On with the story

Disclaimer: I don't own it! Actually none at all, even the plot :(

Just a Sliver of Life

Dear Miss. Montez,

I would like to start off by giving my deepest condolences for the loss of your beloved father. If you don't know already, your father was an instrumental part to our dear Albuquerque community. Mario Montez was the one to come in and build this place from the ground up, starting with the creation of Montez's Department store. Not only had the store been the foundation of our town, but it has also been a supporter for many of the community events and other working foundations. That is where I come in, as director of the Albuquerque Home for Boys; I look forward to the Montez's Department store donation around the holiday season in order to meet the many costs that the house and season requires. This house is vital to those boys in our town that face unfortunate circumstances, much like I did as a child. This house, although quite large and meets our needs, is over thirty five years old, and well, repairs are needed. I know that at this time, you are trying to adjust to handling the business yourself, but I would just like to make sure that you consider this donation when you sort out the money, that and the fact that your father was actually the only supporter of the house. He was always close to this place and the young boys in it. Please, I hope you consider our cause as a time worthy investment.

Sincerely,

Troy Bolton

Director of the Albuquerque Home for Boys

His eyes skimmed quickly over the text over and over again. Was he being too forward? Groveling? Did he sound pathetic? After a while, when he felt that the text was burned into his retinas, he threw his head back and relieved a big sigh. This is what he hated most, he spent his whole childhood begging for a chance, for something, and here he was, a thirty three grown man having to beg for money from a wealthy heiress that was already rumored to care nothing about her father's business. But unfortunately that was his life, he was just glad that a troubled kid like him found something like Mr. Reed (known as Uncle Ray) that cared enough about him to turn him around, and that was the only thing that was keeping him around this dump. In retrospect, the house was far from a dump, sure it needed a coat of paint, some new carpet, and the heater didn't do anything, but it was all the boys knew, heck it was all Troy ever knew. He never liked to dwell on his past- his abandonment father, dead mother, long lost relatives (if there were any, not like any of them cared), and crappy childhood, but it was a part of him, a part of why he stayed around for those younger boys that were in his care.

"Uncle Troy!" his thoughts disrupted, not like that never happened before. A short, pudgy eleven year old slid into the room, with the top spherical part of the stair banister in his hand. The red hair, freckles were prominent in his features.

"Mark, what have I told you about sliding down that banister." The evidence was enough for him to conclude what the young boy had done.

"I swear it just came off." The older male rolled his eyes as he walked out of his office, taking the banister sphere out of Mark's grasp along the way. Leaving the room only gave way to more chaos as he came to face with a quite tall Jeremy, standing at 5'5 at the age of fourteen, he was the oldest out of the group, hence Troy's right hand man in times of difficulty.

"Hey do we have the money Uncle Troy?" his smile was prominent on his fare face, blue eyes full of worry and wild blonde hair.

"Jer, I have told you already…umpf" Troy was taken by surprise by the force to his legs. Looking down, the culprit was obvious. "Nikko," he pulled the five year old into his grasp and tickled him, "what are you doing?" Quickly, he forced the active boy into Jeremy's arms and rubbed his hands together, taking in the hectic scene in front of him. "Okay… now boys, Jeremy, like I said money is my problem not yours, Mark, don't slide down the banister again…" he peered over to Jake, viciously knocking on the bathroom door, "GREG get out of the bathroom, Evan go get your bag together, and…" he quickly looked over at Nikko in Jeremy's arms and realized what was missing from his attire, "where is Nikko's left shoe. Okay people, change in plans, find that shoe!" Without another word, boys plus man were crawling on the floor looking for that one missing shoe. As he looked under that hallway table, he let out a deep sigh, eight o'clock in the morning and the day was just starting- that was his life!

Just so you are not confused, I will give you descriptions of the kids since I won't be able to fit that into the story, their backgrounds, though, will be revealed with time:

Jeremy- 14 year old that has blonde hair and blue eyes, he comes off as the protector of the younger children, and becoming a teenage

Greg- 13 year old with brown curly hair and green eyes, becoming more of a teenage each and every day

Mark- 11 year old with fair skin, red hair, and freckles (the epitome of Irish) that is the trouble maker of the group (even though he denies it)

Evan- 11 year old with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes of who has been labeled the happy one of the group. He plays to the beat of his own drum and loves anything that puts him into the center of attention

Jake- 9 year old with blonde curly hair and ocean blue eyes, he's predicted to be the heartbreaker (he already brags about his 'girlfriend') and loves to emulate the older boys

Nikko- 5 year old with short spiky dirty blonde hair and the greenest eyes, he's the baby of the group and out of the six boys, his story is beyond heartbreaking. He is always ready to go and a ball full of energy (sometimes too much for Troy to handle).