Disclaimer: If I owned High School Musical, Troy and Ryan would be sex...y together. Enough said.
A/N: Cha cha real smooth...
Anyways. Once upon a time, Lor was in Chemistry. A very obnoxious girl sitting next to her had absolutely no manners and was chewing her gum so. very. obnoxiously. Lor about died.
That inspired her to write a series of oneshots of Troypay creative attempts to kill each other.
This doesn't really have a certain time set. It's all in an alternate-HSM reality, where Sharpay despises Troy, and does not throw her self annoyingly at him.
Also, this is just an introduction. The next installation won't continue from here, or else that would make it a chapter-fic, now, wouldn't it?
If you see any mistakes, alert me please! Thank you muchly.
Read && Review, tell me if I should continue or not. I know this part is boring, but the next one is better. At least, I hope...boldyboldyboldyokayi'mdonenow.
How To Kill A Superstar
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock….
She hates repetitive noises. They especially get to her when she's trying to concentrate. He knew that very well, and was constantly using it to his advantage.
She hated him.
She rest her chin in her hand as she gazed down at her non-existent English paper. She was supposed to write three pages on how "To Kill a Mocking Bird" made an impact on her life. Which – in case you were wondering – it didn't.
Tap, tap, tap, tap…
She wrinkled her nose in annoyance, but kept her eyes on the blank paper. The tapping pen against the floor of the stage seemed to echo through the nearly empty theater. There were a few other students from her Study Hall class scattered in the plush red seats, but there were only three on the stage.
Tap, tap, tap…
She let out an annoyed, yet dignified, growl. The tapping stopped almost instantly, making her smile in satisfaction. With that, she finally came up with a witty title for her essay: To Kill a Mockingbird's impact on my life.
The girl grinned as she wrote it in dramatic letters across the top of the page. Her pen began working its magic in scribbling down a generic introduction paragraph.
Click, click, click….
Oh, my God. Now he was clicking that stupid pen. She moved her hand onto her forehead to try and concentrate. She could practically feel his smirk.
She despised that boy.
She slowly raised her eyes to meet his, clenching the pen so tightly her knuckles turned white. He flashed a toothy grin as she narrowed her eyes, raising the pen threateningly.
"Sharpay," he cooed, suddenly looking like an innocent five-year-old. Yet, he failed to stop that incessant clicking sound with his pen.
Sharpay drew her fist back, acting as if she was about to stab his pretty little face. He yelped in fear and quickly dropped his pen, letting it clatter onto the stage and roll towards the edge.
The blonde gracefully stretched her leg that had been folded perfectly over the other, and nudged the pen off the stage with poise.
"Uncalled for," he claimed. She looked back to him, noticing he was pouting.
"Boo hoo, Bolton, like you were working anyways." She flipped her perfectly wavy hair over her shoulder, as if to say the conversation had ended, and began writing again.
Chew, chomp, smack, pop…
Sharpay closed her big brown eyes and hissed through her stylishly clenched teeth. Troy had gone too far this time, and by the way he began chewing his gum even more obnoxiously – if that was possible -, Sharpay could tell he knew it as well.
"Troy," she said calmly, opening her eyes to smile sweetly at him. She slowly raised her pen again, holding it casually between her thumb and index finger.
That seemed to force him to realize something; the peaceful way she acted towards him actually frightened him more than when she was angry.
"That pen could be considered a dangerous weapon…" his voice trailed off as she suddenly gave him the death glare.
"When I'm done with it, it will be." Sharpay snarled deviously.
"I think I should run now." Troy said, more to himself than the girl. He paused a moment, then scrambled to his feet and leapt off the stage.
Sharpay daintily stood and brushed her shimmering dark jeans off. She adjusted her long black leather boots that bore an intricate design with sequins that only she had.
She placidly looked up just in time to see Troy's lean body throw itself into the two doors of the theater and fall through. She smirked and waved cutely when he sat up, looking at her over his shoulder.
He gasped, - rather anti-manishly – rolled out of the way of the door, letting it slam shut. The whole place seemed silent as the other students stared frightfully at her. Someone clapped twice as they stood from there seat on the stage floor behind the Ice Queen.
"Troypay confrontation, man your battle station!"
Sharpay rolled her eyes and turned around, her hands on her hips to look at the one the crudely rhyming statement belonged too. Of course, her twin brother smiled widely at her, obviously proud of his self-assigned job of alerting the world of her and Troy's fights.
"Use a paperclip," he reminded his twin for the millionth time that day, determined not to give up until Bolton was marked forever via paperclip. She adjusted her hot pink headband and smoothed invisible kinks from her matching-hot pink mini dress.
"Only if I run out of ideas." Sharpay nodded before turning and placing one hand on her hip, strutting off the stage and up the aisle of the theater, out the doors Troy had pathetically disappeared through.
Then she saw his face, and the fire extinguisher, just before she was surrounded by a loud whooshing noise and suffocating white foam.
"BOLTON!"
Ah, but it was all just another day at East High.
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