Hey guys! I had more reviews last time, but still not as many as I had had for earlier chapters. -shrug- I still enjoy writing them, so I'm going to keep going.

Thanks to everyone who did review, and to everyone who read them. I love you all!

On with the next One-shot!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Theme: Reunion.

Oh! One more thing. I know that a lot of you were unsatisfied with the ending from the last one-shot. So this is a SEQUEL to the last one (leaving). So it is still a one-shot, but now it is a sequel one-shot. Enjoy!

---

It had been three years. Three long, excruciating years. He had not seen, nor spoken to her in that entire time. So he was left to contemplate. What if he had called her more when he was on the road? What if he had followed her, and shown her that he couldn't live without her? Couldn't he have down something? Anything?

And if he had, where would they be now? Dating still? Engaged? Married?

He wasn't completely clueless about her life now. Chad had kept him informed, because of his close ties with Taylor. Close ties, Troy thought bitterly to himself, they're married!

Chad and Taylor had—strangely enough—eloped. When Chad had proposed, Taylor had shed light on the whole thing for him. She thought large weddings were impractical, especially if they wanted to live comfortably. They could use the would-be wedding money on something like an apartment, or a nice vacation. But its seemed silly to use it all on one day.

Chad agreed, and so they had had a small service, with only their parents and siblings in attendance.

Troy wasn't offended that they hadn't invited him. He understood that Chad and Taylor wanted something very small.

The only thing that had disappointed him about the whole affair was the fact that he couldn't see Gabriella at the service.

But that had been a year ago. No use dwelling on it now.

At the age of twenty-four, he was beginning to wonder if he was completely insane. He wouldn't doubt it.

His NBA career had kept him much more than occupied. But there was still something missing in his life. And he knew exactly what it was. Early in his career, when he and Gabriella were still together, Troy had an almost perfect career. He still played well, but nothing like he used to.

She was a researcher now, for NASA. She was almost as busy as he was, and she didn't get to visit Chad and Taylor as much as she would like. At least that is what he heard from Chad. So she lived near NASA headquarters, and she was busy.

The rest of her life was shaded from him. Dark, and blank, and mysterious.

Until that day. He hadn't seen her in three years. He had a general idea of where she lived—he had looked up NASA up online, to figure out where equally the HQs were. She was living in Washington D.C. But it wasn't like he could just show up there. Not after three years.

He had an upcoming series in New York. Troy knew he shouldn't be dwelling on this Gabriella issue. It often threw off his game, if he allowed himself to think about it. It was just… It had been three years since things had fallen apart, to the day.

Three years since the day she left him. He shivered again. It was that feeling he got whenever he thought about her. That cold, empty feeling.

---

After the team flight, they took a limo to their hotel—the Plaza.

The team was enthusiastic about the upcoming series, expecting a win. So they were slightly rowdy while they made it up to their rooms. Troy, however, just slowly trudged after them.

He was still in deep thought about the whole Gabriella situation. But he didn't want to play poorly in tomorrow's game. He had to snap out of it.

A teammate had noticed he had fallen behind. "You okay?" He asked Troy.

He shrugged it off. "Yeah, fine."

The teammate (who was around Troy's age, and named Luke) looked unsure, but continued up to his room.

Troy decided he didn't want to sit in his room with nothing to do, so he decided to take a walk. He put on sunglasses, and tucked his hair under his hat, so that he was a little less recognizable.

The thing about having sunglasses on inside though, is that its hard to see where you are going.

He collided, head on, into a young woman.

Papers scattered everywhere, and Troy knew that the girl must have been carrying a folder or something of the like.

Troy bent down, to help her pick them up. She quickly gathered the papers into a pile, and let out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm never going to get these back in order!"

Troy recognized the voice and froze. "Gabriella?"

Gabriella stopped shuffling the papers. Troy lifted his sunglasses, and saw a look of panic on her face.

"Troy?"

Gabriella quickly shuffled her papers together, and though all the ends were facing strange directions, and it was more of a mess than it was a pile.

"I've, uh, gotta go."

She rushed to pick up her unsightly pile, and then quickly stood up.

"Gabriella, wait,"

"Troy, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get these organized. I have an important meeting tomorrow, and I really need to get these in order."

Troy couldn't let this chance get away from him. He had to be able to talk to her. "I could help you," he offered. Please say yes, please say yes.

Gabriella frowned. She appeared to be having an internal battle. Troy's guess was that she could really use the help, but didn't want it to be from him.

"Well…" She sighed. "I could really use the help…"

"Done."

---

That's how he found himself sitting at a little table in the hotel's restaurant, sipping coffee, sifting through papers.

"So all the ones from the month of April go in this pile," Gabriella explained. "The ones from May, here, and June, here." As she said as this, she was pointing to spots on the table.

Troy nodded, and grabbed part of the unruly paper mess in front of him.

"So, uh," he began, "How have you been?" He didn't look up, and kept his eyes on his paper pile.

"I've been good. Busy. Yeah. Busy. Really busy." She sounded so nervous.

"Yeah, I know how that is." He paused. "So you've, uh, been good then?"

"Yeah. I have. Um," she stuttered.

"Yeah?" Troy asked.

"Never mind," she said. "So, uh, you've… you've been good?"

"Um. Well. Relatively speaking."

"Oh… Did something happen?"

"Well I—"

Troy was interrupted by a girl who must have been in her late teens, early twenties.

"Ohmygosh!" She said in one breath. "You're Troy Bolton!"

"Uh, yeah?" Troy said.

"O- M- G!" She yelled. Troy winced. Didn't people realize how… lame it was to use internet slang out loud? "Can I, like, have your autograph?"

Troy, being used to this kind of thing, said, "Uh, yeah, sure. Do you have a pen?"

The girl nodded and pulled out a permanent marker.

"Well, what would you like me to sign?"

The girl, much to Troy's chagrin, pulled down her top slightly. Not enough so that her… breasts… were exposed. But enough so that it was awkward.

"I, uh," He shot a look at Gabriella, who was rolling her eyes, and gathering her papers.

Wait. Gathering her papers?

"I'll see you later Troy," She said, and walked off with her stack.

The fan just stood there, waiting for her autograph.

Troy took the marker, and—wincing—signed the body part quickly.

He laid a twenty on the table for the coffees (it was the smallest bill he had, and he wasn't about to wait for change), and ran off towards the direction Gabriella had gone.

But she was already gone.

---

He wanted to bang his head against the wall. Smash his face into the counter. Do something to make him look like how he felt. He laid down on the hotel bed—it was almost ten thirty at night. Several hours since she had rushed off. And he had screwed himself over. Actually, he thought bitterly, it was that girl's fault. It felt good to blame someone. Especially someone who deserved it.

Then he got an idea. He quickly sat up, and dialed the number to the front desk.

He never used his status to manipulate a situation, but just this once… Besides, it was important.

"Hi, this is Troy Bolton."

"…" Troy listened for a moment as the concierge said something.

"Yes, that Troy Bolton."

"…"

"Well, I was wondering if you could please tell me what room number one Gabriella Montez was staying.

"…"

"I know it isn't a normal practice, but we had coffee earlier, and she accidentally took something that belonged to me."

"…"

"Of course I can get you an autograph, sir."

"…"

"The ninth floor? Room 125?"

"…"

"Thank you so much. And I'll personal bring you that autograph right after I run this errand."

"…"

"Thanks, you too. Bye."

Troy didn't bother to change. He was in some flannel pajama bottoms (his lucky ones) and a white wife-beater.

He was at the pent house, on the fifteenth floor. He didn't even bother with the elevator, and took the stairs.

He didn't pound on her door, so to speak, but he was definitely knocking forcefully.

That's when she slowly opened the door.

She had her wallet in her hands, as if preparing to tip. She was wearing some pink shorts, and a pink zip up, with a white tee-shirt underneath.

And she looked like a deer caught in headlights at that minute.

"Troy? What are you doing here?" She looked nervous.

There were some people quickly making their way down the hall way, and Troy panicked. He didn't want to be spotted by fans just now. That is why Gabriella had left before. He didn't want that to happen.

So carefully, Troy pushed the door open, and let himself in.

"Troy, what are you—"

Troy shook his head, and put a finger to his lips. With the other hand, he pointed to the people in the hall that were quickly approaching.

Gabriella's mouth formed a delicate 'o' but she stepped aside, allowing him entrance.

She quickly shut the door and turned around.

"You can't just show up at people's—"

"What, Gabriella? At people's hotel rooms?"

She flushed slightly, with embarrassment. "Yes, at people's hotel rooms!"

He wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. But he knew this was not the time to laugh.

His voice got soft. "Well, I had to talk to you somehow. I mean, you ran off earlier, before we got a chance to—"

"To what, Troy? Catch Up? Make awkward small talk? Did you really want to have to go through that? Come on, think about it."

Troy looked at her seriously. He didn't have to think about it. Raising his voice slightly, he said, "Of course I wanted to go through that Gabriella! Come on! Maybe you forgot. Maybe it didn't mean anything to you. Maybe you were glad to find a way out. But I didn't. I didn't forget. I don't plan on forgetting. Don't you understand that? I'd rather make awkward small talk with you any day if it meant that I got to see you."

Gabriella looked up at him. Her voice was low, and stiff and serious.

"Do you think I could forget Troy? Do you think I could forget if I tried? Do you know how it feels to walk out on the one person that means the world to you, because they stopped caring?" She was breaking down, and her voice was cracking. "Do you know how it feels to try and get your life back in order? To try to move on? To be in a relationship—for a year, mind you—just desperately trying to make things work, but in the end they don't, because you still aren't over your ex?" She was sobbing now. "Talk to me about forgetting after you have, okay?"

Troy closed his eyes tightly, and sighed. He had made her cry. He hated making her cry.

Her words stung. He knew he had been the cause of everything. It was his fault. The way she was talking now… it sounded like she was filling the same way he was. Distressed, destroyed, and damaged.

She was sobbing now, so Troy took the chance, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. She cried into his chest.

"Shhh, it'll be okay," he said comfortingly into her hair. "It's gonna be okay."

She was sobbing hard, and tried to say something, but it only came out as a muffled mess.

Troy pulled her away from him slightly, at a shoulders length. He looked into her eyes, and as cheesy as it was, he was searching for something. Some hint that she had been as unhappy as he had.

"Troy, why now?" She said through tears. "Why did you have to show up now?"

"Why not now?"

She slowly walked over to the bed and sat down. He could tell that she was exhausted.

"Well, I met someone."

"Oh," Troy said. He didn't know if he could take what she was about to say.

"And we were dating. We dated for a year Troy."

"Oh," Troy said, knowing he was sounding more defeated every second.

"And you know what? He broke up with me yesterday."

Troy didn't know whether to kill this guy, or kiss him. On one hand, he had hurt Gabriella. On the other hand, he made her single again. "Oh."

"And do you know why? He said that "couldn't be the second most important guy in my life" anymore. Do you know who he said was the first?"

Troy had trouble finding his voice. "Who?"

"You."

Troy's heart felt like it was about to burst. Could that mean…?

He looked at her again, and she was looking ashamed, and sad, and hurt. He rushed to her side.

"Gabriella, I'm so sorry that I ever, ever made you feel like that. Like I didn't love you. The truth is, I've been miserable without you. I'm sorry that I made things so bad that you felt like you had to walk out on me. I'm sorry that it felt like I threw everything away. I didn't. I swear to you. And I'm willing to take every moment of the rest of our lives to make it up to you. Just don't walk out on me again. Please, don't walk out. I couldn't take it. Not again."

Gabriella looked at him, with so much hurt in her eyes. But there was something else too. There was something that made Troy's heart soar. There was hope.

She threw her arms around him and cried.

"I love you Gabi, I love you so much."

And somehow, even though she didn't say anything, he knew that she felt the same. He knew that things were going to be okay.

---

Woah. Can you say long? Hope you enjoyed it. I played with a few options on here. Like having them not end up together. But I couldn't do that—especially after most of them had been sad lately.

And I preferred the idea of an individual and personal reunion, as opposed to, like, a public reunion or something. Like a high school reunion. So I hope you liked it, and I hope the length made up for the last one.

Love,

Monica