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Post by Chuck Bass on May 24, 2009 19:14:11 GMT -5
*Though it didn't help much, Chuck appreciated her attempts at lightening the mood. The rest of the car ride back to his hotel room remained quiet. Once there, he picked up his mail and headed straight up to his room... though he didn't know why; it wasn't like he was going to sleep at all.
He took off his jacket, sat down and looked through his mail. There were four envelopes: two from his accountant, one from a financial adviser and that last one...*
"Adrienne," *he said, handing her the envelope.*
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Post by Adrienne on May 24, 2009 21:53:37 GMT -5
"It's my father's lawyer..." *She said, frowning as she turned it over and read the return address. When she read it, the contents prompted her to sit down, and read through it again. Suddenly her heart felt like a vacuum, and she was light headed and might throw up and her pulse was a mile a minute and...*
*The letter fluttered to the ground.*
"My..."
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Post by Chuck Bass on May 24, 2009 22:12:14 GMT -5
*Chuck watched it all with both confusion and worry. Instead of asking her to explain further, he picked up the letter and read it...
He was, for once in his life, speechless.*
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Post by Adrienne on May 24, 2009 22:15:42 GMT -5
"Papa... il est mort. Mort? Mort. Mort." *It was as if she had to repeat it to remind herself.* "C'est pas possible."
*There was an incredulous note to her voice--her papa couldn't be dead. He was the one who had lived, the one who took care of her, the one who...*
*She could only stare forward, at the wall.*
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Post by Chuck Bass on May 24, 2009 22:24:35 GMT -5
*He had to consciously push back memories of when he had received news of his father's death. Chuck didn't know what to do with her and felt a tinge of panic course through him as he realized. Why were things falling apart now?
He stood there in awkward silence though his mind was racing, trying to figure out what to do.*
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Post by Adrienne on May 24, 2009 22:26:07 GMT -5
*She gasped, standing.*
"I need to, I need to get home; Nicki will already be--oh God, Nicki is having to deal with this alone and-"
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Post by Chuck Bass on May 24, 2009 22:30:11 GMT -5
*He wanted to explain to her that she couldn't because his jet wouldn't be ready for a while and that the best thing for her now would be to stay here. But all that came out of his mouth was--*
"Sit down."
*His tone was stern and quiet and he cursed himself for being unable to come up with anything else.*
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Post by Adrienne on May 24, 2009 22:40:02 GMT -5
"Who are you to tell me what to--"
*But it wasn't his fault. It wasn't him she should snap at; he shouldn't take the blame for this. She turned her head to face him.*
"I--I just don't know what to..." *Think? Do? Say? There were a lot of answers.*
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Post by Chuck Bass on May 26, 2009 23:58:31 GMT -5
*Sleep was out of the question that night. He sat up with a bottle of wine, wandered down to the lobby, walked back upstairs and made sure to avoid her, the entire time, wondering what the right thing to do was. Should he leave her alone or try to comfort her? He did everything but sleep. When morning came, he was relieved.*
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Post by Adrienne on May 31, 2009 20:58:36 GMT -5
*She hadn't slept either, but her time had been spent staring. Looking forward, into a future that did not contain her father, and looking back, into the past that did. It still hadn't sunk in by morning, and she was up earlier than natural for her, packing. She'd have to go home, of course.*
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jun 7, 2009 23:48:27 GMT -5
*Chuck had made some phone calls by himself and began packing his things along with hers without her permission.*
"The plane'll be ready by three," *he told her in passing, hoping she wouldn't say anything in response. He couldn't handle it.*
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Post by Adrienne on Jun 7, 2009 23:51:56 GMT -5
*She looked blankly at the grapefruit she was supposed to be eating and nodded without much feeling. She wasn't sure if she could speak.*
*Of course she had noticed when he'd begun packing her things, and there was a silent sort of comfort she took in it--even if he refused to say anything, he was trying. She thought.*
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jun 8, 2009 17:48:16 GMT -5
***TIMESKIP... AGAIN***
*And so 3 P.M. finally came and they both got into his jet to fly back to Paris. He was silent the entire plane ride and purposely kept him mind blank. Drinking was out of the question: that would be just as obvious as going up and talking her about what he felt... and he couldn't have that.*
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Post by Blair Waldorf on Jan 7, 2010 17:29:30 GMT -5
**A FEW YEARS LATER**
She'd probably be thrown out of the party soon. The only reason people invited her was because Serena (who was an infuriatingly good friend for someone who outshone her in every way imaginable) made them, and she'd had at least five martinis. Gin. Shaken, with only one olive.
After seven, hopefully she could forget that she was a complete, pathetic failure. Probably she'd just throw up.
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Post by Chuck Bass on Jan 7, 2010 17:42:40 GMT -5
Business had brought Chuck clear across the pond again. Why his company couldn't embrace video conferences were completely beyond him.
His trip hadn't been all that great: meetings and countless corporate luncheons and brunches packed his schedule. Plus, he didn't exactly leave Frances and Adrienne on the best of terms. Despite all this, Chuck managed to stay professional and focused; not without much effort to compartmentalize, of course.
This party was a bit better than the one he had been to two days before. It had less of a mandatory business feel and more of a social air to it. He had actually caught up with an old mate and struck up a conversation. After a few minutes, they both moved over to the bar to grab a drink.
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