Chapter 1
This is what it's like now, almost every week. Hell, almost every night. It's like its fashion show after fashion show. And here I am, sitting in the front row, with my assistant doing everything I ask. Which of course isn't a bad thing. But every fashion show I get seated front row, centre, and it's like everyone is seeking my approval. I basically determine the future of these small time designers, and sometimes it's hard to say no… because once upon a time, I was them.
Once upon a time, I was also in love. But some things change.
I give the smallest of frowns and I can already see people in the back discretely getting up and leaving. The line is okay, but I've seen it before. Just like all the other wannabe-trend-setters in New York. But you know, sometimes I don't mind it. This one hour of every day it gives me a chance to think about her. Okay, I hate this hour because it gives me a chance to think about her, and all the pain I went through to get where I am. It never goes away.
I slowly and quietly lean closer to my assistant and she leans in as well.
"I'm done" I whisper and she nods. Within seconds she's calling the limo driver to pull up. In the middle of the fashion show I get up and double kiss the important people to my left and right. I don't even know who they are. But they know me. Just before I leave I turn back to look at what ever outfit is on stage and I look it up and down and nod in approval, just so I'm not too mean. That outfit will be one of the hottest outfits next week, and it's all because of one head nod. That's the power I have.
I exit the building, putting my sunglasses on, even though it's basically dark now. Security holds the photographers back as I gracefully make my way to the limo conveniently in front of me. I get in and my assistant follows closely behind. The door is shut and the car is gone.
"Brooke, as a designer it is your job to at least stay until the show is over" Victoria says to me.
"it was going no where" I say staring blankly out the window, even though no one can tell with my sunglasses on.
"that doesn't matter, now everyone's going to think you don't take this seriously!" she yells. She continues to yell to, but I've learned to block her voice out over the years. One of my hidden talents. "Brooke, are you listening to me?!" she interrupts my thoughts.
"no" I reply simply. She lets out an annoyed sigh. If she was any normal mom, she would know that I haven't acted the same in 5 years. If she was a real mom she could see that I had my heart broken. But she's not a mom, she's my manager. Biologically, she's my mom, but nothing else. She wasn't there when I was growing up, so she doesn't know what I was like. That's the only reason she tolerates me now. That and I'm a famous fashion designer.
"Brooke" Millicent, my assistant, says to me. "Peyton called for you during the show" she informs me.
"phone" I say holding my palm out. She passes me my cell phone and I start dialling. Calling my friends it the only thing I look forward to during the day.
"hey B" she answers the phone.
"hey, P. Sawyer, you called?"
"yeah, I wanted to see how you were doing?"
"I'm fine" I lie. "just finishing with another fashion show.
"you bailed halfway through didn't you?" she knows me so well.
"yeah"
"you were thinking about her, weren't you?" she asks me, already knowing what the answer is.
"… yeah" I don't even bother lying.
"how long has it been Brooke, 5 years? When are you going to let her go?"
"I don't know… I don't even know if I can"
"it's like you've been extra depressed lately."
"can't help who you love…" I shrug, even though she can't see it. "speaking of love, how's the boyfriend doing?" she and Lucas are still going strong if you're wondering. At least they were able to stay together the last 5 years.
"he's good. He's home, working away on his writing and I'm about to go out and do some work too" she owns her own label. She's got her life together and I'm happy for her.
"have you heard from Rachel, lately?"
"um… last I heard she was in Toronto for a shoot" photo shoot, she's a model. Model for Clothes over Bros, actually.
"yeah, I should have probably known that actually…" I say not participating in the conversation too much. I think she can sense my un-happiness.
"Brooke" she sighs. "stop doing that"
"doing what?"
"feeling sad. All this depression is bumming me out"
"sorry" I say softly, but I still can't manage to get my happy level up.
"… do you really miss her that much?" she asks. And it seems like we haven't even really talked about her in a long time. She knows it's still a sore subject for me and probably always will be.
"… all the time" I reply, no higher than a whisper.
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"Miss. James, they're ready for you on stage" the male sound board operator tells me. I give him the slightest nod and he exits the room shutting the door behind him.
It's been 5 years since I've seen her, if you're wondering. 5 long years. And for every concert I've had, the only thing flashing through my mind before I hit that stage is her. There's no reason for me to think of her, but it's like she's etched into my mind. Every little thing about her is burned into my head; the way she smells, her scratchy voice in the morning, the way she crinkles her nose when she's confused or sees something corny. Everything.
And it doesn't matter how hard I try. She will always be there. I finally take my deep breath and grab my guitar and head to the stage. I hear the loud screams and shouting of the thousands of fans awaiting my songs, my voice, my music. They're all here for me.
Too bad the only person I want to be here, isn't.
I have my guitar in one hand as I pace over to the stairs that lead up. On my way I high five my manager and without a breath of hesitation I jog up the stairs and in front of all my fans.
I will never forget this feeling as long I will live. The feeling of being wanted by everyone in the room. If she was in the room I'd probably be able to feel it. Listen to me. Her. I can't even say her name. How pathetic is that?
"What's up Los Angeles?" I yell into the microphone placed strategically at the front of the stage. I receive a loud yell back that's nearly deafening. 10 000 people stand in this stadium, all here for one reason. Me.
So why doesn't it feel like it's enough?
Five years ago is when it all began… or should I say when it all ended. It was five years ago that she and I broke up. We were so in love. More love than most people see in a life time. But she had her fashion, and I had my music. Our lives were just starting, everything had been planned down to the tee. Everything but my relationship with my girlfriend. She was doing the fashion thing in New York, and I was doing the music thing… well everywhere. I was going on tour, that's why.
Things eventually got better, for the both of us. She started her own line, and I was able to get signed to a record company for a few years. I was happy. On the outside. She seemed happy too. But then again, I don't know what her life was really like.
I tried seeing her a few years ago, but one thing led to another and I just didn't end up going. Sometimes I regret that moment. I always wonder what my life would have been like is she and I had stayed together. What if we didn't have that fight at the end of graduation?
Flashback
"are you ready to conquer the world, Haley James?" Brooke asks me as we take a stroll down the street.
"Brooke, I think we need to talk about something…"
"what?"
"I'm not going to college next year" I say and she immediately stops.
"what do you mean? I thought you wanted to go to Stanford and I was going to live near you and work on my line" she says.
"look, you can still work on your line, but I'm not going to Stanford"
"then what are you doing?" she asked, confused as hell.
"I-I… This guy offered me a spot on this tour. I'd be one of the opening acts for Gavin Degraw"
"…but what about us?" she whispers in pain.
"I'm sorry Brooke, but I need to go after my dream and you need to go after yours. You can't be the fashion designer you want to be if I'm holding you back"
"but you're not holding me back. Me and you. We'll be together. That's part of my dream too"
"I know but… your other dream is more important"
"I think I'll be the judge of that" she sneers through small tears.
"fine, then I think I need to put my music career before my other dreams…"
"… and before me" she concludes. I don't respond, anything else will just make the situation a whole lot worse than it actually is. "… can't we just work a long distance relationship? I mean I'm willing to make it work if you are" she pleads.
"I'm sorry Brooke, but you said you wouldn't do anything to stand in the way of my dreams, and I won't stand in the way of yours. Because I know, that one day you're going to be an amazing designer, that's your dream"
"you're right, it is my dream. And I won't stand in the way of yours. I just thought that your dream would have included me too…" she says only letting a single tear drop from her eye. She's too strong to let anymore be taken over by gravity.
End of Flashback
To this day, it still breaks my heart thinking about what happened. But she's moved on with her life… and so have I. Well, that's what I claim, at least. "alright L.A., let's get this show on the road!" I yell into the microphone and get on with the show.
This is my dream. Just not all of it.
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"alright, thank you guys for coming out to see me, it was a great night!" I say fakely as I take a bow and exit the way I came onto the stage. The crowd is still cheering as I head off of the stage. As soon as I'm down I hand my guitar to my manager, as he exchanges it with my cell phone, and I walk right by him without a word.
"great job, Haley" a stage hand says to me as I pass by her. "I think you have a suit waiting in your room for you" she says. And by suit I do not mean a pant suit or anything. Suit usually means a business man trying to make a deal with me.
"thanks" I say unemotionally, not even slowing down for a smile. The people I work with probably think I'm a bitch. Everyone else thinks I'm the amazingly great rock star Haley James. Neither are right.
Just as I'm about to enter my pre-established room my phone starts vibrating in my hand. I look down at the screen and see the familiar name of my best friend.
"hey Luke" I say with a slight smile.
"hey rock star" he greets me.
"how's the next great American novel coming?"
"just about as good as your next platinum record"
"that good, huh?" we both know we're stuck in a rut.
"oh yeah. So are you done your show?" he asks. I don't even know why he asks, because he calls after every show at the exact same time. We've planned it down to the minute basically.
"you know I am. How are you doing? It seems like I haven't seen you in months"
"that's because you haven't. But I'm doing good… so is Peyton" he adds in. I don't usually ask about her. And for a good reason too.
"good to hear" I ignore the Peyton statement.
"so are you going to come visit any time soon? I miss you, and so does Nathan, and my mom does too" he adds. Over the years we've become great friends, Karen too. Even though I barely see them.
"yeah, I was thinking I'd stop by in a couple weeks, or so. Maybe after my tour finishes"
"how many shows do you have left?"
"4, I think" I reply.
"alright, I can't wait to see you. It's been kind of boring around Tree Hill without you"
"without me? Or without Peyton?" I ask. I only ask because I know Peyton doesn't even live with Lucas in Tree Hill all the time. Her business is set up else where.
"you, of course" he's probably only saying that because he's on the phone to me.
"mhm, I bet you say the same thing to Peyton, only about her"
"you have no proof" he jokes.
"yeah, what ever. Listen I've got to go, I still have some work left to do. You know, not all of us can sit in our comfy home playing on the computer and all" I say like his job is meaningless.
"that's true. But not everyone can write a book like the Great Lucas Scott"
"alright, shut it Gatsby. I'll talk to you later"
"alright, see ya later rock star" he says and hangs up at the same time as I do. At least I still have my friends. I slip my phone in my pocket and finally enter my dressing room. As soon as I close the door I turn around to see someone in my room, but this is no 'suit', nope, definitely not.
"Haley James" are the first words I hear, and I see the tall blonde standing before me.
"… Peyton Sawyer" I say almost as if I'm in a daze.
"how are you doing Hales?" she says taking a subtle step closer to me, but nothing more. We were never the hugging type friends. Actually, we were never really friends.
"what are you doing here, Peyton?" I ask, finally snapping out of my daze. I put my phone down on the table and head towards my stuff as if nothing's different.
"I came to see you, I… I uh, wanted to talk to you about something" I freeze. Please don't do this to me now. I don't think I could handle this.
"Peyton, you can't just-"
"-not that" she cuts me off. If not that, then what?
"my research tells me your contract with Titan Records is up at the end of your tour"
"…you want to sign me?" figures the only reason she would come down here is for business.
"It's an option for you, I just wanted it to be out there before you considered signing for another 10 years with Titan."
"what makes you think I'd want to sign with you?" I ask, taking a sip of my water, trying to act like none of this is a changing point in my career.
"well, you'd be working with me of course" she says so full of herself, but in a joking way.
"and why exactly would that make me want to sign with you?" I ask with attitude. Truth is, I know she's good in the music industry, but she's not exactly on my good list right now.
"look, Haley, you know just as well as I do to keep person matters separate from business. And I know, that you know what kind of producer I am. You'd be better off at my label"
"right… your label. How many artists do you have again?" everyone knows Peyton just started out and has like no one.
"enough to know I'm good. And with you I know we could make some great music together. Everyone already knows that you're a great musician"
"if I'm such a great musician, why would I need you?"
"because we could take over the music industry, and you know it"
"look, Peyton" I start, as I pick up my shoulder bag with some stuff in it. "working under your label might be good for me… but considering everything I don't think I could make it work" she and I both know why it wouldn't work. I head for the door, expecting Peyton to say one last thing, because we all know how people from Tree Hill are all about having one good last line. Maybe it'll even be good enough to convince me to stay.
"… she misses you" is all Peyton says, and I think my hearts starting to break all over again. As good of a line as it was, it's not good enough to make me stay. In fact, it's more of a motivation to leave. To get as far as way as possible. Because 5 years ago, 2 hearts were broken, not one.
Okay, so I know I left the other story off on a high note, but I decided to make the sequel interesting and have them broken up to begin with. Basically the plot is they broke up in high school and haven't talked in 5 years… so enjoy!