The Little Match Girl, A HSM Fanfic
By aussiesheila47
Chapter 1
Gabriella Montez didn't feel comfortable at all. Her stilettos pinched, she was afraid of flashing in her mini-dress and at least five guys had tried to pick her up in the past three hours. It didn't help matters much that she couldn't smell anything on them but the alcohol. And then there was the bass-line of the house music pumping throughout the building – Gabi could feel it vibrating her bar-stool, it was so loud.
With a sigh, she extracted her phone from her purse and sent a text to her friend Sharpay. Leaving now, headache. Gud 2 CU, tho. Have a gr8 nite w/Zeke. Luv Gabi.
She moved passed the throng of bodies on the dance-floor, trying to push the hem of her skirt down to a more decent length. Sharpay had picked the dress out in the first place, of course. Gabi nearly stumbled as she turned a corner towards the exit, unaccustomed to such high heels, and grasped at the closest thing for comfort – which turned out to be a man's arm.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she said breathlessly.
"No, it's fine," he told her. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, just trying to get home."
"Can I walk you there?"
Dressed as she was, Gabi had a feeling that it would not be a good idea to try to walk to her apartment alone – this was New York City, after all. So she nodded. "Sure."
This guy, whoever he was, seemed pretty decent. He hadn't tried to feel her up, or push her into an alleyway and mug/rape her … all seemed well.
After a few streets the man asked her if it wouldn't be better to catch a cab.
Gabi shook her head. "It's not far. Plus I don't fancy our chances of getting a cab at this hour."
After a few more streets Gabi turned into a dingy alleyway and stopped in front of a poster-covered door. "This is me," she said shyly.
The man nodded. "Let me give you my card," he said, and reached into his jacket. But what he pulled out wasn't a business card. It was a gun.
Oh, shit. Breathe, Gabi, breathe.
The man pointed the gun at her temple. "Sit down and give me your purse," he ordered.
Gabi whimpered, slid to the ground and held out her purse. Then out of nowhere –
WHACK!
Someone hit the man on the head. He fell to the ground and dropped the gun, which hit Gabi on the head. Through the dizzying pain she saw her rescuer's face illuminated in the harsh light cast by the street lamp on the corner. She'd seen those blue eyes before, surely?
But before Gabi could put a name to the face, the world faded to black.
When she awoke, she was lying on a bed under very soft bedclothes. She could tell she was wearing her bra and panties still, but when she opened her eyes she found herself wearing a man's business shirt over then. She sat up.
"Where am I?" she demanded.
"Oh, you're awake," said her rescuer, who, in the bright light of day, turned out to be exactly who she thought he had been. "I'm so glad you're not concussed."
"Where am I?" she repeated.
"My apartment," he answered.
"Why am I here?"
"Well, I couldn't very well leave you lying in the alleyway, could I?"
"And where's my dress?"
A rumble that Gabi hadn't noticed suddenly stopped. She could still hear the New York traffic, but whatever that rumble had been, it had definitely been terminated.
Troy Bolton pointed at a closed door. "It just finished tumble-drying. When you fainted, you landed in a puddle. So I washed it for you."
She blinked. "Uh, thank you."
They sat in silence for a minute or two. Gabi looked around his apartment. It was open plan, one bedroom, and her own apartment could have fit into it four times. He also had better quality stuff – electrical appliances, TV, sofa, and an actual dinner table. Not surprising, considering his salary with the Giants.
"So, what were you doing in that alley?" she asked.
Troy rubbed the back of his neck in that way that film characters do to show that they're embarrassed or uncomfortable. "Taking photos."
Gabi looked at him in disbelief. "What would you want to photograph there?"
"I know a guy with an apartment there. The apartment itself is nothing to phone home about, but it's on the top floor and the view is amazing."
"I didn't know you liked photography."
"We kind of got cut short, if you remember."
Gabi stared at her knees. "You know that it was Taylor and Chad who-"
"-who broke us up. Yeah. Chad told me. Do you still-"
"-still sing? Not really. I work at the city library. What about you?"
"Yeah, my shower-head is still my biggest fan."
Gabi smiled in spite of herself. "Do you think you could get my dress, please?"
Troy stood up from his chair. "Sure." And he did.
"Bathroom?" she asked.
He pointed at another closed door. "Just there."
Gabi got changed in record time. Unfortunately there was nothing she could do about her hair, since Troy didn't have so much as a comb by the basin, and she didn't feel comfortable rummaging through his cupboards. So she exited the bathroom and stood just past its threshold, feeling extremely awkward. "Do you have the time?"
Troy glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. "Uh, half past seven."
"Shit!" Gabi exclaimed. Troy looked at her in shock. Gabi reminded herself that the last time they'd seen each other (graduation from East High) she'd been a delicate little flower, not yet toughened by living in New York for seven years. "My shift starts at ten, and the traffic will be murder," she explained to him. "I need to get back to my apartment. Like, now."
"Well, let me drive you," Troy offered immediately. "We're on the other side of town right now."
"You did hear what I said about the traffic, right?" Gabi muttered. But Troy, it seemed, was a very smart driver, because his Volvo managed to get her to her apartment by nine o'clock.
The puddle hadn't been cleaned up, but the mugger had moved on. Gabi shuddered slightly as she made her way to the fire escape. "Would you like to come up?" she asked. Since she'd been in his apartment, it seemed only fair that he should see hers.
Troy let himself be led up the fire escape. On the landing at the top, two chairs were bolted to the grill-floor cafe-style at a table, which was also bolted down. Gabriella took a key from her purse and opened the door. She went in first and he followed her.
The first thing he noticed about the apartment was that. It. Was. Tiny. In the area they were standing in, there was a kitchenette, a three-seater lounge that looked like a futon, and a small TV in an entertainment unit that appeared to also have a DVD player, TiVo, a clock-radio and a set of iPod speakers. There only seemed to be two other rooms, so Troy guessed that the larger one was the bedroom and the other was the bathroom. What he could see was tidy, though cheaply and sparsely furnished – not that much more would have fit. However, the walls were hung with lots of photos, mainly of Gabriella with, Troy could hardly believe, Sharpay and Kelsi from East High. Ryan and Zeke also appeared in several of the photos.
"Excuse me," Gabriella said, bringing Troy back to himself. "I need to get changed."
Troy nodded. "Can I use your bathroom?" Sure enough, she pointed at the smaller of the two rooms off this main one.
Like the main room, Gabriella's bathroom was extremely tidy. The bottles of lotions and whatnot on the counter between the sink and the shower were lined up in height order, and the toilet and shower were so brightly white that they fairly shined. It smelt ultra-feminine, too, like roses and chocolate. Troy did his business and washed his hands. As he did so, he noticed one of the cupboards was labelled Sharpay. He'd have to ask about that. In the photos outside it looked as though Zeke and Sharpay were an item.
Troy exited the bathroom and, since Gabi wasn't out of her bedroom yet, he took the liberty of inspecting her book-case. She had a compendium of Shakespeare's plays, a stack of Jane Austens, seemingly every Lord of the Rings book ever written, some short story anthologies, and Isabel Allende's back catalogue, plus some exotic cookbooks. Troy thought of his own bookshelf, which consisted mainly of old Hardy Boys and Spiderman comics, with some biographies of sport-stars, plus a couple of darkroom manuals. He shook his head. They were still so different.
A door creaking open made him turn around. And stare. And then stare some more.
Gabriella was gorgeous. Skinny as a rake, but gorgeous. She was wearing a crisp white shirt, a gored mocha skirt that fell to just below her knees and a fitted waistcoat in the same colour. A pearl choker encircled her neck, while a silver watch glinted on her wrist. Flat brown suede brogues completed the ensemble. She looked as though she'd stepped out of a '30s fashion magazine.
Troy felt as though he'd been hit with a pile of bricks. Why did I let her go?
Troy looked as though he'd been hit over the head with Kelsi's baton. By Zeke. Or maybe Sharpay in a diva mood. In any case, he looked shocked. Surprised that I can clean up like this? Gabi thought.
The clock-radio beeped 9:30, startling them both. "Shit!" said Gabi again. "I have to get to work!"
"Can I drive -?" Troy began immediately, but Gabi cut him off.
"No. The traffic will be worse by now. Besides, I usually walk."
"Ah. Hence the flats, I guess."
They both looked at her shoes. "Yes," Gabi agreed, surprised that he'd noticed. When had a guy ever looked at her shoes? "Hence the flats." She returned to the bedroom to retrieve her coat, then went back to the main room. "Well. I have to be going."
"Can I walk you there?"
Gabi paused. The last time someone had said that to her, she'd nearly been mugged. However, the person who was saying it to her now a) had no idea about that, b) clearly didn't have a hidden agenda, and c) was drop-dead gorgeous. Seriously. "Only if it's not taking you away from something important."
Troy opened the door for her. How sweet. "I think this is fairly important," he said. She was left to ruminate on that, because the walk to the library was spent in silence. Well, there were horns beeping and hawkers and touts yelling, but Troy and Gabi didn't speak.
Why did you say that, you idiot? Troy berated himself as they traversed the concrete jungle. Going way too fast, buddy. Besides, how do you know she hasn't moved on?
Gabriella turned out to be a fairly swift walker. Coupled with the lack of breakfast, Troy thought he might be onto cracking why she was so skinny, if she had to make this trek every day on foot. They reached the steps of the library at last, right on the dot of 9:55.
Be brave, Wildcat. "Can I see you at lunch?" Troy asked.
Gabriella smiled. "I'd like that. Except I have a meeting at lunch. Maybe tomorrow?"
Troy thought for a moment. Was he free Tuesday lunch? Yes, he was. "Tomorrow would be great. Um, one p.m. here? Does that sound all right?"
"That sounds fine," Gabriella replied, smiling still. She motioned behind her. "Um, I have to go. But I'll see you then?"
"Sure," Troy assured her. She waved and went into the building. Troy stood there for a moment with a goofy grin on his face. Then a crowd of people exited the nearest subway station and he found himself jostled, buffeted this way and that. He turned around and headed back to Gabriella's apartment to collect his car. Training started at three.
Once he was in the dingy alleyway again, he took his camera out of the trunk of his car and went back up the fire escape to Gabriella's door. This shot was even better. The neighbourhood was terrible, Troy knew, but it would be amazing for Gabriella to eat and have that view of the Big Apple. Now if only I could share it with her, he thought.
A.N. Christmas 2007, my cousin's partner gave me a copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion. It's beautiful, and about second chances. This won't follow its plot, but it was inspired by the second-chance theme. If the traffic times seem unrealistic, it's because I've never been to America, much less New York, although it is on my to-do list. Next chapter: Troy and Gabi fill in the gaps between not doing the call-backs and where they are now. Reviews are always appreciated!