steampunk love affair

chapter seven:party

Chapter seven: party

Nate was having a party only problem chuck and blair had broken up after eleanor and bart refused them to get married and chuck was not in the mood for a party

Esme was in italy doing a photoshoot for her mother's new book the lost time watch

And Nate,? Well...

Man, I thought you were done moping," Nate joked. "Hell, I thought the only reason you decided to stay for the White Party was because you just had to be right about Blair's new boyfriend."

"Boy-toy," Chuck said hastily, glaring at Nate for describing that foreign idiot as Blair's boyfriend.

Being a boyfriend meant they were in a relationship, and that wasn't a thought Chuck would allow entrance. He wanted to be in a relationship with Blair.

He cringed inside at that word. He was still surprised Serena hadn't laughed at him the other morning when he'd said something about getting relationship advice from her. He didn't even think that word was in his vocabulary.

"Whatever," Nate shrugged. "What happened? Blair threw a wrench into your plans? Wasn't it something along the lines of revealing the guy was a fake, then being there to pick up the pieces or something? I didn't think I'd find you alone at the bar. But, then, you at a bar? Nothing really surprising about that."

Chuck, once again, glared at his best friend. "She goes across an ocean, travels through Italy and France, and somehow manages to find the British version of you. Minus the effing title, of course." Except Blair had practically already dubbed Nate 'Prince' in her fucking head.

"Wait, title?" Nate shook his head. "What?"

"Little Jamie Ripley appears to have more talent than I first gave him credit for," Chuck said, disgusted. "Seems what we got was a Dickie pretending to be a Tom, not the other way around."

"Whoa, hold up," Nate said, actually holding up a hand as he laughed. "Now you're speaking an entirely different language."

"Jude Law? Matt Damon?" Chuck winced. Why the hell was he using movie analogies to explain things to Nate? Nate could barely remember Blair's favorite movies, and she'd been drilling them into his head for years. There was no way Nate would remember that Tom Ripley kills Dickie Greenleaf and took over his life. Why the hell did he even remember this? "The phony call-boy was pretending to be an American college student. He's actually a British lord named Marcus." He practically spat out the name.

"Whoa," Nate shook his head. "Sorry man," Nate said with a laugh of comradeship.

"What the hell is so funny about this?" Chuck stared him down.

"The whole turning of the tables thing," Nate shrugged. "A year ago, I was complaining about Blair while you listened. Role reversal."

"Yeah, except you didn't want to be with her," Chuck rolled his eyes.

"Cheer up," Nate laughed again. "If he's like me, there's always the chance he'll sleep with Serena. Then she'll get over him real fast."

"You're not helping," Chuck seriously considered dumping a bottle of Vitaminwater on Nate's head. He wasn't helping at all, and he kept bringing up things that happened when Blair was dating him—something that Chuck didn't want to think about either. Hell, he didn't even know if Nate and Blair had ever sorted things out. He was hoping they never spoke again, but it seemed less likely considering the role reversal with Nate as his best friend and Blair as his…

Well, no, there was no role reversal. Because he didn't have Blair. Blair had someone else. She didn't want him.

No, that wasn't true.