Lucas sat up in bed staring at the screen of his laptop. His heart pounded inside his chest. So the contest really was legit. That was apparent due to the numerous e-mails he had received from a woman named, Peyton Sawyer, who claimed to be Brooke Davis' assistant. And as if that information wasn't astounding and convincing enough, there in plain English letters was an actual message from Brooke herself posted on the website. She was talking to him. Brooke Davis was actually talking to him, Lucas Eugene Scott. Only she didn't know he was Lucas Eugene Scott…to her, he was nothing more than a mere pseudonym. To her, he was Lonely Boy. But nevertheless, she was still talking to him.

Lucas sighed. It was exciting, he could admit that. On the other hand, it was weird. She was famous. She was the beautiful face on a television screen. A celebrity crush fantasy. None of it was supposed to be real. It was just a stupid poem he had thought up in less than ten minutes. They were just words. She wasn't supposed to write him back. And they damn sure weren't supposed to meet.

Taking another deep breath, he hit the "reply" button to Peyton's latest e-mail.

Dear Peyton, Glad you and Brooke liked my poem but the truth is, I didn't put much thought into it. I never thought the contest was real and I certainly never expected to win. I appreciate everything but if you don't mind, I'm gonna have to pass on the whole date thing. Thanks a lot and sorry I wasted your time.

He sent it before he could chicken out, or worse, write something stupid. It was just a few stupid words, right? They'd have to drop it and pick another "winner". Then life would somehow return to normal, or whatever normal was for him. Staring at the page with his e-mail account, he went to log off when the prompter flashed alerting him that he had mail. Curiosity got the best of him and he opened it. Damn, she's quick, he thought. Peyton Sawyer had responded almost immediately.

Lonely Boy, just got your e-mail. Thanks for finally getting back to me but I was rather disappointed in your response. Your poem was really cool and the webmaster, myself, as well as Brooke Davis really liked it. Yours was the best and the winner's prize was a date with Brooke. Maybe you are nervous or shy but I assure you Miss Davis loves all her fans and has been looking forward to meeting you the writer. If there is something I can do to change your mind or make you more comfortable, then please let me know.

Peyton was persistent, Lucas had to give her that much. But why? World peace wasn't depending on his date with Brooke Davis. Why did the people from her camp care so much? Besides, he couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't even get out of bed.

Sorry Peyton but my mind is made up. This just isn't something I really want to do. I have my reasons but I'm sure there are hundreds of other people who would give anything to meet Brooke Davis. I guess I'm just not one of them. Again, sorry for any confusion or problems I have caused.

Peyton cursed out loud as she read Lonely Boy's latest reply. What a headache! What was the big deal already? He'd said it himself. How many fans out there that were just dying to meet Brooke. And how many stars actually would agree to such a thing, even though Felix and Peyton had practically had to hold a gun to Brooke's head to convince her to play along. Still, this guy, this mysterious fan wanted no part of the hoopla that followed. Peyton couldn't much blame him but he had entered the contest of his own free will knowing what would happen if he won. Now he had won and had zero interest in the prize. In addition to more questionable publicity for Brooke, it only made Peyton's job that much harder. Deciding not to delay the inevitable, she picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Brooke, it's me, Pey."

"Hey. What's going on? You sound bummed."

"I just wanted to let you know that guy, Lonely Boy or whatever from the site contest, well, he finally wrote me back."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Um…he, he does not want to go. He didn't really offer up an explanation but I don't think he's budging."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, what can we do? Hunt him down and make him go? It was a stupid idea anyway and I really didn't want to go. You tried your best but if it isn't gonna happen, then it just isn't gonna happen."

"You're right", Peyton sighed. "I'll uh…I'll think of something to post on the board to try to explain all this."

"Thanks. It's cool, though. I've got bigger things to worry about besides fans who don't want to meet me. Did you see the show today?"

"Yeah", Peyton offered nervously. "Um, your heart stopped…twice."

"Tell me about it. Thank God for defibrillators, right? Anyway, Felix is supposed to take care of it. We're supposedly in negotiations now so we'll see. Either Savannah will wake up soon and live happily ever after or she'll be off to soap opera heaven."

"Okay. Um…just, try not to worry about it, okay? I know that's easier said than done and you have a lot going on but…everything is going to be okay. And whatever you need, then I'm here for you."

"I know", Brooke teased. "I kind of pay you for that."

"But even if you didn't. I mean it, Brooke."

"I know you do", she said softly.

Brooke knew exactly what Peyton meant. Through thick and thin, through the pain and the joy, Peyton Sawyer had always been there. She was the only one who could see through the flashiness and the fame down to the real Brooke. No one else had ever quite known her that way. Except for a flash of a few words submitted on her site by a stranger. Looking out the window of the apartment, Brooke stared at the bustling city and bright lights of Manhattan. She flinched in the darkness when she heard the key turn in the lock. She smelled the booze on Felix before she saw him.

"Babe", he smirked, dramatically putting a hand over his chest. "You scared me. What are you doing sitting all alone in the dark?"

"Where have you been?" she asked quietly.

"Out. Some industry party, not even a party I'd say, more like a lame get together."

Brooke nodded. She remembered a time when he would never even dream of attending events without her on his arm. In fact, if it wasn't for her success, there would have been no industry parties or "lame ass get togethers" as he now referred to them.

"Did you have a meeting with the producers today?" she inquired hopefully.

"Nah, I skipped it. They're still bullshitting on the negotiations and…"

"Felix, screw negotiations. My job, my reputation are on the line. I don't want to do this anymore. My character is in a coma and one step away from the kiss of death. Let's just drop it. I don't even care anymore about the salary increase or the stupid parking space or the dressing room."

"It'll be fine."

"Felix!"

He noticed the terse look on her face and the angry tone of her voice.

"Okay, okay. Just don't give up so easily, babe."

"I'm not giving up but I need my damned job."

"You are not going to lose your job. You think I'd let something like that happen to you?"

She turned away as he removed his shirt and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Felix…"

"Brooke, you do trust me…don't you?"

She looked into the dark pair of eyes that had charmed her so many times before. Brooke was tired. Tired of arguing. Tired of worrying. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

"Yeah", she finally said softly, looking anywhere but his eyes. "I trust you."