This is a new story, so before moving on PAY ATTENTION! Before you read this, it'd be great if you went and read snickers3339's story 'Last Chance At Freedom.' This story I got from that story. I got this idea based on what would happen if that story weren't a one shot, and with Theresa's permission decided to write it. So I'd like to thank her very much for allowing me to write this. You rock, Theresa, and this is dedicated to you.

So, once you read that oneshot, you can continue.

Enjoy, review, all that stuff!

-Jen

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana or anything recognizable. And the italicized stuff in this chapter is from Theresa's story, 'Last Chance At Freedom', used with her permission.

NOTE: This is supposed to be short. It's a prologue.

Everything always happened to me. You may think that's a good thing, but it isn't. Sure, being a part of the family that's one in a million central can be good, I mean Hannah was a good thing...but other times, it absolutely sucks.

Like now.

Yesterday, I had stood on the dock, waving up at the big cruise ship upon which my two best friends were. Oliver Oken, and Lilly Truscott. Oops. It's Lilly Oken now.

Lilly Oken. The two names together are foreign, they don't roll like they should. They're simply two names wrongly put together, and also a slap in the face.

As the boat finally eventually pulled away from the dock, I turned and found my car, drove home to my depressingly empty apartment.

Earlier that day, decked out in a ocean blue, floor length, silk gown; my hair in perfect curls pinned on top of my head, and my hands clutched around a bouquet of some white and blue flowers I didn't know the name of, I stood in a tent set up on the beach to the side of a freaking out mess in a wedding dress.

That mess happened to be my best friend. Lilly. Who happened to be marrying Oliver, my other best friend. I should be happy for them. I should be happy for her. After her mother died two days before the wedding was originally going to take place, she was finally happy again.

I was happy for her. I smiled brightly, laughed with her, giggled with her. But I was in show business. I was skilled in putting on an act.

I wanted to be truly, honest to God happy for her, believe me I did! I hated myself for not being able too. She had been through so much, she deserved this. She deserved to be happy.

I shoved my hands in to the pockets of my sweater, it was windy on the dock. My fingers brushed the frayed edge of the piece of paper. I don't know why I carried it around with me. I knew what it said by heart.

'Thank you for that last chance at freedom. I won't forget, ever.'

But he would, though she would never. The memories of that night played over and over in her head, like a movie on a loop to repeat.

She could clearly remember her mouth forming the words, spoken as a reminder and a plea all at once. "A lifelong commitment to one woman for the rest of your life." But he'd taken it differently.

He'd taken it as a way out, as a joy ride, as one last night of freedom before he was tied to Lilly for better or for worse, till death do they part.

As he'd kissed his way up and down my body, as our hips had slammed together over and over until we'd both reached the utmost pleasure...it all meant something different to each of us.

I sat in the chair, the white walls surrounding me, the clock's ticking seconds sounding loudly in my ear.

My fingers brushed the paper again. 'Thank you for that last chance at freedom. I won't forget, ever.' The words played in my head as I looked up at my doctor.

"Congratulations, Miley," She smiled brightly at me, "You're pregnant!"