Disclaimer: If I owned Kelsi, I'd be commissioning songs nonstop. The girl has talent.

Kelsi Nielson

New Years Day 2006

6:56 p.m.

I slammed my fingers down on the keys, making a very satisfying angry sound. The piano has always been able to express my feelings better than I can on my own.

I was frustrated because Twinkle Towne was just not coming along how I wanted. What was the use? East High's Pied Piper and her rat were just going to screw it all up anyway.

I don't know why I bother.

This is the first time Ms. Darbus has trusted me with something so huge. She heard me playing in the music room one day, and insisted I compose the spring musi-cal, as she calls it.

It's an honor, it really is. But it's a lot of pressure. Ms. Darbus has to approve it, Ryan and Sharpay have to approve it, and heck, the entire student body ultimately has to approve it…what if no one comes to see the show?

Ms. Darbus wants to hear the entire score the day we come back from winter break. There is no way I'll have it ready in a week.

I groaned as I put my head against the cold, hard wood of the piano. "Help me," I moaned.

Yeah, that's right. I'm so stressed I'm talking to a musical instrument. I've gone nuts. Haul me away to the institution. At least then I'll never have to see the Evans twins again.

I wish I had Troy Bolton's confidence. I look at him as he walks down the halls, surrounded by friends and admirers, and wish my life could be that perfect. Troy's biggest problem is probably finding two matching socks in his drawer. Scratch that. He probably has a perfectly neat sock drawer, organized by color or something.

When I walk down the halls, I'm forced to trail along behind her and him and the other "real members" of the drama club, a.k.a. the actors. At rehearsals, I play what they tell me to play, and when to play it, and Ms. Darbus lets them walk all over me because Daddy Evans contributes a lot of money to the drama department.

If I ever had Troy Bolton's confidence, I'd totally stand up to them. I'd love nothing more than to give those two dictators a piece of my mind.

But Kelsi would never do that. Kelsi does what she's told. And yet Kelsi's completely replaceable. Anyone can play the piano. I'd like to think Ms. Darbus actually cares a little more about me than that, but I know Thing 1 and Thing 2 definitely don't.

I think my real problem is that I don't have anyone to talk to about this. I can't talk to people at school. Even if I had the courage to go up to someone, I don't think I could take their rejection if they didn't like me. I don't really have any friends my age. I'm sure there are some nice girls at East, but I just can't seem to work up the courage to talk to any of them. These are girls I've known since kindergarten. But I've just always been Invisible Kelsi to them: the girl who plays the piano all day.

I decided it was time to hop off the self-pity train and concentrate on Arnold and Minnie. They had to have a duet in the second act; I was sure of that. But what would it need to say?

They would be in the midst of celebrating their love. I tried to imagine being in love. How would I feel? Loved? I laughed at myself. Real creative, Kels.

Hmm. Buoyant? Weightless? Free?

Ooh, free. That works. I scribbled furiously on my sheet music.

I wish I could be free of Tweedledum and Tweedledumber. If I just had the strength to break away…

That's it! I could hear two perfectly harmonized voices in my head as I wrote down the newest lyrics: But your faith/It gives me strength/Strength to believe/We're breaking free…

Oh, yeah, I've got it!

I worked steadily for another twenty minutes until my stepmom came in and told me I had a phone call.

Hmm. I had already talked to my favorite cousin this morning, and my grandparents yesterday. Who would be calling me?

"Hey Kelsi, it's Ryan."

I suppressed a groan. Ryan's fine to talk to when he's without his sister, but the only reason he could be calling me today is to talk about the musical.

I tried to make my tone sound cheery. "Hey Ryan, what's up?"

"Well, I'm calling to thank you for last night."

My mouth popped open in surprise. "Th-thank me? For what?"

"For rescuing me from Chad. I usually like talking to him, but he was so drunk last night. He kept putting his hand on my arm, and it was making me uncomfortable."

Yeah, okay, Ry. Like you don't worship the ground that boy walks on. I've heard you and Sharpay talking. You were just afraid he was going to kiss you in front of everyone. He was probably just drunk enough to do it, too.

I managed to formulate what I thought was an appropriate response. "You're very welcome. You know I love dancing with you. You're definitely the best dancer at East."

"Stop it, you're making me blush!" He laughed.

I sighed. He's too good for that harpy he hangs out with. I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I went for the one safe topic. "I'm working on Twinkle Towne. It's coming along great."

"That's good. I'm really happy for you. I'm sure it's going to be a fantastic show. After all, I'm the only one who can pull off such a flat character like Arnold."

I spoke too soon. What a jackass. But he's a spoiled little rich kid. He doesn't know any better. "Yeah, Ryan, it's going to be a really good show. I'll see you next week, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Enjoy the rest of your break."

"You, too."

We hung up, and I really thought about erasing half of Arnold's lines from the script. But I didn't. That would be catty. That's so not me.

Nope, I'm the girl who suffers in silence. I swear, if Ryan and Sharpay change one chord of my beautiful music…

…I probably won't be able to do a thing about it.

Oh, well. At least I'll finally have a composition out there for people to hear. If anyone actually comes to the show, that is.