Hello! This is my very first fanfiction and it's basically the product of me obsessively listening to Florence + The Machine and bits and pieces of my childhood/other people's life stories. I just want to warn you, Brooke may seem out of character at some points and I did that on purpose. I just hope you'll take that into consideration. :) Thanks for reading! Please feel free to tell me what you think.

I'm gonna drink myself to death
And in the crowd
I see you with someone else,
I brace myself,
Cause I know it's going to hurt,
But I like to think at least things can't get any worse.


When she drank, Lucas Scott became a haze, a stranger of some sort that did not spark any memories whatsoever. The constant impairment and utter agony suddenly felt better.

She was still grappling with the fact that her high school sweetheart had left her for another woman. Suspicions ran about for a while and were confirmed to be true when she finally caught them together in bed. She wanted to cry, scream and throw things. But nothing came out. So she ran. She took their daughter and drove through the night to the small town of Tree Hill.

Her newly acquired habit turned three months old today. The bottle of wine she graciously brought herself was now half gone, teetering on the edge of her rickety desk. Forgotten sketches were strewn about, pens bleeding dry as they were left uncapped.

Since her separation, all of her creativity was gone. Her muse wanted to play hide and seek and she was not up for the challenge of finding it. So she drank. And drank, and drank, and drank until her vision became blurry. She only drank when Chloe was sleeping. The last thing she wanted was for her daughter to see what a sorry mess she had become. Chloe occasionally asked where Lucas was and when Brooke didn't answer, she scurried off in a fit of tears. She missed her father.

"Okay," she began to coach herself quietly. "I can do this. I used to design dresses in my sleep."

She reached for the marker and cursed loudly when it didn't work. Her slender fingers wrapped around the wine glass as she took a long sip, savoring the fruity taste as it trickled down her throat and into her stomach. She was beginning to develop a bit of a pouch from all the drinking she had done over the last few months. It made her feel bloated and disgusting but it numbed the pain. That's all that mattered.

When Brooke finally found a marker that actually worked, she began to sketch skillfully. A small smile curved at the corner over her lips. Maybe her muse was back. Everything seemed to come together all at once. She had never designed so fast in her life.

Then, it happened.

Chloe's voice was tiny but she was determined to make her presence known.

Brooke tried to hide the wine, but in an effort to shield her daughter from her vicious vice she knocked it over instead. Red wine flowed out of the glass like a damn breaking, staining the hardwood floors. Chloe clutched her purple monkey tighter, afraid to move. She didn't know what to say or what to do.

"I'm, s-s-sorry," she stuttered in utter terror.

A wave of nausea ripped through Brooke's stomach as she fled to her feet to try and stop the alcohol from staining her floors. She didn't want to curse or let Chloe know she was mad. Chloe did not deserve to be used as a punching bag for her anger.

"It's okay, baby," Brooke finally responded after she got the mess under control. She looked at her daughter's tear-stained cheeks and wobbled over to her. "It's okay."

"I ruined your drawing!" Chloe wailed, pointing behind her.

Brooke hadn't noticed her glass had overturned onto her sketch. The paper was sopping wet and there was no way it could be recovered. Now she wanted to cry. Chloe continued to sob heavily, afraid for what was going to happen.

"It's just a drawing," Brooke said weakly, fighting back the tears that were welling in her hazel eyes. She kept telling herself not to yell, not to blame Chloe for anything.

She kept thinking about Lucas and how she would often wait up for him at night. Even though he told her not do, she did. She was stubborn and he knew it. Everyone did.

"Hey, baby, it's okay, it's okay."

Chloe lifted up her arms and stood on her tiptoes, begging to be picked up. Brooke tried to steady her trembling hands while she placed them under Chloe's armpits, shakily lifting the little girl up. Chloe was a little on the chubby side and quickly outgrowing her clothes. But Brooke had no money. No real job. Back in Charleston, she was a stay-at-home-mom who spent her time sketching as a hobby. She always wanted to be a fashion designer but with no real support system, she suppressed her dream and let her boyfriend shine. Lucas had recently sold the movie rights to his book and they were on top of the world. Brooke immediately started a college fund for Chloe.

"I'm sorry, momma," Chloe hiccupped, tangling her tiny fingers in Brooke's hair.

Brooke just rocked her back and forth, her palm rubbing soothing circles on the small of Chloe's back. Her pajamas were old and worn and nearly melded to her body. With most of her money going towards wine and liquor, Brooke's funds were running low. She waited tables during the day while Chloe was at school but that was it. She couldn't afford a babysitter.

She couldn't afford anything without Lucas and had no skills to get a better paying job.

He barely made an effort to try and contact Chloe. Since they were not married, he didn't feel any obligation. Lucas was always weary of being a father. Brooke became pregnant at eighteen and Chloe was conceived on prom night like an old cliché. She came kicking and screaming into the world three days after Brooke's nineteenth birthday. She was overjoyed while Lucas was overwhelmed. Money was tight and he was too busy chipping away at his first novel while taking classes at the community college.

"Better now?"

Chloe lifted her head up, trying to ignore the foul smell radiating off her mother's breath. She sniffled a few times and nodded sullenly. "Uh-huh."

"Good," Brooke smiled, kissing Chloe's temple. "Now, what are you doing up?"

"I'm not tired," Chloe huffed, wriggling around a bit. Brooke had a tight grip around her mid-section but she didn't dare say anything. It was a rarity that her mother even held her these days. The uncomfortable position was worth it. "I even tried counting sheep!"

"And that didn't work?" Brooke feigned shock, breaking into a giggle. She was almost sure it was the wine making her laugh so hard.

"No!" Chloe pouted, her legs tightening around her mother's waist she shifted her to the right side of her hip. "It didn't work, mommy. Silly! I would be sleeping now if it did."

"Of course," Brooke shrugged stupidly.

"Mommy? Will you tell me a story?"

"Of course, sweetie. What about?" Brooke whispered, plopping down on the couch. Her balance was becoming unsteady and the buzz was wearing off. She had to get Chloe to bed as quickly as possible so she could continue her late night drinking session.

"I don't know," Chloe yawned, sticking her thumb in her mouth. "How did you meet daddy?"

It was such an innocent question but it felt like someone stabbing her in the heart. Brooke closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing a smile when Chloe looked up at her in curiosity.

"You already know that, silly," she said, poking Chloe in the stomach.

"Don't you miss him?"

"How about we try and sleep?" Brooke changed the subject, springing to her feet. Chloe was still on the couch, dumbfounded at her mother's actions. "Chloe, now."

Her mother's voice was stern and unrecognizable. But Chloe didn't move.

"But mommy!"

"No buts," Brooke snapped, pulling Chloe off the couch. She nearly lost her footing and would have fell into the coffee table if Brooke hadn't grabbed her in time. "Stand up!"

Chloe scrambled to her feet and reached for her fallen monkey. It was her only source of comfort now that her mother had morphed into a stranger. She decided against protesting and just huffed in displeasure when her mother lifted her up by the waist and stomped down the hall to the tiny bedroom she lived in. Once settled on the bed, Chloe looked up at her mother sadly, willing herself to speak.

"I'm sorry."

Brooke felt her heart break. It was as if a light had gone off in her brain. Why was she doing this? Chloe was the innocent one in all of this. Chloe didn't make Lucas cheat. Yet, somehow, Brooke blamed her. Perhaps if they didn't have a child none of this would have happened. The tiny ounce of regret that snuggled low in her heart was eating away at her. Every time she looked at her beautiful child she felt a hole widening in her heart. Though Chloe looked exactly like her, she was smart as a whip. Just like her father. She had his pretty blue eyes. She didn't want to be like this. She didn't want to look at her daughter and see her husband staring back at her. They were supposed to be a family through thick and thin. Now, she was stuck.

"Me, too," Brooke finally whispered, settling Chloe in bed. She left a lingering kiss on her forehead and made sure her monkey was in sight. "I'm so sorry, Chloe."

Chloe didn't speak. She merely nodded and turned over to the wall, her back facing her mother.

Neither one was sure how much more they could take.

After she shut the lights off, Brooke wandered to the kitchen and grabbed another bottle of wine. Her fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle, her grip so tight that her knuckles were turning white. She allowed the tears to fall, knowing she had created this monster all by herself. The alcohol was her crutch. It made everything better when visions of her and Lucas in happier times danced around her head. But they were just memories now. They were memories that needed to be suppressed before she lost herself entirely.

So she drank until her footing became unsteady and her vision blurry. It was nearing to be three a.m. She could barely stand and made no effort of being quiet as she stumbled into bed. The thin sheets were beckoning and she engulfed herself in them to shield herself from the world.

She was falling fast, silently wondering if someone was going to catch her.

Precisely six hours later, Brooke awoke with a pounding headache. It was normal though. Even though she stayed up late drinking, she could never sleep past nine. The routine had become so redundant that it was almost comforting. However, the morning lacked Chloe. The little girl was nowhere to be found in her bed. Usually, she'd come barging in by now, whining about breakfast. This frightened Brooke. She didn't like when her routine was compromised.

She pulled herself out of bed with a groan, adjusting her tight tank top until it fell back into place. Her brown hair was thrown haphazardly into a bun, wisps of stray hair clinging to the back of her sweaty neck. As she wandered down the hall, the smell of pancakes wafted through the air. In her tired haze, she began to wonder if she had woken up ten years into the future. Would it still be like this when Chloe was fifteen? Would Chloe have to take care of her like she had to take care of her own mother?

Shuddering at the thought, Brooke hugged her arms tight to her chest, tiptoeing in the kitchen. Her heart nearly fell to her feet. There was Chloe, sitting pretty on the hip of Julian Baker. He was Brooke's oldest friend but they hadn't spoken in months. Most of it was Brooke's fault.

"Uh," she cleared her throat, making her presence known. "Hello?"

"Mommy!" Chloe squealed in excitement, bouncing in Julian's arms. "Uncle Julian is here! He's here!"

A sigh of relief escaped Brooke's mouth. She was grateful Chloe was still too young to harbor a grudge. "I see!"

Julian grinned and placed Chloe down, leaning forward to engulf Brooke in a hug. "Hey, stranger."

"Hi," Brooke whispered against his chest, snaking her arms around his waist. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in New Zealand?"

"That was three months ago, B," Julian chuckled, a bit hurt that he and Brooke failed at keeping up with each other's lives. "I'm back now for a bit."

Julian knew all about Brooke and Lucas parting ways. Between Haley's weekly e-mails and Brooke's cryptic voicemails, he felt like he had been there every step of the way.

"For how long?" Chloe piped up, looking at her Uncle happily. "Forever?"

"Maybe," Julian winked, ruffling the young girl's hair. "I think our pancakes are ready. What do you think, Chloe?"

Chloe shrugged. "I think so!"

Brooke laughed while she watched Julian lift Chloe up again, eyeing her carefully as she scooped the various sized pancakes off the griddle and onto a plate. She sat down in the chair and rubbed her aching temples, wondering if Julian came back because he found out about her drinking. But nobody knew except Chloe. She had trained her daughter well into not talking about what went on at home. Chloe was blissfully naïve to Brooke.

"How about you take your pancakes into the other room and watch TV so your mommy and I can talk?"

"Can I?" Chloe asked her mother with widened eyes. She was never allowed to eat anywhere but at the kitchen table. "Is it okay?"

"Just this once," Brooke smiled, watching Chloe carefully glide out of the room with a stack of pancakes on her plate. Julian placed a plate down in front of her with a knowing look that made her quiver. "Thanks."

"She got really big," Julian mused once Chloe was out of the room. "She could be a truck driver with the gut she has."

Brooke let out a genuine giggle as she dug into the food. "She eats like a horse."

"I bet."

The two friends fell into a comfortable silence. Brooke could feel Julian's eyes on her, as if he were expecting her to pour her heart out. She didn't look up, for fear he would get everything out of her with one simple glance.

"So, I have a favor to ask," Julian asked, finally breaking the quietness.

"Yeah?"

"Can I crash here? Just until I find my own place. I'm directing a film with Alex Dupre. You know that head case of an actress? Well, it turns out she's actually a very intelligent person and she wrote this amazing script…"

Brooke felt a lump form in her throat. If Julian stayed, everything would change. Her routine would have to be shuffled all around and the mere thought made her tremble. However, if she said no, Julian would know something was wrong.

"Sure," she finally replied after a long pause. "Stay as long as you want."

She immediately closed her eyes and cursed herself. No, no, no. What was she thinking?

"Careful what you wish for," Julian joked, leaning forward to steal a bite of pancake. "Can I tell you something? In all honesty?"

"What?" Brooke asked, afraid.

"You look like hell," he said seriously, studying his best friend to find any trace of the vibrant person he used to be. "It looks like you haven't slept in days, Brooke."

Brooke tried to play it off as a joke and laughed. "Thanks, J. I missed you, too."

Julian sighed and watched as Brooke got to her feet. He didn't want to broach the subject so early into his visit. But if all the empty wine bottles stowed away in the cabinets was any indication of how Brooke was doing, he was screwed. The problem was more colossal than he thought.