Sooo, new story. Really excited about this one! (As always). It's based on a dream I had, briefly. It's like 30% my dream, 10% Hannah Montana movie, 20% this story I read on Wattpad(It's really different so I haven't stolen anything, there's just a few elements of that story that I liked - I swear!) The other 40% you will guess after reading this chapter.

Also, some characteristics and opinions might be similar to some of my other stories so you might find them familiar.

Isla = Amanda Bynes

Tahlia = JoJo(the singer)

Coley = Abigail Breslin

Jared = Jared Followill

Also, Miley's hair is not as it is now. The pic attached to this story is how I envisioned her. Kinda.

PS - talking is normal font, text is italics, email is bold and tweeting is bold italics. Any others, I will add later.

You ever get those moments where you'd rather just be anywhere else than where you are at that exact minute in time? I have, in fact throughout this whole year I've had many of them.

Growing up in a big family and being the least egotistical can do that to a person. So, I'm a nerd. Well I'm not but everyone thinks I am. Because I enjoy school and don't bleach my hair until it's falling out onto my pillow. Because I don't hide my face under twenty layers of make up and because I have opinions that other people don't understand, whether they choose not to or are simply too dumb to see past themselves is the part I still haven't figured out yet.

So... my sister, she's engaged. She got engaged on Christmas Day last year and everyone was so happy for her. Including myself, she's my sister and I don't want anything bad to happen to her but she's also the favorite child. Not that I have a problem with that, I like being in the background most of the time, when I get perfect grades or do something that I've worked so hard for, I should get a little attention.

My achievements should be celebrated too, right?

Well, they're not. I do something amazing and I don't even get a "well done Miley, I know you worked so hard, we're proud of you". I get a "that's nice" and then ignored for the rest of the day. My sister Isla, is the golden child. She's the oldest girl, I'm the middle child.

My brother Holden just stays out of it, he's the oldest child, six years older than me and also a golden child. Star quarterback all through high school and he got a scholarship to college. Mommy and Daddy were so very proud.

Then came Princess Isla, four years older than me physically, ten years younger mentally, she legitimately thought she was a princess until she was thirteen, she's a shallow, conceited barbie wannabe. You know, one of those girls that is an unofficial member of a debutant society and all that crap. Basically Paris Hilton but without the dog, or the money if I'm honest.

Tahlia was next, she's two years older than me and we actually get along pretty well, she let's Isla do her thing and stands in the background. I think we all do that to some extent. Tahlia's the smart one, even smarter than me. I think that's why my parents don't acknowledge me, they've seen it all before and it's old news now if I come in with a sheet full of A* grades, because Tahlia's done it all before. Tahlia's pretty quiet though, bookworm at heart.

Then I came along, boring old me. Not some star sports player, not some Malibu Barbie wannabe, not the bookworm, just plain old Miley. I'm not completely boring obviously. To my family I am, to me I'm freaking hilarious and opinionated and a well-rounded young lady. It also doesn't help that I'm a genius. Not really, I just pay attention at school. I get good grades, I'm the smart kid, I'm the do-gooder and whatnot. And sometimes, if I had the guts to piss my dad off, I was the rebellious one. You know, staying out after curfew, drinking a little, befriending musicians and biker dudes. It was for attention and then those guys were actually pretty cool and now they're like my best friends.

Coley, my baby sister or as I like to call her - Satan! The youngest, the baby of the family.

Mommy's little angel. Gag me with a spoon!

She is literally Hitler reincarnated. An evil little madam.

I know I shouldn't dislike my sisters, I try not to but it does bug me that Isla and Coley get ALL the attention, Tahlia and I are like two wallflowers in the background. Like thirty seconds of attention is all I ask every once in a while, I would be better off not even being here because I go unnoticed anyway.

So basically, the reason why I'd rather be lying on a beach in Hawaii, letting all my troubles wash away is because Isla, the twenty two year old Kardashian wannabe, has decided that she will stop whoring herself around and get engaged. Now that's fine, I have nothing against Jared, he's a nice guy or at least he used to be, you know... when I was sleeping with him. But it's the point that this whole engagement means more attention being focused on Isla and she will make sure it is.

So by now, on April 7th 2012, the final countdown to the wedding has started. Just three weeks to go and already this wedding has ruined my life. I can't sit down to do my homework or talk to my friends on Facebook or Twitter because her eight bridesmaids are always at my house, talking about the wedding or how beautiful Isla will look. Her friends are all as shallow as she is.

Like no depth whatsoever. What a horrible existance to have, constantly thinking of yourself. A selfish, vain person. I could never be like that. I hate talking about myself. I have no idea how celebrities do it. Like, you can cry on demand and you can hold a note now fuck off. Celebrities are so full of self-praise, they just love to celebrate themselves.

I know I sound really jealous, I'm not. Except for the obvious little glitches of attention that I want. But I'm not so jealous that I want to sabotage anything or ruin my sister's life. I'm just feeling a little underappreciated and frustrated.

Hawaii sounds pretty good right now, at least I'd be out of Atlanta. For a while at least. Even California. I could go there. I'd have nowhere to stay and no money to live on but I'd sleep on a beach and eat snails or something. If the french can do it then so... well actually I couldn't do THAT. I almost tried before and backed out at the very last second. It was not a situation I wish to repeat.

I wish, I just wish I was outta this place. But I can't be of course, because Isla needs me as her eleventh bridesmaid. Yawn. I'm so over this wedding, the sooner she gets married, the sooner she moves out permanently and the sooner I get peace and quiet. Speaking of peace and quiet, why is there no arguing happening right now?

There's always arguing when I'm half sleeping in the morning. Normally because Isla wants the bathroom and Coley is normally in there reading a magazine just to piss everyone off. It's hilarious as long as it isn't happening to me.

"Hey you, get up! You slept in!", I hear the woman's voice as I turn my head the other direction on my pillow. Okay they normally scream at each other not come in and wake me out of a 90% sleep to shout at me. It's far too early to be awake and that damn sun is shining through the window and I'm being blinded. I am not a morning person. How long have I been sleeping? Like an hour?

Since when has my window been on my left?

Wait, who is this woman in my room? That's not my mom. My mom goes to work overnight, what the hell is going on?

"Nick, get out of bed, you have class in fifteen minutes and then rehearsals until noon. You have to get up!", the woman comes over and pulls the sheets from me.

"Hey, what the hell is going on? Who are you?", I ask finally opening my eyes and looking at the woman. Early thirties, copper colored hair and a full face of make up. Who the hell is she? Whose room is this? Where the hell am I?

"Are you drunk again? What did your mother tell you about your behavior? Did the paparazzi see you?", she scolds me and I'm literally speechless, what the fuck is going on? My mother didn't tell me anything about my behavior. Has she been let out of a mental institution? Is she drunk?

She keeps talking as I try and think what the hell is going on.

"Listen lady, I don't know what the hell is going on but I need five minutes to myself. Where the hell am I?", I shout at her and she looks taken aback.

"In your bedroom, are you sick?",

"I think I might be. This isn't my bedroom. What's going on?",

"I have no idea what you're talking about but if this is another plan for you to get out of class then you can think again!",

"Listen Ma'am, I am not planning anything, I have no idea what's going on and I would appreciate it if you left the room and stopped whining like a bitch in my ear", I finally shout at her and she looks taken aback before walking back out of the room. I look around me, those aren't my hands. Where's my hair? Where are my boobs? I worked so hard to get them to grow and now they're gone.

Okay what the fuck is going on?

I climb out of the bed, the bed I don't know in the bedroom that I don't know and stumble into the en suite.

OH HOLY GOOD MOTHER OF FUCKING JESUS HOLY CHRIST IN HEAVEN ABOVE WHAT THE FUCK?!

Nick Jonas.

Staring back at me in the mirror is Nick Fucking Jonas. Me? Nick Jonas? Please tell me I'm dreaming. This is a terrible, terrible nightmare.

Why has my mind taken over the body of Nick 'Sex God' Jonas? Nick Jonas is like my... well you know that celebrity crush that you're completely in love with? That you completely fangirl over? Yeah, that's what Nick Jonas is to me. Teen heart throb.

Am I Nick Jonas? I have to be drunk right now.