AN: All I'm going to say is, it is getting harder and harder to write anything for Running to a Stand Still. No amount of ZV pics and sightings, even videos of the two is making this any easier…

Funny enough, it was the Jonas Brother's Turn Right that inspired me to write this new chapter. To those who know me, this is very ironic indeed, but I have to at least give credit where its due. So, thank you, JB…

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes or changes in tenses.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Sometimes the two people most meant for each other are the last two to realize it.

Partings

~.~.~

SPOTTED: A visibly upset Julian Rutherford in a very heated conversation with his very own father in the front steps of St. Patrick's Cathedral, minutes after all hell broke loose in the Montez-Rutherford wedding.

13 August 2009, 3:42 p.m.

~.~.~

He was drunk. Wasted. Hammered. Plastered. Pissed drunk. Buzzed. More intoxicated that he's ever been in his entire life. Not that he made a habit of inebriation, in fact, he'd only picked up a drink or two in times of celebration and it was always in moderation. But yesterday was once in a lifetime event. One that surely he and the rest of people in attendance will never forget - or at least will be gossiped about until another 'scandalous' event occurred. He proposed and declared his undying love to a woman, not just any woman, the woman. The one. His soul mate. His other half. His one true love. Only to be rejected by said woman. After twenty six years of bachelorhood bliss, he finally took a huge step towards marriage and commitment, a huge feat given his fondness for women, only to fall flat on his face.

I can't.

True, he proposed to her at her own wedding. She was already garbed in her wedding gown that fitted her like a glove, looking majestic and elegant. She was already standing next to her soon-to-be husband, the priest in front of them, ready to ask them to recite their vows.

I can't.

True, he barged in the church like a madman, running to the center aisle, proclaiming his love for her for the whole world to hear, oblivious and yet completely aware at the shocked faces of her wedding guests. But he ignored the hundred pairs of eyes staring at him in astonishment. Instead, he headed straight for her, evading the bodyguards trying to stop him. Once he stood in front of her, he kissed her and asked her to marry him. And at that moment, a resounding gasp filled the church and it was obvious that they were on the edge of their seats, awaiting her response.

I can't.

True, his proposal was inappropriate given the time and place. Even he cannot deny that. She was getting married, to someone else, someone that was not him. He tried to stop her wedding. And failed. Who knew that with just two words, she can break his heart in a million pieces.

Whatever after was blur. He couldn't really remember anything. He couldn't remember how he made it out of the church. At one point or another, he found himself at a bar, drinking vodka and gin as if its nothing but water. Hours later, when he deemed it enough that there was a sufficient amount of alcohol in his body to numb him and make him forget everything that has happened, he ended up here, ironically enough, in a place where he ultimately realized his love for her. A week ago he was standing here, at this very spot and he had an epiphany, a realization that he wished to spend the rest of his life with her.

The moon was out, casting an ethereal glow on the area about him. New York lay sleeping, but the city, even at this late hour, was never truly silent. In a distance, he could hear a disembodied cry, the bustling of taxi cabs. New York, at any time and moment, was always bustling with life and yet, right here, right now, everything seemed so silent. So serene.

He plopped in a nearby bench and rehashed the last few hours. He was sure she was married by now. To a man she barely know. A man who did not deserve her. A man who could never appreciate her fully for who she was, quirks and all. Despite the rejection, he cannot help but still love her. Want her. And he knew, she loved him too.

I can't.

Maybe he was just a glutton for punishment and a masochist but he was not ready to give her up without a fight. Maybe it was the alcohol talking and making him delusional, allowing him to misinterpret things but she said, "I can't", not "won't" or even a flat out "No". She said "I can't".

He finally found her and he was willing to do anything to get her back.

Her husband or anyone be damned.

He was coming for Gabriella Montez and nothing and no one is going to stop him.

~.~.~

Confessions… and just plain gibberish: a Blog by Martina Hayden

Bolton dampens Montez-Rutherford nuptials…

… big time. You have to be living under a rock to not know the big spectacle that occurred only hours before in St. Patrick's Cathedral. The nuptials between Julian Rutherford and Gabriella Montez, both from New York's esteemed and oldest families, was dubbed by many as one of the weddings of the season, following a rushed engagement that surprised friends and family alike. And true enough, the Montez-Rutherford wedding definitely became the wedding of the year - but not for the right reasons. Punches were thrown. Mothers were crying. Fathers were engaged on an all out fist fight. Guests were screaming. Some, including the priest, even fainted. The groom was standing there agape, alone in the altar. And the bride was nowhere to be found. It was a scene right out of Julia Robert's Runaway Bride, much to the delight of the various tabloid writers in attendance. Sitting by these keyed up entertainment journalists, you could just see their heads turning at the prospect of the tabloid fodder they were just handed in a silver platter. I can just see the front-page headlines awaiting the general public tomorrow morning and the over-the-top stories that would be concocted. And with the video of Bolton's appearance and ill-timed proposal already uploaded in various sites, pandemonium has surely reached an all time high for these three.

And while many will surely debate, speculate and embellish what exactly happened at today's festivity - others will disparage Bolton for his interruptions while some will swoon at his romantic gesture, the focus lies solely at the bride and groom. Both seemed enthusiastic enough to be there, standing in front of the priest and reciting their wedding vows. But to anyone who is actually looking, it is evident that both participants are not really into the wedding at hand. Robotic is the word that comes to mind when describing Montez' and Rutherford's actions. There is clearly more to the story between these three than meets the eye.

It should also be noted that the bride looked more devastated when Bolton was dragged out of the cathedral by the big, beefy bodyguards than at the prospect of her failed wedding to her very own fiancé. Or is it ex-fiancé? She did slap him before storming out.

Just saying.

Martina used her brains and hit the keys on 13 August 2009, 11:49 p.m.

~.~.~

The hours that followed the wedding were the hardest Gabriella had ever faced. After slapping Julian in the face and hearing none of his excuses, she found herself being jostled into the awaiting limousine by her distraught mother. The next few hours were chaotic and loud, but for her, there was feeling of stillness and tranquility that pervaded her bedroom. Unlike her however, her mother fussed and ran around her apartment like a chicken without its head. And when Maria Montez wasn't fretting, she answered the never ending phone calls that came in every few seconds. At one point, all the cell phones and landlines in her apartment rang at the same time. That was the only moment when Gabriella left the comfort of her bed to disconnect the phone lines and turn off her cell. And when her mother's Blackberry started ringing again seconds later, she grabbed it, pressed the call button and without glancing at who it was, shouted, quite rudely, that they leave her the hell alone. Her mother, getting the hint, cautiously took her cell phone back, turned it off and asked her daughter if she needed anything. In response, Gabriella only went back to the bed and continued to stare blankly at the wall, ignoring everyone and everything around.

"Gabi," Maria softly uttered, watching her daughter as she went back to staring.

"I just wanna be alone," came Gabriella's equally soft reply.

Coming to her side, the fifty-two year old matriarch gave her daughter a kiss and excused herself, promising to come back later. For a brief second, Gabriella felt at peace. But the feeling did not last long. Moments after her mother left, Maria was then replaced by Sharpay and Taylor, who would have surely made her mother proud with their own version of fretting and fussing. Both girls asked a million questions. Questions she definitely had no answers to. They repeatedly asked how she was feeling. They asked if she was fine. They asked if she wanted anything. They asked if she wanted to get dressed in something more comfortable. They asked if she needed to talk to Troy. Or Julian. They asked why she said no. They asked why she was getting married in the first place. When their questions went unanswered, her friends just sat by her side, offering comfort the only way they know how - by just being there.

And now, hours later, she let her head fall back amongst the pillows and closed her eyes as she enjoyed the silence. She felt oddly disconnected from reality and fatigue was starting to kick in. Which was funny since for the last few hours, ever since she left the cathedral, all she had done was sit in her bed and stare off into the wall. She haven't even bothered to change out of her wedding dress or even remove her veil, even though the fabric was beginning to bother her. She didn't want to do anything. And so she laid in bed, looking intently at the ceiling, hoping that the blankness of the space would make her forget. Just when she thought the memories was slowly fading away, Sharpay just had to ask for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay? You can cry, you know? Or scream, if that's more your style."

How was she feeling, Gabriella mused. She knew she felt something. She was feeling something. But she couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly. She wasn't relieved. Although she knew that she should be since Clyde's plan did not follow through and she wasn't married to a man she didn't love. And her family's company was still intact. She wasn't devastated. Although she knew that she should be since she was certain that she had just completely damaged her relationship with Troy, the man she wholeheartedly did love. Nor was she angry or sad. Or happy. She didn't even feel like crying but she felt like she should, like it was only appropriate that she do so. She wanted to cry because it undoubtedly would be better than what she was doing now - which was absolutely nothing. So, there she laid and mused. She certainly was feeling something. She just didn't know what it was.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Taylor asked this time, laying a comforting hand on her lap.

Gabriella nodded. And smiled. It seemed easier than actually opening her mouth and giving a verbal response. She can do smiles and laughter. She's had tons of practiced; no one even noticed, bar a select few, that the light and twinkle never reached her eyes. The last two months of pretending was a huge practice run for the life she should have had with Julian, had the wedding went through. So, Gabriella can smile like nothing was wrong. She can pretend to be happy like her life was a dream come true. She can pretend to be fine even when deep inside, there was a void - an ache and longing that was swiftly consuming her.

Sporting a similar expression as their friend, Sharpay cautiously stated the obvious, "You don't look fine."

"I'm just tired," was her only explanation. It was true enough, she supposed. And it was an answer that she knew that both Sharpay and Taylor could accept.

"Do you need anything?", her blond friend repeated, trying to fill in the silence.

Gabriella smiled. And this time, it was genuine and real. "Thank you for taking care of me. For being here. But I'm fine. I'm okay," she grinned and touched both their hands, giving it a squeeze in assurance, "… at least I'm gonna be."

Taylor, afraid to say anything that might upset her friend, refrained from actually pointing out that she wasn't fine. Taylor knew it. Sharpay knew it. And she knew that Gabriella definitely knew it. But she couldn't say it out loud. She couldn't voice her concerns. So she settled for the question that she, along with Sharpay, had asked throughout the entire night. "Are you sure you don't need anything? You name it, and we'll get it."

"Sleep."

"Of course." Standing up, they took their bags and headed out the door. "We'll just be outside so just holler. We can sleep in the living room. It's gonna be like college again."

"Your couch is very comfy," piped Sharpay, trying to sound enthused.

Gabriella sighed and mirrored her friend's actions. "I'm gonna be okay by myself, you guys." To further her point, she beamed at them and added, "Really," as if that single word could single-handedly eliminate all their worries.

Taylor and Sharpay looked at each other apprehensively, not believing a single word their friend had said. Seeing the expressions on their faces, Gabriella ushered them out of her bedroom and restated, putting as much enthusiasm in her voice without sounding too fake, "Seriously, I am going to be fine. I just need to be alone. And I really, really need sleep."

Unconvinced that her friend was indeed okay but understanding that she did need some time for herself, Taylor conceded - albeit reluctantly, "Fine. But call us if you need anything. And I mean anything, okay, Gabi?"

Said friend nodded. And smiled. Again.

With one last uneasy look at her, both Taylor and Sharpay quietly left.

Gabriella's smile slowly faded, turning into a slight frown once the door fully closed. Gone were her mother's and friend's insistent worrying. Gone were the endless questions. Gone were the phone's ringing. The quiet inside her apartment seemed to echo against her eardrums. And that was when she realized what she was actually feeling. She felt lost. And she felt alone.

And that thought scared her.

~.~.~

SPOTTED: Julian Rutherford, entering his once set-to-be wife's apartment building in the wee hours of the morning, the day after their disastrous and now infamous wedding. He was then seen escorting Gabriella Montez, funny enough, into Troy Bolton's penthouse, hours later.

14 August 2009, 8:19 a.m.

~.~.~

In the twenty-some years she'd known him, she had never actually watched him sleep. It had always been a desire of hers, a silly fantasy of sorts. It was funny, she thought, that after all the nights they spent sleeping over at each other's houses while growing up, she never had the luxury. She never got the chance. And now, she sat opposite him in one of his lounge chairs. He was sleeping on the couch, still wearing the same clothes he wore when he crashed her wedding and he looked so peaceful, lying there. Lifting her hand, she couldn't resist as she tentatively touched his cheek. She had the sudden urge to touch him, to assure herself that he was real. He stirred for a second. And her heart stopped beating. But he only sighed and remained asleep. Staring at his face, she realized that she could watch him all day and never get bored. "I hurt you," she solemnly whispered, afraid of breaking the silence and waking him.

From his position in the couch, Troy felt a pull. He felt like someone or something was tugging, a presence that even in his deep sleep cajoled him into the light. Moments later, he slowly awakened. Opening his blue eyes, he moved in his make-shift bed, unaware that Gabriella sat frozen in front of him. He shifted his head and looked up. Blue eyes met brown. He blinked and sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

He didn't even seem surprised. Nor taken aback by her presence. "I'm sorry if I woke you," she began and continued on with her apologies.

He avoided looking at her when he gently answered, "You didn't. Want some coffee?", as if yesterday didn't happen. He intended to go to the kitchen but her next words stopped him.

Gabriella hugged her arms to her body. "Don't do that. Don't be nice to me. Scream. Cuss me out. Get angry. Call me a liar. A bitch," she said in easy succession, "Call me anything but please, don't be nice to me. Because I don't deserve it."

Troy searched her face, saw the guilt and pain in her eyes. His piercing gaze was dark, and his once gentle blue eyes burned with anguish when he glanced at her. "You don't deserve it."

"I'm sorry."

He continued, ignoring her. "But I'm not gonna get angry now. Don't get me wrong. I was angry. Furious even. It hurt to realize that you thought our love wasn't worth fighting for. That you could very easily just throw it away, just like that. And even when I realized what Clyde was doing, that anger, the hurt, it didn't go away."

"I'm sor -"

"Stop apologizing. You're always apologizing," he interrupted, shaking his head at her. "We both know, if you had to do things all over again, you'll do the exact same thing. You'll say yes. It's who you are. You're always thinking of others before your own happiness." He chuckled bitterly while giving her a level stare. "It's one trait of yours that I find very admirable. But damn Gabriella, I deserved more than just being tossed aside like a piece of trash. I. Deserved. More."

She flinched at the harsh tone of his voice. Troy rarely yelled. And at the few times he had, it was never directed at her. Never at her.

For the longest time, neither spoke. She had the overwhelming urge to apologize again. To tell him the whole truth, her true feelings and apologize some more. But the scowl on his face told her that another "I'm sorry" would certainly push him over the edge, if he wasn't already there.

With trembling hands, Gabriella reached behind her neck. Seconds later, she unclasped the necklace that adorned her neck and laid it on the table. Unable to help himself, Troy appeased his curiousity and leaned forward. He paused and looked up at her, genuine surprise etched in his face. "Is that…"

"… your grandmother's ring you thought you lost at New Haven? Yeah. Our caretaker found it somewhere when she was doing her spring cleaning at grandma's house. You still remember her, Marcie? She used to make us chocolate cupcakes when you stayed that summer."

"Yeah, I remember," looking down again at the simple silver band attached to a long chain laying innocently on the table. Memories of the last time he had it flooded in his mind in rapid succession. "That asshole broke up with you over the phone and I ended up spending the rest of the summer with you and your grandparents."

"Well, Marcie dropped it off…" Gabriella swallowed and mustered all her courage to continue. "… I've had it for years now actually."

It was the ring his great, great, great grandfather, a renowned womanizer who ran the opposite way at the mere mention of love, had given his wife on their wedding day. It was simple, free of any expensive gems or stones. It was neither extravagant nor flashy. To others, it would seem cheap and too plain - especially for a wedding ring and for someone in their social status. But it was the message engraved that made the ring one of the most precious and valuable jewelry in his family, one that has been passed down from generation to generation. It was a ring that epitomized that love did exist, even in their money-minded world and his great, great, great grandfather's words have always rang true for the men in his family.

You gave me a reason to stop running. To stand still, live and love.

"Why'd you keep it?," he asked, still looking reflectively at the ring.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I knew how much the ring meant to you, it's a family heirloom. And I had every intent on giving it back to you. I was gonna give it back to you, I swear. Its just… I couldn't bring myself to part with it. It was the one tangible reminder of that summer. Looking at it, having that ring, made it all the more real. That summer, more specifically that night, was when I realized that you weren't just Troy Bolton, my best friend."

Troy met her hesitant stare with cool detachment. But deep inside, he was intrigued to hear what she would say next.

"You were comforting me after my breakup with him. And just when I was about to fall asleep , you whispered that Chris never really deserved me. Then you gave me a kiss on the forehead and pulled me closer," she smiled, recalling the feel of his lips on her skin. "You stayed with me the whole night. And the many nights after that. And in that single moment, I realized that I was falling in love you. Back then, I naively thought that my feelings would go away. That it was just some childish crush that will slowly fade in time. But it didn't."

Troy thought of the first time he came to a realization that she was more than just his childhood best friend. He could still see it in his mind, remembering the moment where he first felt that flutter. He was only eighteen then and foolishly, he thought that what he was feeling was merely lust. Having her body so close to his, feeling every curve, especially during that stage in his teenage years, he mistook his fast beating heart, that tingling feeling for mere physical attraction. But looking back on it now, that summer before they left for college, he was already falling madly in love with her - he was just too scared to admit it to himself, let alone to Gabriella. And maybe that was the crux of the matter. As silly teenagers, they were too scared to act on their feelings; believing that it was an attraction that would gradually fade. As adults, they were still scared. But not for the same reasons. In time, their feelings didn't wither. Quite the opposite, in fact. It only grew. Intensified. Even without acting on their feelings, their love, unbeknownst to each other, only deepened. And that was the scary part. And maybe that's why they ran at the opposite direction when their relationship turned into something more than just platonic.

He had always been skeptical that it would work. That risking their lifelong friendship was not worth the risk. It was a cliché, sure, falling in love with one's best friend. He'd heard stories, watched numerous romantic movies - with all of them ending happily ever after for the best friends-turned-couple. And countless times, he'd wished that his happily ever after would be with her. Even now, despite the fact that he'd been to hell and back, it was still her. Always her.

"And that afternoon, when you told me you loved me for the very first time…" she paused and tried to calm her breathing. Every now and down, she would wipe away the tears that streamed down her face. "I dreamt of that moment since I was seventeen years old. And I don't know when it exactly turned into this intense feeling. I don't when it started but all I now is, one day I looked at you and realized I was staring into my future. I understand that there is a strong possibility that you might not want to be with me. I didn't make this any easier for the two of us. I understand if you just wanna cut your losses and move on. You said so yourself, you deserve more." She gave him a rueful smile, "And why would you want to still be with me right? I mean, even I wouldn't want to be with someone like me either after everything that happened. So if you want me to let you go, I will. Just say the word. Because I'm in this for the long haul and I don't think I can let you go. You're the one who has to end it because I can't. So until you decide, I'll be waiting."

Taking his hands, she dropped the necklace into his palm. "I may have lied for the past month but that morning in the park… that was all real."

With one last look at him and a gentle kiss, one that she hoped wasn't their last, she stood up and walked towards the door. "You know where to find me."

It hurt, the prospect of actually letting him go, if he did desire it. It hurt, the mere thought of not having him in her life anymore. She told herself that he needed time and that it was the least she could do. That giving him the final choice was the only way they can move forward. She didn't dare hope that he would immediately take her back. After everything that happened, she knew that it required more than just apologies and tears before everything between them could be better. Before everything could be fully okay. But she would be lying if she said that she didn't hoped that he would call her back or even stop her from walking out of his apartment.

He didn't.

Truthfully, that hurt the most.

~.~.~

New York Times, Business: Rumored fall-out between father and son, company's future in jeopardy

New York, 19 August 2009 - There has been some rumblings for days now about an ongoing fight between Julian Rutherford and his father, Clyde Harrison. It is best remembered that Julian was recently set to marry Gabriella Montez, only to have the wedding called off when Troy Bolton, CEO of Bolton Inc. barged in and ultimately stopped the wedding. After the commotion subsided, Clyde insisted that a wedding will still take place in the very near future while his son insisted otherwise. What followed was a series of public spats between the two. Rumors of bribery and blackmail surfaced, painting Clyde in a negative light and inevitably hurting Harrison Steel Corporation's stocks in the financial market, as he supposedly blackmailed Gabriella Montez into marrying his youngest son in exchange for the Montez Pharmaceutical Corp's financial future. Clyde Harrison holds a significant percentage of shares in the Montez' company. And with his sizable control in the Montez Pharmaceutical Corp, if he so wishes, Clyde can pocket Nicholas Montez' company by aggressively buying key shares of stock. Gabriella and her family has declined to comment and Clyde himself denied such reports, claiming it as 'atrocious… and a business ploy by competitors" to bring his company down. Currently, the Harrison Steel Corporation is one of the largest fully integrated steel producers in the United States and the world, with almost 250,000 employees worldwide and ranking 25th in the Fortune Global 500.

An investigation about these allegations is currently underway.

Update: Clyde Harrison has officially resigned as the president of Harrison Steel Corporation. No word yet on whether or not his youngest son will take over.

… also, I have to give a big, scratch that, HUGE special thank you to Arlyn over at ZF for quietly 'pressuring' me into actually writing anything for RSS. This is for you, girl.

I'm not exactly happy with this chapter but when am I ever? But I figured, I needed to post something seeing as the PMs I've gotten have gotten harsher/angrier/desperate in their content. I bet you were expecting some TG reconciliation, didn't ya? Sorry, but next and last chapter is entitled Proposal so that should you tell you something. An epilogue is likely but not a guarantee at this point. And I know there seems to be gaps in this chapter, questions that should have been answered but I wanted to concentrate solely on Troy and Gabriella, without adding Clyde and Julian in the mix - at least not too heavily . All will obviously be answered with the next one.

And to anyone, if anyone is still reading this, thank you for the reviews. I contemplated writing to each and everyone of those readers who left a review but it would take time that I do not have so in advance, sorry. Just know that every single review, and I mean every single one, means the world to me.

Also, I've gotten a few PM's about my Zanessa one-shots. Since VABN's MIM site is still down, I uploaded my stories in my LJ page (link can be found in my bio) and it has always been posted in ZF. It's also posted in Into The Lines, an HSM fanfic community over in LJ (link also in my bio).

Reviews are much appreciated.

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Thought I was done with my long ass author's note right? Not so quite. I decided to post a little sneak peak of the last chapter as a very late birthday present to Arlyn.

Excerpt from Proposal:

His left hand came to her forehead, gently brushing away one of her bangs that managed to escape from her now messy bun. His other caressed her cheek to wipe away the tear she didn't even know was there.

"You asked me before if maybe we weren't meant to be together. That loving someone was never suppose to be this hard or to hurt this much…"

She glanced past him, avoiding his gaze and looking at anything but him. She braced herself for the inevitable pain. For the next few words that she knew would break her heart all over again.

"… maybe you were right," he finished.

A moment passed. His words quickly sunk in. But there were no tears. There was no heartache. No burning pain in her chest. No fervent need to cry or do anything that most heartbroken women do. She almost felt calm. Odd, she thought to herself. Then her cinnamon brown eyes met his. His eyes were gentle. Warm. And the pain she'd somehow managed to hold at bay welled. She wanted him in her life. She needed to have him in her life. He was the one. And what they had deserved something better that just her giving up and letting him go without a fight.

She opened her mouth to argue, to say anything to convince him that their love was worth fighting for.

"Gabri-", pressing one finger into his lips, she more or less screamed, "Stop", to halt whatever he was just about to say.

He blinked, wariness creeping in.

She drew a deep breath. In the back of her head, she wondered why she never planned for this. Why she never had a speech prepared, a plan - any plan on how to get him back. She was the organized one. She made lists. She had her entire life planned out to the minute. But when it came to him, everything just turned upside down.

Facing him squarely, she began. "If I could take back the last couple of months, I would. I would have handled the whole Clyde situation better. I would have handled our situation a whole lot better. But I can't take it back. I can't erase the past. But I can change our future. And yes, I did say that love was never suppose to be hard or painful. But I've come to figure out that if our love story was easy, it would just be plain boring." She ruefully laughed, "And we can't have that right?"

"If our love story was pain-free, well, that's just a load of bullshit and make-believe, right? Because I will make more mistakes in the future that will hurt you and vice-versa. I'm not perfect. And neither are you. But I don't want anyone else. I don't want a perfect man. I don't want a fairy tale, drama-free relationship."

"Gab -"

"No, let me finish." She paused, hesitating. "There are a million things in this world that I want, a million things that I can have with just a snap of my fingers," she uttered in a rush, "but all I ever needed was you. Just you."

Like I said, reviews are very much appreciated.