HSM is not mine.
I'm not sure if this is random. It's a little I guess. I just wanted to show you a flash of Troy's thoughts and wanted to show you how they began together.
Ok. So here's some Troy for you all.
Next chappie will be about them being friends. Ever had a friend you just felt awkward around? Because you knew they liked you or you liked them?
) I'm thinking I'll do something like that. We'll see. Or suggestions are nice! Yeah?
REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW please!
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It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
Troy only had one word for that.
Hypocritical.
And maybe idiotic as well.
Because honestly, anyone who had ever loved and lost could tell you that that quotation was, for lack of better words, a load of crap. Whoever said those famous words had probably never fallen in love before.
Or been drunk when he or she said it.
Troy Bolton knew better.
He had loved. He had loved, and lost love. And he could tell you…it was better to have never loved at all.
He gently slid the pad of his thumb over the picture, worn and fading due to years of handling. The smooth glossy texture shined in the light as he lifted it up. This was Troy's favourite.
This one picture—containing two happy people with wind swept hair, pink noses and cheeks, smiling so contentedly that their eyes twinkled—was the only one of her that he had kept. It had been his companion over the years, his reprieve to know that there had been happy times. But in every way, it was a sign of his guilt. It was a punishment. It was the love that he had lost—in his grasp at one point.
He remembered it like it was yesterday. And sometimes, he wished it was. Then he would never make the mistake of losing her again.
The dance was tonight—their very first dance as a couple. Troy was standing at the foot of her stairs, waiting nervously for his date to come down. He didn't know why he was feeling that way. It was, by no mean, their first date for they had been together for a month already. And besides, Troy Bolton never got nervous.
He put that aside as anticipation for the looks on his friends' faces. He couldn't wait to see Sharpay's face in particular—it never failed to make him laugh.
Troy didn't really know what to expect from his date tonight. He guessed she would primp a little and wear a modest, conservative dress. He wasn't expecting that much from her. He knew that the whole school was edging to see the not-so-spectacular nerd who became Troy Bolton's girlfriend.
Troy concealed a smirk, checking the time on his watch.
It wasn't that she wasn't pretty, because Troy had long ago acknowledged that she did indeed possess beauty. And she always dressed well at school—nothing bold but nothing hideous. She wasn't the stereotypical bookworm, with thick rimmed glasses and big bulging braces. She was really just another girl—invisible and unnoticeable in the rush of high school life. Average.
That was how Troy would normally describe his girlfriend.
Average.
The key word here would be normally, because the girl that had just stepped into view was nothing below spectacular.
He gulped.
The words, never judge a book by its cover rang in his mind. They had never been so true.
She took a tentative step down, her heels scraping against the hardwood stairs. She smiled hesitantly at him, watching the reaction on his face.
He smiled back reassuringly and held out the flower in his hand.
"My lady."
She giggled. It wasn't the type of laugh he usually heard. Her laugh was music to his ears—it was genuine. Then she curtsied, her eyes filling with mirth as she stood back up.
She was wearing a stunning dark purple cocktail dress that fit snuggly around her upper body, showing off her flat stomach and her natural curves. Her tanned shoulders were bare. She wasn't wearing a necklace of any sort, which drew Troy's eyes to her low strapless dress and cleavage.
The dress was the epitome of upper class sexy, teasing but not revealing. Her dark mane of hair was up in a loose bun, purposely made messy to contrast the clean cut dress.
And yet, even through this transformation, she remained herself—opting for little make up. Charcoal eyeliner, a touch of mascara, earthy blush and some lipgloss was all she had on.
By now, she had reached the bottom of the stairs, her stiletto black heels clicking against the floor.
Troy took a step back.
"How do I look?" Her voice was quiet—like a child's in the dark. She took the rose from his hands appreciatively. A line of black bracelets jingled as she moved her small hands.
"Absolutely beautiful," he replied without missing a beat. It wasn't a lie. He meant it with every ounce of his being.
At this rate, he wasn't sure if he could keep up with his morals. He may be a bastard at times, but he would never push a girl into doing anything she didn't want. That was his one rule—but now, he was afraid he would break that rule.
In any case, he took her hand and guided her to his car, promising her mother he'd have her back before midnight.
Gabriella laughed when the door shut behind them.
"Before midnight?"
He rose one perfect brow questioningly as they continued walking.
"I don't know," she said thoughtfully as he opened the door for her. "It just sounds like Cinderella or something. Before the clock strikes twelve."
The door shut with a bang, and Troy walked to the other side.
He got in beside her. "Well if you're Cinderella then who would I be?"
"The prince," she said, shrugging her shoulders carelessly. She heard the car rip to a start and watched as they left her house—her comfort zone. She clasped her hands together, unsure of what do to with them
"I'm no prince." Troy decided to be truthful, whether she would understand that truth or not. He fought to keep his eyes away from her, figuring it was better they arrive without accident.
"And I'm no Cinderella, so that's okay," she admitted. She twiddled the flower in her hand, thinking of a way to continue conversation.
"You know, roses aren't my favourite flower," she said thoughtfully. Then added quickly with a blush, "not that I don't appreciate it!"
He risked looking at her, admiring the natural pink of her face. It was a mistake as he had trouble tearing his eyes away.
"It's okay." He realized just how much he didn't know her. To be honest, he hadn't really been trying to know her. "Why don't you like roses?"
She regarded his profile, and wondered briefly why he had chosen her. She had often considered it, but never had the courage to ask him. "Hmm?" she muttered, not catching the question.
"Why don't you like them?"
"Oh, I don't know. They're pretty and all, but…they're so typical."
"Which do you like then?"
She thought for a moment. "Daffodils."
"Daffodils?"
"Or daisies. You know, the simple flowers," she decided.
He nodded, intrigued by the girl beside him. Daffodils and daisies. He made a mental note.
The car ride continued in comfortable silence.
Troy snapped out of his reverie. That had been the beginning of the amazing night. The first night that he had considered Gabriella more than just a conquest—whether he realized it or not.
There was not a moment in that night after they had arrived that Troy had considered what his classmates' reactions would be. It had simply disappeared from his mind.
Everyone had been surprised, wondering who Troy's date was. More than once, he had heard people wonder if this girl was new to the school. Troy and Gabriella had shared a secret smile at those remarks. Without being aware of it, Troy had been more focused on making her comfortable than anything else, diverting the attention away from her when he saw her feel uneasy.
He remembered their dance.
"Troy," Gabriella whispered, he head against his strong, hard chest.
He instinctively pulled her closer to him. He made a noise in his throat to acknowledge that he had heard her.
She looked up, her arms around his neck as they swayed to the slow music. "Do you want to go outside?"
He watched her nibble her bottom lip, unknowingly making him want to capture her mouth in his. But he knew she wasn't ready. She wasn't that type of girl and for some reason, Troy respected that and found it refreshing. Troy moved his hand that had been resting on the small of her back and brought it to her face, gently twirling the loose tendrils of her hair around his finger.
"I want to go anywhere you go," he whispered, sending chills down her spine.
She surprised him with her next action.
She leaned on her toes, using him as her support, and planted a quick kiss on his chin, right under his lips.
Troy didn't know how to react, although his body did.
He watched as red crept up her skin as she buried her face in his shoulder.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He gently tucked his thumb under her chin and tilted her head up.
"Um.." she began, looking around cautiously. She gestured for him to bend lower so she could whisper in his ear.
He did.
"I missed," she said, so softly that he barely heard. But he did, and he let out a chuckle. Gabriella frowned, pursing her lips as Troy laughed at her. "Are you done yet?" she asked impatiently.
"You're just…so cute." He responded by kissing her lightly on the lips. "There."
Gabriella smiled against his lips. It was a short kiss. A promising kiss. A loving kiss.
She looked over his shoulders after they pulled apart, and noticed the stares. She began to feel uncomfortable, and as a result, held Troy tighter.
He noticed. He also noticed the lingering glances. "Let's get out of here."
Gabriella studied him for a moment. His eyes searched hers, awaiting an answer. She wanted to know if he truly didn't mind leaving—she knew she wouldn't.
"Yeah," she nodded. "Let's go."
It had truly been a magical night. The end was so much better. In retrospect, Troy wondered how they were able to escape that night. He never really understood how they were able to slip out unnoticed and honestly, he didn't care.
Gabriella let go of their entwined hands as they reached the front of the building. She ran head, pushing through the doors and into the cool fresh air.
"Hurry up Troy." She held the door, waiting for her boyfriend to catch up.
"Coming, coming," he laughed. "You're in a rush."
She looked down. "It was just so…"
"Stuffy?" he asked. She nodded, glad that he understood. "I know. So now, where shall we continue this night?" he asked gallantly, sweeping her into his arms and twirling around foolishly.
She shrieked with laughter, allowing herself to relax in his arms. Finally, as they stopped, Gabriella spotted a nearby park.
Troy followed her gaze, watching as her eyes lit up.
"The park?" Somewhere into the night, Troy had found himself doing anything to please his beautiful girlfriend.
She turned towards him, and Troy found her with her lips forming a frown. "It's just that…"
Troy waited for her to continue, choosing not to press.
"My feet hurt," she admitted softly. "I don't really like high heels."
Troy laughed. He couldn't ever remember laughing so much on a date before. He guided her to a bench. "Why'd you wear them then?"
She looked at him, bewildered. "I just thought..you'd like them?" She smiled. "Do you?"
"Not if they hurt." She watched abashedly as he slipped them off her feet. She tried to stop him, but he shook her hand off, reassuring her with a smile. Troy knew that Gabriella felt self conscious around him, and he didn't want her to continue feeling that way. "Damn things!" he yelled dramatically, as he took them off and pretended to throw them roughly to the ground. Gabriella burst into laughter, her embarrassment forgotten.
Troy stood up, her shoes in hand, and turned around.
After a while, he looked back to see Gabriella sitting, looking at him as if he were crazy. He pointed to his back. "Climb on."
Gabriella's lips parted, and a small oh escaped her lips. She was about to refuse, when she looked down at her aching feet.
She threw her hands around his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist at the same time. It was a little difficult with her dress. He held her lower thigh to support her, and began the trek to the park. "Hold on tight." Gabriella didn't have time to analyze his words.
"Troooyyyyy!" screamed Gabriella, as she gripped on for her life. Troy had taken to sprinting the way there, with an uneasy girl on his back. He laughed.
When she saw that he had no intention of slowing down, she dug her head into his neck and smiled, still holding on tightly.
By the time they got there, Gabriella knew her hair was wildly blown. She knew she looked like a complete mess—but she also saw that Troy's boyish grin had never left his face. Without pausing to reconsider, she jumped off into the sand and ran to the swings, collapsing on the seat.
"Come on!" she called, "Just throw the shoes by the side."
He nodded, and Gabriella wiggled her numbing toes as she waited. She buried her feet into the sand trying to keep them warm.
"Troy!" She suddenly wanted to capture the brilliant moment. "Do you have your cell phone?"
Troy smiled, leaning back into his couch. That was the moment they had taken the picture. They had spent the rest of the night in the cool autumn air, sitting together on the large swing watching the stars.
He tossed the picture lightly onto the coffee table in front of him, closing his eyes and rubbing the ache in his neck.
That had been so long ago.
Things had changed between then and now. For one, Gabriella was engaged.
Half of Troy wanted to make Gabriella see the mistake she was making. But the other half of him couldn't justify that she was making a mistake at all.
Troy had met her fiancé just this morning. His name was Johnny. Troy had been coming home this morning when they ran into each other outside.
They had talked briefly. An awkward encounter on Troy's side. It was obvious the other man knew nothing of his fiancée's past. But still, as much as Troy hated to admit it, he was good for her. And as her friend, which he had proposed just the other day, he should be happy for her. This was the reason he had picked up the photo.
Troy knew that he should forget about it—about them. He had tried. He had dated other girls, been in other relationships—but nothing could quite compare. After each one, he would take out the picture. And during each new relationship, he would store the picture away.
Now, with Gabriella back in his life, the photo had found a constant home on his night table. It didn't feel right to date other women anymore.
He should have gone after her immediately after he realized his mistake. He should have apologized. Made her understand. But he had been ashamed of his actions.
And then, a week after, she had disappeared, heading off to university early in order to avoid him.
She went her way.
And Troy went his.
Now it was too late. Troy honestly didn't want to believe that—but he knew he had no right interfering with her life anymore.
He had had his time; his chance.
He had hurt her.
And now he had to let her go.
He knew Gabriella still didn't like working with him. He knew she still held back from him. But they would become friends—Troy would try his hardest to make sure of that.
Troy stood up and picked up the photo, returning it to it's home.
It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
That was a lie if he ever had anything to say about it.
