Chapter playlist: Shiver-Coldplay

July 4th, Summer 2007-

"Is it true that you might sing with Troy Bolton himself?"

"Are you enjoying California? Or would you rather be back in Chicago?"

"Are you really pregnant with Troy's baby?"

"I saw him kissing Nikki Blonsky, and then kissing you. What's up with that?"

"Are you guys going steady? If he's not treating you right, I will."

I pushed my way passed the Paparazzi that had newly and bizarrely arrived at Troy's doorstep. I was trying my hardest to be nice but every question was nothing but a rumor!

"I might sing with him. I like California much more than Chicago. I'm not pregnant and I won't be until I'm at least twenty five. What went on with Troy and Nikki has nothing to do with me. We aren't an item." I told them, attempting to unlock the front door. Bright lights attacked me, videos aimed at me from all angles.

I arrived at the Hairspray premiere to support Troy yesterday. Ever since, it's as if they're actually interested in my life. And finally, my CD was out. Things were looking up. But I couldn't help but feel a lot of pressure underneath so many stares. I wasn't used to being surrounded by strangers, nor was I used to having my photo taken. I never thought I was photogenic. I usually hated getting my picture taken.

"I'm sure there's plenty of guys who would love to keep you company." One of them exclaimed as I finally undid the lock. Isn't this private property? Were they even allowed to be this close to Troy Bolton's layer?

"Thanks, but I've got it covered. Bye." I didn't want to be rude but I found myself slamming the door in their faces, a few of them groaning in agitation as I did this.

I let out a breath of air, backing against the door, sliding to my knees. It all seemed a bit overwhelming. Troy really was something. I showed up at one of his premieres, suddenly my face is known to the paparazzi? It seemed unreal. He really did have a magnifying glass to him 24-7. They watched him like a hawk. Had he ever slipped up and done something moronic, he'd be sure to pay for it.

I remembered the awkwardness of the premiere. He was associating with the directors, producers, and the other actors and actresses of the movie. I felt kind of idiotic for coming but he invited me. He told me it would be contributing to his fame. I'm not sure how, I mean, I wasn't exactly the sexiest woman alive at the moment. I was just beginning. I actually believed I'd be one of those singers that never get known for what they've done. You know the one's that make tons of CD's but nobody really cares enough to buy them? I had a feeling I'd be all washed up like that. It's like the singers from Nsync. After Justin Timberlake left, did you notice how nobody really cared about them anymore and how they just kind of gave up on music? That'd be me in a month.

I hated how famous Troy was. He walked in, his thousand dollar suit and everything, looking as stunning as ever, and suddenly girls were screaming. It wasn't just normal screaming either. It was that enthusiastic, "Oh my God, it's really him, he's so hot" type of screaming. And he acted so cool about it, like it was hardly a big deal, like he was practically flattered by the idea that he had his own fan club. They held up pictures of him, with that dark gelled up do he had on his movie. One actually had a picture of him winking. Yeah, they had his wink.

He'd walk by them and they'd reach out, eager to touch him. His bodyguards would practically have to shove people off of him. The girls were mostly aged from about twelve to about twenty-nine. It seemed ridiculous. He just smoothly proceeded passed them, his hair still a light golden brown from the highlights he received. He had gone more Hollywood than previously reported. You could tell. Suddenly the brands of Diesel, Ralph Lauren, Burberry and Gucci became his demeanor. And suddenly the innocence in his smile reeked more confidence than usual. Yeah, he understood how hot he was. He knew he could lure people in now. He knew he could get anyone he wanted.

The premiere was on live television for heaven's sakes! And I could see the guy interviewing him from the place I was standing. One of my newest stylists dabbed me in the latest, trendiest dress. I have no idea what the designer's name was, actually. I couldn't pronounce it even if I tried. And my makeup artist made me over like a star in the spotlight. It felt good to walk in with self-assurance, but once my eyes laid on Troy, John Travolta, Nikki Blonsky, Amanda Bynes and Queen Latifah . . . I realized how I really didn't fit in.

Nobody recognized me. Everybody else seemed to be getting their fair share of photographs and smiles, but I wasn't even spoken to. Troy's costar, Ashley, from High School Musical was standing in front of me, looking glamorous as ever. I could hear her telling someone about how she was 'supporting him'. They then questioned her about the 'Trikki' kiss. I think I about hurled. What was that? They had their own pet name . . . already? Ashley only laughed buoyantly and said it wasn't a big deal. He looked hot, and he was Troy Bolton. Oh, and that she kissed him at one time too.

I was beginning to really enjoy myself, that's for sure.

Troy found it absolutely hilarious. I mean, I never thought kissing could be that funny. But when he was asked about it, he just laughed, said he loved her as a sister, it was kind of weird, but it just happened. Of course, the guy tried to convince Troy that Nikki had feelings for him. (She looked deeply involved in the kiss, while he was just sharing tongue like an animal sipping up water from a river. Sorry, that's what it reminded me of.) It just didn't look right. She seemed passionate about him. And when she was asked about the kiss, she just went on and on about how beautiful he was and how he left his mouth open so she just went in for it.

No, I didn't have my name written on him. And no, we weren't committed. But within the moments of dealing with the millions of girls yelping out for him and the constant conversation of a girls' tongue in his mouth, I just couldn't shake the thoughts of my feelings for him being a bit pointless.

I left extra early. Troy seemed too preoccupied to notice I even left. Yes, that hurt a little bit, but I was already having doubts about him in general.

The next day, Taylor and I went out to Santa Monica to hang out for a little while. Since I had been spending the majority of my time with Johnny, I hadn't had much time to spend with my best friend. It was good to catch up with her. She told me about how she and Chad were - excellent as usual, and how she never wanted to leave California. I told her the same. And we conversed about Troy and Nikki's kiss, of course. She told me that he's a bit slow sometimes and does things he doesn't want to, that he's a guy and he's going to make mistakes. She told me if I really felt so strongly about him, I should forgive him. She knew I wanted this. She knew he did too. However, I felt the need to hover him from the rest of the world. I wanted him to be mine. That sounded selfish, I know. I just knew that I couldn't take this without some comfort. Taylor said it'd only be a matter of time. I didn't believe her. I never believed her though. I was always so insecure about Troy and his feelings towards me. Yes, I could see a fiery passion at times. But at others, he just seemed unusually calm about everything, like he just didn't worry or care. That easygoing attitude of his seemed to be more prominent now then ever.

And I was getting jealous of everything. I wasn't just jealous of Nikki, that she shared saliva with him (even if it wasn't even half as passionate as the saliva him and I share), I was jealous of the people that he smiled at, the fans that he hugged or put his arm around to make them happy. I couldn't stand my compulsion for him. I was practically envious of everything in life that met with him. I was jealous of the sun that beamed down on him and made him look breathtaking. I was jealous of the wind that had the ability to dance in his hair. I was jealous of him, that he could have him all to himself. (And yes, he could put his hands anywhere he wanted to - that drove me mad.) I was in love with him, deeply, and inevitably. I loved him more than the life I led, the palm trees that swayed in the wind. He was lovelier than the night's stars and the ocean's salty taste. To me, he was more than the world's greatest things gathered into one. He was a walking miracle and I couldn't seem to rest my mind about him.

He promised me that night, on the fourth, a late picnic in his backyard. I hadn't seen him since the premiere, but that wouldn't stop me from anything. Despite how much I hated his popularity and how much I seemed bitter about his female friends, I felt his presence was a necessity in my life now. I mean, wow.

So there I was, propped on a blanket, sitting Indian style on the ground. It seemed a bit chilly. I didn't wear heavy clothes so I was a bit cold. At night, California could get down to sixty or fifty degrees. With the wind having a slight stir, I knew I wouldn't make it without a jacket. But I ignored my own wants and fixated my eyes on the beautiful human being sitting next to me. My god . . .

Earlier, he was doing a bunch of other business to promote Hairspray. I guessed he didn't have the opportunity to change. He wore a pair of khaki, yet fitting pants, a white collared shirt with a red tie. There were a few barely noticeable stripes in the tie. He wore a light dark jacket over the collared shirt. His hair budged a bit from the California breeze. He had one leg propped up, the other lazily on the ground.

"So," He said, a small smile accompanying his lips, "how has your Troy-less life been, lately?"

I chuckled at him, moving my eyes to the grass. It seemed so dangerously green, so alive, unlike Chicago's grass which was usually dead or mowed to its eradication. "It's been hard. But you know what the hardest part was?" I asked, playfully smiling at him.

He gave me a look of curiosity, "What's that?"

"I keep hearing about how wonderful you are, how sexy you are. All these girls are like attacking you. And it seems to me all your costars want you too." I gave him a jesting smirk.

He rolled his eyes, his smile still visible, "Oh, we're just getting started."

I couldn't help but make a face at him.

"Ahhh, Gabriella, come on," He moved towards me, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me closer, "Those girls have nothing on you." The sincerity in his words made me speechless.

I felt myself shiver in response to him being close to me. I could feel him - he was warm, so warm, but I was freezing.

"Are you cold?" He asked, his voice having a sweet tenderness to it.

"I'm okay." I assured him, moving my eyes away as I felt an aloof wind pickup. Goosebumps appeared across my arms.

"I've got you covered." He gave me an adorable wink before beginning to slide his jacket off.

I rejected, "No, because then you'll be cold."

"I have much more clothing on then you do. Plus, I'm a guy. I won't sit here and watch you freeze to death. That'd be rude." He told me, removing the jacket from his muscular arms and wrapping it around my shoulders.

I placed my arms into it and could tell the size difference between us. I felt a sudden ease of mind from it though, as it covered up my rather skimpy summer dress that went up above my knees. The jacket smelled like him. I found myself breathing in more than usual.

"Are you still cold?" He gave me devoted blue eyes. I turned into just bits and pieces at the mere glance of them.

"I'm still a little cold." I looked to him with inviting eyes.

He bit his bottom lip a tad, and than as if he realized what I meant, he put on a pretend look of defeat, "Alright, alright, come here."

Unable to resist the beauty of his voice, I moved closer to him, now snuggling my head against his shoulder blade. I felt his lips kiss my head, affectionately. He saturated me with joy and I felt immense heat from the intimacy between us.

I rested my head on his shoulder, pensively looking at the sky placed in front of us. I could feel him glancing at me, a smile of adoration moving across his lips. I could feel my heart burnishing with lust.

I caught sight of a join of three fireworks, bolting into the sky. They rumble and crack altogether. They collapsed at the top of the sky, falling to the ground. I watched them.

"There's something . . . I wanna . . . talk to you about." Troy suddenly said from beside me, his eyes captivated from the fireworks.

I felt a sudden worry fulfill me as I allowed my eyes to bounce back to him. He turned to face me, his eyebrows furrowing, running one hand through his hair.

"Y-you found another girl? You want . . . to be with her?" I couldn't control my voice as I suddenly became petrified of the thought. A hollow, empty feeling seemed to shake my insides. I felt I was going to be sick.

His eyes widened, "No! Gabriella, definitely not that . . ." His head shook furiously as he slid his mouth towards the nook of my neck. I felt him kiss it, reassuring the rest of me that wasn't the case. He looked back to my eyes, as if he couldn't look at anything else. I believed him. He sighed, now rubbing his arm, breaking the grip from my waist.

Another dart of fireworks flew into the sky, both of us snapping our eyes back to it.

"I know this is all sort of weird and everything because of my career, but I honestly don't wanna think about that right now. That doesn't matter that much to me." He said lowly, his eyes not meeting mine. "What matters right now is . . . you and me." The words emitted from his lips - his voice alone just allured me further to him. I felt his eyes on me. "And you know what, I don't care . . . I don't care about what happened in the past or what could happen in the future, because I'm not into that whole plan-it-out-and-ruin-it thing . . ."

"Troy, what are you saying?" I inquired, half-smiling. He seemed to be just throwing words around.

"I'm saying . . . I could have every dime in the word, I could be in Transformers or something cool like that, I mean . . . I could actually stand next to Paula Abdul, which is amazing because wow," I gave him a strange look as he spaced out completely. His eyes bounced back, "I could do anything . . . but still, I can't fight away my thoughts about you, Gabriella. Do you honestly believe I don't ever think about you? Because, Gabriella, there's never a time when I'm not. That actually drives me crazy half the time. Remember when I spilled that salt all over those French fries? Or well, why am I even saying all of this? You have like a list of my most embarrassing moments. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Yes, but Troy, you are really going out on a rim here. I mean, I'm flattered, but I don't really know what I stand as in your life . . . your cousin's best friend? Yeah, someone who's just around for the summer? Yeah . . . it's good to know that you feel that way, but Troy . . . I just don't know if I can stand traveling on a road that leads into a dead end."

"Every day . . ." He interrupted me, his eyes now deep into mine, "I wanna be with you every day. And I want the world to know too, I want them to know how crazy I am about you, and how beautiful you are . . . at every angle." His hand brushed against my cheek, causing it to sting with ecstasy.

More fireworks erupted into the sky, dancing across it like waves in an ocean.

He fumbled through his pockets, as if searching for something. I watched him, unsure of how to react to all of this. I felt wonder at his words, and my heart raced exotically.

He gently yanked out a small box, and I mean a very small box. It seemed delicate though. I watched him as he fumbled with it, as if to open it. His hands shook crazily. He could barely open it.

I found myself grabbing his hand, "Troy."

His eyes shifted to me and the look that he gave me . . . I could have cried. It seemed more real than anything I've ever see in my life. It seemed so genuine, so sincere. It regulated my entire body into a sudden stillness. The only thing that moved erratically was my heart, which continued pounding quickly.

"Sorry . . . I just, I've never done this before." He said quietly, his eyes averting from my own.

"I wanna see it . . . please, open it." I glanced towards the box, inquisitive to what may lay inside.

He breathed in sharply, attempting to remove the cover of the box again. His fingers still trembled at the touch of it and I could see his face twisting in pain. I moved my hand onto his, "its okay, I can probably open it." I told him, looking to him for permission.

"Alright . . ." He looked annoyed at himself as he ran another hand through his hair. He watched me as I began to move the lid away from the box. My hands didn't shake. I was just eager to open it.

Small pieces of thin paper outstretched the tiny box and I moved them away, wanting to find this item he was so ridiculously nervous about. My heart seemed to stop its pace as I encountered the item finally. There were two rings.

"It's not . . . what you think. I just, I feel like I owe you at least something . . . to prove to you that if you let me . . . I could be . . . I mean, I could . . ." He sighed as if he couldn't muster up the words, more flashes of fireworks projecting into the sky. "We could be . . . you and me, just us, together." The final word came off his tongue as if I had just caught a bolt of lightning. It seemed so beautiful and innocent I felt my heart jumping, my mind focused on nothing but him.

I pulled out the two rings. One obviously was made for the man, the other made for the woman. I noticed there was something bolded into the ring's crevasse.

Kuuipo.

"Oh, and that's Hawaiian . . . I know, kind of cheesy, yeah, I just . . . I've been there a few times, and I can't get away from it. I mean, and plus, I have these two plane tickets to Hawaii . . . I just have no idea what I'm going to do with them though."

I still had the ring in my hands, my eyes now rising to Troy, who still looked a bit uneasy. I couldn't even speak. I became tongue-tied. Of course, of course I wanted to. Of course I wanted to be together. Yes, yes, yes.

I had to force myself not to cry again.

"I mean, think about it . . . no crazy fan girls, no crazy fan guys, no paparazzi, just us, you and me, Gabriella."

"You are crazy, Troy Bolton," I told him, laughing lightly as I looked to him with emotionally amazed eyes, "I accept. I really do. I gladly accept."

The priceless, look of pleasure on his lips . . . the way he practically sighed in relief. I could replay that memory over and over.

Present Day-

"Kuuipo?" Chad looked to me, skeptically.

"It means sweetheart . . . I know." I whispered, looking to my feet. I sniffed my nose, my emotions getting the best of me.

I felt Chad place a hand to my own. I was breaking into pieces of nothing. The void inside of me seemed larger than before and I erupted into a fit of sobs, unable to control the grief that spilled inside of me. "I miss him so much, Chad. I can't believe I let him go . . . I can't believe it."

He stood up from his seat and I felt his comforting arms fold around me, pulling me into a consoling embrace. I felt weak, my tears falling on Troy Bolton's cousin's shoulder. I felt pitiful.

"Gabs . . . please, I know, I know. You're like a sister to me; I can't stand seeing you like this." He whispered.

I moved myself out of his embrace, feeling the stains of mascara in my eyes. I tried to push them away, now facing one of my best friends, eye to eye. "I'm sorry, Chad. I hate putting this all on you."

"Don't apologize, don't ever . . . you love him. Don't be sorry about it. You just need time, a lot of time."

Time? I didn't need time! I needed Troy. He was my oxygen.

"I need Troy. That's all I need." I whispered, biting my bottom lip as I felt a few more tears roll down my face.

END OF CHAPTER

Fact: 'Zanessa' have a ring, says kuuipo. It's supposedly a 'promise ring', but they both have one for sure. Other facts, Hairspray premiere . . . Ashley being questioned, Nikki being questioned, interviewer guy . . . all reality! Hey, you learn something new everyday. (Unless you're like me and you're a very dedicated fan. . . not really, I JUST looked up the rings today :P, however, can't say I haven't been curious.) REVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEW. Love, Whitney.