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She holds a breath as she watches the actors film the scene.
It was that moment at Peyton’s porch, right after Keith’s funeral. The first time Brooke had gone to see how she was doing, having been shot and all.
She remembers she felt so confused. Like she should have been there for Peyton, but at the same time, like she didn’t belong beside her. She remembers feeling so scared as she approached her house and saw her sitting there. Like she had been waiting for her the whole time.
Do you still feel younger than you thought you would by now? Or darling, have you started feeling old yet? Don't worry, I'm sure that you're still breaking hearts with the efficiency that only youth can harness…
She remembers, but when the actress who is playing her says the words the girl I love, she feels a tear run down her cheek before she can stop it. They’re lovely and everything is tasteful and she trusts Julian. The actress playing Peyton puts both her hands on the actress playing her. She says he’s insanely in love with you, and you know what - so am I!
Brooke knows it by heart, because she’d repeated it to herself the whole way up Peyton’s bedroom till the next morning, when she finally got her hands on her diary and could write it down.
She had a home then.
She had a boyfriend she loved, and who loved her. She had, in a way, this platonic girlfriend she loved, and who loved her. Everything was fine for the first time in her life.
She could never forget the tug on her chest as she heard Peyton say those words. As she thinks about it, the scene is cut, and Julian looks at her with inquisitorial eyes. She nods approvingly.
“Just like I remember.”
But it wasn’t, exactly. Because that actress didn’t have Peyton’s huge twinkling, sparkling eyes on hers. Because it was not really almost midnight. Because that wasn’t Peyton’s real porch, and she hadn’t talked to Peyton in years, and she missed her like a crazy person, but Peyton had abandoned her for good. And Brooke had to accept it.
“Brooke?” Julian calls her name in a low voice, handing her a bottle of water. “Honey, is there something you wanna talk about?”
“No. No. I’m okay.”
“Brooke. Was there something romantic between the two of you?” He asks her softly. He doesn’t seem mad, and it makes Brooke close her eyes forcefully to try and stop more tears from coming out.
She shakes her head.
“Of course not.” She mumbles, but her eyes don’t meet his. “I just miss her.”
He nods at that, and she says she’ll go get the twins from Haley’s, and kisses him goodbye.
She cries in the car. She cries on Haley’s lap. She cries on the way home. She can’t understand why Peyton left her after everything. She can’t understand why it hurts so bad, still, to think of that night. She wishes she didn’t feel that stupid spark of hope.
And do you still think love is a laserquest, or do you take it all more seriously? I've tried to ask you this in some daydreams that I've had but you're always busy being make-believe. And do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you're there? Or have somebody's goodnight kisses got that covered? When I'm not being honest, I pretend that you were just some lover…
Two days later, Julian calls her from the couch, his laptop on his lap. She gets closer and sits beside him, the babies asleep in the next room. He holds her hand, tightly, and looks into her eyes with kindness and love and she can’t really not smile at that. He’s the nicest person she knows.
“Look. I did something. I know you said there was nothing going on between you and Peyton, but I want you to know that I’m okay with it. In a non-creepy way, I mean. When people have this sort of connection the two of you have, perhaps it’s not possible to just be platonic.” He says. Brooke opens her mouth to argue, but he holds a hand up and completes, “Just watch it. If you don’t like it, I’ll choose another song.”
And then he presses play, and it’s that scene, and Love Is a Laserquest by the Arctic Monkeys starts playing on the background, and Brooke feels a whirlwind of feelings, and her eyes get well with tears, and she misses her best friend, and she wishes she was there, and she aches for her touch, and she knows in her heart that it is okay for her to love both of them at the same time, because she knows she would never do anything to hurt Julian, but she can’t deny her feelings for Peyton anymore. Because she’d denied it for so long that it cost her Peyton herself.
And these feelings, evergreen as always, are all that is left of her in Brooke’s life.
So she squeezes Julian’s hand, tears streaming down her face, and nods at him.
“Thank you,” she whispers, hugging him tight, crying into his chest. He hugs her back.
“I love you, Brooke. The real you. You don’t have to hide from me.”
When I'm pipe and slippers and rocking chair, singing dreadful songs about summer, will I have found a better method of pretending you were just some lover?, she hums as she rocks baby Jude later that night. But she knows the answer already.
This is a beautiful life, with a good man, with lovely children. But she knows the answer.