She could hardly believe that was her reflection. So old, with silver hair and faded eyes. This old lady, in the dark blue dress, with her wrinkled skin and shaky legs just couldn't be the same Brooke Davis who ran one of the greatest fashion companies of all time, who, in her high school days would flirt constantly with the boys and go skinny dipping.
But thank God she wasn't fat. And thank God that she wasn't dressed like an old lady, all flowery beige and walking sticks. Her blue dress, however simple, fit her perfectly. The gold necklace which her husband had gifted her glittered in the hollow of her throat. And, as she turned around to leave her room, her wedding ring flashed proudly in the sunlight, as gleaming and beautiful as it had been 62 years ago.
She walked down the stairs carefully, one step at a time. How she loved her house, but it seemed empty and still now, with no Julian in it. Brooke could still hardly believe that she was the last of her circle left. Lucas had died first, 10 years ago. Peyton had been broken, she remembered. She could hardly bear to go on living, not even for the sake of Sawyer, Anna and their children. She had died, 14 months later. Then Nathan, Haley, Clay, Quinn, Millie, Mouth, all left her one by one. And 2 years ago, Julian. Oh, how she missed him. 60 years with him hadn't been enough. A thousand years with him wouldn't be enough.
She put her foot down on the landing, heavily. A small shelf hung just above her, and a huge, red leather album caught her eye. She smiled, and struggling to put it under her arm, sat down in her favorite, cushiony armchair. On the first page was her wedding photo. Julian had his arm around her, and he was grinning. That grin still made her heart beat faster, all these years later. How happy they looked! More photos of their wedding followed: with Haley, Nathan and Jamie, Millie and Mouth, their parents, people whom she didn't even remember now. Then Davis and Jude: their homecoming from the hospital, their first day of school, Davis' first football game, Jude's first interstate debate. Their graduation…they looked so handsome, with their identical curly brown locks, hazel eyes and dimpled smiles.
They had left home now of course, and were married, Davis to Anna, Luke and Peyton's daughter and Jude to his college girlfriend, Lisa. They had kids too; Leslie, Andy and, the baby of the family, now 21 years old, Brooke Hazel Baker.
Brooke smiled and turned the page. There was a picture of Jamie, 10 years old, with his big grin and an arm each around Madison and Andre. She'd taken that picture; on his birthday party…there were Haley and Nathan in the background, handing out cake, and Quinn taking pictures of the bouncy castle.
Then, a picture of Quinn, Clay and Logan holding the newest addition to their family, Ryan Jimmy Evans. He looked like the perfect blend of both of them, Brooke thought, with Quinn's eyes and hair, and Clay's face. Now, he was a world renowned botanist, and lived in Brazil.
Brooke sighed. Times had changed so much. It was strange, she thought, to walk down the street to those two little corner shops, which meant the world to her…but they weren't hers anymore. Millie's daughter, Megan was in charge of Baker Man now. Brooke just stopped by a couple of times a week, to admire the new designs. And as for Karen's Café, it remained in the family. Lydia managed it now, juggling being a journalist, a mother and a business woman rather well. There was a picture of it somewhere…the day she and Haley had opened it again. The two of them were standing in front of the door, with their arms around each other, and identical smiles plastered onto their faces. And just a few months later, there they were again, this time, with their kids. Nathan had just come home…she didn't even know who had taken the picture. It might have been the waitress, for all she knew.
There was one last picture of that era, of babies and businesses, kidnappings and killings. They were all sitting at that big round table at Karen's Café, smiling happily. Haley and Brooke were sitting in the center, with Lydia and Jude bouncing on their laps. Julian sat next to Brooke, one arm holding Davis, the other snaked around her waist, and Alex and Chase sitting next to him, grinning at each other. Nathan sat with Haley, his arms around Jamie, who was pretend wresting with Logan while Chuck kept score with glee, and Clay and Quinn, smiling softly at each other, watched on indulgently. Chris Keller sat next to them, stroking his guitar, and trying to flirt with anybody and everybody. As she looked into the still faces of her friends, sitting in the warm, familiar glow of the place where she had grown up, in more ways than one, Brooke felt more alone than ever. They had left her, one by one, and she didn't know what to do without them.
Trying to shake off the impending feelings of misery and despair, she turned to the end of the album, and immediately wished that she hadn't. There were 4 pictures on the next pages. The first was taken under a bridge, 2 young girls, barely 11 were sitting with their arms around each other. One was blonde, with curly, messy hair, a black tee shirt, ripped jeans and sneakers. The other was a brunette, wearing a rather lot of lip gloss as well as a pink shirt and denim mini skirt. It wasn't hard to figure out who they were.
The next picture was of the same girls, much older now. Grey and white had replaced the once shining blonde and dark brown locks, concert tee shirts and skirts had been discarded in favor of knee length dark dresses, the glowing faces were now full of wrinkles. But the smiles were as bright as ever, the green eyes and the brown still sparkled mischievously and the hands were clasped as tightly as they were 50 years ago.
A tear rolled down Brooke's cheek, and dropped on to the page. She hastily tried to brush it away, but the tears just kept flowing. It had been 7 years since she had talked to her best friend in the world, Peyton Sawyer. She had been her rock, her support system. It had hurt her so much, when Peyton had decided that she just couldn't live, after Luke died. She had shut Brooke out, and that horrible day when she found Peyton asleep forever, in her bed, was still imprinted vividly in Brooke's mind. Trying to stop the tears, Brooke looked at the next picture. It was of her house…Brooke, Julian, their sons and their parents were all standing on the porch, and Brooke smiled, as she remembered what it was like to be that girl…with the bewitching smile and the fiery personality, the exuberant exterior and the fragile heart. Forever, the girl behind the red door.
The last picture, however, stopped the tears and Brooke smiled as she stroked the miniature, frozen versions of herself and her friends, so many, many years ago. They were on the River Court, on their last day. She didn't know who had clicked the picture, but how did it matter? It was perfect. Nathan and Lucas were standing in the middle of the court, the ball between them, and the look of brotherly affection/ rivalry so evident, that nobody could help but smile. Bevin and Skills had their arms around each other, and Junk and Fergi were sitting at the sidelines, goofy smiles plastered on their faces. Rachel and Mouth were sitting close together, with Peyton right behind them, her hand covering her face as she laughed. And Brooke herself was sandwiched between Chase and Haley, all of them eagerly looking at what was the end of that era.
She sighed. Her legs felt like lead, and her breathing was uneven. She was tired…so tired. Her eyes closed, seemingly on their own, the album slid further down her lap, and a last, little breath escaped her. Brooke Davis was dead. Her ring still glittered, and a peaceful smile graced her features. And her hand rested on the picture for a few seconds, an echo of times gone by, before slipping to the floor gently. The brilliant, beautiful, brave woman, who had broken so many hearts, and changed so many lives, had gone. She had died, and taken with her the fading memories and stories untold of golden years long gone.