I do not own Hannah Montana.
Ashley Blake brushed back her gorgeous waist length black hair and sipped her water with the tiny lemon wedge. "Ashley, there's no way you are going to make number one on the charts with that bottle-blond lip syncher!" her mother/manager said, more to herself than to Ashley. "And that's what you want, right?"
Ashley sighed. She wanted it, but Hannah Montana (the "bottle-blond lip syncher") was really nice. And she didn't lip sync all the time. Only when necessary, like all good celebrities! "Answer me, Ashley." Ashley looked her mother in the eye and said, "Yes, Mom, I want to be on top," in complete monotone. Her mother waved her off and said, "We need more training. You need to be at the peak of your popularity among the fans. Stay after shows to talk and sign autographs. Help out random people you see on the streets. Go to public school."
Ashley sat up straight. "What?" she gasped. "Public school?" Her mother shrugged. "Your record label's producers think that public school is a great way to get out there and active! And I guess I agree. But, no worries, we'll send you with at least two bodyguards." Ashley sighed again. "Fine."
Her Sidekick LX began ringing and one of her Spanish hits blared through the phone's speakers. "¡Nunca dé para arriba! ¡Crea en se! ¡Oh, oh, oh, sí! ¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!" sang the phone. She rushed over and pressed the "Send" button.
"Hola?" she said into the phone. "Ash, hey, it's Hannah Montana," a friendly voice greeted. "Si, hi, Hannah." Her mother sent her a look of death. "Be mean," she whispered. Ashley tearfully nodded. Hannah was her best friend in the celebrity world. But her mother was her manager, and what she said went. "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me and my friend?" Hannah asked. Ashley scoffed, "Puh-lease, why would I give you and your pathetic poor friend the time of day? Oh, no, wait, I will. It's time for you to get some voice lessons and for me to hang up. Adios." And she mashed "End" furiously. "Hey, Mom…" Ashley suddenly asked. "What's the name of the school I'm going to now?"
"Seaview High."
Miley looked at her iPhone with complete shock. She'd just gotten off the phone with Ashley Blake, a new Spanish/English singer who was hot on the charts. They were best friends at the all-celebrity party she'd attended. But what happened? She shrugged and threw her phone across the room with precision. It landed on a fluffy pillow on her bed. Then, she crawled into bed, clapped (the lights shut off), and fell asleep.
The next morning was school. Miley wore some light wash skinny jeans with embroidered pink flowers on the legs, chocolate brown knee-high Uggs, a light pink V-neck tunic, and a large white waist belt. She pulled her hair up in a high pony with a few wavy bangs hanging out. Then she grabbed an oatmeal bar for breakfast and hurried to get to the bus stop. When she did, rumors were flying across the aisles.
Miley plopped down next to Lily and asked, "What's all of this stuff about? I can't make it out; it's like all one word." Lily's eyes bugged as she filled Miley in. "Rumor has it (and as you know, our rumors are normally completely true) that Ashley Blake is coming to our school!" Miley hit her head against the seat in front of her and almost cried. "Are you kidding me?" Lily looked puzzled. So Miley told her all about last night. "…and she was a complete class-A brat who didn't know her proper place on the celebrity food chain!" Lily looked less puzzled, but still confused. "Are you sure we're talking about the right person? Last time I checked, Ashley was totally and completely amazingly nice." Miley shrugged. Then they were at school. The rumors were true.
The bell was to ring for Homeroom in about five minutes. Miley and Lily were sharing beauty tips with each other at Miley's locker, when the doors slammed open. There was the Spanish beauty, smiling deviously with her two bodyguards right behind her. Her luscious black hair had been straightened and pulled into two long pig tails. Her lips were pink and glossy, and her eyelids were shimmering and heavy from all the makeup caked on them. Her cheeks were rosy and beautiful, and her button nose was powdered to perfection. Her blue eyes stuck out even more in contrast to her makeup and hair. She was decked out in all the latest designer clothing; a Prada handbag; Jimmy Choo black pumps; a Miu Miu pleated micro mini; and a Ralph Lauren faded black blazer. Her necklace was a Spanish gem of some sort with her name carved in it. She smiled her bleached-white and straight smile and strutted over to her locker. It was right next to Miley's.
Review 4 the next chapter. Or I might just write it anyways!