A/N: Hey people! :)
I know I have the two other stories going on, but I had this in my mind and I had to write it, but don't worry because this will be only a three/four/five-shot, okay? My main focus are my other two stories but you know how this works…sometimes, because of what you're living or because what you're seeing, your imagination flows and then you have a little plot inside of your head… LOL I know that I'll feel better once I have it posted, so here it goes!
Here is chapter 1. Enjoy! :)
'You can't play basketball anymore; if you continue with your career and you hurt your knee again, you won't be able to recover and then you won't be able to walk anymore.'
His dreamed life had been to be a professional basketball player; everything he'd done in his life had been only to reach his purpose, sacrificing friends, girls and family in the process. He breathed basketball, he lived only for basketball because the only thing he wanted was to be a pro in the sport he loved more than anything in the world.
While being at school and high school, he'd been a machine, a jerk only focused in basketball and studies so he could have a full scholarship, and he'd reached his goal when, at the age of eighteen, a man approached him after one game and offered him a full scholarship to play basketball in the best university of the United States. Girls threw themselves at him, and he would catch them, make out or fuck them, leave them and forget them – that was his modus operandi, and he knew his attitude was being all but the one he should have had, but he didn't care because none of them were more important than basketball, none of them made him realize about the rich misery that was waiting for him in the future.
To accept the scholarship wasn't difficult; even knowing he would live in the opposite coast of where his family and friends lived, he said yes the same moment the man ended the speech of his proposition. The decision meant to lose his friends, but he didn't care; his team mates, but specially Chad – his best friend since kindergarten – got angry because their dream was to continue playing basketball together and only for fun, but he shrugged his shoulders at them knowing that his dream was far away from theirs; only his parents and his family supported him but that was enough.
It had to be.
His dream depended on it.
Being at college, his popularity increased; he'd always been the most popular guy, the one all the boys wanted to be and the one all the girls wanted to date – or at least fuck – and he was used to get attention. However, while being at college this same popularity reached incredible levels…and he was proud of it, because he'd been working his ass off in order to get the recognition he was beginning to get.
When college ended he had a lot of offers on his table but he didn't need to think too much about them; the Los Angeles' Lakers, his favourite team ever, offered him a spot in the team, and was only a matter of seconds for him to sign his contract and begin this new stage of his dreamed life.
Everything he'd dreamed about was beginning a reality, a proof that his efforts had been worthy…until now.
Because now, at the age of twenty eight, and after six years as a member of the Lakers, he'd seen how his career ended because of a bad fall while playing one of the most important games of the season; he broke his knee and after two desperate surgeries the doctors told him that the full recovering was impossible, but not only that – in a strange city (maybe he'd lived there six years, but all the people he knew were related to basketball in one way or another, and he needed to keep himself away from it), with no friends, with no girlfriend and with a huge house only for himself, Troy Bolton saw his dream falling apart.
He had the fame, the money and the looks, but when his dream ended, he'd realized that those things were totally useless when you don't have anyone to share them with, because he had no one; his parents began to go to Los Angeles less and less seeing how his life was too busy with the sport, the competition, the need to be the best one and so one day the stopped their monthly visits to only go twice during the year seeing he didn't have time or will to be with them while they were in LA with him. Troy, in the other hand, never had time to go back to Alburquerque so the relationship with them was all but "normal".
The sudden realization had been like a cold shower; only when the doctors told him the news, the team told him they didn't need him anymore – in a kind, but still hurtful way –, the girls stopped their drooling over him and the media attention died he'd realize he only was a young rich guy who had no one and was completely alone.
But it was too late now because the harm was already done.
His appearance, his looks were the worst they'd been, ever - since the day the doctors told him the news, to shave hadn't been in his mind, his eyes were dull, with huge and purple bags under them and his hair seemed to be touched by a tornado every day - not that he cared about it. Even his sleep was affected by the fatidic news: he'd barely slept, having continuous nightmares...or weird dreams where a girl's voice - a voice he didn't recognize - asked him for help desperately.
Precisely, those "weird" dreams increased its number with the time went by; it seemed that his mind wanted for him to pay attention to that, as if his mind was trying to make him remember something...without luck - the voice was stranger, foreign. Maybe he shouldn't think so much about them because the girl was unknown, but in a weird way, those dreams were something that had him bothered, that worried him, that brought some kind of uneasiness in his heart he couldn't comprehend.
But maybe that was what he deserved after his behaviour; maybe it was the way God had to punish him for letting the fame, the glory and the popularity overcame and possess him.
All his life was in boxes now.
After knowing he couldn't play basketball anymore and that his team wanted to do nothing with him, Troy decided to go back to Alburquerque, with his family, because Los Angeles didn't have anything to hold him back anymore.
It'd been three days only occupied with packing his belongings; photographs, medals, coups, clothes…all his "fantastic" and glamorous life had been reduced to a bunch of carton boxes full of things that only would be a reminder of who he was in the future, because he had no feelings nor emotions to put into those same boxes – the glamour his life had added some brightness in his dark life, but now that he didn't have it, his life was even darker, because he knew now what he could have had…but didn't have.
An old photograph took his attention; it was one of his older team while being at high school: The Wildcats. Chad, Jason and Zeke were his best friends…or maybe the only people who knew him since kindergarten and knew about his dream. Because he knew, deep down, that the word "friends" wasn't true; friendship was something unknown for Troy, because his only friend had been his basketball. He'd been in a lot of parties thrown in his honour because of his game, he'd had sex with a lot of girls…but he actually had no one in his life apart from his family – and he was beginning to doubt they were really there – simply because he hadn't taken care of the people who cared about him when it mattered.
He had no idea where the guys were or which were their jobs; he knew neither of them wanted to pursue his dream of to be a pro, but he realized, with a pang of guilt, that he had no idea about which were their hobbies or interests; he'd never asked them about their weekends, about their girlfriends, about their holidays…and he didn't because he thought those things weren't important, because he thought that those things were stupid distractions he couldn't afford. But he was seeing now how wrong he'd been.
Because he now was craving a friend, a girlfriend…a person who really cared about him for him, not his fame, money, popularity or look. But this person didn't exist simply because he'd been too busy to live.
The sound of the phone echoed in the almost empty living room and Troy stood up from the ground to pick it up.
"Hello?"
"Hey son," Lucille Bolton's chirpy voice arrived from the other side of the line, and he couldn't help but miss her so much – her tender hugs, her soft kisses, her lullabies…everything was something he thought was stupid when he had them, but now that he didn't have them were the things he craved desperately.
"Mom," Troy sighed into the phone, feeling peace inside of him for the very first time in days. "How are you?"
Lucille picked up his melancholic tone. "Are you okay, sweetie?" Maybe he hadn't been the perfect and caring son, but he was her only son, and the pride she felt for of his achievements never disappeared.
"No," Troy whispered. "I miss you, mom…"
His eyes were burning with tears now; all the fears and emotions he'd been keeping in the bottom of his core those days were overcoming him in the widest way. The embarrassment he'd felt when he'd realized that he had no one because he hadn't worked on that, the sadness that overcame his heart when the doctor told him he couldn't play anymore, the rage he'd felt when everyone turned their backs on him when he wasn't the golden boy anymore…everything was fighting to escape, and he realized he didn't want to hold back anymore.
And he cried.
And cried.
Finding comfort only hearing the soft breathing of his mother in the other side of the phone; maybe he had no one to lean on while he cried, but in that same moment, crying to his mom over the phone, he realized that she was there…that she'd never left his side.
"Oh sweetie," Lucille whispered. "Don't cry…you're fine, you will be fine…and I'm here, Troy…"
The last part of her sentence, barely whispered, arrived at his ears loud and clear. "I need you so much now, mom, so so much…"
"I'll be in the airport tomorrow morning, sweetie," Lucille gushed softly. "I'll be the first thing you'll see, I promise…"
"But now…" Troy whispered. "I'm alone, mom; I have no friends, no girlfriend…it's been a lot since I saw you and dad…and…my world, the only life I've known, has disappeared…and…I don't know if I'll be able to step out of this hole…"
"Stop that nonsense, Troy," Lucille said sternly. "You are not alone; maybe you've been wrong forgetting to fill your heart not only with a passion but also the love and care every human need, but you're not alone. I and your dad are proud of you, Troy, and we're here…and we won't go anywhere. Everyone makes mistakes, son, and now you're learning from the ones you've made. That's not bad, sweetie, because you're realizing about those mistakes and you, probably, won't make them anymore. Think in positive, you hear me? You've lived incredible experiences…and you have to keep them in your memory, not only because they can teach you a huge lesson but because you've lived things that a lot of people won't live, ever…"
"For what, mom?" Troy asked bitterly now. "I've had those wonderful experiences but still I'm here, sitting alone in my house, packing all my things and realizing that everything I took for granted has disappeared of my life…"
"That's the real life, Troy," Lucille said softly. "I already can see something good coming from this mess. Do you want to know what that is?" Troy remained silent and Lucille rolled her eyes. "Don't be so drama queen and hear your crazy mother with attention, is that clear?"
"Yes, mom," Troy had to give her credit because she'd been the only one person able to steal a little smile from him in weeks.
"This is the first time in years we've been talking for a while; this is the first time in years that you've talked about your feelings; this is the first time you have admitted you've been wrong…" Lucille took a deep breathe. "And this is the very first time when I've felt you close to me in years."
Troy didn't say anything for a while, thinking about his mother's words; of course, she was right, and to be able to lean on her was being something totally new but refreshing at the same time, something that warmed his heart, something that glued the pieces of his broken soul again, something that made him feel loved and important again, but not important in a "famous celebrity" way but in a deeper way – in a way that made him realize that, in life, not everything was about what you have but about who you are.
"I can't wait to hug you, mom," Troy admitted lowly, feeling embarrassment ran through his body at the corny admission.
Lucille giggled and Troy smiled at the sound. "Good to know because tomorrow you'll be shaking me off of you when we're at the airport…"
Troy chuckled. "Thank you, mom…"
"Anytime, sweetie," she smiled sincerely knowing that her son, the one who had feelings, the one who had a heart, was back. "Have a safe flight tomorrow, okay? Love you!"
"I love you too, mom," Troy swallowed aloud – it'd been years since he told her, or anyone for that matter, that, and though it was weird, was also amazing.
Slipping on his sunglasses, Troy waited until the last passenger of the plane stepped out for him to stand up. It'd been a weird trip; the plane was full of kids but still not even one of them had asked him for a pic or an autograph, and he knew for a fact that they had seen him because he'd heard the comments. That brought a bittersweet sensation to his insides; bitter sensation because all his efforts of all these years had been for nothing when his career had ended, and sweet because, maybe, that would mean no media attention over him, screaming his fail.
When he'd arrived at LAX airport, the normal bunch of paps was there; only one had taken a picture of him, only one fucking picture. The rest of them had seen him, had looked at him…and had ignored him. Of course that was his fault too; his relationship with the media only was good when it came to basketball – before and after the games – and some random interview he would do with an important journalist. At the beginning things hadn't been like that; at first paps followed him everywhere, and the truth was that they were annoying as hell, but then, one day there weren't paps following him.
And he realized he missed them in a some weird way.
But, deep down, Troy knew it was his fault, because who could blame them?
Who wanted to pursue and follow a person who was rude with them?
Who wanted to pursue and follow a person who never smiled at them?
Who wanted to pursue and follow a person who was a complete jerk?
Exactly.
Thanking the services at the crew of the plane, Troy went to the terminal to wait for his luggage; almost everything had been sent by mail so he only had two suitcases with him, and he was thankful for that, because he didn't want to be there alone but surrounded by people who stared at him, who whispered about him, who saw firsthand how miserable he really was out of the popular world.
Luckily for him, his luggage appeared at the very beginning, and so he was able to escape from this hell sooner than he expected; stepping outside the doors, Troy wasn't able to register anything of his surroundings because suddenly two warm arms appeared from god-knows-where and wrapped themselves around his torso, pulling him into a tight hug. "Don't you look handsome, sweetie?" Lucille gushed in his ear.
Troy smiled sincerely and dropped the luggage when he realized his mother was the one hugging him, and wrapped his arms around her, as tight as he could, feeling peace invade him. "I've missed you so much, mom…" Something damped his shirt and he knew she was crying – well, he was about to cry too.
"What?" A deep manly voice arrived from behind. "Your old father doesn't have a hug?"
Chuckling, Troy disentangled from his mother and hugged his father, forgetting he was in public and letting himself to show the emotions his heart was feeling. "I've missed you too, dad…"
"You're at home now, Troy, you're at home," Jack said lowly with a special edge in his voice.
And Troy understood him. "I love you, dad…"
----------
"Mom," Troy whined. "Stop that, I'm a big boy now who know how to unpack…"
"Sure you do," Lucille scoffed. "The same way you know how to pack, right? Because your suitcase is a mess!"
Troy rolled his eyes, even though inwardly his heart was soaring in happiness. "Suit yourself, but there's no need to unpack everything. I'm buying a house here, remember?"
"Are you sure you want to buy another house this soon?" Lucille asked in a low voice full of sadness. "You've just arrived…"
Troy sighed and went to sit beside his mother, on his bed. "Mom, I'm twenty eight and…I need my space, can you understand that? But I'll be coming over every other day, and I promise you that I'll have dinner here once per week for sure, and then we'll have the weekends…"
"I understand that, is just…" Lucille sighed. "Look, I know that can sound selfish but…now that I have you back, I don't want to lose you…"
Troy wrapped his arms around his mother's torso and leaned his head in her chest. "You won't lose me, mom, I'll be living here, working here and everything here. Believe me when I say I don't want to live the same I lived in LA. I want and need my family with me now…"
Lucille smiled. "I'm proud of you," she kissed his forehead softly and Troy closed his eyes at the feeling of his mother's soft lips touching his skin. "I'm going to prepare something for dinner. If you don't want to unpack everything, at least unpack the clothes…"
"Will do," Troy grinned at her – he was feeling like a little boy again, and the feeling was amazing.
The door of his room closed and Troy let his back fall onto the mattress, sighing tiredly when he realized the hectic day that was waiting for him – go to his old school and high school and see which his chances of being a PE teacher there were, go to the Real State Agency and look for a house – and also fearing the moment he would face everyone in Alburquerque; he couldn't forget he left the city being a star…but he'd come back being a no one.
High school or school.
That was the dilemma Troy had in front of him.
The first thing he did after he woke up was to call to the Real State Agency, and he would meet with someone that same afternoon to look the houses they had available, and having the problem of the "place to live" solved, now it was turn of the "place to work" problem.
Part of him didn't want to go to his old school; the reason was that his popularity, his fame, his almost celebrity status had been bigger in high school. His achievements there had been amazing, and so he felt as if they had to be grateful to him for his returning to there. Another part of him, though, wanted nothing to do with his old self; a new and fresh start was what he wanted and needed, a new start far away from who he was when he began to be a jerk.
Though in his school days he only breathed basketball, there everything was more laid back and relaxed; he would meet with his "friends" and they would play not only for practice new moves but also because it was fun. This stage of his life was the most innocent one, where the future was still too far away as to really think and worry about it; those were the moments when he was Troy, the basketball player, but also Troy, the simple kid.
In high school everything changed.
And that last thought was everything he needed to make a decision.
----------
After a quick phone call, Troy drove from his house to the place he hoped would be where he would work; parking his car in the parking lot, Troy gulped loudly before he stepped outside of his car; his hands were shaking, his heart was beating frantically, a cold sweat enveloped his body and his breathing came in gasps – he was nervous as hell.
The big building in front of him brought old memories back – the bench where he and his friends would sit while waiting each other before classes started so they could play a little game, the old court where he spent a lot of incredible and amazing moments, the metallic doors that had behind all the materials they used while they were in PE class, the swings…and then a smile tugged the corner of his lips.
Yeah, he'd made the best decision.
----------
"Troy?" A deep manly voice said with surprise. "Troy Bolton?"
Instinctively, Troy turned his head and gasped in surprise; the big afro was still the same, and he still had the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Chad!"
"Troy, my man!" Chad stepped forward and Troy closed the distance between them, enveloping the man in a hug. "What are you doing here?"
Stepping away, Troy shrugged; the happiness he'd felt at the beginning became nervousness and embarrassment – it was a fact that Troy had gone far away following his dream forgetting everything and everyone from his past, and now he was back, with no fame, with no popularity…like a simple man. "Well, I'm living here now…" Troy answered awkwardly somehow.
"I heard about your knee," Chad shook his head. "I'm sorry man…"
"Well," Troy tensed his shoulders trying to show a confidence he wasn't feeling at all. "Shit happens…"
Chad narrowed his eyes. "Oh please, don't you remember I can read you like an open book?"
Troy's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
"Fuck Troy," Chad hissed. "Don't go all "confident and superior man" with me because it won't work; give me some credit man, I've known you all my life…"
Troy didn't know what to say; of course he was aware that he and Chad had been, probably, the closest from their group, but still it felt weird to admit that aloud…when Troy had nothing to be proud of.
Seeing Troy was still in silence, Chad shook his head. "You know what, forget it."
Turning around, Chad began to walk away from Troy, who was looking at him dumbfounded…until something clicked in his brain: he didn't want to lose Chad again. "Chad, wait!" The black man turned around and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Troy to make the first move. "I'm sorry, okay? I've been more than a jerk with you, and you're right, I'm not fine; everything I've fought for in my life has disappeared and now I don't have anything but a bunch of fucking memories that never will be true again…"
"What the fuck are you saying?" Chad looked at Troy incredulous. "Are you really telling me that being a member of the Lakers, winning each championship you've played in, going to those glamorous events, knowing all the people you've known…is nothing?"
"Well," Troy shifted uncomfortable.
"Hear me, man, hear me," Chad shook his head in disbelief. "The fact that you can't play basketball professionally anymore, and the fact that all this glamorous way of life has ended…doesn't mean you don't have anything now; you have your memories, you can be, and have to be, proud of them because you're only twenty eight, and you've had a life that's the dream of a lot of people. Little kids wanted to be you, and yeah, it's a fucking shit that once you're not in the team again all of that has disappeared, but your memories are yours, and they will be with you forever. Don't let the superficiality destroy them because that's not worthy."
The words Chad spoke so vehemently really penetrated in Troy's brain; what if paps weren't following him anymore? What if he couldn't go to boring and long awards ceremonies anymore? What if he wouldn't be surrounded by fake people anymore? His dream – to be a pro – had been his reality for years, and now it was time for him to let the dream go; he'd lived it and now he could enjoy the results of his efforts or be miserable about them.
Actually, and thinking about it in a deeper way, Troy realized that the glamour that surrounded his life was everything but enjoyable; maybe he'd had fun while being at a party, maybe he'd met incredible and hot models and actresses, maybe he'd had a lot of easy fucks but…in the end, he'd been alone all along. He only found comfort while being in the court, playing, sweating his number, throwing the ball through the net time after time, thinking and anticipating the opponent's move…while playing basketball he'd felt alive, and maybe he was not a professional basketball player anymore, but the sport, the love for basketball was still inside of him; maybe he wouldn't play in a professional court anymore…but he still could enjoy the sport itself because that had been his ultimate goal all his life.
"I'd never think about it this way," Troy admitted shyly. "Thank you," he reached out his hand and waited for Chad to grab it with a smile on his face. "And I'm truly sorry," he continued when Chad gave him a high five, "I shouldn't have let the fame and all this crap to control me the way it did. I was so focused in my dream…in reach my dreamed life…that I forgot to live my real life…"
"No worries man," Chad shrugged. "Maybe you were a jerk, but the fact that you've realized about it…well, says a lot about who you really are." Chad patted Troy's pack friendly. "Plus, you were following your dream; some got disappointed you forgot about us so quickly but…I can assure you that, deep deep down, I understood you."
"You did?" Troy asked shocked.
Chad nodded. "Yeah, your dream was totally out of my league but, in a way, you and I were the same: we followed our dreams, doesn't matter which dreams those were, until we reached our goals."
"You lost me," Troy said frowning.
Chad chuckled. "Well, my dream was to be a doctor, a paediatrician, and keep my relationship with Taylor alive. I had to go to another state, we were four years separated, but we fought for our dream and…well, now we're married and we have a precious little boy called Sam."
Troy widened his eyes. "Taylor? As in Taylor McKessie? The President of the Decathlon Team? The one you were in love with and never told her? That Taylor McKessie?"
"Yeah," Chad nodded. "I told her two months or so before we finished our senior year, we began dating…and since then we've been together."
"Wow," Troy gasped in surprise. "I had no idea about that…"
"You left school three months before it ended because of your scholarship, Troy," Chad admitted lowly, not wanting to dig too much into the past.
"Oh right," Troy shifted uncomfortably again.
"Daddy!" A little black boy passed by Troy running until he grabbed Chad's legs tightly with his little arms.
"Hey Sam," Chad picked the toddler up and kissed his cheek. "How are you, champ?"
"Fine," Sam smiled. "Where is mommy?"
"At home," Chad smiled. "Look, this is an old friend of daddy, he's called Troy, say hi," he ordered softly.
"Hi," Sam said shyly. "My name is Sam…"
Troy couldn't help but smile at the little kid; he was adorable. "Hi Sam, nice to meet you…" Troy said reaching out his hand for the kid to grab it and shaking his when the kid did so.
"Daddy can we go now?" Sam clapped his small hands, making both adults laugh.
"Sure," Chad kissed his son's cheek and lowered him, taking his hand instead. "Sorry Troy," Chad said turning to look at Troy. "We have to go now; we're going to spend the weekend with Taylor's parents and we'll have a three hours trip in front of us."
"So that's the reason because of you're skipping class, uh?" Troy winked at Sam who chuckled and nodded his head.
"I'm sorry man," Chad sighed. "I'd like to talk more with you; how about we meet next week? Say…on Monday?"
Troy nodded his head. "Sure," he answered smiling sincerely. "Here's my cell; call me and so we talk about the details, okay? I'm free every day, so tell me a time and a place and it'll be good."
"Perfect then," Chad smiled. "Come on Sam, tell Troy goodbye…"
"Goodbye, Troy," Sam said politely.
"Goodbye buddy," Troy smiled at the kid. "We'll call each other next week, okay?"
Nodding, Chad smiled. "Sure, bye!"
When Chad disappeared from his view, Troy turned to look at the main doors and sighed; seeing Chad's behaviour with him had given him courage – maybe the life he'd known until then had ended but that didn't mean his life had ended too; he was still alive, he had the memories that were proof of what he'd lived, he had a family which supported him, he had the chance to rebuild the friendships he lost in the past…and everything told him that his life hadn't ended but…changed.
Taking a deep breathe, Troy walked to the main building where the old principal was waiting for him.
And he realized that he had to keep the reins of his life tightly between his hands; fame and popularity had ruled his world, but that had ended and he had to learn to be only a simple man. It'd be difficult, but he wasn't alone now; for the very first time, Troy realized that he preferred to not have the fame, the social status, the fans, the media attention…because all of that was nothing compared with the feeling of to have your family with you, your friends with you…to have the real world around you.
Now or never.
When Troy woke up on Saturday, he felt as if a tough weight had been lifted from his shoulders, probably because he had a job now; the principal of his old school had been more than glad when Troy exposed to him his wish of being the new PE teacher there – precisely, the old one had retired some months ago and so the job was available.
Knowing Troy's career, the principal hadn't had a doubt and so both men tied up all the details: schedule, timetable, program, lists of pupils, pay…so Troy could begin the next Monday.
And now, then, his only worry was to find a house he could call "home"; he'd agreed to meet with someone from the Real State Agency that same morning so he could see everything they had available for him to buy it. He'd been thinking about that and he'd decided to settle, finally, in Alburquerque again, near his family and friends. His life was now there, far away from the pomposity of Los Angeles…but closer to what his heart needed so desperately – people who cared about him for him, for who he was.
Standing up, Troy went downstairs and found his parents eating breakfast. "Morning, guys!"
"Morning son," Lucille said smiling when Troy leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Sit down, honey, I'll give you a coffee…"
"No way," Troy protested pushing her downwards again. "You were eating, I'll prepare something. I'm not hungry anyways…"
Jack chuckled when he saw the glare Lucille sent their son. "Oh Troy, I want to know how you're going to escape from this mess…"
"What? Why?" Troy asked confused. "Ouch!" He said when he felt his mother slapping his nape. "What was that for?"
"Have you forgotten her obsession with breakfast being the most important meal in the day?" Jack shook his head mockingly. "You can't to not eat anything for breakfast…"
Troy widened his eyes and smiled charmingly and his mother. "Sorry mom…I'm going to eat a lot…" Lucille continued glaring at him and Troy began to walk backwards. "I promise mom, I'm not going to protest; I'll eat whatever you make me eat…"
Lucille narrowed her eyes playfully at her son. "Whip that stupid grin off of your face!" Troy grinned even more charmingly at her and Lucille lifted her eyes. "Gosh, you're still as impossible as your father is!" She exclaimed exasperatedly
"Hey!" Jack protested. "What have I done now?"
Troy dissolved in a fit of chuckles; man, how he'd missed these playful banters between his parents, the laugh echoing in the rooms, the aroma of a really homemade breakfast…he'd never paid attention to those details while he'd had them, but now that he'd been without them for so long, the warmness that invaded him, the softness he couldn't help but feel, made him realize how much he'd missed.
"Thank you, guys," he said lowly making both to look at him with questioning eyes.
"For what?" Jack asked after sharing a look with his wife.
"For letting me be your son again," Troy said softly, his eyes glistering with tears.
Lucille rushed to his side and enveloped him in a hug. "You always will be our son, Troy, don't ever doubt that…" She kissed his cheek sweetly. "And now," she continued swallowing the lump in her throat, "go and eat everything I'm going to put in your plate, young man," she said sternly but with a smile in her face.
The threesome talked and talked all the time, making up for the lack of conversations they had had in all those years Troy had been living in Los Angeles, enjoying their company, rediscovering each other and re-knowing each other; even though at first things had been awkward somehow, in the end the conversation between them got easier – jokes, anecdotes, stories…everything helped them to tight their bond as a family.
And the three adults relished in the incredible, special, awesome and perfect feeling that to be a family again brought to their hearts.
"Hi, my name's Troy Bolton," he greeted the old woman who stood behind the desk of the Real State Agency's hall.
"Good morning," the old woman smiled at him kindly, not showing if she knew who he was or not. "Take a sit there and I'll call your agent now."
"Thank you," Troy returned the soft smile and went to sit and wait in the sofa as he was told.
He observed the old woman talking with someone – his agent, he guessed – by the phone, and then the door in his left opened, appearing a gorgeous and petite brunette, with incredible long and tanned legs, with two incredible brown eyes, with two perfect cheeks, with silky long and curly brown hair and the most perfect smile he'd ever seen…a smile that became a frown when she saw who he was...and recognized him.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?"