Chad's POV

Watching your best friend get shot is something no person ever wants to see. And on the evening of that day, that is exactly what I witnessed.

At the time, I had no idea as to what I should do. I didn't even see him get shot. The second I hear the gun go off and come to sudden stop as it made contact with flesh, I closed my eyes.

I guess you could call me a coward. I certainly feel like one. I let him get shot – the only thing I did was catch him before he hit the ground. No-one else did anything for him, but I'm his brother. I'm supposed to make sure he doesn't get hurt; I'm supposed to make sure he doesn't have a near-death experience, no matter whether I was there or not. I should've have done something.

It's my fault, you know. I shouldn't have shouted at Sharpay – that way we would have been able to escape.

'Why are you going that way? The door's this way.' Sharpay hissed as I made my way away from danger.

'If you didn't notice, there are many gunshots coming from that direction.' I whispered back.

'Do you want to be stuck in here?' she murmured, exasperated.

'No, but I don't want to die!' I said, a little too loudly.

The gunshots grinded to a halt. We heard those all too familiar voices.

'Did you hear that?'

'Yeah. It sounded like Danforth.' Shit.

'Way to go, Chad.' Sharpay muttered sarcastically.

'It came from over there.'

'Let's go.'

Us Wildcats looked at each other. 'Run!' Troy whispered at us.

So we ran. We ran to that classroom – the one where he and Gabriella were shot. We just hid under the tables, praying they wouldn't notice us.

They came and they went – just as we thought. So Troy and Gabriella started to get out from under their table, still holding hands. There was no time for anyone to follow suit.

Daniel just whipped around and fired…just like that. My life changed forever when I heard that gunshot. So I turned; I was a coward and couldn't watch. By the time I looked back up again, Troy's and Gabriella's hands had been torn apart and both were falling. Zeke made the first move and went to catch Gabriella, who was closest to him. I followed and grabbed my best friend before he hit the ground.

I remember Daniel trying to fire again, but wasn't able to. 'Damn it!' So Jason ran over and quickly shut the door before any more bullets came.

'Gabi. Wake up. Gabi.' Troy was reaching out to Gabriella, who was already unconscious and bloody, so I tried to pulling him into a sitting position.

However, as I did this, more blood came out of his wound and Troy's head lolled and his body totally relaxed.

I immediately feared the worst. I could feel the hot tears staining my cheeks – at no point did I think "I'm a man – men don't cry" because that was all I wanted to do.

Tears are slipping down my cheeks now just thinking of the possibility of a life without Troy Bolton. My life without Troy Bolton.

I can't live without him. I know this sounds like I'm in love or something – but he's the only one I can talk to. It doesn't make sense to me, but I can tell him anything. If he were to die, my life would just implode back on me.

I remember not wanting to check his pulse because I was scared I'd find nothing. I remember Jason kneeling down and checking it himself and looking at me, silently telling me that he was still alive. I remember the door being shaken with the impact of one of the gunmen trying to knock it down. I remember the way the footsteps melted away into the distance, with one last gunshot shattering the glass in the door just for effective warning. I remember Kelsi making her way to the door and slowly peering over the side to check whether they'd gone or not.

Walking out of the room was the second worst part of that fateful day – the time where Jason gave his life to save Kelsi's.

As I search for how much I cared for Taylor and whether I'd do that for her, the tragedy's events flashed through my mind's eye. They were all so vivid – so real, like I was reliving it. I guess I deserved this – it's my fault Jason died, it's my fault Troy and Gabriella were shot, it's my fault Ryan was shot, it's my fault I can't understand what happened and why.

Troy stirs and I look up through the deflated mass called my afro. I haven't done anything with it in days. His eyes open and he stares at me sleepily. 'What's wrong?'

'Huh?'

'You're crying.' He states simply.

I touch my cheek softly, feeling the wetness on the skin. 'Oh. I didn't realise.'

Troy frowns at me. 'Seriously? Because it's not exactly unnoticeable.' There's a mirror on the wall so I go and check. Sure enough, the tears cascading down my cheeks weren't really discreet. 'What's wrong?'

I bite my lip. 'No, it's fine. Just reminiscing is all.'

'On…?' he pushes me to say something I don't want to.

'The…the shooting.' My voice sounds odd even to me as I say this.

Troy's eyes flit down for a split-second and then back up again to look at me. 'Oh.' That was his reaction. Oh.

'Oh?' My eyebrows rise slightly. 'Is that it? That's all you have to say?'

Troy shifts himself into a sitting position with his legs swinging over the edge, his weight held up by his arms on either side of him. 'What do you expect me to say?'

'I dunno – something…anything?'

'Well, I'm not really in the mood for talking about that at the moment.' Troy gets up slowly, the wires and tubes becoming detatched, and I walk forward to block his path. 'Get out my way, Chad.' Obviously talking about the shooting has sparked his anger.

'Why?'

'I have to go see Gabriella.' He says, trying to push past me.

'Troy, you're not allowed. Just go sit down and –' He cuts me off.

'No, Chad! I won't sit down – I want to see the girl I love!' The moment he says this, my thoughts swarm back to Taylor and how much I really did love her. Did I even love her at all? Like a sister, maybe? Yes, of course like a sister – I love all the girls like my sisters. But…is Taylor any different? Is she really my soulmate? Are we really meant to be?

I snap back to reality to see that Troy is staring at me still. 'Please, Chad, just let me see her.'

My protective instincts kick in again. 'No, Troy. I'm sorry but you have to lie down.' I can see already that he's out of breath, I can see the sweat beads standing out on his forehead. He tries to push past me again. 'No, Troy!' I push him softly but firmly to show him who's boss in this matter, and for more authority over him I hold the tops of his arms so that he can't escape as easily.

However, when Troy's angry, almost nothing can stop him. 'Chad, let go of me!' He grabs my arms in a similar way and practically throws me out of the way, even though it's blatantly obvious it kills him to do so, mentally and physically.

He grabs the door handle and angrily flings the door open and walks out, even though we both know he doesn't know where his girlfriend is.

Still, I run after him. 'Troy!'

As I turn out of the room, I can see my best friend grabbing onto one of the hospital trolleys to steady himself. 'Chad…' he whispers quietly.

'Troy!' I sprint over to him, my trainers squeaking on the tiled sterilised floor. I let him wrap his arm round my shoulder and I balance him carefully. 'Are you alright?'

'Chad…I can't breathe.'

Okay, so my best friend is officially near to collapsing in my arms. I'm no doctor, but that can't be a good sign.

Suddenly, Troy's arm slips from my shoulder and his knees cave in. 'Oh my God, Troy!' He hits the cold floor and I stoop down to help him. The heavy breathing is slowing and I'm ready to have a fit.

'Ch-Chad…' he coughs, blood once again trickling out his mouth – however this time, the blood is more steady and thick, not as it is usually.

I walk out of the building, feeling the tense atmosphere and hearing the cheering die down. I try to ignore the fact that one of my closest friends is dead and the closest is near to it, and the fact that I can feel the blood from Troy's wound sticking to my arms underneath his body.

I walk as fast as I can, not taking my eyes off of the teenage boy in my arms, the movement of his chest and the flickering of his eyelids fighting to stay open. Pushing through the crowds, I catch sight of Troy's mom and dad and rush over. I see the tears spill over in Lucille's eyes and how Coach Bolton's face crumples. Lucille runs a hand through her son's hair as I still hold him. 'Is he…?'

I can still feel him breathing, so I shake my head. 'He…he needs a…d-doctor…'

Troy's head lolls in my arms. I'm holding him as I was when he was shot. 'Help.' I say quietly. 'Oh my God…I need help! Someone help me please!' I stare down at Troy's unconscious body. 'Be right back, buddy.'

I run to the nurse station. There's one night nurse who I've come to know as Cheryl who's reading The Tenth Circle by Jodi Picoult, dipping into a box of chocolates next to her. 'Excuse me, I need help.' I say, my shaking hand banging against the desk.

She looks up. 'What's wrong, sweetie?'

'My…er…my best friend…he, um, he…collapsed, trying to go see Gabriella…' she frowns.

'He collapsed?' Obviously surprised by this, she marks her page with a sweet wrapper and places the book down, pushing the red EMERGENCY button on the inside of the desk. 'Where is he?'

'Just down here.' I run down the corridor – she's following close behind.

I kneel down beside Troy and check whether he's breathing. 'Oh thank God…' He was, but barely.

I could hear Cheryl running off – probably to get a doctor. At this moment, all I wish is for Troy would wake up.

Suddenly, Troy's doctor comes up and kneels down. He speaks a load of doctor nonsense that I don't understand and then everything just speeds up – more doctors come and take him away, and I'm left – they don't let me see him. They tell me to go and get something to eat but I can't, I can't – I have to see him, how can I eat at a time like this?

Then I realise that if I can't eat, there's only one thing I can do. I have to go see Gabriella.

Dun dun…

DUHHHHN.

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