Disclaimer: Based on real events, but some things are made up to help the story. Slight AU. Goes in a different direction.
Chapter 1 - January 29th, 2017
"I just thought I'd try to call you, baby, for you got too far outta town. And I hope that you get this message that I'm leaving for you 'cause I hate that you left without hearing the words that I needed you to." - Excerpt from I Hope You Find It, Miley Cyrus
They hadn't keep contact, not for years. So Nick had no idea what was bringing him to do this.
Nick stared at his phone, half-hoping that his manager would call him up and tell him he had to do a show or maybe another tour. Nick Jonas was the ripe age of 24 and was very successful with his music. He wasn't dating anyone now, not since Lily Collins or Olivia Culpo in a while. Maybe there were some others, but nothing too important to Nick.
Not as important as her.
He was back in his old house, lounging in a leather (Why'd he pick leather? The one he was sitting on wasn't all that comfortable.) chair. He paused. It had been two days since he had last tried to do this. Two days, thirteen hours, and forty five minutes to be exact—but he had chickened out before he tapped the 'dial' button. Nick Jonas, celebrity, actor, singer—and all-time coward.
He had typed in the numbers to the phone number very slowly, to get them right, though he had that number memorized. His index finger hovered shakily over the 'dial' button, but Nick was still hesitating. Frustrated, Nick resisted the urge to throw his phone at the wall and instead settled it down on the smooth wood Hayheedle table.
He totally didn't pick that kind of table because the woody brown reminded him of her.
Who was her, you may ask? Well, she was Miley Ray Cyrus, previously penned as Destiny Hope Cyrus, courtesy to her father, Billy Ray Cyrus, who some liked to call a "one-hit-wonder." Miley certainly got the musical genes, yes she did. She was a successful musical artist whose skill could rival arguably everyone in the music industry.
Nick had been trying—don't look at him like that, he was—to bring himself to call Miley, but he was too nervous. He had already broken into a nervous sweat and had no idea why he wanted to call her anyway—he didn't know what he wanted to say. But somehow, he just wanted to hear her voice. He could, of course, just go to YouTube and listen to her (which he did do, more times than not), but he wanted to hear her.
Not that him talking to her (or probably begging for her not to hang up on him, actually) would change anything. But Miley had certainly matured since he had last seen her. Would she keep a grudge against him? Maybe? They were each other's first loves. Maybe there was a rule Miley could slide by and hold a grudge. Of course, the thought of her sent sparks flying through Nick's heart, quickening his heart race.
Of course, there was no way Miley would take him back (even if he did mature). They had had so many horrible fights in the past.
Oh, and Miley was also engaged to a certain Australian hunk by the name of Liam Hemsworth.
Nick had a healthy amount of respect for anyone who worked hard (and yeah, okay, Liam probably worked hard), but there were certain lines. Having respect for someone did not mean that Nick couldn't hate that someone. It was unfair, Nick knew, but Liam had Miley. Nick would've been happier if he was by Miley's side instead of the Aussie, but things had... happened.
Like life.
Nick was planning on... singing a special song at a little party he had been invited to. The party would include all sorts of A-List people, and (this was probably the only reason Nick accepted) the card had also read that a few certain stars would be performing there including Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Miley Cyrus, Demi Lovato, DNCE, etc. But only one name popped out to Nick: Miley Cyrus.
Okay, okay, he did notice the other names—after all, Demi was a good friend, and Nick's brother Joe Jonas was in DNCE. And Taylor was... well, everyone knew about her. And yeah, Selena, too—though Nick had some rough history with her. But yeah. Nick had focused his entire world on Miley's name, and the sky had turned dark before he realized he'd been staring for a few hours.
Yeah... Pathetic, he knew. But cut him some slack! He was just a lovesick guy.
Nick was singing at the party, too. He knew that his song choice (or song choices, in his case) would surprise a bunch. He hoped Miley wouldn't end up being sick on the day. And, perhaps for the first time in Nick's life, he hoped Miley would bring Liam. It would be nice to see Liam's face when he sang the song. Well, Nick had been debating between a few songs before settling on two songs.
The songs, he knew, would convey his message. How could they do anything but?
The party was in a few weeks—wait... Nick picked up his phone, and his eyes widened. Was it already the 29th of January? Crap. How had he not realized? The party was tomorrow. Nick began to panic, knowing he was close to hyperventilating. A swarm of thoughts raced through his head: Did he rehearse the songs properly? What was he going to wear? And god, how was he not going to make a fool out of himself?
Nick had grown his hair (which was in a mess of unruly dark curls) especially for this occasion, but he was rethinking it now...
Nick jumped as his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and a smile tugged at his lips. "Hey, Joe."
"God, I've been trying you for hours, bro," came Joe's faintly exasperated (and sarcastic) voice. "What the hell got you like that?"
Uh. Nick stared at his phone. "My phone was on silent."
Joe groaned. "Did you realize that just because you're a celebrity, doesn't mean you get to ignore your favorite brother's calls?"
Nick quirked a brow. "Who said you were my favorite? If anything, it would be Frankie—"
"Shhh," Joe interrupted. "You don't need to tell me I'm awesome, I already know." Nick groaned but smiled. Well that was Joe for you. Joe basically thought he was a 'godly' person who deserved to be worshipped—but Joe wasn't arrogant. Much. Joe was more modest than most would be but would have all sorts of quirky and sarcastic comebacks that were both aggravating and comical.
"What're you performing at the party?"
There was a slight pause. "Huh. I was thinking about 'Toothbrush' or 'Cake By the Ocean.' Think we'll do 'Cake By the Ocean.'" Nick smiled. He rather liked that song. It was catchy, quirky, and completely irrelevant. He had actually listened to it earlier, right before he began listening to 'Today's the Day' by Pink. "So, I bet I know why you're going."
"How do you know I'm going?" Nick demanded.
"Oh please, you're totally going."
"That isn't a reason—"
"Lemme guess: it's because your longtime crush is going to be there, right?" Apparently, Joe took Nick's silence as a 'yes,' which was true but completely irrelevant. "I mean, Selena's pretty hot and all, and her music's nice, but—" Nick choked on his spit, and Joe guffawed. "I'm joking. I know you're in love with Miley, durrr. Everyone knows that—everyone but the she-devil herself."
Nick shrugged. "It'd be nice to see her again."
"Little more than just 'nice,' I think." Joe scoffed. "But you heard she's still with her Aussie hunk, right?"
Ugh. There went Nick's good mood. "Don't remind me," Nick groaned. "And who said I wanted Miley back? I just want to catch up."
"I bet you'll sing one of her songs," Joe said seriously.
Nick scoffed. "You're wrong." Well, kind of.
"Fine, man," Joe said, his voice slightly distorted through the phone. "Well, I'll catch you later. Time for me to go do some important stuff. You know, the usual." Joe hung up, and Nick laughed a little. He knew by important stuff, Joe had probably meant something like 'being lazy and fooling around' or something equally mindless.
Well, that was Joe for you.
Nick sighed and put his phone down, no longer distracted by Joe. He headed through the long halls and arrived at his room. His room was fairly simple—though blatantly bigger in size than normal average rooms. The walls (which he would randomly get repainted to the color of his current mood) were gray right now, a pretty slate gray that looked almost gray-blue in the light. His king-sized bed was square in the middle, and everything else was piled up on shelves or desks.
He opened his closet and pulled out a box—a simple brown cardboard box. He placed it on his bed and opened it. He pulled out a few objects, a few consisting of teddy bears, t-shirts, or handwritten notes. They all had one thing in common: Miley. This was all about him and Miley—them. He remembered one of the teddy bears especially—she'd left it at his house when her dad had rushed her out the door to meet some musical producer.
He remembered that was the day Miley had kissed his cheek for the first time. He remembered feeling her kiss for hours afterward. He—they—had been so in love back then. Then, there were some others things: all the CD's to Miley's old albums (he had all her new ones in a different stash) which were organized by favorites, several bracelets and necklaces Miley had left at his house, pictures of them.
The simplistic of items could bring fond, bittersweet memories swirling in Nick's chest. Stop it, Nick, you're 24 years old now, not some 13 year old in love. Pull yourself together, he chastised himself. He had always pulled out the box whenever he was missing her or saw a picture of her with Liam, happy. It hurt that she was so, so happy with someone else.
He fingered one of her old shirts before picking up one of her old teddy bears. He hugged it and could still smell her. Calm washed down his spine once again just by the feel of the bear.
Yes, Nick knew he had a problem.
He put the bear tenderly back into the box and gazed fondly inside the box at the contents acquired over their dating period. The memories of her were so sweet, and Nick would've loved another chance—
And what the hell was he thinking? Was he out of his mind? Miley was with Liam—though their ship name was just so god-awful. Miam. Yep, there were better ship names.
Nick put the box carefully back into his closet, tucking it tenderly in a corner. Then, he pulled out the outfit he had chosen for the party: the purple shirt that Miley hated matched with black, washed-out jeans and some Converse. The outfit could speak legions—down from the shirt and the old shoes that had 'Smiley' written on the side. He was sure his outfit would do more than just surprise some others.
A bittersweet smile twisted on Nick's lips as his fingers rubbed against the purple cloth of his old shirt. Yes, the party would definitely be full of surprises.
QotD: What does 'QotD' stand for?'
#If you read my other non-Niley stories, it would be obvious.
A/N: Hey, you probably don't know who I am, and I probably shouldn't be starting this story, but inspiration struck overnight. My name is VAdarkwind, but you can call me 'Darky' or 'Darkwind.' I'm actually working on a different Niley story (Hold My Hand) though it's not on here (yet!), but I thought I'd give something like this a try.
Some trivia: I found out of Niley because of Hannah Montana. Disney showed all the HM episodes on the 12th month of 2016, and my sister and I recorded all of them and watched them all. I never really was a fan of HM until recently though I did watch the movie years ago. I actually never watched HM until recently. And obviously, I started listening to a bunch of old HM songs when I stumbled upon 'Before the Storm.' Then, it all started.
The events in the story might not be accurate (I didn't do much research when I started this fanfiction), but I thought I would give this a try. I'm planning on each chapter being a day, so I can make sure what days are which. Each chapter will range around 2000 words (maybe including the A/N; it really depends on what kind of chapter it is), and I'm a fan of cliffhangers, so please don't hate me too much.
I don't know how many people are still Niley shippers...
Review your answer to the QotD! Tell me your thoughts? I appreciate it though you don't need to. But who doesn't love reviews? ;)
- Darky