Prologue
Meet her:
Name:
Gabriella Montez.
Age:
23
Occupation:
Runway Assistant
Hobbies:
Hanging out with co-workers /Going to clubs/ Designing my own line of clothing
Parents Occupations:
Investors
Other Information:
I grew up in Laguna Beach, California. My parents own a big house and a lot of land there. I graduated from a fashion design school in Upper California. I moved to Los Angeles to start a career in fashion. I plan to have my own line one day.
Meet him:
Name:
Troy Bolton
Age:
22
Occupation:
Looking for an occupation
Hobbies:
Bar hopping/Girls/Sex/Partying/Drinking
Parents Occupations:
Dad- high school gym teacher, Mom- third grade school teacher
Other Information:
I grew up in a small town on the outskirts of Albuquerque, New Mexico. My parents have never had a lot of money. We've lived in a small house, content with having little. I went to UCLA on a sports scholarship, then blew my knee out, lost it and dropped out. I can't keep more than one job at a time, but I've managed.
Chapter One
"I can not believe that happened!" Gabi exclaimed, talking about the runway show earlier, "I mean seriously? How can five right shoes going missing?"
"I don't know girl, but I have to give you props, how did you get those models to walk like that on two left shoes?" Her best friend, Taylor, asked awed.
"A trick I learned one day when all I could find is the right shoe of both my black converses as well as my white ones." She said, shrugging as if it was no big deal.
"You're way too modest girl. Brag a little!" One of the girls at the table told her.
For Gabi, it really wasn't a big deal. She's been on the runway scene for about a year, so she's basically dealt with every problem that could possibly happen during a show.
"To Gabi and her amazing success today," Another person at the table said, raising their glass of some assortment of alcohol.
"To Gabi!" Everyone at the table toasted.
Gabi downed her shot and ordered another one.
"Was your father a thief? 'Cause someone stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes." Troy told an attractive girl sitting at the bar.
She was wearing a tiny tube top that may as well not exist, and an even shorter mini. She didn't have enough make up on to charge, he figured if she wanted a one-night stand so bad, who he to not oblige to her request.
She looked at him like he was nothing more than a piece of trash.
"That cheesy, used pick-up line isn't getting you anywhere near me, so why don't you put it back in your pants and find someone else who would buy that load of garbage."
So she's a picky one-night stander, probably a first timer just itching to lose it. Good thing she shut him down saves him from having to make up a lame excuse to leave. He knew her type, comes into a club hoping to finally lose it then either chickens out last second or expects some sort of attachment.
He took another swig of his third beer then decided he wanted something stronger. He went an ordered two shots of tequila figuring that should get him blasted enough. He was running low on money, as always, and was having a day full of self-loathing. Better make it three, he thought then ordered another shot.
After downing the first one, he saw an attractive brunette in the corner. He was buzzed now, so he grabbed his two shots and walked over towards her.
"Want to dance?" He asked knowing that was the fastest way to get to her type.
He proceeded to give her one of his tequila shots as she nodded and followed him on the dance floor. Both of them downed it at the same time.
Both of them were now drunk enough to not know what's going on, and to not be able to remember anything tomorrow.
They were both falling over one another on the dance floor and somehow made it into one of the rooms in the club.
Her head hurt. Her face hurt. Her body hurt. She felt sick. At that realization, she ran to the bathroom and threw up al the contents of her stomach. As soon as she could move again without puking, she got up and walked to the bedroom. She mentally groaned: this was the fifth time in the past two months this has happened. Thankfully she's on the pill but this was seriously becoming a bad habit.
She got dressed and left, noting that he probably did the same earlier. With that thought, came another. She didn't even know his name. At least with the others she knew that much about them, god was she turning into some sort of slut like her high school classmates?
As she walked out towards the sun, she forgot that thought. The light made her head feel like it was about to split open. As she walked home, all she could think of was some pain medications, a hot shower, and a nice cozy bed.