"The Other Side Of You" [4/4], High School Musical, Ryan/Chad
Title: The Other Side Of You [Part Four]
Fandom: High School Musical
Pairing: Ryan/Chad [with bits of Sharpay/Troy and Troy/Gabriella]
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 23, 038 (over the next couple of entries!)
Genre: Slash
Summary: Ryan realises that he’s got to put everything back together.
Author’s Notes: Oh, man, there are no excuses whatsoever for how long it’s taken me to get this finished and posted. None at all. But there is a happy ending and 23,038 words before that, so I just hope people care enough to want to read the end. Anyway, once again, I’m really sorry.
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three]
Kelsi doesn’t trust him. Ryan can’t exactly blame her, since he genuinely isn’t to be trusted; but there’s something kind of depressing about her constantly guarded expression around him. She hasn’t confronted him - Ryan has the horrible suspicion that she’s afraid to - but it’s unspoken between them, and it’s been there ever since Chad walked into their dance class looking on the point of a nervous breakdown a week ago. They’re both pretending that nothing’s wrong, but Ryan knows that Kelsi’s figured out what he’s done, and is not impressed. Ryan isn’t really all that impressed with himself either, when you get right down to it - but tells himself that it’s ok because when he agreed to help Sharpay get Troy Bolton, he had no idea that she was planning on doing this. He didn’t have a clue that she was planning on dragging Troy into her own personal world and turning him into an asshole; but it’s too late now, he can’t stop what’s happening.
At the end of an unbelievably awkward homeroom, Ryan has an even more uncomfortable conversation with Kelsi and she drifts off to her next class with a firmly judgemental look in her eyes. Ryan knows that Chad is waiting to speak to him, and that thought makes him feel considerably better. This relationship with Chad is just about the only thing Ryan is proud of at the moment. But, just as he’s about to go over, Zeke comes running into the classroom, grabs Chad’s arm, and practically drags him out the door. Ryan does not have a good feeling about this, and when Sharpay comes running in a moment or two later, he knows things have imploded.
“Come on,” she says breathlessly, “It’s fabulous! Hurry, Ry, you’ve got to see this!”
Her expression of complete and utter glee is distinctly worrying. Ryan hasn’t seen her this happy since Lana Fraser twisted her ankle, leaving Sharpay with the title role in their sixth-grade school production. And since Sharpay is already starring in this year’s musical, Ryan presumes that something even better has happened, and that’s never a good sign.
Troy and Gabriella are breaking up loudly and publicly. It’s painful to watch, sort of like watching fluffy kittens turning on each other or something, and Ryan feels sick because he knows that he helped this to happen. In the crowd of students, half of them look disturbingly smug (has Sharpay started infecting everyone or something?) and the other half are grimacing. Kelsi is clinging to Chad’s arm, face twisted with horror, but when she catches sight of Ryan she sends him an are-you-happy-now kind of look. Ryan quickly tries to look penitent, and actually, he does feel nauseous, seeing Gabriella on the verge of tears. She doesn’t deserve this.
Chad finally takes his eyes off his ex-best friend, and, unfortunately, looks right at Ryan. Ryan realises that he must look guilty as hell (probably because he actually is) and the look of disappointment and misery on Chad’s face turns to anger brutally fast. Oh, hell, Ryan thinks. He thought he’d been getting away with all this a little too well. It hasn’t been easy, trying to date Chad while simultaneously helping Sharpay make Troy into her little lapdog. Now, Ryan suspects, he won’t have that problem any more. It doesn’t make him feel any better.
“That’s it, I’m sick of you! We’re through, Troy. Go to hell.” Gabriella’s expression is a horrible mixture of misery and anger, and she storms off through the crowd. Kelsi, Taylor and Martha hurry after her, and Ryan, realising what is inevitably going to happen next, quickly goes to find somewhere quiet to hide. He’s not in the mood for an excruciatingly public break-up, but there’s no way Chad will let him get away with this.
It takes time for Chad to track him down, while Ryan plays with the cuffs of his shirt and tries to fight down the butterflies in his stomach. He’s almost tempted to start the exercises he and Sharpay use pre-performance to calm their nerves; but standing alone in a corridor snapping “mah!” at himself won’t help. Instead, he breathes slowly, and decides that he has to face this confrontation with dignity, because he’s got nothing else going for him.
Chad’s face is twisted with anger but there’s desperation underneath that, and Ryan feels guilty for reducing his boyfriend to this.
“I can give you a detailed explanation if you like,” he offers, standing up a little straighter, and forcing himself to look Chad in the eye. He doesn’t want to, God, he just wants to run away, but he didn’t take all those acting lessons for nothing and with any luck he can get through this.
“I just want you to answer one question,” Chad half-snarls, voice shaking. “Did you help her?”
No. I would never have done that to you. I had no idea that she was planning to break up Troy and Gabriella, and if I had known I wouldn’t have let her. Ryan takes a deep breath.
“Yes,” he says.
Chad visibly shudders, the fingers of his right hand momentarily forming a fist. Ryan braces himself; if Chad wants to punch him, he won’t blame him. But the blow doesn’t come.
“You knew that Sharpay was planning on dragging Troy away from his friends and getting him to break up with Gabriella, and you helped her?” Chad sounds incredulous, the words spat out between his teeth, his eyes narrowed.
Every instinct in Ryan’s body is screaming deny it, deny it, deny it, but he knows it’s too late now.
“…Yes.”
“Fuck.” Chad closes his eyes for a moment, as though the truth is too much for him to handle. Then they snap open, and he asks: “So, what, you were using me? Keeping me out of the way?”
The idea that Chad would think that, could think that, after all this time, hurts Ryan more deeply than anything else.
“No! How could you even think that?” he exclaims, taking half a step forward. Chad steps back swiftly, as though terrified Ryan will try to touch him.
“You’ve been lying to me all along. I can’t believe a word you say.” Chad’s voice is shaking now; he’s really losing it. Ryan bites his lip, unable to reply. He wants to walk away, stop Chad from saying any more, because it’s clear that there’s no way on earth they can continue dating, and sooner or later it’s going to get really nasty.
“I don’t understand-” Chad begins. He sounds utterly lost, rubbing a hand across his face before continuing: “I mean, I know you don’t give a damn about Troy or Gabriella, but I really thought you cared enough about me not to screw me over like this. He was my best friend.”
Ryan uses the only excuse he has: “She’s my sister.”
It’s lame, and he knows it, and Chad’s expression changes to one of disgust.
“Yeah, and she’s got you so whipped that you can’t even stand up for yourself any more. It’s sick.”
Ryan needs this to stop. He needs to walk away before he starts crying or maybe even starts pleading pathetically for Chad to forgive him; the Evans family must retain their pride, and they never beg. He needs to apologise and leave.
“Chad, I’m-”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” Chad cuts him off, mouth twisted with anger, hands curled into fists at his sides. “Just don’t. You’re an asshole, Evans, and if you come near me again I’ll hurt you, I swear to God.”
Ryan believes it. Chad walks away down the corridor, and Ryan doesn’t wait to see if he looks back or not. He flees, heading down the backstairs to the music rooms. Kelsi is at the piano, playing a melody that seems to consist of low notes played too hard, mouth pressed together in a thin line.
She looks up when Ryan walks in, and her glare intensifies. Ryan isn’t sure he’s ever seen Kelsi angry before - at least, not this angry - but he can’t have her doing this today.
“Please,” he says, “Please, tomorrow, shout at me, ask me if I’m happy now, call me whatever the hell you like, but please, don’t do this now.”
His voice is thick and he thinks he might cry any second; when he swallows his throat hurts and he takes his blue trilby off and throws it into the corner in a mixture of frustration and misery.
“Did-” Kelsi begins, tone almost neutral.
“Yeah, he did,” Ryan replies, and it cracks in the middle.
Kelsi closes the piano lid quietly, and gets to her feet. She does look sorry, Ryan registers in a detached kind of way. When she walks out, she squeezes his shoulder in a way that’s almost kind. Left alone, Ryan sits down on the piano bench and presses his head into his hands.
~
When he eventually makes it home, Shar is painting her nails again on the couch, metallic blue, hair pulled into a loose knot at the back of her head. She looks unbelievably pleased with herself, and she probably has a pretty good reason. After all, all the pieces of her plan are falling into perfect place.
“Thanks, Ry,” she says brightly, with a dazzling smile, “I really couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You have to stop,” Ryan tells her. “What we’ve done is wrong and we have to undo the damage before it’s too late.”
Sharpay rolls her eyes, placing the bottle of nail polish on the coffee table.
“Come on Ry,” she says, “Troy is so close to being mine, Gabriella’s been punished for stealing my place in the winter musical, and the spring musical is going to be fabulous. Don’t freak out on me now.”
“You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” Ryan asks. He is exhausted, he’s got a migraine and Sharpay’s determined innocent expression isn’t helping. “I mean, didn’t you think about the impact this might have on the Wildcats?”
“The people who held a party to celebrate when we didn’t get into the musical?” Sharpay raises a carefully plucked eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, I give a damn about their feelings. Jesus, Ryan, what is with you?”
“Maybe I’m sick of destroying other people’s lives for my own benefit,” Ryan snaps, and watches as Sharpay’s face creases with confusion. He hasn’t shouted at her in years; it was always easier not to. “You want to know what’s with me, Shar? Chad’s just dumped me, and it’s all your fault.”
“He was never good enough,” Sharpay says dismissively, waving her hand. “He’s collateral, Ryan.”
Ryan feels sick. Sharpay has never been good at empathising, but this is cold even for her.
“Is that all I am to you?” he finds himself yelling desperately, “Fucking collateral? It doesn’t matter what happens to me, as long as you get what you want? Is that it?”
Sharpay’s eyes are filling up with tears.
“You’re so self-centred, Ryan!” she snarls, “Ok, so maybe I didn’t think about how your precious little boyfriend might feel about my plan, but neither did you! So before you go accusing me of screwing your life up, maybe you should think that you messed up your own relationship, and you’re too scared to admit it!”
“I’m self-centred?” Ryan begins incredulously, but Sharpay cuts him off.
“I don’t have to stay here and listen to this from you,” she announces, and sweeps out, slamming the door behind her. Ryan sinks into the couch, hands trembling. A few minutes later, his mom comes in, carrying a tray with a teapot and two mugs, and a bowl of sugar. The smell of Earl Grey is unmistakable; it’s what his mom always makes when things go wrong. She made it for him when his first serious boyfriend broke up with him, and when Sharpay stole the limelight in their fifth-grade dance recital, and a whole load of other shitty times.
“I’m sorry Chad broke up with you, Ducky,” she says peaceably, pouring him a cup, adding sugar, and stirring it.
“You heard that?” Ryan asks sheepishly, accepting the cup and breathing in the flowery scent.
“I think most people in the neighbourhood heard you,” his mom tells him with a little smile, patting his hand. Ryan takes a sip of tea to hide his embarrassment. He likes being the centre of attention, but only when he’s acting, being someone else. Otherwise, he feels like he exists merely to be Sharpay’s background music.
“Shar just doesn’t understand,” he says eventually, sighing it out because he can’t change it.
“Kitten doesn’t know her own strength,” his mom explains gently. “She gets it from your father. I always hoped you’d be able to counteract her.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Ryan says helplessly into the steam rising from his cup.
“Yes you do, sweetie,” his mom replies, reaching over to take his hand. “You’ve got to go to all the people your sister has hurt and fix things. Sooner or later, she’ll realise what she’s done, and she’ll help you. For now, though, it’s up to you to sort this out.”
Ryan has forgotten that when she’s not on a new fad diet or doing pilates for days on end in their garden, his mom is actually pretty sensible and capable of dispensing useful advice.
“Thank you,” he tells her, putting his cup down on the coffee table and giving her a hug.
~
It is all very well for Ryan to assume that it’s all going to be ok with maybe a few bribes and a few more kind-of-sincere apologies, but when he walks into school the next morning (had to get a ride from his mom, Sharpay took the car unreasonably early and Ryan hasn’t quite managed to pass his driving test yet), he realises that it’s going to take more than that. Half the students send him venomous glares, the other half are acting like he doesn’t exist (it’s entirely possible that when he’s nowhere near Sharpay, he doesn’t), and the Wildcats look nauseated as he passes them on the way to his seat.
Ryan would give anything to make Chad look at him. As it is, the boy just sits slumped in his seat, studying the desk in front of him, studiously ignoring everyone sitting around him. Ryan drops into his usual seat behind Sharpay, along from Chad, and carefully does not look around either. Sharpay makes little huffing noises every minute or so, ‘cause she’s so damn good at being angry in an obvious fashion. Ryan is far better at the simmering anger that stays beneath the surface and lasts twice as long; he’s definitely had enough practise at it, and he’s not going to be the first to crack. All their lives, he’s been the first to give, but he won’t, not this time.
“Troy!” Sharpay calls brightly, at a pitch that splits straight through Ryan’s head and explodes into a potential migraine. He angles his hat further over his eyes and wonders how difficult it would be for Troy to actually miss his sister, given that she’s in a outfit that involves more sequins than is probably good for anyone’s health. Their classmates are going to end up blinded - though it’s possibly another nefarious plan of hers; at this point in time Ryan wouldn’t put anything past his sister.
He glances sideways at Troy sitting on Sharpay’s desk and talking rapidly, hands gesturing wildly, and decides that it was really unnecessary of him to suggest cutting off Troy’s ‘problematic’ hair. And probably cruel, and if he hadn’t then maybe he and Chad would have managed… but maybe not.
Ryan is actually torn out of his self-pitying thoughts when Gabriella walks in, head down, books clutched to her stomach. She looks so dejected and unhappy that it actually takes away his self-centred and miserable wallowing, just looking at her. And then the guilt washes over him in thickening waves and he has to glance away because he helped do this to her. Gabriella Montez, who is sweet and inoffensive and likes everyone and has only ever wanted to fit in with a whole new school of scary clique-ish students.
He doesn’t feel like he’s kicked a puppy so much as crucified it and then disembowelled it while laughing manically and singing something by Andrew Lloyd Goddamn Webber.
Ryan is going to burn in hell for this. Or, at least, have to put up with Sharpay’s smugness for the rest of the semester, which is pretty much the same thing. Over the other side of the classroom, he catches Kelsi’s eye and she gives a minute shrug, a you made your bed, lie down in it and tuck yourself in for the long haul expression on her face, though it’s not nearly as damning as Ryan thinks he deserves.
As Ms Darbus walks in and begins a bright and cheerful talk on exactly why cellphones were the worst invention of the twentieth century and how they are all probably going to get ear cancer or at the very least grow up entirely without manners, Ryan lets his head fall onto his desk and refuses to raise it until the bell goes. Chad’s out of the classroom before the sound’s faded away, Sharpay pushes past Ryan’s desk in a deliberately obnoxious way, trying to get a rise out of him - which he won’t give her because he is not playing this game any more - and before he knows it everyone else has hurried away too, leaving him sitting alone.
It looks like his plans to fix all this are going to need some radical re-working.
~
Before his personal universe so very helpfully imploded around him, he and Kelsi had planned a dance lesson this afternoon. However, since she’s one of the people on the tragically long list of People Who Will Not Talk To Ryan Anymore, he heads off to the school’s dance studio alone, connecting his ipod to the speakers and trying to find something to listen to that won’t be overly maudlin or make him upset and/or angry. Usually, in circumstances like this, he resorts to Judy Garland and The Man That Got Away, at least until Shar steps in and tells him to stop it. Even now, with his sister refusing to even look in his direction (and even if he was willing to look at her, he wouldn’t, because her sequins are actually retina-damagingly sparkly today), he gets the feeling she’ll know he cracked and listened to Judy in a morose fashion, and then she’ll make his life even more hellish. Ryan spends a moment trying to work out how his life actually could get worse, and then decides that his dear twin could always resort to physical maiming or something.
Settling on a reasonably neutral salsa rhythm, Ryan starts stretching, working kinks out of his spine put there by being hunched in a mildly penitent fashion all day. He can’t work out his emotions through flexing his muscles though, and he wonders whether guilt, misery, or frustration will take him out first.
The door pushes open. “You didn’t wait for me,” Kelsi says accusingly.
Ryan turns so fast his neck makes an unattractive clicking sound. He is suddenly, ridiculously pleased to see her.
“I thought… you weren’t coming,” he replies lamely. “You’re angry with me.”
“Not angry, just disappointed,” Kelsi corrects him, smiling a little. “And I know it’s not your fault; you’re just very… biddable when it comes to Sharpay.”
“I am not biddable!” Ryan protests, feeling a pout descending before he can stop it.
“The words ‘wrapped around’ and ‘little finger’ spring to mind,” Kelsi tells him, and there’s a teasing glint bright in her eyes. “It’s ok. I’ve just accepted it as an unfortunate character flaw.”
Ryan wants to defend himself but suspects he’s forfeited his right to that ‘cause he’s Sharpay’s lapdog and all.
“So we’re ok?” he asks, and is impressed with the way his voice doesn’t waver or crack in any way.
Kelsi pulls him into a hug, and she’s tiny and much shorter than him but it’s still nice anyway. Ryan closes his eyes and rests his cheek against her royal blue hat, and decides that it’s nice that there’s one person other than his parents who still likes him.
“Right,” Kelsi says, pulling back a little, “You said something about the Foxtrot?”
“I did,” Ryan agrees, disentangling himself from her and going to put some more appropriate music on. Then he returns to Kelsi, taking her hands in his and giving her something that finally starts to feel like a real smile. For a while, they concentrate on the dance, and Ryan is quietly proud to see how good Kelsi is getting, picking up the steps quickly and hardly stumbling at all. Unfortunately, once the uncertainty over the dance leaves her, it gives them more time to talk.
“So, how are you going to win Chad back?” Kelsi asks brightly and unexpectedly, causing Ryan to nearly stamp on her foot as he slips a little.
“The guy made it pretty clear that if I went near him there would be pain,” Ryan replies carefully, tone too sharp. “Lots of pain.”
“You and Sharpay don’t give up easily,” Kelsi replies, pausing to get her breath back as the song changes. “Or at all. So don’t tell me you don’t have a plan.”
“I don’t,” Ryan admits with more honesty than he meant to let out. The music starts again, but he makes no effort to move. “I hurt him, Kelsi. I mean, I hurt everyone, but I really hurt him and I don’t think I can…”
He trails off, horribly aware he’ll probably completely break if he keeps going. Kelsi seems to understand, because she pulls him close again, resting her head against his shoulder.
“But you do have a plan of some kind,” she murmurs. “You two are always scheming.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he responds, attempting to hitch a smile onto his quivering lips.
Kelsi laughs, pats him on the shoulder, and then steps back. “Ok, I think I’m finally getting the Foxtrot, let’s go through it again.”
When they’ve finished dancing around the studio and are sitting on the floor drinking bottled water in a merciful, blissful silence, Ryan turns to Kelsi.
“I’m going to fix all of this,” he tells her. “I’m going to put everything Sharpay broke back together, I promise.”
“I believe you,” Kelsi replies simply. “Between you and Sharpay, I think you got the moral compass.”
“It’s a bitch,” Ryan agrees. He lies back against the cool floor, trying to work out where he’s even going to start, when inspiration flashes up in his mind. “I have to go shopping,” he announces. “I have to go shopping right now.”
Kelsi gives him a bemused look. “Dare I ask why?”
Ryan smiles brightly. “Phase one,” he tells her.
“Are you going to buy an outfit so fabulous that Chad will take one look at you and decide that he doesn’t care what you did to his friends ‘cause you’re pretty anyway?” Kelsi enquires, smirking at him.
“I’m not Sharpay,” he replies, wounded. “And I told you, I can’t devote my energy to winning Chad back.”
“Why not?” Kelsi frowns.
“I’ve been a total bastard to him,” Ryan points out. “I don’t even think I can begin to make up for that, and…” He sighs, swallowing hard, and then mumbles, “I don’t deserve him back.”
Kelsi sighs, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. “So what are you shopping for, then?”
“Wanna come?” Ryan asks. “I’ll buy you something nice, like a small country or whatever.”
“There are stores that sell those in Albuquerque?” Kelsi smirks.
“…Or a new hat,” Ryan continues, ignoring her. “Or some sheet music.”
“I don’t have the stamina for shopping with you,” Kelsi informs him lightly. Which is probably true; to call Ryan ‘fussy’ would be an understatement. “And actually, I’ve got to go catch Taylor before she leaves her Scholastic Decathlon preparation class thing.”
Ryan frowns at her, but Kelsi just pats him on the head before getting up and walking over to collect her bag. “Hang in there,” she calls back to him before closing the door behind her.
For a long, quiet moment Ryan considers giving in and listening to every single ballad he can find on one very long, very excessively emotional playlist. But he has a plan now, so he gets up and goes to change back into proper clothes again.
He has a mission. For the first time in days, the tight knot of pain in his chest starts to ease, just a little.
~
Ryan walks into school the next morning feeling a little brighter. It only took eleven different stores to find what he was looking for and the fabulously wrapped box in his bag is making him feel confident enough to walk into class with his head held high, a navy blue fedora that goes amazingly well with his turquoise shirt tilted over one eye. He sits down at his desk, carefully not looking at Sharpay, who is a vision in unsettling amounts of gold lamé, and not glancing at Chad because every time he does it makes his stomach twist and clench.
Gabriella walks in looking like a burst balloon, dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that does nothing at all for her, expression one of abject misery as she holds her bag against her side and heads for her desk at the back of the room. Ryan watches her, and decides that he’s definitely made the right decision as to which aspect of this whole mess he ought to fix first. He just needs to find his moment.
They struggle through four periods of frustrating hell, where no one concentrates on the classes themselves and Chad remains an angry, hunched figure who won’t talk to anyone, not even Zeke and Jason when they attempt to find out what’s wrong, and Gabriella shrinks into herself, not answering questions. Taylor looks worried, clinging to her friend’s hand and talking to her whenever the teacher’s back is turned. When the bell finally goes for lunch, Ryan is on his feet and over by Gabriella’s desk in an instant.
“Gabriella,” he says, trying to remember the words he spent so many hours figuring out in his room and discovering that this is nothing at all like being in a play, “Can I talk to you?”
She looks up at him, eyes dark bruises in her face. “Sure,” she says, a little hesitantly.
“What the hell-” one of the Wildcats begins, but Kelsi steps in quickly.
“Shall we all go get some food?” she asks, and somehow manages to usher Gabriella’s protectors from the room; possibly because she’s so small and sweet-looking that no one would even imagine disagreeing with her in case she started crying or something. The worst part is that Kelsi totally knows this and is not above abusing it.
“I’ll wait outside,” Taylor tells them, following the others out and closing the door behind her.
Ryan pulls a chair over so he can sit opposite Gabriella, and takes a deep breath.
“I owe you an apology,” he begins. “For whatever it’s worth.”
It spills out in disjointed sentences and it’s not particularly eloquent and probably not even clear in places, but he tells Gabriella everything he did and everything he knew and did nothing about, and tells her how sorry he is.
“Why are you telling me this?” Gabriella asks quietly, looking so tired and unlike herself that it makes Ryan feel ill.
“Because you deserve to know,” Ryan replies. “And I want to start making amends.”
“If Troy let himself be manipulated by Sharpay then I don’t see how we could ever get back together,” Gabriella mumbles, looking down at her hands.
“I’m not talking about you and Troy,” Ryan replies. “I’ve learned to my cost that I’m dreadful at matchmaking. I want to take a step towards making you feel better.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out the large, silver box (so large he had no space for any of his schoolbooks today; he can’t say he’s missed them), putting it on the desk in front of Gabriella. She looks at it with a little apprehension, like it could explode at any second. “Please at least open it,” he practically begs. “It took hours to track just what I was looking for down.”
Gabriella carefully peels the tape back - it figures she’d be the sort to preserve the paper; Sharpay always tears straight in - and eventually reveals the glossy cardboard box inside. She removes the lid and looks at the contents.
“You’re going to make this better with shoes?” she asks, sounding a little incredulous.
“Not just any old shoes,” Ryan replies.
Gabriella frowns a little, but takes one of them out. Mary Jane style, made of glossy black leather with little silver stars cut into them.
“They are beautiful,” she admits a little reluctantly, taking the other out and sitting them side-by-side on the desk. “I can’t accept them.”
“Look,” Ryan begins, “Troy has treated you horribly. My sister and I have treated you horribly, and you’ve lost your boyfriend and the world is looking so bad that it’s making you feel bad about yourself. You need to kick-start your self-esteem so you can get back to being happy.” He coughs. “And it took eleven stores to find just the right pair of shoes for you, so I’m not taking them back now.”
Gabriella smiles slightly and then nods. She leans down and slips off her flats before carefully buckling the new shoes on, turning her feet from side to side, admiring the way they look in spite of herself. She makes to get up, but Ryan stops her.
“Not done yet,” he replies, reaching into his bag for a silver scarf Sharpay hasn’t worn in at least three years - getting into her closet to steal it was a pretty impressive achievement, considering that they’re attempting to stay on opposite sides of the house at the moment (mom and daddy are starting to get a little pissed, dinner is getting really problematic) - and he figures that even if Shar recognises her accessory, she’s not going to start a bitch fight in the hall to reclaim it. At least, he hopes she won’t.
Ryan undoes Gabriella’s ponytail and then ties the scarf into her hair, fluffing it appropriately. He looks down at her thoughtfully.
“We need mascara,” he decides, and turns back to his bag. He gets the feeling Gabriella is starting to enjoy herself, because she giggles.
“I’m not letting you near me with-”
“I’ve been doing Sharpay’s make-up since we were six,” Ryan responds practically, dropping a handful of cosmetics onto the desk. “Tilt your head back.”
Gabriella obediently lets him dust some make-up over her depressed, exhausted face.
“There,” he says, standing back to admire his handiwork, “You look fabulous. And now you’re going to walk into that lunchroom with your head held high and everyone is going to be so proud of how well you’re handling this.”
Gabriella stands up, smiling at him. “You didn’t have to do this,” she tells him. “Thank you so much, Ryan.”
He shrugs, unwilling to accept the gratitude. “Yeah, I kind of did.”
Gabriella takes a few steps closer to the door before she realises he’s not following. He’s not going in there, not with Chad in close proximity ignoring him so pointedly and the other Wildcats glaring at him because as far as they’re concerned he and Sharpay are pretty much interchangeable. Not to mention Sharpay holding court with her brand new consort, and Ryan can think of a million things he would rather be doing. Burning all his hats, for example, or having laryngitis, or levering out his eyes with an eyeliner pencil. That sort of thing, you know?
“Come on,” Gabriella tells him, holding out a hand. “If I have to go in there, then so do you.”
Ryan sighs, but walks over and takes her hand anyway. They leave the classroom together to find Taylor leaning against the wall.
“Nice shoes,” she tells Gabriella, and then smiles at Ryan. “You coming for lunch with us?”
“…Yes?” Ryan replies hesitantly, as Gabriella turns to him with a pleading expression. “Apparently.”
Taylor takes Gabriella’s other hand and the three of them head for the cafeteria. When they walk in, interested looks come from all directions. Sharpay is glaring, mouth pressed in a thin, thin line, in an I-don’t-care-if-you’re-my-brother-I’ll-still-have-a-hit-put-out-on-you kind of way, and Troy merely looks puzzled. Over on the jocks’ table, Chad looks like he’s set to explode all over Zeke and whatever baked goods he’s brought in in Tupperware containers today. That would be sad, Ryan decides; the cookies definitely don’t deserve to get hurt. They’re innocents in this.
“I have to get out of here,” he murmurs, but for some frustrating reason Gabriella won’t let go of his hand.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Chad demands, storming up to them. He’s talking in a sort of low, furious whisper, and glaring at Gabriella like she’s the one in the wrong. “Do you not know what Evans did to you?”
Ah, so they’re back to calling each other by surname. Ryan fucking hates break-ups and the ugly little things that start to crop up afterwards.
“He’s apologised,” Gabriella replies steadily. “And he’s done more to make me feel better in the last ten minutes than any of you have in the last two days, so I’m ok with Ryan being here.”
“I can’t believe that you’d even talk to him,” Chad begins hotly.
“Look,” Taylor says, “We’re right in the middle of the cafeteria right now, so maybe we could take this somewhere a little less public? Boys?”
“He destroys everything he touches,” Chad warns.
“He is standing right here,” Ryan finally snaps.
“I’m not sitting with him,” Chad practically snarls at Gabriella, entirely ignoring Ryan as though he just doesn’t exist.
It’s so nice to know that they’re handling this with maturity.
“Fine.” Taylor’s calm, clear voice slices through the argument. “Gabi and I will sit with Ryan somewhere else. You need to go back to Zeke and eat whatever he’s baked today and calm down before this implodes and we all get detention.”
Through all of this, Chad hasn’t even looked at him. Not once. It hurts more than Ryan wants to admit, even to himself. He knew that Chad was pissed, but…
“What was that about?” Gabriella asks, as they sit down at an empty table and Chad stalks back to his. “Chad looks really angry…”
Taylor shrugs, opening her bag and getting out her lunch. “He and Ryan broke up. It’s getting pretty messy.”
“You… know?” Ryan asks, feeling about as stunned as Gabriella looks. Taylor shrugs, and Ryan feels horror and surprise cross his face. “You know.”
“Chad told me,” Taylor replies. “Well, about the you-being-together part. It was hilariously awkward, actually, one of those times when you really wish you had a camera. And I kind of figured out the break-up bit for myself.”
“It’s not that messy,” Ryan tells her. “He worked out that I helped Sharpay with her latest Student Body Domination plan, told me I was an asshole, and hasn’t spoken to me since. Pretty cut and dried, really.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabriella murmurs, patting Ryan tentatively on the shoulder, going from shocked to sympathetic in a minute. She really is inhumanly nice, Ryan reflects, to a degree that’s nearly worrying. “How long had you two been going out?”
“About a month,” Ryan replies. “And it was great, and I ruined it. Can we change the subject now?”
Taylor has a thoughtful expression on her face that Ryan doesn’t entirely like; it’s too similar to the one Kelsi had last night; he can’t help feeling that all the girls around him are Planning Something, and that can never end well.
“But you two used to…” Gabriella begins, looking at Taylor.
“It didn’t take,” Taylor replies, smirking. “Really didn’t take.” She gestures at Ryan. “As you can probably tell.”
“Wow,” Gabriella looks a little awkward. “I had no idea that you were even… let alone Chad.”
“Did the hats not give it away?” Ryan enquires, winking at her. “Or the large amount of pink I wear on a weekly basis? Or the fact I own three different colours of glitter mascara that I let you borrow for Twinkle Towne?”
“I just thought you were…” Gabriella gestures vaguely, “…Eccentric. I mean, I suspected, but I figured…”
“Oh dear.” Ryan shakes his head in mock-disappointment. “You can do things with numbers in your brain that most people can’t do with a calculator and a sheet with all the answers printed on it, but yet you can’t remember to put batteries in your gaydar.”
Gabriella starts giggling and Ryan sort of wants to laugh too, if only to ease what feels like cramp in his stomach, which settled there when Chad walked up to yell at them and doesn’t seem to want to go away and leave him the hell alone. He’s broken up with people before, but no one at school and no one he had to see every single day afterwards. He sighs, attempting to keep a cheerful expression on his face. Taylor must notice, because she reaches over to squeeze his arm in a supportive fashion.
“It’s going to be ok, Ryan,” she promises.
Ryan hitches a smile onto his mouth, but he doesn’t really believe her.
~
“I’m unnerved,” Kelsi offers, fingers pressing down on several piano keys to create a discordant accompaniment to her words.
Ryan concentrates hard on the script lying in his lap. As part of Sharpay’s You-Must-Not-Be-In-The-Musical-Ryan plan, she got him out of the way by pushing him into the local youth theatre’s production of Guys and Dolls, and in a couple of weeks he’s going to be Sky Masterson. Right now, full of frustration and emotional turmoil as he is, he can’t think of anything more he would rather not do, but a commitment is a commitment and he can’t quite resist either the spotlight or the awesome black velvet fedora the wardrobe department found for him.
Kelsi plays a few, slightly more harmonious notes and then says: “Still unnerved.”
“I’m sure I’ve done more disturbing things than this in your presence,” Ryan responds.
“You’re hiding out underneath my piano with your script,” Kelsi points out carefully. “I’m allowed to be a little freaked.”
“I want somewhere quiet,” Ryan explains, “With nice, soft, plinky background music. And most importantly, it has to be far away from all other people.”
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried that I’m apparently the only person you want to be around today,” Kelsi sighs, and a scratching sound implies that she’s making notations on the blank sheet music scattered across the piano lid.
“I socialised,” Ryan protests. “Gabriella and Taylor seem to have decided that they like hanging out with me; we had lunch for the third time this week. I just… like it here.”
Kelsi tries out a melody, a soft stream of notes, and a smile quirks Ryan’s lips. He turns his attention back to the script because, no matter what, if something’s worth doing then it’s worth doing absolutely damn brilliantly and with the potential for as many curtain calls as possible. Kelsi starts humming and playing the piano simultaneously, losing herself in her music once more, and Ryan tunes her out to soothing background noise while double-checking he knows the dialogue for the whole dulce de leche scene.
The door opens, and someone comes in. Ryan isn’t really listening, focused instead on Sky and Sarah, until a worryingly familiar voice says:
“Move over, Kelsi, I’m having totally heinous day. You know, in chemistry this morning, he-”
“I feel I should probably warn you that Ryan is sitting underneath the piano,” Kelsi interrupts calmly, not breaking off from her playing, “He hasn’t really explained, but I’m guessing it’s either because it’s pretty quiet here, or he’s planning on dismembering me at the earliest opportunity, but either way he’s here and you might need to re-think whatever you wanted to say.”
“Like I wanted to talk about Evans,” Chad snaps, sounding angrier than he did a moment ago, and Ryan stares fixedly but unseeingly at the printed words on the page, trying to tell himself that he’s not going to go mad any moment. “Jeez,” he adds in a slightly louder tone, “Are you, like, stalking me or something?”
“Yes,” Ryan mutters, closing his script with a slap of pages, “Because of course I knew that you were planning on coming to see Kelsi at this very minute and thought that it would be fun to get here before you.” He comes out from under the piano, automatically adjusting his lime green trilby to a more disdainful angle. “Or maybe I just happen to be in the same places as you because we go to the same school and we take several of the same classes. You know, just as a thought.”
His tone sounds poisonous and so sarcastic that the words sting his teeth, but Chad is actually looking at him for the first time in nearly a week and if Ryan has to keep hurting him just to keep that eye contact then that’s what he’ll do, because the one thing that he can’t handle from Chad is nothing. At this moment, he’ll take any amount of anger or hurt Chad wants to throw in his direction, just as long as he isn’t ignoring him.
“Right, sorry, I forgot,” Chad all but spits, “Us lower mortals are so much stupider and more disposable than you and your precious sister. Silly of me not to remember, really.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake-” Ryan begins hotly, but Kelsi stands up and glares at them both.
“Boys!”
They fall into a guilty silence, turning to look at the girl. Her cheeks are flushed underneath her lilac cloche hat, and her fingers are pressed so hard against the piano lid that they’ve gone white.
“Enough,” she tells them, quietening her tone though her eyes still spark. Scary girl, Kelsi; Ryan firmly believes that she could take on Sharpay when she’s in one of her I am queen of the whole universe and can therefore trample other people beneath my tasteful silver wedges because of this so don’t even think about getting in my way moods. Not quite, of course, because Kelsi always seems to crumple around Sharpay, but maybe one day… The thought almost amuses him enough to forget the situation he’s stuck in.
“You’ve broken up,” Kelsi continues, voice very sympathetic. “And it’s sad, and I get that you’re both angry as hell with each other and the situation, but you’re not helping anything by setting out to cause hurt.”
“But you’ve got to know what he-” Chad starts loudly.
“Ryan and I have sorted that out,” Kelsi cuts him off. “But if you don’t feel capable of doing that then one of you needs to leave this room because I’m trying to write a song that’s been in my head all day.”
A fresh layer of guilt lays over the old ones, and Ryan scoops up his script. “I’ll go,” he mumbles.
“I’ll run lines with you in tomorrow’s free period,” Kelsi offers, patting his arm as he walks past. Chad says nothing, becoming intently interested in his sneakers. Ryan bites down on his tongue so hard that it hurts.
Later that evening, when he’s lying on his bed attempting not to be morose and trying as hard as he can not to hear Shar wandering around next door thumping things in a way clearly designed to frustrate the hell out of him, his cellphone buzzes with a message. When he picks it up, it’s from Kelsi: he really misses you.
It doesn’t actually help, and it’s only the thought that he’d have to explain to his mom exactly why he needed a new phone that prevents him from throwing it across the room.
~
Ms Darbus is all I know that you’re doing your latest musical outside the school, Ryan, but I do so appreciate your creative input, which finds him sitting around in the theatre watching his sister and Troy being nauseating. Kelsi comes to join him after a while, leaning supportively against his shoulder.
“What have you done?” she asks, sounding amused. “Look at what you helped create.”
Troy and Sharpay are laughing about something, one of them fluffed a line and apparently it’s just about the most hilarious thing that’s ever happened, like ever. It’s sickening and a little traumatising. As far as Ryan can remember, Sharpay has never wanted this sort of thing. Not ever. She wants a sycophantic partner and someone who can sing and dance and act reasonably well - though, of course, not as well as her; that bit’s vital - and she wants to have fun, but Ryan never got even the vaguest of ideas that his sister ever wanted the whole drearily-vanilla-relationship thing she’s currently having with Troy.
“Maybe I should break them up,” he muses lightly. “Shar won’t speak to me ever again and I don’t think Gabriella would be in any way better off, but it would probably be for the good of mankind anyway.”
Kelsi watches them dance around on the stage for a long moment. “It would be,” she agrees. “And even if mankind weren’t grateful, I know I would be.”
Ryan taps his fingers against the leg of his mauve skinny jeans, watching Sharpay, and deciding that if they were still talking he’d have advised against today’s outfit.
“She misses me,” he decides.
“How can you tell?” Kelsi asks curiously.
“Her accessorising abilities are disintegrating,” Ryan explains. “Her pashmina clashes slightly with her shoes, and I wouldn’t have let her do that.”
Kelsi sighs. “I will never understand the relationship between you two. From the outside, it doesn’t look all that healthy.” She gives him a smile, as though trying to assure him that it’s not a personal attack. Ryan knows. He and Shar have never had the most beneficial of relationships, but he adores her nonetheless. And when she remembers to look away from her ill-gotten victory, she’ll remember that she adores him too.
“I used to have a nauseatingly sweet relationship with my boyfriend,” Ryan mumbles at last, carefully not looking at Kelsi. “It was awesome.”
“I know.” Kelsi squeezes his hand tightly.
Ryan sighs. “And I screwed it up myself ‘cause most of it was based on a lie and I thought I was being so smart ‘cause I had the best of both worlds and I’d kind of convinced myself that Chad wouldn’t care and I couldn’t abandon Shar, she’s Shar, she’d have only hurt me or stolen my favourite hats or something, and the Troy-and-Gabriella thing was kind of nauseating and besides, it’s what we’ve always done so I didn’t really see what was going to be so different about it this time and I hate this whole damn situation because I feel guilty all the time and Chad won’t look at me and it makes me angry ‘cause he won’t let me explain and maybe I don’t deserve the chance but if it were the other way around I would totally let him talk to me and even through all that I can’t look at him without wanting to kiss him and it… it really, really sucks.”
Kelsi is silent for a while, though she maintains her grip on Ryan’s hand. Finally, she turns to him with a sweet smile: “Better?”
Now he’s finally gotten it all off his chest, Ryan feels like he can begin breathing again.
“A little,” he murmurs, concentrating on the light glinting off Sharpay’s aqua-sequinned kitten heels because it’s distracting enough that he doesn’t need to think about anything else.
It becomes worryingly clear that he was meant to be actually watching the rehearsal and making some kind of notes, because Ms Darbus comes swishing up the aisle, various bracelets clinking together on her arms and scarf floating behind her in an imaginary breeze - which is reasonably cool and a trick Sharpay and Ryan have utterly failed to master - and asking what he thinks so far.
Ryan tenses with panic and Kelsi chokes down a giggle.
“Looks great, Ms Darbus,” Ryan says, giving her a thumbs up and a brilliant white smile. She returns to the stage looking pleased, and Kelsi shakes her head.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she murmurs teasingly.
“It’s not looking that bad,” Ryan says. “Sharpay’s appalling sense of accessorising aside. You do good work.”
“She’s ruined You Are The Music In Me,” Kelsi mutters. “She’s trying to speed it up and add extra solos and things and even Troy looks a little confused and helpless in rehearsals.”
“She doesn’t know her own strength,” Ryan sighs, inadvertently quoting his mom. Kelsi still looks crestfallen beneath her flowered newsboy cap, and he sighs. “I’ll have a word with her.”
Kelsi gives him an admiring look. “You’re a brave, brave man, Ryan Evans,” she tells him.
Ryan smiles at her. “I kind of am, aren’t I?”
“And once again, I have to commend you on your modesty,” Kelsi giggles, elbowing him.
“It’s genetic,” Ryan offers. “Underneath it all, we Evanses can’t help thinking that we’re rightfully the most awesome people in the universe; it’s been hardwired to our DNA, there’s nothing we can do about it. And I am far prettier than any other guy at this school.”
“Remind me why I like you again,” Kelsi says, rolling her eyes.
“I buy you stuff?” Ryan suggests brightly.
Kelsi shrugs, laughing, though she calms down enough to say: “Yeah, I guess there is that.”
~
People probably felt this way on the walk to their executions, Ryan decides morbidly, cutting around the back of the stage to the dressing rooms. He’s only been avoiding the theatre for a week, but it still feels a little strange to return here; the drama club all smile at him as he walks by. After all, it doesn’t seem to bother them that Sharpay stole Troy Bolton and made him join the Spring Musicale. As far as they’re concerned, Ryan is still a perfectly decent guy - or whatever passes for a decent guy in the cut-throat and above all glitzy world of showbiz.
“Hey, man,” Troy offers cheerfully, hurrying past him. Ryan returns the greeting, and once again remembers that Troy is in no way a bad guy; he’s just worryingly easily led and, you know, maybe his weird hair grows downwards into his skull sometimes and impairs his thought processes. Or whatever.
There’s a star made out of gold glitter stuck to the door of Sharpay’s dressing room, and Ryan raises his hand to knock, reminding himself that it’s about time he made up with Shar. He’s angry with her and he’s angry with himself and it’s about time he divided up the blame between them, assigning it to the right people. It’s always worked out well enough in the past.
“Come in,” Shar calls, and Ryan obediently enters. She turns around and fixes him with a sharp glare. “What are you doing here?”
“Kelsi says you’re ruining her big power ballad,” Ryan tells her, pushing his purple fedora back a little to fix her with an appropriate glare. “It’s not your show, sis, no matter how hard you try to take the whole thing over, so I think you need to take out the modifications and leave it alone.”
“Why should I do anything for you?” Sharpay demands.
Ryan sits down so he can be on eye-level with his twin.
“I lost Chad,” he tells her, fighting to keep his voice calm and steady. “You didn’t exactly help, but it was my fault. I wrecked my own relationship and I can’t blame you for that.”
“You bought Gabriella shoes,” Sharpay accuses.
“You, like, lobotomised her boyfriend,” Ryan points out. “And when Gabriella mopes half the student body mopes with her and it all gets pretty tiresome. And she’s a sweet girl. Frighteningly forgiving, but sweet.” He shrugs. “Plus, mom and dad will probably shove us into some special kind of sibling counselling if we don’t start talking to each other soon, and I really do have better things to do with my time.”
Sharpay smiles. “No, you don’t. And we could probably go on not talking to each other for like another week before they got that drastic.”
“Your shoes don’t match your pashmina,” Ryan counters.
There’s a moment of silence. Then Shar practically launches herself across the room and throws her arms around him, her blonde hair tickling his nose and her chin sticking kind of awkwardly into his shoulder, but Ryan doesn’t care because he’s missed her more than he’s willing to admit.
After a couple of minutes, Sharpay pulls back, attempting a bright smile. “Look, Ry, I’ll help you out, ok? If the muppet-haired and tragically dressed Chad Danforth is who you want, then we’ll get him back.”
“Talk to Kelsi,” Ryan tells her. “She’s the one who seems to be coming up with all sorts of ideas as to how to fix this.”
Sharpay’s turquoise-eye-shadowed eyes widen. “Kelsi? Shouldn’t you be handling this yourself? Kelsi won’t be able to plan nearly as well as you and I can.”
“I’m not going to plan anything with you,” Ryan says as calmly as he can manage.
“Oh, Ry, you’re not going to go all masochistic and self-pitying on me, are you? ‘Cause I can go back to ignoring you,” Sharpay informs him. “Don’t get started on how you’re not good enough for Danforth or anything; Danforth’s the one who isn’t good enough for you.”
“Remember how we’re trying to like each other again?” Ryan says lightly.
Sharpay rolls her eyes. “I guess I’d better go track down Kelsi,” she says, getting up and clomping towards the door.
“And Shar…” Ryan begins.
She sighs. “Yes, ok, fine, I’ll leave the song alone.”
Ryan smiles. “Thanks.”
Half an hour later, Sharpay tracks him down where he’s been pretending to study in the library while he waited for her to give him a ride home.
“It’s very tragic,” she says. “Kelsi and Gabriella and Taylor have all formed a little committee thing with pages and pages of lists and a powerpoint presentation on how they’re going to get Danforth back for you.”
Ryan blinks a few times, trying to process this. “Oh.”
“I’m very disturbed,” Sharpay adds. “Kelsi says I can’t help because I’ll upset Gabriella or something. You really seem to have charmed all the girls without me looking; you’re such a slut, Ry.”
“I’m gay,” Ryan reminds her mildly.
“You don’t just have a fag hag,” Sharpay continues, warming to her theme and ignoring him as usual, “You have a harem of them. I would be impressed if I wasn’t quite so freaked.”
Ryan shakes his head, grinning. “Shut up,” he murmurs affectionately, and heads for the library door.
The basketball team are trailing down the hall, clearly having finished after school practise, chatting and laughing. And Chad is directly looking at Ryan as he walks out of the library. His expression is so neutral that it’s impossible to read, but he is looking, which Ryan supposes is a start. But then Sharpay follows Ryan out of the library, and Chad’s expression closes into muted fury again, and he turns away, walking too fast up the hall, seemingly oblivious to his teammates’ shouts to slow down.
“Shit,” Sharpay remarks in a detached tone of voice, watching Chad hurry away without looking back.
Ryan sighs, leaning on his sister and burying his face in her shoulder. “Just take me home, Shar.”
Next Bit
Fandom: High School Musical
Pairing: Ryan/Chad [with bits of Sharpay/Troy and Troy/Gabriella]
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 23, 038 (over the next couple of entries!)
Genre: Slash
Summary: Ryan realises that he’s got to put everything back together.
Author’s Notes: Oh, man, there are no excuses whatsoever for how long it’s taken me to get this finished and posted. None at all. But there is a happy ending and 23,038 words before that, so I just hope people care enough to want to read the end. Anyway, once again, I’m really sorry.
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three]
Kelsi doesn’t trust him. Ryan can’t exactly blame her, since he genuinely isn’t to be trusted; but there’s something kind of depressing about her constantly guarded expression around him. She hasn’t confronted him - Ryan has the horrible suspicion that she’s afraid to - but it’s unspoken between them, and it’s been there ever since Chad walked into their dance class looking on the point of a nervous breakdown a week ago. They’re both pretending that nothing’s wrong, but Ryan knows that Kelsi’s figured out what he’s done, and is not impressed. Ryan isn’t really all that impressed with himself either, when you get right down to it - but tells himself that it’s ok because when he agreed to help Sharpay get Troy Bolton, he had no idea that she was planning on doing this. He didn’t have a clue that she was planning on dragging Troy into her own personal world and turning him into an asshole; but it’s too late now, he can’t stop what’s happening.
At the end of an unbelievably awkward homeroom, Ryan has an even more uncomfortable conversation with Kelsi and she drifts off to her next class with a firmly judgemental look in her eyes. Ryan knows that Chad is waiting to speak to him, and that thought makes him feel considerably better. This relationship with Chad is just about the only thing Ryan is proud of at the moment. But, just as he’s about to go over, Zeke comes running into the classroom, grabs Chad’s arm, and practically drags him out the door. Ryan does not have a good feeling about this, and when Sharpay comes running in a moment or two later, he knows things have imploded.
“Come on,” she says breathlessly, “It’s fabulous! Hurry, Ry, you’ve got to see this!”
Her expression of complete and utter glee is distinctly worrying. Ryan hasn’t seen her this happy since Lana Fraser twisted her ankle, leaving Sharpay with the title role in their sixth-grade school production. And since Sharpay is already starring in this year’s musical, Ryan presumes that something even better has happened, and that’s never a good sign.
Troy and Gabriella are breaking up loudly and publicly. It’s painful to watch, sort of like watching fluffy kittens turning on each other or something, and Ryan feels sick because he knows that he helped this to happen. In the crowd of students, half of them look disturbingly smug (has Sharpay started infecting everyone or something?) and the other half are grimacing. Kelsi is clinging to Chad’s arm, face twisted with horror, but when she catches sight of Ryan she sends him an are-you-happy-now kind of look. Ryan quickly tries to look penitent, and actually, he does feel nauseous, seeing Gabriella on the verge of tears. She doesn’t deserve this.
Chad finally takes his eyes off his ex-best friend, and, unfortunately, looks right at Ryan. Ryan realises that he must look guilty as hell (probably because he actually is) and the look of disappointment and misery on Chad’s face turns to anger brutally fast. Oh, hell, Ryan thinks. He thought he’d been getting away with all this a little too well. It hasn’t been easy, trying to date Chad while simultaneously helping Sharpay make Troy into her little lapdog. Now, Ryan suspects, he won’t have that problem any more. It doesn’t make him feel any better.
“That’s it, I’m sick of you! We’re through, Troy. Go to hell.” Gabriella’s expression is a horrible mixture of misery and anger, and she storms off through the crowd. Kelsi, Taylor and Martha hurry after her, and Ryan, realising what is inevitably going to happen next, quickly goes to find somewhere quiet to hide. He’s not in the mood for an excruciatingly public break-up, but there’s no way Chad will let him get away with this.
It takes time for Chad to track him down, while Ryan plays with the cuffs of his shirt and tries to fight down the butterflies in his stomach. He’s almost tempted to start the exercises he and Sharpay use pre-performance to calm their nerves; but standing alone in a corridor snapping “mah!” at himself won’t help. Instead, he breathes slowly, and decides that he has to face this confrontation with dignity, because he’s got nothing else going for him.
Chad’s face is twisted with anger but there’s desperation underneath that, and Ryan feels guilty for reducing his boyfriend to this.
“I can give you a detailed explanation if you like,” he offers, standing up a little straighter, and forcing himself to look Chad in the eye. He doesn’t want to, God, he just wants to run away, but he didn’t take all those acting lessons for nothing and with any luck he can get through this.
“I just want you to answer one question,” Chad half-snarls, voice shaking. “Did you help her?”
No. I would never have done that to you. I had no idea that she was planning to break up Troy and Gabriella, and if I had known I wouldn’t have let her. Ryan takes a deep breath.
“Yes,” he says.
Chad visibly shudders, the fingers of his right hand momentarily forming a fist. Ryan braces himself; if Chad wants to punch him, he won’t blame him. But the blow doesn’t come.
“You knew that Sharpay was planning on dragging Troy away from his friends and getting him to break up with Gabriella, and you helped her?” Chad sounds incredulous, the words spat out between his teeth, his eyes narrowed.
Every instinct in Ryan’s body is screaming deny it, deny it, deny it, but he knows it’s too late now.
“…Yes.”
“Fuck.” Chad closes his eyes for a moment, as though the truth is too much for him to handle. Then they snap open, and he asks: “So, what, you were using me? Keeping me out of the way?”
The idea that Chad would think that, could think that, after all this time, hurts Ryan more deeply than anything else.
“No! How could you even think that?” he exclaims, taking half a step forward. Chad steps back swiftly, as though terrified Ryan will try to touch him.
“You’ve been lying to me all along. I can’t believe a word you say.” Chad’s voice is shaking now; he’s really losing it. Ryan bites his lip, unable to reply. He wants to walk away, stop Chad from saying any more, because it’s clear that there’s no way on earth they can continue dating, and sooner or later it’s going to get really nasty.
“I don’t understand-” Chad begins. He sounds utterly lost, rubbing a hand across his face before continuing: “I mean, I know you don’t give a damn about Troy or Gabriella, but I really thought you cared enough about me not to screw me over like this. He was my best friend.”
Ryan uses the only excuse he has: “She’s my sister.”
It’s lame, and he knows it, and Chad’s expression changes to one of disgust.
“Yeah, and she’s got you so whipped that you can’t even stand up for yourself any more. It’s sick.”
Ryan needs this to stop. He needs to walk away before he starts crying or maybe even starts pleading pathetically for Chad to forgive him; the Evans family must retain their pride, and they never beg. He needs to apologise and leave.
“Chad, I’m-”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” Chad cuts him off, mouth twisted with anger, hands curled into fists at his sides. “Just don’t. You’re an asshole, Evans, and if you come near me again I’ll hurt you, I swear to God.”
Ryan believes it. Chad walks away down the corridor, and Ryan doesn’t wait to see if he looks back or not. He flees, heading down the backstairs to the music rooms. Kelsi is at the piano, playing a melody that seems to consist of low notes played too hard, mouth pressed together in a thin line.
She looks up when Ryan walks in, and her glare intensifies. Ryan isn’t sure he’s ever seen Kelsi angry before - at least, not this angry - but he can’t have her doing this today.
“Please,” he says, “Please, tomorrow, shout at me, ask me if I’m happy now, call me whatever the hell you like, but please, don’t do this now.”
His voice is thick and he thinks he might cry any second; when he swallows his throat hurts and he takes his blue trilby off and throws it into the corner in a mixture of frustration and misery.
“Did-” Kelsi begins, tone almost neutral.
“Yeah, he did,” Ryan replies, and it cracks in the middle.
Kelsi closes the piano lid quietly, and gets to her feet. She does look sorry, Ryan registers in a detached kind of way. When she walks out, she squeezes his shoulder in a way that’s almost kind. Left alone, Ryan sits down on the piano bench and presses his head into his hands.
~
When he eventually makes it home, Shar is painting her nails again on the couch, metallic blue, hair pulled into a loose knot at the back of her head. She looks unbelievably pleased with herself, and she probably has a pretty good reason. After all, all the pieces of her plan are falling into perfect place.
“Thanks, Ry,” she says brightly, with a dazzling smile, “I really couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You have to stop,” Ryan tells her. “What we’ve done is wrong and we have to undo the damage before it’s too late.”
Sharpay rolls her eyes, placing the bottle of nail polish on the coffee table.
“Come on Ry,” she says, “Troy is so close to being mine, Gabriella’s been punished for stealing my place in the winter musical, and the spring musical is going to be fabulous. Don’t freak out on me now.”
“You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” Ryan asks. He is exhausted, he’s got a migraine and Sharpay’s determined innocent expression isn’t helping. “I mean, didn’t you think about the impact this might have on the Wildcats?”
“The people who held a party to celebrate when we didn’t get into the musical?” Sharpay raises a carefully plucked eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, I give a damn about their feelings. Jesus, Ryan, what is with you?”
“Maybe I’m sick of destroying other people’s lives for my own benefit,” Ryan snaps, and watches as Sharpay’s face creases with confusion. He hasn’t shouted at her in years; it was always easier not to. “You want to know what’s with me, Shar? Chad’s just dumped me, and it’s all your fault.”
“He was never good enough,” Sharpay says dismissively, waving her hand. “He’s collateral, Ryan.”
Ryan feels sick. Sharpay has never been good at empathising, but this is cold even for her.
“Is that all I am to you?” he finds himself yelling desperately, “Fucking collateral? It doesn’t matter what happens to me, as long as you get what you want? Is that it?”
Sharpay’s eyes are filling up with tears.
“You’re so self-centred, Ryan!” she snarls, “Ok, so maybe I didn’t think about how your precious little boyfriend might feel about my plan, but neither did you! So before you go accusing me of screwing your life up, maybe you should think that you messed up your own relationship, and you’re too scared to admit it!”
“I’m self-centred?” Ryan begins incredulously, but Sharpay cuts him off.
“I don’t have to stay here and listen to this from you,” she announces, and sweeps out, slamming the door behind her. Ryan sinks into the couch, hands trembling. A few minutes later, his mom comes in, carrying a tray with a teapot and two mugs, and a bowl of sugar. The smell of Earl Grey is unmistakable; it’s what his mom always makes when things go wrong. She made it for him when his first serious boyfriend broke up with him, and when Sharpay stole the limelight in their fifth-grade dance recital, and a whole load of other shitty times.
“I’m sorry Chad broke up with you, Ducky,” she says peaceably, pouring him a cup, adding sugar, and stirring it.
“You heard that?” Ryan asks sheepishly, accepting the cup and breathing in the flowery scent.
“I think most people in the neighbourhood heard you,” his mom tells him with a little smile, patting his hand. Ryan takes a sip of tea to hide his embarrassment. He likes being the centre of attention, but only when he’s acting, being someone else. Otherwise, he feels like he exists merely to be Sharpay’s background music.
“Shar just doesn’t understand,” he says eventually, sighing it out because he can’t change it.
“Kitten doesn’t know her own strength,” his mom explains gently. “She gets it from your father. I always hoped you’d be able to counteract her.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Ryan says helplessly into the steam rising from his cup.
“Yes you do, sweetie,” his mom replies, reaching over to take his hand. “You’ve got to go to all the people your sister has hurt and fix things. Sooner or later, she’ll realise what she’s done, and she’ll help you. For now, though, it’s up to you to sort this out.”
Ryan has forgotten that when she’s not on a new fad diet or doing pilates for days on end in their garden, his mom is actually pretty sensible and capable of dispensing useful advice.
“Thank you,” he tells her, putting his cup down on the coffee table and giving her a hug.
~
It is all very well for Ryan to assume that it’s all going to be ok with maybe a few bribes and a few more kind-of-sincere apologies, but when he walks into school the next morning (had to get a ride from his mom, Sharpay took the car unreasonably early and Ryan hasn’t quite managed to pass his driving test yet), he realises that it’s going to take more than that. Half the students send him venomous glares, the other half are acting like he doesn’t exist (it’s entirely possible that when he’s nowhere near Sharpay, he doesn’t), and the Wildcats look nauseated as he passes them on the way to his seat.
Ryan would give anything to make Chad look at him. As it is, the boy just sits slumped in his seat, studying the desk in front of him, studiously ignoring everyone sitting around him. Ryan drops into his usual seat behind Sharpay, along from Chad, and carefully does not look around either. Sharpay makes little huffing noises every minute or so, ‘cause she’s so damn good at being angry in an obvious fashion. Ryan is far better at the simmering anger that stays beneath the surface and lasts twice as long; he’s definitely had enough practise at it, and he’s not going to be the first to crack. All their lives, he’s been the first to give, but he won’t, not this time.
“Troy!” Sharpay calls brightly, at a pitch that splits straight through Ryan’s head and explodes into a potential migraine. He angles his hat further over his eyes and wonders how difficult it would be for Troy to actually miss his sister, given that she’s in a outfit that involves more sequins than is probably good for anyone’s health. Their classmates are going to end up blinded - though it’s possibly another nefarious plan of hers; at this point in time Ryan wouldn’t put anything past his sister.
He glances sideways at Troy sitting on Sharpay’s desk and talking rapidly, hands gesturing wildly, and decides that it was really unnecessary of him to suggest cutting off Troy’s ‘problematic’ hair. And probably cruel, and if he hadn’t then maybe he and Chad would have managed… but maybe not.
Ryan is actually torn out of his self-pitying thoughts when Gabriella walks in, head down, books clutched to her stomach. She looks so dejected and unhappy that it actually takes away his self-centred and miserable wallowing, just looking at her. And then the guilt washes over him in thickening waves and he has to glance away because he helped do this to her. Gabriella Montez, who is sweet and inoffensive and likes everyone and has only ever wanted to fit in with a whole new school of scary clique-ish students.
He doesn’t feel like he’s kicked a puppy so much as crucified it and then disembowelled it while laughing manically and singing something by Andrew Lloyd Goddamn Webber.
Ryan is going to burn in hell for this. Or, at least, have to put up with Sharpay’s smugness for the rest of the semester, which is pretty much the same thing. Over the other side of the classroom, he catches Kelsi’s eye and she gives a minute shrug, a you made your bed, lie down in it and tuck yourself in for the long haul expression on her face, though it’s not nearly as damning as Ryan thinks he deserves.
As Ms Darbus walks in and begins a bright and cheerful talk on exactly why cellphones were the worst invention of the twentieth century and how they are all probably going to get ear cancer or at the very least grow up entirely without manners, Ryan lets his head fall onto his desk and refuses to raise it until the bell goes. Chad’s out of the classroom before the sound’s faded away, Sharpay pushes past Ryan’s desk in a deliberately obnoxious way, trying to get a rise out of him - which he won’t give her because he is not playing this game any more - and before he knows it everyone else has hurried away too, leaving him sitting alone.
It looks like his plans to fix all this are going to need some radical re-working.
~
Before his personal universe so very helpfully imploded around him, he and Kelsi had planned a dance lesson this afternoon. However, since she’s one of the people on the tragically long list of People Who Will Not Talk To Ryan Anymore, he heads off to the school’s dance studio alone, connecting his ipod to the speakers and trying to find something to listen to that won’t be overly maudlin or make him upset and/or angry. Usually, in circumstances like this, he resorts to Judy Garland and The Man That Got Away, at least until Shar steps in and tells him to stop it. Even now, with his sister refusing to even look in his direction (and even if he was willing to look at her, he wouldn’t, because her sequins are actually retina-damagingly sparkly today), he gets the feeling she’ll know he cracked and listened to Judy in a morose fashion, and then she’ll make his life even more hellish. Ryan spends a moment trying to work out how his life actually could get worse, and then decides that his dear twin could always resort to physical maiming or something.
Settling on a reasonably neutral salsa rhythm, Ryan starts stretching, working kinks out of his spine put there by being hunched in a mildly penitent fashion all day. He can’t work out his emotions through flexing his muscles though, and he wonders whether guilt, misery, or frustration will take him out first.
The door pushes open. “You didn’t wait for me,” Kelsi says accusingly.
Ryan turns so fast his neck makes an unattractive clicking sound. He is suddenly, ridiculously pleased to see her.
“I thought… you weren’t coming,” he replies lamely. “You’re angry with me.”
“Not angry, just disappointed,” Kelsi corrects him, smiling a little. “And I know it’s not your fault; you’re just very… biddable when it comes to Sharpay.”
“I am not biddable!” Ryan protests, feeling a pout descending before he can stop it.
“The words ‘wrapped around’ and ‘little finger’ spring to mind,” Kelsi tells him, and there’s a teasing glint bright in her eyes. “It’s ok. I’ve just accepted it as an unfortunate character flaw.”
Ryan wants to defend himself but suspects he’s forfeited his right to that ‘cause he’s Sharpay’s lapdog and all.
“So we’re ok?” he asks, and is impressed with the way his voice doesn’t waver or crack in any way.
Kelsi pulls him into a hug, and she’s tiny and much shorter than him but it’s still nice anyway. Ryan closes his eyes and rests his cheek against her royal blue hat, and decides that it’s nice that there’s one person other than his parents who still likes him.
“Right,” Kelsi says, pulling back a little, “You said something about the Foxtrot?”
“I did,” Ryan agrees, disentangling himself from her and going to put some more appropriate music on. Then he returns to Kelsi, taking her hands in his and giving her something that finally starts to feel like a real smile. For a while, they concentrate on the dance, and Ryan is quietly proud to see how good Kelsi is getting, picking up the steps quickly and hardly stumbling at all. Unfortunately, once the uncertainty over the dance leaves her, it gives them more time to talk.
“So, how are you going to win Chad back?” Kelsi asks brightly and unexpectedly, causing Ryan to nearly stamp on her foot as he slips a little.
“The guy made it pretty clear that if I went near him there would be pain,” Ryan replies carefully, tone too sharp. “Lots of pain.”
“You and Sharpay don’t give up easily,” Kelsi replies, pausing to get her breath back as the song changes. “Or at all. So don’t tell me you don’t have a plan.”
“I don’t,” Ryan admits with more honesty than he meant to let out. The music starts again, but he makes no effort to move. “I hurt him, Kelsi. I mean, I hurt everyone, but I really hurt him and I don’t think I can…”
He trails off, horribly aware he’ll probably completely break if he keeps going. Kelsi seems to understand, because she pulls him close again, resting her head against his shoulder.
“But you do have a plan of some kind,” she murmurs. “You two are always scheming.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he responds, attempting to hitch a smile onto his quivering lips.
Kelsi laughs, pats him on the shoulder, and then steps back. “Ok, I think I’m finally getting the Foxtrot, let’s go through it again.”
When they’ve finished dancing around the studio and are sitting on the floor drinking bottled water in a merciful, blissful silence, Ryan turns to Kelsi.
“I’m going to fix all of this,” he tells her. “I’m going to put everything Sharpay broke back together, I promise.”
“I believe you,” Kelsi replies simply. “Between you and Sharpay, I think you got the moral compass.”
“It’s a bitch,” Ryan agrees. He lies back against the cool floor, trying to work out where he’s even going to start, when inspiration flashes up in his mind. “I have to go shopping,” he announces. “I have to go shopping right now.”
Kelsi gives him a bemused look. “Dare I ask why?”
Ryan smiles brightly. “Phase one,” he tells her.
“Are you going to buy an outfit so fabulous that Chad will take one look at you and decide that he doesn’t care what you did to his friends ‘cause you’re pretty anyway?” Kelsi enquires, smirking at him.
“I’m not Sharpay,” he replies, wounded. “And I told you, I can’t devote my energy to winning Chad back.”
“Why not?” Kelsi frowns.
“I’ve been a total bastard to him,” Ryan points out. “I don’t even think I can begin to make up for that, and…” He sighs, swallowing hard, and then mumbles, “I don’t deserve him back.”
Kelsi sighs, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. “So what are you shopping for, then?”
“Wanna come?” Ryan asks. “I’ll buy you something nice, like a small country or whatever.”
“There are stores that sell those in Albuquerque?” Kelsi smirks.
“…Or a new hat,” Ryan continues, ignoring her. “Or some sheet music.”
“I don’t have the stamina for shopping with you,” Kelsi informs him lightly. Which is probably true; to call Ryan ‘fussy’ would be an understatement. “And actually, I’ve got to go catch Taylor before she leaves her Scholastic Decathlon preparation class thing.”
Ryan frowns at her, but Kelsi just pats him on the head before getting up and walking over to collect her bag. “Hang in there,” she calls back to him before closing the door behind her.
For a long, quiet moment Ryan considers giving in and listening to every single ballad he can find on one very long, very excessively emotional playlist. But he has a plan now, so he gets up and goes to change back into proper clothes again.
He has a mission. For the first time in days, the tight knot of pain in his chest starts to ease, just a little.
~
Ryan walks into school the next morning feeling a little brighter. It only took eleven different stores to find what he was looking for and the fabulously wrapped box in his bag is making him feel confident enough to walk into class with his head held high, a navy blue fedora that goes amazingly well with his turquoise shirt tilted over one eye. He sits down at his desk, carefully not looking at Sharpay, who is a vision in unsettling amounts of gold lamé, and not glancing at Chad because every time he does it makes his stomach twist and clench.
Gabriella walks in looking like a burst balloon, dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that does nothing at all for her, expression one of abject misery as she holds her bag against her side and heads for her desk at the back of the room. Ryan watches her, and decides that he’s definitely made the right decision as to which aspect of this whole mess he ought to fix first. He just needs to find his moment.
They struggle through four periods of frustrating hell, where no one concentrates on the classes themselves and Chad remains an angry, hunched figure who won’t talk to anyone, not even Zeke and Jason when they attempt to find out what’s wrong, and Gabriella shrinks into herself, not answering questions. Taylor looks worried, clinging to her friend’s hand and talking to her whenever the teacher’s back is turned. When the bell finally goes for lunch, Ryan is on his feet and over by Gabriella’s desk in an instant.
“Gabriella,” he says, trying to remember the words he spent so many hours figuring out in his room and discovering that this is nothing at all like being in a play, “Can I talk to you?”
She looks up at him, eyes dark bruises in her face. “Sure,” she says, a little hesitantly.
“What the hell-” one of the Wildcats begins, but Kelsi steps in quickly.
“Shall we all go get some food?” she asks, and somehow manages to usher Gabriella’s protectors from the room; possibly because she’s so small and sweet-looking that no one would even imagine disagreeing with her in case she started crying or something. The worst part is that Kelsi totally knows this and is not above abusing it.
“I’ll wait outside,” Taylor tells them, following the others out and closing the door behind her.
Ryan pulls a chair over so he can sit opposite Gabriella, and takes a deep breath.
“I owe you an apology,” he begins. “For whatever it’s worth.”
It spills out in disjointed sentences and it’s not particularly eloquent and probably not even clear in places, but he tells Gabriella everything he did and everything he knew and did nothing about, and tells her how sorry he is.
“Why are you telling me this?” Gabriella asks quietly, looking so tired and unlike herself that it makes Ryan feel ill.
“Because you deserve to know,” Ryan replies. “And I want to start making amends.”
“If Troy let himself be manipulated by Sharpay then I don’t see how we could ever get back together,” Gabriella mumbles, looking down at her hands.
“I’m not talking about you and Troy,” Ryan replies. “I’ve learned to my cost that I’m dreadful at matchmaking. I want to take a step towards making you feel better.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out the large, silver box (so large he had no space for any of his schoolbooks today; he can’t say he’s missed them), putting it on the desk in front of Gabriella. She looks at it with a little apprehension, like it could explode at any second. “Please at least open it,” he practically begs. “It took hours to track just what I was looking for down.”
Gabriella carefully peels the tape back - it figures she’d be the sort to preserve the paper; Sharpay always tears straight in - and eventually reveals the glossy cardboard box inside. She removes the lid and looks at the contents.
“You’re going to make this better with shoes?” she asks, sounding a little incredulous.
“Not just any old shoes,” Ryan replies.
Gabriella frowns a little, but takes one of them out. Mary Jane style, made of glossy black leather with little silver stars cut into them.
“They are beautiful,” she admits a little reluctantly, taking the other out and sitting them side-by-side on the desk. “I can’t accept them.”
“Look,” Ryan begins, “Troy has treated you horribly. My sister and I have treated you horribly, and you’ve lost your boyfriend and the world is looking so bad that it’s making you feel bad about yourself. You need to kick-start your self-esteem so you can get back to being happy.” He coughs. “And it took eleven stores to find just the right pair of shoes for you, so I’m not taking them back now.”
Gabriella smiles slightly and then nods. She leans down and slips off her flats before carefully buckling the new shoes on, turning her feet from side to side, admiring the way they look in spite of herself. She makes to get up, but Ryan stops her.
“Not done yet,” he replies, reaching into his bag for a silver scarf Sharpay hasn’t worn in at least three years - getting into her closet to steal it was a pretty impressive achievement, considering that they’re attempting to stay on opposite sides of the house at the moment (mom and daddy are starting to get a little pissed, dinner is getting really problematic) - and he figures that even if Shar recognises her accessory, she’s not going to start a bitch fight in the hall to reclaim it. At least, he hopes she won’t.
Ryan undoes Gabriella’s ponytail and then ties the scarf into her hair, fluffing it appropriately. He looks down at her thoughtfully.
“We need mascara,” he decides, and turns back to his bag. He gets the feeling Gabriella is starting to enjoy herself, because she giggles.
“I’m not letting you near me with-”
“I’ve been doing Sharpay’s make-up since we were six,” Ryan responds practically, dropping a handful of cosmetics onto the desk. “Tilt your head back.”
Gabriella obediently lets him dust some make-up over her depressed, exhausted face.
“There,” he says, standing back to admire his handiwork, “You look fabulous. And now you’re going to walk into that lunchroom with your head held high and everyone is going to be so proud of how well you’re handling this.”
Gabriella stands up, smiling at him. “You didn’t have to do this,” she tells him. “Thank you so much, Ryan.”
He shrugs, unwilling to accept the gratitude. “Yeah, I kind of did.”
Gabriella takes a few steps closer to the door before she realises he’s not following. He’s not going in there, not with Chad in close proximity ignoring him so pointedly and the other Wildcats glaring at him because as far as they’re concerned he and Sharpay are pretty much interchangeable. Not to mention Sharpay holding court with her brand new consort, and Ryan can think of a million things he would rather be doing. Burning all his hats, for example, or having laryngitis, or levering out his eyes with an eyeliner pencil. That sort of thing, you know?
“Come on,” Gabriella tells him, holding out a hand. “If I have to go in there, then so do you.”
Ryan sighs, but walks over and takes her hand anyway. They leave the classroom together to find Taylor leaning against the wall.
“Nice shoes,” she tells Gabriella, and then smiles at Ryan. “You coming for lunch with us?”
“…Yes?” Ryan replies hesitantly, as Gabriella turns to him with a pleading expression. “Apparently.”
Taylor takes Gabriella’s other hand and the three of them head for the cafeteria. When they walk in, interested looks come from all directions. Sharpay is glaring, mouth pressed in a thin, thin line, in an I-don’t-care-if-you’re-my-brother-I’ll-still-have-a-hit-put-out-on-you kind of way, and Troy merely looks puzzled. Over on the jocks’ table, Chad looks like he’s set to explode all over Zeke and whatever baked goods he’s brought in in Tupperware containers today. That would be sad, Ryan decides; the cookies definitely don’t deserve to get hurt. They’re innocents in this.
“I have to get out of here,” he murmurs, but for some frustrating reason Gabriella won’t let go of his hand.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Chad demands, storming up to them. He’s talking in a sort of low, furious whisper, and glaring at Gabriella like she’s the one in the wrong. “Do you not know what Evans did to you?”
Ah, so they’re back to calling each other by surname. Ryan fucking hates break-ups and the ugly little things that start to crop up afterwards.
“He’s apologised,” Gabriella replies steadily. “And he’s done more to make me feel better in the last ten minutes than any of you have in the last two days, so I’m ok with Ryan being here.”
“I can’t believe that you’d even talk to him,” Chad begins hotly.
“Look,” Taylor says, “We’re right in the middle of the cafeteria right now, so maybe we could take this somewhere a little less public? Boys?”
“He destroys everything he touches,” Chad warns.
“He is standing right here,” Ryan finally snaps.
“I’m not sitting with him,” Chad practically snarls at Gabriella, entirely ignoring Ryan as though he just doesn’t exist.
It’s so nice to know that they’re handling this with maturity.
“Fine.” Taylor’s calm, clear voice slices through the argument. “Gabi and I will sit with Ryan somewhere else. You need to go back to Zeke and eat whatever he’s baked today and calm down before this implodes and we all get detention.”
Through all of this, Chad hasn’t even looked at him. Not once. It hurts more than Ryan wants to admit, even to himself. He knew that Chad was pissed, but…
“What was that about?” Gabriella asks, as they sit down at an empty table and Chad stalks back to his. “Chad looks really angry…”
Taylor shrugs, opening her bag and getting out her lunch. “He and Ryan broke up. It’s getting pretty messy.”
“You… know?” Ryan asks, feeling about as stunned as Gabriella looks. Taylor shrugs, and Ryan feels horror and surprise cross his face. “You know.”
“Chad told me,” Taylor replies. “Well, about the you-being-together part. It was hilariously awkward, actually, one of those times when you really wish you had a camera. And I kind of figured out the break-up bit for myself.”
“It’s not that messy,” Ryan tells her. “He worked out that I helped Sharpay with her latest Student Body Domination plan, told me I was an asshole, and hasn’t spoken to me since. Pretty cut and dried, really.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabriella murmurs, patting Ryan tentatively on the shoulder, going from shocked to sympathetic in a minute. She really is inhumanly nice, Ryan reflects, to a degree that’s nearly worrying. “How long had you two been going out?”
“About a month,” Ryan replies. “And it was great, and I ruined it. Can we change the subject now?”
Taylor has a thoughtful expression on her face that Ryan doesn’t entirely like; it’s too similar to the one Kelsi had last night; he can’t help feeling that all the girls around him are Planning Something, and that can never end well.
“But you two used to…” Gabriella begins, looking at Taylor.
“It didn’t take,” Taylor replies, smirking. “Really didn’t take.” She gestures at Ryan. “As you can probably tell.”
“Wow,” Gabriella looks a little awkward. “I had no idea that you were even… let alone Chad.”
“Did the hats not give it away?” Ryan enquires, winking at her. “Or the large amount of pink I wear on a weekly basis? Or the fact I own three different colours of glitter mascara that I let you borrow for Twinkle Towne?”
“I just thought you were…” Gabriella gestures vaguely, “…Eccentric. I mean, I suspected, but I figured…”
“Oh dear.” Ryan shakes his head in mock-disappointment. “You can do things with numbers in your brain that most people can’t do with a calculator and a sheet with all the answers printed on it, but yet you can’t remember to put batteries in your gaydar.”
Gabriella starts giggling and Ryan sort of wants to laugh too, if only to ease what feels like cramp in his stomach, which settled there when Chad walked up to yell at them and doesn’t seem to want to go away and leave him the hell alone. He’s broken up with people before, but no one at school and no one he had to see every single day afterwards. He sighs, attempting to keep a cheerful expression on his face. Taylor must notice, because she reaches over to squeeze his arm in a supportive fashion.
“It’s going to be ok, Ryan,” she promises.
Ryan hitches a smile onto his mouth, but he doesn’t really believe her.
~
“I’m unnerved,” Kelsi offers, fingers pressing down on several piano keys to create a discordant accompaniment to her words.
Ryan concentrates hard on the script lying in his lap. As part of Sharpay’s You-Must-Not-Be-In-The-Musical-Ryan plan, she got him out of the way by pushing him into the local youth theatre’s production of Guys and Dolls, and in a couple of weeks he’s going to be Sky Masterson. Right now, full of frustration and emotional turmoil as he is, he can’t think of anything more he would rather not do, but a commitment is a commitment and he can’t quite resist either the spotlight or the awesome black velvet fedora the wardrobe department found for him.
Kelsi plays a few, slightly more harmonious notes and then says: “Still unnerved.”
“I’m sure I’ve done more disturbing things than this in your presence,” Ryan responds.
“You’re hiding out underneath my piano with your script,” Kelsi points out carefully. “I’m allowed to be a little freaked.”
“I want somewhere quiet,” Ryan explains, “With nice, soft, plinky background music. And most importantly, it has to be far away from all other people.”
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried that I’m apparently the only person you want to be around today,” Kelsi sighs, and a scratching sound implies that she’s making notations on the blank sheet music scattered across the piano lid.
“I socialised,” Ryan protests. “Gabriella and Taylor seem to have decided that they like hanging out with me; we had lunch for the third time this week. I just… like it here.”
Kelsi tries out a melody, a soft stream of notes, and a smile quirks Ryan’s lips. He turns his attention back to the script because, no matter what, if something’s worth doing then it’s worth doing absolutely damn brilliantly and with the potential for as many curtain calls as possible. Kelsi starts humming and playing the piano simultaneously, losing herself in her music once more, and Ryan tunes her out to soothing background noise while double-checking he knows the dialogue for the whole dulce de leche scene.
The door opens, and someone comes in. Ryan isn’t really listening, focused instead on Sky and Sarah, until a worryingly familiar voice says:
“Move over, Kelsi, I’m having totally heinous day. You know, in chemistry this morning, he-”
“I feel I should probably warn you that Ryan is sitting underneath the piano,” Kelsi interrupts calmly, not breaking off from her playing, “He hasn’t really explained, but I’m guessing it’s either because it’s pretty quiet here, or he’s planning on dismembering me at the earliest opportunity, but either way he’s here and you might need to re-think whatever you wanted to say.”
“Like I wanted to talk about Evans,” Chad snaps, sounding angrier than he did a moment ago, and Ryan stares fixedly but unseeingly at the printed words on the page, trying to tell himself that he’s not going to go mad any moment. “Jeez,” he adds in a slightly louder tone, “Are you, like, stalking me or something?”
“Yes,” Ryan mutters, closing his script with a slap of pages, “Because of course I knew that you were planning on coming to see Kelsi at this very minute and thought that it would be fun to get here before you.” He comes out from under the piano, automatically adjusting his lime green trilby to a more disdainful angle. “Or maybe I just happen to be in the same places as you because we go to the same school and we take several of the same classes. You know, just as a thought.”
His tone sounds poisonous and so sarcastic that the words sting his teeth, but Chad is actually looking at him for the first time in nearly a week and if Ryan has to keep hurting him just to keep that eye contact then that’s what he’ll do, because the one thing that he can’t handle from Chad is nothing. At this moment, he’ll take any amount of anger or hurt Chad wants to throw in his direction, just as long as he isn’t ignoring him.
“Right, sorry, I forgot,” Chad all but spits, “Us lower mortals are so much stupider and more disposable than you and your precious sister. Silly of me not to remember, really.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake-” Ryan begins hotly, but Kelsi stands up and glares at them both.
“Boys!”
They fall into a guilty silence, turning to look at the girl. Her cheeks are flushed underneath her lilac cloche hat, and her fingers are pressed so hard against the piano lid that they’ve gone white.
“Enough,” she tells them, quietening her tone though her eyes still spark. Scary girl, Kelsi; Ryan firmly believes that she could take on Sharpay when she’s in one of her I am queen of the whole universe and can therefore trample other people beneath my tasteful silver wedges because of this so don’t even think about getting in my way moods. Not quite, of course, because Kelsi always seems to crumple around Sharpay, but maybe one day… The thought almost amuses him enough to forget the situation he’s stuck in.
“You’ve broken up,” Kelsi continues, voice very sympathetic. “And it’s sad, and I get that you’re both angry as hell with each other and the situation, but you’re not helping anything by setting out to cause hurt.”
“But you’ve got to know what he-” Chad starts loudly.
“Ryan and I have sorted that out,” Kelsi cuts him off. “But if you don’t feel capable of doing that then one of you needs to leave this room because I’m trying to write a song that’s been in my head all day.”
A fresh layer of guilt lays over the old ones, and Ryan scoops up his script. “I’ll go,” he mumbles.
“I’ll run lines with you in tomorrow’s free period,” Kelsi offers, patting his arm as he walks past. Chad says nothing, becoming intently interested in his sneakers. Ryan bites down on his tongue so hard that it hurts.
Later that evening, when he’s lying on his bed attempting not to be morose and trying as hard as he can not to hear Shar wandering around next door thumping things in a way clearly designed to frustrate the hell out of him, his cellphone buzzes with a message. When he picks it up, it’s from Kelsi: he really misses you.
It doesn’t actually help, and it’s only the thought that he’d have to explain to his mom exactly why he needed a new phone that prevents him from throwing it across the room.
~
Ms Darbus is all I know that you’re doing your latest musical outside the school, Ryan, but I do so appreciate your creative input, which finds him sitting around in the theatre watching his sister and Troy being nauseating. Kelsi comes to join him after a while, leaning supportively against his shoulder.
“What have you done?” she asks, sounding amused. “Look at what you helped create.”
Troy and Sharpay are laughing about something, one of them fluffed a line and apparently it’s just about the most hilarious thing that’s ever happened, like ever. It’s sickening and a little traumatising. As far as Ryan can remember, Sharpay has never wanted this sort of thing. Not ever. She wants a sycophantic partner and someone who can sing and dance and act reasonably well - though, of course, not as well as her; that bit’s vital - and she wants to have fun, but Ryan never got even the vaguest of ideas that his sister ever wanted the whole drearily-vanilla-relationship thing she’s currently having with Troy.
“Maybe I should break them up,” he muses lightly. “Shar won’t speak to me ever again and I don’t think Gabriella would be in any way better off, but it would probably be for the good of mankind anyway.”
Kelsi watches them dance around on the stage for a long moment. “It would be,” she agrees. “And even if mankind weren’t grateful, I know I would be.”
Ryan taps his fingers against the leg of his mauve skinny jeans, watching Sharpay, and deciding that if they were still talking he’d have advised against today’s outfit.
“She misses me,” he decides.
“How can you tell?” Kelsi asks curiously.
“Her accessorising abilities are disintegrating,” Ryan explains. “Her pashmina clashes slightly with her shoes, and I wouldn’t have let her do that.”
Kelsi sighs. “I will never understand the relationship between you two. From the outside, it doesn’t look all that healthy.” She gives him a smile, as though trying to assure him that it’s not a personal attack. Ryan knows. He and Shar have never had the most beneficial of relationships, but he adores her nonetheless. And when she remembers to look away from her ill-gotten victory, she’ll remember that she adores him too.
“I used to have a nauseatingly sweet relationship with my boyfriend,” Ryan mumbles at last, carefully not looking at Kelsi. “It was awesome.”
“I know.” Kelsi squeezes his hand tightly.
Ryan sighs. “And I screwed it up myself ‘cause most of it was based on a lie and I thought I was being so smart ‘cause I had the best of both worlds and I’d kind of convinced myself that Chad wouldn’t care and I couldn’t abandon Shar, she’s Shar, she’d have only hurt me or stolen my favourite hats or something, and the Troy-and-Gabriella thing was kind of nauseating and besides, it’s what we’ve always done so I didn’t really see what was going to be so different about it this time and I hate this whole damn situation because I feel guilty all the time and Chad won’t look at me and it makes me angry ‘cause he won’t let me explain and maybe I don’t deserve the chance but if it were the other way around I would totally let him talk to me and even through all that I can’t look at him without wanting to kiss him and it… it really, really sucks.”
Kelsi is silent for a while, though she maintains her grip on Ryan’s hand. Finally, she turns to him with a sweet smile: “Better?”
Now he’s finally gotten it all off his chest, Ryan feels like he can begin breathing again.
“A little,” he murmurs, concentrating on the light glinting off Sharpay’s aqua-sequinned kitten heels because it’s distracting enough that he doesn’t need to think about anything else.
It becomes worryingly clear that he was meant to be actually watching the rehearsal and making some kind of notes, because Ms Darbus comes swishing up the aisle, various bracelets clinking together on her arms and scarf floating behind her in an imaginary breeze - which is reasonably cool and a trick Sharpay and Ryan have utterly failed to master - and asking what he thinks so far.
Ryan tenses with panic and Kelsi chokes down a giggle.
“Looks great, Ms Darbus,” Ryan says, giving her a thumbs up and a brilliant white smile. She returns to the stage looking pleased, and Kelsi shakes her head.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she murmurs teasingly.
“It’s not looking that bad,” Ryan says. “Sharpay’s appalling sense of accessorising aside. You do good work.”
“She’s ruined You Are The Music In Me,” Kelsi mutters. “She’s trying to speed it up and add extra solos and things and even Troy looks a little confused and helpless in rehearsals.”
“She doesn’t know her own strength,” Ryan sighs, inadvertently quoting his mom. Kelsi still looks crestfallen beneath her flowered newsboy cap, and he sighs. “I’ll have a word with her.”
Kelsi gives him an admiring look. “You’re a brave, brave man, Ryan Evans,” she tells him.
Ryan smiles at her. “I kind of am, aren’t I?”
“And once again, I have to commend you on your modesty,” Kelsi giggles, elbowing him.
“It’s genetic,” Ryan offers. “Underneath it all, we Evanses can’t help thinking that we’re rightfully the most awesome people in the universe; it’s been hardwired to our DNA, there’s nothing we can do about it. And I am far prettier than any other guy at this school.”
“Remind me why I like you again,” Kelsi says, rolling her eyes.
“I buy you stuff?” Ryan suggests brightly.
Kelsi shrugs, laughing, though she calms down enough to say: “Yeah, I guess there is that.”
~
People probably felt this way on the walk to their executions, Ryan decides morbidly, cutting around the back of the stage to the dressing rooms. He’s only been avoiding the theatre for a week, but it still feels a little strange to return here; the drama club all smile at him as he walks by. After all, it doesn’t seem to bother them that Sharpay stole Troy Bolton and made him join the Spring Musicale. As far as they’re concerned, Ryan is still a perfectly decent guy - or whatever passes for a decent guy in the cut-throat and above all glitzy world of showbiz.
“Hey, man,” Troy offers cheerfully, hurrying past him. Ryan returns the greeting, and once again remembers that Troy is in no way a bad guy; he’s just worryingly easily led and, you know, maybe his weird hair grows downwards into his skull sometimes and impairs his thought processes. Or whatever.
There’s a star made out of gold glitter stuck to the door of Sharpay’s dressing room, and Ryan raises his hand to knock, reminding himself that it’s about time he made up with Shar. He’s angry with her and he’s angry with himself and it’s about time he divided up the blame between them, assigning it to the right people. It’s always worked out well enough in the past.
“Come in,” Shar calls, and Ryan obediently enters. She turns around and fixes him with a sharp glare. “What are you doing here?”
“Kelsi says you’re ruining her big power ballad,” Ryan tells her, pushing his purple fedora back a little to fix her with an appropriate glare. “It’s not your show, sis, no matter how hard you try to take the whole thing over, so I think you need to take out the modifications and leave it alone.”
“Why should I do anything for you?” Sharpay demands.
Ryan sits down so he can be on eye-level with his twin.
“I lost Chad,” he tells her, fighting to keep his voice calm and steady. “You didn’t exactly help, but it was my fault. I wrecked my own relationship and I can’t blame you for that.”
“You bought Gabriella shoes,” Sharpay accuses.
“You, like, lobotomised her boyfriend,” Ryan points out. “And when Gabriella mopes half the student body mopes with her and it all gets pretty tiresome. And she’s a sweet girl. Frighteningly forgiving, but sweet.” He shrugs. “Plus, mom and dad will probably shove us into some special kind of sibling counselling if we don’t start talking to each other soon, and I really do have better things to do with my time.”
Sharpay smiles. “No, you don’t. And we could probably go on not talking to each other for like another week before they got that drastic.”
“Your shoes don’t match your pashmina,” Ryan counters.
There’s a moment of silence. Then Shar practically launches herself across the room and throws her arms around him, her blonde hair tickling his nose and her chin sticking kind of awkwardly into his shoulder, but Ryan doesn’t care because he’s missed her more than he’s willing to admit.
After a couple of minutes, Sharpay pulls back, attempting a bright smile. “Look, Ry, I’ll help you out, ok? If the muppet-haired and tragically dressed Chad Danforth is who you want, then we’ll get him back.”
“Talk to Kelsi,” Ryan tells her. “She’s the one who seems to be coming up with all sorts of ideas as to how to fix this.”
Sharpay’s turquoise-eye-shadowed eyes widen. “Kelsi? Shouldn’t you be handling this yourself? Kelsi won’t be able to plan nearly as well as you and I can.”
“I’m not going to plan anything with you,” Ryan says as calmly as he can manage.
“Oh, Ry, you’re not going to go all masochistic and self-pitying on me, are you? ‘Cause I can go back to ignoring you,” Sharpay informs him. “Don’t get started on how you’re not good enough for Danforth or anything; Danforth’s the one who isn’t good enough for you.”
“Remember how we’re trying to like each other again?” Ryan says lightly.
Sharpay rolls her eyes. “I guess I’d better go track down Kelsi,” she says, getting up and clomping towards the door.
“And Shar…” Ryan begins.
She sighs. “Yes, ok, fine, I’ll leave the song alone.”
Ryan smiles. “Thanks.”
Half an hour later, Sharpay tracks him down where he’s been pretending to study in the library while he waited for her to give him a ride home.
“It’s very tragic,” she says. “Kelsi and Gabriella and Taylor have all formed a little committee thing with pages and pages of lists and a powerpoint presentation on how they’re going to get Danforth back for you.”
Ryan blinks a few times, trying to process this. “Oh.”
“I’m very disturbed,” Sharpay adds. “Kelsi says I can’t help because I’ll upset Gabriella or something. You really seem to have charmed all the girls without me looking; you’re such a slut, Ry.”
“I’m gay,” Ryan reminds her mildly.
“You don’t just have a fag hag,” Sharpay continues, warming to her theme and ignoring him as usual, “You have a harem of them. I would be impressed if I wasn’t quite so freaked.”
Ryan shakes his head, grinning. “Shut up,” he murmurs affectionately, and heads for the library door.
The basketball team are trailing down the hall, clearly having finished after school practise, chatting and laughing. And Chad is directly looking at Ryan as he walks out of the library. His expression is so neutral that it’s impossible to read, but he is looking, which Ryan supposes is a start. But then Sharpay follows Ryan out of the library, and Chad’s expression closes into muted fury again, and he turns away, walking too fast up the hall, seemingly oblivious to his teammates’ shouts to slow down.
“Shit,” Sharpay remarks in a detached tone of voice, watching Chad hurry away without looking back.
Ryan sighs, leaning on his sister and burying his face in her shoulder. “Just take me home, Shar.”
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