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BROOKE WAS STILL INWARDLY CRYING DESPITE HAVING EXHAUSTED HER SUPPLY OF TEARS. She was back to her old work, tearing through her sketchbook until she had to go to another one, glad to have packed two in her bag that day, steeling herself in advance. Her iPod was also a great source of entertainment, blocking out the music from downstairs—it was nice music, she had to give Flash credit for that—and giving her enough to search references if need be.
The party had been well underway for almost an hour when she decided she wanted a snack. Unfortunately, that meant going downstairs and making it back to the comfort of the bathroom before someone decided to sneak in.
She climbed out of the tub, unlocking the door and peering out carefully. There didn't seem to be any people in the upstairs hallway, which was a good sign for her. Hopefully it would stay that way.
Scurrying down the stairs, she made her way to the kitchen, pausing when she caught sight of the food. Bread. Her sister set out bread for snacks for a party. She couldn't help but smile, because of course Liz did, she probably read somewhere that it was healthy or was a good conversation starter, or something to that effect.
She grabbed a bag of chips—it was her party, she could take what she wanted—and paused, glancing towards the secret door that had an electronic padlock. She and Liz found out at an early age that it contained all the alcohol in the house, their parents wanting to make sure that they never drank too much and that the girls never got to it.
Unfortunately for them, both she and Liz knew the passcode, though neither of them were in any real rush to get to it. Liz always feared she would become addicted, something that wasn't too far fetched in their family, and Brooke herself never found any reason to.
But she was filled with teenage angst and frustration fueled rebellion, so she made her way over towards it, pausing when she bumped into a random girl who apologized despite Brooke being the one to bump into her.
"Sorry," she said, same time as the girl, "Um, do you know where Liz is?"
"I think she helped this one girl who knocked over a bowl?" the girl replied, tilting her head, "Yeah, she had liked closed her fist around it, there was blood and everything. They're probably in the bathroom in the hallway? You're her sister, right?"
"Yeah," Brooke breathed, "That's me."
"Aw, well, this is a really nice party, Liz said you helped plan, you did a really good job," she said, giving her one last smile before turning back to the boy she was speaking to, and Brooke paused for a moment, staring at her.
That felt really nice.
But it was clear the girl was engrossed in her conversation, so she let it be, inputting the six-digit passcode and grabbing the first bottle she could reach, closing the door and letting it automatically lock before racing back up the stairs, glancing over to Flash at the DJ station who pointed towards her.
