Disclaimer: I own nothing Mark Schwann is the man.
Big ups to toddntan and AmbroCoo. Comments are always appreciated. :)
A/N: Italics - Flashback
Brooke tipped toed her way up to her bedroom avoiding any confrontation from her parents. Not that her parents actually cared that she was home. They were too wrapped up in themselves to realize that they still had a daughter. Sadly, the fact was that she didn't want to bump into her unfaithful father who'd usual ignored her anyways or her belligerent mother who'd berate her because she was a reminder of her cheating husband. Brooke hoped that one day things would change, but it never did.
Brooke froze in her tracks, as her heart began to race. A loud crash of glass sounded inside the big house. "What was that?" Brooke whispered.
Suddenly, Brooke heard muffled voices coming from her parents' bedroom. This occasion was different from their usual tirades, because this time she heard another woman's voice. Brooke remained still, as her parents' bedroom door flung open. This was the first time Brooke witnessed one of her father's mistresses. She couldn't have been more than five years older than Brooke.
"Get out of my house!" Brooke's mother screamed at the half naked woman.
The younger woman scrambled to grab her things off the floor, and hurriedly made her way down the stairs passing Brooke. Brooke watched her father's mistress run out the door, before returning her eyes at her parents. "Brooke, go to your room this instant!" Her father demanded. Brooke was in shock, when she discovered blood dripping down her father's arm. "Dad, are you okay?" Brooke asked as she starred at the blood.
"Don't you defend your father!" Brooke's mother snapped. "He's not the victim here."
"But mom he's bleeding." Brooke pleaded.
"He doesn't care about you Brooke. Your father would have shoved you in front of that twit as a shield to protect one of little whores from ever getting hurt. Isn't that right Richard?"
"Shut up Victoria! The only reason I ever gave a damn about you is because of Brooke." Richard shouted.
Victoria turned towards Brooke. "I wished you were never born. If it wasn't for you..."
"Victoria that is enough!" Richard yelled.
Brooke's eyes filled with tears, but she learned how to keep them in. She always excused her mother's harsh words. Brooke told herself, it was the alcohol talking.
"I'm okay Brooke. Please just go to your bedroom." Brooke's father assured her.
"You need to go to the hospital. Let me take you." Brooke begged, as she stepped closer to her father.
"Go ahead take his side. I always knew you loved you're father more than you loved me." Her mother said bitterly.
"Mom, how can you say that? I love you as much as I love Dad, but he's hurt."
"I'm hurt too." Brooke's mom sobbed before walking off and closing her bedroom door.
Brooke shook her head sadly. "Come on Dad. Let's get you to a hospital." Brooke's dad nodded, and followed right behind her out of the house. There was no use in arguing. It was either bleed to death or be treated. Brooke's father chose the latter.
End of Flashback….
Let love in. Surely this was a simple statement, yet such a difficult concept to grasp. As far as Brooke was concerned this was simply not an option. She needed to protect her heart from all possible intruders. This foremost meant the opposite sex. The only person Brooke truly ever trusted with all her heart and soul was her dear friend Haley James, and now she was getting married to the enemy. It was exactly three weeks until Haley's big day, and Brooke wasn't sure if she was genuinely happy for her. Of course, Brooke loved Haley, she was the only person she did love, but there was a slight tinge of jealousy deep within her core that she was unable to shake. At first Brooke thought it was because Nathan was stealing her only confidant, and ally in this sad wicked world, but after much thought and booze Brooke realized it was the simple fact Haley found something she swore off years ago; Haley found true love.
Deep down inside, Brooke knew that all the fame and riches could never fulfill that undeniable void her soul felt every single day. It was depressing and lonely, but Brooke figured the alternative was much worse.
It was clearly the next day, as the light shun through the cracks of the dangling blinds. This was a minor problem, easily solved with a giant pillow over her head. In turn was easily deterred by the loud voice that was coming outside her bedroom door. "Brooke Davis, I hope your awake! Brooke!" The sharp pounding on the door was becoming one with her hang over. Brooke began to pile all her pillows one on top of each other forming a mountain over her head, hoping her roommates' screeching voice would disappear. Unfortunately, there were not enough pillows in the world to stop Haley from making her presence known as she burst through the door. "Brooke!"
Haley began unraveling the pillows covering her roommates' head, while Brooke tried to cling onto them for dear life. "Brooke it's eight, and Lucas's flight lands in an hour. Please get up!"
Brooke moaned and clutched her forehead. "Are you hung over?" Haley's voice seeped with anger.
Brooke lifted her head slightly from her bed and placed her hand over eyes to shield the rays of sunlight creeping through her blinds. "Kind of, sort of…" Brooke says restlessly.
"I need to be at school in the next thirty minutes. Brooke, I don't have time for your shenanigans."
"Who says shenanigans anymore? You're so old." Brooke snorted playfully.
"Well, I'm so thrilled you fine this so entertaining, but if you do not get your boozy butt up from that bed in the next three seconds, I will have to resort to you know what." Haley threatened.
"You wouldn't!" Brooke sat up quickly from her bed.
"Try me." Haley quipped. "One… Two…" And at the sound of two, Brooke sprang up from the bed and stumbled her way to the bathroom. "I need another drink." Brooke mumbled before she closed her bathroom door. It was not wise to test Haley on her threats, because without question they were never empty. The last time Brooke tested Haley's threat, Brooke found herself lying in a puddle of water, and an irretrievably damaged bed.
By the time Brooke arrived at the airport it was half past ten. Already an hour and half late, Brooke still continued to move in turtle speed. It wouldn't be Brooke if she wasn't fashionably late. Finally, reaching the terminal, she held a cardboard sign to her chest which read "LUKASS". Brooke smiled to herself; at least she thought it was funny.
Brooke stood looking around. She didn't know how the mystery man looked like, only that he was the exact opposite of Nathan. "Way to narrow it down Hales." Brooke mumbled silently. She began to curse under her breathe at Haley and Nathan. This was not how Brooke wanted to spend her Saturday morning.
"Brooke?" At the mention of her name, Brooke quickly turned around.
The man hovering Brooke was undoubtedly gorgeous, with his baby blues, tanned skin, and perfectly toned body, Brooke couldn't help herself. "You definitely don't look like Nathan." She unconsciously mouthed out.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" A mischievous smile graced his face.
Brooke raised her eyebrows at the man. "Are you Lucas?"
The man held his hand out at Brooke. "I'm Lucas, not Luk-ass." He eyed the flimsy cardboard in front of her.
Brooke still slightly dazed from his exterior finally caught on to what he meant as she looked at the sign and looked back into his eyes. The mere inconvenience of waking up eight o'clock in the morning to pick him up made him an ass. "Hmmm… looks like a typo." Brooke said as she turned away and chucked the cardboard to the ground.
"If you say so princess…" Lucas said directly following behind the brunette.
Brooke scoffed. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, I guess." Lucas shrugged his shoulders. "Nathan did tell me you're some sort of fashion designer." Lucas threw in a few jabs of his own.
"So?" Brooke questioned.
"Nothing." Lucas responded emotionless. Brooke cringed. All desirable thoughts of him went out the window along with his cocky arrogant attitude.
Brooke narrowed her eyes forward, continuing to walk towards the exit. Part of her purposely tried to lose the blonde, through the overwhelming mass of people that filled the airport. Brooke's small frame made it easy for her to weave in and out of crowds, unlike her companion who held two bulky bags on each side of his body. She smiled and giggled at the curse words being thrown at Lucas as his bags accidently hit and shoved innocent civilians passing by.
They finally reached Brooke's car. Brooke smiled to herself as she watched Lucas trying to catch his breath. She popped her trunk open, and he tiredly heaved his bags in. Brooke couldn't help but wonder how a seemingly athletic man, could be unbelievably tired.
"If I didn't know any better, it seemed like you were trying to lose me back there." Lucas said as he hopped in the passenger seat. Brooke automatically rolled her eyes as she started her engine. "Maybe you just can't keep up."
Lucas smirked at the petite brunette beside him. "Are you always this welcoming?"
Brooke ignored Lucas's sarcastic question as she peeled out of the parking structure leaving smoke and the smell of burnt rubber behind. Brooke needed to drop Lucas off at Nathan's home and be through with him. The less time she spent with this man, the better. It was too bad time wasn't on her side.
"You know honking like that isn't going to make these cars move." Lucas stated the obvious. Brooke once again ignored him, and profusely continued to brutalize her steering wheel. Lucas chuckled lightly at her behavior, quickly catching Brooke's attention. "What' so funny?"
"Nothing." Lucas grinned.
"Are you five years old? Stop answering that way." Brooke whined.
Lucas raised his eyebrows at the brunette, suggesting she was the one acting like a five year old. Brooke frustratingly turned back around at the traffic ahead of her and began honking again, this time with more intensity. Finally noticing that her actions were not making the situation any different, Brooke sighed in defeat and gently rested the back of her head against the headrest. "This must be how hell feels like."