Title: Ruined Forever (In the Best Way Possible)
Author: Kristen
Date: August 2007
Pairing: Troy/Sharpay
Setting: FutureFic
Rating: T/M for language
Summary: This was not the Sharpay Evans that he knew. This one had mismatched clothes and dirty fingers and ratty hair. She seemed a thousand miles and a million years removed from the Sharpay of Twinkle Towne and East High and Darbus' homeroom. And yet, there was something more beautiful about this version then he could have ever imagined.
Author Note: Here's the chapter where Troy finds out what you already know… that he's headed to Africa. But don't worry, you get to find out stuff too. Thanks so much for the enthusiastic and well-written reviews. If any of you are authors, you know how much they all mean. Seriously. Thank You.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
"So how long have you been with Footprints?"
I swear to God that if this blonde runs her finger up my chest one more time…
"Since the beginning," I replied. "It was actually Andrew, Gabriella and I who started it."
"Oh, really?" She trilled in her accent that once was delightful and now is grating on my nerves. "Tell me about it."
Seriously, Bolton. This isn't worth it. I don't care how much money she has or what British publishing syndicate her father owns, I just can't take it anymore.
I'm about to suddenly get a "very important phone call" when Andrew catches my eye from across the room. The look says all it needs to. That if we're going to go international, we need to make new friends. And that includes blondes with money and wandering fingers.
"Well," I smiled, laying on all of the charm that I could, "it all started during our freshman year of college."
"Do you mean university?"
I paused. I forgot that college meant high school over here. "Yes, university. I apologize." I took the last sip of my martini and signaled to one of the roving waiters to replace it. "It's a little bit complicated, so try to follow me."
The new martini arrived promptly. I need to remember to tip that man.
"I may have too many cosmos in me," she giggled, "but I'll give it my best shot!"
Awesome.
"Well, Gabriella and I have been friends since high school and Andrew and I were college roommates. Andrew and I went to the University of Kentucky and Gabi went to Dartmouth."
"Are those far apart?" she interrupted. "I'm total rubbish with American geography."
I think I'm totally past the point where I can ask her for her name again, which sucks, because I don't remember it at all.
"They're not clear across the country from each other, but they're probably a good two days' drive," I replied. She looked sufficiently amazed and babbled a bit about how big America is and how lost she'd get and I nodded and finished up my third martini of our conversation. When I was pretty sure that she was done, I continued.
"The summer after our freshman year, Gabi had gotten a job as a lifeguard at a camp up by her in New Hampshire and neither Andrew or I had anything lined up, so we signed up as well. I was a basketball coach and Andrew taught horseback riding. That was when Andrew and Gabi started dating, by the way. They got married right after college graduation."
"Even though they lived so far apart?" Now she was shrieking. Or maybe squeeling. I'm not sure which. But she was definitely starting to sound like a pig.
"I know, crazy huh?" I said just a little too cheerfully. "Well, after graduation, they got married and moved to California. Gabi worked for an accounting firm during the day and on her master's degree in business administration at night. Andrew got a low level job in marketing at a movie studio out there. I had gotten my degree in sports management and sales and so I stayed in Lexington and worked for the athletic department at the university."
"Oh wow."
She was running her finger again.
"Andrew had his degree in journalism and had always wanted to work in publishing and so after a few months, he and Gabi approached me about maybe starting up our own magazine. It took about eighteen months to get off the ground and find other people to write the articles and all, but it's basically our baby. And it's all just grown from there!"
"So what do you do for the company?"
"Oh, did I forget to mention that? I'm the photojournalism editor."
There's that giggle again. "How did you get from sport marketing to photojournalism? Have you ever taken a proper course in photography?"
I could really use another martini.
"No, actually, I'm fairly self-taught."
"But you'd never know it by the quality of his work," Gabi interrupted. "He truly has an eye for capturing the world. Gabriella Morales," she extended her hand to the blonde. Gabi's such the professional.
"I'm Felicity Miller, of Miller Publications," the blonde replied as she shook Gabi's hand.
Felicity. Now I remember. Like the show with the girl with the curly hair. I had a girlfriend in college who went through a Felicity on DVD phase. Noel or Ben? Endless questions.
"Troy?" Gabi's voice snapped me back to reality.
"Yes, I'm sorry, you were saying?"
She had quite a bemused smile on her face. "I was just asking Felicity if I could steal you away for a few moments. Andrew needs to see you about something."
"Oh, he does?" I made an intense effort to put dripping sadness into my voice. Hopefully it worked. "Felicity, thanks for the chat, we'll have to meet up again sometime."
"Brilliant," she smiled. I think she was trying to be demure. She failed, but it was a solid effort.
"Gabi, I love you forever," I muttered under my breath when we were a decent distance away.
"Bolton, it is not my fault that some women seem to find you irresistible in a tux. Try and get uglier or something," she whispered back.
"I believe that all women find me irresistible in a tux, Gabi."
She turned, faced me and deadpanned, "Absolutely. How could I have been so blind? Troy, take me now. Wantonly and without reason. I cannot resist you." She rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand. "Seriously, my husband wants to see you and your ego in the next room."
"Oh, so that wasn't just a saving back there?"
"If you were only so lucky. Nope, he really has something to run by you."
"Please let it be that I get to cover the World Cup this year," I begged the sky.
We wove through the crowd of well dressed and well to do people that had gathered at Edinborough Castle for the Miller Press Syndicate Annual Awards Banquet. I was still unclear as to how the three of us had snagged an invite, as Footprints wasn't a part of Miller and we weren't exactly well to do, but invited we were. So the three of us dolled ourselves up and came to hobnob with the beautiful people.
Gabi caught me looking at a particularly beautiful person right before we got to Andrew.
"Way to get your head in the game, there, slugger. Always knew I could count on you," she muttered.
"What!?" I muttered back, cautious that no one would hear us. "Did you see her ass? It was basically a work of art."
"I'm sure it was the work of someone."
I'm done with Gabi for the night. Where's Andrew and what does he want?
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
"I'm sorry, I'm going where?"
"Kenya. You're going to Kenya. Next month, actually."
I took a deep breath and stared at the itinerary in my hand. "Andrew, when I told you that I'd go anywhere, you understood that I meant anywhere with running water, right?"
He chuckled. "They have running water in Kenya, Troy. It's the 21st century there, too."
"Sure it is."
We were sitting in a small alcove of the castle, fairly secluded from the rest of the party. When Gabi had even left us alone, I knew that he had something fairly serious to ask me. I had no idea that it had been that he wanted me to move to Africa for a month.
"Listen, Troy," his eyes suddenly got very serious. "Remember when we first started the magazine? We said that we were going to tell whole stories and whole truths no matter how painful they are?"
"Of course I remember that."
"People are dying over there, friend. They're dying from a disease that they think is caused by witchcraft. They're dying because they don't have access to clean water. Bono hasn't just been blowing smoke for all these years, you know. There's serious stuff going on over there," he paused and ran his fingers through his hair. "I want the world to see what's going on through your lens. You tell stories with that contraption better than any words I could write. Please, Troy."
I connected eyes with the man who had more or less been my brother for over a decade. I knew all of his smiles and all of his expressions and I certainly knew the tones of his voice. And the one he was using right now was the "seriously, don't screw with me, I'm smarter and richer than you, but I will beg to make you do what I want". I'm fairly familiar with it.
A whole month living in dirt? Being away from the world? Taking pictures of dying people? He's going to owe me for this.
"Fine," I sigh. "How's it going to work?"
He smiled and clapped me on the back. "I just finalized the details with our Kenyan contact today. You'll be working primarily with the Nairobi chapter of Oxfam, the charity based out of England. Your contact's name is Yusef and he's Kenyan, but he told me today that one of his associates, who is American, has agreed to take you under her wing and be your personal guide. You'll probably end up shadowing her for most of the time."
"And what kind of stuff do they do?"
"They primarily deal with HIV/AIDS patients and all those who are both affected and effected by the disease. They help with job training and microfinance loans. I know they work with a lot of other organizations in the area of Nairobi that they're in."
"Is Nairobi the capital?"
"Yeah."
I nodded and took it all in. "Are there books I should read or movies I could watch? You know, for culture studies or something. I don't know the first thing about Kenya."
Andrew nodded. "I know that Gabi's got a whole shelf full of African books, so you can raid hers when we get back home. As for movies, there are quite a few. Yusef even mentioned that you should watch Constant Gardener before you come because it takes place primarily where you'll be working."
"Right then," I said. "And where am I living?"
"The Gracia Guest House in downtown Nairobi," Andrew replied. "Meals are provided and I'm told that it's very nice. There's even internet access."
"So I can send pictures home to you," I grinned.
He matched my grin. "That's the plan, partner.
"And I leave?"
"August 1st."
"Right, about a month, then."
"Just enough time to get all of your shots," Andrew replied as he patted me on the back and got up and walked away.
"Wait, you never said anything about shots," I called after him. "Andrew! Get your ass back here! ANDREW!"
Bastard.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&