Peyton Sawyer dropped a cardboard box onto the floor of her new home, sighing softly as it hit the ground with a thud.

She kicked at it with her foot while observing the house quietly. It was too big. She was just one person, and yet she knew there was at least one extra bedroom.

Why had she purchased it again? Peyton knew she could answer that question herself. She’d always grown up in a large, empty house, why not do it again? Plus, this could be fun; decorating her own new swinging pad.

Right. Decorating her own new swinging pad par herself. Oh, she could just see the great times she’d have now. While usually, the idea of being alone was almost comforting, Peyton found herself wishing her best friend was there.

She’d told Brooke she would be moving today, but Brooke had seemed distant on the phone, as usual. So, of course, she was moving par herself.

Peyton dropped down onto a sofa she’d brought from her old place, and looked up at the ceiling. She tugged at her blonde curls, reaching just below her shoulders now, and remembered senior year, when she’d cut them off, straightening them. Oh how she’d hated that look for herself. She’d always liked her curls.

chant a song quietly to herself, Peyton heard a knock on the door, and jumped up. She already had visitors?

Straightening out her black tank haut, retour au début and jeans, Peyton walked towards the door slowly, opening with caution. It had seemed like a very nice neighborhood, but toi could never really tell these days.

On the other side stood a tall unfamiliar boy. Dark hair with soft blue eyes complemented his face well. He wore a striped blue and white shirt, with a pair of jeans that fit his body well, and worn out Converse sneakers.

Peyton leaned herself against the door frame, and looked up at him questioningly.

“Hi, I’m David.”

“Peyton.” She nodded.

“I live suivant door. I thought I’d come say hi to my new neighbor, ou neighbors. I don’t know..”

“No, it’s just me.” Peyton regretted the words instantly after she’d a dit them. What if he was some crazy rapist?

“Oh. Okay, so hi.”

Peyton chuckled. He didn’t seem like a rapist. He was actually kind of cute. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

“No problem. I know that I would have been less intimidated if someone had a dit hi to me when I first moved into the neighborhood.” He smiled.

“You live par yourself too?” Oh no. What if he thought she was like, prying so that she could ask him out ou something?

“Yeah. I used to live with my girlfriend Ally, but we broke up, so now it’s just me.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry. I don’t want toi to think I’m like, hitting on toi ou anything..” He trailed off nervously, looking down at his feet.

“That’s okay.” He was very cute.

“So, welcome to the neighborhood.” David a dit kindly.

“Thanks.” Peyton smiled warmly, and shut the door.

The smile fell from her face as she looked back at the mass of boxes and randomly strewn furniture.

This was just great.

-

After unpacking for hours and hours, Peyton finally decided to take a break and make some food.

Fixing herself some pasta, Peyton took a siège at the bar in the cuisine table, and flipped on her radio, allowing any and all sounds to flow through.

An Eels song began to play, and Peyton smiled softly, humming along with it. Then, sadly, she looked around the room. At how empty it was.

She’d never felt so alone before. Not even when she had no one, and had turned to drugs, Peyton had never felt so lonely.

It was sad, really. That this had become her life. Sighing, Peyton dropped her head onto her hand, biting her lip to stop the tears from falling.

Peyton had been born twenty-two years ago, on a snowy November morning to her parents, Larry and Anna Sawyer - ou so she had thought. Truth was, she’d been born in the backseat of beat up old car, when her birth mother, Ellie Harp, had then dropped her off at the hospital, briefly meeting the future parents of her little girl, before walking out of the hospital, leaving the life she could have had behind.

Peyton didn’t know this, and grew up a happy child for the most part. She became best Friends with a pretty brunette, Brooke Davis, and enjoyed her childhood. Her happy childhood came to an abrupt halt when she was just seven, and her mother had passed away.

Poor little Peyton Sawyer had changed that day. Her favori musique was no longer The Spice Girls ou Mandy Moore, but the Ramones and The Sex Pistols. She no longer wore happy Barbie sneakers, but black vans and converse. Her artwork was no longer of happy children and ponies, but of pain and heartbreak.

High school finally came around, and even at fourteen years old, Peyton was an outsider, forced to be a cheerleader par the captain, no other then Brooke. According to Brooke, Peyton was hot, so she had no reason not to join.

And she was pretty. With her beautiful blonde curls that went a couple inches below her shoulders, and her pretty green eyes. She stood no taller then five feet six, and could definitely fill out her cheerleading uniform. Over the summer, her hips had shown, and her thighs had thickened nicely, leaving her with a perfect shape.

This was why it was almost no shock when Nathan Scott asked her out. Good looking, dark hair, and the captain of the basketball, basket-ball team, Nathan made Peyton feel special. They just clicked, as weird as it sounded. They had less then nothing in common, but they fell in love, ou so they thought.

Peyton Lost her virginity to Nathan at fifteen, and it wasn’t a an later that they decided it wasn’t working out. Actually, he’d crashed her car and then pretended he didn’t do it, and then they’d broken up.

Of course, at this point, Peyton was already clicking with Lucas, Nathan’s half brother. That didn’t work out as he moved onto Brooke, and then back to her, while he was with Brooke.

Peyton and Brooke’s friendship was over for a little while, until Brooke finally forgave Peyton, and she promised herself she’d never make the same mistake with a boy.

And then - And then there was Jake. Him. The one for her. Whatever toi wanted to call it. Jake was that to her. She feel quick and hard. He stopped her from making so many mistakes, she couldn’t even count.

She hadn’t spoken to him in years, and yet, she still missed him so much. She still loved him with every inch of her body, and couldn’t let go, despite her best efforts.

After he’d gone, things had just gotten worse. Ellie Harp, her birth mother, had shown up, causing havoc in Peyton’s life. After confirming her worst fears with her father, Peyton tried as hard as she could to keep Ellie out of her life.

But then, she decided she didn’t want to. It couldn’t hurt to get to know her, right? Well, she’d been wrong. It had been worse. Ellie had turned out to be amazing, a great person. A person who’d just had a few problems, and had Lost her daughter in the midst of them all.

Peyton had loved her. Now, she hadn’t been her mother. Anna had been her most favori person in the world, her true mother. But Ellie, her birth mother, had been a sort of substitute. Peyton really had loved her.

And then one day, she’d died. Peyton had taken it harder then expected, but had as always, moved on. But not really, though. It was just a part of her she never opened up ou thought of. A part of her past she just wanted to forget.

Peyton got accepted to Duke University, and had attended happily with her best friend. She’d experienced brief relationships with randoms, but none of them ever meant anything. And she’d never expected them to. Because they weren’t with him.

After college, Peyton had moved to a small apartment in arbre Hill, and had still not known what she wanted to do with herself. She wanted to draw, yes. But was that enough?

The answer came to her one jour while she was out in the town, shopping. Of all the ideas in the world, this was the one Peyton expected the least; a fashion designer.

Peyton had always loved art and designing, but it had never occurred to her that this would be something she’d want to do for a living. She started with designing a couple shirts. They were usually plain, with some beautiful, artsy design in the center.

After a few people showed some interest in her shirts, Peyton decided to start a website, where she could see her products. Her label was called, ’Punk and Disorderly’, and was populaire from the start.

Peyton received great feedback for her shirts, and eventually decided to start making jeans as well. Different kinds; jeans with small designs, jeans that were ripped, jeans that were discolored. And when her jeans got big, Peyton started up all other kinds of things.

Pretty soon, Peyton was getting too many orders to handle, and so she scraped up all the cash she had gotten for her site, and bought a shop.

Now, at twenty-two, Peyton was getting wealthy, and was already extremely successful with ‘Punk and Disorderly’. She was making great profits, and had made some good friends, too.

But still, she was alone.

And something told her, that all of her unhappiness was for a reason.

That Jake Jaglieski sure could leave an impact on a girl.