Disclaimer: It's probably obvious, but I don't own any of the HSM characters or their related elements.
Written June 25, 2006
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Chapter 3 – The Hidden Drama
We had turned out the light long ago, but Troy still moved around, restless. He had spooned me for a bit, then retreated over to his side of the bed. Then just as I started to fall asleep, his arm snaked over my side again. I felt him kiss my shoulder as he settled in behind me.
I kept my eyes closed. "Okay," I whispered. "I know you're awake."
He kissed the back of my head. "Just go back to sleep."
I let out a scoff. "Not with you moving around every five minutes," I said. "But… you can tell me what's bugging you. If it helps."
There was a brief silence, and then he spoke up quietly. "Okay." He let out a breath. "Okay. I can't stop thinking about Sharpay and Zeke. What I said to her. Or I guess what we both said to her."
He sighed. "I just feel… kind of guilty. We told her to figure out what was negotiable, what she wanted. And then she did it… and look what happened." He was quiet for a minute. "Maybe they would have fixed it on their own."
"Or maybe this would have happened anyway," I said.
"Maybe." He hugged me a little tighter. "I just thought it was the right thing to do."
"So that's okay. We did our best."
"Well… the road to hell is paved with good intentions."
I groaned. "Okay, stop. You are never going to get anywhere thinking like that."
"It's just… I didn't want them to break up. And I feel partially responsible for everything that's happened."
I sighed. "Look." I turned around and put my arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek and hugging him close. "You didn't do anything wrong. Asking her to articulate what she wanted wasn't somehow the key to ruining their relationship. It was what she wanted that's the problem for them. You didn't exactly hand him the prenup and insist that he sign it."
"No," he said, sounding faintly relieved.
"Good, then."
I turned around and he held me close again, his body feeling more relaxed against mine. "So you're not going to ask me to sign a prenup, are you?" he asked.
"No," I said, "but I don't have any money or kids to worry about like Sharpay does." I laughed suddenly. "I've got a pile of student debt though, if you're interested."
"I'll have to think about it." He laughed slightly, then paused. "Sharpay and Zeke—they got together back at the reunion, didn't they?"
"They did," I said, yawning slightly as I drifted off to sleep. "Just like us."
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The next day, I sat at my corner cubicle at Poptech, sorting through the endless e-mails that had accumulated in my inbox over the weekend. I worked on the third floor of a lemon-yellow building in a neighbourhood called South Park. It was the core of the city's tech sector, and got its name from the lush green park right in the middle.
The magazine's headquarters took up three floors of the building and were exquisitely designed. Huge windows made it bright and airy, and the colour scheme was a cool mix of brown and red that felt businesslike but not stern. Most of the floors were cubicle space, but for the lucky few, there were five glassed-in offices lining the west wall on every floor. And I was keeping an eye on one of these glass offices, waiting for Anna Czyrka, the photo editor, to get off the phone.
I had been late this morning—Sharpay had stopped us both as we headed out the door, delivering a tearful farewell before she headed off to the airport—and had missed most of the editorial meeting which usually set the direction for the week. But stealing a glance over I saw Anna flip her thick blond ponytail over her shoulder and settle in behind her desk, obviously amused by whoever was on the other end of the line. I was probably going to be waiting a while.
Anna was almost the only real friend I had in the editorial office. While I had been freelancing articles for Poptech for months now, I had only spent a month as associate editor on staff. My contract was just for a four-month stint, covering a maternity leave plus overlapping summer vacation time for two of the senior editors. But besides Anna, it seemed like a lot of the staff wanted me to remember I wasn't going to be here for long. The staff seemed to be its own clique, polite but friendly to me, but always just forgetting to include me socially. The one consolation was that the Poptech offices were incredibly close to Troy's office. It was a relief to know I had someone to call on if I needed to vent, or just wanted to have lunch in the park.
I scanned through the e-mail idly, then looked up again to see Anna put down the phone. Walking over to see her, she smiled as I entered her office.
"Hey," she said warmly. "Didn't see you at the meeting this morning. Good weekend?"
I sat in the chair across from her. "Kind of strange, actually." I told her about Sharpay, and she winced slightly.
"That's got to be weird," she said. "I mean, you feel for them, but I wouldn't want to be involved in trying to fix the whole thing. It's touchy. You don't want to be blamed for anything."
"Yeah," I said. "That's what I thought at first… but Troy just felt like we should do something for her. He's way too nice." I shrugged, then grinned at her. "Anyway, so the meeting this morning. Anything fun happen?"
"Not really," she said. "Well, unless you count Camille doing the Camille thing again. Which is always fun for all of us."
She rolled her eyes. Camille Henderson was the assistant editor and the only person who was unabashedly cold toward me in the office. She had applied for my job when it came up a couple of months ago, and hadn't taken the rejection well. Ever since I had arrived, she seemed to be constantly talking up her own magazine projects and her qualifications, especially when I came up short. Anna told me not to be bothered about it… but sometimes, it really did seem like the other editors were listening to her.
"What was it this time?"
"Oh, something about her success with the last issue on remix culture. Your name came up and she said she could help you coordinate the future of science issue next month… if you were having trouble coming to meetings like this."
"She is unbelievable." I shook my head. "I'm fine with the issue though. It's all going according to plan. "
"I know," said Anna, smiling. "I knew it when you pitched the theme in the first place. It's going to be great when it comes out next month. Just let Mike know what you're up to, he'll see right through Camille."
Mike was the managing editor, one of the top bananas at the magazine and the husband of Troy's co-worker Wendy. We got along well. I nodded at Anna, and she grinned.
"You're a star, Gabi. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
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After work I went home and sat alone in the apartment, watching Oprah and eating the leftovers from last night's meal. Troy had left a message on my voice mail earlier today, saying he would be late getting home and would miss dinner. As the show moved to a commercial break at the half-hour mark, I heard the lock click at the door.
"Hey," said Troy, heaving his messenger bag to the floor. He looked tired. "What's going on?"
"Just checking in with my homegirl."
He made a face, walking over to the living room and looking at the television. "Oprah again?"
I took a bite of salad. "I like her."
"She's a fearmongerer."
"She does it because she cares," I said. "Today they're doing makeovers anyway. I can't wait to see how the ancient librarian turns out."
He grinned, but his face looked serious. I looked at him carefully, and put my bowl down on the table, turning the volume down on the television as I spoke. "So why were you late?"
He sat down in the chair across from me and rubbed his eyes. "Well… I went to see Zeke after work."
I looked at him in disbelief. "What?"
"Well… I looked up his bakery, and it wasn't too far." He sighed. "I couldn't get them off my mind. I just wanted to make sure he was doing okay too."
"Troy." I said. "I think you went a little too far, going over there."
He sounded unconvinced. "I don't know. I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck. "We went out for a beer after. The whole thing seems a lot more complex than Sharpay was talking about."
"It is?"
"Well, yeah," he said. "Zeke seemed kind of torn up about it, but he was pretty lucid. I mean, there was the prenup thing. But he had a lot more reasons to be rethinking their relationship besides that."
He leaned back into the chair. "They'd been talking a couple of weeks before. The subject of kids came up. His business is doing well, and he wants to have some right away. But Sharpay doesn't want to have any for a while. Not for at least another couple of years, even if then."
He sounded a touch incredulous at Sharpay's decision. "Oh," I said, feeling something in me twinge. I didn't really want to have kids for a while either.
But Troy was still going. "And she doesn't want to take his name after they're married."
He said this one as though Sharpay had announced she was getting a sex change, or wanted the honeymoon to be on Jupiter. "Oh," I said, feeling that twinge again. Was he seriously concerned about this? Because I hadn't thought twice about it from the beginning—I completely expected to keep my own name after we were married.
"I mean, you can see why he's confused," he said. "Zeke said that he's worried he kind of jumped into this too quickly. Marriage is a serious commitment. It's your whole lives. You have to be agreed on where you're going. And right now, he's worried that he's just seeing what he wants to see, instead of what's really there."
He looked straight at me, and I felt suddenly queasy.
"Right," I said, swallowing hard.
