HANNAH MONTANA: Single Since Birth

DISCLAIMER: I don't own this show or any of its characters and places. Exclusive rights belong to the Disney Channel and Michael Poryes.

Miley's Point of View

"Robert Lane, plus one."

My eyes drilled holes into the six-foot-one actor's head, thinking miserably to myself how I'll never have a 'plus one' next to my name. It's not that I'm not attractive enough to date anyone. It's just that, well, I haven't found the one.

Cheesy, I know, but true. Everyone thinks it's cliche, but when they're alone, they actually think about it for real, and how much they want it.

The little blond woman by the door checked the guest list. "Ah, yes," she smiled, after sometime of scanning the long list of celebrities, A-listers and VIPs invited to Ashley Tisdale's twenty-fourth birthday bash. "Mr. Lane, right through the door, please. And welcome."

The actor merely smiled back, nodded and led his non-celebrity girlfriend through the glass doors.

The woman continued looking at him, and when he was out of sight, she turned to me, the fake smile still plastered on her face. "Name, please?"

I rolled my eyes. Well, I would, anyway, if this wasn't a public event. Of course this woman knew who I was. I didn't mean it as a way of showing off, I just meant it as a duh-like response. "Um, Hannah," I replied. "Hannah Montana? Ring any bells?"

The girl scanned the list again. "Here," she said. "Please come on in, Miss Montana." She smiled at me again and turned to the person behind me.

I entered through the doors. "Right this way, Miss Montana," a short, bald man said, pointing towards the stairs leading to the party itself.

I nodded and smiled, heading up the stairs.

"Hannah!" Ashley said, trying to make her way through the mad crowd on the dance floor. Strings of strobe lights hovered above it, giving off a party-ready vibe. "Oh, my gosh," she went on, "look at you! You look gorgeous!" She pointed to my sequined dark blue mini-dress and three-inch gold sandals, apparently admiring them.

I took in her red vinyl halter top and black jeans, paired with ballet flats that were as vinyl-like and red as her top, matching it perfectly. "You don't look so bad, yourself," I told her, handing her a paper bag. That paper contained my gift for her, a designer dress she'd been eyeing for weeks. "Happy birthday."

"Oh, thanks," Ashley replied, taking the bag with a smile.

"Well, if you'll excuse me," I said, "I think I'll go around and experience the party. You sure know how to throw a good one!"

Ashley winked. "You know it. I'll see you later." With that, she moved on to greet the other guests and accept more gifts.

I went around, seeing familiar faces and new ones; friends and fiends; hotties and notties; faces I'd love to see and avoid at the same time.

The truth is, there's only one face that falls into that category.

As I turned from the bar, holding my non-alcoholic drink in one hand, I walked right into Jake Ryan, completely spilling half the contents of my glass onto his really expensive shirt.

"Hannah," he smiled, looking just as gorgeous as he was three years ago, when we still went to Seaview Middle School together. He didn't seem mad that I'd ruined his shirt at all. "Long time no see."

"I second that," I replied, trying to play it cool. Does he recognize me? Does he still think of my alter-ego? Does he remember everything? I looked down at the giant spot on his shirt. "Sorry about that. We kind of ran into each other."

Jake grinned, still appearing to hold no grudge against me whatsoever. "Nah, it's okay. I should have watched where I was going."

I forced a smile. Jake went to Romania, leaving me dazed after that one kiss we'd shared just outside of Rico's Surf Shack, and returned four months later, only to find me in love with someone else. It broke his heart. He moved away and I hadn't seen him - well, formally, anyway - since. It had been three years. I had to wonder; did he still like me?

"How have you been?" Jake asked, apparently clueless of the effect that he still had on me. Of course. He still didn't know that the singer/actress who played one of his love interests on his now-defunct show Zombie High was the same girl who made him fall in love off-screen. Or rather, the same girl who eventually realized that he really was the only guy for her, and who really regretted the way things ended for them.

"Oh, you know, I've been really busy touring," I replied. "And the rehearsals for my Broadway show have just begun. I've been doing great." I put my half-empty glass down. "How about you? What's keeping you busy?"

"New movie," Jake said. "It's still in pre-production, so we're still going through rehearsals and stuff." He pointed to another set of stairs leading to the second floor. "Do you..." he began, as if searching for the right words. He started again. "Do you want to...talk?"

"We're already talking," I informed him.

Jake shook his head and waved his hands. "No, no, no. I meant in private? You know, to catch up on each other's lives?" He sighed. "I'm not really into the whole party scene."

I chuckled. "Yeah, to tell you the truth, me neither," I agreed. "I know I go to lots of parties, but mostly I just sit back and watch. I'm not much of a people person. So, yeah, let's go upstairs."

"Just like someone I know..." Jake seemed relieved, but inside, I was going crazy. I couldn't handle being with him in public, and now I was going to be with him...in a room? Alone? Oh, no, please spare me.

We went up the stairs. I entered the room, still calming my nerves, and Jake closed the door behind him, instantly making me feel nervous all over again.

"Sit down," Jake said, patting the spot beside him. He'd already been sitting on the bed.

"Okay," I replied, still as nervous as hell. I sat down and wiped my hands on the skirt of my dress. They tended to be sweaty whenever I was nervous. Now was a perfect example.

"I gotta be honest," Jake began, brushing a lock of platinum blond hair away from his eyes. "Things have..." He sighed, struggling to get the words out. "Things have not been..." He sighed again. "...great for me. I know a new movie's great, and all, since it's supposed to be a remake of a classic. But..." He sighed, the longest of all three.

I didn't reply at first, waiting for him to continue. When I sensed that he wasn't gonna speak anymore, I began talking. "Is this about a girl?" I asked, all Oprah-like, as if we were on a talk show and I was the host. It made my nervousness go away somehow.

"Yes," Jake let out, with a hand gesture as big as a television.

I nodded, considering it. "And is it a girl I happen to know of?"

Jake shook his head. "I think I told you about her once, but you must have forgotten already. It's been years. She's not exactly..." He shrugged. "I don't know. Famous."

"Oh, my gosh, you're totally talking about Ruth Peterson," I said, snapping my fingers.

"No, no way!" Jake yelled. He must have really despised the girl. "Remember that episode that you filmed with me? The one of Zombie High?"

"How could I forget?" I said, shuddering, the thoughts of kibble and gravy and that kiss with Demon Dog (I think he really is a demon) haunting me. I still wake up in a pool of cold sweat, trying to calm my nerves, whenever I fall asleep thinking about it.

"Then you must remember me telling you about this girl named Miley," Jake said.

"Hmm..." My heart started beating, like ten times per second. "Miley, Miley, Miley..." I shook my head, pretending to forget myself. "Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry."

"Well, nevermind, I'll tell you anyway," Jake told me. "You see, we kind of had a..." He took a deep breath. "...falling out about three years ago, when we were fourteen. We promised to date each other when I got back from Romania. But when I returned, she was dating some junior named Stan. She was dating a guy two years her senior, one who plays basketball and video games and doesn't do well in school! I mean, what was she thinking, leaving me for someone like that? I think all she saw in him was his looks. She told me she would never like jocks. Turns out she lied. Not only did she break my trust and my heart, she made me realize that she doesn't love me anymore. Or rather, she didn't love me at all. Ans now I'm still trying to cope."

I burst into tears, unable to hide my feelings any longer. "No, you don't get it! You don't get it at all! I've always been in love with you, Jake, and I still am!" Realizing that I'd blown it, I quickly tried to recover. "Um, I mean, I think she's always been in love with you, and maybe she still is!" I sobbed, wiping my tears with my still-sweaty hand.

Jake was looking down for a moment, but then he looked up, his face showing pure confusion. "What did you just say...?" His eyes narrowed; everything was sinking in. "Do you have some kind of relation to Miley?"

I was stuck. Two voices were battling it out in the back of my head:

What's the point of lying? You like Jake, he likes you, you live happily ever after. Don't you want that?
But she's not sure, you dope. What if Jake was suspecting that you're Hannah all along, Miley, and just did this to find out the truth about you? Maybe that's his way of plotting revenge.

You can only lie about so much.

And you can only reveal so much. Your personal life is depending on this!

How do you know that?

I just do, okay?

Well, you're wrong.

You aren't exactly what I'd call right, either.

I realized that one voice, the one telling me to let it out, was Miley, and the other, the one who's telling me to keep it hidden, was Hannah. I wasn't sure who I was supposed, but I joined in anyway:

Shut up, you two! You're not helping!
Come on, uh, whoever you are, look deep into your heart. What do you want? Would you rather sit and stay Jake-less and miserable, not to mention single, for the rest of your life? Or would you rather risk it all and be happy for once?

Who said she isn't happy? She's perfectly fine with her popstar career with her loyal friends. Who knows what Jake's intentions really are? Come on, think, you, think.

But I don't really know what to choose...

Both voices spoke at once:

Then you're on your own. Good luck. You'll need it.

I shook the conversation (which was really just a little talk with myself) out of my head and tried to make the better decision.

Without thinking, I said, "Yes."

"What?" Jake asked. He, apparently, was also talking to himself in his mind.

I sighed. Miley - err, I mean, I - was right; I should have just told Jake the truth.

Right from the start.

"I said, yes," I told Jake, slowly whipping my wig off. "You still don't get it, do you? I've been Miley all along! I think I've been giving off some clues without noticing. I thought my eyes could tell you anything."

"I think I've thought of it before," Jake replied, holding a hand out to touch my hair, unraveling its waves. "I was just too oblivious to actually take it seriously." He cleared his throat. "But... why?"

"What do you mean, why?" I asked.

"Why now? Why did you keep it from me? Why did you leave me for someone else? Why are you telling me now?" Jake went on, obviously still trying to understand everything.

I shook my head. "I just can't answer that now."

"Promise me you'll explain it when you can," Jake said.

"I promise, I do," I said, raising my right hand. "Just...not right now, okay? I need time."

"Will you answer this question for me, then?" Jake asked.

"What question?" I replied.

Without saying anything, Jake leaned in and kissed me. It felt amazing. The kiss said it all: Will you be my girlfriend?

I kissed him back. Yes.

I sighed, leaning against him. "You know, you're the first boyfriend I've ever had. I'm what you call..." I shrugged. "Single since birth."

Jake put an arm around me. "Until now."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Until now."

They were having fireworks outside. But I guess Jake and I had been making fireworks of our own all along.

So what if things still needed to be worked out? So what if they weren't clear?

Jake and I were determined to make it work.

And it's a risk I was willing to take.

(A/N: I loved that one! How about you? Did you like it? Did it need some work? Please tell me through your reviews; I love reading your comments! Your opinions really matter to me. They help me write better - and sometimes even get ideas! Watch out for more new oneshots. Thanks!)