Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill or the lyrics of the amazing song Red to black by Fort minor.
AN: First of all, I wanna say thank you to everyone that reviewed and/or put this story to alerts, I really did not expect this kind of a response. It made me smile. And the credit for me grinning at my monitor like a complete idiot goes to you guys so thanks for that :) Okay, so not a lot happens in this chapter but it was sort of necessary so I hope it doesn't suck (much).
Chapter 2: Red to black
He's dying to get away
let the pain of yesterday go slipping thru the cracks
Hiding himself away
watching all the memories fade away
from red to black...
-BL-
Irritated and more than a little worn out, Lucas rubbed his tired eyes for the fifteenth time that night, turning on his king sized bed in order to face his only companion on that rainy Sunday evening - the blank screen of his laptop that lay a few inches away from his face. The old bed squeaked under restrain as he tried to get into a more comfortable position in order to see the screen better, hoping that this way he'd finally be able to get some job done. But instead he found himself staring absently at that blinking line on the screen that seemed to mock his inability to write. It flashed in a steady, even intervals, matching the beating of his heart on a relaxing afternoon.
Actually if he gave it a thought, it resembled the beat of his heart in general. He really couldn't remember the last time something made it beat faster in that way that left you thinking it would jump out of your chest any second now, or the way it beat when you were at a club dancing, your eyes closed, moving with the rhythm of the music as your heart fought to catch up until you were completely out of breath.
Actually that was a lie. He could remember when it happened last.
It was on a cold, late evening much like this one, when a certain dark haired girl run down the wet, muddy road away from him, upset and determined as he run after her praying he'd make it in time, his heart beating fast in his chest, a feeling of complete dread coming over him at the thought that this was the end of it all. Their relationship and his life, all at once.
But then he caught up, stopped her from running any further and tried to get his heartbeat under control, struggling to get the words out, offer her an explanation and breathe at the same time. Finally she let him speak and he smiled as her facial features softened and she stepped closer, putting her small hand on his chest, over his heart, and kissing him deeply, leaving him breathless. He could practically feel his heart beating in his ears, faster with every passing second and he wasn't sure if it had anything to do with HCM but he was sure it had a lot to do with hazel eyes that were boring into his bringing forgiveness and hope that they might just make it and that his heart was still safe with her.
But it was also on a dark evening, much like this one when she looked at him telling him it was over, that his heart just stopped fighting, stopped beating in that peculiar way and all he could do was stand there, frozen, too shocked to say anything, to fight. It was the one thing he still couldn't forgive himself, his complete resignation with everything she threw at him that evening, the sheer inability to remember a single reason why he shouldn't let her walk out that red door.
I wanted you to fight for me, she has told him once and he hasn't so now all he could do was try to forget.
Letting out an exasperated sigh, he closed his laptop knowing he'd be unable to move any further then that blank page and the accusing black pointer. With a quick move he turned the lights off and lied down, closing his eyes, hoping sleep would help him clear his head and think of something else. Like his book.
He didn't want to admit that something that happened years ago still had an effect on him. Numerous good and bad things have happened since then, things that were more serious and significant than a "high school teenage romance'' or so he wanted to believe.
-BL-
It was as if it was coming from the distance, a dull, annoying sound that just wouldn't go away no matter how many pillows he put over his head. Giving up he pulled his hand up, rubbing his eyes, in order to chase the sleep away as he realized that the annoying sound from the distance was actually his cell phone ringing in the hallway, still lying in the pocket of his jacket.
Lucas stood up, stumbling over his shoes as he hurried to answer. With an annoyed sigh he pulled it up and pressed the red button, putting the phone to his ear.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," said the cheery voice on the other end.
"Hey, Linds."
"So by the sound of your voice I'd say you woke up 5 minutes ago."
"Actually two and I have you to thank for that."
"You're welcome, darling. So you were up till what… three?" she questioned "I assume you finally made some progress with that infamous book of yours?"
"I wish," he said with a sigh.
"A chapter at least?" she asked, always the optimist.
"No."
"A page?"
"Nope."
"A line then?" she supplied.
"No."
"Oh, it's worse than I thought then," she sighed dramatically.
"Thank you for your reassurance, helpful as always."
"Of course, that's what I'm here for. Now go get some coffee and then get back to work."
"How about you come and join me for that coffee?" he asked with a smile.
"Sure, I'll be right there, just let me book a flight from NYC to Tree Hill and I'll meet you at the café in about…um, four hours!"
"I'll take that as a no then."
"Yeah, it's definite no."
"So I shouldn't expect that second book coming out any time soon?"
"I think it's safe to say that."
"Well, thank God we broke up before this or I'd have to end it now since you're poor and all."
"I guess so. Glad you can see something positive in that by the way."
"I have my new therapist to thank for that. Maybe you could see her to help you with the book."
"If I spend one more night staring at a blank screen maybe I will," he said honestly. Lately, he has really started to doubt his future as a writer. Thank God for that assistant coach job at UCLA, otherwise he'd really be poor.
"Let me know if you change your mind, I'll give you her number."
"Yeah, I sure will. Talk to you later."
"Sure, call me when you write a page."
"Oh, talk to you in a month then."
"Don't even joke about that Luke."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he said before hanging up. In this mess that he called his life, he was grateful for the small things like the friendship with his ex-girlfriend who apparently had enough grace to tolerate his sorry ass even after everything he did. If he had been in her place he'd never spoken to him again after all that went down on that particular evening. He was never the type of person who enjoyed verbal fights but that night turned from a casual movie and popcorn night into a verbal fighting match that ended with a lot of hurtful words and a slammed door.
With a sigh he threw the cell on the bed and hurried to the bathroom. A shower and a nice large mug of fresh black coffee from the nearest cafe were the only things he could stomach right now, book deadlines be damned.
-BL-
Later that morning Lucas sat at the booth by the window, a mug of warm coffee between his palms, eyes focused on some distant unknown spot outside. It was a work day so there were not a lot of passersby and he found the sight of an almost empty, silent street oddly calming.
It was because of things like this that he came back here, to Tree Hill, even if it was just for a couple of months. There were not a lot of mornings like this in L.A., the city that rarely slept. Sure, it has been his home for the last few years but no amount of years spent there could even get it to even compare to his real home, this little town in North Carolina.
Lindsey Strauss, his editor and now a good friend, has almost had a heart attack when he announced a couple of months ago that he was taking a break from his job at UCLA and going home for an indefinite period of time. But after the initial shock, she calmed down and let him explain the reasons behind this sudden change of heart. He explained briefly that ever since his last book came out, four months ago, he hadn't written anything and so he decided to go home, trusting that a change of surroundings would help him get some inspiration and find himself.
Because to be completely honest, being surrounded by all those flashing lights and faux celebrities made him lose his focus on things that truly mattered, it made him feel like he was in High school again, getting that spot on the basketball team and trying to fit in with the rest of the team. There were also other reasons that led him to make such a decision, circumstances that he didn't want nor had the strength to contemplate then. All he wanted to do was get on the first flight to Tree Hill. And hours later when he stepped out of the small airport in his hometown it was already a little easier to breathe.
But recently Lucas started to feel that anxiety and unease creep up on him slowly, a sign that even though he was home it didn't mean all his problems were resolved. Just the opposite. It reminded him of all the things he was trying to run away from when he moved to the West coast.
And a weak ago he finally summoned up enough courage to start considering a trip to New York but his best friend has called him two days before, demanding his presence in Tree Hill this weekend because she was getting married (again) to her husband of more than six years and his baby brother, Nathan Scott. The two have decided to renew their vows on the day of their sons, Jamie's' fifth birthday.
Speaking of his best friend…
"Hello stranger."
The cup from his hand almost ended up on the floor as he turned to face the person that interrupted his thoughts.
"Hales," he greeted the brunette. "Didn't see you there."
"Well, you're awful jumpy this afternoon."
"And you're really loud," he commented. "What are you doing here, don't you have classes?"
"I could ask you the same thing mister," she shot back.
"Skillz is working today so I'm free," he announced.
"Isn't that convenient? Unfortunately I don't have that luxury, but I do have a launch break that I decided to use up on you after I saw you staring through that glass like someone had just kicked your puppy. So here I am, hoping to grab some sandwich while I'm listening to you mope. I'm neat like that."
Luke gave her the look before answering "I'm fine, it's just that I woke up an hour ago and didn't have any caffeine yet," he explained pointing at his almost full cup of java "And I don't mope."
"Uhm."
"Don't you hm me. That's the truth."
"Fine, whatever you say broody."
He almost flinched, as he heard the familiar nickname she used. It seemed that these days no matter how hard he tried to escape her he couldn't. He turned back to the window grateful for the waitress that came by at that precise moment making Haley change the subject and order a cup of java and a launch special, giving him just enough time to mask the hurt on his face caused by the words she inadvertently spoke.
"Luke?"
"What?" he asked, looking rather lost at his friend.
"I just asked would you like to order something."
"Just a refill would be fine thanks," he said politely looking at the blonde girl with a big smile on her face.
Haley gave him the 'what the hell is up with you' look but he just shrugged avoiding her worried eyes.
"So we're all gathering at Tric tomorrow at seven sharp, don't be late. Everyone is coming, including Brooke," she said quickly. She thought she heard him say something but he didn't repeat his words, so she continued "And by Brooke I mean Brooke Davis, your ex-girlfriend, a girl you've been pinning for the last I dunno- eight months?"
"Where did you come up with all that nonsense?" he said with a frown.
"I think I know you well enough to know things like that. Besides even a blind man would see that you're miserable," she quipped.
"So much for you being on my side."
"I am on your side. And that's exactly why I'm telling you you can't go on like this."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Uhm."
"Enough with that already!" he said, a little louder than he intended.
"I give up. I'll see you tonight at seven then," she said with a sigh.
"At seven?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Okay, it's at 8.30 but you and I both know it's physically impossible for you to be on time so for my sake let's pretend it's at 7 so there actually may be a chance of you being there by eight," she said quickly, and he couldn't help but smile at how well she knew him sometimes.
"Alright. Seven it is," he said, giving in.
"Great," she agreed, smiling as he turned to the window again. Haley decided there was something to be done about this whole situation. She was sick of the good old brooding routine her best friend seemed so fond of lately.
-BL-
Brooke Davis was irritated. No, actually she was exasperated to a point where not even a fresh dose of caffeine and her favorite macaroons could remove the wrinkles on her forehead.
First her flight got delayed for more than two hours. Then they lost her luggage and finally found it after 45 minutes of 'detailed and thorough search'. Yeah right. Than when she came to rent a car there were no available cars left except for a Mercedes SLK cabriolet with a clutch, which she didn't know how to drive at all. If all that wasn't a hint of the trouble ahead she didn't know what was. Maybe a motel she was staying at? It was kind of a dump and apparently the only place with any vacant rooms left in Tree Hill. She didn't know her home town was such a hot vacation spot.
But despite everything she chose not to read too much into all that and be an optimist for a change. After all she was finally home. And in the end, if it weren't for bad luck Brooke Davis would have no luck at all.
After managing to maneuver the car into the parking lot pretty successfully (meaning both rearview mirrors were still intact and there were only a handful of visible scratches on the side) with her bag in hand and the rest piled up in the back of the rental she walked into the motel lobby letting out a sigh.
"Welcome home Brooke," she said softly to no one in particular.
This whole day was almost like walking down a very uneven road in the dark, hoping you wouldn't trip. And she knew all too well, once you fall in Tree Hill, you never fully recover.
She just wished she hasn't chosen to wear her four inch peep toed shoes on that particular day.