Burgundy Roses
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The closing show of Twinkle Towne has finally come to an end.
All the crew members immediately rush up to (the annoyingly phony) Gabriella, praising her on the wonderful job she has done as the winter musicale's lead.
Roses.
Her arms are filled with roses.
Stupid bitch.
Of course, it is only the refreshing Gabriella who will get all the credit, all the compliments, all the glory – things that naturally belonged to Sharpay long before the Einsteinette barged in and ruined her life.
People crowd around her, and she stands, smiling brilliantly, clutching all the grand bouquets of roses.
None of those are for Sharpay.
Trying to calm the rush of unrestrained anger, she pushes past every insignificant person. She ignores her brother's startled glance and makes sure to step on Troy's foot as hard as she can on her way. He winces in pain; she is wearing high heels. Even better.
With a cry of distress, she throws herself into her dressing room, glistening tears threatening to fall.
"Congratulations," a voice says from the doorway, and she whips around, her face forming a mocking smile.
"For what?" she asks bitterly. "I wasn't the lead."
"So? You were still in the musical, so you deserve credit."
"Of course I do, but all anyone cares about is Gabriella." Her tone is filled with resentment.
"Not true," he whispers. "I care about you. Darbus gave you the main supporting role so that you could still be an important part of the musical."
"But it's not the lead," she snaps. "No one pays any attention to some supporting character."
"I paid attention."
And he gives her a breathtaking bouquet of burgundy roses. They aren't for Gabriella. They are for Sharpay.
For a magnificent second, she almost feels like the star again.
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A/N: Ok, I'm crazy. I admit it. Be wonderful and leave me a review, please.
