Hannah Montana, the pre-teen popstar, has always gotten what she wanted. It was rumored that her mother died and in comfort the "Honky Tonk Heartthrob" Robbie Ray Stewart, a personal friend of her family, stepped up and became her manager, giving her a new dream after her first had been broken. But what she desires now above everything else, something that she may be willing to work for, is to blend into the crowd.

KK, chapter two. I actually got this far. I'm amazed. I'm not that good of a writer, and it's shocking I've managed to get all the way to the second chapter. Enjoy?

Hannah put on a hooded jacket. "Hey Robbie, I'm going to explore for a while!" She called, looking around the vast jungle of boxes.

He stood up a few feet away from her, revealing himself from behind a stack of cardboard boxes. Hannah jumped a little.

"Why the jacket?" He asked, looking at her with a hint of confusion.

"Of course, I'll just walk outside like some normal person. In a flash I'd be suffocated by the paparazzi." She rolled her eyes. "Hannah Montana, the thirteen year old popstar, first seen in California running from the press. Nobody even knows we're living in a normal neighborhood."

"Well, why not just put on a wig or something?"

Hannah stared at him like he was crazy. "A wig? I'm not too interested on sticking hair that's not even mine on my head."

Robbie shrugged. "It's a suggestion. No one will ever recognize you."

Hannah got a serious expression on her face as she considered it. "Actually Robbie, that's a good idea." She took off the jacket and hung it on the newly-unpacked coat rack, turning and starting to pace around the room.

"No running from the press, no obsessed fans who try to tie you up and take you home with them-" she turned and raised a finger toward Robbie. "It was actually more hilarious than terrifying when he refused to tie it tightly because it might hurt 'my beautiful, delicate skin'."

Robbie snorted.

"It would be like I had a completely different life. I'd give myself another name, and you could be like my dad..."

Robbie tilted his head. "Aren't I already like your dad?"

"Yeah, but you can pretend to be my real dad if I do this."

Robbie blinked. "I guess you're going to go through with this." In a lower voice he added, "Me and my big mouth..."

Hannah rolled her eyes at him. "So you suggested a wig. Do you have any?"

"No," Robbie said, "But I'm sure the Wig Emporium will have a few."

Hannah sighed. "I'll get my jacket."

From the second floor came a strangled scream.

Hannah and Robbie both jumped and turned to face the stairs.

"Jackson!" Robbie shouted. "You all right?"

He shrieked, nearly falling down the stairs.

"A SPIDER BIT ME!" He screamed. As he darted past them Robbie snatched his arm and he fell over.

"A spider?" Hannah asked, tilting her head a bit.

"Nah, not really," Jackson said, pulling himself to his feet. He laughed. "You should have seen your faces."

Robbie glared at him. "Yeah, well. How do you like this face, son?"

Jackson shuddered and took a step back. "That's the same look you had when I jumped on you last week."

Robbie frowned. "It's also the same look I had before I grounded you for the night."

Jackson blinked. "That never happened."

Robbie patted him on the back and walked by him. "And now it did."

Jackson gaped at him. "Aw, come on dad, it was a joke! I want to go explore tonight!"

"You can explore your new room. Maybe you will see a spider. Hannah and I are going out for a few hours."

Jackson snorted. "To where? The press will murder you. And I'd really like to have one regular, normal night without the paparazzi banging on my bedroom window – on the second floor." He turned and walked back upstairs.

Hannah watched him go.

"I'm feeling kind of lucky I'm not related to him," She said with a weirded-out look on her face.

Robbie nodded in agreement. "Get in the car," He said, grabbing a set of keys on a box. "And grab the jacket."

Hannah took the jacket off the rack but paused. "Wait...car? What happened to the other two?"

"I sold them," Robbie said, opening the door. "Yeah, three cars in a two-car garage, no, we're just borrowing them. For ten years."

Hannah sighed. "Just tell me the one you saved was the expensive one!" He raised his shoulders and hurried out the door.

She stared at him. "What?! Robbie! I loved that car!" She pretended to tear up. "That car was my life..."

"Okay Robbie, how does this one look?"

He threw his head back. "Wonderful, Hannah. You've asked me that for the past half hour. Just pick one!"

She laughed at him. "I'm sure you'd love to wear a wig as well," She said sarcastically.

He jumped up. "Okay, okay, fine!" He looked over her. "It actually looks pretty good. Brunette, very good choice. That far off from blonde." He grinned and ran his hand through his hair. "And also that much closer to my fabulous hair."

She took off the wig and studied it for a minute. "Wavy, brown. I kind of like it. It'll be a good start."

Robbie turned to look at her. "Remember, Hannah, this isn't going to be your entire life. It's just to walk around like a normal person. You're not going to go to a school or anything."

Hannah got a weird look on her face. Robbie blinked and his hand snapped over his mouth.

"That's a great idea!" She shouted. "Most of my events are at night or in the afternoon! I could do it!"

Robbie looked at her in surprise. "You'd be willing to do all of that?"

She shrugged. "It beats sitting in front of some boring person, being homeschooled. I'd meet people, and make friends."

Robbie sighed. "If it's what you really want, I'll see if I can help. But you'll need a name."

She put the wig back on, before looking at the ceiling, thinking for a few minutes.

She blinked and looked at Robbie. "Wasn't there something my mom used to call me?"

"Well yeah, she gave you a nickname, but-"

"Can we use that? What was it?"

They both slowly stood up.

"Miley," He told her. "Smiley Miley; she said you were almost always happy."

"Miley," She repeated with a grin. "Miley Stewart. Normal person. I like it."