CHAPTER ONE – Novemer 2010
Miley sat in her lavish L.A. home, sipping a hot mug of coffee. She let the steam of the hot drink waft up towards her face and fog up her reading glasses. She sighed, feeling the comfort of doing nothing all day wash over her body and provide her a reason to slump even lower, almost as if she was letting the soft-leather couch consume all of her tired, worn-out frame.
After what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, she heaved herself off the soft haven and trudged up the stairs to take a long, hot shower. She put her mug of coffee down by the sink and let herself stop her constant caffeine intakes. She needed a break from it anyway, then again, it was the only thing keeping her from collapsing. Miley began to undress; she took off her sweater, then her sweatpants, then her bra and underwear. She looked at herself in the mirror for a bit. She noticed that she had large purple bags under her eyes. How could she not notice this before? Perhaps it was all the makeup she usually wore, it covered her face and hid any and all imperfections. That was the life of being a star; no tangles in your hair, no clumps due to mascara, no chipped nailpolish, no bruises, no bumps, no scratches and definitely no bags. The industry had no tolerance for imperfections, and if she wanted to make it back to the top, then she had to follow these rules religiously.
Miley stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over her body. It felt good, soothing. Soothing. Soothing was something that she hadn't felt since her days at college. There weren't very many days at all, but the small amount of time she spent there she would never forget. Then, she flinched. The wonderful memories of college suddenly turned dark. She remembered the emptiness she felt inside every night, alone in her dorm. With nothing and no one, but Lily to console her. But the "consoler" wasn't always there, mostly Madmoiselle "consoler" was getting rammed by her numerous partners in the bed less than four feet away from Miley's bed. This happened about three nights a week (different boys every time, might the author ad) and it was those three nights that Miley wouldn't get an inkling of sleep. How could anyone, really? The sound of the flimsy wooden bedframe banging against the wall in a pace-increasing, but rythmic, pattern. And the young, naïve boy's grunts matched with Lily's moans and squeals. The insomnia got even worse when that night's duo decided to try "dirty talk". Miley could still hear their lust-coated words in the dark. God knows, how they figured themselves out in that pitch-black room.
"Ugh, Lily", sighed Miley. All these thoughts that were originally rooted in something soothing were now causing her more and more distress.
One night, when Lily was having another "Sexual Adventure" (with three people this time, she explained an hour earlier that "Miley, it'll be fine, I mean, two plus one equals fun!") and the noises were seeping through from the dorm's washroom, Miley decided that she had had enough. She got up and out of bed with such force, that her arm knocked over the bedside lamp and caused it to land and shatter with a "clang."
"Miles?" called Lily, stepping out of the bathroom, her body covered in nothing but sweat and her skin smelling suspociously like chicken noodle soup. Lily, felt up the walls until her hands reached the switch that controlled the ceiling lamp. "Miles!" Lily called once the light was on, "what happened?" Miley rolled her eyes at the naked blonde before her. "Uh, this happened" said Miley, gesturing to the room around her. "What's that supposed to mean?" said Lily, folding her arms over her chest. Miley opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it. She didn't feel like starting a fight at this hour. Miley took in a deep breath, but as she began to re-start her sentence, a woman's voice called out from the washroom. "Lily! Are you coming back soon? Josh and I can't keep ourselves, uh, entertained without you!" "Josh?" said Miley, eyeing Lily, then the bathroom door. "Yeah," said Lily gingerly, "you know that club we went to last week? Well, he's that bartender who gave me the free coupon for Johnny's Steakhouse." "EW!" cried out Miley, "LILY! HE'S BASICALLY FORTY YEARS OLD! He's probably really hairy, you know, down there." "Well, yeah, Miles, he is. But, you'd be surprised at how awesome that feels. See, when we're getting it on, I can feel the little hairs tickle my-" "Stop!" it's fine Lily. I'll just take a walk outside. I think I need to clear my head. And also, you stink, take a shower." Lily smirked. "And take that shower alone, please." Added miley, putting on her boots and walking out of the room. She silently moved down the dimly-lit hall, doing breathing exercises and telling herself to calm down. "I want this, I want this. This school is one of the best in the country, I want this, I want this. Lily's stupid scandals can't stop me from doing this. I want this, I want this." After roaming the halls at least ten more times, she went back to the now-quiet room and had a good night sleep. Little did she know, the next day would ruin her friendship with Lily forever.
"Thump." The noise came from downstairs, and was loud enough to bring Miley out of her sad reminicense. She pushed the wet hair out of her eyes and stood, frozen in her shower. She tried to listen for another sound, but nothing. She let her body relax, and then she began to lather the soap into her hair once more. Again, she stopped because the noise had returned. "Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud." It was coming from the stairs. The intruder was coming up to the bathroom. Miley's heart began to beat twice as fast, keeping in time with the fast feet of the anonymous criminal. "God, don't let me die, not here, not now," she whispered to herself. The door handle of the bathroom began to turn, and the world seemed like it just slowed down. For many years after, Miley still swore up and down that the world really did stop at that moment. Then, the door burst open with such speed that the handle smashed a hole through the wall and broke a piece of that door clean off. Miley let out a high-pitched scream and slipped on the still rushing, water that had pooled on to a corner of the shower floor due to Miley's foot blocking the drain. She landed on her backside with a slapping sound. She kept her gaze down, awaiting to be stabbed or raped or shot or all of the above, when she heard a cackling, throaty laugh, sprinkled with a few snorts, almost like a pig. The criminal's laugh eventually ceased and there was nothing. Then, the intruder's voice cut through the painful silence like a freshly sharpened knife.
"You done got real scared, cuz. And when you fell on your hiney, I done thought you'd cracked it for sure!" The accent had a real, southern twang to it that made Miley's ears perk up. She slowly lifted her head and was greeted with a familiar face to go along with that familiar voice. Miley was at a loss for air, let alone words. But a few moments went by and she was able to choke out one name. "Luanne?"