The Way Things Are
Hey, I'm Ryan Evans. You may think that you've never heard about me before, but you probably have and just don't remember. Do you know Sharpay Evans? Yeah, she's my twin sister. Now, do you remember that blond kid right behind her? Yeah, that's me. Her shadow.
That, however, is not the point. This story isn't about her. This story is about me and my life. Goodness knows, Sharpay has enough attention. It's my turn.
Anyways, this story starts in my junior year. The beginning of the year started like any other might. We got our schedules, found our classes, and settled into another yearly routine. And just like every year, I was following Sharpay around, doing what she requested of me, listening to her every word. And just like every year, we started preparing for any and all musicals.
Then we got to December, and soon we were let out for winter break (rather than Christmas break because that's not politically correct). Anyways, Sharpay and I spent most of our break practicing our routine for the winter musical. Really, I thought we were doing very well and that we would get the part with no competition. I mean, we've always gotten the lead parts in the musicals. That's just how things are.
Sharpay and I have gotten the lead roles since kindergarten. Our roles in drama, though increasingly similar, were also different. While Sharpay had the competitive spirit and the skills with dancing and singing, I had the passion. I am a good singer and dancer as well, but she's better at choreographing and harmonizing. Regardless of that, I had the passion. I loved being onstage, feeling the heat of the lights, the applause of the audience, and the character that I was portraying. Sharpay saw it as a way to stand out, a way to attract more attention (as if she needs anymore).
Anyways, rehearsing for an upcoming musical was usually the way we spent any of our breaks. She would be "perfect" of course and I would always "need improvement". Regardless, the practice was good for us. Though we've always gotten the parts, we still had to be prepared for something unexpected.
That winter break, though, was different from the others. It was a typical day, three days after Christmas. My mother had gone out to buy some groceries as we had somehow managed to run out of leftovers (no small feat I might add). Anyways, Sharpay and I were rehearsing the song we were going to perform at the audition and she was yelling at me as usual. My "spirit fingers" weren't "spirity" enough.
"Ryan, can't you do anything right?" Sharpay asked, rolling her eyes impatiently. I glared at her slightly but didn't dare say anything. That's just how things are.
"Sorry," I mumbled before heading back to my starting position. We were putting the finishing touches on the dance section for the song What I've Been Looking For. Now, do you remember how I said I love singing and dancing. Yeah, not on this song. At first I did, and then I had to listen to it over and over and over again. There's no ceasing! That's one of the downsides of musicals. After a while, you have to listen to the music so much to get the cues and everything that you end up hating it. It's worth it though.
Sharpay hits play on the cd player with the music on it and we start dancing again, and then enter vocals. I think we sound brilliantly, considering that this is just an audition, but Sharpay won't hear anything about it. We need to be perfect-even though that goes against my belief that perfection is merely a figment of the imagination that can be dreamed about but never achieved.
Anyways, that's totally off topic. So, we're rehearsing and I'm, typically, doing a lousy job (according to Sharpay).
"You did it wrong again, Ryan!" she shrieks, frustration coursing through her voice. "It's really not that hard!"
I rolled my eyes again and bit back a harsh retort. To say anything against her would be going against our own personal hierarchy. That's just how things are.
Sharpay started again, but just as the cues for the vocalist came up, the phone rang. I pressed pause as she flipped her hair out of her face and hurried over to answer the phone. Meanwhile, I sat back into one of our couches.
I'm not going to lie. My family is fairly rich. Okay, that's lying. My family is totally rich. I'd like to think that this doesn't create my character, but I know it does and to say otherwise would be more lying. It's not like I'm a jerk (at least I don't think so), we just…were more blessed than other people. Honestly, I've always wondered what it would be like to live on a strict budget rather than being capable of living flamboyantly. However, because of my family's great wealth (my father invented the toaster strudel, go figure), I live in a fairly big house with a lot of expensive furniture that my mom would probably kill me for looking at, let alone sitting on. This thought makes me stand up quickly and I walk over to an older couch.
After flinging myself upon it, I glance at my sister. A worried look is on her face, which has turned deathly pale. Tears are glistening in her eyes and she looks like she's about to fall apart. For a moment I think she's acting with a friend or something, but when I sit up and observe her closer, I can see that she is indeed deeply troubled. I stand up and walk over to her, a concerned expression on my face.
As I lean against the wall next to the phone, I hear her breathe in deeply before softly saying, "Thank you …yes, I'll call him as soon as I can. Yes…Thank you. Good bye."
She hung up the phone and stood there, staring at the wall blankly. I look at her intently, waiting for her to say something. She doesn't. Instead she just stands there. Her behavior is starting to scare me. It's not like her to be so quiet, especially when something dramatic has just happened. But I don't press her. I'll wait until she's ready to tell me what happened. That's just how things are.
Sharpay walks over and sits on the couch moments later, mom's expensive couch. I raise my eyebrows at this but don't say anything.
"Don't worry, mom won't get angry about my sitting on her new expensive couch," Sharpay snaps, laughing hollowly.
"Why not?" I ask, confused.
Another hollow laugh. I'm starting to get scared. "She's not coming home, Ryan," Sharpay whispers. "She finally let her own stupidity kill her…she's not coming home."
I stop moving. "What?"
"She was over the speed limit and crashed into a tree." Sharpay shook her head numbly. "The only fucking tree in a 90 mile radius and she hit it. Amazing."
Quickly, she stood up. "I'm going out for a drive. Tell dad. I might be home late."
With that, she exited the living room, leaving me home alone to explain both my mother's death and Sharpay's absence. But I don't stop her. That's just how things are.
A.N. This is my first venture away from the Harry Potter realm (unless you count Pong, which I'm not). Anyways, I hope you like this. I'm going to have fun writing this, even if you don't enjoy reading it. Um, I'd like it if you reviewed, but if you don't, thanks for reading it anyways. Later!