I'm baaaaack!

And so, the story continues...

Disclaimer; I own nothing

The high shriek rang through the house, followed by lower laughter and loud barks. The pounding of feet on hardwood floors was muffled by breathless giggling.

"Leave me alone!" she squealed as my hand brushed her side. She kept running, me following closely behind, and skidded to a stop in front of my mother. I followed suit, my socks making me slide incredibly close.

"I leave the house for a half an hour and you're torturing our guests?" she asked me, a cocky grin pulling at her lips. Olivia turned an adorable shade of pink. I smiled back, and took Olivia's hand, pulling her away from my mother before she could kill me some other way.

"She refused to stay for lunch," I protested, knowing my mother all too well. As expected, her hands rested on her hips, her eyes softening and landing on Olivia's face.

"Why's that?"

"I agreed to go out with Demi and Madison, already," she said, shooting me a playful glare. I returned it, then rolled my eyes. She sighed and resisted the urge to shove me.

"How nice," Mom smiled. "But you'll have to come some other time soon. We'd love to have you."

"Thank you," Olivia grinned, "I will." She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. "But now I have to get going."

"Have fun," Mom waved her off.

"Thank you."

I followed her to the front room and leaned against the doorframe, watching as she pulled on her heeled sandals (A Demi buy).

She was reaching for the doorknob when I began my protest, wrapping my arms around her waist.

"You can't leave, I won't let you."

"Nick," she sighed, amused, I knew. "I don't have time for this."

"But I haven't seen you in a year!" I whined. She shot me a look.

"You saw me yesterday."

"After a year of silence! That was very mean, you know."

"Hey, you're the one who has all my contact information. I don't have yours because you constantly change it. I'm blameless."

"Fine," I pouted, releasing her. "Go to your lunch with Demi."

"I will," she replied, opening the door.

"I hope you have fun," I said, resembling a stubborn elementary school boy.

"I will," she grinned, cockily, not playing into my guilt game.

"You're mean."

She laughed. "Thanks."

I sighed and gave up, a small crowd having already gathered in the front yard because the door had been open too long.

"I'll let you go, on one condition," I compromised. She raised her eyebrows, signaling that she was listening. "I want a kiss."

She looked shocked. "There's people here."

"So?"

"I thought you liked to keep your love life private," she pointed out. I shrugged.

"They'll figure it out eventually. Just don't give them any details. You can do that."

"I suppose," she agreed, her eyes flicking across the yard nervously.

"Just pretend that I didn't go to the salon and start singing," I grinned. She shook her head, smiling.

"That's really hard when your face is everywhere."

"So you're constantly thinking of me?" I teased, leaning on the door frame so that I was cornering her.

"No, I'm constantly annoyed by you," she retorted.

"Aw, so sweet."

She giggled and let me rest my lips on hers. Lights began to flash and suddenly the yard was alive in front of us.

I knew I'd lit a small flame that would quickly become a large fire. I'd shown these photographers sparks and sooner that thought possible I'd be interviewed about my new girlfriend.

As a family, we'd agreed to keep our personal lives private from the press. After all, it was none of their business. However, I just took a step out of line and shot off running. It was only natural that press would follow. It happened to Kevin, it happened to Miley, and now it was my turn. The world was watching Disney grow up, and I'd be damned if I wasn't getting bad-mouthed in the next month.

So, I was taking a chance and living my life. The only thing that worried me, was Olivia.

Olivia's POV

It didn't take long before I was being bombarded by the texts of teenie boppers from my high school. It took less time that I thought it would, actually. Like, less than twelve hours.

I learned two things that day; press works fast, and, no matter how confident you are, you can suffer.

Since the filming of The Last Song, Miley had been being followed by this 53 year-old man who kept saying these crazy things like that they were engaged. Creepy, right? On top of that, though, she'd been dealing with her family. One word. Divorce.

"I don't understand," she was sobbing, tears sliding down her cheeks. I reached out to rub her back and she turned to lean against me.

"I know," I murmured, remembering my own parents' divorce. I leaned my cheek on the top of her head and passed her another tissue. She took it and immediately balled it up under her nose. "It really sucks."

"How could they?"

"Sometimes, people just fall out of love," I offered. "And you really can't do anything about it."

"It's all my fault," she whispered.

"No!" Demi said from the corner, "It's anything but your fault, Miley! Don't think that way!"

"If I'd just stayed like I used to be, we'd still be happy."

"Is this about Can't Be Tamed?" I asked, looking into her red-rimmed eyes. She didn't answer, just cast her eyes to her bitten, bloody fingernails and the remains of the tissues she'd soaked and torn apart.

"Miley, that's ridiculous!" Demi spat, bitter from her own issues.

"Demi, stop yelling at me! I didn't do anything to you!" Miley spat. "Okay? I'm not the one who told the whole world that you checked into a freaking rehab!"

My heart caught in my throat and I looked at them, suddenly anxious to hide in the closet.

"Well, thank you very much!" Demi snarled. "I'm sorry if you think that I'm the one who cheated on your dad with freaking Bret Michaels!"

"Hey!" I butt in. "Stop it! Both of you! The press is nasty! We get it! But you know what? We can't fight now! We have to stick together! All that's important is that we know the truth! We're family, dammit! Families fight! But they don't turn their backs on each other! Especially not in their time of need! Now hug and apologize!"

The girls glared at me, then hung their heads and snuck guilty glances at each other. After a few seconds of awkward silence, the fell into each other's arms and began rattling off apologies.

They were both exhausted, bothered by recent events, and extremely pissed at the press. They needed each other's support. Desperately.

Miley sighed, her cheeks coated with dry salt. "Thanks, Lia."

"Yeah," Demi agreed. "It's such a relief to have you supporting us."

"Of course! I love you guys!" I sat between them and we shared a sweet group hug. Miley's eyes lit up suddenly and she grinned. "I have an idea."

Selena's POV

I was in serious hate mode. I hated the press. I hated lies. I hated disloyalty. I hated broken promises. I hated people who broke promises. But most of all, I hated being alone.

I could name names and I could point fingers, but I won't, because I'm not that type of person. All I'm going to say is that I'd been deserted. And I hated it.

Lately, I'd been labeled the good girl. The girl who'd always be a Disney child. The girl who could do no wrong. And maybe that was a good thing. A squeaky clean reputation opens a lot of doors for me. I don't have to deal with all the drama and rumors of possibly having gotten drunk or something. But you know something? I might have had a reputation as goody-two-shoes, but I wasn't. I was a regular teenager with regular teenage feelings. What I didn't have, were friends to back me up.

Now, as friendly as I try to be, there are boundaries. For example, Olivia.

Sweet girl. I loved her, honestly, and I still did, but there was this major obstacle. Nick. I mean, being best friends with your ex's girlfriend is weird and creepy and looks stalkerish. Plus, it got awkward when we were all in the same room. Just… the way that he looked at her… I wanted that. I'd had that. From him. But he backed out. And he wouldn't have, at least not so soon, if she hadn't dropped back into his life.

Again, I didn't mean to peg the blame on anyone. I meant it when I said that I loved her. But, is it so much to ask for someone to want me the way he wants her? For someone to love me just the way I am?

This is not to say that I wanted Nick back. Hell no. He and I were not for each other.

I don't know… I just felt so alone…

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