Author's Note: What, another story? I know. I'm a scatterbrain. I have too many stories and ideas on the go and I don't update regularly. I suck as a writer because I write when inspired and then become distracted by the various events transpiring in my life. FORGIVE ME! But this one couldn't go unpublished. It couldn't be left alone. Mostly because I loved it when I started it and because I've been struck with writer's block for my other fics. Life is cruel.

So where did it come from? I started this fic with an ex-friend a while back. We obviously had a falling out and it never came to fruition. Cest la Vie. Except what I wrote I was proud of. So I have taken all MY WORDS (deleted all of her input) and voila – a new fic is born. The story will change from the original idea (although most of the ideas we had did come from my head anyway) and I will change the couples because honestly I wasn't a fan of what she liked and she wasn't a fan of what I liked.

Anyway, here it is. It's strange, alternate and as always – BL-driven.

Enjoy.

x~X~x~X~x

Chapter 1: Worlds Collide

The white house on the corner of Fairview Drive stood lonely on the small mound of land. Even with the warming rays of the setting afternoon sun, the abode expressed a certain shadow and coldness that one could not escape. It was easily the nicest house on the street, certainly a shot above most of the houses in the area, but it was still somehow vacant even with its one resident. Although he lived alone now, it was once home to a single-parent mother who worked so hard it was living like ships in the night. But even then it felt warm, loved and lived-in.

Lucas Scott hadn't experienced that feeling since his mother left to go sail the world with her new husband, Andy.

The front door creaked open, growling in agony as a tall blonde pushed his way through it half-heartedly. Truth was he wasn't in any mood to be working tonight. He felt like a royal dick, adorned in black and white, ready to serve. Like someone's bitch boy. Penguin was the last delightful name he encountered. But he had no choice. Derek was his best friend and he needed him. Lucas might have said no if they were in the same position financially, but they weren't. Karen may have left but at least the house was paid off. Lucas could take the odd job around town and focus on his writing during the day. He could afford that kind of lax lifestyle, that luxury. Derek struggled to make rent and he was too proud to accept Lucas' offer of free board. So even if working a shitty job of waiting tables and serving food for arrogant sons-of-bitches at posh parties around Tree Hill meant making ends meet, Derek was down for it. He had been the most determined person Lucas had ever known since the day they met two years ago.

Determined in every single way. Even with the ladies.

"Hey asshole," a heavy chuckle broke through Lucas' thoughts, the writer glancing up to see Derek sprawled across the front seat of his old drop-top. Honestly the car as a pile of old-school crap, but it was his best friend's pride and joy. A large set of white teeth pushed through a goofy grin, tanned skin resonating in the falling sun as a half-dressed Derek threw his hand in the air to beckon Lucas to the car.

"Hurry up fucker, we're late!"

They were always late and it was never Lucas' fault. Derek was the type of guy who did things on the spur of the moment, floated on a sea of whims. He could be happy playing cards in an old folks home one day then go for a three-day bender down in Miami the next. He lived loosely; carefree - uninhibited. It was a far cry from the relaxed, sensible and downright heavily-planned actions of Lucas. How they were best friends was anybody's guess. Pulling himself up from the steps of his front porch, Lucas made his way to the car and slid into the passenger side, his best friend punching him in the shoulder as a greeting.

"Buckle up, princess."

Lucas did as instructed, knowing full well that Derek's words meant they were going to turn a fifteen minute drive into a three minute one. Sure enough the car engine roared to life and skids marks graced the hard road, Lucas silently cursing his friend for giving his neighbour Mr Andrews another reason to bitch and moan at him.

"So where are we tonight?" he asked, turning to face a bouncing Derek. Even driving at fifty miles an hour, the crazy fucker could still bounce to the Ministry CD he'd place in his crappy Mp3 player. Derek grinned and turned to give his friend a quick glance, Lucas internally wishing that he would actually just keep his eyes on the road.

"Some rich bitch is having a party for her new business," came the satisfied reply, Lucas knowing all too well what it meant. Women. Rich women. Derek and rich women equalled one happy chappy. "I scored this gig at the last minute cos Adam fell ill. Well technically he's hung over but-"

"So that's what you were up to last night?" Lucas raised his brow, knowing Derek all too well. He'd call him twice and still received no answer. Or text back. That was Derek though. "You were out getting fucked up?"

"I was out getting Adam fucked up," Derek conceded, swerving around a left turn like he was in a go-kart. Lucas reached out for the dashboard, the move making Derek smile. Dickhead. "I needed the cash and he needed to get hammered."

"Whatever," Lucas sighed, Derek's motives irrelevant at this point. He knew his friend was struggling. "How long is this one going to take?"

"'til midnight or so," came the nonchalant reply, the hour early for Derek on most nights. "I gave Becky an incentive to clean up for us so-"

"I don't even wanna know," Lucas held up his hand and shook his head, not wanting to know how Derek managed to get his single, overweight boss to cut him from cleaning duties. "Just thank you in advance, okay?"

"Sure thing," Derek smiled, sending Lucas a wink. Suddenly his eyes were drawn away from his friend and overcome with surprise. "Oh shit, there it is!"

Slamming the car to a screaming stop, Lucas barely had time to collect his thoughts before his hand shot out and prepared himself for impact. Derek grabbed onto the back of his shirt to stop his friend from falling forward, his eyes never leaving the building before him. Lucas scowled but followed his friend's gaze, his own eyes widening at the mansion that towered before them.

"Whose party is this again?" Lucas whispered, his side door creaking as he pulled on the handle. The wind felt fresher here, like somehow the house carried an outside purifying system.

"Ahhhh," Derek replied, skinny hands diving into his pants pocket and pulling out a crumbled piece of paper. "Brooke Davis. Apparently she just moved here from the big apple. Some hotshot interior decorator or some crap."

"Derek! You're not even half-dressed!"

Becky's voice drowned out across the tiny car park, the blonde sending her a large grin that made her cheeks flush with pink. God, it was sickening. Lucas stuck two fingers in his mouth and pretended to puke, Derek sending him a quick middle finger in response.

"Fuck off, dude," he laughed, reaching into his back seat and grabbing his jacket. "Come on, we've got drinks to serve."

Derek practically bounced up the pathway when he noticed the short dresses of the party-goers, none of which were off the rack. Lucas lowered his head and avoided all eye-contact. These were clearly not his sort of people and probably thought as little of him as he did of them. Derek on the other hand seemed un-phased by their looks, his charm affording him slight arrogance when it came to women.

He did have a knack for taking one home at the end of each night.

"Hi, welcome," came a sweet-sounding voice from the right. The boys looked up at the words, soft eyes looking at them as a honey-haired girl gave them a look. "Are you looking for the workers station?"

Her voice was innocent, her face kind. She pushed forth a smile and immediately Lucas liked her. Not many people at these gigs gave him the time of day let alone spoke civilly.

"Sure are, darlin'," Derek smiled, Lucas rolling his eyes at his friend's obvious flirtation. "Think you can help us with that?" He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, her skin warm to the touch in spite of the chill in the air. She turned and gave him a look, her smile widening further as she gazed at him.

Perhaps she was just like the others. A sucker for Derek's charm. Lucas decided didn't like her anymore.

"Let's see," she cooed, looking Derek up and down and biting her lower lip. Oh god, Lucas was going to have to be subjected to this already and the night had only just started. "I would be absolutely down for helping you out if you do one thing for me in return?"

Derek licked his lips and Lucas closed his eyes, absolutely sure he could hear himself screaming on the inside.

"Anything sweetness," southern tones hit the air, Derek leaning in closer to the young woman. Lucas was going to vomit from the cheesiness of his tone. Any moment now he was going to be blowing chunks.

"Get your goddamn arm off me and let me do my job, okay? The server's quarters are back that way!"

Whoa! Lucas opened his eyes quickly and gave her smile. Impressive. It was somewhat satisfying to watch Derek's reaction too, a slight rouge coming to his cheeks as he slid his arm off from round the girl's shoulders. She pointed behind her to a slightly guarded back door, Lucas sending her a smile of appreciation as Derek avoided her gaze.

"Thanks," Lucas nodded his head, a hand reaching out apologetically. "He's Derek and he means no harm. I'm Lucas and I thank you for sending us in the right direction."

"I'm Haley," she smiled back, taking his hand and giving it a good shake. "And you're welcome."

Lucas was back to liking her again.

Shoving Derek in the back, Lucas pushed his friend towards the door, a guard checking their IDs before they wandered into a very busy kitchen area. A loud hum erupted from the room, people darting back and forth barking orders at one another. Lucas had never seen anything like it. It was like they were all on edge, the atmosphere intense to say the least.

Must have been a damn important party.

They wandered into the kitchen, about to take their trays when an unwelcomed interruption stopped them.

"Derek," came a sultry voice from behind, Lucas turning as his best friend closed his eyes in fear. The writer could hear Derek swallow hard, his brain no doubt working overtime to think of a way to get out of this one. Pulling at his shirt, Lucas whirled the Casanova around to deal with it head on.

"Shelly," Derek smiled, his voice strained as he tried his best to act happy to see her. "What's up girl?"

"You tell me," she smiled, a finger extending outwards and landing on his suit. She dragged it down his chest slowly, the move enough to make even Lucas' stomach turn. "I haven't heard from you for a whole week. I was starting to get worried."

Another thick gulp cascaded down Derek's throat, so loud Lucas was sure the guests in the next room could hear. Derek laughed uneasily, the strain evident. He was stuck, unable to proceed. Lost for words. Turning towards his best friend, Lucas rolled his eyes when he got the "Help!" look from Derek. There were only so many times he was willing to get bitch-slapped for the guy. He wasn't a fan of being the bearer of bad news, especially not to psycho-stalker girls who couldn't seem to take a hint. He sighed and Derek relaxed, knowing Lucas was able to save his ass.

Again.

"Look Shelly," the blonde breathed, giving her his usual sympathetic gaze. "Derek hasn't called because he can't call you. Not after everything that's happened. It just wouldn't be fair."

"Fair?" she blinked in confusion, eyes darting between the boy talking to her and Derek. "What do you mean?"

Lucas cleared his throat, his jawline becoming more defined as he forced his most serious expression onto his face. He tilted his head to the side, sympathy dripping from his eyes as he held himself in place. He could feel Derek buzzing eagerly beside him, clearly in a hurry to get to work and as far away from waitress Shelly as possible.

"Well see, Derek is a nice guy," Lucas began, his friend shaking his head to support the claim. "But even nice guys can make foolish decisions. Decisions that affect the people they would consider being with. Do you see what I'm saying?"

It was clear the blonde had no idea. Big eyes gazed back at him, blinking animatedly as she absorbed the words of her lover's best friend. Lucas sighed, seeing this was going to be harder than he though. He dropped his voice, glancing around at the people close by, Shelly surprised that he was trying to keep the conversation so hush-hush. She leaned in herself, feeling more important than she should.

"Shelly, can I ask a personal question? It'll go a long way to helping Derek."

His friend gave him a quizzical look but the writer shooed him away, determined to put an end to this mess once and for all. Shelly nodded her head eagerly, happy to be a part of the conversation.

"Yes Lucas, please do. I mean, if it'll help Derek!"

"Okay," a deep breath expelled from his lips, the gush of air escaping from deep within his chest. "Well then… do you ah… do you have a burning sensation when you pee?"

Golden tresses flickered back as the words hit the girl, shock resonating across her features. A cough got caught in her throat, the surprise from such a question clearly evident in her facial expression. Even Derek let out a gasp, not sure he liked where his best friend was going with this.

"I most certainly do not!" Indignant, Shelly took a step backwards, her eyes now scanning the people around them making sure they didn't hear a thing. "Why the hell would you ask such a question? Has he got crabs or something?"

Crabs? Lucas thought, reminding himself not to roll his eyes at the girl before him. Yes Shelly, when you have a burning sensation whilst urinating you must have pubic lice!

"No," the blonde sighed, stepping closer to bridge the gap that Shelly had created between him. "But let's just say that someone gave him an early Christmas present and his little john ain't happy about it! Sexually transmitted infections are not to be taken lightly-"

"What?" Derek cried from beside his friend, a few pairs of eyes turning on the kitchen to look at the noise. He pulled at his collar, suddenly feeling very hot in the small, confined space. Lucas ignored him, knowing there was really only one way to deal with a stage three clinger like Shelly.

"Now if you could just give us an indication of how many sexual partners you have had in the last month or so-"

Whack! A tiny hand reached out and hit Lucas square on the cheek, laughter erupting from behind him as Shelly glared and then slinked away. She naturally took every precaution not to touch Derek on her way out. Lucas rubbed at his swollen skin, internally telling himself that the next time his friend screwed the wrong girl he would not be coming to his defence.

"Seriously dude?" Derek whined, shaking his head and looking at his best friend with eyes of total exasperation. "An STI? For real?"

"Put a rubber on it next time," Lucas chided him, smiling slightly to demonstrate that in spite of the soreness he would probably have the entire following day he had definitely enjoyed putting his friend in it. Derek gave him an appreciative nod, finding the humour in the situation and thinking his friend was rather clever when he thought about it. He reached out and grabbed a tray of champagne from the table, nodding for Lucas to do the same. The brooding writer begrudgingly obliged, the pair whisking the contents out of the kitchen and into the main party area.

The place was buzzing with people. Baby blues darted throughout the crowd, offering small smiles and plenty of drinks. The party-goers barely acknowledged him and he didn't mind seeming invisible. In Lucas' mind the less people who spoke to him the shorter his night appeared. In the end, he always found that option better.

Not like they belonged in each other's worlds anyway.

"Holy fucking shit!"

Lucas turned at the awed voice of his best friend, Derek sidling up to him with an empty tray. His eyes were alight with interest, Lucas knowing the look all too well. His best friend had found himself his latest conquest and was currently in the throes of scoping her out.

"Derek-"

"Look at her," the energetic blonde spoke, his eyes not having moved on millimetre from the girl before him. She climbed the mock-stage in trepidation, fiery locks falling loosely over her tiny frame. A buxom chest heaved under the strain of her diamond-studded, figure-hugging cocktail dress and she flicked a tiny wrist out towards the microphone, rouge red fingernails traipsing over the metal instrument.

Lucas had never seen his best friend look at a girl this way before. Entranced. Enthralled.

"Derek-"

"Take this," the blonde replied, completely oblivious to Lucas' words. He handed the writer the empty tray, picking up his friend's half-filled one instead. "I'm going to go circulate… near the stage!" A goofy grin escaped Derek's lips and then he was off, a man on a mission. Lucas sighed, the empty tray falling to his side as he looked back in the direction from where he came. Bodies swarmed around him like bees in a hive and it was then that he realised he had no idea which way was the way back? Muttering under his breath, he cut through the crowd and made his way towards a familiar oak door, his hand touching the cold metal of the silver doorknob as he twisted the door open and made his way inside.

Shit, wrong room!

She stood against the table, sniffles escaping her lips as she used the surface to prop herself upright. A delicate ivory hand dabbed beneath her eyes, a shocked gasp escaping her lips as she turned towards him, his unexpected entrance a lot noisier than he realised.

He would kick Derek's ass the next time he saw him. Seriously kick it!

"Sorry, I was just adding the finishing touches." She held out the mascara in her hand, like it was some sort of visual explanation. "Can I help you?"

"Uh," the young man replied, stunned by what he walked in on. He wasn't sure if he should call her out on her crappy lie or if he should remain silent. Truth was he had no idea who she was and he had no right to get in her business. Reaching into his waiter's jacket, Lucas pulled out a white cloth and walked forward, offering it.

"Thank you." Wary tones hit the air between them as the stunningly beautiful woman accepted his gesture. It made him more curious than ever when she tilted her head to the side and examined him. Her eyes were the brightest green he had ever seen, no doubt illuminated from her obvious tears, but it was the way she was looking at him that really did his head in. She was obviously from the elite side of the river but yet he could tell that she was intrigued by him.

Probably unsure why a oaf from the wrong side of the river was actually behaving like a gentleman?

"Does it look like everyone is having a good time out there?" her words were as sweet as honey, her voice alluring. Lucas was unsure why, but she made him feel at ease.

"To be honest ma'am, I'm not really paying attention to them," Lucas half-smiled, his cheeks warming a little at his confession. "They pay me no mind so working a gig like this becomes a blur of nameless aces and glasses of champagne." He placed the empty drinks tray behind his back, feeling like he should keep his professionalism in tact in front of someone like her.

"Does it matter if they're bored?"

"Tonight it does." She sighed deeply, her green eyes filling to the brim with her obvious un-ease. Lucas wondered if perhaps his presence was the cause, but he sensed not. It was more than that.

"If I don't make the correct impression then my business will suffer and this whole mess would have been for nothing."

This whole mess… God fucking damn it, it's her party! Nice job, loser.

"Nobody's perfect," Lucas continued, trying his best to try and make a bad situation slightly better. He'd royally stepped in it with this woman and he couldn't have been more embarrassed. Perhaps it was payback for giving his best friend an STI – metaphorically speaking. "And why would you want to be? Business is fundamentally about ethics. Without those, you are nothing. If people see that you have ethics and that you commit yourself in the most honourable of ways, then the rest doesn't matter. They will come to you and so will success." Lucas reached out and placed a hand over hers, emerald orbs glancing at him in confusion as he did so.

"I honestly believe that."

Emerald orbs fell down to the hand upon her own, its warmth the most comforting feeling she had experienced in months. It took her by surprise that this stranger who didn't know her from a bar of soap was somehow able to look at the world – her insanely unrealistic world – and make everything seem less dire than it actually was.

Who was this man?

"Perhaps if you walked a day in my shoes you would be able to fix all the problems I seem to be facing?"

Lucas gazed down towards her strappy heels, tilting his head to the side as if he were contemplating something. She watched him curiously, his baby blues bouncing up and hitting her again as he smiled, shaking his head.

"No can do ma'am, I take a size eleven and those are far too small."

She giggled then, a small squeal that melted the last drops of ice that hung in the air. Her charming laughter was infectious, bringing to the brooding waiter's lips his first smile of the night.

"Brooke Davis," she greeted him, a tiny hand extending towards him as flaxen lashes battered over the eyes he now couldn't erase from his memory.

"Lucas Scott," he answered her, accepting her hand and shaking it gently. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You say that now," her eyes grew wider, a slight hint of the cheeky about them. "We'll see how long that lasts."

"Game on, Brooke Davis," Lucas countered her, a slight thrill prickling at her skin as his seductive tones hit her ears.

"For such a confident man, it seems entirely surreal that you are at my party serving finger food and champagne."

"I'm helping out a friend," Lucas replied casually, like it was the most natural answer one could give. "I'm nice like that." He sent her a small smile, eyes sparkling somewhat. Dude… what are you doing? He cleared his throat when she looked at him, slightly embarrassed.

She was way out of his league.

"Rouge suits you," Brooke smiled, a delicate finger reaching out and lightly tapping on his flushed cheek.

"Blushing just means you're wearing on the outside what you're feeling on the inside," Lucas whispered back, the two locking eyes on each other. He could smell her perfume now, a delicious berry mixture that hit his senses with delight. His eyes fell on her luscious lips, Lucas unable to stop his mind from wondering about them. How soft they were, what they felt like. His own lips parted to speak but were silenced by the opening of the oak door, a tall figure entering the room and looking upon them in confusion.

"Brooke? Where have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere?"

His tone was soothing at first and then his eyes landed on Lucas, the waiter far too close for his liking. His arms folded over his chest and beady eyes narrowed in, his soothing nature now replaced by one infinitely more intimidating.

"And who the hell are you?"

Brooke swallowed hard and shifted her entire body, Lucas noticing the change in her demeanour instantly. He watched as the new gentleman entered the room and stood by her side, clearly waiting for the answer to his question. Lucas glanced between them both before edging away from the brunette and shuffling on the spot. He held out his hand, offering it as a sign of peace.

"I'm Lucas. Lucas Scott."

"I don't care," Julian fired back, looking down at the boy's hand with disdain. "You're not paid to chat to my fiancé - you're paid to go wait on her guests. So go do your job!"

"Julian!" Horrified, the fashionista scolded her future husband. "I decide who I can and cannot speak to…"

"If you'll excuse me," Lucas bowed before making a quick exit, humiliation and anger painted all over his face. Brooke's anger fuelled again but it was of no use, the young man with the wisdom her therapist sorely needed was out the door before she could even stop him. She watched as Julian's eyes trailed the young blonde's exit before he sighed and turned to face her. Placing his hands on either side of her face, Julian pulled her lips to his own and spoke calmly.

"Baby, I know you like to think the best of everyone but that boy came here with riff-raff. He's not on your level and if you're going to make an impression on these people tonight the last thing you need to be doing is associating yourself with a resident from the wrong side of the tracks."

His hand snaked down and wrapped itself around her fingers, pulling her forward. Her diamond ring sparkled, the asset causing his smile to return.

"Now come on darling, you have guests to attend to."

Relenting, the brunette fashion queen allowed herself to be pulled into the pretentious crowd. She mixed with strangers, smiled at their humourless jokes and offered them plenty of food and drink. The night was going to be a success and in the morning her father would be pleased but for the time being all Brooke could think about was the baby blue eyes of the lone waiter who dried the tears of a stranger…

… and whether she was ever going to see him again.

x~X~x~X~x

So there it is.

You know the drill.

Reviews are loved and appreciated

Chrissy

xox