Disclamier: Nothing, I swear. Oh, and the last names are Stewart, Lucas, etc. As more characters are introduced, I'll let cha know their last names. So yeah, it's sorta allowed ;)
Chapter 1.
Dear diary, I did it again. It's nothing I'm proud of, nothing I enjoy, but for me it's envitable. Today, if I'm honest, is a good day. I smiled. He made me smile and laugh and feel special, like I was the only one who mattered. He looks at me like I'm perfect, when I know I'm not even close. But, when I'm with him nothing else matters. Yet, when I come home, I'm quickly removed from that high and life suddenly gets more difficult. I start to panic in case I loose him, because I know that my life would be over if I did. He is my escape. I need him. I love him. I pray that one day he'll see what I'm doing to myself and help me. I want him to help, but I can't tell him .. I can't tell anybody.
Nervously she pulled on the bottom of her top. Her eyes moved quickly from every person. Paranoia was beginning to kick in. They were staring at her, judging her. She began to tense up. Her heart rate picked up and her hands began to shake. She had to get out of here. She had to escape. But she couldn't. She had to stay put, she was doing a press conference. She couldn't run out, she couldn't do that and disappoint her fans. So she gritted her teeth, pushed back her tears, put his image into her mind and tried her very best to relax. Her fans, she couldn't disappoint her fans. Questions, she needed questions. It kept her mind of everything. Silence made it worse, being busy made it easier.
She fell backwards on her bed, completely exhausted. Her eyes slid shut and she felt her self slowly drifting into a peaceful sleep until a knock on her bedroom door jerked her out of this trance.
"Come in," she yelled, her eyes remaining closed.
The door opened then closed and the young boy made his way over to the tired girl in a heap on the bed. He took a seat beside her, playing with her perfect long, brown curls that fanned out around her head. His finger ran down the side of her flushed cheeks and a smile tweeked at the corners of her delicate lips. She opened her eyes. Those bright blue, sparkling orbs stared up at the young boy.
"Hi," she whispered in that deep, southern accent he loved.
"Hi." His fingers gently caressed her cheek. She sat up, facing him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. He held her back as she allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. "How are you?" He asked.
"I'm ok. Pretty tired." Her response was quiet and barely audible, but he heard every word. He comfortingly rubbed her back. "How was your day?"
"Pretty boring, just did some writing, that's about it."
She pulled herself away from him and jumped under the covers. Completely exhausted, her eyes slid shut. A small kiss was placed on her forehead and she felt the covers lift up and the young boy climbed in beside her. She snuggled closer to his torso, grabbing his hand and entwining her fingers between his. She opened her eyes and gazed into his chocolate brown orbs, smiling up at him.
"How did the press conference go?" He asked her gently. She propped herself up on his chest.
"Uh, ok, I guess. Just like every other one."
When she first came into this world of fame, these conferences were fun. She used to enjoy them, answering questions, getting attention. It was new, exciting, enthralling and now? It was a chore. It didn't seem fun, anymore. The same questions were always asked, with the same answers to follow.
"Well, you have the joy of me for the entire evening. Maybe it'll cheer you up a little more?" His hand slid down her back slowly, until she grabbed it.
"Nick. No," she laughed, trying to ease the atmosphere.
"That's more like it. We need more smiles and laughs."
She flashed him one of her famous smiles and let her head fall onto his chest. She always felt safe in his presence. He was the only one who made her feel normal. The only one who didn't judge her. The only one who loved her, no matter how she looked. She never felt the need to dress to impress him and she never felt the need to change for him. He was the reason why making herself thinner was hard for her, because she knew that he would tell her that it didn't matter how she looked. She needed him and it scared her.
"You said you did some writing? Can I hear something you wrote?" She mumbled into the front of his plaid shirt.
"Nope. It's secret," he whispered, tickling her sides.
"Please," she squealed as she tried to break free from his embrace.
"Hmm .. " He pondered, tapping his chin with his index finger. "Well .. "
She pouted her rosy lips and gave him her best puppy dog eyes.
"Nope, that isn't going to work. Why don't we leave it until tomorrow night? So I can fix it and perfect it. Is that a deal?"
She groaned and removed herself from his arms, lying down beside him. "I guess."
They lay there, silently. Minutes passed and neither said anything, neither moved. They just lay there with each other and their thoughts. It was simple. It was comfortable. For both of them, it was perfect. They didn't have the normal kind of celebrity relationship, where they went out every night to the A list restaurants and clubs. They kept it low key, a secret. It was their secret and it made it all more romantic. There were rumours, of course. There were photos of them together, but they were best friends, of course they'd go for lunch every now and then. But neither one of them admitted it in interviews. They kept this part of their life private, a mystery. So, of course there were rumours 'Niley' was dating, but there was rumours that they were dating other people.
Everything was so perfect, until her thoughts drifted off to the comments she had read earlier on the sites. Miley coughed, her hand covered her mouth quickly. It was coming. Not now, please not now, she thought. Tears rimmed her eyes and she sat upright. Another cough was slowly rising and she knew there was no way to prevent this from coming. Please, not with him here. She jumped off the bed, bolting to the bathroom where she slammed the door, quickly locking it. The tap ran fast, as she eventually gave in. Knocks were pounding at the door and she could hear her name being called in a frantic voice. Tears fell hard from her blue eyes. They streamed down her pale cheeks. She wasn't proud of this. Who would be? She let go of the toilet and fell back. Her head hitting the cold, hard tiles harshly and a small scream escaped from her lips. The young boys knocks quickened and his voice was louder. The door handle moved like crazy as he tried to come rescue her.
"Nick?" She called, her voice shaky and hoarse.
"Miley, let me in," he begged.
"Can you just go? I don't feel too good and I might be in here for a while." She hated lying to him, but she had to. There was no other way around this situation.
"Can you just come out? Or let me in, please? I need to make sure you're alright."
The sound of the lock echoed on both sides of the door, and slowly the curly haired boy opened the door to reveal a small, terrified girl curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor. He knelt down beside her, gently picking her up and cradling her. Her soothed her and she cling onto his shirt, burying her head into his chest. She was so ashamed. She was letting him down, letting her family down, letting her fans down.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his shirt. Her eyes slid shut and she focused on the sound of his heart beating. It was calling her name. Miley, Miley, Miley.
"It's not your fault," he told her. "You're not feeling well, who can control that?"
But she knew she could control it. She didn't have to believe what those haters wrote, infact she didnt even have to read any of those sites. But she did. She believed it all. She felt guilty. She needed to do it again, to remove the guilt she felt about lying to him. He didn't deserve her crap. Yet, he was her everything and she treated him like he was nothing, at times. He stuck by her through thick and thin and she knew it was only a matter of time before he was sick of all her crap and left.
"Do you still want me to leave?" He whispered into her hair.
She shook her head roughly, knowing that if he left she'd do something stupid to remove the pain and guilt she felt. He had to stay. He was her protector. He picked her up, carrying her in bridal style to her bed, where he gently lay her down and tucked her in. He walked round the bed, jumping in beside her and holding her close to him. He watched her and she snuggled into him, holding on tightly. He placed a small, chaste kiss on her forehead and smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek and a small smile appeared on her scared face. If he was honest, he was worried. Something was up, but she was being so discreet and quiet about it. She told him nothing, not wanting to make her problem his problem. But it was too late, it was already his problem. He wanted to help her, but it was hard. He didn't know where to start. She was on his mind before he slept and she was his thought when he first woke up. During the day, she was all he thought about and now, he was constantly panicking about her. She had changed. The more fame she gained, the less confident she became and the more her character disappeared. When he first met her, she was continuely smiling and laughing. She was the happiest teenage girl ever, but why shouldn't she be? She was eventually living her dream, which she had worked so hard to achieve. She always wore bright coloured clothes, to match her happy mood. But now, she wore dark colours. The clothes she wore were always baggy. She wore clothes she was comfy in. She never pushed things to a limit anymore. She stayed in her comfort zone. She done less interviews, less photoshoots and less work. She focused on writing music, but never releasing it. It was like she had given up on her dream and that was definately not Miley.
A small snore escaped from her lips, and gently Nick released her. After placing a kiss upon her cheek, he left her alone. He exited her house and wrapped his arms around his torso as the cold LA air hit him. Sometimes he forgot how cold it got at night. He walked in a quick pace to the end of the street where his house was located. He loved living so close to her. At the beginning of the relationship the distance between them was hard. Him living in New Jersey and her in LA, until his parents decided to suprise the family by moving to LA and to be more specific, at the bottom of her street. It was perfect.
Nick walked into the warm house and made his way right upstairs and into his bedroom. He threw himself on the bed. He couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't stop worrying about her. He knew that tomorrow he was going to have to confront her and this wasn't going to be easy, that girl could be horribly stubborn at times. Except, he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He was going to save her.
Dear diary, it's getting worse. I don't even have to force myself to do it. I just have to think of something and it comes, without warning. I'm scared in case I'm now not under control. I have to be able to control this, or it'll get worse. I'm scared in case he knows, as well. I don't want him to worry, I don't want him to panic, I don't want him to tell, but I need his help. I need him to know I love him. And I need him to know that I don't want him to get involved, but I need him to save me. This isn't his mess, and therefore I am not involving him in it. I hate lying to him, but I can't help it. I have to. I have to protect myself. And I hope he understands that.
The young girl walked out of Starbucks with that same old smile on her face. Too bad they don't realise it's fake, she thought. The cameras flashed and her name was being yelled from every direction. It's part of the territory, she kept tellling herself. She wished that she could step outside her house without being photographed and followed. When she first came into the buisness she loved it. She loved all the attention, but as she got older, the more she wanted to be alone and the harder it was for that to happen. It was difficult and no one understood how hard it was for her to stay grounded and keep her life as normal as possible. She had tried to hard, but sometimes she slipped and each time she did, it got harder and harder to pick herself back up.
She jumped in her car and drove off, finally being able to relax. Tears began to gather in the corner of her eyes. She fixed her eyes on the road in front. She continued to drive, knowing her destination. Too many tears had been produced and slowly the began to fall. Her life was such a mess. She had everything, she was so damn lucky, yet she felt like the most un-luckiest girl ever. She would give everything for freedom. She would give everything to be a normal teenager girl. She just wanted her life to be like it was before. She didn't want this pain.
She continued to drive. This was the only place she could escape to. She couldn't confinde in her music. She was scared incase someone realised what she was doing to herself. She couldn't tell anyone. She didn't have any other way, except to be with him and forget everything. She wished that he knew how much she needed him. There was no possible way for her to tell him that her life depended on him, she just had to pray to hell he knew and wouldn't let her down. She pulled into the street and drove straight past her house and turned into his. He stood waiting for her and she smiled. They had that kind of relationship, like a sixth sense almost. He always knew when she was coming and when something was wrong, just like she knew him like the back of her hand. Jumping out of the car, she ran up to the front door and right into his arms.
"Hi," she said, standing back and smiling at him.
"Hi." He stood back and she walked into the house. She knew instantly where to go: his room. She passed the familiar baby photos, which she loved to admire every now and then, right up the stairs and into his bedroom. Kicking her shoes off, she leapt onto his bed.
"You're in a good mood," he noticed, sitting opposite her on the bed.
"That's because I'm with you. You put me in a good mood." She smiled, knowing it was the truth. He was the only person who could make her smile when she felt like crying. He was her best friend, he had been given that ability.
"So, how are you feeling today?" Nick asked, remembering the night before. Miley soon quickly lost that smile.
"Oh, I'm feeling much better, thanks." She murmured, lowering her head.
"Are you sure?" He wasn't too convinced.
"Yeah, I was just tired and felt pretty lousy."
She knew she had to distract him. She knew that he was suspecting something, and this was just the beginning. So she moved towards him and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling herself closer to him. She leaned in and pushed her lips firmly against his. Her hands ran up his back, giving him chills, and rested beneath his curls. Gently she began tugging on them. His hands rested just below her hip bones, and as the kiss developed his grip got tighter. His hand slipped under her shirt and up her bare back. Then he stopped and pulled away. Miley knew why. He had felt it. She knew he was going to ask her about it, his suspisions were rising. She had to distract him and so leaned in, but it didn't work this time. Instead Nick grabbed the bottom of her shirt, trying to pull it over her head. Miley jumped off the bed.
"No," she whispered, slipping her feet into her flip flops. "I-I have to go."
She ran out his room and out of the house, tears falling hard and fast. Everything was going wrong. He now knew something was up. He wasn't stupid, he would be able to put everything together. It wouldn't be long till he found out what she was doing. She couldn't go home, he would come after her. So she drove. She just drove, hoping she would know where to go soon. For now she was going to drive and forget it all.
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