A/N: So, theres this story that I really loved. It's on this website and written by another fan, just like you and me. And this story was great, and lots of people loved it and the author wrote it and then they just forgot about it. I was dying to figure out where that story could have went, I reviewed every chapter and even PMd the author but they never updated. That feeling sucks. When you're reading a story that you liked but, the author just let it go.
I can't do anything about the story "Just Friday" but I realize that I was leaving you guys hanging and I could change that. So here is me changing that, here is the next chapter that will hopefully be the first in more updates. Consider this my apology, please read and review and Please enjoy.
Brooke stood in her store, Clothes over Bros, staring at a large white blank sketchpad atop of an easel.
She felt like she had something that wanted to come out of her, some great sketch, some great design that was begging to be let out of her and put onto paper but she had no idea how to get it there. And as she stood there the process had become more and more pointless and less likely to happen.
Brooke looked around the store, there were sample designs pinned here and materials there but still nothing worth filling the store. The silence in the store was replaced for a second with the sound of her iPhone vibrating on the counter, she looked down at it to see Haley's name and picture across her screen. Sighing, she silenced the phone and turned it over. She had to get something done, and decided to cut herself off from the world until she made some sort of progress.
"Maybe I should have another teenager through a party in here." Brooke stated aloud to herself rolling her eyes, remembering the last time that the store had been bustling with energy. It was unwanted attention granted, but energy non-the-less.
She stepped away from the easel, the click of her heels filling the empty walls, and moved to a high stool behind the counter. Brooke had been feeling like she was missing something, some what of a link to connect all the parts of her life back together. She often found herself wondering if she could have found that in LA with Julian, and just how different would things be in her career and her life had she went with him. Sometimes she wished she should have went with him, Tree Hill was starting to become a place that held more reminders of the things that she lost and that was an overwhelming feeling for her.
There was much Brooke had to be thankful for, but still when she tried to conceptualize those things the list often ended with her friends, which was great, she loved them all dearly…but when does that become not enough?
She supposed it was much too late to contemplate such things.
Jack walked aimlessly through the Tree Hill streets, swiftly indeed, but without a purpose. What he wanted was to help Samantha, to find someone who would help her. He didn't want her to be ambushed or to be let down like she and him had been so many times before, but a part of him knew that these people weren't like all of the others.
Jack had watched them.
Envied them.
He had seen them love Samantha, love this girl who had no blood ties to them or any relation at all. She was just Samantha Walker, a shadow on the streets of Tree Hill, a replaced spot in a foster home, a smart ass in the back of a classroom.
She had found something good for a really long time, something that could have been permanent that she chose to give up and Jack knew that she regretted that.
Every time the smell of alcohol floated from Rebecca's mouth she regretted it.
Every time she flinched in fear and pain she wished she had stayed.
And every bruise that Jack saw across her body made him wish that she had stayed too...because he understood that those wounds lasted longer then they cared to appear. That her regret pulsed through her head with every beat of her heart that pumped blood through her body….blood that Rebecca had seen, had forced out of her.
Jack stopped at a street crossing, the reddish orange hand on the light facing him signaled him to stop and he stared at it.
Stop.
Samantha wanted him to stop, she wanted him to just keep his mouth shut and pretend that he didn't see her hurting. She wanted him to just sit with her in silence whenever she could get away from Rebecca…..to just sit there and take in all the silence. Samantha wanted Jack to do exactly what he had asked her to do tons of times before.
Did this somehow make him a hypocrite?
Does this make him less of a friend?
Jack knew that when he had asked Samantha to not do anything, to not tell anyone what he was going through, what his brother had put him through, it was because he needed her not to. In those moments when they would sit together at night on a park bench, having no one to worry about where they were, he only needed Samantha to be his friend, not his savior. But somehow, in her being the friend that she was, she still managed to save him.
But this is different he convinced himself.
Or was it?
Was the broom handle the same as his brother's fist? Was his black eye the same as her broken rib? No…no it couldn't be the same. The needed different things, or… he would just like to think he knew what she needed.
But he's just a teenage boy, how could he know what Samantha needed. How could he even assume?
The reddish orange hand changed into an all white symbol of a walking person. It was okay to go now. It was okay, safe to continue… but was it really?
He stared at the light…hesitant to take another step.
Haley sat at the black Weber grand piano. Her head down, her eyes closed. Her left hand resting atop of it, her fingers lightly tapping the black frame like a metronome. Her right hand glided slowly and gracefully across the actual keys, rhythmically mixing the A major scale. Her right foot pressed against the sustain pedal, her left tapping along with her fingertips, her head bobbing slowly to the sound that was being omitted from the piano.
She had lost track of time.
She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting at the piano, not playing any song or trying to make a new one, but just messing around, enjoying the sound of the music. At some point it had started raining, not pouring down hard enough for her to give any thought to it, but just enough to provide an ambient background to her unrefined melodies.
"Why Haley James Scott are you working on your next album?" Nathan smiled as he leaned on the frame of the door behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. Haley opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder at her husband.
"That's Mrs. Scott to you." Nathan put his arms up with a chuckle as he approached her and took a seat next to her on the piano bench. "But no," Haley rested her head on Nathan's shoulder as she looked back at the black and white keys before her. "Just enjoying the music."
Her mind went back to playing on the street for fun with an artist, Grace was her name and it was more than fitting. Her words were simple, hew voice beautiful, her guitar pure, and her words inspiring. Her grace reminded Haley to enjoy the music.
Enjoy it for simply what it was, not what it brought, not what it could do, not where it could take her. But to just enjoy the simple nonchalant A major scale over the sound of raindrops tapping on the window.
"Well it sounds good." Nathan placed a kiss on the top of her head as he looked the piano with but was pulled out of the trance he was falling into with the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house. "I'll get that." Nathan announced as he rose to his feet and Haley pressed her hands against the keys once again.
A/N: So yeah I think its a little short of a chapter but, enough to let you guys know this story isn't dead right?
Story facts: The Grace that I'm referring to is Grace Potter. She was the musician on the street in season 6 episode 7. Her and Bethony Joy Galeotti have a song together called "I want something that I want". It is also the song they play together in that episode.
Please Review and let me know what you think :)
