Lily;; Well, this is the second chapter of this story Sharpay&Ryan moment. And shows you how the hats begun! I'm trying to make the chapters a little less long.

If you want to know more about the characters, I can mail you some information about them )

Pleaaase read and then review! Scroll down, WAYYY DOWN, and click that awesome little blue button!

Please? Please?

Well, read this chapter first, then give the button some love x)

I will only continue the story if I get reviews ) I have like 8 chapters all-completely ready and I'd hate to not post them, but if there's no interest in them... I can't /

And remember this is rated T. Just because there is a bit of language that's essential to the story... if you're in Girl World, you'd know x)

Disclaimer; I do not own High School Musical or any of their characters, but I did make up loads of other characters and they are MINE, MINE MINE MINE MINE! ;)

Chapter 2

Suffering Because Of Payne

Knock knock knock.

Sharpay's head snapped up.

"Shaaar!" a voice sang. The door creaked open, revealing a grinning face. "Can I come in?" Ryan joked, stepping in the room.

Sharpay closed her magazine. "Well, I guess my opinion doesn't hold much value anymore," she grinned, patting a spot on her bed beside her.

Her twin brother laughed and flopped down besides her.

"Well, hey Shar. Longtime no see." he said, looking around.

"Mmmhmm, these thirteen minutes without you have been TORTURE. Thanks for letting me escape that pain!" she said with mock gratefulness.

Ryan puffed out his chest with a superior look on his face. "It's what I do."

"Well, I escaped pain, but I which I could escape Payne," she groaned, rolling her eyes.

Ryan paused, lifting a pointing finger to the ceiling, hesitating.

"But didn't you say you just escaped it?" he said.

"PAYNE. I meant Alyson, smarty-pants."

"Isn't her last name Maureen?"

"...uh, that's her middle name, Ryan."

"Oh... umm, oops..."

She rolled her eyes. "Why the hell did you come here thought, bothering me and my important buisness?" she winked, because she knew Ryan might've actually believed she was serious.

"You better keep reading your top-secret government files then," he said importantly, pointing at Sharpay's open magazine. "They might need some fashionable shoes to stop world hunger."

He gave an over-exaggerated wink with a wide smile that made fun of Sharpay's little coy wink. Sharpay held back her giggle and smacked his arm.

"Your hair is ugly," she offered, changing the subject.

"Thanks, that's exactly what I wanted to hear."

"If we were in high school, I'd be ashamed to be seen with you in public."

"You ARE ashamed to be seen with me in public."

"Well, I'd never let you out looking like THAT."

"What are you gonna do, make me wear hats?" he joked.

"Oooh, good one Ry. I might just as well pick out your clothes because your taste sucks."

Ryan grinned, not seeing his sister's seriousness. Sharpay squeezed his hand.

There was a small pause.

"I won't be liked at school, will I?" she said quietly.

Ryan stayed silent. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Sharpay looked away.

"No," he said honestly. "Shar, you're idolized, respected, admired, but-"

"But I'm all-around un-likeable."

Ryan stopped again. He seemed to have no answer.

"That's not true. I better go to bed." he said, shaking off his sister's hand and walking away.

He didn't even stick his hed back in for a last little smile.

Sharpay sighed.

She grabbed her sparkly pink diary, and unlocked it with a tiny silver key. She tried to concentrate on her Superstar Journal, but she just wasn't in the mood.

"Shar, you're idolized, respected, admired..."

That used to be enough for her. Why wasn't it anymore? Why was it hard not being liked?

Jenny, Bella, Alice, and Stella like me, she thought. Or maybe just 'idolize, respect, and admire' me.

What about the nail polishes? And my outfit? Didn't they keep repeating how I'm the best?

Or is it possible to be the best without being truly liked?

Sharpay stood up and walked over to her pink vanity desk. Her whole room was basically pink, with silver and gold.

Usually, brushing her hair, putting on her favorite lipgloss, and dancing to a pop song recorded from one of her performances always cheered her up. But she could barely keep her hand from shaking, holding the tube of super-shiny pink lipgloss.

But I'm still more liked than Alyson. Alyson won't win.

She clenched her fists.

I can't lose. I'm gonna RUIN her.

The open lipgloss tube squirted gloss from her strong grip.

And if she takes me down, she thought, cleaning up the mess of gloss that was Alyson's fault. I'm taking her down with me.