Prepare yourself: longest chapter of this story. o.0 And probably, most dramatic. But I won't give it all away here. Just wanted to say thank you to my lovely reviewers, because guess what? My biggest amount of reviews for any story has been 20, for a long time, (I know, I know not a lot) and finally you guys help me beat it! Whoo! New personal record! :D So, thank you very much.

I hope you enjoy this chapter - and I also hope this helps you decide which side you ...well, side with. ;)

-ssn

Nothing Still

Part Five

The sight and sound of him made Gabriella crack all over again.

Troy shifted in his seat and swallowed, visibly. She knew she shouldn't be here—she should just turn and walk out. But at the same time, it was too late. Gabriella was here now, wrapped up in Troy's presence, stuck and vulnerable. Her stomach churned and Gabriella had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting. Troy watched her, still stunned and unsure of what to do. Gabriella slowly slid down to the floor, burying her head in her hands.

"Gabriella," he began, softly, "what are you doing here?"

She looked up, distraught. "I came to see you get married," she spoke calmly. Gabriella bowed her head again. The words felt like the vomit she'd nearly spewed as they left her lips. She was such a hypocrite.

She didn't move for a while, so Troy tested the waters.

"You should get off the floor—your dress might get ruined." He slid over a little and patted the spot next to himself. "Here, sit by me. Haven't had a conversation with Gabriella Montez in ages," he smiled softly, almost tiredly.

As Gabriella glanced up to him, and moved to sit where he requested, she realized something. All those old feelings hit her like a tidal wave—painful and distressing, but cool enough to drain her guilt's heat. Because she understood then exactly why she still loved him.

She seated herself beside Troy. Breathing was difficult, but she didn't let on. Gabriella's eyes danced over him, taking in every inch. He was in his suit and tie, a white rose in the jacket pocket. His soft hair flapped over his eyes: characteristically Troy. And he smelled like an ocean breeze. For a brief moment, Gabriella envisioned herself laying his arms, on the hot sand in Hawaii. It passed before she could grab it and make it stay.

"You look pretty," she said, at a loss for words. Troy laughed, quietly. The sound filled her soul—god, how she missed it.

"Thanks. You too."

She shook her head and picked at her dress. "Actually, I look like a mess, but," she glanced his way with a small smile, "that's never bothered you." Gosh, what was she saying? Why was she talking this way to him? She wanted to stop, but she didn't even know how she had started.

Troy smiled back and looked down.

"Naturally beautiful women don't need dressing up," he spoke softly.

"Well, your fiance is pretty dolled up if you ask me," she laughed, lightly. What are you insinuating, she asked herself harshly.

"I haven't seen her yet, but I'm sure she looks beautiful in whatever she's wearing. Heck, I'd marry her in a t-shirt and jeans," he laughed. Gabriella could have glared, but that would ruin this moment—and she couldn't forsake that.

"Jeans at the altar: classy."

He chuckled at her. "Hey, I wanted to elope—but Shar thought we should have a nice ceremony, so—"

"You surrendered?" she joked, but it was only a joke to Troy. He tsked at her with a smile. "Sorry," she held up her hands, "I'm with you on this one."

He nodded, "I think that a wedding should only be for two people who love each other. Everyone else can stuff it." Troy looked at her slyly. But she didn't reprimand him or poke fun, like he expected. She just stared.

"I couldn't agree more."

He smiled and glanced away. "Hey," Gabriella said softly, touching his knee for a moment too long. Troy looked back at her, brows very slightly curved in. Gabriella gave him a genuine smile. "Will you play with me one last time?"

Gabriella slid around on the bench so that now she faced the piano. Troy grinned when he finally got it. He nodded and repeated her action. They poised their fingers over the keys.

"What should we play?" he asked.

Instead of voicing her opinion, Gabriella simply stroked the keys. It was the song that first brought them together.

They met at a college party. It was very tame, under the circumstances; the so-called 'nerds' Gabriella associated with had organized a nice gathering. It was held in someone's house—a big, cashmere living room with a grand piano. Gabriella's friends had learned from high school stories that she used to play. They urged her to entertain everyone. Reluctantly, she agreed.

She had just sat down and cracked her knuckles when Troy walked in the room. Gabriella was surprised that he had been invited: she'd never met him through her friends, and by the looks of it, he surely wasn't typical 'nerd' type. She played a complicated tune, just to show off. But in the midst of the song, Troy's friends pushed him towards the piano too. Gabriella was annoyed at this: it was her moment to shine and this guy was surely going to screw it up. But he sat next to her and miraculously followed her melody, spicing the sound with complementary notes. It sounded better than Gabriella could have imagined.

And as they relived the memory, now, Gabriella realized the song only sounded magical when they played together. In fact, nothing in her life sounded right without Troy's accompaniment. He was her missing puzzle piece—and just yesterday, she'd realized that while he fit with her, he belonged to a different puzzle altogether. Gabriella hit the keys harder—she couldn't let it end this way. There had to be something she could do to turn it all around.

Her heart was banging against her ribcage when the song ended.

"Hey," Troy said, unaware of her current disposition, "I still got it, huh?"

Suddenly, Gabriella threw herself in his direction. She grabbed his face, but Troy quickly threw her hands off and jumped away from the bench before she could go any further. Humiliated, Gabriella's cheeks burned red.

"Gabriella," he all but barked, incredulously, "what was that?"

She shook her head viciously, as tears sprung from her eyes. She glared up at him. "You can't marry her, Troy." He gaped at her, speechless.

"What the he—"

"I'm still in love with you, okay! Can't you see that?"

Now, it was Troy's cheeks that turned bright red. He looked away from her and ran his fingers through his hair. Oh, god, she thought, what now? What have I done? But the harder her guilt slapped her, the more she wanted to rebel.

"Gabriella..." he searched for the right words—were there any? "Why didn't you tell me? Why … why did you let this go on for so long?" His tone grew frustrated. "Why are you telling me this on my wedding day, for Christ's sake?"

"I didn't have another choice—Troy, please, just look at me," she said thickly, tears streaming down her hardened face. He didn't even hear her, he paced the room angrily.

"What am I supposed to do with that? Am I supposed to be relieved?" Gabriella trembled from the guilt and rage swarming her blood. He zipped around and glared at her. "Why would you do this to me? Right now is the worst moment you could've chosen!"

She shook her head, "Please, just-just come with me! We'll leave this all behind," she got out of her seat and rushed towards him. She couldn't believe the words were coming from her mouth. Troy stared at her like he had never heard something so heartless in his life.

"Gabriella!" he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a shake. "My fiance is in the other room—I love her. I'm getting married in twenty minutes!"

He was saying these things, but none of it made sense to her. "No," she moaned, "you can't."

Gabriella pulled his face towards hers in a desperate attempt to win. This time, Troy couldn't stop her. She brought her lips to his and kissed him languidly. But only a few seconds later, Troy pushed her away once more.

It was not soon enough.

Suddenly, the two whipped around to see Ryan Evans standing in the doorway, stunned and glaring. Troy shook his head and had left Gabriella without a glance back. He stopped in front of Ryan.

"This isn't what it looks like," his voice was laced in frustration and desperation. Ryan was unmoved. "I love Sharpay and I want to marry her. I don't even know how she got in here— and I swear, I swear I didn't kiss her back."

Gabriella gasped. Now he only referred to her as she? In one blow, she had finally been broken. This time, she knew it was beyond repair. Gabriella suddenly felt dizzy, like the room was a spinning vortex and it was taking her for a ride. One breath later, she collapsed to her knees.

Ryan was all but growling at Troy. "Oh, you didn't kiss her back, but you did kiss her? You want Shar and a side-piece, huh? You're a sleaze, Bolton!"

Troy let each vile word roll off his back. He pushed Ryan's chest and ran past him. He didn't need to explain anything to him. In fact, he ran to find Sharpay and tell her what went down. Troy was going to be honest, and straight up, even if meant trouble for him.

But Ryan was not the same type of guy. He was teeming with anger. He immediately came after Troy. He jumped on his back and they plummeted to the floor.

"Get off me, Evans!" Troy barked. But then Ryan punched him in the jaw. Troy's head flew to the side. Now, he was mad.

The two broke out into a fist fight, wrestling each other viciously. Ryan was winning; he sat on Troy and socked him left and right, left and right. From all the commotion, Sharpay came rushing in.

"Oh my God, Ryan! Get off—get off!" she cried.

Troy used the moment to his advantage. He rammed his palm into Ryan's stomach. The blow took the wind out of Ryan and he fell back. Troy pushed him away and stood up. His nose and lips were bleeding. The two glowered at each other for a beat of unbearable silence. Sharpay pulled Troy into her arms.

Possessed by her rampant emotions, Gabriella stepped out into the hall.

Troy took one look at her and his nostrils flared. He pulled away from Sharpay and staggered somewhere down the hall. Sharpay glanced at Gabriella, gaping.

"What happened?"

Gabriella closed her eyes and took a long breath. "I kissed him." The tears came once again.

"W-what?" she whimpered.

"I was so—I just—I lost my mind for a moment and I kissed him," Gabriella held her fingers to her mouth and choked back a sob. Sharpay's jaw clenched. "Please, I'm so sorry—let me help, I'll do anything!"

She started forward, but Sharpay's deep glare stopped her. Swiftly, she turned away and ran after Troy. Gabriella lost it then.

Everything went black and she passed out.

And not even Ryan could catch her.

-x-x-x-

When Gabriella finally stirred, she had a pounding headache and frizzy hair.

Somehow, she'd mucked all the good in her life up and all that was left were ragged strings. She was intact physically, but the damage she had done to her heart seemed irrevocable. Why did she kiss him? Why did she beg Troy to run away with her? Gabriella hadn't even been intoxicated. A powerful, unknown force captivated her being and led her on a wild vendetta. And while actual alcohol was absent in her system—she was drunk off her extreme emotions. Drunken words were sober thoughts, she knew, but she didn't truly want anything she pleaded and cried for.

In fact, all she really wanted now was alcohol.

Maybe if she consumed enough, she'd pass out once more and forget any of this had ever happened.

Slowly, Gabriella's eyes fluttered open. She breathed in long and hard, and the thumping of a migraine began. For a brief moment, Gabriella didn't know where she was. Then her fingers curled in and she felt someone's presence. She was on Sharpay's dressing room couch, lying on a man's warm chest. Disillusioned, Gabriella shifted her chin up further and she saw that this man was, in fact, Ryan. He had his arm wrapped around her loosely and his chin tucked into his neck, snoozing.

Why was she here—why were they here, sleeping, when Gabriella had a epic apology to make? She sat up, away from Ryan's embrace and blinked, dazed. Ryan reacted instantly and shot his eyes open almost comically.

"Hey," he said, his voice thick with sleep. "Sleeping beauty has returned to life."

Gabriella sighed. She was the furthest thing from beautiful. After her actions today she was Sleeping Ugly. And Sleeping Backstabber. She untucked her feet and stretched them out in front of herself.

"What happened after … um, after I...?" she wasn't apt on delving into it. Ryan now readjusted himself too.

"They got married."

"What?" She was shocked. "When? Where was I? Is it over?"

"Yeah," Ryan nodded, softy. "The two talked and cleaned up Troy's face—then everything went on as planned." He didn't seem sorry that he'd punched Troy. Did he know it was Gabriella who'd kissed him?

That was the least of her concerns at that moment, though. She hadn't broken them up, that hit her first. But instead of feeling remorse and self-pity, a new feeling emerged. Relief. Maybe she hadn't destroyed everything. Her friendship with the two, yes. Her sense of respect and dignity, plenty. But not their love. Despite her betrayal, their feelings for each other remained strong.

She almost smiled at the thought. But then, the self-sorrow swept in. She had missed the wedding. Because of her foolishness, stupidity, and downright treachery, she lost the chance to witness a simple show of love. All Gabriella had wanted was that. And in battling to retrieve it, she forgot to look around. Troy and Sharpay shared with each other what Gabriella desired, and instead of rejoicing in it—she set out to ruin it. If she had just let go of what-used-to-be, she could have enjoyed a different type of love. She could have had the friendship she'd forsaken returned.

But now, that was impossible.

Gabriella glanced at Ryan.

"I still have you, don't I?" she asked timidly. Ryan frowned a little. Gabriella had been lost in thought for at least ten minutes, and when she resurfaced, he had no itinerary to base her previous question off. Ryan wasn't aware of the origin of the request, but he already knew the answer.

"There's nothing you could do to lose me."

Gabriella gazed at him. "But what I did was wrong. I kissed him, Ryan. And it wasn't an accident. I wanted to, and I did."

Ryan sighed, "I agree—it was completely stupid of you. But neither of us are proud of our actions today." Gabriella winced.

"Which one was worse, do you think?" Gabriella watched him weakly. "The fact that I kissed my best friend's husband, or that you broke his nose?"

"Definitely you." Ryan smiled.

She returned the gesture, then sighed. "Yeah, you're probably—no, completely right." Gabriella lowered her head in deep shame, needless to say. Ryan knocked legs with her.

"Gabriella, I've done plenty of awful things in my life—and what happened today doesn't even break the ice. At least you're sorry for it."

She looked at him, curiously.

"You don't feel bad for beating up Troy?"

Ryan chuckled, "Heck no. I've always wanted to sock that guy one." Gabriella couldn't help herself: she laughed.

"Why?"

Ryan shook his head. "It's nothing."

"No, c'mon," she nudged him, smiling, "there's something. Why don't you like him?"

"Because," Ryan watched her carefully, "he had you and he just let you go." Instantly, Gabriella's cheeks were red. She gulped. "You're wonderful Gabriella and he can't even see it."

Gabriella stared at her hands. "Not being in love with me isn't a crime." Ryan's lips parted, but he wouldn't say what had crossed his mind. He said something else instead.

"I think he married the right person, yes—my sister and he are great together. But he still left you in pain. And that is a serious offense."

Gabriella almost laughed.

"I should be in pain right now. I deserve it." She sighed and looked back at a dejected Ryan. "But thanks for the vote of confidence."

He put his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. She smiled and then stood.

"I guess I should go home..." Gabriella turned around to gather her belongings, when she came face to face with Sharpay.

Her expression wasn't one of anger, to be exact. But it was stern, pained most likely, and to Gabriella: intimidating. She swallowed, roughly.

"I think we need to talk," Sharpay said.

Without waiting for agreement, she led the way out. Gabriella followed orders, but knew: the night was still far from over.

-x-x-x-

Sharpay and Gabriella didn't trek too far from her dressing room. In fact, they crossed the hallway and straight into another back room. But upon seeing Troy standing in it, his nose bandaged, she wish they had gone anywhere else.

Sharpay took three quick strides and stood tall beside her husband. Gabriella shifted awkwardly in her skin, feeling worse than she could've imagined. It was as if she was the kid with her hand in the cookie jar—but tripled in angst and humiliation. Her skin burned; she just wanted to rip it off.

"Gabriella," Sharpay started, "Troy told me everything that happened this afternoon." Gabriella refused to meet their gaze. She didn't even want to know the expression displayed on Troy's face. "But we still need answers from you." Gabriella swallowed the two-ton weight that sat on her chest.

This time Troy spoke. "Why did you do it?"

Gabriella shuddered, "I don't have the answer you're looking for."

"What do you mean?" Sharpay asked, almost softly. But what Gabriella had to say wasn't soft at all. She resented it, but it had to be done.

"I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't mean it. Because I did." She struck up the courage to meet the couple's eyes. "But I am deeply—gravely sorry for it."

"Yeah, well, it's a little late now," Troy mumbled to himself. Sharpay kept her attention focused on Gabriella.

"So when you kissed my husband," each word pinched and sliced like needles puncturing her skin, "you were aware of your actions?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Sharpay stiffened. "See, that can't be true though. Because the Gabriella Montez I knew would never purposely hurt me." She sighed, "But maybe I don't know you anymore."

You don't. I don't. But I wish I did. Feeling it was much too late to say any of those words, Gabriella had to go with something else.

"The purpose wasn't to hurt you. It-it was to...to...," she couldn't finish.

"To get me," finished Troy. Gabriella squeezed her eyes shut and sunk into herself.

"I knew my reasons then, but none of it makes sense now," she admitted. "I knew in my head that I would regret it—and I do. That's all I can tell you."

Sharpay stared at her for a while.

"Am I supposed to forgive you? Was that in your plans—did I ever even cross your mind?"

"I never expected it, no."

"So you thought you'd run away with my husband, and I could just shove it?" Her snips made Gabriella bleed.

"At the time: I hadn't thought that far. But now—"

"Oh, now what?" Before Sharpay went any further, Troy took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

"Hey, hey—do you remember what you told me?" Sharpay rolled her eyes. "What were we here to do?" She took in a long sigh.

"What if I changed my mind?"

"You haven't. I know you, Shar. You couldn't hurt a fly, and you can't hurt her now, even though you want to."

Gabriella's breath stayed stuck in her throat. She wanted to be crying, begging for forgiveness—but she couldn't. She was all out of energy. In her heart, she'd been grovelling all day—and she just didn't have anything left to offer.

"Gabriella," Sharpay called over Troy's shoulder. She looked up, startled. "Two questions."

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do so she just nodded.

"Would you do it over again?"

Frowning deeply, she shook her head. Of course she wouldn't. Hadn't that been the point of this whole fiasco?

"And do you still feel the same?"

About Troy, she meant.

Gabriella closed her eyes for a moment of thought. She hadn't discussed that with herself, yet.

After all the drama she caused, would she still pine away the rest of her life? Had she even ever loved him all along? Or was it the wounded pride that disillusioned her? Something in Gabriella shifted. At first, when Troy returned, she'd still been in love with him. But after so many months of seeing him with Sharpay, she told herself she was over it. Only when she received the invitation for the wedding had all those dead feelings reawakened. When Gabriella realized she had lost the war, she remembered how much she had loved Troy. She hated losing out on such an intimate subject—for once in her life she wanted to win. So she kissed Troy. But not because she loved him. Because she wanted to win. And she knew she couldn't.

The scene reappeared in her mind, and any feeling that had flooded her system then, had immediately been drained. She felt nothing.

Gabriella looked back up with confidence.

"No." She broke out into a smile, almost giddy, "No—I don't. Oh my God," it hit her, "I don't love you anymore." The two tons she had been carrying, limping along with it, had finally disappeared. She could taste the fresh air once again. "I don't love you!" she laughed.

And unexpectedly, so did they.