𝐈𝐳𝐳𝐲 ❤︎︎

If I’m being honest, I have no idea where to start. There is so much I wanna say to you. But on the other hand I know, I won’t ever send this to you. Or to anybody else. Because I’m not brave enough, because I often feel like I talk/write way too much. And you were the first, who gave me the feeling that I didn’t. But looking at your last messages, I feel like you were secretly annoyed too. You couldn’t even use correct simple grammar. The whole message sounded like you just wanted to write something to shut me up. The whole autumn seemed so incredible, I constantly thought ‚If I told that Summer-Izzy’. Summer-Izzy who added you, after she convinced herself for a week. Who thought maybe this time it could be something and almost fell unconscious when she saw that you texted her. Summer-Izzy had her first kiss as Autumn-Izzy. Winter Izzy hates Autumn-Izzy, just as much as she hates Summer-Izzy. Because they were dumb. They were naive. I thought this between us was really something. After all those idiots (with few exceptions), that I got to know before you. I even told you about them, one of those nights, when you stayed over till 1 AM. If I recall it correctly, you told me, you were even worse than those idiots. I didn’t believe you and told you to stop talking such nonsense. In short: You were right. And this hurts. Because I defended you, in front of my parents, my friends and also myself. Because you did things, no one had ever done before. Brought me things, called me sweetest names, laughed at my stupid jokes, you offered me help in a subject in which you were much better than me (and now I never get to tell you the grade I got, that was surprisingly good, considering the fact that I thought I wrote the biggest bullshit - giving Driver‘s License by Olivia Rodrigo, doesn’t it?), you stole my first kiss, made compliments, asked for consent, told me about private things. Was this just a trick? Did you never feel anything at all? You told me that there were many private things you had to deal with (you even told me exactly what it was, but I‘m not gonna say this here) and you said you felt like an idiot for giving me hope, even though you said you weren’t the guy for a relationship. Then why didn’t you stop there? Why even text me in the first place? Was I just some fun? I don’t even wanna think about it, because that would mean I‘d lost my first kiss to an asshole. And this thought makes me sick to my stomach. I remember how you compared me to the Cheshire Cat, said you liked my smirk. You didn’t even have to look at my face to know it was there. You loved how my hair smelled, how soft it was. When we didn’t meet up one night, because you were at a party and I was busy, you told me you missed me that evening. That‘s not something someone who only wants some fun would do, right? Except that thing with the kiss mark on my neck. But what do I know? Winter-Izzy wants to go back to Summer-Izzy and stop her. But she can’t. Instead she has flashbacks. Kisses in the hallway, how you lifted me up in my room, how you were so sweet. And I miss it. It breaks my heart. I could cry. I am. Out of sadness, disappointment, anger. I‘d never tell my friends or family. Because I don’t want to get on their nerves. I think I have to do this on my own. I hope you‘ll find yourself out someday. I hope you‘ll be happy. And maybe next time you won’t make someone‘s autumn the best time of their lives just to let them crash down in winter. I genuinely don’t think you meant to harm me. But you did. And I still love you. So much that, if you‘d apologize and tell me you‘ve changed right now, I‘d take you back. I asked you to tell me the truth, if something bothered you. You said you understood. Then why did I have to text you first to get the truth? I told you it made me overthink when people wouldn’t answer and get quiet, because that’s how I had lost people before. You said you understood. Then did the same. I don’t know what I should write anymore. I think I‘ve said everything and still it feels like I‘ve said nothing at all.

A glass of champagne in my hand, I linger at the edge of the room, feeling a little lost, while I watch all the pairs dance and talk. I see my brother, standing at the opposite side of the room, his mask is inspired by the Phantom of the Opera, the lights of the room mirroring in the silver of the mask. Shouldn’t he be looking out for Blair?

But before I can continue to marvel at what’s wrong, I feel a presence next to me, one that sends shivers down my spine. The scent of his cologne surrounds me, achingly familiar.

Chuck Bass, wearing the red mask of the Devil himself. Fitting, isn’t it? "Chuck,"I greet him with a thin smile. "Little Liz," he answers, and I don’t even have to look at him to know that his lips are curved up in that characteristic charming smile of his. "All alone?" he adds. "Not at all, I mean I have this charming glass of champagne to keep me company," I reply with a smirk.

"I‘m not entirely sure if Nate would like to see his little sister drinking alcohol when she‘s barely sixteen," Chuck states, looking down at me. His words almost make me roll my eyes. "Come on, you’re exaggerating - I‘m not even a year younger than you guys!" I answer, before I take another sip of the alcohol. "Just stating," Chuck mumbles nonchalantly.

The next words he says make my heart race more than they should. I can only pray that he doesn’t hear it, considering how close he is standing to me. "Don‘t tell your brother that I said it, but you look wonderful tonight, darling," he whispers, his voice soft like silk. "What, Chuck? You don’t have any other girls hanging on your every word? Are you really that desperate that you need to make moves on your best friend‘s sister?" I question, as I look at him.

Chuck laughs, which sends another shiver down my spine - I have no idea, how he’s even doing that. But at the same time I remember that this is Chuck Bass. He and his special talent to make women feel like queens, even just for one night and to get them right where he wants them - his bed.

My breath hitches when I suddenly feel his hand wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer. I want to protest, but at the same time I feel my body relaxing. What a traitor. "Oh Little Liz, I might be a player, but Nate would kill me if he saw me ruining his sweet, innocent sister. Even though I must admit, it’s rather tempting," he whispers into my ear.

My eyes dart around anxiously, searching for Nate. I don’t know who‘d be more screwed if Nate saw us. Chuck, obviously flirting with me even though I‘m clearly off limits? Or me, letting it happen without any resistance? The silver gleam of my brother‘s mask is nowhere to be seen in the chattering and dancing crowd of high society teens in the elegant room. I wonder if it’s just imagination or if the music got slightly louder over time.

A couple stumbles past us, deep in a kiss. The smell of alcohol around them makes me wrinkle my nose. "Disgusting" I mumble quietly. It’s meant more to myself, but of course Chuck heard it - which actually isn’t much of a surprise, considering how close he’s standing to me. A few centimeters more and we actually might kiss. And somehow the thought of his lips against mine doesn’t trigger aversion - more of an exciting sparkle.

I hear Chuck‘s quiet laughter in my ear, which pulls me back to reality, out of my thoughts. "You’re not much of a drinker, huh Liz?" he asks as he casually takes the champagne glass out of my hand, before he drinks a few sips of it. I want to protest, but I know there‘s no chance I‘ll get my glass back unless Chuck decides it. Instead I choose to answer his question. "No, I don’t drink often. Mostly because I don’t like the taste," I say.

Chuck smirks, I can see his elegant lips curving under his mask. "Oh come on… you can’t call yourself a real Upper East Sider rich kid if you never drunk yourself into absolute oblivion," he says laughing. I roll my eyes. "I‘m not you, Chuck. In case you forgot," I respond dryly.

Mockingly Chuck holds a hand over his heart as if I‘ve stabbed him there with my words. "Ouch, Lizzie. This is all that I am to you? A rich kid that likes to get drunk?" he asks, his voice filled with fake hurt.

"Actually you forgot 'junkie' and 'manwhore'" I add casually. Chuck, who has just taken a sip of my champagne, almost chokes on it from his sudden laughter. "Wow, wow, wow… since when do you use words like this?" he chuckles. "I‘m sixteen, Chuck, not ten," I mumble in annoyance. "I see that," he answers with a wink, his gaze drifting down my curves, as a smirk spreads across his face.

"Believe me, little Liz, I‘m not the only guy who has noticed that Nate‘s little sister has grown up… but I‘m the only one who can really appreciate it. Could make you feel better than all those other stupid upper class idiots," he adds, his smirk widening. Meanwhile, I casually grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a sip. Now it’s me who almost chokes on the champagne, coughing and trying not to spill it all over myself and my dress.

Chuck next to me, bursts into laughter. Of course, he has me exactly where he wants me - falling for his words. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks, a stark contrast to the white of my dress. I can only pray that my mask covers enough of my face so it’s not visible. But when I finally stop coughing and look up at Chuck, the grin on his face tells me without any doubt, that I must look like a tomato.

"Fuck you!" I call out, staring at him angrily. "Sorry, Little Liz, sorry," he says between fits of laughter. It’s clearly visible that he’s the opposite of sorry. A few of the people around us turn to look, watching with judgmental gazes through their masks. My cheeks burn even hotter, but finally Chuck decides that he’s laughed enough at my embarrassment. "So, Lizzie? Wanna go outside a bit? Nice view over NY at night, no judging eyes… besides, I could really go for a joint right now," Chuck asks, a small smirk still on his lips, while he extends his hand in my direction.

I glance around in the grand ballroom for a moment, watching all the couples gazing at each other lovingly and hearing their laughter. I don’t really feel like going outside, but I know that I‘ll be alone again if I refuse Chuck‘s request. And somehow, I don’t want to be standing all alone on the edge of the ball room anymore. So I simply nod, take Chuck‘s outstretched hand and follow him out of the door and up the stairs onto the rooftop of the building.

The cold night air sends shivers down my spine, but somehow it doesn’t seem to affect me. The only thing that lights up the rooftop are the full moon in the sky and the few stars shining around it. We search for a quiet corner, where I can see the cars deep down in the streets of the Upper East Side.

When I feel myself getting anxious, I take a step away from the edge - fear of highs in NY is kinda unpractical. I watch Chuck, who took off his mask already, as he lights his joint. He extends his hand to me, offering me to take a hit, but I shake my head.

"Suit yourself," he mumbles before he inhales it. Meanwhile I‘ve decided to take off my mask too. Why wait until midnight if we both know each other anyway? Besides it started to get uncomfortable anyway. When I glance back at Chuck, he‘s already staring at me and it might be imagination, but I swear he’s got an almost fascinated look in his eyes.

"You’re beautiful," he mumbles suddenly and if I didn’t know it better, I would’ve never imagined that this is Chuck Bass. The guy I’ve known my whole life. He would never ever call a girl 'beautiful'. 'Hot' or 'Sexy' maybe, but calling me beautiful goes in a completely und unexpected different direction.

I could blame his joint on it, but at the same time I‘m more than just sure that he hasn’t smoked enough of it to show serious effects. I know how he gets when he’s high and this is different. I don’t know how to answer him, so a strange silence settles between us, only broken by the sound of cars driving in the illuminated streets of NY and the chatting of the people, who are walking in said streets.

"I’m not trying to sweet-talk you, Liz. I mean every word," he adds into the quiet. I swallow. His words make my heart race faster than it should. Too fast. And it’s that moment in which I realize that I‘ve always got more than just friendly feelings for Chuck Bass. My brother‘s best friend. The guy who always was off limits to me.

"Fuck it,"I mumble and then I get on my tiptoes, close the distance between me and him by wrapping my arms around his neck, before press my lips against his. He doesn’t even strain when I pull him down on my level, but instead he drops his joint, leans into me and kisses me back. It’s not my first kiss, though it certainly feels like the first one that truly matters. Not just because Chuck absolutely knows what he’s doing (of course he does, otherwise he wouldn’t be Chuck Bass), but also because the butterflies in my stomach seem to fly around like crazy, while at the same time an unexpected calm spreads through me.

It’s a strange mix, a warm sensation deep inside of me, that I wouldn’t want to let that go ever again, not for any price in this world. This is more than just a simple boring kiss with some simple boring guy, it’s more of a moment, something like a core memory, that I‘ll never forget.

I feel his hands on my back, his fingers grazing over my hip gently, holding me close to him. The grip is confident, like I‘d expect it from Chuck. But at the same time it’s loose enough to let me go, whenever I feel like backing out. Which is actually the opposite of what I want.

Instead I press myself closer to him, deepening the kiss, while my heart feels like it’s about to explode. It‘s like everything is frozen in time, this is all I ever wanted and a few seconds ago I didn’t even know that.

But then out of nowhere a light flashes, breaking the magic of the scene abruptly. The warmth that the kiss triggered vanished with the dazzling light, that broke the darkness and also the comfortable, mysterious atmosphere, which almost seemed to protect Chuck and me.

Chuck and I stop kissing, freezing like deers caught in the headlight. While I need a few seconds to realize what just happened - I kissed my brother‘s best friend- Chuck immediately analyzes every little detail of the situation. It doesn’t take him long to understand what just happened. "Shit, that was the fucking flashlight of a camera," Chuck hisses.

Horrified I stare at him, knowing that his realization must be right. A single glance is enough to decide our next step. Immediately we both make our way to the stairs, we came up, the only way that leads up to the roof of the building. But what we see is disappointing. The staircase is empty, the cold metal only lit up by the moon’s glow.

Whoever took the photo is long gone, already back inside, blending in with the other masked rich kids at the party. Two thoughts keep lingering in my head, signaling like a blinking neon sign at a shady club. The first is a pounding question. Who the hell was it? The second one is an assumption, which makes me feel sick to my stomach. If those photos won’t end up on Gossip Girl‘s new post, then she must be insane to let a scandal like this slide.

𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝: Chuck Bass, caught red-handed—and red-lipped—with none other than Elizabeth Archibald. Oh Liz, breaking the rules never looked so good. But big brothers don’t like surprises… and something tells me the fallout will be delicious.