THE SIMPLE NEED
xxx
THIRTEEN
"I'm just so happy to be on summer break!" Gabriella said with a sigh. "I've got the one summer class, an accelerated course for the next six weeks, but it's a small group and I'm going to have so much more time to focus on my research project – and I can manage my time how it suits me best."
"You mean around Troy's schedule?" Zeke pointed out matter of factly.
The group had come together for dinner mid-week, as they'd planned. Zeke had the night off work so instead of going to the restaurant where he was Pastry Chef, they headed to Cafeteria in Chelsea. All but Troy had arrived, and he'd texted that he was on his way, as he was held up at work and said they should get started without him.
"I don't think I could handle being around college kids all the time. I was in college not that long ago, I know what a pain they can be," Taylor said with a shudder.
"I do enjoy teaching, but it's the research opportunity that really sold me on the position," Gabriella said with a shrug.
"Just a couple of weeks for me until I'm really on summer break," Chad said with a broad grin.
"And as soon as Gabriella's finished with her teaching, we're off to The Hamptons!" Sharpay exclaimed.
"Maybe," Gabriella warned. "I can't commit just yet."
Sharpay had been planning a summer getaway to The Hamptons for the last few months, and all were pretty much signed up and had arranged leave from work – with the exception of Troy, whose previous schedule was difficult enough to work with, but his new schedule was completely up in the air. He and Andy had started a campaign to attend every open mic night possible in the New York City region, a campaign which was officially commencing that weekend. Gabriella was waiting until Troy had confirmed his plans until she made a final decision. She really wanted to go – she'd never been to The Hamptons and it sounded like a lot of fun.
"Clearly you don't know Sharpay well enough yet – she's going to make it happen," Zeke chuckled.
"Oh look, there's Troy," Sharpay said, waving at him as he stood by the host station, glancing around the restaurant. He caught their eye and gestured to the host, before heading over to join the group.
Gabriella glanced up, her lips curving into a smile at the sight of him, and then recoiled upon realising he was wearing a pair of dress pants, a button up shirt and a jacket. He looked amazing, but incredibly different – she was used to his version of dressed up involving a pair of corduroy pants.
"Sorry I'm late, but you'll find out why, I have amazing news!" Troy exclaimed, sliding into the empty seat beside Gabriella. He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.
"What's with the monkey suit?" Zeke exclaimed.
Troy was beaming. "I had a job interview today."
"A job interview?" Gabriella repeated, somewhat confused.
"Yeah, I didn't say anything because... well... I wanted to see first if it was too good to be true," he admitted.
"The fact that you have amazing news and you're grinning like a Cheshire Cat says it must've gone well!" Taylor said.
Troy grinned, and proceeded to explain. "So, Ted came in yesterday – first time I've seen him in two weeks – and told me that he's 'officially' going on a sabbatical. He and his wife are going overseas for six months, doing some big round the world trip. In the interim, he wants to appoint an official store manager. He tells me that he's advertised the job and is interviewing, and asked if I'd like to be interviewed. So of course I said I'd toss my hat into the ring. He gave me an interview time today, and said it was in between some phone interviews he was doing with some people interstate who had applied. He had lots of questions about marketing and the store direction and accounts and cost control. I nailed it, I tell you," Troy boasted. "Anyway, turns out the whole thing was a ruse – just wanted to see how I'd perform under pressure! He never even advertised! So, effective from next Monday, guess who will have the 'Assistant' dropped on the title on my badge?"
"Of course you got it, you've been loyal to that place for like, seven years! Hell yes!" Chad exclaimed, reaching over to give Troy a hearty handshake.
"That's so amazing!" Gabriella exclaimed, excitedly hugging him from the side. "Congratulations!"
"More cash?" Sharpay asked matter of factly.
Troy nodded. "More cash – I mean, nothing to brag about, but a hell of a step up! Also, more flexible hours. He knows about my music and sort of... you know, movements. He doesn't care how I manage my time. He said as long as the costs are controlled and the shifts are covered then I can work the hours I need to work. So we'll look at promoting someone to Assistant Manager and hiring another team member or two. We've had a few applications from college kids who are sticking around in the city over summer break so it shouldn't be too hard."
The waiter re-approached their table, having seen the final member of the party join. Troy glanced over the menu while the others placed their orders, and then the waiter came back to him. He quickly ordered the steak sandwich and a Coke and they turned back to their conversation.
"So... what about The Hamptons?" Chad asked, with an eyebrow raised. After Sharpay, he was the next most excited about their getaway.
"Hardly a priority for Troy right now!" Gabriella exclaimed, with a roll of the eyes.
"Boss number 1 – Ted – said it's fine – I quote 'you deserve a break, kid.' Boss number 2... he'll be the harder one to sell."
"Andy?" Taylor asked.
"How many gigs do you have lined up now?" Zeke asked.
"About ten over the next two weeks."
"Ten!" Taylor exclaimed.
"It's not as bad as it seems. It's not full gigs. At an open mic night you get a maximum of three songs. Plus he's got three lined up for next Saturday – an afternoon gig, an early evening, and an 11pm slot."
"Andy wants them to figure out their 'sound'," Gabriella elaborated for Troy. "Before they start making any commitments to new band members."
"Which just involves a massive spree of playing and rehearsing and experimenting," Troy said with a nod. "It's fine – I actually agree with him on this one. We've got no clear direction now, so we need to sort it out."
"How is everything going with the kid you met a couple of weeks ago? What was his name?" Chad asked.
"Rhys. He's a good kid, knows his music. We jammed again on the weekend. He's a bit more soft indie, I think that will work though. Andy is thinking about inviting one of the singers of the band he used to play with to jam with us, this chick named Jo."
"Chick?" Gabriella repeated.
Troy nodded, not hearing a slight strain to her tone. "Yeah, you remember, the one he was talking about being in Mascara with? This chick, oh my God, Rhys gave me all their tracks they've recorded. I was playing them all day in the store yesterday. But what's the coolest is that she actually plays – Rhys went through the tracks, she does acoustic, electric, bass, and you name a type of guitar and she can play it."
"Sounds like she's talented," Zeke remarked.
"I mean, I haven't met her, but Rhys swears for her. Andy is thinking about trying to figure out our sound, thinks we could be more layered if we had both male and female vocals – it's kind of a different sound, it isn't quite as often done these days."
"Is she hot?" Chad asked, to receive a sharp elbow in the ribs from Taylor. "Ouch!"
"Yeah, is she?" Gabriella prodded.
It was now that Troy picked up on Gabriella's tone. He glanced around the table, as Zeke shifted uncomfortably and Chad was staring at him, as though warning him to not screw things up.
"Um, maybe we can discuss this later?" Troy suggested quietly. "You know, when we're alone?"
"What do you mean, discuss this later?" Gabriella asked, feigning ignorance. "It was just a question."
"I haven't met her, like I said, so I cannot comment on how attractive she is," Troy chose to answer, and it was he this time who had an edge to his tone. "So, anyway, that's enough about me. Chad, how are the brats going? Cabin fever set in yet in the last few weeks?"
From there, it was clear, that the topic of conversation was changed. The rest of the night went smoothly on the surface, however there was a clear lack of the affection which Troy and Gabriella had been openly displaying for anyone within a ten foot radius for the last few weeks.
After they'd all eaten and shared a couple of desserts, they headed their separate ways – Sharpay and Zeke hopped into a cab, with Sharpay whining about her sore feet thanks to the heels she insisted on wearing every day. The others hopped on the 1 train which was just by the restaurant, taking it a couple of steps south to Sheridan Square. When they emerged, they stood awkwardly for a moment, while Troy and Gabriella looked at one another. This would typically be the time where they would determine whose apartment they were going to stay at overnight. Finally, Troy made the decision, and simply headed in the direction of the building that Gabriella, Chad and Taylor shared, the others falling into step with him. Chad filled the air with mindless chatter about an incident that had occurred on Friday the week before with one of his students tossing paper up into the air vents and accidentally throwing up his own homework assignment. Without discussion, Troy followed Gabriella to her apartment, farewelling Chad and Taylor as they headed up the stairs to their apartment in the floor above.
Gabriella placed her handbag down and headed into her kitchen.
"Would you like anything? I'm going to make a cup of hot cocoa." Her voice was somewhat distant, as though she were offering cocoa to a distant relative who was visiting unannounced.
He ignored her question, and instead responded with a question of his own. "Did I say something wrong?" Gabriella turned around slowly, looking carefully at him. His expression was earnest, and his tone was confused. "Because, like... I keep going back and thinking about what happened there and I don't really get it. One minute I'm talking about my band and us figuring out our direction and the next minute it went weird and... and I keep coming back to this conclusion that you don't trust me."
Gabriella's head snapped up, looking at him. "Troy..."
"Please don't try to deny it. Please just take a second and reflect on what really happened, on how you reacted."
Gabriella abandoned her cocoa, instead sighing as she moved toward her lounge area, collapsing wearily onto the couch. Troy perched on the edge of the arm chair, watching her carefully as she tucked her feet under her. She finally began to explain, carefully.
"When you were talking about that girl..."
"Jo," Troy interjected.
"Jo... and about her talent and her amazing voice and guitar skills. I guess I suddenly I became prematurely jealous, as a result of my own imagination."
"You've been there while girls flirt with me at the bar. You don't seem to care about that?" he probed.
"I care in the way that I become possessive but... this is different," Gabriella admitted.
"Why?"
"Because... because you live in this exciting world. Because you live your life with a passion – and I love your passion, and I'm really interested and genuinely enjoying all that I'm getting to learn about music, but it isn't my passion. And Jo - who neither you or I have met - represents women out there who have the same passion as you. Like the girl who made you fall in love with music in your freshman year of college with the long pianist fingers."
"Everything you're saying right now is so ridiculous," Troy said, shaking his head.
"It's how I feel, Troy, which doesn't make it ridiculous."
"Okay... maybe ridiculous was a bad choice of word. But, like, at the end of the day, what you're saying is that you don't trust me, or us."
"No, that's not it."
"Yeah, it is. You're saying that if we invited some attractive, talented girl who I had things in common with, to join the band, and I was spending time with her, that my feelings for you would change. Like I'm some kid at Christmas being given a new toy or whatever."
Gabriella didn't respond, just stared at the floor – until Troy rose to his feet, when she looked up at him.
"I'm going home now. I don't think I should stay here tonight," he said softly.
"Are we fighting?"
Troy shook his head. "No. I'm not mad. I just... I need to think about all this, and I think you should too. Because... this isn't gonna work if I can't trust you, and it isn't gonna work if you don't trust me – and us. Full stop."
xxx
Gabriella grappled with Troy's thoughts all night long, and it was on Friday afternoon when she found herself giving herself an early mark from work. The summer intensive course only had a half day on Friday, so by 12:30pm, she was escaping from the doors of NYU and out into the increasingly rising heat, clutching onto a gift bag in her left hand. She knew from a quick glance on Facebook that Troy had gone into work that morning for a few hours but was back home – his last update had been "Sorry, neighbors – feeling creative." When she arrived at his apartment building, she was firstly shocked at not being able to just open the door from the ground floor landing – it seemed that finally, they'd come to fix the intercom and lock.
She pressed his door buzzer and waited a full minute with no response, and then pressed it again. A moment later, he responded with a wary, "Hello?"
"Hi," she said quietly.
A pause, and a moment later the buzzer sounded at the door, and the click of the latch opening sounded. She entered the building and ascended the flights of stairs until she was standing in his doorway. After giving herself a moment to catch her breath, she knocked on the door, with the gift bag still in her left hand but holding it behind her back.
The door opened a moment later. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants and a white wife beater – a look that was very appeasing to the eye. However, it wasn't the focus of her visit.
"Hi," she said softly. "Again."
"Hi," he returned.
They were both silent for a noticeable moment. Gabriella glanced past him, spying his guitar on the couch.
"I'm sorry if I interrupted you in a creative moment, and didn't call before coming over," she apologised.
Troy shook his head, somewhat bewildered. It was still fairly early in their relationship, granted, however he felt it was a mutual agreement that they'd surpassed those kinds of formalities.
"Don't be silly. Come in," he said, stepping back to allow her to come in. "Do you want a drink?"
"No I'm fine. I uh... I brought you this."
Somewhat awkwardly, Gabriella thrust out the gift bag. It was silver and glittery, a bit larger than a standard sheet of paper.
He shook his head. "Gabriella, I..."
She'd anticipated a push back at the notion of a gift. "I said brought not bought. Please, just look."
Troy cocked his head, and warily accepted the outstretched bag. He looked inside, and immediately grinned.
Inside the gift bag was about a hundred pages of blank sheet music, with a red ribbon wrapped around. Floating around in the bottom of the bag were about twenty pencils, a handful of erasers, and a blue pencil sharpener.
"Like I said, brought. I stole all the stationery from work, even used their paper and ink. Okay, I have to admit, I bought the gift bag at CVS. But it has been lying around in my apartment in this random drawer of odds and ends, I didn't go there specifically to buy it."
"I so adore this gesture but... what is this about?"
"This is my way of apologising to you. And it's my way of saying to you that I am absolutely one hundred percent on board with your music and everything that goes with it. The girls at the shows, and the ones in your past, and anyone in the future who you may need to collaborate with – whether that happens to be Jo, or the Pussycat Dolls."
"The Pussycat Dolls?" Troy repeated. "Are they still relevant?"
"I panicked. I was trying to think of a hot female singer."
He smirked, and offered, "Beyonce?"
"She's totally out of your league, so I'd be fine with that."
"Totally out of my league? You had to emphasise the totally?"
She gave him a look. "Be serious."
He contemplated. "What if the band was already famous – like, multiple platinum, sold out world tour famous – and then we collaborated?"
Gabriella considered this. "You'd be the reacher, but it might be within the potential realm of possibility. If you take away the fact that she's married with a kid and all."
"I'll take it. Me and Beyonce, within the realm of possibility. That will go on my gravestone."
The joke ended, with another moments pause, before Gabriella turned serious.
"You were right."
Troy blinked. "I'm sorry, pardon?"
"You were right," she repeated.
"Just one more time?"
Gabriella shoved him playfully, before sighing and appeasing him. "You. Were. Right. My reaction was like I don't trust you. Which... isn't fair, since I put a whole lot of energy and effort into assuring you that you can trust me."
"Have I done anything at all which would lead you to believe that you can't trust me?" Troy asked.
"No. Nothing at all," she spoke truthfully. "I just... I guess I have my own insecurities. I might be an adult now, but a part of me still feels like that awkward sixteen year old girl who had to change schools every year and never had real friends and never really felt like she fitted in. At the end of the day, I'm just a boring professor and I don't comprehend why someone as fascinating as you could possibly be captivated by me for longer than a minute."
"That is where you're wrong. You are witty, and funny, and charming, and passionate, and fucking hella sexy," Troy added, with a wink. "And you get me. I just... with you it's... it's easy. And that means something, you know?"
She nodded. "It does. I feel that too."
"Good."
"Can we kiss and make up now?" she asked hopefully.
He smiled. "Wasn't a fight, so not making up, but we can kiss."
The kiss was soft and long, and Troy was very reluctant to pull away.
"Andy is coming over soon," he revealed softly.
She gestured toward his guitar on the couch. "Working on something new?"
"Kinda. A cover, but different for me."
"Anything I can hear?"
"Not yet," Troy said coyly. "Are you gonna come to the open mic night tomorrow?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Good. I think we'll do it there."
"I'm intrigued."
"And... will you come to rehearsal tomorrow with Rhys for a little while? At the rehearsal space?"
"I will, but why are you asking me so formally?" she asked curiously.
"Because I want to ask you a favour. I was gonna spring it on you but I think asking first is the polite thing to do."
The curious tone turned wary. "I'm feeling a bit nervous now."
"I want you to sing with us." Troy was completely serious.
Gabriella paused, taking a moment to reflect, and then laughed. "Good one. What's the real favour?"
"That's the real favour."
"Troy I... I care so very much for you. But I'm not joining your band."
He rolled his eyes. "I know that. You have a really similar vocal tone to Jo. I'd like to get a feel for whether what Andy can somehow see in his head might work. There's a few tracks that I'd like for us to play around with, and I'd rather get a feel for whether I think it's an okay idea, rather than getting this girl in and it not working out because it's the wrong vibe."
"You want to do this in the rehearsal space? Not just at Andy's?"
"Yeah. We're gonna record some stuff – not properly, but just with our own equipment."
"I think you're insane. I'm not that good!"
"You've got serious potential. I'm not expecting something professional, just to get a feel. Come on, say yes, it'll be fun!"
Gabriella smiled – it did sound like it would be fun, though the idea of singing in front of anyone but Troy terrified her. She sighed.
"What songs?"
Troy grinned, and held up a finger indicating for her to wait a moment. He dashed back to his computer where he picked up a CD he had put together, and brought it over to her.
"You probably know them already. All fairly mainstream."
He'd scrawled on the disc in a black permanent marker the names of the songs.
"Broken, Seether and Amy Lee; Need You Now, Lady Antebellum; Set Fire To The Third Bar, Snow Patrol," she read aloud.
"You in?" Troy asked hopefully.
"You know I couldn't say no to you," Gabriella responded with a sheepish smile. "Even if I do think you're nuts to think I can carry any of these – even well enough to give an overall picture."
"Nuts about you."
"That was corny."
"But cute?" he asked hopefully.
"So cute that I have to leave before I rip your shirt off." She pressed a light playful kiss to his lips and turned toward the door. "See you tonight!"
xxx
Twenty four hours later, Gabriella stood nervously with the lyrics to Need You Now on a music stand in front of her. Troy was beside her, with his acoustic guitar in hand. Andy was at the keyboard, and Rhys was sitting comfortably behind the drum kit. It was a small rehearsal space in Brooklyn, in the same neighbourhood where Rhys lived. It was new for Troy, practising in a rehearsal space, but he quite liked it – something about it made their time more focused – they were paying by the hour and so it meant that every minute of practice time counted.
Gabriella was aware of this fact, and so she was feeling added pressure, on top of her nerves. She'd fussed around trying to decide what to wear that morning, until Troy yanked a pair of shorts and a ratty t-shirt from her closet and declared, "That'll do." She promptly ignored his choice – since they were planning to go 7straight from rehearsal, to dinner, and then out to the open mic night in Williamsburg, she wanted to be more presentable. But she stopped fussing, grabbed jeans and a loose purple top, and decided that her nerves were nothing compared to what Troy experienced on stage. However her sudden bold confidence that morning had washed away, especially after listening to the guys jam out a few tracks and finding herself more and more impressed with how their sound was coming together.
Troy had pulled her over from the sofa in the corner a few tracks in, kissing her on the cheek and murmuring to not be nervous. However as he glanced over at her fiddling at the sheet music, he cleared his throat.
"So, why don't we do a quick warm up?" he suggested. "And you sing a song just for fun. Get used to it."
Andy nodded, having also picked up on her nerves. "What's your jam at the moment?"
Gabriella hesitated. "The answer is embarrassing. You wouldn't know how to play it."
Troy grinned. He knew the answer to what the song was. "You might be surprised, Andy knows nearly everything."
She glared at him, and then sighed. "Party in the USA," she admitted. "I blame Pitch Perfect."
Rhys stifled a laugh, and Troy rubbed her knee consolingly. Andy merely grinned, and held out his hand to Troy, gesturing for him to hand over his acoustic guitar. Troy obliged, and Andy repositioned himself on a stool. "I need the pick as well."
"You know it?" Gabriella asked, raising an eyebrow. "Without sheet music?"
"I know it," Andy declared. "How's that for embarrassing? But I love the sound, especially of the intro, so I taught it to myself. Give me a tick, I'm not used to this acoustic stuff."
He strummed at the chords, fingers flying across the frets. Troy watched on, slightly shaking his head. He had to work so hard at his lonesome couple of instruments, while Andy had the ability to go from the keys, to the bass electric, to the acoustic, and even to the double bass, without barely a moment's thought.
"Hopped off the plane at JFK with a dream and my cardigan, welcome to the land of fame excess, am I gonna fit in, jumped in the cab here I am for the first time, looked to my right and I see the New York skyline..." Andy trailed off after the ad lib in his singing – not his forte, but he held his own – with a flourish and a final strum. "Still got it. You ready?"
Gabriella bit her lip and nodded. "Go."
xxx
The gig the night before had been like a walk in the park. Troy remembered just a few weeks earlier feeling vulnerable and exposed at the idea of exposing himself musically at their Lion's Den weekly gig. He now realised that the advantage was the reliable crowd – they could show up and do a cover of What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction and probably elicit a positive response. He sat in the audience at the open mic night clutching onto Gabriella's hand, watching as some amazing artists played creative and original songs, some met by mediocre responses from the crowd.
A good little support crowd had gathered for the first open mic night that Troy had been a part of in a good while. In addition to Gabriella, Steve had come along, as well as Andy's buddy Chris who worked at the rehearsal studio, and of course Chad, Taylor and Sharpay – Zeke had unfortunately had to work. It was simultaneously heartening and terrifying. Open mic nights were terrifying because you had a minimal period to make an impact, and there is nothing like the sound of polite applause, or even worse, silence, after you've performed. So having friends around meant a guaranteed support network. However Troy was also feeling the pressure as the result of that support network – the pressure that came with exposing yourself to your nearest and dearest. Their set was acoustic and raw, with just the two of them.
It was a smaller bar in Williamsburg, a bit of a dive really. It was the kind of place with old mismatched couches, cushions on the floor and people lounging around sitting around on the carpet. They had a regular Saturday open mic night, where bands would pre-register to get a slot, which was then randomly drawn and the band would be contacted with five days notice that they were selected. If you didn't show up for your slot, you were blacklisted for six months. It was harsh, but regimented – and it was necessary. Andy had been around the indie music scene a bit more seriously than Troy. Troy was only just starting to realise how many bands there were in New York City with some talent and a dream.
Their group were settled in a corner to the side of the stage, having scored a couch and a section of carpet with a pile of cushions. As the slot before them were setting up on stage, the coordinator came over to tap Andy on the shoulder, so they could get ready. A smooth transition between artists was key in keeping the night moving quickly, to allow as many artists as possible to play.
"Gabriella was pretty amazing today, huh?" Andy asked Troy in a hushed tone.
"Huh?"
"Chill. It's just us, and three songs. No big deal."
Troy grimaced. "Sure, no biggie."
"I thought the sound with you and Gabriella was pretty amazing."
"Hrm. Maybe."
"You don't think Gabriella was amazing?"
"I think she's perfect, but still wary of the whole idea."
"Because you guys had a fight about it?"
"No."
"You're lying."
"I'm trying to focus, can you keep quiet?"
"I'm trying to distract you, can you play along?"
Unfortunately Andy's distraction attempt was intervened by the glare of someone side stage who was clearly with the group currently performing. Troy was left to clutch at his guitar nervously, and before he knew, the MC of the night was announcing them – listed for the night as "Half of The Band Formerly Known As Little Black Book" - and Andy was leading the way onto stage, Troy having no choice but to follow. It was kind of symbolic of how he felt about their entire adventure into the land of professional amateur music.
Troy was poised on the bar stool with his acoustic guitar on his knee, while Andy had the house keyboard in front of him. Troy was feeling the nerves, and stared out into the crowd. It was the kind of lighting where he could only just see the shadows in the audience, but they weren't completely blinded out. He was acutely aware that they were there, but making out facial expressions was impossible. Both he and Andy had microphone stands in front of them. Andy played a couple of keys, just making sure the sound was working, and spoke into the microphone a quick, "1, 2, 1, 2." The sound from the music that was playing through the speakers between acts was turned down, and Andy glanced at Troy, who was meant to do his own quick test.
Except Troy froze, and for five whole seconds, the room was silent.
Andy cleared his throat, and leaned in to the microphone, with no choice but to improvise.
"I'm Andy, and this is Troy. Up until a month ago we were a part of a covers band who play every Friday night at The Lion's Den in Greenwich Village near NYU. The band has split up and we're working on finding our new sound. Tonight we've got three songs for you, a couple of covers, and an original that I wrote. I hope you like them."
There was a polite smattering of applause from around the room, with a more enthusiastic display from the corner where their friends were gathered. Andy glanced at Troy, making eye contact, verbally making sure that he was okay. Troy gave a slight nod, somehow summoning the strength from within, and shifted the guitar, strummed a couple of notes, and then launched into the first song, a soft cover of Superman by Five for Fighting. They received a positive response from the crowd as the song ended, and Andy introduced their second song, his original song, something he'd written about an on again, off again relationship he'd been in for about four years, which had ended about eighteen months earlier. It was the first time that he'd played it in public, and it was Troy's first time performing the lead of an original song in such an intimate setting. Again, they received positive applause from the audience.
Troy introduced their final song – the song he'd been working on the previous afternoon.
"Uh... for our final song, we're gonna do something a bit raw. I wanted to do a cover of this song, which was inspired by my girlfriend – even if she does think I'm only just hot enough to pull Beyoncé."
There were laughs from the crowd, and Troy grinned as he could practically feel the heat on Gabriella's cheeks, though with the lighting, he could hardly see her. The final song was an acoustic version of Just The Way You Are by Bruno Mars – somewhere closer to the version that he digged by Boyce Avenue.
In the audience, Gabriella was watching Troy adoringly, the pink tinge to her cheeks which had been caused by embarrassment now by happiness. She'd heard him perform songs where she had no doubt that she was a huge part of the emotion - but this was different. It was an overwhelming emotion. She had no doubt in her mind that every single lyric of the song was being sung for her, that this was all part of his way of wanting to tell her exactly how he felt. Those big overwhelming feelings that she too was feeling, and questioning if it was too soon. She was so overcome on so many levels, not just overcome by the emotion in his voice, but also by the beauty of the cover itself. Troy was sexy when he played the bad boy, when he sang lyrics with innuendo and a wink – but he was glorious when he sung with such unadulterated and pure passion.
The boys retreated from the stage to a healthy applause – not the biggest hit of the night, but up among the top few. Gabriella had seized Troy's guitar case which he'd left propped against the couch, unbuckling it ready for his return. During the few minutes of transition they had time for the immediate hugs and handshakes and claps on the back from their small but supportive group. He sunk to the carpet beside Gabriella, tucking his guitar away, accepting a couple of handshakes from around before looking directly at her.
"Troy," she murmured, saying so much with one syllable.
"Surprise," he said with a small smile. "That's what I was working on yesterday. And when you went to get us all lunch today."
"That was for me?"
He nodded. "Yes."
All she could do was kiss him – it was a fierce kiss, the kind of longing kiss that Troy knew exactly what it meant, knew exactly what she wanted in that moment.
"We need to postpone this," he murmured, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear.
She took a breath and nodded. "Okay. But... me too."
"Me too what?"
"Just... everything."
In the background, Troy could hear Andy being approached by someone who was expressing positive sentiment about the set. He should've joined in the conversation, but he was far too engrossed with Gabriella.
"We're listed on Facebook as The Band Formerly Known As Little Black Book," Andy explained in the background. "As we sort out our new band, we'll put updates on there about what we're up to."
Gabriella curled into Troy's side as they took in the final three acts in the open mic portion of the night, all of whom were a bit more polished, with original songs that a few people in the audience knew the lyrics to. In that moment, she needed to be close by him. The emotions were overwhelming, and somewhat terrifying. A few weeks had turned her life upside down. When she'd challenged him to man up and call her, somewhere deep down, she'd felt the potential that existed with their chemistry – but it was so much more than she could've anticipated.
"Are you okay?" Troy murmured as the last song of the night had concluded and the band was packing up. He leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her temple.
She nodded. "Sorry. I'm being needy clingy girl."
He shook his head. "Don't apologise. But I do need to get up."
She reluctantly pulled back, both of them getting to their feet. Troy had been so wrapped up in his little world with Gabriella, listening to the music and sitting with her, that he hadn't even realised that just behind them, a few new people had joined their group and were talking to Andy – Rhys and Candice, along with a couple of friends.
"I'll be right back," he said to Gabriella, gesturing toward them. She nodded and went over to join the others.
"Hey guys," Troy greeted them. "What's happening? When did you arrive?"
"Not long before your set. We were hiding in the back corner," Rhys said with a grin. "I know a few people here – did you catch the girls who did the original folk songs, maybe two groups before you? We were just hanging with them."
"I did, they were cool," Troy said with a nod.
"Anyway, sorry to surprise you, but I mentioned I was coming here tonight and they insisted on coming. This is Jo. Jo, this is Troy."
Troy blinked at the young woman standing in front of him. She had chin length blonde hair, a nose ring, was wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of faded, ripped up faded jeans. Standing next to her was another girl, with a short dark pixie haircut. Her arm was around Jo, not so discreetly with her hand in the back pocket of Jo's jeans.
"You know, Jo," Andy said, raising his eyebrows. Troy rolled his eyes. Andy wasn't the most discreet person he knew.
"Yes. Jo. Great to meet you," Troy said, playing it cool.
"Great to meet you guys too. I've heard lots about you. This is my girlfriend Sara."
"You guys were so great tonight," Sara complimented. "That Bruno Mars cover? Gorgeous! So raw. Loved it."
"Thank you," Troy said, feeling the smirk on his face emerging. "I should introduce you to my girlfriend, since she inspired the track you liked."
He turned around to where his other group of friends were around their table, and grasped Gabriella's upper arm, guiding her to come around. She didn't argue, just gave him a small smile. She was much happier being by his side, even if she was going to be caught among the musicians who spoke another language.
"Gabriella, I'd like you to meet Jo and her girlfriend Sara. Jo used to play with Rhys."
Gabriella could see the twinkle in Troy's eye as he said the word girlfriend. She held back from rolling her eyes, and decided to just take the smugness and let him rub it in later.
"Great to meet you guys! It was nice of you to come along tonight. They don't admit it, but Troy and Andy were pretty nervous. They've been quite comfortable in their regular gig in Manhattan."
"If you're not scared, you're not sticking your neck out far enough," Jo advised with a shrug. "I heard that quote on TV once."
"Well said," Andy said, nodding in agreement.
"Sara, are you a musician as well?" Gabriella asked.
Sara laughed and shook her head. "Gosh no. I'm in web design."
"Listen I... I don't want to pressure you guys, but I'd really love to come jam with you sometime," Jo said earnestly. "I'm just really keen to start being creative again. The last few months have sucked! I'm so not a solo artist. No pressure for commitment, but just a bit of fun, and take it from there."
"I think I've seen you somewhere before. How do you know Rhys and Candice?" Gabriella asked.
"Well, I'm at NYU at the moment, I met Rhys when we both did an internship at the radio station. I studied at The Collective for a year, and then I was accepted to the Manhattan School of Music but... money was an issue. I'm now studying at NYU, at the Clive Davis Institute of Recorded Music. I've got one more year left."
"Wow," Troy said, clearly impressed. "I've heard about that program, it sounds amazing. I wish I could've been in that program while I was at NYU."
"It's pretty great but... I just love playing. Music isn't something you study, it's something you do, you feel, you know?"
"I've heard some of your music, the stuff with Mascara, and Rhys gave us copies of some of the stuff you and he recorded," Andy mused. "You're great, you know?"
"Thanks, I appreciate that. I think you guys are great too – so much potential, and Rhys says you've been working on some cool stuff. That's why I'd just love to jam with you guys. If you don't feel a need for female vocals, then that's fine, I don't need to be involved vocally. But if you think that maybe it'll give you some depth and diversity, then that's also great. I'm a solid vocalist, not really lead potential but I could carry a duet and I'm great with harmonising. I've had experience in recording studies, and I study in that environment. I play guitar – electric and acoustic – as well as keys, and a few other things."
"Sounds like you're pitching us."
She grinned. "I've got high hopes, what can I say? I really love the direction you two are taking and honestly, Drew knocking up his girlfriend is the best thing that could've happened to you."
They all laughed.
"Come with Rhys tomorrow afternoon," Andy said. The truth was that he and Troy had already decided that afternoon – it was definitely worth exploring. "We're jamming at my place, I have a garage apartment. Get the details from Rhys."
"I'll be there. I'll even bring snacks."
xxx
Just as they'd been standing out on the street contemplating whether to grab the L train or call a taxi; a minivan taxi had driven past and Sharpay took it upon herself to hail the cab. Chad, Taylor, Sharpay, Troy and Gabriella all squished into the minivan, along with Troy's guitar case. The others dispersed into their corners of the Brooklyn borough. They dropped off Sharpay first in Chelsea before heading south toward where the others all lived.
"Do I have clothes at your place?" Troy asked Gabriella quietly, trying to remember what was around.
"Hmm... not sure... but I don't have any at your place."
"Then to your place it is then."
When they arrived at the apartment on the corner of Bedford and Grove, Troy was quick to insist that it was his credit card that was going to be used for the trip. He felt Gabriella eyeing him from outside the cab on the street, as he waited for his card to process, and looked at her somewhat triumphantly when the transaction processed without fail. She merely smiled back at him and held her hand out; he farewelled the taxi driver and took Gabriella's hand. There was mindless chit chat filling the silence as the foursome ascended the stairs of the building. Troy didn't prolong the conversation as they paused on the landing of her floor, just thanked them for coming and said they'd catch up. He tapped his foot impatiently as Gabriella seemingly took ten minutes to locate her keys and unlock her door.
The moment that the door closed behind them and Troy had set down his guitar, his hands were on her face and his lips pressing to hers.
"Beautiful," he murmured in between kisses.
"You're beautiful," she responded.
She was somewhat struck by the force, it took her back almost to the frenzied passion that had been part of their very first night together. Since then it had been absolutely lovely, scorching hot, amazing sex – but it had been a lot more tender and loving. There was something almost primal in the way that he had her pinned against the door, and she was absolutely responding. As lovely as the kisses were, she was eager to be sitting down – heels were not her friend – and she pushed back, moving in the direction of the couch. Troy happily obliged, and sank down onto the cushion and pulled her down on top of him, straddling his waist.
"You were so fucking sexy this afternoon," Troy murmured, fingers toying at the hem slinky purple top, lightly grazing against the soft skin that lay beneath. "We can train you more. Join the band."
She shivered from the sensation of his tongue trailing along her neck. "You would be that guy that a girl would throw away her whole career for, you know."
"You can use your degree. We'll be Doctor Montez and the Heartbreakers."
"Cute. Tempting. But no."
The banter was interrupted by the sound of Troy's cell phone ringing, from where it was inside his pocket. Gabriella pulled back, raising her eyebrows.
"Is that the Exorcist theme?" she asked.
"It's my mom," Troy groaned. "Why the hell is she calling this late on a Saturday night?"
Gabriella lifted slightly so she could pull the phone from his pocket and hold it out to him.
"Are you going to answer?"
"No."
They waited a few moments until the phone stopped ringing. Troy waited another minute until the inevitable voicemail message came through.
"Sorry I... this must be weird. Stopping what we're doing for my mom. But I have to check... in case, you know, it's important."
Gabriella more than understood, and waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine." She went to move off his lap completely but Troy held her down, and so she waited patiently for him to listen to his voicemail.
"You're in big trouble. I had to find out from Dad being friends with Chad on Facebook that you got promoted, you're performing with Andrew and that you have a serious girlfriend?! Call me tomorrow buster."
Troy winced. "Oops."
"What?"
"What the fuck did Chad put on Facebook?" he pondered aloud.
Gabriella grabbed her own phone from inside the clutch she'd dropped onto the couch beside them, quickly navigating to Facebook and to Chad's page. He'd uploaded a photo gallery from his phone, labelling it 'Random photos.' She scrolled through, Troy peering over her shoulder. It was just an assortment of photos, ranging from a meal that Taylor had cooked, a scenery photograph he'd taken in the park, a couple of selfie couple photos he and Taylor had taken, and a few photos from that night. He'd managed to capture a few cool photos while he and Andy had been performing, had taken a couple of photos of Taylor, Sharpay and Gabriella; and lastly, there was a sneaky photograph he'd taken of Troy and Gabriella from behind, as they'd been sitting on the floor snuggled together watching the last few bands. There was absolutely no mistaking the closeness in the photo. The first comment on the photo was from Sharpay - "cutest couple."
"That is a cute photo," Gabriella commented with a blush at being caught out in a moment that had felt very private.
"Not for my parent's eyes, though," Troy grumbled. "I told Chad he had to be careful when he accepted my dad's Facebook friend invitation."
She sensed the gloomy change that had come over Troy. She pulled back to climb off of him again, this time, with no objection. She didn't go far, remaining sitting right beside him, feet tucked up underneath her with a hand gently rubbing his thigh.
"Does it really matter that they know you're seeing someone?" Gabriella asked carefully.
Troy paused. He heard her tone – his answer mattered. "I'm not ready to tell them. I'm not saying not ever. But just, not yet."
"Why not? I just don't know why it's such a big deal. I know that you and your dad have had your differences, but I thought you were on good terms on the whole? And I thought you were on great terms with your mother?"
"It is a big deal, at least, it is to me."
"Tell me why? You know, my mom knows that I'm seeing someone. We've spoken on the phone a couple of times and I can't help but tell her. It's impossible not to."
"And that's fine that your mom knows, I don't have a problem with that."
"But you're upset that your parents know?"
Gabrielle wasn't mad with him, she was just confused by his reaction. This came on a night where he had very publicly sang to her, announcing to both existing and some potential fans that he was in a somewhat serious relationship – giving away any opportunity of being able to establish an image of being single and available as part of any upcoming marketing strategy.
Troy sighed, mulling over his response, and finally attempted to explain it to her.
"My parents think that I'm a joke, okay? This big disappointment. So much potential, so much waste. They keep saying it's not too late to get back on track, that it's fine that I've spent my twenties fucking around but that it's time to make some decisions. Dad tells me all the time that if I came back home, I could go spend a couple of years teaching, then I could get Assistant Coach and be ready to take over for when he retires. Mom says if I don't want to teach, then it's not too late to try something different, something more steady – she suggests all these 'careers' that I could try to get into. She does it subtly – says that she's happy if I'm happy – but I can read between the lines."
"Okay..."
"A part of that being a joke is that we're at that age where people that we went to school with us are married, having kids, or at least in serious relationships. We'll talk on the phone at least once a month, my mom will send e-mails with photos of the renovation they're doing to their kitchen, and will slip in a question about whether I'm seeing anyone. They know that I got burned, they know that I got hurt. And sure, I wouldn't respond with 'hooked up with a girl I met at a gig last night' but I would say 'nothing serious' and I think Chad told my dad a bit more of the truth. They know enough to know that I've not really been thinking about relationships."
"So wouldn't they be happy to know that you're seeing someone?"
"When I tell them, I wanted to be sure. Like absolutely positively beyond a shadow of a doubt sure. And please, please don't get me wrong – I am sure, at least, about today, but... this is still new. If I tell them I'm seeing someone, dad will say something like, another groupie? Breaking another girls heart?' and then I'll have to refute that and justify us to them. Which I don't want to have to do. Because then my mom will want to talk to you and get involved and will ask if its serious and if it is, then do I think that a good girl with a real life like you is going to put up with a slacker musician like me. Because you see, when you have to defend things like this, it's admitting that you're like, a part of me. That... that I don't just want you. That I need you. And that's the scary part."
"Admitting that you need someone?"
"Yes. I'm used to relying on myself."
"I know."
"So it's scary."
"You... you need me?"
"More and more every day." Troy sounded almost ashamed at admitting this, like it was a dirty little secret that no one else was supposed to know. Gabriella seized his hand in her own, squeezing it, and provided him with her own dirty little secret.
"I need you too."
It wasn't only Troy who was used to relying on himself – this was a sentiment Gabriella more than understood. She'd had only herself to rely on since a young age, after her father had passed away and it was just her and a mother who she loved dearly, but who worked long hours and often left her alone, trusting the good judgement of her honors student daughter to make the right decisions.
Troy squeezed her hand back – it meant a lot, that when he was lettng his guard down to her, that she returned the sentiment. It made him feel a lot less like he'd gone out on a limb.
"Somewhere deep down inside, I can feel that this... that this is real," he admitted, going that one step further. "And that excites me and scares me equally. And until it stops scaring me, I don't need it to involve anyone else. Including my folks."
"Just you, and me, and the crowds of people who listen to your songs."
"Exactly."
"But unfortunately, Chad's let the cat out of the bag."
Troy rolled his eyes, and declared his strategy. "I'll refuse to comment."
"How long do you think until you're less scared?"
He considered this. "Every day it's a little less scary."
"Good."
xxx
Troy was woken up just a few hours later to the sensation of someone tugging urgently at his arm, whispering his name impatiently.
"I can think of far more pleasant ways to be woken up," he groaned. He blearily opened his eyes, seeing that Gabriella had flicked on her bedside lamp and was propped up beside him, her sheet just barely covering her nude form.
"Sorry I just... I couldn't sleep and I thought of something I had to tell you."
"Couldn't sleep? Not tired out enough? Really? Need help with that?" Troy's mind drifted back to a very fresh memory of her bouncing on top of him.
She ignored the innuendo. "I think I've worked out an awesome name for your band."
Troy cocked his head. "Oh?"
Gabriella hesitated – now nervous at his piqued interest and the pressure that came with it to deliver, before finally delivering her suggestion.
"The Simple Need."