Author's Note: I'm a bad boy. I'm not really supposed to have this up at all. I'm supposed to be finishing other stories. But there is something in me that can't help it. I suppose to keep some variety in my life.
Disclaimer: For this and the chapters to follow: I don't own High School Musical and am not making any profit off of this. It is to entertain others and myself, and that is all.
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All You Need
By Xian Chan
Prologue
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"Love is all you need."
-The Beatles
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What was it that made him get on a twelve hour, change over flight to London again? Why would he torture himself, suffering through jetlag, uncomfortable airplane seats, and rude air-hostesses? Because after the horrible flight he had, he rued his decision to drop school, pick up and move to London.
He'd only been in his sophomore year of college and of course, he was doing great. Once again he had been proclaimed the star player of the basketball team. His grades were acceptable. He was happily single. He had been well on his way to playing professional ball but for some reason everything he did felt empty. There was an exceptionally large hole in him that couldn't be filled with the things he loved anymore. Not even Gabriella–girlfriend turned best friend–could fill the gap. So he did the best thing he could think of. To avoid the issue altogether and get as far away from his 'problems' as possible. And how much farther could you get from Albuquerque, New Mexico than Europe? London, England to be precise.
If he weren't in such a foul mood, Troy would be ecstatic. Elated. Overjoyed even. However, he wasn't. What he was, was tired, depressed, and frustrated. Here he was, dragging his shit through Heathrow Airport probably looking like death warmed over. What was supposed to be an hour change over in Miami turned into a six hour flight delay due to torrential rain. The whole time in the air, Troy couldn't sleep a wink, and the flight attendants did practically nothing to alleviate his pained journey, despite the fact that his ass had been perched in a first-class seat for nearly nine hours from shore to shore.
After getting off the damnable plane, Troy had to wait an hour and a half for his four bags (basically everything he owned) which only made his mood worse. He could tell by the way that people avoided looking him straight in the eye, or carefully moved around him when passing that he most likely had a dark expression on his face. One that said, 'the next person to even utter a syllable near me will come to a complete and painful demise'.
"Troy!"
A smile instantly settled on the brunet's lips as he heard the familiar voice hollering across the arrivals lobby. Okay, maybe not the that person. The next one. Standing only a few meters away in the crowd of waiting people was a rather tall, curvaceous, woman in her late sixties. Aunt Hazel. Troy had always loved his great aunt. His grandmother's younger sister. She had a rather bluntness to her that shone through in her appearance. Her crystal blue eyes so typical of his mother's side of the family, glimmering with her usual joviality with a hint of mischief.
He pushed his baggage towards the woman, still smiling even though he felt like a truck had just ran him over.
"Troy, darling. How are you doing," the woman embraced the even taller brunet boy. She stepped back a bit, examining Troy from head to toe while clutching his shoulders. "Well, even if I loathe it, basketball has been doing you some good." She squeezed him into another hug. "Let's not just stand here, darling. Let's get a move on."
The woman led Troy through the crowded arrivals lobby, in which he had to dodge a number of annoying travelers (some with their children) the whole time trying to keep control of the damned baggage cart, all four of whose wheels pivoted. Whoever thought of placing four pivoting wheels on a cart rather than the standard front two was either extremely daft or horribly sadistic. Or both. It was the one inefficient thing about English airports and the one thing that was grating the last of Troy's sanity. He didn't need to be fighting to keep his cart going straight when his nerves were tender after an international flight. No one did.
By the time they reached the car park (as Aunt Hazel kept reminding him, as parking lot was an Americanism) Troy wasn't sure he would be able to survive his first hour in London much less his first day, further his first day. Or first week, or month, or even year.
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"Open the window, Troy, darling," his aunt said as they stopped in front of a stop light. Troy remembered that 'open the window' was code for 'I'm going to have a cigarette, and I don't like the smell of smoke in the car's upholstery.' So he did as told and watched his aunt take a cigarette out of her silver case and light it up while rolling down her own window. It must have taken years of practice to make it look that easy.
"So, you dropped out of university," Hazel got straight to the point. She was never one to beat around the bush, or delay inevitable conversations.
Troy shrugged. "I wasn't happy with how everything was going, even if it was all going perfectly. Everything felt hollow and I just needed to get as far away from Albuquerque as I could. So, London seemed the best choice."
"Aren't you a little young to be having a mid-life crisis," Hazel smiled at Troy while she began driving once the light turned green. He shrugged again and looked out his window, leaning his chin on his palm.
"It's not a mid-life crisis," Troy rolled his eyes. "It's...an early epiphany."
Hazel laughed while blowing out smoke. "One that makes you quit school and doing what you love to relocate your whole life to the other side of the world?"
"Yes," he answered flatly. Why did everyone seem to like asking him that question? "I needed a change."
"And what a change you've made. A life changing change."
Troy sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We'll see."
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Review, review, review. I'll do my damn'dest to keep this fandom alive. I don't care if I'm a sporadic updater, I won't ever leave Troy and Ryan alone. That being said, your thoughts and feelings?
I have a thing for far-fetched ideas. I like to make them do-able.
Comments and criticisms always welcome.