My Life Would Suck Without You

A High School Musical fanfiction

by

GimmeABeat

Chapter 1: Fancy Meeting You Here

Time period: Approximately nine years after high school.

Setting: New York City.

Summary: They haven't seen each other since high school graduation, but a chance meeting between Troy and Sharpay at a bar on a hot summer night in NYC creates a pivot point which will change their lives forever.

FYI: Previously titled Pivot Point, but the new title suits it better, plus it's currently my favorite song and the video is hilarious.

Okay, that sounds all well and good, but it's basically a good old-fashioned baby fic with a lot of Gabriella bashing and lots of shopping (after all this is New York City). I think this one will be fun.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This fanfiction is based upon the Disney movie High School Musical. All characters and situations other than my own are sole property of Disney Corporation [Copyright©2006]. The title of this story is obviously taken from the song title of the same name by Kelly Clarkson and is owned by RCA Records [Copyright©2008].

Sharpay stormed into the dark bar, and then immediately shrank back when a blast of stale cigarette smoke and cheap beer hit her square in the face. However, Sharpay Evans wasn't one to back down. Steading herself for a fight and staving off the nauseating odors of the bar, she struck quite a figure standing in the dimness of the mid-town dive. Immediately, half a dozen interested heads turned her way, male and female alike. Her black Dior mini-dress with a discrete hot pink piping was a far cry from the overwhelming pink she preferred in high school. The dress perfectly accented her long, honey-blonde tresses. She loved the richness of this color and how it blended flawlessly with her bronzed skin. Richard, pronounced Reee-shard, her colorist, had outdone himself this month. She must remember to take Boi in next week for his highlights. The little Yorkie never liked to be upstaged. Her four-inch strap-on Gucci sandals brought her height up to a respectable 5' 7" which she desperately needed in the cut-throat and height-biased world of haute couture. When her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she spotted her quarry, teetering precariously on a stool at the bar.

"What, exactly, do you think you're doing here?", Sharpay blasted when she reached the bleary-eyed red head.

"Ooooo... hi, Sharpay. Watter you doin' here?", the woman slurred as wine sloshed from her glass. Her blood-shot eyes and smudged make-up made her look much older than her twenty-two years.

"Don't you hi, Sharpay, me, Gisele! You have a photoshoot at ten tomorrow...", then, pausing to look at her Cartier diamond-encrusted wristwatch, she corrected, "make that today at ten, Gisele, and redheads don't deal well with hangovers." She reached over and rubbed off a dark splotch of mascara from under Gisele's eye. "Oh nooo, you're going to look all splotchy", she tsked under her breath.

"Whaddya have ta drink, lady?", asked the burly bartender.

"Oh, I'm not drinking", Sharpay replied dismissively.

He insisted. "Even if you're the DD, youse still got ta buy a drink. Either that, or don't let da door hit ya on da way out."

"Alright already. I'll take a Cosmopolitan."

"Sweetie, Sex and the City's been in reruns for ten years now", the bartender commented dryly. "I'll make youse sum'un much better." Then, he wagged his unibow at her, but before Sharpay could let loose with a barrage of appropriate insults, she felt a small movement behind her and for the first time became aware of the male presence standing there.

A garbled voice hiccuped, "I think she looks pretty hot, *hic*. Don't ya, babe?" He was commenting, rather belatedly, due to his obvious drunkenness, to Sharpay's statement regarding Gisele's appearance.

"Oooo, Troysie", Gisele crooned dramatically while awkwardly managing to bat her wobbly and loose eyelashes at him. One of them was barely attached and the other was crooked.

Sharpay whirled around to confront the man, fully prepared to lambaste him with her biting tongue and severe wit. Unfortunately, when she completed her dramatic pivot, she fell dumbstruck, mute in his presence.

"Troy? Troy Bolton?", she finally managed to gasp and Sharpay Evans never gasped. "What are you doing here?"

It had been nine years since high school and with the exception of her brother, Ryan, Sharpay hadn't seen any of her fellow Wildcats since graduation day, which was quite a feat considering she attended U of A with quite a few of them. And that's just the way she liked it, with the notable exception of one, still exceptionally gorgeous, and currently, extremely wasted, Troy Bolton.

Before Troy could reply, the bartender plopped down Sharpay's drink on the bar. "Here ya goes, Sweetie. See if this doesn't curl youse toes?" Sharpay looked over and realized he was waiting for her to try the drink. In fact it looked like Troy was waiting for her taste test too, albeit through slightly bleary eyes. Reluctantly, she picked up the glass and took a healthy sip. Her brows lifted in appreciation.

"Wow, this is actually pretty good. What is it?"

The large, hairy man leaned in close to her, as if to share a confidence and said in a stage-whisper, "It's a Sloe Comfortable Screw. You look like you could use one, Sweetie." She automatically reached over and downed half of her drink while eying her old classmate. Damn, that hairy man had hit the nail right on the head.

"We're drownin' our sorrows. Isn't that right, Troysie-woysie?" Gisele's irritatingly squeaky voice cut through Sharpay's little Troy Bolton fantasy when she answered Sharpay's question from half-a-page earlier. These drunks had a horrible sense of timing. The model slipped off her stool and leaned heavily into Sharpay's back. Her long and lanky 5' 11' frame, (in flats --- Sharpay hated her), had slumped onto Sharpay with her head perched directly on top of the little blonde's. Stop that, you'll ruin Reee-shard's work.

Pushing back to try and buck the Amazon off, Sharpay hissed, "Look, Gisele! We don't have time for this. I'm taking you home right now before you blow my, ... I mean your, big chance. I'm your manager, remember? You're supposed to listen to me." Then, shaking the drowsy model by her bony shoulders, she added, "Elle doesn't spotlight just anybody."

Troy placed a surprisingly steady hand on Sharpay's shoulder and breathed into the shell of her ear. "Why don't you join us, Sharpay? We've only just started."

Something twisted low in her belly at the vibration of his voice on her skin and her legs instantly turned to jelly. She felt as wobbly as Gisele looked. The spell, however, was quickly broken, when the skinny bitch's voice drove itself directly into her happy place. "Yeah, Sharpay! Join us! We're celebrating!"

"I thought you said you were drowning your sorrows", hissed Sharpay as she finally managed to dislodge Gisele from her back. Troy gracefully caught her before she hit the ground and placed her back on the barstool.

"It's actually a little of both." Troy stopped there and seemed a bit hesitant to continue. "You see ... my divorce is final today and well...,", he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "Chad set me up with Gisele here ... to celebrate, you know?"

"Chad Danforth? From high school, Chad Danforth?" Troy nodded reluctantly, still embarrassed. "How on earth does Chad Danforth know Gisele Snow, one of the hottest new super-models on the circuit?"

"Oh, that's easy", supplied Gisele who seemed to be getting her second wind. "My Aunt Sally, and Chad's wife's mom went to school together. So when I moved here, to the Big Apple *hic*, she called her, who called her, who told him ..." She trailed off and then, looked up with a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes. "W-where was I?"

"Never mind.", Sharpay handed her back her wine glass with a indifferent wave of her $100 manicured hand and turned back to face Troy with a look of genuine sympathy, or it could just be the glimmer of an opportunity.

"So things didn't work out with you and Gabs?" She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"How did you know I married Gabriella?"

"Who didn't know about the nuptials of the great Troy Bolton? After all, it was the biggest wedding ESPN ever covered."

Actually, it had received front page coverage in the sports section of the New York Times. And coincidentally, it was the one and only time Sharpay ever read that section of the paper. That day she'd virtually memorized every detail of the article in an uncharacteristically masochistic angst fest. It wasn't all torture, however; she enjoyed the 30 minutes it took to deface Gabriella Bolton, née Montez's face, the photograph of her face, of course. Sharpay actually thought she looked much better with a mustache.

"So do you still play for ... that basketball team?" Okay, so maybe she didn't memorize every detail in that article --- only the important ones, like the fact that Gabriella had worn a prêt-à-porter wedding gown.

Troy wasn't so drunk that he couldn't smile at the memory that question brought up. "I see you're still closely following sports. And no, I don't play for ... that basketball team, anymore. I'm retired from professional sports." He stretched out his right knee with a groan. "Forced retirement", he added, pointing to his knee.

"Is that why you divorced? Couldn't support her in the manner to which she had become accustomed?", she hedged.

"Hell, no", he roared unexpectedly. "Gabby's a high priced Wall Street lawyer. She makes way more than me." Then, a cloud seemed to pass over his face and he slumped a little before continuing. "No, she divorced me for something far different."

Sharpay was nearly falling off her stool. This was better than a soap opera, so it should have come as no surprise when she heard herself say to the bartender, "Another Sloe Screw for me and another of whatever they're having", indicating to Troy and Gisele.

"Those are really good up against the wall", Troy commented nonchalantly.

"Excuse me?"

"I thinks he talkin' 'bout your Sloe Screw, Sweetie. That right, Buddy?" Troy nodded and the bartender continued, "I prefer them between the sheets, myself."

"Please stop with the sexual innuendos in the drink names, okay? It's starting to become disturbing. And could you leave, please? This is a private conversation", Sharpay pointedly told the bartender.

Vaguely, it registered to her that Gisele was now lying face down in a bowl of cocktail nuts, but since she didn't appear to be in any danger, Sharpay decided to concentrate on Troy. Propped on her elbow, she leaned in closer to Troy, hoping to get back on tract with his juicy story of an elicit affair with some cheerleader or something.

"So...." she urged once the noisy wait staffer had left.

Troy took a long draw on his beer before replying sadly, "Okay. She divorced me because I was ... impotent."

Sharpay's eyes grew wide and she blinked once, ... twice, ... three times, before responding with a squeak, "Impotent?" It had been the bane of her existence since moving to New York that all the really cute guys were all gay or taken, but impotent? That was a new one.

Troy rubbed a tired hand over his face and looked confused for a second. "Wait, wait... that's not right." He shook his head to clear out the drunken cobwebs. "Not impotent. Ummm, it's male factor infertility --- that's what she called it."

At Sharpay's confused look he leaned in close and whispered, "You know, I can shoot, but I can't score."

Oh God, sports analogies. If possible, her eyes grew even wider and she took a huge gulp of her drink. "And she divorced you for that? If anything, I'd think that would be a bonus. You know, not having to bother with condoms or chemical birth control." Sharpay, who never intended on reproducing, found this new information strangely appealing.

"Yeah, well, we wanted to start a family and when she found out I couldn't give her one, she divorced me."

By this time Sharpay was sporting enough of a buzz to feel very uninhibited.

"Sooo...", she said with just a hint of seductiveness in her voice, "how about we get out of here?"

Troy glanced over Sharpay's shoulder. "What about Gisele?"

"Damn, I forgot about her."

Therefore, ten minutes later, Sharpay and Troy were waiting on the street with Gisele propped up between them, waiting for a taxi. The fresh air had cleared Sharpay's head and she realized what she would do.

She would tell Troy good night. After all, it wouldn't do to start anything with him now --- she'd be nothing more than a rebound, anyway.

Then, she would take Gisele home, tuck her in bed and hope that she would be functional enough for that photoshoot later today.

Yep, that would be the prudent thing to do.

But then again... Sharpay Evans had never been accused of being prudent.

"Here's a fifty for the fare. Make sure she gets safely to her apartment", she told the cab driver as she handed him the money and Gisele's address before slamming the door on the passed-out almost super-model. Smiling innocently, she turned back to Troy who was swaying somewhat dangerously on his feet.

"You know, Troy... I live right around the corner. What say we go to my place?"

Yep, definitely not prudent.

TBC

Here's the newest one. Please R&R. Thanks.