The theatre was dim, aside from the scattered applause echoing from within. You crept softly through the hallway, entering the auditorium. That’s when you saw him.

Troy Bolton — the golden boy of East High, Wildcat superstar — hunched awkwardly behind a janitor cart. His tall frame was far from subtle, eyes peeking anxiously from behind a mop handle as he watched the stage through the open auditorium doors.

"Hey," you said gently, just loud enough to startle him. He jumped slightly, but as soon as he turned and saw it was you, the tension melted slightly from his face. He looked... sheepish.

"So you decided to sign up for something?" you asked softly. "Uh… no. You?" he asked you, his voice low.

You shook your head. “Um… why are you hiding behind a mop?” He chuckled softly — the sound edged with embarrassment — and straightened up a bit, pushing the cart away with one hand like it would erase the moment.

“Your friends don’t know you’re here, right?” you guessed, reading him like a book. The way he was crouched behind that cart and flinched at your voice made it pretty clear.

“Right,” he confirmed quickly, eyes flicking back to the stage like someone might still spot him. “Uh, Miss Darbus is a little... harsh,” Troy commented.

You raised a brow. “The Wildcats superstar’s afraid?” you teased lightly, “No! I’m not afraid. I’m… I’m just… scared.” He stumbled over his words before finally admitting it.

“Me too. Usually,” you said softly, your tone more understanding. Nobody but you saw Troy Bolton like this — out of his element, unsure, human.

Before either of you could say more, Miss Darbus’s booming voice sliced through the theatre. You jumped slightly, and so did Troy. Without thinking, you both crouched lower and ducked into the auditorium, slipping into the very last row of seats.

You kept your heads low, trying to blend into the shadows while still peeking through the rows ahead. Troy slumped into his seat beside you, watching the auditions happening.

Eventually, the theatre began to clear out. Most of the students left quickly. “Well, ARE THERE ANY LAST MINUTE SIGN UPS?” Miss Darbus called, her voice echoing off the auditorium walls.

You and Troy both stood quietly, trying to make your exit unnoticed. He motioned for you to go ahead first, and you followed his lead, tiptoeing along the aisle.

That’s when Sharpay’s voice cut through the room, snapping at Kelsi. You stopped walking, your hand reaching instinctively for Troy’s wrist as you turned to look. Kelsi stood small and timid, eyes wide behind her glasses.

“Any last minute sign ups?” Miss Darbus repeated once more, her patience running thin.

You turned to Troy. He stood behind you, his expression unreadable. When he shook his head, it was soft. “We should go,” he whispered.

But something inside you refused to move. Your feet stayed planted as your heart thudded, quick and loud in your chest. Before you knew it, your mouth opened. “I’d like to audition, Miss Darbus!”

The words echoed louder than you expected. Time slowed.

Troy’s jaw dropped. “No—! What—!?” he whisper-yelled, throwing his hands into his hair like he was trying to physically push the chaos out of his brain. You didn’t look back at him, because you knew if you did, you might freeze.

He groaned, spinning around to hide behind the entrance wall again like he could disappear. Miss Darbus narrowed her eyes, adjusting her scarf as she began walking toward the auditorium doors. “Individual auditions are long gone over, and there are simply no other pairs.”

“I’ll sing with her.”

Troy’s voice rang through the auditorium, clear and certain — and just as stunned as yours had been moments ago.

You turned your head to see him emerging from the shadows, one hand in the air like a surrender, the other still tangled in his hair. His eyes met yours with disbelief… and something softer. A flicker of something unspoken.

He walked toward you slowly, like even his legs were surprised at what they were doing. You looked over at him in disbelief, gratitude.