i've been dreaming of a true love's kiss.

Entry the nineteenth.

2009-04-20T10:24:28Z

Hey all! It's been a while, huh? :)

Title: In Berkeley
Author: left_to_leave
Rating: almost PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Troy, Sharpay, mentions of Troy/Gabriella and Jimmie/Sharpay, and one-sided (so far) Troy/Sharpay
Summary: Troy is enjoying college life in Berkeley, CA, until he discovers that Sharpay has recently transferred there after making a few big mistakes back home in New Mexico.
Author's Notes: This is just the first chapter in a longer work. I have an idea of where I want it to go and how I want it to end, but who knows where the characters will take me. :) Constructive criticism is encouraged and very much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own any High School Musical characters and I am not making any profit from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Maybe we could catch a movie sometime, or get coffee?"

"That sounds really fun, but I should probably tell you: I already have a girlfriend."

"Oh."

"Don't get me wrong, you're a great girl, but I'm taken. I'm so sorry."

Troy Bolton was used to being the boy that every girl had a crush on. He was used to deflecting girl after girl after girl who tried to wedge herself between him and Gabriella. He was used to coming up with on-the-spot rejections that were simultaneously sweet and tragic, heartfelt and generic.

College wasn't any different, so far.

His classes were harder, of course. That was different, at least. It was tough being away from Gabriella for longer periods of time; another difference. It was strange and exciting and horrifying and wonderful to live in a dorm with a roommate and a meal plan and his very own laundry card, and all the millions of differences between college and home, but he was loving every second of it.

On Monday mornings at 9:00 a.m., Troy would lazily stumble out of bed, pull on a shirt, brush his teeth, and head across campus for Introduction to Politics and Government. He would always arrive ten minutes late and recieve a disapproving but impersonal look from Professor Linton. After class, he would reach for the cell phone in his sweats pocket and smile when he saw that he had a text message from Gabriella. He would text her back and grin like an idiot for the remainder of the day.

This Monday morning was very different. Troy went to class, late as usual, but was greeted by an empty classroom and a note on the whiteboard from Professor Linton, stating that class was cancelled for the day. Troy pumped his fist in the air, proclaiming victory, and began the trek back to his dorm room. He planned to use the extra time to sleep some more, as he had gotten back late from his weekend at Stanford with Gabriella. Yes, he decided, sleep was a great idea.

Instead, he was shaken from his planning and daydreaming and remembering Gabriella's soft hands in his hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of pink that he vaguely recalled seeing every day of his elementary, middle, and high school career, but he just couldn't place exactly what it was. Out of nowhere, the unidentified object had smacked into his side: he turned his head and met face to face with Sharpay Evans.

"Troy," she said, taken aback. "What are you doing here?"

What was he doing here? He should be asking her that! "I go here," he replied, completely bewildered. "What are you doing here?"

"I just transferred from U of A." She looked him over. "This is weird."

She had taken the words straight from his mouth. "Sharpay Evans. At UC Berkeley. With me," he mused aloud, trying to make sense of the words tumbling in his brain.

They stared each other down for a few minutes, not quite sure what to do or say. Troy had two very distinct, very different memories of this girl. One was from elementary and middle school, when she was a sweetheart, with only inklings of the diva that would one day emerge. The other was just that: the diva. One was the memory of his best friend in kindergarten. The other was the memory of the girl who had caused him the most trouble with his girlfriend. Sharpay Evans. He had an interesting history with Sharpay Evans.

"I guess I should get to class," she said slowly, breaking the silence. She shifted her weight, waiting for a response, though she didn't know what kind of response she was expecting.

"Yeah, sure. Class."

For a moment, she looked like kindergarten Sharpay: a little girl with big dreams in an even bigger world. Then she spoke. "We probably won't even see each other, thank God. It's a big campus." She was high school Sharpay again. All that changed was the place: like a sitting duck, ready to be conquered. "See ya!"

The town of Berkeley didn't know the kind of danger it currently had, waiting in the wings of the University. Berkeley wouldn't know what hit it.

"Bye, Sharpay."

Despite the weirdness, Troy didn't think about her for the rest of the day.

-----

It was Sharpay Evans' first day at a new school, and already she was feeling very small. She clutched a map of the campus in her hand, but she still had no idea where she was. She bustled about, a blur of pink and sequins contrasting against the concrete that was UC Berkeley, trying to find her way, or at least a familiar landmark where she could stop to find her bearings in this amazing, crazy world that was now her home. Everything had to be perfect. She would make it so.

Fate was not on her side this morning. In fact, Fate was playing a very cruel trick on her.

Well, if Sharpay was going to be honest -- which only happened somewhere buried in her innermost thoughts -- she had kind of brought this upon herself. The University of Albuquerque wasn't her first choice for college, but she had somehow wound up there, and it had felt strangely right for that first semester. She still lived in her parents' house, she was doing exceptionally well in her classes, and she had a job at her former high school, helping out in the drama department. She wasn't attending Julliard, or NYU, or even taking a year off to test her wings along Broadway, like she had always imagined herself doing after high school -- but where she had ended up just seemed right.

Until, somehow, it wasn't.

She had broken the rules. She had allowed herself to get into a relationship that was, to put it nicely, frowned upon. In empty hallways and darkened crevices of the theater, she met up with Jimmie Zara.

She had only recently turned eighteen, but it didn't change the fact that she was technically an adult, employed by the school, and was spending all her free time with one of her fifteen-year-old students. But there was something about "Rocketman" and his stupid nickname that she couldn't keep herself away from.

He had accidentally been elected Sophomore Class Representative. He had accidentally been cast in the lead role in East High's next musical. And he had accidentally stolen Sharpay's heart about six months earlier, when he accidentally went from Troy's understudy to "Troy" and accidentally ruined Sharpay's big opportunity as "Gabriella," which she was still mildly bitter about.

If she was going to be honest -- because honesty her new favorite thing, apparently -- she still hadn't gotten over Troy. It was a daily battle. Being with Jimmie helped, but the pain of losing Troy and never having Troy in the first place thudded in the back of her consciousness at a slow but constant pace. But being with Jimmie helped, so she stuck herself to Jimmie.

It wasn't right, and she knew it, and she knew she had to break things off, but when he smiled at her and said in that stupid boy voice of his, "What's up, Shar?," the speech she had memorized in her head somehow leaked out of her ears and all she understood was Jimmie. And then they snuck off to a broom closet somewhere and she let him touch her in more places than she had ever allowed anyone to touch her, and it felt good and horrible and right.

But it wasn't right, and somebody by the name of Chad Danforth found out and threatened to tell on her. So she transferred schools, moved to a new state, and now here she was, scrambling to find her footing on this new campus, with no friends and no job and no idea what she was going to do next.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, so she calmed down for a moment and sat on a bench. She had a new text.

Plz call or txt me back asap. I rlly need 2 talk 2 u Shar. Love u.

Jimmie again. The kid couldn't spell, but somehow that made him all the more adorable. And she hated that. She deleted the text.

She decided to take one last look at her campus map, and headed in the direction that she hoped was north, towards a building that she hoped was Birge Hall, but slammed into something soft, but solid. A person.

Not just any person. Troy Bolton.

Sharpay gulped. She was getting so good at forgetting him, and now here he was to spoil all her progress.

"Troy," she said, barely able to breathe. "What are you doing here?"

He seemed completely unfazed. He would be unfazed. They may have been best friends from kindergarten to fourth grade, but nothing ever fazed The Great Bolton. He deigned to reply: "I go here. What are you doing here?"

"I just transferred from U of A." She looked him over. He looked exactly the same as he did on the day he came over to say goodbye. She thought that had been it, the last time he would ever stand in front of her and peer into her eyes and shatter her insides with the knowledge of what never was and what never could be. What was she going to say to him?

"This is weird."

Smooth, Sharpay. Very smooth.

His face was almost expressionless, but with a hint of irony. "Sharpay Evans. At UC Berkeley. With me."

Of course, it was just one big joke to him. She was just Sharpay, nothing more to him. She never could compete with his multitude of other girls throughout the years. Now wouldn't be any different, especially with Gabriella in the picture. "I guess I should get to class," she said slowly, breaking the silence. She shifted her weight, waiting for a response, though she didn't know what kind of response she was expecting.

"Yeah, sure. Class."

Another joke. Always a joke. She would just have to respond accordingly. She had to make him think she didn't care. Maybe then it would be true. Maybe then she wouldn't care. "We probably won't even see each other, thank God. It's a big campus. See ya!"

She scampered to the nearest women's restroom and cried.

-----

{To be continued...}

Entry the seventeenth.

2008-03-11T05:49:14Z

Title: Evade
Author: left_to_leave
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Miley, Jake/Miley
Summary: Miley attempts to deal with the decision she made with Jake, but finds her once-strong character is crumbling before her very eyes.
Author's Notes: This is a companion piece to Fervor. It came to me in a random spurt of inspiration -- it seemed to me to be the natural course of events for the two of them; however, I'm still not completely sold on the ending. Thoughts? Constructive criticism is encouraged and very much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own any Hannah Montana characters and I am not making any profit from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

She couldn't face him.

Not now. Not ever.

Not after what he had seen. What she had allowed him to see. What she had allowed him to do.

Her arms were jelly, and it took every bit of energy she could muster to merely hold up a pencil and scribble "Miley Stewart" on her history quiz. Even that simple action became a chore -- her name came out jumbled and smudged, resembling "Mildew Stoplight" instead. Any other day, she would have laughed at her misdemeanor, imagining an intersection covered in nondescript green sludge, and taken her eraser to the page to start over.

Today was different, though. Today, she couldn't start over. Not her schoolwork, and not... this. Her life, or whatever it had suddenly become.

She attempted to calm herself down, closing her eyes and just breathing. Closing her eyes did absolutely nothing, she soon found out. When she closed her eyes, all she saw -- all she felt, heard, tasted, smelled -- was him. That face, those hands. She had to shake her head to wake herself up.

Stupidly, she had let this happen. She thought she was ready. She thought she knew what she was doing. She thought it was love.

But sex didn't equal love. I doubt it ever did, she thought.

It seemed like a cruel joke, sex. In the movies, it looked like the perfect end to a perfect love story. She thought she had that perfect love story; now, she just needed the ending.

She got her ending, and it failed her.

-----

Is this happening too fast?, she wondered, fleetingly, as her dress unzipped and came up over her head, and she was exposed to Jake, finally, completely .... She barely had time to think any further: in one swift motion, Jake had her swooped up in his arms and he made a break for his bedroom, the two of them laughing like children, not quite sure what they were getting themselves into, but overly excited to get there.

He laid her gently on the covers, kissing her every place he could reach, letting his hands take their own course. She did the same, wanting to take in and commit to memory everything about him: his shoulders, back, hips, everything. Neither seemed to have any rhythm or rhyme, no clear path or idea, just now, now, now. Here, there, everywhere.

He was on top of her now, looking into her eyes with wild, fiery passion and love and desire and happiness and fear, at last finding some kind of pattern, some kind of groove. She couldn't contain herself, couldn't find any way to express this sudden burst of excitement, pain, surprise and joy. All she could do was emit random squeaks and sounds she couldn't even identify and had never heard herself make.

It was over in a few minutes, and they rolled onto their backs, not sure what to make of this newfound territory, but exhilarated just the same.

-----

It had been several days since The Encounter, as she thought of it in her mind, capitals and all. He didn't call the next day, or the day after. It was agony, not hearing from him. Especially after they'd... she couldn't even think the word anymore. It was never a big deal before. Now, though -- now, it just made her stomach churn and threaten to push her breakfast up and out.

Still, she was having a hard time thinking of anything else.

She stared hard into the blue lines in her notebook, hoping that if she stared hard enough, she would be able to focus all her thoughts and energy into the task at hand.

16. Define and describe the 18th Amendment and its circumstances. When and why was it repealed? Be specific.

She knew this, definitely. It was right there in the forefront of her brain... it was just a matter of pushing through to the information. Okay, US Constitution, eighteenth amendment. Something about... pro-something. Prototype. No, obviously not. Miley, get it together! Focus. Do not think of him.

She sighed, peering around the classroom. Where was he? They had this class together, but he hadn't shown up yet.

Somehow, she found herself moving about her day, like a ghost or a robot, looking and acting vaguely like Miley, but never really there. Her existence had spun around and turned inward, so caught up in her feelings and her mind that her body shifted into autopilot. She meandered around the school in this default mode, finally arriving at math class.

They took this class together too, but he was still nowhere in sight.

She wasn't sure why she was so intent on finding him. She didn't want to see him. She couldn't. She couldn't, knowing that he knew more about her than she had ever intended. Every time she thought about their eventual confrontation, she felt the bile rise just that much more.

But she really wanted to see him. She needed to see him. Maybe it would prove that things were still okay.

The final bell rang at last. Safely inside Jackson's truck and off of school property, she slid her cell phone out of her pocket and checked her text message inbox. Nothing. She dialed voicemail. Nothing.

"What's up, Miles?" her brother asked in his usual, completely oblivious manner.

She sighed, tears pushing at her eyelids, ready to spill. "Nothing," she said. But she wasn't referring to Jackson's question.

-----

She slipped her dress over her head, her skin suddenly soft and sensitive. The zipper caught on a thread and she yanked. She didn't know why -- she had never felt more comfortable and at peace than just minutes ago -- but she wanted to get out. She wanted to be gone, away, light years from this place. Anywhere but here.

His back was to her. He'd pulled his pants back on, but his unclothed back gleamed in the moonlight streaming from the window.

He spoke softly. She had so many thoughts bouncing against her skull, she didn't hear. "What, Jake?" she asked cautiously. She wished he would turn around, look at her.

"What did we do?"

-----

She couldn't bring herself to come downstairs for dinner.

Her father and brother came upstairs periodically to try to coax her down, but to no avail.

"Give her some time," Robbie said quietly as the two padded down the hallway.

"Yeah," Jackson half-heartedly replied. "She'll be back to her old self in no time."

Both knew it wasn't true, but it was nice to believe, if only for a second.

-----

Sleep evaded her for hours. She wondered what he was doing, what he was thinking about. Was he awake, too, heartbroken and listless as she?

The worst of it was, she didn't know why she was feeling this way. She should be happy and fulfilled and grateful and totally and completely in love. But all she felt was alone and hurt and exhausted.

She'd given him everything. She'd bared not only her skin, but her soul -- she'd offered every little piece, and he'd taken it.

She had nothing else, because he had everything.

She rolled to her other side, her skin tingling and feeling sensitive again. That happened once in a while, when she was feeling particularly confused and broken.

No, she realized. That wasn't her skin. Her cell phone was vibrating.

Jake, the screen read.

After days of anticipating his call, wishing to speak with him, wishing to clear the air, wishing she just knew a reason why this whole situation was so much bigger than she'd ever imagined -- she couldn't answer the phone. She wasn't ready.

Then again, she thought she was ready for the biggest step she would ever physically take, and her judgment turned out to be the opposite of what she thought to be true.

"Jake," she croaked out. Her voice had abandoned her.

"Hi, Miley," the familiar voice crackled on the other end.

Neither spoke for a minute.

"Where were you?" she asked, fighting back tears.

"I don't know. I mean... I was sick. Kind of. I don't know," she heard him cough unconvincingly.

Another awkward silence. Her heart pounded violently against her ribcage, shouting but silent, ready to explode with anticipation and dread. At length, he spoke, his tone wavering and each syllable measured and overly controlled.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Is your father aware? Of what we did?"

In any other mindset, she would have scoffed at his attempt at calm, rational professionalism. Subconsciously, she found herself doing the same thing. "No," she said in the same calculated rhythm. "I don't think so, anyway." She didn't know why she was keeping up with this pretense, this body language -- arms crossed, chin up; he couldn't see her.

She heard a sigh from Jake's end. "Oh. Good. I guess. Mine don't either. I don't think."

She had the overwhelming urge to hold his hand. Unable to, she gripped her phone tighter, pressed it closer to her ear.

"Jake." Her voice broke, and along with it, the will keeping her tears back. "Don't you love me?"

"Of course I do, Miley," he replied urgently.

She sat up against the headboard of her bed, trying to gather strength.

"Why didn't you call?"

He didn't answer.

"Jake," she sniffled.

"I was scared. I was scared of what we did. I don't know. I don't really know why... I just... I was scared."

Miley felt a strange sense of relief begin to prickle inside.

"You were?"

"Yeah. I was."

"Me, too."

"Oh." She heard him sigh. It sounded like a good sigh though.

"I thought -- I thought maybe you would leave me. And then you didn't call, and you didn't come to school -- I thought you were gone. For good."

"I almost was," he said candidly in a low voice. "I was gonna convince my parents to move or something. I don't know."

"But you won't? You won't abandon me?"

"I could never go through with it, Miley. You know I couldn't."

She smiled a little.

Entry the sixteenth.

2008-01-30T08:44:12Z

Title: Fervor
Author: left_to_leave
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Jake/Miley
Summary: Jake and Miley get to know each other a little better after a movie premiere.
Warnings: Implications of intimacy and sex; nothing terribly explicit, but definitely not for the kiddies.
Author's Notes: This is my first attempt at writing any sort of intimacy beyond kissing. Hopefully it came across how I wanted it to; there were certain things I tried to avoid. Overall, I'm happy with it. Constructive criticism is encouraged and very much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own any Hannah Montana characters and I am not making any profit from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

-----

"What a night!" Jake exclaimed, tossing his hair to rid it of the stray raindrops that clung to the strands.

Miley slid her pea coat off of her shoulders, shivering. "Turn up the heat, Jake!" she begged, shutting his apartment door. "This place is an igloo."

He darted across the room, rubbing his hands together, and switched on the heater. "There we go."

She hung her coat the last hook on the wall, as she always did, right next to Jake's. She sighed, the warm air rising from the heater and blowing her nearly frozen arms. The color began to return to her cheeks.

"Better?" Jake asked. He swept her up into his arms and kissed her.

"A little," she replied coyly. He smiled at her unabashedly.

It was times like this when she thought, How did I end up with Prince Charming? and wondered how in the world someone so perfect could want someone as imperfect as herself. It was only when they were together that either felt comfortable letting down the usual pretenses.

It was only with her that Jake wouldn't pay meticulous attention to his hair, his facial expressions, how often or loudly he laughed.

It was only with him that Miley would let her southern accent really take flight, and let her curls hang in a frizzy, wet mess after it rained.

Miley couldn't help but grin stupidly whenever he grinned goofily. She giggled at that word. It was the only one that could truly describe Jake's essence: goofy.

Especially now, with his hair matted in random places, his hands freezing but slowly warming to her touch, his smile wide and full of adoration. He loves me. I'll never know why.

She sighed contentedly as they both collapsed on the couch in the middle of Jake's new apartment.

"Tonight was perfect," she said, her heart rate slowing as she became completely comfortable in Jake's arms.

He made a noise that indicated his agreement. He played with her fingers, kissing her cheek lightly. She smiled and kissed his mouth. Those are better than cheek kisses, she giggled internally. He kissed her right back, sinking against her a little bit with enthusiasm. She ended up sliding back beneath his weight, her back sticking so slightly to the leather fabric of the couch.

She wasn't sure how or when, but their innocent play took a sudden turn into... well, she wasn't quite sure what it turned into, but she sure was enjoying it, and it was happening so rapidly, she barely had time to register the change. His hand, so strong and sure on her hip, slid its way slowly up her body, up and down her side, warming the skin beneath the cool, thin fabric of her dress. His body became slightly more rigid as he leaned closer into her. She kicked off her heeled shoes and entwined one bare leg with his.

She gasped, her fingers running through his hair, as his hands wandered over her more, discovering her flat stomach and soft, lean back. His lips continued to kiss her mouth, with more fervor than she'd ever felt him express, and she kissed back hard, becoming so familiar and blissful with the feeling that she wanted more and more and couldn't bear to stop. His hands slid from her back over her bare shoulders, and, hesitantly, he found the curve of her breast and cupped it. He chuckled against their kiss, not quite sure what to make of the new territory, but very grateful to have made the discovery all the same.

She had to admit, she liked having his hand there. She also had to admit, she wanted him to know her like that. This wasn't a new development, really; she'd spent a few dark, lonely nights thinking of him, his strong hands, and the places she'd like them to go.

Now, here, on his leather couch, her clearest fantasies were about to become a reality.

"Jake," she sighed. She'd meant for it to come out low and sexy, but her voice barely registered, coming out in a puff of air. Either way, he seemed to enjoy it. Taking a risk, his hand slid over her breast, covering it, and he caressed it, slowly. When she started breathing heavier, and he could have sworn he heard her squeak softly, he knew he'd chosen the right maneuver. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later: she took his other hand in hers, guiding it up beneath her dress. Turn up the heat, Jake, her previous words echoed in her mind.

He replicated the motions, and, being careful not to come across as too eager, he used one hand to dexterously unclasp her bra. She smiled against his lips, picking up on the hint.

Is this going too fast?, she wondered, fleetingly, as her dress unzipped and came up over her head, and she was exposed to Jake, finally, completely, hoping against all hope that he had imagined this moment as often as she had. She barely had time to think any further: in one swift motion, Jake had her swooped up in his arms and he made a break for his bedroom, the two of them laughing like children, not quite sure what they were getting themselves into, but overly excited to get there.

Entry the fifteenth.

2008-01-12T08:31:28Z

Hello, everyone! It's pretty late for me to be awake, but I felt the need to update.

This week, I'd like to recommend an intriguing and well-written fanfic in The Office fandom: Song of Myself, by cah215. There are four parts so far (one, two, three, and four), and it is updated at theoffice_fic, a great community for -- you guessed it -- Office fanfics. Very cool!

Now for updates on my own work:
- I'm finished with 27 of my 50 sentences, for my Troy/Sharpay claim at 1sentence -- inching towards the finish line, but at least it's progress! I'm adding a short preview to this update: please let me know what you think!

-----

#02 - Cool
Winter is his favorite season because -- his friends would never let him live it down if they knew -- he loves the way the cool, brisk air whirls in her hair and brings a bright pink blush to her cheeks.

#20 - Picture
Sharpay keeps her favorite photograph taped up on her vanity mirror: it's the night of their first college party, where Troy is just this side of tipsy and is kissing her cheek as she holds a light beer in her hand; Gabriella is barely visible at the edge of the picture, fading into the background, her face slightly shocked.

#49 - Hunger
She spots him from across the cafeteria, her hormones threatening to rage beyond her control, but the moment fizzles when Gabriella spots him too, and runs over to plant a kiss on his cheek; Sharpay vaguely notices a loss of her appetite.

-----

- The sequel to Beginnings is going pretty well. It will be shorter, and I don't know if I'd really classify it as a "sequel" anymore; maybe it's more of a one-shot, inspired by the previous fic. I don't think I'll really push it into becoming anything bigger, but I'm enjoying creating my own personal canon for Pam, so I'm not sure if I'm done there yet. We'll see.

- Miley and Jake refuse to leave me alone, so I'm trying to work out a Hannah Montana fic until I come up with something that feels right.

- That Sharpay "five things" fanfic is in its final stages! It should be posted fairly soon.

That's about it. Thanks to the few that have been reading and reviewing; it means a lot just to know my writing isn't floating around aimlessly in cyberspace! ;)

Good night!

Entry the fourteenth.

2008-01-03T23:11:42Z

Hello, all. I hope you all had a great holiday season, and that this coming year is a great one.

First off, I would just like to point you in the direction of a few cool drabbles I recently read, written by nevcolleil. I think I'm going to be posting recommendations occasionally; I get so excited when I read something spectacular and I always feel the need to share with others. :)

Second, just a couple updates on my own fiction:
- I signed up for Troy/Sharpay at 1sentence, and I have 21/50 finished. It's tougher than I anticipated!
- I totally scrapped that Jake/Miley fanfic I was working on. It just wasn't working out no matter what I did with it, so I'm going to give it time and revisit the idea later.
- I'm working on a sort-of-sequel to Beginnings, so we'll see how that goes.
- Still working on that Sharpay-centric fic I mentioned; I'm pretty excited about it. It follows that "five things" format, which is sort of the trend right now, but I'm really digging it.

I believe that's everything... I've shoved quite a bit on my plate, as you can see. :)

Have a great day everyone!

Entry the thirteenth.

2007-12-17T23:57:14Z

I'm simply reposting this so I can have it in my archives. It was previously posted here for the second challenge at hsmchallenge. I honestly have no idea what happened to that community -- it seems to have lost steam already, so I figure it's safe to post by now.

Title: Happiest
Author: left_to_leave
Rating: G
Pairings/Characters: Sharpay
Summary: While preparing for a big audition, Sharpay's nerves are calmed as she daydreams about her past.
Author's Notes: One of my favorite things to write are backstories -- I am so intrigued by how a character came to be the person they are. This is a taste of my own personal history for Sharpay. The challenge for this one was "strawberries". Constructive criticism is encouraged and very much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own any High School Musical characters and I am not making any profit from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

-----

"Ah, ah, ah, ah," Sharpay Evans vocalized into the mirror. "Ah, ah, ah, ah," she repeated, this time a key higher. And higher and higher.

"'Princess' again?" her brother Ryan interrupted, referring to the type of vocal exercise she was performing.

"Yes," she replied, fluffing her hair and preparing to take it another key higher.

"You only do 'Princess' when you're really nervous," Ryan reminded her.

"No, I don't," she lied easily. "Ah, ah, ah --" her voice cracked on the highest note. "I'm never going to hit that note!" she sighed, exasperated and frustrated and just plain annoyed.

"Sure, you will. With practice, you'll get there."

Sharpay rolled her eyes. Sure, sometimes it was comforting to hear her brother's words of wisdom, but most of the time it was simply exasperating, especially when it was unwanted, which was almost always.

"Go now," she snapped. "I need to nail this audition."

Ryan edged toward the bedroom door, about to leave. He paused for a moment, looking at his sister in the mirror's reflection. "Break a leg, sis."

"Ryan!" she growled, giving him an aggressive nudge out the door, slamming it in his face.

She turned back to her mirror, pressing the play button on her stereo. Her Les Miserables karaoke CD, worn with age and use, skipped for a moment on the first track; she bypassed a few tracks until she found the one she wanted, the one she'd practiced with about a thousand times since she first bought the CD at the age of seven.

"And now I'm all alone again, nowhere to turn, no one to go to... without a home, without a friend, without a face to say hello to... and now the night is near, and I can make believe he's here," she sang fluidly to her mirror's reflection, putting an extra bit of air into the last, lowest note.

"You're not honestly going to audition with On My Own, are you? It's incredibly overdone," Ryan's voice, rang out, effectively shattering the moment, and Sharpay's patience.

"What part of 'go away' did you not understand?" She slammed the door in his face once more. A moment later, the door squeaked open slightly. "And of course I'm not auditioning with that. It's just a warm-up. How much of an amateur do you think I am?" And then it shut again.

-----

Taking one large breath, Sharpay tried to relax.

However, relaxation was evading her today.

Today was her first true audition, for a college production. She was going to try to obtain the role of Lucy Harris, one of the lead female roles in the University of Albuquerque's production of the Jekyll & Hyde musical. This was the first time that the University's theater department was opening up auditions to neighboring high schools and colleges -- for recruitment purposes, the local newspaper had informed her.

Whatever reason the University was doing this... well, Sharpay could care less why the opportunity had presented itself, just that it was there. This could mean big, wonderful, life-changing things for Sharpay if she got a part -- any part.

Everything she'd ever done led up to this moment. All her work in community theater and the stage at East High -- it meant nothing if she couldn't make it into this show. All the preparation of the past month -- it was in vain if they laughed her out of the room.

Sharpay shook her head; she couldn't let negative thinking get to her. Mind over matter, she thought to herself, inhaling another large breath.

She inhaled the scent of her favorite lotion. It smelled like strawberries. Sharpay sighed contentedly, calming instantly. The scent always brought her mind back to summers when she was a little girl. Summers when she had the world at her fingertips.

-----

Before her family started to regularly attend Lava Springs, she and Ryan spent many a summer out at the beach in front of Aunt Vivienne's house. She could recall clearly -- Ryan would always sit on the right side of the backseat, she on the left. When they pulled up to the house, Ryan would fling his door open first; she would follow immediately and catch up to him quickly as they raced up the steps -- one, two, three, four -- to see who was fast enough to reach the doorbell first. They kept track each year: when the twins were thirteen years old, the score was four for Ryan, and three for Sharpay. She had beat him that year, relishing in her victory: "In your face, Ry!"

That was the last year they spent the summer at Aunt Viv's.

It was a good summer, she reminisced, that thirteenth year. She had her first kiss there, with the boy across the bay. Peter Adams, she remembered, smiling a silly grin to herself in the mirror. They met when they were nine, when his family moved in. She remembered his strawberry blond hair, green eyes, and excessive smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He had the goofiest grin she'd ever seen, with crooked teeth, until his braces fixed them the year they turned eleven.

She vaguely wondered what happened to him.

Turning her attention back to the project at hand, she shoved the memories out of her mind. Mind over matter, she reminded herself. The audition was only three days away. She needed to nail the big finish to her audition piece. She brought out her sheet music and popped in her Miss Saigon karaoke CD.

As she practiced, her eyes zipping along the sheet music as she kept time with the CD, her thoughts didn't seem to want to let her off the hook. She kept getting distracted, remembering the feel of the sand in her toes when she, Ryan, and Peter tried to dig themselves to China, the wind in her hair when Peter's brother Charlie drove them to the liquor store across town... and strawberries, always strawberries... they were Aunt Viv's favorite fruit. She always had a supply, ready to be mashed up into cereal or a shortcake. The scent permeated the house, settling on every conceivable object, in every hard-to-reach crevice, even.

Yes, those had been good days.

Focus, Sharpay reprimanded herself, singing louder.

-----

That night was a difficult one, at first.

Sharpay tossed and turned, her thoughts pelting her with What if?s. One thought led to another; she couldn't stop them.

What if I completely suck at my audition? What if I don't get into Julliard? What if I don't get in anywhere? What will I do if I can't be a professional performer? Would I teach? No, of course not. I don't have that kind of patience. And no way am I working in the food industry... disgusting. Oh, crap, I have a trigonometry test tomorrow and I didn't study. Not that I'm going to need trig in life anyway. When am I ever going to use FOIL? Except for cooking. Oh, who am I kidding? I'll never have to cook for myself. I'll be rich and famous and the help will do that for me. Unless I don't get rich and famous... that's stupid, of course I will. This one little audition doesn't change a thing, right? ...I'm going to make it. I'm sure of it. I've gotten the lead role in every play since kindergarten! I'm Sharpay freakin' Evans!

She began to relax then, reassuring herself. She settled on one side of her body, her mind quieting down a bit.

The smell of her favorite lotion wafted through her bedroom. Without recognizing any conscious change, her thoughts veered back to her favorite summers.

-----

Ryan always claimed the top bunk; secretly, that was fine with Sharpay (whose greatest fears included heights and Grandmother Kathleen's dentures). She only put up a fight so she wouldn't look like a scaredy cat, as her cousin Mitchell was intent on proving. They were there sometimes, too: her cousins Mitchell, two years older, and Logan, a year younger. She always wished for girl cousins, and hoped year after year for another girl to move into one of the surrounding beach houses, just to have a break from all the boisterousness once in a while, but it never happened.

It was fine, though. She loved boys, and loved the attention she got from being the only girl, but enough was enough sometimes. She needed girl talk and the strong scent of nail polish remover. After all, playing Indiana Jones was only exciting for a certain amount of time.

Still, she felt that she fit in perfectly with the boys. After a long, hard afternoon of Power Rangers (she was the pink ranger, of course), the four Evans kids would topple into Aunt Viv's kitchen, leaving a trail of dirt in their wake, just in time for a succulent dessert of her infamous strawberry shortcake sundae -- strawberry shortcake surrounded with vanilla ice cream and topped with whipped cream, caramel and chocolate sauces, and rainbow sprinkles. Her taste buds watered just thinking of it.

-----

Those summers were the happiest Sharpay had ever been. She lived pressure-free.

During the school year, she and Ryan were too busy being little adults to really let loose and be kids. It was partially Sharpay's fault -- she was so engrossed in performing ever since she was randomly cast as Pocahontas in her kindergarten class Thanksgiving play. She begged her mother to drive her to the community theater after school for rehearsals day after day, dragging a somewhat reluctant Ryan along.

After a while, Ryan caught the performance bug, and somewhere around sixth grade, the twins pushed forward at full throttle.

There was never any stop to it since then. It was all theatricals, all the time.

Except at Aunt Vivienne's.

Her half-conscious self made a mental note to return to Cape Cod that summer before she drifted off to sleep.

-----

Entry the twelfth.

2007-12-12T06:54:06Z

Title: Beginnings
Author: left_to_leave
Rating: G
Pairings/Characters: Pam, Roy/Pam
Summary: 15-year-old Pam Beesly, having just transferred to a new high school, takes a chance at the homecoming football game.
Author's Notes: It's pretty short and sweet, and this is how I imagine Pam and Roy at the beginning of their relationship. I couldn't find any information anywhere about Pam and Roy's high school, so I did a little googling for high schools in Scranton and just picked one... hee hee. Constructive criticism is encouraged and very much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own any The Office characters and I am not making any profit from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

-----

"Come on, Pam," Annie whines. "It'll be fun, I promise."

Pam gives her new friend an exasperated look. "I don't think so." She slides a strand of hair behind her ear and attempts to turn her attention back to the English homework she is reviewing before class starts.

Annie won't have it. "What do you have to lose?" she asks, her blond hair bouncing along with her. "Please? Please come?"

Pam really doesn't think this is a good idea. First off, she's a new student here, and she doesn't know anyone except Annie Cooper, the social butterfly who has decided to befriend her for some reason unbeknownst to Pam. Second, she hates football in any capacity -- watching a game on TV or, God forbid, actually playing holds no appeal to her whatsoever. Third, she should be spending her time helping her family unpack their belongings.

Annie doesn't seem to understand, or care, that Pam has responsibilities to attend to. Since the first day, Annie has been trying to drag Pam along to all kinds of activities, to no avail. Pam appreciates Annie's attempts to include her, but really, she likes to be solitary.

"I don't think my parents will let me. We still have a lot to do around the house," Pam half-lies.

Annie obviously doesn't believe her. As Miss Felton calls the class to attention, Annie whispers, "We'll see about that."

-----

Annie's older sister picks them up from the sidewalk in front of West Scranton High School in her ugly green Oldsmobile.

"Marion, this weekend can you drive me and Pam to the homecoming football game?" Annie asks not a moment after they've put their seat belts on in the backseat.

Marion scoffs. "On a Friday night? Are you kidding? Like I would be caught dead at a football game, let alone on a Friday night. I have plans anyway."

Annie whines, "But why? Come on!" Marion ignores her and Annie sulks the whole way to Pam's new house.

Annie gets out after Pam does, to Marion's annoyance, and leads her inside. They find Pam's mother in the kitchen, sorting kitchen utensils in the drawers.

"Hi, Mrs. Beesly!" Annie smiles brightly. Pam tries to plead with her mother with her eyes without Annie seeing, but Mrs. Beesly just looks confused.

"Hello," she says kindly.

"I'm Annie Cooper, Pam's friend from school."

Mrs. Beesly smiles, and nods at Pam. "It's so nice to meet you! I've heard all about you, of course."

Annie looks pleased and smiles at Pam, who only sighs. She hasn't said a word about Annie to her family at all. Her mother is just being nice.

Annie wastes no time in asking the dreaded question. "I was just wondering if it would be okay for Pammy to come with a group of us to the homecoming game this Friday night," she says.

Pam's face flushes. First, Annie had called her Pammy, a nickname she'd always abhorred. Second, she had mentioned a group going to the game. She hadn't heard any mention of this group. Not only did she not hear about this alleged group, but now she would have to prepare herself for socializing with other people. It wasn't necessarily her strong point.

"Of course! That would be just fine."

Betrayed, Pam thinks to herself ruefully.

Annie smiles at Pam yet again. She can't seem to shut her mouth in any respect. "Great!" A horn honk blares out front. "I should get going. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Beesly! Bye, Pam! See you tomorrow!"

When the coast is clear, Pam collapses into the nearest kitchen chair. "Mother, why?" she wails melodramatically.

"It'll be good for you," her mom says simply.

-----

The day before the homecoming game comes as a shock to Pam's vision. Overnight, the school has become an explosion of royal blue and white. "Go Invaders!" signs are plastered all along the walls, and "Kill the Bruins!" is scrawled in chalk on the sidewalks.

Violent, Pam thinks as she heads to homeroom.

She sees Annie chatting animatedly with a group of girls across the hall; she breaks to the right in an evasive maneuver, but runs smack into a wall. Or at least, it feels like a wall to her. She looks up as she rubs her nose, which stings slightly from the collision.

Her eyes meet with someone else's green ones.

"Hey," Green-Eyed Boy greets her, trying to conceal a laugh.

"Hi. Sorry." Pam stands there stupidly. Come on, legs. Move!

"You dropped your..." he bends down slowly and picks up her sketch pad. "...Your, uh, notebook thingy."

Her cheeks tinge red as she grabs for it. "Thanks. Sorry, again."

She spins around and scurries in the other direction, mortified, praying that a hole will spontaneously appear in the ground and swallow her up.

Green-Eyed Boy calls something out to her, but the din of the hallway crashes against Pam's ears and his voice is lost.

-----

Annie has not forgotten about their plans for Friday night.

"See you later, Pammy!" she says as Pam hops out of Marion's car that afternoon. "We'll come get you at 5:30, so be ready!"

-----

She doesn't know why she's putting so much effort into choosing her outfit tonight. No one will notice her, really, except for Annie and possibly the other kids she will apparently be spending the evening with.

She knows she will be completely invisible, but somehow a daydream has burrowed into her brain and she can't extract it from the forefront of her thoughts. She envisions herself buying a lemonade at the snack stand, and a pair of green eyes seeing her from a few yards away, and the person owning those eyes striding over and taking her hand...

She shakes her head as if to erase the image, but it really has no effect and she still feels giddy over something that may not even happen. Probably won't happen, she reminds herself.

After much deliberation, Pam decides to wear her favorite green-striped knit sweater and long black skirt. She braids her hair in two pigtails. She even puts on a small heart necklace.

She brushes her teeth twice.

Not that I care about tonight, she reconciles with herself. I just want to look presentable.

The doorbell chimes and her mother's voice informs her that Annie is at the door.

Pam bounds down the stairs, but calms herself down and composes her face before she opens the door. She shouldn't be this excited; it's not like Green-Eyed Boy will be there, necessarily. Even if he will be, it's not like he will remember her at all. She reminds herself of this.

"Hi, Annie," she greets her friend. She can see a white mini-van parked in front of her house.

She allows Annie to pull her by the hand down the driveway to the mini-van. Once seated inside, Annie introduces her to Peter, Jared, Alexa, Dawn, Ryan, and Wendy. She vaguely recognizes them from school.

Peter turns the key in the ignition aggressively, and they're off.

-----

The band is playing at full force as Pam wanders around the bleachers. Somehow, she's found herself attached to Jared, or rather, Jared attached to her. His arm is hooked around her elbow and he's leading her up to the top of the stands after the others.

They sit down and wait for the game to start. Pam is bored already. Why was she excited about this again?

She stares off into space as Jared rambles on about the big homecoming dance tomorrow night, and is she going? With anyone? Maybe?

"What?" she asks.

"'Cause, well, I'm going, but I don't have a date or anything," Jared says, failing to be smooth as he tries to close his sweaty hand around hers.

"Oh. That's, um, that stinks. I don't think I'm going, though."

"Oh." Slowly, Jared unpeels his hand from hers and it ends up back in his own lap.

Honestly, all Pam can think about is her encounter with Green-Eyed Boy, and her secret daydream. She sighs and spies the snack stand from the corner of her eye. She considers getting a lemonade.

Not that she's expecting anything. She's just thirsty.

-----

"One lemonade, please."

"Make that two, please," Jared says from her side.

Pam sighs, a little defeated. He'd insisted on accompanying her.

"That's a dollar fifty," the guy behind the stand calculates. Pam reaches into her pocket, but Jared has already taken care of it.

"Thanks," she mumbles.

"No problem," he grins.

The game has begun by now, and back at her seat in the stands she can see the whole field.

Out of sheer boredom, she actually attempts to keep up with the action. Some guy from the other team kicks the ball, someone from their team intercepts, and then it all happens so fast, she's lost again, and gives up.

She's almost resigned this night to "completely hopeless" until a pair of green eyes catch hers. Startled, Pam's breath catches briefly as she takes in the eyes, the nose, the mouth, the broad chest wearing a West Scranton jersey. He's just taken off his helmet, and his hair is matted and sticking out in various places, and it's the most endearing thing she's ever seen.

He waves at her, and she waves back. They smile at each other, and the moment seems far too perfect to last.

And it doesn't, because Green-Eyed Boy is called back over to his team. He takes one last look at her and grins before he joins the huddle.

She can feel her mouth smile uncontrollably and at that moment, she can't seem to care how foolish she may look.

It's a good day, she decides.

-----

A strange wave of bravery seems to course through Pam's veins for the rest of the night.

She doesn't worry about looking stupid as she talks and jokes with Annie and her friends.

She doesn't care what anyone thinks as she shouts along with the cheerleaders.

She even breaks out her victory dance, without a single worry that she'll be judged.

Nothing can bring her down right now.

-----

Her courage is still fueling strong inside of her when the came is over. West Scranton High School won; the "Pig-Slop-Who-Cares-A" team piles on their bus and leaves in defeat. Pam even spots a red-headed Bishop O'Hara cheerleader crying into her football player boyfriend's arms, and almost feels bad, but can't because she is high on something, maybe oxygen, and things just keep going her way.

She and Annie are singing joyfully at the top of their lungs when she sees him.

Green-Eyed Boy is coming out of the locker room, sweaty and dirty and somehow beautiful, his helmet swinging in his hand.

She's surprised at herself for even considering acting on her half-formed thought, but there she is, strolling right up to the guy as if she's the most confident girl in school.

"Hi. I'm Pam."

Green-Eyed Boy seems taken aback, but he flashes his million-watt smile and replies, "I'm Roy."

She stands there. Maybe she should have thought this plan through a little. Before it can cross over into awkward, Roy speaks up.

"I liked your art."

Her eyes widen. She's never shown anyone her art before. It takes a moment before she realizes how he could possibly have seen any of her sketches. "Oh. Thank you. Great game out there."

He smiles and thanks her. After a moment, he speaks again. "I know it's last minute and everything, but..."

"Yes?" she asks, almost breathless.

"You wanna go to the dance tomorrow? With me?"

She stops herself from answering right away. Don't want to look to eager there, Pam.

"Sure. Yeah."

They grin at each other like children for who knows how long, and the moment is shattered, but only briefly, when Annie calls out, "Come on, Pammy!"

Pam can barely pull herself away, but she manages, with a soft "bye" and a wave. And he's smiling too and she wonders when she will wake up.

This may be the beginning of something beautiful. She prays that she's right.

-----

Entry the eleventh.

2007-12-12T03:22:51Z

Hey everyone! I hope you are all having a great holiday season.

This is just a mini-update to note that I have implemented a new tagging system. It's much more organized and easy to find what you're looking for! Now, let's just all hope I can stick with it!

Coming up (after I finish school for the year):
- a random mix of icons
- a Sharpay-centric fanfiction I am really enjoying writing
- a Jake/Miley fanfiction

That's all for now, folks!

Merry Christmas and happy holidays. :)

Entry the tenth.

2007-11-26T07:37:10Z

I'm simply reposting this so I can have it in my archives. It was previously posted here, where it won the first challenge of hsmchallenge (okay, so it won by default -- don't rain on my parade *wink*).

Title: Ready
Author: left_to_leave
Rating: PG for some leeway
Pairings/Characters: Chad/Sharpay
Summary: Sharpay and Chad find each other, lose each other, and find each other again.
Author's Notes: Okay, so the summary is pathetic! I'm terrible at them, forgive me lol. Anyway, I'm still not quite satisfied with the way this turned out, and I may rewrite it in the future. Constructive criticism is encouraged and very much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own any High School Musical characters and I am not making any profit from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

-----

She couldn't stand him. He was always... hovering. There was really no other way to describe it.

He would always find some way to... be around. If she was rehearsing, he found a way to work backstage. If she was in the library studying, he happened to be there, too. If she was sitting beneath her favorite tree, minding her own business, he parked himself under the tree across from her.

He's just... always there, she thought.

-----

She didn't like him. He was so... arrogant. Really, there was no other word for him.

"Sharpay," he said in a sing-song voice, coming up next to her as she walked to class.

"What?" she asked, not really interested.

With a flourish, he brandished a pink, misshapen blob of papier-mâché and paint.

She blinked.

"It's a candy dish. I made it for you. In art class."

She blinked again. "Gee, Chad, that's really something," she said with a condescending sneer. Without another word, she spun around and started to head to her next class.

Before she could get very far, a firm hand caught her wrist. She came flying back around, their faces inches away.

"I made it for you," he repeated. "It's the best one I've made."

"Lovely," she said sarcastically. "I'm not taking your stupid bowl."

"Dish," he corrected. "And, yes, you are." He plopped it in her hands.

"No, thank you." She shoved it back at him.

"Why won't you just take it?" It ended up back in her arms.

"Because it's ugly."

"I don't think this is about the dish at all."

"Of course it's about your dumb bowl. It's certainly not about you, if that's what you're getting at."

"I think it is about me."

"Ha. Of course you would."

"I think you really like me. So we should date."

"Really? Maybe if you say it again, with a little more arrogance this time," she glared at him as the bowl toppled back into its creator's hands. In a flash, she was already around the corner, nearing her Spanish class.

He's just... so arrogant!, she thought.

-----

She couldn't help but take notice of him. He was strangely... attractive. A strange way to describe what he was, but it seemed to fit somehow.

Maybe not in the conventional sense. He lacked a certain softness she usually preferred in guys. He was not unbelievably smart in any respect. He wasn't even that nice.

There was just something about him.

-----

He caught her after school on Friday.

He asked her to go out that night.

She gave in.

-----

Weeks passed.

He asked her if she liked him.

She said she did.

-----

Months went by.

He told her he loved her.

She felt the same.

-----

A year came and went.

He wanted things to happen very fast.

She wasn't sure if she was ready.

He was full of ideals -- he could see the future, he said. He saw them together forever, making babies, putting up a white picket fence, growing old. He said he didn't care about age, because the soul didn't age.

She wanted those things, too. Just not so soon.

She told him she wanted to wait.

He respected her decision.

For a while, anyway.

-----

"It's been two-and-a-half years, Sharpay."

"What? That we've been together?"

"Yeah. Two-and-a-half years."

"I know, Chad."

"I think it's time we decided, once and for all."

She looked up from her book.

"Decided?"

"Are you going to marry me or not?"

She sighed and turned back to the paragraph on Napoleon Bonaparte. "Chad, not now. I need to pass this exam."

"I think we're ready."

"We're twenty years old. We're not ready."

"Sharpay, the soul -- "

"Yes, yes, I know, 'the soul doesn't age'. I've heard that before, somewhere." She grinned at him playfully.

"I'm serious about this." He took her face in his hands. "Sharpay Evans, will you please marry me?"

She stared at him, dumbfounded.

"I'm serious about this, too, you know."

"Then what do you say?"

She sighed heavily. He was definitely one of the stubborn ones. "Not yet."

He sighed and dug into his pocket, procuring a rusty penny.

"We'll flip for it," he shrugged.

"You can't be serious."

"The seriousest."

"You made that word up."

He ignored her. "Heads, we get married. Tails, we break up. How's that?"

She blinked at him. "I am not letting Abraham Lincoln decide our future, Chad."

"Here goes nothing," he said, tossing the coin into the air.

She snatched it before it could land.

-----

She had never hurt this much before.

Everything ached. Nothing she ate had any kind of taste. Every song sounded the same, every movie had the same plot, every word she read or spoke meant nothing.

He was hurting, too.

-----

Another year went by.

On her twenty-first birthday, her friends forced her to go out to dinner with them. They ended up at a karaoke bar on the outskirts of town, belting out their worst renditions of a number of classic songs.

"Come on, Sharpay," they urged, pushing the microphone into her hand.

She just stared at it. All she could think was that one person was missing. One person should be here.

"Sing!" Her friends shouted as the music continued.

She sang. But there was no passion.

-----

He got over her. Or, that was the pretense, anyway.

He started dating one of the cheerleaders.

She had red hair. She was perky, and pretty, and nice.

But he didn't care about her.

At night, he only saw the same blonde girl who'd turned his life upside down.

But that was a long time ago.

-----

She was twenty-four.

She had dated a couple guys, never amounting to very much.

She hated herself daily. Some days, she hated herself for letting go of the best relationship of her life. Other days, she hated herself for holding onto it.

-----

She was Christmas shopping that day.

Maybe she was imagining things, but she saw a burst of brown hair in a store window. She craned her neck to see above the flashy Santa Claus display. Her heart skipped.

"Chad," she said, flustered.

She hadn't said his name in four years.

Before she realized what she was doing, she was in the store, strutting resolutely down the aisle where he stood, shaking a variety of snow globes.

"Chad," she said for the second time. It felt good. Chad, Chad, Chad, echoed in her head.

He turned around to look into her eyes.

Some time passed. They weren't sure how long. It felt long. But not long enough.

"Hi," she said finally.

"Hey," he replied, smiling faintly.

Without fully realizing what she was doing, she dug her hand into her coat pocket, procuring a shiny, copper-colored penny. She held her mittened hand between them and flattened out her palm.

"Heads, we get married. Tails, we get married. How's that?"

-----

Entry the ninth.

2007-11-25T04:22:01Z

It's been a while since I've made icons! I've been doing a lot of writing, actually, when I'm not busy with classes and such! My interests have kind of being changing around a bit, but I'm trying to get on livejournal a lot more, especially now that I'm getting to fic challenges and things of that nature. Anyway, enough babbling from me.

Here we go with the icons. It's sort of a big batch because they're a little bit backed up from a couple of months ago.

{11} Emily Browning
{11} Gilmore Girls
{13} High School Musical
{64} Switchfoot
{17} The Office
{23} Miscellaneous [A Walk To Remember, Holes, John Mayer, Justin Timberlake, License To Wed, Milo Ventimiglia, Muse, Peter Pan {2003}, William Moseley, stock/random, text only/quotes/lyrics]
{7} Banners [John Mayer, Switchfoot]
{106} TOTAL

{Teasers:}

Emily Browning
1-9

10-11

Gilmore Girls
1-9

10-11

High School Musical
1-9

10-13

Switchfoot
1-9

10-18

19-27

28-36

37-45

44-54

55-63

64

The Office
1-9

10-17

Miscellaneous
1-9

10-18

19-23

Banners [click on thumbnails for full view]
1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

x; Rules
- Do not edit.
- Do not claim as your own.
- Comments are loved.
- CREDIT left_to_leave.

Entry the eighth.

2007-11-14T09:06:48Z

Title: Last
Author: left_to_leave
Rating: Eh, we'll say PG to be safe
Pairings/Characters: Mostly ensemble
Summary: Senior year has come and gone; graduation day forces everyone to reflect on the past, present, and future.
Author's Notes: I started this on October 5th, left it alone for a while, then came back and finished it the other night. It's my first High School Musical fic, and the first fic I've ever posted for others to read. I've been trying some new things as far as style goes; I hope they turned out like I planned. Constructive criticism is encouraged and very much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own any High School Musical characters and I am not making any profit from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

-----

; Sharpay.

Gabriella flounced up to Sharpay's locker. "Need any help?"

"No, I got it." Sharpay kept her back turned, peeling another photo from the back of her locker and adding it to her purse with the rest of her belongings.

"Okay, then." Gabriella lingered for a second or two. She shuffled her feet and sighed, loudly.

"What?" Sharpay asked flatly, whirling around to face her long-time opponent.

"Listen, Sharpay," Gabriella began. "I know we didn't get off to a great start here at East High" -- Sharpay scoffed; that was the understatement of the century -- "but I just wanted you to know that I've always kind of looked up to you. You always just go for what you want, no questions asked, no regrets. I wish I could be more like you. Except for the whole mean part."

Does this have a point? Sharpay thought impatiently. She wasted no time in voicing her question.

"Is there a point to this?"

Gabriella's optimistic expression faltered, almost imperceptibly. "No. I'm just saying goodbye." She looked down at her hands, then back at Sharpay. "I'll see you at the ceremony, right?"

Sharpay muttered, "Yeah, probably."

Still Gabriella wouldn't leave.

Sharpay snarled inwardly. "Look, you've said your little goodbyes, and they're appreciated. I'm really busy here, so if you could kind of give me some space, that would be great," she snapped.

Normally, she would have used her acting prowess to pretend she even remotely cared, but not today.

Today was different. Today was the end of everything she'd ever known, today was the jump-off point for the future. Today she wanted to wallow in self-pity and agonize over the last time she would open her locker, the last time she would step foot in her math class, the last time she would glide through East High's hallways, turning heads. Today she wanted to be alone and feel sorry for herself and snap at everyone and push them away so it wouldn't hurt as much in the coming years to realize she would never see them again. She would regret living her last day of high school in this manner, she was sure. Today, though... it just made leaving more bearable.

; Gabriella

The morning started out like any other. Her alarm clock buzzed. She hit snooze. It buzzed again. She got up.

She made a beeline for her closet and chose her outfit. She brushed her teeth in rapid little circles. She brushed through her thick, dark hair. She applied her make-up carefully, almost painstakingly.

She went downstairs to a big breakfast her mother had made. Her father sat across the table, the newspaper in hand. Her little sister yawned, barely awake, turning in her chair to catch glimpses of her favorite cartoon on TV in the living room.

It felt like any other day.

But today was not just any other day. Today, she would take her first steps into the Real World, as she'd so often heard it named. Today, she would make the transition from high school student to graduate.

A horn honked outside, and Gabriella peered out the window. Her boyfriend, Troy Bolton, pulled up next to the curb. Without really paying attention to what she was doing, Gabriella shoveled her bites of pancake into her mouth and took swigs of milk to hurriedly wash them down.

"Slow down, mi'ja," her father said from behind the Finance section.

She grunted in response as she swallowed her last strip of bacon. "Sorry." With a kiss on her father's forehead, a hug around her mother's middle, and a pat on her sister's head, Gabriella bounded out the door, ready to face the new day. The last day.

No, scratch that, she thought. The first day.

"Morning, beautiful," Troy grinned as she hopped into the passenger seat.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek, but he gently took her chin in his hand and turned her head, kissing her. She loved when he did that.

"Stop," she giggled, pulling away gently. "My family can see."

He scoffed playfully. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"Of course not!" She kissed him again, a little bit longer than she intended.

They broke away, smiling.

"I love you," Troy said, rubbing her hand lightly.

"I love you, too," Gabriella replied, grinning.

In that moment, she felt as though she wouldn't need anything else, so long as she had him.

"Let's go," Troy whispered as the engine turned over.

; Troy

It was the night before graduation day, and he couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts pounded against his skull, refusing to let him rest. He thought about college. He'd already decided where he was going. He made sure to stay close to wherever Gabriella would be. He thought about leaving home and leaving his parents behind with an empty nest. He thought about all the things he'd done the past few years. He'd tried new things. He'd fallen in love.

He did love Gabriella. He really did. She was his first love. She would always be his first love.

He just couldn't help himself sometimes.

He felt terrible. Guilt would consume him at night as he remembered the feel of another girl's lips against his.

But he couldn't stop what he'd started.

And he could never tell Gabriella the truth.

Never, he told himself.

Somehow, the guilt would fade with the moonlight. In the morning, his mind was nowhere near the topic. In the morning, he had a clean slate. Sort of.

He held Gabriella's hand tightly as they pushed open the double doors to their school. The last time they would ever do that. It was a bittersweet moment.

"Have a good class," he told her, kissing her cheek. They parted ways. Things were good.

Things were very good. He made it through homeroom, no sweat. He presented his final project in art class and earned a B+. He took his Spanish final, with a good feeling that he'd passed.

He just had to make it through a few more classes and a lunch period. He was golden.

"Troy," he felt his name on the back of his neck. He turned around. It was her. His heart sunk, slightly. She was the last person he wanted to see, but somehow, his ill feelings wouldn't stick. The sunshine filtering in brilliantly through the windows melted everything away. He couldn't help but feel happy.

"Hi," he said, smiling in spite of himself.

They walked down the hallway together, just far enough apart from one another that anyone looking at them would assume they were just friends, having a friendly conversation on the way to class.

"How do you think you did on that Spanish final?" she asked, making small talk.

"It was pretty killer, but I'm pretty sure I passed."

"Yeah. Me, too."

They turned a corner, finding themselves alone. Inwardly, Troy cursed himself for not paying attention to the direction they were headed. This was where he most often found himself in trouble. It was one of the old hallways that no one used, lined with unassigned lockers left over from the 1970s that had yet to be renovated like the others. No one ever came down this hallway.

They slowed, and she took his hand in hers.

"Listen," she said, her lips shaping into that irresistible, pouty expression. She lightly backed him against the row of lockers, one hand on his chest. "My parents are going to be gone this weekend. You should come by."

His heart began to pound, "No, no, no." But his mind and mouth disobeyed. One last time, he promised his heart. Don't worry. I'll end it.

"Definitely." And he pressed his lips against hers, prodding her mouth open with his tongue.

No one ever came down this hallway.

No one except for him and Kelsi.

; Chad

"Can you believe it?" Taylor squealed. "We're almost graduates! We're practically adults!"

"Yeah," Chad agreed, being careful not to let his voice give him away.

"I'm so excited. I practiced my speech all day yesterday. I think I finally have it down perfectly."

"You had it down perfectly a week ago," he reminded her.

She continued, her arm linked in his, but Chad couldn't bring himself to pay attention. His eyes wandered across the cafeteria. Troy and Gabriella walked in, hand in hand.

Chad's face flushed. Do they ever leave each other alone?

Troy looked up and caught his best friend's eye. He waved. Chad waved back, forcing a smile.

Taylor noticed her boyfriend's lack of participation. "Who --?" she began, following his eyes across the room. "Oh! Hey, Troy! Hi, Gabriella!" she called brightly. She turned back to Chad, going on and on about some topic he'd already forgotten.

It's not that he didn't like Taylor. She was cute. She was perky. She was intelligent.

And, really, it wasn't like Troy spent any time with him anymore. Ever since the summer with Sharpay and his almost-break-up with Gabriella, Troy clung to the girl with all his might. They were always together, or talking on the phone or texting if they had to be apart. Troy never had time for anyone else. At one point, he came close to resigning from the basketball team.

Chad missed his best friend.

He needed somebody to be around. He couldn't handle being alone all the time. And maybe if he had a girlfriend, he and "Troyella," as the basketball guys had nicknamed them, could double date. Maybe the group would come together again.

As it turned out, dating didn't really work like that.

He sighed, pausing his thoughts to look at the girl beside him.

If he were to be honest with himself, Chad had to admit it. He didn't really like Taylor all that much.

; Taylor

There were still so many things to do. Four finals down, lunch finished, three finals to go. Her brain worked overtime as she extracted random information that she was sure to need in the coming hours. She pulled herself tighter to Chad instinctively.

She had her speech burned into her brain, but that was no good if it meant she lost information that would be useful on her finals. What good was giving her Valedictorian speech if she flunked all her finals?

"I'm sure you'll do great," Chad had reassured her several times in the last month.

Somehow, she didn't believe him.

But, then again, it was Chad. It was hard to believe anything he said. He was a bad liar. She'd known within the first day they'd started dating.

She knew what she was to him: a replacement.

That didn't matter, at the time. At the time, all she wanted was a boyfriend to watch scary movies and fall asleep on the couch with. Whoops, that sentence ended with a preposition, she thought. She mentally corrected it. If she was going to pass this English exam, she had to be completely and totally in grammar-snob mode.

It was too late, now, though, to do very much about Chad. She didn't like being used, but what could she do? She hated being lonely. She liked Chad enough. He was funny at times, never too clingy, and not too bad on the eyes, either.

She didn't realize in the beginning how much she would come to depend on him, even if he was never really there.

; Ryan

He had drama with Ms. Darbus (and his sister) for his last class of the day.

It was tough.

Ms. Darbus made a big deal over the two of them, babbling through her stream of tears how she'd never had such talented, bright pupils in her entire career. Her long ramble ended with a bone-crushing hug for each.

At long last, the final bell rang.

And it was over.

Ryan whistled as he cleaned out the last of his belongings from his locker. He waved goodbye to people as they called out his name. He enjoyed his last moments as a high school student.

He was moving out to New York in a month's time. He would double major in musical theatre and voice, and minor in dance. He would go out to auditions in his spare time. He would find a girlfriend. He would live happily ever after.

It was going to be perfect.

And if it wasn't... he wasn't sure what he would do. He would probably move back home and go to a junior college nearby. He would do community theater. He would slowly, but surely, crumple up inside as his sister and peers left him behind, went out and did great things.

But it would be okay, he told himself, shaking his head as if the thoughts would fly right out, because I'd still be doing something good. Performing, making people happy, in any capacity -- that can only be good.

He shut his locker and put on his favorite fedora.

; Ending.

They'd gotten their Disney ending, kind of. They were all happy, kind of. They were the best of friends and nothing stood in their way. Kind of. Not really.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. But it was what it was.

The almost-graduates milled about the gymnasium, saying teary goodbyes, taking pictures, remembering good times.

Sharpay Evans stood in front of a mirror, straightening her cap and fussing with her gown, huffing when her hair became electric with static and her mounting anxiety began to bubble over the top.

Ryan Evans kept a broad smile, determined to remain optimistic, chatting with people he'd never formed true friendships with, but had known since kindergarten.

Gabriella Montez buried her head into her boyfriend's chest. Troy Bolton cupped her face with his hand and spoke softly, trying to ease her nerves.

Chad Danforth sulked against the wall, watching his best friend spend all his time with someone else, meanwhile holding his girlfriend's hand grudgingly.

Taylor McKessie grasped onto her boyfriend's hand as if holding on for dear life, her thoughts buzzing with a strange mixture of nervousness and excitement.

"Graduates! Graduates, please, pay attention! Get into your lines!" The principal strutted through the clumps of students purposefully. The students obeyed, settling into their already-rehearsed line formations, eager and anxious to start that long walk into the auditorium.

They shuffled in, single file, silent.

The principal took his place at the podium.

Time crawled on, yet dissolved swiftly.

Taylor gave her speech, as perfectly as she had practiced. Ryan listened intently. Troy and Gabriella smiled at each other from separate rows. Sharpay let her thoughts wander elsewhere. Chad fidgeted.

At last, the first name was called. Sharpay was vaguely aware of Troy Adam Bolton and Chad Michael Danforth being called. She knew those names. Sharpay blinked, and moments after, or so it seemed, her brother's name was called.

"Ryan Jameson Evans."

On her left side, Sharpay felt her brother stand, lightly brushing his hand against hers, as if to say, this is it. He began his walk down the center aisle, up the short set of stairs, and to the stage to receive his diploma. A big smile spread across his face as he shook various unnamed board members' hands.

"Sharpay Logainne Evans."

She woke from her reverie with a start, then quickly regained her composure and stood.

With one last look that seemed like forever, she gazed at the audience seated behind her graduating class. She picked out her parents in the crowd. Her mother was crying and clapping; her father dabbed at his eyes, which glimmered with pride.

She took that first step, and didn't look back.

-----

Entry the seventh.

2007-07-12T02:40:19Z

A small batch.
{4} The All-American Rejects
{6} Augustana
{6} Christian Bale
{4} Harry Potter actors [Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint]
{6} Invader Zim
{26} TOTAL

{Teasers:}

The All-American Rejects
oo1. oo2. oo3.

oo4.

Augustana
oo5. oo6. oo7.

oo8. oo9. o1o.

Christian Bale
o11. o12. o13.

o14. o15. o16.

Harry Potter Actors
o17. o18. o19.

o2o.

Invader Zim
o21. o22. o23.

o24. o25. o26.

x; Notes
8. Lyrics are from You, by Switchfoot.
11. Lyrics are from Dare You To Move, by Switchfoot.
12. Lyrics are from I'm Waiting, by The All-American Rejects.
17. Lyrics are from Dirty Second Hands, by Switchfoot.
19-20. Lyrics are from Burn Out Bright, by Switchfoot.
Any other questions? That's what the comment box is for! ♥

x; Rules
- Do not edit.
- Do not claim as your own.
- Comments are loved.
- CREDIT left_to_leave.
If you don't know how to credit: Simply type the following into the "comments" box on your edit pictures page:
[lj user="left_to_leave"] made this. *and*hearts;*and*dagger;
Then, just replace [ ] with < >; *and* with &.
It will look like this: left_to_leave made this. ♥†
Simple! ♥

Entry the sixth.

2007-06-13T22:43:30Z

For this batch:
{51} Switchfoot [Podcasts 1 and 2]
{51} TOTAL

{Teasers:}

Switchfoot
oo1. oo2. oo3.

oo4. oo5. oo6.

oo7. oo8. oo9.

o1o. o11. o12.

o13. o14. o15.

o16. o17. o18.

o19. o2o. o21.

o22. o23. o24.

o25. o26. o27.

o28. o29. o3o.

o31. o32. o33.

o34. o35. o36.

o37. o38. o39.

o4o. o41. o42.

o43. o44. o45.

o46. o47. o48.

o49. o5o. o51.

x; Notes
1-14. Podcast #1.
15-51. Podcast #2.
16. Lyrics are from Under the Gun, by The Killers.
18. Lyrics are from Under Pressure, by David Bowie; however, the transparent lyrics are the lyrics as Tim sings them, which are incorrect. But who's counting?
20. Lyrics are from Sun, by Mae.
24. Lyrics are from A Favor House Atlantic, by Coheed & Cambria.
33-34. Lyrics are from Betrayal, by Jon Foreman, I believe.
35-41. If anybody would be so kind as to put these frames into one icon and animate them, I would be SO GRATEFUL! Er... in case you were wondering. ;P
44-47. Ammo = Ammunition, a fast, rockin' Switchfoot song. But you should know that, Switchfoot fans! ;)
47. The transparent "da na na na" things are supposed to be Drew's humming of Ammunition. :P
49. Lyrics are from He Reigns, by Newsboys.
51. Lyrics are from Happy Endings, by The All-American Rejects.
If you're a Switchfoot fan and you haven't watched the podcasts, I suggest you do so immediately! You can get them for free on iTunes. ♥
Any other questions? That's what the comment box is for! ♥

x; Rules
- Do not edit.
- Do not claim as your own.
- Comments are loved.
- CREDIT left_to_leave.
If you don't know how to credit: Simply type the following into the "comments" box on your edit pictures page:
[lj user="left_to_leave"] made this. *and*hearts;*and*dagger;
Then, just replace [ ] with < >; *and* with &.
It will look like this: left_to_leave made this. ♥†
Simple! ♥

Entry the fifth.

2007-03-04T00:05:42Z

Third set today. Here's what's inside:
{9} Billy Boyd
{2} Michael Buble
{26} Switchfoot
{1} Wayne's World
{38} TOTAL

{Teasers:}

Billy Boyd
oo1. oo2. oo3.

oo4. oo5. oo6.

oo7. oo8. oo9.

Michael Buble
o1o. o11.

Switchfoot
o12. o13. o14.

o15. o16. o17.

o18. o19. o2o.

o21. o22. o23.

o24. o25. o26.

o27. o28. o29.

o3o. o31. o32.

o33. o34. o35.

o36. o37.

Wayne's World
o38.

x; Notes
2. Lyrics are from Under the Sea, from Disney's The Little Mermaid, obviously.
5. Scene from The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. Breaks my heart! :(
26. You have to admit. Jon's hair is very Farrah-like in the Dare You To Move video.
29. Lyrics are from On Fire, by Switchfoot.
31. Feet Don't Fail Me Now is a must-see for any Switchfoot fan. ;) Head over to their store on their website immediately and buy it!
34. Lyrics are from Your Song, by Elton John.
35. Lyrics are from Sexyback, by Justin Timberlake.
Any other questions? That's what the comment box is for! ♥

x; Rules
- Do not edit.
- Do not claim as your own.
- Comments are loved.
- CREDIT left_to_leave.

Entry the fourth.

2007-03-03T23:32:57Z

I'm on a roll. ;) Well, actually, I made a whole crapload throughout the month and didn't bother posting, and they started backing up, so I separated them into small-ish sets. :-P So here is today's second set:
{21} The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
{10} The Battle of Shaker Heights
{3} Lost cast
{34} TOTAL

{Teasers:}

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
oo1. oo2. oo3.

oo4. oo5. oo6.

oo7. oo8. oo9.

o1o. o11. o12.

o13. o14. o15.

o16. o17. o18.

o19. o2o. o21.

The Battle of Shaker Heights
o22. o23. o24.

o25. o26. o27.

o28. o29. o3o.

o31.

Lost
o32. o33. o34.

x; Notes
1. Lyrics are from Amateur Lovers, by Switchfoot.
2. Lyrics are from I So Hate Consequences, by Relient K.
3. Lyrics are from Escape, by Hoobastank.
6. Lyrics are from Eloquent, by Sanctus Real.
7. Lyrics are from Lonely People, by Augustana.
11. Best part of the movie! I crack up every time!
12. Lyrics are from Noots, by Sum 41.
19. Lyrics are from In God's Country, by U2.
21. I'm sure these lyrics could be from pretty much anywhere, but I was listening to Cool, from West Side Story, at the time. Just play it cool, boy... real cool. ;)
22. Lyrics are from More Than Fine, by Switchfoot.
25. Lyrics are from Amateur Lovers, by Switchfoot.
31. Lyrics are from This Is Your Life, by Switchfoot.
32. Lyrics are from Never Far Behind, by Aly & AJ.
Any other questions? That's what the comment box is for! ♥

x; Rules
- Do not edit.
- Do not claim as your own.
- Comments are loved.
- CREDIT left_to_leave.

Entry the third.

2007-03-03T23:19:49Z

A little summary:
{4} The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
{4} Gilmore Girls [Rory and Jess]
{5} Peter Pan [2003 version]
{17} Random [Boy Meets World, Harry Potter, more.]
{12} Switchfoot
{42} TOTAL

{Teasers:}

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
oo1. oo2. oo3.

oo4.

Gilmore Girls
oo5. oo6. oo7.

oo8.

Peter Pan
oo9. o1o. o11.

o12. o13.

Random
o14. o15. o16.

o17. o18. o19.

o2o. o21. o22.

o23. o24. o25.

o26. o27. o28.

o29. o3o.

Switchfoot
o31. o32. o33.

o34. o35. o36.

o37. o38. o39.

o4o. o41. o42.

x; Notes
5. Lyrics are from Goodbye Song, by Abandoned Pools.
6. Lyrics are from Indie Rock and Roll, by The Killers.
7. Lyrics are from Hard To Say, by The Used.
8. Lyrics are from New Way To Be Human, by Switchfoot.
9. Lyrics are from Magnetic, by Sanctus Real.
11. Lyrics are from Feeling This, by Blink-182.
14. Lyrics are from Hysteria, by Muse.
20. Lyrics are from Those Words Are Not Enough, by Relient K.
23. Lyrics are from Under the Gun*, by The Killers.
24. Lyrics are from Weird, by Hanson.
26. Lyrics are from Falling Down*, by Muse.
27. Lyrics are from The Phantom of the Opera.
31. Lyrics are from Spirit, by Switchfoot.
32. Lyrics are from The Bitter End, by Placebo.
33. Lyrics are from Daylight To Break, by Switchfoot.
35. Lyrics are from Head Over Heels (In This Life), by Switchfoot.
38. Lyrics are from Stars, by Switchfoot.
* I took some liberties with the lyrics, kind of by accident. ;P Sorry 'bout that.
Any other questions? That's what the comment box is for! ♥

x; Rules
- Do not edit.
- Do not claim as your own.
- Comments are loved.
- CREDIT left_to_leave.

Entry the second.

2007-01-26T01:13:12Z

Time for the second batch o' icons. Hurrah! I experimented a little with some new techniques so... let me know what you think!

{4} Invader ZIM
{13} Random [The All-American Rejects, The Office, more.]
{21} Switchfoot
{38} TOTAL

{Teasers:}

Invader ZIM
oo1. oo2. oo3.

oo4.

Random
oo5. oo6. oo7.

oo8. oo9. o1o.

o11. o12. o13.

o14. o15. o16.

o17.

Switchfoot
o18. o19. o2o.

o21. o22. o23.

o24. o25. o26.

o27. o28. o29.

o3o. o31. o32.

o33. o34. o35.

o36. o37. o38.

x; Notes
13. Lyrics from a song that I heard on AIR 1... I have no idea what it is called but I love it!
16. Lyrics from Mayfield by Augustana.
18. Lyrics from Meant To Live, by Switchfoot.
19. Lyrics from Dare You To Move, by Switchfoot.
20. Lyrics from Iris by Goo Goo Dolls.
21 & 22. Images from Podcast #12 :D
30 & 31. Lyrics from Oh! Gravity., by Switchfoot
34 & 35. Allusion to the Switchfoot album Legend of Chin.
36. Lyrics from The Setting Sun, by Switchfoot.
38. Lyrics from Waiting on the World To Change by John Mayer.
Any other questions? That's what the comment box is for! ♥

x; Rules
- Do not edit.
- Do not claim as your own.
- Comments are loved.
- CREDIT left_to_leave.
If you don't know how to credit: Copy and paste the following into the "comments" box on your edit pictures page:
[lj user="left_to_leave"] made this. *and*hearts;*and*dagger;
Then, just replace [ ] with < >; *and* with &.
It will look like this: left_to_leave made this. ♥†
Simple! ♥

Entry the first.

2007-01-14T07:09:35Z

Finally getting this icon journal started!

For my first batch,
{5} The All-American Rejects
{2} A Series of Unfortunate Events
{6} Harry Potter
{6} Random [Lauren Graham, Dominic Monaghan, more.]
{5} Shia LaBeouf
{6} Switchfoot
{30} TOTAL

{Teasers:}

AAR
oo1. oo2. oo3.

oo4. oo5.

ASOUE
oo6. oo7.

HP
oo8. oo9. o1o.

o11. o12. o13.

Random
o14. o15. o16.

o17. o18. o19.

SLB
o2o. o21. o22.

o23. o24.

SF
o25. o26. o27.

o28. o29. o3o.

x; Notes
9. Lyrics are from This Picture, by Placebo.
10. Lyrics are from Nancy Boy, by Placebo.
11. Transparent words say "what they seem". I forgot what song I was listening to when I made it, but it was probably Placebo. ;)
19. Lyrics are from Where Is My Mind?, by Placebo.
20. Lyrics are from Breathing, by Yellowcard.
21. Lyrics are from Night Drive, by All-American Rejects.
22. Transparent background lyrics are from Tainted Love, by Soft Cell.
24. Quote and picture are from the film The Battle of Shaker Heights.
27. Lyrics are from Move Along, by All-American Rejects.
30. Quote is from one of the Switchfoot Podcasts.
Any other questions? That's what the comment box is for! ♥

x; Rules
- Do not edit.
- Do not claim as your own.
- Comments are loved.
- CREDIT left_to_leave.
If you don't know how to credit: Simply type the following into the "comments" box on your edit pictures page:
[lj user="left_to_leave"] made this. *and*hearts;*and*dagger;
Then, just replace [ ] with < >; *and* with &.
It will look like this: left_to_leave made this. ♥†
Simple! ♥