An Inevitable Past

Chapter 1: The Dream

This is it. We're really starting another book again. Don't forget to comment what you think! Any theories about this story's plot?
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October 14, 2009

The young heir of Bass Industries was known for being the so called notorious play boy who laid a hand on every girl that passed by him.

It was not a good phrase to see him as but it was definitely the truest of the true. But even with the games he would play, a lot of people adored him.

His strategic plans and proposals when it came to business were undeniably intelligent and it was very obvious that he'd spend a lot of time working on it.

For his whole life he lived with the disappointment of his father slapped into his face every single day. He figured being the good heir that he wanted him to be would at least make it better.

Surprisingly, it did.

After sending in his Victrola proposal to Bart, which he loved, he was invited to attend this event with his father. After all, his image had been much better and improved.

"It's an auction," were his father's words.

He saw it as an opportunity. A chance to get closer with him once and for all. Bart needed to open his eyes now, and his heart to him. Chuck has been waiting far too long for the moment.

"I'll be there." He tried hard not to sound too excited.

Bart only smiled and nodded. He was wrong for thinking ill of his son. He was truly proud of him this time.

When the day of the auction finally came, Chuck made sure he'd be fully sober and ready. He also made sure he greeted Bart's friends politely.

For the first time in his life he thought he could finally find a good reason to live. He felt better than ever. Until he saw it.

The painting. His knees were shaking as he stared at its beautiful strokes of color. It caught his eye- an understatement.

He froze right in his spot. It was very odd, how he felt suffocated. The painting was definitely something and he needed to have it to himself. It was until the auctioneer yelled sold.

"Charles. Don't just stand there. Mr. Hartwell wants to get to know you." Bart's voice made him flinch. The wide smile of the buyer who successfully got the painting made him furrow his eyebrows.

He managed to get his eyes off of it, turning his attention to Bart's old friends. They got home 2 hours later. His thoughts were filled at the item who had made him feel something indescribable a while ago.

It looked so familiar, so. . . special?

Without hesitation he calls his P.I, Andrew to look into it. Nothing had ever made him feel this way.

"I don't exactly know how to describe it, Andrew but ask the auctioneer from the event. He should know some details. Call me if you find anything." He sighed and ended the call.

The day was wrapping up. He felt his eyes getting heavy, making him drop his tired body on the bed.

Until he slept.

"Why are you laughing?" The voice of the woman who'd spoke just now was high. Her face wasn't visible but he was sure he saw something shiny on top of her head. Like a headband.

"I'm just very pleased to see you paint." He chuckled. In front of him was a half painted canvas. And one was facing her too. They were wearing weird, traditional clothes. They almost looked like Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI.

"I've come to like it. Unlike you, Mr. Bass, I am a beginner in Arts. You have obviously been an artist your whole life." She smiled like a princess.

"That is right. But we've been practicing almost everyday, Miss. Shouldn't you have any progress by now?" He continued teasing. He found it fun, seeing her pout.

"I certainly did have progress. You just don't see it. My paintings are my feelings. A lot do not understand what I am trying to express." She sighed.

"Perhaps you are right. But you are also wrong. I know you. And I know what you're trying to say." His eyes lock with hers and the feeling of electricity rushing through both of their bodies come back.

"Is that so? You should have told me that sooner." She smirked. He secretly loved it when she smirked.

"Please. Do not tell me you were not the one who spilled paint all over the floor yesterday morning." Again, he was true. He always was.

She said nothing. Instead, she focused on the way she blended the colors altogether. If it wasn't for Chuck, her love for Art wouldn't have been developed.

He knew he was wrong though. The way she painted was like no other. It was certainly special and a one of a kind talent he believed only this woman in front of him had.

He felt her staring at him. But he pretended he did not know. Her eyes had that huge effect on him which made him weak.

When he couldn't help it anymore, he had to call her out. "Didn't know you had a staring hobby."

She blinked. But his teasing did not make her look away.

"I would like to paint you someday. Your features are beautiful." The sentence made him look at her. And the face was almost clear. Just not quite.

"As you wish, Miss."

Her face was not visible. But he was very sure she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever 'seen'.

"Get up! Someone's here for you." The sound of Serena's voice made him jump out of bed.

"What the hell, Serena? There's a thing called knocking!" He sat up properly, annoyed at his sister.

The blonde rolled her eyes and looked at him. Her mouth opened a little when he saw his current state.

"Why are you so sweaty? Don't tell me you had sex with someone in your dream? Ugh!" She shivered at what she said. Chuck scoffed and combed his hair with his fingers.

"No, Serena, I did not. I'll be out in a minute." When she didn't move, he grabbed her by the shoulders, leading her to the door.

When she was finally out, he went back to tidying himself. All of a sudden he remembers his weird dream. He may have not seen the girl's face but he was able to take a look at her painting.

And the painting was very familiar.

Who was she? How does he know him? There had to be some kind of connection. All he wanted at that moment were explanations.

He stepped out the door and greeted the person who could only give him the explanations he needed. He held a big briefcase in his hand. He was dressed in a black suit, he looked more like a business partner than a personal investigator.

"Andrew. What did you find?"
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I do not know a lot about History. I've tried to do my research about what the rich people were called in the 1800s but I found nothing so I went with Miss and Mr.