The day had been a nice one so far, but it seemed to Serena like that described all of them pretty well. They sort of blurred together after a while -- all afternoons on the beach or spent running around meeting people or coaxing new clothes from the box. It was quiet. Sometimes that suited her.
She hadn't had much luck with the clothes box today, so she was hoping the bookshelf might play it a little nicer when she wandered into the rec room. Instead she found Chuck Bass standing there. The sight of someone from home other than Blair was jarring. For a moment, she simply stared at him, wide-eyed. "Chuck," she said finally, the note of disapproval in her voice comfortingly familiar. "Of all the people this place could throw at me... Well, if you were looking for Ibiza, you're going to be very disappointed."
Chuck looked up from his cell phone, which he'd been turning on and off for the last half hour in the desperate hope of getting some sort of signal. He'd never thought he'd see the day that Serena's holier-than-thou tone might be the tiniest bit comforting.
"If you were waiting for me to throw myself at you, Serena, all you had to do was say the word." He felt more like himself already.
As much as Serena had come to like the island in the last few weeks, there was a weird relief that came with being sure it really was Chuck standing there. She'd never say so, but she smiled, just a little bit, even as she ignored what he'd said.
"There's no reception here," she said, one hand on her hip. "I've tried all over the place -- can't get out so much as a text message. How long have you been here?"
"Too long," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Or more specifically, about an hour." He flipped open his messenger bag and tossed his phone inside, disgusted, before slinging the whole thing to the floor petulantly. "As practical jokes go, this one isn't very funny. If my father got a sense of humor for a wedding present, he'd better be returning it sooner rather than later."
"Well, I'm not sure even the people we know have enough money for that." Serena shook her head, then tossed her hair back over her shoulder. At least he'd taken her word for it. She'd wasted half her battery trying to get any signal.
"My condolences to your new stepmom. Anyone I know or did he have to leave the country to find a bride?" The man only had one expression to go with the millions in his bank account, after all. God, she pitied anyone who married a Bass.
That threw him for a loop. It was no secret that Serena hadn't been thrilled about the marriage, but Chuck was relatively sure that she was too practical to decide to just pretend it hadn't happened. And if she didn't remember the wedding - or even the engagement - then... she hadn't been there for it?
He narrowed his eyes. "How long have you been here?"
Serena raised her brow at him. "About two months?" It sounded longer somehow when she was saying it to Chuck Bass. "It was Thanksgiving when Blair and I got here and now it's, like, June... I don't know how it works, Chuck, just that I'm a little behind on the social news."
"Thanksgiving?" Chuck sounded incredulous. How was that even possible? Then she wouldn't know about Bart and Lily, or everything that had happened with Blair and Nate, or Eric, or Georgina, for god's sake.
This could have a lot of potential.
"Looks like I have about six months to fill you in on," he said. Not that it would come without a price.
"Six months?" Serena had known the timeline or whatever was weird, what with leaving in the fall and turning up in the spring, but it had somehow never struck her that time at home would match the difference, that so much time could have gone by without her. Or with her, but a her who wasn't here and -- anyway, it didn't make any sense. Nothing about it did.
For the first time since she'd made up her mind to see the best in the island, she wanted desperately to go home. "Chuck, no, no -- I've only been here a month and a half. It can't... No, that's not possible."
"Impossible or not, Serena, last time I saw you, you were packing for the Hamptons." He shrugged. "Granted, there seems to be about a month of time that even I can't account for... but still. I'd suggest that you stop expecting this place to make sense. I may have only been here for..." He checked his watch. "an hour and forty-seven minutes, but I know at least that much."
Serena's lips twitched into a small smile. "I guess so," she allowed, hands falling heavily to her hips as she turned her eyes to the ceiling. "After all, you're here." Better to put on a brighter smile and nod along than to keep showing her weaknesses to Chuck. If only Nate had been dropped from wherever, too, they'd be a matched set, she thought, like old times without the old times. It was sort of useless to wish for that, though. At least if she'd been headed to the Hamptons, business as usual, things couldn't have gone too badly.
She sighed softly and nodded to the bags around him. "Looks like you were already out the door."
"The plan had just touched down in Florence," he said mournfully. "I stepped off the jetway, and instead of finding myself at the gate, I ended up in this twisted version of Gilligan's Island." Chuck sighed heavily and, pulling out a chair, sat down. "I'd be tempted to ask what I did to deserve this, but I've got a few dozen ideas about that."
He looked up at her. "You and Blair the only other people we know around?" God forbid someone like Carter Baizen or Whoregina herself show up. This place would be a lot better off if Chuck was the worst from that crowd it had to deal with.
"If we brainstorm, I bet I could come up with a few dozen more," Serena offered. She slipped into a nearby chair, leaning forward against the table. "And Blair, oh, I'm sure she has plenty of ideas." Whatever exactly had happened between Chuck and Blair, it still made Serena uncomfortable. That he was now the only piece of home they really had beyond each other didn't bode well for Blair. "But yeah, it's just us -- with no way home and, apparently, no way to choose who comes here."
"You have no idea," Chuck supplied helpfully with an arched eyebrow. He didn't know how much Blair had told Serena about what had happened, but as long as it was confined to the messy physical details he wasn't concerned. The episode on the rooftop at Blair's birthday party he'd be less pleased about her sharing, but he didn't think there was much danger of that - it was almost as embarrassing for her as it had been for him, after all.
He rummaged through his bag just in case, but no, he hadn't had the foresight to slip any airline-sized bottles of booze from the flight in. Damn. "So is this place only as bad as it looks, or does it somehow manage to actually be worse?"
Serena winced, throwing her hands up in front of her. "And I'd like to keep it that way please," she said, shaking her head. What he and Blair got up to in their spare time was absolutely her business, but that didn't mean she wanted details. "It's... a little of both here. I mean, the people are so nice and the beach is beautiful. But you're stuck and... it's not exactly up to the standards of home in terms of -- well, anything."
"Ugh." Chuck grimaced. "At least you're used to slumming, with all the time you've been spending in Brooklyn. I shudder to think of how Blair must be adjusting." The girl suffered when she was given a less-than-prime table at Butter; this situation must be killing her.
Not to mention the Lexapro. He'd known Blair for long enough that he'd seen what the medication did for her, and what she was like without it. If she and Serena hadn't come here with anything, then there was no way she could still be taking it. "Look, I'm asking you this because we both know she won't tell me: is she holding up all right, even without her pills?"
She hadn't had much luck with the clothes box today, so she was hoping the bookshelf might play it a little nicer when she wandered into the rec room. Instead she found Chuck Bass standing there. The sight of someone from home other than Blair was jarring. For a moment, she simply stared at him, wide-eyed. "Chuck," she said finally, the note of disapproval in her voice comfortingly familiar. "Of all the people this place could throw at me... Well, if you were looking for Ibiza, you're going to be very disappointed."
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"If you were waiting for me to throw myself at you, Serena, all you had to do was say the word." He felt more like himself already.
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"There's no reception here," she said, one hand on her hip. "I've tried all over the place -- can't get out so much as a text message. How long have you been here?"
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"My condolences to your new stepmom. Anyone I know or did he have to leave the country to find a bride?" The man only had one expression to go with the millions in his bank account, after all. God, she pitied anyone who married a Bass.
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He narrowed his eyes. "How long have you been here?"
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This could have a lot of potential.
"Looks like I have about six months to fill you in on," he said. Not that it would come without a price.
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For the first time since she'd made up her mind to see the best in the island, she wanted desperately to go home. "Chuck, no, no -- I've only been here a month and a half. It can't... No, that's not possible."
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She sighed softly and nodded to the bags around him. "Looks like you were already out the door."
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He looked up at her. "You and Blair the only other people we know around?" God forbid someone like Carter Baizen or Whoregina herself show up. This place would be a lot better off if Chuck was the worst from that crowd it had to deal with.
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He rummaged through his bag just in case, but no, he hadn't had the foresight to slip any airline-sized bottles of booze from the flight in. Damn. "So is this place only as bad as it looks, or does it somehow manage to actually be worse?"
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Not to mention the Lexapro. He'd known Blair for long enough that he'd seen what the medication did for her, and what she was like without it. If she and Serena hadn't come here with anything, then there was no way she could still be taking it. "Look, I'm asking you this because we both know she won't tell me: is she holding up all right, even without her pills?"
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