You're in that limbo between the realms of sleeping and waking. It's a sensation not unfamiliar to you; you find yourself in this position whenever you have too much to think about. It's during these strange moments when you can't quite tell if you really have been awake the whole night, or if all of this is just a dream. You turn over onto your other side, desperate for the feeling of relaxation, but it doesn't come as quickly as you want it to. Just as you find the muscles in your body loosening, and the thoughts swirling around your head slow, the beloved iHome alarm clock goes off. It really must be something in the Albuquerque water lately that's causing so many teenage residents to be losing so much sleep.
I never wanna be part of the herd
I guess I was, in case you haven't heard
You bolt up in your bed, trying to kick the covers off of yourself but failing and they instead tangle around your legs. As you land with an awkward -bump- on the floor, you scramble to turn off the loud device, hoping you can squeeze in just a few minutes of sleep before another day begins. 7:30 flashes at you, mocking you and the dark circles under your eyes. You know, unfortunately, you don't have enough time to power nap. Picking yourself up from the heap of bed dressings on the floor, you resign to begin your every morning routine. So exciting.
Maybe you can tell that I can't stand
The way I want to be the included
Your music still plays as you half-heartedly go through the all too monotonous motions of getting dressed. The song, it seems, is the only thing keeping you from collapsing onto your wooden floor in exhaustion. You imagine that would leave an awfully unpretty bruise.
I always want to be a mystery
I always knew that two and two made three
In lieu of your recent epiphanies, you've questioned who exactly it is you've been dressing up for every damn day of your life. Sure, you like to look good, favoring the clean-cut preppy style over others your peers prefer, but you've found it's not entirely necessary to spend so much time picking out the "perfect" outfit. You know perfect doesn't exist, not by a long shot.
So you throw on your favorite pair of jeans, a cropped tweed blazer, and your most comfortable pair of flats. Not having enough time to glamorously style your hair, it falls down your back in its natural state of loose waves. Today, you find, is a sweatpants and hoodie kind of day. But, your schoolmates would probably drop dead from the shock of seeing you so casual. Everyone else around East High has "changed," or so they claim, but if the Ice Princess did, then you imagine people would be looking for pigs flying outside of the dusty classroom windows.
As you add the minor finishing touches to your appearance, you flick off the lights and grab your iPod out of its dock. Leaving it behind, today of all days, is definitely not an option. Before its disconnected, you enjoy the last few lines (for now) of your latest favorite song.
I wish away the time I'm living in
I never wanna see the smile again
Then it's paused in its place so you can pick up from there later. Judging by the way you think the day will go, you'll be hearing the rest of the song pretty soon. But you're reaching your last few minutes of serenity, so you banish the unpleasant thoughts from your head.
The kitchen is eerily quiet as you enter it this morning. Usually Ryan's already down here, eating his daily bowl of cereal, or your mother takes a seat at the island with a large home design magazine to look through. Sometimes, when he's home that is, your father's even down here early, talking loudly on his cell phone. Essentially, the kitchen is never empty or devoid of so much sound.
As you reach in the Pop-Tart box, going for your favorite Hot Fudge Sundae variety, a smile graces your face at the thought that you're almost home free. You've thought too soon though, because just as the pantry door closes your mother appears. She's already exquisitely dressed for such an early hour in the morning, and her stylish reading glasses adorn her face as she carries a thick novel in her arm. It's times like these when she looks almost human. Almost.
"Is that what you plan on wearing?" she asks, sliding the glasses away from her eyes momentarily so she can see you entirely.
"As a matter of fact, it is."
"Well darling, I would strongly advise against it."
"Why? I think I look pretty hot."
"Hot? Then I suppose that just explains it all."
You angrily take a bite out of your surely nutritious breakfast; you thought you'd have her speechless with your last comment. And then you wonder - if you can change some of the other things going on in your life, why can't you change this?
"What's your problem, mother? Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"I am quite sorry if it offends you that I do not want my daughter walking around looking like trash."
"Trash? What the hell, mom? I'm wearing Dior. How can that ever be classified as trash?"
"Torn jeans, Sharpay? I am not quite sure which answer I would rather hear: that you actually bought your blue jeans ripped, or you are still wearing them even though they are ripped."
"Hmm," you mock think. "It's a little bit of both, I'd say."
"Either way, you look entirely inappropriate for a woman in this family."
"Whatever."
"Whatever, is that all you ever say? I swear, I am going to need to do something about the way you carry on. You would think that with all of these acting lessons I have paid for that you could at least pretend to have class."
It's about now that something inside of you cracks. You never thought you'd ever see the day where you'd let something she said to get to you so bad that you'd actually go off on her. It must be the stress.
"What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you? You criticize me every damn day, I'm your goddamned daughter! Okay? Your goddamned daughter who doesn't deserve any of this shit that you throw at her! I've never done anything to you.
"You used to be my fucking role model. I looked up to you. You were so nice and giving that I thought 'man, one day I'm gonna be like her and she'll be so proud of me.' I guess I was wrong, huh? You never gave a damn about me, only about dressing me up and flaunting me as your Barbie doll of a daughter. I'm not a Barbie and I'm not plastic, unlike you. The things you say really fucking hurt me, okay?"
"If that's the way you feel, sweetheart, the door is always open. You can leave anytime."
With a slam of the door you're out of the house. How sad is it, when school turns into your safe haven? You get in the car you and Ryan share, he usually ends up driving though because he always seems to be ready first. Even though you've had some sort of semi-feud going on the past days, at least there was the comfort in knowing he was still in the seat next to you, in case you ever really needed him.
You hate that today just so happens to be the day your father picked for some stupid father-son bonding camping thing. Two whole days of fishing, peeing outdoors, and being eaten alive by bugs - you just can't understand the allure of the concept. It's too bad your father and brother do though, this little trip happens every time he returns, and once again you're left with the true Ice Queen herself.
You get to school quickly, for the most part you've missed the A.M. traffic near all of the Elementary, Middle, and High Schools. Now that you've arrived, the pessimistic voice in the back of your head returns full force. The nagging voice reminds you that today you truly are alone; today you'll have to face Troy Bolton after you screamed at him and gave a noble attempt at pulling the Scenestealer from her pedestal. It seems there's no way to tarnish the halo she wears, that was made all too obvious yesterday.
If, you know, you had cared -at all- you might find it the least bit funny Troy had slipped up and used a line from "The O.C." when he was fighting with Chad. But, of course, you don't care. Not one little, teensytiny, bit. Seriously. Now, all you've got to do is convince yourself.
As you sit through your morning classes, you have absolutely no idea what's happening in any of them. You daydream often, especially during lectures, but at least you have some (though normally vague) idea of what's going on. This morning, all you hear are random words here and there which won't make sense if you ever try to sting them together to form a tangible sentence. All you hear are your thoughts that revolve around people who have done nothing but cause trouble for you and your brother.
It doesn't even seem worth it, having them around you. Back before Christmas Break it was just the Evans twins against the world, anyone trying to get in your way be damned. You didn't need anybody, and you still don't. Having "friends," or at least these ones, is too much trouble. Ever since you've begun to allow them access to your life, you've found yourself regretting it. You should've backed down and gave them the full brunt of your icy exterior. Now everything's just gone too far.
The bell rings, disturbing you from another long-winded speech in your head. You try to remember which class you're in so you can figure out where to go next, but the haze surrounding you is too thick. After sitting in your desk a couple minutes longer, you discern that free period has come at last.
Even though it could very possibly be a bad idea, you head towards the auditorium in hopes that it'll be empty. Tryouts for the Spring Musicale are coming up next week and your song still needs more work. Predictably, it's not empty at all. Instead, it's filled with your favorite people in the entire world.
The "Golden Group" has themselves spread around the large room. Kelsi's up on stage sitting at the piano while Zeke watches in interest, Chad and Jason are painting a large backdrop with Taylor most likely commanding them, and in the front row you see the sight that sickens you the most. In the far corner seats are the Basketball Boy and the Scenestealer sitting awfully close. You shouldn't be surprised they've made up already. On some level, you suppose, you knew it would happen. You had just hoped they both had more sense than that.
Another confrontation is the last thing you need right now; all you wanted was to work on your audition piece. Before you can make an exit, the door you entered from finally closes. Loudly. You cringe at the sound, and suddenly you've got six sets of eyes on you. Just freaking fantastic.
Nobody makes a move, until Chad does something he'll surely regret: he shivers. Everyone's eyes dart between you, him, and the couple up front. You find it ironic that this is the boy who refers to you as "the Mountain Lion," when it feels like you yourself are entering the Lion's den.
Jason elbows his teammate roughly in the ribs, but he does nothing but sputter a stupid "what?" The six pairs of eyes still focus on you, expecting a dramatic display. Why disappoint them? you think snidely. Because at this moment, you decide to damn it all to hell. It seems you're on a roll with letting out your emotions today, why stop now? Months worth of thoughts and feelings come piling through your head, feelings you've suppressed for way too long.
"Why don't you all just take a picture?" you ask, voice projecting so loudly you're certain they've all heard you.
"Hey Shar," Kelsi mumbles.
"Don't 'hey Shar' me," you walk swiftly down the aisle to come upon stage right. "Who do you all think you are? Can I ask? Seriously, look at yourselves! You're all full of shit."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Chad asks.
"Well dumbass, it's supposed to mean exactly what it sounds like. You all want so badly to break free, huh? Well look around, none of you have! You all go around pretending you're so perfect! It's sickening!"
"Well what about you, Ice Princess? Don't act like you're all perfect!"
"Trust me, I'm not. At least I have the sense to know that I'm not fucking perfect. You're only lying to yourselves in the long run. You're playing right into everybody's hands. Look at you, you're not the least bit individual. You're all the fucking same, trying to blend in and hide yourselves among the crowd. Hmm, have I mentioned you make me sick?"
"Sharpay, what is this all about? Why are you fighting us?" Taylor asks thoroughly angered. You laugh inwardly as her nostrils flare unattractively.
"Why? Because I'm sick and tired of you all! I'm sick of walking down the hallway and having people fucking shivering like they're so clever, because they're really not." You notice with satisfaction that Chad looks down at his shoes embarrassedly.
"I'm sick of everyone in this school comparing me to all of you just because we're all supposedly friends. Well let me tell you something, friends don't talk about friends behind their backs! Friends don't laugh at you when you get a problem wrong in Chem. or joke about you buying mirrors in your spare time. You're all pathetic if you think any of you actually acted like a friend towards me."
And then you're down the stairs to see your favorite couple. Gagchokecoughsneeze. Sneeze? Either way, you turn your furious tirade on them.
"And you, God, you two are the worst. What did I say, now that the confrontations are over you and your perfect girlfriend can get back to your perfect relationship. How perfect. I knew that the minute you were done showing off to Ryan that you'd go back to her. But wow, how could I have been so stupid to actually think that maybe, just maybe, something I said got through your thick skull!
"I hope you two are happy together. Really. Because you both deserve each other. It's good to know she's been forgiven so easily but me and Ryan are going to be the outcasts for the rest of our lives. It's really, just so good to know how you really feel about us."
"Sharpay," Troy tries. He's ignored. He got the chance to prove himself yesterday. All he proved was he's a hypocritical coward.
"While the two of you were happily giving each other Eskimo kisses and watching the sun rise, celebrating merrily the fact that you beat me and my brother for the play, did you ever once think about us? Did you ever once think 'gosh, Sharpay and Ryan really seem to like doing those plays. Maybe it's the only thing they've actually got going for them. Maybe it's been their dream since they were two years old! Maybe we came along and stole it all from them!' Did you ever once wonder?
"No, of course not. You were too busy thinking that me and Ryan were the villains. Oh yes, you've got us pegged. We really are selfish bastards who have nothing better to do with our lives so we go out of our way to tear people down and secure the lead role in every play. Wow, you guys are good. Congrats guys, you win the Ignorant Award of the Year. You should be so freakin' proud. Go display it in your rooms next to your Scholastic Decathlon and Basketball trophies.
"Good for you, winning something else. Because, you know, you didn't have enough already. You didn't already have the school hopelessly in love with you. Thanks a lot, guys, perhaps you should win a Humanitarian Award for your efforts, too."
"Sharpay," Gabriella tries this time. You still won't hear it.
"Don't speak, Gabriella. Since you came here you've done nothing but make me feel worse about myself. I'm not an Ice Princess, I'm not a Mountain Lion, and I'm not a robot. I'm just Sharpay Evans. Like it or not this is all I'm ever gonna be. I honestly don't care what any of you have to say about me anymore. I'm done hearing the same lifeless crap over and over again. I'm done with always trying to compare. I'm just, done.
"I tried to be a better person, tried to prove myself to you. There was a part of me that still wanted to fit in with you guys, no matter how much it didn't seem that way. I kick myself now, over and over, for ever even considering it. Because what it all comes down to in the end is whatever I do is never going to be good enough. I've accepted that, and the fact that none of you will ever open your eyes and see people for who they really are, flaws and all."
You storm back up through the aisles, flats making a soft padding sound on the linoleum, and you walk out the door. You never turn to see their faces. You don't care about their reactions. Won't Ryan be pleased, you think sarcastically. Yes, surely he'll be ecstatic when he comes home to find you've severed all ties with your only friends.
Just then, you feel your Sidekick vibrate in your purse. As you flip it open you read the text message you've just received from him: Keep your head up high, soldier. You give a small smile, thanking God for the twin telepathy you never thought existed until now.
a/n: It's what we've all been waiting for - she finally broke ! Cue more drama ..
Just so all you guys know, I've gone back and edited some things in this so that they flow with the HSM timeline better. Originally I ignored it because I wanted it to match up with now, but it's going to cause too much of a problem very soon so instead of Thanksgiving, the Evans and Boltons celebrated Easter. Also, this was originally supposed to start out right after Scenestealer and the night of the play. Since I've never mentioned it directly, it's a bit easier to change. This story officially begins about two months after. I figure Twinkle Towne would have actually opened sometime in February, making this start right at the end of March/beginning of April. Other than that there's not really any change that will affect this too much.
I can't believe this is already chapter 8! Which means (if I stick to my original plans) there's only two more chapters left. Please review guys, I love hearing from new people & the ones who take the time to review every chapter. It really means a lot to me both ways : )
Okay so now, Lali: You're actually my first non-user reviewer so I didn't know what to do to reply. Hope this works for you, I just didn't want an email to get sent to spam or anything. When I see Sharpay in the movie I don't necessarily think 'oh she must have so many family problems at home,' just that she's not going to be incredibly excited at the thought of losing everything she's apparently worked so hard for. I think towards the end of the movie Disney really screwed up her character. It's also good to find someone else who didn't like Gabriella in the movie because I didn't- at all. And I, unlike Disney, think she's bound to screw up sometimes, whether she likes it or not.
Thanks for reviewing, I'm so glad you like the story.
song credit: Take a Drink - Quietdrive
