Author's Note: I know I have a ton of stories to update and probably shouldn't be adding more to my plate, but this idea has been buzzing around my head for a while. I watched most of High School Musical 2 to get myself more familiarized with the series because I figured it would only make sense since I'm writing a story in the fandom. I didn't see the whole thing as I could only handle so much in just one sitting, but I think I've done enough to familiarize myself a bit more with the whole environment. This story will be slash, but it starts off het for a good portion of the time.
Disclaimer: I do not own the franchise and make no money off writing this story. It is purely for enjoyment.
-----------------------------------------------------------
The headline of the newspaper delivered that morning read TROY BOLTON RETURNS TO ALBUQUERQUE TODAY!
It was an event that the residents of New Mexico had been waiting for for several months now. Troy Bolton, the seventeen-year-old pop superstar had made quite a splash with his emergence into the public consciousness several years ago and was the pride and joy of his hometown, though it hadn't been home to him ever since he was thirteen years old and had left for the sunny shores of California to launch his career as a superstar. Now four years later he was finally coming home for whatever reasons unknown to the residents of his town. He had announced approximately two months ago that he intended to take a "small break" from his booming career, "just to relax for a bit", and word had somehow gotten out that he intended to spend that time with his family back home. The fact that his senior year had began some few weeks ago, and that he was still legally bound to receive a secondary education regardless of what career path he had chosen for himself meant that for the first time in his life, Troy Bolton would be taking the brave step to venture into the halls of East High.
He had arrived at the terminal in the early hours of 4 AM, hoping to avoid the crowd of people who would have undoubtedly been lying in wait for him, begging off his parents' wild ideas of throwing a massive celebration that included a few words from the mayor, claiming that he had to do some last-minute promotion and recording before returning anyway. They had been disappointed, but had refused the idea of Troy taking a cab all the way to the house; his father, Jack Bolton, insisted that he meet him at Double Eagle, where Troy was meant to arrive in a private jet.
Now it was seven in the morning and Troy was in the car with his father driving him to the high school he had never had the opportunity to attend. His dad was in high spirits, happy to have his son back after having been separated from him for so long, and was rattling off the things that he could do now that he was back to a normal school. Coach of the East High Wildcats, a team had once hoped his son would join before he had left to make his fortune, Jack had chosen to stay behind and maintain his post while his wife flitted back and forth between New Mexico and California so that they would still be able to pay the bills in the time before Troy had gained public attention and sizable paychecks. Now that he had his son back, he had assumed that Troy would try out for a spot on his prized team.
Troy simply nodded and kept quiet and his father updated him on life in Albuquerque in the years since he'd been absent. Some of his old friends such as Chad Danforth, Jason Cross and Zeke Baylor had made the team and had gone on to become star players. Others – well, they hadn't been so lucky, and Jack hadn't really kept up with them enough since he had cut them down after tryouts to know what was going on with them now. "But they're all real excited to see you," he promised his son as he drove. "Everyone's been talking about you, they can't wait to hang out again."
Troy forced a small grin on his face. He wanted to be excited for this, he really did, but he wasn't quite as chipper as his parents were about the idea of leaving his career behind to come home for a year. His career was still burning hot and growing, and the thought of leaving it behind right now left a sour taste in his mouth. Really, who knew what could happen if he wasn't there to constantly tend to it? By the time he returned to LA, there might not be a career to return to.
Not only that, but the prospect of rejoining all his old friends in a normal school environment again left a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. His dad may not have found anything wrong with it, but when had parents ever comprehended the significance of high school? East High had been a source of awe and fear for him four years ago when he was a thirteen year old kid in middle school and it was, if possible, even more so now. He had lost touch with everyone there, and though he was sure they would want to be friends again – at least he hoped so – he couldn't pretend that it wasn't going to be awkward or that his fame wasn't going to get in the way. And if he knew anything about teenagers, he was well aware that pop music didn't have the best track record with them. No, Troy wasn't feeling very good about this at all.
Jack parked in his usual reserved space and cut the engine. "There's going to be an assembly," he informed. "Just this little thing, the principal wants to make sure you're comfortable, that's all."
'Oh yeah, I'm going to be real comfortable with everyone throwing me a parade,' Troy thought viciously. "Great," he said. It may have sounded odd that a big Hollywood star didn't want attention – that wasn't it, Troy's career was built on public interest after all – but the whispers and pointing from kids in a school he would be confined to for the next nine months was different from the usual media attention he received.
He shook his head to clear it of his thoughts and to wake himself up a little. None of the Boltons had slept the previous night; his parents had been too excited, and Jack was due at the airport to pick his son up anyway, and Troy had been doing some last minute performances and saying goodbye to his friends and handlers before boarding the plane. Afterwards, all three of them had sat around the kitchen just talking and waiting for the sun to rise.
The two Bolton men walked up the steps to the school and paused at the doors. Jack put an arm on Troy's shoulder and squeezed it, drawing a real smile from his son, however small it was. "You ready?"
Troy sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, then nodded. They pushed open the door and walked in.
The halls were packed with students milling about their lockers. Immediately, all talk ceased as students caught sight of who was in their presence. Jack led the way and after a moment, Troy followed, giving the kids around him a shy smile but not daring to look in their eyes. As he passed, a new buzz took place as curious eyes followed his path.
Jack led Troy to the principal's office first to get his locker assignment and class schedule for the semester. The secretary looked up as they walked in and beamed at them. "Hello, Jack. This must be Troy," she rose to her feet to shake his hand. "I've heard so much about you."
Troy blushed. "Oh, dad, you didn't talk about me to everyone did you?"
"No!" the secretary shushed him with a giggle. "I was just reading about you in Us Weekly!"
Troy raised an eyebrow. "Oh."
She clacked on the keys of her computer a bit, and in a moment printed out his schedule. Handing it to him with flourish, she bestowed another smile. "Welcome to East High."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The assembly had already begun by the time Jack and Troy reached the auditorium. Jack pushed the heavy doors open and gazed down at the students shifting in their seats. All eyes turned to them when the bright light infiltrated the dim room. The principal was already onstage behind a podium. "Ah, here they are now."
Jack took Troy by the arm and ushered him down the steps to find a seat by the staff members who occupied the first two rows. Troy tried to ignore the burning of thousands of eyes on the back of his neck.
"As I was saying," the principal resumed, "we are all aware that a new student will be joining us today. A few weeks late, but excusable – I'm sure Mister Bolton had quite a few matters to attend to…" he chuckled, giving Troy an indulgent look. Troy sank in his seat. "I trust you will all do your best to make Mister Bolton feel welcome, and treat him no different than you would any of your other friends! He is, as all of you, another son of our wonderful state, and we are all very glad to have him back in our midst..." For ten minutes the man droned on about the importance of accepting people of all kinds and the welcoming nature of East High School. Troy knew because he spent each one of those ten minutes checking his watch as discreetly as possible, growing redder and redder with every word.
Finally, he held up his hands and said, "I shan't keep you from your studies any longer. Teachers, please gather your students and lead them back to their respective classes." The staff members, who had been sneaking glances at Troy when they thought he wasn't looking – he caught every one – got to their feet and made their way to the door. Troy started to follow them but was held back when the principal exclaimed, "Mister Bolton, a moment please!"
Troy held back, bidding his father goodbye, and waited for the principal to descend from the stage and reach him. "Why don't we go to my office, I think we would be much more comfortable there."
Troy nodded and followed the short man outside after the auditorium had been vacated. They passed the secretary again, who gave Troy a girlish wave, which Troy returned by simply raising his palm in her direction, and entered the principal's office. It was small, and decorated with a framed diploma and several memorabilia celebrating the school, including a banner that hung opposite him. Troy took a seat, and the principal gazed at him with his hands clasped together.
"Well, Mister Bolton, I thought we would never have the pleasure of meeting," he started. "Of course I'd heard of you before, with your father being a member of our institution – an esteemed member, and certainly a credit to us all; I was sorry to hear you'd left to make your mark, shall I say, before we'd had a chance to meet face-to-face."
"Yeah," Troy managed. "I just wanted to go my own way, you know."
"Of course, of course," the other man nodded. "You've certainly accomplished what you set out to do, quite a name you've made for yourself all over the country, and the world! But perhaps some time to come back down to Earth, hmm?"
"Yeah," Troy pasted a grin on his face, which fell off fairly quickly.
"Well, we are glad to have you, Mister Bolton. I hope you will have yourself an enjoyable and prosperous year here. We have many clubs – but I'm sure your father has told you all about them?"
"Yeah, he's been telling me all about this place since I got back," Troy nodded. The principal beamed.
"Well, I won't keep you much longer. It's just that I like to have a personal word with all the students, encourage a close relationship with them. If you ever feel that you need to talk, my door is always open, Mister Bolton."
"Thank you, sir."
"Ah, so polite," the principal waved off. "May I have a look at your schedule? Just so that I may direct you where you need to go – it won't do to have you wandering about for the next hour, eh? Ah, homeroom with Miss Darbus, oh, you'll like her. That's in room 201 – simply turn left by the trophy case, and the first room to your right." He handed Troy back his schedule. "I shall have one of our students serve as a guide to get you better acquainted, I know how confusing a new place can be. Well, off you go, Mister Bolton! Left by the trophy case!"
"Thank you, sir," Troy muttered again and got up.
The class wasn't hard to find; Troy spent a little time inspecting the trophies displayed in the case. He had once hoped to make the basketball team, his father had certainly encouraged him to do so when he was younger, and wanted to see how they had fared. Names of students past gazed out at him as his eyes drifted through each one, including – his heart fluttered a bit – an MVP trophy addressed to Chad.
He finally reached the room, and tried to take a peek through the glass, but was unable to see the figures inside as it was frosted, so he knocked on the door and turned the knob. "Hi – Miss Darbus?"
"Ah, Troy Bolton!" squeaked a statuesque woman draped in shawls, rushing over to where he stood halfway in and out the door. "What a pleasure. I am Miss Darrrrrrrrbus," she said, rolling her tongue.
"Miss Darbus—"
"Darbus, dear! Darrrrrrrrbus."
Troy nodded slowly, gazing at the strange woman. "Right. I've been assigned…" he faced his schedule towards her, and she promptly snatched it away, holding it high in the air and adjusting her glasses to gaze at it. "Ah, of course! Come in dear, come in!"
Troy cautiously stepped in, fighting the urge to wring his hands together. "Class—" he stared at the group of students who were leaning forward in their seats staring back, "we have a new student today. I'm sure most of you are familiar with Mister Bolton – go ahead, Mister Bolton, introduce yourself."
Troy stole a quick glance at her then turned his attention back to the eager students. "Hi," he raised his hand. "Um … I'm Troy. I used to live in Albuquerque, and uh, I moved away for a while, I guess, and I'm back for a while and really glad to be here—"
"But why, dear?"
Troy turned back to Ms. Darbus in surprise. "Excuse me?" She waved her hand in the air as if trying to catch the meaning of her unexpected question.
"Why are you back? I don't believe I quite ever caught the reason."
"Oh." Now Troy was wringing his hands. "Well, my dad thought it'd be a good idea, I guess. I think he thought it would be best to finish off high school here than with a tutor, get some normalcy?" He shrugged lamely.
Darbus seemed less than thrilled with this response. "I see. Well, there's a seat available right over there dear, by Mister Evans." Troy nodded gratefully and maneuvered his way around and gracefully fit himself into the tiny chair-desk combo. He sucked in as deep a breath as he could manage without sounding too loud because the class was still deathly quiet and all eyes were fixated on him. He bowed his head, taking in the pattern of the wood carving, waiting for someone to break the silence.
He really, truly hated this idea.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
That's it for Chapter 1. Please review, I would love to know what you all think. I'm really excited about this idea and would love to get as much feedback for it as I can. Thanks for reading!
