Breathe.

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a brief portrait of Sharpay Evans, post graduation.

author's notes: I literally have not written anything in two years, but if you liked it you should read my old stuff too (although it was all written before High School Musical 2 was even released!) Please let me know if you like this. Love!

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breathe.

she can feel his breath slowly brushing up against her forehead as he sleeps. She trickles her fingers along the bend in his elbow, feeling the rough edges of his unmoisturized skin with her perfectly manicured nails. He rolls over to his back and she nudges herself into the crook of his arm, and he mutters something - half sleeping and half waking.

She breathes in, half smiling and half frowning. She never thought she'd end up here, not sleeping quietly in this room - half failure and half not. There is no final curtain, there is no thunderous applause, no defying gravity for Sharpay Evans. This is not her dream - her dream was everything: the lights, the paparazzi, the fame, the glory. No, no, this is not her dream. But she's happy.

This is day in and day out. Daily texts and weekly phone calls from her brother, whom she cannot help but be jealous of. Class at 9AM and rehearsals every night. It's being so tired at the end of the day that she sometimes sleeps through her morning work out ritual. It's snuggling late at night into Zeke's arms and smelling the bouquet of baked goods on his milky smooth skin. It's her sensible walking to class shoes-

it's losing who she had created - it's becoming who she is.

she breathes out, she's happy.

fin.