I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairytale
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet, lead her up the stairwell
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down
Now it's too late for you and your White Horse,
To come around.

Taylor Swift – White Horse


Sharpay smiled weakly at the cold milky tea and chocolate cookies left outside her room in her favourite breakfast tray – the porcelain white one bordered with hand painted pink roses, which her late grandmother had given her as her last birthday gift. A packet of peach coloured pocket tissues were tucked discreetly under the plate, as if the nurse had guessed that her own supply might be running low. It had Ryan written all over it.

Only her twin brother would know that there was no point disturbing her or attempting to coerce her when she locked herself in her room. She was of a stubborn nature, one which wouldn't change overnight.

Sharpay took the tray in gratefully, and started on its contents. The cold tea suited her mood, she thought, as she sipped it whilst staring out of her balcony window. But the cookies were something else. Even though they had gone cold and hard with the hours they had awaited her, they still crumbled delightfully in her mouth, with just the right mix of chocolate and butter, and an artistic dash of something Sharpay couldn't place. But she didn't dwindle over the mystery ingredient; they only made the cookies better. They were so utterly Zeke.

Two boys who had incessantly cared about her all these years despite her many faults, and Sharpay's mind could only but be dragged back to one who never spared her a second glance; Troy Bolton. His lack of attention had nothing to do with her lack of trying. Since she had decided he was the one two years ago, every day had been about pursuing him that bit further. Two years worth of wasted time, Sharpay scoffed at her own blind stupidity.

There was no denying it; Troy Bolton was Prince. Golden blonde hair, clean-shaven, 6ft tall, with startlingly bright blue eyes; he could've come out of glamour magazine. Not to mention his status as East High's Basketball God, and straight 4.0 GPA. That boy had so much potential, it was almost a crime. He would undoubtedly go far in life, and Sharpay Evans was all about the future.

The trouble with Troy Bolton was, once you set your eyes on him, you didn't want to settle for anything less. It was called the 'Bolton syndrome', and although Troy would refute it abashing, it was a common colloquial for the rest of the school. It was also a rather transparent fact that Sharpay had it bad, but she couldn't care less.

She had one advantage the rest of the mass of girls didn't. She was East High's Princess. All 5ft4 ½ of her. Born into the Evans' empire, she was easily the richest girl in school, and unlike her brother, she didn't mind flaunting this bit of trivia every other second. She was immaculately kept; her wardrobe consisted of several up and coming designers, her ice blonde hair never lacked lustre despite its constant change in style, and her nails were manicured every week at the spa. To put it bluntly, she was gorgeous. And East High knew it. Boys very literally stumbled in her presence, and girls would look at her with a strong mixture of envy and idolisation everywhere she went. Mix this with her drive, ambition, charisma, and sheer talent in the arts, and you have the understated reason why her 3-year reign remained undefeated.

It seemed logical to her that East High's prince and princess would be as one. Rule the school with even more power, as his princess. But what Sharpay never realised was that Troy Bolton never cared for the title, never cared for the status, and ignored it as much as he could. The reputation had been entrusted upon him, whereas she had clawed her way to the top easily, without breaking a manicured fingernail. Looking back now, Sharpay should've realised it was never going to work out. That those times Troy gave her hope was out of kindness and slight pity, rather than growing fondness... And possibly love.

But one day, Troy Bolton did fall in love.

With Gabriella Montez.

"Welcome to East High!" Troy grinned broadly at the petite brunette.

"Thanks." She answered meekly. "I have to get to Chemistry now, but I guess I'll see you around?"

"Of course Elle." His voice turned an unexpected husky tone.

"Elle?" She questioned gently.

"Yeah well I just figured 'Gab-rie-ella' was quite a long name – it's three syllables worth, so I thought that I'd-"

"Shorten it to one syllable, Troy." Her voice hinted amusement.

"Oh yeah I guess that's true, I didn't think of it like that..." he was getting rather flustered. "If you don't like it, I'll change back to 'Gabriella'. In fact-"

"I love it, Troy." She smiled at him, and tucked away a lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes. "Now I really have to go! Bye."

"Bye Elle." He looked at her retreating form longingly.

The first time he had ever looked at a girl longingly.

Apparently they had met once before, at a ski lodge. It was a pathetic excuse, she knew that, Sharpay had 'met' him three years ago – that was 730 days worth. But she told herself that it was the reason Gabriella had captivated him all the same, as if it would ease the pain that little bit more.

Sharpay didn't make it easy for them, and why would she? Two years worth of a fight, and she wasn't about to back down now some pretty brunette got in her way.

Thousands of Bright yellow posters were pasted around East High explaining 'the truth' about Gabriella Montez, and the geeky genius protégée she really was. Her sudden rise in popularity at Troy's side had a steep fall, and she was left out casted by both Troy's friends and therefore the population of East High, and the Geniuses who assumed she thought she was too good for them.

So there she sat, alone at a big empty table in the lunch cafeteria, pretending to look busy whilst staring at her History textbook. Whilst in reality, the words were being distorted by her tears falling on the page.

"Elle, please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry. It makes me upset."

Her head snapped up at the familiar voice. "No Troy! Go away! You can't be seen with me."

He frowned, and sat down next to her. "Why not?"

"I'm a social outcast, you're already tainting your reputation by sitting next to me." She moved away from him, to the other side of the table, as if doing him a favour.

Troy growled audibly in protest, and moved with her.

She looked at him with slight menace. "Don't give me that. Last time I checked, you're not blind. Didn't you see all the yellow posters on your way here?"

Troy looked back at her, just as intensely. "And for the last time Elle, it was some jealous bitch's joke. We needn't suffer because of it."

"Exactly. How many more girls Troy? I've been hurt too many times in the past, and as much as I love you, I just can't do this all again." She turned back to her History book, undiscerning.

"You... love me?" Troy asked, in a soft tone.

"I..." her eyes widened with realisation at her previous wording. "...Yeah. But it doesn't matter." She attempted an off-handed shrug.

He grabbed her shoulders. "No. It matters. It'll always matter. Did you know I've been in love with you since the day we met?" he asked her, in great desperation, causing whispers close by.

She shook her head slowly. "But Troy, we can't-"

"No." He said again, with just as much anguish. "We can. We will. Gabriella Anne Montez, I love you. And nothing's going to change that. Not some stupid jealous dig, not my idiot friends, nothing. And by the way, I'm a bit offended that you didn't think I knew about your outstanding IQ, even if no one else did. I've spent practically every spare moment with you these days, and yeah you get amazing grades, but you hardly ever work."

Gabriella gestured to her history book, frowning.

"No, Elle. You're on the wrong chapter. Russian revolution was last semester."

That day had been a very low move, even by Sharpay's standards. And their photocopier machine had never been the same ever since that demand of copies. You would have thought she might have given up that day, as the two became an official couple much to the disappointment of their peers. But Sharpay's stubbornness was beyond average. She insisted to herself that relationships break up all the time. So she patiently waited for the 'inevitable day'. That never came.

No, instead she endured a year of watching the inseparable couple get closer and closer yet. Until another kind of 'inevitable day' came.

"Gabriella, I need to ask you something." Troy fiddled nervously with his hands.

Gabriella turned to him in surprise. He never called her by her full name unless it was really serious. "'Shall we break up?'" her tone was light, but the fear lingered in her eyes.

"What?! No!" Troy took the girl in his arms, and kissed her hair. "Hopefully never." He mumbled to himself.

"Mmm..." Gabriella breathed in his scent, before taking a step back. "What then?"

He took a deep breath in, before going down on one knee at lightning speed, rather clumsily.

Unfortunately, she misinterpreted this. "Troy are you okay?!" she crouched down beside him, scrutinising.

"No, no Elle! You're supposed to be standing up!" He hit his head with his hand. This did not happen in the movies.

"Okay?" she stood up slowly, gasping as she realised their positions.

Troy rolled his eyes. "Gabriella Anne Montez, I know we're young, and some might call me foolish for doing this. But I know myself that there is nobody else for me out there, in the world, but you. I love you so much, Elle, I'd be humbled and honoured to have you as my wife in the future. Will you marry me?"

With a proposition like that, how could anyone refuse?

They made their long engagement known in school the next day. It was only when Sharpay saw the glistening diamond on Gabriella's left hand, did she know it was game over. Which left her here. With an empty plate of cookies, and half a teacup full of cold tea.