Chapter Two

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Troy felt like thirty six thousand bucks. He could barely contain his excitement and rage, and simply had to show Pop Icon Hannah Montana the fishman. He knew she wouldn't believe him until she saw the fishman with her own two eyes. Still, she needed to know as soon as possible. He got to her concert, but when he realized she was in the middle of her song "True Friend", he couldn't help but get swept up in the fervor of the crowd. He liked that song.

Not many people know this, but Hannah actually wrote that song about Troy. She wrote it for him as a birthday gift for his birthday, which was on July 18. That was years ago, but Troy still smiled whenever he heard it.

He rocked out with the rest of the super fans, his urgent news temporarily forgotten. When the concert was finally over, Hannah walked into her dressing room to see Troy sitting in her chair with a big smile on his face. Hannah jumped when she saw him, on account of the fact that she hadn't expected anyone to be in her chair.

"Don't do that Troy! You know I'm easily scared!" Hannah cried.

"Yeah, but it sure is funny," Troy replied sheepishly. Hannah was glad that, at the very least, Troy's little practical joke hadn't messed up her outfit, which was on point. She was wearing a sparkly, gray denim vest over a black t-shirt, and her pink-and-black belt covered a pink zebra-print mini-skirt with ruffles. Her nails were painted a jazzy shade of purple, her favorite color, and her shoes were tall, covered in sequins, the most lovely shade of hot pink imaginable. Hannah's celestial blonde hair lay perfectly, displaying her white earrings that were shaped like guitars and framing her angelic face. Her oceanic eyes were perfectly accented by equally blue eyeshadow, making her icy orbs the focal point of her flawless countenance. Even Troy had to admit it was a good look.

Troy and Hannah did their elaborate secret handshake. The pair came up with it years ago, and the handshake was so long and complex that it took several minutes to complete. By the time it was over, Troy could barely contain himself. "I have a surprise for you!" he blurted out impatiently.

"A surprise? It's not even November 23, my birthday!" Hannah retorted excitedly.

"Bet. Come to the golf course with me and I'll show you the surprise. It'll change your life. I know it changed mine," Troy whispered.

"But I have legions of adoring fans outside waiting to get a piece of this!" Hannah protested.

Troy's only response was a knowing smirk. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Hannah inquired.

"Bet," Troy professed.

Two hours later, Troy and Hannah reached the golf course. Troy told Hannah to close her eyes to make the surprise more special, but she refused, fearing that a lack of visibility would leave her vulnerable to attack.

Troy laughed, "You and your combat tactics." He shook his head bemusedly and blushed.

"What can I say," she giggled, "I'm always ready for every contingency. I have no room for weakness." Her face became serious. "I've come too far."

By the time they arrived at the pond, Hannah was brimming with anticipation. Troy could barely contain his excitement either. He felt like that whenever he thought about the fishman. "Okay," Troy mused, "are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Hannah inebriated.

Troy scurried to the pond's edge, peered deep into the liquid, and started to call out. "Come back! It is I, Troy the Basketball Boy, and I want you to meet my friend, Pop Icon Hannah Montana!" He lumbered back to Hannah. "That should do it. And now we play..." He paused for dramatic effect, an equally dramatic breeze ruffling his hair, then continued, "... the waiting game."

The game, as it turned out, lasted at least twelve minutes, long enough for the sun to go down, and Troy could tell Hannah was getting impatient. He wondered when the fishman was going to arrive. Why couldn't they have just exchanged phone numbers? That would have been so much easier.

Just then, the pond began to stir. Something was about to surface. Oh my god, Troy thought, the fishman is here and Hannah is going to be so impressed. He turned back towards her and held his arms to the side, presenting the fishman Will Smith style. He waited for her eyes to light up at the sight of the fishman and for her to utter "sweet niblets" in shock, but she did neither of those things. Perhaps they had already met?

Hannah looked at Troy, puzzled. "Is that it? Is that really what you wanted to show me?" she interrogated.

Troy was taken aback. "Uh, yeah? Is he not gorgeous?" he snapped. He turned back around to gaze upon the fishman and his hemispheric pecs, but he was nowhere to be found. Troy gasped and clutched his chest in shock. He looked down, but there was only a frog.

Hannah was getting angry. "So you're telling me you lured me all the way out here to this pond just to show me a frog?"

"N-No, I-" Troy stammered, but she was having none of it. Sure, the frog was admittedly beautiful, but Troy had said that the surprise was life-changing, and a beautiful frog wasn't life-changing by any stretch of the imagination.

Hannah couldn't believe him. He had taken her all the way out here just for a stupid prank. What kind of best friend did that?

Troy continued to protest. "Hannah, please believe me. There was a fishman and he was right here just a few minutes ago and I saw him. He's real, I swear!" He paused dramatically, and his voice lowered. "And- and he spoke in sign language."

Hannah gave him a dirty look. "Really, Troy? Sign language? Sign language, Troy? That's pathetic. I don't know sign language, and do you know why? Because it's glorified charades and I refuse to participate in such a silly game!" Hannah harrumphed.

"Hannah, you've got to believe me!" he practically begged.

But she didn't. "Wow, Troy, you hooligan, you lovable scamp, you rabble rouser, you. You almost had me. Nice try, mister, but you can't make a fool of me that easily!" Troy was crushed. Crushed that Pop Icon Hannah Montana, his best friend, had called him all those hurtful things but also crushed that the fishman had betrayed him like that.

Troy knew that the fishman was the bee's knees, and that he was developing great basketball knees. But more than that, Troy knew that the love he and the fishman had shared was real. But now, the fishman had gone and thrown it all away like none of it even mattered. Troy stared into the pond, past his reflection and all its symbolic meaning, down into the watery abyss that lie beneath. The fishman was gone, and now, he was gone from Troy's heart too. Troy felt sad.

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