“ | We’re all in this together. | ” |
Troy Bolton is the leader of The Wildcats; the most popular and cutest boy at East High. He is the only child of Jack and Lucille Bolton, and the fiancé of Gabriella Montez. Troy must choose between two colleges: his father's alma mater -- University of Albuquerque -- where he will play basketball and be the manly-man his father expects him to be; or New York's prestigious performing arts school, Julliard, where he will be able to revel in the fabulousness of singing and dancing to his heart's content.
Troy has been paid more attention to, because of his newfound beauty. He is the one who everyone likes and gets along with. The one that girls are madly in love with and would die to have. The one who guys envied like mad and wanted to hate him terribly -- but they couldn't -- he was just too likable. From his irresistible 'Bolton' charm, his contagious laugh, and smart yet childlike wit. Everything about Troy was enchanting. His spirit is just as beautiful as his outside physical appearance. He is a very diligent boy. He works hard in school and is never one to give up. He cares a lot about everyone, even the ones who picked on him. Troy has a huge heart and loves his family and his little group of friends that he did have.
The school considers Troy their king and the most popular guy, but he doesn't think he deserves the recognition he gets, and he is always looking out for others. He never tolerates any type of bullying and always calls bullies out on it when he knows it is happening, even if the entire student body is watching. He wouldn't change his life for anything; his values mean a lot to him, and the school as a whole made him popular. It's just that over the past years he had gotten the reputation of being the basketball guy -- the jock -- the one everyone respects and adores. Troy is tired of being that guy but there is nothing he could do about it; everyone expects him to be a certain way and it's too late to do anything to change it. He is the type of popular jock who respects and talks to everyone, making others around him feel better about themselves. He loves to enjoy life, spend time with his family when he had the time away from school, and enjoys spending time with sick children at hospitals and playing basketball.
Overall, his diligence is Troy's greatest virtue, enabling him to learn new skills quickly simply because he won't give up until he masters them. He manages to teach himself how to be a better role-model for others. Even though Troy is the most popular and the cutest boy in school, he's also the nicest and kindest guy you'll ever meet. He is the boldest and the most outspoken of the characters, often not afraid to say what he really thinks of a person. Troy is the envy of the student body, with guys wanting to be him, and girls wanting to be with him. There may have even been boys who wanted to be with him as well, who have found him attractive.
In Season 2, Troy has been working at Seattle Grace Hospital for just a few years. He and Gabriella moved to Seattle, Washington after pursuing their dreams of becoming doctors. They jumped at the chance to move to Washington to get away from the devastating demise of their friend.
Physical Appearance[]
Troy has high cheekbones, a straight classical nose, full cupid bow lips. His eyes are wide and almond-shaped -- the most stunning facial feature -- which are ocean blue-colored. His hair commonly has lighter blonde streaks and darker brown streaks that are naturally inlaid throughout his head. His skin is golden with a tan complexion.
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".
Troy isn't a big stickler for fashion, but he does like keeping up with the latest trends. So naturally when it came 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. He carries himself with the utmost leadership on the basketball court, and thrives when he knows the crowd is watching. On the court, he's 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.
One of the things that he loves the most is including other people into his life and antics. It isn't fun if you're all alone, and thus, he never lets anyone miss out on anything if he can help it. Whenever it comes to pranks, he'll include his entire team to invite or be invited to pull off stunts. Troy always asks someone if they'd like to come with him out on the trails, eat with him, or just keep each other company. There is no 'being left out' in his vocabulary. He's all about teamwork and groups. His inclusiveness spans across more than just his team as well, of course. Another point to him is that he is ridiculously encouraging. Troy practically cheers everybody on, even if they're his competitors. However, don't be fooled -- when it comes to his team, he'll be screaming the loudest. It's just something that comes with his inclusive nature -- he'll encourage shy people, excited people, bold people, all people -- if they'll let him. It doesn't matter what they might be doing either, whether it be a small personal accomplishment or a huge group achievement, he's gonna be there cheering from the sidelines.
Troy may be an athlete and a basketball player but he's very much a nice guy who's incredibly good-hearted and noble. Off the court, Troy is a laid-back, friendly person -- the angel of East High -- who shows great personal warmth and makes others feel valued and cared for. He might not be friends with everyone, but he's definitely friendly to everyone, and that makes all the difference to him. Troy is a very sensitive and an empathetic person. He is the person that is the easiest to talk to, and he listens to everyone's concerns the most. He is so caring and genuinely wants others to be happy. Honestly he just wants to make others happy, seeing anyone hurt would really upset him. Troy would not want to upset anyone, and would feel awful if he did. Troy is the sort of person who believes the best of people and that things will work out. This proves to be something of a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it means he is more easily manipulated by others. On the other hand, it also makes him a genuinely nice person, and able to see the hidden good side of others. Troy's main interest in life is giving love, support, and good time to other people. He is focused on understanding, supporting, and encouraging others. He makes things happen for people, and gives his best personal satisfaction from this. He is very approachable and places high importance on enduring relationships. Troy impresses most people with his warmth, empathy and understanding approach. People tend to seek Troy out to share their problems because they perceive him to be a good listener. He is also one of the most compassionate people to ever exist. Yes, it makes it hard for him to harm anyone or anything even if it is for the better good because his empathy is so strong, but this is a trait that is often appreciated more then the fact that he is so persuasive. Troy always pushes the people around him to do better and be better. He never settles and therefore doesn't want his friends to settle either. He accepts prominent roles that profoundly impact the lives of those under his care. Troy has a large heart, and although he tends to keep his emotions under control -- and even under wraps -- a majority of the time, he is capable of expressing his true feelings in a genuine, powerful light. He is filled to the brim with love and affection, sweet to nearly everyone he comes across. This proves his kindness and pleasant aura that makes him a beloved figure.
Troy sees the good in everyone; believes everyone can be a good person if they just try. He knows everyone can be beautiful on the inside. He knows everyone has a good heart, he knows everyone has kindness buried in their soul somewhere.
Troy is generally a nice, sweet guy but if you cross him or hurt anyone that he cares about, he won't hesitate to call your ass out. Particularly, threatening his family, particularly the love of his life, Gabriella, abruptly alters his demeanor from usually calm and collected into threatening rage. However, Troy is genuinely concerned with only using his fighting skills in self-defense because he's afraid that if he gets seriously violent, he'll enjoy it.
Throughout the second season, the tensions Troy goes through cause him to slowly start to break down emotionally and mentally. It starts to reach its peak at the beginning of Season 2 when his friend is unexpectedly murdered by a killer. This event leaves Troy traumatized and suffering from P.T.S.D., and his attempts to fix matters lead to him drinking alcohol. Charlie's death weighs heavily on him, to the point he hallucinates his former friend beckoning Troy to join him in death. Troy tries to recover with help from therapy and his friends and begins to take medication, which slowly begins to improve his confidence and mental-health. He also begins taking steps to fully redeem himself for past wrongs. Though he eventually attempts to commit suicide, he decides not to once he realizes that it was his cannibal arch-nemesis who was responsible for his pain and guilt. Troy finds new purpose when he joins a support group and ally and eventually tells friends and family about his suicidal thoughts.
Role in Series[]
Pilot[]
Coach Bolton eyed his team and saw the stress of the upcoming game, the championship game that would decide it all for the Wildcats this year, was heavy upon each and every guy's shoulders. He cleared his throat. "Each and every one of you in this locker room knows what today's game means. I have watched as you all have played your hearts out on that court out there, on our home turf, as well as how you have played in other high school gymnasiums this year. You have shown real teamwork this year and a determination to be the best. Today, you go up against one of the best teams in this league, in this state even, but let's not forget the power and raw talent you all have in this team, harnessed by your team's spirit. Whatever happened two minutes ago, whatever your plans are, win or lose, for after the game, I want you to forget about it. Focus on this game, focus on this moment, and that winning spirit I have seen in this year's East High Varsity basketball team will prevail, without a doubt. Go out there, play your best, and remember to have some fun! If there's one thing about this year's team that makes it stand out to me is the amount of fun and friendship you have all shared this year. Go out with a bang! Now, let's do this!" Coach Bolton yelled. The guys all grinned back at their coach. "WHAT TEAM?" Chad hollered. "WILDCATS!" the team shouted. "WHAT TEAM?" Chad screamed. "WILDCATS!" the team shouted. "WHAT TEAM?" Chad hollered. "WILDCATS!" the team screamed. "WILDCATS, GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME!!" the team screamed at the top of their lungs. Troy Bolton shot a look at the timer and saw there were thirty-three seconds left on the clock, enough for West to tie it up for overtime or enough time for East to create a nice cushion for a victory win. Troy caught the pass from Jason, dribbled it down and was about to shoot when he felt himself get knocked down. He looked up at the offender and groaned as he saw a player sneered down at him. Chad and Zeke rushed over to Troy's side and helped him up as a ref blew his whistle to indicate the foul and to give Troy his free shots. "Are you alright, man?" asked a concerned Chad, seeing Troy rub his right arm. "Did you land on it?" he questioned. "Either that or it was the push I got on it from West's dear captain." muttered Troy, eyeing the rival captain with a distinct dislike in his eyes. Brushing it aside, Troy stepped up to the line and made all three shots, helping give East a much needed cushion to continue playing the game with a little more air to breath until the final buzzer went off, declaring East High the new New Mexico State Champions. "Shoot it, Troy!" Coach Bolton screamed in fury as the orange sphere connected to his fingertips released and soared in the air. It collided with the matching rim, before it bounced off and landed in the hands of the opposing team dressed in green. "COME ON, BOLTON! GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME!" Coach Bolton shouted. They were down by four points, with two minutes left in the game. "W-I-L-D, WILDCATS!" the cheerleaders, who had led the entire East High student body to the away game, screamed as the crowd went wild in delight. The Wildcats had just as many students in the stands at the home team did, though that was not surprise to Troy. School spirit at East High was more than any other in New Mexico. Well, West High came close to, but not as much as the Wildcats. "Focus, Bolton." Troy instructed himself forcefully while the opposing team in the lime green jersey's took the ball down past center court. Troy's long arms attempted to block the other point guard from shooting, but the taller of the two took it and the ball went into the net with a swish. They were now down by seven. "Time out, ref!" Coach Bolton requested angrily as the sharp whistle blew. Beads of sweat dribbled down Troy's tan face as each teammate nervously stole glances from each other. Guilt was sinking in Troy's moist skin as he realized half the reason they were down was because of him. The team huddled together around the metal chairs as a teammate let his hard eyes stare down the captain. "Are you sick or something, Troy?" Coach Bolton asked. Troy's eyes shut in pain as he shook his heavy head. "No, coach." he replied. "Then pick up the pace you're playing, or I'm pulling you." Coach Bolton threatened forcefully, even though both he and Troy knew that on Troy's bad days, he could still run circles around their back up point guard, along with the rest of the team. "I got it, all right?" Troy responded determinedly. A swell of adrenaline at the action rushed through his blood stream as he nodded to no one and placed his hungry fist in with the rest of the team. "WILDCATS!" Troy and the team yelled. "Let's go!" Chad shouted pumping up the visitor's section. Cheers erupted from the crowd as Troy's body was now backing into over drive. He could do this. Two minutes left. The ref blew the whistle again to restart the game as Chad forcefully passed Troy the orange sphere. He took it down the court, being abruptly stopped for a second by the opposing defender, before Troy faked right and took it left, risking it all by taking a three point shot, and somehow managing to get it into the net. Only four more points to go. Reluctantly, West High's team stood in line to shake East High's team's hands before the Wildcat varsity basketball team was swept up by a crowd of excited East High student body as well as family and staff. The rest of his teammates were leaping up and down in joy, while continuing to scurry into position. The obnoxious sound of the buzzer rung through the gym as the entire student's section stampeded down the bleachers before Troy had comprehended the game was over. He suddenly couldn't contain his joy as he throw his arms up in the air, adrenaline still wiring through his veins, shouting at the top of his lungs. As quickly as that happened, a million and one hands seemed to be grabbing the bottom of his legs. Troy's eyes popped out of his head in surprise for a moment, before realizing they were lifting him up in the air. "BOLTON! BOLTON!" the crowd roared. He leaned back and absorbed all the praise, shouting in victory again before the school decked out in red gently set him back on the hardwood. "Nice game, man!" a boy said. Troy felt a pat on the back as he turned around to see Chad standing there, grinning like he just won the lottery. Still feeling all hands wanting to touch him as though he was a god, he pulled Chad into a guy hug. "Yeah. You didn't suck, either." Troy said. He smirked while Chad smacked him on the back of his head. Troy laughed while all of the sudden, the black eyes glanced to the side with a smile that broke out onto his face. Troy turned away and felt all air violently ripped from his body. If everyone placing their hands on him wasn't enough to make him feel hot, it was the sight that was before him. "Congrats, cutie. You were amazing!" a cheerleader purred. “Oh. Thank you, Tiffany!” Troy said. His eyes had then moved over to see Chad talking to an African-American girl with short, black hair. Troy's father then wrapped his arm around his shoulder, congratulating him. When the large trophy was passed to Troy, he raised that above his head. The screams of excitement increased as East High celebrated. Making his way through the swarm of people was harder than it appeared. Every person he came across was cheering and congratulating him. Troy came across a small girl with short, bouncy hair with glasses, was gingerly trying to get through the crowd. “Troy! Congratulations! You did a fantastic job!” Kelsi exclaimed. She threw her arms around him. “Thanks, Kels!” Troy gushed. Kelsi smiled. “Listen, have you seen Gabriella? I can't find her.” he said. Kelsi shook her head. “Last I saw her she was with Taylor in the stands. She probably had the right idea staying back there for a bit. It's impossible to get through here.” Kelsi remarked. “You know it's okay to push, right?” Troy chuckled. “Yeah, but sometimes I can't. I mean, I'm half the height of some of these people.” Kelsi reminded him. Troy smiled. “If you duck you might able to go under their arms.” he suggested. Kelsi grinned. “I'll try.” she answered sheepishly. “Good luck. Hey, I'll see you at the after-party.” Troy called out. The jock continued past the remaining people until he came to the edge of the bleachers. He furrowed his eyebrows. He jumped up onto the bleachers so he could get a bird's eye view of the mob of people surrounding the trophy. Scanning it quickly, he couldn't see Gabriella anywhere even though he was able to pick out everyone else in their gang. Frowning, he looked around the rest of the gym. Quickly, Troy scrambled down from the bleachers and ran out of the gymnasium. He looked around frantically, praying that each brunette he laid eyes on would be Gabriella, but none of them were. "Gabriella!" he exclaimed. Someone threw their arms around Troy, who breathed a sigh of relief as he hugged them tightly. He spun around to face the person, revealing to be Gabriella. "Congratulations, Wildcat! You were amazing! I was so nervous for you, but you were fantastic! I knew you would be able to do it! And when James Fletcher knocked you over that time I thought I was going to faint! Oh, my goodness, I still don't know how you did it. I mean you had the entire pressure of the game on you and you managed to shoot those free-throws effortlessly!" Gabriella rambled excitedly. Troy smiled lovingly, cupping Gabriella's cheek with his hand and gazing into her eyes. "You were the one person I wanted to see after the game and I couldn't find you. I was worried." Troy confessed. Gabriella smiled softly. "I'm sorry about that. I think some boy ate something bad, he was complaining his stomach hurt and he said he felt like he was going to throw up just after the game finished." Gabriella explained. Troy chuckled. Leaving his teammates behind, he made his way to the showers, quickly losing the last of his clothes as he stepped under the spray. 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. He pulled on a tight white t-shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans over a clean pair of Calvin Klein's. With one spray of cologne he made his way towards his gym locker. Leaving the somewhat ribald comments of his team behind him -- and doing his best to ignore them -- Troy headed for his truck. Fortunately, none of his teammates seemed inclined to follow him and the discussion behind him could be heard to change to their win as the locker room door shut him on the outside. Inhaling a breath of fresh air, he made his way to the double doors. He flung them open and walked out to the parking lot. "See ya on Monday, Bolton!" Zeke's voice rang out through the locker-room as Troy turned around to hold up his hand in a small wave. The rest of the winning team also screamed yells of good-bye, but his ears had tuned them out. He wasn't focused on the cream-colored walls of the boy's locker-room right now. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to slam his lips up against Gabriella's soft and desirable ones, but how he couldn't because he had to protect her from himself. He swung the light-brown door that led to the gym that only had half the lights on, for they had no reason to waste energy. The thin air that traveled across it suddenly grew thicker as his twinkling eyes landed on the small figure who was staring at the adjacent wall. He couldn't tell her that he couldn't be with her or do anything with her. Just by the way her slender body moved in perfection made Troy want to fall to the ground at her feet. But he had to be strong, for her. Slowly, his white shoes took several steps towards her, the air becoming heavy with each one. He was wearing his white warm-up sweats, which also came with a white zip-up sweatshirt with the famous East High wildcat on the hood and a red t-shirt underneath. The scarlet gym bag that hung loosely on his shoulder somehow became heavier when he noticed how short Gabriella's white dress really was, and how desperate he was to run his hand up her thigh. "Best game of my life." Troy stated after swallowing his nerves so he could actually speak. "I remember that. It shot your ego through the roof even more if that was even possible." Gabriella replied. Troy nervously scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, I played pretty good, so you know..." he said timidly. Gabriella smiled shyly again before finally turning to him, taking his breath away. Her brown eyes glistened in a sad way, yet it seemed so beautiful to Troy. Her hair draped over her face loosely, as though she was trying to hide from the possible pain that was about to come next. This wasn't making the task on hand any easier for Troy. "So, you wanna talk?" she asked. The baseball-sized lump in Troy's throat grew to the size of a grapefruit before he unsuccessfully attempted to swallow it. "Yeah... uh... let's go to the party." he suggested fearfully while nodding to the doors to the gym that led to the empty parking lot where he knew his lone care would be. They reached the doors and each opened a different one, but it was in sync with the other. Chills rolled down Troy's back as they walked into the calm, crisp night. Blackness enclosed them as they marched towards the back parking lot where all the teachers parked and the athletes when they had events on weekends. He glanced over to see that Gabriella's thin arms were wrapped around each other to guard her from the cold and whatever else was going to come. He realized that she hadn't brought a jacket, or left it in her car or something. Even though the move would be extremely hypocritical to what he was about to do, Troy stopped abruptly only to have Gabriella turn around in surprise. He let his shoulder dip in order for the heavy gym back to fall off of it and removed the toasty sweatshirt that covered his shoulders. Once it was off, he took a small step towards Gabriella and gently wrapped it around her shoulders to protect her. "Troy... you don't have to..." Gabriella protested. "You're freezing." He cut her off and tried to give her a warming smile. Gabriella's shy one fell onto her face in a picture perfect moment that Troy could have saved forever. They began to move again in silence. After reaching the car that blended in with the night, Troy opened the door and unlocked it, letting Gabriella slide smoothly into the passenger's seat before tossing his red stink bag into the trunk to let that air in there. He hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine, immediately cranking up the heat that wasn't present, for Gabriella was still shaking slightly and the little hairs on Troy's bare arms were starting to stand up with tiny mountains of goosebumps beneath them. "Let me know how that is." Troy noted before waving his hand in front of the burst of energy from the heat that didn't come in the car fast enough. Gabriella's tiny body attempted to wrap the white sweatshirt around her closer, though Troy couldn't tell if it was the cold, or maybe the scent of him.
“Troy?” the 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 the thirty-six-year-old woman. Her flowing coca hair fell onto her slender body gently, and her slightly pale soft face held compassion in the dark grey eyes. “Sweetie... it’s almost seven.” she said. 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. Everything was so sleek in the large house that over looked some of the emerald forest. He had a glass window facing north that spilled in the uncommon sunlight. A giant poster of Dwayne Wade hung over his headboard, and before he turned around to walk by the shiny flat-screen computer sitting in the corner towards the bright door, his cyan eyes glanced at the single picture of two adults and a young boy with sparkling baby blue eyes, each holding his hand. Troy 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 a brunette man dressed in a matching tie and dress pants 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, all right?” 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 black leather jacket. His shoes was the last thing to go on. “See ya tonight, mama. 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.
Now Or Never[]
TBA
Right Here, Right Now[]
TBA
I Want It All[]
TBA
Can I Have This Dance?[]
TBA
A Night To Remember[]
TBA
Just Wanna Be With You[]
TBA
The Boys Are Back[]
TBA
Walk Away[]
TBA
Scream[]
Walking through the hallway of East High, Troy reached his locker. Standing next to his locker was Chad. "What's up, man?" Troy said as they bumped fists and pulled each other into a hug, slapping each other on the back and pulled away. "You know what I don't get, man?" Chad said. "What?" Troy replied confused. "Somehow you get Charlie Terada to be friends with us, and then, three months later, out of nowhere, he becomes a different person. That makes me real suspicious. That makes me think that you used your handsome fruity voodoo powers and put a hex on him that caused him to become a confident human-being. That sounds like some dark-sided, fruity voodoo stuff to me." Chad stated. "So what's your point?" Troy asked, shrugging his shoulders. "Promise me this, Troy. Promise me that you will never put a hex on Chad Danforth!" Chad dramatically announced. "To never put a hex on Chad Danforth. I promise. Scouts honor." Troy said, closing his eyes. They bumped fists again. After Chad left, Troy noticed a piece of paper lying on top of his books. It was a note. Troy didn't recognize the hand-writing, but he knew who had wrote it nonetheless. “Defending that fag was not such a bright idea. It kind of makes me wonder what team you're playing for. You make me sick, and I make it a promise that I will RUIN you Troy Bolton.” Troy let the note fall numbly from it's lose grip in his fingertips. His stomach churned and he suppressed a gag that formed in his throat in order to keep down his lunch. He knew that Caesar was not joking when he said that he would ruin him, and he knew that he could do it. How had this happened? How had it gotten this bad? Troy wasn't sure if they had actually been waiting for him, but as they saw Troy, he knew that they weren't going to pass up this opportunity. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the queer-lover himself?" Caesar snarled, throwing down the cigarette that he had been smoking and crushed it under his foot. "You know that wasn't a very smart thing to do, Bolton." he said in an eerily calm voice as he approached Troy. "You like harassing people, huh? Why don't you pick on someone who can give you a real fight?" Troy stated boldly. Caesar turned and smiled at his opponent. Troy gulped, taking a step back at the lanky boy's evil smirk. "Oh, I intend to, Bolton. Come here!" Caesar sneered. Troy began to walk up slowly but to his surprise Caesar's two friends were standing behind him. They rounded on either side of him and latched onto his arms, holding him in place. "Now, this look familiar. If I'm not mistaken I think that this is the same position your little friend was in not too long ago. Now can you tell me what happens next?" the bully hissed venomously. "Look, Caesar, you and I need to sort this out. Now." Troy said firmly. "In all your life has that line ever actually worked? Now answer the question. What comes next?" Caesar sneered. Troy didn't say anything he just held his ground as best he could. "Not talking, are we? Well, let me fill in the blanks." Caesar chortled. The blow to his stomach came fast. The next punch came to his face and Troy could feel the blood splatter from his nose, and he saw specks of it on the sadistic bully's curled fist. "A punch for a punch. But, somehow, it's just not enough." the Asian said coldly, spitting in Troy's face. He then turned to Troy, glaring at him. "Bolton, do you really want to fight me?" he questioned. Troy punched him right then and there. He never got so angry before but Caesar crossed the line. With one punch, he knocked him to the ground and he wasn't getting up. Troy was ready to go pound him in some more but the two guys came up to him to stop him. The black-haired boy brought his knee swiftly upward and it collided into Troy's groin. Troy cried out in pain and his knees buckled. If the other two boys hadn't been holding him up he would have crashed to the ground. "Drop this fool!" Caesar ordered. Troy fell to the ground and by this time, he was too weak to defend himself. Caesar crouched down on his knees beside Troy and grabbed Troy's face roughly in his hand, turning Troy to face him. "Don't you fuck with me, boy. Don't you ever fuck with me." Caesar hissed venomously. It was a warning, a promise, a threat, and Troy knew that every word of it was true. The three boys walked off leaving Troy lying on the hard concrete. Troy just laid there in bruises as blood lingered from his nostrils.
A little while later, Troy sat in his truck for a while, parked outside of his house. Troy moved to unbuckle his seatbelt, and opened the door. He shut the door behind him. He made his way up the steps that led to his front door and fumbled in his pocket for the keys. Opening the door to his home he stepped into the brightly lit front hallway and quickly toyed with the idea of running to his bedroom and refusing to come out until morning. "Troy? Is that you?" a female voice called out. Of course, no such luck. "Yeah Mom, I'm home." Troy replied. He stood there as she came rushing from out of the kitchen, a stern expression plastered on her pretty features. He could tell that she was ready for the intense questioning of "Where have you been?" but she stopped short when she saw the condition that he was in. Apparently word hadn't gotten around of what had happened after all. "My God, Troy, what happened?" Lucille asked in utter shock. She was by his side in a mere matter of seconds. She reached out to lightly run her fingertips over an ugly bruise that was forming along his cheek bone, and the fact that she was being so gentle, the fact that she seemed to care so much, was almost enough to send him into tears all over again. "I'm fine, ma. Really, I am." He tried to sound reassuring in his statement. He tried to convince her that he was not this broken boy standing in front of her, when really in all truth he was. He tried to do that one little thing for her. Just tell her that he was okay, because she needed to hear it and he certainly did as well, but he would never be that good of an actor. He saw the tears forming in her eyes and his voice cracked in his reassurance. "Please, ma, don't cry." He was desperate in his request, because he couldn't handle this, not now. Not now. Suddenly, a new emotion came over her face. One that he hardly ever saw on his mothers delicate features, but one that he recognized nonetheless, fury. "Who did this to you?" she asked. "Mom, I—" Troy began but she cut him off by grasping onto his shoulders. Shaking him slightly, because he needed to tell her, because she needed to know. "Tell me who did this to you." Lucille demanded firmly. He let out a small groan as the pain shot up his arms from where her hands held onto him. She saw the grimace on his face and immediately let go of him. Her look of rage being replaced by concern. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry." Lucille apologized. "I can't tell you, ma." Troy whispered. "You have to. As soon as your father and I find out, that little bastard is getting what he deserves." Her voice was strong and malicious but the tears were now falling from her eyes. With each word of anger a new tear slid down her cheeks, and with each promise of payback, her voice cracked a little more. Troy reached out with one scathed hand and began to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry. It would just make things so much worse. Don't you see that?" Troy said. He was desperate to make her understand, and he thanked God, Jesus, Buddha, and anybody else who was listening to the gratefulness of one teenager, when she nodded her head slowly. "Where's Dad?" Troy asked. "He called and said he had to stay late to work on something up at the school." his mother responded softly. Relief washed over Troy at the prospect of not having to deal with that situation. "Come on, if you're not going to tell me who did this to you, then you're at least going to let me clean up some of those cuts." Lucille said. He smiled slowly at her and she leaned in and kissed his forehead. Troy was sitting up on the counter as she finished up applying all the necessary antibiotics to make sure he didn't get an infection. "There, everything is all patched up." She said as she padded down one of the bandages on his elbow, probably from where he had fallen to the ground. With some help from her, he got off the counter. "Thank you, mama. Hey, I'm going to just go to bed now. I'm really tired." Troy said. He turned to walk away from her but she touched him lightly on the arm, halting him. He turned to face her and she pulled him into a hug that was gentle and firm all at once. "You don't know how much I love you, kid." she whispered in his ear as she ran her fingers through his hair. "And you don't know how much I needed to hear that." he replied lovingly. Troy pulled away from her and kissed her on the cheek. "Good night, mom." he whispered. He left her standing in the kitchen and headed up to his room, shutting the door behind him. Ignoring the ache in his body he pulled his shirt over his head. Not even attempting to remove his pants he laid down on his mattress, burying his face in the covers.
REST IS TBA
Troy walked in to the familiar sound of silence. He went to the freezer to find a bowl of ice cream and a spoon on the counter. That was always what he did eat. It numbed the dreadful pain. He took the spoon to the bowl and dug in. As soon as the ice cold food melt in his tongue, he felt better, he always did. All of a sudden he heard a door close. He turned around instantly and wondered in one of their maids or housekeepers had still be here and he hadn't noticed. But all the lights were off all over the house-which seemed weird. He set the bowl on the night table next to him and got up. He went down the hallway to where he heard the door. Then he saw it. His parent's door was left open. But there was no one there. Weird again. Caught in a vice like the deadly grip of an anaconda. Choking. Suffocating. The strong grasp around Troy's neck and chest was slowly rendering him breathless. The merciless hands wrenched their way around his body, squeezing him so tightly he had a flittering thought that he might just implode. Perhaps his bones would shatter and cave in on themselves. Or his internal organs might shrivel into an empty nothing. His initial panic at the surprise attack from behind was quickly snuffed by months of experience and, although powerless to the strong hold he was under, his time-established survivor's instinct kicked in almost instantly. The convulsion-like thrashing of his body was enough to loosen the arms that entrapped him. However his momentary advantage was quickly overthrown as, in one swift motion, he was hurled violently to the ground and spun around to face his attacker. He collided with the hard, wooden floor with a bone-cracking thud. All remaining air in his lungs was pushed outward in a pained sigh. His head made an impact with the floor, dizzying him with a single, hard, blunt blow just above where his spine met his skull. Above him, the ceiling distorted in shape and colour as the corners of his vision blurred. There was no time for him to recover. He'd barely sucked in a desperate gulp of air before a heavy load was placed on his abdomen. It didn't take him long to realise that his attacker was on top of him. The hands returned to his neck. And this time, not even his frantic writhing could free him. Rather than choke him, the callous grip only held him down, pinning his shoulders to the ground. Eyes; dark with fury, entered his vision. His heart experienced an uncharacteristic flutter at what he saw next. Teeth. Mouth open and teeth drawn like a mass of white knives. With an animal-like growl, the eager jaws came plummeting towards him. More specifically; towards his exposed neck. He knew it was over when he felt the hot breath tickle his shoulder. He knew then that no amount of protest would save him. His fate was sealed. The darkness was coming.
We're All In This Together[]
TBA
High School Musical[]
TBA
The Start of Something New[]
Pulling the car door shut behind him, Troy Bolton looked down to the driveway where his two cars sat. His old beat-up truck sat next to his fancy Porsche and he had to laugh at the contrast between the two cars. The engine took a little longer than it should to start up as he chucked his purse into the passengers seat and put it into reverse, slowly pulling out of the driveway before beginning the twenty-minute drive towards the hospital. He was late and he knew it as he made his way down the hallways to the O.R. where the rest of the interns were. As Troy entered the room, he could hear a man starting his speech that he had used probably hundreds of times. "Each of you come here today hopeful, wanting in on the game. A month ago, you were in med school, being taught by doctors. Today... you are the doctors." the man said. As he entered the room, Troy couldn't help but notice the look the older man shot him as Troy smiled sheepishly. "The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of you life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier speciality. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play... that's up to you." the older gentleman said. They were all dismissed to the intern locker-room to change into their scrubs, with their residents waiting for them. Troy already knew his resident was nicknamed the Nazi, which couldn't be a good thing considering it was his boss who was the one who told him that. He even seemed a little scared of him. Pulling the blue scrub shirt over his head, he glanced around the room, taking particular note of just how many females were around him. "Only six men out of twenty." Troy spoke up, glancing to a petite pretty girl, with a thick curtain of raven black curls bouncing across her face next to him. The girl seemed slightly startled by his voice. "Yeah, I hear one of them's a model. Seriously, that's going to help with the respect thing?" she said. Troy couldn't help the smile that came to his face at the woman's response. He briefly remembered the girl's face from the night before at the intern mixer he had been bragged to by Gabriella. He decided to take a shot at the girl's name. "You're Kelly, right?" Troy asked. The dark-haired girl nodded as residents filtered into the room, calling out their intern's names. "Which resident are you assigned to? I got Gould." Troy said. "The Nazi? Me, too." Kelly replied. "You got the Nazi? So did I." a medium-height, stocky guy with a creamy complexion and tangles of brown hair said. His voice cut in from across the locker room. Troy and Kelly turned to look at the owner of the voice. As Troy looked at him, he thought for a moment that the kid wasn't going to make it through the program before he brushed the thought away. "At least we'll be tortured together, right?" the boy rambled on. Kelly turned looked away from him, finding the conversation awkward as Troy just smiled politely with a nod. "I'm Mark, Mark Davis. Uh, we met at the mixer. You had on a black shirt with one button undone..." Mark said. Kelly shot him a look, while Troy smiled at him a little. Sure, Troy remembered him, but Gabriella was also there, pulling faces at him from across the room. "Yeah..." Troy said. Realization took over Mark. "Now you think I'm gay. No, I'm not gay." Mark said quickly. Kelly walked away with an 'uh-huh'. "It's -- It's just that you were -- you were very unforgettable." Mark said awkwardly. "Oh, thanks, man! Flattered, really." Troy responded. A man stepped into the room and starting calling more people. "Davis, Bukater, Bolton, Stevens." he announced. Troy thought he heard Mark mutter something behind him but brushed it off as he walked towards the man and Kelly. Kelly was already there, asking the man for directions to Gould. "End of the hall." he told her. Both Troy and Kelly looked to see a pint-sized African-American woman, with black bobbed hair and a bit overweight leaning against the desk writing in what was probably a chart. "That's the Nazi?" Kelly asked in disbelief. "I thought the Nazi would be a guy." Mark said. "I thought the Nazi would be a... Nazi." Troy said honestly. A tall, slim, blonde-haired woman with a pretty face strode up from behind the three of them. "Maybe it's professional jealousy. Maybe she's brilliant and they call her The Nazi because they're jealous. Maybe she's nice." she responded. Kelly gave the blonde a once-over. "Let me guess; you're the model." she said, almost disapprovingly. She glared at Kelly, then turned to Dr. Gould and moved to shake her hand. "Hi, I'm Christa Stevens, but everyone calls me Chris." Christa greeted. Gould stared her up and down with an impassive look before looking away, not deeming her with a response. Christa awkwardly took her hand away. "I have five rules. Memorize them. Rule number one, don't bother sucking up. I already hate you, that's not going to change." Dr. Gould said and gestured to the bench next to her. "Trauma protocol, phone lists, pagers. Nurses will page you. You answer every page at a run. A run, that's rule number two." she continued. Dr. Gould walked away and the group followed her as she continued listing her rules. "Your first shift starts now and lasts 48 hours. You're interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain. You run labs, write orders, work every second night until you drop and don't complain." Dr. Gould said. She opened a door. "On-call rooms. Attendings hog them, so sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to rule number three: if I'm sleeping, don't wake me unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four: the dying patient better not be dead when I get there. Not only would you have killed someone, you would have also woken me for no good reason. Are we clear?" Dr. Gould asked. Troy raised his hand. "You said five rules. That was only four." he said. Gould's pager beeped, and she glanced down at it. "Rule number five: when I move, you move." she said and took off down the hallway. When Dr. Gould's newest patient, a young girl with blonde hair, was settled into her room, Gould turned to the group of interns. "Davis, you're in charge of Katie Bryce. Dr. Burke wants every test run on her: CT, CBC, chem. seven, tox screen. You're responsible for all of them. The rest of you, I'm assigning you to an attending. You'll the work with them today and do as they ask. Dr. Stevens, you're going to be with Dr. Morris in ortho today. Bukater, you're with Dr. Burke in cardio, and Bolton, you're with Dr. Shepherd in neuro. Now go, they're each expecting an intern." Gould ordered. Troy took off, blindly searching for anyone who looked like they may possibly be a neurosurgeon. He wandered aimlessly through the halls of hospital before he opened the doors into a wide lobby and looked around. There was a group of doctors discussing something over to the side of the room, but no one.
By the time lunch rolled around, Troy was relieved that he could finally get away from work for an hour. "How's Katie Bryce?" Kelly asked Mark. "Boring. All of her scans came back clean, and all I do is sit around and listen to her whine about missing her pageant. She told me that her pageant talent is rhythmic gymnastics. She's been practicing the routine for this pageant for weeks and got it down just about a week ago. I'm not even sure how I paid attention long enough to remember this, but she fell while practicing after twisting her ankle a couple weeks ago and hit her head, ice her ankle for a few minutes, and then kept practicing. If that's not passion, I don't know what is." Mark divulged. "At least you aren't in ortho. I don't know how anyone can enjoy specializing in it. All I've seen this morning is relocating shoulders and consults on surgeries that won't even be happening for a few days. How's cardio, Kelly?" Christa asked. "I like the idea of it, but I haven't done very much today. Dr. Burke is brilliant, though, so he'll probably figure out a way to make it exciting for me this afternoon. I'm honestly more curious about being on McDreamy's service." Kelly said. "Excuse me?" Troy asked, stunned. "You." Kelly clarified. "You're calling me McDreamy?" Troy asked. "Well, if the shoe fits..." Christa trailed off. "It's awful. You know how great surgeons know they're great and don't have to point it out because their surgeries speak for them? They know they're incredible and still point out just how great they are." Troy complained. "Unless you've been in the O.R. with them, you can't say that. They could be extremely modest when it comes to the actual surgery." Christa offered. "I don't know. You're hot, so I wouldn't count yourself out yet." some guy said and everyone at the table stared. "Sorry, my name is Alex. Alex Karev. I'm with Jeremy." the bigger-built, short brown-haired, determined-looking man said. "This is a private conversation, so in the future, it would be appreciated if you could not eavesdrop. And also, crude comments about someone before you even know them don't make good first impressions." Christa said with a glare in his direction. "As much as I agree with her, don't mind Christa. I'm Troy. That's Kelly and Mark." Troy greeted. "Nice to meet you guys. And, Troy, I don't know who this guy is that you're talking about, but I wouldn't count him out so quickly either. Get to know him a little more before deciding that he's only in it for the lay." Alex advised.
There's No Place Like Home[]
TBA
The End of the Beginning[]
TBA
Live Free Or Twi-Hard[]
TBA
The Betrayal[]
TBA
When There Was Me and You[]
TBA
Paranoia[]
"Great job, Troy." That voice forced Troy to look to the right. There, he found Charlie, kneeling to meet Troy's eye-level, his brown eyes piercing and condemning. "It's only about seven years too late." Charlie said. "Charlie, I'm so sorry." Troy choked on his own words, tears turning to acid ran down his face. "I'm so..." Troy began. "Sorry." Charlie cut Troy off with a harsh and cynical tone. "I know. But sorry doesn't bring me back, now does it." Charlie said. The Asian boy got up and walked over to where Troy lay, kneeling once again, closer to Troy's face. He gazed into Troy's cerulean irises, hate bubbling up within him. "You hurt me, Troy. You know that, right? They'll blame you for everything. All because you couldn't save me." Charlie said coldly. He placed a hand on Troy's shoulder, looking straight into his eyes. "Charlie..." Troy began cautiously, trying desperately not to startle the terrified boy in front of him. "You're okay, buddy. You're safe now." he said. Troy's gaze softened, yet still guarded. Taking a step closer to Charlie, Troy noticed that his friend's posture was rigid and stressed, yet his body began to relax with each step Troy took. Charlie's face twisted in pain and sorrow, tears falling from his eyes. "Why did this have to happen?" Charlie asked, shakily. "I don't know. I don't know. But we-we can't focus on the things that went wrong, Charlie. Not any more." he said. Charlie shook his head, denying the words that were spilling out of his friend's mouth. "I know that it's hard to look past the death..." Troy continued, silently thanking God for Charlie's momentary lapse in focus. "I know that it's easy to focus on all the pain. But think of how many lives who loved you; how much you parents loved you. I know that it seems impossible, Charlie, but it's not. I promise. You are safe now." Troy's voice caught, emotions rising up from within. Charlie's eyes glazed over at Troy's words. His face softened slightly, the promise of redemption stretching across his face. Troy took in a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Troy let his hands fall slowly back to his sides, walking right up to Charlie. "Why can't you save anybody?" Charlie asked, his eyes becoming desperate and scared. Troy's eyes flooded with unshed tears, making his vision all the more blurry. Charlie's rail-thin frame began to fade from view. "Charlie... I'm sorry... I tried." Troy choked out. His body felt broken and battered. The adrenaline was wearing off finally and the pain that wracked his bones was beginning to seep into the doctor's soul. He understands now; these hallucinations were his ongoing guilt manifesting; now it's gone because he stopped being cold and ruthless toward people and began trying to help and save once again. Troy's eyes shot up as someone's hands gripped his shoulders, shaking him violently. On instinct, Troy's deadly arms flung up, pushing away the intruder's grip. Next, Troy's deathly hands took hold on the intruder's neck, squeezing the air into a narrowing passage, before closing the passage completely, cutting off the enemy's air supply. Suddenly, Troy's eyes focused on the one he was slowly choking. His eyes focused in on the pale face of his friend, clawing desperately at Troy's arms. Alex had been slammed against the wall and was now fighting with everything in him to break free of Troy's unbreakable grip. Immediately, tears flooded Troy's eyes and his hands released the hold on his friend's neck. Deep gasps filled the deafening silence. Alex's hands fiercely rubbed the now blood-red skin of his neck, trying desperately to gain all oxygen back into his lungs. Both doctors met in a gaze full of fear and pity, guilt and pain. "Troy." Alex's voice was raspy and hoarse, still huffing for breath. The bulkier doctor rose up to walk towards the muscular brunette, trying, but to no avail, to prevent the young neurosurgeon from fleeing the scene in shame. Troy's face was now covered in silent tears, his chest filling in with oxygen as the reality of the situation began to set in. "Don't..." Troy began in rebuttal to his co-worker, emotion choking the words from his mouth. "Don't come near me." Troy seethed. With one more, painfully saddened look, Troy's eyes filled with more tears at the sight of his broken friend. "I'm so sorry." Troy cried.
Farewell, My Bunny[]
The ticking clock in the background filled the silent room. Sounds of squeaking leather chairs and the scratch of a pen synchronized in time. The room was lit warmly, the atmosphere inviting. He had never felt more exposed and uncomfortable. The older gentleman had a soft light-blue long-sleeve workshirt on, a crisp white shirt underneath it. His blue eyes were soft and the glasses that lay on his nose glittered in the warm light. The man sat with one leg crossed over the other, a legal pad and pen resting on it. Troy sat on a comfy chair; moving around every now and again, to find a good position. "How are you today, Mr. Bolton?" the man asked. Troy looked quickly, dazed almost, at the man in front of him. After a few seconds it registered that he was talking to Troy. "Oh, you don't... You don't need to call me that or anything." Troy said with a little chuckle. The elderly man nodded his head in understanding. "Forgive me. I didn't want to be disrespectful. What would you like me to call you?" he asked. "Troy is fine, sir." Troy responded. "No need to call me, “sir”, Troy." the older gentleman said. "Sorry. I didn't want to be disrespectful. What would you like me to call you?" he asked. The gentleman smiled sweetly at the young man in front of him. "You can call me whatever you want: Dr. Turley, Mark, whichever." he said. "Okay, Dr. Turley..." Troy tested out the new name. "...So what do we do now?" Troy asked nervously. "Whatever you want, Troy. We can talk, we can sit, whatever you are comfortable with." the old man suggested. Troy nodded his head slowly, his fingers intertwining with one another. His thumbs tapped against each other once, twice. "Well, I guess I should tell you why I'm here." Troy said awkwardly. Dr. Turley smiled softly and chuckled kindly. "I believe that wouldn't be a bad idea." he said. Troy smiled shyly, lowering his head momentarily. "Well, I graduated from high school about seven years ago, as you know..." Troy gestured to Dr. Turley, who nodded in agreement. "And I just recently became a neurosurgeon because I love helping others." Troy said. Dr. Turley nodded again as Troy paused. He looked through his spectacles at the man in front of him. "But I couldn’t help someone who was my friend. You see, I have been seeing things that aren’t there and..." Troy stopped, searching for the right words. "Sometimes I just... I had a friend w-who... He died, and..." Troy stammered, his breathing shaky. "Continue, Troy." Dr. Turley said to Troy, realizing he was having trouble verbalizing his problems. Troy nodded, thanking the doctor silently. "And in a few instances, I've acted with... with physical force during those moments." Troy said with shame and guilt. Dr. Turley's brow knitted into one of concern and compassion at Troy's words. "I see." the doctor said simply. Troy lowered his gaze, ashamed and guilty. "It can't keep happening, Doctor." Troy said. Dr. Turley looked to Troy, waiting for him to finish his though. "You see, I have loved-ones. Both times, these physical reactions have happened, they've been reciprocates. I can't hurt the people I love, Dr. Turley. I just can't." Troy stated. Dr. Turley held the words that found their way onto his tongue. Troy had more to say, he was sure of it. So he held his tongue, waiting for the young man to finish. "And I can't keep feeling this way, Doctor." Troy finished with exasperation. "And how exactly do you feel, Troy?" Dr. Turley asked. Troy and Dr. Turley sat in silence for a moment. "That I shouldn't be alive. That I don't deserve to be alive and happy when so many of my friends are still trying to help me, support me. And what about my friend who died? I feel so guilty for not being able to save him when he had so much to live for. He was so young. He was one of the most sweetest, kindest human-beings I've ever met. He was, like, possessed with this... childlike innocence... and from that moment on... because he moved to Albuquerque. I cared for him greatly but then the amount of evil that came right at that moment, I have never seen the likes. This world destroyed him." Troy sighed out dejectedly. Dr. Turley put his pen and paper to the side on the small end table beside his chair. Next, he removed his spectacles and placed them on the table as well. With a small movement, Dr. Turley hunched over to look up at Troy, whose stunning blue gaze cut through his well-worn soul. "Troy..." his voice was soft and gentle, encouraging yet stern. "I know that it doesn't mean much now, but you need to understand something. You are not to blame for the death of your friend. You get to be happy and live a life again. As for the hallucinations and physical bouts, we will fix it. I promise you. We are in this together, Troy." Dr. Turley said boldly. Troy smiled weakly, reassured that he was doing the right thing by coming here, "All right, Doc. All right." Troy said. Dr. Turley smiled in kind before returning his glasses to their place and picking up the pen and paper... Troy's face grew stern for a moment as he began to think about everything he and Dr. Turley had just discussed. Fights and the demise of Charlie Terada. It would never be something he could fully get over and never something he would understand. Yet there was a peace inside Troy, stirring up from the dark shadows that encased his calloused soul. A peace about his part in everything that happened in high school and Charlie's death.
REST IS TBA
His posture was much more relaxed than his first time in the warm office space. The leather chair was warm underneath him and a calming peace washed over Troy as the grandfather clock kept time in the background. He breathed in and out, softly, as the beauty of the moment seeped into his soul. "So, you get to do surgery today." Dr. Turley's voice was warm and raspy, breaking Troy's dreamlike state. "You must be excited to get back to work." he finished. Troy nodded his head lightly, acknowledging the truth in his shrink's words. "You have no idea. I feel so stir-crazy, not being able to do anything." Troy said. Dr. Turley's eyes lit up and a small smile hugged the man's face. A deep chuckle vibrated in his chest. "I can understand that. I hate not being able to do anything useful. It drives me crazy." he said. Troy laughed in return, his hand resting underneath his chin. "Yes, sir, it does." Troy said. Dr. Turley glanced over at Troy through his spectacles. Suddenly, he put his notepad and pen down, placing his glasses down on the legal pad. Dr. Turley's voice grew solemn, quiet and quite serious. Troy's posture became stiff and uncertain, ready for whatever happened next. "Troy, I want to talk to you about this young man -- Peter Samuels." Dr. Turley started. Troy's eyes closed in agony, knowing where the conversation was headed. "Okay." Troy grunted. "You've told me so much of what happened in your life, Troy, and that's wonderful. I've never had a patient so willing to open up to me before. It's great progress, son." Dr. Turley stopped, unsure of how to continue. "But, have you told anyone else what happened? Have you told your parents? Chad? Gabriella?" Dr. Turley asked. Troy took a deep breath, his eyes hitting the floor. He moved slightly in his seat. His elbows and forearms resting on his thighs. "Why does that matter, Doctor?" Troy asked. Dr. Turley sighed in sadness. "Because, Troy, you will never be able to let them back in, not fully anyway, until you tell them. They will never be able to understand, or begin to understand what happened to you if they don't actually know what happened? And that's the whole reason we're here. It's about helping you heal and helping you figure out how to heal those relationships. They need to know, Troy, especially the woman you love. You can't fully let Gabriella in until you show her all that you are. And she won't jump in until you do." Dr. Turley said. "I don't know if she will like what she finds..." Troy's voice was nothing more than a whisper and it damn near broke Dr. Turley's old and worn heart. "I can't bear it if she couldn't love what she found." Troy cried. Dr. Turley smiled sweetly. "If she loves you like you love her, it won't even be a struggle to." he said strongly. Troy swallowed roughly, fighting back the emotions that threatened to consume him. He clasped his hands together as Dr. Turley's words sank in. Troy's head nodded up in down, letting his doctor, his friend, know that he understood what needed to be done.
Lights, Camera, Action[]
TBA
Home Alone[]
TBA
Into the Woods[]
TBA
Black Swan[]
TBAAppearances[]
Season One (12/12)
|
Season Two (12/12)
|
Trivia[]
TBA