There's No People Like Show People
author's notes: obviously, High School Musical belongs to Disney. Now that that's out of the way: this is really something I wrote because I read too many stories in this fandom, and then saw a commercial. The relationship between Ryan and Sharpay is kind of intriguing when you think of it. Neither of them have any friends, so... they must be friends with each other. Okay. I'll stop talking now.
Actually, one more thing:
This is not incestuous. I mean, if you really truly want to take it that way, go ahead, but I really truly did not write it for that purpose. It is merely a glimpse at their sibling relationship as friends.
there's no people like show people they smile when they are low.
- Annie Get Your Gun, "There's No Business like Show Business"
Sometimes, Sharpay thinks it must be harder for Ryan to wake up every morning, knowing what the day will be like, and put on his impeccably matched ensembles, style his hair and plaster a smile on his face. Then again, sometimes Ryan thinks the same of Sharpay.
Hushed words as they pass through the hallway sting in their memories, even days later.
They never go to parties. They never just "hang out". They barely know their fellow students, despite how their fellow students assume to know them.
And so she flips her hair and pops her hip a little further out. He straightens his back and readjusts the strap on his bag. It's better to ignore it. It's easier not to say anything.
That is why they love the theatre. In the theatre, they are the prettiest, the most talented, the best. Sharpay and Ryan Evans are co-presidents of the drama club, and they are a force to be reckoned with. In the theatre, they can be stars, they can be lovers, and they can be gods. They can be whoever they want to be.
In the theatre, the words "bitch" and "fag" are replaced by the single moniker of "diva". Hip hop songs with lyrics that they have never understood become show tunes written by George and Ira Gershwin, and the only gangs they know of are in West Side Story. Photos of them starring in various shows surround the front entryway to the theatre in recognition of their hard work; it is alright for Ryan's arm to fall over his sister's shoulder, but only when she lets him.
But they cannot stay in there forever; they have to go to class. Ryan has to struggle through reading aloud in English, and Sharpay must verify trigonometric identities when she'd much rather be singing "Bop to the Top", a vision in turquoise. They have to sit at their lunch table with people who do not really like them, and they have to go home to parents who do not understand their constant, obsessive rehearsing.
"Why don't you go out with your friends, kids?" their mother will ask. Sharpay will shoot off an almost-rehearsed answer, that if they're ever going to be famous, they have to work, and wasting their prime age at parties and basketball games would be fruitless.
So when she has washed off all her makeup and stripped herself all of her designer clothes and jewelry, she sometimes crawls into Ryan's bed at night and cries into his shoulder. And he softly rubs her hair, kisses the top of her head, and tells her it's alright, because no matter how alone they are, they will always have this.
They will always have appointments with their rehearsal pianist, and hours of coordinating costumes and outfits together. They will always have impromptu line rehearsals in the kitchen, and morning workouts together to the Original Broadway Cast recording of Wicked. They will always have their love of the theatre.
They will always have their love for each other.
Review, s'il vous plait.