Troy Bolton

## Season 4

**Troy Bolton** is the handsome basketball captain of the Wildcats, and is without a doubt the most well-respected and celebrated varsity star in New Mexico. One day of his Senior Year, Troy reports that his friend, Noah, has gone missing. As the search for his missing friend plays out over the ensuing days, guilty suspicions are fueled into a national frenzy by the media circus camped outside his house. Is this idyllic "golden boy" truly capable of murdering his friend?

Always one to feed his own curiosities -- encouraging the fact that he is always selfless and friendly -- Troy was capable of constructing that connection. Everybody in school was in awe of him; the attention swarmed around him, teachers were praising him every day but Troy took this as more of an incentive to push himself. If he ever did get into the line of work that he wanted to, he was going to push limits and break boundaries. Troy was everything any girl would want. If his appearance wasn’t enough, he was smart -- extremely smart actually but never liked showing it. He also loved people, loved being around people, and if Troy showed up to one of your parties, it was an immediate success. Everyone knew he was the most popular and friendliest guy in school. Even the seniors this year wanted to be his best friend.

For the first half of the season, it seems as if Troy has perhaps murdered his friend Noah -- he has disappeared under mysterious circumstances, and Troy admits through his narration to lying to the police, surreptitiously visiting with his friend, Brian, and secretly loathing Noah. Eventually, it becomes clear that while Troy is not the all-American “good guy” he pretends to be, he’s no murderer -- instead, he’s being framed by the psychotic Noah in an attempt to get revenge upon Troy for altering the course of his life, dragging him down, and then "abandoning" him for a more attractive boy. Troy’s low-level cruelty, apathy, and self-centeredness make him an unlikeable protagonist, as *constantly* portrayed by the media.

As Noah’s cunning manipulations escalate, Troy becomes a kind of puppet on a string, and must reckon with the deep-seated hate he harbors -- while also reckoning with the fact that his friend is, perhaps, even more monstrous and twisted than he is. Troy and Noah’s toxic friendship -- which neither of them seem to know how to leave, so desperate are they both to fulfill the impossibly perfect blueprint the early stages of their relationship seemed to foretell—anchors the season’s madcap, frenetic energy in a very real examination of what it means to be a partner.

## **Physical Appearance**

Mirror, mirror on the wall... it’s clear that Troy Bolton is the fairest one of them all. Move over Brad Pitt, Channing Tatum, Leonardo DiCaprio, there’s a new sexiest man alive. From top-to-bottom, Troy is a piece of art crafted by the hands of God himself, every inch being a thing of utmost perfection. In many respects, all peers and faculty might consider Troy to be a devastatingly handsome guy, despite perhaps being on the level of Hollywood actors; he has dark hair, brown or light brown depending on the lighting, which often looks soft to the touch and brings out the bottle green of his luminescent eyes. A five o'clock shadow darkens a masculine jawline and defines well-sculpted features, bringing out the best of a striking countenance. A crooked smile is sure to grace the young man’s face, ultimately reflecting the boyish, mirthful demeanor that Troy carries himself with.

Troy’s physique is lithe, lean, and flat-muscled, with broad shoulders and long legs. He has a very athletic body and the height to match. Weighing in around a 165-pounds of pure body muscle. He is described as being of average height, about 5'8". Hitting the gym every other day, along with playing basketball constantly, he has nicely defined muscles. However, throughout the episodes, his body is more defined and becomes more muscular as he develops. Troy seems to be obsessed with physical fitness and shape, even avoiding carbohydrates.

Troy doesn’t have any preferred type of clothing. Basically, he’ll wear anything that is in style or considered to be cool and the hottest fashion. He is mostly seen in the latest fashion of wearing a shirt that seems too small so when he stretches, a nice view of his abs are shown. Of course, the pants hang loosely around his waist, revealing the tops of either his boxers or briefs. So, naturally when it comes to picking out what this sports-star would wear on and off the court, Troy chooses slim-cut jeans, fitted tees, and old-school sneakers, and stick to a patriotic color palette of red, white and blue.

## **Personality and Traits**

Troy is the face of East High, and that is a lot to handle. Because he wants to carry his father’s legacy on not only in the school, but in life, Troy carries himself with the utmost leadership on the basketball court, and thrives when he knows the crowd is watching. On the court, Troy is the one yelling to pump up the crowd or another player. His most prominent characteristic is his sense of teamwork and ‘togetherness.’ He is the captain of The Wildcats because of his ability to bring people together and create group harmony, and for this he is considered the leader of the group in general. Troy is also a reliable leader and is well-respected amongst his peers because of this. When put in charge of anything, he tends to be rather professional and composed, even when hecklers and other inconveniences get in the way. Troy is gentle and always concern about each member’s integrity. This sweet characteristic allows Troy to take great care of other members and ensure that no-one is left behind. He is mostly a good sport, if he loses fair and square he’ll take that. He isn’t one to get upset over nothing. If there’s a bad call by the ref, or foul play, he will show his frustration. Mostly these moments pass on the court, because he can get his anger out by playing.

Troy is that classic good-guy, social butterfly, popular kid every upperclassman is friends with, every teacher respects, and every freshman aspires to be like. Most of the time, Troy carries himself with a great degree of brightness, perhaps influencing those he meets with an infectious smile, and his winsome demeanor can be attributed to his natural gravitation towards others. From his parents, Troy was taught to be friendly and polite to other people, especially those who clearly need a gesture of generosity from others. If someone is injured or in need, he will do his best to help them, even if doing so hurts his own personal needs. Besides, helping others and making people smile simply makes Troy feel good -- it’s like a little rush of dopamine for the young man. He’s the type to always remember people’s birthdays, and to leave little gifts for them, or to lend people money without expecting to get it back.

According to Noah’s diary entries that are filled with physical and mental abuse (all cunningly fabricated), and throughout flashbacks, Troy, at his worst, seemed to be as manipulative, as disloyal, as deceiving as he can be.

## **Role in Series**

### ***Pilot***

All of the boys E.H. basketball team walked into the locker room with their warm up jackets on and hoods on looking tired, depressed and mad as they sat down on the benches some opening their lockers for reasons unknown as Troy walked over to the medical kit to grab the tape so he could wrap his fingers as he leaned against his locker next to Chad with Jason and Zeke on his other side. Jack walked in and watched sadly as his son wrapped his fingers with the tape. Troy's head shot up sadly as his slammed his clipboard down on the empty bench and pointed out to the outside of the locker room and they all listened as he said, “Alright, no more X’s and O’s, okay. Forget the scoreboard. Because here’s a number that matters... sixteen. There’s sixteen minutes left in this game guys. There’s only sixteen minutes left in the *season*. And for the seniors on this squad...” Jack’s eyes then traveled to Troy, then to Zeke’s, then to Chad’s and then lastly to Jason’s. “Guys, you’ve only got sixteen minutes left in a Wildcats uniform. So make ’em count. Sixteen minutes, be a team.” Coach Bolton continued. And the team watched and heard as Jack turned the corner to walk back out of the locker room, “Captains.” The team all stood up, and threw their towels over their shoulders and looked at Chad and Troy. “Alright, hey, guys. Now you heard coach we’re all going to remember the next sixteen minutes for a long time after we leave East High, so it’s now or never. Chad?” Troy said, calmly. Chad nodded his head. “WHAT TEAM?!” he yelled his famous line. “WILDCATS!” they replied as they gathered their stuff and started to exit the locker room. “WHAT TEAM?!” Chad yelled. “WILDCATS!” the team clapped. “WHAT TEAM?!” Chad roared. “WILDCATS!” the team yelled out. “WILDCATS?!” Chad yelled. “GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME!” the team shouted at the top of their lungs.

    “Whoa, guys, hold up! Guys! GUYS!” Troy yelled as they reached the wildcat head at the end of the hall of their locker room. Turning to his team he asked something after realizing it. “Who washed their lucky socks? Our lucky socks that we’ve worn for three straight play-off games...” he hit his shoe. “Games that we *won*!” he added. “Mine never left my locker all season.” Chad replied. “Jason?” Troy asked. Jason shrugged. “I keep mine in my lunch bag.” he replied. “Zeke?” Troy asked. “I vacuum-pack mine.” Zeke replied. “There’s my team!” Troy proudly said, smiling. And with that, they ran out of their locker room and into the gym as their fans, friends, lovers, and family cheered them on. Everyone cheered as Chad and Troy received the balls being passed down the court to them from that managers as they started to dribbled down the court where their managers were to shoot at their new hoop. Chad and Troy shot their balls on each side, never once stopping, and everyone watched as the two behind them jumped up in mid-air and caught the ball to put it back through the hoop again, so the line just kept moving like that. As the referee's whistle blew, telling them to get ready for the last two quarters of the game, Jack yelled to them and motioned to them, “Huddle up! Huddle up!” As the cheerleaders for both teams cheered for their teams, the fans cheered also, as they all heard the East High yell, “Ready? Break!” The ball was given to Troy who dribbled up to half court and his defender and was able to lose his defender as he dribbled to the hoop even more and then passed it to his open teammate so he could quickly escape his defender as his teammate kept a tight grip on the ball, not about to let W.H. get it. “Score!” the team yelled as did the fans as Troy made the three-point shoot when Troy had the ball passed back to him. He glanced out the corner of his eye he watched as the point keepers raised their signs with a number 5 which told everyone that Troy was only 5 points away from getting his 2,000 points in his high school career. “Defense!” the cheerleaders for E.H. screamed. Chad was down at the one court, trying to get the ball from the W.H. player he was suppose to guard which was David Wright. Seeing, his opportunity Chad hit the ball out of David's hand and made sure it sailed down to Troy who was saying, “Gimme the ball, gimme the ball, gimme the ball!” Troy passed the ball to Zeke who was wide opened and Zeke stopped and shot the ball perfectly, getting a three point shot, with nothing but net. “Go! Go! Go!” Jack yelled to his team. “Come on, boys!” he added. “WILDCATS!” the E.H side cheered. After E.H. stole the ball back, they passed it to Troy who was at the three-point shot and everyone watched to see as another sign came up that wasn't a 5, but instead a number 2 telling him he needed one more point to reach his 2000. After W.H. passed the ball, in and E.H. stole it back, they passed it to Troy, who went in for a lay-up and everyone watched as the sign went down and a big sign that had the number 2000 on it meaning that he reached his 2000 points, but he couldn't know because his mind was on the game. “WILDCATS!” the E.H. fans screamed. “GO!” everyone in the gym yelled to their teams. And then everything stopped because as soon as Troy went to make a shot as he jumped in the air, Reed jumped in the air also and brutally pushed him to the ground, fouling him and the whole gym quieted as Troy slid across the floor, no-one knowing if he was okay or not. “Come on, that's a foul!” some people heard Chad's dad yell. “You okay?” Chad whispered worriedly to Troy as he helped a heavy breathing Troy up off the floor. “Come on, Troy!” Troy heard his dad say to him from his spot on the side of the court. After Jack said this, the E.H. fans all put their red and white signs over their heads, so that if you were looking down from the ceiling you could see that with all the white and red signs up, it had formed a red background with white Wildcat paw prints. As Troy stood up and moved to take his foul shot, he looked towards the stands and heard ‘Troy’ come from his girlfriend as she stood up and yelled his name in the quieted gym not caring, because as soon as they locked eyes everything faded away like it always did. The W.H. side watched as the signs then switched to a white background and with read lettering it read 'EH' with red wildcat paw prints. Troy went over to the foul line and sunk his shot with a perfect arc and swish and then the game was on again with intense heat and an intense adrenaline rush! As David went up to shot, Chad jumped up to block him, but got brutally shouldered by David's shoulder, causing Chad to fall and slide back across the floor and he stared at the ref before the ref blowed the whistle, calling for a foul shot, making him, his team, Jack, and the E.H. side cheer loudly as he went to the foul line. Chad shot his foul shot, making it with a perfect swish. Going back into the huddle with the coach and the team, Troy huffed. “I... I’m tripled teamed! I can’t get a shot off!” he said. “Try your best, captain!” Jack told his son. “I know. I know. Just get me the ball.” Troy told his teammates. “Alright. Okay.” Jack murmured.

    “Keep your eyes on me, guys.” Troy told his teammates. Breaking their huddle, they handed Troy the ball. Getting passed his three defenders, Troy made a break for the hoop and then jumping in the air, he shot the ball up, hitting the corner of the backboard and making the ball go straight through the hoop as all the East High fans cheered loudly. “YEAH! YEAAAAAAAHHHHH!!” Troy kept on chanting as he got put on his teammates shoulders. Troy was handed the championship trophy he held it high and kissed it. “Excuse us, but if everyone would please turn to the center of the court. Thank you.” Principal Matsui said. Everyone did as they were told except for the W.H. people, who were leaving sadly, as Jack started to speak into the microphone, “Tonight, we would like to give the boys M.V.P. trophy to my son, the captain. Senior, number 14, Troy Bolton!” Jack spoke into the microphone. Troy came up to his dad and accepted the award as he hugged his dad tightly. “And, we would like to award this the game ball to Mr. Bolton for scoring his 2,000 points during this game! Congrats, Mr. Bolton!” Principal Matsui said.

An intense ache throbbed in Troy’s head. He breathed in and tightened his shut eyelids, then turned onto his side in the soft bed and pressed his face harder into the pillow. High-pitched tweets from birds rang in his ears as he became aware of the breeze on his bare shoulder. Which was peculiar, since he couldn't recall opening the window before he went to bed; he couldn't recall anything from the night prior. Creases formed in his expression as he did his best to focus on each step he'd taken the night before. But nothing surfaced. So he decided to ignore the window: his dad probably opened it anyway. With another inhale, Troy shifted onto his other side and pulled the pillow over his head. As he did, a strong whiff of raspberries filled his nostrils. The sweet scent was enough to make him want to throw up. Then a tap echoed from somewhere in the room, as if someone put something down. It was followed by footsteps gradually getting closer. In that moment, Troy realized the material of the bedsheets were unfamiliar: too silky and new to be the ones he'd usually wake up to... His eyes shot open. He flung the pillow off his head, then sat up and his focus darted around the room he would swear he'd never seen before in his life. It was fairly big and almost too empty to feel lived in. The double bed he'd slept in was centred on the back wall -- the window that'd bothered him to his right. But in the middle of the room, stood his mother: staring like a deer-in-headlights. “Troy?” her smooth voice flooded his fantasy before the lids that covered the ceruleans eyes fluttered in a haze. At first he was blinded by the bright sunshine that stretched across the edges of the grey toned bedspread. His heavy lids blinked a couple times before he finally focused on his mother. Her slightly pale soft face held compassion in the dark grey eyes. “Sweetie... it’s almost seven.” she whispered gently. The woman gently leaned down to press her smooth lips against his clammy forehead. “It... it is?” Troy stumbled over his words just as he glanced at the high tech alarm clock that also played his iPod when he woke up each morning. She was right. The screen glowed a sea-colored blue, 6:54 A.M. School started in a little over an hour. “Come on, I have breakfast ready... French toast. Your favorite.” Lucille sung in her soothing voice with a warm smile that would fill up any room. “Thanks, mama. I’ll be down in a minute.” Troy promised before the woman gave him another comforting smile. “Don’t fall back asleep again, okay?” she laughed before stepping over the heaps of clothing that was piled in the center of the white room, his dirty laundry. Troy attempted at a smile before Lucille slowly closed the door. Letting out a sigh, he jumped out of his queen-sized bed and strode across the snow-colored carpet through the gigantic room to reach his black dresser. He smiled at the thought of his parents before he subconsciously reached for the glinting gold pendent on his neck. After taking a soothing shower to calm his nerves, Troy jumped down the last stair in a v-neck white-colored t-shirt and jeans that hung low enough to see his navy boxers to land gracefully on the wooded linoleum. He slowly jogged to the kitchen to see Jack reading the white newspaper. His careful fingers drummed against the table gently, before his caramel eyes glanced up, at the same time as his bright teeth glinting in the light. “Morning, Troy.” he greeted. “Hey, dad.” Troy smiled happily before taking two steps at a time to meet the inviting smell of French toast at the counter. He didn't even bother to grab a plate or the syrup and butter that were set out for his father. Troy was a picky eater, and it used to drive Lucille up the wall when he was younger. But he was just one of those people who only had cheese on his cheese burgers and just sausage on his pizza. He had a select taste. “Holy crap... it’s sunny.” Troy joked after a few moments of comfortable silence as Jack's deep laugh filled the room. “Yeah... it’s a shocker, isn’t it?” he flipped the newspaper over before standing slowly, towering over Troy by a good three inches. “I gotta head to the school... just make sure your skin doesn’t burn in the sunlight, alright?” Jack teased before pressing his tender lips to his wife's forehead, who was sitting at the table as well with a *Good Housekeeping* in front of her. “You make me sound nocturnal or something.” the eighteen-year-old mused before shoving the last bit of golden toast in his mouth before Lucille rolled her gray eyes. “If you don’t clean your room soon... you’ll get as much daylight as someone nocturnal.” Lucille said. Troy did his best not to scowl at her threat to ground him. So instead he smoothly gripped the backpack lying on the floor and slung it over his tough back. He gently leaned over the light wooded table to kiss his mother’s cheek before catching up with his father to walk out with him. “Yeah, yeah... I’ll clean it. See ya, mama!” Troy called out. He grabbed his school bag and headed for the front door. He grabbed his red and white varsity jacket. His shoes was the last thing to go on. “See you at school, dad!” Troy called out before he exited his house. He hopped into the driver’s seat of his 1962 Ford F-250 Flareside truck and backed out of the driveway.

There were red curtains hanging from two large windows, shedding light into the room. About twenty-five desks were facing the front of the room, which had a platform on it and a big navy-blue curtain behind it. There was a small clock sitting on top of the curtain that always seemed to tease Troy in his previous years here. It was the drama room, also known as, Darbus’ hell. This would be Troy’s third year with Miss Darbus as a homeroom teacher, and he was looking forward to anything but that. “Alright, everyone. Settle down! I know we’re all still excited about our Wildcats top-to-back championship!” the blonde-haired, hippie-dressed woman with bottle-bottom glasses exclaimed cheerfully. Troy’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at a folded-up piece of paper left on his desk. He opened up the paper, and blushed immediately. He caught Gabriella’s gaze and smirked at her expression. Troy watched his cute girlfriend giggle silently and turned his attention back to Miss Darbus. “That would be back-to-back, Miss D.” Chad corrected with a grin. Everyone in the classroom laughed lightly. “Whatever the case, it was a grand-slam. Well done!” Miss Darbus chimed. Troy gave a proud smile. “However, people, this is not recess, you know! And that... *noise* distracts those who prefer to see the world through silence. A silence that can often be found in the audiences of theatre performances! Ahh, which reminds me: practice for our fall musicale will start at free period today.” Miss Darbus smiled joyously at the class and handed out scripts to Troy. “You’re annoying me, Hoops. I will not have people thinking my *best* friend has issues sitting still.” Chad hissed obnoxiously as Troy shrugged his best friend’s rude comment off. “Stop it, man!” Troy snapped with fake venom seeping through his voice. His fingers were tapping against his desk controllably while the middle-aged woman attempted to hold the class’s attention in talking about some novel. His sapphire eyes were staring desperately at the clock on the wall, his feet pushing against the floor to restrain himself from jumping up.

    “ ...I have a few announcements to make!” Miss Darbus announced, holding up a clipboard and then lowered her eyes to Chad who was holding a basketball in his hand. “Mr. Danforth! I’ve asked you numerous times to put your football away! Hand it over.” Miss Darbus demanded firmly. Chad's face slightly dropped color. Chad *always* had a basketball at hand. It got him through the school day; Troy knew that since sophomore year. He laughed slightly at the thought of Chad going a whole day without one. “But, Miss Darbus, your honor, I--” Chad pleaded. “You know the rules, Mr. Danforth. Now you can have it after school.” Miss Darbus scoffed snidely. She placed her hands on the ball and Chad, although struggling a little, lets her have it and pouted in his seat. Troy saw Taylor turn around and kissed Chad's hand. He seemed to get a little color back into his face at this action, but not much. “Thank you. Now, as I was saying: a few announcements. First of all, those gifted students in the fall musicale, there is an extra long rehearsal tonight.” Miss Darbus said. A squeal erupted from Sharpay and everyone turned to look at her. She looked around and mouthed, *"what?"*  Troy rolled his eyes at this. “For those others who are involved in basketball...” Miss Darbus began. She looked from Troy to Chad and then returned back to her clipboard. Troy knew what was coming since he had to tell his dad so he could put it on the announcements. “...The pre-season practices begin today. Anyone who has any questions, feel free to contact our very own Mr. Troy Bolton.” she finished. Troy felt all eyes turn on him and he gave an awkward smile. “Anyways, I’ve also been told to tell you that tickets for the prom dance that occurs two weeks from this Saturday will be on sale all this next week and the following week.” Miss Darbus announced. Troy eyes jumped up to this. *Prom, just another thing that he had to worry about. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head, making him smile. He had to ask Gabriella some way that would really be special, and he thought of the perfect way.* Droning out Darbus’s voice, he thought of how he would set it up and how perfect it was going to be. *It had to be, because he only had one shot to ask her. He was even impressed with his idea.* Troy being one of Miss Darbus’s -- now teacher’s pet -- she didn’t say anything to him, but she did say something to Josh Cole, who walked in three seconds after he did. “Now that announcements and role is over with you may talk with each other, but NO CELLPHONES!” Miss Darbus told the class. “Hey, Troy, where’s Noah today?” Sharpay asked Troy as she sat on Zeke’s lap as he sat in his seat. “He told me last night that he was driving to school today.” Troy told them while they all could tell as his voiced was laced with worry. “I’m sure he’s fine. He probably just had to do something this morning. Like, a doctor’s appointment or something in those lines.” Gabriella told them all, especially Troy, as the bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom. “Probably.” Troy said, hopping that was it.

The lobby was full of people and it was only 9 a.m., a mix of students and teachers, he guessed. He walked over to the receptionist, a brunette woman in her thirties, her hair was pulled-back in a severe bun, her face held a serious expression. “Good morning. How may I help you?” she asked. “Good morning, ma’am. So, um, a friend of mine by the name of Noah Hashimoto did not come to school yet, and he’s never late. So I, uh, I -- I was wondering if you could possibly check-up on him for me? I’m a little worried.” Troy said, smiling nervously at the receptionist. “One moment.” She gave him the once over with a not exactly nice look on her face, a look full of judgment. She raised her eyebrow before turning to her computer and checking Noah Hashimoto’s name against the system. Troy kept the smile on his face even after the look he received. The receptionist turned back to Troy, the sour look still on her face. “You can go check-up on your friend, Mr. Bolton. You just got to take a pass with you. Is there anything else I can do for you?” the receptionist asked in a fake friendly manner. Troy shook his head. “No, thank you. That will be all. Thank you very much, ma’am.” he said politely. “Have a nice day.” the receptionist called out. Troy responded with a half-hearted smile and headed for the front office entrance doors.

Troy hoisted his backpack up to his shoulder. He paused for a moment in the school yard to take in his surroundings before seeing his beat-up, old truck. Hurriedly, Troy opened buckled his seatbelt and shut the door. As Troy neared the Hashimoto residence, conscious of the noise of the car engine, he could see the front door left ajar. This was strange. As Troy pulled in to the drive, Noah’s neighbor -- a lovely, sweet elderly Asian man and his wife -- came out of their home and stood on their own front steps. Troy could feel the old couple watching him as he got out of his beat-up truck. Troy walked towards the big house, seeing the front door left open. Troy frowned, standing on the middle step, then took the stairs quickly, two at a time. Confused as to why the door was open, Troy pushed it open a little further. “Umm, hello? Noah?” he called out wearily. Nervousness was evident in his voice. Troy slowly stepped through the threshold and shut the door carefully behind him. “Noah? Are you home?” Troy called out. He felt his heart beat faster with each extra second he was forced to wait for a response. After what seemed like eternity, Troy admitted to himself that no-one was home. Now the question was, where was he? He knew Noah wasn’t feeling ill. Maybe he was at a doctor’s appointment. Troy nodded, yeah he was probably at a doctor’s appointment. Pulling out his cell-phone, Troy dialed Noah’s number. “*Hi, you’ve reached Noah Hashimoto. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave me a message I’ll get back to you. Bye.*” the voicemail said. “Hi, Noah, it’s Troy. I’m just wondering where you are, buddy. You didn’t come to school today. The gang and I are very worried about you. Call me when you get this. Thanks. Bye.” Troy said. He shut his phone, squeezing it tightly in his hand as he exhaled. Now he was kind of freaked-out. The door had been unlocked, no-one was home and Noah’s phone was *off*. Noah never turned his phone off. He didn’t always pick it up, but he never turned it off. As Troy walked a little further into the home, he noticed it was in pristine condition. There was absolutely nothing visible in the bedrooms, and the dining-room was spotless as well. Now, the Hashimoto family were neat, *very* neat. Troy swerved into the living-room, and stopped dead in his tracks. The carpet glinted with shards of glass, the coffee table shattered. End tables were on their sides, books slid across the floor like a card trick. Even the heavy antique ottoman was belly-up, its four tiny feet in the air like something dead. Troy’s breathing hitched and his heart rate sped up. He stumbled backwards, unable to comprehend what the mysterious struggle meant. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he didn’t know what to do. His breathing became erratic as his blue eyes observed the scene over and over, trying to wrap his brain around the meaning. Shoving his phone into his pocket, he ran into the front bedroom, Noah’s parents’ bedroom. He looked through the bedroom frantically, trying to find something, anything, but there was absolutely nothing left, not even a textbook. Bolting back out of the the parents’ room, Troy soon found himself in Noah’s room, searching for any sign that the mess wasn’t right, that he hadn’t seen it correctly, but there was nothing Noah’s room either. Troy staggered back out of Noah’s room until he hit the wall opposite the doorway. He slid down the wall, placing his head between his knees. It was true. Noah had mysteriously vanished. He had disappeared without warning. He was gone. Troy felt his heart breaking. He loved Noah like a little brother. *What was he supposed to do now?* His head fell back, gently hitting the wall behind him. His heart ached, it hurt so badly. Troy was filled with so many different emotions that he wasn’t sure how to sort them all out. He was confused. He didn’t know why the front door was left wide open and the living-room was ransacked. He felt anger. He was hurt. His heart was breaking. He felt a harsh pain, far worse than any injury he’d ever received. An injury hurt for a few days, a few weeks at most, but this pain in his heart felt like it would never go away, like he could never be fixed. He felt despair. As the pain ran through his blood there was a sadness that went a long with it. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he may never see Noah Hashimoto again, *if* something horrible has happened to him. Never be able to hang out with Noah again, to hear Noah laugh, to see Noah smile. Those thoughts were what made him crumble. Troy’s whole body began to shake and his face twitched as he tried to hold himself together. The pain and despair was becoming too much, he needed a release. He felt hot tears roll down his face and tried to stop them from coming by closing his eyes tightly and letting his chin drop. It was then that Troy realized he wasn’t breathing. He’d been so consumed in his thoughts, he’d forgotten to breathe. He inhaled deeply, but when he exhaled his breath was shaking. He clamped his lips shut again, trying desperately to hold himself together. He opened his eyes again and looked up the ceiling. He couldn’t hold himself together any longer. He was breaking. “NOAH!” Troy bellowed his friend’s name. *How could he have been so happy this morning and now be sitting in Noah’s house with his heart-wrenching sobs filling the room?*

***(AUGUST 8, 2008):*** *Troy heard a loud voice coming from behind him. He immediately recognized it. Resounding so loud, it made heads turn. “That can’t be Troy Bolton, the Wildcat superstar and captain of the, if I may say so,* fabulous *championship team right in front of me, can it?” Chad announced loudly as he came up behind Troy.*

 *“Nope, just some cheap look-alike.” Troy joked, turning around. “Pay no attention to him. I’m just a distraction.” he said, aiming his words to the people who were currently listening in. “Well, you got that right! I mean, as far as Gabriella is concerned.” Chad replied, looking back at his best friend. He grinned, knowing that his comment would probably make Troy blush. Troy’s face had taken on an appearance that was slightly more red than before which he knew he was also embarrassed about. Suddenly, Zeke appeared next to the two. Troy stood looking over professionally with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the edge. “The three boys admired their M.V.P. trophy case. Sharpay approached the boys, popping her chest out flirtatiously. “Hey, Troy!” she exclaimed, causing Troy to turn around and look at her. “So, when's the big game?” she asked, delightfully. Her cell-phone rang, causing her to look down. “Uhm, yesterday.” Troy said, kind of confused. The blonde looked up, oblivious of what Troy had just told her. “Oh, well. Good luck. See you boys later! Toodles.” Sharpay said, blowing a kiss at Troy before sauntering down the hall. Troy caught the fake-blown kiss with his fist. Troy, Chad and Zeke all watched Sharpay as she walked away and then Troy saw Zeke dreaming. “She's so sweet!” Zeke exhaled and held his hand up to his chest in awe. Troy looked at Zeke and playfully slapped him across the cheek. Troy looked back at Sharpay, who was still sauntering her way down the hallway in all her fabulous glory, causing the remaining students to part ways. “Oh, sorry.” Zeke whispered, snapping back to reality. After Chad and Zeke decided to hang out at Troy's house, Troy calmly strolled through the corridor.*

 *The few, remaining students that were still left in the hallways, were still chatting and laughing with their friends. Time suddenly stopped as Troy saw a bulky football player, talking with an unfamiliar Asian boy further down the empty part of the hall. “Hey! There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Troy announced as the two boys turned to him. He looked at the Asian boy. This boy looked like the kind of guy parents would adore immediately: innocent and sweet with youthful, childlike features. Boyish good-looks. Charming. His chocolate brown eyes were mischievous, his lashes were long. “I was looking for you. When I didn’t see you at your locker, I thought I’d find you.” Troy let out a quick and easy grin. He casually crossed his arms across his chest. “Oh, hello, Jeffrey.” Troy finally said, facing the bulky jock. “Bolton. You know this kid?” Jeffrey said in forced courtesy. “Know?” Troy laughed easily. “I was going to wreck the school looking for him. Hey, buddy, I told you I was going to drive you home so you could get ready for the mall, and then I’d pick you up.” Troy looked down at the younger boy that was nearly a whole half a head shorter than him. The boy looked up at him with confused eyes, and Troy's grin widened, looking intently at him, his mouth twitched, urging the boy to play along. “Might attract some desperate characters... I assume your girlfriend was ready, thought you could drive her too, and my mom already has my outfit picked out so it’s not going to take long to change into.” the boy said. “I think she left already.” Troy said amusedly. “Now, let’s get you home before your parents gets worried. Well, see ya around, Jeff.” Troy smiled, the Asian boy offered his own smile. “Bye.” and the two of them left the football player alone in the halls. Once far enough from him and nearly out the door, the Asian boy turned to Troy. “You know, it’s dangerous to start up a conversation with Jeffery. Things could get ugly.” Troy laughed as he held out the door for the kid. “My knight-in-shining-armor.” the boy said, flirtatiously. “Well, I just* happened *to come by, and, hey, what was I supposed to do?” Troy asked innocently. The boys laugh as they approached the outside of Troy's homeroom. “Well, thanks anyway, and have a good time at the mall.” he said softly, looking up at him. Troy looked down at him. “So, what’s your type? I can’t see you sitting still while Jeffrey Adams and his friends talk about football, nightclubs and constantly flaunting their wealth in your face all day, every day.” he asked, and the smaller boy did a double take. Troy pointed his finger to Jeffrey, who was walking with his laughing buddies. “Uh-oh. Is that him? Ironic theatre nerd so self-aware he makes everything a joke?” Troy questioned, now pointing to Ryan, who was at his locker, too busy admiring his outfit, as well as Sharpay, who was admiring her... well, everything about herself. “I prefer guys who are funny, not ‘funny’.” the Asian said, and shifting his body and facing Troy. “Please don’t tell me it’s--” Troy said. “--What type are you? Lunkhead Basketball Boy?” the boy asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes. Troy let out a grunt, clutching his hands to his heart in a dramatic way. “Argh! My poor, poor heart. Why you gotta do me dirty like that?” Troy groaned, squeezing his eyes completely shut. He opened his bright blue eyes, blinking several times, only to see the other boy still smiling. “Well, you seem like too much of an amazing guy to be dismissed that easily. From what I can tell, you are not only adorable but a smart and charming little ball of mystery, all of which intrigues me in my book. And to answer your question, I’m basketball-fed, golden boy Albuquerque guy.” Troy said in all with innocent charm. “Here? Cute.” the boy said. “Ah, native New Yorker.” Troy guessed, squinting his eyes. “World ends at the Hudson.” the boy answered. “So before we get* too *much farther into this conversation like we’ve already have, what’s your name?” Troy asked casually. “Noah.” the Asian boy replied. “Well, Noah. Who are you?” Troy asked amusingly. He wanted to get to know more about this mysterious boy. “A. I am an award-winning scrimshander. B. I am a moderately influential warlord. C. I write personality quizzes for magazines.” Noah tested.*

 *“A. Your fingers are far too delicate for real scrimshaw work. B. I am a charter subscriber to* Middling Warlord Weekly *-- I’m sure I’d recognize you. So: C.” Troy concluded. “And you? Who are you?” Noah asked, poking Troy in the chest with his small finger. “I’m the guy to save you from all this awesomeness.” Troy said, smoothly. This makes Noah smile from ear-to-ear. “I’m Troy. Troy Bolton.” Troy said, but then looked down at his phone, seeing a text message from his father. He cringed. “Look, Noah, I had -- I had a fantastic time talking to you, but I’ve gotta go. I’m so sorry.” Troy laughed awkwardly. He reached his hand out for Noah’s phone and he played with it for a moment and then handed it back to the boy. “What’s your last name?” Troy asked. “Hashimoto.” Noah replied. “Well, Noah Hashimoto, I had a fantastic time talking to you. I’ll see you around.” Troy said. He winked before he stuffed his phone in his front pocket.*

***(PRESENT DAY):*** Tick... Tick... Tick... Tick... The same sound repeated over and over and over, it was a never-ending sound in the small empty room. It was a dark room, the only light came from the small lamp sitting on the desk in front of the young eighteen-year-old boy. Troy sat there alone for about an hour. His head was killing him, he hardly remember what was going on or where exactly he was. All he knew was that something happened and he was blamed. He stared down at his hands that were tied together by handcuffs when he heard murmuring coming from behind the gray steel door in front of him. His head quickly shot up when an older man in his mid-thirties walked in, closing the door quietly behind him with a tan folder in his hands. “Troy Bolton?” he asked, making sure he was with the correct person. Troy nodded slowly, eyeing the man up and down several times. He was wearing a black suit, his hair neatly combed back, and a Grande Complication watch wrapped around his right wrist. He watched the man slowly slip into the seat across from him. “I’m Ethan Woods, I work here.” the man answered. “And you’re the interrogator?” Troy asked, shaking his head. “That is correct.” the man replied. “With all due respect, sir, but you’re too nice to be an interrogator. Anyways, um, my friend, Noah Hashimoto, is missing. He didn’t come to school today. My friends and I are very worried. I went over to his house this morning to see if he was just running late, and, you know, his front door was left open. I thought that was really strange. So, I went inside, checked upstairs and then went back downstairs and then I saw that the glass coffee table in the living-room was upside down and shattered.” Troy stated. Ethan carefully placed the folder he was holding onto the desk between them, opening it up slowly as Troy watched him curiously. The dark-haired man pulled out a small photo out from the folder and carefully placed it in front of Troy. “I want you to look at this photo.” Ethan demanded softly. Troy shook his head as an answer while he stared down at the picture of the cherubic Asian boy. The photograph in front of him had been taken yesterday. Troy vividly remembered Noah’s long-sleeved brown shirt. In the shot, Noah was standing in front of his house office. His attention was directly at the camera, looking at Troy’s soul. His bangs hung down, framing his face and mopping over his forehead. Looking at his face, his features were too large to be called mature from his large brown eyes, to his little button nose, to his plush, pink lips. Troy couldn’t shake his initial feeling upon studying him. The boy in the photograph had a blank look on his face. Yet, the way he held his pose showed that he was also authoritative. “He’s just a kid...” Troy stopped himself from going anymore further. “I won’t judge you. Mr. Hashimoto’s father told me about you. You’re his very close friend.” Ethan chuckled. “I -- I’m confused, have you contacted Noah’s parents yet? Are they in the waiting-room? Do you know who could’ve done this to him?” Troy asked, his voice laced with genuine concern for his friend’s well-being. Ethan sighed, taking the photo back, slipping it into the folder. “No, Troy. So, Noah Hashimoto was reported missing this morning. By you, correct?” he concluded softly. “Y -- Yes. When I didn’t see Noah at school, I thought that maybe he was either sleeping in late or he was sick or he had a doctor’s appointment. And I decided to go over to his house, you know, to see if he was even there. But as soon as I got out of my truck, I noticed that his front door was gaped wide open. Thought that was very weird, you know? I thought he probably somehow forgot to close the front door and lock it; maybe he realized he was late for school, and left in a hurry? So, I -- I went inside and called-out his name but there was no answer. Just dead silence. I checked all over the house, but Noah was nowhere. Then, I went into the living-room and discovered that the glass coffee table was overturned. Glass shards covered the carpet. An ottoman was upside down. And, I -- I -- think he was kidnapped!” Troy said, his voice shaking. “Mm. Have you talked to Noah or seen him prior to his disappearance? Like, did he ever hang-out with you or your friends? Maybe you can tell me something about that?” Ethan asked. Troy’s eyes filled with tears of frustration and worry. “Yes. He was... with my friends and I yesterday. He wore that shirt. We just hung out, you know, talking and laughing.” he choked out. The eighteen-year-old shook his head repeatedly. “I -- I was with him yesterday. Having a good time. We were talking about college and life in general. He can’t be missing... He can’t be.” Troy said. “Do you know how long Noah and his parents lived here?” the interrogator questioned. “Um, two years. September. They moved here from New York City.” Troy answered. “The glass coffee table in his living-room was tipped over and completely shattered. There was blood splatter in the kitchen as well. The forensics team also did a luminol sweep. They’re still running tests in the lab.” Ethan reported calmly. Before Troy could respond, the gray steel door in front of him swung open, revealing a man brandishing a packet of wrapped Q-tips and his G.S.R. kit. “Troy, this is Steve Eckert. He’s going to take a swab of your cheek and a hand swipe if that’s okay.” Ethan said. “This is for?” Troy questioned nervously. “Gunshot residue, DNA. Just so we can say we did. Okay?” Ethan asked. “Okay.” Troy complied, still a little nervous. Steve was in and made no eye-contact. “And now it’s done. Crossed off the list.” Ethan mumbled. Steve left. Troy watched his samples going out the door. “Now, normally, we wouldn’t treat this as a missing persons case so quick. We’d tell you to call back in 24 hours. But given the scene in the house and given our spike in violent crime of late, we’re going to take this very, very seriously.” Ethan concluded confidently. “Okay. Good.” Troy said softly, with a nod of approval. “So: We got forensics over at Noah's place. We’re tracking his phone, credit cards. We’ll organize searches, put up flyers. We’ll hold a press conference tomorrow.” Ethan said. “A press conference?!” Troy asked, his eyes wide in shock. “Want to get the word out, right?” Ethan asked. An officer came in with two styrofoam cups of coffee, slapped a manila envelope on the table. Troy smiled. Ethan frowned. “Sorry. I felt like I was in a *Law and Order* episode for a second. Bum--” Troy muttered the theme-song but quickly stopped. “You’re not, unfortunately.” Ethan said. He stared at Troy, aggressively pondering. “Now, time is of the essence in these cases. That said, if you want to call a lawyer...” Ethan said, trailing off. “No, no, whatever you need.” Troy answered. “Okay, so, Noah has been here two years. No siblings?” Ethan asked. “No siblings.” Troy said. “So what does he do, most days? Young high-schooler, besides doing homework and studying for tests, and what not, what does he do?” Ethan asked. “He stays busy.” Troy said, simply. “Doing what?” pressed a calm Ethan. Troy attempted a mental inventory. He failed. “He’s a big reader.” Troy responded lamely. “Days can get long. I know a few high-school students, that go to house parties coming at the middle of the night. Or prescription pills. Marijuana. Why, just last week: high-schooler, nice young boy, got his teeth kicked in over some Oxycontin. We can’t keep up with the drug problem.” Ethan rambled. “I’m sure that’s not it.” Troy concluded politely. “Noah got friends we can talk to?” Ethan asked. “Not really. No.” Troy answered truthfully, staring at the steel table in front of him. “No friends. In this whole town.” Ethan said. “He was friendly with my parents...” Troy said. “So you got to school around 7:08 a.m. today. Where were you before then? Just to cross that off.” Ethan asked. “Well, I was at home until 7 or so. Then I was downstairs. Had my breakfast, then went straight out the door to my truck.” Troy confirmed. He picked off pieces of his styrofoam cup; it squeaked. “So your friend has no friends here. Is he kinda... stand-offish? ...Rubs people the wrong way?” Ethan asked. Troy was visibly uncomfortable. He squeaked at the styrofoam. “Well, he’s complicated. He has... very high expectations.” Troy said with a big sigh. Ethan put his hand on Troy’s to get him to stop the squeaking. “Type A. That can drive you crazy if you’re not like that. You seem laid-back. Type B.” Ethan concluded. The steel door opened again as two men walked inside. One dressed in a cop uniform, the other wore a crisp, navy blue suit jacket and a silky white buttoned-up shirt with a and navy blue suit pants. “Geez, what are you doing to the poor boy?” the Asian man exclaimed as he rushed over to Troy’s side. “Get him out of these handcuffs!” he barked. The officer looked at Ethan, waiting for permission when Ethan nodded. The officer walked over to Troy’s side and unlocked the cuffs. Troy rubbed his wrists and looked up at the Asian man besides him. “I’ve never been so happy to see you, sir.” Troy said, trying his best to lighten the distressing mood. “Are you alright, kiddo?” the man asked, helping Troy up from the chair. “I -- I think so... I’m just so confused right now. They’re telling me Noah’s missing... It’s not true, is it?” Troy asked. Noah’s father looked down. “I’m afraid so, kid.” Mr. Hashimoto said sadly. Troy stood there in shock until Mr. Hashimoto took his hand and lead him out the dark room. Troy squinted his eyes as they walked out, the brightness bothering his eyes. Mr. Hashimoto lead him to the waiting area where Noah’s mother, Gabriella, his friends, and his parents, waited. Lucille quickly rushed to her feet as Troy and Mr. Hashimoto approached them. “Oh, honey!” Lucille exclaimed, letting out a sigh of relief as she pulled Troy into a hug. Troy wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her chest. “I was so worried about you; they didn’t hurt you or anything in there, did they?” Lucille asked frantically. “No, mama, it was a short conversation.” Troy told her, pulling away from the hug. By now, Chad and the rest of his friends were standing. Troy looked at Noah’s mother, her face stained with tears as well. They both gazed into each others eyes for a few moments until she threw herself into Troy’s arms and began crying again. Troy fought back his own tears and tried to remain strong, until he felt a few tears down his face and he held the mother close. “We were at a book launch party yesterday, Troy! I just can’t get over it.” she sobbed. “Mrs. Hashimoto, I am so sorry. We’ll do everything to find Noah.” Troy said, assuringly. He looked up over at Mr. Hashimoto. The man nodded. “I already got a search crew; they’re making commercials, giving out reports on the News. We’re doing everything we can to find him and we *will* find him. I’m not giving up -- we’re not giving up. We are all worried. We are all scared. But we are all here now, and we will find Noah. Together.” Mr. Hashimoto stated boldly. The parents buried their faces into Troy’s chest as Troy leaned his cheek on the mother’s head, watching as an officer posting a picture of a cheerful, smiling Noah up on the waiting-room bulletin board and in big red, bold letters over the picture, 'MISSING' was written. Underneath the picture, all of Noah’s information.

An officer leads the Hashimotos and Troy into a room of a half-dozen bored local reporters. Texting, eating, gabbing. As they catch sight of the handsome Troy, they put down their sandwiches. A giant 'MISSING' poster of Noah is revealed. An *Amazing Noah* book jacket is revealed. Everyone is extremely attentive. “Thank you for coming. My friend, Noah Hashimoto, went missing from his home on July 5th between 9 a.m. and 11:30 a.m. under very concerning circumstances. Uh, we ask for anyone who may have knowledge of what has happened to him to please come forward.” Troy muttered rather softly. He awkwardly steps aside and stands right next to the 'MISSING' poster. Mr. Hashimoto steps in and clears his throat. “Noah is our only child. He’s smart and handsome and kind. He really is Amazing Noah. I know there are tons of people out there who grew up with him and care about him. We care about him, we love him and we want him back.” he stated, trying to hold his composure and hide the worry in his voice. “Noah is a sophomore at East High School. He forged a successful path in becoming a journalist, due to the love of writing. We returned here to my husband’s hometown, and Noah made a life in his adopted home. Now Noah needs your help. We are setting up a volunteer headquarters at the Hotel Chaco. We have a hotline, 1-871-4-NOAH-TIPS and our website is *FindAmazingNoah.com*.” Mrs. Hashimoto said. Troy and the Hashimotos pause for a few photos. The Hashimotos look devastated; Troy looks annoyed. A photographer asks Troy to pose next to Noah’s photo: a demented prom shot. Troy looks more annoyed. He glances at the reporters. “Smile!” a photographer called out, jokingly. Troy flashes a sudden, smarmy smile, overly charming and oily. The cameras click crazily. He drops it.

**REST IS TBA**

### ***Now Or Never***

“Hey, Troy!” Noah greeted. “Hi, Noah.” answered Troy. Troy and Noah had never really been friends. They had talked only a few times before but they acknowledged each other’s presence and usually smiled to each other when they crossed paths. Troy didn’t have the will to try and make conversation, try to get to know Noah better, because it wouldn’t lead anywhere. Obviously, Noah had a fat crush on him. And he knew that. “I’ll tell you this: I have something tomorrow afternoon so I won’t be able to hang out you in the afternoon. Would it be okay with you to meet me at my house at, say, seven, tomorrow?” asked Troy as they walked through the empty school. They opened the doors and got out, walking down the steps. “Sure, I’ll be there.” Noah agreed. “And there’s more.” Troy said, almost looking like he was being provocative, with a teasing tone to his voice. Noah just kept looking and Troy went on. “To every right answer you get tomorrow, I’ll give you a prize. That oughta make things interesting. Don’t you think?” Troy questioned with a wink. “Definitely.” said Noah. They said good-bye and parted ways.

Troy was in his room typing away at his computer looking for anything that could help him find Noah when someone walked in behind him. "Mom, I just ate the pizza you brought me and the mini bag of chips. I'm full. I don't want any more food; also I don't care how nice it is outside. I'm not taking a break to play basketball not now, not ever!" Troy said. "I'm not your mother." Chad voice said. "What do you want?" Troy asked, not even looking up at him. "I'm here because we're all worried about you, man. Your denial has turned into unhealthy obsession. Look, I get it, okay, you want to find Noah, but there comes a time when you need to face the truth." Chad said carefully. Troy turned in his chair. "Is that what you think this is, denial? You really believe I'm so depressed that I'm not mentally strong enough to admit he's gone? I'll tell you what, when we find his body, I'll admit he's gone, but until then I'm not giving up!" he rebuked. "And what if his body is never found? Are you going to spend the rest of your life searching for him?" Chad asked. "Yeah, I am! If you've got a problem with that, then get out!" Troy yelled. "Troy, I just want to help yo..." Troy cut him off. "Just get out, Chad, get out, unless you're going to help me or support me, get out! I will not surround myself with this negative talk. I'm going to find Noah, alright?" He turned back to his computer and continued to type away. Chad sighed. "Troy, the police have done all they can, they've looked everywhere. They can't find anything. If they can't find him, even with their years of experience, how do you think you're going to find him?" he asked. Troy ignored him and continued to focus on his search on the computer. Chad sighed once more and got up and left. When Troy heard the door close he stopped and looked at the picture on his desk of him and Noah. "I'm going to find you, Noah, I promise. I won't stop until I do." he muttered to himself.

**REST IS TBA**

### ***Just Wanna Be With You***

***(OCTOBER 2, 2008):*** *Troy couldn't contain his excitement and anxiousness as the sun began to slowly settle on the horizon. Tonight, he would be seeing her; everything was going to turn out alright. Troy had never felt so happy in such a long time and he had finally found something which was more powerful than all the hate he'd been taught to live by. He was in love with Gabriella Montez, and has been for three years. Troy sighed, stretching his muscular arm out, reaching for the ceiling, releasing its tension, before pulling a towel off the rack and rubbing his hands dry. Looking at the reflection of himself in the mirror, he couldn't help himself. He stopped as he met his eyes in the mirror and he shook his head. He looked at himself in the mirror; his blue eyes scanning him from top-to-bottom.*

     *He opened the water tap and cupped some water between his hands, splashing it on his face a couple of times, afterwards. He dried his face with a towel and then combed his hair with his fingers, pushing it backwards and letting it settle in its messy and natural way. Troy sighed once more and he looked at his friend. "You are out with the gang so much." Noah said just above a whisper. Troy rolled his eyes playfully as he looked the other direction. "Of course, man. They're my friends." Troy muttered, not intending on letting Noah hear him. Noah ran a hand through his hair and he sighed quietly to himself. "Well, then, can I come?" Noah asked with childlike curiosity in his voice. Troy looked back at Noah and he shrugged his shoulders, having very little interest in the subject of Noah attending. "Oh, man, I'm sorry, Noah. You would hate it. I just want you to be safe. Ya know?" Troy said, trying to communicate with his obviously-dejected friend. Troy loudly grunted as he rolled his eyes. He then gave Noah a long, sympathetic stare. "Look, why don't you can go on home? It's getting late. I gotta run!" Troy called out, sympathy in his voice. Noah angrily groaned to himself. "Hey. I've been thinking... Maybe you could get your parents to drive me somewhere? Like, to the mall?" Noah asked innocently in return. Troy's warm stare became annoyed as he stared at Noah. "We could've have had this fight a few hours ago; I'm late. By the way, now, is literally the worst time. It's late, Noah. My parents are at dinner, enjoying themselves. They want some alone-time. You'll be fine, okay?" Troy harshly stated, not meaning his tone to come out the way it did. "I didn't know it was going to be a fight." Noah accused, hurt laced in his voice. Both boys began walking out of the locker-room and out into the empty hallway. Troy turned around, stared at him as he noticed the tone Noah had in his voice. It sounded like Noah was suspicious of him for something he did. Frustrated, Troy groaned loudly and he slammed his fist against the cold plaster of thewall. "Goddamn it, Noah, I am not arguing with you right now!" Troy hissed, realizing the wording of his sentence came out wrong when he saw Noah's eyes moisten, but no tears came out. "Oh, so you're just gonna walk out right now?" Noah half-raised his usually calm voice as his face began to turn red. His words cut Troy deep; Troy didn't want to hear something as awful and untrue as that from Noah. He couldn't let Noah think like that. It hurt him; but he didn't tone his anger down.*

     *His anger only grew to an outrageous and high level. "Yes, I am walking out right now. And you really want a stupid, little argument save our friendship?" Troy hissed through his teeth, finding it a strain to not resort to extreme verbal-fighting. Noah rolled his eyes as he walked further down the stairs, close enough to Troy. "Save?" Noah muttered, just loud enough so Troy could hear. Troy* *stood in* *front of* *Noah. He didn't want to argue; he really didn't. But he couldn't bottle these unsaid emotions anymore; he had to let them out. "You're a fucking coward. It can't go on like this -- what kind of friend are you? You think you can just not acknowledge me any more? I won't." Noah began to angrily raise his voice. "You won't? You* won't*? Why, it's not good enough for you?" Troy asked. "It's not even close!" Noah yelled, pushing the palms of his hands against Troy's chest. Troy stopped him when he snapped. Before Noah could rebuke again, he found himself flat on the floor. Clutching his cheek, Noah looked up at him in fear. As Troy looked at Noah, it seemed as though he was about to cry. He never meant to hurt Noah, especially not physically. It may have just been one slap, but it was enough to shatter his own world and make him feel like a monster. Hitting another human-being in any situation, especially someone he cared and loved for, was* never *acceptable in his opinion, but why did he just do it? Why did he just throw everything he stood for out in a moment of weakness? Only Noah had the power to make him that mad. Crouching down next to Noah, Troy scooped him up in his arms where he stayed momentarily. Troy buried his head in his hands and started crying. He never cried in front of Noah before. "Noah, I'm so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you." he cried, once he started calming down.*