Chapter 2

Brooke Davis looked up from her rough sketch and quickly let her eyes glide over towards the clock on her study table. It was near midnight – she had been drawing for what seemed like hours. At 25 years old Brooke was one of the most sought after designers in Hollywood. Her clothing range, Clothes over Bros, had gone international almost as soon as it hit the shops.

Brooke let her eyes come back to the sketch and wasn't the least bit surprised when she saw what she had drawn… the body, the way it curved… it was all Haley… out and out. Brooke shook her head as she tried to concentrate on only the dress but something pulled her attention towards the table where the photo of the five of them stood. It felt like ages ago but Brooke's heart broke every time she looked at the photo. How had they let each other go so easily?

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Peyton Sawyer stood lazily in front of the painting that she had finished a week earlier. It was almost an identical copy of that same photo – the one of the five of them – and it pained her to see it. Even at 25 years of age she had had enough heartbreak in her life to know that she would never let go of the five of them. The heartbreak they caused each other.

Two sleepy arms slid around her waist as Peyton's husband pulled her tightly to him.

"Come on…all famous artists need their beauty sleep." Jake Jagielski said sleepily and Peyton giggled as his breath hit her neck.

"I'm coming babe…" she replied as he kissed her on the cheek and made his way back to the bedroom.

Peyton stood in front of the painting for a few more minutes. Taking in all of their appearances. They all looked happy back then. With a second glance she turned around and followed her husband.

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Lucas Scott laid his head on the laptop's keyboard – letting his head press against the letters and causing all sorts of weird words to form on the screen. He lifted his head slowly again and started deleting what had been written. His latest novel was giving him long hours with even less sleep. Lucas couldn't help but feel that he slept less than any other 26 year old guy in the world. Wait scratch that, he thought, any 26 year old famous writer with one award winning novel behind his back.

He stood up helplessly and picked up the orange ball lying on the ground. Slowly he turned it around and around in his hands – inspecting every detail of it. It was the only physical thing that he had kept from that house… the only thing he had made sure to keep with him. Lucas was sure his older brother cursed him for it but he didn't really care. Neither one ever brought it up in conversation…they hardly talked about that time.

Lucas threw the ball into the air and in flew straight into the small hoop he had set up for himself. He stared hard at the cupboard behind the hoop and he sighed as he walked over there. Slowly opening the door he found the two things he hardly took out. His novel "White Houses" – written and printed out – ready to be read…and the picture. The same picture that had inspired the novel… the picture of the five of them. Lucas sighed as he picked up the novel and inspected the cover. Opening it slowly he found the inscription he had first placed there years ago.

To the best friends I could ask for

The love we shared shall never fade

Here's to white houses…

Here's to OUR white house.

Lucas gulped as he slammed the book closed and wished he had never written that. The painful reminder of that time and place was enough to drive him mad.