Requiem

a song for something or someone that has ceased to exist

A/N: Hey, it's me, the girl with a million stories. I wrote about 1000 words of Crescendo (a fourth of what the chapter needs to consist of), about the same numbers of words of HYH, and then my muse came up with this. I've never dived into a storyline with quite so little planning before, but I'm excited about it.

Background: Haley, Nathan, Peyton, Lucas, and Brooke all achieved everything they wanted to – they're reached everything they ever wanted. They're all wealthy and moderately famous, enjoying the best that money can buy. Haley's topping charts with her music, Nathan's winning NBA games, Peyton owns her own label, Lucas has written four successful novels, one of which was just turned into a movie, and Brooke has Clothes over Bro's. Haley and Nathan are married and have Jamie; Brooke is dating casually. The rest, I think, can remain a mystery for now.

…for Truth

Peyton moved through the crowd in the Manhattan ballroom, waving sweetly to an elderly executive and throwing a wink at the bartender, who hadn't yet charged her for any of her drinks, though he'd undoubtedly be berated for that later on. He had yet to notice the sparkle of her wedding rings that the chandeliers in this place had no problem picking up.

After politely excusing herself as she moved through one last cluster of people, she reached her destination: her husband.

Unfortunately for Peyton, her husband happened to be talking to an old friend of theirs, so she had to plaster on a perfectly fake smile and say, "Haley, hi."

"Peyton, I thought I'd never find you!" Haley gushed in return, her eyes bright with the faintest hint of intoxication. "It's so good to see you, you look fantastic."

"So do you," Peyton said earnestly, gesturing to Haley's lengthy golden dress. "Doesn't she, honey?" she added to Lucas, squeezing his arm lightly.

"Yeah, Haley, you look beautiful."

"Stop," the musician said as colour rose into her cheeks. "I mean, Peyton, look at you, all femme fatale."

Peyton had to consciously prevent herself from smirking proudly. That was exactly what she'd been going for. "Please, I bet Nathan can't wait to get you out of that."

Haley's cheeks darkened even more and Lucas cleared his throat, adjusting his tie. "This is starting to get uncomfortable for me," he joked, his smile playful.

Peyton grinned over at Haley. "Well, Luke, lucky for you, I need to steal you away for just a minute." She reached out to touch her old friend's wrist. "We'll catch up more lately, okay? I really have missed you."

"Likewise," Haley said seriously, patting Peyton's hand with her free one. "I guess I should go find my husband…"

"Bow chicka wow wow…" Lucas said teasingly, bopping a little to his own off-key tune, and Haley's blush intensified further still as she glanced back at them. Peyton smiled indulgently and lazily batted at her husband's arm.

The moment Haley was out of both sight and earshot, she rounded on Lucas, scowling. "Don't embarrass her."

Lucas shook his head in disbelief. "Don't start fights over nothing," he countered. "That's why you're here, right? You came over here to fight?"

She stared deep into his eyes. "You are unbelievable," she hissed.

"I'm unbelievable?" he whispered back, keeping his smile in place in case anyone glanced their way. He recoiled, frowning. "God, how much have you had to drink?"

Peyton rolled her eyes, murmuring, "Not enough, that's for sure."

Lucas' eyes softened as he placed his hand gently over her arm, his thumb stroking her smooth skin. "Peyt, I don't know what you want from me anymore."

"No shit," she grumbled bitterly. "God, I need another drink…"

"You're really going to do that?" he asked, testing her. "To your friends. To your kids?" he added with more meaning.

"Leave them out of this. They have nothing to do with this," she insisted hotly.

"Are you kidding me, Peyton? They have everything to do with this. Willa's getting older, she needs her mother. Lance and Sawyer are still babies."

"Where are you living, the 1930's?" she demanded, resisting the temptation to stab her heel into the toe of his shoe. "All the responsibility falls to me? They need their father, too, Lucas!"

"In what ways have I ever neglected them, huh?" he shot right back, his anger mounting.

She looked away from him, trying to hide the tears glistening in her eyes. "That list is too long for tonight."

"That is such a fucking lie," he growled.

She was about to retaliate when the voice of the hostess permeated their conversation in the form of an exclamation of, "P. Scott; babe, I missed you so much!"

Peyton wiped quickly at her eyes before she wound herself engulfed in a crushing hug. "Brooke Davis," she laughed, gasping for breath. "I missed you, too."

"God, you look gorgeous!" Brooke exclaimed as she pulled away, eyeing Peyton up and down. "Dude," she told Lucas, grinning widely, "Your wife is totally hot, look at those legs!"

Lucas lifted his eyebrows but said nothing; Brooke didn't notice. Instead, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Peyton's face, lifting a hand to place it gently on her friend's shoulder. "Hey," she said softly, concern lacing every word. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Peyton assured her instantly, pressing her index fingers under her eyes as she tried to clear away her tears without ruining her mascara. "Just memory, you know? I've missed all you guys."

Brooke smiled tenderly. "I missed you, too; you have no idea."

It was amazing, how skilled she'd become at hiding the fact that her marriage, her career, and everything about the life she'd built for herself, was falling apart. No one questioned her anymore. And while part of her appreciated it, another part of her wanted to break down and scream. Brooke was her best friend. How could she buy Peyton's lies so easily?

The brunette quirked her eyebrows, studying Peyton's teary eyes with a wicked gleam in her own brown orbs. "Hey…you're not going to be giving me another goddaughter anytime soon, are you?"

She wanted to scoff, but instead she just smiled softly and laughed. "No, believe me…after my pregnancy with the twins, I don't think we're going to be having anymore kids."

"That was rough," Brooke acknowledged, "but only 'cause you're so tiny. You've got to start eating, P. Scott, you're making me look fat."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lucas piped up. "You look spectacular, Brooke."

Peyton glanced at him murderously, shooting daggers at him with her suddenly poisonous green eyes. She could read a lot into that statement, things like You look better than my wife does and I'm sleeping with my secretary or I care about nothing if it's not materialistic. She hated him for that one sentence, though she knew deep down that he didn't deserve it.

"Thank you, Luke," Brooke rasped flirtatiously. "Well, listen, I have to…you know, make the rounds, but we are going to start seeing more of each other, okay? And if you ever need some time alone, I'd be happy to take those beautiful kids off your hands for a while, you know how much I love them."

"We know," Peyton assured her softly, reaching out to embrace Brooke again. "Thank you."

Brooke winked at her, smiled over her shoulder at Lucas, and then disappeared back into the well-dressed crowd. The moment she melted away, Peyton rolled her eyes, muttering in a high-pitched voice, "You look spectacular, Brooke."

"You have got to be kidding me," Lucas said. "Seriously, you're going to hold it over my head that I paid a compliment to our mutual friend?"

"That's not what it's about," she groaned.

"So don't make it about that."

A fresh batch of tears sprang into her eyes without warning. "I'm not…"

"Peyton…" His hand fell to the small of her back, which was bare due to the cut of her pale blue dress. He pulled her toward him and she couldn't resist, just let her eyes flutter closed as he pressed his lips against her forehead. "Come and dance with me."

She let him guide her to the dance floor and wrapped one arm securely around his neck while her other hand settled into his. She moved her body close to his, resting her head on his shoulder, and stopped thinking. Lucas was a great dancer. He knew how to lead, and he did. It was so easy, just to follow him.

"You look so beautiful," he whispered into her hair.

Her smile was bittersweet as she snuggled her head even closer to his shoulder, feeling the warmth from his skin. She didn't care if she messed up her hair. "Thank you," she murmured. "Luke…" she whispered his name the way she always had. A plea, a lament, a caress, an appeal, a command, a question and an answer, all at once.

"Yeah, baby?" His tone told her explicitly that he didn't want her ruining the calm of this moment with their drama.

She wanted to give him what he desired, but at the same time she wasn't willing to put everything aside. She wasn't the type who could brush things away only to deal with them later. When she had clouds threatening to spill rain in the form of disaster, they loomed over her head and they could not be ignored. "Where do we go from here?" she asked quietly.

She felt his lips brush her hairline. "I think that we…we talk, and we try to understand, and we get back. I love you, Peyt. Isn't that what matters?"

"There was a time when I would have said yes," she sighed into his shoulder. "I'm not so sure anymore."

"I think you're making this into a bigger deal than it has to be."

She pulled back abruptly to look right into his blue eyes. "And I think you're belittling a lot of things that are important to me."

"I'm not," he sighed exasperatedly, having gone through this conversation one two many times.

"Don't be condescending," she whispered, shaking her head. "And you are. Lucas, God…maybe we got married too young. Maybe we should have taken some time to live out our dreams before we complicated the situation with wedding vows and kids."

"Don't do this," he said mutedly, his voice tight and packed with intensity. "I love you, and our children; I live for our family."

"Do you?" she asked pointedly, her eyes never leaving his.

"This, coming from you," he scoffed in retaliation. At the wounded look she couldn't stop from appearing, he immediately said, "Peyt, I didn't mean –"

"You don't mean a lot lately, huh?" she asked tersely.

"Alright, fine." He cleared his throat. "I'll play. What's your suggestion?"

She wanted to cry at the sound of the bitterness in his voice, but she was too proud. Instead, she lifted her chin and said, "I think that maybe we need a break."

She could have screamed profanities and insults at him for years, she could have slapped him instantly and harshly, she could have done almost anything, and she was sure that he wouldn't look quite as hurt as he did in that moment.

The words were on the tip of her tongue to take it back when she saw that Haley was glancing at them curiously from where she stood about twenty feet away, dancing with Nathan. Peyton shook her head and pulled out of her husband's arms. "I'm sorry, Luke," she said quietly. "I can't do this."

She hurried away from him, rushing in the direction she thought the bathroom was located in. Her heels against the gorgeously tiled floor sounded like a hammer hitting in the last nails on her marriage's coffin. She stopped, placing a hand on a pillar to brace herself, and glanced cautiously back at where she'd left her husband.

He was still standing in the middle of the dance floor, all alone, looking helpless and hopeless, like his heart had just been ripped up.

Peyton knew the feeling.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated…