Brooke sat across the table looking into his big brown eyes. No matter how mad she was at the boy, those eyes always made her heart melt.
"Do you understand why I'm so mad, Bryson?" Brooke softly asked; hoping he fully grasped the gravity of the situation.
"I guess. It wasn't my fault though. I told Victoria I didn't want to do some stupid magazine article. Not today, of all days." The young boy pushed his plate back & leaned back in his chair.
Brooke had gotten a phone call from a security guard from the People Magazineoffices. Apparently Victoria had picked Bryson up from school & forced him to do an interview with them, without Brooke's knowledge. It was some "life after tragedy," thing they were doing and Victoria saw it as free publicity. About 5 questions into it, Bryson, flipped out and threw the photographer's camera across the room. He was actually aiming for Victoria; unfortunately, he missed.
Brooke realized that it wasn't Bryson she was really angry with, but her mother; Victoria Davis is the only woman she knew who would try to capitalize on an innocent child's pain. Even so, the way Bryson handled was definitely out of line.
"I don't care." Brooke's voice became stern. "You know better. There's no excuse to make a scene the way you did today. You could have called me and told me all this was going on."
"I texted you before & I never heard back from you. You were probably too busy anyway, it wouldn't have mattered." At first Brooke was angry at the fact he insinuated she was "too busy," for him, but she realized things at work had been pretty hectic lately. "Listen, it's over. I'm sorry. I'll apologize at a press conference; go on television or, whatever. I just want to go home right now, please." He pleaded with the older woman.
As Brooke & Bryson exited the restaurant, a slew of photographers bombarded them. "Ms. Davis, is it true your son attacked a reporter earlier today?" The two ignored the comments and got into their car and drove away.
When they walked into their apartment, Bryson sat down in front of the tv and began watching ESPN.
"Room." Brooke says as she puts her bag on the kitchen counter. "I have to make some phone calls, but I'll be in there when I'm finished."
With an eye roll, Bryson turns off the tv and heads to his room. "If he didn't make the headlines today, He will after I kill him." Brooke thinks, out loud and starts dialing phone numbers.
"Well, I got everything straightened out with the magazine. You just need to post an apology online, for good measure." Brooke walks into Bryson's room and finds him staring up at the ceiling above his bed.
"Whatever." He throws a nerf basketball up in the air. This ticked Brooke off.
"That's enough attitude. I didn't do anything; you have no right to treat me like that." She grabbed the ball and threw it on the floor. When Bryson didn't reply, she shook her head and walked out.
"Wait," He sat up. "I'm sorry." The words hurt coming out. "I shouldn't have done it. I was just upset and I freaked out a little bit. I should have just called you." He hung his head down.
Brooke walked over to him and started rubbing his back. "Hey, you can talk about it with me. I was there, too, ya know."
"It's just. I don't want him to be remembered as some poor, sad soul. I don't want them to feel sorry for him, and I don't want them to feel sorry for me. I don't even want people to even call me his son."
"Come on." Brooke slid under the blanket. Bryson laid his head on her chest and she stroked his hair. "I'm sorry my mother did that to you. Even she should know better. You are old enough now to be able to make your own decisions when it comes to your dad. If you want the truth to be known, I can make that happen. I've always wanted it to be your decision though. He was your dad; you're the only one that has that right."
"I just don't want to deal with it anymore. It's no one's business. I do want the truth out there, but not right now. I just don't even want to be in this damn city. I don't want to be reminded of him every time I turn around."
"I know. Me either." Brooke replied, honestly. As Bryson drifted off to sleep, her mind wandered back exactly 5 years earlier, to her holding a much smaller version of Bryson.
(Flashback)
"Brookie, why did daddy do that to himself?" The tiny, brown hair boy asked as he jumped under his Toy Story blankets with the woman.
"Buddy, daddy, he was just…" Brooke struggled to find the words to say to the nine year old. "He was really sick. And when people are sick, like your daddy, it makes them do things that they wouldn't do before."
Bryson shakes his head like he understood, but really He couldn't wrap his mind around everything he saw that day. He witnessed his own father shoot himself in the head.
"Brookie, can I tell you a secret?"
"Of course, you can. Your secrets are always safe with me." Brooke kissed the top of his head.
"Daddy said he did the same thing to mommy. That's why she never got to know me."
Brooke's heart dropped. She felt tears forming in her eyes, but she held them back so the young boy didn't see. His father, her boyfriend- shot his own wife and got away with it for ten years. What kind of monster was he? How could she not have noticed? Fear was all she felt. She was dating a psychopath. This child had been living with a psychopath, for ten years.
"Like I said bry, your daddy was really sick…" boy, was that the truth. Those words took on a whole new meaning. "But, I do know your mommy would have loved to watch you grow up."
"Think so?" he looked up at the woman.
"I know so. You're the coolest kid ever."
Bryson had a faint smile on his face. If that's the case, his dad sure didn't think so. He stayed quiet for a minute and Brooke could tell his wheels were turning.
"Ya know, I bet my mom was cool. But, I'm glad I have you though. I KNOW you're a cool mom."
Brooke woke up in the middle of the night to the phone ringing. She was so happy to see Peyton's number on the caller ID. Peyton knew what today was, and she called every year to try and distract her friend from all the memories it held.. She never mentioned it, but Brooke knew why she was calling. Peyton just needed to hear her best friend tonight though. God, she missed her.
"Do you ever miss it, Brooke?"
"Miss what, Tree Hill?"
"Home…" that word hit Brooke like a ton of bricks. Of course she missed it. She wanted to go back there so bad.
"Every day, . Every day."
"Let's go back then…." At first Brooke said no. she couldn't take Bryson away from his home. Then the words her son said danced across her mind. He wanted to leave New York just as bad as she did. This wasn't his home anymore, anyway. It hadn't been in 5 years.
After she finished her conversation with her best friend, she crawled back in bed with Bryson. "Don't worry buddy. Tomorrow we are going home." She whispered.