So, first story. Title taken from a song by Cassino. It'll be following Brooke, and an OC of mine mostly, but some POV's will change it up. This will feature spoilers/possible spoilers for S6, so be warned. However this will be more of my own timeline and take of what could be. Set in S6 and I'm thinking about the chapters (after the initial introductions and whatev) being in more of an episodic format. Rated T for some language and whatnot. I figure since they've been bringing in the most random of characters for Brooke (Chase, Owen?) I could bring my own, ha. Eventual Brooke/O.C femslash, mhmm. Some NH lovin' and mentions of LP. But, hell, I don't even know what could go on later.

And my rantings are finished

I own nothin' – ferserious.

Brooke Davis was many things at the moment; surprised, flustered, restless, slightly buzzed and a tad bit bloated.

It had been only two hours prior that she had received the phone call informing her that she was indeed being considered as a possible candidate for adoption. 20 minutes after this she was subjected to the unusually perky voice of Peyton informing her that she was currently in Las Vegas, minutes away from becoming the lovely Mrs. Scott.

It was at this moment that Brooke Penelope Davis truly knew what it was like to feel conflicted. She had been in the midst of a fabulous Haagen Dazs binge, relishing in the news of a possible adoption somewhere in the future. It was Chocolate-Chocolate, but for this occasion, her next meal seemed much like necessary collateral damage.

So naturally, after half a pint of pure chocolate bliss, she calls Peyton.

"Brooke!" - Evidently, inebriated Peyton is a shrill Peyton.

"P.Sawyer, you will never belie-"

"Lucas and I, we're getting married!"

And the line went dead. Brooke's heart may have stopped; but that is debatable. The thought of honeymoon rituals being performed pre-ceremony, however was enough to bring her out of this stupor. And so, Brooke's post-adoption news honeymoon phase (oh, the irony) was done with.

But why the marriage bothered her, she wasn't sure. And that's how the fabulous and composed Brooke Davis found herself at 1:30 in the morning, pacing the floor of Clothes Over Bro's. Brow furrowed, arms flailing, incoherent mumbling, full on marching.

"Pep talk B.Davis – this is great news. This is fan-friggin'-tastic news. Finally, really. I mean this has been years in the making. I don't love Lucas. No. Then there is absolutely no problem. Whatsoever."

Contemplative Brooke walked herself through ever square inch of that building. Every tile and wall, until she realized, it was not about her loving anyone; and that was just the problem.

Maybe that made her a little bit jealous of the Broody-bunch. Maybe it made her envious, or some other deadly sin. But Brooke Penelope Davis deserves love. And, maybe, a little part of her needs it.

The bus had been late arriving to the terminal. Then it had hit traffic – the kind with police officers and big, light up orange signs. So, naturally it didn't pull in to the Tree Hill Bus Station until 1:42 a.m, Eastern Standard Time.

And, of course, Jess Landry is not a morning person.

The man she had sat next to seemed to form bonds rather quickly, so therefore, out of the risk of seeming rude, Jess had listened to him lecture on about the importance of a good Cornerback, and something else related to athletics.

Not that it was a terrible ride – she'd had worse – but the whole reason for this trip added to the "suck factor."

Her cousin was dead. Or, half-cousin, as she had explained many times – due to the fact Jessica Clark Landry was one of the whitest girls you could meet. But, even being "half-cousins," Quentin had been one of her best friends, he was her "little cuz", and now he was dead.

She had spoken with him 2 weeks ago. Her 22nd birthday he had called to say hello, they'd talked about basketball, school, everything really, and then she'd had to go. Never had she regretted anything more in her life.

So now she was on her way to her Aunts. Quentin's stepmother, her mother's sister. She would stay there for the week. Attend the funeral, help square Aunt Grace away. It was simple, but, far from it. And Jess had never wished for a freak automobile accident more in her life.

Pushing her sandy blonde locks out of her eyes and pulling her leather jacket tight around her, she trudged off of the bus, guitar case in one hand, travel bag in the other.

She was used to this, traveling alone – it was calming, relaxing, gives time to think.

It takes about 7 seconds for her to decide calling her aunt or uncle would be rude, and, since she knows where the house is – she might as well walk. So, that's what she does. She walks and thinks and breathes – and figures, maybe this will be alright.

everyone's afraid of their own life
if you could be anything you want
i bet you'd be disappointed, am i right?

So there you are for chapter uno. Lyrics at the end from "Lives" by Modest Mouse. You'll get more of a background on Jess throughout the story. I've got the next few chapters pretty much done, so I'll be putting 'em up soon if it's worth it. Reviews are cool, but not necessary – knowing what you think it great!