Disclaimer: Don't own HSM. Never have never will.

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'Troy! Dinner's ready!'

Troy looked up at the sound of his mother's voice. He had previously been contemplating the photo that remained on his nightstand. He had been ushered up to his bedroom that to take a nap after he had finished his coffee and found himself in a room completely untouched by the hands of time. It remained perfect, just as he had left it, a shrine to its previous owner. Nothing had been moved; from the basketball trophies that filled the walls right down to the pictures he had left behind.
Like the one in his hands. He had found it after hours of tossing and turning, bringing him to the realization he wouldn't be sleeping that afternoon. He rolled over and found the picture staring down at him and suddenly he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Troy sighed, dropping his eyes back to it. The Wildcats as he remembered them. He wasn't sure who took the photo because every single one of them was included in the image before him. They were all gathered around one another, clad in vibrant graduation robes. Chad was the first face that drew attention, his face contorted in an ecstatic yell. Taylor was swept up in his arms, forever frozen in mid-giggle. Beside them was Kelsi, grinning madly with her arms thrown around her boyfriend excitedly. Ryan had his hand clutching onto his twin's, who was clinging onto Zeke's back. And there in the middle of it all was them. 18, innocent and unknowing. They stood just in front of all their friends, entwined with one another tightly as if they were the only two in the world. His hand rested on her cheek and she stared up at him giddily, her dark eyes sparkly and full of all the things he used to know.
How it used to be.
Before the storm.
Troy traced their outlines morosely; that pair in the picture were in love. They didn't know that in less than two years they would be engaged only to have the rug torn from underneath them and their worlds upended. They could never have known that they would wind up here.
Here.
Where exactly was that? He was single, lonely and living in LA. None of those things had ever been part of his plan. He had the fame and the fans but looking down at their faces, frozen happily in time it suddenly seemed so hollow. The life he was leading wasn't the life that the romantic, idealistic 18-year old had once planned.

'Troy! Come downstairs! Dinner's on the table!'

Groaning, Troy pushed himself up off the bed, placing the photo back on the nightstand.

'I'm coming mom!'

Troy wandered down the stairs and into the kitchen where both of his parents were already sitting around the table.

'Did we wake you Troy?' his mother asked concernedly.

'Nah,' he shook his head, 'Just…looking around at some of my old things. Really takes you back,'

Jack grinned, as his son took a seat beside him, 'Your mother only goes in there to clean it. She says she wanted to leave it just as you left it!'

'For the sake of sentimentality!' his wife hissed.

'Who cares about sentimentality! The boy hasn't been home in almost a decade! A pool table would be more at home in the room!'

Troy rolled his eyes, cutting over his parent's banter, 'Can I eat? Please? I'm starving!'

'Oh of course baby,' his mother said softly, 'Your plate is on the counter,'

As Troy moved toward the kitchen counter to retrieve his steak his father broke in.

'Is it really wise for you to be eating whatever you please Troy? You do want a basketball career to go home to right?'

Troy sighed, taking his seat beside his mother, 'Dad, it's steak and mashed potatoes, not a Big Mac and fries,'

'Son,' his father advised sternly, 'I'm concerned for your career, that's all,'

'I know dad,' Troy replied, shrugging, 'But you have no idea how long it's been since I ate a meal that hasn't been entirely planned by a uptight nutritionist?'

Before his father could volley back another well-meant warning the phone rang. Troy's mother tenderly wrapped her hand around her husbands wrist and smiled, 'Jack, honey, maybe you should get that,'

Jack sighed, pushing himself away from the table, 'Fine,'

He lumbered over to the incessant phone and scooped it up, while Troy and Lucille resumed conversation.

'So baby,' his mother coaxed, 'Tell me…everything. Do you have a girlfriend?'

'Mom,' Troy whined, 'Come on!'

'What? I'm trying to be involved in my baby's life!' Lucille defended.

'I'm 25 mom,' Troy said condescendingly.

'I know, I know!' she cried, 'So…girlfriend?'

Troy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, 'No. No girlfriend…haven't for…years,'

'Hmm…' his mother hummed, 'I can't imagine why!'

Troy dipped his eyes away from his mothers, paying extra attention to the way he cut his steak. Maybe his mother couldn't imagine why but…he knew exactly why.

Gabriella Montez.

It was and always would be Gabriella Montez. No matter how many dates he went out on, no matter how many beautiful women he met in LA, none of them could ever size up. From the moment he shook hands with them they were already, unknowingly, being compared to a girl they'd never met. Their hands were bigger, their fingers were shorter. Their hair was too blonde, their eyes too blue. They laughed too loud, they didn't eat dessert. They weren't Gabriella.
It had been five years and still she was everywhere he went. And he wasn't sure that would ever change.

'Of course,' Jack's rumbling voice cut over Troy's musings, 'It's good to know that you landed safely. I'm sure Lucille will call you before you leave, I know she's dying to catch up with you!'

Troy's mother turned her head at the sound of her own name. She frowned at her husband curiously and cocked her head to wait for his answer.

'Ok, well I'll let you go then. It was nice to hear from you! Talk to you later Gabriella,'

Troy's heart lurched as his father uttered that name. That hadn't been what he was expecting. He wasn't prepared. He closed his eyes, painfully trying to regain control of his pulse.

'Was that Gabriella?' his mother asked curiously as Jack made his way back to the table.

'Yeah, she just called to say that she landed safely in Albuquerque and that she wanted to catch up before she went back home,'

'Oh that sounds lovely!'

'Gabriella?' Troy asked, his voice strangled and choked, 'Gabriella called here?'

'Yes sweetie,' his mother replied hesitantly.

'Why? Why would she call here?'

'Honey…we're…friends with Gabriella. We stayed friends. Is that a problem?'

'Uh…no…' Troy stumbled, 'It's…not a problem. I just…didn't know!'

'Well,' Lucille frowned, 'We didn't realize it would mean that much to you. We're just old friends who keep in touch from time to time,'

Troy nodded mutely, looking back intently at his steak. That was a lot to process. His parents and Gabriella. His Gabriella.

'So…uh…' Troy started uncomfortably, desperate to drive the conversation anywhere by his ex-fiancée, 'Uh…this is wonderful steak Mom!'

Lucille launched herself into an excited babble about the sale that she got on the meat and Troy allowed himself to tune out, his own thoughts drowning her voice out.

Gabriella Montez, in the same town as he was. They were mere blocks away for the first time in five years.

Troy nodded as his mother continued to gush incessantly, still chewing on his steak. His mind was reeling. What did he do about her?

Troy couldn't sleep.

It was as simple as that. After years of sleeping on a custom-made, orthopaedic mattress supplied by the team sponsor, coming home to his childhood mattress was a culture shock.
At least that's what he'd tell himself. He could blame out-jutting springs and lumpy stuffing because that was the easiest way to go. It was far simpler than saying the only thing keeping sleep at bay was a certain brunette's face, constantly swimming before his eyes.
It was easier to blame the bed because it didn't force emotions to resurface dangerously. Emotions that should have drowned years ago.

Troy glanced at the clock, glowing on his nightstand. 11pm. Most nights in LA he wouldn't even be at home by this hour, let alone in bed.

Troy fidgeted beneath the comforter restlessly. His legs were twitching with built up energy that came from mere thoughts of Gabriella. He hated to think what it would be like if he ever saw her again.
Seeing her again.
There was a thought that had always been a distant musing for him. One day, someday, eventually. He had honestly never expected it to happen. Even if she did see him she'd probably walk in the opposite direction. But suddenly…he had been presented with a new scenario. Together in the town of their final high school years, their town.

His surplus energy spiked and he jerked bolt upright. He tossed off the comforter and leapt out of bed. Quietly he padded out of his bedroom and along the hall to the top of the stairs. His father's snores racketed loudly from the room behind him and Troy sighed. It was safe to say his parents were asleep.
Barefoot, Troy made his way down the stairs and into the office. If his parents were still in contact with Gabriella Montez they had to have her phone number…somewhere.
Determination setting his jaw, Troy began his search for the number. He wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do if he found it but right then, he only knew that he needed it.

Feeling oddly like a child again, Troy siphoned through scraps of paper piling up on the desk. Yard maintenance guys, hedge trimmers, and newspaper clippings announcing Lakers wins. In his search Troy unearthed towers of tabloids with his own face splashed across the cover with, more often than not, derogatory slurs underneath them. Bolton Bites Back Tears. Troy's Tragic Terror – The Secret Past He Doesn't Want You To Know About.

Troy snorted, tossing the magazines back onto the floor. He had to ensure his mother recycled them in the morning.
Finally he found it. A small book with a trite illustration of kittens playing with yarn on the front. His holy grail.

With a newfound anticipation suddenly pulsing through his veins Troy flicked to the 'M' index. His thumbed through his Aunt Marjorie's number, and his mother's best friend Catherine Malone. He found the number for their dentist and the new pizza place Mario's.

And then…

Montez.

There, in his mother's messy black scrawl was the number he'd spent hours look for.

G Montez.

Biting his lip Troy snatched a piece of paper from the desk and copied down the number. He had it. Finally.

After all these years and it was his parents who offered him another chance to talk to her.

Suddenly struck with excitement Troy pulled out his cell phone. It didn't matter that it was almost midnight by now. It didn't matter that she'd probably panic when she saw his name. It didn't matter that she'd probably buy a ticket for the first flight out of Albuquerque to wherever she lived now. He had her number, and that was enough.

Impulse fuelling his every move, Troy tapped out a hasty message. Before reason could kick in his fingers scrambled over the send button. He took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut. He shouldn't send it. He shouldn't send it. He shouldn't send it.
His phone sang at him and Troy opened his eyes again, looking down at the screen.

Message Sent.

Hours after the Wildcats had disbanded, Gabriella found herself lying on the bed in her mother's guest room, staring at the ceiling. Her mother's house… It always would be "her mother's house" never her own. After Gabriella graduated from Stanford and announced her intentions to flee California her mother had packed up and returned to Albuquerque to take a position of seniority in her company. With this new move she bought a new house in a new neighbourhood and led a new life without her daughter. Every time Gabriella visited her mother she always felt uncomfortable and unwelcome in the house she'd never lived in.

Sighing, Gabriella rolled over onto her stomach. This hadn't been what she had envisioned for her first day back in Albuquerque. She had hoped her mom would at least have been home for dinner on the eve of her homecoming. No such luck. What was she supposed to do now?
As an answer to her thoughts her stomach whined loudly and Gabriella groaned. That was what she was supposed to do.

Swinging herself from the bed, Gabriella got up and padded her way down the stairs. She wondered what Taylor and Chad were doing. She knew that they had agreed to go back to see Chad's parents for dinner on their first night but unfortunately for Gabriella that left her high and dry.

At the sound of her insistent stomach Gabriella wandered into the kitchen. Blindly she fumbled around until she located the light switch, which blinked to life, shedding a bright, unnatural light on the room.
As she began to scratch through her mother's freezer, Gabriella contemplated her conversation with Jack Bolton earlier that evening. He said Lucy really wanted to catch up with her before she left town.
Try as she might though, Gabriella struggled to imagine herself facing Lucille and Jack Bolton again. She had done so dutifully for years after Troy left for both their sakes. Five years ago they had all needed consoling: Troy had morphed into something none of them recognized. He had broken up and moved away from woman he loved more than life itself without warning and in his wake left two devastated parents and one ex-fiancée. In that time Gabriella focused on Lucille's grief and concern rather than think about her own shattered life. It was her coping mechanism.

But that was five years ago.

Since then she'd emailed them from time to time to update them on their almost-daughter-in-law's life. She sent them a Christmas card and every year without fail they'd send a birthday card in return.
They'd been far too kind to her, far too hospitable to their only son's ex-fiancée. They didn't have any duty to be decent to her, let alone kind. As Ryan had said before, they would always have loyalties to him. She should be thankful.
Gabriella nodded, finally yanking a Lean Cuisine box from the freezer. She would definitely call Lucille Bolton. She owed them a visit at the very least.

Ten minutes later and Gabriella found herself sitting on the kitchen bench, chewing on her frozen lasagne. From where she sat she could see out into the quiet suburban street. Not a soul moved or made a noise outside and with each bite Gabriella took she became increasingly aware of her solitude.

Suddenly her cell phone burst to life, effectively shattering the silence. At the unexpected sound Gabriella shrieked and flailed off the kitchen bench, knocking her fork with her. It clattered to the ground beside her, echoing resolutely through the house.

Gabriella snatched the phone of the bench and quieted it. Once the silence settled again, she winced standing up. She waited hesitantly for angry neighbours with pitchforks and wailing police sirens but was greeted with only more silence.

Rolling her eyes, Gabriella turned her attention back to the source of calamity. She glanced down at the phone in her hands, with it's lit screen.

One New Message.

Perplexed, Gabriella opened it. Number Unknown.

She frowned curiously. Why would someone whose number she didn't possess be texting her at 11:48pm? Curiosity overcoming her, she scrolled down to read the message.

Hey Gabi. This is Troy Bolton. How r u?

Gabriella swore her heart stopped. For a second her heart ceased to beat in her chest, and she was rendered senseless.
She was swept with a bizarre numb sensation as she stared disbelievingly at the screen. The hand clenched around her cell phone loosened, and it dangled dangerously from her limp fingertips. She blinked owlishly, certain that she was dreaming.

Carefully, Gabriella looked back at the screen. This is Troy Bolton.

No. There was no mistaking those little letters there in black and white. It definitely spelt out his name.

She frowned, scanning it again. How r u?

It had been five years since he walked out of their apartment, and then…suddenly… How r u?

How did she respond to that? Did she respond at all? What was she supposed to do?

Sucking in a few breaths, Gabriella steadied herself against the kitchen counter. That was unexpected. What did he expect her to say?

Unsteadily, Gabriella pulled herself back up onto the granite. She crossed her legs into a yoga pose, placing the offending phone in her lap.
It was Troy. Troy Bolton. After five years. And he was casually asking how she was. She…she could deal with that.

Her initial, irrational reaction was throw the phone as far as she could and buy a brand new one with a brand new number the second she got back to Manhattan.

Once she had attempted a few more, deep, cleansing breaths, she became a little more lucid. She could ignore him. Not respond at all. Pretend she never got the message. He'd never know any different.
Satisfied, Gabriella laid her phone beside her. That was it. She would forget that ever happened.

She resumed eating her now-cold lasagne, making certain to concentrate on every bite. Up. Down. Up. Down. She wondered where Troy got her number. Did he deliberately seek it out? Did he just find it and decide on a whim that it would be nice to catch up?
Gabriella glanced back at her phone, glowing with the neglected message. Hey Gabi.
Gabi. Just…casual, like it hadn't been half a decade since they'd exchanged a single word. How could he do that?

She pondered his intentions. Was he bored? Curious? Waving a white flag? What did he want?
It would be so easy to ignore the message, delete it and move on. She could not reply and her life would go on as it had been since he left. Nothing would change, everything would stay the same.
But, the niggling voice in the back of her mind reminded her that it wasn't that simple. They had been together for so many years. They had seen each other through high school and for the greatest portion of college. They'd been engaged, ready to start a life together and the best of friends for a very long time. Despite her bare finger she would always bear a certain amount of fondness for her first love. It was the way life worked.
She could always reply to the message. What would it hurt to reply to an old friend?

Gabriella plucked her phone back from the bench and opened a new message.

Hello Troy.

She frowned, biting her lip. No… it didn't fit quite right. It was too formal, too uptight. She needed to sound…casual about the whole ordeal.

Hey Wildcat.

She shook her head, frantically tapping the delete key to erase the letters. Too casual. This replying was far too difficult.

What a surprise! You were the last person I was expecting to hear from. I'm good. What about you?

Gabriella scanned over the message meticulously. I'm good. That didn't imply anything, left everything uncomplicated. Just how it needed to be.

Message Sent.

Troy honestly hadn't been expecting a reply. Because…honestly, why would she reply? They hadn't spoken in five years, why would she start now?

But when his screen flashed, shedding blue light in the dark living room Troy swelled with excitement. He read over the message quickly, savouring the fact that somewhere in Albuquerque Gabriella Montez was awake, thinking of him too.

It's great to hear from u. I've been good 2. I heard ur in Albuquerque.

He pressed the sent button firmly, and sat back, trying to ignore the butterflies pooling in his stomach. Now he waited…

Gabriella honestly wished that she hadn't pounced on the phone the second it began to signal his reply. She honestly wished that she wasn't beginning to feel restless and twitchy like a teenage girl again.

Yeah I am. Just for a while. How did you get this number anyway?

She rapped her painted nails nervously against the screen, waiting for him again. He didn't disappoint when moments later her phone vibrated.

Hijacked it from my mom. I heard u were in town thought I'd catch up with u.

He heard she was in town…and stole the number from his mother. That meant two things. He wanted to talk to her and he was also…

So r u in town 2?

Gabriella found herself biting her lip, eyes wide. He…he couldn't be in town. Not after all these years. He just…couldn't.

Yep. Visiting the folks for a while. Y r u here?

She volleyed back almost instantaneously.

Tay dragged me. I had no choice.

Lol. Sounds like Tay. R u staying with all the wildcats?

He knew that all the Wildcats were in town. Did Chad know Troy was going to be in Albuquerque when he put her on the plane? Gabriella made a mental note to strangle him the next time she saw him.

No. We're all staying with our own parents. Expect Ry and Kels who are staying at Sharpay's.

Before Troy knew it, hours were sliding away and they were rapidly approaching dawn. He sat, hunched over his phone, tapping away in reply to her rapid messages. They didn't discuss anything important, certain to skirt their way around anything that could be classed as difficult. But the more he spoke to her, the more questions he found filling his head. He was brimming with pleas and wonder about the girl he felt he barely knew anymore. He needed…more.

Unbidden, his fingers began to dance over the keys of his phone. He no longer had any self-control, his instincts taking over. He didn't even have a chance to glance down at the message that he knew he shouldn't send before he tapped the button, sending his heart into cyberspace. Crap.

The phone vibrated in Gabriella's hand, and instantly she opened it.

Would u like to catch up with me tomorrow night?

Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip hesitantly. Sending him messages was one thing but…face to face? Could she handle that? He had been her friend for so long but things were different now…

Her sharp, geniuses brain took control and Gabriella found herself replying with the only answer she could.

Yes.

Who are you now, are you still the same or did you change somehow?
What do you do at this very moment when I think of you?
And when I'm looking back on how we were young and stupid.
Do you remember that?