Age of the Fifth Sun
Author: Lilylovett
Disclaimer: "One Tree Hill" the TV series © CW and its related entities. The title and subsequent chapter titles are from the album "Age of the Fifth Sun" by God Is an Astronaut. All rights reserved. There is no profit, aside from personal satisfaction here.
Rating: M, just to be safe.
Summary: Music doesn't always need lyrics. When Haley is with Brooke, she doesn't always need to have control.
1. Worlds in Collision
Haley didn't want to remember who she was or what deep shit her life seemed to be in.
She didn't want to be reminded of the tour bus or basketball or Chris Keller or her husband. She just wanted to forget and live for another night, so that perhaps the next day she could find it in herself to have the strength and knowledge to fix the broken ties.
It scared Haley when the thought crossed that she didn't want anything to return to the way it was.
Yeah, her life had been so damn comfortable and predictable when she was so in love with Nathan and Chris Keller was just an asshole. All of that made sense, but she didn't feel that way anymore. She didn't know what had changed.
If she could sum her emotions in one word, she'd just write ambiguous.
And now that she had returned to Tree Hill "to get Nathan back", all she could think of was the best brand to drink, to avoid the situation.
It was all okay, though, because when she looks at Brooke, she feels lighter and her inner turmoil is lost. Maybe it's because she trusts Brooke, and Brooke knows how to let Haley forget.
"Hey, Tutor Girl, you know we don't have to do this. I honestly have no objection to a girls' night in, hooked to the television, abusing ice-cream and cheesy romance movies," She looks away from the mirror, and directly at the other girl. She has this fleeting intensity in her eyes that Haley has never really seen before, but she likes it.
"I know, but if I'm honest, I just want to forget this whole rift-in-my-teenage-marriage problem for tonight."
"Whatever ya say. But you know you're going out with Brooke Davis, and I don't mess around when it comes to good house parties." Brooke winks and grins, the look in her eyes gone. Haley wonders why her heart is being weird. It's beating faster, and she thinks maybe Tutor Girl is just excited to intentionally get wasted.
Their dresses are dark and sleek, hair in place, and heels high enough dominate.
As the car speeds through the empty streets, Haley almost asks Brooke to keep driving. The sound of their breathing has lapsed their conversation into a comfortable silence. The dashboard is glowing, and the streetlights race by. Haley is fascinated by the beauty of it, and she wonders how she had never noticed before.
The car abruptly stops at the designated house. Vibrations can be felt from their position, and it amazes Haley that the neighbors have not already shut the party down.
"Hey," Brooke is looking at her again with that look she had before. Haley wonders why it's so prevalent tonight. She muses that maybe it's Brooke's game face, in her quest to get laid by some random hot guy.
"If you wanna leave, I promise I'll get your ass outta there before I get wasted." The declaration surprises Haley, and she feels guilty for a moment at her previous notions, and then doesn't know how to respond, because Brooke's perfume is distorting her mind.
They embrace, and then enter the house that reeks of alcohol and strangers.
It's hardly been thirty minutes, and already Brooke has gone off with some random hot guy and Haley has actually got a buzz going on. The chair in the corner aside the table of drinks has been especially helpful to her, because she is able to avoid social interaction, while hoarding any of the liquor bottles before her, at will.
But then the music beats, and her bones feel it.
Its familiarity to her is so swift, she finds herself colliding with people she has never met and not minding it at all. Less than dancing, it is swerving and moving to a rhythm that echos within each person. Haley would normally object to such physical closeness with someone she's never met, but this hardly phases her.
One girl that's been near her the whole night, gently takes her wrist and Haley's not sure why but she vaguely trusts her. She's brunette and the girl sort of reminds her of Brooke. The girl takes her out onto the back porch and sits her down at a wicker chair.
"Hi, my name's not important." Haley is looking at the Fake Brooke's hands. There are tiny beads of sweat on her palms. "You look like you could use an L. I'm offering 'cause you look sorta like this girl I used to like. Stupid, yea. But no pressure."
The girl extracts a ziplock and thick rolling paper from her jacket pocket, and before Haley can be responsible and reject the offer, she finds herself reveling in another strange beauty of the night; the other girl's lips as she exhales and the haze rises. Haley is no longer buzzed, she is flying.
It's not a transcendent experience, but it does make her feel a bit more alive.
Her night has been moving so fast, and she has almost forgotten how she had gotten to the party. The mysterious Fake Brooke has long since left her on the porch, and Haley is cold. She takes a final drag and laughs at how silly it is. Perfect, straight-A Haley, who fell in love and got married in high school, toured the country, singing her heart out, is now out at night, looking to–and is successfully—get fucked up.
Her laugh is a harsh sound, and outside on the cold porch it is loud in her ears. She is startled when the real Brooke sits down next to her.
Haley is sedated by her scent, which has prevailed through the sweat of the many fratboys. And for no particular reason, it suddenly bothers Haley to imagine all of the boys who probably touched and grinded against an intoxicated Brooke.
These thoughts stray when Brooke looks at her and holds her close. Haley is warm, now.
"I think this was a bad idea," Brooke whispers into her neck. The words tickle and Haley hardly understands them, let alone is able to conjure a response. "But you know what, Tutor Girl? Let's just sit here. Together, for a while."
So, then Brooke has her arms wrapped around Haley's waist and they're both watching the fragile night turn bright with the sun. Their breathing becomes slow for a while, and when Haley tries to manage coherent thoughts, she fails and loses herself in Brooke's arms.
It is a perfect dawn in a stranger's backyard.