The Empty Glass|| GOSSIP GIRL

Prologue I

Money is happiness. It's what makes the world go around. With money, you feel like your glass is full. That ten centimeter scotch glass that you chug down each morning, the glass that keeps you going and makes you feel so incredibly exquisite that you know for at least the next twenty four hours of the day, with that glass of scotch, you are worry free. Imagine depending on that glass. Imagine being so afraid to let go of something that by the thought of that fear, you replace your object of savory with another. Welcome to the life of Charles Bartholomew Bass. An incredibly rich, privileged boy, that has lived nothing but plain misery his whole life. Being the son of the man that had built the Manhattan Skyline, you may observe this as a privilege. Don't get me wrong, it was indeed. Being the son of Bartholomew Bass meant being invited to the most elegant parties for the upper class, unlimited amount of strip clubs and of course, unlimited amount of scotch. Let us not forget, receiving great education from the best Ivy League private high school there was in New York City. We are all aware that New York is a city filled with the greatest opportunities. If so, then why had Charles never been motivated? He was the son of one of the richest man in New York City for God sake. Why not take the advantage? It's not like he didn't have the opportunity to do so. When Charles was just a young boy, and by young I mean the second he was born, he had lost his mother, Evelyn Bass. The wife of the richest man of New York and now, the dead mother to her son. Evelyn was the only women that ever had influence on Bartholomew Bass, she was the only one he ever truly loved. Of course, Bartholomew Bass had the privilege of being with any lady he had set his eyes on. I am sure you understand the opportunities money brings. Yet with all the opportunities, he only ever had eyes for her. Her rich brown eyes filled with sweet honey, honey just as sweet as her. Her long light brown hair that she always kept up,and the cheekbones given to her by the holy gods above. To Bartholomew, Evelyn was everything. Frankly, when she passed away, as Charles grew, the resemblance of Evelyn became more visible through Charles. Her sweet honey eyes that would have the shiniest sparkle to them, you would assume someone had placed a diamond in her eye. Her light brown hair, her exquisite face structure, all that Charles had received from her. You may find that comforting to a father, that his son was the male replica of the love of his life. For Bart, that was never the case. The great resemblance caused an unhealthy relationship between Charles and Bart. A relationship so terrifying that Bart would refuse to spend time with Charles. Always working, while Charles spent quality time with his italian nanny, Gina Torra. Every single morning, he would wake up to the sound of the elevator door of their suite at the New York Palace Hotel opening and closing. The little ding that went off when the doors opened and the slow shutting of the doors as they closed. The first day of his every grade year, he got a simple "Don't disappoint me," and was left alone, once again. As he grew, not only was the presence of his father rare, but he had also lost a nanny as well. Bart had assumed Charles was too old for a nanny. He was twelve, it was time to grow up. He was left alone with his full glass of scotch, the only thing in his life that had ever been there for him through it all. Excluding Nathaniel Archibald, his best friend. Although they were two different people, they grew up together and were raised with the same privileges money brings. But even Nathaniel never understood Charles. Why spend so much time at strip clubs when you don't want to appear as a disappointment to your father? Nathaniel thought. Although Nathaniel never really knew, let alone, understand how Charles felt, he certainly knew that Bart was a cold man. A man so cold he could be mistaken with ice. After all, that was the shade of his eyes. Blue eyes so cold they could be mistaken for the Arctic Ocean. Nathaniel's parents knew Bart their whole life, he was never like this. At least not when Evelyn was around. "Give him time," they explained. How about 17 years? Is that enough time? The coldness and distance of his father made Charles presume that Bart blamed Charles for Evelyn's passing. After all, if Evelyn never gave birth to Charles, she would have never passed, and Bart would never be left with a disappointment of a son. For 17 years, Charles was incapable of love. Love isn't real. It's all a phase, Charles assumed. In order to be capable of love, you have to experience it and how it feels yet frankly, Charles never had the chance to receive this feeling. His father surely never made him feel "loved." Maybe Gina loved me? After all, she did take care of me for 12 years, thought Charles. No, but that would simply be naive of me to think so. She was paid to take care of me. She couldn't possibly love me if she was paid to do so, Charles rethought. In need of a glass, Charles? Maybe even two, if you wish. Who cares? Your father simply never did. If your father couldn't care, what makes you think others could? First drink, second, the third, fourth, fifth.

II