Okay so it's pretty crazy how I even came up with this idea. I was getting my nails done, and this guy was doing them, and no one take this the wrong way! But sometimes I find it kinda funny (good funny!) how guys sometimes get involved in the beauty or fashion department. Anyways, the guy didn't seem gay or anything, but I kinda thought of Ryan Evans and how I've seen him gay in stories often, and decided that it would be fun to write total gay-Ryan lol. Then I thought, hm, how can I make something like that a Troypay then? (Cos you know how obsessed I am with them) Anyways, I thought about how I've seen a couple of Tryan stories too, and then...tada! I came up with this. It should be fun and interesting to write xD. But we're not talking just liking boys gay...he wears makeup too. Once again, no one take offense at how I make Ryan, or take it the wrong way. I'm not trying to 'make fun' of gay people or anything like that.

Summary: Twenty four year old Sharpay Evans meets a 'once-upon-a-time'-bisexual Troy Bolton. They meet at a barber shop, and they fall in love. The problem? Her twin brother used to date him. And it seems like Ryan wants him back. Troypay/Tryan.

Rating: T for sexual related topics and language...which /might/ be turned into M. Strong might. (If I do, nothing's really going to be like dirty detailed M or anything, just kind of the talk of it. :P Why don't you give me your opinion in a review at the end? Thanks.)

Note: Story has nothing to do with either High School Musical movie.

My Brother's Ex.

A HeSaidSheSaidx fanfic.

Chapter One - The Hunky Hairdresser.

Is it normal for a girl to feel insulted when her brother always seems to look prettier then she does? Is it normal for that girl to feel jealous of her brother? What about the fact that he seems to take longer to get ready then she does?

Because if that's not normal, then I don't know what the hell normal is. I don't think most girls ever feel intimidated by her brother, but sometimes I feel that way. With his fashionable french hats and spiffy fedoras, his shiny shoes, and dashing sparkly broadway-style shirts, I can't really help it. Growing up, my brother Ryan always seemed to be the more fashionable one between the two of us- and this is coming from a girl whose dream is to be a world-famous fashion designer. (well... I could be that now if I wanted, maybe not 'world-famous' just yet, but more about that later.)

Call me crazy, I know. But like I said- I can't really even help it. I usually don't have these thoughts, because I've become used to it. It's the times like these when I'm waiting impatiently for him to hurry up and get ready when I've been ready for half an hour, that these thoughts force their way back into my blonde head.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I've become used to him always managing to look prettier then I do whenever we're out somewhere together. I've grown used to (but sometimes quite pissed) that sometimes when we're walking along the streets together, I spot a hot guy who (I think) waves to me, and I wave back, only to soon discover that the hot guy is really checking my brother out, and not me. I've become used to his gayness and 'prettiness', and I don't have a problem with him being that way. He's been into guys for as long as I can remember.

But I swear to god, that boy makes other guys gay. It's his fault.

Take a sweet, straight as a yard stick guy for example, sit him down, throw a picture of Ryan Evans in his face and the guy's orientation will surely be converted to flimsy in a split second or two.

"Ryan! Could you please hurry up?" I called up the stairs to my twin brother, my eyes never leaving the screen of my sidekick as I texted my best girlfriend Sarah on it. I was currently sitting on the bottom step of the long staircase (seriously it's like, six miles up the stairs- or so that's how it seems, and it twists and turns a million times. Picture something right out of The Haunted Mansion or something) and waiting for Ryan to get his ass downstairs.

Yeah, cos I'm that pathetic. So pathetic, that I don't even bother to get my own lazy ass off his staircase and chose a chair or something to sit in instead. But what's really the point of making myself comfortable? We're leaving soon anyway. (I hope.)

"I'm gonna be late!" I shouted.

"One minute Shar!" he screamed back down to me. I rolled my eyes to myself and then quickly read Sarah's text. (Is it weird that I'm twenty four and am still always obsessivly texting practically everyone on my contacts list like an addicted seventeen year old?)

He's just trying to do the world a favor by looking completely hot, Shar. Let him take as long as he wants, because in the long run, it will all be worth it. ;D

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that my best friend since middle school is pathetically-erm, hoplessly in love with my gay twin brother? I don't know what or why it is- but she actually seems to find his over use of pink and occasionally purple eyeshadow appealing. Then again, so do a lot of people. But they're usually people who are gay like Ryan. Sarah? She's perfectly straight. Only goes after gay guys however, which is why she's never had a boyfriend in her life. Gay guys look at Sarah like I look at lesbians. (Okay so I think some gay guys are hot, and I'm fine with my own brother being into guys, but I do not like lesbians- not the creepy ones who check me out anyways. On the other hand, I could really care less if I see two other girls sucking face. But I could never see myself doing it.)

Yeah, so basically how I feel about lesbians are the way gay guys feel about Sarah (and all girls for that matter.) They don't care if girl's are making out with some other dude, as long as said girl leaves him as an individual alone. Well, that actually only goes if they're not after the same dude. But if a straight girl and a gay boy are after the same boy, you can almost guarentee a catfight to go down between the two of them.

Anyways, Sarah like I said, has never had a boyfriend- and she probably never will, unless she starts liking straight-oriented men. I keep trying to tell her that gay men find it creepy and disgusting that she tries to throw herself at them, but she never listens. And it just so happens that the number one flimsy guy that's on her gaydar (um...I mean, radar) is no one other then Ryan.

As for me? I'm straighter then a line...straighter then a straight line. Ryan's...not. And like I said, I have no problems with it. But still, I have to admit...it does get kinda weird sometimes when we're checking out the same guy and I make a comment that's supposed to be meant as a rhetorical question like "Isn't he hot?" and Ryan replies anyway "I know!"

Usually, Ryan gets the guy. And that sounds awkward to even think. (Remember like I said: he can turn someone gay. As if there's not enough gay people in this world already. Seriously if every male on this planet turns into animals falling in love with and all over each other, who will be left for me? I'd go crazy if that happened!) There are occasions when I do get him though. But it kinda sucks that I sometimes feel the need to fight over men with my brother.

I'm just going to pretend like you didn't say that. Kay?

I pushed send.

Ryan (finally) sauntered on casually down the steps. I nearly leapt with joy, but then discovered that he was carrying two hats in each of his hands, and his face was twisted into a thoughtful frown.

"White or blue Shar?" he asked me.

"Blue. It matches your shoes." I told him, impatiently twirling a lock of my dirty blond/brown hair that I was about to get dyed to absolute bleach blonde around my finger. (If I made it to my damned appointment in time, that is.)

"But the white one matches my shirt."

"Then why'd you ask me?"

"You asked me which pair of heels you should have worn." -he looked down at my black three inch stilletos- "And it looks like you didn't listen to me when I said the pink ones. But since I tried to help you anyway, you've gotta help me."

I rolled my eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time since I'd been here visiting in the last three days.

You know how I keep saying I'm fine with the way my twin is? Yeah, well, our parents kind of weren't. Even though I'd always known he didn't like girls, that didn't exactly mean mommy and daddy dearest did. Ryan never told them until he was eighteen years of age- and legally allowed to live on his own. He figured that if he spilled the news before we were eighteen, they'd throw him out of the house and he'd be forced to live illegally on his own. So he didn't tell them until our eighteenth birthday, in which case, they'd piled all his birthday presents into my mother's hummer truck and she and my dad had driven them down to the dump, and that's when Ryan was kicked out.

I can't even tell you why the heck (and frankly, I'm still trying to figure it out) my parents never saw how Ryan really was before he even told them. Me, being...well, me, figured it out on my own long before my dimwitted parents even knew. Of course, their real babies were their jobs and their cars- not really Ryan and me. They were hardly ever home, so they didn't really pay attention to us or things they should know about us (like our orientations) but they had always spoiled us; mistakingly thinking that if they gave us whatever we wanted it would:

a. Shut us up.

or

B. Be proof that they loved us.

Was I a happy child? Sort of. The presents were nice, but it also would have been nice had I spent at least one freaking christmas with my parents rather then whatever nanny they had hired for us.

But enough about my childhood happiness. Where are my parents now? Well, I pretty much lost contact with them after I graduated- sometimes I felt like I didn't even know them, since they were never home. Sometimes they were complete strangers to me, so you can be that I sure as hell wasn't that close to either of them. I had always been close to Ryan- we stuck together as kids. Like pb and j. So when they kicked him out, I ran away too. It was all a big mess, and I don't know where they are today. Knowing them, (but barely), they're probably off on a cruise out in the Carribbean or something.

"Then wear white if you want. Just hurry. In the mean time, I'll be waiting in your car." I said. I retreated from the room, my heels clicking agasint the hardwood floor with each step I took on the way, only stopping to grab the car keys on my way out the door as I waited for Sarah's reply.

Once inside Ryan's car, I checked the time. Three fifteen. My very important hair appointment started at three thirty. I honestly do not know why Ryan feels the need to get all dressed and spruced up to simply drive me to my appointment. I told him I was perfectly capable of driving myself, but he feared that I would either get his precious silver Lexus totalled or get lost since I haven't been to New Mexico since I graduated East High when I was eighteen.

You see, I just recently graduated from the International Academy of Design & Technology (that's in Florida.) Well, if you call one year ago recently that is. Yeah, most people would probably congratulate me or whatever. Because now I can go out and be a fashion designer if I wanted, and I want to, but the question I even ask myself is- why haven't I?

I really have no answer to that question. I figured that after I graduated college, I would move to Manhattan and persue my dream carreer as a world famous fashion designer. But after I got my college degree, I haven't done anything with my life. And it's been a whole freaking year.

What am I doing back here in Albuquerque?

Visiting my brother. He went to some local county college that I don't even remember the name of, and then dropped out after only a year. He's been calling me and complaining that he's lonely and missed me, his 'dear sister', and after refusing to return to stupid New Mexico for the last three years, I finally agreed. So how did he afford his gigantic mansion being a college drop out?

I helped him pay for it. Yeah, me. I sent money to him while I was still a college student in Florida. Don't ask how, but I had my own ways of making money. Sure, I had a parttime job or something as a student, but it wasn't really enough.

So I had other ways. (And don't freak out on me...I'm no bank robber/criminal/hitwoman type hitman person type thing-a-majig or whatever. But that's all I deny.)

Anyway, I've been back to home 'sweet' home for just three days, and I'm already bored and not really amused. When I woke up yesterday morning, I realized that my hair was also pretty boring, and that I needed to do something about it pronto. Maybe if I have awesome hair I'll make Albuquerque more exciting ;D.

"So you went with blue I see." I commented with a smirk as Ryan climbed into the driver's seat. He smirked and rolled his pale blue eyes.

"Yup. Shut up Shar." he said as he put the car in drive.

"So, Mr. fashion god, might I ask, what will you be doing while I'm getting my hair done for probably like, an hour and a half?"

Ryan shrugged. "Just meeting a couple of people downtown."

"For what?"

"Business."

Yeah, gay butt sex is what he's really implying here. And I am not about to get into full swinged (is that even a word?) detail about my twin brother's sex life. Which I have to add, I don't really know about anyway and I don't want to. So I'll just leave it at that.

I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before climbing out of the car when we got there. I felt my phone buzz, signaling I had another new text- probably from Sarah, but I ignored it and threw it into my purse as I approached the lady at the front desk/counter.

I swear, never in my life have I seen anyone who works with hair have bad or normal hair themselves. They always have some wacky yet attractive and fun 'do, which is layered and highlighted in different shades of black, brown, blonde, or red.

This time was different.

The woman who looked about my age had black shiny, silky hair that was in a basic messy up-do, but still looked good. She had a few bangs that fell simply around her oval-shaped face- framing them nicely. Being me once again, I notice these things often on both genders. It's just me.

The woman working the desk with the simple but good hair had an over-cheerful smile plastered to her face that really actually said "I fucking hate my job" as she chewed loudly on a piece of gum. She wore a black plastic apron, over a black t-shirt, black slacks, and black pointed-heel boots, with a nametage that read 'Gabriella'.

"Hello. I have an appointment at three thirty." I greeted the latina woman.

"It's three forty." she told me as if I didn't already know that, with a smirk that made me want to punch her. The way she kept smacking her gum so loudly was annoying and also made me want to slap her.

But I held myself back.

"I know. But it doesn't look so busy right now..." I said as I looked around the small barber shop wich was nearly empty. I saw a couple employees just applying hair gel to their own impossible 'dos, just waiting for something to happen. It looked as if they hadn't had a customer around here in weeks. I turned back to Gabriella.

"I'm willing to pay extra." I said, fishing out my wallet from my purse. I thrusted my credit card out to her and waited for her to take it. Of course, once she caught sight of the manacing glare I was shooting right at her, it seemed to kick some sense into her and she realized that I was actually not at all willing. So the smirk left her face and was replaced by probably what was supposed to be a sincere smile, but looked more like a frightened, nervous one.

"No need. Im sure we can schedule you in for the same price." she said fast as she took my credit card. "Can I have your name please?"

"Sharpay Evans." I told her. She swiped my card through a slot, pushed a few numbers on the register and then handed it back to me.

"Okay, we have you scheduled for three thirty. It says that you want to get it layered and bleached, is that right?" she asked- peeking up at me from behind her computer screen. I smiled at her. A fake smile.

"Yes." I answered simply even though I probably could have come up with some long, smart alec answer. "That's right."

"Any worker in particular you would like to do that for you?" she asked me. I just blinked at her. A second ago it seemed like she was trying to turn me away, and now here she was asking me if I had any special request or preference for someone I'd like to do my hair. Dang. You shoot a girl one death glare and she's honoring your every command...

The problem is though, I don't know anyone who works at this salon. So I have no special preference. But I am picky- I want someone who makes me look like a shampoo commercial model (as I've been told I look like before.)

"Whoever's best." I told Gabriella. She seemed to think about it for a minute.

"Okay, there is one guy and a lot of girls are always happy with his results."

"So he's good?"

"Yeah he's good. and not just at doing people's hair either." Gabriella smirked. I wasn't stupid. I knew exactly what she meant, but that was just gross. Like I cared about this random stranger's sex life anymore then I do my brother's. So I just looked at her funny. The smirk quickly left her face when she realized that I was not at all amused.

"Um...anyway, I don't think he's busy right now. Let me go check." she said and made a quick break for a door labled "Employees Only."

I just rolled my eyes again and pulled out my sidekick, leaning against the counter as I texted Sarah.

You wouldn't believe the idiots that work at this salon.

But my attention was directed elswhere from my sidekick at the return of stupid salon girl's voice.

"You're in luck! He's available." she practically sang. I looked at the guy behind her and my jaw dropped.

Daayuuum. So she said he was a great hairstylist, and -ahem- a few other things that will not be mentioned again, but she didn't tell me how completely hot the guy was.

I picked up my jaw so I didn't look completely stupid and smiled at him. He smiled back, and I almost lost it. I mean really, he was one of the best looking guys I'd seen in a long time. His eyes were so striking blue, I just couldn't bring myself to look away- not like I wanted to or anything, because he was keeping eye contact with me too. So that was a good thing. But I swear- that man defines man candy alright. And I think it's my new favorite kind.

Yum.

He whispered something to Gabriella. She nodded and returned to her place behind the counter. He smiled at me again and motioned for him to follow him. Inwardly, I was praising god for giving me a total hunk to do my hair as he lead me to one of the chairs.

"Gabriella already told me how you wanted me to do this." he said- referring to my mane of blondish brown waves as he slung one of those plastic aprons over my shoulders.

"So what's your name?" he asked me.

"Oh you mean Gabriella didn't tell you that too?" I smirked. He chuckled.

"Yeah, but I figure it's a good starting point for a conversation." he said as he began to comb out my already tangle/knot-free tresses. I smiled at him through the mirror in front of me.

"Sharpay. And you?"

"I'm Troy."

Is it weird to be flirting with your hairdresser? Because all the while he was doing me hair, we were talking and joking that entire time; and it sure seemed like we were flirting. I mean, I just met him, but for some reason I didn't feel shy or anything,and the conversation had just flown easily. But I also can't help but remember what Gabriella said about him being good at other things besides hair...and now I can't help but wonder if they're seeing each other.

Whatever. I shouldn't medle. After all, I really don't know either of them...

But still, wheter they're dating or not, and whether it's weird that it seems like we're flirting or not, I am definitley sure that I want to see this guy again.

A/N: Yay chapter uno is complete-o :D. Please tell me what you think, and oh yeah also, this entire story will be told in Sharpay's point of view (unless stated otherwise- but for the most part it will be in her POV anyways) Also, Sarah- Sharpay's best friend will be mentioned a lot in this story. And yes, although I'm sure you already figured this out, but the girl that works as the register lady at the salon IS the Gabriella that we all know.

Anyway...about Troy being a hairdresser dude, I've seen lots of non gay hairdressers and nail people that are men. So yeah. lol. Also, about the T and M thing...should I keep this at T or change it to M? And like I said, if it IS M, it won't be too detailed or anything, I'm not comfortable writing full on detailed stuff like that lol. :P But please give me your opinions. Reviews are mucho appreciated!

:D

-Serena/HeSaidSheSaidx