Hello everyone this is my new story with inspiration taken from Katy Perry's song 'Thinking of You' which I love a little bit. I hope you all enjoy it. It's going to be a few chapters long, not too hardcore... pay attention to the dates though if you feel yourselves getting a little confused.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the rights to either Katy Perry or Hannah Montana.

Thinking Of You – Part 1

Comparisons are easily done

Once you've had a taste of perfection

Like an apple hanging from a tree

I picked the ripest one, I still got the seed

You said move on, where do I go?

I guess second best is all I will know

-

Saturday 5th September 2009

The apple orchard was in its hey-day during that cooling, late summer's afternoon in Tennessee. Boughs which overhung the pathways were heavy with ripe fruit, ready for the surge of harvesters who would shortly be arriving for the picking. Each strip of land that marked the aisles between the trees had been recently mown by the old tractor and thus threw up the scent of cut grass into the air. Everything was at peace and only the evening song of the birds above and around, with distant noises from neighbouring properties, stood to break any silence that would drape itself over this place. Small insects traced the air about the trees, starting in the long grasses and working their way up to hover only a few feet or so above the ground. They would dwindle lethargically in the still-warm atmosphere, glowing slightly in the yellow rays of the setting sun.

Quiet footfall was the only disturbance to the orchard as sandals pressed down on the grass and crunched the dirt within the tractor trails. A single girl was descending the peaceful slope, relishing her time spent alone among the groves of trees on her grandmother's land. Eventually the girl came to a halt at the place where she considered she had the best view, upon the brow of the hill which overlooked the surrounding countryside. The sun was setting to her left and she could make out its gradual descent from the corner of her eye. She was stood next to one of the recently placed apple bins, a great wooden tub which would soon hold the profits of the trees before they were sent up to the store-rooms. She did not pay this small landmark much attention however, as there were greater things to consider than the governing of Mamaw's farm. The girl sighed and raised her hands to rest them atop her head so that she could stretch and take in the sights and the smell of the pure rural area. She twisted her fingers into her long hair and pushed it back, out of her face, before rubbing her palms against her cheeks and eyes, looking to disintegrate the pressure and stress which had build up beneath them.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and inhaled deeply, bracing herself against the withering storm that threatened to subsume her. The same storm which no one else could see, for she had built it up for herself only a short while ago. She opened her eyes once more and blinked, for the view had not altered and neither had her feelings for her current situation. The girl cast her eyes about her but the trees remained the same, as did the sunset, it had not fallen any further. She shrugged. She raised her shoulders up and then down in the same manner which she would assume every time her mind reached this conclusion; that nothing had changed, and nothing was going to change unless she did something about it.

Turning aside from these matters and the splendid fields which rose and fell before her eyes across the horizon, the girl took interest in a neighbouring tree that promised the brightest apples. She reached up, standing on tiptoes so that she might pluck the one which nearest resembled perfection. The branch quivered beneath her grasping fingers, but finally yielded the fruit and creaked upwards into position once more. The girl was smiling now as she rubbed the apple against her sleeve before sinking her teeth into its skin. She relished in the sweetness of the juice which sprang forward to meet her lips, and in the crunchy texture of its flesh. She took her position perched on one of the corners of the fruit bin, munching upon her spoils and following the sun's inevitable journey with a pair of enchanting cerulean eyes.

x-x-x-x-x

"Miley, where have you been? We were calling you for dinner for the last ten minutes."

"I'm sorry Mamaw, I guess I just lost track of the time." Miley Stewart responded and casually brushed off her grandmother's questioning as she took her place at the table. Mamaw Stewart was fussing over her favourite granddaughter and applying yet more potatoes to her plate than Miley felt she could ever manage to consume, earning her secretive eye-rolls from her elder brother who was sat opposite her.

The small group soon set about to eating once Robbie Ray had decided that the amount of food upon his plate was sufficient and bid his mother to take her own place at the head of the table. The atmosphere around the table was light and warm, with gentle conversation breaking through any pauses which would settle somewhat unwholesomely on the family. Miley kept to herself throughout their meal, however, choosing to concentrate on the sensation of the tastes of her Mamaw's home-made pies with garden grown vegetables rather than divulge in the trivial matters of football games and pudding recipes. The young brunette was brought out of her daydreams with the clattering of the plates and she rose to help her brother carry the empty dishes toward the sink.

"You've been awfully quiet over dinner Miles, is everything alright?" Her elder brother Jackson Stewart asked her with concerned eyes as he soaked dishes into hot water.

Miley nodded as she awaited the first of the plates for drying, a dishcloth in one hand and a steely resolve to complete the tedious task in mind. "Yeah I'm fine Jackson, just feeling tired I guess."

Jackson nodded his head slowly in agreement with her. They had only arrived on the farm the previous evening, taking the first flight down on a Friday night, but the need to return before Monday's school was now upon them and they would be returning to Californian sunshine around midday on Sunday. "It's been good to get away." Jackson stated, speaking above the scraping of plates in the bowl and the squeaking of the scrubbing brush on their smooth surfaces.

"Yeah. I'm really glad dad let us go on this mini-break." Miley agreed with her brother and set about pressing her towel into the curves of what had been her father's dinner plate.

Jackson was watching his sister from the corner of his eye, unsure as always on how to approach her when she was not being communicative with him. She had recently become distracted and anxious, and this was not surprising due to the surge of magazine articles which had recently come to the forefront of media attention. Hannah Montana had been crippled by allegations which had frightened the teenage pop-star and those who wanted only to protect her. Her father had feared for her safety, Jackson was afraid for her sanity and Miley had shrunk away, become increasingly less responsive and made some strange new decisions which her representatives could only shrug their shoulders at.

"So…" Jackson cleared his throat and began to scrub severely at the pie dish in his hands, "…have you heard from Jake at all?"

Just as the boy had anticipated, Miley paused in her actions and cast her eyes downward to the counter-top. She was stood still and Jackson knew that he had taken a step in the wrong direction with her. If he could have seen her eyes, he would have noticed that they had grown suddenly darker and filled with a coldness which could not be thawed, yet a veil of curly locks blocked her expressions from him and he knew nothing of this.

"Yes." Miley's reply was quietly seething, the word coming out slowly in a thick breath which she could barely squeeze through her gritted teeth. The brunette sighed and her composure loosened slightly, she shifted her feet upon the kitchen tiles and forced herself into a state of calm. Jackson was her brother and he was only doing his duties; he loved her. "He messaged me when we landed last night."

Jackson nodded and hastily returned his attention to the sink full of crockery before him. "Well, that's good then isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's great." Miley answered, far too brightly for Jackson's liking however, and the breezy response unsettled him.

"Did you text him back?" The boy asked of his sister once more, suddenly determined to probe into the depths of Miley's problems. He was certain that he could be the one to tumble the walls which she had built, the fortitudes that kept him and their father out of her head and far away from her heart.

"No." Miley said slowly, "But I will, I'll send him a message when we land tomorrow."

"Okay then." Jackson replied and smiled at Miley. To his relief she managed a small smile in return, but her eyes were full of incalculable sadness and he knew that she was still torn up.

x-x-x-x-x

The bed was warm yet Miley still shivered as she lay quietly alone and listened to the creaks of the house and her father's voice in the lounge below. She felt irreparable in her loneliness and her throat was already becoming taught with her nightly allowance of crying. She blinked her azure eyes slowly and allowed the soft warmth of her first tears to creep down her cheeks, dampening her peachy skin and filling the corners of her mouth with a salty wetness. Miley swallowed and sighed as she blinked again. She shook her head and reached over to the counter-top of her bedside-table to retrieve her phone. She opened the inbox and scrawled down to read the last of her messages.

Oliver: Miles, just saw the headlines on the stand. It's happened again, are you ok? Lilly says you're going to Tennessee this weekend? I'm glad you're getting away for a bit. Let me know how you are and I'll swing by when you get back. Ollie.

Jake: Hey Miley, hope you landed in Tennessee and got there ok. I guess I'll be seeing you when you get back? Thanks again for everything and don't worry, I don't believe what they're saying. J xox

Miley's brow had creased into a troubled frown as she re-read the last text several times, her fingers poised over the buttons on her keypad and she pondered what to reply. She had told her brother that she would the following day and, glancing over at the clock, she decided it was too late to bother him now. Miley exhaled gratefully and returned her phone to its previous position, there would be time later to answer everyone's queries. She rolled over onto her side and stared at the golden light which shone under the crack in the door. Her eyes were irksomely bright and sleep would not be able to permeate her buzzing mind for some time yet. Thoughts were tumbling over and over themselves and her heartbeat was still frustratingly too fast for someone who wished only to enter into dreams.

Miley rolled onto her back with an angry huff, scrunching at her blankets with her fingers which she soon balled into fists. Her hands shortly flew to her face where she pressed her palms into the curves of her cheeks and eyes, seeking relief from the reflections which pounded her mind. It was all useless and whenever she closed her eyes all she could see was headlines and the same images which were re-printed in every magazine all over Malibu, the states and possibly the globe. Words flickered across her unstill mind; laughing, linked, Lola Luftnagle, love, let-down… Yet they all came back to the same one: Lilly.

Beep.

Miley thought that her heart may have stopped and her entire body stiffened. The screen of her phone was glowing brightly, drawing her eyes toward it through the dark room. Miley inhaled the air which her lungs so badly sought deeply before raising a shaking hand to pick up her personal item but, when she read the four words on the screen, she began to wish she had left it at home; One message received: Lilly.

Lilly: Hey Miley. I hope you're having a great time in Tennessee. I'm glad you took my suggestion seriously and actually persuaded your dad to take you. Only, I wish you had told me you were leaving. Things are still pretty bad here. I miss you. But I see Hannah's sorted stuff out with Jake. Ollie says you're an item again? Great. Well, maybe we'll talk when you get back. I miss you. Lilly.

Her bottom lip trembled and she could hardly breathe as more tears cascaded down her cheeks. "How could she have known? How could Lilly have known that all I wanted was to hear from her?" Miley whispered to her quiet room. Her chest convulsed as she released a sob and shaking hands were quick to wipe at her face. Miley's thumb hovered painfully over the call button. The green image of a phone was not even half an inch away from her touch and to hear her best friend's voice again would provide the sweetest relief.

Miley slammed the phone down into the mattress and ignored the pounding within her chest, which was only pleading with her to do the right thing. "Sometimes I've gotta listen to my head." The brunette argued with herself and, after toppling her phone onto the floor, she turned to face the wall with eyes forced shut and a painful darkness brewing in her heart.