A/N.
Much Love to anyone reading and also reviewing. It is very important to know what you think, how you feel the characters should be developed, and anything that is inaccurate. Thank you so much for still being as obsessed with the Musical/Zanessa like I am. Now, for those not agreeing with this depiction of Troy know that this is because, in my experience, Troy in HSM is nonexistent. Real life Troy often starts off as this selfish person who realizes he needs to be humbled in order to have the life, job, or woman he desires. Zanessa Love, Peace out!-JA
Prologue.
The building stood in twenty five stories of majestic glory. Patrons walked briskly in and out, continuously through the badge protected entryways. I swiped my temporary pass and walked in, my heart thumping in my ears and sweat gathering on my brow. It was busy inside. The walls of the lobby were stark white giving the impression of a giant hospital room. People in white coats as bright as the walls ran around carrying clipboards and marking checks on pages as they went about their assigned task. Guards stood watch in a glass enclosed room, blocking the three sliding doors labeled "No Entry" behind them. I wondered if the penknife on my key chain was a good idea to carry in a place like this. I stepped up to the clerk sitting beside a burly, scarred face guard who refused to smile or show any other emotion. Aside from the nod towards the pen and sign in sheet placed before her, I was barely acknowledged. I spotted a dimly lit waiting room and walked over to wait. A vending machine blinked to get my attention, but my stomach balked already succumbing to the nauseous wave of nervous. In truth, I loathed this place. I wished I hadn't needed to come here, but she needed me. My own personal feelings weren't important. Within these walls was the answer; the cure.
Chapter1.
The day like all nightmarish days began like any other. The sun shined a little too brightly jarring me from what I was sure had been an amazing sequence of dreams even if I couldn't recall the specifics. A smile widened on my face as I looked over at my gorgeous wife. Her long brunette hair splayed over the pillows, her body pushing against my own perfectly. Behind her closed eyelids were two of the warmest, biggest brown orbs I'd ever seen. Gabriella and I were young at just twenty five, but marriage was always the plan from the moment we met. It's the hardest thing in the world to attempt picturing life without Gabriella by my side. The best I can do is picturing the event that caused us to be placed together by fate.
The lights in the gym were bright and adding heat. The crowd was vicious; red cups were being thrown around the stands, hecklers attempted to disrupt our coast, but their team was going down. The coaches were out of their seats pointing and jumping crazily on the sidelines. We were up by a double with four minutes to go in the game; allowing the other team to run up and down the court uncontested would still leave us ahead and the victors. My teammates and I were piling on the humiliation. Zeke, a tall black kid with an infectious goofiness, stood underneath the goal ready to field a pass from Chad, a mocha colored kid with a fro the size of Connecticut and my best friend/brother, who was playing power forward. Jason, a dude at guard who was only awake during games, played defense worthy of a centurion. As the last member of our team on the floor, I wasn't even supposed to touch the ball, but I was feeling like superman. All night I had been guarded heavily restricting my points as point guard. I was a well known scorer and they were playing smart basketball by limiting my possessions. The buzzer kept ticking away. We should have held the ball and been gracious. We chose to be the jocks we were. Chad trough the ball, before Zeke could dunk, I called for the ball. My hand made contact and I soared over a defender named Ryan. Somehow the ball bounced off the rim and my momentum propelled me into Ryan cracking his jaw and landing right on his knee when he fell backwards. His scream recorded in my brain. I felt so ashamed. The blood rushed so fast in my head I barely registered the pain shooting through my own knee as I tried to stand. The gym faded as I black out. Basketball was over for both of us.
I awakened in a hospital bed with a metal knee complete with nails and a heavy heart. There was no one to blame but myself for what happened. A week after being in the hospital, I found myself in the arms of one Gabriella Anne Montez. Apparently, while I was only planning my future with basketball, she was solidifying her position as a bonefied genius; having completed her undergrad degree in two years, she was finishing her masters while working as a student science assistant with the medical school students. Her job was to monitor the rehabilitation students and alter their medicine regimen for maximum recovery and recovery time. We struck up conversation as she was observing my rehab training for the day, which consisted of a nurse coming in to rotate my knees for me; I would not be able to stand for at least three months, and full recovery would be closer to an entire year.
"HI," she bubbled. Her smile was wide with perfect teeth framed by glossed lips.
"Yea," I grunted still pulling at the depression card I'd been playing for days.
Her smile disappeared briefly, and she replaced it answering, "Well, aren't you a downer. It's your fault you are here anyway. We were winning. You could have been gracious."
I was dumbfounded. My teammates had been soft on me, even though I could tell they thought what she had the courage to say. My coach had been even softer excusing my arrogance. My parents could hardly count as disciplinarians. This petite girl made me feel stupid for my stupid actions. I found myself wanting her approval. Our conversations grew in length over the course of two weeks, and when I could operate a wheel chair properly I gathered the nerve to ask her out. Dating was purely out of protocol, because by our fourth date I'd made up my mind to marry her. My mother thought she was an angel from on high, my father referred to her as the 'daughter-in-law,' and all of my friends said she made me mushy, and though I didn't agree on the mushy part, there was no doubt I was in love.
Impatience pushed me to wake Gabriella from her slumber, after all we were newlyweds. I threw a pillow inover her head startling her for just a moment before bursting out into a brilliant grin. Every morning she greeted me with "I Love you," no matter how annoying my method.
"I love you, too," I replied hoping she could hear how much I meant it.
Always the thinker, she ramped into a rundown of our busy schedules. I would be training a new attendant at the health clinic I worked at as a physical therapist for side lined athletes. I enjoyed helping those players who were unsure of their future work through the injury, and sometimes get them back in the game. Gabriella would head to Cyper laboratories were she created miracles in both medicine and technology. I couldn't help chuckling at how excited she was about her latest project even if she couldn't share all the details. If I would've seen what was coming next we'd have never left the bedroom, but hind sight is twenty/twenty and I left her in the shower singing. The biggest mistake I'd ever made.