A/N: Hey

This is just a one shot for now. It's a bit of a mess as I'm in a odd mood right now. I haven't forgot about You'll Go Out In Style, I'll hopefully update soon, I'm just trying to figure it out. This is basically just so you know I'm not going to leave this account dead with one chapter of a story with one review, haha. Please review it keeps me motivated! This could be looked at as a true story-besides the characters part- pretty much all the girls I know are insecure. Not that I aren't but please put yourself into someone's shoes before you judge them.

Disclaimer- I just own my mind?

Yeah so please be wary this is a M.

(I tried to make it so it wasn't too depressing or intense, this is meant to be like a blog post?)

April,2011.

My painted nails gripped my hair as I scrolled down my facebook homepage, my tumblr dashboard… whatever floats your boat. I had my music on full volume and was giving myself plenty of reflection time. Obviously- it was the Easter Holidays, my mother was at work and whenever I heard a song that made me feel good, or I liked the beat I would be able to dance in my underwear away from the critics in my life. I'm free to be immature and have a little dance, a little moan.

Well, I guess I should introduce myself before I start getting so comfortable 'talking to you'.

My name is Gabriella. Gabriella Elizabeth Montez if we were to be formal. I LOVE when Troy calls me Brie. It sounds sexy, sophisticated almost independent. I encourage him to call me Brie instead of 'Gabs' but I feel I may make him uncomfortable sometimes trying to control our relationship to be perfect. Hell, I don't care if we have a completely rocky relationship as long as it was worth the ride. (Not that kind of ride, you perverted shits!)

But; I'm completely the opposite of sexy sophisticated and independent. Please, for the love of Johnny Depp, don't make me describe myself. Both you and me won't like it when I describe myself. I worry allot and I'm extremely insecure, to be blunt. Blunt, laid back, funny. I also, love it when people call me that. Even though in my head it describes another side to me it makes me think that possibly, maybe I am more like this Brie. Which I am not.

Eh, for once can you just not give a fuck Gabriella. Yeah, I'm THAT much of a worrier. People think that worriers are meant to be all perfect and flawless and have nothing going against them or holding them back. My mom, or Tanya, wants me to go onto Stanford and gladly, isn't as pressuring as Troy's Dad about him taking up basketball seriously in college. But, my mum doesn't give me a choice, I'm still a child to her and she can keep on dreaming, but maybe I'll just leave college early and travel. I want to find my passion first. Don't get me wrong i'm greatful. I do want a job that I will earn from and a nice house. I want things to go my way, if I don't quit as usual.

I have quit every single one of my diets. Fuck knows why, maybe I am destined to be fat? My family doesn't help either, the all work and 'don't have time' to simply get a cab to my grandmothers to have some of her equipment she would give away oh so eagerly to her 'beautiful little grandchild'. Little? My mothers mam should be a comedian.

Nothing works. I know there are plenty of loved fat people, but I need to be one of the 'average' skinny kids. I'm not popular enough to be in between. You can call me skinny, that's cool. Thanks for reassuring me. But I'll still be keeping a eye out for weight loss books on amazon. And then I'll move on to creams to get rid of the stretch marks I will gain from trimming down the fat on my hips. I can only dream. 'I know I'm not perfect, but I'll keep trying.'

Hit me up on facebook if you have lost a bit, I can 'have a little sob over your success storys' and continue my search for dance routines that will burn off all those calories from my Easter eggs. I don't even want to think about the amount of calories I will have consumed and not burned off in th.

I didn't ever want to be like this. I want to be the happy girl who eats as much as she wants and go out in the glorious sunshine showing off her tanned arms in her brightly coloured vest tops, ready to meet her boyfriend. Oh wait, I didn't tell you did I? I guess I'm in denial still. Troy dumped me after our anniversary on new years, in the January celebrations. He gave me a fucking card. A fucking ring that was my gift to him. Is he trying to torture me? That ring just reminded me of him and convinced me Ben &Jerrys was chocolate goodness for the heart. Just this once my arse.

I can't blame this all on that Bolton though, that's just shameful.

I've been toying with my eating habits for months and months. Around two years I'd say now. I moved school because Tanya's company required her to move half way across the state. Not that it wasn't a relief. I was sick of the critics. That one comment by that one girl, 'fat' made me paranoid for what seems to be like life.

There are critics all over Albuquerque, still. Troy was one of them when he dumped me, taking weeks to admit I was 'too paranoid' and wanted to 'be something I wasn't'.

I was allot worse than this, but even now I'm trying to contain my mind from going mental about my insecurities.

I used to make myself throw up, and I'd have tears pouring down my cheeks while doing so.

Just read what happened Christmas Eve/Day:

Troy's lips and mine were locked. In a frenzy to remove our clothes, Troy ripped my cocktail dress all down the front, dragging his teeth across my exposed skin. I felt a longing in the pit of my stomach making me forget about everything I was worrying about before, wanting him. I groaned and mumbled when I realised where he was heading.

"When you told me you had nothing covering this beautiful flesh down here at the party, I couldn't control myself. Do you mind us spending Christmas Eve like this? I know I don't mind. One. Little. Bit."

I laughed looking at the ceiling trying to contain myself, biting my lip. Then forcing my eyes to meet his I noticed his beautiful strong facial structure, his sandy hair reflecting the little light that was in the room. His stubble which only turned me on when his skin came into contact with mine. His blur eyes that were dark with seduction.

"You mad?" I laughed as I could hear the track playing from the party a couple of apartments away. Akon- I wanna fuck you.

"Chad wouldn't want us to disobey Akon's orders, ey?"

I laughed, "He's probably a little busy with some skinny blonde bit-"

I was cut off by Troy's soft lips on mine, his tongue soon found mine. We were in a obsession with each other. He was on top of me, rubbing his boxer-covered manhood against my heat. Our tongues were fighting for domination. Soon, getting frustrated Troy allowed me to pin him down and slide off his boxers. His hands were gripping onto my soft curves, his lips never letting me breath, I ripped myself away from him. He had a soft smirk on his face, his breathing slowed down and he pulled me into a soft kiss. "I love you baby, you're the only one I want. I don't care about some blonde skinny bitch Chad's fucking, I want my gorgeous Brie." He said adding emphasis to the word Brie. I felt relaxed, free. Troy wanted me, flaws and all. I gave myself to him, sliding onto his hard length. It fucking hurt, Troy never took his hands off me.

Christmas Day, 2010

I felt so good. If 2012 was true, I wasn't dying a virgin! I pictured myself as Troy's sexy, sophisticated, independent Brie.

'Sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me.'

Maybe not, but I was happy okay?

We woke in a tangled mess of legs arms and sheets.I allowed my eyes to adjust. He grinned at me. So therefore, Gabs is great in bed;-).

And that's big, coming from a guy like Troy Bolton.

3:00:

Tanya had just made us all a amazing Christmas dinner.

I didn't refuse two slices of chocolate cake.

But after, all I could do was imagine it digesting and adding yet again another layer of fat to my skin. I couldn't help it. I didn't want Troy's views of me to change from last night. I excused myself from the decorated table and sat myself comfortably in front of the toilet bowl and found my finger, my friend who put things right when I slipped up.

The shadow in the doorway watched me in disgust and horror. That shadow slipped away from me, petrified of my mind.

I'm going to stop it right there, it's too uncomfortable. I'm making an effort to find myself.

Right now, I'm in the state of mind to party, not stuff my face so I'm going to make the most of it.

This is a hormonal Gabriella, trying to see sense, signing off.