Author's Note: Sorry for all the rewrites on the first chapter. I couldn't settle with it. I am a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to writing, especially when it's a story I'm passionate about. Anyways, I'm content with this chapter so I shouldn't be modifying it.

Also, I hope you don't mind me switching between characters. I guess that's my short attention-span kicking in. I had to throw in an input on Ryan, and I like alternating characters. I think it gives the story more depth.

Anyhoo, I'm done ranting and raving. Please REVIEW and ENJOY!(':

DISCLAIMER: STILL DON'T OWN HSM OR THE CHARACTERS. STILL OWN THE PLOT AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS BY ME. (:

Chapter 2

Ryan

Dear Diary,

I think I really am going to like it here. Unlike the fear and worry I felt all the time at Julliard, along with the pressure to stand out, I feel happy and at peace here. I don't worry about what people think of me, or the level of skill I have. I don't have to work extremely hard at fitting in and standing out all at once. Here I can just be myself. I can be Ryan Evans future Best-Selling-Author and Broadway Performer.

As happy as I am here, I still can't help but to miss Sharpay. She's my sister, and more. She's my twin, my other half. She's my best friend. She's the one who convinced me to change schools. Her words still ring loud and clear in my head.

"Ryan, for the love of God, if you are not happy there then transfer out! Don't stay because you feel obligated, stay because you love to be there. And if you are not happy, and are miserable all the time, then leave. No one is forcing you to stay and study there. That was your decision."

That was probably the best advice I have ever received, even if she was shouting at me erratically. But that's Sharpay, Miss Dramatic.

I finish writing in my diary, a practice I perform daily, and feel the cool wind breeze through the window. The news called for rain, but I refuse to shut the windows. It gets far to stuffy in a cramped dorm.

I barely have enough room for all my clothes. My closet back home was twice the size of this room, and my room was twice the size of this floor. I may not be as materialistic as Sharpay, but I still need my space. I was raised with the best, so it only seems natural that I would have the best in college as well. Maybe Mother can make a special donation to the library or theatre, and I can get my own floor, or a double room at the very least.

I rest my head in my palm and gaze out the window, a sigh escaping from my lips. Troy is down in the court yard. I'm not sure, but it looks as though he's been crying. That's odd. Troy Bolton, East High Basketball God, crying? Impossible. Nothing could break Troy in high school, so why would he be upset here? Sure he'd have to work harder, but Troy was amazing at everything he did. He seemed fine in class today.

English. Probably the best class I have this semester. The professor was strict, but friendly, and she asked for what we expected out of the class. How amazing? Normally, as students, we have no input on what we will learn or what we want to learn. It's so refreshing that a teacher would actually request that we demand what we want to learn.

I filled the pages in minutes. She requested five, but I couldn't stop myself. When I write my soul escapes. Even for simple assignments, I feel everything within my soul leak out on page. My every thought, want, fear, dream is all on the page to see. Even if it is about wanting to read Tolstoy, or requesting plenty of writing-based assignments, I let it all out. When I finished I had roughly eight to nine pages. I think I made a good impression with her, as I wrote the most out of class and was as descriptive as possible.

Troy only wrote a few pages. He didn't even get the required five. I know he isn't the brightest crayon in the bunch, but he isn't flat out stupid. He never really tried in high school, but he always did what was required of him and got by with decent grades. Turning in half of the required assignment? That doesn't sound like Troy at all.

The more I think about it, Troy is nothing like when I last seen him. In class he was as far away from the rest of the class as possible. In school he'd surround himself with people. Making friends was easy for him, he was always so open. And those beautiful blue eyes that were always filled with life seemed so distant and dark.

I watch him from my window lost in my thoughts, ironically centered around him. I watch as he shrugs away from passing peers. I watch him bury his head in his hands, and fist his beautiful, silky brown hair. Pain and frustration and sadness plaster his face. I wish I could just kiss the pain away. That is ridiculous to even think.

Troy will never be interested. It doesn't matter if I was his absolutely perfect type, it wouldn't work. I'm not a girl. And I learned a long time ago that you can not make a straight guy fall in love with you. Those things only happened in my dreams. But maybe being his friend would help him. I mean I was kind of his friend in school. We weren't close or anything, but we did hang out a few times. We had fun, too. At least I had fun. Maybe because the time we spent as friends, I dreamed of it transforming into something more.

A knock on the door jerks me away from my thoughts. I glance into the mirror at my reflection and adjust my shirt before opening the door. A guy who looks a few years older than me is standing there gnawing at his lower lip.

"Hi, Ryan Evans?" His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

"Yes? Can I help you?" I look out into the hall around him to reveal that he is a lone.

"Yeah, I'm Brycen. Brycen Hill. I was sent by Professor Winston, from the drama department, to deliver this script. He said for you to memorize the first five pages, and prepare for an audition tomorrow." His green eyes sparkles in the dim hall, and his dark hair swoops around his face. He's pretty for a boy. He's prettier than I am, and that's a compliment I take proudly. Sure, he seems a little shy, but once I crack him out of his shell we can have fun.

"Thanks Brycen. See you around I guess." I give my best "100Watt Evans" smile, flashing my sparkling teeth. My family has always been complimented on our outstanding smiles.

Brycen must think so too, because he is blushing a deep shade of red. Absolutely adorable. "Yeah, um, see ya." He let's out a deep breath and makes his way down the hall awkwardly.

Did I mention I really like this place? Maybe I can't have Troy, but I can always be his friend. Maybe find out what's wrong with him, and be there for him. And Brycen seemed so nice, and was really nice to look at. He acted like he was into me, so I don't see why I can't try to go for it.

This semester was going to be absolutely amazing, but I don't have time to dream about the rest of the semester. Because right now I have five pages to learn for a simple audition. Professor Winston sounds tough. Probably a failed, washed up Broadway dreamer. I refuse to become one. I'll make it. And I'll prove it by learning the lines right now.