Summary:
Being a former stripper and playmate by the age of 27, Sharpay Evans was as shocked as everyone when her late husband left her one hell of an inheritance – Troy Bolton.

Pairing:
Troypay

Story Guide:
I've listened to too many Rachel Gibson and done painful basketball research so please forgive me if I’m not perfect.

Disclaimer:
I don’t own New York Knicks; neither do I own Playboy, or a strip club and Disney (because it's wrong to own both at the same time)

Dedication:
For Abbi Dawson (DanceDORK) who approved of this (:

Prologue

“I wouldn’t be surprised if her sex tape is up on youtube with a million hits”

The day of Vincent Murphy’s funeral was so beautiful that Sharpay wished it to be otherwise. Amongst the guests were whispers. She didn’t have to be rude and try to eavesdrop to know that they were wondering. They were wondering if Vince was looking down at them who came and pay their respects in front of his Versace suit clad body – dead body. They mostly, however, wondered what his wife would do with the money and the NBA basketball team he left her.

"And I wouldn't be surprised if she uploads the sex tape herself!"

Giggles, and then - more whispers.

Troy Bolton was not an exception. He wondered that himself as he moved past people across the parquet flooring entry and moved into the large room. The towering windows spilled sunshine to the now new widow, Sharpay Evans-Murphy’s golden head, making her the stood out – just like he distinctly remember of her at high school. Only the difference now was that she hadn’t picked a complicated pink art piece, but she wore a simple black dress that hugged her body incredibly.

“Hey Bolton,” and turned to meet his teammate, Jeremy Quinn's blond scruff blending with the yellow light, “How’s it goin’?”

“Good” He debated asking the next question, whether it was appropriate or even mandatory to ask, “Have you given your condolences?” Jeremy turned his head towards Sharpay’s direction

“Not yet” Jeremy answered, “How old was that guy, 80?” Jeremy stared off to space, as if trying to picture him in clear air

“79” But what difference does 12 months make?

Troy hadn’t known the man buried just a few hours earlier, very much - except he was the man that came three months ago and offered him to be the captain of the New York’s Knicks and he had left his team mates at Utah Jazz’s for him (and the money he had promised to pay, of course). He hadn’t let the fact that he married Sharpay Evans get in the way of his decision.

It doesn't matter if Sharpay Evans were his daughter - which would make better sense, seeing their age difference. It doesn't matter because he's trying to see the bigger picture. Him, leading the New York Knicks to win the Larry O'Brien trophy

Sharpay Evans-Murphy doesn't matter, that's what he told himself.

Jeremy studied the immobile Sharpay and scanned her, trying to find an invisible flaw, “How an 80 year old does landed that piece of ass is beyond me”

The talk around the locker room these past few months has been bonded and sealed on Sharpay Evans-Murphy. Troy had learned she had been a stripper in Vegas, then a model (a playmate or in other words, posing nude for Playboy) and married the man old enough to be her grandfather as if she alone - with the Evans family and their chain of country clubs - was not loaded enough.

He couldn’t give a damn, but now he had to, his chances to getting the biggest trophy in NBA, O’Brien, now lays on her hands since she had inherited the team. She inherited, him. She would be signing his checks - once again, deja vu all over, him and all his friends to work for Sharpay. The only thing changed is the venue, instead of Lava Springs as their playground, it was New York.

“Yeah” Troy stifled a laugh. He hadn’t exactly told his teammates that he went to the same high school as their new owner. He had considered it and pondered when the right moment seemed to open the chance for him to speak but he knew there was no right time to say 'Oh by the way, I went to school with our owner. What's new with you?'. “See you” He unbuttoned his jacket as he his teammates decked out in designer suits and looked very out of place.

Troy felt his feet getting heavier. This woman, whom he wasn’t that fond of in high school, could ruin his chances with 3 days left to first playoffs. He’d first laid eyes on Sharpay Evans after 10 years a few hours earlier at the church and she was as breathtaking as ever. He wasn't fond of her attitude back in high school but that didn't mean that made her any less beautiful than she was.

“I’m sorry for your loss” Troy said tactfully

Sharpay looked up from the big hand offered at her. Shock replaced her solemn expression but only for a split second before her cool demeanor returned, Troy Bolton stood before her, all 5 ft 9 in his glory. He was bigger, more muscular, and definitely more handsome; but his eyes were as blue as it had always been “Tr—Thank you”. A slight frown appeared at her forehead and she took his hand, her skin soft and cool against his warm palms. “Why are you here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Sharpay gulped the lump in her throat and slowly let out a breath, “You’re captain of Vince’s basketball team” She spoke as if she had never known him - that was fine with him.

It was her New York Knicks now – but his mother always told Troy to not correct a woman so he just nodded. “You’re his wife” He sounded puzzled, not quite the response she’d expected, “He was a great guy” As if that would whisk away the awkward atmosphere. “I enjoy our often long talks about basketball”

This was not the conversation he’d imagined he’d be having the next time he would meet Sharpay Evans. He’d imagined being in the old building of East High sipping beers and making small talk on how she’d been since high school with all their old friends and teachers. He imagined her in all her glory proudly claiming that she was a very successful heiress without children. Yes, he had imagined the next time he would meet her, Sharpay Evans was not the person you’d just forget once you’ve graduated.

Sharpay smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes “Yes” She drew in a breath as she pictured her late husband talking about his past time, “He loved it”

She wore little make up and it surprised him – she was a playmate, a former playmate if you must, and there's no playmate who didn't like to paint their faces. “Well, if there’s anything the guys and I could do” He referred to the other 11 people at the team, he was captain now. Her late husband had made him; it was his mandatory even if the other guys in the team were only concerned on looking for old playboys for a glimpse of their new owner’s body, “Let me know”

“Thank you” She said it with as much sincerity as he’d given her, which was not much. Like a lot of times back in high school and like most men, he had said all the right things and didn’t mean them. Men seldom did.

Vince’s only child, Drake Murphy made his way towards them. Troy did notice Sharpay’s shoulders squared and her faltering smile. Drake whispered something to her ear and Troy didn’t know if he’d like to know. Drake was as ruthless and driven as his father but lack the charm that based his father’s success

“Thanks for coming Mr. Bolton” Troy watched Sharpay turned and walked away. Suddenly a crash of flashback hit him, he half expected her to slip a cute little wave and a ‘toodles’ but she didn’t. He hadn’t expected to be called, ‘Mr. Bolton’, not by Sharpay Evans who usually greet him at homeroom with a little giggle and a perky “Troy!”

“Have you seen her pictures?” Troy’s gaze tore from the Widow’s departing ass and looked to the left to the black eye of all-around-shitter, Sam Mandel, who had gotten it while picking up a random fight at a bar last week.

Troy had better things to focus on like the first playoffs game against Utah’s Jazz at Saturday than digging up his old Playboys for naked pictures of his old schoolmate. He had been the Jazz’s captain three months ago and he knew that they were up for a big treat for playoff’s opener. But he didn’t have to ask which pictures, “No”

“Her boobs are real”

Considering his black eye, Troy was afraid to know how Sam had concluded that.

“Do you think she could get us invited to the Playboy’s mansion?”

Troy had better things to do, like practice, than talking about breasts of Sharpay Evans-Murphy had with Sam Mandel. Troy did grant him with a laugh though, “See you tomorrow, Sam”

Moving past the crowd and the huge double doors, Troy thought about the rumors circulating around that Sharpay was going to sell the team, and Troy couldn’t help but wish that she would get that sort out soon. He didn’t need any uncertainty that would keep his focus out of winning the playoffs – a former school/playmate who posed naked for a magazine and marry a 79 year old for cash was not what Troy want as the team’s owner.

Oh the irony – he had once disliked Sharpay. She had once held his future scholarship at U of A with singing with her and now she held his future of playing for New York’s Knicks.

Sharpay could get her revenge any time; she could trade Troy to any of the lowest record team in the country and ruin his chances of being involved in the playoffs. He had one goal all his career and it was to win the Larry O’Brien trophy with the New York Knicks this playoff. If Sharpay did ruthlessly trade him to another team, he would have to wait another year for a shot of winning the Larry O’Brien trophy.

Troy knew maybe him and his friends had given unintended harm on Sharpay throughout high school. She wasn't mean just a very driven girl and he had respected that. Balancing drama and basketball hadn’t been easy and he had known where his life was heading when he was offered a chance to play for the Phoenix’s basketball team, Suns. Slowly he and Gabriella grew apart, and the last time he had heard from her was from Chad whose girlfriend Taylor, attended her wedding to a lawyer she’d met at college.

The sound of Sharpay Evans broke out his trance of thought, “Of course I want to see you” she said, “but this is not the best time”

Her back was to him, he was standing a few feet away, “I don’t want to argue right now” She raised her fingers to her forehead, “You know I love you. I’ll see you soon okay?”

Troy continued down the steps, he didn’t want to hear what Sharpay had got to say to her secret lover. The fact she had an affair hadn’t shocked him as much as the fact she wore light make up today. She was Sharpay Evans, most popular girl in high school, former Playboy model and she’s only been 27, same age as his, and she’d been married to an old man. An old man who left her his basketball team.

Why wouldn't Sharpay have a secret lover?

Putting on his Ray-Ban aviators to shade his eyes from the afternoon sun, he slid into the cool leather interior or his black BMW. He hadn’t let the price of fame got into his head, but he can’t resist the advantages of having nice cars. He fired up the M6 and drove out of the gated estate and took the long way home

-

Sharpay sighed and rested her back against the wall. She needed to get out of the room filed with people whispering about her and her slick moves to get her inheritance, and now that she got it, they’re speculating what she’s about to do next. She didn’t even know and people were coming up with bizarre ideas.

“Ryan, please. Now is a bad time”

“Your husband died and now is a bad time to visit my own sister?” He sighed exasperatedly, “Shar, you can only handle so much”

Sharpay thought of flying her brother to Manhattan to stare at her figuring out what she wanted to do with her life next – it was a bad idea, “I can handle it, Ry – now is impossible” She thought about the movers in hers and Vince’s Upper East Side’s mansion right now. Sharpay quickly got inside before Drake Murphy’s lawyer started going through her drawers.

“Do you not want to see your own brother, is that it? That’s it, right? It’s the only plausible explanation”

“Of course I want to see you” She paused, “but it’s a bad time”

“Sharpay, there’s no other good time”

“I don’t want to argue right now” She raised her fingers to her forehead, “You know I love you. I’ll see you soon okay?”

She closed her cell phone right away – the last thing she need was the whirlwind of her brother throwing a fit over the phone. Last night she’d dreamt of her long blond hair blew about her head as Motley Crew’s “Slice Of Your Pie” played at the Aphrodite’s main stage inside the strip club. Pink laser lights would slash across her long legs and six-inch acrylic platform heels. She would slowly strip down her tiny plaid skirt and blouse in the while moving across poles and various metal chairs while men watched with hungry eyes and pumped fists, holding dollar bills to tuck between her underwear.

It had been awhile since she had had that dream but it had always had the same effect on her. She would wake up with sweats and the anxiety and panic stole her breath and accelerates her heart beat. Being the object of the man’s fantasy in bare skin had always made her felt alone and terrified. She had two options back then, starve or strip. She’d chosen to survive.

Things had certainly changed since then, she had gotten a place at Fifth Avenue, overlooking the Central Park – she couldn’t have been more satisfied at her new awaiting penthouse. With Vince’s money she had secured a place to live even that he hadn’t left the mansion for her. He had given it to his son but yet, he gave the New York Knicks to her.

Sharpay is not a sports fan and she had made it pretty clear that fact to her late husband by refusing to come along to any basketball games at Madison Square Garden – and that was before Troy Bolton was even traded to his team. She had learned that her old crush, Troy Bolton was the captain of the team the same day she’d been sinking the fact that she would own the 130 million worth team.

Unlike Vince’s 4th trophy wife, Drake had been counting down the days when his father would give him the team. Owning a professional sports team was a sign of extreme wealth – it would open memberships to exclusive clubs Drake had longed. The clubs that thought he was not good enough. The blood bind of him to his father was not enough to secure him a place in the listed members section. Now the dreams of clubs begging him to join had proved just to be the imagination of his that certainly wouldn’t come true.

Once she’d gotten into the estate, she spotted the lawyer telling off the movers to pick up the pace.

“I’ll need to search that” The lawyer had said when Sharpay dragged her Louis Vuitton luggage filled with jewelries and change of clothes she’d need before she had time to go shopping. Moving her whole walking closet was not an option. The penthouse she’d gotten was perfect, except for the small closet, but she figured she'd just have to hire a constructor for that.

“You’ll need a warrant” She wasn’t scared of one of Drake’s bullies. Darn, she was a bully in back in school. And the lawyer hadn’t stopped her when she put on her jacket. Vince had always told her to wear mink or silver fox but she was not comfortable with fur. Just as she’s not comfortable leaving in front of the despising Murphy’s family but she sucked that up and held her head high

She nearly shed a tear when she passed the chair her husband had died in but she also didn’t want to be said of putting up an act by everyone else. She'd rather be strong and keep a good face.

She was plopped down contently at the chair beside him and her attention was fully focused to the American Idol’s contestants before she shifted her gaze to her husband when he took a sharp breath, “Are you okay?” she had asked

He had looked up from his book and looked up, “I’m not feeling so great” He set his glasses and book at the arm rest, “I think I’ll go to bed”

Before Sharpay had set down the remote after turning off the television, Vince was already slumping and gasping on the ground. She cradled his head on her lap and whispered soothing words to him as she talked frantically to the operator of 911. She had told him not to die, but he hadn’t been able to live up to her wish.

She moved the long, winding staircase and forced a smile. She had said goodbyes to some of Vince’s friends who had been kind to her and moved to the front door. She got into her Bentley and drove out her home. The home that no longer was hers. She had to face the new prospect of a whole new life, whether she was ready or not

-

"Shar!" Ryan enveloped her in his arms. His luggage far forgotten as it slipped from his grip to the dirty airport's marble floor.

He rubbed her head and she buried her face to her brother's shoulder. He had grown a few inches taller, "I told you not to come". His cologne snaked upon her nostrils and she realized that she had missed him. She was glad Ryan was stubborn enough not to listen to her and get his butt up to New York. Now that he was there, she admitted that she needed support and Ryan was it. It's just that she would never admit it to Ryan, or to anyone else. She was Sharpay Evans, she was the strong one.

"Nice to see you too, sis" Ryan pulled her at arms-length to look at her, checking for any damage. Physical ones if not mentally. "You seem good"

"I am good" She reassured, "I told you" She pulled away from the embrace and helped him with his carry-ons.

Ryan fell to her pace and followed her towards the direction of the airport's parking lot, "I just wanna make sure you don't do anything drastic"

Sharpay scoffed at this. She had never done anything so called as drastic - except for being kicked out from U of A when his father died of heart attack when finding Lava Springs were going out of business and running off to Vegas to be a stripper - but that was desperate time, and it called for desperate measures. Sharpay had done just that - what was required for her survival. "Like what? Cut my wrists like a teenager?"

Ryan didn't respond. When Sharpay stopped her walk she looked at Ryan - shocked and ashamed at him. Ryan didn't meet her gaze, "Come on Ryan, you know me better than that"

"I failed that when you decided to be a stripper at Vegas. I didn't hear from you until your layout at Playboy and I got a wedding invitation saying that my estranged sister was about to marry Vincent Murphy" Ryan walked ahead of her once his eyes found Sharpay's silver shining Bentley parked among the rusty, regular cars. It has always stood out just like her, it had never been that hard to spot.

Sharpay was taken aback, but she caught up to him and gave him a cold glare. Maybe letting Ryan stay was a cherry on top of her pancake layers of catastrophe, she didn't need to be told twice that she hadn't been making the smartest choices these past few years.

"That's not fair"

Ryan finally looked at her. Sharpay was vulnerable, ready to untie soon and what was inside was a package of a broken girl feeling alone and overwhelmed, "I had to do what I did to survive"

Some people rolling their trolleys filled with bags and luggage, took a second look at them but none seemed to care. More so because they didn't recognize Sharpay covered up in black turtleneck, jeans and sunglasses and Ryan, the brother who never claim a celebrity status, was fuming with anger. No one wants to be caught in the middle of that.

"You didn't have to do everything" Ryan reasoned. He was beginning to regret that he even brought it up.

"Yes I did" Sharpay snapped, her voice raised. She also didn't want to have this conversation in a middle of open parking lot. She quickly shoved Ryan's stuff into the backseat of her car - glad that her brother still had the logic to do his part. That's when Sharpay realized he hadn't packed light, but she didn't think this was the best time to ask.

How long did he plan to stay anyway?

She got into the driver's seat and shoved the keys as Ryan got into the passenger's seat. She inhaled a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white, "You were perfectly fine with the scholarship at Juliard" Sharpay's tone was calm and quiet. "While I, without the help of Daddy's money was a worthless high school graduate that needed to get a wake up call"

The engine lowly rumbled to life as she proceeded, "It wouldn't be fair to ask you throwing your chances away. Just because I no longer can continue my studies when dad died doesn't mean you have to. You earned the scholarship and I have to earn a living. U of A was not an option and-" Sharpay paused - prying the right word from her brain, but when she couldn't find one, she just said, "I did what I had to do"

Ryan sigh was audible in the mid silence between the twins, "Let's just-" Ryan paused and decided to say something different, "You don't have to anymore, Shar"

Her head snapped in a split second, between her twin and the road in front of her. This, got Ryan to go on, "You don't have to do everything anymore. Heck, you don't have to do anything anymore"

That was true - she had Vince's money in her bank account. She could do nothing for the rest of her life and be fine.

"You did earn a living with Vince" Ryan smiled at his sister, "However, he is gone now. He's in a better place and you can do a fresh new start"

She had so many options to do with her life she couldn’t decide, she could take a whole year off to the Bahamas and not do anything if she wants to. She could go back to school or help Ryan at his dance studio back in LA. She could pursue her old dreams to be a star on Broadway - she did live in New York.

"He was my husband" She paused and added, "For five years, that's a long time, Ry"

"But he is gone now, and you can turn to a new page of your life, a life without Vince"

She could do anything.

"Vince left me his basketball team"

The one thing she knew she couldn’t do is to own a basketball team with its captain clad in a number 14 New York Knicks jersey, because that would be an insurmountable mess.

"The one with Troy Bolton on it?"

She bitterly thought how her life had always circled on basketball and where that basketball is in tact, Troy Bolton had always been stitched onto.

"Yes"

Because I had worked extremely hard on this and been rummaging Google and Wikipedia for basketball facts (I didn’t even know what the heck was Larry O’Brien) - and that Troy is 5'8 but in the story Troy plays for the NBA and it's only sensible if he's at least 5'9 (think that he'd grown since East High). I hadn’t written in a long time, please review and let me know if the prologue is interesting enough to be continued (: