Disclaimer; Don't own High School Musical. Do you? If yes, maybe you'd be willing to share?

"If at first you do succeed try not to look too surprised."
Anonymous

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It was hard to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. This wasn't a familiar feeling. Even before a show I was always calm and collected. The only other time I had ever felt light-headed was when I had tried to play the flute in sixth grade. However, this time the nausea didn't come from frustration and multiple long breaths into a shiny instrument, but rather anger at a freaky math girl and lunkhead basketball person who were currently staring adoringly into each others eyes (which alone could have made me want to throw up).

I scrunched up my face, bottom lip pouting with my hand at my hips, trying to figure out what I had done wrong in my audition. Troy and Gabriella couldn't possibly be the next big stars at East High, could they? And my performance was flawless, wasn't it? Yes it was. I hadn't done a thing wrong. Perfect vocals? Check. I hadn't taken professional singing lessons since I was six for nothing. Excellent choreography? Check. Ryan and I had worked on it every night. Exquisite costumes? Check. Hell, the two thieves that had stolen one of the most important things in my life had showed up in a freaking basketball track suit and lab coat.

Anything else I was missing? Hm.

Absence of jazz squares? Check.

"Shar? You'll get wrinkles if your face stays like that any longer."

How could he do that? Be so ...nonchalant about everything. We had just lost the leading roles for the winter musical to people who probably haven't done any acting other than pretending to not be the one who took the last cookie from the cookie jar when they were kids. I'd never admit it to anyone, but Kelsi's compositions were some of the best that I've heard in an East High musical for a long, long time.

It just wasn't fair. I was furious at Ms. Darbus. Troy. Gabriella. Kelsi. Ryan. Myself. No one I listed had done anything wrong but I was just ...mad.

Or maybe not mad.

Jealous?

Jealous?

Of Troy and Gabriella?

Of course not.

Well maybe.

Maybe a little bit.

But they were just so good.

Good for people who probably haven't done any acting other than pretending to not be the one who took the last cookie from the cookie jar when they were kids. Good for people who probably haven't done any singing except when in the shower, belting out their favourite ballads to their shower head, firmly implanted to the wall in front of them. Good for people who probably improvised their audition.

How was that possible? To just come from out of nowhere and be perfect? (That question was another secret that I'd be willing to take to the grave. I wouldn't even tell Ryan I thought they were good, let alone think they'd done a breathtaking performance) Their callback managed to fill the whole auditorium. They had the whole school reigned in, finally showing just a spark of interest in the theatre. They had done what I had been trying to accomplish for the last five years at this school.

So what?

Have all those dance lessons, singing lessons, acting lessons been for nothing? I mean, eleven years of those and I still can't beat people that have had two weeks of practise? If I don't have the theatre, I don't have anything. Troy and Gabriella have basketball and academics to fall upon if the singing thing goes through.

"Shar? You okay? Being an understudy isn't so bad. At least we have a part. Sort of. --"

"At least we have a part? What's wrong with you, Ryan? We can't think like that. Remember what daddy says? Always strive for the best. If you aren't going to do it right, don't bother doing it at all." I hissed.

He gave me a disappointed look. I scowled at him.

"Come on. Troy and Gabriella are heading over here, lets congratulate them." He murmured. Then he shrugged, went to go shake Gabriella's hand and offered Troy a smile.

I simply stared at them for a moment, not sure how to handle the situation with Ryan just yet. Did he -- give up and accept it? Choose them over us? Over me?

My thoughts were interrupted when a member of Troy's sports posse called his name and motioned for Troy to join him and the rest of the lunkheads. He jogged over to the curly-haired basketball player but not before turning his head and asking for Gabriella's permission. Then Gabriella stumbled over my way, looking petrified now that she was alone with me (Ryan had gone off to mingle with Kelsi) but she smiled anyways and had the nerve to say, "Sorry I missed your audition. But I bet it was good!"

Her voice faltered at the end.

"That's a shame. It would have really helped if you had seen professionals at work. You won't be able to survive the long, gruelling weeks of practise that you will have to endure with that raw talent of yours. I'm not going to let you ruin a school production. We have a reputation you know." I gave her an intimidating glare before taking a step towards her, "I'm going to make sure you wished that you'd never stepped foot in the auditorium in the first place."

When you're drowning, everything you've ever worked for starts to slip away and panic sets in -- causing you to act without thinking. It doesn't even register that you're trying to drag someone else down with you in an attempt to resurface.

Author's Note; Yeah... I'm back. Kinda? No, I haven't been busy. Just lacking inspiration. I know it's short, but it's been a while and I'm kind of getting used to writing again. And now I'm about to type two words you've probably read about 2, 768 times on fanfiction ...

Review please?