Hey guys! I know that I'm currently working on "It's Over, I Think" but a great idea just came to me a couple days ago, and I can't help but not post it. Just a quick warning to all of you; this story is AU so don't be surprised if some things are completely different from the show. -----Sera
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Disclaimer: Sadly, One Tree Hill isn't mine. Even worse, so is James Lafferty.
As soon as Haley James stepped out of her best friend Peyton Sawyer's sleek silver convertible, she knew this was a bad idea.
"Where are we again?" She asked nervously.
Her other best friend, Brooke Davis rolled her eyes, getting out of the car. "How many times do I have to tell you? We're in Tric."
Haley knew exactly was the club Tric was. It was the most popular LA hotspot known to mankind and getting in there was probably harder than rocket science. She knew that Brooke had to do some insane flirting to be able to snag invites so it wouldn't really be fair if she didn't go.
Haley was beginning to realize her mistake.
"Don't worry, Hales – we're just going to a party." Peyton assured her.
"It's not just a party. It's the party of all parties, thanks of course, to me." Brooke said proudly as she gave Peyton a high-five.
Haley knew what kind of parties her friends attended. It was nothing like the usual parties she had when she was five with her grandma.
She saw how excited her best friends were and sighed at how different they all were. They had met when they were in the first grade…
"'Bye, mommy! I'll see you after school!" A little blond girl called to her mother as she got off the car.
"You take care now, Peyton."
The blond girl called Peyton watched her mother drive away and sat herself on the bench. She took out a piece of slightly wrinkled paper from her bag and a pencil then began to draw.
Suddenly, a voice said behind her, "What are you doing?"
Peyton looked up to see a dark-haired girl about her age. She was very pretty, especially when she flashed a dimpled smile. Peyton found it highly amusing that the little girl was wearing her colors color-coordinated, while she, on the other hand, was just wearing a plain shirt, jeans and her worn-out Chuck Taylors.
Before Peyton could answer, the little girl began talking nonstop. "Why are you drawing? Classes haven't even started yet. Have they started yet? I hope I'm not late. Are you late? You must be because you're here outside with me. There are an awful lot of kids here. Are they late, too? Do we get punished for being late? How about prizes, do we get prizes? I hope we do. Maybe I'd like school more if we did."
It was amazing how the girl could say all of that so fast without catching her breath or stumbling over her words. "Er – I don't really know."
"I'm Brooke Davis, by the way."
"Peyton Sawyer."
Brooke then noticed Peyton's curly, blond hair. "You look like that girl in my story book – the one who ate all the soup –"
"Excuse me – but I do believe that Goldilocks ate porridge, and not soup." Another voice said quietly, interrupting them.
They spun around to see a shy-looking girl with blond pigtails and reading a book.
"How do you know it's porridge?" Brooke challenged, miffed at the fact that this little girl was not only butting in, she was also correcting her.
"How do you know it's soup?" The blond girl threw back.
"My book says it's soup."
"Well, your book must be wrong because mine says it's porridge."
"Soup!"
"Porridge!"
"Soup!"
"Por –"
"Alright, I think we get the idea that it's something like those two." Peyton said loudly, worried that the two of them would start pulling each other's hair.
"Whatever. Go read your stupid porridge book." Brooke said, frowning at the blond girl.
The girl threw her a glare and stalked to the sandbox. She crouched down and began scooping sand on her shirt.
"That girl's weird." Brooke remarked rudely.
"She is not, Brooke." Peyton defended, though she couldn't help but wonder why the heck that girl was scooping up sand.
Unable to resist her curiosity, Brooke walked to the girl. "Hey Porridge, what are you doing?"
She looked up. "I'm saving the ants."
"Why?"
"Because they're going to get stepped on – and I don't want them to die just because we can't see them." She explained.
"But they're ants. They're supposed to get stepped on." Peyton pointed out.
"That wouldn't be very fair to them, would it?"
As strange as it was, Brooke and Peyton somehow saw the logic in what the girl said as they crouched down next to her and began to help.
After a few seconds, the girl said quietly, "My name's Haley."
Since then, the three of them were inseparable. Sure, they had their occasional fights but they were best friends all throughout their lives.
After graduating from UCLA, the three of them decided to live in Los Angeles but get started on their separate careers.
Brooke was a very talented fashion designer and she was starting her own fashion line, Clothes Over Bro's, which was rapidly gaining the attention it deserved. The latest news was that Nicole Richie was seen wearing a Clothes Over Bro's top. It wouldn't be too long until the name was synonymous with D&G and those other designers Haley knew nothing about.
Peyton met a guy named Jake Jagelski, who owned a rising record company. They began dating for a few months and soon, they were engaged. They were to be married next year, and no one could be happier for Peyton than her friends.
Haley's career, on the other hand, wasn't as flashy or glamorous as her friends' were. In fact, her career wouldn't even be considered under the category of flashy or glamorous. She had applied to several magazine companies in the hope of becoming a columnist there but she was always denied.
Finally, she forced herself to apply in the local newspaper, the Los Angeles Times but so far, she hadn't received a confirmation yet. Haley was merely praying that it wouldn't be a dead-end job and as long as it could pay the bills, it was fine.
And as long as it didn't bore the pants off of her.
They had only been in LA for half a year and Brooke and Peyton were already far more successful than Haley was. Sometimes, she could not help but feel pangs of jealousy when they had no overdue bills, rent and food to worry about – not to mention the fact that Haley was still stuck in her copywriting position.
It really wasn't their fault – but still . . .
Brooke noticed the uncertain look on Haley's face. "Relax, Hales. It's going to be really fun and we're here with you until we leave. Okay?"
Reluctantly, she nodded and they began to walk inside.
Then Brooke added, "Besides, you look so hot that all the guys will be staring at you – that is, when they're not staring at me."
Peyton rolled her eyes. "You ready?"
Haley started to say "no" but then the bouncer unhooked the red, velvet rope as Brooke pushed her inside the club.
"I can't do this you guys –"
"I see Jake – I'll see you later." Peyton said, walking towards him.
"I see a hot guy – ooh, there's three of them –" Brooke said excitedly as she walked to them as well.
"So much for 'we're here with you until we leave.'" Haley muttered distastefully. She proceeded to the bar.
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On the other side of Tric club were the famous Scott brothers – Nathan and Lucas. To anyone who constantly kept up with the latest celebrity news, they were as different as fire and ice.
Lucas Scott was a well-known New York Times' bestselling author. In his short writing career, he had already managed to bag five bestselling books that stayed number one for more than five months, two were made into a movie and one was made into a highly-successful television show.
Despite all his success, Lucas was very down-to-earth. He was the more subdued brother and there were no negative news about him – except when it concerned his brother, because he just so happened to be Nathan's manager as well.
Nathan was completely different. He was a very successful basketball player in the LA Lakers, having leaded them to two championships in his young career. Unlike Lucas, Nathan let the success get to his head.
He was notorious for being a Hollywood bad boy – he went partying every night, he was always in trouble with his basketball coach; he was always involved in some sort of scandal; whether it was sleeping with some guy's wife or beating up a random guy in a bar. He changed his "girlfriends" as often as he changed his underwear and sometimes, no one could really blame him.
Nathan Scott was the hottest guy to ever walk on the red carpet. Whenever there was a list of "Sexiest People…" or whatnot, he was always on top. And he wasn't going to lose that title any time soon – not even to his brother, who also happened to be equally as good-looking as him, just in a more brooding sense.
"I don't understand why you had to drag me here." Lucas complained.
"I had to save you from that laptop of yours – I swear, that thing must be possessing you or something. Writing is all you ever do." Nathan said.
"Writing is all what I ever do – aside from being your goddamned nanny. Do you know how hard it is to come up with an excuse for all the shit you've been doing?" Lucas asked angrily.
"Hey, it's not my fault the guy was jealous that all those girls couldn't resist me!" Nathan said defensively.
"You were drunk and for some stupid reason, you punched the poor guy." Lucas pointed out.
"He wasn't that injured!"
"Nate, the guy was probably forty years old! His toupee was practically on the other side of the bar when you punched him!"
"Oh, quit sounding like mom. I've heard enough of her nagging to last me a lifetime. Besides, we are here to get so drunk that when we wake up in the morning, we don't even know whose bed we're on and how the hell we got there." Nathan said gleefully.
"Sounds exciting," his brother said sarcastically.
"Wow, look at all these hot girls – I bet you a thousand dollars that I can get ten girls' numbers under twenty minutes."
Lucas made a disgusted face. "Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather not participate in your lifelong quest to have a venereal disease ten girls at a time."
Nathan shrugged. "Suit yourself – all the more for me."
He then spotted a gorgeous girl seated on the bar, sipping champagne. God, she was breathtaking. She had long, blond hair that fell over her shoulders in waves and she had the hottest figure – judging from the way the tiny black dress she was wearing clung to all the right places. She glanced past him with the most amazing hazel eyes he had ever seen.
How the hell could she see past me? Nathan wondered indignantly.
She was . . . she was . . .
"Nathan? Nathan? Are you still there? You're drooling and it wouldn't look so good on the cover of People magazine." Lucas warned, snapping him back to reality.
"I – I'll be right back, Luke…" He walked over to her and tapped her on the shoulder.
When she turned to face him, he flashed her the trademark Scott smirk and judging the way lust suddenly clouded her eyes, he knew she was in the bag tonight.
Please leave me a review so I know if I should still push through with this story. Thank you! -----Sera