Streets of New York; Wednesday Night
Chuck was someone who had made a lot of mistakes in his short almost-nineteen years. A lot. Thousands. So to say that sleeping with Jenny Humphrey was the biggest mistake he had made in his life was saying something huge. He really couldn't think of anything that topped it. While the sex had been consensual, it had been a mistake and, thanks to Jenny, it wasn't even a secret mistake.
He had no idea why Jenny told Eric what happened but once he knew, everybody knew. And everybody immediately blamed Chuck for everything. Blair blew up at him, Serena was ignoring him, Dan had taken the opportunity to finally punch Chuck in the face after years of threatening to do so and Rufus made it clear he didn't want to see Chuck again. Which was a big deal considering he was married to Chuck's mother. Add that to the fact that Jenny was leaving the city because of what happened and it was pretty much the worst day Chuck had in a while, and it didn't look like it was going to get any better any time soon. He didn't think he had ever felt so lonely in his life. He toyed with the idea of calling someone from Fandom to explain what happened but he didn't know what he'd do if they yelled at him too.
All he could think of to do to deal with it was get incredibly shitfaced and then maybe pass out in one of the empty rooms in the Empire so he wouldn't have to deal with Nate.
The shitfaced part of the plan had worked well. He had a whole club to get wasted in and the news of how Jenny lost her virginity hadn't made Gossip Girl yet, so Chuck was able to get nice and drunk without interruption. Well, save for the constant buzzing of his phone because it looked like Nate wanted to give Chuck a piece of his barely there mind as well. He ended up leaving his phone at the bar when he left. He didn't want to talk to anybody at the moment.
He stumbled out of the bar well after midnight, ignoring people giving him side eye and waving off the limo driver waiting at the entrance. He felt like he couldn't breathe and being trapped in a limo right now seemed like torture. The Empire wasn't all that far. He could walk there. Or, well, he'd walk as far as he could and then when it felt like he could breathe again he'd call a cab or something.
That plan had been working pretty well until Chuck found himself in an unfamiliar alley. He knew he had turned away from the more familiar streets to avoid running into people (quite literally since he wasn't walking real straight) but he had seemed to take one turn too many. He patted his coat pockets for his phone. Oh right. Left it at the bar.
Chuck turned to go back and head back towards the bar but found his path blocked by two huge guys that looked way too happy to see him. In the back of his mind Chuck knew what was coming, but the drunk part of him didn't much care. Today had been a shit day and he didn't feel like taking part in this bit of New York tourism. He gave the guys an unamused look before turning around again and trying to head the other way.
He really wasn't surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he got turned around yet again.
"Your wallet." Yep, Chuck had guessed that was coming. Today was really the worst fucking day ever. He was almost tempted to explain his day to these two fucks. Maybe they would offer him a pat on the back before they mugged him. Chuck would have appreciated the sympathy.
The talky guy didn't seem to wait for Chuck to comply and grabbed at Chuck's coat roughly in order to get at his pockets. If Chuck had been thinking clearly he would have just given the guy what he wanted and make his way back to the bar for his phone. But he was drunk, and he was depressed and he was angry that today just kept fucking with him more and more. So when the guy tried to manhandle him, Chuck fought back. He shoved the guy away as best as he could his drunken state, slurring out a "Fuck off!" before trying to fight him off again.
He didn't even notice when the second guy reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a gun.
He jolted when he heard a loud bang out of nowhere. For the first few seconds he wasn't sure what had happened. Then he felt intense pain tear through his stomach and he looked down to see his previously white shirt was quickly getting wetter and darker. He brushed his fingers through the mess and when they came up red what had happened really sunk in. Somebody had actually shot him. He was in such shock that he couldn't say anything, do anything, think anything other than that he had been shot and that he was probably going to die in this alley. He barely noticed when his legs gave out and he fell to the ground.
The sounds of the two guys running down the alley were barely audible over the sound of Chuck's heart pounding and his labored breathing. Everything was becoming fuzzy and dark and the pain in his stomach was so bad that Chuck was just praying--yes, praying--for it all to be over already. He couldn't take this anymore. Maybe he'd just be better off de--
He blacked out before he could finish that morbid thought.
[LET ME JUST SAY AGAIN THAT THERE IS SOME VIOLENCE IN THIS POST. NFB, NFI but OOC is OK. Don't worry, he'll be okayish and you'll get an IC e-mail over what happened to him either tomorrow or Friday]
He had no idea why Jenny told Eric what happened but once he knew, everybody knew. And everybody immediately blamed Chuck for everything. Blair blew up at him, Serena was ignoring him, Dan had taken the opportunity to finally punch Chuck in the face after years of threatening to do so and Rufus made it clear he didn't want to see Chuck again. Which was a big deal considering he was married to Chuck's mother. Add that to the fact that Jenny was leaving the city because of what happened and it was pretty much the worst day Chuck had in a while, and it didn't look like it was going to get any better any time soon. He didn't think he had ever felt so lonely in his life. He toyed with the idea of calling someone from Fandom to explain what happened but he didn't know what he'd do if they yelled at him too.
All he could think of to do to deal with it was get incredibly shitfaced and then maybe pass out in one of the empty rooms in the Empire so he wouldn't have to deal with Nate.
The shitfaced part of the plan had worked well. He had a whole club to get wasted in and the news of how Jenny lost her virginity hadn't made Gossip Girl yet, so Chuck was able to get nice and drunk without interruption. Well, save for the constant buzzing of his phone because it looked like Nate wanted to give Chuck a piece of his barely there mind as well. He ended up leaving his phone at the bar when he left. He didn't want to talk to anybody at the moment.
He stumbled out of the bar well after midnight, ignoring people giving him side eye and waving off the limo driver waiting at the entrance. He felt like he couldn't breathe and being trapped in a limo right now seemed like torture. The Empire wasn't all that far. He could walk there. Or, well, he'd walk as far as he could and then when it felt like he could breathe again he'd call a cab or something.
That plan had been working pretty well until Chuck found himself in an unfamiliar alley. He knew he had turned away from the more familiar streets to avoid running into people (quite literally since he wasn't walking real straight) but he had seemed to take one turn too many. He patted his coat pockets for his phone. Oh right. Left it at the bar.
Chuck turned to go back and head back towards the bar but found his path blocked by two huge guys that looked way too happy to see him. In the back of his mind Chuck knew what was coming, but the drunk part of him didn't much care. Today had been a shit day and he didn't feel like taking part in this bit of New York tourism. He gave the guys an unamused look before turning around again and trying to head the other way.
He really wasn't surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he got turned around yet again.
"Your wallet." Yep, Chuck had guessed that was coming. Today was really the worst fucking day ever. He was almost tempted to explain his day to these two fucks. Maybe they would offer him a pat on the back before they mugged him. Chuck would have appreciated the sympathy.
The talky guy didn't seem to wait for Chuck to comply and grabbed at Chuck's coat roughly in order to get at his pockets. If Chuck had been thinking clearly he would have just given the guy what he wanted and make his way back to the bar for his phone. But he was drunk, and he was depressed and he was angry that today just kept fucking with him more and more. So when the guy tried to manhandle him, Chuck fought back. He shoved the guy away as best as he could his drunken state, slurring out a "Fuck off!" before trying to fight him off again.
He didn't even notice when the second guy reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a gun.
He jolted when he heard a loud bang out of nowhere. For the first few seconds he wasn't sure what had happened. Then he felt intense pain tear through his stomach and he looked down to see his previously white shirt was quickly getting wetter and darker. He brushed his fingers through the mess and when they came up red what had happened really sunk in. Somebody had actually shot him. He was in such shock that he couldn't say anything, do anything, think anything other than that he had been shot and that he was probably going to die in this alley. He barely noticed when his legs gave out and he fell to the ground.
The sounds of the two guys running down the alley were barely audible over the sound of Chuck's heart pounding and his labored breathing. Everything was becoming fuzzy and dark and the pain in his stomach was so bad that Chuck was just praying--yes, praying--for it all to be over already. He couldn't take this anymore. Maybe he'd just be better off de--
He blacked out before he could finish that morbid thought.
[LET ME JUST SAY AGAIN THAT THERE IS SOME VIOLENCE IN THIS POST. NFB, NFI but OOC is OK. Don't worry, he'll be okayish and you'll get an IC e-mail over what happened to him either tomorrow or Friday]