Hello to all of you readers. This is me introducing all of you my newest fanfic. I've had this idea nagging at me for quite some time, but I wanted to wait until the series was over to start writing and publishing it. While I am aware that the number of readers may be lower now, at least now I know I'll write a story compatible with the series, even if it will mean bending a few things here and there.

If you want to know what I mean exactly, you'll have to read it.

And for the record, while this story may be rated M, it's more for a matter of safety than anything else. I'm not sure how 'M' I'm going to make it.

Last, the usual disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana, or anything related with it.

But still, I hope you enjoy this.

Prologue – Miley, Accept the Fact(s)

It was often said that there were some things in life you only had one chance to do. It was also said that when said chance came, one should jump on it and hold onto it as hard as possible, otherwise it could get away on the least expected occasion. And now, as she lay awake at night, Miley Stewart faced the full weight of the painful knowledge that she had thrown to waste the chance to have the most valuable thing she would ever come across in her life.

No. She hadn't thrown away one chance. She had thrown away several of them, because she certainly had had plenty of chances. She could have told him how she felt anytime. But she had always been afraid to take the risk. Worse, she had always believed she would have all the time in the world to do it. After all, it wasn't as if what she wanted to get was highly disputed.

And now, thanks to her fear and to her excess of optimism, her chances were over forever. And there was nothing she could do about that.

In an effort to stop those thoughts, Miley rolled over, like she had done uncountable times ever since she'd gone to bed. However, the change in position merely messed up her blankets, which were already far from smooth after all the time Miley had spent rolling around on her bed, not getting any closer to falling asleep than she had been when she had lied down, seemingly a week ago.

This was all wrong. Miley had never been the heaviest of sleepers, but she also had never been one to have regular trouble with insomnias or anything similar. It was an unwritten rule that whenever Miley lied down at night, she went to the country of dreams in less than ten minutes. The only exceptions to that rule took place whenever something was wrong with her. And right now, things were more wrong than they had been since her mother died, more than six years ago.

As a growl of frustration came out of her mouth, Miley pushed the covers away, slid off of her bed, tucked her feet into her slippers, and walked to the window to get some fresh air. She knew that all the fresh air in the world was unlikely to help sleep to come on this occasion, but at least it would cool her down. Spending so much time tossing and turning in her bed had left her hot and sweaty.

As she opened her window, and the cool breeze blew on her face, Miley saw that the night was carrying on as it usually did in her quiet corner of Malibu. The palm trees' leaves swayed in the wind, the stars shone on the dark-blue sky, and everything else she listed as normal was taking place. The only thing out of the ordinary was that sleep refused to come to her. Her body was exhausted, but her brain didn't seem capable of turning itself off, working overtime to process a particularly hard bit of information.

It had been the same way for the previous three nights, ever since she'd returned from shooting Indiana Joannie, and had found out that her two best friends had started a relationship with each other while she was away. Even after three days, Miley still couldn't believe that such a thing had happened. But she had already come to the conclusion that denial wouldn't change the truth. According to both of them, things had started at a beach party, when Lilly had held onto Oliver to avoid dancing with Nose-Whistle Wally. And then, their heads had just fit together, Oliver had inhaled the apple-scent on Lilly's hair, and things just evolved from there.

However, that beach party had not only been what started their relationship. It had also been what started their first argument as a couple. Both were convinced they had danced to a certain song, and neither of them had been willing to surrender. If not for Miley's meddling, their relationship would just be another of those high-school flings, simply because both Lilly and Oliver were stubborn as mules. However, after Miley had opened their eyes with a home-made movie a matter of hours ago, the two of them had made up, and now, everything was alright again.

Or almost everything.

All the way throughout her return, her plan, and her saying goodbye to her friends after they made up, Miley had faced a very serious issue. She couldn't be happy for them, no matter how hard she tried. And all because of a secret she held. A secret far more precious than the fact she was Hannah Montana. A secret that she had never told anyone.

She loved Oliver. Really loved Oliver, and not as a best friend. She wasn't sure when it had started exactly, but it was unquestionable that it had. Oliver was everything she could want in a guy. She could list everything she loved about him, but somehow, putting her feelings into words was the equivalent to limiting them, destroying them. Everything was better safely in her mind. The only word she dared to use to describe Oliver was 'amazing'. And as time passed, he just kept getting better. Of course, the fact he'd started to get buffer and more handsome lately wasn't bad either, but it was just the icing on the cake made of everything that Oliver Oscar Oken was.

However, Oliver had never gotten to know how she felt, in spite of all the things Miley had done for him (or because of him) over the years, beginning with forgetting the National Anthem and the lyrics to her songs just because he was upset with her, going through things like flying down the beach in a chicken suit and playing hockey, and ending on her unquestionable willingness to give up the role of her life just so she wouldn't lose her friendship with him. Somewhere in all of those things there had been a hint for Oliver to pick up. None of them had made him understand, and Miley had never gathered the courage to tell him the truth.

And now, Lilly had come and taken her guy. Her Oliver. It wasn't fair.

Miley took a deep breath in an effort to ease the ache in her chest, but her intake of air only made the stab of pain in her heart become more pronounced. It had been there for almost four days now, and it had remained as strong as it was when it had appeared, in spite of Miley's attempts to soothe it. And worse, this was all her fault. If she had dared to tell everything to Oliver before, perhaps she would have been the one sharing a magical moment with him at the beach party.

But there was nothing she could do now, other than to accept the facts and move on. And she knew that. She only didn't know how she would be able to do it.

The silence in her bedroom was suddenly cut by a low growl from her belly. Apparently, she had spent too much time trying to fall asleep - so long that her stomach was starting to complain from the lack of food. And Miley's heartache didn't prevent her from knowing that if she hadn't been able to fall asleep with a broken heart and an overactive brain, she certainly wouldn't be able to with an empty stomach thrown into the mix. And at least, she still knew what she could do to solve that problem.

After she closed the window, Miley turned around and started her way to the kitchen. The clock at her bedside table caught her eyes as she exited her bedroom. Two o'clock in the morning, it read. That meant Miley had spent more than three hours tossing and turning under her covers, as she tried time after time to be happy for her best friends and forget about her broken heart. All those attempts had been in vain. And for some reason, it seemed like a lot of things in her life from now on would be in vain.

Fortunately, getting something to eat at the kitchen wouldn't be one of those. The food wouldn't make her feel better when it came to her heart problems, but it would fill her stomach, and hopefully, help her to fall asleep.

When she got to the top of the stairs, she could see that the lights were on down there. But she didn't get worried or alarmed. She had a very good idea of who was down there.

Right as she went down the lowest step, she had the confirmation of her guess. Her father was sitting at the kitchen's table. A plate with a slice of pie was in front of him, and he was taking another one to his mouth. But that was something he at times did, come down for pie in the middle of the night. It was a miracle that he managed to keep such a fit body at his age when he consumed so much sugar.

When he heard her, he stopped in the middle of taking the slice of pie to his mouth and looked toward her. A surprised look came upon his face.

"Miley? What are you doing down here at this hour?"

Miley frowned inwardly. She hated when her father called her Miley. Usually, he'd use 'Bud'. Less commonly, he used 'Miles' or 'Baby Girl'. And although she wasn't fond of the last one either, even 'Baby Girl' was preferable to 'Miley' which was basically a giveaway to the fact that he thought, correctly or not, that something was wrong. And while he was right this time, Miley didn't need her dad to reinforce that fact, nor did she want to talk about it.

"I couldn't fall asleep," she said. "And now I'm hungry, because it's been about five hours since I last ate."

Her father nodded.

"Do you want some pie?" he offered, lifting the slice he was holding, which was missing a chunk already.

Miley simply plopped down on a chair. She liked pie, but not enough to be something she wanted to eat at a time like this.

"Do you want some chocolate cake?" her father tried again.

"Yes, Daddy, thank you."

For her, chocolate cake was the same thing pie was for her father. Hopefully, it would be enough to make her feel better about the whole situation. Even if it only lasted a moment, Miley was going to take anything she could get.

"I'll get it," he said. "And in the meantime, I'll fix you some Loco Hot Cocoa."

Miley frowned. Loco Hot Cocoa was the family's special drink. It was divine nectar when it came down to taste, but it had the unpleasant side effect of causing weird dreams. She didn't even want to think of what sort of dreams the drink would cause when she was facing the worst crisis of her life ever since her mother passed away. But at the same time, whenever either she or Jackson had insomnias, Loco Hot Cocoa always managed to put them to sleep. Even if it meant weird dreams later on, sleeping badly was better than not sleeping at all.

While Miley waited for her father to bring the slice of cake and the mug with hot chocolate, her head turned to the front door. Lilly and Oliver had left her house to celebrate their making up only moments before Miley had gone to bed. For an instant, Miley wondered what that had meant exactly. She had a lot of theories for it, each one creepier than the previous. One of them, in particular, was the last thing she wanted to imagine either Lilly or Oliver doing. Imagining them doing it together was enough to make her sick.

A part of her wondered whether she was being unreasonable. After all, they had even asked her if she would like to come and celebrate with them. But Miley was sure that it had been exclusively out of good manners, and that neither of them really wanted her around during their celebration.

Soon, they were bound not to want her around for a lot of things. The sort of intimate things proper of a couple, that Miley could never be a part of. Eventually, they could even not want her around for anything at all.

Miley did her best to avoid that thought. That idea was ten times more horrible than the idea of losing Oliver to Lilly. Those two were the only real friends she had ever since she moved to California – if old friends from Tennessee who she saw twice a year at the most were excluded. She got along well with a lot of her schoolmates, but she didn't see any of them as more than acquaintances.

The sound of a mug and a plate being set down on the table caught her attention.

"Here it is bud," her father said as he set down a fork and a knife by the plate's side. "Your slice of cake, and your mug of hot chocolate."

Miley tried her best not to frown again. Another thing her father didn't usually do was saying 'hot chocolate'. Usually, he'd say 'Loco Hot Cocoa, with little marshmallows so you don't choke-o'. He also didn't have the habit of cutting her slices of cake this big – at most, the slices he cut for her had two-thirds of this one's size. Even the mug of Loco Hot Cocoa was bigger and proportionally fuller than it was normal. Yet more hints at him thinking – maybe even knowing – that something was wrong. Miley already had more than enough of those.

But she only said, "Thanks, Daddy."

And if she hadn't remembered her manners, she wouldn't have even said that.

As her father sat back in front of his slices of pie, Miley grabbed the fork and picked at the slice of cake half-heartedly. All of a sudden, she'd lost her appetite.

But she knew she had to eat. Otherwise, her father would get even more suspicious.

Miley cut what she considered a piece with acceptable size, and put it in her mouth, before chewing slowly. Her father grabbed the slice of pie he'd been busy with before, and took a bite off of it, but she saw the look he was giving her.

Not willing to meet it, she cut a few more pieces of cake, and chewed them with forced placidness, hoping to fool her father. She only hoped this wouldn't be another of those times when his unexpected perceptiveness would strike.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" her father finally asked. It was more than obvious that he had known something was wrong with her, and was only waiting some time to see if she would to have enough initiative to start talking talk about it.

Miley gave a sideways look at her father. Even if her relationship with him was much closer than the one most teenage girls had with their fathers, she wasn't sure if she could talk to him about this.

"It might help you to feel better," he added, before he bit another chunk out of his slice of pie.

If there was something Miley didn't believe at the moment, it was that anything would help her to feel better right now. But she was also desperate enough to try, and she knew her father wouldn't criticize her. Not after how she had proved that she could put her best friends' happiness before her own.

"It's about Lilly and Oliver," Miley finally said. In secret, she hoped with all her heart that her answer would confuse her father enough for him to let go of the matter. "They got back together. My plan to make them see how stupid they were acting worked."

She expected her father's eyes to narrow in confusion, and for him to make some sort of any question of why she was so upset if her plan had worked. Instead, he just nodded in understanding.

"But you didn't want it to be that way, right bud?"

Now Miley was the one confused. Her father's tone wasn't confused at all. Instead, it seemed that he was asking for a confirmation. It was as if he knew. But how could he know?

It wasn't important. Probably she had just underestimated her father's intelligence and perceptiveness again. What she needed to do now was to find a way to avoid answering the question her father had made.

Deciding on the only option that came to her mind, Miley cut another piece of cake and took it to her mouth, chewing it as slowly as the others. Although she had always been educated to know that lying was wrong and that she should answer other people when they talked to her, she didn't feel comfortable talking about the reason behind her pain. She just had this weird idea that if she voiced it, she would make it real, while if she kept it quiet, it would all be some weird dream from which she could wake up – like it had happened with that dream she'd had about Lilly liking Jackson. Right now, she would give just about anything for that dream to have been real. If it had been real, she could still have kept Oliver for herself.

But her father kept looking at her. It was obvious he wouldn't let the matter go until Miley said anything in response to what he'd asked.

"No, I didn't," she finally managed to say. And to avoid him making too much questions, she said something else right away. "What I wanted was for them to realize that they can never be anything else that best friends, and that a relationship between them is doomed to fail."

Her father nodded, and then took another bite off of his slice. Miley couldn't help but to narrow her eyes in confusion, unable to understand why her father had just accepted that. She'd expected him to make a few more questions at least.

"You're not gonna ask me why I wanted that?" Miley said, unable to repress the surprise in her tone.

Her father swallowed the already chewed piece of pie.

"No I won't, bud. Because I already know."

Her mouth went agape and her eyes widened. "You do?"

"I do, Mile," he said. Without giving her any chance to say anything, he added, "I know about your feelings for Oliver."

Miley didn't know what to say. Part of her wanted to ask when exactly he had gotten to know that. Another wanted to ask why he wasn't mad at her. And another wanted to ask for advice about what he thought he should do.

However, she ended up not listening to any of those. Instead, she just asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"No, Mile. I'm not," His tone was so honest that Miley didn't doubt him for a second. "I'm only a little bit disappointed that you didn't trust me enough to talk to me about that. I've told you and Jackson time and time again: both of you can speak to me about anything. I'm your father, that's what I'm here for."

Miley couldn't look her father in the eyes after that. He'd said it a lot of times before, and so far he'd always kept true to his word. Miley had been the one who hadn't, although she had promised that she would do it if she had to. Jackson was more honest than her at those times – he simply said 'Thanks' after their father said something in that vein. But if he ever took the offer, Miley didn't know. In all honestly, she doubted he did. When he had been a kid, Jackson usually went to their mother. She couldn't remember him ever going to their father when he was upset in those times. But since their mother had died, Jackson simply dealt with things on his own whenever he was upset, as far as Miley knew. Perhaps he and their father sometimes talked about those things in secret or something of the like. But if she didn't know what Jackson did when he was upset, she also didn't know what to do to deal with this. Or, to be honest, she didn't know how she'd be able to do it.

"But I swear it, bud, I would never be mad at you for loving Oliver," her father finished, his voice so sympathetic that it made Miley feel even worse. "After all, what reason would I have to feel that way?"

Miley had to recognize her father had a point. As far as she knew, he didn't have any reason to be mad at her because she loved Oliver. But it didn't make any difference. Even considering Oliver had her father's approval, it didn't do her any good. Not with Oliver in Lilly's arms.

"Loving him is pointless now," Miley finally said. She tried her utter best to speak in a normal voice. "Lilly got him first."

"It's not pointless, bud," her father said. "And while we're on the matter, I'm sure that both Oliver and Lilly would be upset if you stopped loving them – as a friend."

As a friend. The three dreaded words. Miley had no doubt that Oliver loved her 'as a friend'. But she loved him as much more than a friend. And in spite of her willingness to keep both him and Lilly in her life, Miley doubted things could work between them, even as friends.

"But you're right about one thing," her father carried on. "Oliver won't ever love you the same way that he loves Lilly."

Her father's words felt like a knife slicing her heart in half, but Miley nodded.

"And in spite of what you've said, you know very well that the relationship between them won't fail, right?" her father carried on. "Sure, they may take some time adjusting, but they'll do it – and when they do, nothing will break them apart."

Miley wanted to refute that. Miley wanted to say that her father's words made no sense. Miley wanted to tell him that only she, not Lilly, could ever hope to be Oliver's real love. But she didn't.

Because, deep down, Miley knew that her father was right, just like she knew that Lilly had truly gotten Oliver first. And she also knew that Lilly hadn't 'gotten him' just because they danced together a few weeks ago. The two of them could have come up with the whole beach party excuse – why they did it, Miley didn't know – but she had no problems guessing the whole, true story, where Lilly and Oliver dancing together at the beach party had simply been the final push. Things between Lilly and Oliver had truly begun when the two of them were at kindergarten, and Lilly had held Oliver's hand. No matter how many times Lilly had repeated that she'd only done so because she wanted to use his crayons, Miley had always suspected there was something more behind her gesture. And she could just figure the rest out from there. Their feelings for each other had grown stronger over the years, but none of them was brave enough to reveal them, and both of them had tried to cover them up by assuming a siblings-like relationship, insulting each other, arguing over insignificant things, and even dating someone else occasionally in order to get distracted from their feelings for each other. But then, after that magical moment they shared, neither Lilly nor Oliver had been able to hold their love for the other any longer.

Because they did love each other, and Miley couldn't question that fact in a million years. Just before they had left, she had seen Lilly and Oliver looking at each other the same way her father and mother had, back when her mother was still alive. She wasn't sure how it had happened, but it had. And now, her only option was to stand aside.

But still, Miley couldn't help to have spent hours cursing herself for not having confessed her own feelings to Oliver before Lilly.

"I'm sorry I said it, bud," her father carried on, still in his sympathetic tone. "But it's the truth."

All of a sudden, her eyes started watering.

"I know," Miley whispered, feeling tears about to pour out of her eyes.

Her father got up and took her in his arms.

"There, there," her father whispered soothingly. "It's alright, bud. Don't cry."

"What else do you want me to do, Daddy?" Miley asked, her voice choked by the sobs. "I just lost the love of my life to my best friend! I let the chance of a lifetime pass by!"

"I don't think you did, bud," her father said, still holding her in his comforting hug. "I know it may feel that way, but believe me, you didn't. I'm sure that, very deep down, you know that."

Again, Miley wanted to argue. And again, she couldn't. Her father was right again. She hadn't let the chance of a lifetime pass by, because she never really had a chance. And she had always been aware of that, although she had never been willing to admit it – even to herself – until now. Lilly had known Oliver for years before Miley had, and the two had a lot of time to accumulate feelings and experiences as they had grown up, something Miley could never hope to have. Lilly and Oliver had been meant for each other since the beginning. Miley simply had been the one with enough bad luck to fall for him as well. And now, she was weeping over that.

All of a sudden, it dawned on her that she was crying, and that her father was holding her. It only made her feel worse. Now, besides being heartbroken, she felt more ashamed of herself than she ever had.

"Sorry, Daddy," she said as she wiped at her tears. "I'm being too childish, crying over this. I'll stop crying, I promise."

Her father pushed her away at arm's length, and looked her in the eyes.

"I would be more worried about you if you didn't cry, bud. Tears are a way to let out the pain. If you don't cry when you need to, the pain will eat you up from inside. And believe me, I can imagine how bad you are hurting."

Miley sobbed harder, and wrapped her arms around her father again. She knew he was being honest, and not telling that just to make her feel better. After all, he'd also lost the love of his life. He'd even lost her twice for that matter. First when her mother had started dating that other guy before her father had asked out for the first time, and a second time when she had died. But the first time, he'd eventually managed to get her back, after she broke up with that other guy. And although the second time he'd lost her had been for good, at least he'd gotten to date her, to marry her, to have children with her, to share a life with her. Miley would never get any of that with Oliver, and nothing in this world could ever change that.

But at least, the tears were a way to relieve the pain, like her father had said. It seemed that the longer she cried, the ache in her heart decreased. And at least now, she could cry without worrying about being judged or berated. So, that was what she did, until her eyes had nothing more to shed. Her father kept his comforting hug all the way through it, not making any comment. And for that, Miley would always be grateful.

When she was finally done with soaking her father's t-shirt, the ache in her chest was much weaker than before – but it was still there. It would always be. And Miley doubted anything would ever change that.

But it least it was manageable now, and her brain had gone quiet. Now she should be able to fall asleep, after filling her stomach.

Miley pulled away from her father with painful slowness, wiped off the tear streaks on her face, and sat back down, staring at the slice of cake as if it had was her way out of this whole mess.

"If you ever want to talk about it again, bud, you can always come to me," her father said after he went back to the other side of the table. It was obvious he never thought it was too much to emphasize that point.

Miley lifted her eyes from the slice of cake and nodded, not feeling up to talking at the moment. She hoped her father wouldn't force her to say it.

Fortunately, he got the message, and after he gave her a brief nod, he returned to his pie, ravaging his already half-eaten slice in seconds, before he moved on to the second one.

Meanwhile, Miley grabbed the mug of Loco Hot Cocoa, and took a careful sip. It was just at the temperature she liked. Wanting to drink most of it before it got too cold, Miley gulped a quarter of the mug's content all at once, set the drink down, and picked up the fork and the knife to eat what was left of her slice of cake. For some reason, her heartache had made her stomach even emptier. For the first time since she'd come down, Miley was happy that her father had cut off a bigger slice of cake than he usually did. It had been the right thing for him to do for sure, just like getting Lilly and Oliver back together had been the right thing for her to do, in spite of all the pain it had caused her. But what was right wasn't always what you would prefer to do. That much she had already learned, in the most painful way ever.

But it wasn't as if she could have done anything else. Like she had said, she had left the chance of a lifetime pass by, if she ever had it in the first place. Like she had said, she'd never get to be with Oliver now. Like she had said, the only thing she could do was move on.

The only problem was that thinking about having to do it was already looking impossible. Miley didn't even want to think just how hard it would be to actually do it, every single day, for years to come.

So, this was the prologue for my fanfic. In case someone is wondering, for this fanfic I'm trying to follow the show's rule, where every episode seems to be named after one song, whether they use a song's literal name or simply make an adaptation of it. I'm not sure if I'll manage it, but both the fanfic's title and the prologue's are named after or inspired by one song's title. If you want to find out which... well, I'll leave it up to you.

Now, I would really value reviews for this. Particularly when it comes to the more emotional stuff. I'm a guy, and as such, emotional scenes aren't exactly my strong point (or so one of my friends has told me).

Also, if you've read the fourth chapter of my other fanfic, please tell me which one of these do you want to see the most. Like I said there, the final decision will still be mine, but I really want to know your opinions, just like I want to know what you think about this chapter.

Oh, and in case it wasn't clear enough, or I get some reader who's new to the whole Hannah Montana universe, the prologue is meant to take place immediately after 'What I Don't Like About You' ends.

I eagerly await your reviews.

My best wishes for all of you.