The phone hissed emptily for a second or two, and during that second, Brooke wondered if she'd dialed the wrong number; but then the line kicked in with an electric crackle and soon enough, it started to ring. The familiar tone buzzed through her head over and over again for a moment until finally, she heard someone pick up on the other end.

"What is it, Brooke?"

The woman on the other end sounded hard and abrupt. Maybe because she was speaking to her or maybe not. Nevertheless, it wasn't quite what Brooke had been expecting, but jarringly close to it. She had been wrong about this; it was going to be a lot harder than she'd expected it to be when she'd first dialed the damn number. Her grip tightened on her phone as she took a deep breath, finally opening her mouth to say something.

"When I told you I was signing the company over to you," Brooke began, "I wasn't including my store, Victoria."

"It belongs to the company."

"It's a commercial failure."

"But the merchandise isn't."

Brooke shook her head in disbelief. How could 'mother' have been this woman's title for the first eighteen years of Brooke's life? Especially when she didn't have a single maternal bone in her entire body? Everything she'd done, she'd done out of a sense of responsibility to feed and care for her only child, a child that has only expected love. Victoria had neglected her, emotionally abused her, ridiculed her yet the old naïve Brooke Davis had fallen into those rotten manicured clutches and tried to win her love and affection. Now, it was clear to anyone who saw both Davis women together that each wanted the other one to shrivel up into nothing and disappear out of the other's life.

"They're my designs," Brooke argued in vain.

"Maybe," Victoria sighed in a bored manner, "but they belong to the company and since the company no longer belongs to you, neither do the designs."

Sometimes, when she was alone and was sure no one would hear her, Brooke let herself cry and vent out her feelings of rejection. Her mother caused most of her pain; Lucas had caused all the rest. Now, at least, she only had to deal with her mother's constant scheming behind her back and the knowledge that her parents had never wanted her. Crying was Brooke's weakness and it made her feel absolutely vulnerable, a mistake she hadn't allowed herself to make since she'd given Lucas her all.

"I don't have time for this, Brooke," Victoria sounded utterly annoyed. "Trying to reason with me is just a complete waste of my time so if that's it...," she trailed off, knowing Brooke would fill in the blanks.

"Yes," Brooke replied cooly. "That's it."

Victoria didn't even bother replying before she hung up on her daughter. As she sat there and listened to the dial tone, Brooke felt a sense of emptiness. For years she's worked to build the company that her mother had somehow managed to take from her, though legally, Brooke had signed it over to her. No matter what Brooke tried to do, Victoria just seemed to demean her word, which didn't sit well with her. The poisonous bitch had manipulated her, toyed with the fact that Brooke only wanted to make her proud to a point where Brooke had decided to have no part in her own company. And just like that, a dream that had only lived in her dreams for so long, was gone.

Empty hangers, naked mannequins, and ripped boxes littered the store's bare floor, not even the gorgeous carpet she'd bought to bring out the colors of the clothes having been spared in the raid. It seemed all too surreal that just hours ago, this place had been full of life, the casual passerbyers walking by, scoping out the mannequins in the store's front windows, and all the clothes just waiting for the average teenage girl to walk in with a few of her friends and go crazy trying on all the clothes they deemed hot and sexy, which at one point it all had been according to Elle Magazine.

"We figured you'd be hungry so we brought you some—"

The bells above the door jingled slightly and soon enough, the store was filled with the sound of cars and people from the outside world, the noise echoing off the bare walls. Brooke had almost forgotten about it, the outside world, seeing as how her own personal one was falling from the great heights it had found itself at. Usually, reality ceased to exist for Brooke once she stepped in through the wooden doors at the front, and her imagination took over and motivated her to start sketching a few more designs for the next season's line.

"What the hell happened in here?"

"Nothing," Brooke pulled herself together before turning around and forcing a smile. "We're just rearranging things a bit."

"Brooke," Peyton gave her a look.

"What?"

"Rearranging?" she repeated. "Really?"

"Yes, Peyton," Brooke nodded curtly. "We're rearranging. Victoria didn't like how everything was arranged here so she had a couple of idiots come in and take every last bit of clothing in the damn store so she could set it up in the one in New York."

When Peyton's eyes widened, and Nathan's drooped slightly, Brooke took a deep breath and let her hand open slightly to relieve her phone of her tight grasp. The timing her two friends had was impeccable; Brooke had been hoping to keep the store's closing a secret for as long as she could until shed found a way of convincing Victoria to reopen it again. Now that the secret was out in the open, she wasn't sure what else to tell them. So instead of contributing anymore verbal information, she decided to let them read the fine print Victoria had been oh so gracious enough to send her, for themselves.

"She can't do that, can she?" Peyton asked, her frown turning into a scowl as she made her au over to Brooke. "I mean, there must be something we can—"

"The company bought a patent for the designs a couple of months ago and if I try to interfere with their release, my ass'll be in the state prison faster than I can blink for violating a legally binding contract," Brooke read out of a manila folder in her hands, adding the last part purely for the light humor the moment needed.

"Prison?" Nathan repeated stupidly.

"Prison," Brooke nodded.

"Have you tried talking to the bitch?" Peyton asked, not even making an attempt to hide the dislike for the woman.

"I just got off the phone with her."

"Well, what did she say?"

"The designs and the company don't belong to me anymore and that I was simply wasting her time trying to reason with her," Brooke repeated, almost robotically.

"God, I wish I could smack some sense into that old hag," Peyton seethed, crossing her arms as she fumed. "You'd think, considering you're her only child she'd have some sort of sympathy regarding your dream."

"Peyton," Brooke laughed dryly, "she was capable of neglecting a child. What makes you think she would hesitate to rip a grown woman's dream away?"

"She makes a good point," Nathan shrugged, not sure if speaking was the right thing to do at that point.

"I'm done talking about this, though," Brooke rubbed her forehead with a hand. "Have you tried calling Lucas yet?"

"Why would I do that?" Peyton hissed.

"Because you deserve some answers," Brooke put it simply. "And even if you don't want them, you know you need them."

"I don't need anything that comes from him," Peyton breathed, her eyes hardening as her jaw clenched at the mere mention of her ex-fiancé.

"Peyton," Nathan began but she cut him off.

"Don't you 'Peyton' me, Nathan," she snapped, making him shrink down a size. "You two can't just expect me to speak to him as if nothing."

"You do know he's going to try and contact you, right?" Nathan revealed hesitantly. "You'll be the first person he'll want to see."

"And if he even tries," Brooke spoke up menacingly, "I'll be the last person he sees. Lucas Scott isn't getting anywhere near Peyton without giving me a decent explanation first." Crossing her arms, she looked at Peyton supportively. "He may be my friend too but he crossed a serious line when he got on the plane with that bimbo."

"I thought you liked Lindsay," Nathan chuckled.

"That was before I realized how much of a skank she really is," Brooke shrugged. "Now she's just my mortal enemy."

"Okay," Peyton giggled a little. "Down, girl, please. Lindsay isn't the problem. At least not the biggest one."

"You're right," Brooke nodded. "Lucas is."

"If you two are planning on murdering the poor guy," Nathan piped up quickly, "please try and remember that the idiot has a brother."

"Which is why we're going to rid you of the burden," Peyton smirked in satisfaction. "Don't you worry, Natey."

"I'll try not to," he scratched the back of his neck. "And if you guys are done figuring out what order those two are going to die in," he held up the bag of take-out, "I have food here waiting to be devoured."

---

The smell of the crispy Tree Hill air was the first thing that greeted his nostrils. A much older woman's perfume was the second.

Dragging the small, miserable bag he'd managed to pack before racing off to meet with Lindsay at the airport two days ago, Lucas Scott walked out of the small airport and made his way towards the parking lot, with the determination to find his car in less than a minute. He had so much to do now that he was home, and so many people to apologize to. Of course, the first one was going to have to be Brooke Davis. If he was going to have any chance in hell to apologize to Peyton, he was going to have to get Brooke's blessing first otherwise, he'd be screwed. No way would Peyton stay tightlipped about a visit from him if he decided to go straight to her and then he'd have a pissed of Davis on his tail.

Spotting his car halfway towards the back, he rushed over to it, keys in his hand, and unlocked the door as he picked his bag up. He shoved it into the passenger seat and quickly started the car, wanting to speak to the fiesty brunette merely ten minutes away from where he was at the moment before the end of the day.

---

"Who's side are you on anyway?" Peyton scoffed.

"I can't be on anyone's, Peyton," Nathan groaned. "He's my brother and you're one of my best friends. I have to be objective."

"You know," Brooke cut in, "it times like these when I curse the day you and Tutor Girl met. We sure could use some of the old Lucas-hating Nathan Scott right now."

"At this point, so could I."

The chicken in Brooke's carton suddenly seemed less interesting and much more sour than she had expected it to be. Mentioning Haley had been a slip of the tongue, a little mistake she was bound to make at some point in time. With everything that had been going on with Peyton and Lucas, the other issue that seemed just as prominent and heartshattering was the youngest Scott's divorce that was undoubtedly going to take place. For the past couple of days, Brooke had been doing a splendid job of watching what she said but seeing as they had all been on a Lucas-bashing roll, the thought of mentioning Haley hadn't even crossed her mind.

"That didn't come out right," Brooke tried to fix her mishap up, even though it was too late to do anything about it.

"It's okay, Davis," Nathan smiled up at her. "A lot's been going on and besides, you two were on a roll."

"Is anyone thristy?" Peyton interrupted.

"What?"

"You forgot the Coke again."

"Coke?" Brooke exclaimed, not having heard Peyton's first question. "Peyton, you said that was a one time thing and—"

"I meant soda, Brooke," Peyton groaned, noticing the look on Nathan's face as Brooke blushed and busied herself with her chicken again. "But good looking out."

"You've tried coke, Sawyer?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you," Peyton shook her head as she pushed herself off the floor. "Once with Haley and Brooke was enough."

Again the slip-up had occured, and this time, it hit a little more close to home if not all the way because Peyton had actually used the honey-blonde's name while Brooke had simply used the nickname she'd given her back in high school when they'd first met. Nathan grimaced slightly as he stuffed his mouth with chicken and motioned for an crestfallen-looking Peyton to just go ahead and get the soda from wherever she thought she was going to find it. With one last apologetic look from the blonde, Nathan watched her walk out the front doors and head down the street before turning back to his food.

"Today's just an off day," Brooke offered lamely.

"Haley's just a bitch," Nathan replied resentfully.

"Nathan," Brooke exclaimed. Never once had she heard him refer to anyone other than herself as a bitch and the fact that it had been Haley shocked her.

"She is," he shrugged. "And you know it."

"I can't wait for things to go back to normal," Brooke sighed, staring at her chicken moodily as if it had been the one to piss her off.

"That's if they go back to normal," Nathan added.

"Stop being so negative, Nate!"

"I'm not! You're just being too optomistic!"

"Since when is that a crime?"

"Its not, but it just makes everything harder!"

Once again, Nathan had managed to shut Brooke up. His intention hadn't been to make her feel bad or lose his temper, but that's the way it'd come out and even though now Brooke just didn't even want to look at him, Nathan knew it'd be easier that way. Talking about it too much just pissed him off and the amount of positivity one petite woman could hold inside of her just overwhelmed him. The fact that Brooke had so much faith in his relationship with Haley only ate away at him even more for reasons he couldn't understand.

"I hate it when I lose my cool around you," Nathan blurted out unexpectedly.

Looking at him, Brooke felt her curiosity growing. That single sentence had held more emotion than anything else he'd ever said to her and it had shocked her into silence. Nathan did have a habit of losing his cool and even though Brooke was present most of the time, she never would have imagined that he'd given it that much thought to hate having her around when it actually happened.

"Why?"

The word had slipped out, having danced on her tongue long enough. The second she'd heard it, though, she'd wished she could take it back, her curiosity to know why he felt that way being something she could adjust to. Hearing his answer, she thought to herself, would, no doubt, change their simple relationship and even she was smart enough to figure that one out without anyone's help.

"It bothers you."

"It doesn't bother me," Brooke immediately retorted. "It worries me when Jamie or a potential human punching bag's around, but it doesn't bother me."

"It might as well if it worries you."

"Nathan," Brooke tried to get him to look at her, "look around. Jamie isn't here and there isn't a potential human punching bag for miles."

"So?"

"So losing your cool is part of what makes you Nathan Scott," Brooke smirked, finally catching his eye. "Could I honestly love you as much as I do if you were some stick-in-the-mud cliché like Lucas? I mean, the only time he's ever lost it is when Jake's been around Peyton and as far as I know, he's been gone for years now."

Surprisngly enough, out of that whole entire miniature speech, all Nathan could concentrate on was the part where Brooke had admitted she loved him. Just like she had predicted when he'd first mentioned how he hated losing his cool around her, their simple relationship had changed and not necessarily for the good, or for the bad. It was just different now because now the true extent of how much the other meant to the other one was out in the open when it had never even been thought about before.

"Can you believe not one store on this street has anything portable to drink?" Peyton's voice rung in their ears as Brooke finally forced herself to tear her eyes from Nathan's. "I had to walk a couple of blocks to find these bad boys," she added, holding up the three bottles of water in her hands.

"No Coke?" Nathan teased.

"No," Peyton glared. "Not unless you want me to break my foot upside your ass."

"No Coke then."