Brooke Davis sighed inwardly as she entered yet another classy hotel room. Normally, people walking into these sorts of room would have been happy, or at least, they wouldn't feel cheap. But Brooke did.
It was the whole set up. The hotel room, her outfit, the guy sat on the bed waiting. She knew it would be sex, and then she would be leaving to go back to her small apartment. It wasn't the life she'd imagined having, but it was probably what a lot of people expected from her.
She hated all of the different terms: prostitute, girl of the night, hooker. But the worst one was slut, because she knew that's what she was.
Her eyes fixed on the man sitting on the bed in an expensive-looking suit. He wasn't bad-looking, just a little rough round the edges, but he was sneering at her. Brooke forced a smile, not the one that would show her dimples, that was her real smile. This one was fake and forced, but she had perfected it in front of the small mirror on her bathroom wall, and now it seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face.
The room looked cold, and the air conditioning that was lightly blowing, wasn't helping either. Brooke knew she would have goose bumps on her legs, the ones that were thin and spindly, and covered in bruises. The leather skirt she had on barely covered her ass, but it was what clients expected. She wasn't one to disappoint.
"So I guess you had a long day at work" Brooke whisper-talked, making her way over to the bed, straddling the man while loosening his tie with one of her hands.
"And you need to do something to de-stress" Brooke continued, releasing the tie from under the man's shirt, and started to unbutton his collar.
"what do you have in mind?" the man asked, playing along with Brooke's act.
"well" she started, unbuttoning his shirt further until all of the buttons were undone. "How about you do me?"
"I'll settle for that" the man said, kissing Brooke roughly as she pushed him down so that he was laying on the bed with her still straddling him.
And that was it.
They had sex. Meaningless sex that did nothing for either of them, but being close to someone at least made Brooke feel better for a while. Not a long while, but those few seconds of intense pleasure masked the pain behind the fake smile.
She left with cash in hand, the fake smile plastered across her face after she had whispered something dirty to the man which made him smile. Now came the bit she hated the most. The walk home.
She hated passing anybody because she felt so dirty and cheap. She hadn't kept contact with any of her old friends, especially not Lucas, for fear of how she lived her life would get out and become gossip around Tree Hill.
As far as she knew, they all still lived there, all the old gang. They had all started off at NCU, majoring in all different subjects, but at least they would all still spend time together at lunch and during study breaks.
The difference between them and her, was that they all stayed there.
Brooke knew that college wasn't for her, but she had stuck it out as long as she could, once again living a fake existence of pretence. But it got to a point where she just wasn't focused enough and she started to fall behind. The partying had started to take its toll on Brooke and she couldn't pull the all-nighters so that she could hand her work in on time.
It wasn't like high school where you would just get a detention and that would be it. You had to do the work on your own at college, nobody was there to help you.
Lucas and Haley had tried to help her as best they could, but knowing nothing about the subject of fashion, they didn't do much good. Besides, they had their own studies to do, and Brooke didn't want to drag them down to her level. So she left.
That's how she ended up in New York. Brooke being Brooke, thought she would land a job at Barney's or another store like that. She thought that she would have enough money from her parents to get herself a nice apartment near 5th Avenue, but with her dad's company going bust, he couldn't support her. So she went about it on her own, knowing nothing about the city, nothing about where she would be living, but she thought she would give it a try, and if she didn't like it, she could always move back to Tree Hill.
Only it hadn't worked out quite like that. She didn't like it, in fact, she pretty much hated it, but she didn't want to admit defeat.
So now, 5 years later with Brooke at the grand age of 23, she was still living in New York, in possibly one of the worst apartments ever to be built, with a job as a hooker.
Brooke entered her small apartment and was greeted with the smell of alcohol, which was one of the only things that got her through the day. That, and the picture she had of her and Lucas back when they were dating. It was stupid to be still hung up on her high school boyfriend. Okay, so they'd slept together a few times during college, mainly when they had been at some rager Brooke had persuaded them to go to, but it wasn't like it meant anything to him, but to her, it meant the world.
Most things in her life revolved around Lucas. She always wondered what he was doing, or what he was thinking. She knew it was stupid, because no doubt Lucas had moved on. He would probably have a girlfriend or even a fiancé by now.
Brooke placed her keys down on the table beside the door and pressed the answer phone button so that she could hear the half dozen messages that would have been left by clients.
She sighed out loud this time, and started to undress, folding her clothes neatly in a pile on the end of the couch. She walked to the small closet at the end of her bedroom, and pulled out a pair of sweat pants and a baggy grey hoody-one that she had bought because it reminded her so much of the grey hoody of Lucas's that she used to love wearing so much. The thing was, this one just wasn't as good, because it didn't have Lucas's scent on it. Maybe, Brooke thought, the smell of him on the soft material was the reason why she loved wearing his top.
Nevertheless, she pulled the top over her head and twisted her hair around her fingers on the top of her head, securing it in a bun with a small band. She looked in the mirror and smirked at herself. This was the life that she was leading now. A life where she was disgusted with herself for what she was doing. Brooke took a make-up removal wipe from the packet on the table by her mirror, and slowly wiped the harsh make-up off her face.
The make-up was like a security mask-one that she could hide behind when she was meeting with clients, or even passing people in the street. It had gotten to a point where she wouldn't leave her apartment without wearing make-up, because it made her feel safer.
This was a routine she has become accustomed to over the last few years. She knew that taking her 'work clothes' off and then putting her home clothes on, only to get in the shower a few minutes later was stupid, but she felt some comfort in having these little routines, because she knew it was something in her life that she had control over.
Brooke walked a few paces to the bathroom and set the temperature on the shower, leaving it to warm up for a few minutes while she took off her clothes and looked at herself in the mirror. Almost 5 years of doing the same thing, and she still couldn't bring herself to look herself in the eye. And Brooke knew exactly why. It was because she was ashamed, and she had every right to be.
Just before stepping into the shower, Brooke flicked on the small waterproof radio that she had for these specific times, just to block out what she had just done. It was her escape.
She climbed into the shower and shut the door, letting the warm water wash over her skin. Skin which was once tanned and healthy-looking was now pale and bruised, barely covering her bones.
Brooke had always known she was pretty. It wasn't like she was big-headed about it, but she knew there was something about her that guys found attractive, that Lucas found attractive. She wondered if he would feel the same way now if he saw her. She used to love it when he called her 'pretty girl' That's what made her feel special. That fact that she was loved by someone.
They had managed to get past the whole 'Peyton' thing, and they had enjoyed senior year as a couple.
Brooke leaned against the wall of the shower as the D.J's talked about the unusually cold weather they were having for Springtime.
"Tell me about it" Brooke muttered, as she stood under the shower head, not wanting to move from the comforting position that she was in. The room was silent for a few seconds and then music started to play over the radio. Slow music with an instrumental beginning. Brooke had started to actually listen tot the lyrics of songs and take them in, rather than just letting them wash over her, because usually, they had some meaning.
If you could hear me now That one who said that she'd rather
'Hear it was again' Brooke thought, Yet another song to remind her of Lucas, to make her wish that he was there with her, and that she wasn't living the life that she was.
The one who said that she'd rather be alone If you could only hear me now.
That's what she'd told him. That she'd rather be alone. Of course she was lying, but she knew that he would destroy his future if it meant that he could support Brooke. She couldn't do that to him. He had a dream, and he'd worked so hard all of that time that she couldn't wreck it all. But now, in a way, she wished that he could hear her thoughts, and see how she was living, because she knew that he'd rescue her.
But that was selfish.
She had to rescue herself.
If I could hold you now Just for a moment, I could really make you mine
That was all she wanted. Just to feel him next to her again, to breathe in his scent, because it comforted her so much.
Just for a while, turn back the hands of time If I could only hold you now.
She knew she should have stuck it out at college. It would have been tough, and she would have hated almost every moment of it, but surely it would have been better than how she was living now. At last she would have had someone close to her. Not like now. Now she had no one.
Cos I've been too long in the wind And too long in the rain
Maybe she had left it too long. Perhaps if she had kept in touch by phone or email, or even visited every now and again, but it was too late.
Taking any comfort that I can
That's what she was doing. Trying to take any comfort that she could. Sleeping with guys gave her that for a while, but after she left, then she was even more lonely than before.
Looking back, and hoping for the freedom of my chains And lying in your loving arms again.
Brooke loved being in his arms. When he held her, she felt safe, loved, protected. She would have given anything to be back in his arms, the heat between their bodies keeping her warm.
If you could see me now See me somewhere through the lonely night
Brooke wondered what he would be doing at this time. Peering through the steamed-up glass, she could make out that the time on the clock was 02:34. So right now, he was probably snuggled up in bed with someone, or he was maybe out with the guys having a good time. She knew he loved going out with the basketball team. Even though he wouldn't admit that he had a good time, Brooke could always tell by the smile on his face that he had.
And dreaming of the love that held me tight If you could only see me now
Maybe if he could see what her life was like, then he would come and help her, but that wasn't going to happen. Why? Because she wouldn't let him see what her life was like. She didn't want his pity. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself.
Cos I've been too long in the wind And too long in the rain
Brooke stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her thin body. She shut the shower off, and wrapped another towel around her hair which was still held in place by the bun she had secured a few minutes earlier.
Taking any comfort that I can
Brooke pulled the towel tighter around her, burying her face in the soft material. This was where she got her comfort from now. Not from any guy, but from freshly washed laundry. It was sad, but true.
Looking back, and hoping for the freedom of my chains And lying in your loving arms again.
She put on her sweats and the hoody, and squeezed the hair that was dripping water all over that bathroom from out of her face.
I can almost feel your loving arms again.
Brooke turned off the radio and hung up the towels on the rail to dry. Walking into the small living room, she looked around and wiped the tears from her face. If she thought about it, she really could feel the weight of Lucas's arms around her, and the more she thought about it, the harder it was for her to breathe.
Walking to the fridge, she took out the half empty vodka bottle that she had bought a few days ago. Nobody should drink that amount of alcohol, but Brooke didn't care. Her life was screwed up as it was, a drink wasn't going to make it any worse.
She sunk down onto the couch, bringing her feet up underneath her frail body. Brooke let the burning liquid wash down her throat, and she shut here eyes tightly to stop any more tears from flowing.
I can almost feel your loving arms again.
Brooke pulled the quilt from the side of the couch so that it covered her body. It was almost like having Lucas there with her. At least, if she imagined that he was lying next to her, then she wouldn't feel so lonely.
And that was yet another night that Brooke dozed into an alcohol-induced sleep, wishing that she didn't have this life.
But she did, and if she had learned anything over the past few years, it was that life is what you make it.