Brooke Davis used to smile a lot. She smiled when something wasn't funny, when she didn't know what was going on, and when her friends teased her. She smiled when she was alone, when she was lost, and when her parents were never home. She even smiled when nothing was wrong and when everything was wrong. She smiled when it hurt, even when her world was changing, even when she was left behind, and even when her own heart was breaking.
She smiled because it hurt a lot less than frowning.
Then once upon a time, a boy named Lucas Scott entered her life. Brooke smiled at him, and he smiled back.
And for once, he made her smile for real.
Brooke smiled when he held her hand, when he laughed with her, and when he kissed her gently on the forehead. She smiled whenever she saw him, her rosy lips spreading across her porcelain skin.
But this was Brooke, and to her, happy endings weren't familiar.
She no longer got his kisses, or his hugs, or his laughter. Peyton Sawyer did. And Peyton smiled every time Lucas looked at her.
Brooke was broken, and she smiled.
But no one seemed to notice. So she kept smiling.
Brooke smiled the day she entered her father's study, her fingers brushing against the mahogany cabinet. Her knuckles went white as she gripped onto the handle, thrusting it out towards her. The gun laid there innocently, sparkling against the light shinning silently through the window. Brooke glanced at it, her head tilting calmly as her fingers found its way caressing the shiny weapon.
Then as slowly as possible, her fingers gingerly laced around the gun, pulling it closely to her body. It took her a moment before the cold steel graced her soft temple. Brooke paused for a second, taking the time to breathe. And in that second, the happy faces of Peyton and Lucas echoed throughout her mind.
And she pulled the trigger.
Brooke staggered, collapsing onto her knees, her tired hand clutching desperately onto her heart. Her eyes wavered; any feel of her body grew weaker and weaker. But she wasn't dead. There were never any bullets in the gun. But it still hurt.