AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It means a lot to me and again, special kudos to ibelieveintruelove.
Anyways, lots of drama on this one. The angst writer in me totally enjoyed writing this despite that fact that finishing this fourth chapter was a pain in the behind. I had a lot to put in the chapter but after writing it, I just hated the end result. This went through tons of revisions and rewrites and even now, I'm still not a fan. Actually, in the first draft of this chapter, Troy actually confronts Gabriella and it is revealed why Gabriella left Troy but I just didn't like putting all the drama in one long chapter so I decided to move it to the next chapter.
The shit really hits the fan on this one and a good dose of swearing from a certain Troy Bolton… enjoy.
Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing.
Italics - flashbacks
… Might As Well Make It Bleed
Don't panic. No need to panic.
"Uncle Ryaaaaan."
That boy just keeps on running.
Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. I'm so dead.
"Troy?" I try calling his name to take his attention away from the boisterous five year coming our way. "Troy?"
"Troy?!?" I try again.
Dead. Dead. Dead.
"Troy!" He turns around.
Huh, finally he turns around. Wait, I didn't call him that last time.
I look ahead and see blonde middle-aged guy wearing a business suit power walking towards Troy, looking stressed and haggard.
"Troy, thank god I finally found you. I've been looking everywhere. They moved up the meeting which means that we are officially," he takes a look at his watch and continues, "eighteen minutes late. Not that it matters since I own the damn company but we need to go."
Troy just stands there and then looks back at a now distracted Tyler who is playing with a dog.
"Now, Troy!" The man bellows.
"Coming Gerard. No need to put your panties in a bunch." Troy retorts.
Looking peeved, Gerard starts heading out of the park.
Troy sends me one of his boyish grins, one his trademarks that made every teenage girl back in our high school days swoon, and says, "Duty calls. We should meet up for dinner with your sister later. I'll call you." I see him hesitate for a second and take one last look at Tyler. Slightly shaking his head, he absently waves goodbye and jogs off to catch up with a peeved Gerard who is impatiently waiting by the gates, tapping his feet intolerantly.
Once Troy is out of sight, I immediately hurry to Tyler's side and send a prayer to the gods along the way for preventing a very disastrous first meeting from happening.
"Uncle Ryan, is Mama allergic to dogs?" Tyler immediately asks me when I come to stand next to him.
He is still playing with the dog – a golden retriever if I'm not mistaken and I cringe when I see the dog slobber all over Tyler's cheek. The dog's owner profusely apologizes and tries to restrain his dog but Tyler's giggles stops him. He shrugs his shoulder and sends me a rueful glance. I just smile in return.
"I don't think so buddy." I distractedly reply, looking for the baby wipes that Gabriella always packs in Tyler's 'outing back'.
Finding the pack, I take it out and I give one to Tyler so he could wipe his dog germ-infested cheek.
Taking the baby wipe, he looks up at me with his adorable blue eyes and says, "Do you think Mama will get me one?"
"If you ask nicely, maybe."
He slightly frowns but continues to play with the dog.
Kneeling at Tyler's level, I look him in the eye and conspiratorially whisper, "Lemme tell you a little secret, your mom is a sucker for your big blue eyes and pout. So when you ask, enlarge those eyes of yours and extend your lower lip a little… just like that. Pout some more… yeah, your Mom's a goner."
He looks at me with that puppy dog eyes of his and sends me a heart melting pout.
"Goner, no question about it."
Tyler's pout transforms into a big smile and he goes back to playing with the dog.
"So, you're corrupting my son now?"
I turn around and see Gabriella standing behind me, arms crossed trying to look stern but the mirth in her eyes gives her away.
Putting my hands up in mock defense, I counter, "Hey, its all him" and nods my head towards the boy in question's direction.
"Mama!"
Tyler runs up to Gabriella and she picks him up and kisses his cheek.
Pointing at the dog, he exclaims, "Can I get one Mama? Can I? Can I?"
Pausing, Gabriella looks at the dog and takes her time answering.
"Mama?"
She shakes her head and is about to open her mouth to answer when I see Tyler's lips begin to quiver and his eyes moisten. He sends his mother the infamous puppy-dog eye look and Gabriella's resolve start to crumble.
She takes another glance at the dog and says, "I'll think about it."
Tyler's lower lip extends a little bit more. He tilts his head to the side and bats his eyes for a good measure.
Gabriella bites her lower lip and slowly says, "Ah, uh, well-" she rolls her eyes and sighs, "fine. We'll go to a pound and adopt one."
He plants a big one on her cheek and literally whoops.
Smirking, I comment, "Atta boy."
Gabriella glares at me and I just shrug my shoulders.
"Oh, look at the time" pointing at my watch, "I need to get to rehearsals." I pat Tyler's head, send Gabriella a smile and runs out of the park.
On my way out, I hear Tyler ask, "Can we go now, Mama? Can we get a dog now?"
"Have you always been this stubborn and persistent?"
Their voices fade into the distance but it was loud enough for me to hear Tyler jubilantly exclaim, "After we get our dog, can I show him to Papa?"
"What?!?"
Oh ooh.
In an office building a few blocks away, Troy Bolton is trying to hold his annoyance in check while half-heartedly listening to his colleagues discuss the latest mergers and budget reports.
Because of this, Troy barely catches the end of Gerard's spiel about increasing the company's efficiency "…centralizing certain treasury operations makes sound business sense, hell, it's the our best bet given the situation but determining the appropriate procedures and even carrying out the authorization requires a hell lot of planning. Right, Troy?"
Troy just absently nods his head in agreement but Gerard's warning glare prompts him to add, "I mean, of course. If we want to enhance our corporate control, we have to take into consideration centralization. Once we centralize our company's banking structure, we can at least cut down on borrowing and even get a better handle on the cash flows of our business."
Gerard smiles proudly at Troy and continues on to explain the many benefits of centralization.
Troy's mind, on the other hand returns back to a certain brown-haired boy that Ryan is looking after. For the last few minutes, since Gerard and Troy joined the meeting, all he can think about is the little boy endearingly playing with the golden retriever in the park. There is nothing special about the boy, really. Troy would like to think that he could pass him on the street and not even be bothered but a part of him knows that something about the boy just sent warning signs ringing around him. As if meeting the boy is something that is meant to happen.
It has been awhile since he's thought of Gabriella Montez. In fact, every time a memory involving that particular ex-girlfriend of his (not that they officially broke up) comes up, he tries his hardest to suppress the memory – failing time and time again because as much as he hated to admit it, despite the hurt and anguish Gabriella's departure left in its wake, he cherishes those moments. And now, seeing that little boy brings so many memories – most, if not all of em' involve Gabriella somehow. Maybe it's because his dark brown curls remind him of Gabriella's hair. Or maybe it's his smile that sends his mind overdrive with recollections of a laughing Gabriella. And for some unexplainable reason, despite the distance, Troy is more than willing to bet that the boy's eyes are blue. There is just something about him that captures Troy's attention – a sense of recognition that sweeps over him the minute he first lays eyes on the boy Ryan is babysitting.
Perhaps he's one of those boys he has seen in the commercials. Considering Ryan's line of work, it wouldn't be surprising if he babysits a struggling actress' son.
"Troy?"
Or maybe what Ryan said is true, that 'once you've seen a kid, you've seen em' all'. Troy inwardly scoffs at that.
Louder this time, "Troy?"
I mean, he has seen his fair share of blue-eyed, brown haired children so what is it about this boy that has piqued his interest to the point that for the first time ever, he isn't paying attention in a meeting.
"Troy Bolton?!?"
"Huh?" Troy blinks several times before realizing that the once occupied conference room is now empty, leaving only him and Gerard.
Rolling his eyes, Gerard remarks, "The meeting's over. Not that you would have noticed considering for the last half hour or so, you've zoned out and has totally been staring off into the distance."
Troy rubs his neck and sheepishly replies, "Sorry. I just got a lot on my mind right now."
"This is why you need to take a little vacation, my boy. You work 24/7 and if you're not in the office, you're at East High, making plays and strategies with your dad" Closing his briefcase, Gerard continues, "You need a break – a much needed one at that."
Sighing, "I'm perfectly fine."
"You are working yourself to death, Troy. I mean, your determination and perseverance are one of the things that I admire about you. Even as an intern for my company years ago, you went above and beyond your normal duties. That's how you earned your right as my protégé and successor for this company. But you are no use to me sick and dead from exhaustion."
Troy smiles and replies, "Forty-five is not that old, you've still got many years ahead of you before we actually start considering successors and all that. And besides, I'm only twenty four, Gerard. You've got years of mentoring and training before I'm ready to take over the company."
"Huh, this is the first time you've acknowledged your future position in my company."
"Well, with you reminding me every minute, it is not that hard to forget", Troy pauses and then says, "But are you sure? I mean, you have more experienced employees that can take over for your company, Gerard."
"But none of them are you. You remind me of myself and as much as I hate to say this, at your age, you've displayed talent in this business that I've only managed to master in my late twenties. I couldn't imagine handing my company to anyone else, my boy. Now what do you say about heading out of here?"
Troy smiles and shakes his head, "Let's go then."
"By the way, I'm serious about that vacation, Troy."
"Gerard -"
"In fact, it's a mandate. You are taking a vacation, per the request of your boss, effective as of this minute."
Before Troy could protest, Gerard sends him a pointed glare and Troy knew that he would only waste his breath from complaining.
"Fine", Troy says, "But I'm only taking a week off. That's it."
"I was only giving you the weekend off since I thought you would start complaining if I gave you a week but if you want a week, then a week it is." Smiling, Gerard leaves the room.
"No no no, the weekend is fine. Let's stick to a weekend vacation."
Gerard just laughs, "No, you are getting a week."
Smacking his forehead, Troy just follows Gerard out of the room and contemplates how to get of the week long vacation he found himself in.
Putting Tyler on the ground, I ask, "Ty, what do you mean about showing Papa the dog?"
Distracted, he replies, "Well, I saw Papa talking to Uncle Ryan", not realizing the magnitude of the situation, Tyler continues on to say, "Mama, I'm still hungry."
That bitch. I can't believe she already told Troy.
Tyler tugs at my jeans and pulls me along to the hotdog stand. I absentmindedly follow.
Geez, calm down, Gabriella. You only talked to Sharpay like an hour ago. There is no way that Troy could fly from Albuquerque to New York in such a short time.
"Baby, did you talk to Daddy?"
He shakes his head no.
I take an inward sigh of relief.
"Three please."
Looking ahead, I see Tyler already by the hotdog stand and ordering.
"Oh, wait, Mister", he looks at me and ask, "Mama, do you want one too?"
I tell him no and the vendor hands my son the three hotdogs. Troy would be proud to know that not only does his son excel in basketball; he's got the famous Bolton appetite down to a pat. I take my wallet out and hand over the cash while Tyler struggles to hold onto two of the hotdogs while eating the other.
Smiling, I take the other hotdog and say, "What do I always say, Ty?"
Mid-bite, he answers, "Never speak with your mouth full."
"No."
Momentarily forgetting his hotdog, he thinks for a moment.
He instantly smiles and says, "Never scarf down my food really fast."
"Good boy."
I lead my son to the nearby benches and waits for him to finish his food.
It seems the meeting with Troy is inevitable at this point. And here I am thinking that I could wait for another week, a month even before I travel to Albuquerque to tell Troy about Tyler. I've never been much of a procrastinator but evidently, I am when it comes to matters concerning my son and his father.
Taking a glance at Tyler, my heart breaks at the fact that for the last five years, he's grown up without a father figure. And I know that it is because of me that he doesn't have one. I know that Troy would have been an excellent father. He would revel in the moments where he could bond with his son over basketball. He would be an overprotective father who makes sure that Tyler grows up as a respectable and honorable young man.
There are times when I questioned my decision in leaving Albuquerque the way I did. Times like when Tyler comes home on Father's Day holding onto a card that he tries in vain to hide from me or when he asks me about his father for the first time a year ago. The first time he asked me, I'm left speechless, unsure of what to say or how much to divulge. The second time he asked me, I hesitated but when he looked up at me with those lucent blue eyes of his that reminded me so much of his father, I told him everything – well, at least the Reader's Digest version of it. I showed him pictures, videos of the school play and told him that his Papa is making a name for himself. I don't know if he fully understood, I mean he was only four. But after awhile, he stopped asking about his father. Tyler tried to hide holiday/birthday/special occasion cards that he made while in daycare. He never mentioned his father and I never fully understood why until I overheard him asking Ryan about Troy one day.
"Uncle Ryan?" Laying on his bed and holding onto a basketball, a four year old Tyler tries to get a hold of Ryan's attention.
Ryan looks up from his laptop and answers nonchalantly, " Shouldn't you be still asleep?"
Tyler blinks a few times, still tired from his afternoon nap.
"Can you tell me about Papa?"
That sure got Ryan's attention. He looks at Tyler and hesitates before answering.
"Um, why don't you ask your Mama, Ty?"
Sitting on his bed, Tyler replies, "I asked Mama. She showed me pictures of Papa singing at Twi- twi…"
"Twinkle Towne?" Ryan adds, seeing Tyler's difficulty in remembering the name of the play.
"Yeah, that one." He gets off the bed and goes to his mini dresser. Tyler reaches inside the lowest level drawer and moves some of his socks around until he pulls out a tiny photo album that is hidden, Ryan notices.
Tyler comes up to Ryan, opens the photo album and shows him pictures of Troy and Gabriella taken during the last two years in East High. Pictures from the Twinkle Towne production, the basketball championship, the Star Dazzle talent show, prom and finally graduation scatters throughout the album.
Tyler sends Ryan a worried glance and whispers, fearing that someone else might hear despite the fact that it is only him and Ryan at the house, "Don't tell Mama okay?"
"Why?"
"Mama doesn't know that I took this from her box."
Taking a hold of Tyler's hands, Ryan looks the boy in the eye and says, "Ty, your Mama's not going to get mad if you have pictures of your Papa."
Tyler just bites his lower lip.
"Look at me, you don't need to hide those pictures of your Dad away."
"I do."
"You don't need to, Ty." Ryan offers a reassuring smile.
Tyler hugs the photo album close to his chest and Ryan sees his eyes start to moisten.
"I asked Mama about Papa before. She told me he's in Albu…" Tyler looks at Ryan for help.
"Albuquerque."
Tyler nods his head in agreement and continues on to say, "…and she told me she left Papa and that Papa loves me. I don't really understand."
The four year old expression is a mixture of confusion, naiveté and sadness.
Ryan looks at the boy and sits there, clueless and, unsure of what to do or how to act.
"Mama started crying. I was in my room and I heard her crying because I asked about Papa."
"Ty…"
"I never wanted to make Mama cry. I promise."
Hugging the little boy, Ryan realizes why Tyler is asking about Troy.
"Is that why you don't ask your Mom about Troy?"
Tyler nods his head and says, "I don't want to make Mama cry no more."
"Oh, Tyler." Ryan sighs and just hugs the boy.
Outside Tyler's room, Gabriella Montez stands helplessly, running down her cheeks are tears that she doesn't even bother to wipe away.
After that day, I did everything to show Tyler that the topic of his father isn't something that he should be afraid of. I brought him a basketball set so he could somehow connect with his father. Pathetic, I know but at least it is something. And for the most part, it worked. Tyler didn't hide the photo album anymore. We even placed a picture of Troy by his night stand. But every now and then, especially around Father's Day and Troy's birthday, Tyler would get really quiet and I would see another hand made greeting card and gift added, hidden underneath his sock drawer.
My heart breaks every time I see those gifts and I realize how much I've managed to hurt my son indirectly by taking his father away from him.
Looking at him now, finishing his third hotdog with mustard stains on his shirt and ketchup around his mouth, I come to a conclusion – one that I should have made years ago, maybe it is high time that he meets his father.
"Ready to get that dog now?"
Forty five minutes later, the mother and son duo find themselves back in the park, with an additional member in tow, upon Tyler's insistence that he wanted to walk to walk his dog; christened 'Bubba' – a name she protested to.
Lena, the manager of the rescue dog pound ask Tyler, "So, what are you going to name this little one?"
Referring to the two month old Labrador she is carrying, Tyler didn't even bat an eye before excitedly blurting out, "Bubba. I'm calling him Bubba."
The two adults in the room stare oddly at the little boy.
Gabriella tentatively queries, "Baby, are you sure you wanna call him," her expression grimace, "Bubba?"
He nods his head fervently and repeats, "Bubba. He's my Bubba."
Gabriella just gives up questioning the boy's choice of name and gives in. She takes the pup from Lena, holds it up and declares, "Welcome to the family, Bubba."
Now, with Bubba along, Tyler and I head off into the park's playground. Upon reaching the area, I remind Tyler to stay close enough where I can see him. And with a simple 'yes', he leads the Labrador towards the swing set.
I observe the other people on the park before taking a seat at the nearby bench and reaching in my bag to pull A Thousand Splendid Suns. I open the book and with another glance in Tyler's direction, I begin reading, immersing myself into Hosseini's world.
Taking the scenic route back to their hotel, Troy Bolton and his boss Gerard Smith look like sore thumbs in the midst of the athletic wearing, casually dressed occupants of Central Park.
"I heard the Bahamas are -"
Snorting, Troy interrupts, "I am not going to the Bahamas, Gerard."
"Okay, how about LA? Visit that actress friend of yours?"
"Her name's Sharpay and no, the weekend -"
It is Gerard's turn to interrupt, saying "A week is enough to sight see and see all the tourist attractions in Hollywood?"
"Do I look like someone who enjoys taking a tour of celebrity's homes or shopping at Rodeo Drive?" Troy gives Gerard an incredulous glance.
His boss shrugs his shoulders in dismissal. "Fine, stay in New York then. Watch some Broadway plays. Roam Central Park like you did this afternoon with that guy who looks remarkably like Sharpay…"
The mere mention of Ryan brings back memories of a vivacious little boy that try as he might, won't leave his mind. And truth be told, Troy is getting annoyed by the minute as more and more images of the boy and Gabriella fills his head.
"Sometimes I forget that you're only twenty four."
An eyebrow is raised. "And your point is…"
Gerard stops mid stride and looks at his protégé before walking again. "Lemme guess, for your week long vacation, you'll fly back to Albuquerque, spend all your afternoons with the East High Wildcats. In the mornings, you'll go behind my back and call your secretary Alice so she can send all documents and reports in your home office so you can work on it."
His boss hits the nail right in the head.
Smirking, Gerard continues, "Judging from the look in your face, I'd say I hit the nail right in the head. You're a young, successful, not to mention Albuquerque's #1 Hottest Bachelor who should be out there, partying, dating and going out to clubs -"
"I am a young, full time employee of the Smith & Co. who by the way, makes his boss millions in revenue every year…" Troy adds in, correcting Gerard. "And it's nice to know that my boss would approve if I go to work with a hangover because I spent the night partying. I'll keep that in mind."
Gerard just rolls his eyes in exasperation and says, "There's no use arguing with you."
Ever since Troy Bolton started working at Smith & Co. at the tender of age of nineteen as an intern, he has buried himself in work, school and basketball. Set to attend Duke University at the fall of 2008, Troy spent only one semester before transferring to the University of Albuquerque. Troy knew that Gabriella's departure left him broken (his non-existent love life is a testament to this) and his need to be near his family and friends were the main reasons why he left Duke. If anyone knew the real reason why, they would think that him weak and pathetic but as the whole world knew – or at least those concerned, Troy Bolton transferred because he was offered a more promising scholarship so he could play for Albuquerque's basketball team.
Shortly after coming back home, he started interning for Gerard's company. What was only suppose to be a summer internship soon turned into a six month stretch and before he knew it, he was offered a position in the company the minute he graduated college. In the last few years, he's managed to successfully climb the corporate ladder in an alarmingly fast speed. And some could even say that he is really living the good life. He bought a house – actually, he bought Gabriella's old house. He didn't really plan on buying it, hell, he didn't even know that it was up for sale but as he passed by the neighborhood and he saw the For Sale sign, he just impulsively told his realtor to check out the house and less than a week later, he became a proud home owner. His family and friends – especially Chad, were concerned when they found out that he bought Gabriella's old house of all the houses in their area. They thought he was crazy and still clinging on to the hope that his ex girlfriend might come back but to him, in a weird and unexplainable way, it just felt right. It was the house where he spent all his afternoons – and nights in for the last two years of high school. And it seemed like a peculiar choice, a traditional four bedroom house for a bachelor pad but Troy didn't care. He felt at home and that's all that mattered.
It is a week before school is officially over, before Troy and Gabriella finally graduate from high school and enter the real world. No more senior projects. No more class assignments. No more waking up at six am in the morning just to get to basketball practice, or for Gabriella, no more staying up till one am in the morning because a certain best friend of hers decided that winning the Decathlon is more important than sleep.
It is in these rare occurrences when both Troy and Gabriella have no obligations and no responsibilities where one can usually find them, laying in each others arms on Gabriella's roof top, gazing at Albuquerque clear sky. Throughout the almost two years that they've been together, Troy and Gabriella spend nearly every waking moment with each other. If Troy isn't at basketball or golf or whatever sport he's involved with, he's with Gabriella in the library, stealing kisses here and there. If Gabriella isn't with Taylor engaged in some laboratory experiment or in a Decathlon meeting, she would be at the gym, watching adoringly while Troy practices. Their parents have gotten used to seeing their children attached to hip and they discovered fast enough that if they wanted to spend some quality time with Troy and Gabriella, they have would have to consent to certain allowances. Friday night dinners involving the two families came about. Sleepovers were allowed as long as the door is left open. Sunday is devoted to combined family get-togethers between the Bolton's and the Montez'. Jack and Linda Bolton consider Gabriella as part of their family and the same can be said for Troy. Hell, even Linda and Gabriella's mom, Maria are already planning their children's wedding, much to Jack's, Troy's and Gabriella's chagrin.
And with college dawning upon them, if people thought that East High's most beloved couple are attached to the hip before, the last few weeks of high school is proving them wrong. Because they are literally spending every minute with each other, trying to get the most of their time left together before Troy leaves for Duke while Gabriella heads off to Yale.
"So, Miss Valedictorian, how does it feel that high school is coming to an end at last? Exciting huh?"
His question is met with silence.
Turning to his side so he can get a better look at his girlfriend, Troy inwardly berates himself when he sees the beginnings of tears on Gabriella's face.
"Oh, Gabi." Hugging her more tightly, Troy whisper sweet nothings in her ear but this only results in Gabriella crying harder.
Completely oblivious as to what to do, Troy just hugs Gabriella and wipes away her tears.
"Babe, what's wrong?"
Hiccup. "We only have one week left." Hiccup.
"You've been so strong lately. You didn't even cry when we got our yearbooks or when we had our Senor picnic. What happened to the smiling and exuberant Gabriella?"
"She's gone and now you have me, a crying and emotional Gabriella, so deal with it okay?" She bites back.
Troy smiles. A sarcastic Gabriella – even one that's crying is a good sign.
"And you're smiling because? You're girlfriend is freaking out here because in less than three months, you'll be leaving and then I'll leave and -"
Troy laughs out loud and looks down on his girlfriend of a year and a half before kissing her senseless to shut her up.
"We are going to be fine. This," pointing at the two of them, "isn't going to end. I love you too much to let you go, not now, not ever."
She shyly smiles and this time, she's the one who fervently kisses Troy.
Several minutes later, after their heated make out session on the rooftop ends, Gabriella lovingly looks into Troy's eyes and whispers, "I love you Troy Bolton. Don't you ever forget that. Four years from now, we'll be back and we'll gaze up at that clear night sky and everything will be fine."
"Damn right it will be."
"So, I already called the airline company and changed your flight -"
Incensed, Troy responds, "Gerard, I'm going back to Albuquerque for this ridiculous week long vacation you gave me."
"For the love of God, live a little. Hook up with random girls here in New York, spend the week in a drunken stupor and then come home."
Sighing, "First, you think I'm fascinated in the frivolous lives of celebrities and now, you're insinuating that I'm the type of guy who engages in one night stands. I'm interested in what you really think of me."
Gerard opens his mouth to retort but Troy interrupts him, "And second of all, you are not living vicariously through me. You decided to get yourself tied down and just because you're missing those drunken bachelor days of yours -"
"Hey, hey, hey. I'll have you know that I'm very happy with Tricia. I'd give up all the girls in the pond just for her."
Troy just laughs out loud in response, attracting some of the casual bystanders near the playground.
They pass by a group of giggling teenage girls and as Gerard notes, "I still have the charm" to which Troy responds by rolling his eyes.
Casually observing his surroundings, Troy feels like an outsider amongst the mildly populated area of New Yorkers. He sees a curly haired musician that sits atop a rock, playing his guitar, a brunette woman sitting on a bench reading a book, a teenage boy trying out his hand at skateboarding, several mothers standing by, looking over their children in the playground, a kid holding a stick and trying to get the attention of a Labrador puppy, a few joggers here and –
Troy does a double take and unknowingly starts walking in the direction of the kid with the Labrador.
"Hey, where are you going this time? The exit is this way…"
Troy just waves his hands in dismissal followed by a "What the -" from a confused Gerard.
The little boy starts walking in Troy's direction, his attention still directed towards the pup and Troy could faintly hear the boy saying, "Come on, Bubba. We have to get back to Mama."
Tugging at the dog's leash, the boy starts mildly running until he reaches the woman on the bench reading.
Troy stops walking.
"Mama, Bubba wants ice cream."
Lifting her eyes off the book, the woman in question remarks, "Bubba wants ice cream huh?"
For the second time that day, Troy does a double take and it feels like his heart has stopped beating.
Beside him, Gerard notes, "Isn't that…"
Cutting him off, Troy responds, "Yeah, yeah it is."
Sitting a few feet away from him is Gabrielle Montez and in a second, everything seems to fall into place.
"Please, Mama. Some ice cream for Bubba?"
Troy unconsciously takes a step backward.
"By Bubba you mean, 'let's get some ice cream from Tyler' right?"
The boy - named Tyler smiles sheepishly.
A wave of different emotions – anger, confusion, and anguish sweeps over Troy all at once. And in that moment, the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. The same blue eyes. The same dark curls. The same nose. The same lips. The same freaking bone structure. Had the boy had sandy blonde hair, he would be the spitting image of himself in his pre-school days.
Troy Bolton has a son.
And he did what any man would do faced with a situation like this, he bolts, leaving behind a perplexed Gerard and an oblivious mother and son duo in his wake.
In another side of New York, the Evan siblings are engaged in a somewhat similar internal turmoil that their friend Troy Bolton is experiencing.
Ryan Evans is in the kitchen, cooking their dinner while his sister sits atop oneof the kitchen stools, arms crossed, eyebrows raised – looking like the diva that everyone knew she is.
For the last half hour or so, they have been trying to hold a civil conversation but failing in vain when one, or sometimes both of them would inevitably snap at each other. After so many failed attempts, they decided to momentarily hold a truce and appease their hungry stomachs.
Seeing Sharpay's sour expression and deciding that it is better to lay everything on the table, Ryan goads his sister by asking, "So, how much of a bitch were you to Gabriella?"
"I dunno know. How much of a liar were you to your friends?" was the reply Ryan got.
"Touché."
An awkward silence envelope the room while each Evan sibling tries to hold their temper in check, ultimately settling for glaring at each other instead of letting hell erupt in Ryan's apartment.
A doorbell rings in the distance.
Both Ryan and Sharpay ignore the doorbell, opting for continuing their glaring contest instead.
The doorbell rings again.
Without breaking eye contact, Ryan motions for Sharpay to answer the door.
She just crosses her arms petulantly in response.
The doorbell rings a third time.
"I'm cooking here," Ryan says with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
She raises an eyebrow, as if saying "So what?"
The doorbell rings a fourth, fifth and sixth time demonstrating the person's urgency.
Sharpay gets up from her seat and huffs, "Fine." She crosses the living room and opens the door, more than ready to yell at the person on the outside.
Her scowl soon turns into a bright smile when she sees Troy Bolton. She steps forward to give Troy a hug but his irate expression stops her.
The first words that come out of his lips are "Where is that son of a bitch?"
Seeing as Sharpay has never seen Troy mad before, she cautiously takes a step back.
"What?"
His angry façade is soon directed to Sharpay. Ignoring her question, he asks again, "Where is that son of a bitch?"
It takes a moment before Sharpay realizes why Troy is pissed as hell.
"Gabriella already told you?" she remarks in surprise.
If it is even possible, Troy's face is now fuming in rage.
"You knew too?" he shouts.
Bringing up her hands in defense, she tries to explain, "I only found out yesterday, Troy."
His glare lessens but this doesn't last when Ryan, upon hearing all the commotion, enters the room.
"Oh, hey Troy."
Sharpay sees Troy tighten his fist before he starts marching towards Ryan. Before anyone could anticipate it, Troy Bolton says, "You son of a bitch" followed by a punch straight to Ryan's jaw.
"Shit."
"Troy."
Rushing to Ryan's side and taking a look at his jaw, Sharpay sends Troy a chastising look and states, "You didn't have to punch him." She leaves the room, returning a second later with a bag of frozen peas that she none-too-gently shoves in Ryan's swollen cheek.
Ryan cringes in pain and takes the bag from his sister. This time, he carefully places it over his jaw and mutters, "Its okay Sharpay. I deserved it."
"Like hell you did," Troy angrily retorts, "I thought you were my friend."
"I am," looking at Troy, he continues, "That's why I did what I did."
Troy sarcastically laughs. "Oh, so you repeatedly lied to me for the last few years and you have the gall to call yourself my friend."
"Troy…"
"For the last six years, you knew where Gabriella was. You knew I had a son. You knew and you didn't tell me."
"I had no choice, Troy."
He scoffs. "Bullshit. You always have a choice, you could have told me. What, you didn't think I had a right to know that I have a son? You thought that I didn't deserve to know?"
"You don't understand…"
Troy clenches and unclenches his fist, as if he's trying to control himself. "What I understand is that for the last six years, you looked me in the face and didn't tell me the truth. You were there when I drunk my ass off because Gabriella left and yet you didn't say anything. You didn't -"
Ryan interrupts Troy's tirade and all but shouts, "She threatened to run away again if I told anyone."
Silence fills the room.
Still clutching his bruised jaw, Ryan leans helplessly at the couch and tells his side of the story.
"It was after winter break. I had an audition in downtown Manhattan and on my way back, I passed by this old bookstore. I needed a book and I went in and there she was, ringing up a customer looking like the same Gabriella we all knew. The moment she saw me she bolted out of there, right in the middle of her transaction."
He sighs and goes on to continue, "She didn't come out of the employees section so I left. I came back almost every day and by the end of the week, I thought I just imagined seeing her. Two weeks after I passed by the bookstore again and I saw a similarly looking girl manning the cashier so just when I finally deduced that I did imagine Gabriella, I see her stacking some books in the shelves with her protruding belly."
"By the time Gabriella stopped running away from the sight of me, the first words out of her mouth was 'Tell a soul and I'll be out of New York before you even knew it'. She made me promise, Troy. She made me promise."
Sending a pleading look towards Troy, "Don't you see? I had to choose the lesser of two evils. I couldn't risk having her run away again given her condition. I hated lying to you. I hated lying to everyone but I had no choice."
For the second time that day, silence surrounds the Evan's apartment. No one moves. No one speaks. Ryan just sits there, holding the bag of peas. Sharpay stands uncomfortably between the two men. And Troy, well Troy just stands there, emotionless and stoic.
Troy breaks the silence and silently reveals, "It's going to take some time before we're okay again."
"Oh." Ryan responds forlornly.
Not looking anyone in the eye, Troy says, "I'm...I'm gonna go." And without another glance towards the other occupants of the room, Troy heads towards the door only to come face to face with the last two people he wanted to see at the moment; Gabriella Montez and his son.
Longest chapter I have ever written. So review, review, review. You know you want to. You never know, it just might make me update faster...lol.