Thanx to lifeluver, brucasfanatic, photobooth romance (nice name, by the way), x-Brucas-lovin-x and gerky. I'm happy you guys like this fic. (Don't forget to read my other fic too! Trusting you, trusting me)

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"You can't do this to me."

"You didn't tell me I had to go to a stuffy wedding."

"You wouldn't have come if I told you."

"Damn right. That's why I'm leaving now."

"You can't do this to me."

"Yeah? Watch me." he turned and started walking off. Brooke hesitated for a moment.

'Am I really that desperate?' Brooke asked herself. But she instantly remembered Macy's and Vanilla's awful voices, laughing at her. 'Yup, I am that desperate.' Brooke thought as she ran after him as fast as her three-inch heels could take her.

"Please, you're my last hope. I have to go to this wedding with a 'boyfriend' or I'll look like a complete loser."

The guy looked at her and started to show signs of giving in. It must have been the tears that were threatening to fall. Brooke mentally thanked her drama instructor as she wiped a tear with her finger.

"Okay, okay. I'll do it."

'Sucker.' Brooke smiled, her tears miraculously gone.

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"Could you remind me again as to why we are here?" the guy asked, as he went inside the changing room for the third time.

"We need to… spruce you up a bit. You can't go to a wedding in … whatever it is you're wearing." She tried not to wrinkle her nose as she remembered the clothes her date was in – a normal plain t-shirt and well-worn pants. By no means are they ugly, they're just different from what she is used to.

"I have a suit at home, shoes too, you don't have to spend like crazy." The guy said. His little speech earned Brooke a look from the attendant who obviously thought that she was some kind of sugar momma. The guy remained oblivious.

'I bought you an Armani, just shut up.' Brooke thought.

"We can't go back. It's too far and we'll be late." Brooke decided to be polite to the guy. She was in dangerous territory. One wrong move would make her clinch the title of Loser of the Year. Brooke was not about to allow that to happen.

The guy emerged from the dressing room. The navy blue suit he was in went perfectly with him. The newly bought shoes and watch helped make the whole 'I'm filthy rich' look possible.

'Was the store stuffy or is the guy really this hot?' Brooke scolded herself for letting her thoughts wonder into that direction yet again.

"You clean up well." Brooke said as she tied his tie for him.

Brooke didn't flinch as the cash register was rung up. The guy next to her, however, looked positively pained at the sight of such a sum. To him, it was sinful to spend so much. Especially when 'so much' amounted to about three months worth of his pay, plus overtime. Lots of overtime.

"There's just one thing left." Brooke turned to her date.

"What's your name? I can't call you pump attendant at the wedding, though it's quite cute."

"It's Lucas. Lucas Scott.

"I'm Brooke Davis."

"So I heard." Lucas said, looking at the cash register once more.

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"Let's go over this one more time."

"Brooke, it's a wedding, not a NASA conference."

"It's more IMPORTANT than a NASA conference! This involves my very existence."

"Okay, okay," Lucas sighed. "I'm Lucas Eugene Scott. My dad's in exports. We ship helpless women and children from third world countries to be sold as slaves in the States."

"Oh, you're so witty. I'll go slowly this time since you obviously need help in retaining information. You're Lucas Eugene Scott. Your dad's in exports. He ships spare parts and used merchandise. It's an expanding business. Sorry, you can't give out your name card. You forgot to bring them since you were busy with me. We've been dating for three months. You think I'm the one. You can hear wedding bells ringing. But you're waiting for the right time to pop the question."

"Can I not use my middle name? It reminds me of a guy we used to beat up when we were in 4th grade."

"Nice try. It's still Lucas Eugene Scott."

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