Tree Hill is just a place

Life is short. Peyton's first encounter with that notion happened when she was eight and one red light took away one of the most important people in her life. It happened again later when she thought her father had been lost at sea, and once more when she found out about Ellie's sickness. Now that the wound was fresh again, Peyton thought about everything that had happened since school started, and she realized that, as angry as she was at Haley (because everyone else she'd made peace with, or at least made non-aggression), they had once been close. She still didn't approve of what Haley had done, but she should at least let the prodigal wife know that she wasn't going to judge her anymore.

Peyton picked a day she knew Brooke wouldn't be home to go to the apartment and at least try. She knocked, then, and waited.

( It's part of my look now. Can't just drop it and seem like a poser. )

The hotel room door opened just as Peyton was going to knock on it, and she found herself staring straight at Ellie. The older woman drew in a breath, expression neutral and defenses up. Keeping a hand on the doorframe, she lifted an eyebrow Peyton. "I'll be gone soon," she stated, voice almost sharp, as though answering a question she'd been asked a million times. "I overslept and missed check-out. Figure if I'm paying for the extra night, I may as well stay for it."

( It's borderline sob story, and I know you hate those. )

Luke decided that his conversation with Chris hadn't exactly gone anywhere. Keeping true to his slimy nature, Chris wasn't going to back off of Brooke. So Luke decided he had to go to the source. Maybe all Brooke needed was someone to talk to. He had vowed to be a better friend, and this was him, trying to be friends with her. Maybe she'd see things his way. Either way, he had to try.

He knew Haley wasn't home because she was working at the cafe, and he was pretty sure Brooke was home. Knocking on the door to her apartment, he waited.

( And what's better? You? You want me to pine for you? )

After Luke left Peyton's, he racked his brain on where he could find Chris. At Brooke and Haley's? No, Brooke wouldn't dare. Lucas had no idea where Chris lived or where asshole musicians would dwell. Except ... wait, the record store that Peyton was in love with. That's where they'd originally met, right? It was a leap in the dark, but there was a chance. He drove over, parked and went in. He didn't really expect Chris to be there but somehow, amazingly, he was. He didn't attempt to stop and think about his words before they spilled out. Chris was bent over some CDs so Luke shut the door hard so the sound would catch his attention. "Stay the hell away from Brooke."

The slamming of the door made Chris almost drop the CD he'd just picked up. He looked over his shoulder once Lucas had finished talking. "You speakin' on her behalf?"

( Says the guy who told her he loved her and then went off with another girl? Really, man )

"I'm such a bitch." Peyton collapsed onto Lucas' bed, staring up at the ceiling and sighing. "My dad's only here for six more days, and it's been so awkward since the other day." She turned her head to face Luke, sighing again. "I'm sorry you have to listen to this."

"I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this," he joked, glancing at her from his desk chair. He shut his laptop lid -- he had just been working on some sentences, some homeless, stupid setences that he wanted so badly to mean something -- and trained his attention toward her. "Has he said anything?"

( I can't believe this. )

It was funny how all it took was something small to shatter a person's world.

Peyton's hand was shaking as she re-read the letter. The words started to blur in her mind now: relapse, treatment options, consider carefully, call if you have any concerns. In the rush of thoughts, she struggled to breathe right, to stay standing, to make her heart stop pumping so fast and so loud in the silence of the hotel room.

She didn't give Ellie a chance to defend herself when she stepped out of the bathroom. Peyton just held up the letter, shaking her head in disbelief, staring angrily at this woman who was, again, a stranger.

"Peyton--"

"Don't. Don't even start. Just-- go home!"

She whirled around and left, angrily marched to her car, found herself driving home. Still shaking, she headed straight upstairs, barged into her father's bedroom and let loose angry questions. Had he known, had he lied, why had he never mentioned her adoption to begin with, why did he think it was okay to just let this woman in now, why never before when she needed someone.

She left him in stunned silence, unable to bear being in the house. Too many memories. She got back into her car and drove as on autopilot.

She had been lied to all her life by everyone she had trusted the most. She had even been willing to give Ellie the benefit of the doubt, and it was just some guilt thing, some stupid attempt to still her conscience before she died. Fantastic, she'd lose another mother--

And then it hit her. Anna Sawyer. She'd lied, too.

Had she not been at a red light, she would've crashed. Everything was falling apart. She needed to stop, needed clarity or something to drink or someone to tell... but who? Her first thought was of Brooke. But Brooke... if Haley was there, Peyton didn't know what she'd do. She couldn't go back home, she knew, so... Luke. She didn't spare more than a second of a thought for guilt before she wound up parked in front of his house. She was glad Karen was out of the country. She didn't want to deal with parental figures, not when she was acutely aware of the situation with her own.

By then she was fighting back the tears gathered in her eyes, and her throat was considerably constricted. She didn't bother knocking, just burst in through the door to Lucas' room and stood there, eyes shut tight. "Please tell me you didn't know about Ellie's cancer."

( You're welcome to stay here if you need to ... get away. Or rather, stay away )

It was almost degrading, she mused to herself as she knocked on the door in front of her, how often she found herself at Chris's doorstep since she'd began taking part in this sordid little tryst. Putting it like that ('sordid little tryst') made it sound sleek, sophisticated, like something out of Cruel Intentions or something, so that's how she referred to it. Plus, it sounded a hell of a lot better than 'screwing Chris Keller'.

The last few times she'd darkened his doorstep, she'd been looking for two key things: comfort and sex. And one of those was always a direct lead to the other. But she'd come here with different intentions this time. One: yell at Chris for being a complete retard who blurted out something completely inappropriate and lead to the entire humiliating moment where she revealed that she was sleeping with Chris to Peyton and Peyton could not have looked more grossed out if she tried. Two: break up with him. Maybe break up wasn't the right term. Break up usually meant there was a relationship to break; this wasn't the case. Maybe the right words were break it off with him. Break off this ... sordid little tryst. Because now Peyton knew, and this whole thing had really just been a big mistake from the beginning. So she'd end it. Simple as that. Brooke was great at letting guys down. Gently or harshly? Depended on her mood. She'd called him about fifteen minutes prior, briefly telling him she was coming over, and then hung up. He probably thought he was getting laid. She smirked to herself.


The knock on the door brought a sinister little grin out of him: he knew who it was, and he was looking forward to what was to come. He sauntered over to the door, trying to keep his face neutral (which meant just a slight smirk) as he opened it. He didn't say anything, just stood aside and watched, waiting for her to come in.

( You're so comfortable with lies, Brooke, but when someone tries to be honest, you run away. Why is that? )

"Dinners of champions," Luke said with a slight grin and he scooped up a thin slice of pizza, pepperoni and extra cheese, and offered it out to his girlfriend. He had been over for about an hour, and the two of them had realized they were SOL for food. Peyton had protested that she'd burn down the kitchen if she attempted cooking, and Luke was in the mood for something greasy and utterly non-nutritious. He didn't often get pizza. Why would he need to, with his mother who produced food so glorious that it was as if the heavens had bestowed her with some sort of culinary gift? So Luke did the whole healthy, balanced dinner for most of his days. So he wanted pizza. He felt sort of bad for taking advantage of the fact that his mom had trusted him to stay home and stay out of trouble for the next few weeks as she went to visit Andy, but hey, what teenage boy wouldn't? Besides, it wasn't anything dire. He was ordering pizza and staying at his girlfriend's house. Tame, tame, tame. Except for maybe the last part, but his mom didn't have to know. His desire to be with Peyton trumped the slight twinge of guilt he felt by a long shot.

He scooped up his own slice, and took a hearty bite. "Tastes as good as it smells," he reported to Peyton, setting down the slice on the plate in front of him. "How's it faring for you?"

"Mm," Peyton mumbled, widening her eyes at him as if to say, 'Wait a second while I attempt to save myself from the copious amounts of cheese sliding off my slice and onto the table and possibly me, and goddamnit now I have to get my hands all greasy.' She reached for her plate just in time to catch the glob of mozzarella, then laughed when she was finally able to down the bite she'd taken. "Greasy and delicious, as advertised." She had to grin at him, at the fact that they could be together, guilt free. Sure, she felt a tiny bit guilty about having him stay over, but it wasn't the first time she'd had a boyfriend stay over. She figured that as long as nothing dishonest was going on (and there rarely was -- she had quite the conscience), all was well. Just as long as her dad never found out.

( I have wanted this for so long. )

It took all the willpower Peyton had not to throw a chair across the open space that was Tric. She hated to think it, but Chris Keller might be right about the club going downhill. It was suddenly so hard to get things together for this place.

Rather than destroy a CD collection sitting at the DJ table, she ran a hand through her hair and sighed. She wasn't ready to give up on this, but there were so many other things she should be taking care of.

This ... thing, whatever it was, with Chris was getting increasingly more wrong with every little 'liason' that they had. Their latest was about ten minutes ago in the freaking bathroom of Tric. What a downgrade! Why was she doing this to herself? It reeked of Felix all over again and that had turned out so freaking well. Except there wasn't a chance in Hell Chris would start pulling the Nice Guy act out of his ass, so she didn't have to worry about this getting sticky. It was just sex, and it was just a distraction from the suckage that this year was so far and ....

Seriously. Why did she do this to herself?

( Peyton, if I tell you something that's ... pretty terrible and kind of icky, will you still be my friend? )

Be rational, Brooke told herself for roughly the eightiest time in the last ... oh, twenty minutes? Those twenty minutes had been heavily weighted, and she felt ... well, to be honest, she didn't exactly know what she felt. Things with Lucas and Peyton had evolved, according to Peyton. Right. Peyton felt Brooke should know. Right. And Brooke was still her best friend and blah blah blah. Right. So why did she feel this burning desire to hurt something? She wasn't jealous. Definitely not jealous. She had been the one to decide to not get back together with him, she had decided that she couldn't love him, couldn't deal with having a relationship with him. She didn't want Lucas. And she didn't want to be one of those girls who freaked out when her ex-boyfriend got back together with your best friend that he had cheated on you with a year ago... really. Still. She couldn't help the slight anger bubbling up underneath her skin ... be rational. But if Lucas and Peyton had 'evolved', so could she. Not that she had someone. Well, she had Chris. But that wasn't exactly anything more than some witty banter and sex, but she'd take it for now.

She tapped her feet as she furiously knocked on Chris's apartment door, waiting for him to answer.

It was one of Chris Keller's policies not to answer the door on the first knock if after looking through the peephole he saw it was someone he'd want to bother talking with. Making them wait made them want to see him more badly, which worked all the better for him because they could rush past lame unpleasantries and get right to whatever this other person really wanted. He didn't often find himself making Brooke Davis wait, so he was relishing it. If both of them were impatient for ... whatever it was she wanted to think they were impatient about, all the better. After the second round of knocking, he pulled the door open some and let a lazy smile spread across his face. He rested an arm against the doorframe and peered at her. "What brings you here?"

( Truth be told, doesn't matter to me what brings you here. I'm just glad it brings you. )

Peyton's eyelids felt like they weighed tons when she finally woke up. She fought with her own weakness to get her eyes open, and then-- "Augh." Her head hurt. Her stomach wasn't feeling so great. God, her head hurt. Her eyes snapped shut again, and she put a hand over her forehead. Goddamnit. She'd known she'd regret this.

Luke had had several dreams about waking up in the middle of the night and talking to Peyton. But that's all they were- dreams. They were sort fo odd, and ridiculously real seeming but the truth was he slept fitfully until he heard Peyton moan out in... pain? Suddenly alert, the cobwebs of sleep were instantly shaken and he sat up from his position on the floor. Oh. She was awake. And... damn she must have had a wicked hangover. "Peyton?" he asked softly, just in case she wasn't awake.

( I need you to be okay. )

Peyton had asked for brief DJ duties mostly for something to do, because she knew that otherwise she'd just be playing wallflower or something equally lame. It had worked, but now her time was up. Packing up was a mindless task that got done quickly, and she headed over to her car to put her things in her trunk. It was too early to leave, so she went back inside and grabbed a cup of beer.

Out on the back porch, she found a few other people, two of whom looked about ready to tear off each other's clothes and go at it right there. Rolling her eyes, Peyton looked the other way and willed time to go faster or for something to happen.

"Pretty lame party, huh?" Rachel Gatina said disdainfully, coming up beside Peyton. She hadn't talked to the blonde much, but she knew her from cheerleading practice and school. Peyton was friends with the uber-bitch, Brooke. And she looked just about as thrilled to be at this party as Rachel felt. She had her own cup of beer in her hand. "I mean, I threw better parties than this when I was in seventh grade. No offense to Nathan or Brooke or anything, but I expected better."

( How much did you drink? )

party at Nate's beach house on Saturday! if you don't know where that is, you're not invited.

not a BYOB, but if you're picky, feel free. bring the hottest people you know and please don't have sex without locking the door ;)

see you there!

"Nate! Naaaate!" Brooke called, coming up beside Nate after some extremely fast walking. His legs were much longer than hers and he could out walk her without even meaning to. "Hey, ex-boyfriend of my favorite curly blonde best friend. There you go." She smiled perkily when he slowed down and tilted her head at him. "So, I have a proposition for you."

"Proposition," Nathan echoed as he looked down at Brooke with a smirk. "Is it a good one?" he questioned as he slowed to walk with her. The break up with Peyton had been amicable right? So there was no reason things with Brooke should be awkward... he hoped

( A good Nathan Scott party could be what we all need. )

After her talk with Luke, Peyton had felt much better, even well enough to get over Nathan's gloominess last time they'd been up in her bedroom. She'd talked to him at school that day, without threats or anger. Just like a girlfriend to the boyfriend she hadn't seen in too long for no fight-worthy reason. Part of her felt a twinge of guilt for not jumping to the topic of their relationship and what it was about, but it had been a while since she'd really talked to him, and despite how angry she'd been at him, she had missed him. They'd spent most of summer together, after all. She'd shared a lot with him, and she couldn't just opt to wipe those memories away.

Once in her room, she flipped off her webcam and her computer screen. "So," she said, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one foot. "Shall I ask if you want to listen to anything, or should I wait until there's a song in your head and you just let me know?"

“Because the chance of me wanting to listen to any of your whiny music is high?” Nathan questioned, the harshness of his words softened by a teasing smile. Sure, they’d fought the last time they were together in her room, but that didn’t mean they had to dwell OR talk about it. He’d had more than enough talking with Haley lately anyway, and he was hoping that Peyton wouldn’t want to rehash the whole stupid fight. Apparently his hopes were being fulfilled.

( Can't quite seem to get it right, can we? )

It was the first time in a while that Peyton had gotten the chance to talk to Lucas without people potentially overhearing, and she didn't care that she'd almost had to kidnap him to do so. Their classmates tended to stay away from the beach during school days, but not Peyton. Not today, at any rate, when she needed someone to talk to who would get it. "You're too popular for your own good, y'know," she teased him, flicking a stray bug from his shoulder.

"Comes with the territory of being unconditionally good looking," he joked, stretching out his arms and fingers, hearing the distinct crack from his knuckles as he did so. "Joke. A complete joke. I've been helping my mom out at the cafe," he confessed. "She's been sort of busy lately, so I've been going there after school and kind of helping out." He gave a little shrug. "You're not especially easy to get to either, you know?"

( What do you want to become? )

Peyton had lent Brooke her history textbook a few days ago. She kind of needed it back in time to study for tomorrow's quiz. A few hours after school had been over for the day, she drove over to Brooke's apartment. "It's me, just here for my book," she called, letting herself in through the unlocked door. She spotted her textbook on the kitchen counter. She spotted Haley and her laptop right next to it. Taking in a deep breath, she walked over to the counter, offering a quick "hi" only when she'd reached for her book.

( You don't get to make assumptions )

Brooke signalled for another drink as she sat pathetically at the bar. She was feeling blah and needed to do something ... needed to have some sort of fun. But the fact that she was alone at a fucking bar just depressed her more. Well, it wasn't as if she was depressed before but everything was so... uneventful. Senior year had gotten off to a boring start. She had been so excited for it, but it was falling flat for her and she didn't understand why she, the captain of the freaking Cheerleading squad was sitting there. Alone. Weren't guys supposed to be climbing over themselves to get to her?

( but don't have sex with her because she's all... vulnerable )

The honest to God last thing Nathan wanted to do at that moment was go over to Peytons. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with his girlfriend , it was just that he didn’t want to really to deal with anyone at all that afternoon, not after the awkward talk with Haley earlier. Not when all he wanted to do was shoot baskets until his arms ached and he couldn’t think. But he had promised
Peyton he’d be over that afternoon, so he sucked it up and headed upstairs, because one thing Nathan Scott did these days was keep promises.

( Maybe coming over wasn't a good idea )

One of Chris Keller's skills was research. Actually, he didn't do much research. It was more like a god-given gift. He always knew where to find people who needed finding... by him. Which was great, because it made his life easier. Into Karen's Cafe he went (because she really did make the best pie), and there she was, the lady of the moment. "Haley," he greeted, taking a seat at the counter.

Luke and Brooke had both told her that Chris was in town, but that knowledge hadn’t even begun to prepare her for what she’d feel when she saw him. Haley had to think quickly to avoid dropping the plate that she was delivering to a hungry customer, and she took a full minute to compose herself before she turned to Chris. “Chris,” she greeted him rather emotionlessly.

He saw the effect he had on her, and he kept a smirk in check. It wouldn't do to scare her. That wasn't what he wanted. "How's it goin'?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the customer she was going to.

( Maybe if Chris Keller stopped talking in third person, I’d consider it. )