Aw thanks for the amazing reviews already! I really hope you like this one :)
Kudos and mention must go to 'unknownbyhim22' who wrote 'Protecting Miss Montez' and inspired me to write my own Bodyguard story. Please check out my favourites to read it!
CHAPTER 2
The girls are persistent, I'll give them that.
They've grown in numbers and as I stride out in my skinny jeans, black ankle boots and long black vest with my fringed tan bag; most of them surge forward for an autograph and a picture.
There's still the small group of haters, I always have those, but the fact they're spending their time out to come and hate me is strangely reassuring. And now there's a group of people who actually like me, too.
Troy is at my side, being all professional again, back in his suit with his cold blue stare assessing the crowd. Sometimes I wonder how he does it, how he stays so closed off and I'm staring at him as my thoughts follow their path of intrigue when one of the fans approaches.
"You look so pretty…" One of the girls tells me.
"Oh, thank you. So do you," I smile back.
"I love your boots."
"They're from Leyla's, you should check them out."
"Your bodyguard is hot," another girl states, making me look up with surprise.
"I know, he wouldn't believe it if you told him though," I remark with a smile.
"Gabriella's bodyguard?" The girl taps his shoulder and he presses his lips together.
"You're hot. Gabriella thinks so too."
He looks at her, then at me and challenges me to save him. I merely smile back wanly.
"Thank you." He manages to say in response, closing himself off from the girls once more.
"Thank you! I think you're awesome!" The girl called as I finished up signing, sending a small wave and a big smile to them as I dash off, Troy in quick pursuit.
"Do you have to embarrass me like that?" He grouches as we head for the car.
"Hey, she said it," I defend.
"You encouraged her."
I stare at him, across from the driver's seat, waiting for him to look at me. When he finally does I can see he honestly doesn't feel comfortable with the compliment.
"I'm sorry." It might be the first time I have ever said it to him. He seems surprised.
"No problem." He nods curtly and I see him look back out of the window, distracted by his job again.
James left when I left my room. Normally, he would accompany me to the recording studio and Troy would come down at midday to swap over; but today was different. Troy was insisting on staying with me and I couldn't help but wonder why.
"Don't you get a break today?" I ask as I work through the traffic.
"James is taking over at midday. We swapped shifts so I can do the nights."
"Can you start at eight and change the crossover times? I like having you around when I finish my day."
He looks to me and I shift awkwardly in my seat with a swallow. "I know, it's business, not a social arrangement," I sigh from his many repeated versions of that phrase.
"If you want me to, then I will." He says and I almost crash the car. Quickly regaining control of the steering wheel, I cough the clear my husky throat and blink three times.
"Really?"
"That's my instructions." He affirms and then it all makes sense to me.
Dad.
"What's he said to you?" I ask cynically, turning from surprised to hurt. "'Do anything she asks?'"
He shrugs. "That's about the top and bottom of it."
"That's ridiculous!"
"You don't have to tell me…"
"Then why are you doing it?"
"He's paying my wages unless you forgot…" He muses.
"This is insane," I pull the car over to the side of the road and exit with an angry door slam, stomping off to dissipate the anger burning through my veins. How dare he! How dare he tell them to do anything I want! Is that why Troy stayed last night? Because I was upset and wanted him there? Just when did this conversation take place?
I stop when two arms tighten around my waist, winding the breath from me.
"Hey!" Troy commands as he halts me, quickly letting go again when I remain still.
"Hey what?" I ask back sarcastically.
"Don't run off like that." He tells me, his blue eyes training over my face with concern.
"Why not? Is that in your instructions too? 'Must not let Gabriella run off', like I am some little child who needs controlling?"
"You need protecting," he tells me, making my heart beat hard. "I can't do that if you run away."
"Maybe I'm fed up of having people paid to like me. Maybe I'm fed up of being tailed twenty-four seven. Maybe I just want to be able to go to the beach for a day with the people I love and have some fun." I throw my arms up to animate my frustration.
"I'm not paid to like you." He offers.
"I know." I stare at him pointedly.
It's like we're having a stare-off or something, as we both squint our eyes and hold ground, neither of us wanting to look away.
"Are you going to drive to work today or not?" He enquires with the tiniest flick of smugness on his upturned lips.
Oh, I could hit him right now; I shake my head with my own grim smile of annoyance. He seems to take great amusement in getting right under my skin and insulting me constantly and I refuse to let him get the better of me.
I push my shoulders back, use my full height to look as haughty as I can manage and I stride by him back towards my car, leaving him to follow me once more.
I regret the skinny jeans as I imagine him zeroing in on my thunderous thighs and as I sit in the car and strap myself in, I turn to him to check his face, wondering what expression I might find there.
My heart sinks as I see nothing but calculating blue eyes, swishing side to side, checking for danger, looking for threat and finally, the cold blue stare falls upon me.
"Do you want me to drive?" He asks, with nothing but practicality in his voice.
I press my lips together and twist the ignition key. "No thank you."
/
Singing my heart out in the studio was tiring. Amazingly rewarding, extremely exciting and my life's dream come true, but tiring.
My father called and I was glad to hear his voice but I told him to stop with the freedom on my demands. I wanted to be treated like a person, not a precious stone.
He reminds me why I never bother arguing his ridiculous decisions by telling me I am his only daughter and as he can't be here to look after me, he has to make sure somebody is.
Only he doesn't seem to realise his replacement is seriously lacking.
"Dad, they don't even talk to me. I miss you and mom. Can't you come out for just a short stay?" I wonder.
"You know I have that meeting in LA with Whitney, honey," he reminds me in a sorry tone.
"And mom?"
"She's coming with me. I need my assistant." He replies and I nod with familiar disappointment.
"Okay."
"You'll be back home before you know it," he cheers.
"Yeah…" I swallow the painful tightness in my throat.
"Call soon, honey." He clicks off before I can even say goodbye and I throw my phone down sulkily, watching it bounce three times and land at a pair of shiny black brogues.
"Didn't get your own way?" Troy wonders as he picks up the small cell phone and holds it toward me.
I glare at him and turn back toward the recording room, feeling every emotion swirl inside me as I slam the door behind me and shove my earphones on, signalling Jack the sound man to start the next track.
#Why didn't anyone ever tell me it would be so hard?
Why do I feel like my life is blowing away?
I feel like I'm surfing on the wind of time
And no-one can ever take this away
But you knew me
Oh you knew what I could be
Now won't you tell me?
Tell me we can be
Tell me we can be
Eternally
Who told me that I could play my life like a game?
How can I ever be free of what I am?
I don't need a hero to save me in the setting sun
But I need to feel the ray of hope that has begun
But you knew me
You always knew what I could be
Please can't you tell me?
Tell me we can be
Tell me we can be
Eternally
What does it mean without a wave upon the shore?
How can you scream without a voice that tells much more?
What do you see without the moon up in the sky?
How can I believe you'll always be there by my side?
But you loved me
You told me you would always be
Why did you tell me?
Tell me we would be
Tell me we would be
Eternally#
The tears started sliding down my face in the second chorus and my voice became raw with emotion as I sang those words with every ounce of hurt and rejection I feel right there, in that moment.
Jack fades out the track, Antonio dashes in to comfort me and I look up into my manager's grey-blue eyes, wondering what he can possibly say to change this moment.
"Why are you crying? Your vocal was amazing!"
And there it is ladies and gentlemen. The inarguable sensitivity of the male species. I would love to wrap it up in roses for you, but there is the plain truth, right there.
"Thank goodness for that," I smirk sarcastically, walking into the sound box and into Jack's arms.
He has a big, round body that comforts instantly and the second I saw him stand with his arms out, gesturing me out to embrace him; I knew I wasn't going to decline his much-needed support.
"Are you okay, Gabriella?" He checks, rubbing my back and I feel him shift so I look round, seeing Troy behind us with a funny look on his face.
"What happened?" He clips just the same.
"Nothing you need to know about," I sigh. "I'm going back to the hotel now."
"Gabriella…the track…" Antonio stutters from the studio doorway and I flick him a look, knowing I can't possibly give up recording time that has already been paid for.
"Okay I lied. I'm not going anywhere." I amend, heading back into the booth and Troy resituates from the viewing lounge outside the studio, to inside the sound box.
I see him making conversation with Jack, I see Jack flicking me looks each time before he replies and as I record the track over and over, different harmonies, extra notes, I pray that Jack doesn't tell him anything.
He really doesn't need to know. He really doesn't want to know, I smirk to myself.
Troy Bolton may think I am a spoilt brat but he has a lot to learn. A whole lot.
/
Troy comes back at eight like I asked. I'm confused as hell with their shifts now. All I know is that when I sit down with my hand-delivered pizza, Troy looks really tired.
"Have some," I invite of my Hawaiian even though he has his own 'meat feast'.
"Swap?" He holds up a slice of his instead with his question.
I shrug. "Sure, okay."
The meat feast is revolting, let me tell you. I cannot fathom why boys like this stuff, it's just beyond puke worthy but now that he gave it to me, I chew and swallow a bite without screwing my face up too much, so as not to hurt his feelings.
"You didn't like it," he notes as I place the unfinished slice back down, not quite discarding it as he speaks. I lift it up instead.
"Do you want the rest? I hardly touched it…"
"No, I have enough," he assures with a little smile that warms his ice-blue eyes.
"Growing men need their food…" I tease, hoping for the formal atmosphere to fade a little into the evening.
"I'm grown." He states as I choke on the cheese making its way down my throat. Don't I know it.
"So you are," I remark with a head tilt and he gives me a long look.
"You're funny." He says flatly, and you wouldn't know if he was being serious or not from his tone.
"Is that a compliment?" I wonder.
"Not entirely," he affirms and I nod in acceptance.
I feel his gaze on me and look up, finding him flicking his eyes over me.
"Are you okay, from earlier?"
"You mean you care?" I challenge.
"I'm sorry if I was rude about your call."
"Oh god, did he tell you to apologise for being rude to me, too?" I wonder of my father.
His silence is deafening and I close my eyes for a long blink while I take a breath. Why do I even try to be friends here? Why am I even bothering?
For one second, one minute even, I would love to have someone real sitting here with me.
"I meant what I said," he repeats quietly.
"Fine. Forgiven." I lie and rid my pizza box, breaking our eye contact.
As I make my way back toward the bed, I hear the familiar tune of my cell ring tone, my heart pounding excitedly at the incoming call. I grab my phone and flip it open.
"Hello?"
Dial tone. Great. I frown confusedly and check the number. Witheld.
This is going to be a long, lonely night.