A/N: Hello all. So I'm sorry about the wait on this chapter. I've just been so wrapped up in Nothing and Everything and Life Happens that I forgot about my mini-fic. I really like this one too. It also doesn't help that we have happy LP on OTH. How am I supposed to write LP angst when I get to watch cookie dough fights and little make-out scenes?? Not that I'm complaining…anyways I'm rambling. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had to watch 1.09 a billion times to get myself angry enough to write it. lol.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it.

Chapter Two: Labels

Dull pain. The achy, unquenchable kind flooded Peyton's senses as soon as she opened her eyes. That combined with the heavy pulsating that was assaulting her brain made for one of the worst mornings Peyton could remember. It may have even surpassed the pain she felt when her mother had passed away. This pain she'd have to face alone, no dad or Brooke to help her through it. Not that they were much help, but to face the pain alone would be different.

The plan was still calculating in her head. The minor details of how to deal with Brooke and Lucas. She didn't know what was the right way. The smart thing to do. The proper thing. But frankly, she didn't care what was right or proper or smart. She wanted to do what would make others feel her pain. Call it petty. Call it cruel and bitchy. Call it whatever you might want to. Peyton didn't care. She was tired of being hurt and stepped on. She just once wanted someone else to feel it.

"Good morning, world," Peyton mumbled sarcastically as she tumbled out of bed. She stretched her arms over her head before peaking at her dresser. Two empty bottles of Jack Daniels sat there.

"Wow, I drank a lot." She shook her head, trying to erase the feeling of her hangover. It was all in vain. The headache wasn't going. It was her little reminder of her "stupid" actions last night. She tried hard to rationalize with herself as she headed for the shower that the only thing stupid she had done was spilled her heart out to Lucas, but deep down she knew the alcohol binge wasn't a great idea either. Her stubbornness would always win though and she'd continue to believe that her "way" was best.

The shower was probably one of the few "good ideas" she'd had lately. She was achy and tired, and the feel of the warm droplets running down her body made her forget for a little. In the shower, she focused on the tedious task of washing her hair and shaving her legs. She didn't have to think about anything else, like Brooke or Lucas. Nope.

But as soon as she stepped out of the tub and wrapped her towel around her, Brooke and Lucas returned. No matter how hard she tried to focus on drying her hair or brushing her teeth. She was midway through the latter process when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She could see why Lucas didn't want her. Her complexion was far too pale. Her eyes had bags under them. Her nose was pointed. Her lips were like little lines in comparison to the rest of her face. She was far too skinny. She had no breasts. She looked weak and fragile and scared. No man wanted that. She cast her eyes downward in shame.

"No one wants you, Peyton," she whispered as she threw her hair up into a ponytail. She secured it tightly, checking it in the mirror. She was once again faced with her reflection, her own tired eyes staring back at her, "No one can have you either, Peyton."

She realized she was crazy for talking to herself. But who else did she really have?

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She was approaching school, the hellish building that stood tall, taunting and mocking her. The building always looked like a prison to her. The windows' had a strange bars running up and down them. They supposedly kept the heat in but Peyton always believed that was just a ruse. It was a prison. No doubt about that.

Her usual spot was empty and the cars around it had yet to arrive. She was tempted to park in the middle of two spots just to piss people off, but she resisted the urge. No need to make other people suffer just because she was in a bad mood. This place was hell enough for everyone. She turned off the car, the blaring music suddenly ceasing leaving nothing but odd silence around her. She slumped onto the steering wheel, tears threatened her eyes. She couldn't do this. She couldn't face this day.

Taking a shaky breath, she pulled her head back up. She didn't have a choice. She had to do this. She quickly ran a hand through her curls tugging them back off her face. Turning to her passenger seat she grabbed her messenger bag, sliding her CD back into it. When she turned to her left to exit the vehicle, she spotted the last person she wanted to see, crouched next to her car.

Her eyes met his for a mere second before she quickly looked straight ahead. Stupid ass. Didn't he know he was supposed to stay away from her? Well, no matter. He'd soon figure that out.

"Hey Peyton," he said softly. Did he expect a response? "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I didn't know you were coming over. I thought…"

It was around this point that Peyton blocked him out. Un-fucking-believable. He was really making it easy for her to hate him. There was no apology for what he did. Only an apology for getting caught. And she knew if she paid attention to what he was saying she'd just have even more reasons to hurt, so she resolved to just catch certain words. She thought she heard something about "having fun" and "tequila" and "bar." Was he really talking about his date with Brooke right now? What the hell did he think he was doing?

Wait, she heard her name along with something about "connection" and "friend"…Friend? He wanted to be her friend? Un-fucking-believable. He was the one chasing her, wasn't he? He broke her and Nathan up! He'd been watching her since freshman year. He wanted "us," didn't he? What the hell was all that then?

"Peyton? Are you even listening?" Lucas asked, somewhat sadly.

Un-fucking-believable. He had no right to be sad. She didn't answer him, just kept looking forward. She was gathering the courage to look at him. To put back up those walls she had owned against him. The ones he had tried to see past so many times. Fuck that. She'd beat him this time.

"Peyton?" he asked one more time. Peyton finally turned to look at him, the coldest glare she could muster fixed on her face. Her eyes were narrowed, her lips trembling somewhat as they pursed. Lucas seemed blown away by her coldness. He could see the anger present in her eyes. Behind that anger, he could see the pain and frustration and total disappointment she held. It was all bottled up ready to burst out and crush him. The walls would keep it in for only so long.

"Peyton, I'm sorry." She rolled her eyes and curled her fists into balls. She wanted so bad to just hit him. He wasn't sorry. He was just guilty. There was a difference. "Can I just-"

"Hey hot shot! Get the hell out of the way so I can park my car!" Peyton's eyes snapped to see the guy who usually parked next to her glaring mutinously at Lucas.

"We'll talk about this later," Lucas promised. Peyton rolled her eyes once more. She didn't want to talk about it. She wanted him to go away. Lucas walked towards school, sending a glare at the guy who made him leave. Peyton waited until the car next to her was parked before she got out of her car, ready to storm inside. When she reached the trunk of her car, she saw the guy next to her approach his own trunk.

The guy who parked next to her was A.J. Hopps. He was a transfer freshman year and the minute he got in school everyone fell in love with him. He was gorgeous. Blonde hair. Green eyes. Muscular. Charming smile. He was the complete package. However, soon after his arrival, word got out about the other side of Mr. Hopps. He was into drugs and alcohol. He was crude and rude. His temper was very short and very fiery. He was violent as well, fighting with anyone that dared to challenge him or even looked at him the wrong way. He could give two shits what anyone around him thought and that's why he could care less when most of the school labeled him too wild to be considered popular. In a word, A.J. Hopps was a dangerous person. He couldn't be trusted.

"Sorry I made your stalker leave, but this is my spot," he said simply.

"It's fine," Peyton said grabbing her backpack and a cardboard box, "I didn't want him here anyway."

"I kind of saw that from where I was at. I don't blame you. He's a douche."

"How eloquent," Peyton said sarcastically.

"Everyone here's a douche. Even you I'm sure."

"Thanks."

"Just calling it like I see it."

"You're an ass," Peyton said, "I shouldn't be surprised. All men are asses."

"Yeah, but at least I don't pretend not to be one like stalker boy."

"Whatever."

"You're a bitch," the guy said, "But then again, I shouldn't be surprised. All women are bitches." Peyton glared at him.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"A.J. Hopps."

"I know that. You're in my English class."

"Right, and you're Peyton Sawyer, that total bitch," he smirked.

"What do you have against me again?" Peyton asked rolling her eyes.

"Nothing."

"Well I'm not in the mood for being insulted thank you."

"Then why are you still here?" he said smugly. Peyton looked up at him and glared.

"See you in English class," she said walking away.

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Her locker smelled. Not like a particularly foul smell exactly. It was more a flowery mist. But the scent was repugnant because it smelled like a bouncy brunette who she currently loathed. To be reminded of her was just cruel. God she could almost hear her voice when she inhaled, the scent was so powerful. Or maybe it wasn't the smell…

"Oh my gosh! P. Sawyer, you have to hear about my night." No thanks, I'd rather shoot myself in the head, Peyton thought sardonically. Brooke began to ramble off about playing pool and tattoos and something about an alley.

"And so he leaned in-" She needed to shut her up. Hearing this was killing her.

"God Brooke, you're such a slut," Peyton said finally cutting her "friend" off. It wasn't said in the joking way that they used all the time. It was flat out meant to be cruel and Brooke couldn't ignore it.

"What?" she said timidly, looking around her to see if anyone had heard Peyton. Peyton chuckled internally. As if they'd be shocked to hear she's a slut.

"You heard me. You're a slut. It's not like it's a shocking revelation."

"Where the hell is this coming from? Is this about when you found us last night?"

"Nope. Just stating facts. You're a slut. I'm a bitch. Lucas is an ass. Nathan is…well another ass. Haley's a prude. We all have our little labels, we just need to stick to them. So, I'm sticking to mine. I've been way too nice lately, don't you think?"

"Peyton," Brooke said, "What is wrong with you?"

"And you definitely need to stop playing the concerned friend role. It doesn't suit you. You just stick to slut, okay?" Peyton said in a patronizing tone, "Oh and here. This is yours."

"What?" Brooke whispered looking in the box. "This is all my stuff."

"Yeah, see, I've decided that not only am I tired of you playing the concerned friend role, I'm tired of you pretending to be my friend at all."

"I am your friend," Brooke said firmly, "I love you, P. Sawyer. You're the most important person in my life."

"Sure. Right," Peyton said slamming her locker shut. It caused Brooke to jump back a little. "I don't need you in my life, Brooke. I'm sick of you. You're a lying bitch, a two-faced slut and a horrible friend and I could care less how much you claim to love me. So now go run off and fuck Lucas so you can forget about how your parents don't love you and how no one else will ever love you either."

Peyton walked away, leaving a stunned and broken Brooke holding a box of her old stuff. It was half way down the hall when Peyton realized her actions hadn't made her feel any better. The hurt look on Brooke didn't make the pain go away. It made it worse. But it was too late. What was done was done.

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English class. The only class she had with both Brooke and Lucas. She had yet to see Brooke since the incident this morning, but rumor around school was that she had been crying all morning in the girl's bathroom. Peyton had obviously hit a nerve. As for Lucas, she had seen him. He had even confronted her, wondering what she had done to Brooke, but he was greeted with silence.

Now she sat in the front row, a seat ahead of Lucas, waiting for class to start and hopefully quickly end. Brooke had entered early, choosing to sit next to Lucas. Peyton wondered if she had done it just to piss her off or if maybe there was something going on she didn't know. The thought made her sick. Lucas hadn't tried to talk to her since she arrived. Instead he focused on cheering up Brooke, who Peyton could tell was miserable. She wished she could feel guilty for that. But she just felt numb.

The bell rang, but no teacher was present so no order fell over the class. No one even noticed when A.J. snuck into the room, a mischievous grin on his face. He took the last seat available. The one in front of Brooke, next to Peyton.

"Hey bitch," he said, sliding into his seat. Peyton couldn't help but chuckle.

"A.J," she greeted somewhat noncommittally. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. A.J. didn't seem to mind though. He turned to the window and cracked it open. Peyton watched with furrowed eyebrows as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up without a care.

"What happens when the teacher gets here and sees you smoking?" Peyton said in a monotone, not trying to sound like a prude.

"He won't get here. I locked him in the janitors closet."

"Really?" Peyton said, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I wouldn't be smoking if I didn't. Heaven forbid I get kicked out of class," he said somewhat sarcastically.

"What if the sprinklers go off?" she said pointing to the little devices hanging above the class.

"That's why I have my hand hanging out the window," A.J. said rolling his eyes. He glanced back at Brooke and Lucas who were eyeing him with disdain.

"Yeah well whatever," Peyton muttered, searching her bag for her ipod. If the teacher wasn't going to show up, she might as well drift away into her own world.

"So I have to ask," A.J. began, slowly moving his gaze off of the two people behind him and back to Peyton. "Are the rumors true?"

"What rumors?" Peyton said uninterested as she moved to put the ear buds in.

"The ones that say your stalker is fucking your best friend," he said bluntly in a voice loud enough that Brooke and Lucas must have heard.

Peyton didn't look back at the two of them, as much as she wanted to. She instead snapped her eyes up to meet A.J. He was grinning in amusement, and the smile was nothing warm. It almost made her shudder. She wondered how she was supposed to answer that.

"News travels fast I guess," she said quietly, and she cursed how sad her voice sounded. She looked down at her ipod and tried to shuffle through her list of songs for something loud and obnoxious to clear her head.

"See, that's why I tell girls putting out is better in the long run. If you had just put out, stalker boy wouldn't have lost interest. Learn from your best friend. Sluts always win."

As he said the last words, he was no longer looking at Peyton but at Brooke. Peyton didn't know what to do. Everything in her was telling her this boy was an asshole who needed to be put in his place. She needed to fight him. But then she realized what he said wasn't exactly false. She walked away. Lucas lost interest. Brooke fucked him. She won.

"You're right."

"You'll soon find out I always am," A.J. grinned, as he saw Lucas trying hard to restrain himself from leveling him. "Want to give the slut thing a go with me?"

Peyton motioned for him to come closer. He raised an eyebrow before quickly discarding his cigarette out the window so he could lean forward and rest his elbows on his knees. Peyton moved over the side of her desk chair bringing her lips even with his left ear, allowing Brooke and Lucas to watch her little display. She was going to teach them all a lesson.

"I will never, ever change who I am," she said in a clear tone, "even if it means I have to lose every single time." She drew back a little to look him in the eye. "Besides I don't want a guy who fucks sluts." It wasn't directed at him and all four of them knew it.

"Your loss," he shrugged leaning back, an amused look on his face.

Peyton went back to her music, missing the complete looks of disappointment and hurt on Lucas and Brooke's faces respectively. Though she would have to be a fool to not know they were there.

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Okay, so you should know that I hate putting original characters in fanfics. They tend to seem useless or cliché. But A.J. is necessary. Believe me he's not going to be a Peyton love interest. He does serve a purpose though. Oh and if you're pissed at Peyton...remember I warned you last chapter. She's not very nice in this story. lol.