Chapter 2:

A young man with a fair complexion sat quietly in his study, eyes glazed. He could hear the soft tapping of rain drops against the glass as the wind whistled between the leaves. On his table were piles of books and journals that he had planned to study on. He sipped his tea slowly, preoccupied.

Since early morning, he felt a nagging feeling in his chest. He was not certain the source of this disturbing feeling and he could not erased it from him. He brushed his platinum blond hair away. Something was wrong.

He picked up his fountain pen and added his thoughts on sheets of papers. Often documenting his thoughts into written words, he had little time to share those outside of his work and study. He was passionate of his work and writings. Merging and moulding statistical facts and life experiences together, he strived for perfection.

He felt a fair amount of bitterness and bliss in life before he retrieved into his personal bubble, distancing himself from the society. He was a man with a clear calm face that glowed with a smile but a total wreck underneath his façade. He despised the foundation that supported the society. The unspoken rules that all must abide at all cost.

A soft ring from the bottom of the stairs caused the man to snap from his fictional word to reality. He raised his brows; emerald green eyes glowed with curiosity. He rarely had visitors. He had spent most of his life alone and had never felt the need of a companion.

He made his way down the flight of stairs, pondering who he would find on his porch on this rainy afternoon. Again the doorbell rang. He cocked his brows and unlocked the front door.

Swinging it open, his eyes widened with surprise.

On his porch was a weeping Ryan Evans, soaked thoroughly from head to toe. Crystal blue eyes reflected sadness and pain that he could not comprehend.

Seeing the worried expression on the man's face, Ryan Evans parted his lips to speak but not a word escaped those blue lips. Unable to find his voice. Unable to speak of what had just happened.

Slowly, he pulled Ryan into a warm embrace and comforted him. Holding tightly to the frail shivering body in his arms.

"I'm here." Lawrence Driscoll comforted.

"They are not going to recover, aren't they?" Ryan asked their family doctor, hands covering his aching eyes.

Dr Driscoll raised his head, studying the blond sitting before him. "There's a fair chance of recovery."

Ryan Evans registered those words in his head, glancing sideways at the doctor. "A very slim one I presumed." Ryan spoke his mind as he adjusted his sitting posture, eyes shut from the intensity of the light in the doctor's office.

Driscoll frowned at that statement. He was a pessimist but not as bad as Ryan Evans was. He dipped his head slightly and answered after a deep thought. "The chance is slim but that does not mean it is impossible. I admit the likeliest possibility to occur would be degradation of vision but not necessarily always for patients with similar conditions as yours Ryan."

Ryan smiled lightly at those words. "Ambiguous like always. You are not providing me with a proper answer. I'm your patient and I do have a right to know my actual condition." Ryan replied, eyes squinting.

Lawrence chuckled, handing Ryan his shades. "Wear back your shades. I'm done examining your eyes."

Putting on his shades, Ryan sighed in relief. "Finally. Now answer me, what's my actual condition?"

Dr Lawrence Driscoll folded his arms and studied the dashing lad. "There's no actual condition. A patient's condition varies from time to time. Your eyes might be on the process of healing or otherwise. And frankly, there are other matters that you should put under serious consideration. Do you believe the head concussion only cause you blurry vision? Damages your pupils that only permit you to see under a limited intensity of light? Such head concussion normally leads to serious migraine, memory lost and impaired coordination."

"But I had none of those." Ryan replied, worried.

Driscoll sighed and leaned far back into his seat. "Those are the possibilities. So far the report came back was nothing worrying. But like I told you, as a doctor, I cannot fully tell you your condition. Doctors don't know everything about their patients."

Smiling gratefully, Ryan thanked Driscoll. "That's a long way of saying 'I'm worried'"

Blushing slightly, Lawrence coughed at the remark. Only Ryan Evans could see through all his actions. "Well I'm a doctor after all. Of course I'm worried about my patients."

"I don't see you so worried when you were diagnosing my parents and Sharpay."

Driscoll stared at Ryan and smiled. "Well those aren't serious conditions, are they?"

"Lawrence, isn't angina as serious as a head concussion?" Ryan queried the doctor as he recalled his father mild heart problem he had years ago.

"True." Lawrence admitted, feeling extremely foolish.

Troy rested himself on the sofa, the glass doors opened for better ventilation. Gabriella would be away for a week or more to visit her mother who had lately moved to Dallas. She brought along their little baby girl, Abigail, leaving Troy all alone.

Running his fingers through his dark hair, he took a sip of whiskey from his glass. He was expecting some serious projects from the senior Mr Evans. However things turned out otherwise. Things relating to his department seem to come to a standstill.

He was not certain what was in the head of the managing director. The elder man seemed to have something plotted out in his head and Troy Bolton was not informed about it. His boss might be planning on restructuring the company. The company was doing fine. Better than fine actually. But there was something lacking in their company. Something that made them second best to the Markov Company, a new company that bloomed to full glory in less than four years time.

Picking up his old year book on the glass table, he flipped through those coloured pages. He saw pictures of him in his Wild Cat uniform with his good chums. He was still in close contact with some of them like Chad and Zeke.

Lifting the book a bit higher, something slipped from the pages and landed lightly on his lap. Looking down, he recognized the photo on his lap. It was a photo of him and Ryan, both grinning like merry idiots.

He picked the photo up, recalling all those fun days he had had together with him.

Days that were so full of songs, dances and colours.

Days that he could leave the entire world behind.

Days that Ryan Evans was so close to him that he could smell the sweet musky scent from the fair boy.

Days where their lips came dangerously close.

"Jesus"

A man with dirty blond hair stood poise and still, steel gray eyes fixed on the skyline. Tapping the ashes off from the cigarette placed between his fingers, he exhaled slowly.

Should he call?

He contemplated the question, inhaling deeply, drawing in the rich scent of tobacco and vanilla from the cigarette. He had not collected enough information to deduce anything, but he could certainly see a pattern.

Flicking his cigarette to the tarmac floor, he pressed the heels of his shoes to crush its lighted tip.

Pulling out his cell he dialed and waited for a reply through his earpiece.

"Hello Evans."

"Well hello Thornton. Found something?" Ryan asked casually.

"I need more time. I can't jump to conclusion yet."

"I'm not in a rush for an answer. Take your time. But do you have anything that you want to say to me, other than that?"

"Try to stay alive."

Author: This is a dry chapter, I'm sorry about it. I need to slow down a bit on the crash part and speed up the part between Ryan and Troy, so the following chapters will be more focused on the two of them.