Apartment of Slumming, Upper East Side, NYC. Monday Evening.

Jan 26, 2009 22:20

Rehearsal was going well. Very well, in fact; Troy was starting to get a little bit nervous, unsure if this meant that the show was going to go horribly when it actually opened.

"Hey, Ryan?" he asked. "You up to running lines with me later? Or do you and Chad have plans?"

The other boy looked up from his dinner and shrugged. "Nah, I should be fine for that," he said. "This for the same show?"

Troy nodded. "I'd have mentioned if I'd gotten another part," he said, grinning. "Trust me, you'd have heard. Thanks, though. I'll come find you after I shower and eat? I swear, if Tamiia doesn't slow down the rehearsals a bit, we're going to be completely burnt out long before the show opens."

Ryan just waved his fork, returning to the script he was reading, and Troy left the room, heading to his bedroom.

He spotted his phone as he stepped through the door, sitting where he'd left it that morning on his dresser, and he remembered the phone call he'd been meaning to make. He dialed quickly into the alumni network, and then called a Los Angeles phone number.

[Call is to one, but open for other phone calls if anyone else wants to tag in!]

troy bolton, ryan evans, nyc, phone call, apartment of slumming

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