Disclaimer: Don't own any of it.

Note: AU. Most definitely AU. I don't how to sum it up, Troy's on a journey of self-destruction because of a girl who left him a long time ago.

Work seemed to drag on that day. Troy sighed pushing his papers aside and letting his head fall to his desk, if there was one benefit of working for his father, it was the fact that he could get away with a lot. He felt his heavy lids begin to close further until her was fast asleep.

"Dude this town sucks" Nineteen year old Troy Bolton complained, throwing the Xbox controller down.

"Okay and I can help that how?" Chad Danforth asked picking the controller up and continuing the game.

"I don't know, let's go downtown or something."

"We have done that since we were like fifteen." He groaned in response.

Troy jumped up grabbing his faded Members Only jacket.

"Exactly, it'll be fun." He threw Chad his own jacket and proceeded to the door.

Downtown wasn't exactly hopping as Troy had hoped; it seemed so much cooler when he had been younger. He sighed they had been walking for twenty minutes and Chad had made it very clear he was bored.

"Let's grab a cup of coffee." Troy suggested, he knew the coffee shop wasn't exactly either of their scenes but everyone needed to broaden their horizons every once in awhile.

"Whatever" Chad grumbled following Troy into the small entrance.

Immediately their nostrils were filled with the smell of coffee and incense.

"It smells like hippie in here" Chad commented quietly

"How would you even know what that smells like?" Troy asked smirking; he took his place in line and glanced over the menu, while Chad plopped down on a nearby couch.

"I would suggest the pumpkin spice; it has just the right amount of sweet and spicy." Her voice in his ear was as sweet as honey. He turned taking in her appearance; she was wearing a short loose fitted white dress with boots. Her hair was long, parted down the middle, and she had two small French braids adorning each side. She looked like the stereotypical coffee shop type.

"I'm not a big fan of pumpkin." He commented.

"Hmmm…what about caramel?"

"It's alright; I think I'm going to go with the white chocolate mocha."

"Ick." She commented "I'm Gabriella by the way."

"Troy." He commented shaking her outstretched hand.

"So tell me Gabriella do you always approach good looking men in coffee shops?"

"Tell me Troy, do you always hold yourself at such a high standard." She shot back smartly.

Troy awoke abruptly from his dream; thinking back to that night he could remember everything so clearly leading up to their downfall. He and Gabriella spent that whole night just talking and from then on were pretty much inseparable. Things were glided right along for about two years and then Troy turned twenty one and that's when everything went downhill. He shook his head trying to shake his thoughts of her away. He needed a drink.

If there was one thing Troy Bolton loved it was tequila. Sure he loved whiskey and gin and many other dark liquors, but nothing burned as good as a little Jose Cuervo, and currently he was throwing back his eighth shot. He slammed the small glass object on the table nearly shattering it.

"One more." His husky voice floated across the bar, as he directed a command at the young bartender.

"Coming right up, man."

Seconds later another glass was placed in front of him, he downed and smiled his buzz was borderline drunk and now all he had to do was find a girl to pass the time. He surveyed the area, squinting his eyes to make things more stable. Then he saw her. At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, that he had just mistaken her identity. He roughly rubbed at his eyes and opened them again and still she was there in the corner booth, with a group of girls.

She was beautiful, he watched her as she tucked a curl behind and her and continued laughing before reaching for her water bottle. She never drank. Never touched alcohol a day in her life, she always reminded him of that fact, always reminded him that she was indeed too good for him. She wasn't always though; there was a point in time early on that they were perfect for each other, successful, and happy. Happy. He wasn't sure he even knew what that was anymore. He continued to watch her. She was happy, that he was sure of. Her laughter erupted from her mouth and she quickly covered her mouth to quiet the volume of it. She didn't even notice him. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her. He saw her once before. In a crowded bar with a group of people, good people. He knew he would never be what she wanted, what she needed, he had accepted that fact a long time ago. That's why he never pursued it. Truth be told he had driven her away. Still he kept his eyes glued on her, he watched as she politely excused herself and stood, and looked in his direction, her face fell immediately, he quickly turned around in his stool and tried to cover his face from her view. But he knew she had seen him, he could feel her eyes burning into his back. It was as if the bar suddenly went silent and all that could be heard where her heels clicking against the hardwood floors.

"Hi." It was a simple greeting, and he almost lost it just at the sound of her voice. He cleared his throat and looked up at her. She was in short stunning, her small brown dress hugged to her petite frame, her tall boots fit her small legs perfectly and her long ebony hair, curled to perfection splayed across her shoulders.

"Hey." It was all he could muster.

"How are you?"

"Good."

"Yeah I see that." She replied glancing at the shot glasses surrounding him.

"How are you?" He asked choosing to ignore her comment.

"Fine." Her reply was flimsy and meek.

He looked in her eyes, and in that moment he knew he could spill a thousand apologies and promises and they could try and work things out, but instead he stood and slid his jacket on.

"It was good to see you." He said it quickly not even giving her a chance to reply and he was gone.

He fell back against the brick of the building and slid to the concrete. He couldn't breathe. He had been lying to his self for so long. He wanted her. Wanted to be good enough for her. He loved her. He felt the tears running down his face, touching his lips, salty to taste. He didn't even try to stop them.