Chapter Fourteen: Wishful Thinking

A bell clanged as the door to Haley's place of occupation, a small café, opened. Chris Kellar stepped inside and looked around before locating Haley, wiping down the granite countertop.

"Hey. Where've you been?" he asked, leaning down to lightly kiss her lips.

"LA," she said, looking down as to not meet his eye.

"Why?"
"With Nathan. At his apartment," said Haley. She looked up to her boyfriend's confused expression.

"Hanging out?" asked Chris. Haley deeply desired to hint to more, but any more would be an untruth.

"Basically. Does that bother you?" she asked curiously. He shrugged his bony shoulders.

"Not really. I trust you, Haley," he said. She frowned. If he wasn't jealous, the work of the last week had been for nothing.

"You don't even care a little bit?" she asked desperately.

"I was gone for a week and you don't suspect me of cheating," said Chris.

"It's not the same. Chris, this isn't working any more," she said sadly.

"What? You're breaking up with me?" he said in surprise.

"Yes."

"Because of Nathan?"

"Yes. Because I love him," said Haley, finally admitting the truth as she disappeared into the kitchen.

XxxxxxX

Nathan groaned in irritation as he woke up from his dream. They were growing more and more frequent, and no longer revolved around hot, passionate sex. They revolved around something dangerously akin to love.

It wasn't the first time he'd woken up from Haley leaving Chris for him. Yet every time, he believed it to be true.

His frustration grew when he heard Brooke and Lucas talking in the next room. The sound of their sex didn't affect him as much. Very early on, it had begun happening very often. Their talk was more disturbing. Their intimate conversation, that was about so much more than sex. It was a disturbing reminder that they had everything he wanted and could never have.

As his wandering eyes fell on a framed photograph, he slowly stood and took it in his hands. It was a dark haired girl with hazel eyes, dimples and full, pouty lips. Lips that every man in LA desired. Davis Ryan's.

With a yell, Nathan threw the photograph at the wall, where it shattered. She was the reason. She was what had made him so detached, so unloveable, so unloved. He was bound to her, yet she took everything he wanted away.

Twenty minutes later, the same face showed up at his door. The same face attached to the perfect body.

"'sup, boyfriend?" she asked.

"I'm not your boyfriend," he muttered angrily.

"Um, okay."

"I'm not. This is nothing, Davis. Somehow I always thought it would be something. That you wouldn't always be a heartless bitch. God, you really had me fooled," he said.

"You're breaking up with me? Breaking up with this?" asked Davis, standing in front of him. He glanced at her.

"Yeah. This isn't really. You're not even real," he said.

"But I guess she is? The supposed innocent?" demanded Davis.

"Haley? Yeah, Haley's real. And her innocence isn't supposed, trust me," he said.

"After spending a week with you? Sure," scoffed Davis.

"She's not a slut. And shut up, you know you slept with Jake," he said.

"Yeah. And it was good," she said.

"I don't even care. I really don't. It's not worth it any more," he said.

"The only thing that was ever in it for you is still here," she said. His eyes swept down her body once again.

"You're kind of like a new toy. Really good, before the novelty wears off," said Nathan, walking past her and out into the hallway.

Once he was gone, Davis slammed his door shut and groaned in frustration. The idea that the most desirable man in LA no longer desired her was deeply disturbing. After a moment of silent obsessing, she cleared her head and shook away the last vestiges of pain and loss. She smiled brightly before leaning down to pick up a handbag, expecting it to be Haley's. Emptying the contents on the bed, she found it to be Brooke's.

Davis impatiently pushed her wallet and phone aside before her fingers brushed up against a foil packet, half filled with pills. Eyes gleaming wickedly, she came up with a plan.

Brooke was a threat. She'd been in the corner of the tabloid pictures for a few weeks now, and was beginning to catch enough attention to threaten Davis' rule.

But Davis, clever Davis, had come up with a way to one up her.

Author's note: Sorry if you hate me right now. Things will get better, I promise.