As/n: Everyone, we're not trying to sound mean but, this is a fanFICTION not a fanFACTION (if that's a thing). Please don't worry about the facts in this story. We know exactly what's going on. So please understand, this is our first fanfic and we're young so it's not going to be perfect. We're sorry if this sounded rude, too.
Ryan woke up the next morning to a snoring Mr. Bolton.
Why am I stuck with the adult? Ryan thought bitterly as he slipped out the door, still in his pajamas.
When he reached Jason and Zeke's room he knocked lightly on the door and waited for an answer. He wanted to talk to Zeke and see how the heck he could take Sharpay bossing him around. Minutes passed and he stood in his designer slippers, Drakkar Noir cologne wafting through the halls, and Ryan came to the conclusion no one would answer the door.
His heart sunk as he looked at his watch.
4: 36 AM.
He mindlessly roamed the hallways looking at every picture lining the walls. One was a picture of a woman, finely dressed, giving a pleading look to the man next to her. It was titled "To Say You're Sorry" by some French name Ryan couldn't read to save his life.
Looking at this picture made him shiver. That girl, in his mind, was, of course, Sharpay, her pleading to him for forgiveness. She didn't mean to be so awful. He had let her walk all over her for so long, she didn't know how much it hurt.
His wonderings led him to the lobby, where he could hear low murmurings coming from the front desk.
Edging his way around a potted plant, Ryan snuck closer to the people. He was getting used to sneaking. He was a pro at it. All he had to do was sneak close enough to hear the conversation, not so you could see the people or so they could see you.
He could hear Troy's low murmurs accompanied by a girl, someone Ryan didn't know. Edging closer still, the murmurs became voices and the voice became words.
"…I could kiss you right now," Troy said to the receptionist.
He could whatRyan thought desperately. There was a silence and Troy's voice came again.
"Don't tell anyone about this. No one. Not even Gabriella, especially Gabriella," He told the girl desperately.
"I promise," She said back. "Oh, you should get back to your room. It's 4: 50."
"Right, well, thanks, Monica," Troy said. "By the way," Troy added before turning up to his room, "Your breath smells good."
Ryan gasped as he ran into the hall.
Pressing the up button on the elevator dozens of times, he thought sadly, Oh no. This cannot be happening.
Troy's POV (Well, kind of… we are following Troy right now.)It was 4: 30 in the morning according to the clock next to Troy. Troy couldn't sleep.
He had a bad dream that he was dating Sharpay and Gabriella at the same time and both were attacking him with make-up when he woke up screaming. He received a slap on the head from Chad, who sleepily turned over and fell into a quiet slumber.
As/ n: We are acting like this next part is true. Please don't tell us anything about how they met at New Year's Eve because in this story they didn't… well, they did, but a year before the correct year. We're sorry for sounding rude but there are no rules about factual things in a fanfic.
Troy tried to blank his mind from the dream but then he remembered that he should be remembering something. Something for Gabriella. Then it hit him, on his birthday, last year, Troy and Gabriella started dating.
Bolting up in bed Troy's mind rushed. He forgot to get a present and he knew what would happen if he forgot a gift. Like every girl would, Gabriella would start complaining about how Troy doesn't care about her and that if he doesn't care about her then they should break up.
Hardly aware of the fact he had fallen asleep in a white tee shirt and a pair of plaid boxers, Troy numbly walked out of his room without changing.
Troy couldn't think of anyone who would be up this early in the morning. He didn't even know why he was doing this if he couldn't find help.
Finally, his feet led him towards the lobby, where a small blonde was standing at the receptionist's counter reading People Magazine.
Hearing the pat of Troy's feet on the marble floor's the receptionist's head went up. Under her bright blue eyes, there were heavy bags and ruined mascara.
She yawned and said, "Hi. I'm Monica. Can I help you?"
"Actually," Troy said in an overly happy voice, "You can."
Monica closed magazine and looked over Troy with smiling eyes.
Troy gulped. That's never a good sign. Normally, when a girl would look at him like that they liked him. Troy didn't want her to like him. Not when he was about to ask her about his girlfriend.
"Well, um…hi," Troy said. "I'm Troy."
"Hey, Troy."
"So, what keeps you up this late?" Troy asked, starting a friendly conversation.
"I take the night shift," Monica sighed. "What about you?"
"Oh. I uh, pulled a muscle during basketball practice and I was walking it off," He lied. He wasn't about to tell her the real reason. It was too embarrassing. "What are you taking the night shift for? Don't you have school tomorrow?"
"I dropped out," Monica said as if it was something to be proud of, "Not enough action."
Troy wanted to point out that working in a five-star hotel lobby was very unlikely to get you to see some action but he resisted.
"So you play basketball?" Monica asked, impressed. "Oh. You're the team here for the tournament."
"Yeah," Troy said nervously.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" She leaned towards him batting her eyes and blowing her mint-gum scented breath into Troy's, burning his nostrils.
"Yeah. I have a-a uh, girlfriend. Her name's Gabriella," Troy rambled which immediately made Monica draw back away from him, "An our one year anniversary is in a couple of days and I was hoping you could help me."
"Yeah," She said glumly. "What does she do for fun, any sports or anything?"
"She's on the Scholastic Decathlon team," Troy informed her. When all he got for a reply was a Huh?-look, he said, "She's smart."
Monica snorted, trying to hide it from Troy. "Um…what about a book?"
"She has a million of them. I wanted to get something special," Troy said, looking at his thumbnail.
She had the Oh-what-a-perfect-boyfriend look plastered on her face. Troy had gotten it many times and it was a very annoying look to get.
"What about a picture of you two? Just put it in a frame and wrap it. She'll love it," Monica said, batting her long eyelashes.
"That'd be perfect!" Troy exclaimed. "Oh my God, I could kiss you right now!"
Monica lifted her hand to her head and scratched it. Troy noticed the black fingernail polish on her bitten fingernails. She is starting to creep me out, Troy thought, also noticing a skull on her belt buckle.
Monica laid her hand down on the counter, which "coincidently" landed right on top of Troy's hand. Troy yanked his hand out from under hers and a silence followed, where Monica's piercing eyes stared into Troy's soft gray-blue eyes. Troy directed his gaze towards the nose ring stud and the eyebrow piercing Monica had. This girl is really scary.
Breaking the silence, Troy said desperately, "Don't tell anyone about this. No one. Not even Gabriella, especially Gabriella."
"I promise," She said, raising a scraped up palm in the air, on the other side of her hand there was a small tattoo of a pair of skulls, "Oh, you should get back to your room. It's 4:50."
"Right, well, thanks, Monica," Troy said. He felt he might as well compliment her before he trudge back to his room. It was the least he could do considering she basically saved his relationship, "By the way, your breath smells good," was all he could muster up.
He walked back to the elevators, feeling Monica's gaze follow him there. As he turned the corner, Troy could have sworn that he saw a designer slipper flash out of view, followed but the strong smell of Drakkar Noir. But he figured he was just imagining things.
He was tired, so tired in fact, that the second he pulled his Egyptian cotton sheets over his body, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming about a smiling Gabriella and a happy Troy, with no Sharpay, or make-up, in sight.
As/n: Sorry it's so short and it took so long to get up! R&R!