Attention → N. Archibald [Gossip Girl] (undergoing editing)

Chapter 7

Chuck

"What happened to her?" Bart asked the doctor.
We were at the hospital right now, waiting for Leah to wake up.

A few hours ago I went into her suite when I found her sprawled on the floor. I didn't know what to do and panicked. I eventually called 911 and they came with a stretcher in a few minutes.

"It's just her anorexia acting up again. This isn't a good sign. I would suggest that you get her problem treated at a rehabilitation centre. Perhaps the Ostroff Centre. They have the best doctors and she can recover faster. Your daughter needs to improve her eating habits." The doctor said.
"What do you mean 'eating habits'?" I asked her, puzzled.

"Your sister has anorexia. She starves herself for days put together. Did you know about this, Mr. Bass?" He said to Bart.

"Well of course I knew. I just thought it wasn't that big of a deal." Bart said.
"You knew?" I asked, appalled.
"I'll leave the two of you to talk it through." The doctor left.
"Sure it's not that big of deal. Let's just let her starve herself to death and pretend we're the most devoted family in the entire world on the day of her funeral." I said sarcastically.

"I can't deal with this right now. I havework and no time on my hands. If the Ostroff Centre will help then-" my selfish father was saying.
I guess owning a company doesn't make people smart.
"Your daughter is fucking dying in there and all you care about is your work?" I cut him off.
"Charles, language." Bart warned.
"Or what?" I challenged.
"Just go talk to her, please. I need to know what's going on." Bart said.

"Oh, really? Why do you care? Go back to office and finish your work. She's nothing compared to your business right?" I spat.
"We both know that you're the only person that she'll listen to."

Leah

Where am I?  There's a needle in my hand and the machine is beeping in an annoying way. I'm wearing a blue gown and the room smells so... sterile. I look down at my hand, to see an IV needle in it.

Was I in a hospital?

A doctor walked in with a tall, dude in a suit followed him. My vision was so fuzzy I couldn't even recognize who it was.
"Dad?" I asked.
"Leah, we need to talk to you."  Bart said.
"You were out for almost eighteen hours. This isn't something we take lightly, Leeandra. You hit your head hard when you fell. Results say that the only thing in your system was a coffee you drank yesterday." The doctor said.

"So we've decided to get you treated at the Ostroff Centre." Bart completed.
"You cant be serious!" I protested, on the verge of tears.
"It's for you own good. Please just don't be difficult for once in your life and listen to me."

I took a deep breath.
"Just go. I don't want to talk to you." I snapped.
"I don't care. You're still going." He called out while exiting.

"Honestly, the fuck is wrong with him?" I rolled my eyes as Chuck entered.
"Oh, he's got work." Chuck imitated Bart.
"That's so typical." I said, disgusted.
"You know, you're literally disintegrating. And what's with that tattoo on your inner thigh?" he asked cockily.
"Ew, you perv. Please tell me you didn't see it." I laughed.

"No, I haven't. I would love to, though." He smirked.
"You are repulsive." I continued laughing, playing along with his sick little joke.
"I know. So why be shy?"
"Get out."
"Really, Lee, start eating. Do you even know how this affects your entire body?" he said, getting serious.

"Stop. If I wanted to be lectured, I would've just asked Bart  to stay."
"Everything's not a joke, you know?"
"Well, to me it is." I shot back, a little ruder than expected.

"I tried." Chuck sighed and walked out.
"Oh no." I murmured, as I buried my head in my hands. I had made a mess, and this one wasn't very easy to clean up.