Okay, obviously the only part of this story that is true is that part about Miley helping Nick and his brothers get worldwide big, but she didn't help the way she did in the story...clearly. Ha, but enjoy. This is kind of different for me to write.
The song used is 'Hear You Me' by Jimmy Eat World. Listen to it. It's really amazing.
I stepped out on stage for the second encore of the night, hearing the screams of the crowd through the expensive ear plugs I was wearing. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but this had to be done. She deserved this much. She deserved the world and more. She deserved so much more than I could ever possibly give her. The story had to be told somehow. I owed her. She's the very reason why I'm standing on this stage surrounded by over eighty thousand screaming fans. She helped me find my big break into the business; no matter how much I tried to prevent her from doing so.
I sat on the stool that had been placed on the middle of the stage and nodded to Kevin on the right of me. He started plucking the melody to the song I had just written earlier that week, the drummer joining in on the tune. Then I soon joined in with my own guitar. It was the song I wrote on the day I got that fateful phone call. I still couldn't believe that it had happened. I had been in a state of shock that took more than two days to get out of. I had called her cell phone a countless number of times, receiving her voice mail after each attempt. I don't know why I had tortured myself, but I did it anyway. The last time I called the number, it was disconnected. I didn't want it to be true. It couldn't be true. She was only sixteen. She had so much life left to live.
There's no one in town I know,
You gave us some place to go
I never said thank you for that,
Thought I might get one more chance.
Iremembered the first day I ever met her. I was sitting on a street corner in LA, strumming along to a song that I had just written. My guitar case was open next to me for people to toss their spare change into. I was doing my job. It had been my job for the past two years since my father lost his job. Due to the failing economy, the law firm was making major cut backs. My father just happened to be one of them. My mother was a stay at home job, so we weren't getting any income from her. My dad had started at another job at entry-level, my two older brothers tried to get jobs, but the pay was so low, it could barely pay for the food to put on the table to feed the six of us. My family wasn't broken, it was full of love and I was thankful for that, but love just wasn't going to cut it. Love didn't pay the bills. So I had decided to play on the streets to try and earn extra money for the family. So we wouldn't have to starve every night.
The average cash I got per day was twenty dollars. But I loved singing and performing, so I didn't mind. I was currently singing along to the Beatles 'Here Comes The Sun', when she came strolling along. There was already a small crowd gathered around me, and she joined in, watching me with her intense dark blue orbs. Even at fourteen, they were intimidating and I could hardly stand it. I knew who she was, of course. What person of America, and even worldwide, didn't know who Miley Cyrus was? She was in disguise, but I could still see her brown curls peeking from underneath her darker colored short hair wig. After the song was over, she tossed a few hundred dollar bills into my guitar case. My eyes were wide open in shock, and when I looked up to meet her eyes, he was gone.
The next day when she came along, the song was 'Karma Police' by Radiohead. She had a guitar case in hand and she sat next to me, pulling out her sleek Gibson acoustic, making my Wal-Mart bought guitar pale in comparison. Everything about her screamed 'rich', while I was just some poor boy, struggling in life. She joined in on the song, her voice blending harmoniously with mine. We had gathered the biggest crowd I had ever received, and when the song ended, we were met with applause along with tons of money being thrown into both of our guitar cases. She had played with me all day, neither of us sharing a word. I would start playing a song, and she would join in with no problem at all. When it got dark, I packed up my things, and she graciously dumped all the earnings from her guitar case into my own, doubling the amount of money, then leaving without a word. I had made almost two hundred and fifty dollars that day.
What would you think of me now?
So lucky, so strong, so proud,
I never said thank you for that,
Now I'll never have a chance
She came back every day that week, and it would be the same thing. She would join in on whatever song I would play, and then she would leave after giving me the money she had made. Finally, I gathered enough courage to speak to her one day.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.
"It looks like you needed it. You're an amazing musician." She said. I ignored her compliment.
"Let me at least pay you back. You like coffee, right?" I asked, hauling my guitar case over my shoulder and pointing to the nearby Starbucks.
"Sure. My treat, though." She said, walking down the almost deserted streets.
"Miley, you've been giving me money all week, let me pay. Please" I begged. I hated feeling like her charity case. Granted, my family was thrilled with all the money I had been bringing home, but taking money from her made me feel pathetic.
After we ordered, and I made sure I paid, we sat down in a booth next to the window.
"So why do you play out on the streets? You could easily get a record deal" She sure didn't waste any time jumping into the conversation.
"I play on streets, because I love doing it. I'd rather be doing that and not getting much money than doing a job I hate. Music is my passion." I answered.
"I could set you up with Hollywood Records, get you an appointment. I know they'd love you." She said.
"Thanks, but no thanks. You've already helped enough." I declined. I quickly finished my hot chocolate, the cheapest thing on the menu, and said goodbye, leaving before she could get another word in.
May angels lead you in,
Hear you me, my friends,
On sleepless roads the sleepless go,
May angels lead you in
Miley and I grew closer over the next few weeks. We bonded quickly over our love of music. She even invited me and my family over to her house for dinner. During that time, her family grew on me. Their hospitality never ceased to amaze me, and neither did Miley's stubbornness. Every day she would constantly try to set me up with agents from her label. I refused every time. I wanted to do this on my own, not because I was friends with the worldwide famous teenage girl.
Jumping back into reality, I stared out into the crowd who had raised their cell phones and were holding them to the sky, waving them back and forth. Tears slipped from my eyes as I myself looked towards the sky. I could feel her presence. I knew she was watching me. She was my angel. My saving grace. She was my role model, my mentor, my muse. I knew she would be watching over me every second of the day, just like she had for the past two years.
Her death was so unexpected. Yes, we all knew she had haters, but she had been managing it so well. She didn't let her haters stop her from doing what she loved every day of her life. But she suddenly changed. She started to look unhealthy, too skinny. She didn't have time to do anything other than perform and do interviews. All she did was workout in her spare time. She didn't have enough time to eat healthily like she was supposed to. It was taking a toll on her body. She ignored the changes; writing them off as stress. But it was so much more than that. So much more. If only I could have noticed sooner. By the time I could talk to her about what I thought the haters were getting to her, it was too late. She had such low energy from not eating and only exercising, she slipped into a coma. She wasn't even in the coma too long before her life was taken away from her. I wasn't even at the hospital to say goodbye. At the time of her death, I was on stage performing for fans that she helped me achieve. And that killed me. I felt so selfish. She was the reason why I had a career, and during her lowest hour, I wasn't even there to be with her. Her mother reassured me that Miley didn't blame me, and that she was so happy and proud of my success. That's all that she wanted for me.
I owe everything to her. If I could take her place in heaven, I would do it, no questions asked.
Miley had set me up against my will. One day when I was playing on my street corner alone; she came by, a very official looking person in a suit in tow behind her. The moment I saw the tall man wearing sunglasses, I knew who he was. Some sort of agent that worked for Hollywood Records. I had given Miley hell for that. But she didn't care. She ignored everything I threw at him and told me that my voice deserved to be shared with the world. And that I had a talent that couldn't be wasted.
After everything took off, I grew more and more thankful for having Miley in my life. After our (Kevin and Joe joined me, we became known as The Jonas Brothers) first album released, we were drowned in money. Enough money to make sure my family and I would never have to suffer again. My family and I were set for life. That was all I wanted. I loved my parents and I would do anything for them.
Sometimes, I couldn't help but feel guilty. I wasn't purposely using Miley, but when she kept shoving opportunities in my face, I couldn't help but feel that it was what I had been doing the whole time. Of course, she denied it, saying she was only trying to help, and she knew I hated every second of it. It was true. Of course I didn't mind the fame and the money; but living my life inside of a fishbowl was the hardest part of my life. I admired Miley for handling it with such grace and poise.
Our first tour, we opened for Miley. That seven month long tour gained me enough fans to last a lifetime. Miley helped produce our second album, and it was a huge success. Miley never left my side, not once. she could have just given me those hundred dollar bills, and then walked away for good. But due to her hard-headedness, she stuck by me. She supported me through everything I went through. She loved me like a girlfriend would, which is what I started to view her as. She was no longer just my best friend. She was my girlfriend, my soul mate.
Her funeral was the day before, and it was the hardest day of my life. Even harder than the day my dad came home and told us that he had lost his job. I couldn't even cry. It hadn't sunk in yet. I was still in denial. There was no way she was gone. she was so full of life and promise. I could still see her. I imagined her standing right next to me, holding my hand to console me. But when I stared straight ahead, I could see her pale body laying in the half open casket. The moment they lowered her body into the ground is when it had all sunk in. I fell to the ground in a broken mess, Tish falling right along with me, holding me in her arms as we cried together. Her siblings, father and my family gathered around us as we all broke down. A broken mess of a family. They were my family now. All thanks to her.
Miley Ray Cyrus. My heart, my whole world, my savior. The girl who wouldn't let me go. The girl who gave me a chance to live. The girl who never once put herself before anyone else. The girl who had so much to offer. The girl who had the hugest heart. The girl who never wanted to see others in pain. The girl I loved with all my heart and soul.
And if you were with me tonight,
I'd sing to you just one more song,
A song for a heart so big,
God wouldn't let it live
May angels lead you in
Hear you me, my friends,
On sleepless roads the sleepless go
May angels lead you in.