Disclaimer: Don't own. Never will, man.
Before Your Eyes
Day 3511
In a busy city, on a busy street the rain fell down in murky clumps, falling through thick blankets of smog and blurring the lit scattered buildings with a translucent gray, as if that was its eternal shade.
Her body trembled, shaking ever so carefully, while she hugged her torso, wanting to crumple into a ball. Darker clouds crept over groups of people, trudging through the weather to wherever they were meant to be that day, while cars crowded together on the streets, stopping and starting depending on what type of accident or crash happened that morning. Sighing, she shifted her weight from one foot to another, rubbing her upper arms and ignoring why she wasn't drenched yet.
Across the street from where she was standing, trails of mud and leaves led in twists and turns upstairs to the flat on the top floor of the apartment building. A single man wearing a gray beanie slowly dragged himself to the top floor of the building, unlocking his apartment door and removing his muddied shoes.
The television was still on since that morning, illuminating the rest of the dark room with animated flashes of lights and colors. He never turned it off. The same channel was playing reruns of some family oriented show, the kind with morals and lessons incorporated in each one. He never changed it.
A beer found its way into his fist in moments time, he'd stopped noticing himself putting the effort in getting one, it just happened to end up in some sort of drunken matter anyways.
Uninterested in entertaining himself for the rest of the night, the man went to bed not long after that with the tv still on and set to a low volume, and in a few hours when he would curse himself for waking back up to his reality, he'd leave for work with the television still on as well.
Because he knew that if it wasn't on, nothing else would motivate him to go back home.
---
"Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, HAPPY-"
"Thank you Gabriella..."
Troy grinned, beckoning her to come closer. Gripping her wrists lightly, he pulled this girlfriend into a hug, dismissing his mother's constant picture taking and 'awwing'. Finally letting go, he smiled once more. Then, remembering the lecture he was given by his mother earlier that morning, he carefully took the wrapped box from her hands and pecked her lips, mumbling another 'thank you' somewhere in between.
"Happy birthday Troy!"
Standing up to his full length, Troy spun her around, ignoring her protests and giggling. "Sharpay, Taylor, Kelsi and the guys are out back. You're last to arrive." he said, playfully glaring at her. "But...Now that you're here," Troy waggled his eyebrows cockily, "What'd ya get me?"
"Psh..." Gabriella rolled her eyes, "Just open it yourself," she answered, sticking her tongue out.
Ripping off the carefully wrapped box carelessly, his eyebrows drew together, holding up the present, "Um...what is it?"
"I've always called him Piff...But you can call him whatever you want..."
"But...what is it?"
"He's a teddy bear."
Troy stared at her for a relatively long time, his forehead creasing, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Thanks...?" he said, more reluctantly than he intended it to be. "...Um."
"I've had one exactly like him since I was six, except mine has a red bow around his neck instead of blue, but his name's Poof."
"Poof and Piff?"
"No," she frowned, "Piff and Poof."
Troy opened his mouth, holding the small brown bear by its stubby arms, "Um...You know I'm...turning, er, eighteen...right?"
"I wouldn't really forget something like that," she said lifting an eyebrow.
"I mean..." he ran a hand through his hair, "I like it-er-love it...and everything...but, don't you think it's...well...Piff, I guess, is kind of...uh..."
"This may sound really corny..." Gabriella grinned sheepishly, flushing a shade of pink, "-I mean, I only read it from a book a long time ago...and I just, er, found Piff and Poof when we were spring cleaning..and I just thought 'why not?'...y'know. Because Poof was one of my favorite toys as a kids...and I used to always sleep with him on my bed til I was twelve..."
"...um," Troy still continued to stare at the small plush toy, running the pad of his thumb over its ear, a grin forming on his face "...Actually, I really like...Piff, Gabs. But I still don't get what's this about?"
"It's because..." Gabriella said breathlessly, "They're a pair. And you're supposed to give the other one to someone you really care about."
---
Day 3523
Troy Bolton has had his share of surprises in life, but his mail was normally not one of them. Normally.
You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of
Sharpay Evans
and
Chad Danforth
on Sunday afternoon
June the second
at four o'clock
Thirty five East Oliver Avenue
followed by a reception
rsvp: 555.6724
The invitation was written in curly soft pink script over a solid off-white sheet, and it was almost funny seeing his old friend's name written in such a feminine color. Closing the envelope, Troy stuck the letter onto his refrigerator. Honestly, it didn't seem right for him to even attend the wedding-or be invited to it for that matter. He hadn't seen Chad or Sharpay in years, and he never even knew they were together in the first place.
Sighing, he grabbed his coat, slipping on the worn sleeves, and kicking the door shut behind him.
It no longer was his place, he thought. Since college, he'd already moved eight times to eight different cities, it probably took them forever to even find out where he was living now. Yet now, only a month after finally finishing all the unpacking, he still feels unwelcome, like he was shunned wherever place, like he needs to find somewhere else to run away because in retrospect, he never could adjust.
"They even bothered to find me," he scoffed, not believing it himself. Then, Troy added in a low voice, "I didn't do a good enough job moving away then."
---
"I think you're just being stupid."
"I know you are but what am I?"
"Idiot."
"I know you are but what am I?!" An eight year old Troy Bolton glared at his best friend threateningly, daring her to call him another name from his crouched position under a wooden picnic table.
Gabriella narrowed her eyes into slits, crossing her arms over her chest, "I hate you right now."
"Is that all you've got?!" Troy taunted, sticking his tongue out, "You've been whining for ages all because Brad Culten gave you a valentine's day card yesterday and now all you can say is 'I hate you'?!"
"Troy. Bolton. Shut. Up."
"I gave you a beautifully drawn out card with the glittery crayola crayons," he continued, adjusting his position from under the table, "But you STILL shared your skittles with BRAD! I think I should be the one to say 'I hate you'. I worked hard and Brad just gave you a stupid store-bought Monsters Inc. print out note!"
Gabriella sighed, finally crouching down so that the two were now eye level under the picnic table, "I'm sorry I didn't save you any skittles. But you're acting dumb." Troy pouted, turning to a different angle so that his back was facing her. "You didn't give me a chance to thank you though." She pointed out, poking his sides, "You're the bestest friend I ever had because you made that yourself."
Giving in, he smiled, "So my glitter crayons are way cooler than Monsters Inc, right?"
Kissing his cheek, Gabriella nodded, "Always. Glittery crayons are my favorite."
---
A transparent figure sighed, waiting patiently outside of the same apartment. "That was one of the earlier ones," she said wearily.
"You'll keep seeing them until you let go," a deep voice said in a hushed tone.
The figure groaned, "I know that...But I'm not ready yet..." As another vision flashed before her eyes, and with a blank expression, she stood eerily still before returning back to her previous state. Groaning, she whined, "Ugh...that was an embarrassingly bad one...I've already seen it six times too-"
"You would've only relived it once if you let me take you when-"
"-Well they're not even coming in order anymore. And they're getting longer," she huffed, "I never wanted to see them at all!"
"Well then," the voice replied in an annoyed tone, "Whatever this is you've been waiting for; it needs to happen soon."
---
Day 3545
Troy sat slumped in his favorite recliner, staring at the note in front of him, a beer in one hand and his cellphone in the other, an old clunky flip phone that he was too lazy to get rid of. His thumb was hovering over the green call button, while he was debating what to do.
"This is a bad idea," he sighed.
Pressing the button, his breath hitched, listening closely to the speaker phone. "Hello, Danforth residence. Who's thi-?"
And then he hung up. Because he couldn't bear it.
Groaning, Troy got up from his seat, throwing the empty beer bottle in the sink, and confiding to the comfort of his room.
He remembered returning to East high some five or six years ago, feeling that all-too-familiar deja vu. Remembering how the school already looked so different; glossier, newer. Almost as if it was a museum, which is exactly what it now felt like to Troy, and exactly what he didn't want it to be. But this glossier East high, preserved with all its memories and glory, seemed only like a wax figure; only a model of what it had been.
He suddenly felt eighteen again, cradling in nothing but the cold floor tiles and the bathroom kitchen sink with the door locked and tears never leaving his eyes, shunning the rest of the world.
But he couldn't bring himself to do that anymore, his decisions no longer mattered to him because this no longer was a life to live. He stopped letting his dreams control his mind, because in this distorted existence, the only glimpse of hope is the memory of an overlooking past.
It was a pathetic actuality. Because she was gone. And he never learned how to live without her.
"...I need to move."
---
If Troy Bolton visited Gabriella Montez's grave, he'd promise to bring an orchid every night, look up into the sky, whatever weather, and reminisce of when the two of them had counted the same constellations as teenagers. When they had forgotten that time was still ticking and the earth still spun, and their blinded futures still seemed so far away. And he would talk to her like they'd used to, ignoring the mistakes and problems he had already made. As long as they were together.
But maybe someday, down that path, they would have been forever reduced to living realities full of only 'what ifs' and the sparkling temptations of knowing what had really been planned for the two. Because life hasn't followed any of their rules so far anyways.
"So, are you ready yet?" said the same voice.
Years ago, she probably would have thought she was crazy, hearing low voices in her head. Years ago, she may have have accepted that she had died, only to wake up and find her body cold, and the rest of her existence may forever be wandering society, watching glimpses of her past life over and over again. Because in reality, she was still in that thin dimension that was neither life nor death. But those so many years ago, she had made a decision.
"Hold on..."
"You've been saying that for years."
"And you've been asking me the same thing."
"You're like some ultimate stalker."
"Hold on!" she snapped, biting her lip nervously, "Just hold on, okay?..."
---
Day 3581
Troy had begun to pack away his belongings into cardboard boxes, stacking them like towers on the side of the room. Looking around his nearly empty apartment, he sighed, the only thing left was his larger furniture: couch, bed, and, of course, tv. Grabbing two or three shoe boxes at a time from his closet, he carefully looked over each of their labellings.
Pictures. Baseball Cards. Grocery Receipts. Gabby.
Raising his eyebrows, Troy fingered the wide lid before peeking inside. He hadn't been in there for a while. Inside were an assortment of homemade soundtracks and old CDs, two of his high school year books, a photo album, and two miniature stuffed bears.
The small toys looked stripped by the cold darkness inside the forgotten box; they seemed weary, enfeebled from age, worn from the experiences they had to fill. And the phrase 'the more things remain the same, the more they really change' seemed to fit the two.
Not even their lives had turned out the way they had planned.
---
"Do you think we'll stay together Troy?" A sixteen year old Gabriella Montez asked softly, swinging her legs across the hot pavement bellow their park bench. "You...and me...D'you think it'll be forever?"
"I don't know Gabby...I think it'll just depend on what happens..."
"I don't know...I've just...been thinking," she rambled biting her lip, "Because we've best friends for so long...and now, we're kind of...together..." She paused shortly then continued once more, "And I've loved you for such a long time..."
Troy blinked, making sure he wasn't dreaming, "Gabby-"
"You don't have to say it back," she smiled, rubbing her hand over his knee, "Because I do love you. And I think...that even if we're together or not, I wouldn't care...Because wherever you or I am, I'd make sure you were happy before we would be apart."
---
It was awkward. So far that night, his only companion was the fork in his right hand, three guilty pieces of wedding cake, and numerous refills of wine.
In a strange euphoria, he had ended up in his car, risking a ticket to at least make it to the reception on time. It may not have been his influence that proved the value of that moment, but it was also the fact that he had done it on his own will.
As Troy fidgeted in his seat, needlessly adjusting his tie, he felt a curtain of pity mentally cover his face, shading any previous signs of revolution, after a slow song was played for the umpteenth time. Most of the people who had been seated at the same table with him were already twirling around each other on the dance floor, smiling as every other couple did the same in sync.
"I'm glad we still reserved you a seat...Did you like the cake?"
Slightly craning his neck, Troy gave his friend a ghost of a grin, "Aren't you supposed to be dancing? You are the groom."
Chad shook his head-almost too enthusiastically, as if needing to show off that he had untied his previous pony tail into his original mass of curls, "Nah," he smiled, "I think I've danced to enough songs involving love and happiness to last me a life time." He paused, catching a glimpse at his wife as she talked animatedly to one of the guests, "Not that I mind dancing with Shar...I just think we're both getting a bit tipsy anyways."
Biting the inside of his cheek, Troy nodded understandingly, the couple dances regaining his attention. "You guys seem happy together." He sighed, "You seem in love."
"Hence all of the wedding songs that have been played tonight."
Chuckling under his breath, Troy propped his chin under his hand, observing the scene: the dim florescence of chandelier lights cast a warm glow over everyone's faces, parents from both sides were discussing about futures while other friends and family members slowly conditioned themselves to a new song; men were looking more comfortable, while women, proved safe, had smiles matching the crinkled edges to their pleased eyes.
"I always expected you to get married first out of all of us," the newly wedded man explained.
Raising an eyebrow, Troy curiously let Chad continue.
"Even when we were still in high school, you could tell that you and Gabs loved each other so much," he bit his lip thoughtfully, "I used to think it was just some miraculous characteristic in your relationship; something so wonderful that no one else could produce it. I got jealous sometimes too. And after I broke up with Taylor senior year, I thought I would be hopeless. I thought I would never find my own Gabriella."
"But you and Sharpay are-"
"Nothing compared to what you guys had," Chad winked, placing a hand on Troy's shoulder. "It's been ten years, we all need to catch up soon."
Smiling for what seemed like the first time in ages, Troy hugged his friend, "Thanks Chad." Then, getting up from his seat, he grabbed a silver gift bag from under his chair and gave it to Chad. "Don't forget to read the card. I'm gonna head home. Tell Shar that she looks great tonight."
"You're leaving? Already?"
"Yeah," he grinned, "I think I might have left the tv on."
Patting him on the back, Chad watched Troy exit outside, thanking him for making it. Then, fingering the small shiny card attached to the gift bag, he called Sharpay over, pecking her lips, and updating her that Troy had to leave, letting the two read the small message together:
Happy rest of your lives.
I wish I would have been there for you guys from the start. But no regrets.
The one with the blue bow is Piff, and the one with the red bow is Poof. Piff and Poof.
They always looked out of place in the back of my closet. So take care of them, they mean a lot to me.
And besides, I've been told that they're a pair.
And they're meant for two people who really care about each other.
Best wishes.
-Troy
---
"It's happening now...isn't it?" Bringing her hands closer to her face, the same figure pursed her lips, watching carefully as her fingers began to sparkle and melt away. She brought her hands to her side, looking over herself.
"...After being Earth bound all these years..."
"You have to move on now. Finally follow instinct."
She sighed, "At the same time, I wish I could still stay," their surroundings began to blur, like puddles of colors dripping onto the floor, "But I guess it's time."
"You've kept your promise Gabriella. You'll be okay now. He's going to be okay now."
---
Day 1
According to myth, before you die, your entire life flashes before your eyes. But as the already transparent figure reduced to a faint white light, an entire montage didn't seem necessary anymore. The same reeling clips that had been shown over and over again had finally come to a stop.
Because as of now, in a busy city, on a busy street, a man just saw flashes of his future.
And it looked brighter.
AN: Honestly, that's been in my documents for nearly a year. But REVIEW, all of you, as much as possible, with maybe a specific line or phrase you liked? ...Please?
-IHC