Chapter Text
🎭 RYAN EVANS 🎭
Ryan Evans always had a love for theater. He and Sharpay had been performing for their parents ever since they could walk and talk. Their mother Derby found it adorable, and she's kept most of their early performances on home video. She claimed that she only did it so when they became famous the documentaries made about them would have footage from their childhood. Ryan didn't think that was the real reason. It could be a small part of her reason for doing it, but he believed it was just an excuse.
Their father Vance on the other hand thought it was nice for Ryan to perform with his sister, even if it wasn't what he enjoyed. His father was convinced he was going to make his son a professional sports player, and anything outside of that narrative was just Ryan being a good brother.
If you asked Ryan what he was going to do during his winter break, he would have made a vague comment on how he'd probably spend it taking dance classes or acting lessons. Spending the entire break alone with his father was certainly not the plan. And yet here he was on the baseball field, with his father and some random major league guys that his father had connections to, because of course he did.
It was clearly a setup from the start, and when Ryan was asked if he wanted to bat or pitch just for fun, he knew he couldn't turn it down. Before he went to bat Vance straightened his hat, and patted him on the shoulder, as a form of encouragement. Ryan wanted to fix his hat back to his liking but decided he'd just do it when his father's eyes weren't piercing the back of his head.
He struggled the first few swings, getting used to the feeling of a bat in his hands after so long. Ryan finally found his rhythm and hit each pitch with pinpoint accuracy. After a short while of that, they decided to switch it up and have Ryan pitch. Apparently, he was pitching for "one of the best active batters in the league." If that was true, the guy was either a total joke or purposefully doing bad. After a dozen consecutive strikes, the batter gave up.
“You were right Vance, your son's a natural.” The coach said, nodding his head. “If you keep playing like that you could be a modern day, Babe Ruth.”
“That's my Ryan, carried his little league team to the championships all on his own. They would've been nothing without him.”
Ryan did his best not to grimace at the mention of his little league days. Ryan still liked baseball well enough, but he wasn't passionate about it. He didn't feel excitement going out onto the field, and he didn't feel a spike of adrenaline before a game or when it was nearing its end. It was nothing more than a former pass-time. A pass-time his father was determined to make his career.
“I'm flattered, but I don't think I'm anywhere near his skill level, sir.” Ryan says, addressing the coach whose name was still slipping his mind.
“With the proper training and dedication, you'll get there.” The man says, with a confident smile. Looking over the man's shoulder Ryan could see his father was absolutely beaming.
When they finally returned home on New Year's Day his mother and sister were already back from New York. While Vance and Derby went off to talk in some other part of the mansion, Ryan went straight to his sister's room and dramatically leaned against the doorframe. “Never, and I mean never make me go on a trip with dad by myself again!”
Sharpay simply laughs at Ryan's comment while shaking her head, not looking away from her vanity. “He made you play baseball with old people, or random children again, didn't he?”
Ryan ran his hand across his face and shook his head. “Honestly, I would have preferred that. It was worse. They were supposedly major league officials.”
That comment got Sharpay to turn around in her chair and raise an eyebrow in her brother's direction. “Supposedly?”
“I mean, I didn't recognize them, and I don't remember their names but that's what dad said. What they said.” Ryan says, shrugging and knocking his head against the doorframe.
Sharpay makes an ‘ah’ sound in understanding and turns back to her vanity. “So, I'm assuming you haven't told dad yet?”
“And I'm not going to anytime soon. The entire trip he kept straightening my hats. Which, firstly looks so much worse, and I'm taking it as an allegory for him being homophobic.”
“Your logic is somehow impeccable and completely ridiculous.” Sharpay says, with a wave of her hand she shoos Ryan away. “If we weren't both jet-lagged I'd force you to the practice room so we could work on our audition for the musical. But we'll just have to make do tomorrow.”
🍰 ZEKE BAYLOR 🍰
Zeke Baylor, a member of the East High basketball team; he was a wildcat through and through. However, with the school's hierarchy system that meant his only friends were his teammates. He didn't hate his teammates by any means; he just wasn't sure he'd be friends with most of them in any other circumstance.
Troy Bolton was the basketball star, which was expected because his father was the coach. Chad Danforth was Troy's best friend since kindergarten and followed him around like a lovesick puppy; Chad was so clearly smitten. No one else noticed or at the very least didn't comment on it so Zeke kept the observation to himself. Then there was Jason, he was usually high and smelled of weed, how he never got in trouble for it was a mystery.
If East High didn't have its strange status quo, Zeke would've joined the cooking club his freshman year. But, when he saw that none of the other jocks did anything outside of sports, he second guessed himself and opted not to.
Truthfully, Zeke loved basketball and baking equally. He could see himself making a career out of either. It was a shame that Zeke had to hide that side of himself when he was at school. Whenever he learned a new recipe and successfully made it, he wanted to bring it to school and show off what he accomplished. But it was no use.
His first attempt was in Freshman year, during the first big exam of the year. Zeke was so anxious about it the night before that he was stress baking cookies at two in the morning instead of sleeping. The next day when he brought them to school, his friends just assumed his mother made them. Why she would do that didn't make sense to Zeke. She wasn't a big fan of baking or cooking; he got that passion from his dad's side of the family.
That was the side of the family he was staying with during New Years. He could bake with his grandmother and not worry about his teammates breaking down the front door or suddenly appearing behind him like ghosts.
“So…” Zeke's grandmother started as they put the last batch of cookies into the oven. “Did you finally break away from your teammates and join the cooking club?”
Zeke sighed and shook his head. “Well, no. If anyone broke from the status quo the school would probably explode. I don't want to be the one responsible for that level of catastrophe.”
“But if someone else did it first, would you be willing to then?” She asked, taking one of the cookies from the previous batch, and taking a bite.
“I mean… if it was someone higher-up in the hierarchy than maybe. Like, if Troy Bolton or say one of the Evans twins did it, I'd maybe consider.”
“The Evans twins? You haven't mentioned them before.”
“We aren't in the same social circle. They're the two that always star in the school musicals. Sharpay's at the top of the drama department; she's the more confident and louder of the two. Ryan is her second in command, sorta. He just follows her around and doesn't talk much from what I've seen. Oh, and he has the better style of the two; he always has a hat that matches his outfit and he tilts them ever-so-slightly to the side.”
His grandmother nods her head in understanding. “So, you don't want to open those gates, but if someone else does, you'll follow.”
Zeke grimaces but nods, bringing his glass of water to his mouth. “I'd rather not risk going against the current and becoming a complete outcast. Even if it means being seen as one dimensional.”
Grandma gives Zeke a knowing look, before she clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “That's why you never mentioned liking someone or have gone on a date isn't it? Your partner of choice would speed up the process of becoming an outcast.”
At his grandmother's words Zeke almost chokes on his water, and he has to spit it back into his glass. The oven dings and Zeke's grandmother goes to tend to the final batch of cookies, while Zeke sits in stunned silence, effectively ending the conversation.
