Carve Your Heart Out Yourself

By: caramelo

I do not own One Tree Hill or anything related to it.

Episode Guide/Spoilers: None, although you will see some parallels in storylines between this story and the show. For the most part, however, this story is completely AU.

"Do you, Nathan Scott, take Brooke Davis to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?"

"I do," said the man. His smile was broad, and his eyes were only for Brooke.

The priest turned to Brooke. A hint of a smile passed over his face. He cleared his throat before continuing. "And do you, Brooke Davis, take Nathan Scott to be you lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?"

Brooke nodded slowly and swallowed. Her eyes filled with tears. She had been crying on and off during the entire ceremony and her mascara was probably a runny mess by now. She just couldn't believe it was actually happening. She was actually marrying Nathan Scott, the love of her life ever since she had been old enough to realize that boys didn't have cooties. Which was somewhere around the age of three.

"I do," she whispered, smiling through her tears. "You bet I do."

The priest finally allowed himself to smile fully. "Then I now pronounce you husband and wife." He turned to Nathan and said, "You may kiss the bride."

Nathan grinned wolfishly and grasped Brooke's hand in his, tugging her gently closer to him. His other arm encircled her waist, and he lowered his lips to hers.

It was the most magical kiss Brooke had ever had. As soon as their lips touched, an electric shock ran through both of them. Everyone in the gigantic cathedral started cheering, their voices echoing off the walls, and church bells were chiming above. If Brooke had been struck dead at this very second, she would have gone elated.

Finally, they had to pull away from each other. Nathan gazed down at Brooke affectionately. "I love you so much," he said, choked, and left another chaste kiss upon her lips.

Brooke blinked back more tears. She couldn't believe this was happening.

Actually, it wasn't.

Brooke had heard bells, but they weren't coming from a church. "Marisol!" her stepmother screeched for the maid in that high, beyond annoying voice of hers while tinkling the damned little porcelain bell Brooke's father had bought her. "Marisol, did you pick up those low-carb breakfast bars I asked for?"

Brooke groaned and shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to go back to sleep. Her dream had been so good. If only she could go back to it for a few more hours at least…

Her eyes immediately snapped wide open, and she jerked up. No.

She did not just enjoy a dream that had to do with that son of a bitch Nathan Scott. No. She didn't want anything to do with Nathan Scott. At all. Period. He was an egotistical jerk who couldn't treat a girl right if his life depended on it. He was the scum of the earth.

But, and this was a very small but, Brooke reminded herself, he was absolutely fantastic in bed.

But, and this was a very big but, that didn't matter anymore. Because they weren't together anymore. Because Nathan Scott was an egotistical jerk who couldn't treat a girl right if his life depended on it.

Brooke took a deep, calming breath, the kind her yoga instructor always encouraged. Even thinking about that arrogant bastard got her all riled up.

In more ways than one.

Brooke really had to stop this. It couldn't be healthy.

"Marisol!" her stepmother screeched again, loud enough to break Brooke's eardrums and train of thought. She toppled out of bed in shock.

"Shit!" Brooke swore. That hurt. She gradually pulled herself up to a sitting position, wincing as a skinned elbow began to sting. She pushed it up near her face and examined the reddened, slightly bleeding arm distastefully. That was when the door burst open.

"Brookie!" her stepmother, Elise, cried. "I heard a crash. What happened?"

"I fell," Brooke answered flatly.

"Why?"

Brooke glared. "Why?" she spat out. "Because your screeching startled me. You might want to check that while you're staying in my house speaking to my housekeepers."

Elise took a step back, shocked. It always came as a surprise for Brooke's new mothers when they realized how little patience Brooke had. But, thanks to Brooke's harsh tongue, they often learned their place very quickly, unless they were the special kind of stupid that Brooke particularly hated.

"Oh," Elise finally said. "Well. Your father's back. He just flew in last night."

So that was why Elise had taken the trouble to come up the stairs and pretend to care so much. They all did, at first. Until, of course, they learned that Daddy dearest didn't give a shit about whether they fussed over Brooke or not. He didn't, so why should they? Soon enough, Elise would join the ranks of enlightened woman that had come before and park her ass permanently in the poolside lounge-chair in some tacky swimsuit made by an overpriced designer from France or Italy. Like all the rest, she'd be supremely unconcerned about whether Brooke was studying or in jail.

Not that she'd ever have to worry about Brooke studying.

"Wonderful," Brooke seethed, sneering disdainfully at Elise. "Go and tell him I love him. Or that I need a few hundred bucks. Either one works."

Elise stared at Brooke with rounded eyes for a few beats of silence before turning on her expensive designer heel and getting the hell out of the room. Brooke scoffed and pushed herself up off the ground. "Stupid bitch," she muttered.

It had always been easy to scare Daddy's little sluts away. Most of them were never too much older than her. That was the way he liked them. Personally, Brooke found it totally gross. All those cheap, little gold diggers were like leeches, draping themselves all over him, hands in completely inappropriate places, to coax out a new diamond or purse.

Brooke shivered the image away and walked across her room, stopping in front of her closet. She was ready to get out, and she couldn't very well do that in the silk night clothes she was wearing. She threw open the glass doors.

It didn't take her too long to find the perfect outfit amongst the ranks of clothing hanging in her ridiculously large closet. She had just gone shopping last week and had bought this slinky, pink dress she had been dying to wear. Brooke shed her nightwear and stepped into sundress, sliding it over her curves. She zipped it up with little trouble and stepped into matching sandals. With a quick grab at a white purse and the right jewelry, she'd be good to go.

But, as Brooke picked at and discarded the jewelry so carefully arranged in drawers and boxes, trusting her maid to tidy up the mess later, she couldn't help but replay the dream she had had that night over and over in her mind, a frown fixed on her face.

Why did Nathan Scott have such a tight hold on her? He was an ass, and he treated her like dirt, but she always went crawling back to him. She knew he used her. She knew she was only a fiery little sex toy in a nice package to him, something he could pick up and throw out whenever he wanted. She knew he hadn't ever, and would never, care about her or love her.

But she always came back. Always.

All it took was him whispering some sweet nothings in her ear, making impossible promises of love, and a few gentle kisses. Sure enough, they'd be in bed (or sometimes against a wall) within the next hour. Brooke hated herself for it, but for some reason, she could never stop. Nathan Scott had really stolen her heart.

Brooke laughed aloud at the concept and then scowled at how bitter it sounded spilling out from her lips. She needed a distraction, she decided, preferably in the form of a hot, rich college guy that was big on partying but still had a halfway legitimate vocabulary. It would take some work on her part. Brooke ruffled through her jewelry for another few minutes before finally deciding on a relatively simple white ribbon necklace with a pink diamond flower hanging from it. She smiled as she held it against her chest. Not for the first time, she noted just how low the neckline of the dress was.

She couldn't say she minded. It made her boobs look amazing.

And it did wonders for the rest of her body as well, she thought as she studied herself critically in a mirror that hung on the back wall of her closet. Brooke smirked as she admired herself from the side-view. God. Who needs exercise when a dress does this kind of work for you?

She smiled one last time at her reflection before bouncing out of the closet, making a quick grab at a random white purse before she passed through the doors. It was shallow, but she adored having money. There was nothing like being able to afford that expensive little dress, custom-made just for her. Nothing at all.

After finishing all the other things on her pesky morning routine, Brooke sauntered down the stairs and out the door, passing her stepmother, the maids, and her father along the way and not sparing a word for any of them. They didn't pay attention to her, so why should she bother to acknowledge them?

She dialed her best friend's cell number as she climbed into her pretty red convertible, a painfully expensive creature despite its tiny size. "Hales," she chirped as a groggy voice on the other end picked up. "Why the hell are you so tired?"

"Late night," came the grumpy reply.

"You slutty little minx," Brooke laughed. "You'll have to tell me all about it when you meet me for breakfast."

"Breakfast? Brooke, it's too early."

"Um, that's kind of the point of breakfast, Haley. You eat it early."

"I need my sleep."

"We'll get coffee," Brooke promised. "See you in twenty."

"Brooke, I…"

Click. Brooke snapped her phone shut with a satisfied smirk. Haley would be there in fifteen, no doubt. And provided that there were no distractions, well, Brooke might make it there in thirty…

Five minutes later, Brooke looked in her rearview mirror to see flashing blue lights tailing her. She glanced down at her speedometer and moaned. Eighty in a fifty-five. She was toast. Reluctantly, she jerked her car over to the side of the road and parked.

She was so busy digging through her purse for her license that she didn't get a good look at the officer until he was peering down into her window. Finally catching sight of her laminated picture, she pulled her license out of the bottom her purse with a flourish and glanced up.

He was male, Brooke noted immediately, about twenty-two. A smile touched her lips. She just might escape from this unscathed after all. Sorry, Haley, she said to herself. It looked like she had just stumbled across a distraction.

"Do you have any idea how fast you were going, miss?" he asked.

Brooke shrugged and gazed up at him with innocent, rounded eyes. "A little too fast I guess," she said coyly.

"About twenty-five miles over the speed limit," he said sternly.

Brooke frowned. This guy was obviously a stickler for rules. However, he was pretty cute with thick dark hair and a chiseled jaw. His biceps bulged against the sleeves of his uniform. She bet he had a great body underneath that polyester shirt.

"I'm really sorry," she said with a pout. "How can I make it up to you?"

The expression on the officer's face tightened. "It's not about me," he said. "It's about the safety of the public."

"The public, huh?" Brooke teased. "Well, how about we do them a favor and keep me off the road for a couple hours? Maybe next Friday around 7?"

The guy cocked a brow. "Are you asking me on a date?"

Brooke smirked. She had him. "Are you accepting?"

He swallowed, hard, and tugged at his shirt. "I really shouldn't be doing this."

"Well that's what makes it fun."

"I think I might be free Friday."

Brooke shot him a winning grin, congratulating herself on a job well done. There was no way she was getting a ticket after this.

Haley was waiting for her just outside the door their favorite café, tapping her foot and looking royally pissed when Brooke finally pulled into a parking spot, a little over an hour late. Brooke cut off the ignition and calmly stepped out of her car, forcing a big smile as she walked over to her friend.

"You bitch," Haley said flatly, before Brooke could chirp out one of her usual excuses. "I've been waiting here for almost an hour and a half, Brooke. People walking in and out have been looking at me like I'm some freaking psycho or purse-snatcher or something."

"Hales…"

"No!" Haley snapped. "No, you cannot even call me that right now. I am so sick of putting up with this crap, Davis. You do it all the time. And it's not like I even call you. You're the one that has to drag me out of bed at all ungodly hours of the morning just so I can cater to you and your needs. I swear, Brooke, you better have an excuse along the lines of your grandmother having a heart-attack or something right after you called me or else I'm leaving right now."

"Um," Brooke said. "My grandmother had a heart-attack right after you called me?"

Haley glared. "You used that one last week."

Brooke cursed. "I knew it sounded familiar."

"That's it!" Haley cried, throwing up her hands in frustration. "I'm done! I'm leaving! Call me when you sort out all your shit."

Brooke sighed and spun around to watch her friend's retreating back. "I was going eighty down Bayview, and I had to chat up the hot police officer so he wouldn't revoke my license."

Haley paused. Then she made a noise of aggravation and reluctantly turned back around. "At least you were honest this time," she muttered.

Brooke's lips curled into a half-smile. "So does that mean you're ready to go in now? Two extra-large, non-fat lattes are waiting for us. On me."

Haley appeared torn by her indecision for a few moments but then grudgingly reached out and linked her arm through Brooke's. "Someday, you won't be able to bribe me with caffeine," she warned.

"Maybe I'll have gotten more responsible by then," Brooke said.

Haley snorted. "Fat chance."

Brooke shrugged gamely as they walked through the door together. "I guess you're right."

Author's Note: So there's your beginning. Mostly background for now, but next chapter we should get into the plot more. Also expect to see Peyton and Jake and hopefully at least one of the Scott brothers. The only confirmed couples in this story right now are NB and BL, but there will be a few side-couples. They'll be pretty easy to figure out, I think. I hope you guys like the story so far and decide to stick with it. It's a story I've wanted to do for a while – something light as compared to Only in the News or even She Don't Dream for Me. Please, please leave a review to let me know what you think!

until next time…

caramelo