Author's Note: I know I keep saying that I'm going to stop writing, but it's just so darn addicting! I will finish Welcome to the War, I promise you guys that. But this I'm doing for fun, just like Then and Now (though I am a little lost on where I want to go with that one). I thought of this while I was re-watching the first season of Heroes, and figured it would be a fun thing to write about. But anyways, read and review! You know how much I love reviews!

I'm trying to get more reviews. I look at some of these fanfictions that have like 50 reviews for one chapter and 600 overall and I guess I'm jealous. I'm not the type of author that says 'I need this may reviews until I update', honestly I think that's kind of silly. You aren't writing for reviews, you're writing for fun. I hope I will never lose sight of that. But it would be nice to get more reviews, but I can't control that, only you guys can!


Gabriella Montez was so over school spirit.

It was lame.

Girls in short skirts and tight tops screaming out rhyming dialogue to hundreds of people was overrated. Finding excitement in five men bouncing an orange ball down a court was pointless. Having a roster of fifty, but really only having twenty (not counting the players that were on both special teams, defense and offence) participate was inefficient and kicking a soccer ball into an opponent's net was just down right stupid. She didn't enjoy sports in general, but she always seemed dragged into them.

Like today, for example.

The stands underneath her body were shaking from the constant movement of the crowd. She was almost deaf because of the screaming, and yet, she didn't have any excitement running through her system. She was sitting — probable the only one in the crowd that was — her chin propped up on her palm. One knee was crossed over the other and she had her elbow resting on that knee. She was waiting to see if anything was going to happen, and when it did, she couldn't help but roll her eyes.

She though his was going to be different. Or at least more original.

But there was nothing original about the situation she was watching. Her eyes were locked on a very nude Troy Bolton at center court. But as usual no one else noticed his lack of uniform, or clothing in general for that matter. The only thing he had was his red and white basketball shoes, which didn't help much anyway because he was so concerned about covering everywhere else. 

The crowd was cheering just as loud and Gabriella stifled a loud laugh when Chad Danforth walked up behind his captain and gave him a slap on the ass. A common adrenalin booster between men, but that didn't stop Troy from jumping about ten feet in the air.

She almost felt sad for him. The East High Captain's eyes were frantic, blue shooting around the crowded stands for an answer — an explanation — as to why he had no clothes on. Gabriella could have sworn that they lingered on her for a split second — chocolate brown and electric blue — before shooting past. Hell, she was hoping he would have noticed her, anything to make him different from anyone and everyone else.

But he wasn't different because Troy Bolton was having an embarrassment dream. The same dream that Bryce O'Connell, the football captain, had almost every other Thursday. The same dream that all of the other self absorbed, shallow, unimportant jocks at East High had. Troy Bolton was normal, and Gabriella Montez sighed at the fact.

And another thing, Dreamwalking was boring. Well, she couldn't really call it Dreamwalking. She was normally pulled into someone's dream, never really having a choice in the matter. But all the dreams she had walked through were normally the same. Falling dreams, embarrassment dreams, and the occasional happy dream. She had never walked into a nightmare, and wanted to keep it that way. Hers were nasty enough; she couldn't imagine someone else's.

So she tilted her head and let a small smile cross her face. Just because Troy Bolton was normal, that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the view. Right? After all, there was a lot more nudity in this specific basketball game then she recalled, so she shrugged and got comfortable. She crossed her legs on the bleachers and shifted her head into both palms, sighing again. "Another boring dream, Troy Bolton. I thought you were going to show me something different."

Troy never seemed to get over the fact that he was naked. His teammates would toss him the ball, which he would catch and then stand completely still because all eyes were on him.

"Dribble, Troy!" Chad shouted, motioning towards the hoop at the other end of the court. "Come on!"

His blue eyes shot nervously towards the opposite end and he rotated the ball in his hands. After a second passed he tossed it to Jason at the other end of the court outside the three point line, who in turn shot it. The swish sounded and cheers erupted.

Gabriella laughed, applauding the Captain's quick thinking. "Bryce normally fumbles and then gets sacked trying to recover it." Gabriella said out loud, recalling the football captain's priceless face as he tried to claw his way out of the mass of bodies. She shrugged. "Too bad Basketball isn't a contact sport."

Her grin was cut short when she noticed something different. This difference was a man. He wasn't surprisingly tall, or small. He wasn't extremely good looking or out of this world ugly. He appeared normal to everyone else, but he wasn't.

His body posture had given him away almost instantly. Arms crossed across his chest, a baseball cap harbored his head and he wore a thick jacket. He was different because he wasn't cheering; he wasn't screaming crud remarks like the spectators on the other side of the gym, he was doing absolutely nothing. Well, he was doing something. He was watching. Just watching.

Gabriella straightened, tilting her head. Dreams were rather simple creations of the subconscious. Things that weren't important weren't covered in detail. She looked around the crowd and found at least ten different bodies with the same face. The people on the East High side all had red shirts on and white shorts. The visitors on the other side were just blurs, memories from a past game. The subconscious never really made anything in detail. Dreams were simple creations.

But this man was not a simple creation of the mind. He was black. Not just his skin, but everything. It was like a silhouette had been cut out of black construction paper, given shape, depth, and this man had been created. He was complex, and she wondered why Troy's mind had created him.

A man in black could mean anything. A past figure. Someone Troy had once knew, but now had forgotten. Or it could be a secret, taking on a shape and form that would haunt Troy's dreams, always watching, no matter the content.

"What are you hiding Troy Bolton?" She stood up, pushing past two students that were screaming their hearts out and started down the bleachers. She kept watching the figure, but he never moved. Not even to breath, his chest never rose or fell. It was like he wasn't even there. The chaos around her was drowned out by her curiosity and she quickened her pace down the bleachers. "Who is that?"

The next moment froze her.

Almost as if he had heard her, the figure tilted its head up to look. His eyes were red. Not a bright red, but a deep, dark red that reminded her of blood. His arms uncrossed from his chest when he realized that she was staring at him, and he turned to leave.

Gabriella looked to Troy, who hadn't notice the figure at all. This man had nothing to do with the young East High Captain. That was wrong. The dream was Troy's creation, and this man shouldn't be allowed to move through it with free will. Not unless…

…he was like her. The realization jump started her and she sprinted down the bleachers. She stopped and watched as he turned his head slightly over his should, paused and then was gone. He just disappeared. She let out a low growl and stormed across the court.

Troy slammed into her. They both went to the linoleum hard, and somehow, the East High captain ended up on top of her. The gym fell silent and Gabriella looked up into his electric blue eyes. And then it hit her.

Troy Bolton was on top of her — naked — and by the look in his eyes — he knew it.

He could see her.

His head tilted, "Montez?"

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She felt her cheeks grow hot and she turned her head to the side. "Um, Bolton, do you — do you think you could get off of me?"

He blinked, glancing down. His cheeks grew red when he realized that he was still naked and she wasn't. His mouth opened into an apology but he never got the chance to say it.

-XxX-

A loud 'Bang' echoed in the library. Gabriella sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She yawned glancing across the almost empty room to where Troy had fallen asleep. His head was no longer propped up on one of his hands. The chestnut haired boy was rubbing his forehead vigorously, curses flowing under his breath.

She laughed. His elbow must have slipped off the edge of the table while he was asleep, which in turn had caused his head to slam into the garnet slab. His hand stopped mid rub and he glanced across to her, his eyes growing small.

"What are you laughing at, Montez?" He barked.

She smiled innocently back. "Nothing."

He didn't seem content with her answer and stood, his chair scraping against the floor. He walked slowly towards her, glancing around to make sure none of his friends were around to see what he was going to do. He plopped down in the seat right next to her, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think I should rephrase my question." He said in a flat voice. "What was that?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh." He leaned back in the chair, unconvinced. "Then, what were you doing in my dream?"

"Let me repeat myself," she said through clenched teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Something changed in his eyes. He seemed to collapse in upon himself and he leaned closer to her, his voice dropping considerably. "But I saw you there, not cheering. I ran into you, on the court. I don't know why everybody else didn't notice, but I was — I was naked."

She laughed at his fear. He wasn't different from any of the other jocks after all. Maybe she should feed his fear a little bit, after all, who was going to believe him if he tried to tell anyone?

She leaned closer to him, "I know." She said with a smile. "I saw that."

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