A/N: I could probably go on and on with excuses of the lateness, but I swear over my dead body that I had writer's block. I knew what I was going to do, I just didn't know how to write it. God, I was so irritated. :( Anyway, I'm not completely satisfied with this, so tell me how it is.
Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or any of these characters except mine. The list is beginning to become too long to name.
Troy Bolton had sides.
Troy Bolton, like everyone else, acted as purely innocent as an angel at some times, and acted as betrayingly evil as a devil at others.
But Troy Bolton, unlike everyone else, had real, definitive sides. Personalities. However you want to put it. And, these strict personalities, sides—different Troys—were all part of him. Somewhere; either deep down inside him or skimming right on the surface.
What triggered them? What set them off and caused them to be so uncontrollable?
Places.
Just being somewhere, mostly places that meant much and were close to his heart, changed Troy Bolton. And. Nothing. Else. That was a well-known fact in that complex head of his. He couldn't manage or direct those bursting, different people—it was too many people against one broken, weak heart, aching with every tired, strained beat.
And on that chilly, grim Saturday night, it was no different.
Troy, deep inside, did not like this Troy, there in New Mexico. But it just came naturally and unstoppably with the environment, territory, and atmosphere—boom. Rebel, selfish Troy was born. Maybe it was the desperate need to fill the boring, almost painful innocence and tranquility of the area. Maybe it was his controlling, narrow-minded father who strived to make his rowdy son the ideal one of perfection he always had yearned for. Maybe it was the fact that his mother was too far away to keep him in line and care for him. Troy didn't know. He didn't exactly want to either, but he knew he needed to find out to stop the New Mexico Troy.
To anyone who didn't know better, Troy appeared as if he had just gulped down several pots of coffee and hadn't slept in days. His rough hands were trembling on the leather-covered driving wheel, his weary, discolored eyes absentmindedly gazing out at the dull, grave sky, about to explode with ice-water droplets any second. Troy simply pressed his pale lips into a thin, serious line.
Just one time.
He just needed to forget and recharge. Just do what he wanted. One time. And then he would start over. Then he would continue his lengthy, coarse journey to discovering the Troy he permanently wanted to be. He was sick of the different Troys. For now, he knew he would have to deal with them. But later, he hoped he wouldn't have to.
Chad didn't know he had arrived yet. Neither did Sharpay. Nor Taylor. Or anyone. Troy didn't want them to know. They couldn't. They'd ruin everything, and as rude as it sounded, it only seemed truer. Troy felt awkward; somewhat like a ghost in a vaguely familiar place. A place he used to fondly call his home. He felt out of place in that new world. And that's what it was. At least, it seemed that way. Like it was a whole different world. A separate universe, galaxy.
Troy had definitely been gone too long.
Troy thought he knew this place. And he used to. He used to know the whole state like all the players on the Los Angeles Lakers basketball team. But that had unexpectedly changed, and Troy was rather…intimidated. The rather empty roads felt like they were merely from a dream he had too often.
Troy swallowed hoarsely, tapping his fingers against the wheel as he waited for the red light to shine green.
Just one night, he thought to himself. For after all, you can't be seventeen forever.
It's like I waited my whole life for this one night
It's gon' be me, you, and the dance floor
'Cause we only got one night
Double your pleasure, double your fun
Chris Brown blared loudly all over the amplified speakers, so deafeningly that I could feel my eardrums pounding, only resulting in excruciating annoyance. My heart was hammering in my chest so impatiently that I felt nauseous.
I couldn't do this. I just couldn't bring myself to let go like this. I wanted to. I really did; but when I got to the point, it just wasn't that easy.
I was lingering near the kitchen, where the large array of beverages was displayed openly across the table. I checked each drink—every single one was alcoholic. Even the bright red punch was spiked. I could smell the intoxicating fumes, so strong that it gave me a headache. Teenagers were swallowing and chugging down the alcohol as if it were water, taking more and more and more. They were forcing the poisoning liquid into their systems, not even realizing the harms it could cause them, in the near or distant future. I didn't understand how they could keep going, one drink after another. I'd only had one sip of beer my entire life, and I never went back. Just the bitter taste and the swarming thoughts of the alcohol's ills made me sick alone.
I felt stupid, just standing there awkwardly, wallowing around in the kitchen, my eyes darting around, looking for signs of danger. Even though it was packed with drunken high schoolers, half of them unable to stand up straight, I was intimidated. I was scared. I felt so out of place. Like I didn't belong there. I didn't even know anyone.
I had driven for about two hours. Yes, two hours. I had looked for the biggest house party I could find, that was also far. I didn't want to know anyone. That would ruin the whole point. I didn't want to be surrounded by people who would only tease me the day later; I just wanted strangers and to get wasted. I didn't have the nerve. And apparently, most of these kids went to a high school called Cedarvale High School. I'd never so much as heard of it. I didn't even know the kid whose party it was. Just some kid named…Justin Wagenbach. Either way, his house was huge. Bigger than Preppy's. It appears that he was filthy rich. Well, I mean, go figure.
The whole feel of the party felt dirty. Wrong. Disgusting. I just couldn't help but feel guilty.
Dazed teens were tumbling about, tripping over their own two feet, half-full and half-empty beer bottles clutched in their hands, and leaving a strong stench of alcohol behind them. Their "dancing" was a pathetic excuse for shameless grinding, and they all did spontaneously against each other; against random people they didn't even know. The crowded dance floor was primarily the enormous living room, which had been cleared of its couches, but there were people "dancing" all over the elegant mansion. The dark, almost pitch-black rooms were dimmed with mysterious shadows, only barely illuminated by the blindingly bright neon lights of the deejay's supply.
"H-Hey, huh…hot s-stuff."
I whipped around, my heart beating wildly in alarm at the slurring voice, unsurprised to see it was a clearly drunken man. His hair was wildly disheveled and there were sagging purple bags under his beady, unfocused eyes. His head was lolling around on his neck, as if he had no control over it. The rather buff senior was leaning on the counter for support, taking a quick mouthful of the beer clenched in his calloused hand.
"W-Want m-meh tuh…t-to…uh…d-do yuh…y-you?" he forcibly stammered, choking on the alcohol that was still pooled in his mouth. The beer spilled as drool and spit slid from his mouth, dripping in rivers down his shirt. Immediately, I inched away, my stomach rumbling in terror.
That guy was dangerous. At least, he looked it. What if I had gotten drunk too, and he'd gotten his hands on me? What if he had raped me? What if we had sex and he got me pregnant? He looked pretty strong and muscular. What if he abused me? What if I got severely hurt from that? What if…what if…? And the questions just went on and on, infinitely.
No, Gabriella, my inner voice fought. That doesn't matter, and the chances of that happening are, um, low. So. Just. Let. Go.
I straightened out my beige Abercrombie & Fitch sweater anxiously, picking off some lint that had adhered. It was a surprisingly chilly night, so I had reluctantly resided to long corduroy pants and a light, long-sleeved sweater, the kind that was a thick band of material across your breasts and then had the bottom flowing freely.
I pressed my lips together, surveying the full counter of alcoholic drinks and inhaling deeply. There was everything from expensive wines, to frosty imported beers, to ingredients for a cocktail. I was going to do it, and I couldn't go back after I did this. I closed my eyes hesitantly, reaching my hand out and randomly selecting. I blinked open my eyes to find myself face to face with the logo of a Budweiser. Drawing in a deep breath, I slowly screwed open the cap, my hands shaking uncontrollably, deciding to dive in right away and swigging down a taste of the amber liquid.
It.
Tasted.
Terrible.
I couldn't even correctly describe the bitterness; so strong it was like drinking my own sour tear-filled life. I reflexively dropped the beer bottle, the glass shattering all over the floor and the foamy solution splattering all over the tiled kitchen floor. I immediately ran, my hand enclosed tightly over my mouth and my throat about to close up, searching for the nearest bathroom. Thank God the first one I found was empty. I violently kicked open the door, throwing myself in urgency at the spotlessly white sink and gagging, spitting out every drop of the beer.
I was never trying alcohol again.
Period.
So what was next then? My plan was destroyed. There was still the "dancing" left—and so wiping my mouth thoroughly (and gargling water a few times), I tentatively ventured to the main dance floor, my bones shuddering. I was demoralized, and so pathetically scared. I felt five years old, idling near the doorway shyly and staring out at the condensed mass of people that seemed to move as one against the heavy beat of the loud music. My eyes flurried shut briefly as I tried to ready myself, finally taking the stab and suddenly squeezing between the people, meddling myself into the center of the clutter.
It was easier once I began. I hadn't danced in so long that instead of feeling odd, it felt amazingly refreshing to dance again. I just moved naturally, so easily and swiftly with the steady rhythm of the music, which was so earsplittingly loud that I could feel the walls quaking.
You are young and so am I
And this is wrong, but who am I to judge?
You feel like heaven when we touch
I guess for me this is enough
I could feel my skin growing hot, quickly beginning to boil under my thin sweater and making my forehead sweat a little. But I continued dancing, completely determined. I was going to do whatever I wanted tonight. There were no rules. There weren't. Right?
Yet, I was still convulsing pitifully inside.
For God's sake, I was seventeen. Why was I so scared? I was just going to let go. No boundaries. No limits. Just freedom.
We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight
Metro Station was right. I wasn't going to be seventeen forever. Only more of a reason to keep dancing—more of a reason to get wasted and get laid. I was going to be eighteen in December. That gave me roughly two or three months of seventeen-year-old me. I just needed to forget. I needed to just move and do and feel, not think or worry. I needed to clear my head. Then I would figure out my next step.
I took in a deep breath, only to end up coughing, as the air was contaminated with thick smoke and gray fog. There seemed to be a layer of darkness on everything.
You are young and I am scared
You're wise beyond your years but I don't care
And I can feel your heartbeat
You know exactly where to take me
I suddenly felt two strong, muscular arms wrap around my waist.
I almost screamed.
It was that horny drunken guy I'd encountered before. I knew it was.
I could feel my heart jolting in nervousness, my eyes widening in sudden fright.
Calm down, Gabriella, I thought to myself, desperately trying to catch my breath. Just go with it. Just dance with him. You can escape later.
So I began swaying my hips invitingly and licking my lips to allure him. I could feel his eyes transfixed hypnotically on the back of my head. I smiled slyly to myself, almost proud. I ran my own fingers through my dark curls, trying my ultimate best to look sexy. I smirked when I felt his deeply focused eyes still plastered to me in a hazy daze.
We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight
Suddenly, I felt large, rigid hands grip my waist firmly, yanking me against their sturdy chest.
I gasped aloud from the surprise, and I felt him grinning mischievously at my realization.
Oh, God.
Ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Ooh ooh, ooh ooh
And before I could wrench away, his skillful fingers had pushed up my thin sweater a mere inch, the pads of his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on my hipbones. My breath caught in my throat as unpredicted sparks shot through my body, alarming me and making my eyes enlarge tremendously. I couldn't help but lean back into his chiseled form, despite the logical part of me screaming otherwise in my mind. His arms enveloped around me, and we continued to move together, his hips rolling up and pushing against my ass. I could feel his hot and heavy breath on my neck, misting not only my skin but my sight too. My eyes fluttered close at the amazing feeling, my stomach doing wild somersaults when his moist lips brushed against my shoulder. His busy mouth ventured up to my awaiting neck in a series of sucking, licking, and kissing, and by the time he reached the spot near my ear, I was willingly melting into his open arms.
Will you remember me?
You ask me as I leave
Remember what I said?
Oh, how could I, oh, how could I forget?
I hadn't done this in so long, felt this in so long. It felt reviving to have someone's lips on me so intimately like that. His anxious hands delved into my thick hair, pulling me closer with immense need against his solid figure. His hands didn't stop for a single second, traveling to my taught stomach under my top, stroking it with the gentlest touch I had ever felt. My stomach muscles contracted uncontrollably with each tantalizing moment of contact, my aching heart lifting at the tenderness that enhancedthe air.
Gabriella, the practical side of me warned, Leave before he kisses you. Then you know you won't be able to stay away.
I knew it was so true. But I just couldn't haul myself away. It increased to seem impossible as his eager hand played with the hem of my pants, finally digging itself in between my tight corduroys and my perspired skin. I felt my throat begin to seal threateningly as he fingered the lacy fabric of my panties tauntingly, and colors blurred my vision as he rubbed my skin in a surprisingly soft manner. A moan escaped from the back of my throat, irrepressible and not enough to express the enticing feeling he was evoking inside me. My thin sweater seemed thick as the heightening heat of the room augmented enormously, my sweaty forehead as drenched as my panties.
We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight
The disco dance music poured into my ears, supplying my system with energy. I declined back into his hard chest, unable to hide my knowing grin at the poking I felt on my ass. I wrapped a slender arm around his neck, sighing aloud as he resumed sucking on that spot near my ear. My knees wobbled weakly, but a steady arm caught them just as they gave way. He sniggered against my ear, dropping a chaste kiss to it and causing my heart to thrash around frantically. He scooped me up in his tough arms easily, as if I were merely a light doll. He whipped me around, setting me back onto my feet once more, keeping an arm around my waist for support.
We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight
My head finally inclined up to glance at his face, and I almost died from shock as our eyes met. My fascinated gaze just wouldn't rip away no matter how hard I tried. It was hopeless. His sapphire eyes were electrifying, and they seemed to suddenly cause everything in my body to awaken, all at once. I could feel tension building in my chest, trapped between the bars of my rib cage and making me feel like I was going to blow up. His luminous cobalt eyes creased as he grinned, in somewhat of a knowing, sexy way, and before I knew it his hand had dove into my flourishing, heavy hair, running his fingers through it and caressing the base of my head. I just stared at him, deeply entranced, my eyes searching his own mystifying ones in awe.
We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight
Without a wait, he had pushed my sweaty forehead to meet his, and he pasted a kiss onto my nose, my insides having a party at just the sheer feeling of our skin touching one another's. He began peppering rough kisses all over my face; on my forehead, my cheeks, my eyelids, my chin…. He didn't hesitate as he reached my lips, placing his larger pink ones on my smaller ones. He tugged at my bottom lip, smirking into the kiss, then attacking my lips hungrily. I couldn't resist looping my arms around his neck and pulling him lusciously closer, ignoring the scolding in the back of the logical part of my cerebellum. His hands eagerly pressed my small body even closer to his, my plump breasts creating delicious friction against his sculpted chest.
The chorus of the song rang in my ears, over and over, like a broken record. One mistake, one careless accident, could be a permanent burden. Maybe I could get away this tonight. And maybe I couldn't.
Ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Ooh ooh, ooh ooh
My arousal was escalating with each breath I took, each breath he took. The pulsation in between my legs grew closer together and closer to unbearable with each desperate kiss and each attempt to press our bodies closer. All my morals were completely numbed by now, and I gave in even further. We couldn't even qualify as dancing anymore. He seemed to recognize this, his flawlessly gratifying mouth curving into a cheeky smile against my lips. He made a quick move to pull away, but I just wouldn't let him, vehemently shoving his head down to capture mine. I didn't know what had come over me, but I wanted him and I was sure of it. I just felt that burgeoning need, that vitality to have him, right then and there. Nothing else mattered.
Ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Ooh ooh, ooh ooh
He finally yanked his lips away, though reluctantly, his mesmerizing eyes boring into mine as he leaned in and whispered in my ear, his hot breath tickling me, "Haven't seen you in a while." I shivered at his playful yet grimly frightening voice, so unfamiliar from what I remembered. He nibbled on my ear teasingly before adding with a heart-tugging leer on his face, "Nice to you see you again, Gabriella."
He reattached our lips instantly before I could respond, a new sense of lascivious yearning and lustful need surging through both of our bodies, though he seemed more enthusiastic and eager than I. He cupped my buttocks, pushing up and signaling to me to wrap my legs around his waist, and I ardently obeyed. Suddenly, he was quickly shoving and pushing his way through the dense pack of people, not once my tongue leaving from its home in his warm mouth.
Before I could register where we were, he had slammed me impatiently against the nearest wall, his lips ravishing my neck in crucial necessity. My hot skin was burning, completely on fire from the erotic feel of his skin and lips on me. I could feel sweat trickling down my forehead, but I barely cared at the intolerable heat, as the throbbing below me grew stronger and more unendurable. I couldn't suppress my moans at the feel of him, his pelvis grinding against mine. My hair was tangled all about, and I grinned as I glimpsed his beautiful brown hair, also tousled and all over the place, but still gorgeous as ever. Our heavy breathing was the only thing I could hear, the exotic, beautiful sound filling my ears and drowning out the blaring music in the background.
"God, I need you," he grunted against my now almost fully exposed chest. He had drawn my the front of my sweater very low, so low I couldn't help but feel self-conscious. I managed to nullify the feelings, trying to not think about that and just focus on him. "What you do to me. You don't even know," he panted heavily.
Where all one-night stands this good?
Because how would I know?
He gave my butt a breezy squeeze, his hands floating under my sweater and scanning the region of my bra. I gasped out in what was converted into a strangled moan, grabbing a fistful of his damp hair and pulling with each centimeter higher he voyaged.
Was I supposed to feel those unmoving butterflies in my stomach, twittering around like mad? He attacked my lips ferociously, my nose rubbing against and making vibrations trail down my spine. I couldn't see anything else but him and his beautiful face. Those amazing eyes, that gorgeous hair, that perfectly formed nose, and those prized lips. The feeling of having someone so breathtakingly close was a fact I tried to embrace, and I tightened my legs around his waist, forcing him closer.
Was I supposed to feel so…invigoratingly alive? My senses were completely blazing, so energetic and active that it made me dizzy. I felt his humid skin, smelled his riveting cologne, heard his desperate breathing, saw his perfect enthralling body, and tasted his delectable, unique mouth. Was I supposed to feel so precious, so real? I had never felt so cherished or so exhilarated. The undeniable charge surging in me kept me going; kept my hands running all over him and my lips assailing his. Was it normal for him to be the only thing I could think about? I just wanted him, and him to be inside me. All other thoughts were squashed and thrown carelessly aside. Was it normal for my brain to be so foggy? Hot, sexy, want, want, want, lips, eyes, blue, hair, brown, chin, neck, skin, skin, skin, breathe…breathe…breathe… I could barely think straight. Nothing was making sense. Nothing needed to. And for once, I was relieved.
Was he feeling the same way?
The central question took longer to evaporate from my mind.
The lust pulsing in my veins felt so achingly familiar. The static feeling was so memorable and recognizable that it hurt. The fierce intensity that intoxicated the hefty atmosphere stretched to agonizing, and the drained organ that was my heart deeming of giving up.
He lifted me up suddenly, levitating me above the ground by my armpits as if I were a baby. He hastily searched for an empty room, pummeling down the long, shadowed hallways. He finally kicked open the door to one of the smaller bedrooms at the end of the hall, thankfully vacant and the bed still luckily made. He banged the door closed just as quickly with his knee, plopping me onto the bed hastily and collapsing on top of me. I grimaced at the immense body weight, though continued the kiss him.
This was not the man I remembered. No, he was acting like a foolish, immature teenage boy, and to think his eighteenth birthday was not far away. I internally frowned, deciding to dwell on the shameful truth later, gasping out at he began licking my sticky neck.
The room was filled with steam, pasting itself to my skin. It was so horrendously hot. My face was boiling as if I had a fever. I whipped off my sweater and shirt underneath, and he tore off his own T-shirt, his eyes widening at the sight of my breasts only held captive by my bra. He dove down immediately, lavishing every inch of uncovered skin on my chest, effortlessly unclasping my bra and chucking it behind him. It took everything I had in me not to cross my arms over my chest. Instead, I busied myself my outlining his distinct six-pack, smirking to myself when satisfied moans emitted from his mouth.
"I need you," he huffed, gaping for oxygen. He fingered some strands of my moist, dark hair, staring enchantingly into my eyes. "Fuck, I need you now."
I simply nodded, tears brimming my eyes out of the blue at the blunt confession. I felt so used, but I knew that was what one-night stands were in a nutshell. As he began paving a path of kisses down my bare chest and stomach, I shook my head vigorously, trying to rid the tears that were more than ready to spill. Why was I acting this way? This was only a one-time thing. Sure it was stupid, but I just needed to the release. My stomach was flipping with every kiss, every suck, every lick, every brush…every tempting touch. Was it because I was so desperate?
The faint, white glow of the moon shone through the window, casting a vague spotlight on the bed and our bodies. He ripped away his own pants, not daring to waste any time. He unbuttoned my tight corduroys, hastily dragging them off my legs in a rough manner and pecking kisses all over my legs. I forced his boxers off, my breath arresting at the sight of his fully aroused penis, sticking up proudly. His eyes flickered up to meet mine, and he grinned naughtily, as if he knew something I didn't, snatching my wrists and pinning them to my sides. He tore open a condom package, rolling the rubber on as fast as he could and positioning himself at my entrance. He slipped off my panties, not even asking and suddenly plunging his stone-hard manhood inside me.
I immediately groaned, my head stiffly falling back against the pillow and my eyes shutting reflexively at the pain. Tears welled in my eyes as he instantaneously began moving, rocking above me. I winced, though tried to cover it up, almost fainting when his lips covered mine. I could hardly move. Gradually, very gradually, the pain slowly morphed into pleasure, which began building and building up, faster and faster. Sweat dripped down his back, and I latched my hands onto his slippery shoulders, my fingernails digging into his sticky skin. I brought my upper body up as I clung to him, feeling the pressure nearing and ready to burst. He was moaning in my ear, nipping it with his lips as he continued thrusting into me. He pushed me back onto the bed in one brisk motion; grabbing my legs, bending them at the knees, and pressing them against my chest so he had easier quicker access. His blows were beginning to become almost too intense—I could barely breathe. The fireworks erupting in the room were something I'd never felt before, unforeseen but amazing. His fingers trailed up and down my shivering arms, making my chest feel clogged with exasperation. I wove my legs around his waist, using it as an anchor to pull my body even higher, my full breasts smushing against his concrete chest.
As I neared my orgasm, my nails sunk into him deeper. I didn't even have the energy to do anything else. I felt my thighs tighten, and suddenly, I burst with a last thrust, moaning uncontrollably through pursed lips and clenching onto him tighter. I felt his hand on the back of my head, pressing my face into the sweaty crook of his neck as he met his peak with me, and I squeezed his shoulders as I braced myself. I crumpled back against the bed, utterly exhausted, my chest moving up and down unstoppably. I had never done so much exercise in my life at once, sad to say.
Our straggled breathing echoed through the otherwise quiet, still room, the violent music from downstairs faint and in the back of our minds.
I couldn't believe what I'd just done. It seemed surreal. I wasn't even sure what was happening; I wasn't even conscious, was I? Was this just a dream, a fantasy? But I didn't want it to go away. I wanted to wade in the fairytales, elude from reality for just the second I could. And I had succeeded, for the first time in a long time in anything.
The dark skies were still a solemn gray outside, the sullen clouds blending themselves with the cold and stirring up rain for the grand downpour. The window next to the bed was wide open, a cool gust of icy winter wind chilling the room and making me shiver, the beads of sweat on my skin beginning to dry. The moon was sneaking behind the gloomy clouds, hiding in refuge from the sharp rain that was soon to flood the earth.
My hands were absentmindedly threading themselves through his matted hair, his head having dropped lazily in the middle of my stomach. He suddenly sat up, straddling me, and my mouth dropped open in surprise. But he didn't do anything.
He simply stared.
He gazed right at me, in a sort of dazed, observant way. Not really dreamy. Just thinking, really hard and dangerously deep. I could almost see the thoughts grazing in his mind.
And suddenly, shocking me, most pathetically, he started to cry.
A/N: Um, so yeah. I lied. I was going to explain everything this chapter, but then it would have been too long. Sorry! God, I bet everyone hates me to death right now... :(
Disclaimer: I do not own Forever by Chris Brown or Seventeen Forever by Metro Station. I don't own Budweiser either or Abercrombie & Fitch.