An Inevitable Past

Chapter 5: The Portal

We've come to the part where the story gets confusing so please read it all and not skip a word because I'm not that good at writing and explaining which is why this story will really need your attention :D
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October 17, 2009

Chuck awoke. It was 12 in the morning. For some reason his king sized bed felt very uncomfortable to sleep on, making him stand up for a glass of water.

He downs it in one go, and returns to his bed shortly. He stops when he sees the landscape in front of his bed again.

His room was dark but it looked so clear in his eyes. Every detail, every stroke, every color. It glowed. He stepped closer, his eyebrows knit into a line when he saw that it really did have a bright light in the middle of the canvas.

Not knowing what to do, he stares for a while, looking at it in different kinds of angles. He rubs his eyes, convincing himself it was just a dream or lack of sleep. But whenever he'd open them back the light still stayed.

His hand slowly rises, tempted to try and touch it. His fingers were shaking as it slowly came in contact with the light.

Suddenly his vision goes blank. The world around him turned and for a moment he was dizzy. The air was cold. He could not see anything except he knew that he was going forward, this force pushing him to a direction he did not control.

Chuck's eyes were open but the white light hurt too much he had to close them again.

October 05, 1800

He thumped onto the ground and that was where everything stopped. The turning, the pushing, the lights. They were all gone and his vision went back to normal now.

What wasn't normal was his surroundings. It was definitely not his room, nor his house. Thankfully he was still in his own clothes, in some pajamas. But pajamas did not suit the location.

The room looked traditional, and old. The walls were brown and a bit dusty. It was huge, a shelf of books occupying majority of the space.

Chuck glides his finger to the old books, reading some of their titles.

How the hell did I get here? Chuck thought. He found no one to answer his question. It must have been related to the painting, though. Somehow he was not that scared to be in the room, desperate for answers.

Someone knocks. And he hesitates whether he should answer it because he doesn't know any of the people who lived in this. . . strange house.

So he asks, "Who is it?"

There's a moment of silence before the person behind his double doors answer. "It's Arthur, Sir."

His driver?

"Come in." He says, hearing the sound of the door open shortly after. "Do you need anything, Arthur?" He decides to act normal. Not ask him about this place because it seemed like he'd been living here for a long time but it's a different timeframe.

Perhaps the past Chuck Bass lived in this house. But why was he here? He was supposed to be in the future, making up theories about the strange painting that had caught his eyes in the span of 3 seconds.

Arthur gives him a weird look. "You asked for me, Sir. Your mother has also asked me to bring you your tea." He says, showing him the cup.

Chuck's mouth opens a little, speechless. "Oh! Right. I need you. . . " He thinks for a moment. Who was he kidding. He was in the middle of processing what just happened. He certainly did not need his driver who was dressed in a weird outfit too, in his room.

But again, he couldn't risk getting caught. He needed his answers.

". . . tell my mother I want to take her out tomorrow. For a little stroll." He says, curious if his so called mother was Lily or someone else.

"Immediately, Sir. Goodnight." Arthur bows and leaves the room, Chuck sighs in relief, sitting down on his surprisingly comfortable bed, looking forward for tomorrow and the days to come.

He felt good to be in that place, but he couldn't ignore that strange beating of his heart everytime he was alone.

"Who are you." Once again, he mutters under his breath. He knew. He just knew it wasn't just that painting that made him feel like it.

It wasn't the colors or the canvas or the image. It was the person behind it. He just needed to know who.

He wasn't sure how long he'd be here. But he figured it wouldn't be soon enough. For now he needed a good night sleep for a day to spend with whoever his mother was in this 'era'.

Blair, on the other hand, was smiling like a fool in front of her big mirror. Dorota was behind her, brushing her hair to avoid tangles in the morning.

"So you approve of Mr. Chuck?" The maid asks. Blair takes a deep breath and thinks about her day a while ago with him.

"He's decent enough, I guess." The brunette shrugs. It wasn't awkward. In fact, she felt so comfortable around him. And that was very important for Blair. She wouldn't be able to survive with someone who'd be the opposite of her personality.

She'd describe him as arrogant and boastful but it didn't seem to bother her. Well, maybe a bit.

She was still scared to commit into such a big step in her life.

"I'm too young, aren't I, Dorota? Should I take this engagement as a compliment from my mother for thinking I'm capable to be a woman? Or should I be offended because she still thinks I'm incapable of deciding for my own." She eyes Dorota from the mirror.

Guiltily, the maid looks down at her curls, feeling bad for the young lady in front of her. "Miss Blair, you are capable of anything. You shouldn't base that by the doings of your mother. I believe you will make a good mother and a good wife to Mr. Chuck."

"But what if I don't fall in love with him? He has an annoying side, too. If only you saw how much of a-" She didn't dare to continue her sentence.

There was no word to describe him. But she had to admit, he was decent enough. The idea of him teaching her how to make art- to paint, it was exciting.

And she was looking forward to it. Even if it had to be with him.
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