Sharpay

Last night I was pretty angry with Peyton, he promised me that he was gonna show up but he never did. I tried calling him. I gave him a text. I even emailed him for crying out loud and he didn't even answer me. I'm angry with him right now because he promised me that he would've been there last night but he wasn't. He didn't show. There could've been someone there last night that could've been important. Okay, it was just me but still, I'm important and he should come here to see me.

I've just performed the final scene of the show. It went great, of course it did, I'm the best here and I'm great at what I did. As I walk down from the stage, my bodyguard is protecting me from the screaming fans. I have fans and it's amazing. It's what I've always dreamed of. My name in lights. My face on all of the billboards around Broadway. People screaming and shouting my name. It's a dream come true. I'm being guided back to my dressing room, which has my name in a star because that's who I am now, I'm a star. My bodyguard, Russ, is a big guy and I mean a real big guy. Big muscles and a bald head. He even scares me. Just looking at him and I'm scared but when you get to know him he's a big teddy bear and I know that he'll always protect me. He leaves the room and stands outside, his arms folded across his chest, making sure that nobody enters my room unless they know me. I walk over to my vanity table and apply extra make-up to my face. You would've thought that I would have somebody do that for by now but they only do my make-up for the show, everything else I have to do for myself, which I'm not bothered about because I can do my make-up perfectly and it looks beautiful because, of course, it's on me. I powder my nose with a big power pad. I have to make sure that it doesn't make me look like I've done something that I shouldn't have, if you know what I mean. I hear a knock on my door.

"Entre," I say as I carry on applying make-up to my face. Russ opens the door.

"Miss Evans," he says in a very deep voice. "Peyton is here for you." I turn around and look at him.

"Okay," I say with a sweet tone in my voice. "Let him in." Russ turns back around and allows Peyton to enter the room. I turn around and look at him and smile small at him. "So, you actually decided to come and see me tonight, I see." He gives me a look which concerns me. He's giving me a look that I've never seen him give me before. He shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a deep breath.

"Sharpay," he says in a sad tone in his voice. "There's something that I need to talk to you about." Okay, now I'm worried. I stand up and look at him.

"You need to talk to me about something," I say with concern in my voice. "What do you have to say to me?" He takes another deep breath and walks over to me. He glances down at the ground and then looked back up at me. I wish he would say what he wants to say quickly so he can get it over and done with, the suspense is killing me and he knows that. I wonder if that's why he's doing it.

"Sharpay," he says after taking another deep breath, "lately I feel like we've been breaking apart. We aren't spending enough time with each other."

"That's not just my fault," I say defensively. "I'm not the only one who can't make things. You said that you were gonna come here last night but you never came. Don't make it out just to be my fault."

"And I'm not saying that it's your fault," he answers me. "I'm saying that we haven't been spending time with each other. I've been busy and you've been busy. It's like we don't make time for each other anymore."

"But I thought this is what you wanted for me?" I ask him. "You're the one who got me my first Broadway show"

"I know that I did," he answers me. "And I'm glad that I did help you, I really am because you're a big star, a huge star and I'm proud of you but I never thought that we wouldn't spend time with each other. I thought that we would spend more time with each other than we do."

"So, what are you saying, exactly?" I question him, because right now I'm completely and utterly confused.

"I think that maybe us being together isn't such a great thing anymore," he finally answers me. I feel my kneels starting to shake, but I want to stay strong because that is who I am. I'm Sharpay Evans, I'm supposed to be strong all the time and I shall never show my weakness to others, not ever. I flick my head and hair back and look at him, acting like this isn't affecting me at all.

"So, you're saying that we should break up?" I say back to him, pretending like it's not breaking my heart, but deep down inside, actually not that deep, it's actually not far from the surface, he's breaking it into a thousand pieces, shattering it. Grabbing it out of my chest and stomping on it a million times.

"Yeah," he nods. "I think that it would be better if we did break up." I cross my arms across my chest and carry on looking at him, not acting like it's bothering.

"Fine," I say back without any emotion in my voice. "If that's what you want then that's gonna happen. But to get this clear, now that we've broken up, I don't think that we should stay in contact with one another, if we're breaking up because we don't see each other then we won't meet up, be friends and say anything to one another." That would the best thing because right now, I don't even wanna see him or think about him ever again.

"If that's what you want," he nods once more. "Then that's what we'll do. I'm sorry that it had to end this way." Sure he is. I bet he's already got somebody lined up. I carry on acting like I don't give a damn, like the 'Ice-Queen' that I'm supposed to be.

"Okay," I nod, pretending like I don't give a damn. "You know where the door is, Peyton, you may leave now." I turn around and walk back to my vanity table and sit down on my stool and carry on applying my make-up to my face. I hear him sigh and he turns around and leaves through the door. When he closes the door behind him, I close my eyes. I can feel the tears building up in my eyeballs. I didn't want to let him see me cry, to see that I was more upset about the break-up than him. I didn't want him to know how weak I was. He's already seen me cry once before and never again will I allow him to see my tears. A boy isn't worth my tears, that's what my mom would always say and I believe her. I will not allow a boy to see my tears. I open my eyes and allow the tears to stream down my face.

I hear a knock on the door. I groan hard because I don't want to see anybody, especially not now. My fans usually want to get an autograph from me but right now, I'm not in the mood for it. I don't want them to see me like this. I'm supposed to be strong and here I am crying my eyes out. I know people expect other people to get upset when they've just been dumped but not Sharpay Evans, according to them I don't show emotion, none other than happiness and well a total and utter bitch. I hear a knock on the door again. I look through the mirror, looking at the reflection of the door through the mirror. Russ opens the door and looks through.

"Miss Evans," he says with his deep voice. "There is somebody here to see you." I shake my head.

"I don't want to see anybody, Russ," I reply back to him. He leans his head through the door more.

"I'm sorry to disrupt you again, Miss Evans," he says. "But this person said that he knew you from high school. He said that his name was Troy Bolton." My eyes widen, I'm shocked, Troy, Troy Bolton from high school is actually here to see me. I turn around to the door quickly and look at Russ.

"Did you just say Troy Bolton?" I question him. I still can't believe that he actually said his name. Russ steps to the side and as he steps to the side, Troy appears. Troy Bolton is actually standing beside Russ, in New York, outside my dressing room. I'm completely and utterly in shock, I must be dreaming, I must be.

"Hey, Sharpay," he finally says. 'This isn't a dream, oh my god.'