I'm not sure there's anyone left in this fandom. I'm not even sure why I'm posting this. I guess I just had a burst of inspiration and I needed to see whether I could still write for set characters and a different pairing. This could probably be explored in far more depth by a better author, but I suppose I just wanted to write something simple. If anybody does indeed read this, I hope you enjoy it. Reviews would be appreciated.

My ebony tresses flew aimlessly, fighting a losing battle against the rare Californian breeze. I allowed my eyes to glance over the interior of his stupid black Audi. I was still angry.

We'd been driving for a mere two hours when he'd muttered those words. We had pulled up for gas and while I felt his eyes burn holes into the first few layers of my no-longer-youthful skin, I'd stubbornly diverted my gaze to anywhere but him. He waited. For an entire five minutes, he sat and examined my face; the pursed lips, emotionless eyes – the blank expression. He knew the symptoms. I was sulking. Due to his refusal to tell me where we were headed (despite my desperate offers), I had, in true childish fashion, sulked.

In desperate irritation, he opened his lips and the words that followed were, to me, the very worst.

"Will you stop acting like a child? You're turning into Sharpay."

My jaw dropped in a highly unattractive manner. My eyelids were drawn to one another in a glare and my arms folded – shutting him out. "Did you really just compare me to Sharpay?"

Instantly, I saw guilt lace itself within the depths of his powder blue eyes and I knew that he would work on retracting his comment. "Gabi – I didn't mean it. I don't even know why I said it," he paused and then those spherical visual motors widened as though he'd thought of a better excuse. He continued. "That's a lie. I do. I was angry and foolish."

I felt the wall of frustration tumbling down as he timidly flashed those pearly white teeth in my direction – his famously long hair trailing just above his left eye. Was it really worth holding a grudge when this was one of the few moments we'd get alone together? As I fell deeper into the gravitational pull of those damn perfect eyes, I concluded it wasn't. So I sighed and sent him a small smile, and he left to fix the gas. I could never stay angry with him.

As I waited, I tried to capture in thought what it was about Sharpay that I could never grasp. When we graduated, we made our peace, but the thought of being compared to her had clutched my stomach and twisted it into uncomfortably tiny pieces. Was it the delusional behaviour she had shown throughout our teenage years? No.

Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple.

You see, we aren't the same 18 year old girls we were back then. Either of us. Though traits may be visible in our behaviour – the manner in which we conduct and present ourselves – we had outgrown that teenage phase. Like snakes shedding their skin, we had moved on. As individuals, we had fallen more times than even Darbus could have scripted, and risen again more quickly than our rivalling graduation cakes.

As a pair, well, I suppose we could only be likened to tiger and lion; we both had an uncanny habit of fighting for those we loved, with deadly bites and ferocious growls. In a sense, we were terrifyingly similar – taught everything we know from the same kind of family. Yet it had shaped us so very differently.

With a slam, the car door shut and Troy slid into the driver's seat. As he handed me a cold bottle of water, I scanned his face again – the way I used to back in school. Not just a fleeting glance, a loving stare in the throes of passion or even a distasteful glare. Instead, I took my time and inspected every inch of skin – the brown that hung under those crystal blue eyes; the almost-sunken lids in which they lived. For thirty, he was attractive. Although there was never any doubt he would be. He had aged, however. Beneath the surface of a wealthy man, small wrinkles were etched like bad memories, reminders of the stress that had come as the price to pay for the money he earned.

I smiled upon finishing my inspection. He gnawed lightly on his bottom lip and I frowned.

"Stop," I demanded, softly.

He blushed in response and with pursed lips, leaned towards me. I pressed the pink flesh against his and felt him smile against them. It was a sweet gesture that had thankfully never been lost throughout our long companionship. We pulled apart and the moment had passed transiently, but it still managed to give me the same familiar tingles as the first time we kissed on that grassy hillside.

Troy fired his second favourite girl into action and we sped off yet again. I hitched the sunglasses atop of my head and examined the vast areas of American countryside surrounding us. I still had no idea where we were headed.

In the past, that had been a crucial part of our adventures. Each year, one of us would get behind the wheel with a chosen destination in mind and the other would be totally oblivious. It wasn't until we finally arrived that the secret would be unfolded. Now that we were older, it had somehow lost its excitement.

I cast my gaze towards an upcoming road sign and felt a resounding sense of dread rise in my stomach. We were headed east, towards Nevada. Troy took his eyes off the road briefly to gauge my reaction and I offered him a small smile – a token of my (wavering) trust.

As I toyed with the cuffs of my pale pink blouse, I let myself yet again succumb to the memories of the past.

~T&G~

Nevada's greatest talent agency. That's how they marketed themselves. When I got the call, it caused my brain to spin incessantly. It took me four days to answer them, but they never pressed me. Nobody would dare force the girlfriend of Troy Bolton to do anything. In the end, I took a deep breath and followed my heart.

I was twenty one at the time. Troy had shot to fame faster than it took Usain Bolt to cross the finish of a 100m race and it had started to strain our relationship. So in a desperate bid to cling to the life that I felt was slipping through my fingers, I decided to change pace with it. I left without a goodbye and found a place in Henderson, NV. At the time, only Troy knew. Only Troy would understand.

The very first time I entered that office, a platinum blonde in a tight pink top and skinny jeans stood opposite me. Her presence immediately cowered over my tiny frame, just as it used to.

"What are you doing here?" she asked; her voice ladened with animosity that I knew to expect, despite our truce three years prior.

I took a deep breath. "I got a call asking me to consider joining. I thought about it and realised it was what I wanted. Now here I am."

My voice was surprisingly powerful in contrast to the nerves in the pits of my stomach. Sharpay Evans wasn't just the blonde Barbie lookalike from our East High days. This time, her power wasn't trivial or existing solely in her head. She was a star; a well-known name dripping from the lips of every reporter. She had the power to break me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

"How did I not hear about this? The media haven't reported about it."

I sighed. I could lie and run the risk of her telling someone innocently, or I could tell the truth and let her broadcast it to the world. "They don't know."

I hadn't expected to be honest with her, but as I contemplated lying, I realised it wasn't the media I was afraid of. A year of media attention and you knew how these things worked: they kicked you to the bottom and then lifted you up all over again. No, I wasn't afraid of them at all – it was my mother I had to worry about.

The audition went well. They called me in just as Sharpay began to delve into my private life, and when I left, she was long gone. I had acted out a scene from a script they'd just received and they were completely blown away by my performance.

That evening, I picked up the phone and dialled the number. I still remembered it by heart, though I hadn't tried it for a long time. After three rings, my mother picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

For a moment, I stalled. Her voice wasn't as clear as it used to be; it was wavering, almost weak. Could I really tell her that I'd let her down? Did I have a choice?

"Mom? It's me."

I heard a cough down the line and then she paused. "Gabi?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I haven't called for a while, it's been crazy."

"So I've heard..."

"You see, I have something to tell you," I cut her off, anxious to speak quickly so I wasn't prolonging the disappointment.

"Yes?"

"I know I've just finished college and really, I should be looking for a job in law, but something's come up," I told her, my voice frantic. "Basically, I'm in Nevada; Henderson to be precise. I tried out for a role in a film – a talent agency has signed me."

She was silent for a long time and I waited, knowing it was a lot to take in. Finally, she spoke.

"You're an adult now," she stated, plainly. "I can't control your life. Do as you please."

Her tone, though uninterested, did not possess any hint of shock.

"You don't sound surprised."

"I already knew."

"How?"

"Sharpay called."

I felt my fist curl into a ball; my nails penetrating the skin and turning red with friction. I had underestimated her. I had forgotten that Sharpay knew what made me tick – what buttons to press to hurt me.

That's when it hit me. Had I sheltered the information about the media not knowing, she would have gone straight to them. But I didn't, and she'd figured that I didn't care about them. However, if the media didn't know, my mother didn't either.

"I see," I whispered.

Mom didn't comfort me, but I didn't expect her to. Instead, she made her excuses and said goodbye.

For the fourth time in a year, I sat alone in the darkness like a statue in the depths of night. It wasn't that I hadn't anticipated Sharpay's excitement at such an opportunity; it was that deep down I knew she understood me better than anyone. She knew what it would do to me if she told my mother, because it had happened to her.

We had dragged our feet down the same dusty path of life – driven like horses by our parents to the destination they wanted. She had chosen acting and so had I. But where her parents had desired modelling; my mother had wanted law. That wasn't entirely the whole story either.

While Sharpay had defied her parents to pursue her dream, I had stayed on the paved road. Choosing that road meant staying with Troy. Sharpay had fallen in love with Troy, but so had I. Troy loved me back. I knew this made her bitter, losing her parents and the man she loved while I continued on happily. So when finally presented with the chance, Sharpay took her revenge.

~T&G~

"Gabi?"

I continued staring blankly.

"Gabs?"

Slowly, the smooth voice penetrated my ear drums and registered with my brain. "Sorry, did you say something?"

He nodded meekly. "We're here."

Those two words finally shook my body into gear and thus back into reality. We were parked outside a hotel that I was certain anyone could associate with the location. Bellagio. Troy opened his door and took a step outside; instantly the hum of traffic and music filled my ears like a slightly more pleasant version of tinnitus.

Although Las Vegas and Henderson were worlds apart in terms of culture, their location was closer than I liked. I felt myself shake as Troy opened the door and offered his hand to me.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"A little," I lied.

Truth was I hadn't been to the State of Nevada for nine years. After the agency had signed me, I landed my first role. It was an instant success in the Box Office and I no longer had to live in Henderson to keep in contact with my agent. Instead, I moved in with Troy and our relationship began to repair itself with very little work. Although it was this state that helped me to shape my career, it also bore the reminder of the last conversation I ever had with my mother.

The concierge took our luggage to our suite while Troy grasped my hand. We entwined them the way we used to as teenagers, a habit we had cast aside in favor of the bear claw as we grew older. His thumb trailed over mine in a ghostly manner; so faint I might have missed it if we weren't so in tune with one another.

As we approached the hotel, Troy slowed to a stop. He stared into my eyes with a look of concern.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked, his eyes darting around my face in need of an answer.

I bit my lip. "I think so."

"If you need to leave at any time, we'll take the car and go."

I nodded, knowing he meant what he said.

As we walked through the lobby, pushing past a throng of drunken college students, I began to feel lifted. It was almost as though the burden of the past was being taken from me.

Until Troy stopped.

I followed his line of gaze. It fell at reception.

My eyes widened and my heart began to beat unhealthily fast.

"I swear to you, I had no idea," Troy said desperately, and the surprise in his tone told me he wasn't lying.

But I couldn't respond.

This lady had, perhaps unknowingly, had a hold on my life for many years. It had felt in the past like I was just a letter posted through her door and pinned to a notice board without a care for the contents.

Now she was sat at the reception, but behind the desk, in uniform. Her hair was still the same peroxide blonde; her boobs were still as large. But her face was no longer wrinkle free and the mischievous glimmer in her eyes had all but disappeared.

Sharpay Evans, former model and actress, was now working in a hotel lobby in Las Vegas.

Troy squeezed my arm. "We can leave..."

"No!"

He let go of me and quirked his eyebrow in shock. I sighed.

"I'm sorry. I just need to speak to her."

Troy shot me a look of discomfort. "Are you sure?"

I nodded.

Reaching for my hand, we continued towards the reception. Sharpay's eyes glanced upward from the screen for a mere second and then shot away, before taking a second glance. Her lips tightened and her eyes widened. I felt myself freeze.

Troy began to walk forward, pulling me along with him. He stopped by the desk and glanced over her as though he had no idea who she was.

"We're under the name of Bolton."

Sharpay nodded and reached for a card from a draw beneath the desk. "You're in the penthouse suite."

Without thanking her, Troy walked away. I stayed.

Sharpay stared into my eyes and I watched each layer of the wall she built each year begin to fall down. "Can I help you?"

I felt a surge of strength pulse through my veins. "I would like to speak to you in private."

"I'm working," she snapped.

"Well I'll wait until you finish. I'm here all night."

Reluctantly, she agreed. "I finish at 11. Meet me at the fountains."

Troy came back and pressed his hand to my back. "We need to leave; we have a dinner reservation."

I nodded, and we left.

Dinner with Troy was usually lovely, but as we sat opposite one another in a room full of people, we realised neither of us knew what to say.

"What did you say to her?" Troy asked, attempting to make conversation.

"Just that I wanted to see her."

"Well do you know what you're going to say?"

I shook my head. "I'm hoping it'll come to me when I see her."

"Possible, but unlikely."

I glared across the table. He laughed.

"Here, let me help you. Imagine I'm Sharpay."

I rolled my eyes. "Troy, not now."

"You're an actress – you're supposed to be able to act anywhere."

"Would you play basketball in here?"

He was silenced. That taught him not to try sarcastic remarks.

Our food arrived, but I wasn't really hungry. After several glasses of red wine and yet more small talk, I said goodbye to my husband and made my way to the fountains.

She left me waiting for fifteen minutes. I was ready to go when I heard her call my name.

"Gabriella?"

I turned in my spot and we walked towards one another. I opened my mouth to speak, but she silenced me.

"I can't stay long. I have a flight to catch. I know what you're going to say: you're going to tell me that you'll never forgive me for telling your mother about your career and ruining the relationship between you. But please, let me tell you this, I've never forgiven myself either. Even at twenty one, I hadn't grown up. I learned the hard way that pride comes before a fall and how I have fallen..."

I cut her off. Not by speaking, but by laughing. There was nothing funny in her remarks, but yet I had succumbed to fits of laughter. I soon realised that it didn't take a conversation with Sharpay for me to finally move past what she had done to me. I'd actually done it all by myself. On that very same day too. As I sat in the car, I had told myself why she acted the way she did and I found reason within it. Seeing her had thrown me off, granted. But it also made me realise that I no longer felt angry.

"You're wrong."

She stared at me with interest. "What do you mean?"

"I do forgive you. What you did was foolish but I understand why – you were hurting and jealous. You didn't understand why with such similar childhoods, we had such different outcomes. You weren't happy with yours, so you tried to sabotage mine. But really, I should thank you. My mom never truly cared anyway."

Sharpay's phone buzzed and she bit her lip. "I've got to go. But thank you for forgiving me after all of these years. And for the record, your mom always cared."

With that, she left.

I continued staring at the fountains as they lit up and spat out water at different heights. Why did Sharpay always insist on leaving me with something to think about? I mulled over what she said briefly, but it escaped my mind when Troy appeared behind me.

Wrapping his arms around my waist, he whispered in my ear. "You're smiling."

I turned in his arms. "I am."

"I haven't seen a real smile from you in years."

"Consider me a changed woman."

I took his hand in mine and shot him a mischievous look. Pulling him with me, I began to run. He followed.

"Where are we going?" he asked, panting.

"We're going to do what we came here to do – go on an adventure."

People looked on as we ran through the crowd hand-in-hand. To them, we probably looked insane; a couple of thirty year olds running and giggling towards the forest like four year old children in a theme park. To us, it didn't matter. We were liberated. For the first time since we met, Sharpay Evans didn't have a hold over our lives. For the first time, we were free.