A/N: As always, thank you so much for reading. I know a lot of you were slightly angry that I skipped ahead three months, but I did it because I personally felt that writing about the time in between would have been redundant and it would have dragged. Ultimately, as an author, I need to choose what I feel is right for the story, and that was the path I chose. But I really appreciated the honesty in your reviews. Really, honesty is only going to make me better… so thank you for caring enough to let me know your true thoughts.
I hope you like this chapter. The song that goes with it is La Isla Bonita.
Troy had missed her.
It wasn't even a mental thought that he had carried around with him when he attempted to go about his days. He missed her – physically, emotionally, romantically, sexually, and passionately. It wasn't like after Emily's funeral; he had felt a powerful emotion that ate away his intestines and left him to rot then. Her betrayal and selfishness hadn't been as excruciating as how Troy had felt every day for fourteen weeks before seeing Gabriella. This pain wasn't a stab; it was a dull ache that pulsed with each beat of his heart, pumping blood through his body without oxygen. Of course, he managed, but not without a cost. Colors had dulled and smells faded in her absence. Half of him had disappeared – the better half, the human half.
He hadn't said goodbye – which could have been why he had craved her for three months in their separation. At first, it had seemed most logical to him: had he caved to her constant texts and voicemails of asking him to say goodbye at the airport that fateful morning, he was certain he wouldn't have had the strength to really let her go. They could have tried a long distance relationship of course, but at the time, Troy had stupidly thought it would have only distracted her as Emily had with him while he was on the road. He couldn't fully sever in a clean break; the bi-weekly emails of an attempt at small talk he had sent had been enough to keep him functioning.
The first week of her departure he had drown himself with alcohol, yet the loneliness remained. He hadn't bothered eating – he was only going to purge it back into the toilet anyways. Thankfully, Chad had banged on his door and dragged him back into civilization. He screamed at an unresponsive Troy for three hours straight before bringing him to the only place that would snap some life into him – the basketball courts.
Troy hadn't been healed after that, but it was bearable. He was able to smile and laugh and enjoy himself as he always had, but there was a piece of him missing. The bed was too big and he couldn't read the newspaper without feeling a burn in his eyes. His hands shook every time he visited Taylor or Chad – his eyes shifting towards the fifty year-old widow who had taken over her residency. Gabriella had entered his life and left her mark, making it impossible for him to return to the life he had before she had danced into his. He didn't just crave the fingers of a woman, he yearned for the touch of his woman – the one he had shipped across the country thinking it was best for her. Which, given the tour of the apartment, it had been.
But he hadn't expected his heart to be shipped off right with her.
He wasn't oblivious to the way she kept glancing over at him from across the purple and orange table either, while their friends proved their idiocy over and over with each shot glass they consumed. Although he didn't want to admit it, it gave him an ego stroke to know that she was still paying attention to him. And no matter how many times Jason wrapped his arm around her, Troy knew she would steal a glance at him, confirming that even if Jason and Kelsi had broken up two months ago, their relationship remained platonic.
"Bolton, Bolton, Bolton!" Chad announced from across the way, lifting his arms haphazardly and not caring who he swung into. Troy noticed the way his eyes were black, due to the dilated pupils of drunkenness and stupidity, and his cheeks were flushed, matching the rest of the table beneath the delicate painting brought by Spanish influence, "Dude… sing Journey with me, man!"
Snorting, Troy leaned back in his chair and raised the beer bottle to his lips, "Fuck no."
"Do it man! Do it!" Jason cheered, lifting his glass of tequila in a toast.
Troy didn't know how long his friends had been drinking for, nor did he care. Thankfully, the restaurant and bar was too focused on being sure the group in the corner wouldn't rip each others heads off in a slurred fight that escaladed. Troy himself was feeling a slight buzz, but not to the point of obnoxiousness like Chad was expressing as he stood. The rest of the group seemed to be in the same state of mind that he was, or so Troy thought. He was thankful he had already known the route to Gabriella's apartment in case they would need a sober leader.
"I'm not going to burst out in Journey, you idiot." Troy rolled his eyes, feeling uncomfortable with the stares he was catching from the other groups scattered around the bar.
"Troy," he jumped when he felt a hand run through his spiked bangs from the side. Sharpay's gaze was lustful, no matter how her ring glistened in the dimmed lighting, "Do it, for me, please?"
Troy could feel the burn of Gabriella's stare on the side of his cheek when he slowly pulled away from her touch, knowing Zeke wouldn't be happy if his fiancée was hitting on the guy she used to be infatuated with, "I'm going to get air." Troy announced to everyone and no one at the same time, pushing away from the table and standing up. His eyes met the smolder of Gabriella's for a brief moment, feeling an inferno rush to his toes and back to his heart again.
"Party pooper…. Just a small town girl!" The sound of Chad's bellow echoed through the restaurant as he passed the clay covered walls and attempted to hide his face from the curious bystanders that had noticed him when he first entered the restaurant – a price for returning to the town that made him famous.
The atmosphere was clearer when he stepped out into the night. It was warm, a contrast to the iciness of New York in the winter. But he had gotten used to it in the two weeks he had inhabited the area. There were couples cuddled together beneath the canopy the restaurant provided, filtering the twinkling stars and lights of the city from above. The large, adobe pillars held up the shelter with elegance and intimacy. Troy leaned against one, listening to the Latin love song that whispered through the entwined legs of the lovers and coiled through the pink lilies that threaded through the structure above. He smiled at the elderly man with his hand holding the delicate palm of his wife, whispering sweet nothings that never faded with time.
His arm curled around the support, allowing his eyes to close and imagine himself at that age, holding the hand of perfection itself.
The same perfection that sung her harmonic voice from behind.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Troy turned around and swallowed thickly, thinking that yes, his vision was indeed beautiful.
Gabriella's white cocktail dress sashayed as she walked towards him in her heels that were far from innocent, yet were not by any means slutty. Her hair bounced as she walked towards him, framing the angelic face that held a tiny smile. Unable to help himself, he gave her a once over, admiring the way her dress hugged the curves of her breasts and hips in the perfect spots that made his mouth run dry. Her skin glowed – Troy was certain that she was holy, a divine sent from above. He longed to reach out and brush her freshly cut bangs aside or trail his fingers down the surface cup of her chest. Instead, he shoved them into his jeans and attempted to silence the man within.
"What are you doing out here?" She asked when she reached him - her eyes big and bright.
Troy shrugged nonchalantly, "It was getting…crowded in there." He glanced sideways to be sure there were no other onlookers catching a sneak peak at the ex basketball star.
She smiled in understanding, which made Troy uneasy. This was the first time they had been alone since he had confessed of his past to her. It made him slightly wary under her scrutiny, but her smile was both therapeutic and contagious. He had missed it, just as he had missed everything else about her.
"I'm surprised you're not wasted." Gabriella's fingers trailed over the surface of the clay fence that surrounded the restaurant. The déjà vu of standing upon Sharpay's balcony a year ago overcame him – when this whole mess began.
Troy chuckled and leaned towards her, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her perfume, "Neither are you."
Gabriella raised her shoulders innocently, "Someone's got to make sure we get home. I don't want to do anything I'd regret."
A pang pierced through his heart, immediately causing him to turn away. Regret? He didn't want to think of the implications of that word and what alcohol could have potentially done to them. Even now, Troy struggled to restrain himself from brushing the back of his fingers over her cheek or collect her in his embrace. Under the influence, Troy knew he would have had no chance and would have jumped her the first opportunity he got. But control was instrumental in completing her happiness. And if that meant being sure she would not regret anything, then so be it.
Fire burned through his sports jacket when he felt a hand rest on his bicep. Obviously, she had noticed his change and she took to looking up at him with a blazing stare, "I'm really happy you came."
He shifted so his body was mostly supported by the pillar as Gabriella's thumb gently rubbed. Oh god, how he wanted to hold her – to kiss her and touch her and ravish her. Her dress wiggled in the wind as she stepped closer, increasing the intensity and the tension that pulsated between them. She closed her eyes, never once faltering the curls of her shimmering lips, and inhaled deeply. He had never wanted to press his lips against someone as much as he did in that moment.
"Gab," he whispered, pushing gently at her clavicle to keep her from reaching the point of no return. His skin burned on impact, "we should head back. Jason will be wondering where you are."
Disappointed, but not surprised, Gabriella's lashes fluttered open and she stared at him, doe-eyed, "Right, the gang."
"Come on, you should be celebrating." Troy nodded towards the entrance. He stepped forward, leading her towards where she belonged…
…completely obvious to her frustrated groan behind him.
When Gabriella woke up the next morning, she already knew it was going to be a rough day.
Her back ached when she attempted to roll over the next morning, refusing to open her eyes in case the windows allowed lights to stream through. Already, her head throbbed and her stomach held the hallow sensation of burnt flesh. After several moments of contemplating whether or not she should brave the outside world yet, Gabriella dared to creak open her eyes the slightest to see a mountain range of lumps filling the inside of her bed. Surprisingly, it was bearable, so she opened her eyes fully and blinked several times to clear the sleep enough to see Jason's mouth pressed against the pillow beside her and Sharpay on his other side, snoring slightly.
Pushing back the covers delicately so she would not wake the other two, Gabriella wobbled when she first stood, not used to her legs quite yet. She staggered, holding her hands out to brace herself on the walls in case she was to topple over by accident. After settling herself, she began to drag her feet towards the door, careful to step over the snuggled couple upon the floor at the foot of her bed. Immediately after exiting, she gently closed the door behind her and was greeted with the distinct smell of coffee grounds.
She felt him before she saw him with his back turned towards her so she could admire the way his white dress shirt shimmied off his body. Gabriella swallowed, attempting to remain as quiet as possible as she tip toed forward and restrained the temptation to throw her arms around him in a tight embrace. It wasn't until he turned around with a coffee mug from her cabinet that he noticed her, his eyebrows raised with surprise.
"Morning." Troy greeted in a warm whisper, probably afraid of Gabriella's disturbing hangover. Thankfully, she seemed to not be as affected as she originally thought and only had a sharp headache and a slight stomachache.
"Morning." Gabriella responded neutrally, leaning against the granite counter top.
The fond smile that grew over his lips sent shivers down his toes, "Sorry I borrowed the coffee pot… but I figured it'd be sorta warm when you guys woke up."
"It's fine." Gabriella waved her fingers, but furrowed her eyebrow, "Why are you up, anyways?"
Troy shrugged and poured a glass of the java, "I'm headed to the gym, figured I'd get it done before you guys really started the day."
Even in her slightly fuzzy state, Gabriella cocked her head while giving his black pants and shiny shoes a once over, unconvinced, "You're going to the gym… in a suit? Do you even know where the gym is?"
"I scoped it out while walking to the restaurant last night." He slid the mug to her skillfully. Gabriella offered him a thankful grin while placing the ceramic to her lips.
"Are you feeling alright?" Troy asked after he poured himself a glass and leaned against the counter once again.
The memories of tequila were present, but hazy. She could recall every moment of her drunkenness, but everything simply blurred together in a mess of time that she hadn't grasped on. All she knew was that she was sober when she waltzed out of the restaurant to coax Troy back inside and then she was drunk when she left – contradicting her previous claim that she hadn't wanted to make herself vulnerable to throwing herself at him when he was leaving in just a few short days. But one drink ended up being five drinks in her happiness for her friends' visit. Therefore, she felt like a complete idiot standing before him while he looked so calm, attractive, and sobered.
Gabriella nodded, nursing her drink and allowing her black hair to spill around her shoulders, "You look pretty good for what happened."
Awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, Troy chuckled, "I laid low last night. Someone had to make sure we got home and sleep on the couch instead of the orgy in there." He nodded towards her bedroom door, raising a mortified blush to her cheeks at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as her best friend while perfection itself had remained outside.
"Troy, Troy I swear to god nothing…"
"It's cool." His eyes were ice when he spoke; proving he thought it was anything but cool. It was possible he was having flashbacks to what his own best friend used to do to him when they ended up in the same bed together. Gabriella shuddered, thinking of the reasons for her as a distraction.
Troy glanced down at his watch, "Shit… I gotta run." he threw his coffee back in one toss and put it into the sink.
Eyes bugging, Gabriella suddenly became desperately worried. He was leaving? After just arriving the day before? Frozen water crept through her veins and panic suddenly exploded within her mind. She craved for every moment possible with him, after the months of abandonment she had experienced. Gabriella slammed her mug down all too powerfully and attempted to calm her trembling hands. Troy glanced up at her warily as he shrugged on the matching jacket and slung a tie around his neck to be perfected at a later time.
"Gab?" He called softly, tenderly, as if he still loved her.
Gabriella couldn't help herself. Her hand jutted out and gripped his wrist with such desperation that she didn't even know she possessed, "Yo-you're coming back?" Her voice vibrated.
Baby blue and shiny, his eyes widened in understanding, "I'm not… I'm gonna meet you at The Times today. I just gotta do this first…"
The world stopped crumbling at her feet as she let out a sigh, not even bothering to question where he was truly going since all she cared about was that he was coming back, "Promise?" She whispered, staring up at him.
Troy smiled and tapped the bottom of her chin - an action that could be interchangeable of platonic or romantic, "I promise. I'll meet you there at one," he turned towards the door with a brisk stride, "oh, Gabi?"
Gabriella turned to see his head was thrown back and he was snickering, "Hmmm?"
"Make sure you put some pants on before heading to work."
His laughter echoed when Gabriella glanced down to see she was only dressed in a violet cami and her stripped boy shorts underwear.
"I think this is my favorite spot on the tour."
Gabriella, blushing embarrassingly, rolled her eyes and slapped Jason's chest, "Jase, it's my desk. There's nothing exciting about it."
Jason shrugged, bending over with his forefinger and his thumb caressing his chin and surveyed over the pictures that hung loosely on the walls. She could see the reflection of the imagines shinning in the glossy surface of his dark eyes. Placing a hand on her swiveling chair to keep balance, Gabriella stepped backwards and allowed Chad and Taylor to step forwards as well, pointing and smiling every time they spotted an appearance of themselves. Luckily, the news room was busy enough to keep their conversation private, yet not chaotic to make her feel stressed. Although Gabriella was itching to move her fingers against the keyboard as the other journalists were doing, she continued to grin fondly at her friends' excitement for her accomplishments since she left New York.
"This is wonderful, Gabriella." Taylor gushed and raised to her full height once again, "We're so incredibly proud of you."
Jason nodded, throwing his head over his shoulder, "We are. You're the best picture hanger I've ever met."
Repressing the temptation to flip him off in case any of her bosses happened to swing by, Gabriella chose to stuck her tongue out instead, "Hey… at least I actually have walls to hang stuff on. You just have a desk where you sit and stare at the Big Mac sitting in Frank's ass." She teased. Chad chuckled, though his eyes were hallowed and he had barely spoken all morning. Gabriella assumed he wanted to be, as Sharpay was at that moment, back at her apartment and trying to sleep off an epic hangover.
"Aren't you supposed to be taking the day off today?"
Gabriella' head snapped up at the unexpected voice that hummed softly behind her. Cranking towards the entrance of the cubical, the man who started this dream leaned up against the corner with his blue eyes twinkling as he gazed upon her friends – immediately jumping to a proper stance with wide eyes. In his calloused hands, he waved a copy of The Los Angeles Times to fan the beads of sweat that hugged his hairline.
"Jeremy! Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I should have asked if I could…"
"Montez, chill." Jeremy rolled his eyes, "But if you don't introduce me to them, I might get a little pissed."
A rush of rose spilled over her cheeks over her embarrassing overreaction. However, she smiled when she turned back towards her friends, who were beaming brightly back at her, "This is Chad Danforth, Taylor McKessie, and Jason Cross. Jase is a photographer at The Tribute." Gabriella explained and pointed to each respective friend as she spoke their names.
"I'm Jeremy Allen, I make sure this girl stays in line." Jeremy winked in her direction while shaking hands with all three. Giggling at his lax behavior, Gabriella faded backwards as Jason's face lit up while in the presence of an editor so elite, "How's Frankie treatin' ya Cross?"
His dark eyebrow furrowed at the recognition of his bosses name, "You know Frank?"
Jeremy snorted, "It's hard not to know Frank. He and I wrote on The New York Times for a year or two before he started The Tribute. I used to hide his donuts every morning in the copy room. Needless to say, he didn't like me much. Can't imagine why." He chuckled, running a hand through his floppy blonde locks and beaming brightly with his sparkling smile.
Suddenly, the air in the news room shifted. Heads popped out from their cubical like daisies, all swiveling in the same direction. Jason felt it too, being in the atmosphere of reporters, and began to reflexively reach for his belt loop where he camera laid. Jeremy glanced up too, raising his eyebrows and surveying the scene simultaneously to the way Gabriella was doing. Her body was on guard and she was in pouncing position when the young journalist who summoned her the day before rushed behind her boss, panting breathlessly.
"Jeremy… you'll never guess who rose from the dead…" He gasped, not even realizing Gabriella was there.
"What are you talking about?"
Gabriella, however, didn't hear Jeremy's demand for information. Instead, her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of something far more entrancing that someone rising from the dead. Although she was barely as tall as the top of the faux walls – even in her three inch heels – she wouldn't miss his entrance for a simple barrier as height. Her pulse pitter pattered as she watched Troy's brisk stride, his aviators covered the intensityof his eyes as he swiveled his head around, completely ignoring whatever was capturing everyone else's attention. She didn't care either. The flashing lights around, the whispers – these were lost in the pull she had towards him, her desire to hold him.
That was, until she heard, "You've got to be pulling my dick, he's alive."
Gabriella blinked and suddenly realized what everyone was gawking at: the same thing she was.
"Oh shit…" Chad mumbled, suddenly awakening to what was occurring.
Although The Los Angeles Times was a highly respectable newspaper, cameras were flashing like the paparazzi. Troy was unphased, practiced by this experience. His jaw was a rock, but there was a flicker of a smirk that curled as he approached. There were whispers, but no one dared to speak to him. It felt as though Tom Cruise was walking through the bees nest, only worse. The reactions varied – some, the newer reporters, were completely oblivious to whom he was and the more experienced who had remembered typing their own articles about him and were completely dumbstruck. Apparently, the years that had passed meant little – he still had left his mark in Los Angeles.
Gabriella jumped when he didn't stop before her and instead grabbed her shoulders, never once removing his sunglasses, even if he was inside. She trembled when he leaned towards her ear, his breath hot with passion, "You're the only one I would walk through this for." He whispered huskily, making Gabriella breathless with just a few simple words.
The sentence's meaning meant more than it should have.
His head brought around and he gave her a soft, one sided smile. A flash of a camera from behind illuminated the scar that ran down his cheek - one that still made him beautiful.
"Well I'll be damned…" Jeremy broke their stare and Troy immediately dropped his arms, leaving Gabriella with an empty sensation around her clavicle. However, Jason set her a knowing look when Troy unconsciously stepped in front of her possessively. Warning bells rung in her head, reminding her not to get too comfortable – for she still had no idea what his relationship status was and in case this was all just a natural reaction to her. For all she knew, Alicia and him could have returned to their status as it was before she entered his life. She didn't want to break her own heart with childish dreams that this might mean anything more.
"Troy Bolton? I can honestly say I never thought I'd see you again." her boss grinned, slightly star struck. The cameras continued to flicker, but suddenly Jeremy became aggressive. He shot around towards the photographers and swatted them away, "Who do you think you are, TMZ? Go take pictures somewhere else!" Quickly, the employees scattered and he turned back to the basketball star, "Sorry about that."
Troy shrugged casually, but didn't take away his disguise. Gabriella suddenly felt as though he was a celebrity, this year's heartthrob. And he had been hers for a brief moment in her life.
"Can't say I was expecting that." Troy commented. It was bizarre to hear him speak so freely about something he had kept a secret from her for so long. How strange that no one knew exactly who he was in New York, but once in LA, he had become famous once again.
"Jeremy Allen, huge fan." Jeremy jut out his hand, which Troy immediately took to shake.
"Troy Bolton." Troy introduced himself, as though Jeremy had no idea who he was.
"Montez!" The blonde mop flopped as he whirled to her, "Why the hell didn't you tell me you knew this guy?"
Knew him? That was an understatement. Gabriella had memorized every inch of him. Troy turned to her slightly, his hand reaching out as though to break the air between them and brush against her. Her three friends noticed, but remained silent when Gabriella simply shrugged, "You never asked."
"I'd love to run a story, I always wondered what happened to you. Montez can even write it, if she's okay with picking at your past." Jeremy snickered with a playful elbow nudge.
This, of all things, made Troy finally swivel his head towards her with raised eyebrows. A sudden rush of memories to the night in the black of her apartment and the horror story he had whispered crawled up her body. She shivered, but never faltered her gaze from beneath Troy's glasses. He was waiting, waiting for her confession. Gabriella swallowed, fighting against her instincts to place a hand on his arm or lace their fingers together in support.
Gabriella laughed dryly and shook her head, "Eh… he doesn't strike me as someone I'd want to uncover." She responded with a smirk on her lips that was mirrored on Troy's.