Chapter one- Death Day

A/N- I thought about just writing this story for myself, doing original characters and everything, but I didn't think I could pull it out that long. So, here you have it. Yet another brand spankin' new story for me. So enjoy!

Oh, and also, I would just basically forget whatever you knew about the HSM characters. Because in this, they're pretty much all different.

Today, as I like to call it, is Death Day. Today, I'm standing in the back of a crowded church, full of people in black clothing, all crying, whispering, sulking, mourning. And here I am, in a purple free flowing summer dress. And I'm not crying. And I'm not sulking. And I'm not even mourning. And the thing that would probably kill all of the people in this room- I'm not feeling guilty.

Today, my father is in a casket, ready to burried beneath the ground, 6 feet under exactly. And me? Am I upset? No. Am I going to go home and cry all night and remember all the wonderful time we had together? No. You know why? Because I met this man maybe a total of three times in my life. And to me...that doesn't mean very much.

I'm not saying he was a bad guy. I'm not saying that he was good either. Because honestly, how would I know? He was never in my life and he never tried to be. So, now, here I am. At his funeral. In the back of the church. In my purple dress. And no tears on my cheeks. And everyone is looking at me like I have no emotion in me. Like I'm inhuman. And I knew this would be a disaster.

"Shar," Ryan's voice was hushed as he stood in front of me. He looked concerned, but frustrated. He looked like he needed to breathe. "Mom wants you to come to the front."

"Why?" I asked, runing a hand through my hair, a zing on my scalp as my I felt the ring on my finger.

He rolled his eyes, playing with his tie, loosening it and then tightening it again. "It's the proper thing."

Another eye roll.

"I don't care about proper. I don't care that-"

"He's dead?"

He caught my gaze and I shook my head. "Of course I care. I'm just not tramatized by it, okay? I didn't know him. He didn't know me. These people want a show that I'm not willing to give today."

He nodded his head. He understood. "Well, I'm gonna be up there with Mom. You'll be okay?"

I smirked, leaning back against the wall that was cold on what small amount of my bare back was unconvered. "I always am."

Once Ryan had left to the front of the church, I slinked back a bit, sighing. I brought my nails to my lips, ready to bite away when I realized I had quit doing that a year ago and I was finally getting them to grow out nicely like I wanted.

And then I basically felt like shit.

Then I start wondering just how many people (maybe 100) in this room that knew my dad better than I did. A stranger would know him better than me.

"Sucky, huh?"

I turned to see who my new fresh face was. He was tall, bronze, and over all, very handsome. Kind of classic looking guy, really. He was leaning against the wall, next to me, a drink in his hand that he occasionally sipped from, his eyes straight forward.

I nodded, turning back to the preacher in the front of the church too. He was talking to my mom at the moment. And good ol' Mom was putting on quite a performance of her own.

"Death is always sucky. But I guess we all go through it at some point."

He looked at me this time, his eyes a screaming blue. "Were you close to him?"

For some reason, I considered my answer. "No. Barely knew him. How'd you know him?"

"Friend of my dad's."

And he probably knew him better than I did. "Huh."

"How about you?"

I shrugged, looking at him with a sly smile. "He was my dad."

He suddenly seemed shaken and fluttered. "Oh. I'm so-"

"Don't," I told him, holding up a hand to stop him. "I'm fine. I wasn't lying when I said I barely knew him." He nodded and it was silent for a moment. "What's your name mystery funeral dude?"

He smirked a bit. "Troy Bolton. And yourself?"

"Sharpay Evans. Feel free to call me anything but my actually name, because it's for dogs and I'm quite positive my mother was doing drugs while thinking of baby names. Which is a weird concept, you know? They have these baby name books all over. But what happens when the baby is no longer a baby and it's then a todler, and a teenager, and what about adult? Will the name GeeGee get you through life or just your first few years? That's all I'm saying."

He was looking at me weird. "I have a feeling you say a lot."

I smiled this time. "I kind of do. Plus, everyone in here, besides you obviously, knows who I am. And they're expecting something of me. And what do I have to give them? Nada. Not a thing. And when they leave here, they'll all be dissipointed and thinking how much of a brat I may be."

"I'm sure that's the last thing they'll be thinking."

"You're right. They'll be thinking about the loss of their dear friend. And I'm just self centered and overly critical of people, and quite frankly, I can't breathe."

This awoke him, as he grabbed my arm, and pulled me through the door. As soon as we were out I leaned against the wall, my hands on my knees, breathing hard. "My dress is purple," I laughed suddenly, taking us both by surprise.

"Are you having a nervous breakdown?"

I waved him off. "I have those all the time. This is just a realization. My mom didn't want me to wear this dress. I mean, I have black ones, but that's so depressing. I always perfered to stand out, though. Also my biggest weakness."

He was looking at me again. His eyes soft. "Are you going to be okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Fine. I always am. You can go back in if you want. I'm okay out here."

He shook his head, stepping beside me. "Nah. I perfer it out here. Funerals are things people try their best to avoid in life. Because they know that's how there's is going to end."

"Not mine. I refuse to have a funeral. I'm going to be on a mountain somewhere, take a dive, and just watch the view on the way down. If I'm lucky, no one will even know where all the pieces landed."

"And you don't find that the least bit morbid?"

"Death in general is always morbid. Why not die how you want?"

He nodded. I guessed that it was out of understanding. "Are you planning all this sometime soon?"

"Of course not. I'm eighteen. I meant when my health starts failing and I start getting wrinkles."

Troy laughed, his smile of perfection. Then I wouldn't look too closely at your forehead."

I stared at him. "Are you teasing me right now? My dad is dead! We're at his funeral and you're teasing me?"

"Oh, God."

This time, I did the laughing. "Oh, come on. You're so weak."

"You're emotionally damaged. For all I knew you'd go find yourself a mountain right now."

I sobered up a bit and just looked at him. His eyes were insanly intense. "Why do you think I'm emotionally damaged?"

He put on a sad smile. "Your dad just died."

I pushed my bangs behind my ear, nodding as I watched the clouds rolling by in the sky. "Looks like rain."

He checked his phone. "Do you want to go back in there?"

"Ha. No."

He grinned. "Wanna come with me?"

I looked back at the church, imagining the faces, the tears, the black, and then I looked at Troy. "Absolutely. But if I get raped, beaten, or sold to irish people, I'm gonna have to do some ass kicking."

We both stood, him motioning the way to his truck. "I don't think you're allowed to say ass while within close proximity of a church."

I stopped and he turned to me. "You were planning on seeling me to irish people, weren't you?"

He kept a straight face. "Of course not." And as we began walking again, he added, "I was going to sell you to chinese people."

Whatcha think so far? I kind of like the idea, and it will be more interesting later on. These two will have quite the journey together. I think I'll be pretty dedicated to this, if you guys let me know that you like it.

So review people!

Pretty please?

-Peace!