Author's Note: Writer's block is getting me down. Like majorly. But inspiration has come a-knocking on my door. We are moving towards a climax, people!

Disclaimer: I don't own HSM. I'll admit that I'm glad I don't. Honestly, I love it with all my heart, but there's no artistic integrity. It can be so commercial. Especially the second mov- but look at me getting all pretentious! I've watched RENT too many times. Never mind. I DO own The Hedlunds, though. Coz I created them. I guess I'm kind of like their manager. This is the longest disclaimer ever…

Chapter 12

The Great Conductor

Sharpay

"Do I look all right, Gabriella? Not that it matters, of course. But do I?"

"For the thousandth time, you look fine. You look fine with capital letters and an exclamation point."

"Okay. You sure?"

"Mum!"

Despite the exasperated tone, Sharpay thought it all very sweet. She had been requested to critique Mrs. Montez's outfit choices. So far she had gone through five. She looked pretty in all of them but the woman could not be satisfied. It was like she wanted Sharpay to tell her she looked hideous.

"I look like an ogre." She observed herself from all angles in the full-length mirror. Ensemble #6 was a light green sweater and black skirt, with little black boots recommended by her daughter until further notice. "A hideous ogre."

"You don't."

"I do. The skirt makes my butt look big and my hair is all-"

Sharpay turned her round firmly so that they were face-to-face. "You-look-great. You're a hot sexy latina mama, all right?" Mrs. Montez laughed nervously in response. "Besides…you'll only see him for like twenty minutes."

"See who?"

"See who." She chuckled wryly. "Mr. Alman, that's who!"

Mrs. Montez suddenly looked like she had been caught at the scene of a crime. "Gabriella, I am not getting dressed up for Mr. Alman. I'm not getting dressed up for anybody. I swear."

She smiled. "It's okay. I wouldn't mind if you were getting dressed up for somebody. Certainly not for Mr. Alman."

"You wouldn't?"

"Nope." She brushed imaginary dust of her shoulders and turned her back around. "He's cute for an old dude. And he seems nice. I say he's worth the effort."

A small smile began to light up her anxious reflection. "You know, you're…different of late, Gabriella. Your attitude."

She made a face. "You think so, huh?" Mrs. Montez nodded and Sharpay grinned discreetly. "So do you prefer this Gabbie or the old one?" In other words, did she prefer Gabriella or Sharpay.

She beamed her magical supermum beam. "I love you, whoever you chose to be."

A smirk played on her lips. She so preferred Sharpay.

"Well, let's get going. We don't want to keep the Almans waiting…"

Gabriella

"Ryan, you cannot come with me to the Alman's!"

"Why not?"

"You're not involved in the fundraiser."

"I could be. I should be. I'm half of the Drama Club, aren't I? The Drama King?"

"And you want Gabriella to be your Queen?" she mocked in her best Sharpaic manner.

"She already is a Queen. Just not mine."

She was so touched by his schmaltzy romanticism that she almost forgot to be ruthless. If only he were more assertive…

Gabriella blinked herself out of the revelry. No. She had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who made her very happy.

Seriously. Who wouldn't be happy with Troy? He was so cute and warm and…stuff. They didn't exactly have deep, soul-stirring conversations long into the night (that was what Fate had given her Ryan for, wasn't it?), but what they lacked in rhetoric they made up for in hand-holding. What did Troy and Sharpay talk about anyway?

"So can't I come? Help me, Sharpay. Help me make Gabriella my Queen!"

She suppressed a laugh at his imploring gaze. "Stop being overdramatic."

He snorted. "Well, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black then I don't know what is."

Gabbie settled a hand on her hip. "There's only room for one household appliance, Ry. Sorry."

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek tentatively. If he knew who she was this would probably cheer him greatly. As it were, she was Sharpay, and the gesture only seemed to make him gloomier.

And so it was with a heavy heart that Gabriella set off to rescue her mother.

Sharpay

"Encore, encore!"

Sharpay sounded rather lame, cheering all by her lonesome, but she didn't really care.

The Hedlunds were great. They had a cool sixties, early seventies sound that meshed well with Marie's strange voice. She sang in a lilting sort of whisper really. It was nothing to knock Simon Cowell onto his hairy English back, but engaging all the same.

Sharpay stood up from the comfortably shabby couch she had been reclining in.

"You are so hired."

Marie grinned and brushed a curl off her forehead. "Great! So what's our set?"

Sharpay took out her very business-like, glittery magenta party-planning book and began to write down the songs she liked. They were all so damn catchy, she felt spoiled for choice.

Another cause for Sharpay's unusually cheery mood was that Mrs. Montez and Mr. Alman were in the house right now, talking about politics and schools and how there were no cool places for old people like themselves to hang out anymore. She knew this because she had eavesdropped on them while getting soda from the fridge.

Sharpay smiled a little to herself. She was certain she had done the right thing from the moment they shook hands. The way they looked at each other…it made her all warm and fuzzy inside.

Take that, GABBIE!

"I am so hungry!" Ronnie exclaimed, stuffing her drumsticks into the pocket of her cargo pants. "I could eat a bass guitar."

Kim clutched her instrument protectively. "For the love of God, Marie! Get us something to eat!"

"All right, all right, I'm on it."

They strolled out of the garage, over to the house. As Marie turned the door knob, a black SUV crept up into the drive. They all turned to look back.

Sharpay's face fell. She didn't. She wouldn't. And yet there was no room for doubt. This was her own mother's car. And out of it climbed her own mother, followed by her own body, in which Gabriella dwelled.

She rolled her eyes as Gabbie strolled towards them, her red heels click-clacking on the pavement.

"Hey, girls!" she said sweetly.

Sharpay gritted her teeth. She so never talked like that.

Gabriella

Gabbie knew Sharpay that would be ticked off at her for this, and it was physically impossible for her to care less. The Drama Queen had no business pushing other people's mothers into relationships they clearly were not ready for.

Mrs. Evans had jumped at the chance to give her a ride to the house. She was all hot and bothered for Mr. Alman and obviously did not think marriage was any cause for monogamy. This was how a new facet to Gabbie's sabotage was conceived. There could be no better spanner to throw in the works than an attractive, middle-aged society mistress. It reeked of irony that this was Sharpay's own mother and that Gabriella herself was taking on very Sharpaic traits. Although she would be a lot slower to pick this up.

"Hey, girls," she squealed as she walked over to them, Mrs. Evans on her heels.

Two of the girls, a pretty African-American with hair reminiscent of Chad's and a red-head with handsome features, waved at her uncertainly. Marie Alman just blinked and the Sharpay in her body scowled.

"I don't remember you being invited. Sharpay."

She beamed. "Aw, I don't need to be invited! I'm the co-party planner, aren't I?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" she said, through gritted teeth.

"Now, now, girls!" Mrs. Evans burst in. She wore a peach empire-line dress Gabbie had picked out for her with gold heels. Very flattering. "There's no need for nastiness!" She extended a hand to Marie. "And you must be Marie. I've heard a lot about you. Oh, I am loving your shirt."

It was a vintage brown T with a fading gold logo. Nothing special. And the look on Marie's face confirmed that she knew a brown-noser when she saw one.

Sharpay looked embarrassed, and Gabriella (forgetting this was not her mother for a moment) felt the same. So she talked.

"Are we going in or what?" she chirped.

Marie shrugged, opened the door, and they filed in after her.

Gabbie's stomach churned at the sound of her mother's sudden burst of laughter. Great. They were hanging out. What could he possibly say that was so hilarious?

They all filled in the kitchen, a comfortably sized room with marble counters and a kitchen island, at which Mrs. Montez and Mr. Alman sat, each resting an arm on the surface. Oh God. They were mirroring.

"More guests," said Marie, barely trying to sound excited. The two turned to them, big cheesy grins on their faces.

"Sharpay, Mrs. Evans," Mr. Alman said in his gravelly tones, lighter with laughter. "Good to see you again.

"It's good to see you, too Michael." She strolled over to him and took his hand purposefully, seeming to forget that Mrs. Montez was there.

She reminded her by clearing her throat. "Uh…we've met before, haven't we?"

"Only in passing." And Mrs. Evans gave what looked like a very feeble handshake.

Mr. Alman glanced between them. "Well…I was just asking Lola to stay for lunch. Would you like to join us? It'll be good mum-bonding time."

She gave him a disarming smile. "Well, of course, I will! I'd love to join you. And Lola."

The four other girls shot looks at Gabriella as Sharpay. She stared around aimlessly, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

Suddenly, she didn't feel so good.

A/N: The chapter would be TOO long if I tried to fit in the luncheon. So look forward to that awkward event in lucky Chapter 13.

And I thought a bit of a role reversal would be interesting. Gabbie as the bad guy, Sharpay as the goodie. Don't worry Gabbie fans, she's not going to go all dark side on us. She's just overprotective of her mum.

Review please! Even if you think my writing's taken a nose dive in the time between Chapter X and Chapter 12, say so! Constructive is the key.