Her soft fingertips grazed across the edge of the stage, touching the edge of endless wisps of memories. She leaned back on her heals and crossed her arms. It was a breath taking view – six years of her life, after all. Six years of memories were dancing around her, taunting her until she lost herself in the past.

She swore as she let her eyes skim across the auditorium that she could see hazy figures running across the stage. And she swore, as she placed her elbows on the stage, that she could see an outline of perfect curls bouncing their way along her vision.

She closed her eyes and let her thoughts flow- her imagination lifting up and recalling the past, drawing it perfectly out in front of her. And the four walls of reality came crashing down.

"Miley!" he chuckled, causing his breath to tickle the back of her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her in as close as he could. He took a whiff of her scent and took a moment to immerse himself with her enchantment.

"What?" she giggled, kicking herself out of his grasp. She walked towards the fake kitchen and placed her hand on the pan, a prop that had been lying around uselessly. "You're late for dinner," she scolded him dramatically. She turned around and slanted her eyebrows in scorn. "You're always late," she rambled on.

"Miley…" he trailed, unsure of what she was doing. He tilted his head and slowly took in her innocent expression. She neatly furrowed her eyebrows at him and slammed the pan down on the dining table.

"I always slave around the kitchen and you just waltz in here like its nothing." By now her slender finger was poking him in the chest and he was inching back.

"I'm sorry," he stumbled out. Her anger was still blazing like the sun beating off of the pavement. "You know we're just playing house," he reminded her cautiously. She dug her eyebrows in deeper and huffed.

"This is real life, Nicholas. Real life. Now eat your dinner," she shoved a plate in front of him and emptied out the contents in the pan. She brought the spatula over to his plate and nudged it in front of him again.

"Okay, okay I'm eating," he gave her a look and took of his jacket, hanging it on the wooden chair. He took the spoon that she had given him and dipped into the plate and put it back into his mouth again. "It's really good," he playfully commented on her fake cooked food. She gave him a small shy smile and took a seat opposite from him.

"I dropped the kids off at soccer practice today," she made conversation. He nodded and looked at her, finally getting into the role playing that they were doing.

"Is Nick Jr. as good as his dad in sports?"

"Better."

"Better? How could that be possible," he scoffed. He laid down his spoon and pouted as Miley giggled.

"I'm sorry, but he has his mom's genes too," she teased. "And she's a winner."

"Of course she is," he smiled at her. She blushed and lazily held the hem of her dress, watching as her fingers grazed as its edges. "How's that multi-million dollar movie going?"

"It's going pretty well. I can't wait for all the fans to see it," she bubbled back in excitement. "We shoot in Rome in a month!"

"That far away from me? Can you handle that?" he teased her.

"The question is," she whispered seductively from the other side of the table. "Can you handle being away from me." She licked her lips purposely trying to get a reaction out of him.

"I think I can manage," he stammered. She cackled out her laughter and wrapped her arms around her stomach. He looked at her intently realizing that he had fallen in love with that laugh the day he had met her. He took a moment of silence to reassure himself that this was his reality- that she was truly laughing in front of him.

He placed his hand in the middle of the table, beckoning her to do the same. She sighed and places her small, soft fingers within his.

"I wish this was real," she sighed dreamily. He looked at her with a glint of moonlight in his chocolate brown eyes.

"This is real, Destiny." And just as the memory of the fourteen year old spoke those beautiful words, the four walls of reality built themselves back up again.

She held her eyes close for a moment as she gathered up every other detail that she could remember. She soaked up every memory, whether hazy or not, that she could. And she felt her dry tears begin to seal her eyes shut.

"Miley!" she heard someone yell for her. She twisted her head back to see her mother's slender figure perched at the stage door. "Let's go. The wrap party is in the front room."

"Coming," Miley hoarsely replied. Her mother nodded with a slight understanding.

She took a long look at her final moments on set. And finality set in on her.

She darted her eyes across the three fake walls that made her living room- the three walls that were built to deceive people. It was within those three walls, that she lived a complete lie- a perfect relationship with a kid she barely knew now.

"Goodbye," she faintly whispered. "Its time for me to live in reality." And with that, she finally let go.

A/N Probably one of my saddest Niley things I've ever written. I've never ever directly said they ended, if you noticed in my work. I've hinted they might get back together, but I've never really said they let go. This piece just worked out that way. You can kind of follow the motif of walls and fake and real and whatever and you come to that conclusion. I really like the symbolism I had worked out and I felt like it just worked. You may hate it cause it didn't end out Niley, but I'm really proud of it. It is more than anything an homage to Hannah Montana. You can read it in terms of Niley or not. But it has more meaning than just an end of a relationship but rather an end to a piece of Miley's life. Peace out.