A/N: Hello. Um, well, this is my first Hannah Montana fic, so I hope its good? Its a one-shot about graduation and the song is "I Will Remember You" by Sarah McLachlan. Song lyrics are in italics.
i will remember you
"Mornin', Bud," she heard. She opened one eye reluctantly and found Robbie, her father, sitting on the edge of her bed, just as she had every morning for the past eighteen years. She sighed and closed her eye again, rolling over. Her father chuckled, shaking her gently. "Maybe you didn't hear me," he said, clearing his throat, "I said 'Mornin', Bud!'" She groaned, shoving her face down deeper into the pillow.
will you remember me
"Shoot, my daughter's going deaf," he laughed, nudging her. After a few seconds of no response he sighed, "Maybe this is a good thing, this disability we seem to be suddenly forming. It will help me explain why Hannah Montana was so flat at her last concert."
"WHAT?!" she squealed, bolting up. "I was not flat! You have to be kidding me! I sang perfectly at the last concert just like I sing perfectly every other time. And even if I was flat its not like I need any criticism from you! You're my father, you're supposed to constantly praise me and-"
"She's not deaf," he said, throwing his hands up in the air in mock praise. "Thank you, sweet Jesus!"
She narrowed her eyes and settled back down into her bed. "That was cruel and heartless," she hissed, crossing her arms across her chest.
don't let your life pass you by
"I agree," Robbie said. "Cruel and heartless and it worked perfectly!" Miley rolled her eyes and then closed them, resting her head on the pillow. "Oh no, you don't!" he said, shoving her lightly. "I went to a lot of trouble to wake you up and you are not about to just fall back asleep.
She sighed, opening her eyes hesitantly. "I don't want to get up, Daddy," she whispered.
He laughed. "Miley Stewart, you never want to get up."
"No!" she said, rolling over so her back was to him. "I don't mean that. I mean I don't want to get up today, specifically today!"
"I know you're scared, Miles," he said, stroking her head, "But you've got to get up and you've got to face it."
She sighed again, a tear rolling softly and quietly down her cheek. "I could just stay in bed for the rest of my life."
"Or you could get up and enjoy your life."
She sat up reluctantly. "I'm getting up." He smiled and hugged her before walking out of the room. Her eyes strayed to dresser where numerous photos of her, Oliver, and Lilly sat staring back at her. Another tear rolled down her cheek as she whispered, "The end."
weep not for the memories
---
Lilly Truscott had never been one to care about her looks. In fact, she could recall a time at which she said, "Look, Mom, you may think the bow is cute, but it seriously hurts my head. So I'm done." And she threw on a t-shirt and shorts and went skateboarding.
And that's the way it was.
remember the good times that we had
There had been certain times which she had cared how she looked: the first day of high school, her first date, homecomings, proms, but today she cared more than she ever had before. Today she had to look perfect.
She had awoken at five thirty a.m. sharp and had since been sitting in front of the mirror wishing her ears were smaller and her hair was curlier. But it wasn't. And she had had to deal with that.
i let them slip away from us when things got bad
After four wrong outfits, three curling iron burns, and two redo make-up applications she looked in the mirror and said, "Decent."
Her shoulder length blonde hair was curled at the ends and was pulled held back from her face with a black barrette. Gold shadow dusted her eyelids and made her gray eyes sparkle. Her dress was white with a periwinkle sash and hit just above her knees.
She was beautiful, but to her it was just, "Decent."
how clearly i first saw you smilin' in the sun
She heard a tiny gasp from the doorway to her room and turned around. Her mother leaned in the doorframe, a camera in her hands and a tear in her eye. "Lilly," she whispered, bringing a hand up to her mouth, "You look stunning."
Lilly smiled, wrapping her arms around her mother. "Thanks, Mom," she said, resting her head on her mother's shoulder.
"I couldn't be more proud of you," her mother said, kissing her daughter's forehead.
wanna feel your warmth upon me, i wanna be the one---
"That was a good one!" Oliver Oscar Oken, Sr. exclaimed, grinning at the photo on his digital camera. "Okay, let's see…" he mused, "Why don't we get one of you over by the tree?"
"Oh!" Mrs. Olivia Oken shrieked. "Great idea, Ollie! Move on over toward the door, then, Oliver."
Oliver sighed and scratched his head of shaggy, brown hair as he walked toward the front door. He had tried to count how many pictures had been taken, but had lost count around seventy-six.
i'm so tired, but i can't sleep"Smile!" his parents sang in unison and Oliver slapped a grin on his face. "Brilliant!" his father cheered as the picture flashed on the digital camera. "Should we take any more?"
"I think that's enough, Dad," Oliver said quickly. His parents looked disappointed so he quickly added, "Until after the ceremony, I mean."
standin' on the edge of something much too deep
Sighing, his dad smiled. "Sounds good, son. Go get your things and I'll drive you to the school."
Oliver grinned and bolted into the house. As he began to leap up the stairs, a voice called out to him.
"Oliver?"
He whipped around to see Ophelia, his fourteen-year-old sister, standing at the bottom of the stairs, fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater, staring at the floor.
its funny how we feel so much, but can't say a wordShe met his gaze, her bright green eyes watery. "I just," she sighed. "I just wanted to tell you that… no matter how much… no matter how much I pick on you or argue with you or tell you that I hate you… you're… you're really not that bad to have around."
Oliver smiled and hopped down the stairs, wrapping his arms around his sister.
"I love you, Ophelia," he murmured.
"I love you, too," she whispered, hugging him with all her might. "But don't tell anyone that."
we are screaming inside, but we can't be heard
---
"Oliver Oken."
Oliver shook the principal's hand and took his diploma, grinning like an idiot and pausing for a picture before he stepped off of the stage.
In two months, Oliver would leave Malibu and head to New York City where he had enrolled in New York University. There, he planned to spend four years earning his film degree and after that he was completely clueless as to what would happen with his life. (But he knew it would be good.)
i'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to loseThe speaker ran through a few more names before reaching, "Miley Stewart."
Miley practically skipped up to the stage and graciously took her diploma, shaking the principal's had wildly. As she headed off the stage, she let out a little 'whoop' and pumped a fist into the air.
Miley had decided not to go to college, but instead to focus on furthering Hannah Montana's career. She would leave in a week for a six month European tour promoting her brand new (and very successful) album.
clinging to a past that doesn't let me chose
A few more names were called and then, "Lillian Truscott."
Lilly tentatively walked on stage, nervously shaking the principal's hand and with trembling fingers, taking her diploma. As she began to walk off, she tripped and a gasp was heard from the audience, but, blushing furiously, she stood up, shrugging and grinning as she hurried the rest of the way off stage.
Lilly left in a month for a trip to Europe with her grandparents. She would leave directly from there for UCLA where she had no clue what she would study. She liked to leave things open ended.
once there was a darkness, oh, a deep and endless night
As the ceremony reached its close, Miley Stewart, the elected class speaker, was called to the stage. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she grabbed her note cards and confidently walked to the podium. There, she cleared her throat and began.
"To be completely honest," she started, "I spent about a month thinking about writing this speech and about an hour actually writing it. When I was told to write about the future, about our future, I thought about so much that I could say, so many people that I could quote, but none of this seemed to sum up what I thought needed to be said. And to tell you the truth I sat at my desk for an hour staring at a blank sheet of paper before I finally gave up and went to do what I do best: shop."
She paused for laughter and took a deep breath before continuing. "As I walked into the store, I noticed the shopkeeper began to follow me around. She asked me multiple times if I needed her help, she stayed two steps behind my feet, and she narrowed her eyes any time I picked up something to look at it. And that's when it hit me. She thought I was a thief. Now, let me tell you, this shopkeeper had no reason to think this. I'd been into the store several times; I'd never caused a scene; I'd never horsed around while in the store, and to top it all off: I've never stolen anything in my life. But she still followed me around. Because I was a teenager."
She paused again, her eyes meeting her fathers. She smiled and moved on, "I began to realize that when this shopkeeper and other adults around the world looked at a group of teenagers, they didn't see what I saw. While I saw future doctors, lawyers, activists, leaders, politicians, and outstanding members of society, she saw some kids who fooled around the mall, she saw some currently (or soon to be) pregnant teenage girls, some kids who were dealing drugs or drinking underage or stealing. And I was furious!"
"While I seriously considered, kicking her shins and chewing her out, I reconsidered and decided that instead, I would prove her wrong. I would prove to her that my generation, my classmates, my friends, were not the dirty, idiotic, know-nothing children that she saw, but the brilliant and talented group of people that I saw. And suddenly I knew what I wanted to say about the future. It's ours to take. So take it! And mold it the way you want it to be. Break stereotypes, dream big, and live life! Its yours to live!"
She grinned, and stacked her note cards, coming to a conclusion. "To the faculty of Seaview High School: thank you for keeping us from being the group of people that the shopkeeper thought she saw and for turning us into the group of people we want to be. To our family and friends: thank you for raising us, for being there for us, for supporting us, and for loving us. We love you more than words could ever describe. And to my classmates: when I woke up this morning, I was upset. I thought that this was the end for us. But as the day progressed, I realized that this… this is just the beginning."
"Congratulations, Class of 2011! We did it!"
don't let your life, pass you by
weep not for the memories
A/N: Please review! I want feedback! I think I'll be posting another HM one-shot soon, and I'm working on a full on story. Thanks for reading...