The old building stood tall, with its arched dome pointing proudly to the night sky; a vestige of a more glorious past where its lights would shine late at night, and colorful banners along with pinned white letters, were displayed on the black marquee, welcoming young and old to spend a great night among their family and friends. But its shiny lights and proud stature were long gone and now, it appeared quite austere in the dark. Troy wasn't sure why he came here or why he had brought Gabriella with him. This place was a part of a life that he often wanted to forget but, somehow, always found comfort remembering. In his worst days, when the fight against the powerful desire to shoot heroin in his veins was too hard to win, Alfred always reminded him that sometimes, to find the answer, you have to go back your steps and start over from where you got lost. And tonight, his fingers tightly intertwined with the one person he desperately needed to be with, he knew that he had just found the right path again.

As he expected, the big front double glass doors were bolted shut, so he simply kept on walking, evening out his steps so that Gabriella could easily follow him. The lampposts surrounding the area were casting their shadows before them and he smiled, realizing how perfectly well matched their difference in height made them look. But he didn't need the light to see where he was going. He knew this place and the surroundings better than his back pockets. He knew every little holes on the large brick wall located on the south side, and every little details of the graffiti that he and the members of his old street gang had painted despite all the efforts of the local police to stop them.

They silently crossed the yard. Their feet were crunching the tiny rocks, while keeping their breathing light and regular. He liked this, the adolescent still alive inside of him thought gleefully. He liked that it was just the two of them, partners in crime blending in the shadows of the night. He liked the trust she placed in him as she followed and both fell quiet without having to direct the other to do so. Their minds just seemed to always be in perfect harmony. And he liked the complete silence around them, only broken by the few cars driving along the highway, just a few miles over the bridge.

"Let me guess, you know the owner?"

His lips curved into a half smile. He could tell that, by the rigid tone of her voice, she was starting to freak out. A commercial train slowly made its way on the nearby tracks, a loud and deft sound shifting the stillness in the air. He managed to hide the enjoyment from his voice. "Nope. Dan, my stepfather, sent the owner to prison a few years ago. I heard the prick left town as soon as he got out."

"Oh?"

"Fraud," the young man explained as he turned the corner and smiled at the view of the window he was looking for, to gain access inside the building. "Or maybe a deal gone wrong between him and Dan, I'm not sure."

Frowning, for being quite intrigued, Gabriella quickly forgot about asking more details on what he just said, and gasped when the young man bent over to pick up a rock from the ground. She released the hand he was still holding, to quickly stand in front of him, fear shading her eyes.

"What are you doing? You're not thinking of..."

"Yep," the play of the lights cast weird, playful shadows on Troy's face as he smiled mischievously. "We're breaking and entering." He hadn't finished talking that Gabriella let out a small shout that she quickly hid behind her hands, as she frightfully watched the rock fly out to hit the small window located on the ground level. The crackling sound of the glass breaking awoke some rodents nearby as the shuffling sounds of their running feet made her heart jump.

"Troy stop," she did her best to pull at his sleeve as he was actively finishing breaking the window with his foot. But all her efforts were in vain. "That's a crime. We're committing a crime. Stop, what if somebody hears or sees us? What if they call the cops?"

Troy grinned maliciously. "Do you think your mother's husband will agree to be my lawyer, if we get arrested for vandalism?"

"That's not funny," she angrily blew out threw her clenched teeth. "Please, Troy, I really don't feel comfortable with this."

He read the fear on her face and heard the apprehension in her voice. His thumb soothingly nuzzled her cheek and he made his voice smooth. "Little girl, I would never put you in harm's way."

"Then don't do this," she prayed to him, her hands clutching the front of his blazer jacket. "Let's go somewhere else."

His jaw ticked. He didn't want to scare her but just as much as he was not able to resist the need to see her and be with her, he couldn't resist the pull this place had on him either. He wrapped her in his arms and searched for her eyes after leaving a kiss on her forehead.

"What if I called the cops myself and asked them for permission to stay?" The young girl stared at him blankly and he explained, "I am going to call the chief of police and kindly ask him if we can go in."

"The chief of police?" She asked, flabbergasted.

"Yeah, he's an old family friend."

Gabriella barely contained herself from rolling her eyes. "Of course, he is," she breathed out. Why would she be surprised by now? "It's almost one O'clock in the morning, Troy."

"He won't mind," he said with quite an assurance in his voice. He put the call on speaker and smiled at her while the line was ringing. His other arm never left the small of her back as he kept her pressed against his chest. "He's a gracious man. He's always grumpy when talking to me, but I think it's because he's a little overworked."

A very deep and harsh voice -probably still muffled with sleep- answered, as if the person behind the phone was very upset to be bothered, "Frizpatrick."

"Brian, it's Bolton." His voice was calm and even. A little too much, Gabriella thought. As if he was speaking to someone he really disliked but did his best to tolerate. "How's the family?"

"Troy Bolton?" The voice replied before letting out a disgruntled groan. "Shit. Don't tell me you're in Bowen."

"I'm in Bowen."

Gabriela frowned when the man cursed on the phone again before letting out a deep sigh. "I thought I got rid of you for good. What did you do this time? Do I need to keep all my men on the lookout for shit blowing up?"

"Calm down, I come in peace. I just want to ask for your permission to use the old theatre on Raven."

A short silence. "Are you fucking with me? It's fucking," a loud rattling sound came up on the phone as if the man was looking for something and he came back swearing even more. "Did you see what time it is, Bolton? I don't have time, or the patience, for your stupid pranks, you hear me?"

Troy sighed. "Listen, I've retired from my old ways. I'm trying to do things the proper way now, and that's why I called you. Can I stay there or not?"

The man snorted, "my ass. I bet you already broke a window again, didn't you?"

A smile stretched his lips. "Stop bolting the doors."

"Get a fucking clue, Bolton. Im'ma put iron bars on these windows, the first chance I get." Brian barked on the phone before puffing out. "You've got one hour."

Troy raised a brow while looking at Gabriella who seemed very focused on listening to the conversation, her head slightly bent to the side and her lower lip inside her mouth. Oh, how he yearned to bite on that lip himself! To hear her moan pile up in her throat as he slowly and carefully sunk his teeth in her flesh. His hand on her back tightened his grip when the wave of desire came crashing down in the pits of his stomach. He needed way more time than a short, pitiful hour with his little girl.

"Give me the whole night and I promise, I'll go back into the shadows."

Brian scoffed, "I've stopped hoping," he mumbled. "I'll call the guys surveilling the area to leave you alone. No wild parties, you hear me, Bolton? And break anything else and I'll put the cuffs on you myself."

"I already told you, Brian, I only do kinky stuff like that with girls." The man on the phone hung up after gallantly inviting Troy to go do something crude with himself. Unfazed and seemingly amused, Troy gently lowered his forehead on Gabriella's, and his voice scratched the back of his throat when he spoke in a very low, soft tone, "You can use shackles on me anytime you want."

It was dark and she knew the spare lights coming from the lampposts, weren't bright enough to allow him to see it, but the young girl blushed profusely and let out a very nervous laughter. She wanted to face palm herself; how did the boy manage to make her lose a good working mind so easily? She cleared her throat.

"Feather or leather?" She asked hesitantly, having no clear idea what she was saying, merely just trying not to sound as inexperienced -and vanilla- as she really was. She must have read an article about doing kinky business in the bedroom on Buzzfeed, or was it Taylor who had shared some of her devious sexual practices with her? No matter the reason why she thought of answering like this, didn't matter. But she wished she could stop her heart from beating so hard, but of course, Troy only smiled after seductively biting into his lower lip, making her blood run wild. His fingers caressed the small of her back and his lips puckered a lingering kiss behind her ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps running on her skin.

"Surprise me," he whispered in breathless voice, before pulling his head back up. "But all in due time, love. Now, we have a crime to commit."

She didn't need to be a genius to understand from that interesting phone call, that it wasn't Troy's first time breaking the law, and something told her that it certainly wouldn't be the last. An electrifying mix of erotic excitement and fear surged through her, and she held her breath in when his lips met with hers in a very gentle way. She reprimanded herself once more, when she realized that Troy had managed to seduce her into doing something she didn't want to. Although, she had to admit, the phone call really appeased her worries about being caught and getting herself in even more trouble than she already was, by sneaking out of her room in the middle of the night. That was so far, just as bad and risky, as allowing Troy to spend two whole nights, sleeping in her room. But the thrill of being 'bad' and having a partner in crime, doubled her excitement. Oh, Que sera, sera! She had to live a little.

"Here," Troy spoke again as he removed the blazer he was wearing. "'I'll place this on the window pane to protect you from the glass debris. I'll go first, so wait for me. When I tell you, just come in and jump, I'll catch you."

She grimaced, "I don't think my bum and my back like this plan."

He gave her his one thousand watts smile and she watched him with wonderment, expertly climb through the window pane, then disappear inside the dark, cold building. She asked herself how many times exactly did he practice that manoeuvre to do it so perfectly. She wrapped her body with her arms, urging her mind not to freak out by the eerie silence and moving shadows, coming from the semi darkness surrounding her and did her very best not to jump out of skin as critters seemed to have suddenly surrounded her. She silently prayed they wouldn't eat her alive and begged Troy to hurry up.

Landing swiftly on both his feet, the athletic wrestler slapped his hands together to remove the dust he felt them covered with, and involuntarily blinked in the complete darkness that was now surrounding him. His heart beat in joyful anticipation when he remembered the good old times of his late nights shenanigans. He instantly hid part of his face in the crease of his elbow to sneeze, when the stale and dirt-filled air trickled his nostrils. The lights from the lampposts sternly standing outside, couldn't come in the building and he had to turn on the flashlight on his phone to look around. Nothing had seemingly changed, he noted, as he took two cautious steps in the dark. He was in the boiler room, the reason he chose this particular window, and helped by his flashlight, quickly found the fuse box behind the giant water heater and AC units. He turned on the main lights of the theatre, one after another.

He blinked many times when the bright light around him hurt his eyes, but he had to refocus when he heard Gabriella's impatient voice calling out his name. "Sweetheart, that's okay, I'm right here. Can you see me?" He smiled at the young girl when he saw her full head of curls through the window. "Just slide your body down, slowly, and I'll catch you."

"You better," Gabriella said, while very carefully sliding her body through the hole, feet first and firmly planted on the windowpane. Although Troy's jacket was covering the broken pieces, she made sure her bare legs didn't touch the glass at all. Which was not as much as an easy task as she thought it would be. The jump down wasn't so bad, she judged–probably just four or five feet high- but the angle along with the broken glass threat, made it seem like the opposite. Oh, how she wished she was as nimble as Troy was! Or at least, just a little. "Don't make me regret this, Bolton." She closed her eyes and let out a faint noise when she jumped down.

But gravity stopped working when her fall came to a sudden halt. She tried to open one eye and breathed out of relief when she found Troy's arms circling her whole body, and her feet not even touching the ground. His warm smile welcomed her and she circled his neck with both arms. "My hero, you saved me," she sighed out, batting her eyelashes in a cutesy way. "I think you deserve a kiss for your bravery, handsome lad."

"Lad?" Troy asked, with fake anger. "Fine, walk on your own then." She squealed when he let her down her feet without warning, and backed away. "If I were a stud, I would have been strong enough to carry you, but alas," he turned to face her, after removing his jacket form the window and shaking it off to remove the pieces of glass attached to the fibre. "I am only but a measly lad."

"But I said handsome," Gabriella giggled and jumped on his back, piggybacking him.

The young man groaned under the attack but kept on walking, supporting her weight on his back by holding her up with both hands placed under her legs. She kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling his ear with her nose, before finally paying attention to her surroundings. The room was at least 18 cm high by 30 wide, filled with boilers of different sizes, machinery of all kinds, and a rigid, elbow-shaped staircase on the other end. She could easily imagine the thundering sounds and shakes of all these engines working in unison to keep the building running when it was still operating. But for now, they were all standing lifeless, covered with dirt and spider webs. She immediately felt the need to fill the creepy silence that started to slip under her skin.

"Troy, what is this place?"

The bare wood of the stairs creaked under both their weight as Troy steadily climbed up.

"When I was around seven years old," he spoke calmly, "my grandfather got diagnosed with skin cancer, and my mother had to work full-time at our family company, before becoming the CEO, a few years later. Being an only child, she had no other choice really so, my siblings and I spent a lot of time with babysitters and nannies." He stopped talking to open a large metal door that gave him some resistance, probably because of being rusted in all parts. He continued walking straight down a bare hallway, giving access to another door made out of wood.

Gently signalling her to step down, Gabriella waited outside of the door as Troy walked in and turned on the light switch, before inviting her in by offering his hand. He spoke again, "Taking care of a sick husband was really hard on my grandmother -and possibly also to escape the meanness of a dying old man- at times, she would bring me and the twins here."

Still confused and quite curious, Gabriella barely had time to fully see the room cramped from one wall to the next, with multitude cardboard and storage boxes along with wooden chairs and other furniture: a giant sofa and two small mattresses protected against the dust by big plastic covers. Finally, three huge wooden trunks that, too, seemed to be filled to the hilt by different types of clothing, makeup and other accessories. But as Troy continued walking, pulling her after him by the hand, she kept on going until they stumbled upon another hallway -shorter in distance- decorated with different picture frame sizes, and large red curtains. They went up a new set of stairs made of small four steps, pushed more curtains and her eyes brightened with delight when she found herself standing on a giant theatre stage, the bright colourful lights located above their heads, shining directly on her.

"Live theatre," Troy shouted, arms wide opened, standing in the middle of the platform and spinning on himself. "Shakespeare, Churchill, Molière, Aristophanes... the best of the best of their plays, the amazing stories of life and death. Of love, treason. They were all told here." The excited young man threw his jacket on the floor and re-enacted the stories he was visualizing in his head with grand, dramatic gestures, changing the tone of his voice to mimic different characters and emotions. Joy, sadness, pain and anger appearing on his features as needed.

Gabriella stood still and laughed while clapping, amazed to discover, yet again, a brand new side of him. "You're so good," she cheered on excitedly. "I can't believe you know all these lines from so many plays."

"I remember them all, " he shrugged, a gleam of light brightening the sea-like blue of his irises. "I don't even need to make an effort. My brain is wired to remember every word. I can recite twenty of the best, most iconic motivational speeches in movies, shows, whatever." He turned to Gabriella, winking playfully. "Those can be very handy when it comes to motivate my team."

She giggled. "I bet you used to come here quite often."

Grabbing her hand, Troy flew down the stairs like a demented, pulling her after him. Laughing loudly, she followed him and stopped just in time not to run into him as he stood abruptly at the bottom of the stage, looking in towards the vast, empty and dark space where the rows of chair were lined up for the audience.

"Look here," he pointed to her in the distance. She looked anyway, feeling bad about telling him that she couldn't see anything due to the lack of lighting in that specific section he wanted to show her. She could clearly see the red -or maybe dark brown- seats placed right in front of them, and the long rows of chairs, each placed at a different levels but beyond that, only her imagination allowed to visualize the upper level he was pointing at. "My granny had a private box over there on the mezzanine. I would feel so happy every time she would bring me, that I would beg her to take me every single day. Sometimes, I would escape from our house to ride my bike to come look through the windows. It would drive my mother and nannies crazy."

Gabriella carefully watched the pure, unbridled happiness emanating from him and she hugged him, both her hands wrapping his waist as she nested her body against him. Through all this time they've spent talking on the phone, and the few occasions she'd seen and spent with him, she never knew he could sound or look so exalted, so lost in his emotions. He was always so calm and in control; gentle with her and laughing, but always guarding himself, restraining his words, actions and feelings.

But now, it wasn't the physical vulnerability she's seen him display when he got sick, but rather an emotional one as he told her details of his love for live theatre, and all of his visits with his grandmother. He had brought her there as an invitation inside his heart, for her to see the happy child still living inside of him. A child, she guessed, who was forced to grow up too fast. A child who made mistakes and got in trouble more than he wanted to, but was also forced to change, to morph to take on adult responsibilities. A child turned into a man who was now silently and bravely suffering, walking everyday alongside the shadows of his past and guilt, for hurting the ones he loved.

"I was mesmerized, the very first time I came here," Troy continued, his eyes glazed by his memories. "The lights, the songs, the intrigue... My grandmother would practically hold me back by my shirt to prevent me from falling down," he laughed, "because all I wanted was to be a part of it."

"Did you ever try your hand at acting?"

He chuckled. "Oh, yeah! As soon as I got into St Denis, the first thing I did was to audition for the drama club. They were doing The Winter's Tale for the Christmas show and I landed the role of Antigonus. Those were the best times of my life."

"Now, I understand why the drama club is so important to Sharpay. This place must have had a great influence on her too."

Troy stayed pensive for a second before nodding. "Yeah, I forgot she and I have that in common." He shrugged then looked down at Gabriella, a very sad smile on his lips. "When my stepfather closed it down and put a lien on the building, I was devastated. The plays were only done by the students at St Denis afterwards. They could only afford to do two per year, and the production value just couldn't compare."

"So you come here sometimes, to remind yourself of that time when you were happy."

Tears burned her eyes, as she saw the glint of joy in his pupils being replaced by sadness. She wanted to console him, let him know that he could always come to her to find solace and happiness. That it was alright for him to let his guards down with her, that she would be there to catch him whenever he needed a safe place to rest. Tell him how hard her heart was beating only for him and how deeply she had falling in love with him.

But it wasn't the time yet, she could sense it. He wasn't ready for that just as much he wasn't ready to tell her every details about all the wrong things he'd down in the past. And once again, she realized that she would be patient. Her love would give her the strength to wait until what she had to offer, was what he needed. But for now, at this exact minute, she knew exactly what would make him smile again.

"Come with me," smiling cheekily, she pulled at his hand. Frowning, he didn't ask her any questions, but simply followed her back to the storage room where she first saw all the costumes and stage decorations. "Can you remember the very first play you saw? Or your favorite one?"

Leaning a shoulder against the wall, Troy quietly watched her open some boxes and look intently inside of them. "Why?" He asked.

"Because we're going to be in a play tonight," she answered, her mischievous smile widening. She squealed as she found an old white wig with long curly hair along with a bright pink, pixie one. She waved her hand to fan away the small cloud of dust that flew in the air and coughed a little before speaking again. "Would you like to be Puck in Midsummer night's dream, or Brabantio in Othello?"

Troy laughed, his arms folded across his chest as if he were trying to stop his heart from beating very fast. There was just something about this girl that often rendered him speechless. The beauty of her mind and her inner self. The way she made it so easy for him to talk to her, to understand his feelings without him having to say a lot, allowing him to bare his soul and knowing that he would find comfort with her. The way she made everything simple, void of unnecessary drama and yet, always took his pain seriously, never downplaying his misery.

Even when he didn't want her to; even when he was trying to hide, she always found a way to bring him out of the shadows often trapping his heart and soul, as if she knew exactly whether he needed to be reassured, or simply vent out his frustrations. She always seemed to know the difference. He didn't like the way she made him so vulnerable when he was with her, or had him dream about her, late at night. He hated the way she was all he could think about all day long and how much he felt like dying, a few hours earlier, unless he held her against him. And he hated that she wasn't in his arms at this precise moment.

Tired of always holding back, the young man left the wall he was standing against and walked up to the one girl he knew, had ever made him bring his emotional barriers down, and held his heart in the palm of her hand. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her small frame, her back cradled on his chest and his face buried in her hair. Gabriella stopped talking, immediately sensing both the affection and the frailty he was conveying in this close embrace.

Dropping the wigs, she completely abandoned her body against his chest and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while her other hand, circled his that were resting around her body. They both stayed still and silent; him finding comfort in her warmth and her, communicating all the love she felt in her heart and hoping it'd be enough. But they moved at the same time when the hunger in their touch became more pressing, and the physical desire ignited, slow and gentle, but already burning hot. He let go, just enough so that she could turn around to face him, but held her tightly again, while pulling her up and guiding her into wrapping her legs around his strong frame.

He needed that calm energy she was feeding him with; it helped his mind to rest, and it appeased his inner turmoil. That gentle touch her fingers, moving along the back of his neck and shoulders, brought a heavy and pulsing ache down in his chest, that made it hard for him to breathe properly. But he wanted that pain, more than he could ever be able to express, as well as the kisses she was covering the side of his neck with. He groaned when shivers ran through his whole body when her lips found his earlobe and played with it, in a slow, sensual motion. She excited him to the point of breaking all his resistance.

His hands slowly traced the line of her back, sneaked under her shirt, and he enjoyed the way her body bucked unto him when he touched her smooth skin. His fingers went down eagerly, as they traced the line where her shorts stopped, going under the garment and retracting again. He wanted to tear her clothes off and take her savagely right there, where he was standing. But it wasn't for just sexual gratification, but an unexplained, emotional requirement by his heart and soul. He simply wanted the drunken feeling of her naked skin against his, as she took him deeper and deeper inside her. He couldn't stop the powerful urge that grew stronger and stronger. His knees weakened and menaced to bring him down.

Pulling her body higher on him, he barely found the strength to walk up to one of the big sofas, and let their bodies fall down, after removing the plastic covering. He breathed in deeply, still fighting to regulate the flow of oxygen entering his lungs, not to pass out. Becoming aware of Troy's difficulties, Gabriella sat up on his laps. "Troy, what's wrong?"

Eyes closed, the young man took another deep breath before answering, "Nothing. Just couldn't find my breath for a minute."

"Want me to get down? I'll open these other windows to let some fresh air in."

He quickly stopped her and brought her head back on his shoulder. "No," he whispered, "Absolutely not. Don't move. Don't leave me," he added in an even lower voice.

"Oh, baby, I will never," she quickly reassured him as she placed her forehead on his, before kissing his right cheek. "I'm right here with you." Her left hand sought out for his and she held it tightly, lacing their fingers together. "What happened to you today? What's eating at you like this?" Her thumb gently caressed the dimple on his chin. "why are you so sad?"

"I'm exhausted," Troy confessed after a full minute of staying silent and breathing deeply. "I've been doing press all week long for our upcoming championship, and posing with our sponsors." He exhaled, "today had been a very long, trying day."

"I was wondering what was up with the suit and tie," the young girl remarked by gently pulling on his two shaded blue striped tie. She did remember him mentioning details of his requirements as the captain of his team, when it came time to go through the preparations before a big tournament. The nationals were the biggest there were and she had guessed how much pressure he was currently under. But she could have never imagined he'd be so emotionally, and physically drained. "Are you still going to Russia for the holidays?"

"Yeah," he nodded forlornly. "We're leaving next week and then, Singapore. We have ten meets in total, along with other obligations."

"But it's all friendly, right? No pressure to win."

Troy chuckled and finally looked at her. "There's always pressure to win, love. A friendly meet is still competition and in sports, a defeat is never forgotten."

Gabriella brought her lips together, and ran her thumb up and down his neck. "There's no way to escape, huh?"

"Nah, I like it," Troy let his head fall back to allow her caress to continue. "I like keeping busy, and release tension by fighting in a controlled and secure way. When I stay idle, I make stupid decisions that never end well." His smile was sad again and Gabriella quickly wrapped her hands around his neck, attempting to bring him comfort. "But being diabetic constantly brings me down. That's what makes it so damn hard."

Not knowing what to do or say to make him feel better, Gabriella simply held him tight, her head on his shoulder while slowly stroking his neck and chest. The fact that Troy sought her out to be with him when he needed a friend, didn't escape her, and it left her overwhelmed. Out of all the people he knew and could have been with, he wanted her. Her heart exploded in her chest and she caught herself just in time not to profess her feelings for him. It was really hard to have such strong deep feelings for someone and not be able to express them the way she'd like to. But like she told Taylor before, she would not rock the boat and scare him into something he probably wasn't ready for. She wanted a real, meaningful relationship with him and the fact that he looked for her in his time of distress, was a good first step that brought her hopes up that one day, they could finally have that. She raised her head to look at him when he started talking again.

"I had diner with my mother tonight." He spoke in a steady, regular voice but Gabriella knew him well enough to hear the anger hiding behind the quietness of it. He always spoke in that tone when he was upset, and was trying to control himself. His right jaw ticked as his eyes darkened and she knew she was right about the state of his mood.

She gave him her full attention but was disappointed when he stopped talking. She knew he had quite a rocky relationship with his mother, although he never delved into the details. She sensed that his tiredness due to his busy lifestyle, was not the only thing bothering him. Something happened with his mother that left him deflated. Opposite to what she would usually do, she decided to push him into talking, knowing he would feel better after he let it all out.

"Can I safely assume that the food wasn't really good?"

The young man scoffed. He moved as to have her sit on the chair and stood up on his feet, the need to be mobile again, to release the pressure weighing on his chest and inside his heart, coming back full force. He stretched out his legs and arms before loosening the tie around his neck.

"I love my mother," he said, his jaw ticking more than ever. "I've put her through hell over the years and she did the best she could to help me, with the cards I threw at her." He sighed and bent down to pick up a black fedora hat that was sticking out of a box. He fixed it on his head. "But she's always had these crazy expectations for me, and I could never live up to them."

Bringing both her feet under her, Gabriella leaned back on the couch. "Most parents do for their children."

Standing in front of a long foot mirror placed next to one of the walk-in closets, Troy inspected the reflection coming back at him. His hardened features, the scar striking his chin and the hooded eyelids surrounding his eyes. Many times when he was younger, he would look at his face to find nothing remotely similar to his parents. Maybe the shape of his nose and the blue pigmentation of his eyes were the work of the Bolton's genes, but he was far from having the fine lines that sculpted his siblings features. He buried his hands in his pockets when the urge came to punch his own reflections in the mirror. This face, looking back at him, was the one of his biological father. A reminder he wished he didn't have to live with everyday.

"My grandfather never loved me," his voice came out raspy, as if fighting through the fog in his throat, to get out. "Granted, he was a bastard who wouldn't hesitate to kick someone while they were down, and I guess that at some level, he even hated himself at times, but I've always sensed that he was forcing himself with me." The young man removed the hat and twirled it in his hands, pensive. "It was only after I was diagnosed with a failed kidney, that I learned the reason why."

"When his father, my great grandfather, founded the company in the early sixties, he had made sure that the company always stayed in the family by making all the shares transferable from generation to generation." He turned around to pick up a blond wig and looked at himself again. He never looked good with this hair color. Maybe that was a blessing after all, that he didn't inherit all of the Bolton's physical characteristics. "When my grandfather made the company public a few years back, before he fell sick, there was a specific clause stating that only the first born of a Bolton would be CEO. Therefore, the shareholders can only vote to decide who would be on the board of directors, but the CEO has to be the first born of a Bolton."

"That's a big responsibility." Gabriella thought at loud.

"The prick wasn't happy that my mother, a woman, was the only child he got for his succession, but I think he was even more upset at the idea that a bastard like me, or my firstborn, could one day, take control of the business and family fortune." He laughed quietly. "The asshole must suffer from daily whiplash for constantly turning in his grave."

"Why do you feel like he never loved you?"

His shoulders falling down, he removed the wig before coming back to sit next the dark-haired girl. He crossed his fingers on his laps when he was finally able to speak again.

"My mother was only twenty years old when she travelled to Boston to complete her masters in business administration. That's where she met my father. He was the dean of the university and, apparently, they had a torrid but short-lived affair. When she came back to Bowen, four months pregnant and rejected by an older, married man who only cared about his career and real family, my grandfather immediately arranged for her to have an abortion, not wanting to have a bastard in the family."

"Oh, my gosh, Troy," Gabriella let out a disgusted gasp. Her hand grasped Troy's as she scooted closer to him. "That's horrible. I'm so sorry."

But the young man simply smiled, "it doesn't hurt as much as before," he reassured her, gently squeezing her fingers with his. "But it was too risky to have an abortion this late into the pregnancy, without endangering my mother's life. But the damage had already been done, and the Bolton's name and reputation were tarnished."

"Well, your grandfather was really wrong for blaming you for that."

He shrugged. "I don't think he knew of an healthier way how to process it. So, he fabricated this lie about my mother eloping with a fellow student who died soon after, from some kind of accident. Then right after I was born, he arranged for my mum to marry the promising and respectable young attorney, Daniel Evans. My mother agreed, but she had practically spent years, begging her father for his forgiveness."

"Who told you this story?"

"Live long enough in Bowen, sweetheart, and you'll see that no secret stays buried for long," Troy let out with sarcasm. "But it was my mother herself who told me the truth after I found out that Dan wasn't my real father. My grandmother confirmed it later, before she passed away. I was only ten when he finally died, but throughout all these years, my grandfather always found a reason to blame my mother, and make me feel like I was a-good-for-nothing fella. I was always the child bastard my mother had brought home with her after she sexually degraded herself. He never wanted me to have any part in the family's business."

Gabriella tickled his neck with her nose before placing her head on his shoulder. Although she had never, not once in her life, felt like she wasn't loved by anyone in her family, she could understand how hard it must have been for Troy to have learned the truth about the circumstances of his birth. She had taken the events that happened in her life this past year in a very tragic way, but she realized that none of the pain she knew, could compare to the hurt and deception that Troy had grown up with. She clearly understood why he viewed himself for the bad guy, he claimed to be. How could he love himself, or someone else for that matter, when he never felt that he was loved? When he never learned to love himself? She had to hold back the tears burning her eyes.

"I'm sure that your grandmother loved you very much, Troy."

The young man leaned back on the chair and brought her against him. His fingers removed the blue scrunchie keeping her hair together before running through the curls. "In my family, she was the only who knew the truth and yet, loved me unconditionally. She was the only one who's ever shown me affection, and never blamed me for anything." He shook his head from side to side as if to remove the painful memories. "But I always promised myself that I would never have anything to do with the company, or my inheritance."

"So you moved away from Bowen as soon as you could."

"I wasn't the perfect child that obeyed the rules. The perfect child that I was expected to be," he whispered. "My siblings and I, we are always scrutinised, always asked to behave in the manner other people would deem to be proper, acceptable to all. The pressure of giving out the image of the perfect family became even greater when Dan ran for his position as the District Attorney, and everything we did and said, ended up at the forefront of the local news." He sighed deeply.

"The twins have always loved being in the spotlight but me, I was suffocating. The only way I knew how to react, was by misbehaving and bringing as much pain and shame on the Bolton's name, as I could." He paused for a minute before continuing, his gaze lost in admiring the perfect way Gabriella's hair twirled around his fingers. "I moved away, because I enjoy a much more private lifestyle. I wanted to feel free of all of that pressure and family obligations. But now that I'm almost twenty-one and I should receive full control of my shares soon, my mother is putting even more pressure on me to come work at the company."

"As the oldest son, I presume she wants to prep you to be her successor one day." Troy nodded. "But you don't want to." He answered by shaking his head again. "Isn't there something that can be done for one of your siblings to replace you? Or some distant, twice-removed cousin?"

"I already looked into that. I'd have to be both intellectually and mentally incapacitated. If not, it would be a long process that could take years where my mother would have to prove that I am unfit to take her place. A bunch of complicated legal mambo jumbo that would involve the whole family and the board of directors. I've asked my mum to do it, but she is very loyal, and by the book. She'd rather die than go against her father's wishes."

"And what are you going to do with your shares once you have control? Would you be able to sell them, if you choose to do so?"

"I haven't decided yet. I still have a few more months until I'm twenty-one." He chuckled. "Who knows, by then, I may decide to stick it up to the old prick and take what's rightfully mine." Letting go of Gabriella, Troy let himself go down his knees and cloaked her body with his arms, placing his head against her beating heart. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes at the feeling of relief and beatitude that fell on him. "I'm so happy you're here with me," he whispered.

Touched beyond words by the way he had completely let go against her, Gabriella kissed the top of his head before running her fingers through his hair. He had cut them really short again, she realized. She opened her legs to draw him even closer and smiled when Troy sighed deeply again, his body slowly letting go against her more and more. Her fingers searched out for his tense muscles, going along the plane of his shoulders and down his strong back, feeling each ripped muscle ripple under his light blue dress shirt. Her thumbs applied some pressure on their way up before, slowly, making their way back down. His breathing seemingly quickening with each slow stroke, each caress. His voice was deep and clouded when he spoke.

"What time is it? I should probably drive you back."

Gabriella groaned and picked up her phone from her sweater's pocket. "Elizabeth hasn't called," she said slowly, her hands back at massaging Troy's back. "She would have if, for some reason, she went up to my room and didn't find me." She kissed Troy's shoulder, letting her lips linger at the base of his neck. "Besides, I must be the last thing on her mind right now. She's preparing for Henry's family to come over for the holidays and she's been stressed like I've never seen her before." The young girl suppressed a yawn before continuing. "She almost chopped my head off today, because she found a dirty cup on my dresser."

Troy chuckled. "And what if she calls?"

"Then I'll tell her that I went for a walk because I couldn't sleep."

Lifting his head from her chest to look up at her, Troy frowned. "Do you do that often? Going for a walk in the middle of the night?"

"A few times, but only when we don't get to talk for long," she shrugged. Her fingers found a very hard knot at the base of his right clavicle and she used both her thumbs, pressing hard on it to try to soothe it out. Troy moaned again, closing his eyes, before replacing his head down on her chest. "I don't go far though. It helps me calm down so that I can fall asleep faster."

"You should call me when you can't sleep."

"Not at two in the morning, Troy."

"It doesn't matter. I'd rather you call then having you wandering the dark streets alone. Ow!"

"Am I hurting you?" she stopped the movements of her thumbs on his back right away, but Troy groaned reluctantly. "Want me to stop?"

"No, it just feels really good." She closed her eyes and bit down a moan as his breath tickled her skin, when he lifted his head from her chest, to place his nose in the crook of her neck. "Don't stop."

Feeling quite adventurous by his request, she removed his shirt tucked inside his pants to be able to touch his skin directly and her heart skipped a beat when her efforts were rewarded by the unmistakable moan of pleasure that left his throat. It was all the encouragement she needed to continue, her eagerness to please him and making him feel good, taking over her shyness and fear of messing up. Her right hand went up in between their bodies and she pushed him away, looking straight at him. She knew that look well now. That hooded, heated look that made his eyes go dark and soft. That look always made her heart beat faster, and took her breath away.

She touched his face, her fingertips appreciating the roughness of his five O'clock shadow, shading his square jaw. From his neck, lean and hard, to the steeliness of his torso. Her eyes still maintaining his gaze locked with hers, she removed the tie around his neck then, one after another, unbuttoned his shirt. But his hand quickly covered hers to stop her and she noticed his Adam's apple going up and down his throat before he whispered her name.

"That's okay," she reassured him. She did hear the wavering in her voice, but with the way her heart was beating so fast and her breath so difficult to catch, it was a miracle she was able to speak at all. She swallowed hard. "That's what I want."

His fingers went behind her neck, his thumb tracing the lines of her right cheek, down to her chin. "Little girl," his voice faltered and he had to clear his throat. "The things I want to do to you," his right hand left her cheek to slide down her neck. His thumb lifted her chin up, exposing the tender flesh of her skin and Gabriela sucked her breath in when his tongue darted out to lick her. "to your body."

Her raspy breathing switched to a fast rhythm, after getting caught in her throat, when Troy suddenly lowered his head, and she felt his kisses on her bare thigh. Slowly, his wet tongue and warm lips tortured her as he imperceptibly made his way up, higher and higher. Her inner thigh caught on fire, and she threw her head back with stunned pleasure when he sucked the sensitive skin in his mouth, before switching to the other leg. Inch by inch, he slowly tortured her as he made his way up. She enjoyed the pain, the raunchiness of his tongue and the delirious sensations he made come alive inside of her, wakening that sound, aching pulse she had now learned to recognize as pure, raunchy sexual desire. His powerful grip clenched around her hips, eliciting her to slide her bum to the edge of the seat, before he used his nose to nudge her to open her legs wide. She held her breath, anticipating his touch, yet scared to be so exposed to him. The need to be completely naked for him and the desire to run away to hide her imperfections, raged war inside of her and she closed her eyes, praying she wouldn't faint, when the young man slowly traced the inside of her thighs with his fingers, stopping just before touching the warm damp entrance of her most secret body part, hidden behind her clothes.

"Gabriella," Troy whispered throatily. "I want to touch you, feel you tremble under me," he scattered a few more kisses, this time even closer to the apex of her legs and she unconsciously opened them wider, silently giving him an access no one was ever given before. His breath, hot and uneven, caressed her skin. His hungry teeth caught her flesh and nibbled, leaving his marks, knowing that no one else but him would ever see them.

"Troy," she begged loudly, her hips thrusting toward his mouth. So close, yet, too far. Her hands flew back in his hair and her whole body shuddered violently when his thumb finally allowed her the desired touch, slowly sliding up and down the rigid fabric of her jeans, but shooting breathtaking bouts of pleasure through her. She relentlessly pleaded with him again when he stopped caressing her but she was quickly rendered speechless, her whole body liquefying, when his mouth finally touched her mound, leaving a soft kiss before he gently bit her, forcing his name to be shouted even louder through her lips.

His name slipping past her lips was a beautiful song to his ears. Grunting with refrained passion and lust, Troy quickly removed his head from between her legs, scared not to be able to control the desperate hunger gnawing at him to devour her, to quench his thirst in her juices and find out if they were just as sweet as he imagined. Gentle and patient, he reminded himself to be. Being touched and kissed in her most intimate part was, without a doubt, a brand-new sensation to her and he didn't want to scare her off by allowing his desire for her, that he had kept refrained for so long, to go unbridled. He was aware that his impatience could physically hurt her and he didn't want her first time to be painful and uncomfortable. He was the experienced one, so it was up to him to take it slow, make it enjoyable for her as well. His right arm circled her waist and he moaned, when her body rubbed his hardened virility in such a delectable way, while straightening up. He settled in between her opened legs wrapped around his waist, his torso against her chest. He gently removed her hair from hiding her face and relished in her gasp when he thrust forward, and his rigid shaft rubbed against her. The intensity of the pleasure, struck him deep in his guts, and left him breathless.

"I was thinking," he whispered throatily, holding her cheek in her palm and making her look directly at him. The sexual hunger and desire he read in her eyes made his stomach churn and he licked his lips. "When I come back from my trip, after the holidays, how about you come over to my place?" His right hand roamed over he left leg, ventured under her shirt to touch her hip. "I could pick you up in the morning and we could spend the day," he paused to enjoy the way her body trembled when his thumb brushed the side of her left breast. "together," he continued, his voice getting cloudier, the more thoughts of her being fully naked on his bed, and completely at his mercy, swarmed his head. His erection pulsed even more painfully. "We would watch those old movies you love and I'd cook for you, while you serenade me with your guitar."

She giggled and he smiled, the fluid and clear sound making his heart jump with joy. He left a kiss on her delicious lips. "And we'd bake chocolate chip cookies for dessert."

"You can't eat chocolate chip cookies."

His smile was conniving. "I can on special occasions, but don't worry, I'll be having another kind of dessert."

Their tongues flirted roughly when they kissed, recognizing each other's taste and calling out a delicious ache, an eagerness that needed to be soothed out. Their breaths, short and ragged, mixed up in a storm that exploded louder and grittier, the deeper the kiss became, the closer their body came to each other. Pleasured-filled moans and breathless sighs cracked the dense veil of deafening silence around them as their hands caressed and discovered. Answering to the powerful call of her sexual wakening, Gabriella didn't think, nor felt inhibited, when she kissed the solid wall that was his chest. The sleek tight skin shivered under her lips, before she went back up to his left ear, sensually playing with the lobe. She wanted him and was blinded by this only confirmation sent out by her heart and her senses that had previously caught on a blazing fire when he kissed and bit her mount.

She became aware of his hands squeezing her thigh then her buttocks, before he pushed her to lay down on the couch, the tightness of his whole body, rubbing her in a delicious way. She wrapped her hands around his neck, her aching nipples pressed firmly against him when their bodies fitted one another, as if they were built only for that purpose. She could feel the heat growing between them as their hunger escalated to new heights, menacing to make her fall into a pool of unknown bliss. Her fingers became impatient as they pulled his shirt down his arms. She groaned with relentlessness when his very masculine and virile scent hit her deep in her guts and she knew she wouldn't find rest until she devoured him whole. She lost control of her hips that grounded on their own, a movement of the body as old as time, that she never learned to perform but came naturally to her, brought out of her by the intensity of her need to feel his delicious stiffness against her.

"Gabri-uh!" he whispered then grunted when her teeth sunk into the side of his neck, biting him hard before sucking his skin in her mouth, and he threw his head back, gasping in a sharp breath. Her fingers and kisses were hot on his skin, making his blood boil so fast, he was feeling lightheaded. Her body arched unto him again, and when he felt the pleasure settling at the base of his spine, he knew he was lost. "My baby, I-I won't be able t-to control myself, if you don't stop doing that."

His hands flew to her hips, desperately grasping at something to keep him grounded. He bit down a vile word when she caught one of his nipples between her hungry lips, her tongue twirling and circling the sensitive bud. He tried, but was unable to stop himself from muttering her name as his hands flew in her hair, his pleasure culminating when he met with the softness of her curls. He knew that one more touch, one more kiss, and no one would be able to stop him from taking her. But he'd rather be damned than to tarnish the memory of their first time making love. by allowing it to be done on a dirty couch, in an old abandoned and crappy building. With any other girl, he would have been fine with the idea, but Gabriella meant too much for him. He loved her way too much not to make the effort to make that moment when she'd give herself to him, special for her.

All the gates he had lifted around his heart throughout the years, to protect it, busted wide opened, leaving him so defenceless, and helpless tears stung his eyes. Gosh, he loved her so much! The powerful force of the sudden realisation of the true nature of his feelings, hit him fast and hard, cutting his breath away and leaving him weak, unsteady. An old vulnerability and fear generated back from when he was a child, from when he was begging for his family's love and acceptance, came back, its black claws tightening their hold around his throat. The fear to deceive and be rejected, and to have his heart broken for loving and caring too much; they all came back, paralysing him, leaving him feeling as if he was drowning. The need to resurface above his emotions, above all that she made him feel, became strong, and he knew he had to get away from her before he was completely consumed by her.

What was the exact moment he let his guards down with her? She made him feel too fragile, with his heart on his sleeve, beating only for her in a way it never did for anyone else before. What would happen if she broke it into pieces because she didn't want him anymore? He had spent so many years reconstructing his previously broken heart, that kept on being hurt by his family while keeping all his feelings and needs at bay. How did she manage to ruin all of his hard work with just one shy, yet endearing, smile? He lifted his body up to pin both her hands over head and spent a minute, his forehead against hers, fighting to catch his breath. His hands held her wrists in place, only way he could make sure she wouldn't touch him again.

"Please stop. You make me too vulnerable, Gabriella," he confessed in a very low, shaky voice, his eyes unable to look straight at her. "Weak. I don't like feeling like this."

Her lips trembled, touched by his confession, but feeling bad that he would feel upset when he's with her. "I don't mean to make you feel that way," she replied softly. "I thought you liked what I was doing."

"I know, and I did." He groaned loudly before getting up in one swift movement and stepping away from the sofa. He needed to be a few feet away from her. That was the only way he could think clearly again. "I enjoy kissing you, and the thoughts of making love to you, keep me awake at night. But that's my point, I enjoy being with you way too much, and I feel like I'm losing my mind, when I can't be with you." His voice got higher as anger against himself, took a hold of him, "I can't have that. I can't live like that."

Sitting up and startled by the anger in his loud voice, Gabriella bit her lower lip very hard to repress her sudden fear. It was the very first time he was using that tone with her and she involuntarily recoiled. Maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought after all, but yet, she felt quite confused. How did he go from kissing her in between the legs, to screaming to her about...? What was he upset about exactly? she asked herself, more perplexed than she'd ever been in her whole life. She frowned when the young man's shaky and brusque body movements, translated a fury the meaning behind his words couldn't quite convey.

"I hate that it's so easy for you to look at me, or touch me, and my heart starts beating like crazy," Troy continued shouting, his furious steps hitting the floor. He kicked one of the boxes out of his way. "I am sick and tired that I can't spend one freaking day, without talking to you. And I can't fucking stop." He turned to look at her. "Oh, I've tried," he seethed out. "I've tried so many times but I can't. Stop."

Pulling both her knees underneath her chin, Gabriella joined her hands around her legs as she patiently watched the young man confess his feelings for her while kicking and screaming. She smiled, when she finally registered that it was his own way to let them out, and probably wouldn't have been able to, otherwise. Not exactly the way she wanted him to, that was for sure, but it only confirmed Taylor's theory: the boy was scared of his feelings for her and was fighting them. The tender, yet heated, way he touched, kissed and caressed her was so very different from this loud angry outburst, but both ways were so just as passionate, leaving her at a lost for words.

"I guess we'll have to find a way to make you stop," she muttered.

"Don't you get it?" Troy turned to face her, his angry eyes shooting daggers at her. "I don't know how to stop. Talking to you makes me feel so good. Your laughter calms me down and I am ready to do anything just so that I can hear it." His hands flew furiously in the air as he resumed walking up and down. "It's like you entered my blood like a drug, leaving me on a constant high. I want you and I need you, but I have no idea how to handle none of those darn feelings that I have for you."

Gabriella remained dumbfounded, uncertain if what he was telling her was a good thing or not. "What do you want me to say? I don't understand what you're saying right now. You have feelings for me?"

"Why else would I be here, with you, at two O'clock in the morning, telling you about my family issues?" Another box flew out of his way. "I don't bring just anybody here, Gabriella, and I certainly don't open up like that to just any girl."

Her heart happily skipped a beat and she smiled like an idiot, "so, you really do like me."

"Like?" He scoffed, and ran a shaky hand in his hair. "I wish I liked you. Because if I did, I would be making love to you right now, instead of worrying about properly wooing you first. I wouldn't care about whether or not you have the power to break my heart and destroy me."

"Troy, I would never break your heart," she exclaimed, her cry coming straight from her heart. "I..."

He abruptly cut her off, "no, don't make any promises, because you will expect me to say them back and I can't." His voice faltered and he turned around, unable to face her. "I told you, I am not a nice guy. Never was and I don't want to be. I will not hold your purse when we go out or, remove my jacket for you when you're cold."

The young girl barely contained her laughter, "I wouldn't be here with you if I wanted to be with a nice guy. And I can carry my own purse, thank you very much."

"You just don't get it, do you?" Troy faced her full frontal again and spoke slowly, his teeth clenched together, and his index finger pointing at her. "What I'm saying is, being with you, no matter how good it feels, is not safe for my sanity. You're all I can think about day and night. I was doing really well before I met you. Before you came and made me feel things I never wanted to feel. I want my life back the way it was before you."

She winced when his words hit her hard, as if he had just slapped her in the face. Anger swelled up in her throat and she felt it burning. Who did he think he was, talking to her like that? And to use that tone with her? Did he think it was easy for her to deal with her feelings for him? Did he think she wasn't scared of being hurt just as much as he was? But she had long accepted her feelings for him, not matter how unexpected and troublesome they may be. If she could act like a big girl about it, he could also assume like a big boy. And if it was a fight he was looking for, a fight he would get. She sat up straight.

"I would say I'm sorry that I am such an inconvenience to your perfect life, but I am not sorry," she replied with determination, her tone laced with contempt. "You think it's easy for me that I can't stop thinking about you, or wanting to be with you 24/7? I don't like it either, but the fact is, fighting the way I feel about you, won't help me accomplish anything. So, you're going to have find a way to deal with all of this on your own, because I am not going anywhere. And stop fidgeting and kicking stuff," she yelled, this time. "It's annoying and you're driving me nuts."

"Me? You're the one driving me nuts. With your peach scented hair, your lips that I want to kiss all the time, and your strong mind and bad temper that turn me on." Not finding anything to do with his hands other than grab Gabriella to kiss her, Troy furiously started to button his shirt back up. "Just stop. Whatever you're doing to make me feel so weak, just stop doing it."

Irritated, Gabriella frowned. "Like what, Troy? What exactly am I doing so wrong that I need to stop?"

"Heck, if I knew," Troy sighed loudly and scratching the back of his head, his stare lost in the distance as if thinking deeply. "Like, stop being so damn sexy in an oversized sweater and stop wearing those cute shorts that make you look so freaking alluring. Stop biting your lower lip so often. That," he pointed his finger at her again. "mostly that. The lip biting is the worst; I can barely control myself when you do that. And the way your eyes brighten up when you look at me, it makes my heartbeat go wild and I can't think."

Gabriella shrugged and breathed out, not even stopping herself from rolling her eyes. "Then, I definitely can't help you, because I'm not even aware that I do any of those things and even if I were," she paused for effect, "those are parts of who I am and I will not change the person that I am to please you. But here's something you can do for me, Troy Bolton, stop pushing me away. It hurts when you do that." She sustained the glare Troy sent her way and she pulled her shoulders up.

"You hurt me when you open up to me one second, make out with me and the next, you try to find a thousand and one excuses for me to stay away from you. One day, it's because you think I won't accept you for who you are, and another, because you're a damn coward, running away because you're too scared of falling in love with me. I'm tired of it. Make up your damn mind about why you don't want to be with me and be honest about it. And until you figure it out, do us both a favor, and go screw yourself." She took a deep breath, trying to calm down from her long tirade and got up to stand firmly on her own two feet. "And I hate it when people shout, so don't you dare shout at me, ever again."

Frozen in his tracks, Troy's heart faltered when he heard the pain in Gabriella's voice and saw the tears making her eyes shine, even from where he was standing. He closed his eyes, swearing at himself for hurting her. This is exactly what he feared; making her cry, breaking her heart because he was unable to give her the kind of relationship she was expecting of him. How could she not see how emotionally damaged he was? How could what he told her about his family not make her realize that he was unable to love, and that a beautiful person like her, deserved no less than someone who would love her unconditionally, without so many deep emotional scars? How did she manage to drive his emotions all over the place like this?

His steps were hurried when he walked up to her and tried to hold her in his arms. She fought him at first, instructing him to leave her alone but he hugged her anyway, holding her even tighter than he did before.

"I'm sorry," he murmured next to her ear, once she finally let go against him, her arms around his body. He slowly caressed her back. "I really don't mean to hurt you."

"You're not doing a good job at it."

"Baby, look at me." He waited until she did. He gently removed the hair from her face. "Being in control is all I have." He strangled and cleared his throat. "I've spent so many years working hard a controlling my feelings, my temper and everything around me. I have to be able to control my thoughts and my actions, otherwise, I implode and everything around me collapses." He took another deep breath,"without that control, I can be a train wreck and there could be no stopping me, until I do some pretty big damages. That's what keeps me whole, grounded. But when I'm with you, I don't have control of anything and that..."

"It scares you," she finished for him.

"It frightens me," he acquiesced.

"I would never ask more of you than what you can give me," her voice trembled, fighting to hold in the tears that menaced to spill out from her eyes. The thought that she would be able to make him lose his control and do something dreeadful, stabbed her heart like sharp daggers. "I don't want to make you lose something that's so important to you. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better. Anything, and I'll do it."

"You're right, that's not up to you," he said forlornly. "Those are my fears. I have to find a way to overcome them."

"You don't have to do it alone. There's got to be a way that I can help. Look at me," she forced him to face her. "You don't have to give in into anything you don't want to."

"I want to give you all of me. I-I just don't know how."

She amorously kissed his cheek. "Then just accept what I have to give you. That's all I'm asking of you for now."

"You are such a great, amazing person, Gabriella, and you deserve better." He cleared his throat again, to be able to say what he had to say. He slowly backed away after letting her go. "I need some time, away from you, to figure out how to deal with all of this."

Her body menaced to fold in two when she felt the atrocious pain of the daggers piercing her heart, breaking it into a million pieces. But she didn't cry. Wouldn't allow herself to cry in front of him. Not when he was the reason for her tears. So, she forced a chuckled, and nodded. "So, I guess no more baking chocolate chip cookies together, huh?"

A heavy and awkward silence settled, while Troy looked directly at her with sad, teary eyes, and swallowed hard before he murmured, "I'm sorry."

He walked away towards the door they came in, signalling her there was nothing left to be said. She raised her chin high and bit down on her lip to be able to swallow the atrocious ache that tried to bust out from her heavy chest. It all felt like absinthe going down her throat, hard and bitter, and she wanted to throw up. But what else could she do but to grant him his wish? Even though his words hurt her like a sharp knife slicing though her, she was glad that he told her the truth instead of simply disappearing from her life. She had no other choice but to allow him the time and space he was asking for, to come to terms with whatever decision he made about them. She couldn't force him to love her the unconditional way she loved him. She wanted for him to feel good about being with her, and not feel upset or frightened. So, she held back her disappointment, pain and sadness.

He brought her back and without kissing her this time, hurriedly drove away. Gabriella quietly looked at the backyard and the hammock slowly balancing in the night. The blanket and book she had thrown on it a few hours earlier, still there, waiting for her return. It was disheartening that someone who had brought her so much joy, was the one who made her feel so miserable. She knew a horrible pain when her father died but this time, it was a different kind but still atrocious and devastating. She felt disoriented, not realizing that she should move, go up to her room before the adults saw her. But none of that mattered anymore. She stumbled unto the swinging bed and buried her face unto a pillow after she covered herself with the blanket. And only then, she let go, allowing her bleeding heart to come out through the gut-wrenching sobs that spilled her tears for hours, over the pillow.