Disclaimer: Only Damien!
Author's Note: Um…so sorry I haven't been updating recently but I did have my a levels to do. I'd like to promise frequent updates now that they're over but every time I make such promises I end up breaking them.
Thanks once again to everyone who reviewed. They are all very much appreciated!
Damien's question pulled Gabriella back into the real world. She dragged her eyes from Troy and looked at her confused fiancé.
"Yeah, he's…" Gabriella paused and looked back towards Troy. He was still watching her intently. "An old friend. We … we went to school together," she mumbled. Gabriella saw Troy's eyebrows shoot up into his fringe. She ignored his confused look; she hadn't been ready to tell Damien before and she sure as hell wasn't ready to tell him now.
Damien's expression broke into one of understanding, "Of course! You two both went to East High right?"
"Yeah," she said with a weak smile. "But I haven't seen him in years…I didn't even know he was gonna be in town," she said with a meaningful glance in Troy's direction. This was the part where he would explain himself.
Yeah, just visiting the parents, but I, er, heard you were getting married."
"Yeah…I-I am," Gabriella stuttered. Unsurprisingly, she found it difficult to admit to the man who was technically her husband.
Troy turned his attention to her fiancé. "You must be Damien," he said as he held out his hand. Damien returned the shake enthusiastically.
"It's so great to meet you!" he gushed, still pumping Troy's hand.
Gabriella felt uncomfortable watching Damien being so nice; she could see the traces of a smirk on Troy's lips as Damien poured on the compliments. "Honey you'll be late for work," she intervened. A crestfallen look crossed Damien's face and he looked torn between the career opportunity of a lifetime and socialising with a legend-in-the-making.
"On a Saturday?" Troy questioned. "Wow…that's too bad. But maybe I'll see you around some time, heard you like to play a little ball."
"I dabble," he said with a preppy grin.
Gabriella kept her eyes to the floor as Damien mumbled his excuses and left for work. She didn't look up as Damien pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and offered her goodbye smile to the laminate floor.
"Dabble?" Troy asked, not bothering to hold back a smirk. Gabriella looked up from the floor and gave him a withered look.
"What are you doing here Troy?" She asked, already sounding completely exasperated with him already.
"I just came by to see you…because…well, it's been a while."
"You can say that again," she mumbled. Troy decided it would be best if he didn't repeat himself.
"So, can I come in?" he asked hesitantly. Gabriella nodded.
She led Troy into the living room and gestured to a cream leather sofa. He sat down cautiously, his eyes roaming around the room as he took in every little detail. He was a lot bigger than he was the last time she had seen him in person. Troy had always been muscular, but the athletic teenager shuffling down her front path had morphed into something slightly brawny. He was by no means a body builder, but his arms were bigger and his shoulders considerably wider. Gabriella proudly noted that she had no overwhelming desire to see what he would like with his shirt off. Her eyes drifted away from his torso and to his face. He still had that incredibly boyish look; Gabriella could still picture that immature snigger and self-assured grin. He was still sporting the same hairstyle, albeit a missing inch or two. Gabriella was about to make an icebreaking jibe when she realised her long wavy tresses had hardly transformed over the past seven years either.
It was only as she looked into his eyes that Gabriella noticed Troy had stopped checking out the room and had turned his attention to her. She watched as his eyes strayed from her face to her legs and back again. She cringed as she remembered her attire.
"I'll just go change," she mumbled. She barely registered Troy's disappointed expression before she skittered out the room.
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Gabriella stared at her reflection in the mirror. Low cut top. Tight jeans. Lots of make up and carefully tousled hair. He was going to think she was trying to seduce him. Without a moment's hesitation Gabriella tore off her blouse and jeans.
Her eyes flew to the clock on her bedside table - she'd been upstairs for the past twenty minutes. The longer she took, the more he'd know how hard she was trying to make an impression.
This was not how it was supposed to go. Troy was supposed to walk into the room and find Gabriella at her finest. Dressed to kill with the sexiest man in the room on her arm and surrounded by her closest friends. She had hoped that if they were ever to be reunited, it would be when Gabriella was at her best. She had meant to show him what he was missing. Instead he had found her with no make up, her hair barely brushed and wearing her fiancé's shirt.
He wasn't supposed to be here. She'd sent a letter and the papers via post so she wouldn't have to deal with any personal contact. He was supposed to sign the papers, thank god she wasn't going to demand a couple of million and send them straight back.
How was she supposed to find the ideal reunion outfit if he just turned up unannounced?
Gabriella's panic abruptly shifted into anger. How dare he turn up like this? Had he not gathered that she had no immediate desire to see him? She had done everything by post so she wouldn't have to deal with an awkward confrontation. The invitation to the party had just been an offhand thing, done out of politeness more than a wish for some sort of reunion.
He was supposed to politely decline the invitation - via post - and send her the signed divorce papers, grateful she wasn't trying to wring any undeserved money out of him.
If, for reasons unknown (maybe his utter stupidity), he took the invitation literally and turned up she would be completely prepared. Conversation topics guaranteed to make her seem as if she was doing much better with out him? Preened to perfection. Dashing, intelligent and amazing fiancé? Completely clued in on her marital status and ready to upstage Troy in absolutely everything. Drop-dead gorgeous appearance? A dress to show off her best assets and make Troy literally kick himself.
She had envisioned the whole thing in her mind, but had yet to set any of those things in motion. Now here was Troy, seven days too early and already bringing out the worst in Damien.
With a set jaw Gabriella reached for the first outfit she had tried on - a floral print tea dress - and charged down the stairs.
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"What are you doing here?" Gabriella said as she burst into the room. Troy looked a little taken back by her dramatic entrance, slamming shut the cabinet drawer he knew he shouldn't have been opening in the first place.
"Didn't we, uh, already have this conversation?" Troy asked as he tried to discreetly put some space between himself and the cabinet.
"You came here to ruin things for me, didn't you?" she said accusingly.
"Why would I want to do that?"
"You haven't been to Albuquerque in years. I tell you I'm getting married and a few days later you show up. It doesn't feel like much of a coincidence."
"What? A guy can't go home without looking like he's trying to wreck his ex's new relationship?" Troy said with a nervous laugh. Gabriella watched him warily.
"So me getting married has nothing to do with you being in Albuquerque?"
"Um...well it's not the whole reason..."
"Oh my god," Gabriella moaned, her voice slightly muffled by her hands covering her face.
"I just wanna…check this guy out. Make sure you're making the right decision," Troy explained smoothly. He knew his charming tone had not worked when Gabriella looked up at him with a murderous look in her eyes. He offered her his winning smile.
"Are you serious?" Gabriella asked, completely outraged. Troy leaned back as she closed the gap between them. "A-a-are you for real?"
She was so angry she could hardly formulate any words. Troy watched nervously as she stuttered and glared, hands flying about wildly as she tried to convey her anger.
"I'm not here to cause trouble," Troy said soothingly, reaching out to stroke her arm. Gabriella batted his hand away and launched into another outburst.
"Who the hell do you think you are? After all these years you think I need your approval. You-"
Troy cut her off, "I just don't want you to make any stupid mistakes."
"I've already made that kind of mistake. I'm not gonna do it again."
"I don't know about that…"
"Oh please you don't know anything," Gabriella said scornfully, "You don't know Damien and you certainly don't know me!"
"Yeah you're right. I don't know anything about Damien, but I do know you. We were married, remember?"
"Yeah, for like nine months," she said dismissively.
"I know you," Troy stressed, "and I know that you could never be happy with a guy who works on a Saturday-"
"Oh please, " Gabriella scoffed, "It's not a regular thing."
"But it bothers you."
Troy smiled smugly as Gabriella looked away. He was right; it did bother her. Damien was a workaholic and though she much preferred it to Troy's lazy outlook on life, she hated that their time together was restricted to less than 72 hours a week.
"You're all about quality time and he's obviously all about work. Either that or you guys aren't even married and he's already trying to get some alone time."
What was he insinuating? Gabriella was suddenly too drained to even ask. All she knew was that over the past week she had been having some doubts and Troy had instantly tapped into them. He could see the problems too - the cracks in her perfect relationship. If Troy could see them then that meant they weren't a figment of her imagination like Taylor had said. They were very real and if Troy was right, another train wreck was imminent.
"Get out," Gabriella mumbled, collapsing into the nearby sofa. "Please, just get out."
Troy hovered anxiously in the doorway. That wasn't the reaction he was expecting.
"Okay," he mumbled dumbly and showed himself out.
As he closed the door behind him Troy looked up at the house. They lived in a real, honest-to-god house with a luscious front lawn and a white picket fence. It wasn't a cramped, destitute apartment on the edge of a university campus. It wasn't a home where the occupants lived off hopeless optimism, pretending that it was perfectly normal for the hot water not to work. This was a house with hot water, electricity, and central heating - the whole works. It was perfect.
Or at least as perfect as he had thought Gabriella's relationship would be. Troy had been running around blindly in there, grasping at the loose ends of his sparse knowledge of Damien to try and build up a case against him. He had never expected to be so successful.
Troy smiled to himself: he loved being right.
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"You made her cry, do you know that?"
"How did you know?"
"Aren't you concerned? How are you supposed to win her back if you make her cry?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"And you didn't answer mine."
Sometimes Troy really hated Sharpay.
"Fine yes, I feel bad for making her cry," Troy said flatly into the phone. He heard Sharpay tut.
"There are more effective ways of undermining her relationship than making her cry. Did we not discuss the whole 'be nice' thing before we left?"
"I was being nice," Troy protested. "I just…didn't know what else to say."
"You went in on the offensive," Sharpay said knowingly, "you should have kept it light. Asked how she had been - wait, did you even ask or did you just launch right into it?"
"Um…"
"Oh. My. God. That was phase three fool! You are absolutely hopeless. How many times did we role-play your meeting? What is the matter with you?"
Troy winced and held the phone away from his ear as Sharpay launched into a tirade on the many things wrong with his approach.
"Yeah okay I did bad," he interrupted, "what now?"
"Well you're just going to have to try and start over again. Apologise for being mean and be super nice till she forgives you."
"Okay…but how do you know she cried?"
"Chad told me."
"What do you mean Chad told you."
"I mean Chad told me."
"How did Chad know?"
"Taylor told him."
"And how did Taylor know?"
"She spoke to Gabriella, duh!"
"Sharpay…you and Chad…you didn't tell Taylor about what I'm doing, did you?"
"Well I didn't. Listen I have another call. Don't screw up again Troy."
