A/N: Yes, I know that I probably shouldn't be uploading this consdering I have at least two or three other unfinished projects on the table. But, I've been working on this story with ytsgrl for over a month now, and it's time that this baby see the light of day. I don't normally write Jake/Peyton but it was more natural in this scenario. I hope you all enjoy!
Read and Review! And thank you to my partner and beta ytsgrl :)
Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill or any of it's characters. They are all the property of the CW and/or Mark Schwahn. There's some original dialogue used from 1x20, 3x20 and 5x13 (Things a Mama Don't Know) and that isn't mine either. Neither are the artists/ visual artists or places in Atlanta used in this fic. Sadly, I don't own Why Can't I by Liz Phair whose lyrics fit this story perfectly!
P.S. Extra points if you can figure out the original dialogue from the show!
Get a load of me, get a load of you
Walking down the street and I hardly know you
It's just like we were meant to be.
- Why Can't I (by Liz Phair)
Peyton Sawyer was lying on her stomach on top of the pool table in her office, staring at her sketchbook, willing something to come out. Something good. Her buyers were waiting on her to spew out another masterpiece so they could both make some money. It had been eight months since she'd last sold something of her own and buyers' hopes were starting to wane; they were beginning to search for new artists.
With a frustrated groan, she threw the sketchbook at the wall and laid her head against the cool panel of wood at the edge of the table. It had been eight months and she couldn't produce a single sketch worthy of painting. All the signs that her sketches meant something to her were missing - the moment of clarity, the vision, and the tingles. They had disappeared. Sure, she could dish out portraits of a landscape and alter them to fit her jaded and dark view of the world, but she wouldn't, because even if no one else knew, she'd know that she'd cheated someone, and cheated herself. She wasn't an artist to make money, and the day that she felt that she was drawing for money was the day that she would close shop. Art was about passion.
Rolling over so she was staring at the ceiling, she clasped her hands against her stomach and closed her eyes. It wasn't like she wasn't trying, she was, but there was just nothing there. It was getting irritating.
"Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer," came a warning voice, "You better not be moping around in that office of yours when I come in."
Before she had a chance to change the music that was playing and open up some blinds to make it look less morbid inside her office, Lucas Scott had already barged in, hands on his hips and a smug grin on his face.
"Aha!" he exclaimed, "Guilty as charged."
Peyton gave him a sheepish smile as she walked forward to embrace her friend.
"You look tired," she said as she gave him a once over after pulling back from their embrace. "Working hard?"
He nodded, "Everything's flowing really well." After he realized his mistake, he immediately corrected himself. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have said something like that. I didn't mean to be insensitive."
She shook her head, smiling. "Its okay, I'm happy for you. At least one of us is getting something done."
"No luck for you?"
She shook her head no, while walking over the couch and taking a seat. "It's not like I'm not trying to draw, it's like I can't."
Lucas took a seat next to her and gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, telling her to continue.
"It's been eight months, Luke and nothing is coming to me. I sit down and stare at blank pages for hours, just willing something to come to me. But it never does, not a single stroke of the pencil to the paper. I literally have nothing."
She rested her head against his shoulder, and for a moment, both just sat in silence. Suddenly, Lucas got up and outstretched his arm, lifting Peyton off the couch.
"C'mere, I wanna show you something."
He led her inside her gallery and turned to face her, smiling when he saw that she had a raised eyebrow and her hands on her hips.
"You took me to see my own gallery? Thanks Lucas, just what I needed. I appreciate you showing me something so rare and so awe inspiring. It's like nothing I've ever seen before."
He smirked, "Down girl. Just come with me."
She rolled her eyes, yet still followed him when he took her to one of her oldest paintings.
"Remember this?"
Peyton nodded, "This was when I first met you, and I saw you playing basketball at the park. I remember thinking that seeing you play with such fluidity was beautiful and I wanted to capture it."
He stopped in front of each picture, staring hard. She joined him and placed her hand on his forearm.
"Do you remember this one? It was the day you first met Ellie. And this one? It was right after you found out your dad had been in an accident." Lucas said, his voice getting softer. "Peyton, this is a lifetime of work. Some of these paintings, I don't even know the whole story of, and I've known you since you were 20 and starving in the streets of Atlanta. So don't kill yourself if you've got nothing. It happens to the best of us sometimes."
"And what about this one?"
It was a portrait of Karen, a timeless beauty. It was a sitting portrait of her, but the delicate hues and her accentuated features made her appear both maternal and elegant. She was the epitome of a wonderful woman, both sweet and graceful.
A soft smile grew on her lips. "Your mom. She's the sweetest lady I know in this town. I gave that to her for her birthday last year."
Lucas smiled, "Yeah, she loves it – she loves you. I remember when I got home after my first semester, and I met you except I felt like I already knew you because of how much my mom loved to talk about you."
"Oh shut up!" she laughed, swatting his arm. "She did not talk about me that much."
Lucas snorted, "If only you knew."
"Well, what did she say?"
"I am not telling you."
"Please," pouted Peyton, "I'm curious."
"Well then ask her yourself. I am not indulging you with this." He smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly.
"Anyways," continued Lucas, "Lemme see what you've been working on."
Peyton groaned, tilting her head back and covering her face with her hands. "There is nothing. I've drawn stuff, decided that I suck and then crumpled it up and thrown it away."
"Well, what did you draw about?"
"I don't know, stuff…"
Lucas smiled, "Okay, well what do you usually draw about, because I'm pretty sure you didn't become this successful by drawing – how did you put it…stuff."
"No, I always drew whatever came to mind. Like when I was a kid, I'd draw all these angst ridden drawings because it was always me against the world. I'd draw lots of stuff about my mom, after she died. It was everything, really. I just drew what made me think."
"So," said Lucas, his entire face lighting up, "That's what you need."
"Another dead mom to top the charts with three, not two?"
"You need the inspiration and the fight you got from that. You know, the challenge you got from living your own life instead of sitting in your office or at home, willing yourself to draw something amazing. You've got to get up and get out there."
"What?" Peyton stared at him incredulously
"Go outside, go take a walk, talk to a stranger. Go find whatever it was that made you stop and pull out your sketchbook and then come back here and see what happens."
"Seriously?"
"As a heart attack. You're in a rut, Peyton. All this artwork," said Lucas, pointing to the vast gallery around him, "Was a lifetime of work, and you went through all of these experiences that made you want to draw. Is sitting in here really experiencing anything?"
-x-
Peyton took Lucas's advice and closed the gallery down early to go exploring the streets of Atlanta. She had moved to Georgia when she was 20 and went to the Savannah College of Art and Design for two years. Majoring in Arts Administration and dabbling with minors in Painting and Art History, it was really a surprise to none of her professors when they found out that she now owned her own local gallery. After graduation, she decided that she wanted to go somewhere different and ended up on a Greyhound going one way to Atlanta.
To follow Lucas's orders, Peyton wandered around downtown, going to her favorite shops and places that she hadn't been to in a while. She was now sitting on the steps of the Woodruff Arts Center, eating a vanilla ice cream cone and people watching. When she first came to Atlanta, these museums were some of her favorite places to go. Atlanta was an amazing city, filled with a little bit of everything. Seeing where Mildred Thompson, Norma Jean, Jack Johnson, and The Black Crowes were when they got their inspiration made her feel like she was experiencing something special and when she listened to their music or saw their artwork she smiled every time there was a reference made to Atlanta because she understood it.
Finishing off her ice cream, she stood up and walked down the steps, throwing away her napkins as she passed the trashcan. As she walked, Peyton felt her phone buzz in her purse and while she was digging through her bag to try and find where it was located, she didn't notice as she walked right into something very solid.
"Oof!" said Peyton, staggering backwards.
Before she could fall, the man she had bumped into grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her.
"I'm sorry," he said, letting go of her shoulders, "I should've been more careful."
She looked at him incredulously, "Please tell me you were apologizing to be polite."
He smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, but previous experience leads me to believe its best to say sorry and move on or else hear the wrath of the other person. It's worse if it's a girl."
Peyton laughed, "Well, I'm not one of those girls. This was totally my fault. I should've been watching where I was going, not trying to dig through my purse for my phone."
"Well, yeah, that was all your fault." He said playfully, and Peyton smiled, shaking her head.
"Do you want me to go psycho bitch on you? Cause lemme tell you, mister, it's not a funny sight." She said, smirking at how fast the grin faded off his face.
"Let's keep you at pretty and funny. Psycho doesn't need to be on the list."
She was about to say something in return when her phone started buzzing again and both of them laughed.
"I guess I should answer it while I'm stopped so that mishap doesn't repeat itself with someone else."
He nodded and smiled then turned around to keep walking. When he realized that he didn't know her name, he turned around to ask, but she had already turned the corner.
-x-
Peyton walked into Karen's cafÈ after her day of walking around and getting a fresh perspective. After bumping into that man – whose name she had forgotten to ask – she went to a little café to eat some lunch and hit the music store. She picked up a couple new releases that she'd been waiting for, and then wandered the town some more, stopping to talk to a particularly cute family of three. It had been one of the better days that she had recently.
Karen greeted her warmly when she came in, "Can I get you anything?"
She shook her head, "Just ate."
"So, how was your day?"
"Lucas told me that I'm in a rut and I need to get a life. It didn't exactly work though."
Karen clucked her tongue in sympathy. "I take it there wasn't much luck?"
"I didn't get any inspiration, but it was a nice day. I ambled around downtown for a while, bumped into a pretty cute guy, did some music shopping. Yeah, it was a pretty good day."
Karen smiled at Peyton and touched her hand, "Well, good for you, you deserve a good day."
"Thanks, Karen. Now, do you need any help?"
"Nonsense," she said, waving her hand "Keep sitting down and if my internal clock is right, Lucas should be coming back from the River Court in about ten minutes. Sit and chat with him."
Karen's clock was right on the dot, as ten minutes later, a sweaty Lucas came inside the café.
"Hey," he said, wrapping Peyton up in a hug, "What's up? How'd it go?"
"Eww! Don't touch me when you're all sweaty." She said, wiping the second hand sweat off her body. "It went pretty good. It wasn't anything special, but it was a good day."
He nodded, "It'll come. But, I do have an idea that may help it along."
"What's your great idea?"
Lucas reached in the pockets of his shorts, trying to find something. "I swear I had them…oh, they're at home." Looking up, he said to her, "There's an open mic night downtown and those things are always fun, so I took the liberty of buying us tickets."
"Cool," she said, hopping off the barstool, "pick me up at 7."
"Where're you going?" he asked confusedly.
" I just found my excuse to buy the cute top I saw downtown!" said Peyton excitedly, "Thanks, Luke. I'll see you tonight." After kissing him on the cheek, and making a face because of the sweat, she left out the door, happier than he'd seen her in days.
-x-
Lucas showed up on her doorstep at 7:10pm, freshly showered and shaven, clad in jeans and a plaid button down.
"Hey," she said as she opened the door, "Just give me five minutes."
He laughed and closed the door behind him as he entered her home, "I'm ten minutes late!"
"Oh, shut up!" she called from the bathroom door that she'd disappeared into.
He plopped down on the chair by her desk and spun around to keep himself entertained. That worked for about two seconds before he started to get dizzy.
"Peyton!"
"Two more minutes, I promise."
He groaned, "I'm getting old here! And I'm going through your music."
"Done!"
He laughed, "Finally!" Taking a moment to look her over, he whistled appreciatively. "Wow, you're kinda hot."
"Yeah?" Peyton leaned against the doorway of her bathroom, one hand on her hip, the other on the doorframe above her head.
She was wearing a stretchy green halter top that stopped a couple inches before it met the top of her dark wash skinny jeans, leaving inches of exposed, toned skin on display. Her hair was in curls, worn simple and down. She was hot.
"Well come on Lucas," she said from outside her room, "We're already twenty minutes late."
"Yeah? Well whose fault is that?" he called back, jogging slightly to catch up to her.
She stuck her tongue out, "I had to look good. Besides, you like my top? It's new."
When she turned around, it gave him a perfect view of her back. "Oh yeah, I love this top." He muttered.
-x-
When they got to the open mic night, it was already in full swing. There were people bustling about, and there was a really good girl on stage singing a cover of Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah.
"Hey," said Peyton, leaning over to speak to Lucas, "Thanks."
He nodded and smiled and both turned their heads back to watch the act. After about ten minutes, there was a lull in the performances.
"You want a drink?" asked Lucas, motioning to the bar.
She nodded, "Thanks."
"Well, well, well," said a voice just after Lucas disappeared in the crowd, "What is this? Psycho bitch part two?"
Shocked, Peyton turned to her left only to find the man whom she'd bumped into earlier that day. She laughed, "You haven't even seen Psycho bitch part one. No one lives through that."
He laughed heartily, "I'm shaking in my boots."
"Oh, you should be."
"Hey, listen," he said pulling up a chair next to her, "I was going to ask your name earlier, but you rounded the corner before I got a chance."
"Peyton Sawyer." she said, extending her hand.
"Jake Jagleski." he responded, reaching his hand out to meet hers, "Wow, nice handshake."
When she looked down at his hand, she noticed a gold wedding band on his left hand and she was just debating asking him if he was married when they were interrupted.
"Hey everyone," came a voice over the microphone, "We'd love to start playing for y'all whenever our lead singer decides to stop flirting with those pretty girls."
Jake cringed, nodding his head towards the stage. "Duty calls."
"Who was that?" asked Lucas as he came back with two drinks in his hand, watching the guy he didn't know walk away from his best friend.
"The lead singer of that band up there." Answered Peyton as she took the drink from his hand. "He's the guy I bumped into today."
"What guy?" Lucas was confused.
"I didn't tell you? I was out front of Woodruff and my phone rang, and I was trying to fish it out of my bag, but I bumped into him by accident."
Lucas snorted, "Ever so graceful, Sawyer."
She lightly swatted his arm and they both turned their attention back to the stage.
Jake Jagielski, it turned out, was the lead singer and guitar player for the band Chord Story. His voice was raw and filled with emotion, but it was also amazing and raspy, which captured the audience's attention. It wasn't his voice that mesmerized her though. For Peyton, watching him play guitar was like magic. The way he played, with fluidity and the experience of a man who was at least twice his age, was more than just impressive, it was incredible. His hands flew through the cords as if they never hit the strings making it look almost easy, although she knew it wasn't.
His band sang two originals and covered three songs and by the end of the set Peyton was in awe. This man was amazing. When the set was over, the entire house clapped wildly.
Lucas leaned over to speak in Peyton's ear, "I bet you're glad I brought you here, huh?"
Seeing Jake send her a wink from the stage, Peyton replied, "Most definitely."