, especially when he knew it was for someone's benefit. Someone feeling sorry for how his father treats him then asks for money or gifts in return. Pity is not a consolation; he even tried to erase the word pity from his life. Feeling downright awful for someone and doing everything possible to ensure that person's happiness despite what happens to them is selfless love.

His deep and deranged thoughts were interrupted by a man in a dark pea coat finding refuge in this bar, the door slamming loudly behind him, the wind wailing behind the door and Chuck turning his head, wanting to be left by his lonesome.

Soon Chuck decided to get up and move to a table reserved to the side for him. He hated sharing the bar with other men, it felt wrong, this was his time to think and sink into his own regret, not someone else's.

He sat down with his face towards the wall, and the back of his head facing the bar. He could hear the conversations, but not have to look at their sorrowful faces. He had enough troubles of his own, hearing others would make it worse, at least in his mind.

He heard the bartender preparing a drink and the occasional clanking of bottles that he was accustomed to. Chuck also heard the bar stool squeaking as the man pulled it out to take a seat. His ears could tell that the bartender just slid the drink to the eager man. He sounded solemn and calculated, but had too many things running about his mind that the man shakily thanked the bartender.

"Thanks, man."

He knew that voice. That voice that sounded distant but always there. So Chuck turned his head slightly and his suspicions were confirmed.

There on the bar stool sat the one and only Nate Archibald who he had seen earlier today at the park gallivanting off with Blair. He was ashamed that he was one of his friends. He remembered the bet he made with Nate, but he didn't think Nate would be a hard competitor. And Chuck was also wondering why was he here, and not with Blair at the party, or off to accompany her.

Off in the distance, Nate sighed and asked the bartender for another drink. The bartender, Joe seemed concerned with the boy's look.

"Son, what's botherin' you, you've seemed blue ever since you came into the joint."

Joe's raw and raspy voice came from his years of smoking and drinking. Chuck knew this because he had come to this place as long as he can remember drinking, which in most cases he couldn't. He had been there for Chuck when he found out the truth about his mother's death, he was there if Chuck had too much to drink and had to make it home somewhat sober, he'd been there for everything. It seemed Joe was caring enough to worry about Nate as well.

"It's nothing. Just a lot on my mind, that's all."

Joe's eyes scanned Nate's bowtie and tuxedo. Then he looked down at himself, with his old shirt and bartender half apron and suddenly felt embarrassed but continued to speak.

"Looks like you're headed to a party or something"

Nate's blue eyes brightened and nodded."That I am, it's really important, and I'm just preparing myself. I think I'll have another." He slid his glass over to Joe who nodded and replied a short, "Sure thing."

Chuck did not like what he was hearing, and he was pretty sure his neck was turning red, and that it was spreading to his eyes, which were burning with rage and jealousy. He turned around for one last look before he was going to confront Nate and the sight he saw would burn in his memory forever.

There in the hands of Nathaniel Archibald was the infamous Vanderbilt diamond ring. Chuck's heart stopped, and his breathing paused. He knew that ring because Nate's mother had been wearing it since they were children. Anne always planned on giving it to Nate when he found a suitable girl to settle down with.

The ring sparkled in the dimly lit bar and taunted Chuck. Nate was just playfully twirling it around and sighing, almost with gratification. And the grim realization came to Chuck.

Nate was going to propose to Blair, and she was going to say yes.

But, Blair was going to destroy her reputation at this party.

Either two things could happen, Blair could desert the whole New Blair act before this party and become an Archibald, or revolt the whole Archibald clan and never been seen in the public eye again. Even though both were horrible consequences, Chuck decided he could change this, do something right for once. He could fix this, and even if Blair didn't want him in the end, he would be justified that he didn't hurt her, one time.

Unseen, he sped behind Nate and out the door of the bar. Nate looked up startled and saw no one, so he snuck the diamond back into the black velvet case, and into his pocket, and finished off his drink.

Chuck strode down the streets of the city. He was set on being the hero for once. He was a walking cliché, literally. Chuck Bass trying to do the right thing. As he embarked to the Waldorf home, all he had on his mind was what he was about to do.

Selfless love.

Probably, my favorite chapter yet. Please reveiw if you have ever alerted this story, so I know you're reading. And thanks for Kate2008 for beta'ing. I love her! Share your thoughts, and I love you all.