A Holiday Fan Fiction,
Cheap, Flavored Chap Stick=Romance - -
December 19, 2007:
Wednesday brought on poorly hidden suspicion. Ryan was—literally—snapping at anyone who attempted to make small talk with him, including Jasper, the pint-sized, timid-as-hell new Drama Club limb. The poor, fainthearted and surprisingly short junior had only wanted to discuss the Winter Musicale with Ryan, and so began a one-sided game of Twenty Questions. Jasper had wound up hastily, and nervously, making his way out of the cafeteria after the fifth unanswered question fired at him. Ryan had to admit, after that one, he felt kind of guilty and embarrassed.
He tried to keep the suspicions under wraps, really, he did, but it was so difficult not to accuse every passing person of being behind the surprisingly clever scheme! Not to mention the fact that he had been so sure that there would be some other gift waiting for him yesterday, only to discover that there was nothing in his locker: no note, no cutely-wrapped box, nothing!
After he got over his little inner tantrum, he had devised a mental list—if he had actually made a list on paper with one of his favorite pompom-topped pens, that would just be obsessive to the max—of possible culprits, and people who wouldn’t even be considered.
Under the completely free-of-charge were all of the Wildcats, cheerleaders included (though he did have his doubts about the one, Nadine, who mentioned something about having a liking for theatrical arts to him last year…), as well as the majority of the Chemistry Lab Geeks.
The only people he suspected were Kelsi (he always did think she kind of had a crush on him—who didn’t, though?), Sharpay (she loved to play pranks on Ryan, and she knew that he was secretly a hopeless romantic), or maybe, possibly, his mother (she loved surprising him, and of course they had the money to get people to work undercover, even for something as mundane as a Christmas Mystery Game), and so far, there were no real clues that pointed directly at them. This game of guess-who frustrated Ryan to no end.
He had tried to inconspicuously glance at other people’s handwriting during classes, and he had been wrongly accused of cheating during a pop quiz because of it. Still, he had found no one with the same, exact penmanship as the mysterious person’s—he had memorized how the person dotted their i’s, crossed their t’s, and even how their letters tended to sweep in a slightly sloppy left direction.
He wrote out a pass to the bathroom before his final morning class was over, intent on trying to spot someone placing a note in his locker.
Just as he closed the classroom door and walked off in the direction of his locker, someone collided with him. He grunted, nearly falling to the floor had it not been for a pair of arms hastily wrapped around his midsection.
“Watch where you’re—“ He started scathingly, until he looked up at whom it was that bumped into him. Chad Danforth, grinning sheepishly, looked down at Ryan with his warm brown eyes.
“Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean to knock you over like that.” He apologized, righting himself and Ryan at once. Habitually brushing off the front of his slightly wrinkled shirt, he smiled at Chad and shrugged.
“It’s fine. No damage done.”
“Oh, and, um…” Chad said, trailing off uneasily and scoffing his sneaker on the linoleum floor, causing a rather high-pitched squeak to erupt. “Some dude asked me to give you this.” He quickly rambled, his one hand shooting out to Ryan. There was a small slip of paper grasped tightly between his index finger and his thumb.
Ryan gasped involuntarily, quickly grabbing the note. “That’s just my luck! I go out early to try and catch them in the act, and they turn all Bond-esque and use some lackey to give me the next note! Oh, no offense, Chad,” Ryan said offhand at the lackey comment.
“Wait,” Ryan said, stopping his obsessive ministrations, “Did you see who—“ He glanced up, but no one was in front of him. He looked around, Chad nowhere in sight.
“Odd…” He mumbled, but shrugged it off, instead opting to open up the note he still had.
Ask the playmaker for the present after your Drama Club meeting.
It said, and Ryan frowned for a moment, deep in thought. The playmaker? Who was that?
All through lunch, Ryan didn’t touch the lasagna on his lunch tray once because he was so deep in thought.
“Hey Ry, what’s got you thinking?” Gabriella teased, smiling as she rubbed Troy’s hand affectionately with her own.
“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing Gabs.” He said offhandedly as he tapped his chin with his index finger. He knew one thing about this person, at least. Well, more like two, but the second was more of a guess. First off, this someone was a guy! That only left a million and one suspects leftover, but at least Kelsi, Sharpay and his own mother were crossed off of his list.
“Hey Chad,” Ryan asked suddenly, startling the darker-skinned jock. “Do you know who the playmaker is?”
“Um…” Chad trailed off slightly nervously, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t think I do. Troy?” He asked, looking to the basketball MVP of East High. Troy, who had been gazing deeply into his girlfriend’s warm eyes for the past ten minutes, blinked out of his love-induced stupor. “What?”
Ryan rolled his eyes and Chad snorted out of amusement. “D’you know who the playmaker would be?” Troy seemed to be visibly mulling the question over in his mind. Ryan wasn’t sure if it was just some overly-done act. “Well, there’s the playmaker in basketball, but… Oh!” He exclaimed, a grin on his face and his blue eyes sparkling. “Kelsi’s the theatrical playmaker.” He stated with an all-knowing smirk. Chad gave a little glare at his friend, which made Troy’s expression melt instantly.
“Right… Thanks, Troy!” Ryan chirped, for once glad that he was associated with the rambunctious Wildcat. He jumped up to discard his now-cold, untouched lunch before hopping jovially out of the lunchroom. Many eyes were watching his leaving form, and Troy shook his head.
“Dude… I swear, he eats magic peppy dust with his cereal every morning.”
Drama club couldn’t have come any sooner for Ryan, and he was bouncing impatiently in his seat the entire time. Sharpay slapped him over his head with her script, causing his beloved pink-with-leopard-print fedora to fly off of his skull and onto the floor.
He hadn’t been very happy after that, which only caused him to feel more eager.
Finally, his club had wrapped up, and he made his way over to Kelsi, who was busily organizing her papers over and over again in a completely obsessive-compulsive manner.
“Oh, Ryan!” She said with plastic surprise. She smiled innocently up at him, her expressive eyes glowing through the lenses of her glasses.
“Hey, Kels. Look,” Ryan started, completely all business-like, “I got this note from some random mystery person today, and it said to meet the playmaker for something after Drama club.”
Kelsi nodded with a warm smile, and reached into her rucksack for something. Ryan was trying to look over her shoulder to see what she was fetching for him without being so conspicuous about it. Before Kelsi leaned up, he made it look like he was standing completely ramrod straight the entire time. Kelsi, however, didn’t look fooled. With a mischievous grin, she passed over a festively wrapped parcel.
“Do you know who gave this to you, Kelsi?” Ryan asked excitedly, momentarily forgetting about the present he held. Kelsi shook her head with glee, and got up from her desk.
“I’m sorry Ryan, if I told you anything, it’d ruin the fun.” He stared in shock at her back as she made her way through the maze of desks, and before she could evade him completely, he quickly danced—literally—around all of the desks and caught up to her, grabbing onto her arm.
“Fun? Kelsi, I’m losing precious beauty sleep over this matter!” He whined, tugging on her elbow for good measure. Maybe if he nearly dislocated her appendage, it would persuade her to tell…
Before he could consider physically harming one of his new friends (which he hoped to keep, so it was probably for the better), Kelsi calmly removed Ryan’s hands from her forearm and, with a cheerful smile, waved and walked out of the classroom.
Ryan pouted and huffed a few times, but then realized it was a lost effort since there was no audience to perform for. He sighed and shook his head, but his bad mood was gone for the time being when he remembered the present. It was sitting teasingly on Kelsi’s desk, and Ryan had to, once again, make his way over to where he’d left it. The school really needed to consider expanding the building!
Of course, he had to open the card first; maybe he had an OCD as well? He paid it no mind, instead nearly ripping the note in half because of his enthusiasm.
Candy cane flavored kisses being spread on my lips…
Ryan looked disappointed. That was it? He frowned before opening the wrapped package. Revealed was a small drugstore brand of lip balm. Ryan inspected the Peppermint-flavored Lip Smackers tube, and snapped the cap open before hesitantly sniffing at the revealed stuff inside. Mm… peppermint!
He looked around for a moment, as if seeing if there were any hidden cameras to capture him putting on such a girly, cheap lip product (well, he didn’t really care so much about the girly part) before putting a light smear on his top and bottom lips. He cautiously rubbed them together, and smiled at how cool it felt on his skin.
He whistled as he left the classroom; he still had a few more periods of the day to go, so maybe there’d be more presents!
As he expected, there was another little something left for him. It was the end of the day, when someone knocked his poor, tarnished cat-printed fedora to the ground again! He grumbled, but didn’t make any other comment as he bent over to snatch the hat up before it was stepped on.
He was surprised when he saw a small evergreen-colored envelope nestled in his hat like a baby bird in a nest.
Quickly tossing the hat upon his head, for once not worrying if it was tilted at that precise angle, he looked around to see if he spotted someone making a hasty getaway. Nope, there was no one in the premises except for Chad. Oh well. He looked back down at the card he was holding, and shoved his index finger underneath the flap of the envelope and wrenched it open.
Inside was a merry little Hallmark Christmas card, complete with a cute, snugly dressed penguin on the front. When he opened up the card, he childishly grinned when “Jingle Bell Rock” played once more.
Getting over the nostalgia that the song brought on, he quickly read what was written inside.
A wonderful feeling of delight from a card,
The little snowflake that you catch on your nose…
He smiled, feeling an inner warmth radiate throughout his system like he was some kind of humanoid radiator. What was it about holiday cards that made him so smile-y? Or was it just because this… person was incredibly thoughtful? Who would waste so much of their time and effort on him?
- Current Mood: sick
A Holiday Fan Fiction,
Warm and Fuzzy - -
December 17, 2007:
Ryan had realized, after polishing off the entire thermos on his way back home, that he hadn’t stuck around to investigate the whole thing! It really got him in a right mood, because it happened to be a Friday. He couldn’t remember another time he’d been glum about the weekends.
Thankfully, with Sharpay at his throat with Winter Musicale script rehearsals and his mother’s weekend mother-son bonding trips to the spa, the weekend seemed to breeze by. Well, not really, but what mattered was that Monday had finally arrived.
By the time Ryan was in History class, he was wriggling in his seat like some kind of worm, and the teacher frowned and asked him if he had to use the bathroom. Ryan didn’t really have the attention span to be properly embarrassed, and he didn’t seem to keep track of anything, not even Drama class, because he was focusing on the five minutes between his last morning class and lunchtime, when he could finally go to his locker.
After the bell rang, Ryan rushed to his locker like something was chasing after him. He was breathless once he finally made it to his destination, and felt his spirits dampen when there wasn’t a note shoved carelessly into the grill of his locker. Sighing somewhat dejectedly, he opened up his locker and was about to shove his morning books into it when something soft and squishy rolled out from one of the shelves and bounced on his head once before falling onto the ground.
A pair of burgundy wool-knit mittens was at his feet; a small, familiar folded-up card was tied around one of the mitten’s thumbs. Ryan quickly bent down, making sure no one spotted the clothing, before he carefully placed the gloves back into his locker so they didn’t fall. He took the note off by its string, stowing it in his pocket to read at some other time.
Ryan had vowed to not glance at the letter until school had ended, which meant his mind wandered off during his classes. He was reprimanded more than once, and his sister had asked him if he was feeling well. Ryan shook it off, grinning easily at his sister and telling her that he couldn’t be better.
Chad had randomly walked up to him, all smiles and looking much like the casual guy who’s about to ask out some lucky chick. Ryan vaguely wondered if Chad was still dancing around Taylor.
“Hey Evans,” Was all he said, and Ryan swore the Wildcat winked at him before walking off down the hall. He didn’t think much of it, because he was too occupied with the rush of adrenaline at the thought of this mystery person.
He had finally gotten to his locker at the end of the day and he used its large metal door to block him as he opened the note up. Inside read:
Some wool mittens for a snowball fight
(Same Place, Same Time.)
He cursed, glancing at his wristwatch as he shoved his homework into his backpack. He was about to close his locker, but remembered the gloves. He snatched them from the top shelf and ran off in the direction of the juniors’ calculus class.
The hall was mostly deserted by the time he’d arrived at the classroom, and he opened the door quicker than he had before.
On the same desk was a small white box, with another note attached to it.
He quickly walked over to the desk, and opened the note before touching the small box.
A Christmas carol to make a smile break free—
How many ornaments are on that Christmas tree?
Well, that made all the sense in the world. This person, whoever he or she was, was very into Christmas, apparently.
He popped open the cardboard lid of the box, peering inside. There was a small wildcat ornament, one that could be bought in the school’s small gift shop, and when you pressed its red, glowing, Rudolph-style nose, it played a few lines of “Jingle Bell Rock”. He glanced back at the note, and felt a small grin threatening to spread across his face.
He saw something pass by the doorway in his peripheral vision, and he glanced over at the hallway, finding it empty. He shook off the feeling of being watched, instead closing the box and pocketing the note. He went home, putting the newest notes and gifts he’d received that day on his desk, next to the other notes and the empty, cleaned-out thermos.
He could definitely see a theme going on… What if this unknown person happened to be in the Drama Club, and was competing for the main role, the role he wanted, in the Winter Musicale? He would have overlooked the thought, as it had been preposterous, but after Troy and Gabriella had came along and snatched away the spotlight in the Twinkle Towne production, even though he’d gotten over the grudge, he realized that it was indeed possible that other people could earn his spot in East High’s musicales. The thought scared him, and he toughened up his resolve to get to the bottom of this mystery.
He didn’t want to let Shar in on the secret just yet, though: he felt like this was more of a personal thing to him, some kind of test to prove his worth and potential to himself. After all, after the past summer, he was finally freed of Sharpay’s looming shadow, and he was finally his own person… though he still did stick around Sharpay a lot. Of course, he would eventually let his sister in on the secret; she was bound to find out on her own anyway.
But right now, he needed reassurance; he needed to know that he could rely on himself and be independent if he had to be. So that night, by the light of his favorite duck-lamp and aided with a slice of coffee cake, Ryan devised up an incomplete yet still progressing investigation. He planned on paying more close attention to anyone, not just the people in the Drama Club after a second thought, for any sorts of hints. He also needed to check out the handwritings of each person he had some kind of connection with.
Once an Evans was set on a task, they were too determined to back off of any sort of challenge. Now, that same statement applied to Ryan: he would find out the person behind this whole ingenious idea to distract Ryan Evans enough to steal away his limelight!
What Ryan failed to overlook was that this investigation, in itself, was a properly plotted distraction, but sadly, he didn’t take a notice to that small fact.
- Current Mood: tired
A Holiday Fan Fiction,
So It Begins - -
December 14, 2007:
Ryan smiled affectionately as his sister stormed off; he loved pissing her off sometimes. It was probably a twin’s thing. The school day had been going surprisingly well so far: he had gotten a B minus on his history exam, Ms. Darbus granted him the position of dance choreographer for the Winter Musicale (it wasn’t only fun for Ryan, but it also went onto his permanent record, which meant another great reason to be accepted into a top-class dance college), and during gym, he had randomly stumbled upon his beloved pink newsboy cap he’d misplaced after a class last week. He didn’t think it could get any better or any worse, but of course he was wrong.
He went to enter the combination for his locker when he felt a quick series of taps on his back. Ryan spun around to see whom it was asking for his attention, but he found no one. Frowning, he turned back to his locker, and was startled when he saw something that hadn’t been there before.
A small piece of paper was jammed into the grill of his white locker, and, when he took it out, it turned out to be a folded-up note of some kind. Quickly unwrapping it, he looked down at the rather messy penmanship:
Junior’s Calc Classroom
Three Fifteen Today
It was left unsigned, which made it even more suspicious. He furrowed his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything more, instead folding the note back up and shoving it into his pocket as he went to once again open his locker.
Throughout the rest of the day, Ryan tried to take his mind off of the peculiar note, failing horribly. He wound up drifting during his Chemistry class, causing Mr. Goldstein to yell at him for not paying attention to his very boring lesson on molecules and whatnot. He also forgot the names of three other major Renaissance artists during a pop quiz in English, and he had actually studied the Renaissance era, when he was eleven!
He frowned; whomever it was that sent him this note would be found at the wrong end of an Evans Fit.
As soon as the bell rang at three ten, students were running hastily out of the classroom, keen on exiting the oppressing building as soon as possible. Only some lingered, either because they had after-school clubs or detention to attend.
Ryan took his time with going to his locker, and told Sharpay to ride home by herself (he had his own car after all) after leaving their Mathematics class together. She raised a newly-weaved eyebrow at him but said no more, instead clapping her hands. Instantaneously, Lea appeared, smiling like some kind of brainless drone as Sharpay commanded her to go shopping with her.
After he had put his required books into his book bag, Ryan was off to Miss Barber’s class, where calculus was taught to juniors. He didn’t see anyone inside, but the door was left, suspiciously, unlocked. He slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door up. It creaked horribly from years of constant use, and Ryan had to cringe at the unpleasant noise.
There was something eye-catching on the front-center desk, and he cautiously walked over to it to see what it was.
Sitting innocently upon the desktop was a small clay thermos, patterned with small, cutesy holly berries. A string was wrapped around its large neck, and a small, folded note was attached to the string. Curious, Ryan gently fingered the square note open, his fingers brushing up against the strangely warm surface of the thermos. Inside, written in a festive, glittery red pen, in that same scrawled writing, was:
Hot cocoa for chilly, wintery nights
Confounded, Ryan gently urged the note, still connected to the string, off of the container. He set it off to the side and twisted open the thermos’s lid.
A barrage of sweet-smelling steam met him, and his eyes were blinded for a second. He inhaled in surprise, and his senses were flocked with something rich, something… chocolaty. He raised his eyebrows, and looked back at the note that came with the gift. Hot cocoa? Who would think to give him hot cocoa? It wasn’t like he, an Evans, couldn’t afford quality hot chocolate that wasn’t some kind of low, grade-A powder mix like Swiss Miss!
Still, Ryan had always been weak for hot chocolate, especially for the kind with mini marshmallows sprinkled in—he looked into the thermos and sure enough, small white specks were bobbing in the creamy brown ocean. He smiled gratefully, forgetting his uncertainty momentarily as he took a healthy sip of the beverage, sighing in delight as a warm feeling slowly crawled down his throat and settled comfortably in his stomach.
He took the thermos with him, making sure to tuck the note into his pocket with the note from earlier, and casually sipped it as he walked outside, to his car waiting for him in the parking lot.
- Current Mood: tired
Personal Drabble Challenge
Troy was just minding his own business, eating a bowl of corn flakes (drowned in sugar, of course) in the dim lighting of his and Chad’s shared apartment. He wasn’t sure what time it was… it was probably nearing three in the morning.
He had practice at seven today—being a part of the Red Hawks was a serious commitment—but he still couldn’t sleep tonight. It could’ve been because Chad had someone over.
It wasn’t that Troy didn’t want Chad to ‘get some’, but Troy only wished that Chad would go on sexual escapades when Troy was out with Gabriella or when he just wasn’t there!
Tonight’s catch was definitely a good one, if his best friend’s shouts were any indication. Troy grimaced into his cereal; thinking about what Chad…did wasn’t exactly table talk, even if it was between himself.
Chad’s bedroom door could be heard creaking open very slowly—Chad thought that Troy was asleep. Hah! That would be near impossible for anyone, even if that person were partially deaf. He decided to stay silent, though, so he could scare the shit out of Chad. Maybe that would make him feel like things were even between them.
“Holy—!” Chad cried, once he walked into the kitchen. He gasped, leaning up against the doorframe and holding a hand to his bare chest. Chad was only dressed in a pair of quickly thrown on boxers, and he looked like he’d been busy the entire night. Troy smirked evilly, while Chad just said, “Dude, don’t scare me like that.”
“Well I’m not the one who’s keeping their friend up at ungodly hours of the night.” Troy remarked innocently, eating another spoonful of his sugary three-am breakfast.
“What?” Chad asked, his face coloring slightly. He smiled sheepishly, running a few fingers through his tousled hair. “Oh dude, I’m sorry. You should’ve…” he trailed off, and Troy cackled.
“I should’ve what? Came into your room and told you two to keep it down?” Chad smirked and shook his head, walking over to their fridge. Troy was watching his friend’s movements with his eyes, slurping down the remainder of his food.
“What’re you getting? You’ve got someone waiting for you in there,” Troy teased. Chad rolled his eyes, taking out a few random jars and bottles.
“That’s why I came out here in the first place.” Troy could only find it in himself to raise his eyebrows in surprise at the chocolate syrup and can of whipped cream Chad was fingering.
“Wow, um… what’re you doing with that?” He asked curiously, getting up to put his dirtied dishes in the sink to clean up later. Chad shrugged with a smile.
“I don’t know. Ryan didn’t tell me what we were doing with them, he just told me to go get them.”
“Woah!” Troy said loudly, holding up a hand. “Ryan? As in, Ryan from East High Ryan?”
“Um, yes?” Chad asked slowly, looking like he regretted ever agreeing to get out of bed. Troy gasped, dramatically clenching his heart through his ragged t-shirt.
“Dude, there’s no way in hell that that Drama King is as good as he sounds!” Troy protested with a pound of his fist on the tabletop. Chad furrowed his eyebrows, and tilted his head slightly to the side.
“You guys kept me awake like, all night.” Troy muttered blandly. Chad frowned and blushed deeply before huffing.
“It’s not my fault you and Gabby don’t get as much as I happen to be getting.” He said haughtily, folding his arms across his chest and sticking his tongue out for good measure.
Just then, shuffling was heard. Troy froze, clenching onto the top of the chair he’ been sitting in before. Chad turned and looked around the corner. “If you don’t come back to bed right now, you’re not getting anything.” A tired yet teasing voice called. Chad’s face morphed into a soft smile.
“Sorry; get back into bed and I’ll be right there… I was just talking to Troy.”
Ryan, wrapped loosely in a bed sheet, slowly walked up beside Chad, giving a small wave. “Hey, Troy.”
“Erm… Hi, Ryan.” Was all he could mumble, feeling his own cheeks radiate with red-hot warmth. Ryan grinned impishly and Chad rolled his eyes with amusement. He snatched up the stuff on the table he’d gotten from the fridge and nudged Ryan gently with his elbow. “C’mon, I’ve got this… stuff.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Ryan said with faux annoyance. Just as he went to follow Chad, Troy piped up.
“Hey Ryan?” The addressed man turned around questioningly. “Just… make sure you take care of him, alright?”
Ryan smirked lightly and winked, “Oh, you don’t need to worry. I’ll definitely be taking care of him.”
Troy made a disgusted noise, shuddered and whined out, “Yuck, not like that, dude!” Ryan laughed out loud, wrapping the sheets around him tighter.
“But seriously though.” Troy said, once Ryan had finished chuckling. “Don’t hurt him.” Ryan grinned then, a grin similar to Chad’s loony, in-love smile.
“Of course I won’t.”
“Well, good night then. And would you to try and… keep it down?” Troy asked hesitantly, scuffing his sock-clad foot on the linoleum of the kitchen floor. Ryan snickered, all signs of seriousness gone from his face.
He only said deviously, “Oh, I make no promises.” And with that, with his nose held up high, he made his way back to his and Chad’s little love-nest of a room.
- Current Mood: tired
Personal Drabble Challenge
He never thought that he would stoop so low as to wishing that he were a girl, just to get one measly guy’s attention!
Of course, this guy wasn’t measly, and surely, being a girl couldn’t be all that bad. But still, Ryan Evans was a melodramatic thespian! He had birthrights to being so over-the-top that it wasn’t even funny!
He sat there, in front of one of the vanity mirrors present backstage in East High’s theater. Ryan stared hard at the feminine face that looked back at him. It almost looked like it was Sharpay that he was gazing at, except it was actually he himself, just wearing a bit of makeup and a skirt.
Once he had fallen victim of the sick thing people call love, Ryan had felt that it was a completely hopeless matter: to wish for something that couldn’t come true. Yet still, day-by-day, his heart did grow fonder for the sight of a huge mass of hair, chocolaty-tan skin, and a large, glowing smile. He felt himself become so desperate for any kind of interaction with that jock!
After he deduced that nothing would come out of his and Chad’s relationship other than a tentative friendship, Ryan degraded himself to a dance instructor, just to be close to Chad, to feel Chad’s hands on his own bony, narrow, awkward hips.
Chad had always babbled on and on about how hot this girl was, or how ‘banging’ one girl’s curves happened to be, and even how awesome it would be to have Miss so-and-so’s head right between the legs. Each rushed word about Katie, Denise, Sheri, or Samantha felt like a precise stab at his heart with a blunt dagger.
So here he was, envisioning himself as that little miss Jane who would be so honored as to get a position between the wonderfully sculpted legs of Chad Danforth.
Truth be told, Ryan now knew how weirdly amazing it felt to wear a typical schoolgirl’s outfit: complete with knee-high leggings and a short plaid skirt that came down to mid-thigh. Of course, his top felt kind of loose, because of the absence of a specific piece of female anatomy, but he ignored that small fact.
He felt like some kind of missile, ready to be fired at any given second at an unlucky enemy. He felt like he was doing something so wicked that the hands of none other than Chad Danforth should properly punish him. Perhaps, Ryan thought evilly, his horribly white ass deserved to be spanked?
“Ryan?” An astonished voice came from the doorway, just as Ryan had readjusted his matching plaid fedora upon his head. Ryan’s head snapped around to look at Chad, surprise clear on his features.
“Uh—um, Chad! Hi! I’m… kind of in the middle of rehearsing a part for… the drama club…?” Ryan came up with the lamest excuse possible, and both he and Chad knew it then!
Chad smirked, leaning against the doorway’s wooden frame. “Oh really now? The last I recall, there were auditions three weeks ago for one of Kelsi’s plays. And, tell me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you audition for a male role in that play?”
Ryan knew he was trapped in a corner… figuratively, of course. They were probably feet away from each other in the backstage area, but Ryan felt like Chad was inches in front of his face, close enough to feel Chad’s breath puffing onto his face.
“C’mere,” Chad suddenly ordered, using his index finger to draw the other nearer. Ryan, as if Chad were a light and he a mere moth, came closer and closer until he was right in front of Chad.
He swore Chad looked him up and down with appreciation. “Is this my lucky day or something?” He asked with a coy grin. Ryan didn’t respond, because he wasn’t sure if Chad was mocking him or not.
“Look… just…” Ryan trailed off, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. “Don’t tell anyone. Not even Sharpay! Please?”
“I’m afraid I’ll need more persuading than that, Evans.” Chad said resolutely, smiling in a sexy kind of way.
“Um… what?” Ryan asked slowly, looking totally confused and at loss for any words. He nervously played with the pleats of his incredibly short skirt.
Chad rolled his eyes in amusement and, with both of his hands, grabbed onto Ryan’s skirt. With a tug, Ryan was pressed up against Chad’s form. He squeaked out in surprise and looked up with wide eyes at Chad. (A/N: If you’re having slight difficulties imagining this, then just look to the scene in Hairspray, when Tracy’s singing ‘I Can Hear the Bells’ while watching Link tug on Amber’s dress to pull her closer to him… :P)
“What are you doing?” He asked incredulously, and, as some kind of response, Chad pressed their lips together, guiding Ryan’s face up to his with a finger underneath the other boy’s chin.
“You know,” Chad said as he removed his hands, and lips, from Ryan’s form, smirking easily, “I think you’re pretty hot as a girl.”
And with that, Chad gave a chaste, teasing little wave to a shell-shocked, skirt-wearing Ryan before waltzing out of the room.
“I have to wear Shar’s clothes more often…” Ryan muttered to himself once he’d caught his breath.
“Yeah, you do.” Chad laughed from where he’d been hiding around the corner. Ryan screeched slightly in surprise before huffing. He marched over—in his sister’s designer heels—and kicked Chad firmly in the calf before storming ‘angrily’ away, sashaying his hips with a little more zeal than the situation called for. Chad, shaking the slight pain off easily, whistled.
“Damn, I really need to ask him out on a date sometime…” He trailed off, and just as Ryan was about to turn a corner, he stopped in his tracks, and shouted, only loud enough for Chad to hear, “Yeah, you really do.”
- Current Mood: awake
- Current Music:1234-Feist
Personal Drabble Challenges
Chad was always overly confident of himself and his abilities, from sports to games to dancing (thanks to one blonde)—he didn’t bother with schoolwork because he couldn’t even kid himself into believing that one.
Everyone thought that the boy had delusions; sure, he was great at basketball and baseball, and Chad was pretty good when it came to a game of Shots, but he wasn’t that good! Well, everyone with the exception of one certain boy.
One certain boy saw Chad at his weakest, Chad when he was the most vulnerable, and hesitation and doubt evident in those chocolate-brown eyes. He saw Chad second-guessing himself, Chad questioning his abilities, and Chad wondering just how good of a catch he was.
Chad was never too sure where they stood, even if he had just told Chad that he loved him and would be with him for a long, long time—forever, even. Chad was always worried that he was thinking about abandoning Chad at the last moment, deeming Chad a lost cause because he lacked something another guy had in copious amounts.
Chad always asked the same thing, over and over again whenever they would up tangled in the sheets at the dead of night together. Between pants, after taking a well-earned deep breath, and when the night was going to the howling, sexually active dogs, he’d ask,
Sure, to anyone else, it came out as a roughened, bold and possessive statement. But to him, he could tell the difference. Chad seemed to be asking permission to violate him, to claim him in such a prevailing way that was only present in adult relationships. It wasn’t a growled exclamation, an egotistical bastard making his mark on what he considered his turf; it was a besotted fool, too much blinded by the far too intense rays of worship and love, asking if what he was about to take was rightfully taken. He wanted to know if he owned what he had, or if he was stealing from another.
He was asking for reassurance, for acceptance, for confidence in his stance in this relationship, and Ryan didn’t think a response could feel so rewarding, even when used thousands of times.
He would lift his head up from the pillow it was so carefully placed onto, and with a breathless, welcoming, come-hither smile, he would raggedly whisper,
- Current Mood: tired
Personal Drabble Challenge
If one more person came up to him to ramble on and on and on about Troy and Gabriella’s ‘astounding’ performance, he would seriously consider suicide. Or homicide; he just knew that because his stress level was just barely below the breaking point, any little compliment on Troy’s amateur performance, or about how adorable Gabriella was would just set him off.
Those stupid, stupid smiling faces seemed to grin teasingly at him, daring him to try and speak up against their willpowers. It was like, no matter how many times he fixed the broken glass, he would still be cursed for the full seven years.
They followed him in the hallways, even when those halls were completely empty. He could see stupid Troy and stupid Gabriella smiling breathlessly to the enthusiastic, applauding audience. Then, it morphed into a scene where the pair was staring menacingly at him, both wearing identical grins that looked more demented than warming.
He jumped and gave a small shout at the feel of his shoulder being suddenly prodded. His heart seemed to skid to a halt before jumping into a frenzied overdrive as he quickly turned around. He huffed, frowning. It was just Danforth. He removed his fedora from the top of his head, using it as a fan for his burning face. “Don’t do that!”
The darker teen grinned lopsidedly, taking a hold of Ryan’s hat and waving it teasingly in front of the blonde’s face. Ryan gave him a stale look that said ‘no, really?’ and moved to snatch his hat back. Chad, however, had completely different ideas, because he then shoved the fedora onto his head. Since his hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the hat managed to stay on somewhat neatly. Ryan dropped his hand with a grimace.
“Who pissed in your royal oats this morning, Prince-y?” Chad asked, leaning up against a wall. Unfortunately, he was leaning against a small poster for the latest musical as well, so when Ryan looked at Chad, he also saw the damned golden pair.
“Would you shut up?” Ryan snapped. Sure, Chad hadn’t said a word about Troy, Gabriella, or the musical, but he still didn’t prefer to be called names, thank-you-very-much. He felt so agitated just then, that he was surprisingly able to shove Chad, a more ominous and stronger form than his own, away from the wall and tear the flyer off of the wall with great fervor. Two of the four corners had ripped from the paper, still taped to the wall. He crushed the unlucky piece of paper in his hand, relishing the crackling noise it made as he applied pressure to its delicate body.
“Why is everyone trying to get me pissed off today? Stupid Troy and Gabriella—no offense, Chad—go and steal the damn show… I mean it’s not like they were the only people in the production!” He ranted, using his freshly manicured fingernails to get the last remnants of the flyer off of the school’s wall. “Oh, Troy’s so handsome! Gabriella’s a saint!” With each sentence, he squeezed as hard as he possibly could on the paper ball in his hand. He huffed with disgust and chucked the paper wad at a nearby garbage can, missing completely.
When Ryan finally looked back at Chad, the frizzy-haired jock was staring at him with an amused expression, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall. Ryan’s fedora was tilted forward on his head, partly shadowing the boy’s face. “Feel better now?” He asked with a loose smile. Ryan glared.
“No…” He walked over and hastily seized his hat, shoving it back onto his own head with renewed fervor. “Now I am.” He stuck his tongue out and gave Chad a patent Evans Glare. Sure, it was nothing like Sharpay’s, but it was still frigid!
Despite his scary death-stare, Chad laughed. At him! Ryan’s eyes were widened in disbelief at first, but then he narrowed them into dangerous, tiny slits. If looks could physically harm, Chad would be buried six feet down in the dirt, vertically so that his hair still showed above ground like some kind of weed!
“You’re too cute, Evans.” Was all he said, tousling the boy’s hat upon Ryan’s head before getting up and off of the wall, walking in the general direction of the gymnasium. He was dressed in his basketball uniform, so he was obviously in practice or something.
Ryan’s mouth was working like it was unbolted; did Chad Danforth call him…cute? “What the hell, Danforth? Is that some kind of joke? It wasn’t funny!” Ryan called out to Chad’s turned back. The boy stopped, as if frozen in his spot, before turning around to smile slightly at Ryan.
His feet had a mind of his own, bringing him up to Chad as Ryan clamored on and on at the darker-skinned basketball player. “Everyone has forgotten just how much work I’ve been putting into the theatre these past years, all because of the MVP and his new Einstinette of a girlfriend’s debut performance, which was quite distastefully done, might I add!”
He continued on, not knowing why he was blowing up, especially at Chad, of all people. “I mean, can you name one musical I’ve done while in the same school as you? One?” Just as Chad went to open his mouth, Ryan interceded him. “And the one you just saw does not count!”
Chad huffed, starting to get a bit annoyed. “Yes. I can, matter of fact.” He held up his hands, counting each play he stated off with a lift of one of his fingers. “Romeo and Juliet, The Taming of the Shrew, Hairspray, RENT, Phantom of the Opera,” At that mentioned musical, Chad shuddered convulsively. “And then there was Star-struck, the one that Ms. Darbus ‘ingeniously’ created.” He finished, using air-quotes on the word ‘ingeniously’. Ryan stared at Chad incredulously.
“But I never performed Romeo and Juliet at East High!” He argued. What, was Chad a psychic or something?
“No, but Zeke was telling us all about his first date with Sharpay,” He grimaced at the name of Ryan’s twin sister. “No offense.” He quickly added.
“But why’d you remember that? I mean, you don’t even remember the names of the fifty Presidents we’ve had!” Ryan said weakly. Chad gave him a deadpanned look.
“Ryan, there’re only forty-three presidents.” He muttered informatively. Ryan looked at him openmouthed, as if he were some mutated dog with a dozen maroon heads.
“Who are you?” He asked frantically. Chad grinned.
“I think I’m done for, after I do this.” Chad quickly bent his head forward, pulling Ryan quickly to him. He managed to ram Ryan—gently, of course—up against a wall and kiss the boy all at the same time without any horrifying consequences. After a moment, he removed his lips from an unresponsive Evans.
“Right… um… Ryan?” Ryan was busy staring into space, looking past Chad. Chad tried to grab his attention by waving a hand in front of Ryan’s face and snapping his fingers, to no avail. He sighed with pseudo-annoyance. “I guess I’ll just be going then. I’ve got a ball and a hoop waiting for me.”
Before he became conscious of it, Ryan had forced Chad back to him and kissed him hungrily.
“Hell yeah, you’re done for,” Ryan smirked. “You’re a wanted man now, Danforth.”
- Current Mood: crappy
Personal Drabble Challenge
Corbin couldn’t help himself, seriously. It wasn’t his fault that Lucas was so incredibly awesome at dancing!
How in the world did a man like Lucas get gifted with the talent to gyrate and rotate his hips like some kind of male Beyoncé? Well, Corbin wouldn’t really compare the lean, now dark-haired, fair-skinned and ocean-eyed sexual-fantasy-on-deliciously-formed-leg
After finishing High School Musical 2, Corbin had finally taken a notice to just how fascinating Lucas Grabeel could be when given a dance floor and a pumping, colorful beat to shimmy his hips along with.
He figured that doing the ‘I Don’t Dance’ number with the serious, dedicated actor might have had something to do with his sudden captivation. While the viewers of the second production thought nothing of the upbeat, jazz-ified dance number (with the exception of more than a handful of supposed… Chyan shippers, whatever those were) that was suggestive of something left unsaid, all Corbin could see, no matter how many times he’d slapped himself silly, was a burlesque dance that seemed like a small, hidden treasure only he should have the pleasure of unveiling.
He didn’t know why no one had slapped a ‘Viewer Discretion Advised’ bumper sticker on that fine ass of Lucas’, because that would’ve been wiser. Maybe then, Corbin wouldn’t have found himself in such a conundrum as he did at the moment.
Corbin was definitely sure of one thing, though: Lucas had him, hook, line and sinker, and the Missouri-bred male didn’t even know!
Oh, and dancing wasn’t the limit when it came to Lucas moving his hips around so sensually. Man, when he accidentally walked into the wrong studio (during a quick break) back when they were in the midst of producing HSM2, he’d seen a sight that would be imprinted in his mind for life. Lucas, doing yoga… who knew ‘Greeting the Sun’, or whatever Lucas had called it, could look so sexual? And Lucas was so flexible that it seemed almost impossible for him not to be made out of rubber.
When Kenny Ortega, as well as the other people that were the hypothetical brains behind the prequel-sequel child-magnets that were High School Musicals 1 and 2 came up with the scripts for the third and final movie in the trilogy, of course the entire original cast came. The main six of them, Zac, Vanessa, Corbin, Monique, Lucas, and Ashley, didn’t want to miss out on such a once in a lifetime experience if it was the death of them. They were a Hollywood family (through and through) after all.
So the March of oh-eight found the six of them, as well as Olesya, Chris, Ryne, Kaycee, and others, back in the familiar dance studios to go through dance rehearsals for the third movie. These dances were flashier, lengthier, fast-paced, and far more Byzantine than any dances anyone in the cast had ever learned in their Hollywood careers.
“Corbin? Corbin…” Lucas called out slowly, waving a hand in Corbin’s dazed face. Brow furrowing, Lucas turned away from Corbin.
“Zac!” Lucas shouted to the other brunette across the room, and Zac quickly looked up. “What’s up with him?” He pointed at the gone-looking, darker-skinned actor with a frown.
Zac smirked. Despite the occasional media buzz of him being as shallow and as half-baked as too many other famous celebs to name, he had a level head on his shoulders. Not to mention, he noticed the smallest details that other most perceptive people tended to look over.
The million-dollar question: did he notice Corbin’s sudden rapt attention with the one and only Lucas Grabeel? But of course! Zac thought that if it were anymore obvious, then Lucas would wind up piecing the puzzle together.
“I have no idea, Lucas.” Zac said chastely, shrugging his shoulders in a very believable fashion. Those acting lessons just kept paying themselves off time and time again!
“Hey, Kenny,” Zac called. The older man, hearing his name being called, wrapped up his conversation he’d been having with Chris before walking over to the ‘Goldenboy’ of the fictional East High. He whispered a few things in the director’s ear, gesturing with his hands a few times, and once he leaned back, Kenny was speechless, looking like he’d taken a bite too large of wisdom.
“This isn’t some prank of yours, is it Zac?” Mr. Ortega deadpanned, remembering the prank Zac had played on Corbin when they’d started out in High School Musical.
The peppy, zesty actor grinned devilishly. “It isn’t I swear!” He held out his hands in front of him in defense, and Kenny just raised a cynical brow. “Wait, wait… look!” Zac whispered to the director, tugging on one of his arms that were folded across his chest. He covertly signaled to Corbin, who had snapped out of his daydream and went back to talking to Lucas as they stretched and practiced musical numbers together.
It was apparent that Corbin was uncomfortable, because of how many times the poor teen laughed, and faint patches of rose were present on his dark cheeks that weren’t from physical exertion. He somehow managed to practice some of the dance Lucas looked completely oblivious of any change in his younger co-worker, grinning as he chatted about something or other.
Zac looked back at a thoughtful, obviously pondering Kenny, an ‘I-told-so’ look on his features. “Told you so.” He said smugly. Kenny smirked and playfully said, “Keep this smart aleck act going, and you’ll find yourself needing Lincoln’s.” Zac simply stuck his tongue out, not saying anything in response.
“Okay, I’ve got a plan,” Kenny said, rubbing his hands together like the secret evil mastermind that he was. “Follow my lead.”
The two of them walked casually up to the still-conversing pair. “Hey Corbin, Zac was just telling me about your request. And I have to say, you’re very creative and very daring, but the answer is yes!” He clapped his hands with practiced enthusiasm.
Corbin looked at Zac while his eyebrows rose so much that they disappeared in his impressive hair that fell against his forehead. “My request?” Zac covered a smirk with a friendly, lopsided grin.
“Yeah, man. You know. Your request.”
“Okay, since we’ve pretty much got the studio to ourselves for the moment, how about we do a little practicing, shall we?” Kenny positioned Corbin in the near-center of the room, Zac standing a little ways away and giving Corbin a full-on teasing, evil simper. Corbin, the poor thing that he was, looked like a deer in the headlights, disquieted and bewildered about what was going on. Why was Kenny positioning Lucas so closely to him like that? And what was he whispering in Lucas’ ear about?
Just as Kenny had finished swapping secrets with Lucas, the ‘brunette’ turned to Chad, his eyes slightly wider than before; there was no fear apparent in his gaze, though. There were only three emotions Corbin was able to decode: wonder, excitement, and nervousness. He knew there were two other ones present, but Corbin couldn’t put a name to them. They were strange and made him feel like warm water was being doused along his insides, though.
“Okay Lucas, you ready?” Kenny asked, switching on a demo of one of the songs they were using in the film.
“Wait!” Corbin said hurriedly, “What about me? I don’t know what to do!”
Kenny chuckled mysteriously, which only made Corbin feel like he was talking with Hannibal Lector over tea and crumpets, before signaling to Zac, walking over to the studio door. “Zac, would you mind coming with me for a second? I need to go over something with you…”
Zac, looking more like a grinning, dopey Golden Retriever than a human, loped over to Kenny’s side.
The tune pumping from the stereo acted as an underscore, building up dramatic effect that wasn’t necessary in Corbin’s case: there was plenty drama already! What was going on! He was incredibly desperate to shout out Ashton Kutcher’s name, to see if this was all some kind of well thought-out prank. There weren’t any hidden cameras he could see, at least.
“All you need to do is stand completely still…” Lucas instructed with a sly smile. Why did his voice sound deeper? It seemed to roll off of the man’s tongue like a musical ballad. “Okay?”
Corbin cleared his throat a few times. “O-okay.”
- Current Mood: blah
- Current Music:Marchin'- Corbin Bleu
Personal Drabble Challenge
Ryan had always kind of wondered how Chad got his hair to look so sexy. Sure, some people didn’t really think that Afros belonged in the twenty-first century…
‘CoughSharpaycough!’ Ryan thought with a grin to himself.
But Ryan adored how Chad looked. He once tried imagining the dark-skinned jock bald, and twenty minutes later, he wound up getting a thinking migraine. That, in turn, ruined his afternoon plans with Chad!
Ryan especially loved running his fingers through those soft, bouncy curls. It felt like the best goose down pillow that money could buy! One time, when Ryan had been invited to Chad’s house to watch a movie together, he’d fallen asleep with his head lying on top of Chad’s. How embarrassing! Chad thought it was funny, though, and teased poor Ryan about it whenever he could for the next week.
He wondered if Chad took hours getting his hair to look right, or if he just jumped out of the shower and his hair did its own thing with the help of some mousse.
One morning, after Chad had stayed the night, Ryan woke up to a hanging-upside-down Mr. Danforth. He blinked a few times, trying to decipher if this was a dream or not.
“Um, Chad? …What are you doing?” Ryan asked slowly, afraid that his boyfriend was going partially insane. Chad nearly fell off of his bed in surprise at hearing the blonde’s voice so unexpectedly, but grinned after the shock wore off.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He threw back, shaking out his damp hair as he continued to hand over the side of his bed. Ryan smirked and balanced his chin in a cupped palm.
“Well, you look like you’re trying to be very tall, very cute bat.” Chad stuck out his tongue, and a moment later, after no response, Ryan asked, “But seriously, what are you up to? Trying to see if you have any brains shaking around in there?”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Chad stated blandly, rolling his eyes. “I’m doing my hair, duh.”
“That’s how you do your hair? You just hang upside-down?” Ryan asked incredulously. He had to, after shampooing and conditioning with mild hair products, make sure to dry his hair off and apply the slightest bit of baby oil to it, otherwise, it would be a frizzy, tangled mess!
“That’s not all I do. In the shower, I have to take a comb to all the knots, and then, when I’m finally out of the shower, I hang upside down.” He said with a grin.
Ryan shook his head, laughing. “Wow. I have an interesting boyfriend, don’t I?”
“You’re telling me!” Chad chuckled in return, shaking some stray droplets purposefully in Ryan’s direction.
- Current Mood: drained
- Current Music:Goodnight and Goodbye- Jonas Brothers
Personal Drabble Challenge
Chad thought he’d seen enough absurd things in his life. Like Troy being in a Winter Musicale, or Zeke baking things Chad himself didn’t know how to pronounce (honestly, all of the food names you really needed to know were Chef Boyardee and Pepsi!). Chad had also found it completely illogical as to why Ryan Evans, the resident Drama King of East High, knew how to toss a baseball like a Little League pro. Didn’t he spend his free time getting facials or something?
Sure, he thought he’d seen practically all that could be classified as odd in the world. But that was until he really got to know Ryan Evans.
Ever since that day on the baseball diamond in Lava Springs, Ryan was a constant face for Chad. Though in the beginning it was mostly because of Troy’s infidelity, the person he’d often referred to as ‘The Ice Queen’s Lapdog’ had grown to be so much more than that. He had made one of the greatest, strongest friendships in his life, in the matter of a few weeks.
They hung out with each other almost every day, and Chad took this time to see what, exactly, was wrong with Ryan Evans. Why did Chad find it so easy to bond with the blonde? He had to have something wrong with him.
The first oddity he’d noticed about Ryan was that he broke into song at random intervals, causing many a head to turn. But Chad had crossed that out of his mental list almost as soon as it was placed there. Chad didn’t find it weird, per say, but it was only something that made Chad like Ryan even more.
Then there was the strange duck fetish Ryan had. Ryan had finally mustered up the courage to invite Chad over to the Evans Mansion, and Chad only saw an overload of everything… ducky when he stepped foot into Ryan’s bedroom. There were duck plushies, duck posters, duck figurines, and even duck bookends (of course, they weren’t really bookends, but more like… albumends. There were probably twenty-five one-inch photo albums of all of the productions Ryan had starred in.)! Strangely, though, Chad only smiled at the room and thought it was unique and very Ryan-esque.
Ryan was also a huge fan of cutesy, lovey-dovey movies. Why would any normal guy like watching some stupid romantic comedy? Chad did have to admit, though, that it was kind of sweet when Ryan was reduced to tears at the end of a chickflick. But only a little.
Oh, and Chad knew that whenever Ryan craved some kind of food, it was almost always chocolate ice cream. It was weird, because Ryan was almost as body image-obsessed as Sharpay. He constantly fretted that his tight jeans wouldn’t fit the next day, yet he couldn’t resist the calling of his precious gourmet ice cream. Chad managed to find the whole strange food obsession kind of… cute. He loved how Ryan’s eyes lit up whenever Chad brought him some cheap, store-brand chocolate ice cream, and how thankful Ryan was for Chad’s treat. Even though Ryan liking chocolate ice cream so much was kind of abnormal.
Finally, to top everything off, Ryan had an unhealthy mania for dancing. He was dancing practically all of the time! Whenever he wasn’t trying to get Chad into doing some Latin dancing (“I’d prefer not being called Cha-Cha Chad by Troy, thank you very much.”), Ryan was busy at work choreographing some of his own dances for musicals he was working on with Kelsi. Chad admitted that Ryan looked comely whenever he was absently bobbing his head or tapping his foot to music only he heard.
There couldn’t be anything more absurd than the dancing, singing, acting, baseball-playing enigma that was Ryan Evans.
Well, until Chad decided that he kind of liked Ryan Evans.
- Current Mood: artistic
- Current Music:Makes Me Wonder- Maroon5