Miley scrolled down the page, scanning the summaries of the stories. One particular one caught her eye. 'Miley hates Joanie, it's obvious. She denies she likes Oliver, but is she lying to her self? MOLIVER ONE SHOT!' Hmm, looks interesting. Her mouse came in contact with the title of the story: I Freakin' Love You! Click.

"I Freakin' Love You! By MOLIVER4EVER.

Miley walked in the school. Almost immediately, there was a smooch-fest between the best friend and the Wicked Witch of Malibu – Joanie. She scowled and walked up.

'Hey Oliver!' she smiled and yelled. He pulled away from Joanie and smiled back. 'What's up?'

Oliver looked at her with a 'what do you think is up?' look.

'Ri-i-i-ight. See ya!' she skipped down the hall, but once she turned the corner, she growled.

'MILEY!' Oliver came running down the halls. When Miley turned around, their lips came in contact. 'I love you.'

'I love you too!' Miley said, happy. They were together!

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Then Miley woke up.

Stupid alarm clock.

She got ready for school and rode the bus there. 'School sucks,' she said, but – thinking about Oliver – she smiled. That was a perk.

'Hey Miles,' Oliver said, casually slinging an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him and smiled to herself. But then he saw Joanie. 'Joanie!' he yelled. He ran up the hall, and Miley, still leaning, ran into a locker.

'Ow.'

Two weeks later.

'I broke up with Joanie, Miley.'

'Why?!'

'Because I want you!'

Kiss, kiss.

'I love you, Miley.'

'I love you too, Donut.'

The end."

Miley burst into a fit of hysterical giggles. Oh, fans and their wild imaginations. She was new to FanFiction, and enjoyed reading all the crazy stories. She had to admit, though – her favorites were of Miley and Oliver coming together. She ran to her room and jerked open the door.

"Mitchel!" she shouted across the hall. The echo rang in her ears as she stared at the white door with a gold star on it proclaiming "Mitchel Musso." Finally, the door opened slightly, revealing a towel wrapped, just out of the shower Mitchel Musso. He shook his hair out like a dog making random water drops everywhere.

"Geez, Mitch, that's your third shower today!" Miley observed. She rolled her eyes at his goofy smile in response. "No wonder why your hair is so greasy!" she teased, bursting into another fit of giggles.

"You'll pay for that Cyrus!" Mitchel threatened in a teasing tone. He stared down at his almost bare body. "Right after I change!" His door slammed shut. Once again, another echo. Miley stared down at her wrist, imagining a clock where her skin was. Twenty minutes later, Mitchel came jogging down the hall to Miley's dressing room.

"You're slower than me," Miley snorted. Mitchel got the hair out of his face with one flick of his head.
"It doesn't take five minutes to get this soft, shiny hair," he bragged. Miley hit him on the arm playfully, forgetting why she invited him over for a second. She escorted him to her laptop, giggling on the way there. "You'll love this," she said sarcastically. Mitchel read the FanFic quickly. "Done," he exclaimed.

Silence.

Impatience.

Where were the giggles?

"Okay…" Miley closed her laptop slowly. "Isn't it funny? I mean, it's totally inaccurate and… silly?" she questioned, confused at Mitchel's blank expression. "I mean, it's not like, real life or anything. It's our two characters, but –"

"I liked it."

"What?" Miley giggled out. "Why?"

"It's cute. Its fluff, but it's cute," Mitchel replied with a shrug. He plopped himself on Miley's purple stretch chair and started reading a magazine Miley was recently on. She took a spot next to him and looked at the article he was reading.

Glamour: Do you worry about your boyfriend is so much older?
MC: I don't feel like I'm doing anything wrong, and I'm ready for people to accept it. My fans already accept it – they just want me to be happy. And I haven't been happy in a few years…working so hard, moving to L.A. from Nashville, going through a bad breakup [with Nick Jonas.] I'm finally happy again, and I think it's reflecting in my music and my work. So honestly, I don't feel like there's anything to hide. And I love him so much I don't really care.
Glamour: How did you meet?
MC: My dad introduced us on the Hannah Montana set. I looked so bad that day. I was wearing sweats and glasses, and we talked. Then he showed up the next day and said, "I can't stop thinking about you. Can I take you to a movie?"

Before the article was over, Mitchel had slammed the magazine shut. Miley had a smile plastered on her face thinking about Justin. She could've sworn she heard Mitchel mumble "Stupid Gaston," but it was probably her imagination running from reality again. Still, she wanted to make sure.

"Mitchy, did you say something?" she asked him, still smiling.

"No, no," he said quickly. "I better leave. I need to get in hair and makeup in five."

"But the producer didn't call you over –"

"See ya, Miles." He left the dressing room, leaving Miley abandoned. She stared at the magazine and scowled. It was just like the episode where Hannah dates the fake boyfriend, the famewhore. Stupid Gaston, stupid publicity scandal, stupid lies. Right now, her whole life was a lie.

And only one person made it right.

-

The next day.

-

"Hey Miles, ready for work?" Mitchel slung an arm around Miley's shoulder and smiled down at her. She leaned into him and giggled.

"No," she replied honestly. "It's so exhausting at times," she said with a long yawn. "I doubt lawyers or doctors wake up at four-thirty in the morning to 'work.'"

"But don't forget, lawyers and doctors don't get paid half a million each time an episode airs."

"Money's not everything." You are.

"I'm aware of that, Miles." Because I would choose you over money any day.

"Good morning!" A perky Emily Osment skipped up to them with a huge smile. She sipped some more of her Starbucks' coffee and jumped up and down.

"Em, even without your coffee, you're so weird. No one on this set is a morning person," Miley said through another lengthy yawn.

"You can say that again." A body picked Miley up and spun her around. Miley struggled, not knowing who it was at first. As soon as she saw it was Justin, she fake-smiled. "Hi, baby," Justin said with a light kiss on the lips.

Sparks? For once? What?

Oh wait, that's just another yawn coming.

"Hey, Gusty," Miley said with a fake giggle.

"Come on, Emmy, let's give them some space," Mitchel said with a shake of his head. They slipped down the hallway, Emily still bouncing like Thumper from Bambi.

Miley immediately slapped Justin in the chest, hard, making him release her. "Ow!"

"You deserve it, bastard. You know I get nauseous easily."

"If you puke, don't you dare puke on me. This is my good white shirt."

"That's a shirt? I thought it was your non-tanned, paper-white skin!"

"Whatever."

He's gone. Finally. Time for Hannah.

-

"Jill, I can't date him anymore," Miley complained to her publicist, Jill Fritzo. [A/N: I looked online – apparently that's her publicist's name.] "He's ruining my life!"

"Aww, honey…" Jill said in a sympathetic voice. "Did Whitney Houston become a legend by being single? No, she dated, hun. She even got married."

"They divorced," Miley replied.

"Not the point," Jill said quickly after. "The point is, she got even bigger after marriage! She was on the headlines, in all the tabloids! Don't you want that?"

"Not if it's going to ruin my life, Jill. I've already made my decision. I'm sorry."

-

"Justin!" Miley yelled. She had a fake smile on her face. She looked around quickly. No one was there. The smile quickly turned into a scowl as he turned around to face her. He walked over to her slowly, a smirk on his face. He had just signed an autograph for a girl about ten years old. Ahh, fame. It's addicting. Once he reached her, he smirked more at her angered expression.

Here comes my fame source.

"We're over."

And there it goes.

"What?!" Justin exclaimed, outraged. "But we're made for each other!"

"We hate each other's guts!" Miley yelled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Aww, baby." Justin attempted to hug Miley, but she squirmed out of his grasp. "Sure, we've had bumps along the road, but that shouldn't stop you."

"Watch me, 'baby.'"

And she walked away, head held high, heading for the golden star named Mitchel Musso.

-

Knock, knock.

"Hey, Miley," Mitchel said, confused on why she was here. She brushed past him, inviting herself in.

"I need to talk to you. Now."

"Uhm, okay?" Mitchel said, getting more confused by the second. He closed the door behind them. Miley rested her hands on a table, her back facing Mitchel.

"I'm a sap," she started, "so this will sound so cheesy. When you laugh, I can't help but laugh too. And, whenever I'm near you, I can only smile. There's never a moment when I don't long for you to hold me in your strong arms and whisper to me how much you love me while you stroke my rats-nest hair. I never can get you off of my mind. It's crazy how much I love you. I get jealous when any other girl is around you, and I love it when you sometimes just take me off to a faraway place, whether it's a pirate ship and the captain's wheel is actually just a spork from the set cafeteria to when we go off to the Caribbean and the evil doer is the stunt doll. And, secretly, I wished that FanFiction we read the other day actually happened to us. To sum my rambling up, Miley Ray Cyrus is in absolute love with Mitchel Tate Musso."

When Miley turned around, her face was cradled in between Mitchel's hands. Their lips brushed, and it felt completely normal. They smiled in the kiss, and deepened it ever so slightly. When they finally pulled apart from each other's warm embrace, Mitchel wrapped his arms around Miley's small waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. One of Mitchel's hands found its way to her hair and he stroked it lightly. He led Miley to the couch in his dressing room and pulled her into his lap. He rocked her back and forth, continuing to stroke her hair.

"I love you, Miley."

"I love you too, Donut."

The End.