Peyton and Brooke were running late as usual. As they were packing up and preparing to catch a cab to an audition downtown, Brooke quickly logged on to her laptop to see if she had new mail. Sure enough there was, a few messages actually, including one from her mother and a few others from friends and even her agent. A huge grin spread across Brooke's face as she saw the message from Lonely Boy.
Enclosed was a short story. Slowly Brooke read about a young man with many thoughts, dreams, and aspirations but he was missing out on the opportunity to do things in his life. It was as if an entity of some sort was holding him back. He was confined and the name of the story was "Trapped". In a way it made no sense at all but at the same time it made all the sense in the world. Brooke leaned back totally engrossed as she read the words over and over again.
"Come on, girl, let's go!" Peyton yelled from the doorway.
"Huh?" Brooke asked, a little annoyed by the distraction.
"We're late as is, let's get a move on...what the hell are you reading anyway?"
"Nothing", she said as she grabbed her bag and began heading out.
The two friends hurried into the elevator and rushed outside where they hailed a taxi. Peyton checked her watch again. Traffic was heavy which was more than normal for rush hour in the city but she had faith the cabbie would somehow deliver them to their destination on time.
"Okay, Brooke. I give up. Dude, what the heck is going on with you? And will you wipe that stupid Kool Aid grin off your face?"
"What?"
"Girlie, fess up, what the hell is so interesting?"
"Remember Lonely Boy from my site? You know, our mysterious poet who wanted no part of mock dating a celebrity?"
"Yeah, how could I ever forget the elusive Mr. Deez Nuts?" Peyton chuckled.
"Well, one night I kind of got bored of eating myself to death and I was playing around on the computer. I went through your e-mails but there was nothing interesting there. Damn, Pey, your life sucks about as much as mine does but…"
"Brooke Davis! How many times have I told you about going through my e-mails? I swear as soon as we get home, I am so changing all my passwords."
"Yeah right. You say that every time I use your password without your knowledge or consent. Now back to what I was saying…oh yeah. Lonely Boy. Anyway, I found his e-mail address so for some crazy unknown reason, I wrote him. I guess he was online at the time because he wrote right back. Anyway, we ended up chatting on the computer like all night. He's actually pretty cool. We've been writing back and forth ever since and today he sent me this story."
"That's why you've been glued to that laptop all morning and practically every waking moment in the last week or so?"
"It's no big deal. You know how it is, sometimes people send you interesting stuff."
"I guess."
"Well, there's something about this guy. I like the way he thinks. I've gotten lots of things like letters and gifts from fans but this is the first time I've ever actually seriously wondered about the person."
"I could see that."
"Yeah...this guy seems cool. Really smart...I wonder what he's like. What he looks like..." Brooke said as she stared off in to nowhere in particular.
"He probably weighs 500 pounds, is like 40 years old, lives with his mother and spends all day sitting in her basement playing Dungeons and Dragons with the rest of his loser Trench Coat Mafia friends", Peyton joked.
"Oh that's real nice, Pey."
"What? I was kidding."
"So? You're not funny. It's not nice to make fun of overweight people and for your information, I am sure he is not 40. He's a college student, thank you very much, which probably means he lives in a dorm or an apartment and not in his mother's basement. And hel-lo! Uh, 1998 called and they want their trench coats and Dungeons and Dragons back!"
"Okay", Peyton laughed. "When did you get so sensitive all of a sudden?"
"Just don't make fun of my fans, okay?"
"Okay. I won't. I never would. It was just a stupid joke, Brooke. Don't be mad, okay? I just remember a time not so long ago when you and Felix weren't so nice to the fans who made your career. So my question is, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"
"That was then and this is now. I've turned over a new leaf, for your information. And I humbly and respectfully ask for immunity for all my asinine actions committed under distress due to the negative influence of 'he who cannot be named'."
"A new Brooke, huh? Okay. I can dig that. It's cool. Just…"
"Just what?"
"Just be careful, you know? Don't get too close. I mean, what do we know about this Lonely Boy kid? In all honesty, he could be anybody. I mean, that's the scary part about the Internet. You can log on and pretend to be anybody, you know? I'm sure he's a nice guy and it's harmless but don't let your guard down, Brooke."
"I won't", Brooke shrugged. "I'm fine. It's not a big deal. He's just somebody I like chatting with, you know, to pass the time away. It's cool."
Peyton nodded and smiled, accepting her best friend's answer without further prodding. Brooke, to prove a point, shut the laptop. Peyton had nothing to be worried. He was just a fan. Just some random guy to talk to. It was innocent and harmless.
Brooke stared at the script in front of her and tried to concentrate on memorizing lines she would have to learn and perform in less than an hour for some director. But she couldn't focus. Not even on work when it counted. Instead she found her mind drifting to the only thing that had made her smile in recent weeks…her Lonely Boy.
Meanwhile, 618 miles away, Brooke's newest e-buddy sat in bed feeling the same way. Feel sorry for yourself or keep extremely busy were Luke's only two choices so he chose the latter in an effort to someway maintain his sanity. The school had managed to set him up with a home study program so he could still keep up on his studies and graduate college on time. That in itself was more than enough to occupy his time but he also had his computer and with that came Brooke. They mailed each other back and forth once a day, several times a day, and sometimes every other day…whenever time permitted. A poem, a short story, or just to tell each other some random thought. For Lucas those messages were a constant, a sort of security blanket. It made him smile and gave him something to look forward to but it was still "safe".
With Brooke, this young gorgeous, famous superstar that he watched on TV weekly, Lucas could just be Lonely Boy. An interesting, mysterious talented and captivating man instead of Luke the depressed, wheelchair bound college student. For Brooke, Lonely Boy was a welcome escape from the pressures and frustrations that accompanied any career, especially one as high profile as hers and one that was seemingly on its way to becoming a highlight for VH1's Where Are They Now? special. But Brooke liked her computer chats with this man. He was intelligent and sweet and always had something good to say. She liked him, she really liked him and wanted to know more.
