I know, I'm an idiot.
But I couldn't help it! This idea has been in my head, and if I didn't type it up I was going to go insane. I know, it's pretty dumb to start a new story when I haven't updated my other stories in so long – and I apologize for this. Not only do I have very little time, but I also am experiencing a very long, very frustrating case of writers block.
Which is why I have decided to make this into a little oneshot series, instead a continuous story like my others. I will update when I have time, so please don't pressure me! BUT REVIEWS ARE WANTED. Really. My other stories barely have any, it's quite depressing.
Disclaimer: I do not own the character in this story, nor am I am affiliated with Disney Channel. The only thing that is mine is the story, which I do so hope you will enjoy
She stood on the beach, the wind gently playing with her soft curls. The sun broke through the clouds, giving her skin an angelic glow, adding shimmer to the bronze gown she was wearing. The water from the ocean crept up the shoreline, the cold water just barely touching her heels. Her eyes widened and she gave a little yelp before grinning at the man in front of her, holding a camera.
"That's great, Gabriella. You're gorgeous, babe!" he called to her.
She smiled again, as another flash went off. "Thanks, Javier."
"CUT! Great job, guys, that's a wrap."
Troy sighed in relief, letting the fake gun drop the floor. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he stood from the chair in the faux interrogation room. The lights flickered on and the camera crew bustled about.
Martin, the director, approached Troy. "Good job man, those stunts were great."
Troy nodded in thanks, making a mental note to never attempt his own stunts again. Next time, he would allow the stuntman to actually do his job.
His entire body ached. He wanted to lie down on the cold, concrete floor and sleep for a while.
He wanted to soak himself in a nice, hot bath.
He wanted to stuff himself silly with greasy junk food.
More than anything, though, he wanted her.
He pulled up in his shiny black Mercedes, stopping at the ridiculously large black gates which blocked entry down the ridiculously long driveway which led to the ridiculously large mansion.
He sighed. He had forgotten the damn security code again.
Ridiculous.
He pulled out his cell phone, holding down the number 1 speed dial. It rang only once before she answered. "Are you on your way home, babe?"
He couldn't help but smile at the sound of her voice.
"Actually, I'm right outside…"
She giggled. "And what's stopping you from coming in, babe?" she asked, though she had a pretty good guess.
"Oh, well, I was just admiring these gorgeous black gates. They're really a nice touch, you know."
"I know. But why don't come in and admire the nice touches inside our house?"
Our house . Their house. He smiled to himself. Ours. Theirs.
What nice words.
" Baby…" he whined into the phone.
She sighed. "18390556385."
"Oh, of course. How could I ever forget?" he asked dryly.
She giggled quietly. "Babe. It's been a more than month."
"Yeah, well, not all of us have super genius brains."
"It doesn't take a genius to memorize eleven numbers in thirty days, Troy."
He grumbled a response as he punched in the numbers. The majestic gates swung open to reveal the even more majestic house. Their house.
He parked the car in the driveway and stumbled inside the house. "I'm home, baby!" he called into the depths of the large mansion.
A high pitched squeal echoed throughout the house, getting louder as she neared him. He felt a grin growing on his face.
Suddenly, a small figured slammed into him and he stumbled backwards with the impact, grinning wildly.
"Hey baby," he crooned, winding his arms around her tiny waist.
"Hi yourself," she said, her cheeks flushed as she wound her hands around his neck.
He led them down the hall to sit in the shiny parlor, on the soft sofa. "I missed you," he told her, laying his head on her shoulder. She ran her delicate fingers through his hair.
"Long day?" she asked quietly. He nodded against her shoulder.
"What'd you do today?" he asked her.
"Photo-shoot," she mumbled into his hair.
"Oh? How's Javier doin?" he asked, referring to the photographer, who had grown close to the couple.
"Good… just, upset…he still hasn't found someone."
Troy nodded sympathetically, "that sucks."
Javier was gay.
Living in California wasn't easy for him, and finding a partner was even harder.
But amongst the shiny, plastic people of Hollywood, Javier had found true friends in Troy and Gabriella.
During high school, basketball had been Troy's only passion.
Until his girlfriend had lured him into the world of theater.
The first time he looked in her eyes, he knew he liked her.
The first time he kissed her, he knew he was falling in love.
The first time they made love, he knew he couldn't live without her.
Similarly, the first time he acted onstage, he knew he had found a new home in the world of theater.
And so he had gone on to become one of America's biggest stars. Troy Bolton posters were stuck to walls across the nation, and young teenage girls carried around folders with his face on them.
But he wasn't alone.
Gabriella had always loved the theater, and she too had followed her dream to act. She was likely the most famous starlet in the nation. She and Troy were easily the most famous couple in the country, probably the world, even. They were known as the 'power couple,' throughout Hollywood, and together, they were indestructible.
And they loved it all; the lights, the glamour, the fame.
But in the end, all that mattered was that he came home to her comfort.
That she could fall asleep in the safety of his arms.
That he could rest his head on her shoulder when the pressure of fame became too much.
That she could hold his hand to keep from being swallowed up by the swarms of paparazzi.
In the end, all that mattered was each other.
REVIEW. PLEASE. If I can get fifteen reviews, I can promise another chapter by next Sunday…;)