AN: Part of Five Times Friday. To learn more about FTF go to my author profile and click the LJ link or just ask. This story is adjacent to Never. It is not necessary you read one to understand the other but it might help.

I.

Everyone who looked at Miley Stewart was convinced she had a charmed life.

II.

When Miley was twelve, she thought her life should be exactly like a movie. If she had to choose specifically, it came down to A Cinderella Story versus The Prince and Me. She felt she definitely bore more resemblance to Julia Stiles look-wise. Personality-wise though, Miley felt she was cookie-cut to be America's Sweetheart just like Hilary Duff. Besides, there were a severe lack of legal princes in the world and even less of a chance of finding one at college. And, in Miley's twelve-year-old, mind she would never let one half-rip off her shirt in the back of a library.

The thing about these movies was one did need a leading man for them, prince or not. And when Miley moved to Malibu, she lost all her candidates. At first, the only boy she spent enough time with to be eligible was Jackson's friend Cooper. And while she may have used him as a temporary replacement, he was no Chad Michael Murray. So she started shopping around for others after she caught him looking down her top when she bent down to tie her shoelaces.

So she moved on to the next semi-attractive boy who showed any interest in her, Oliver Oken. She'd been friends with his best friend, Lilly, for a few weeks when the girl had invited her to watch 10 Things I Hate About You at her house. Miley-being the awkward, overly-accented, new girl-had jumped at the chance. She spent every night in the week leading up to that Saturday night going through her outfits and looking for the cutest one that looked casual enough not to be trying too hard. It was impossible. Five minutes before she was supposed to leave, she'd just barely decided on a pair of jeans with a blue blouse that bunched just a tiny bit under her not-yet-existent cleavage. Then she'd almost left the house without any shoes on.

When she got to Lilly's house, and the blond girl had answered the door in an army-print green tank top and a pair of black sweats that said Aeropostale along the leg, she felt like an idiot. Then she'd walked into the living room after her, and she frozen. Lilly took a seat casually against the bottom of the couch next to the boy sitting in a red t-shirt and matching plaid flannel pajama bottoms who had freaked Miley out. She took a hand full of popcorn out of the bowl on his lap like it was nothing. And, as Miley soon found out, it really wasn't anything to them. It was basically what they did every weekend. So Miley slumped down next to Lilly and tried to act as casual. When Oliver started talking directly to her, it proved more difficult.

So even though she couldn't speak a whole sentence to him, Miley managed to develop a crush on him. She smiled and stammered and blushed every time he joined her and Lilly on a trip to Rico's, or ran into them at the beach, when they all went browsing through the mall. When there were school dances, and Todd was the only one to ask her, she got sad. She was mad at Lilly for the fact that she could skate and Miley could barely balance without wheels, so she couldn't hang out at the skate park with them. And she got really mad when it eventually became obvious Oliver had no interest in her.

She had been probing Lilly about who she thought Oliver was planning to ask to the Snowflake Ball, a black-and-white version of her old school's winter formal. Lilly had shrugged, "He hasn't said anything about it. Probably already got rejected by whichever lucky girl he asked and doesn't want to talk about it." Todd's answer had been much to the same point, with a few more 'dude's thrown in.

So Miley had gone directly to the source, to her first real conversation with the boy. It's amazing how much you could learn about a boy in two minutes after cataloging his interests for months. He liked his pancakes with no butter and extra syrup. He liked to go into the arcade at the mall and laugh at the Goth kids who were busy being obsessed with Dance Dance Revolution. He liked to have the Simpsons on at 7:30 while he ate dinner. The thing he didn't like was her.

"Hey Oliver," She'd said nervously, standing next to his locker after class.

"Hey, uh, Miley," He looked around, "Where's Lilly?"

"She's talking to Ms. Barnes about extra credit." Oliver nodded and started to walk away.

"Hey Oliver," She repeated. "Who are you taking to the dance?"

He shrugged. "I don't think I'm gonna go," He told her.

She knitted her eyebrows. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to see his opening and ask her. "Why not?"

"Um…this girl I like, she's going with someone else already." Miley tried hard not to show her feelings at this point but it was difficult with how much she wanted to cry. She wasn't going with anyone else, which meant she wasn't this girl. This girl he liked.

She couldn't stop torturing herself there, "Who is it?" She asked.

He seemed to consider telling her, after all, she was just his friend, "Why's it matter?"

"It doesn't…I just…" Want to know because I have this secret giant crush on you? She couldn't say that though. She just waved and took the bus home. Once there, she stuck her black-and-white polka dotted dress in the back of her closet and pushed all thoughts of Julia Stiles and Hilary Duff out of her mind with a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

III.

Robby Ray hid his pain when Miley's mother died. He hid everything that reminded him of her. He hid her paintings of the rolling farm they had on Tennessee in Mamaw's guest bedroom. He hid all the pictures of her that didn't include the kids inside the wood stove as a pile of ashes. He hid all her diaries in a shoebox in the back of his closet. And he dumped all his hopes into his 11-year-old daughter when he couldn't even bear to meet his son's eyes some days. Hannah Montana was his idea. Musical therapy, he'd called it.

Miley liked a different type of therapy more. She liked waiting until her father made his morning 'jog' to the local bakery to scarf down doughnuts and open the shoebox. She liked to read about the magical moments in her mother's life. She liked reading about the time her uncle had chased her down the street with a croquet mallet when she'd refused to play another round of the game with him after he'd lost. She liked reading about the first time she'd met her father, in a highway side diner. They're eyes had met and then they'd spent all night talking over cups of bad coffee and slices of apple pie. After Jake Ryan left, she liked reading about her mother's first love, and her first time, even though they weren't with her father. They gave her hope that she might feel something like that for someone again.

There were things she didn't like. She didn't like reading about how Jackson was conceived (in the bed of the old Dodge pickup her father had driven for years). She didn't like reading about her mother's first heartbreak. She hated hearing her mother's thoughts after Miley was born before she'd been medicated for post-partum psychosis. The thing she hated the most that there was no mention in there of leukemia. Her father had told her the morning her mother had died that she'd been long suffering of it, and she hadn't wanted to scare her and Jackson. Even though the last entry was torn out of the brown leather book that was the last year of her life, Miley knew what it was. It could only be a suicide note. And she knew her father had it.

She never asked him though. She never spoke a word of it to Jackson, even when she walked into a room and, feeling the pressure between him and his father, was sure he'd known from the beginning how much less of a tragedy their mother's death had been then everyone had made her believe. She kept being a perfect pop-star, a straight-A student, anything she thought would repair them.

When Miley was three days shy of twenty-seven, she stopped trying. Not because she didn't want to mend her father's heart anymore, but because she had proof she couldn't. She had the fact that Robby Ray had shot himself. And his note said everything. Most of it was gibberish about her mother's death being his fault and ruining Jackson. The last line was all that had mattered to her.

Don't tell Miley.

It had said. Jackson had disregarder his father's dying wish. He didn't want to live a lie anymore, he told his little sister. Mom had taken arsenic. Jackson had found her when he got home from school. She'd been schizophrenic but diagnosed improperly due to the fact that it had started showing itself slowly around the time of childbirth. Her note had been horrible, about angels telling her to hurt her children and bleeding all over her. The only line that had made any sense was the same.

Don't tell Miley.

IV.

When she was about sixteen, Miley started seeing women differently. At that time, it had really just been her best friend, Lilly. They'd been as close as sisters, but when Miley had used that word on a trip to DC, something inside her hadn't liked it. The feeling in the bottom of her stomach hadn't settled yet when they returned to the hotel. They were supposed to change into something 'appropriate' for their dinner cruise. Lilly had started undressing right away, in the middle of their room. And Miley had had a mini-freak out, and gone into the bathroom to 'brush her teeth'. Sitting on the toilet, she was embarrassed with herself. She had changed in front of Lilly a million times, why should it matter that her best friend was returning the favor for once?

The rest of the night hadn't helped. From the moment she came out wearing her gauzy red dress and her friend had called her 'beautiful', she was doomed. They'd met Oliver in the lobby, his black-and-white pinstriped shirt matched Lilly's black-belted batik sundress but not Joanie's electric blue mini. The girls had laughed, Oliver blushed, and they'd gone their separate ways. Lilly and Miley had found an empty corner of the ship's dance floor and started dancing to the bad rap music that was their school's typical dance material. After a few songs, they decided it was sort of stupid to be dancing to that kind of bumping, grinding, degrading kind of music without Oliver in between them as a buffer. So they had gone out onto the deck of the boat. They'd sat up on the top railing, just talking, and then had started singing. At first Lilly was just humming, but when Miley recognized the tune she'd belted it out.

"Dark blue, dark blue,Have you ever been alone,In a crowded room?Well, I'm here with you,And the world could be turning,Dark blue."

They'd been quiet after that, just sitting and watching the ocean, and feeling at peace with the world for once. At least Miley had, it was the first moment in her life she could remember being able to quiet her thoughts and just enjoy the ride.

Then Oliver came outside. He was grumbling angrily about what a slut Joanie was. How she was all pressed up against Jimmy Bednark when she should have been dancing with him. Lilly had calmed him down with her unusual mix of soothing words and insults. Then she'd talked him into a game of I Never despite not having anything to drink. They'd just make bunnies with their hands instead, she'd reasoned. While this confused Miley, it seemed to brighten Oliver's enthusiasm towards the game by tenfold.

"I've never shot-" She began, only to have the life scared out of her by a tap on the shoulder. It was Dex, he wanted to dance with her. She looked at Lilly, who was giving her a thumbs up, and Oliver, who still seemed to be waiting for her to finish her sentence, his hand raised midair in anticipation. She had no choice but to go or face Lilly's insinuations and, quite possibly, anger that she liked Oliver for the next few months. As she walked through the door perfectly handsome Dex held open for her like a gentlemen, she look back. There, leaning against the railing closest to the sea spray were her best friends, accidentally matching, heads bowed towards each other. She could just make out the small, content smile on Lilly's lips. And somehow, she felt cold walking into the warm air.

V.

Miley never explained to anyone why she broke up with Connor beyond, "That boy! He is such a…wart on a big monkey's butt!" She didn't even tell Lilly, despite her constant poking and prodding. She was too ashamed.

They'd been going out almost two months, although they'd only had three dates because he had two jobs and she didn't know if she could trust him with the Hannah secret yet so she'd had a lot of family obligations and charity projects. He'd invited her to watch a movie at his house, she'd accepted gladly since it was the first Saturday night in three weeks she'd gotten without a concert.

He met her at the door, and taken her coat off for her. She smiled as she watched him hang it neatly in the hall closet and then lead her into the living room. It was her first time in his house, and she'd pictured beige leather couches and glass coffee tables. Instead, his living room was composed of two green recliners, a matching rug, and a blue plaid love seat. There was a fluffy red blanket draped over the couch and popcorn sitting on low brown table in the middle of the square. He asked her if she wanted something to drink, she didn't, and they sat down.

When Miley saw the opening of the movie, her heart plummeted a little. A Cinderella Story, she hadn't watched that since…She gulped, squirming uncomfortably under his touch. He didn't seem to notice though, and she didn't want to ruin what he had clearly meant as a romantic gesture so she was quiet.

She was fine until they were playing 20 Questions in the gazebo. Chad Michael Murray went, in that mysterious sexy way of his, "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Hilary Duff, with that stupid wedding dress and matching mask, smiled and replied, "I'll let you know." And Connor had moved to kiss her. Miley didn't mean to but, for some reason or another, she found herself pushing him away.

"What's wrong now?" He practically groaned.

"I'm sorry…it's just this movie reminds me of-" She began, feeling tears stinging at the edges of her eyes.

"Who Jake? Your mother? The time your dog died?" She felt her lip tremble violently, she couldn't help it. He was being so mean. "Do you realize we've been going out two months and you've never kissed me, why is that Miley?" She didn't answer him. "Is it because you're a dyke or are you still fucking pissed about me being a shorty?"

"Neither, it's because you're a jack ass." And suddenly his fist hit her face. She fell backwards, more out of shock than the actual blow. When she looked up, he was offering her his hand.

"Oh my god, Miley," He took her hand and she immediately shook him off. "I'm so, so sorry, I've had a really stressful week-"

"I don't care," She said shakily. And then she walked on her shaky legs all the way to her car.

VI.

Running into Jake at a club wasn't the coincidence Miley made it seem. Truthfully it was the carefully planned result of something Miley had been struggling with for months. Miley was in love with Lilly. And Lilly was going to end up with Oliver if she didn't do something. Yes, she wanted the girl she loved to be happy. If they fell in love though, Miley would spend the rest of her life watching her trio become a two-some. Lilly and Oliver were already spending practically every waking moment together and if they were a couple she'd be surrounded by kisses and flirty little smiles and utter bliss. Much as she wanted to want them to be together, she couldn't. She was going to drive a wedge between them instead.

She had invited Lilly, but she'd chosen game night with the Okens over a night on the town as Lola. And the straw broke the camel's back. She'd taken Traci, who knew absolutely everything about everyone and, therefore, where the elusive Leslie Jacob Ryan was. Traci'd led her into Les Deux. Sure enough, there he was with some redheaded tramp wearing a skirt so short it basically qualified as underwear.

"Oh my god," Traci squeaked in her annoying nasally voice. "I cannot believe Jake Ryan had stooped so low. I bet he has a drinking problem." Miley, or Hannah as she was currently dressed, wasn't really listening. She was heading to the bar for some liquid courage. She'd just ordered an Appletini when she heard the shouting.

"Ohmigod! It's Hannah Montana!" A girl on the stool next to her screamed.

"You bitch! You broke Nick Jonas's heart!" Someone else yelled.

And before long, Best of Both Worlds was pumping through the speakers and Jake was walking towards her. "Hey Hannah," He smirked. "Can I buy you a drink?" The bartender set down her martini glass on the bar. "Or reimburse you for that one?" She laughed and twirled her hair, saying something witty. He countered and they kept going, drinking more and more.

They ended up on the dance floor somehow, grinding violently to the disappointment of every other girl in the place. His hands were on her hips and she felt them go lower and lower until he was doing something extremely inappropriate for the amount of camera phones in the room.

They got a cab. They went back to a hotel. Jake didn't even make it in the door he was so excited, and her first time ended up being on the floor of an elevator. They ran into their room afterwards and repeated in a bed, Jake fell asleep. Miley stayed awake. She went into the bathroom. She looked in the mirror for entirely too long, to the point where she saw something she didn't want to. Herself. The girl that was still thinking about Lilly after she'd just lost her virginity. So she did what any girl would do, she tried to make her jealous.

"Hey Lils, it's me. I know you're hanging out with Oliver…I just," She sucked her breath in, trying not to cry. "I might have done something really stupid." Except she definitely did. There was not might in mind. "I was out with Traci…and…and…we ran into Jake. I…I'm at his hotel room." There were little salty bullets running down her face now and they dripped into her mouth. Ah, the sweet taste of regret. "We…I…Lilly, I slept with him. God, I'm such an idiot." She was sobbing straight through now. God, Lilly probably didn't even care. "He said he still loves me, and he hasn't been able to forget about me." And she was sure it was all a tactic to get into her pants, or a drunk declaration he'd never meant to make. "And I…I melted." She lied, this would be the part to kill Lilly. "And somehow we ended up back here." She was quiet for a long time, so long Lilly probably would have hung up, "I love him though." She regretted it more than anything, and after an equally lengthy pause she decided to try the truth. "No I don't. I love you, Lilly. I know you're straight, and I know you're falling for Oliver but please don't hate me. You're all I ever think about. You're so smart and beautiful and perfect. I've never felt this way before. Just…just call me when you get this." And she hung up the phone.

VII.

Miley married Jake Ryan on November 16, 2022 at his home in Toluca Lake, California. There, in the backyard, surrounded by any number of people she loved and some fame-hungry people dying to sneak a couple pictures to the press. She promised to love him until death did them part. She promised to cherish him. She promised herself silently to lie for the rest of her life. None of these things were hard for her.

It was difficult walking down the aisle to a man she hadn't loved since she was 14. It was difficult to watch Oliver walk Lilly down the aisle before she went. It was impossible to look at Jake when she knew Lilly was behind her, unknowingly being everything she'd ever wanted. She got through it though. When everyone left, and Jake passed out in the bed she considered becoming her mother. She would poison herself with bleach or wood polish and die on her wedding day.

She wrote her suicide note, but then she got to the last line. What was she supposed to say? Don't tell Lilly. Lilly would know anyways.

She started crying on her kitchen floor, wood polish in hand. After a few minutes, she felt it slide out. "Miley, you're better than that." She looked up to see him standing there. "If you want out, we'll find you some way to be happy."

"I can't be happy," She wailed to him.

He slid down against the refrigerator and stroked her hair. "Of course you can, Miley, you get to control your own happiness, not anyone else."

She felt the tears rush down even faster, "But Lilly doesn't love me." She stopped as soon as she said it. She'd never admitted it before. It was almost freeing in a way. She looked at her new husband, waiting, needing his reaction.

He smiled, "She doesn't know what she's missing." For the first time in fifteen years she remembered why she'd fallen for Jake Ryan in the first place.

VIII.

She was 21 when everyone found out about Hannah Montana. She blamed Oliver, but it wasn't his fault. She'd been dancing onstage to True Friend, and then she invited the person she'd written the song about out. Lola brought Mike with her. When he'd leaned in to hug her, her hair got caught in his zipper. And as he pulled away, the wig came clean off. Everyone in the crowd had gasped dramatically and then started booing her off the stage. Lola tried to defend her, asking any of them to try and be a pop star and juggle a normal life along with it. Someone threw a combat boot at her.

Later, when they were all safely backstage. Oliver asked, genuinely stumped, "Why would someone attending a pop concert be wearing a combat boot?" And they'd had a good laugh to ease the tension from the day.

Miley was swarmed every moment for the next three years. Bike riding around town, at her yoga class, getting dinner with her best friends, even visiting Sarah in the hospital after she and Jackson had their first child.

And for the millionth time since she'd had a weird dream where Roxy was her guardian angel, she reversed her plea. She wished that there was never any Hannah, just a Miley.

IX.

After Miley left her post-sex-with-Jake message on Lilly's phone. Her best friend went a little bonkers. Only it wasn't Miley she was isolating as expected, but Oliver. Every time her friend of 13 years came near her she went running away in the other direction, dragging Miley with her. Needless to say Miley was overjoyed. She knew it was wrong, being so happy that her best friends were so miserable but every time Lilly called her to go to the mall when she normally would have been skating with Oliver or to get smoothies at Rico's, she cared a little less.

She was trying to get away from Jake to go find Lilly at their friend Todd's party one weekend. Jake was drunk though, and quite insistent on making out. "Lillypie," She heard somewhere in the background and it took every ounce of strength in her body not to turn her head towards Oliver's voice. "Todd needs…more…uh-"

"Booze?" She heard that perfect little voice suggest sarcastically. She turned Jake so she could watch them a little.

"Mmm," Olive mumbled, hugging her. Miley froze, Jake didn't seem to notice. He kept working his lips down to her neck. "Whas wrong?" Oliver asked, slurring his words like a drunk. "That's right," He slapped his forehead, giggling like a five-year-old. "We're avoiding each other because…" He trailed off, and Jake's face blocked Miley's view again.

"What?"

"Oh no," She heard him giggling again. "That would be really stupid of me." So what? He'd been plenty stupid enough before, hadn't he?

"Say it, Oliver," Lilly hissed and Miley smiled against her boyfriend's lips. He took this as a case of mistaken enthusiasm and made her miss the next part of their conversation with his stupid moaning and groaning about how he needed her.

"Okay," Oliver's voice said. "I'll tell you, but I can't…do it with them," There was a pause. "Doing that right there." Shit, they were leaving because of her. She heard them trot out of the kitchen, and then she pushed Jake away.

"I don't feel so good," She mumbled.

"Please don't puke in my beautiful hair," He said under his breath, Miley stomped away and towards the bathroom.

X.

Everyone who looked at Miley Stewart was convinced she had a charmed life.

But when her best friends fell for each other, instead of her, and both her parents had committed suicide, when her brother had two beautiful children and she had none. She didn't think so.

Especially not when everyone found out about the secret she was forced into.

Miley Stewart was convinced she was cursed.

AN: I'm giving them all different numbers. Oliver gets 7 because his is going to be called Lucky. Jackson will get five. And if I do Jake he'll get 8 (the number of letters in his first and last name). The dresses should be posted on my LJ soon for anyone who's wondering what they look like.