THE SIMPLE NEED
xxx
FIFTEEN
xxx
Troy lay gazing at Gabriella one Sunday morning, feeling a sudden clarity that should have made him feel awash with nerves but instead, the clarity surrounded him with a warmth and comfort. The curtains of his studio apartment were just slightly open, the sliver of light making way to shine on the packing boxes in the corner, and leaving a line of light along Gabriella's exposed leg which was peeking out. The sheet was twisted around her torso, at some point in the middle of the night as they'd been fast asleep, she had managed to acquire all the bedding, but had then kicked the comforter back his way. His apartment was quite warm, the cool of fall had yet to really set in, and as he had no AC and just a free-standing fan to keep them cool, the comforter was somewhat unnecessary.
He'd tried to insist to her that they should just stay at her place, but she was quite adamant about 'equal time'. He knew it was her way of insisting to him that she was okay with his lifestyle, she was okay with his hovel of a studio apartment, and she was okay with the fact that he was just a week away from finishing packing up and moving out to Brooklyn to be closer to his band, their rehearsal space, and the majority of their gigs.
It was there as he gazed at her, the comforter draped just over his mid-section, and he stared at her leg and the light and the way her thick, dark tresses of hair tumbled around her face angelically – it was right there that the clarity had hit him.
He was happy.
It should have been terrifying. He'd become quite accustomed to his own misery, after all. Ever since he hit puberty, his mother had joked about him being the kind of boy who was capable of an award-winning sulk. On a good day he was bright and bubbly, a bit wacky, the kind of kid who would play practical jokes with his best friend Chad where they stole the clothes of younger basketball team mates from the locker room and led them on a chase throughout the school, leading into the middle of the auditorium where Sharpay and her drama club crowd were rehearsing for a musical. However, on a bad day – like when he found out that he failed a math test, lost a basketball game, or when he was just feeling confused about what he wanted to do with his future – he could go into a deep funk, disappearing into his room for hours on end.
When he hit college, it was all about figuring out exactly what he was meant to be doing with his life, and that led to its own bad mood days. The days where he could hear the disappointment from his father that not only had he rejected college scholarships for basketball, but that he wasn't even trying out for the NYU team. The days when he'd go home for summer break and work as a camp counsellor for a month and get himself put on the music rotation – to try to embrace his music major – and his dad would all but refuse to hear about it. When girls cheated on him, when he was broke, when he felt completely inferior and lost in comparison to his friends. He was accustomed to a bit of misery, he was accustomed to struggle.
Sure, the direction of the collaboration he'd formed with he and Andy and Rhys and Jo wasn't free of struggle. There was plenty of struggle. He was still pretty broke – he didn't let on to Gabriella that he took ramen noodles to work for lunch on many days. It was disheartening to be rejected from a line-up of local musicians for an upcoming indie event because they only had a handful of polished originals. It sucked when they'd performed at an open mic night and had bombed and heard the sound of only a handful of their friends clapping. He had such minimal free time, thanks to a combination of longer hours in his new role as store manager, and the now structured music time – structured rehearsal times, writing sessions, and independently doing things in the spirit of the overall direction of the band. It was hard.
But at long last - the struggle didn't equal misery.
He loved it. He felt like finally, he was doing something that he was meant to be doing, and Troy hadn't felt like that in a really long time. He'd been in denial about the extent to which music was in his soul for so many years, thinking it was just a hobby and he needed to grow up. But finally, he had just accepted that this is what made him feel free, and passion, and joy.
And so as he lay in the tiny studio apartment with the boxes in the corner and the guitar on the sofa and the piles of CD's he was going through before boxing up, was that despite all the hardship, he was happy.
What also struck him with perfect clarity was that the woman who was dozing in front of him was an overwhelmingly significant contributor to his contentedness.
Gabriella Montez had swept into his life completely unpredictably. A year earlier, if any part of him had those faraway dreams that he'd one day be exploring his musical potential in a semi-serious manner, he never would've thought he'd be doing it with a partner by his side. It would've been with a rotation of groupies, those classic images of sex and rock 'n' roll. She wasn't something he'd been looking for – but it turned out, that she was something that he needed. Once he not only accepted but also embraced that need, he found the feeling amplifying.
He understood with a sudden clarity – and without a hint of fear – exactly what it all meant.
She stirred, stretching a little in the bed, and he smiled.
"What time is it?" she mumbled.
"Ssshh, go back to sleep," he murmured, running his hand along her arm.
"Mmm… you're awake though."
She rolled over to face him, burying her face into his chest. He pressed a soft, loving kiss to her forehead. She lay still, but he could sense that she was awake. He held her close, his hand absent mindedly running over her skin, her arm, her hip, her neck.
"How long have you been awake?" she finally asked, a little more coherently than her previous mumbled statements.
"A little while."
"You could've woken me."
"Nah. Just thinking."
"About what?" she enquired.
"Lots of things."
"Like?"
He kissed her forehead again and pulled her even closer. She could feel the sensation of his breath against her face.
"You. Me."
"All good, I hope?"
"Better than good. Great, amazing… perfect, even."
Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his intense gaze. As their eyes met, his lips curved into a smile.
"You seem different somehow. Was it the extra hour of sleep? Allowed you to wake up a brand new man?"
He chuckled lightly. "I was just… this is going to sound stupid, I know, but… I kinda was just lying here thinking about how happy I am."
She shuffled back, just ever so slightly, allowing for more comfortable conversation. "Because you're in a kick ass band set for fame and fortune and moving into a new amazing apartment?"
He laughed. "I'm in a small time band and moving into a shoebox with rust and grime… and I have the most amazing girlfriend, who is more than my girlfriend, who is in so many ways my partner… who… I am completely in love with."
He lay still, not breathing, awaiting her response. Gabriella's face relaxed into a smile, not feeling particularly surprised by his admission – but rather, touched at his candidness in sharing it. She'd felt that they'd reached that point between them, where the unsaid was enough for her to know in her hearts that he felt that way and that when he was ready, that it would be articulated in words. She'd kind of thought it would come in some bigger moment in time. But in a way it was special, that the moment where he'd felt compelled to share was simple – that it was just the two of them, being Troy and Gabriella.
She reached out, searching under the sheet that was draped over her and the comforter over him, in search of his hand. She found it, their fingers entwining as she squeezed his hand lightly.
"I'm in love with you too."
They let those words hang in the air, all warm and comforting and loving, gazing at one another.
"Does that scare you?" Gabriella asked. She couldn't help but wonder, and in that moment of pure honesty and openness between them, she wasn't going to hold back her questioning thought.
Troy considered this. "It should… but… it doesn't. Don't get me wrong – the thought of ring shopping makes me shudder a bit." She laughed at his wry confession. "But this, you and me, it makes sense to me right now."
She shook her head slightly, experiencing some disbelief. "Who are you and what have you done with my jaded, guarded, dirty boyfriend?"
He grinned. "Funny how things sometimes just fall into place."
"I guess, when you figure out where you're meant to be…"
"… and who you're meant to be with."
She ducked her head slightly, a shy smile spreading across her lips before she impulsively leaned in, lips pressing to his in a soft kiss which lingered. It was a kiss to commemorate the significance of the moment which had just taken place between them, though it had happened so simply and sweetly, without fanfare or dramatics, it was nonetheless a moment of inordinate meaning.
xxx
Gabriella bound into the bar that had become like another home on a Friday night, waving to her friends who had spotted her and called out; but heading straight to the side stage door, navigating through the building crowd as quickly as she could and avoiding stares from a small number of women who she suspected were regulars and therefore would recognise not just the band but also their regular support group. She knocked with what had been agreed upon as a 'secret knock' – a silly grin on her face as her knuckles rapped against the wood, delighted that she was part of the inner circle - and it was Andy who opened the door.
"Hey hey," he greeted her, opening the door wider to let her step into the back of house area. "Did you bring it?"
She nodded, gesturing to her tote bag. "Right here."
"Good. Now I'll let you back here, as long as you and Troy aren't going to just be all kissy face. I need my boy focused."
"Shut the fuck up, Andy," Troy's voice called from behind somewhere she couldn't see him.
Gabriella giggled at the banter and pulled out a t-shirt and jacket from her bag. "What was with the wardrobe emergency?"
Troy stepped out from behind an old curtain which served as a small changing area, his once white t-shirt now splattered blue and somewhat clinging to his abs – not necessarily a bad look.
"Troy spilled blue Gatorade on himself," Jo explained, stifling a laugh.
Troy's face was mostly stoic, with the slightest hint of shame at his act of un-coordination. He wordlessly took the t-shirt from Gabriella, quickly whipping off his old shirt in exchange for the new one. He slung the jacket over the back of the old sofa.
"Tired from all your last minute packing that I told you to not get behind on?" Gabriella asked, eyebrows arched.
Moving day was finally upon them; the next morning, Troy's apartment would be packed up and he and Andy would be moving into their new loft in Prospect Heights, Brooklyn.
"Sorry mom," Troy said sarcastically. Gabriella poked her tongue out at him.
"I hope what I grabbed was okay. Your call was good timing, actually, I was just leaving my place."
"Since when does it matter how I look, anyway? I bet someone round here has a spare shirt lying around somewhere nearby."
Gabriella had to hide a smile at Troy's complaint, given that the man had the ability to roll out of bed and put on whatever was on the floor and look like a model.
"Since you became a band with a track on the iTunes charts," Gabriella countered.
"Hell yeah we did," Rhys cheered.
The group picked up their water bottles and glasses, clinking them together, celebrating their accomplishment. They'd broken in at #99 on the Indie chart with their track Blue. What had really helped them along was YouTube. A recording from one of their open mic nights, which coincidentally originated from the cell phone of Chad, had made its way around the internet, mostly through social media. Since then, they'd been contacted by a few radio stations around the country with shows celebrating indie talent and phoned in for interviews.
"Be right back," Troy said to the others, and before Andy could protest, he yanked Gabriella with him through the backstage area.
It was a flashback for her, being taken out the back door, with memories of their hot, heated encounter that February evening; and also more recently, where she'd calmed him down before he took the stage for the first time as leading man. It was difficult to fathom that a few months could see such an incredible amount of momentum, for his career, and for their relationship.
She shivered a little in the night air, the cool of fall had arrived over the last few days. "Do you need your jacket, you don't want to get sick?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Won't be long, just wanted to say hello properly, without Rhys and Andy wolf whistling like we're all sixteen."
As he'd spoken he'd stepped toward her, an arm wrapping around her waist. The new three words which had entered their relationship had served to bring back a little of the spark which had been waning through the natural progression of their relationship. It wasn't enough to give her a quick peck on the lips and thank her for the emergency wardrobe supply; instead he knew that he needed to kiss her properly, the way that a woman like her should always be kissed.
"That was certainly hello," she murmured as he pulled back.
"Hello and thanks for the clothes," he added with a cheeky smile. He then turned serious. "Okay, back inside. Big show. Andy isn't entirely wrong when he says I need focus."
She followed him back inside, hands adjoined, where the others had instruments out and were beginning final preparations. They had a newly acquired 'assistant' in the form of a NYU freshman named Dean who Jo had met through mutual friends, a brand new music major who was helping them out at some of their major gigs by heading onto stage before them to set up instruments and perform quick tune-ups – the closest thing to a 'roadie' that Troy had certainly ever worked with, a signal of their growth and movement in the direction of the 'big league' of music as Rhys would label it. Dean had just headed out with Andy's keys and Rhys was laying out his smaller bongo drums that he used in a couple of acoustic tracks – the house drum kit was used for the rest of the tracks.
"Good luck everyone, not that you'll need it," Gabriella wished them all. "See you after the show."
They chorused with farewells and Gabriella squeezed Troy's bicep. He leaned in, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek and murmured a quiet 'I love you' beside her ear. She mouthed the words back at him before their hands slipped away and she headed back out to find their friends – not his friends, or her friends, but their friends – and enjoy the show.
xxx
"That's everything. Your entire kitchen contents in one box. That's pretty sad," Taylor declared.
Troy looked up from where he was carefully stacking CD's into boxes. "To be fair, it's a big box. I have everything that is essential and nothing more. You did notice that I only have like, one cupboard here? It's not like I had room for rice cookers or blenders or fancy coffee machines!"
"Troy. Two plates, two bowls, two of each kind of silverware, a pot, a fry pan and a spatula does not meet the definition of everything essential."
"You did pack the take-out menus, right?" Chad joked.
"Don't exaggerate, I have two pots, and I know I have a pair of tongs and at least one stirring spoon. Oh, and a toaster, and a kettle..."
"Still. ONE BOX!"
It was Saturday afternoon when Troy and Andy were scheduled to move into their tiny, run down, two bedroom apartment in Prospect Heights, Brooklyn. It was in the same neighbourhood as where both Rhys and Jo lived, and just one block away from their new rehearsal space. They were forgoing any kind of luxury in their housing in order to put the extra cash into renting rehearsal space instead. The studio was run by a fellow who Andy used to go to school with, so they wound up with some decent rates. It was the kind of studio for a band who only had pennies to spend, pretty basic, no fancy equipment.
Troy's buzzer sounded – after months of being intermittently broken, they finally had sent someone to fix the intercom and security system. Troy jumped up and hit the button.
"Yo."
"It's me and Andy!" Gabriella's bright voice chirped.
Troy hit another button to allow them to come into the building, and unlocked the latch ready for when they would reach the door. Andy and Gabriella had gone out to get some pizza for a final farewell lunch to Troy's apartment. The day before Andy had moved the majority of his things into the new apartment, and now it was Troy's turn. They were both making sacrifices to make the band work, lifestyle and financial. This decision had been the hardest for Troy – to move away from his work, and away from her.
"I arrive with sustenance and muscle," Gabriella announced, opening the door. Andy was carrying three pizza boxes, she was carrying soda and plastic cups.
"I'm starving, Zeke and Sharpay had better get here soon, or I'll eat all of this!" Chad exclaimed, pouncing at the pizza.
Gabriella started the process of pouring out the soda into cups for everyone to grab, the worker bees pleased to be replenished. Even though it had been less than an hour since he'd seen her, Troy greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.
"So which stuff is going up the street?" Andy asked.
"Everything over there," Taylor said, gesturing to the left side of the room.
Troy reluctantly had agreed that it was wise to sell some of his furniture. He and Andy had decided who had the better of each common item, and the rest was being sold. Gabriella had volunteered to assist with the sale of Troy's furniture, and was going to take temporary possession. Being near NYU, she considered it likely she'd be able to sell them easily – though she was seriously considering keeping his couch. She had fond memories of that couch, built up over the months.
"It's amazing how big this place looks with the bed dismantled," Gabriella said, somewhat in awe, glancing around the studio apartment.
Troy's bed was going to be the biggest hassle to transport, however he had remained absolutely adamant about keeping it. It was the nicest piece of furniture in his apartment, and had been a gift from his parents after he moved into his own apartment out of the college dorms. With its high back and storage beneath, it had served perfectly in the studio apartment to provide an illusion of privacy.
"That thing is going to take up nearly all of your new room, you know," Taylor pointed out. "Are you sure you don't want to sell it? We have a spare mattress you can borrow, and..."
"No. It's coming," Troy said resolutely.
Sharpay and Zeke arrived soon after, snagging the remaining slices of pizza. The guys started to work on moving furniture downstairs, starting out with taking a load the few blocks away to Gabriella's place. It wasn't something completely out of the ordinary, in New York City neighbourhoods, to see people moving furniture or large boxes on foot. Meanwhile, Sharpay got to work with packing up the rest of Troy's clothes that he hadn't quite finished, and Taylor and Gabriella started to work on cleaning. Troy was hopeful he'd get his security deposit back, but not counting on it. Despite his bachelor lifestyle, he had treated the place reasonably and didn't think there was any permanent damage. The guys came back and started work on moving down boxes and furniture to Andy's van. Somehow they managed to fit it all in, with not an inch of spare space other than the passenger seat up front, who was going to be sharing foot space with a box.
"So, if you get the 1 then switch to 2 you'll walk less, but the B is quicker, or…" Andy started to explain, but Gabriella held her hand up.
"I know, I've been there, remember," Gabriella pointed out.
"Oh, you guys don't have to come help. You've been amazing enough here," Troy said, shaking his head.
"Please. We'll get all this knocked over really quickly if we come help," Chad insisted.
"Many hands make light work," Zeke agreed.
"You'd have to tie me up to stop me from coming," Gabriella declared.
"We don't need to hear about whatever kinky shit you guys get up to," Sharpay said, wrinkling her nose.
They all laughed, and with that, it seemed to be agreed. Troy and Andy headed in the van, with Troy giving Gabriella his keys, in anticipation that with traffic, it might just be faster to take the subway – and surely enough, even with a subway delay, the group on foot arrived first, largely thanks to Zeke convincing Sharpay to wear flats instead of heels. Gabriella felt at ease showing everyone inside – she'd been a part of the apartment hunt process, and had already been there three times. There were scattered pieces of furniture and boxes that had been brought by Andy the day before, but it was still very bare.
A quick observation of the fridge and cupboard was enough to know that the guys had practically zero food, even with Andy bringing a few things from his old place. Taylor and Chad went for a walk a couple of blocks to the grocery store to pick up some essentials, and by the time they returned back, Troy and Andy had arrived. Soon after, Rhys and Candice came by to help out. Within a few hours, the group together had all furniture put together, and everything unpacked with the exception of the guy's music gear – they were still debating the most productive station layout for the loft. The others weren't about to interfere with that argument and so it was left to be completed at a later time.
In the evening, the group all headed to Chavela's for a Mexican feast, with Troy and Andy shouting the group as a thank you for all of their help. After dinner the group split away, Candice heading with Rhys to his place; Zeke, Sharpay, Taylor and Chad back to the subway to head home. Gabriella, however, wordlessly said her farewells to everyone and retreated into Troy's new bedroom. They'd set up his bed, but it hadn't been made yet. He stood at the doorway, watching as she pulled the sheets over the mattress.
"You could help, you know," she teased, tossing a pillow and a pillow case to him.
He grinned and took a step inside. He shoved the pillow inside the pillow case, before tossing it into the bed and closing the door behind him. He sat on her freshly made bed and pulled her toward him, toying with her hands playfully.
"I noticed you brought a rather large bag with you," he commented. "Bring a few things, did you?"
She smiled coyly. "Well... you do have this lovely bedroom here to be christened," she ventured.
Normally this kind of a comment from her would be all it would take to pull the smooth talking, smouldering Troy out to play. Instead, he seemed to be looking at her somewhat questioningly.
"What?" she said warily.
"I know this place is a hole, you don't have to pretend to love it and to want to stay here," Troy said quietly.
"This place is not a hole. It's bigger than my first college suite," Gabriella shot back.
"The taps in the bathroom are rusty."
"The water comes out clean, that's all that matters. If the water came out brown, then I'd be worried."
Troy chuckled. "We have more privacy at your place."
"Troy... you're doing this for a reason. I'm in support of that reason. It's going to be hard enough to manage balancing full time work with full time music dedication, going backwards and forwards on the subway, if you're going to constantly want to make sure we always stay at my place. I'm fine here. Your bed is comfy, and by the time you guys get your stuff set up, the living area and loft is going to be this amazing musician's haven. And I'm pretty sure that Andy was well aware that I might be here sometimes when you guys agreed to do this."
Troy grinned, and joked, "Andy secretly hates you."
Gabriella narrowed her eyes, and jumped up from the bed, going out into the living area. Andy was sprawled on the sofa, music playing and reading a book, looking perfectly at home.
"Andy, you don't hate me, do you?" she demanded.
"T trying to convince you this place is a hole and he'll come with you back to your place?"
"Yes."
Andy rolled his eyes. "As long as you're not too loud, you're welcome any time."
"Thank you!"
"Traitor," Troy called back from his bedroom.
Gabriella closed the door behind her and returned to Troy, straddling him. "Enough nonsense."
"I just... I wish I could give you more. You deserve..."
Her index finger lightly pressed against his lips, silencing him. "Troy. I've been watching your muscles rip as you've been all manly, carrying boxes and making furniture all day. I came prepared with my toothbrush and clothes for tomorrow and very intentionally did not bring anything to sleep in tonight. I need you to stop talking now."
If her pointed words and the passion in her tone hadn't been enough to convince him, as her hand came to rest upon his denim covered crotch, lightly squeezing, any thoughts of clambering on the subway back to Manhattan were completely out of question.
xxx
After a vigorous lovemaking session – during which strangely, the necessity to ensure they both remained respectfully quiet somehow fuelled the passion – both Troy and Gabriella had fallen into a slumber, though it wasn't particularly late. Gabriella awoke after a nap, though from the light snore that Troy would deny, she could tell that he wasn't about to wake up any time soon. She quietly eased her way out of bed, dressing in his t-shirt, her panties and wrapping her robe around her which she'd brought along in her large tote bag. She took a quick trip to the bathroom and then headed into the kitchen. There was music playing from upstairs in the loft, and she glanced up.
"Andy?"
"Yo," his voice wafted down. A moment later, he appeared, and she automatically tightened her robe a little closer. He was peering down over the ledge of the balcony. "Wanna see the loft?"
"Sure," she agreed, and after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she headed up the stairs. As soon as she reached the top she was astounded by how much Andy had achieved.
Gabriella blinked. "Wow. You've been busy!"
"As have you…" Andy winced, watching Gabriella's face flush. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't say that. I'm seriously cool with it. It's not my first time living in a share house, and I'm not nineteen. It's just like this automatic thing to rib and jibe at T. I promise I'll get it under control."
Gabriella laughed, feeling a little more at ease. "Well, it looks great."
The main point of contention had been about whether the layout should be completely practical for the musician's point of view with instruments out and facing each other – allowing for maximum jamming and writing potential – or whether the apartment should be kept more presentable with things tucked further away and moved out when needed. It was Troy in favour of the first, Andy had wanted more room for 'other' inspiration, and had proceeded to fill a bookshelf with their various collection of sheet music, CD's, records, music DVD's and music related books; as well as throwing up an 'Abbey Road' canvas he had as well as a few other vintage rock posters. He'd set up a sound system – his own upstairs, it was Troy's that was downstairs – and dragged up a beanbag and some random cushions to scatter around next to the old sofa he'd had in his old garage music rehearsal space. Gabriella sat down on the couch, fingers running over the worn fabric.
"I've had this couch since college," Andy commented, sitting beside Gabriella. "When I went backpacking for a year, it lived with a buddy of mine, but I got it back later and she's been with me since."
Gabriella shook her head in amusement. "I'll never quite understand such sentimental attachment to items of furniture.
Andy raised his eyebrows. "Not even your own bed, put together by Mr. Muscles."
She blushed. "I find it so bizarre the level of detail that you know about me, and about me and Troy. Just because I didn't actually meet you for so many months. And really, what do I know about you?"
"I'm an open book. Well, mostly. What do you want to know?"
"Oh gosh. I wouldn't know where to begin. What's your favourite album of all time?"
Andy let out a low whistle. "You threw out a toughie for starters, couldn't have started with favourite colour?"
"You're a musician, you should know this."
"Yeah but, I find myself being inspired by different artists at different times. This week it could be Radiohead's OK Computer, next week The Dark Side of the Moon." When Gabriella appeared to be staring blankly back, he added with explanation, "Pink Floyd." She nodded in recognition.
"What about… of the last fifteen years?"
Andy's face contorted, still torn by the question but perhaps less so than the last impossibly difficult question.
"Maybe… Arcade Fire? Funeral? Or… The Strokes… no. Arcade Fire. Oh. You're awful. Next."
"Can I ask you another big question?"
"Is it going to be about my favourite concert ever? I have an answer to that."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it's not one I'm proud of though. It's Justin Timberlake. Man, the guy can perform."
"That's not what I was going to ask, though it's an interesting question and a totally unexpected answer."
"Go on," Andy said, with faux wariness.
"You've been around music a bit more… I guess seriously than Troy. I know you've written a lot, written for other bands, even had a charted track. I know you've been in a few bands, most not serious, but one that was pretty serious. You know people, this has really been your scene for a while. Is all this right?"
"Yes." Andy was matter of fact, and it didn't bother him that she knew things about him that he personally had not shared.
"Jo's great, but she's still young, a bit raw. She strikes me as maybe like… who you were, five years ago."
"Pretty accurate observation," Andy amused, impressed with Gabriella's observation.
"Rhys is obviously the baby here, but he seems to have the talent and drive. Troy obviously fell into all this, and has only just taken it seriously. So… you're my go-to, you're the guru, the guy with the wisdom and the experience. This industry is so new and foreign and crazy to me."
"Thanks. And understandably." Andy understood more than anyone how complicated the entertainment industry was.
Gabriella hesitated, and then asked her big question – the question that she could never ask Troy. "Is what you guys are doing… is it really, really crazy? I mean, it's crazy, undeniably, I think anyone who decides to commit themselves to these one in a million type careers has to be a bit crazy. But… could this really happen?" When Troy was in the room, she would be a one hundred percent optimistic cheerleader. She wasn't about to bring him down, not where his dreams and passions were concerned. But at the same time, she needed to know.
Andy was quiet a moment, contemplating her question. "You just read out some of my resume. I've been around a few different bands and performers. There's something here, with The Simple Need…. I can't explain it to you in words, it's entirely intangible. But there's just something I feel. If Drew and Steve had decided they wanted to knuckle down and Little Black Book had started taking this shit seriously, and you'd asked me this, I'd have told you we were pretty fucking insane. But this here… yeah, it's crazy. It probably won't happen. But… I think it just could."
"Not sure how I feel about being a legitimate rock star girlfriend," Gabriella joked.
"How do you feel about penthouses and private jets?" Andy joked.
"You really are aiming high!"
"Dare to dream."
"You surely can't be in it for the money?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"Oh, fuck no. If you care about money, you don't pursue a career in music. I'd be better off taking my telemarketing side-gig seriously, I've got pretty good sales skills, and I tell you, the commission ain't bad."
Gabriella could faintly hear the creak of a door downstairs opening, presumably from Troy's bedroom.
"Have you left me for him already?" Troy's voice called out from downstairs.
Gabriella giggled. "You were asleep, I was bored."
"Sorry man, gotta keep your eye on these crazy women," Andy said, deadpan.
Troy clambered up the stairs, and was immediately flummoxed by Andy's work.
"Sorry, I kinda took over. If you hate it, I'm open to suggestion," Andy said quickly. "I was just bored and… this happened."
Troy sighed. It looked pretty sweet, and it wasn't like they had a full music set up, with just a few guitars, keys and a few small percussion instruments. "You win. For now anyway, let's call it a trial period."
Gabriella shook her head. "Is this the advantage of being in the bromance? Getting him to give in that quickly, let you win the argument?"
"Hey, I let you win plenty," Troy said defensively. "Just not when you're clearly wrong."
They all laughed.
"What food do we have, bro?" Troy questioned.
"Bits and pieces. Think there's some chips, bread, maybe some fruit?"
Troy padded back down the stairs into the kitchen, standing in front of the cupboard for a minute before settling upon a loaf of bread and popping two slices down into the toaster. "Anyone want some peanut butter on toast?"
"Nah, I'm good," Andy replied.
"Can I have a bite of yours?" Gabriella called down.
Troy paused, and pulled out a third slice of bread, popping it down on the other side of the toaster. "Sure, babe."
He returned with his plate of goodies as well as a tall glass of milk, nestling down into the bean bag chair. The trio eased into easy small talk conversation, chatting about how the move had gone, about plans for rehearsal the next day. Troy passed Gabriella a piece of toast to take a bite from, and after taking a few more bites, noted she didn't say no upon being offered a second bite, and then a third and fourth bite from his second piece of toast.
"It's pretty cold up here," Gabriella remarked with a small shiver.
"Yeah, I was thinking that before. This apartment will get hella cold in winter. There's a Best Buy at Atlantic Terminal, hopefully we can pick up something cheap," Andy mused.
"Do you guys want to go downstairs and watch a DVD?" Troy suggested.
"I'm gonna bail. I haven't had my power nap today," Andy pointed out with a hint of a tease to his tone. "Time for this old fella to crash."
"Old fella, hardly," Troy laughed.
"Thanks for the chat," Gabriella said giving Andy a small smile.
"Any time. Now remember kids, don't stay up too late, we have a big day of kicking ass rehearsing in the morning before the gig in the afternoon," Andy said, his tone mostly joking, but an edge of seriousness.
"Get out, old man," Troy shot back.
"What DVD?" Gabriella asked.
"What if I let you pick, but I get three vetoes?" Troy suggested.
"Hrm… okay."
Andy had a crazy selection of DVDs, picked up throughout time from thrift stores and bargain bins, and a whole collection from a trip he'd had in his early twenties backpacking through South East Asia which finished in Bali where he came back with dozens of DVDs of questionable authenticity.
After vetoing Clueless (which Gabriella knew was a long shot) Troy agreed upon Empire Records. He grabbed the comforter from his freshly made but already messed up bed to pull over them.
"See. This can be home," Gabriella murmured from her place nestled into his side as the opening credits rolled.
Troy smiled, pulling her a little closer. "You're right. It can be."