Author's notes:

Blehhhh I'm so sorry:( Long time no see heheh (nervous laughing). Anyways, this is going on hiatus, but I'm going to upload everything that I've pre-written first. Thanks so much for all the comments and reviews, I love you:)))

Chapter four.

Brooklyn Chang

I collapse on the bed next to some stranger, but I can't bring myself to look over at him. 'You were great, darling.'

I don't even attempt to answer him. I'm too exhausted and overcome with depression to. Sure, this town pays good and my income is better than any job I've taken, but certain side-effects exists. 'Go clean yourself up, get yourself tidied and get out of here,' he says lazily.

I accept that.

Standing up (with some difficulty), I limp over to the washroom and let the water rain over me. This way I can cry into the shower and pretend that they aren't tears, just the tap water. Through the week, I've slept with more guys than the average American girl, and I feel like such a whore.

Dylan never came back to look for me, and I've accepted that as well. He's just one man- just one man who's taken advantage of you. Just one boy who's a customer. One boy who doesn't give a fuck about you.

I lay in bed and think of him sometimes. When I'm not doing anything I kind of feel his eyes- his blue grey eyes staring at my face. I don't know if it's because he was the first, but I can sometimes still feel him on my skin, and it scares me. It scares me to death.

I collect my things, and he gives me my money. Turning, I leave the hotel, hoping no one sees me here.

I'm due for this party that Bradley invited me to. I'm there in fifteen minutes. I barely need to walk in to smell the weed and alcohol. But I don't care. I mean, my life is trashed up already, so I don't see the point in it. I'm sitting on a chair, drinking vodka when someone sits next to me. 'Hey.'

'Hey,' I reply, and eye his cigarette.

He notices, and hands it to me. 'Want to try?'

I take it and inhale. 'Oh goddamn it, this shit is good.'

He chuckles, and I notice his face. He has dark brown hair and brown eyes. 'You know, you should come over sometimes. You seem like the type who knows how to have fun.'

I shrug, and answer, 'Maybe.'

He nods. 'Awesome. I'm Chase. You?'

'Brooke,' I answer, and accept the cigarette he shoves in front of me. 'You know what's funny? I've never actually done pot before but this really feels like natural instinct. It's strange.'

He doesn't answer me, and I hand the cig back to him as he inhales slowly.

'Damn, are you high already?' Bradley stopped by, laughing at me. 'You want me to drive you home? You're too turned up.'

I roll my eyes. 'Brad, I just got here.'

'It doesn't matter, you're too turned up!' she exclaimed, pulling her up by the arm.

I sigh and give in to her. 'Fine… All right…'

Chase calls after us. 'If you just wanna have some, come by Bates Motel and we'll have a great time, yeah?'

'Sure!' I yell, giggling as Bradley drags me and puts me into her car.

'Honestly, Brooke, what made you think doing weed was a good thing? You still have school tomorrow and you told me you were going to university! You can't trash yourself.'

I dismiss her with a wave of my hand. 'It'll be fine.'

She doesn't nag me any further, because she knows I won't listen to her, just as she doesn't listen to me all the time. She watches me get into my house before she leaves, and I can't help but feel like I was lucky to have such a friend.

She was right. I was so trashed, but I didn't have the strength to deny myself of the pleasure of going free. I just want to forget about everything, and I just want to forget the come back to us when you know you're wrong.

I do. I do know I'm wrong and I thought I could do it, but I couldn't.

I was never the favourite in the family. Always second best, and always put down. My parents never acknowledged what I did best, because Jason was always the one who pleased them with his achievements. I couldn't even begin to compare to him, after all this time.

I had had enough of them, and decided to get away, do things my own way and kiss my past goodbye. I wanted to only depend on myself. I wanted to show them I could live without them- without their money (and believe me, they had plenty).

I thought I could do it, I really did.

And obviously, I couldn't.

I fall asleep in my clothes that night.

I don't have work today, so I decide to go over Bates Motel to join Chase.

They are dressed in what is typically 'stoner' outfits. I shrug anyway, and smile at them as Chase comes and wraps an arm around my shoulder. He hands me a cig again, and I put it between my lips with no hesitation.

We mess around for a long time, and after he flirts with me for some time, he finally goes for the kill and pulls me close, kissing me. And I'm too high to refuse.

The group begins to cheer, and a woman I know as Norma Bates walks towards us, with Dylan and Norman following her closely behind. And she demands us to stop smoking. 'And you two over there, stop making out with each other. I'm right here,' she snaps at us, and I pull away from him reluctantly.

'Brooke?' Norman blurts out almost immediately.

I turn around slightly, scratching my head awkwardly. 'Hi, Norman.'

'You're kidding, right?' Ra'ul says, 'You know where you live, right? What the local economy is? No one cares.'

She turns to Norman first. 'Why do you know this girl?' he doesn't answer her and he continues, 'No one prepared me for the colossal frickin' facedive off a cliff that living in this crazy-ass town really is,' she says. 'However, what happens on my property is still under my control, and it does not include people in torn jeans with tie-dyed clothing and dirty hair hanging out on my new furniture smoking a doobie. So take that as the law around here, because there doesn't seem to be much of one otherwise.'

'Okay, just chill,' Ra'uf says, bringing his hand up.

'Chill your own ass,' she responds. 'Norman, I don't want you near the girl.'

Then she turns her attention to Dylan. 'What do they do?' she demands.

'Processing stuff,' Dylan says, staring right at me.

'What stuff?'

'Stuff.'

Norma glares at us. 'I hate this place. We're moving,' she whines, and I fight the urge to laugh at her. I'm high, after all.

Once she and Norman are gone, Dylan approaches me with a disapproving frown on his face. 'What the fuck do you think you're, Brooke?'

'Smoking pot, it seems,' I reply.

'Oh yeah? And does your boyfriend know what you do for a living?' he retorts.

My face hardens, and my whole body tenses up. My hand springs up, and I try to slap him but he grabs my wrist and slightly twists it. I wince in pain for a moment, and I fight the urge to cry out in pain. 'Did you actually think you could hit me?'

'He's not my boyfriend, and I intend on keeping my job under the blankets.'

'Well then, everyone would know.'

I understand his implication even when I'm high. 'You're such a fucking bastard you know?' I snap at him.

He shrugged, and looks nonchalant for a moment. Finally, he sighs. 'God, just what do you think you're doing, Brooklyn?'

I raise my eyebrows, and break away from the group. 'Well… I'll see you another time- wait, probably not, because you don't ever keep your word.'

He laughs, and I turn around, surprised. 'Oh, so that's what this is about?'

I roll my eyes. 'Don't flatter yourself, Dylan, you're not that important.'

He laughs again, and I'm so angry, but I just walk away from them like I'm not completely affected by the words he says, or the dismissal he shows me- I can't even take the condemnation. I can take it from other people, just not him. I don't know why he's different. He just is.

When I walk back home, I bump into Sheriff Romero. He stares at me like he knows what I do. And I think he does. He doesn't comment on it, but he doesn't look like he's the friendliest towards me as well. He just stares as I walk past.

Knowing there's nothing I can do at this point, I just go back home.

Pulling out my computer, I begin to type a heart-wrenching story that is so bad it nearly makes me want to kill myself. It has no plot and the characters are as bland and flat as it can get- just a bunch of guys breaking a girl's heart. But it makes me feel better, and it at least makes me cry when I'm numb.

I'm good for nothing. I really am.

They were right.