Author: TheNewKidd.

Story: Part of Your World

Rating: M; For language, violence, substance mentionings and possible sexual content.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, and any original characters that may be mentioned in this story.

Summary: Troy Bolton is a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Gabriella Montez is the over privileged princess that falls for him.

Author's Note:Yeah, I know a lot of people have stories based on The O.C, but I still decided to write one, although I think mine is very different from the others. It is only based very, very loosely on the show, and if I may say so, I actually think it's nothing like the show. A small portion of the set-up is based, but the rest is truly original. Troy is slightly based on Ryan Atwood, the troubled lifestyle, I mean, and although he and Gabriella will have a romance in this story, she is not based on Marissa Cooper. Taylor is not based on Summer Roberts, and Chad is not based on Seth Cohen. Sharpay, nor Ryan, Zeke, or Kelsi, or any other characters from the movie are not based on characters in the show. I apologize ahead of time, if anyone feels this story is similar to another on this site, because I promise, this idea for this particular is an original, and I am not sure if it has similarities to any other stories already published.

"Get your ass up,Troy."

What a lovely alarm clock. A slam of Troy Bolton's bedroom door swinging open, his father's drunken yell, the crash of a beer bottle against his wall. The usual. It was sad to say that Troy was used to this.

"I said get your ass up, you little prick."

The blanket that had been draped across Troy's body was gone now, his father ripping it off angrily. He then flicked on the light. Troy's hazy view rested on his clock beside his bed.

"It's two-thirty,Dad. I'm not getting up. You can beat the shit out of me in about seven more hours." Troy shouldn't have been stupid. He knew better than to argue with his father. The back of his long, shaggy brown hair was suddenly twisted into a knot around Jack Bolton's knuckles, and he was being yanked from his bed, with a groan of pain, which was ignored by Jack.

"I don't care what time it is, boy. You do as I say, and you don't ask questions. Understand?"

Troy clenched his teeth and pushed his father off of him. Jack made a move to grab him again, but stopped himself with a dark chuckle. Though, that wouldn't have been the first time they got into a fist fight. They usually happened in this same story line. Jack comes in drunk, wakes Troy, and they have a smackdown either until Jack passes out mid-swing, or Jack is knocked out by Troy, who always pays for it the next morning.

"We don't have time for your bullshit, Troy. Get dressed," Jack commanded, throwing a pair of jeans into Troy's face. "The cops are on their way."

Great, Troy thought, Again. For the third time this month, the police were on their way to the Bolton house. Troy wondered what it was about this time, although he had a pretty good idea. Drugs. That's all it was ever about.

"What did you do this time, Jack? Steal something? Fuck with Bronco again? I told you he was going to turn you in next time." Troy snapped anyways, which earned a hard glare from his father. Bronco was the biggest drug dealer that anyone knew of in the state of New Mexico. Jack Bolton worked for him occasionally, until something happened, and Jack never got back on Bronco's good side.

"Shut the fuck up and get dressed. Pack a bag, too. We're meeting Trevor in Mexico." Jack chucked a blue duffel bad at his son.

Troy smirked, shaking his head as he shoved random items into the duffel. He should have known. Trevor Bolton, the older Bolton brother. Jack's pride and joy, mainly because they had so much in common. They were both disgusting, junkie, criminals. Trevor had fled to Cancun a year ago, when a drug deal went a little overboard.And that's where they were fleeing to now, probably for the exact reasons.

"Shit!" Jack yelled suddenly, and Troy froze. He heard them too-The sirens. "Let's go! Now!Hurry up and get outside to the car!"

Troy didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed his jacket, and the bag, running out the front door on Jack's heels. A 2007 Suburban was parked in the front year, and it defiantly didn't belong to them.

"Dad? How the hell did you get this?" Troy yelled, jumping into the passengers seat anyways. Jack slammed the driver's side door,jammed the key into the ignition and started the engine.

"How the hell do you think I got this, smart ass? Now shut the fuck up and quit asking dumb questions."

The Suburban sped backwards, rolling over the Bolton mailbox, but Jack didn't look back. He pushed the car into 'drive' and took off down the crowded trailer park street at about eighty.

The sirens were much louder now, painfully loud, and Troy could see the red and blue flashes in the rearview mirror.

"Hurry up, dad!" Troy yelled over the sirens and roaring car engine. He glanced at the speedometer. They were already going 115 mph. The engine was red-lining. They didn't have a chance at getting away from the cops, that were dangerously close now, starting to pull up beside the end of the suburban. The engine was going to explode any minute.

"Fuck!" Jack Bolton exclaimed, turning his head to the side to get a better look at the approaching car. Before Troy knew what was going on, Jack Bolton had pulled a pistol from under the seat of the Suburban, rolled down the window and fired three shots.

"Dad! What the fuck!" Troy screamed. His father had gone crazy. He may have been in a lot of jams before, but Jack Bolton had never done something so truly bad, to the cops. He'd never fired at them before, so Troy had no idea what his father was doing. Jack Bolton was hanging halfway out of the window, firing an entire round on the Oakland County Police Department. Troy grabbed onto his father's shoulder pulling, until Jack finally came back inside a little. His head was still out of the window, not paying attention to the road.

It all happened rather fast after that.

Troy heard two more gunshots, but they weren't coming from his father's pistol. He felt the suburban sink in the back, from the tire blow out. He was jerked to the right as the car swerved, bumping off of the road, he saw the bright flash of a streetlight before the suburban flew into the pole at full speed. He screamed with the impact, covered his face with his arms as the glass shards jabbed in his direction, heard the sickening crunch of his leg being crushed between the fallen dashboard and the leather suburban seat. Everything was hazy, after that, and so quiet that Troy could hear the crickets. The sirens were gone now, but Troy could still see the blue and red flashes in his cloudy vision. Even through his tears of pain, the blue figure lurking next to his window was unmistakable.

"Oakland County Police Department. You are being placed under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law."

Author's Note: So. My new story. Tell me what you think (: