Disclaimer: I've never been in the building for The LA Times, but I took a virtual tour. If something is mistaken, please blame it on not being rich and famous and who can't throw down tickets to LA for fanfiction (no matter how much I want to stalk Zac Efron).
A/N: The song for this is "California Gurls", which is completely opposite of the serious tone this story has carried, but it seemed to fit for writing it. Thanks for reading!
"Okay, it would be so simple. Chad and Taylor could sleep on the couch. No need to waste money. Seriously, you and Sharpay can just take my bed and I'll sleep with a bunch of blankets." Gabriella swiveled around in her black computer chair with the sunlight shimmering through her black tresses and her pump dangling off the black paint of her toenail, "Problem solved."
"Gabriella," the gruff voice on the other side of the line made her smile stretch further upon her face, "if you bring up the hotel one more time, I'm going to fucking rip my ticket to shreds. We're not staying in your apartment, so shut up about it. You're annoying me."
She giggled and glanced up to take sight of the planted palm trees bordering along the sidewalk from below. The room was stuffy – thanks to the scalding summer heat that hung through the windows, even through the air-conditioned building. Her cotton cardigan was already stripped and dangled off the edge of her seat and threatened to fall every time she spun around her large cubicle. Yet, a bead of sweat continued to hug her black brow, especially where her newly styled bangs landed just above her caramel eye. She wedged the corded telephone beneath her shoulder and fanned herself with a scrap piece of paper, almost knocking the expensive keyboard in the process.
"I just think it's stupid." Gabriella responded, glancing at the collage of pictures that adored the creamy paint of the faux wall – one overly-eager brunette specifically, "I won't let you guys waste your money on a hotel when I have perfectly good space. It's your vacation."
"Trust me, babe, you're gonna want your privacy." He chuckled, Gabriella imagining the lines around his eyes webbing out with pure glee.
"Please," her hand waved in dismissal, almost smacking the sleek monitor that sat on the desk before her, "I've had privacy from you guys for three and a half months. I don't want you to leave me again." Biting her lip to be sure that the other reporters didn't notice her momentary weakness, Gabriella tried to ignore the desperation in her voice.
She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair, and fumbled to be sure that she didn't drop the phone. Fourteen weeks had passed since she stumbled through JFK airport and onto her flight. The first week, of course, had been the absolute hardest. She had spent half of the flight settled on the toilet seat in the lavatory, balling her eyes raw, until the stewardess knocked on the door to make sure she didn't drown herself or fall out the back of the airplane. Jeremy had been waiting at the baggage claim when she arrived – she was internally grateful for him not mentioning her eyes were permanently stained red. Instead, he gathered the suitcase – the rest of her belongings had been shipped out two days prior- and personally drove her to her new apartment in the luxury of his shiny Mercedes. He had even stopped by after work the next day to make sure she was beginning to settle. In pure Gabriella fashion, she didn't empty out the boxes for three weeks and kept the infamous couch in the moving van until the company called to inform her if she didn't remove the furniture, they were donating it to Goodwill. Gabriella quickly ordered them to bring it up, empathizing with their strained backs as they did so.
Closing her eyes, she felt guilty for knowing how easy it had been for her to ease into the California scene once again. She spent about two weeks in the "fetch-my-coffee-bitch" stage, though she was fairly certain that Jeremy only did it to be sure that none of the other reporters talked poorly behind her back when she was new in town. Of course, due to the size and status of the paper, she wasn't writing actual articles in the actual print yet; instead Jeremy had given her the opportunity to write for the electronic version, which was just as good, in her opinion. She had befriended her neighbors – the floor she lived on wasn't quite as squeezed together as the one back in New York was, therefore she had more room to maneuver. Despite the busyness within the city, her little corner wasn't quite as hectic and intimidating. And she adored it, along with most other things in her new life.
"The hotel is booked, Montez." She could hear the smile in his voice, even a million miles away, "deal with it."
"I miss you, Jase. You need to come sooner." Gabriella confessed, coiling the fingers around the cord of the phone before unconsciously picking up the Hello Kitty pen that rested idly on her desk.
"Awe, babe," he cooed smugly, giving Gabriella the urge to hit something, "I miss you too. But Barbie had some dress thing today, so we can't fly out until tomorrow morning. She's fucking psycho."
Gabriella giggled, "Sharpay's got a bad case of Bridezilla?"
"Try Bridezilla on steroids and a penis pump. I don't know how Baylor can stand it. Even Bolton went off at her last week when she wanted to use his basketball as a facial scrub or something."
Gabriella's stomach flipped -the sound of his name slashed against her heart. She stuttered, glancing left to right, and hunched lower in her cubical to breathe in the imaginary scent of him that still lingered in her memory after all these months, "Sounds terrible." Gabriella mumbled.
Instinctively, Gabriella reached for the mouse and began to click away in a familiar pattern, momentarily forgetting her conversation with Jason on the telephone. She opened her inbox and pushed her middle finger down to spin the dial that reached the most recent email sent from the address she desired. Swallowing thickly, she quickly began to scan the bulky three paragraphs that composed of the email. Her heart staggered every couple sentences.
"Gabriella? Hello? Earth to Gabriella? "
Gabriella blinked. Reality, once again, crashed upon her shoulders and she was reintroduced to her life in California instead of daydreaming about the past, "Sorry. I'm still here."
She had been offended when Troy's first email arrived in her mailbox a week after getting settled into her new living space. It had popped in the corner of her screen unexpectedly at the late hours of the night. Gabriella first hyperventilated after a week of mild depression in missing him so much. But it bothered her - had he not cared enough to just simply send an email, instead of calling her on the phone? She was angry, at first, until her eyes scanned the passion that threaded between the lines of the letter he attempted to be platonic in, and ultimately failed. It was then, when he pointed it out at the end of the email, that she realized his reasoning for choosing to write electronically instead of dialing her number wasn't because he didn't want to speak to her – he did it because writing was something that meant so much more to her. A phone call – apart from the occasional drunk dial either one partook in – would have not fit their relationship, for lack of a better word.
"Montez!" A voice called in California, causing her to jump in her chair and induce a chuckle from the curly-haired blonde who hovered over her cubical with lust twinkling in his eyes, "Jeremy wants you to grab your microphone and meet him by the van. Apparently, a gorilla's having babies at the zoo."
"Oh!" Gabriella leapt up, fumbling with the phone that almost crashed to the table, "Shit… you there? Jase?"
"Relax, relax… duty calls. I'll just sit here and watch Frank pick wings out of his teeth." Jason teased. The sound of his voice sounded right at home.
The blonde made no hesitation to attempt to stare at the swoop her cami provided on her chest. Disgusted and flustered, Gabriella immediately turned away and crossed her arms to keep the conversation private, "Listen, Jase just call me the second you get to JFK. And then when you take off. And then when you land. And then when you're in the cab… and then when you're at the apart…"
"Go! You can't even get service on a fucking airplane anyways." Jason reminded her with a chuckle, "go be a hotshot reporter before I cancel the trip."
"Promise you'll call me at the airport?" She hurried out, glancing over her shoulder to see her coworker was getting impatient.
"Promise."
With a smile on her face, Gabriella slammed the phone to the receiver and whirled around with a look of conquest sparkling in her eyes, "So, gorillas huh?"
"Jeremy's by the van." He reminded her, giving her a once over while she fished for her jacket behind her chair.
"Those babies aren't gonna write about themselves. Let's go."
Gabriella quickly learned that she was a very, very impatient person.
Stepping out of the bedroom and creaking the light maple wood that decorated over the door, Gabriella took a deep breath to inhale the overwhelming stench of Febreeze. Her eyes trailed over the recently vacuumed and white carpet and matching creamy walls. The spare change had been removed from between the cushions of the brown couch pushed up against the left wall. The wood on the tv stand and end tables, painted black, had been polished until shiny – along with the television itself. The red curtains billowed with a warm welcome from the air conditioning that protected the apartment from the scourching sunshine that spilled across the flood. The granite counters glinted. Had she curled her head in a certain angle, she would have been able to see the chrome sparkle beneath the mirror.
Yet, her fingers felt a twitch to clean – to make it perfect.
She had practically locked away all her supplies, knowing that the only reason she had a sudden urge to turn a new leaf and be organized was due to her nerves. Of course, there was no reason to be antsy or unsettled – the four coming to visit were her close friends, so there was no reason to try to impress them with her slightly expensive apartment. It was no Sharpay Evans penthouse, but it was upscale to her apartment back in New York. Of course, she was also making money at the Times instead of her internship that paid nothing. Therefore, she was able to splurge ever so slightly.
Gabriella sighed, flopped down onto the couch, and reached for the remote with shaking hands. She was resisting the overwhelming sensation to check her laptop to be certain that they landed on time. As she began to aimlessly flip through the channels, not really watching, she laughed at how pathetic she was acting. Of course, she had made a few work friends and went out for drinks with the couple down the hall every once in awhile, but they weren't her friends. They were no Taylor or Sharpay or Chad or especially Jason and – her mind panged with loneliness at the final thought.
The wait was beginning to become unbearable. The distraction of the television wasn't helping, so she quickly switched it off and began to pace once again. With every step, she shimmied in and out of the rotating sunlight. It was a perfect afternoon apart from the beat of the heat.
Passing the window, something caught her eye. From four stories up, there was no denying the bright yellow vehicle that was parked beside the sidewalk. Heart hammering wildly against her chest, Gabriella slammed her nose against the glass and almost suffocated with the carbon dioxide that rebounded back to her. The long blonde hair that sashayed in a ponytail was unmistakable – she suddenly felt the blood in her veins rush quickly with excitement and had the urge to sprint towards the stairwell to meet them from below.
It was unnecessary. The musical knock upon the door was enough.
She had never run so fast in her life. Hurdling over the coffee table, however, was idiotic. Her foot smacked against the sharp edge of the dark wood and caused her to curse loudly. That didn't stop her. Gabriella continued to plunder towards the door until she practically smashed into it. Taking a deep breath, she closed her fingers around the knob and yanked it open with all of her might.
"Are you sure we have the right…"
"GABRIELLA!"
She recognized the scent immediately when it enclosed her tightly into its embrace. It was crisp, like the ocean chopping against the beach in a rainstorm. It made her smile. She couldn't help but shove her nose into the cotton of his yellow t-shirt and absorb the aroma that smelt so much better than her memories. The person gripped her lower waste with such a power and intensity that it was difficult to keep her eyes from watering in happiness. Squeezing around his waist even tighter, Gabriella buried her face into his chest and fought against the emotions that were threatening to flood down her face. The warmth the embrace provided was euphoric. It was as though she had forgotten how much she missed it until she felt it again – the security of his arms and all they represented.
"You're here." Gabriella whispered softly, yet the intensity was overwhelming.
She could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, "We're here."
At that moment, two other additions of weigh threw themselves into the hug that quickly became a group effort. Gabriella giggled, feeling sandwiched together in a mash of love that projected from the four friends. She knew the low rumble of laughter anywhere, as well as the feminine hands that gripped at her arm as well. They lingered, for seconds far too long before Chad and Taylor slowly peeled themselves from behind and beamed brightly at her. Reluctantly, the male holding her pulled away. Gabriella gazed adoringly up into his milky eyes and grinned.
He looked down when the pressure became too much for her injured foot and she lifted the weight off it. With her hands still on his shoulders, he raised a single black eyebrow before nodding to it, "What's with the Texas size bruise?"
Gabriella blushed. The excitement from their arrival had all but dissipated, "I sorta… tried to be a track star when you knocked."
Jason shook his head and swooped in to press a kiss to her forehead, "Atta girl."
Finally, she peeled herself away and stared at the couple who were staring brightly at her. Taylor, wrapped in an orange summer dress, immediately leapt forward and grasped her forearms with her hands. Gabriella's smiled matched hers as she looked the journalist up and down, inspecting.
"Look at you! You're so tan… and your bangs!" She reached up and fingered the newly formed swoop that curled just about Gabriella's right eye, matching the coils that twirled over her back.
"Look at me? Look at you, Tay! Your hair is so long now." Gabriella lifted up the black strands that now fell just beneath her muscular shoulders. Her chocolate skin already blended with the darkened tones of those in California. Her eyes, however, bulged when they took sight of the man standing behind her. She pushed her childhood friend and walked in a trance towards the unrecognizable figure, "Chad? What the fuck did you do with your afro?" She asked, bewildered. Not caring what he thought, she reached up to touch the short mess of curls that framed his head, along with the fuzzy goatee he sported around his lips.
Chad shrugged, "It was time for a change. Gotta keep you on your toes, right?" He playfully nudged her shoulder playfully before slinging his arm around in a tight squeeze.
"So this is your pad, huh?" Jason commented. His hand trailed approvingly over the shiny surface of the granite. In the kitchen area. He nodded, impressed, when he took sight in the decorative art that adorned the walls and swaying vegetation just beyond the bay window that was her view, "Really Gab, a fucking palm tree out your backyard? Is that your home or some fucking sweet vacation house?" He teased.
Gabriella pouted and crossed her arms, noticing the lack of luggage in his hands, "You could have stayed here, but no, you needed to get a hotel room!"
"Hey! You still have the couch!" Chad injected an unsubtle move to shift the conversation in a different direction. He looked up at her with bright eyes, "I think it looked better in NYC."
Not wanting to kill the mood with her protests, Gabriella sighed, "Yeah… the movers weren't quite as fun as last time though."
Taylor touched her arm tenderly, "We'll be sure to help next time again."
Gabriella smiled softly, trying not to feel bitter about being forced to move in the first place when her life in California was more elite than she ever imagined. Not now, especially when she was ecstatic her friends hand finally come to visit after months of separation."How was your flight?" Gabriella inquired, bouncing on the ball of her foot – the other still throbbed with pain.
Taylor rolled her eyes, waving her hand after dropping her leather purse to the floor, "The boys snored the entire time, but other than that I just read and listened to Sharpay speak baby talk with Zeke. It's was repulsive."
"Where is Shar anyways?" Gabriella asked, glancing towards the door to remember that there was one more companion tagging along.
For a brief moment, the room changed. The wary glances that were exchanged did not go unnoticed by Gabriella, even in her blissful state. Chad and Jason held each other's gaze for a long moment before Jason's sturdy chin made a quick jerk in a nod. Gabriella frowned, uncomfortable with this pass.
However, the tone shifted once again when Jason cleared his throat with a sarcastic cackle, "She needed to bring her day bag up or whatever. You know her; she has seven different shirts to wear in one hour." He grinned brightly, clearly ecstatic to be in her presence once again.
"Yeah, I do know."
There was a silence, of which the three appeared as though they won the lottery. Gabriella took a step backwards, bewildered. They had changed so much since she last hugged them in JFK's airport. There was a tiny pang in her heart, a regret that she hadn't been around for the chop of Chad's beast or the slip of the diamond ring Gabriella assumed she would see upon Sharpay's finger. These little milestones had passed without her presence, making her feel like a slight outsider. Crossing her arms over the black halter she wore and brushing her hands against the jean shorts, she glanced down at the floor and attempted to say something that would make up for her abandonment in the exciting time of their lives.
It was unnecessary, however, because the sound of a shrilling argument filled the room when the blonde actress strutted in with her cage heels and all too short white skirt that strapped to her backside.
"Ugh, could you hurry it up? I thought athletes were supposed to be strong or whatever!" She called over her bony shoulder, popping her hip out and letting the shimmer of pink explode across the walls from her tank top. Her sunglasses were pushed up on her golden head, framing her face and causing her cascading hair to blow around her. She looked like plastic.
And it made Gabriella beam like a kid on Christmas.
"Sharpay!" Gabriella announced her presence and almost rammed into the coffee table once again. She threw her arms around the Broadway star and practically knocked her to the ground. Thankfully, Shapray was an expert at maintaining balance in awkward positions on her heels and managed to keep them standing. Gabriella squeezed tightly around her stick-like waist and choked on the yellow stands that collected in her mouth. Towering over her, Sharpay patted the top of her head, though Gabriella could see the flicker of a truly content grin, "You look amazing!"
"I know, right?" Sharpay said cockily when Gabriella let go of her, giggling.
She bit her lip, unable to keep the smile off of her face as she looked at her four friends with such devotion. Stepping towards Jason and feeling his arm wrap around her shoulder, she gushed, "I'm so happy you guys are …"
"God dammit Evans… did you bring your whole penthouse in this fucking thing?"
Gabriella's heart suddenly stopped beating .If Jason hadn't been holding her up, she would have fainted.
She had imagined this moment for fourteen excruciatingly long weeks – when she turned around and was suddenly faced with all of God's beauty in one man. Her fantasies of bumping into him at Sharpay and Zeke's wedding or flying out to New York for Christmas Eve seemed more logical in her mind, not something as simple as him standing in the threshold of her door with a pink suitcase dropped at his heels. The crazy concoctions of her mind involved either her bursting towards him and throwing her arms around his neck in a tight embrace as she had with Jason or him with Alicia on his arm. But neither occurred – after three and a half months of isolation from each other, Troy Bolton simply stood in front of her with his scalped jaw hanging slightly unhinged and his piercing irises penetrating into the depths of hers, just like they always had.
At first she thought it was a dream, none of the people she loved were standing in her apartment and she was going to wake up with a broken heart again. But her memory could not have that much credit to it; the details of Troy's body were far too intense for it to be a mere recreation. His sparkling teeth were far too white and his skin was kissed with the sun in the perfect shade that was much darker than she remembered. The hair that was still spiked was cut even shorter than it had been previously, leaving no room for a flop that he had held in his previous life but by no means being too much of a buzz. There were shadows beneath his chest due to the strength of his chest and the arms that were highlighted by the tight cling of his red t-shirt. It was too precise, too beautiful to be a figment of her imagination.
Jason removed his arm as though the position didn't belong to him, quickly shooting looks between the ex couple with both curiosity and hesitation, "Gab…?" He started.
"I'm sorry."
The statement held more power than intended as he looked up at her, the first sober words he had physically spoken to her since he revealed the horrors of his past all those months ago. It was difficult to breathe, let alone respond. Therefore, Troy swallowed and ran a hand through his hair, never once breaking their eye contact, "I shouldn't have…"
"Come?" Gabriella finally found her voice, though it was slightly raspy. She tried to clear it and took a step forward, increasing the intensity between the two, "No, no really it's fine. I just wasn't…"
"Expecting me?" Troy asked, moving his foot toward her ever so slightly, in case he would ignite a slumbering giant from within, "I know, I should have called or told you but I was afraid you would tell me to…"
"Stay in New York? No, I'd never." She shook her head, her black curls flying everywhere with the pull of her feet, "I'm just really surprised to see you. I just thought you'd be…"
"Busy? No, I… I wanted to come." He swallowed and gripped a chunk of his hair before peering upwards, his eyes bright and periwinkle. Gabriella suddenly realized they were now mere inches apart, too close to be friendly yet too far to be intimate. She could feel the soft trickles of his breath that left feathers upon her cheeks. A blush rose to her face when he didn't bother to hide the way his eyes trailed approvingly over her body, from her bare legs to her exposed cleavage, "You look…"
"Good?" Gabriella bit her lip, "So do you."
He flashed her a warm smile, the one that had always been saved for her, "I was going to say stunning." He whispered low enough that only she heard it, which made the comment only that much more touching.
They continued to stare at each other, unable to accept that they were finally in each other's presence. Gabriella's finger itched with a twitch to run them over his skin, beneath his shirt, through his hair. It was curious that, no matter how many attractive men from sunny Los Angeles requested for her number, the same electrical vibes ran down her back as they had when they were back in New York. The distance had not changed how she felt about him, how she longed for him. But of course, there was no way of knowing whether Troy was already hitched to another girl or if he even felt the similar vibrations about her.
"Well this is awkward." Sharpay stated bluntly, crossing her arms and tapping her fingers against her skin.
"No it's not." Both Troy and Gabriella responded at the same time, catching an embarrassed glance at each other. Nothing was ever awkward between them.
"So, babe," Gabriella turned towards Jason, too early to see Troy stiffen at the nickname, "What's on the agenda for tonight?"
Gabriella, finally able to feel her throbbing toes again, glanced at the five who had come from millions of miles away just to see her. She felt a swell of gratitude, her broken heart slowly began to piece itself back together, but not quite whole. But it was a start – with the power of the stare drilling into the back of her head, she had never felt so at home as she did in that moment. Although the sun was beginning to set in her large window, the world beamed around her within the walls of the tiny apartment, the way it was supposed to.
"Well, for starters, I could give you a tour? And then there's this Mexican restaurant we could go to." Gabriella suggested.
Shapray snorted, "A tour of what?"
Taylor sent her an evil glare, "A tour would be wonderful."
"I love Mexican!" Jason announced, rubbing his hands together hungrily.
Gabriella caught a glance at Troy, seeing him smirking slightly with his khaki shorts leaning against her cabinets, the way only he could.
"Well, then… show us the way." Chad grinned and pressed a kiss to Taylor's head, instigating they were to commence with the tour.
Fire spread through Gabriella's body as she looked at Troy one more time, introducing him to her brand new life, "Right this way."