One.

Dumping her black leather Urban Outfitters shoulder bag down on the floor, Peyton collapsed horizontally across her bed. She didn't even have the energy to walk over to the window to smoke a cigarette. She had just finished a meeting across town with some executives at the record label about a new band she wanted to sign, and it had taken hours for them to even consider drawing up a contract. She was exhausted.

A few days earlier, Peyton had received an email completely out of the blue, informing her that her former best friend Nate Archibald was returning to the city, and that he wanted to meet up. She'd spoken to her other best friend, Brooke Waldorf about it, but Brooke had seemed apprehensive, even uneasy about the reunion. Peyton didn't feel anxious about seeing him, just excited. The last time she remembered seeing him, he'd been on Summer Break from college, and he'd just disembarked from The Charlotte, his fathers boat. She remembered the light of his green eyes as they'd hugged, the way his hair had smelt salty, his tan and strong arms wrapping around her. She'd missed her best friend, his warm laugh, his way of making her feel completely at ease and the way he stood, always with his shoulders a little hunched, as if he hadn't quite grown into his body yet. She wondered whether or not Blair and Nate were still together, they'd always had a tumultuous relationship in high school, one day they were completely infatuated with each other and making frequent visits to Tiffany's, the next Blair would be screaming at Nate all over town and he would hole himself up his parents penthouse for days. Peyton knew about this because she and Brooke were the only ones allowed to see him when he was like that, and because they were the ones who sat and watched low rate car movies with him in an attempt to cheer him up. Most of the time they just ended up drinking Martinis and raiding his parents closet, trying on the thousands of dollars worth of haute couture that Mr and Mrs Archibald had accumulated over the years. Sometimes Peyton regretted not following her friends to college, but she had Brooke had opted to stay in the city and pursue their dreams, Brooke in a fashion internship and Peyton in music. And they'd both benefited, Peyton was an A&R executive for a major record label and Brooke's fashion line Clothes' over Bros was sold in every major department store in America, and she regularly had her designs shown in Bryant Park. Nate had taken the route his parents, particularly his Father had always wanted for him, going to Dartmouth, but as it turned out, it was the path Nate wanted too. He'd always said that he never wanted to become his Father, but at Dartmouth he fit in completely. She'd always believed that she, Brooke and Nate would be best friends all of their lives. But it obviously hadn't worked out that way as Peyton hadn't seen Nate since the summer after he'd started college, and she was pretty sure Brooke hadn't see him either. It broke her heart a little to think that their friendship had gone completely out of the window. Rolling over on to her side, she noticed the 'message received' button was flashing on her home phone. Pressing the button, she flopped backwards to listen to her voicemail. She didn't even realise who it was for a moment. Hey… extremely long pause It's me. I've been meaning to call… I guess I just didn't get around to it. Call me sometime. My number is the same. Then the generic woman's voice cut in with 'End of messages.' Julian. That was Julian. Her mind struggled to process the details. Her ex-boyfriend had just called, she couldn't even remember what he had said, she was in too much of a state of shock. Shutting her eyes, she pulled her hair over her face and tried to blot out the inevitable onslaught of questions filling her head. Suddenly she felt the need to smoke an entire packet of cigarettes.

Stepping neatly out of the yellow cab and onto the chewing-gum spattered sidewalk, Brooke Waldorf propped up the collar of her Ted Baker cape against the chilly Fall wind. Her shoulder length chocolate brown hair whipped against her cheeks as she entered the expanse and lively dining room of Blue Water Grill, a seafood restaurant that her and Lucas Scott - one of her life long friends - frequented. As she approached their usual table which featured a view of across Broadway.

Typically Brooke didn't hold seafood restaurants in high esteem, the fresh fishy smell of a newly caught haul constantly reminded her of her former best friend Nate Archibald and his sailboat/general ocean obsession. She had spent many a happy summer during her teen years on his Father's expensive yacht The Charlotte and they were some of her best memories. Visiting The Barrier Reef, scuba diving in amongst the exotic and coral with her two best friends was the height of her vacations. Brooke could recall lying out on the deck in a miniscule La Perla with Peyton who always insisted on wearing an oversized Angels and Airwave t-shirt to protect her fair skin.

Plucking the menu from the table she was now seated at, her dark hazel eyes scanned the list of meals and as she turned order a drink from the passing waitress she heard a familiar voice call her name.

"Brooke!"

Through the throng of restaurant customers Lucas Scott's handsome smiling face appeared and she returned his grin. "Luke, it's good to see you."

Lucas had been on a six week book tour, promoting his latest bestseller Hi, Society a novel about the inner workings of the Upper East Side and his upbringing in this debauched circle of New York's elite. He had been accompanied by Dan Humphrey, another mutual friend, who also happened to be a writer.

"It's good to be back, I've missed this place," he wrapped his strong muscled arms around her petite figure and Brooke felt the familiar security of his embrace. They both took their seats and ordered matching San Pellegrino's from the hovering waitress.

"So how was the book tour?" Brooke enquired, crossing her left leg over the right underneath the table. "Did Humphrey enjoy himself?"

"Dan definitely did, our first night in Boston he hooked up with this model from California and ended up taking her back to the hotel," Lucas laughed, remembering the eventful evening "I'm so glad we didn't end up sharing a room."

Dan Humphrey had never been the popular type back in high school, so hearing about his various sexual escapades had came as shock to Brooke at first, but now Dan had earned a reputation as a womanizer and was known possessing a penchant for models.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Brooke smirked. "But how was the trip for you?"

"Well, it was great to talk to the public about the book, but I found most of the promotional parties dull, they were full of aged business magnates and their surgically enhanced wives," he smiled ruefully "It would have been so much more entertaining if you were there."

"I do have my ways of making situations easier to endure," Brooke responded proudly, raising a diamond bracelet adorned hand to her chest. "We should order, I'm starving."

"Sure thing." Flagging a waiter with a wave of his wrist, Lucas quickly perused the menu.

"I'll have a Caesar salad, no dressing," Brooke requested, smiling politely and handing her menu to the monochrome dressed server. She glanced expectantly at Lucas.

"I'll have the Bass," the waiter nodded, noting down their orders and leaving the table. "Speaking of Bass', how is Charles?"

"According to the Post he's the new CEO of Bass Industries, Bart was in an accident, he passed away last week."

Lucas widened his eyes, they had both known Chuck since they were children as the elite families had all summered together at one point or another (this group included the Waldorfs, Sawyers, Basses, Scotts and Archibalds.)

Even since he was a young boy, Chuck had always wanted to please his Father, but unfortunately it would seem that Bart had died before Chuck had been able to achieve anything of consequence.

"That's terrible," Lucas' voice expressed real sympathy. "I mean, I never liked the guy but I wouldn't wish that on anybody."

"He's not handling it well, last I heard he was seen completely stoned out of his mind in Dubai, no doubt he'll have run out of money in a couple of years," Brooke shook her head "He'll either end up broke or dead, maybe even both."

"Well that's a nice a morbid thought for lunch," he chortled, attempting to lighten the mood of the situation. "Service in this place is quick, right? I have a three o'clock conference call."

On cue, their plates of food arrived. Setting them down on the table, the server removed the silver hood with a flourish to reveal Brooke's understated salad and Lucas' steaming sea bass.

"Thank you," they both chorused, and Brooke spread a pristinely white napkin across her lap before prodding a fork into a lettuce leaf.

"So how's Peyton?" Lucas enquired, spreading a thick layer of ginger-soy sauce along the length of his lunch. "I haven't seen her in a while."

"She's good, she's doing really well at work, you should hear her talk about it, she's doing exactly what her black, emo heart has always dreamed of."

"Oh, how I miss her cynicism, and sarcastic quips," he chuckled "Dan doesn't even come close, although he does try."

"She's an interesting character, that's for sure," Brooke giggled, popping a crouton into her Chanel lipstick coated mouth and crunching down. "But we wouldn't have her any other way."

"Enough about everyone else, how have you been Waldorf?" he questioned.

"Same old, same old, if I were to write a memoir it would pretty much be the same chapter over and over again," she admitted, sighing solemnly "My highlight of last week was discovering a sale at Diane Von Furstenberg."

"Diane Von who?"

"See, this is why I'm in fashion and you're in books."

"Suddenly it all makes sense to me," Lucas placed his cutlery onto his plate. "Sorry to cut this short, but I've run out of time and if I miss that call my head will roll."

"And who will be removing your head?"

"My publisher, Lindsay," he stood and tugged his jacket onto his broad shoulders.

"Ah, Lindsay, when are we getting to meet the infamous girlfriend," she asked, standing to her feet and buttoning her cape.

"If I had it my way, never, she's not very Upper East Side… Which is a good thing."

"Oh, really? Why are us Upper East Side girls too much for you?" she teased.

"They're definitely a lot, but this one girl, Brooke Waldorf, she just takes the cake."

Brooke rolled her eyes as they hugged. "It was good seeing you Scott, don't be a stranger."

"I wouldn't dare," he smiled, disappearing into the crowd.