It's been a good two years since I've posted a story on fanfiction in the HSM fandom. I'm not as addicted to the series anymore, but I still enjoy playing with the characters. I am a student, and therefore school and studies are my primary focus, so I hope you will bear with my erratic updates. I will try to write whenever possible.

This is a rated story, co-written between an author and myself but I will be writing.

If you're not of age or are uncomfortable with swearing and scenes of intimacy, you've been warned. Otherwise, enjoy!

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"Get the hell out of my face!"

"Don't you dare walk away from me!"

"Or what? What are you going to do? I'm sick and tired of you trying to control everything I do! I'm sick of arguing every single night with you!"

"We won't have to argue if you stopped bringing shit up all the time!"

"Me? Oh and going to the 'office' every night isn't something that needs to be brought up? I'm not stupid Greg; don't think I don't know what you're doing!"

"Don't get me started—"

Gabriella Montez slammed the door to her room, cutting off whatever her father was about to shoot back at his wife of 22 years. She turned off her room lights and her desk lamp, and flopped herself onto her bed. Her hands reached to her bed side table, and grabbed the one thing that kept her sane; her i-Touch. Plugging both earphones in, she quickly tapped into her playlist. Classical music flooded her ears and drowned out the arguing that was still going on, reducing them to a buzz that was barely audible above her music.

She sighed. She could only hope that the next day come sooner, so that she would be at school for the majority of her day rather than being at home hearing the same argument over again.

Most of all, she couldn't wait for her music class.

"Troy come for dinner,"

"One second,"

"Now please,"

"I'm coming,"

"It's getting cold, and I have to go soon,"

Troy Bolton put his pen down and sighed. He rubbed his temple with two fingers as he slowly stood up from his study. The music sheets and lesson plan he had spent most of the day drafting were lying before him, half way done. He bit back the annoyance that was starting to bubble as he made his way to the kitchen, where his wife of three years stood before him.

Sharpay Evans (she refused to take his last name) placed the bowl of spaghetti on his end of the table before brushing her hands off on a nearby towel. Troy sat down as she sat opposite to him,

"Where are you going?" Troy asked, Sharpay looked up, her brown eyes only flickering with a spark of small irritation for a split second,

"I have a rehearsal, I told you last week," she answered. Troy nodded silently. Sharpay was an actress on Broadway, which meant she had shows upon, shows lined up for her schedule. Just as well, seeing as Troy was a music professor at the Julliard's School of Arts, as well as a director for the New York City Orchestra which played at some of Sharpay's shows.

Ironic how it was their profession that drew them together…yet it was the very same profession that now stood between them and the long dinner table as they ate in silence.

The next morning Gabriella woke up to silence in her home. She sighed; it was the only moment when both her parents were home that the house was silent. Looking at her clock, she realized that it was 7 in the morning, and she didn't need to be in class until nine. Slowly, she dragged her body out of her bed, clad only in a thin tank top and short shorts as she made her way to the bathroom.

She took a quick look at herself in the mirror, her brown hair hanging curly down to her petite waist, slightly tangled from her night's sleep. Her tank top stuck to her body only slightly, lightly outlining her curves. Her legs were long and toned, and her eyes were slightly red from waking up so early. Stripping herself, Gabriella turned the shower on, and tested the water before going in, sighing as the warm stream of water slowly woke her body.

She closed her eyes as she thought back to the time when she had got her acceptance to Julliard.

Against her parent's knowledge, she had secretly gone to audition at the prestigious art school. All her life Gabriella had had a strong interest in music, be it vocal or instrumental. She was in her elementary school choir when she was younger, and had been a part of her school band ever since she remembered starting music in high school. Music was the one thing that kept her together and away from her family drama. When she was in music, all she felt, and heard and thought of was the music. When she played, she played within a group, drowning herself in the sounds of different parts of the music coming together; a single piece created by twenty, thirty, fifty different individuals playing individual parts, and those individual parts contributing and pieced together into one single, magnificent work of art.

In music was where she could lose herself, and forget the world around her.

Of course when she had told her parents she chose to attend Julliard's, their reaction had been a flat out no.

"What kind of job are you going to get with a degree from an arts school?"

"What about Stanford University? Didn't you get an acceptance there? Don't waste your talents at an arts school Gabby,"

Gabriella had never fought for something so hard in her entire life. She argued her parents, defending the reputation of Julliard's. It wasn't until Gabriella promised her parents she would also be taking additional advanced mathematics and science courses that they had reluctantly allowed her in the school.

"Only if your priority is in those topics Gabby, I don't want you getting distracted with some music or art program,"

Gabriella had been quick to accept all their demands, fully anticipating her first day in the school. She had worked hard for the past four years in school to build up her tuition, and with some government aid she was determined to pay the tuition off herself, refusing to let her parents hold the fact that they had paid for her against her in the future.

Gabriella snapped out of her day dreaming when she realized she had been in the shower for quite some time already. Quickly turning it off, she toweled herself dry, and quickly picked out an outfit. 10 minutes later, Gabriella had her hair brushed, and walked downstairs clad in a simple t-shirt under a stripped cardigan, dark skinny jeans and a pair of brown boots.

"Morning," she greeted her parents quietly. Greg and Isabella Montez looked up, and offered her a smile. Greg was sitting at the table, with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast reading the newspaper, while Isabella was at the far end of the kitchen cleaning the dishes. If Gabriella hadn't heard them argue almost every night, this would have pulled off a perfect family.

"Ready for school honey?" Isabella asked, Gabriella nodded, accepting her orange juice and toast,

"Do you need a ride?" Greg asked, Gabriella shook her head,

"I can take the bus, I have time," she replied. Greg nodded, his eyes turning from her, to the flute case she held in her hands, "You have music?"

"Last class of the day…" Gabriella said quietly, shuffling so that her instrument was behind her.

"What else do you have?"

"Biology, Chemistry and Statistics today," Gabriella answered quickly. Greg nodded his head, commenting no further at her classes. Gabriella quickly ate her toast and drowned her drink before saying a quick good bye, dashing out the door.

On the bus, Gabriella sighed as she slumped onto the seat.

"That was too close," she said to herself. She carefully held her instrument to her throughout the bus ride, watching as New York City passed her by in a blur, the people on the streets going about their business without minding others.

That would be exactly what she would do today, going about her own business.

Troy had fallen asleep by the time Sharpay had returned from her late night rehearsals. The next morning, Sharpay was fast asleep when Troy woke up at 6. He quietly grabbed his clothes and headed to the washroom, locking the door. He stripped his grey t-shirt and shorts, and stepped into the shower stall as the streams of hot water pour continuously onto his back. He sighed, rubbing his dirty blond hair under the shower.

It wasn't that he didn't love his wife…he did, if he didn't he wouldn't have asked her to marry him three years ago. It's just that…the love wasn't as strong as it had been before. Their first year had been amazing. He was 25, she was the same age. He had just graduated with honors from university, and she in the midst of auditioning for small parts around the area.

Prior to landing the job at the university, Troy had been a part of the orchestra that played at Broadway shows from time to time. His love for music had lasted him throughout high school and well into his post secondary education. By the time he graduated, Troy had a degree in music and a degree for teaching as a backup. The first day he played with the orchestra, Sharpay had landed a role as the younger version of the main female character. He had been back stage when he had bumped into her.

It was like the movies, as if everything had slowed down and he only saw her. She mumbled a quick apology, and instead of replying with the same thing, Troy had stumbled and blurted out his name, and asking for hers. She had smiled at him, given her name, and walked off. Troy remembered circulating that name in his mind for the rest of the night, so much so he almost missed his entrances (and a few other ones) throughout the night.

After then, Troy loitered around the stage, always bumping into her, until one night, after her last encore, he waited for her as she stepped out of the dressing room. Like the first time he had met her, he stumbled through his speech,

"Do you want to go for dinner?" except that didn't come out of his mouth, it came from hers. Troy nodded embarrassingly, and they had a long talk and dinner at a nearby café. Two weeks after, they started going out. Half a year later, Troy had proposed, and she had accepted. They were both young, and in love.

Now, at the age of 28, Troy realized that there was no such thing as a movie like romance. There was no such thing as the world slowing down, only seeing the object of your affection in front of you. Sharpay's career had taken off right after, and Troy's own career in the orchestra and in the teaching profession soared at the same rate. They saw each other less and less, and became more engrossed in their own work. Going home now felt more like going back to sleep, as opposed to returning to his place of comfort.

Troy quickly got out of the shower, and dressed himself in a loose black dress shirt, and a pair of dark jeans. Unlike most professors, he chose to dress comfortable, and not in something that made him look forty. As he left his house, Sharpay was still asleep, and he would not be home before she had to attend to another show later on that night.

Gabriella went through the rest of the day the best she could. Her first class had been Biology, which was relatively interesting. She sat in a lecture hall of over a hundred students, where her professor began the introduction in a dreary voice, as though he had done this one too many times, and was reading off a script. Gabriella didn't take any notes, deciding the first introduction course wasn't particularly useful. Aside from getting a syllabus of the class, and the books she was required to get, they were dismissed early.

Her other three classes were the same; Professors who had been teaching too many students for too long, and teaching the same material as though they were reading from a book. By the end of her statistics class, she had nothing to look forward to except to her music class which was unfortunately two hours away. Deciding that she would spend the two hours to do some reading, Gabriella went to find the school's food court before heading to a quiet corner…that is if she could find the food court.

A good five minutes later she was as good as lost, and the people around her were in such a hurry, she didn't know if she should stop one of them and ask for directions.

"Hey, need some help?" said a stranger's voice. She jumped a bit, turning around to see a taller and older man standing in front of her. He had shaggy dirty blond hair, and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. He wore a dark dress shirt and dark jeans and had a lopsided smile on his face.

"He looks…hot." Was the first thought that entered her mind. She blushed quickly,

"S-Sorry, I'm a bit lost," she stuttered. The man in front of her laughed,

"I can tell, maybe I can help you?" he asked in a friendly manner. Gabriella smiled in relief,

"Please, if you don't mind," she said, "I'm actually just trying to find a food court…or any place with food to be honest," the man chuckled,

"If you walk up in that direction, " he pointed to his right, "you'll end up at the music building," the man noticed she brightened up when he mentioned that, "There's a small café there you can get something to eat, and it's usually pretty empty around this time so you'll probably find an area to study as well, although between you and me…I'd avoid getting the chicken broth there," Gabriella cocked her head,

"Trust me you don't want to know," he chuckled. Gabriella giggled,

"Thanks," she said, "I'm Gabriella Montez, by the way," she said. She felt weird, introducing herself to a pure stranger…but he was helpful, so that would mean he wasn't some weirdo right?

"Troy Bolton, and glad to help Miss Montez," Troy said. Gabriella blushed prettily, before saying thank you again and heading at the direction he had pointed her to. Troy noted that she had an instrument with her,

"I wonder if she's in the program…" he mused to himself. He started walking back to where he was headed, towards one of the teacher's lounge, but looked behind to spare a look at the young girl who had disappeared into the music building. He chuckled to himself, he could remember her lost face, and the way her cheeks tinted pink when he offered his help. It was a fairly windy day, and her brown curls had stuck to her cheeks a few times during her blush.

Not a bad start to the day, he had to admit. Now he was only looking forward to his class of the day…music.

The rest of the two hours passed by relatively fast for Gabriella. By the time her music class rolled around, she had gotten used to the outline for the rest of the year for her other classes, and had marked down important dates on her cell phone and planner. Now, with baited breath, she began her way towards one of the many studios littered around the campus. She was glad for a certain Troy Bolton for pointing her towards the music department building, because that was exactly where her music class was to take place.

She climbed up the stairs, that took her to a more hollow corridor, with fewer rooms, rooms she suspected to be music studios where the school's many music group practiced. Gabriella walked down the hall for a good minute, before reaching the final studio, which was hidden behind double doors. She looked down, STU. 518 was what her schedule said, she looked at the sign on the door, STU 518. She was at the right place. With a deep breath, she pulled the doors opened.

As if someone had turned the entire world on mute, and suddenly turned the volume up, Gabriella's ears were bombarded with the sounds of various instruments warming up and tuning. Trumpets, drums, clarinets, saxophones, tuba, sounds that ranged from the highest register of a flute, to the lowest register of the tuba cluttered and clashed against one another. It was an environment full of noise, and Gabriella couldn't be more excited.

She quickly found an empty seat in a section where she saw most of the flutes sitting; the second row, in the middle right in front of the conductor's stand. As she settled down, a girl in front of her turned around. She had a heart shaped face, and soft auburn hair that fell in front of a pair of glasses,

"Hi, are you new?" she asked. Gabriella smiled nervously,

"Yea, it's my first year here," she said sheepishly. The girl in front smiled back,

"I can tell, not a lot of students choose to sit right in front of the conductor, let alone right in the middle," she said. Gabriella gulped,

"Is it…is it that bad?" She asked. The girl giggled,

"Not in the way you think it is…it's just that…well being in the middle means you're in the direct sight line of the professor…and well, let's just say he's had to stop certain female students from staring at him, and not because they wanted to keep timing." The girl looked up and smiled again, "Hi, I'm Kelsi Nielson,"

"Gabriella Montez," Gabriella smiled, "Are you…a second year?"

"I am, it's my second year under the professor, but it's my first year at Julliard's. I was in his other group before I auditioned and came here,"

"So…the professor isn't bad then?" Gabriella asked nervously. Kelsi laughed,

"Oh, he's not bad at all. He definitely knows his stuff, and he's an amazing teacher. But…well you'll see why most of the girls here choose to sit at the side, away from his direct sight line but not far enough to not see him properly," Kelsi chuckled, and Gabriella couldn't help but realize that Kelsi was right. There were few students around her, near the middle, but all the side seats in her row had already been taken up.

For the next few minutes, Gabriella assembled her instrument together, and chatted with Kelsi while she warmed up. Playing the notes completely relaxed her body and mind, and by the time most of the group had arrived and finished warming up, Gabriella was good friends with Kelsi, and she was now more excited to get started in playing, than anything else.

And start it did, because the moment the double doors swung opened, the entire room fell silent as someone entered the room. Gabriella couldn't see properly (she wasn't particularly tall…and a tuba was blocking her view) but she safely assumed it was the professor as half the group suddenly sat up straighter.

"We all great a few inches, excellent," said the voice in front of her. She blinked, it sounded oddly familiar. Gabriella took a few secretive glances around her, and she saw the girls around her were watching in rapt attention, with blushes on their cheeks.

"Welcome to new people, and to old students, I don't know why you chose to came back but good luck to you all," the professor said. There were scattered chuckles from the room, one of them belonging to Kelsi.

"My name is Troy Bolton, I will be your slave driver this year. You can call me Troy, or Bolton, or Professor Troy, but never call me sir, because I am not that old."

Gabriella's head shot up at the name. Kelsi was right; her seat gave her direct sight line to the professor standing only a few feet in front of her. The moment she looked up, her eyes were caught in the same intensely blue eyes she had seen only a couple hours earlier that day.

And was it her imagination, or did he see her too? And gave her a smile of recognition?

Again I will repeat I am a student and therefore updates will be erratic, please bear with me. Gabriella is 20 here, and Troy is 28 (yes I made them a good 8 years apart) to even be remotely close to the normal age required of their profession (Heck, a professor is at LEAST in their low-mid thirties). Reviews make me happy :)