A/N: This is one of my latest ideas, I hope you like it.
Enjoy!
Troy Bolton would rather be in the bottom of the ocean wrestling sharks, blindfolded than standing in a room full of complete strangers, in a tux that made him feel like he had just walked out of a James Bond movie.
He swirled the champagne in his glass in boredom as his eyes strayed around the extravagantly decorated tent, with the silky curtains and the brightly colored flowers in expensive looking vases; he hated these types of parties, where celebrities, business people, designers and all those rich and famous people gathered for no absolute reason! Everywhere he looked he saw woman that looked too perfect to be real: perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect skin, perfect EVERYTHING! Or the big gutted and aging 60-something year old men with teenage looking girls hanging off their arms, giggling insanely loud at everything they said.
He just wanted to get out.
But he knew he couldn't. He'd be dead before he even set foot in the parking lot, Sharpay would make sure of that.
Sharpay Bolton was probably one of the most well known names in the World. At just the age of seventeen she was known as the most beautiful creature that ever walked the Earth; she was an actress, a model and had several clothing and fragrance lines that seemed to never stop growing.
It was expected: the captain of the L.A. Lakers and Hollywood's "It" for five years running and Ms. World to tie the knot after four years of dating and years later they were still the "It" couple of Hollywood.
Troy looked down at his wristwatch and let out an exasperated groan. He and Sharpay had only been at the event for almost an hour and she was already lost in the sea of designer clothes. He couldn't breathe; Troy never liked suits, never ever! But once in a while—or most of the time—Sharpay got the upper hand and he was left without a choice. He closed his eyes as his long fingers worked at loosening his tie.
"Baby, guess what!?" a soft squeal caused him to jump back in shock and his eyes to flow open. He stared at his wife, the vision of perfection.
Her platinum blonde waves cascaded down her pale back, stopped just above her waist; her light hazel eyes glistened with the excitement that showed all over her face. She let out a small squeal and wrapped her thin arms around her husband's neck and pulled him in for a bone crushing hug. Troy firmly placed his hands on her hips and pushed her back so he could look at her face. "What is it?" he asked somewhat reluctantly at the same time trying to pry her arms from around his neck.
"Madonna asked me to sing with her at her concert in New Jersey!" the excited blonde squealed attracting the attention of those around them.
"That's great, honey." Troy said trying to sound enthusiastic but realized he'd failed when Sharpay cocked her head to the side, "you don't sound fine." She commented.
"I'm tired," Troy mumbled putting space between their bodies, "the game today really took my energy. I think I just need to sleep."
"Oh. The party ends in a few hours; I'm sure you could wait?" she smirked seductively and ran her small hand along his covered arm, "besides, if you do there'll be a special present waiting when we get home…"
Troy couldn't help but shiver at her suggestive tone: normally he would have stayed at a party until five in the morning just to get what she was suggesting, but at that moment even sex couldn't get him to stay for just a few more hours; but he only did it because he loved her. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, "fine, but just a few hours." Sharpay giggled excitedly and pressed her plump Botox filled lips against his.
An hour and a half later, Troy had had enough!
He had just managed to sneak out of a group of models who seemed to find him to be the most fascinating thing at the entire party. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he made his way outside of the tent and into the cool September air and began walking, farther and farther away from the large tent.
He had no idea where he was going; all he knew was that the street he somehow managed to find himself in was different…in a bad way. The streets were dark and gloomy; the buildings looked deteriorated ad some were crumbling from age. The sidewalks were littered with beggars and the homeless, people made out in anywhere without caring who was watching, most of the buildings seemed to be strip clubs and bars, hookers walked around in barely any clothing, drunk and high. Troy shuddered involuntarily. He had never been to this part of L.A. and he knew he never wanted to be.
He increased his pace as he walked past a group of huge creepy looking thugs who seemed to watch him with greed. He was thankful that the street lights were either dim or burned because he didn't want anyone to recognize him. He looked around the dark streets trying to see if he could recognize anything or anyone, but he couldn't; he began to get scared, which was new feeling for him. He somehow ha to find his way back to Beverly Hills, but as he looked around he realized that his chances of finding his way back home were slim.
He turned and tried to retrace his steps back to the charity event, but that proved useless: it was too dark to know which way he had come.
"You've done it, Bolton" he muttered to himself, shivering as the stale night air blew across his face, "you've just thrown away your life!"
He bowed his head and started walking to wherever his legs desired when something—or rather someone—slammed into him with so much force that he and the person fell back onto the dirty pavement.
"Shit!" he distinctly heard the person curse as they tried to gather their things that had fallen due to the impact. Troy looked over at the unknown person and saw that he was small, wore and over sized jacket that hid his entire body with a hood that covered his entire face. He immediately bent down to help the stranger to gather his stuff. He had just reached for the first bag when a loud yell caused him to look up.
"Thief! Stop him!" Troy felt the person beside freeze and he could distinctly make out the silhouette of a short stocky man with a huge gut, waving around what looked like a cane that was a lot longer/taller than him. The stocky man and several others seemed to be running towards the stranger squatting, frozen next to him. Without thinking he grabbed the stranger roughly by the arm and hoisted him off of the floor. The stranger hissed softly in pain but surprisingly didn't struggle. The little crowd stopped just before Troy and the stranger, the large gutted man in front. He reached out and pulled the stranger from Troy's grasp with a large amount of strength causing the thief to fall back to the ground and the dark hood to fall off.
The atmosphere was filled with loud gasps as the stranger was revealed to be a girl who looked to be seventeen. She had shoulder length tousled dark chocolate hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks, her face was brown-ish with dirt, and her mocha eyes seemed to stare up at the crowd with hate and distaste. She growled and picked herself off the ground. The stocky man instantly grabbed her by a chunk of her hair causing her to cry out in pain and pulled her down to his level.
"When will you ever learn, Montez?" he spat, bringing his face close to hers and fanning her face with his disgusting breath. "This is the third time and now you will pay!" and with that he slapped her hard across the face, ad those in the crowd began to cheer him on as his fist connected with her stomach. Troy felt his stomach form knots as the silent tears leaked out from the corners of her eyes.
"Whoa, hold on" he intervened, stepping between the girl and the large man, but kept a firm grip on the girl's wrist. "What exactly did she steal?"
The man glared at Troy from head to toe, analyzing his clothing and appearance. "A baguette." He sneered, trying to reach behind Troy for the girl.
"And how much is that?"
The man looked at Troy's clothes and realized he must be rich, even though he couldn't see his face due to the poor lighting. "Two bucks."
Troy stuffed his free hand in his pocket and searched for his wallet which he pulled out and gave the man two one dollar bills—he was surprised he even had money that small in his wallet. "That's not gonna be enough for me to let her go." The man snapped as he snatched the money harshly away from Troy's offering hand.
"Fine." Troy looked through his wallet and pulled out a hundred dollars, which caused several gasps to echo through the crowd, and stuffed it into the man's rounded hand. The man stared at it, mouth hanging open. He fisted the money and stuffed it in the pocket of his apron.
Within seconds, the crowd had dispersed, leaving Troy and the girl alone.
"You know I could have gotten out of this on my own!" the girl snapped coldly breaking the dead silence. Troy turned around and looked at her only to let out an involuntary gasp. The girl was beyond beautiful, even beneath all the dirt, the scruffiness and the coldness Troy knew that she was by far the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.
"Oh yes, because you were doing so well on your own." Troy said sarcastically with a soft smile. The girl scowled. Her dark mocha eyes analyzed his appearance.
"You're not from around here." She stated, furrowing her brows together as she took in the designer suit he was wearing.
"No shit, Einstein." Troy snapped. He hadn't meant to be rude, but he was tired, lost and frustrated; but the girl didn't seem to be affected by his harshness she just smiled.
"You need help calling a cab to Beverly Hills?" she asked all coldness in her voice and face evaporated. Troy raised his brow, "how do you know I'm from Beverly Hills?"
The girl giggled, a sound that seemed to fill Troy's ears and dazzle him, causing him to forget about everything but the girl standing in front of him. "I know your type." She mumbled sounding suddenly shy.
She turned her back on him, faced the road and stuck her hand out at the same time letting out an incredibly loud whistle. Troy watched the brunette curiously from where he stood. She was very different from all the girls he had ever met in his life. A yellow cab pulled up right in front of them.
"There you go." The brunette breathed, turning to face Troy, "your carriage awaits." She giggled. Troy couldn't understand it; just moments ago she was being aggressively beaten up and crying, and now she was making jokes? But all the same he smiled gratefully at her before climbing into the—his first time ever in one.
The brunette watched him climb into the car before picking up the rest of her belongings that were scattered across the floor and began walking away but stopped when Troy called her.
"Hey, you're not coming?" he asked. She shook her head sadly. "Come on," he motioned for her to get into the cab, but she didn't move an inch. "Hey come on, we can drop you off wherever you want to go." He offered trying his best not to sound hopeful. In truth, he wanted to get to know the brunette.
Without another word, the girl climbed into the vehicle.
"Beverly Hills, please." Troy said to the driver, "where are you going?" he asked the brunette who turned away and looked out of the window.
"Anywhere that's not here." She murmured. Troy nodded as the driver started the car. Once on the road, the girl turned to Troy and gave him a small smile, "I'm Gabriella." She introduced herself. Troy smiled at the name; it suited her perfectly.
"Troy." He stuck out his hand which she took hesitantly. Electrical sparks erupted from the contact and the girl hurriedly pulled her hand back.
"I know." She whispered.
A/N: REVIEW!!!