Disclaimer- I do not own them.

Rating- pg-13 right now.

A/n- This is just an idea. This is just the first part. If I don't get comments it'll be a stand alone, but if someone enjoys this I'll update. This stands in its own time frame, in its own one tree hill. This is pretty much my messed up twisted incite the show we all know and love. Pretty much nothing that happened in the show happened(s) in my story. Like I said, it's its own OTH. If you need elaboration I will, but that's it for now.

We are the four.

We are domination. We are beautiful, we are smart, we are untouchable. We are the girls, we are the wanted, we are the needed. We keep everything flowing, we own the scene, we are one; we are Brooke, we are Peyton, we are Haley, we are Bevin. We are not one without the other; we are everything, we are all.

We are mean. We hurt. We point and mock. We cause tears and break downs. We make sure the rumors keep flowing. We attack anything and everything to get a laugh out of it. We are BrookeBevinHaleyPeyton. In alphabetical order. Our lives are one, always has been for as long as I can remember. We are one sitting at first table at the far left underneath the window by the Snapple machine.

The four are indivisible. We don't walk alone, we don't sit alone, we don't eat alone. We do not separate. We are never one without the other. When Peyton walks across the street after fifth period to smoke in front of the bakery Haley goes with her. When I have dance class every Monday and Wednesday Peyton sits in while Bevin and Haley keep the car running in parking lot. When Haley does tutoring every second weekend Bevin sits on a stool near Haley and reads until she's done. Peyton refuses to shop at the record store on third if Bevin and Haley aren't there to vote on her newest buy.

Lunch means everything. If the new girl walks by our table in an electric blue mini and holy-crap-what-was-she-thinking lime green platforms, and just happens to fall. We laugh. As does everyone else. If that circle of kids by the garbage can looks over at our table and the boy with the blondeblonde hair and ratty t shirt with a mechanics logo on the front looks at me, I look at my lap.

I know him. His name is Lucas. He loves me. He is not one.