Hey guys! This is my first Hannah Montana story, let alone my first Loliver story. It's kind of a lengthy one-shot, but I hope you stick with it and enjoy!
Lily and Oliver usually placed a lot of importance on their task of keeping big-shot celebrity Hannah Montana grounded. It was their job, after all, as Miley's closest friends, to keep all of the fame and attention in Hollywood from going to her head. Miley desperately wanted to stay connected to her roots as just a normal girl, and Lily and Oliver were always there to counteract all the "yes" men that surrounded her in Hollywood.
So it took a lot of convincing, negotiating and evocation of the "pouty lip" on Miley's part to convince her friends to bypass their typical New Year's Eve plans in exchange for a glitzy party. As it turned out, the owners of a new underage club opening in Malibu were offering Hannah Montana $25,000 to host their New Year's Eve bash. More importantly, the event was to feature a special guest appearance by a Mr. Jesse McCartney. Considering she had no other official, firm plans with Lily and Oliver, it would be foolish to turn down this offer. But there was no way she would ring in the New Year without her closest friends, so if they were out, so was Hannah.
And as much as Lily and Oliver never hesitated to say no to Miley, the idea of a glitzy Hollywood party was rather intriguing. Which was why they found themselves spending the last hours of 2007 sitting miserably in the corner of a dark room flashing with strobe lights, while the bass beats of the techno music shook the chairs beneath them. Worst of all, Miley was nowhere in sight.
Sure, she had made a point to seek them out whenever she had a minute, but as the "Hostess with the Mostess" most of her time was taken up with the obligation of mingling with the "important people." Her friends understood this, so their feelings weren't hurt. But they couldn't help but feel disappointed that their "glamorous" New Year had turned out to be so lackluster.
Granted, it hadn't started out that way. They had entered the club as part of Hannah's entourage, and were greeted with cheers, glamorous cheek-kisses, and glasses of champagne. Their first-ever champagne, to be truthful. But soon after, Miley was swept away with a regretful glance amidst a sea of adoring fans and celebrity types. They had only spoken to her briefly since then, otherwise watching her put on her "Hannah face" and fake socialize with her fake friends. All the while, Mike and Lola were left in the dust.
Initially, Lily had taken it in stride, marking out a place on the dance floor and dragging Oliver along with her. But as they bopped along to a dance mix of some song they had heard once or twice before, they noticed that they weren't surrounded by the typical crowd of a high school dance.
The dance floor was apparently the place to see and be seen, and they were surrounded by the type of teenagers that only exist on reality television. You know, the type that wear designer clothes and drive designer clothes and show up at all the Hollywood hotspots, where they are allowed to pass through the velvet rope because they are famous for doing…nothing.
Then there were the sketchy businessman-types leering from the bar area. And the B-list celebrities who could always be found seeking out the paparazzi cameras littering the room, in hopes of appearing on Page Six the next day, because hey: any publicity is good publicity.
So it didn't take Lily and Oliver long to notice that their presence was garnering a lot of unwelcome attention. Their amateurish dance moves and general lack of a sense of entitlement essentially made them stick out like a sore thumb.
That, and Lily was wearing a bright pink wig.
But this was not your everyday Lola LaFanangle. This was "Hollywood Lola", as Lily had dubbed herself earlier that evening. She had traded in her regular Lola bob for a more "Hollywood glamorous" cascade of curls. In pink, mind you. Miley had been gracious enough to outfit them for the occasion, (although that may have been negotiated as part of the terms of them attending this event), and both Oliver and Lily were wearing clothes more expensive than the rest of their wardrobe combined.
Lily was wearing a plum-colored sequined number, although Miley had talked her out of wearing the feather boa ("I don't care if it's what Hollywood Lola would do!"). She had, however, managed to talk Lily into wearing heels, which was a feat in and of itself. They were only 2-inchers, but they were enough to hold Lola back from her true dancing potential, as well as give Lily some already nasty blisters.
Oliver had been far more resistant to the concept of being "styled" for a Hollywood event. He hadn't been entirely on board for attending said event in the first place, but he figured it was an opportunity to hobnob with some celebrity types, so why not. Plus, if Miley and Lily were going, how else would he spend his New Year? So he agreed, but met with some tension when it came time to choose an outfit. They had wanted Mike to show up in a suit. Not only would Mike Standley never be caught dead in a suit, but the very thought of wearing one made Oliver Oken physically ill.
Both Miley and Lily had tried to convince him, tempting him with the idea of just how smokin' Oken could be in a suit, but he steadfastly refused. It wasn't the clothes that made Oken smokin', that was for sure. He settled on wearing a suit jacket, shirt, and tie with a pair of jeans and sneakers. And no way was he about to let them touch his hair.
But for two beach babies used to finding sand in the bottom of their pockets and in their shoes, wearing couture was asking a bit much of them. They couldn't help but feel like one step and they would pop a stitch and destroy a $6,000 garment. Which, although neither of them were paying for or even keeping the clothes, was a bit much to handle.
And so after being shunned from the dance floor, they found themselves sitting alone at a table, sipping champagne and trying to look like they were having fun.
"You know, this stuff is really not as bad as I expected it to be." Lily said, examining the champagne flute as tiny bubbles of carbonation floated to the surface. "In fact, it's kind of delicious."
Oliver shrugged noncommittally and took another sip.
They looked out over the crowd as the music pounded in their ears. The strobe lights caught a flash of blonde hair across the room, and they spotted Miley in the DJ's booth, laughing alongside Jesse McCartney. Good for her, Lily thought. She was happy for Miley. Certainly it wasn't every girl that got to hang out with her celebrity crush for New Year's Eve.
Miley was such a natural in this atmosphere. She had enough experience schmoozing with these people. She really was a star, and here she was, hosting a glamorous party alongside the cute blonde pop star of her dreams. She was the star in a room full of glamorous beauties.
And then here was Lily, looking like a sparkling Rainbow Brite in an itchy wig and uncomfortable shoes. She should have known that she didn't belong here. "Hollywood Lola" was a farce. She was just a silly girl in a silly wig, playing dress up. As much as she and Miley were similar, maybe they did belong in two different worlds. Miley was the one who got the best of both worlds; Lily was stuck in sneakers and tank tops on a boardwalk in Malibu. She all of a sudden felt very insecure in this big place.
But she looked across the table, and there was Oliver, tipped back in his chair, completely oblivious to anything else around him. He was tossing up salted peanuts from the dish in the center of the table and catching them in his mouth. Only Oliver, Lily thought. Only Oliver would sit in the middle of an expensive party, surrounded by celebrities in their own right, wearing designer clothes, and be so oblivious and unaffected by his surroundings. Oliver would always be Oliver, no matter where he was or what he was doing.
She watched as he tossed up three peanuts and caught them all at once, chewing with a satisfied smile.
"That was pretty impressive." She said, breaking him out of his own little world.
He tipped his chair forward and flashed her a smile. "Thanks! You know, I've been practicing." He picked up another handful of nuts. "Here, try it!" He made like a pitcher winding up for a pitch, leaning back and squinting in concentration. Lily cleared her fuchsia curls from her face, and positioned herself to receive the pitch.
Oliver lightly tossed a peanut across the table towards Lily, who ducked to catch it, almost falling out of her chair. They played this game for a few minutes, with Lily catching less than half of the projectiles. With one precarious toss, she leaned so far backwards that her chair tipped completely over and Lily toppled over backwards, a jumble of pink hair and purple sequins.
Oliver leapt from his seat to see is she was okay, but as soon as he rounded the table, he saw her shaking with laughter in a heap on the floor. He began to laugh along with her, and when he reached out a hand to help her up, she pulled him down to his knees next to her. At this point, they were both laughing so hard there were tears running down their faces.
That was until they heard a girl's voice say loudly, "God, are they letting the fifth grade crowd in here now?" followed by the cackling of her group of friends. Oliver saw Lily's face transform before his eyes. Her smile faded in an instant, and her brow furrowed in an effort to fight back tears. Oliver hadn't expected this reaction; he and Miley usually had a hell of a time controlling Lily and her sharp tongue when someone made a snide comment about any of the three of them.
But this time, Lily wiped away what remained of her tears, swatted away Oliver's extended hand, and pushed herself up off the floor. She brushed invisible dirt off of her dress, adjusted her wig, and announced, "Oliver, we are going outside." She turned on her heel and began to walk towards the opposite side of the club, skating around the edge of the dance floor. Oliver trailed along behind her, trying not to lose her in the crowd. He saw her grab two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, and step out the door without turning to see if he was with her.
Oliver followed her out the same door and found himself on a roomy deck overlooking the beach. Truth be told, he hadn't even known there was a deck to the club, but he should have figured. It was a pretty nice deck, with a variety of couches and chairs and chaise lounges, and candles strewn here and there. But the deck seemed to only be used as a smoking area by the varying degrees of chain smokers they saw before them. Lily lead Oliver over to the railing, where they looked out over the darkened beach.
It was a beautiful night. The moon was full and bright, illuminating the empty beach. Normally a popular stretch of beach, it was deserted at this time of night, especially on New Year's Eve. They stood silently as Lily sipped her champagne, and Oliver watched her. She seemed deep in thought; her usually bright smile was replaced by tightly pursed lips.
He looked at the Lily he had always known, but started to see her in a different way. Normally such a tomboy, the roll out of bed and into the first outfit she found on her floor type, this was the first time he had seen her so dressed up. And he had never ever seen her with this much makeup on. Sure, she threw on some lipgloss every once in awhile, but here she was with movie star makeup accentuating all her features. Looking out over the beach, her face lost in thought and illuminated by candlelight, she looked almost beautiful. Her perfect features made her look like some kind of painted doll. But it wasn't Lily. Lily never wore makeup and she didn't need it. She didn't care about making herself look good or impressing people, which was one of Oliver's favorite things about her. It was what made her so much more tolerable than other girls. But now here she was, looking so natural with all this makeup on. She was still Lily, but she wasn't the same Lily.
He shook himself from his thoughts and reached down to the glass of champagne sitting on the railing between them. He brought it to his lips and was about to drink it when he heard, "What are you doing?" He turned to see Lily glaring at him.
"Uh, drinking my champagne?"
"Excuse you!" Lily said, grabbing the glass from him in a huff before taking a sip. "Get your own champagne, this one's mine."
"But you already drank the other one!" Oliver said, pointing to the empty glass on her left.
"Your point being?" She raised her eyebrow and took another sip, obnoxiously smacking her lips with satisfaction afterwards, just to rub it in.
"Whatever. You know, I never would have pegged you as an alcoholic." Oliver said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the railing.
"Yeah, well, I have to do something to distract me from the fact that I'M GETTING LUNG CANCER EVERY SECOND THAT WE'RE OUT HERE!" she said, glaring at the smokers littering the deck, who seemed nonplussed by her outburst.
That was the old Lily he knew. He looked around for a moment before grabbing her hand and pulling her along towards the end of the deck. "C'mere."
Lily hurried along behind him as the champagne sloshed out of her glass. The reached a set of stairs leading them down to the beach level. When they got there, they found a locked gate between them and the beach.
"What is this nonsense?" Oliver said, tugging on the lock in frustration. "Why would they try to keep people from going onto the beach?"
"Move, idiot." Lily said, shoving him out of the way, hiking up her dress, and climbing over the gate with ease. "It's not to keep people from the club from going onto the beach, it's to keep people from the beach from sneaking into the club." With that, she reached out a hand to help Oliver over. He looked at her hand as if insulted, and made to hop over the gate, but his foot slid on the way over and he ended up in a heap on the sand.
Lily didn't even try to contain her laughter as Oliver hopped up and tried to look smooth as he shook sand out of his clothes. He made a face at her and started off down the beach. She made to follow him, but one step and she nearly did a face plant in the sand. She looked down at her heels, mumbling to herself, "Oh this is not happening." She looped her finger in the straps and slid off the shoes, sighing in relief as she wriggled her toes in the sand.
She looked up to see Oliver a few feet away from her taking off his own shoes. He looked up to see her glaring at him. "What? If you get to take your shoes off, I'm taking off mine!"
Lily rolled her eyes, "Yes, because sneakers are SO hard to walk in." Oliver didn't stop with just his shoes. Before long, his sneakers, socks, jacket, and tie were piled in a heap on the sand, and his shirt was rolled up at the sleeves. "God, I don't think I've ever been this uncomfortable in my whole life." He said, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.
"Oh shut up you whiner, you have no idea what 'uncomfortable' is! At least you got to wear jeans all night!" Lily tugged at her dress and fiddled with her wig, before saying "Oh screw it." Oliver laughed as she tore of the wig and let down her long blonde hair from the tight bun at the nape of her neck. "Ah, freedom!!" she sighed. She tipped back her glass of champagne and finished it off, before tossing the glass in the sand alongside her wig and Oliver's clothes.
Just then she gasped, grabbing Oliver's arm and saying, "Do you hear that?" She cocked her head towards the club, widening her eyes at Oliver with excitement.
Oliver listened for a moment, before a smile spread across his face. "Why, I do believe they're playing Hannah Montana!"
"YEAH THEY ARE!" Lily shouted, taking off across the sand, chanting Who said, who said, I can't be Superman? I say, I say, that I know I can...
Lily danced across the sand with wild abandon, spinning circles and waving her arms in the moonlight. Oliver laughed as he watched her. Now this was Lily. A free spirit unafraid to make a fool of herself, as long as she was having fun. But as he watched her spin, he saw the fading vestiges of the painted doll mixed with the little girl he shared his crayons with in preschool, and he realized that he just might be in love with her.
Lily looked back at Oliver, to see if he was dancing along. But there he was, standing with his arms crossed, laughing at her, his teeth shining in the moonlight. He looked so strange, with nice expensive clothes on. Clothes that fit, rather than T-shirts and shorts that are two sizes too big on him. He looked like…a man, not just a boy. Just thinking that kind of gave Lily the heebie jeebies. They were growing up, she knew that, but she couldn't help but picture Oliver as that same little boy she'd been friends with for so many years. Maybe someday he'd be a man, and not just a boy, but he'd always be an Oliver. And somehow she knew that no matter what, he'd always be her best friend.
She danced over to him, grabbing his arm and trying to get him to dance. But all he did was laugh harder. She tried again, and he dodged out of her grasp. She chased him in circles, eventually grabbing the tail of his shirt. Oliver didn't see this coming, and the force of it threw him off balance. Before he knew it, he had tripped over his own feet and was falling to the sand. But on his way down, he made sure to grab Lily's ankle and pull her down with him.
They lay there in the sand for a minute, laughing and staring up at the stars. Each stood up slowly, brushing off the sand. Lily was somewhat surprised at how unaffected she was by that fact that she essentially had just destroyed an expensive designer dress. Maybe it was the champagne, but it just didn't seem to be very important at the moment. She looked over to see a clump of sand in Oliver's eyelashes. She walked over to him, telling him to shut his eyes. As his eyelids fluttered shut, she tentatively reached up and brushed the sand off his long brown lashes.
It was then that she released just how close they were. She stood there for a split second, contemplating the situation, before liquid courage took over and she threw her arms around Oliver's neck. His eyes popped open in surprise and he looked at her questioningly.
"What?" she said innocently, "We're dancing!" She began swaying to an imaginary beat. After a moment, she felt Oliver's hands rest tentatively on her hips, and he began to follow her lead.
Neither of them knew how long they danced like that, out there alone on the sand, but all of a sudden they heard the chants of Five, four, three, two, one-
"Happy New Ye-" Lily began to say, but she was cut off by Oliver's lips against hers. It was a quick kiss, just a peck, but the first time Oliver's lips had EVER been anywhere near her own.
As he drew back, he saw her shocked expression, and winced. "I'm sorry if that was weird. I just thought, since it was the New Year, and- I don't know. I'm sorry, it was stupid."
His mumbling trailed off and he stood there with his face still forming a grimace, as if he was bracing himself for Lily to smack him. When a few moments had passed and Lily still hadn't said anything, he cautiously opened one eye and peered at her. Her eyes were still wide, but her expression was blank and her mouth was hanging open. He got a little worried. "Lily, are you okay?"
She looked him in the eyes for the first time, and seemed confused. After a moment, she spoke. "I don't know if it's the eight glasses of champagne talking, but I'm thinking you should kiss me again." He smiled, and leaned down to meet her lips again.
The party was dying down and it was finally time for Miley to head home. She was tired after her hosting duties, tired of being a schmoozing popstar for the night. She was ready to go home and be Miley again. But before she could leave, she had to find Lily and Oliver. She felt bad that she hadn't been able to spend much of the evening with them, but hopefully they still managed to enjoy themselves. She had looked around for them at midnight to wish them a Happy New Year, but she couldn't find them. And now that her search of the club was turning up nothing, she was beginning to get nervous, thinking they had decided to leave without even telling her.
That's when she found them out on the deck, curled up on a couch looking out at the waves. Oliver was sitting comfortably, while Lilly was sprawled across the entire couch, her legs lying across his lap. As she walked closer, Miley saw their haphazard appearance, Lily using Oliver's coat as a blanket, and a pile of shoes and wigs socks piled in the chair next to them.
"Hey guys," she cried, "I've been looking for you everywhere! Happy New Year!" They looked over at her and smiled.
Oliver spoke up first, "Happy New Year to you too!" She leaned over and gave Oliver a quick hug, and Lily the same once she sat up. "Did you guys have any fun? I was worried when I didn't see you out there on the dance floor."
This time Lily spoke, "Oh don't worry, we had a great time. It was a great party and you were a wonderful hostess." She smiled up at Miley.
"Well, good. You guys ready to go? I'm bushed."
They stood up and slowly began gathering their things, walking back towards the limo with their shoes in hand. After a few moments, Miley looked back at them. "What's wrong with you guys, why are you being weird?"
Her two best friends exchanged a glance, before Oliver said, "I think somebody's just had a little too much champagne." He gestured towards Lily.
"Champagne?" Miley questioned, looking confused. "Guys, this is an underage club, that was just sparkling cider!" She shook her head and turned to hurry ahead to the limo.
Lily looked to Oliver in surprise but he just chuckled at her. They lingered behind Miley and as they laughed, Lily quietly hooked her pinkie with his.
There you go, hope you liked it! Feel free to review, it makes me happy.
Also, can someone explain to me the story behind Lily calling Oliver "Donut"? I've seen a decent number of episodes of HM, but I've never seen anything about the "Donut" thing, and it's all over the Loliver fanfic. Thanks!