Title: The Dancer Girl
Summary: Sharpay Evans reflects on her status
Pairings: Non
A/N: Sharpay is one of my least favourite characters, but every person has another side, so I had to do it for Sharpay.
The Dancer Girl
Sharpay always wanted to be a dancer. Ever since she had owned a Princess Ballerina Barbie at the tender age of five, and her father had retrieved some rare photographs of Anna Pavolva for her bedroom wall, which at that particular time had been hot pink, with professional stencils of unicorns, mermaids and nymphs in bright shades of sea green, turquoise and glittering lavender.
She had attended ballet classes a few weeks after admiring the photos for several days, and with her spotless light pink tutu and ballet shoes (her copy of the book of the same name was still in her small stack of books beside her bed), she was the richest of the girls there, and she rubbed it in smugly.
But she had always known, even at that tender young age, that she didn't really want to be a dancer, because she just wanted to be in the spotlight for once, instead of being pushed to the back behind her father, or her mother, or her adorable baby brother whose cooing and gurgling received the sort of reaction usually given to the families of first-time Academy Award nominees who have won the award hands-down.
So she danced and pranced, pirouetting around the stage, and people who came the performances applauded the pretty girl with blonde hair, whose parents couldn't make it to the show because her father was busy securing some Middle Eastern oil deal and her mother was busy having her nails done or her chin stuffed with Botox, like crabmeat filling in an avocado salad.
Sharpay had just wanted attention, so as she grew up and became the centre of attention, like she wanted, but she was so far in her own little orbit, making sure who ever entered the invisible circle of the tenth planet, Planet Evans, was obedient to her, that she never had any real friends; real friends, who actually laughed at her jokes and didn't just feign laughter; friends who promised that when Sharpay's eighth grade boyfriend broke up with her, they would be around the mansion in a heartbeat, with popcorn and tissues and comfort by the bucketful.
So, she ruled the roost of home and school, up until her kind of downfall at the hands of a skinny science geek and the guy she'd always thought she would be great with; popular, handsome, rich. But she knew it wasn't really a relationship, it was a sham, like Mom and Dad's, and in her heart she didn't want to be a trophy wife.
She had always wanted to be a princess, and that's what she was, sitting on a throne made of bitchy comments and ice (as she heard one smart-assed comment by Chad suggested). She had always loved princesses, because they were always beautiful and they always ended up with the guy of their dreams.
Sharpay Evans wasn't a dancer. She was a princess.
Fin