Another update! Haha. Originally, this chapter, the chapter before it, and the next chapter were all supposed to be together, but it was too long. Therefore, the next chapter is written out, I just have to wait until I update my next chapter of Himerus and Eros.
Anyways, read, review, the works. Enjoy. :D
--Chandler
With a bang, the door to the office at Tric flew open, and Peyton stormed inside. Her jaw was set, and she exhaled a deep, slow breath through her teeth as she paused for a fraction of a second to look around before going to her desk. Peyton had come directly from Clothes over Bros, after the whole conversation with Victoria. With another long, angry sigh, Peyton leaned on the wood table top of her desk and fumed for a moment about what had happened at the store earlier, and also what had happened four years ago in New York.
Brooke had waited all this time, four years, to tell her that she had hooked up with Lucas in New York? Well, not hooked up, exactly, but had still essentially spent the whole night and gotten drunk with him. And now Brooke tells her? After Victoria forces the conversation? Peyton shook her head and automatically looked around her office, searching for a distraction, something to do. Then, glancing into the recording studio, she immediately forgot about her troubles with Brooke. How convenient.
Haley was in the studio, sitting at the piano with her back to the door and obviously playing something. Since the room was soundproof, Peyton had had no idea that the brunette was even there. Moving slowly, Peyton stepped into the soundboard part of the studio and sat in the leather chair to watch Haley as she sung. She forgot her irritation for a moment, and just listened. It was a pretty song, and one that seemed Haley had been working on for a while. Slowly, as the song progressed, the smile on Peyton's face grew. When the song finished, Haley sat back, and Peyton leaned forward to press the talkback button with the grin still on her face.
"And you said you didn't have anything," the blonde teased. Haley jumped and threw her hands in the air, then spun on the piano bench to face Peyton.
"Wow, it's about time my boss shows up," Haley countered, getting over her shock quickly. After a second she smiled warmly. "I saw that you weren't here, then I saw the empty piano so I thought I'd sit down and play until you got here." She gave a little half-shrug, making Peyton laugh.
"Were you singing at all?"
Haley matched Peyton's smirk. "A bit. I've got the sheet music here, if you'd like it. It's the song I was talking about on Friday, at the playoff game. Want it?"
One blonde eyebrow shot up, Peyton's shock all over her face. "Damn, Haley, you wrote the music for the song too? I'd call you an overachiever, but then again, you are Haley James-Scott, tutor wife, so I kinda expect it by now." Peyton paused, and Haley took the opportunity to make a face at her. "But let's see the music. Bring it in here." Rolling her eyes, Haley hopped off the bench and grabbed the papers from the piano. Peyton spun around a bit in one of the swivel chairs by the soundboard, until a second later Haley bounded in and wordlessly handed her the sheets.
Peyton laid the sheets down on the soundboard, which had the best light of the dim room, and scanned them quickly. Behind her, Haley had changed noticeably from the calm, relaxed person she'd been while playing; she seemed more nervous, almost. She began pacing behind the chair, back and forth to the other side of the room and back again, running her hands through her hair as she waited for Peyton's opinion on the music she had written.
Finally, Peyton looked up from the papers, but she was laughing. "Haley, calm down!" she half-shouted, and Haley smiled ruefully before collapsing into the chair next to the blonde. Peyton waited, then continued, "This is really, really good, Haley. We should definitely record this." She picked the papers up and straightened them out, waiting for a response.
"Thanks," Haley replied, biting her lip instinctively.
"Why are you so panicky?" Peyton asked, throwing the music back onto the table. When Haley didn't reply, she continued, "Do you want to record this? It'll be great for you, and just what the label needs. If you want to, I would say we start recording now."
Haley, in response, took a steeling breath. "I want to record, it's just old nerves. Sorry." She flashed Peyton another apologetic smile. "But if we can record now, I'm up for it. Let's just do it."
"That's my girl," Peyton laughed, finally smiling. "Everything's set, I did it this morning. Now all we need is you. Ready?"
Another deep breath of resolve. "Ready." Then Haley jumped up, leaving no time for doubts. She was excited, ready to sing again. It'd been so long, and she missed it so much. She could be nervous later. As she made her way into the room and readied herself at the piano, Peyton sat back comfortably in the leather chair. What had happened this afternoon with Brooke was completely out of her mind now, gone; she had no time to dwell on that sort of thing. Music had always clamed her down, hadn't it? The only difference now was that it was one of her best friends playing, and Peyton was doing a lot more than simply enjoying a meaningful song. She could talk to Brooke or even Lucas tomorrow. Now, all that mattered was Haley and producing the perfect record. She settled herself deeper into the chair, proud and expectant, as the first few strains of Haley's song floated into the sound room.
With their feet up on the desk, Peyton and Haley relaxed in the airy office of Tric after they had finished recording. Peyton was messing with her laptop, and Haley was nursing a bottle of water to keep her throat relaxed and cool. In a little over an hour in the recording studio, they had recorded three initial versions of Haley's new song: one on piano, one on guitar, and one with simply Haley's voice. It was three-thirty when they finished, and they had been taking it easy, chatting casually, for the past half hour or so.
Suddenly, Peyton looked up at Haley from the computer. A decisive look had come over the blonde's face; she sat up straighter in the chair, set her jaw, and raised her chin. She looked official, almost, and very professional. For a moment, she watched Haley stare off into space, then she cleared her throat. Haley snapped to attention.
"Ok look," she said to Haley, her tone matching her businesslike attitude, "I want you to be a permanent part of this label. We'll record a CD, everything. We can talk to John in LA about him partnering with us, like we did with Mia. All the stops, everything. Want to?"
The bluntness of Peyton's voice took Haley by surprise. She paused for a second, as if to confirm what she'd heard. "What? You want me on the label?"
"Hell yeah," Peyton said, nodding vigorously, then explained, "We've been kinda lacking in the new artist department, and you have the talent to not only go far, but bring a lot of publicity to the label." Then, seeing the still-stunned look on the brunette's face, she added, "Haley, look. I saw how happy you were when you were singing, how great I know you feel because you're writing music again. I know you want this."
"But Nathan and Jamie—" Haley began, but Peyton quickly interrupted.
"You wouldn't have to go on any tours, and if you did, I could arrange them around summer vacation or basketball offseason, if you'd like." She paused and grinned, "And the label would pay for extra hotel rooms, as needed." A real smile had taken hold of Peyton now; she knew Haley well enough that she knew the brunette wouldn't be able to refuse.
As expected, a wide smile broke over Haley's face as well. "Why not?" she asked, laughing. "I'm in. I'd love to." Then she laughed again, crazily, with the giddy excitement and disbelief someone who was about to skydive and couldn't believe they were actually going to do it.
"Perfect," Peyton said, with a businesslike nod but a Peyton-like smile. She stood up to reach over and officially shake Haley's hand.
Haley laughed a little as they sat back down. "And I just sold my soul, didn't I?"
"Yep," Peyton replied happily, sticking her tongue out. The business attitude vanished in a heartbeat; now Peyton was all giddy smiles. She turned her gaze back to her computer and pressed a few mote buttons, then took a sip of her own water.
Rolling her eyes, Haley said sarcastically, "Great. And you know, there are other things you could do to get the label some publicity. Flyers, podcasts, nights at Tric, anything. I could help out, if you want, since we're working together now."
Peyton nodded, finishing off her bottle of water and tossing it into the trash can. "We should definitely look into stuff like that. We could talk to Mia too, have her advertise a bit on her tours. And we can advertise for you as well, when we get you out there."
Haley nodded, then stared contemplatively up at the ceiling. "I wonder what Nathan and Jamie will think about the whole music thing?"
With a soft click, the disc compartment of Peyton's computer opened and she popped out the disc. "Well," the blonde said, grabbing a black marker, "Play them this CD for them and then see what they think." As she spoke, she wrote something in big black letters on the surface of the CD, then handed it to Haley. Taking it, Haley read the bold letters scrawled across in Peyton's handwriting.
Haley James-Scott. Red Bedroom Records. Single No. 1.
"Feel This."
For some reason, having tangible evidence of her efforts in her hand, holding her song, gave Haley an enormous, overwhelming sense of pride. She smiled a wide smile, biting her lip and running her fingers over the disc as Peyton searched through the desk drawers for an empty CD case.
"Here," the blonde said, finally handing her one a second later. "Go home and play Nathan and Jamie that, and tell them you're officially part of RBR." Peyton seemed just as proud and happy as Haley, as she should.
Haley took the case with an accepting smile. "Thanks, P. Sawyer." And she wasn't simply talking about the case, but about the future and the song and the solid confirmation of their hard work and what was to come. They smiled at each other for a minute, enjoying the official feeling of starting something new and amazing. "This is going to be really good," was all Haley said, and then they became simple best friends again, hanging out.
"You did good, Hales," announced Peyton, with a touch of finality. "And we're officially done for the day. I'm going home to take a shower and eat whatever I have in my fridge, and you are going to go show that CD to your husband. Deal?" She said it firmly and forcefully, almost as if she were reprimanding Haley. Haley, in turn, raised an eyebrow.
"Jeez. I really did sell my soul, huh?"
"Shut up," Peyton laughed, rolling her eyes as she rose to leave. Haley followed suit with CD held tightly in her hand. "But you're really going to share this? Because I know you, tutor girl, and you've been known to be kinda paranoid about this sort of thing. Nervous and shy, to say the least." Peyton seemed very concerned that Haley would simply put the CD away once she got home, and that wasn't something that Peyton wanted to happen. If Haley was going to a part of the label, Peyton knew she would have to get over her nerves sooner or later. And the blonde felt it her job to help Haley with that.
"I will, Peyton, trust me." They made their way down the stairs and into the parking lot, where they paused before they would go their own ways to their cars. The day was still bright and sunny out; it was only around four o'clock that Sunday afternoon.
"I trust you," Peyton assured her, nodding, "I'm positive Nathan will hear this."
"Ok, good," Haley replied. In all honesty, she had absolutely no intention of showing Nathan her song. Not any time soon, at least. It was just that Haley had gone so long without music and had talked about it but never actually done anything, that having an actual recorded CD and real song felt so alien that it would take a while getting used to again. Plus, she already had a great life with Nathan and Jamie without music, and she didn't want to take the chance of ruining anything. But she wasn't going to tell Peyton that. "I'll talk to you later, ok, P. Sawyer?"
"Sounds good. Bye, Tutor girl."
"Bye, Peyton."
"Rachel, get off the counter." Brooke's voice, though sharp, had an underlying tone of excitement that only Brooke could pull off. "You're scaring away all the customers."
Rachel lay on the counter of Clothes over Bros, holding over her face one of the latest fashion magazines that was regularly delivered to the store. She was stretched out like a cat in the sun, her head near the cash register and her feet barely dangling off the other edge of the counter. She turned her head and raised her eyebrow at Brooke's order.
"Actually, I'm pretty sure the 'Closed' sign is deterring any customers," she replied coolly, but sat up and swung her legs over the edge anyway. Brooke ignored her.
"So guess what," Brooke said, jumping up in the air a bit and beaming. She stood directly in front of Rachel, in the center of the store. It was old cheerleader Brooke, the bouncy, bubbly one from high school. Rachel could almost see the Ravens cheer uniform.
"What?" Rachel had been in state of casual half-dozing, and her eyelids felt heavy.
Millicent's voice came from the doorway. "Presenting the newest clothing line from the ever popular C over B, designed by Brooke Davis herself!" she announced, flourishing her arms like a brunette Vanna White. Brooke smiled appreciatively and gave a little nod to her friend, while Rachel sat up a little more expectantly. Millicent disappeared back into the room with another wave of her arms.
"I finished," Brooke said quickly to Rachel, looking like a little girl on Christmas. "The line's done." She gave a happy sort of wiggle.
Before Rachel could reply, Millicent came out of the back, wheeling a clothing rack with four or five dresses on it. "And here we are," Brooke said. Millicent hopped up onto the counter next to Rachel to watch the mini-fashion show while Brooke carefully removed a dress from the rack. The silver fabric of the first elegant dress almost seemed to sparkle. Brooke waved it around for a few minutes, then replaced the dress on the rack and pulled off a new one, this time a thigh-length red cocktail type dress that was definitely Brooke's type. Millicent and Rachel clapped politely.
The show went on, every few minutes Brooke wheeling out a new rack of dresses or tops or skirts; she occasionally commented on a piece or asked Rachel and Millicent what they thought about it. They always answered with praise for the clothes, and Brooke always flushed proudly. She'd designed clothes before, of course; but this was one of her few lines where she had imagined, sketched, and created every article of clothing without the help of other company designers.
As Brooke rolled the last rack into the closet, Rachel leaned back a little on the counter and let out a long, tired breath. "We finally finished the line," she said, "Through hospitals and fights and Momma Vicky, I didn't know it was going to be so much work!" The wiped the metaphorical sweat from her brow.
"Rachel," Millicent rolled her eyes, "You didn't do anything. More importantly, you've worked with Brooke for longer than I have."
"Yeah, but that was just wearing the clothes and looking hot. I'm not really up for the whole manual labor thing."
Millicent rolled her eyes again and laughed. After Millicent's reconciliation with Mouth, she had decided it was time to forgive Rachel. Since a few days after the hospital incident and Mouth and Millie's reunion of sorts, Rachel and Millicent had accepted one another and even become good friends. It was a good thing, for C/B at least; had their constant death glares and scathing remarks back and forth across the store continued, the line would have never gotten finished.
Brooke returned to the counter with a few papers and a pen in hand. "Well, it's a good thing we finished, then. No more manual labor for a while. Unless you count customers." She paused. "Or guys. But we won't get into that."
All three of the girls laughed. This was their time to hang out and just be friends, not working and with no one else watching. "So, I guess you're going to be pretty busy tonight? With Lucas, I mean," Rachel said boldly, biting her tongue and her eyes dancing; she loved calling Brooke out and watching her squirm. The little snarky conversations were a normal occurrence around this time of day.
Brooke looked up from her papers, her eyebrow kinked with just a hint of suggestiveness. She could play the game too. A half-laugh, a little shrug, an impish smirk, the quickest glance at Rachel; Brooke pretended to check her calendar and said, "Yep, I'll be pretty busy. In fact, I'll be tied up the whole night." Then her look changed from suggestive to blankly innocent as she fully met Rachel's gaze, with only her eyes sparkling, leading the redhead to make of it what she will. Millicent bit her tongue and shook her head as she counted the money in the cash register, listening but remaining quiet and holding back a smile.
The snarky reply was on the tip of Rachel's tongue, but just as she opened her mouth and leaned forward as silver car pulled up outside. All three girls stopped what they were doing and watched Mouth McFadden climb out of the car and jog up the front steps of the store.
"Well," Rachel said, thinking better of her retort to Brooke and instead leaning back with a look of smug satisfaction, "I guess Millicent will be celebrating too!"
Millicent's head snapped up. "Um, no," she said with conviction, eager to not get sucked into the double-meaning conversation. "Marvin and I are just going out to dinner." Brooke and Rachel leaned onto each other's shoulders, shaking with laughter. Millicent barely resisted the urge to stick her tongue out, which was a good thing because at that moment Mouth came walking in.
"So ladies, what is underneath the clothes?" he asked in a deep, mocking voice, with one eyebrow raised.
Brooke groaned and picked her head off Rachel's shoulder from where she'd been laughing; her face was red. "Shut up, Mouth, I'm never telling you anything again." She glared, a dimpled smile on her face, and Millicent and Rachel snickered. Mouth dropped his façade and chuckled too as he walked towards the counter and took Millicent in a hug. After a moment, he turned to Rachel.
"How've you been?" he asked warmly in that Mouth way. Rachel smiled.
Even after Mouth and Millie had gotten back together at the hospital, Millicent had been guarded around Rachel; Mouth hadn't spoken to the redhead at all. It had taken a great deal of persuasion on Brooke's part to get Millie to simply talk to Rachel, for she knew that the three of them would never be able to come up with a line in time for the board if Millicent and Rachel couldn't work together. But there was a reason Millicent bore such a hard grudge against Rachel, why it was so difficult to be forgiving: Millicent had experienced the same sort of girls in high school, and thought she knew what Rachel was about. Eventually, though, they started talking again; a comment here, a compliment there, and within a few days Rachel was back to her previous status with Millicent. Then Rachel made amends with Mouth, and they were back to their old friendship. And she was fine with that.
"Hey, Mouth," Rachel replied simply with a smile.
Mouth smiled and looked towards Brooke. "And you, Brooke Davis?"
"I've been fine. I finished all the clothes!" She put her arms up, grinning like a girl in a candy shop, excitedly showing him the clean boutique.
He chuckled again, then said, "What about Lucas? With his whole heart thing?" He still had one arm wrapped around Millicent. Brooke hopped off the counter before she answered, and wandered to a shelf where she began refolding clothes with her back to the group.
"He's been ok too. Luckily, the basketball game didn't get his heart rate up too high. The doctor said he should go walking more, so Luke's been doing that lately. I've gone once or twice with him, but mostly he wants to be alone. But he's been walking and shooting around occasionally at the Rivercourt." She finished with the clothes and looked at the three again. "But nothing heavy."
"Alright, as long as he's ok," Mouth said, nodding. "And will you have him call me? I need to talk to Luke about something important."
"Sure I will, Mouth," Brooke replied, nodding as Mouth had. "But—"
Rachel interrupted. "But Brooke will be a little tied up tonight, so he'll probably get back to you tomorrow." Without hesitation, she grinned and blinked innocently at Mouth, carefully keeping her eyes averted from Brooke's simmering gaze. She knew that if she met Brooke's eyes, she'd start laughing.
"What?" Mouth laughed, confused, while Millicent grimaced and buried her head in his chest.
"Nothing," Brooke said sharply before Rachel could reply. Then, struggling for something to say under pressure, she stuttered, "I-I'll have him call you." She took a deep breath, then looked around with a fresh smile. "Anyways, are you two going to head out now, Millie?"
"Yep," she announced, finally breaking away from Mouth and going to grab her purse. "I'm officially done."
"Good," said Brooke, "Now go have fun on your date."
Mouth and Millicent said goodbye and were halfway to the door when Rachel called out, "And don't celebrate too hard!" Mouth gave her a confused look as he went out the door and Millicent gave her a death glare and made a violent slashing motion across her neck to tell Rachel to cut it out. Brooke and Rachel, both having resumed their seats on the counter, fell against each other in another fit of laughter.
It didn't take long for the two girl's breathing rates to return to normal, and soon they had resumed standard pre-closing routine. Meaning, Rachel sat on the counter, usually with some sort of smoothie or food, and watched Brooke close up the shop. Occasionally, the redhead would add in some color commentary to make things interesting and entertaining.
This seemed to be one of those afternoons. "So, Brooke," she said from her perch on the metal counter. Brooke finished refolding some shirts and looked over her shoulder, cool and businesslike from the other end of the store. "How have you and Lucas been doing lately? Besides the sex, which I know, like, isn't happening. At all."
Having geared herself up for something resembling their conversation before Mouth had walked in, Brooke was stunned by Rachel's clear, unambiguous question. It seemed to have come out of nowhere. Jaw dropping open, Brooke threw down the shirt that she had been in the process of folding and turned to Rachel. She planted one hand on her hip and scoffed derisively. "Excuse me?" she asked, kinking one eyebrow scathingly. Instead of contradicting Rachel's statement or even throwing back something as equally nasty, as any other person would have done, Brooke was simply Brooke and disdainfully said, "And how do you know it isn't happening?"
Rachel snorted, holding back laughter. "Brooke. I know because you haven't been glowing lately. At all." Brooke stiffened, ready to interrupt, but Rachel continued, "I remember back in senior year when I used to see you and Lucas walk in together at a basketball game or even into before class, and seventy-five percent of the time you would be glowing and even he would be a little flushed. It was kind of a giveaway about what had happened five minutes earlier."
Brooke rolled her eyes, but denied nothing. The small flicker of a smile even played on her lips, though she tried to hold it back. Grabbing the shirt from behind her and keeping her eyes on Rachel, Brooke folded it quickly, still in silence, then strode across the store and hopped up onto the counter next to her friend.
"Am I right?" Rachel asked, smirking. Brooke just flipped her off and rolled her eyes again, biting her tongue and opting for a silent denial. Rachel just laughed.
A few minutes later, though, Brooke finally spoke. "Lucas and I are fine," she said, nodding, "He's been sweet lately, and loving. It's nice." She didn't look at Rachel, instead focusing on the street and absently thinking about her boyfriend.
"Mmhmm," Rachel said, nodding, paying about as much attention as a student in a boring class would. She examined her fingernails.
Brooke essentially ignored her friend's less-than-enthused answer. It was almost as if she was talking out loud to herself, listening to her own thoughts; Rachel was forgotten. "But really," Brooke said, her tone changing slightly, "I don't know sometimes about him." She said it as if it was a subconscious thought, one that she had never really considered before, that was only now coming to the surface. "He gets so intimate sometimes, so lovey-dovey and close and romantic and all about our love and everything. It's all we talk about."
"And that's a bad thing?" Rachel asked, looking up. So apparently she had been listening. "Most girls would love it if their boyfriend was like Lucas."
Brooke shook her head. "Of course it's not a bad thing; I just feel that sometimes we're only close in the romantic way." Rachel started to protest, but Brooke cut her off. "Really, it doesn't feel like we have the depth to our relationship that we used to have. Like there is no friendship involved, just endless "I love you's." And I do love him, without a doubt, but I want something more." She had slipped into talking to herself again, saying her thoughts out loud in attempt to clear her head. Rachel listened, gazing at the floor intently.
"But Lucas obviously loves you," the redhead said as Brooke paused in her speech, "It's not like your relationship is going to crash and burn because you feel that you don't have as good a friendship with him as you used to."
"See, that's the thing." She took a deep breath, then continued with a firm voice. "Relationships and even marriages fall apart all the time because people get too caught up in the initial romance of it all. If that's all Lucas and I have, what's going to happen when it fades?" Her thoughts trailed off into silence, and for a few moments nothing was heard in the empty store.
Rachel finally sighed, and it seemed thunderously loud after the complete silence. "Why are you thinking about this now?" she asked, "What prompted this whole idea of 'not having a friendship with Lucas?'" At long last, she seemed concerned and invested in the conversation, and that was more of a relief that Brooke could have imagined.
"Ever since the hospital, it almost seems like he's been pulling away, and I feel that lack of friendship more than ever now." It seemed strange, how quickly the tone of the conversation had swung from laughing and teasing to Brooke's insecurities. She almost laughed, thinking about it.
Rachel sighed again, finally out of questions. She laid back on the countertop, thinking. "Well, what are you going to do?" asked the redhead blankly.
Brooke laid back on the counter as well, sighing exactly as Rachel had. They sat like that for a long moment, in silence once more.
"I don't know," Brooke finally decided, quietly. "I have to go talk to Peyton."
Haley could have sworn when she walked into her house that afternoon that the smell that met her at the door was some form of burning food. Vegetables, maybe? Perhaps cheese. Running water, the hissing stove and the loud clanking of dishes blared from the kitchen. Maybe her husband and son were just cleaning up.
At least, she hoped that was all it was as she shut the door behind her and walked forward.
"Nathan?"
Nathan's head poked around the corner. "Hey, Hales. Jamie and I just made dinner for you." Despite the calmness of his voice, Nathan had that distinct, wild-eyed look of someone who had absolutely no clue what he was doing. Haley got the feeling that her return home may have been the source of his panic; she laughed and smiled at him, silent appreciation, silent thanks. He smiled back. "So, um, why don't you just go and sit at the table and we'll bring the food out?"
She nodded, still pleasantly surprised but slightly wary. "Thanks, Nate." As she thanked him, a warm smile spread over her face: her boys had cooked dinner. How sweet of them.
Haley hadn't believed it possible to make a brick out of macaroni, but there it was, on her plate. Somehow the cheese (which had been the burning smell that met her when she'd walked in) had bonded the macaroni together into one inedible mass. She stared at it in mild disbelief for a second, then looked up at Nathan and Jamie: they were eyeing their food with an expression of upmost distaste on their faces. Hoping against hope that the burnt cheese might suddenly thin out and supply them with an actual edible dinner, Haley decided on conversation to pass the time.
"So, Nathan, what's the occasion? The kitchen isn't exactly your area of expertise," she teased.
Nathan tore his eyes away from the food and adopted a more casual attitude. He poked at the yellow lump on his plate carelessly. "Well, Jamie and I—"
"Hey, don't bring me into this," Jamie interrupted, his wide eyes still glued to his dinner. He watched it warily, as if it were from another planet and it might suddenly leap up and attack him. Haley laughed at Jamie throwing Nathan under the bus so quickly, then turned back to her husband to see his reaction. He watched Jamie, looking a little shocked and mildly amused, as if he had just taken a pie to the face.
"Ok," he said after a minute, "I decided to make you dinner because it's a sort of celebration that you're recording again. We cleaned the kitchen too."
"Oh, thank you Nathan," Haley said, smiling. "That's sweet." Her face was warm and sunny, and she felt like leaning over and kissing him, and Jamie. She tried to lean back in her chair to see the kitchen, but Nathan caught her shoulder and pulled her back to the table. Haley turned around to face him, the sunny feeling gone and confusion taking it's place. Nathan shook his head.
"You didn't let me finish. I said we cleaned the kitchen, but then we made dinner. You don't want to see the kitchen anymore."
Haley's smile abruptly dropped from her face. "Oh," she said, nodding slowly. "Uh…ok then." Nathan sat back, relieved, letting out a long breath. Haley laughed a little, raising one eyebrow at her two boys. That was her Nathan and Jamie.
"So, tell us about the recording," Nathan said a few minutes later. It was obvious the macaroni was not ever going to be eaten; they had dropped it into the garbage can, where it landed with a loud 'clunk', then they had dusted their hands and called for pizza. The three of them sat on the couch, with Jamie on Haley's lap. Nathan waited expectantly, and Jamie even squirmed a little, and suddenly Haley couldn't say anything about the recording session.
"Well," She paused for a long moment, not meeting her husband's eyes, then decided on, "It was decent, but nothing really came of it. Peyton said it would take a lot of work for a demo and everything, so we talked about it and we're still kinda deciding whether or not to go through with it." She nodded and shrugged at the same time.
It wasn't that she wanted to lie to Nathan and Jamie; usually she hated it. But with music, she was reviving a part of herself that had lain dormant for so long and had some bad memories associated with it. It was almost a guilty feeling, the way she felt about music. And, of course, she was nervous about getting back into recording again, so therefore a part of her was shying away from it. Her subconscious mind would come up with excuses such as 'It's been too long' or 'You're fine without it', subconscious excuses that she would soon find herself repeating in her conscious mind and eventually accepting as truths. And Haley knew that Nathan would dispel whatever doubts she had of herself, but it was easier to just keep the doubts and stay in her normal life. So, if she had an excuse out of music, she didn't have to leave the comfort zone again, despite her love for recording and singing. And she'd take the life she had now any day. A bird in the hands, as the saying went.
"Really?" Nathan asked, rubbing his chin. "It'd be too hard?" His brow furrowed, and he examined a spot on the wall as if trying to figure a solution from it. Haley waited impatiently for him to agree with her and for them to forget about the music thing. Then Nathan turned his eyes back to her. "So there was no CD, no song, nothing?"
Haley shook her head. "Nope," she said simply, giving a little shrug. "Oh well."
Nathan stared at her. "So no song at all, huh?"
"No, there wasn't any song," she said, a little more firmly. She felt the hot weight of the guilt, considering the CD of the basic song she'd recorded was in her purse. She resolved to hide it as soon as Nathan wasn't looking. Seeming not to notice her guilt, Nathan frowned and furrowed his brow.
"That's interesting. Especially because Peyton called me as soon as you left Tric to say that you did have a song, and that you were just lying. So let's see it, Haley James."
Haley kept the swear words in her mouth and instead muttered to herself, "I knew I sold my soul," as she got up and went into the hallway. Nathan smirked and high fived Jamie in the short space of time that she was gone, and both boys resumed their quiet smirks as soon as Haley came back into the living room. She carried a silver disc in one hand, and a simmering glare on her face. Indignantly, and with Nathan near laughter in the background, Haley strode across the room and slid the disc into the stereo. The first strains of the song, her song, started to fill the air as she fell back onto the couch between Nathan and Jamie.
Jamie squirmed into her lap again, and Haley held him close, almost like a little stuffed animal that she hugged for comfort. She looked slightly anxious in the way her shoulders hunched ever so slightly and worry lines on her face. Nathan clapped a hand on her knee and rubbed her leg in a comforting gesture.
"So, you wouldn't tell us about this because…?"
"Just because," she shrugged. She wasn't even sure herself. "I guess—" Haley took a deep breath and faced Nathan on the couch with a new look of resolve in her eye. She was going to say this no matter what. "It's just a big thing for me to get back into music, and there are so many things that I worry about. Truthfully, it'd almost be easier to just forget about music and stay like this, with you and Jamie. And I guess some part of me figured that if I dismissed the song, that I'd dismiss the music and I could forget about it."
The song played in the background, and for a long moment it was the only sound in the house as Nathan contemplated what his wife had said. His hand tapped barely with the beat of the music, and he stared at the stereo. Then he looked back at her. "You know, Hales, usually I'd let you do what you wish. You could give up almost anything, as long as you're happy, and I'd be perfectly ok with it. But I sit here and listen to this song, and I can't let you just 'dismiss' music. You went in there and did this song at the drop of a dime, and this is what came of it. The song is great, and so is your potential. It's your dream. So no, you can't just forget about it."
Her voice rang out from the stereo, the final verse of the song. Then there was a guitar and piano, then just the piano. Then the music faded, and the house was left in a surprisingly loud silence. It felt as if someone needed to talk, like it was required just to fill the void of sound. "Well," Nathan said, examining his fingernails with an air of confidence before he looked up at her, "You look like you're feeling pretty guilty. May I ask why?" The infamous Nathan Scott crooked half-smile was on his face, with one innocent eyebrow raised, so Haley wasn't entirely sure if he was joking or not.
"I just—"
"Wrote a damn good song, even if you didn't want to tell us," he finished for her with a slow nod. Then the half smile became a full and bright one, embracing Haley instead of shining a spotlight on her. "Didn't I tell you this morning that Jamie and I are going to be there every step of the way? That includes the demo CD's, Hales. So nice try, but we're still going to hear it."
Jamie suddenly felt the need to pipe up. "And you sing really good, Momma!"
Hadn't Haley just been thinking about how much she loved her two boys? Now here they were, supporting her when she had no idea what to do. A sudden rush of warm gratitude poured through her, making her smile. It reflected in Nathan's eyes, and he smiled as well. It was what she loved to do, and she wanted to be a musician. She'd grown up wanting to do this, and now the two people she loved most were behind her. The pure joy must have shined in her face.
"And I proudly present," said Nathan softly, "Haley James-Scott, singer and songwriter."
And there you go. I'd like to point out that this chapter takes place on the same day as the last chapter, the Sunday after the first playoff game. So, not a lot of time has passed. Also, the next chapter will take place on the same day as well. And, if you are missing BL, no worries; they are essentially the entire next chapter :D
If you liked it, you know what to do! :D
--Chandler