DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything except the plot, and the Gossip Girl stuff goes to CW. This isn't going to be a Gossip Girl style story. It's just a way to work in the Hannah Montana aspect, in a different way! :) Please review, let me know what you think :) THANKS

Miley climbed the stairs slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. If she didn't wake him, he wouldn't get angry. She reached the landing, thinking she had pulled off the impossible. Miley's elation was short lived, when she saw him standing at the end of the hall, in his bedroom doorway. Miley tried to make the short distance to her room as quick as possible, but he saw her. He roared Miley's name, the fury in his voice stopping her in her tracks.

"Where have you been?" he thundered, swaying on the spot.

"At Demi's," Miley said, barely raising her voice above a whisper. "I got asked to stay for dinner. I left you a message on the machine. Didn't you get it?"

"If I had of gotten that message, do you think I would be asking you where you were?" he slurred, having trouble completing the sentence.

Miley finally turned to face her dad, her lips pressed into a thin line as she attempted to control her emotions. There he stood, in the same pair of shorts as yesterday, his filthy robe barely covering him. His face sported a few day old stubble, making him look dishevelled and dirty. His smell was offensive, and Miley could see a near empty bottle of Jack in his hand, and she presumed it wasn't the first of the day.

"Did you go to work today?" asked Miley, already knowing the answer.

Her father hadn't worked for most of the year; he was a majority share holder of a medium sized record label, so technically he could still earn an income without having to do anything. It was a fraction of what he was getting before he gave up his spot a chairman, but enough for the two of them to get by.

"Go back downstairs and clean up the kitchen."

"I've got homework to do," she whined, instantly regretting it.

"You should have thought about that before you went missing for hours doing who knows what! You should put your family before your bullshit social life, you ungrateful and disobedient little bi-"

"I'm sorry, okay! I'll go do it now!" Miley interrupted her father's rant, trying to prevent his anger escalating.

"If your mother were here to see how you've turned into a rude, obnoxious little brat…"

"But she's not here!" Miley yelled, her temper flaring at the mention of her mother. "You act like you're the only one hurting, Dad! It's been months and all you do is stay in your room, drinking yourself into a drunken stupor hoping it will numb the pain. Is it working, Dad? You think she'd be ashamed of me? Have you taken a look at yourself lately? She died, Dad. Not you and not me! You've stopped living your life, and if you're trying to cut me out of it too, it's working. You've already lost Jackson! He's gone away to college and I wouldn't be surprised if he never comes back. I don't blame him, because I hate living here! I hate being scared to come home! I hate you!"

Miley was out of breath by the time she'd finished shouting, and she immediately clapped her hand over her mouth and she realised what she'd said. Her father turned red with anger, but managed to calmly walk over to her. Miley felt frozen to the spot, shaking but unable to move. Her dad glared at her with a look so fierce, Miley was suddenly terrified. She'd provoked an intoxicated, emotionally unstable man, and yet she couldn't find it in within herself to run away. It seemed like it happened in slow motion, he raised his right hand, lifted it across his body, Miley squeezed her eyes shut, then felt the burning pain as he swung his arm, the back of his hand connected with Miley's face. She yelped, taking a step backwards and clutching her cheek. Her dad shoved her with such force that she fell into the wall, slumping down it. With that, he turned and went back to his room, slamming his door closed. Hot tears pricked in Miley's eyes, and her chest shook with silent sobs. As she sat on the floor, holding her face, she tried to keep herself together. She had school tomorrow, and like always, she'd have to pretend everything was okay.

Miley stared at her reflection in the mirror. She winced as she tenderly touched the bruise under her eye, the purple mark left where her father's knuckles had crashed into her cheek. There were small blemishes on her shoulders were he'd roughly grabbed her before throwing her into the wall. They would be easily covered; she could just put on her school shirt. For the first time in a while, Miley would have to wear make up to cover the evidence on her face.

Miley pulled on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans that had strategic rips down the legs and slipped her arms into a fresh white school shirt that she had to launder herself. Unlike a lot of people at her school, she didn't mind having to wear a uniform. It was more like a dress code; they all had to wear a white shirt with the school's emblem embroidered onto the chest pocket. They had to wear something dark on the bottom, but it didn't matter if it was jeans, a skirt or shorts. The school colours were navy and sky blue, so people tended to opt for those colours when they needed to cover up with a hoodie or sweater. If you were a jock, you wore the letterman jackets, if you were a cheerleader, you wore that very short, very revealing uniform every single day. Miley could remember a time where she was counted as part of that crew, but she was constantly taunted by them now to serve as a reminder of her very public fall from grace.

Shoving her feet into a pair of almost aqua high top Converse, quickly rolling up the already short sleeves of her shirt, Miley tip toed out into the hall. She looked to her dad's room, and was surprised to see the door was open. She could see the bed was unmade, but her father wasn't in it. Racing downstairs, she called out to him, but found the house deserted. Leaning against the kitchen counter, Miley finally noticed a note taped to the fridge door. Her breathing became erratic, fear filling her. She carefully removed the note, and unfolded it. There, in her dad's handwriting, was a scrawled goodbye.

Bud,

Gone back to Tennessee for a while.

Left you the credit card and some cash, my car keys are on the hook.

I know you can take care of yourself.

This is the best thing I can do for you right now.

Miley let the tears fall, pouring down her cheeks. He hadn't called her by that nickname since her mother had died. He'd gone back home. Would he see Jackson while he was there? Would he really come back? Feeling panicked, she slipped her phone from her back pocket and tried calling him. The automated voice told her that this number was no longer connected. Miley then tried to call Jackson, who quickly told her that he hadn't heard from him in over a month, but would let her know if he turned up there. Miley didn't want to worry her Grandma Ruthie, or Mamaw, so decided against contacting them. Even though she'd screamed at him the night before, Miley was hurt that he'd decided running away from her was better than face his problems. Now she really was all alone.

"Miley!"

Miley turned to see her best friend running across the quad. Miley had been late to school and didn't have time to catch up with her friends before class, which she had been almost thankful for.

"Where were you this morning?" asked her blonde haired friend, tucking her skateboard under her arm and settling herself next to Miley on a bench.

And there it was. Straight up, a seemingly harmless question that actually was so complicated. Where was I? Miley thought. Well, finding out my dad abandoned me. Why? Because he's so messed up that I made him angry last night at he hit me. Why? Because I yelled at him because he mentioned my mother. Why? Because my mother got sick and then she died, and he can't get past that. So, this morning, I was trying to figure out how I'm going to do this all by myself.

"Alarm didn't go off so I didn't wake up in time," Miley lied, shrugging her shoulders.

She hated lying to Lilly, but it was only to protect her. They've been best friends for so long, that if she told Lilly, she would take it all on herself and Miley didn't want to be a burden to anyone. Lilly knew Miley's dad wasn't doing well, but Miley never told her about how bad it was. After she'd cried herself to sleep, Miley swore to herself last night she'd never tell anyone that he hit her. It was going to be easier if she just pretend it never happened. Miley had gotten good at pretending.

Lilly eyed her suspiciously. What Miley didn't know, was how much Lilly was aware of the situation. She was constantly worried about her best friend, but she didn't know what to do for her. Lilly knew Miley's father had become an alcoholic, and was making life hell for her. But Miley put on such a brave face around everyone else that Lilly figured maybe it was easier to wait for Miley to come to her.

"Miley!"

It was Demi's turn to holler to her friend, bounding up on the other side of Miley. Demi was Miley's last remaining link to the popular crowd. She was the only one who had remained friends with Miley after the rest of the group had turned on her. Miley didn't mind so much now, because a month after she was shut out from the clique, her life had changed. She'd stopped caring about stupid, superficial stuff like climbing the social ladder. Everything seemed so much less important after she'd lost her mother.

"Hey, Lilly. Did you guys see the new kids?" Demi asked cheerfully, politely acknowledging Miley's company.

Demi was one of the only people accepted into the jocks and cheerleaders who was actually genuine. She tolerated Lilly, even if she thought she was weird. Demi was always civil, and never joined in on the harassment of the pair by the others. Demi even tried to stop it, but Miley had insisted she didn't bother. Miley didn't want her to jeopardise her spot in the group and therefore the team, because she knew Demi wanted to get a scholarship into a college for cheerleading, because it would allow her to pursue music in a way that satisfied her parents. Demi's parents were overachievers, and had instilled that in Demi, pushing her to get good grades and join extracurricular activities. It was them who had sent Demi for piano lessons, but they never dreamed she would want to pursue it. So, as a compromise, Demi was going to get into a college on a sporting scholarship to a school where she could double major, which meant she could study music too.

"What new kids?" replied Lilly, giving Demi a small smile.

Lilly was always a little uneasy around Demi. She often wondered how Miley could be best friends with two people who were completely opposite. Demi wore skirts, Lilly wore cut off denim shorts. Demi jumped around waving her pompoms, Lilly loved riding her skateboard. Demi was the ultimate girly girl, and Lilly was more at home as one of the boys. Yet, it was Lilly who had the boyfriend. Oliver had been friends with Miley and Lilly since the start of junior high, and now they were seniors and Lilly and Oliver finally got together.

"Demi, you need to come here now!"

The three girls turned to see Mikayla standing a few feet away, her hand on her hip, staring daggers. Mikayla hated Miley, ignored Lilly, and only put up with Demi because everyone in the school adored her and she risked anarchy if she tried to ostracize her.

Demi rolled her eyes and giggled at the other two, pulling a face of mock disgust as she jumped up to meet Mikayla.

"I'll talk to you later," the dark haired beauty told them, waving goodbye, who didn't believe in being mean to anyone.

"I don't understand," Lilly said, shaking her head. "I swear more people hate Mikayla than love her. Why is she queen of the school?"

"Because people fear her," stated Miley, turning to look at her friend.

"You're not scared of her," argued Lilly. "Why did you let her do what she did?"

"Because I don't care. She can have the crown. For me, there are way more important things in my life. For her, nothing will ever be better for her than her reign during high school."

"Still-"

"Still nothing, Lil."

Miley stood up just as the bell rang, and she headed for her locker. Leaving Lilly behind, she approached her bay to see a curly haired boy trying to open the combination on her locker. She could see he was frustrated, his face was scrunched up and he was holding a little piece of paper in his hand that had looked like it was been balled up in anger.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, annoyed at this boy for trying to break into her locker.

"Trying to open my locker, what does it look like I'm doing?" he shot back.

"It looks like you're trying to open my locker," spat Miley, clearly overreacting but non-caring about her attitude to this stranger.

"Then why does it say locker 246 is mine? Right here on this official school transfer paper?"

He shoved the bit of paper in her face, and she snatched it from him. He was correct, it did say his locker was going to be 246, but it was impossible, because Miley's locker was 246. Looking from the paper, to the locker beside her that she knew was empty ever since Jake Ryan had vacated it exactly 7 months ago.

"Yours is probably that one," she told him, pointing to 248. "No one is using that, and I'm clearly using this one."

Grumbling, he tried opening the locker she'd indicated. Just as he was about to open it, Miley stopped him.

"Wait, it will get stuck if you pull it straight open," she explained, before hitting the middle of the locker door. "There you go."

"Thanks," he muttered, swinging it open. "Why is your locker in the boys section?"

"Mix up with my name," said Miley, beginning to spin the dial on her own lock. "Where'd you transfer from?"

"West Coast," was all he offered.

"To Malibu. Huh," mused Miley, taking in his appearance.

He wore straight skinny legged black jeans, his shirt was half untucked. He had a black leather satchel swung over his shoulder. He had a mess of brown curls, a few falling across his forehead and into his eyes. His big, mesmerising brown eyes. The pools of liquid chocolate suddenly met hers and burned with an intensity that startled Miley. Forget his lightly toned muscles, and his flawless skin with hint of it being newly tanned. Forget his strong jaw line and unsmiling pink lips. His eyes bore into hers as he obviously finally noticed Miley too.

His gaze traced over her, noting the missing stereotypical outfit of a girl at this school. Miley's long auburn curls fell down past her shoulders, and although she'd tried to hide her bruises, on her arms you could still see her deep tan that had come from years spent in the Californian sunshine. Her dark jeans hugged her petite curves, and made her already long legs seem to go on for days. Her blue eyes, although absent of the once unmistakable sparkle, were still striking. One look from Miley could pierce through your soul, and the stranger was caught off guard by the stunning girl who was giving him attitude.

Clearly her throat awkwardly, Miley successfully interrupted the moment. Snapping out of his reverie, the stranger reverted back to his standoffish demeanour. He turned his back on Miley and became very interested in putting his books away. Confused by his behaviour, Miley started pulling her English notebook from the pile. Deciding that it wasn't because of his looks, but because of the odd tingly feeling she got when their eyes connected, she tried to start a conversation again.

"So-"

The stranger cut her off before she'd barely begun.

"I'm late. Do you know where Room A4.13 is?"

He hit his locker closed, and looked expectantly at Miley. Miley was offended by his rudeness, but she could hardly say 'no' considering that's where she was headed.

"Miley?"

Miley's name was called for the third time that day, and she saw Oliver approaching her, ready to walk with her to class. They had third period English together, and since their lockers were closer, they always walked together and met Lilly at their desks up the back of the room. He was waiting patiently for her, glancing between Miley and the stranger, witnessing the cold exchange.

"Actually, I was just on my way th-"

"Never mind."

Miley span back around to face the stranger, amazed to see him walking away in the wrong direction.

"You're going to wrong way!" she yelled after him, but he just ignored her.

"Who was that?" asked Oliver, lazily wrapping his arm around Miley's shoulder, not noticing her flinch as he came into contact with her bruises. "Are you wearing make up?"

"I don't know. Some new kid. He's a jerk," answered Miley. "And, yeah. I am."

"Why?" Oliver looked incredulously at his girlfriend's best friend, at his best friend. "Since when?"

"I, um…" Miley tried to come up with a plausible excuse, other than 'because my dad backhanded me'. "Have a job interview… after school…"

"Ha!" snorted Oliver. "As if you do! You don't need to work; your daddy is rolling in it. Everyone's family is. That's why you go to this high school. Best education money can buy!"

Miley had to laugh at Oliver's dramatic monologue, knowing he was exactly right. Seaview High was in the heart of Malibu, the perfect rich trust fund kids' territory.

"Did you hear what Hannah Montana posted about Amber and Ashley?" Oliver queried, already forgetting his previous question about the make up.

Oliver went on to describe in detail the latest blog on an underground school website.

It was deadset Gossip Girl style, and the popular crowd thrived on it. The truth was though, it started 7 months ago. It started when Jake Ryan cheated on Miley with Mikayla. Mikayla successfully stole the quarterback, making her the new monarch of the school, who had the authority to kick Miley out of the group. That's when Miley made up an alter ego – Hannah Montana. She was the eyes and the ears of the school, and because Miley knew so much scandalous gossip already, she was posting it on the site for the whole school to see within days. What was meant to be revenge for the way Miley was treated, an attempt to restore herself to the top of the food chain, turned out a lot differently. The first month since the site went live; it had more hits per day than Facebook. The student body couldn't get enough of the blasts Miley was sending out, but of course no one knew it was her. But because she was now on the outer, she was running out of new truths to post, when she found that people started sending tip offs in. But a few weeks later, when her mother died, Miley deserted the plan. She no longer cared about ruining their lives. But apparently, other people did. The posts kept coming, because someone had found a way to make the site into a forum where anyone could post the gossip. Miley still had the admin password to the site, so she played unofficial host and editor of the site from time to time, making sure nothing about her friends got on there. Other than that, the site was no longer hers. It had spun out of control, the phenomenon catching on like wild fire. If Gossip Girl was the one and only source into the lives of Manhattan's elite, Hannah Montana was Malibu's own. And no one had ever found out her identity, and now no one ever would. Because there was no single person responsible, and if you made it to the pages of Hannah Montana, you became something of a celebrity. People thought you mattered if you were worth gossiping about.

That's why Miley didn't listen to a word Oliver said. 1, because she could easily log on and check it out first hand and 2, because she didn't care about the gossip or the people it was about.

"Olly! Miley!" Lilly called out to them, waving them over to their usual seats.

Miley started zoning out, easily bored by the teacher's monotonous voice. He drawled on and on about poetry, and Miley's attention easily wandered. It was only when the teacher told people to get into pairs for some project that Miley had heard about, that she sat up in her chair. Looking to her left, she saw that Oliver and Lilly had already started. Of course they would choose each other. I wish Demi was in this class, Miley thought wistfully.

"I don't have a partner," Miley told the teacher, raising her hand.

"Of course you don't," sniggered Amber, one of Mikayla's minions.

If Mikayla was the evil step mother, Amber and Ashley were definitely the ugly step sisters.

Suddenly the door burst open, and someone entered the room. Miley didn't bother to look at who it was, because frankly, she didn't care. She was too busy scowling at Amber, ready to unleash a torrent of abuse when the teacher interrupted her thoughts.

"Luckily for you, Miss Stewart, I just found you one. Hope you're looking forward to spending the next 3 weeks working on this poem together, in class and after school. Miley, meet the transfer student, Nick."

Miley looked up as two shadows fell across her desk. Ignoring her teacher's presence, Miley groaned as her eyes met with what were now familiar chocolate ones.