Commentary: So... my New Year's resolution was to really embrace being a writer. I figured there wasn't a better way than to start posting stories, good, bad, or ugly. Every bit of feedback helps. So a few days ago I decided to embrace my childhood and rewatch HSM 1-3. A few ideas sparked and I couldn't sleep until I wrote them out. I'll be ordering them into half-coherent chapters, so I plan on continuing this story for a while. I hope that I can get even one person who enjoys reading it.
This pretty much picks up after HSM2 and will go through the end of HSM3. However, seeing as this is a Troy/Ryan story, there will obviously be differences.
When Troy said he was looking forward to seeing Ryan play baseball, he meant it. So that would explain why they were standing in the stadium, Troy by the pitcher's mound and Ryan with a bat at home plate. It was just the two of them, but it really wasn't anything too special. The park usually would have been packed, but at the tail end of summer, everyone probably had more important things to do, like prepare for school. So that left them suffocatingly alone. The basketball star pitched the ball and watched as it ricocheted off the bat and soared through the air above their heads. Ryan ran for the win, but Troy stood still. Stunned.
To anyone who watched, it was obvious the blond was a dancer. His feet hardly touched the ground, most of his running was done by pressing off of his toes as if performing a ballet, his hips swung with a certain gracefulness that couldn't exist in a regular athlete, and his focus was steel. Troy stared in bewilderment before he finally snapped out of it and made a beeline to the ball, but by the time he got to it the other boy had already made it to home plate.
"Chad wasn't kidding about your game," Troy yelled across the stadium, jogging over to his friend. "You've got some good moves. Did you used to play?" They were never too close. Even when they were little they'd say hi in the hall, but they were generally kept apart. Now, though? Now, maybe things would be different. After all the shenanigans this past summer - well, this nearly over summer - things had changed. Even after the talent show, things hadn't been smooth sailing. Troy had been busy trying to convince his friends he can be the guy they all liked again. Further than that, he's been trying to prove to Gabriella that they can still make things work.
That's a bit more difficult and everyone who knows anything about him could tell just by a simple glance in his general direction that making it work wasn't working. "Yeah, actually. Little League, back in the day. My team won the championship." The boy's voice ripped any thoughts of Gabriella from Troy's mind, viciously shoving the kid back into reality where he was just standing in a park, nowhere near any of the people he needed to get to like him again. "You ever play anything besides basketball?" Troy seemed to scoff and that was answer enough. "Well, soccer's probably out of the picture. You have to be able to dance to be any good at that," the shorter boy teased.
There was a silence that suddenly tore through the air and ripped a hole in the atmosphere. It threw Troy for a loop, stole his breath as he tried to find the words. But he failed and simply stared at his friend. Things have been rocky, maybe they're still just experiencing leftover tension. Or, maybe they were trying to force something to work that just wasn't supposed to. Neither cared to accept either answer, within good reason.
"Hey. Troy, are... Are you okay?" It was a stupid question. Everyone noticed the discomfort between Troy and Gabriella ever since what happened at Lava Springs. Ryan couldn't feel worse about it, either. "I know I'm probably... the last person you'd want to talk to - well, next to my sister - but I'm here. I know asking how you are is stupid, but you can totally talk to me if you need to. Or-or want to." There was a pause before Troy managed a smile. He playfully ruffled the shorter boy's hair before looking away again.
"I don't know, man. It's just... Senior year's coming up and I.. Well, I don't know where I belong. Not yet, at least." Troy didn't have plans after high school, not of his own at least. His dad expected him to take on the basketball world, but he wasn't entirely sold. He loved basketball, but he couldn't help but feel like he belonged elsewhere and it killed him not being able to figure out where exactly that was. "What if... What if I don't want to play basketball anymore?" He practically didn't recognize himself in that moment. He'd always been the Basketball Guy, and now? He was terrified.
Apparently his question even terrified Ryan, as indicated by the boy's failure to get any sound out at all. The two stood in silence as they both ran miles in their minds. "Then don't," was all Ryan answered. "Be who you want to be, Troy. Don't let anyone make the decision for you."
Bolton scoffed, "and, no offense, but what would you know about that?"
The Evans boy offered a soft smile and gently clapped his friend's shoulder. "My dad wanted me to keep playing baseball." Well, after the display he'd just seen, Troy would be willing to believe it. "I always kind of hated it, though. I had more fun tap dancing or in ballet than I did... doing all this. And he was disappointed that he didn't have a star athlete for a son. But once he saw me dance... I can't explain it." Troy couldn't explain it either, but there was a sort of sparkle in the boy's eye. It drew him in, didn't let go. "He didn't care. I mean, it didn't matter. I was doing what I loved, and he loved that."
Troy smiled back, unknowingly even, and he nodded. "Thanks, Ryan. I needed that." A car horn implanted itself into their lives at that moment and Troy looked up as he let out a sigh. "That's my dad, I have to go," he claimed. "Do you have a ride home?"
And against his better judgment, Ryan just nodded. He didn't have a ride home. He had walked there and Sharpay was out shopping, his parents probably out in the middle of nowhere doing he-didn't-even-want-to-know-what, and then there was Troy. But he couldn't possibly go with the other boy. "See you tomorrow, Wildcat?" he tried, but it just didn't feel right. "I mean... Troy."
"Yeah, man. See you tomorrow." And he sped off.
;-;-;-;
The first day of senior year and the stress was eating at them both. Troy and Ryan, that is. Sharpay was determined to make it the best year ever, and Troy had absolutely no future. And yet the two unlikely friends met up with each other before anyone else. "Glad to see your sister hasn't torn you limb from limb yet," Troy joked, leaning up against the locker beside Ryan's. "You know, I saw her about to strangle a kid with her bare hands just because he was blocking her sunlight." There was a wide smile on his face as Ryan laughed.
"I find backing away when she's not looking effective," Ryan teased back, an almost flirtatious grin gracing his own face. From where Troy was standing, or perhaps it was simply the angle the light reflected off the shorter boy's teeth, Ryan appeared to glow enough to keep the entire building lit for eight days all on his own. "It helps to have a distraction. You know, I have dancing." And planning, pining, and precariously putting himself out on a limb to be around Troy.
The boy in question faltered slightly and attempted a nod. "Speaking of dancing..." he trailed off, throwing an arm over the boy's shoulders as they started walking, Ryan's messenger bag keeping rhythm against his leg with every movement. "We need a mascot. You know, someone to get in the costume and dance around and keep people entertained. The guys wanted me to talk you into it." A moment's hesitation. "Well... I kind of convinced them you'd be perfect and they went along with it. But that's not the main issue here. What do you say?"
It was all blurted out into what was mostly an incoherent mess, but Ryan nodded. Being mascot would suck; it was the worst job someone in high school could have. But it meant going to the games, seeing Troy every day, and hopefully getting a few more friends along the way. "Alright, I'm in. But you owe me." It wasn't a serious threat, pointer finger lamely pressing against Troy's toned chest.
Both laughed. "Whatever you want, it's yours!" Troy called, perhaps a little too loud considering people started staring and staring meant talking, as his friend walked away. What he didn't have was the chance to see was how deeply the boy was blushing. What no one else noticed was that Troy had been looking at his friend almost the same way he did Gabriella. With eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and a smile that was solely reserved for whoever Cupid directed. Of course, maybe people noticed, but if they did, they only commented on Ryan looking like a boy in love. Perhaps it was too outrageous to think Troy could like him back.
Because he was with Gabriella, and he was a big basketball star, and that together meant Ryan was out of the picture. Maybe that was even what Troy assumed. But when he finally found his girlfriend, standing at her locker where she'd been waiting for him, she looked unimpressed; he had approached her with the biggest smile on his face until he noticed.
"What's wrong, Gabriella?" But she just sighed and shut her locker, fixing the collar of his shirt with one hand before looking up at him with saddened eyes.
"You're late, Wildcat. It's our first day back together and you promised you'd be here at seven. It's almost seven-thirty, which means we have to get to class." He knew where the lecture was going and rolled his eyes, mood drowning instantly. He knew time was slipping away. He knew he was letting it. But he couldn't pretend that the future - the scariest part of life - wasn't coming quick. He just needed time to focus on basketball, his girlfriend, and he was sure it would turn out alright. His friends wouldn't let him get lost enough to ruin his future... right?
"I know, and I'm sorry. I caught up with Ryan and he and I were talking-"
"You ditched me for Ryan?" she half-squeaked. Sure, he'd redeemed himself to her when producing the show over the summer, but after everything that had happened it was obvious she still wasn't fond of the idea. "I love that you have friends, Troy, but I can't handle a repeat of this summer. I need you to be true to word. Alright? No more broken promises."
Reluctantly, he nodded. "No more broken promises. I promise."