Room 402, Wednesday, Late Afternoon
Huh. A.J. was gone, which meant that the room felt a little bit... empty. Rather empty, in fact. Very, very empty.
It was amazing how much space one person could take up, whether they had any stuff taking it up or not. Troy looked at the empty side of the room, and reached over to turn his music up a little to fill the space.
It didn't help. It was a little weird; he'd never really had an experience like this. Being an only child, he'd always had a room to himself, except for when the basketball team had gone off for tournaments. (And the golf team. And the track team.) And that didn't even really properly count. So, really, this was the first time he'd ever had to share a room. It had been easy, for a while, for the obvious reasons, and then maybe a little harder lately, for other, also obvious, reasons, but it had never really gotten to be a big deal. And now it was all his, and he...
Well. He missed having someone around. Music didn't fill the space at all. Troy thought about dropping down to The Boards to see Geoffrey, but even that didn't seem right. He needed something knew, he rather thought; some kind of change. He'd graduated high school, now, and he still wasn't really sure what he wanted to do next.
Fandom was an option, he thought; he could stay around for a while. Work with -- and learn from -- Geoffrey. Maybe New York; he could do some auditions. Maybe get some off-Broadway work, build up his resume.
He wasn't going home, that was for sure. Home was basketball and high school and West High. He still loved basketball, sure. He cherished most of his memories from West High. But his time there seemed to be part of another person's life; he'd seen too much since then -- not least dinosaurs, and New York from the last century, and plagues that killed -- to go back to that life. He thought his parents might understand. His mother would, at least, while his father would try to understand, fail, and be vaguely supportive anyway, just like he had when Troy really started to get into theatre and move away from the basketball. He didn't understand it then, and he wouldn't understand it now, but he'd never needed to understand Troy to want him to be happy.
His computer pinged.
From: evansr@nyc.the-evans.com
To: troy.bolton@fandomhigh.net
Subject: Pack Your Bags!
Attachment(s): "Flight Information.eml" "Hotel Reservation.eml" "NYU Theatre Program.pdf"
Hi, Troy!
Uh, so, it's kinda short notice, but you need to get to New York, like, yesterday. Or tomorrow, which is when your flight leaves DC. I pulled a few strings, well, Mom and Dad did, and we've each got a spot in the NYU Summer Theatre Program. Which you totally, totally need to take, because if you don't come, I don't get mine.
I'm not above a little blackmail.
Call me when you get this!
R
---
Mr. Ryan Evans
evansr@nyc.the-evans.com
"Some are born great. Some have greatness thrust upon them. And then you have me: I was born fabulous."
Troy stared at the email, and glanced at the attachments. The theatre program certainly sounded like a good opportunity, but it was... kinda short notice. Still, he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial.
"Please tell me you're in! Also, hi."
Troy couldn't help but laugh at Ryan, when that was the first thing he heard. "Hi to you, too," he answered. "And I haven't even had time to think about it yet! I mean, I can't just move to New York in a day, can I?"
"You'd be surprised," Ryan replied. "Chad and I already signed a lease on a three-bedroom loft in the Village. You're welcome to join us there if you want. My parents are covering the rent on the place as long as I'm in school -- and Chad and I are both going to NYU in the fall, too -- so you'd only have to chip in on utilities. Phone and internet and stuff, I mean, water and power are covered, too." There was a pause; Troy was still trying to process everything he was hearing, and so still hadn't spoken when Ryan continued. "Uh, the bedrooms are pretty sound-proof, too, so..."
"Oh, God, Ryan, I so did not need to hear that."
"Sorry."
"... So basically you're telling me that I get to live in a high class New York apartment with my best friend since pre-school and his boyfriend, who is also my friend, while taking part in a really good summer theatre program, and probably getting to see lots of Broadway shows in the process, and all I have to pay is phone, internet, and cable."
There was another brief pause.
"Troy, there isn't even a doorman on the building. We're slumming it."
"Ryan?"
"Yeah, Troy?"
"Don't ever change."
Troy couldn't help but laugh when Ryan responded with the sung phrase, "No matter what!"
The conversation continued for a little while longer; Troy held the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he began packing. Clothes from his closet went right into his duffle; his computer went into his laptop bag, his peripherals into the box he'd saved just for that purpose. "So you'll be there to meet me at the airport?" Troy asked. "You and Chad? It'll be good to see you both."
"Yeah," Ryan told him. "Our flight gets in, like, an hour before yours, so we're just going to hang out in the airport until you show up, and we can all head to the apartment together. Anyway, I've gotta run," he continued. "Chad and I are heading out in a bit for dinner and a movie. One last date here before we leave, y'know? He's taking me to see Steel Guy." His voice showed just how much he appreciated the thought of the movie. "But at least it has Robert Downey, Jr. And we're going to the ballet on Sunday night, after we're settled into the flat, so at least I'll get to pay him back a bit there."
Troy couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Chad going to see ballet. "Have fun," he said. "And don't tell me the details, okay?" He grinned. "I'll see you in New York tomorrow morning."
Time to pack. He had a room in DC for the night, and a plane to catch in the morning. Early in the morning.
Ryan would pay for that part, Troy thought. Or maybe he'd let it slide. Ryan was the one who'd gotten him the spot in the summer program, after all.
[Post is open, door is open, Troy is frantically throwing things into bags and boxes. He'll be back for the second summer term, though, so this isn't goodbye for good!]
It was amazing how much space one person could take up, whether they had any stuff taking it up or not. Troy looked at the empty side of the room, and reached over to turn his music up a little to fill the space.
It didn't help. It was a little weird; he'd never really had an experience like this. Being an only child, he'd always had a room to himself, except for when the basketball team had gone off for tournaments. (And the golf team. And the track team.) And that didn't even really properly count. So, really, this was the first time he'd ever had to share a room. It had been easy, for a while, for the obvious reasons, and then maybe a little harder lately, for other, also obvious, reasons, but it had never really gotten to be a big deal. And now it was all his, and he...
Well. He missed having someone around. Music didn't fill the space at all. Troy thought about dropping down to The Boards to see Geoffrey, but even that didn't seem right. He needed something knew, he rather thought; some kind of change. He'd graduated high school, now, and he still wasn't really sure what he wanted to do next.
Fandom was an option, he thought; he could stay around for a while. Work with -- and learn from -- Geoffrey. Maybe New York; he could do some auditions. Maybe get some off-Broadway work, build up his resume.
He wasn't going home, that was for sure. Home was basketball and high school and West High. He still loved basketball, sure. He cherished most of his memories from West High. But his time there seemed to be part of another person's life; he'd seen too much since then -- not least dinosaurs, and New York from the last century, and plagues that killed -- to go back to that life. He thought his parents might understand. His mother would, at least, while his father would try to understand, fail, and be vaguely supportive anyway, just like he had when Troy really started to get into theatre and move away from the basketball. He didn't understand it then, and he wouldn't understand it now, but he'd never needed to understand Troy to want him to be happy.
His computer pinged.
From: evansr@nyc.the-evans.com
To: troy.bolton@fandomhigh.net
Subject: Pack Your Bags!
Attachment(s): "Flight Information.eml" "Hotel Reservation.eml" "NYU Theatre Program.pdf"
Hi, Troy!
Uh, so, it's kinda short notice, but you need to get to New York, like, yesterday. Or tomorrow, which is when your flight leaves DC. I pulled a few strings, well, Mom and Dad did, and we've each got a spot in the NYU Summer Theatre Program. Which you totally, totally need to take, because if you don't come, I don't get mine.
I'm not above a little blackmail.
Call me when you get this!
R
---
Mr. Ryan Evans
evansr@nyc.the-evans.com
"Some are born great. Some have greatness thrust upon them. And then you have me: I was born fabulous."
Troy stared at the email, and glanced at the attachments. The theatre program certainly sounded like a good opportunity, but it was... kinda short notice. Still, he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial.
"Please tell me you're in! Also, hi."
Troy couldn't help but laugh at Ryan, when that was the first thing he heard. "Hi to you, too," he answered. "And I haven't even had time to think about it yet! I mean, I can't just move to New York in a day, can I?"
"You'd be surprised," Ryan replied. "Chad and I already signed a lease on a three-bedroom loft in the Village. You're welcome to join us there if you want. My parents are covering the rent on the place as long as I'm in school -- and Chad and I are both going to NYU in the fall, too -- so you'd only have to chip in on utilities. Phone and internet and stuff, I mean, water and power are covered, too." There was a pause; Troy was still trying to process everything he was hearing, and so still hadn't spoken when Ryan continued. "Uh, the bedrooms are pretty sound-proof, too, so..."
"Oh, God, Ryan, I so did not need to hear that."
"Sorry."
"... So basically you're telling me that I get to live in a high class New York apartment with my best friend since pre-school and his boyfriend, who is also my friend, while taking part in a really good summer theatre program, and probably getting to see lots of Broadway shows in the process, and all I have to pay is phone, internet, and cable."
There was another brief pause.
"Troy, there isn't even a doorman on the building. We're slumming it."
"Ryan?"
"Yeah, Troy?"
"Don't ever change."
Troy couldn't help but laugh when Ryan responded with the sung phrase, "No matter what!"
The conversation continued for a little while longer; Troy held the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he began packing. Clothes from his closet went right into his duffle; his computer went into his laptop bag, his peripherals into the box he'd saved just for that purpose. "So you'll be there to meet me at the airport?" Troy asked. "You and Chad? It'll be good to see you both."
"Yeah," Ryan told him. "Our flight gets in, like, an hour before yours, so we're just going to hang out in the airport until you show up, and we can all head to the apartment together. Anyway, I've gotta run," he continued. "Chad and I are heading out in a bit for dinner and a movie. One last date here before we leave, y'know? He's taking me to see Steel Guy." His voice showed just how much he appreciated the thought of the movie. "But at least it has Robert Downey, Jr. And we're going to the ballet on Sunday night, after we're settled into the flat, so at least I'll get to pay him back a bit there."
Troy couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Chad going to see ballet. "Have fun," he said. "And don't tell me the details, okay?" He grinned. "I'll see you in New York tomorrow morning."
Time to pack. He had a room in DC for the night, and a plane to catch in the morning. Early in the morning.
Ryan would pay for that part, Troy thought. Or maybe he'd let it slide. Ryan was the one who'd gotten him the spot in the summer program, after all.
[Post is open, door is open, Troy is frantically throwing things into bags and boxes. He'll be back for the second summer term, though, so this isn't goodbye for good!]