Yeah, sorry. I was sick. And then I made cookies. Fresh snickerdoodles trump fic, y'all. That's just a fact of life.

Also! I probably should have said: this story will have only the smallest smidgeon bit of L/M. It is mostly gen. I'll probably write a (short) sequel at some point that deals with that, but if that's what you're reading for here...sorry. You might want to stop.

lita rocks LbC: Okay, I'm not quite sure I understood the question, but let me lay out the timeline. Miley goes into Amissverse in October of 2006. She is there with AV Lilly until canon Lilly comes in March of 2008. In the canon verse, both AV Hannah and AV Lilly arrive at the same time (October of 2006 again) because AV Lilly is pulled back in time (whereas canon Lilly went forward). So Miley and the other Lilly are in the same universe together, but AV Hannah and our Lilly never are. Does that make sense? Time travel is confusing. (Also, that is the only iCarly fic I've written. That fandom is hard. But if you're looking for good iCarly fic, you should read Chash's crossover with SPN. It's gen but seriously brilliant. No knowledge of SPN required beyond its premise. I can link you if you want.)

LadyTru: Awww, I love Oliver in the show. I mean, not season three Oliver, but that doesn't count. I don't like season three Lilly either. But that's because the writers FAIL and are destroying the characters, so I don't hold that against them. Also, yes, that is where she got the bruise. I would have forgotten about it myself had I not written a note in all caps like a year ago not to. Because I'm super organized like that.

estephany: I like them too! And don't get frustrated, because your English is really good. If you hadn't told me it wasn't your first language, I wouldn't have known.

Thank you so much for all of the comments. You guys are all way more awesome than I am. Seriously.

———————————————

Chapter Two: Don't Wanna Be Here

———————————————

she never stumbles,
she's got no place to fall.

– Bob Dylan, She Belongs To Me

———————————————

13 October 2006

Hannah didn't remember until she opened her eyes and sat up, and then it all came in a rush, as strong as a riptide pulling her out to sea. The room was the same one she'd fallen asleep in. She sat in bed for a few minutes, fighting the desire to lay back down, to sleep until she woke up in the right one. Then she got up and went to shower. She was used to fulfilling her obligations and she'd hold up her end of this. Today that meant school.

Would Miley be trying to return the favor? Hannah had to trust that she would. She wouldn't have any reason to try to mess up Hannah's life, and from the way Oliver talked about her he thought she and Lilly were just about the two best people on the planet. Hannah was sure Miley would try her best, because that's what she was doing, and they were the same person, sort of, weren't they? She just wasn't sure if Miley's best would be enough.

Breakfast today was cereal – there was no one in the kitchen when she went downstairs and no indication that Robby Ray was cooking anything – and she was almost finished with hers when Jackson came stumbling down the stairs. He looked like he was still half-asleep, but immediately perked up when the back door opened and Robby Ray came in, red-faced and out of breath, his sweat-soaked shirt signaling he'd been out running.

"Daddy!" Jackson exclaimed. "Dear old Dad, the man I hold closest to my heart, you shining beacon of love, you. Have I mentioned how fabulous your hair is looking this morning?

"Whatever it is you want, you ain't getting it, boy," Robby Ray said.

"I'm shocked you'd think that of me, Dad," Jackson gasped. "Shocked and dismayed. Do you really think the only reason I'd ever compliment you is because I'm trying to get something from you?" His offense was so patently false that Hannah had to look away to keep from laughing.

Robby Ray stared at him a minute. "Yep," he said shortly. Hannah bit down on a smile.

"Dad!" Jackson whined. Robby Ray got a drink from the fridge and gulped it down, not relenting an inch. "Okay," Jackson said, giving in. "I just need a little cash for gas money, just a tiny, tiny loan. I swear I'll pay you back as soon as I get my paycheck – "

"Not gonna happen," Robby Ray told him.

"But I really need it!" Jackson begged.

"Nope," Robby Ray said.

"How much?" said Hannah.

Jackson stopped his pleas to Robby Ray, confused. "Uh, twenty dollars maybe?"

"I have twenty dollars."

Jackson crossed his arms over his chest, face scrunching up in annoyance. "That's great, Miles, way to rub it in."

"I meant I have twenty dollars you can have," Hannah clarified. Had Jackson been this slow on the uptake in her world? It had been so long since she spent time around him she didn't really remember.

Jackson and Robby Ray looked at each other, then back at her. "Wha-a-a-a-t?" they asked.

"I have twenty dollars you can have."

"I...," Jackson said. "I...but...I mean, thanks. I'll totally pay you back as soon as Rico pays me next week. I promise."

"Okay," Hannah said, shrugging, because what was twenty dollars? She spent more than that at Starbucks every day.

"Are you sure you want to do that, bud?" Robby Ray asked. He ignored Jackson's frantic gestures for him to stop talking. "You know you've got another week to go before you get your allowance."

No. Of course she didn't know that. Why the hell would she know that? Why the hell would she have an allowance? Even in this world she had to be a millionaire. She'd had three platinum albums and her last two tours had sold out!

Jackson's shoulders had slumped. He was obviously waiting for her to take back the offer. "Sure," Hannah said, and didn't try to stop the smile that came when he looked over at her, astonished but grateful. So what if she had an allowance? She'd spent years not noticing or caring what Jackson wanted and look what had happened. As far as she was concerned, he could have a lot more than twenty dollars.

"All right, but I don't want to hear you asking me for an advance in a couple days," Robby Ray said. "And don't forget, I'm picking you up from school today, bud. Lilly too, if she's going, which I expect she is." Hannah had no idea. She didn't even know where they'd be going. So she just nodded and waited for him to continue. "We'll stop by here so y'all can change and then we're going straight to San Diego. The concert starts at seven."

Hannah sat up straighter. A concert. She would get to perform tonight.

That would make sitting through eight hours of school completely worth it.

———————————————

Hannah Montana woke Lilly for the second time in two days. She groaned, half out of pain that stabbed under her ribs when she moved and half out of disappointment at finding herself still in this place, even if she'd been expecting it. She rolled over and slapped hard at the alarm clock but the noise didn't cut off. Lilly forced her eyes open and pushed herself upright with her arms to avoid further pain.

The noise wasn't coming from the alarm. It wouldn't be, Lilly realized, because she sure as hell hadn't set the thing last night. Hannah's screech was coming from the bookbag on the floor by the desk, sitting untouched where Lilly had thrown it after school yesterday. Lilly was definitely not a homework person.

She hauled herself out of bed and over to the bookbag, digging around in it until she found the cell phone and groaning when she moved too fast and it sent another twinge of pain racing across her stomach. She couldn't believe this girl had a Hannah Montana ringtone. God, what a loser. Hannah was so last year. No wonder Amber and Ashley wouldn't have anything to do with her. Lilly certainly wouldn't have if she had any choice in the matter.

It was Oliver. Lilly really didn't want to talk to him. There was only one reason he was calling. She answered it, barked, "Still here," then hung up and turned the damn thing off. She had her own problems to deal with, she wasn't going to sit around and listen to Oliver whine about how he missed his friends or how she better not screw up their lives. Like, hello. This Lilly's life was already crap. No money, no social status, stuck in some nowhere high school instead of out partying with the Hollywood elite. What was there to screw up?

Lilly had just gotten back in bed when Heather started banging on the door and screaming. "Lillian! Why are you still in bed! You have five minutes to be dressed and downstairs!"

Hannah Montana, the bruise, banging. It was turning into freaking Groundhog Day over here.

"I'm not going!" Lilly yelled back. She'd never liked that movie.

The door swung open. Damn, she must have forgotten to lock it. Heather briskly crossed the room and laid a hand on Lilly's forehead. "No fever," she said. "And you look fine."

Yeah, right. She was fourteen, practically flat-chested, and at least ten pounds heavier than Lilly had ever been. And that wasn't even mentioning the clothes and make-up situation.

"I didn't say I was sick," Lilly snapped. She was, though. She was sick of this stupid body and this stupid world. No more playing along. "I said I wasn't going."

Heather put her hands on her hips and glared, apparently over whatever concern she'd felt last night. Big shocker there. "It's not optional, Lilly. You're going to school."

"Like hell." She flopped back on the bed and threw the covers over herself, only have them snatched back a second later.

"Excuse me?" Heather demanded, her eyes sparking with fury, and here was the mother Lilly remembered. "You do not speak to me that way. Get out of the bed." She grabbed Lilly's wrist and pulled her off the mattress, leaving Lilly with the choice to either stand up or crash to the floor. She picked standing. One bruise was bad enough."Now get ready for school. You're going. And one more word out of you and you'll be grounded for the next week."

Whatever. It wasn't like she had anywhere to go. Lilly yanked hard on her arm and it went flying out of Heather's grip, momentarily startling both of them.

"And that includes Miley's concert tonight," Heather added. So she knew about Miley being Hannah. Not much of a secret. Why didn't Hannah just take out a billboard?

"Like I care," Lilly said, standing stubbornly in place. She was expecting an explosion. She knew a button when she pushed it. Instead, Heather's attitude softened into concern.

"Is there something going on you're not telling me?" she asked. "I know how much you love going to Miley's concerts."

Please. She'd been to Hannah's concerts about a million times. Lilly was so over them. She went for another button. She knew all of her mother's by heart. "None of your business."

Bullseye. Anger on. "Watch it, Lilly. You're this close to spending the weekend in your room. Go downstairs and eat breakfast. You know how you get when your blood sugar is low. And I expect an apology when you finish."

"An apology? For what?" Lilly's voice rose. She was furious that Heather wasn't screaming at her like she should have been. "You're the one making problems! I just want you to leave me the hell alone!"

That was at least two or three buttons at once, but these had no effect. Heather wasn't mad now, only worried. "Lilly. What's wrong with you?"

Lilly hated it when her mother said that to her, she hated it."Nothing is wrong with me!" she screamed. Heather used to ask her that all the time before she left home. Angry, upset, uncomprehending, Lilly had heard the whole range.

What's wrong with you, Lilly? Why would you do something like that?

Where were you all night? You didn't call, what's wrong with you?

Were you drinking? What is wrong with you?

"Why are you always saying that? There's nothing wrong with me!"

There wasn't, damn it. Lilly just wanted to do something with her life. She wanted people to like her, she wanted to be someone. Rich. Famous. Important. She would do what she had to do get there. Heather had never understood that, she didn't understand that you had to look right, dress right, act right, know the right people, go to the right places. That was how you got to be somebody, and Lilly was going to be somebody. There wasn't anything wrong with her.

"There's nothing wrong with me, okay? What the hell's wrong with you?"

"That is enough, Lilly," her mother said, frost coating her words. "Get dressed. Now. You're going to school. We'll discuss this later when you've gotten control of yourself."

"I told you, I'm not going to school."

"You're going if I have to drag you out to the car in your pajamas!" Heather sighed and visibly let go of some of her anger. "Lilly, honey, I know there's something going on here. You haven't gotten up to go surfing in two days, you didn't eat yesterday – "

"I ate at school," Lilly lied, defensive. What's wrong with you? You barely eat anymore.

" – you're not acting like yourself at all. Talk to me, sweetheart. Please. Tell me what's wrong. Whatever it is, I'll help you."

Oh, yeah. Sure. No problem. Heather could just zap her back into her life. "What do you care, anyway?"

"I'm your mother, Lilly. Of course I care."

Right. Lilly needed to get some money and get out of here. Her mom would stop caring pretty quick after that. "Whatever."

Heather shook her head and went to the door. "Get dressed. Eat something. I'll drive you so you're not late. And we'll talk about this once you've learned to be civil."

"Don't hold your breath," Lilly muttered under hers.

———————————————

Lilly's locker was next to Miley's and Miley was already there when Lilly arrived, Oliver hovering at her shoulder. She turned to him as Lilly approached them from behind. "I remember the combination, Oliver. And her schedule. It'll be fine. I'll see you in class, okay?"

He huffed and left after pointedly not looking at Lilly. Big loss, Lilly thought sarcastically. "Getting fed up with him?" she asked. She certainly was.

"No," Miley said. Despite her earlier words, the lock failed to open after Miley spun the combination and tugged on it. She groaned and started spinning the dial again. "He's nice. I've just got a little too much other stuff on my mind, you know?"

"No kidding."

The locker opened on Miley's second try and she peered into it, then at Lilly. "So we're still here."

"Yeah," Lilly said. She wasn't about to tell Miley they would be here a long time. Not yet. There had to be some way she could use that information to her advantage. And she didn't want Miley or Oliver asking questions about what had happened to Hannah the last year and a half, or finding out that Lilly had known her. God, Oliver. He'd be unbearable if he knew.

"I've got an allowance," Miley said.

Lilly smiled thinly. "My parents are divorced."

"You win," Miley said, her lips quirking, and for a second Lilly's smile was real. For a second everything didn't seem so overwhelmingly horrible. Then the bell rang.

Lilly sighed. "Another day..."

"Another ten thousand dollars lost because I'm wasting my time here," Miley finished. This time when they smiled at each other, bitter, it didn't help at all.

———————————————

Today's schedule, written in Oliver's chicken scratch, said second period was World History, and the walls of the classroom were plastered with maps and the flags of more countries than Hannah wanted to count. The teacher's name was C-something. Hannah couldn't make it out.

Oliver and Lilly were in the class with her and Oliver wouldn't stop turning around to check on her, anxious. What did he think she was going to do trapped in a desk all day? Give the other students a free concert? Start passing out flyers that said I'm really Hannah Montana?

The worst that could happen was a teacher would call on her and she wouldn't know the answer. And, honestly, she'd looked through Miley's notebooks and papers, and it wouldn't be the first time.

"Good morning, class!" The teacher sailed into the room and it was Mr. Corelli. The first thing Hannah thought was that he would recognize her, and she almost jerked Miley's notebook off the desk to cover her face. Then she realized how stupid that was. Of course he would recognize her. As Miley. Because Miley was in his class.

Hannah sat back in her desk, grinning a little, and watched him bounce around the classroom saying hello to everyone. It was good to see a familiar face, to see someone she was supposed to see every day. She wished she'd had this class yesterday.

She had always liked Corelli, and here was at least one class where she didn't have to feel bad about Miley getting behind. Corelli had never made her do anything. His class must be a party.

Corelli made it to the front of the classroom and beamed out at the students like he was about to suggest they adjourn early and go to SeaWorld instead. Hannah wouldn't be surprised. "Okay, okay, okay," he said. "All eyes on me people, because today I'm going to be explaining how you're going to do the super fantastic project that is worth thirty – " He broke off to scrawl a giant 3 and 0 on the chalkboard. " – yes, thirty percent of your grade. So let's get to work."

Hannah clenched her hands on her legs. She hated how this world was, how everything had to be different, how every time she thought something would be slightly normal it turned out not to be.

———————————————

Lilly mostly spent her time in class watching Miley and planning. The other girl doodled things in her notebooks or stared out the windows, her face reflecting indescribable boredom. Occasionally she would glance at the board and write something down, but Lilly kind of doubted she was really taking notes. Hannah had never done school. The way she'd blown it off had made Lilly realize she didn't have to either.

This world was crazy and it sucked, but Lilly had to admit some things made more sense now.

She'd never understood why Hannah had wanted to be friends with her. She'd never understood that day at the beach, Hannah talking like she knew Lilly. She'd never understood the months that followed, Hannah bending over backwards to give Lilly whatever she wanted. She hadn't thought there was any way it could last, because there wasn't any reason for it to. There wasn't any reason for it to happen at all, for the biggest popstar in the world to suddenly decide that some random girl she met on the beach was her BFF.

But it made sense now. Hannah had gotten pulled into Lilly's world a year and a half ago and gone looking for her best friend.

So Lilly hadn't been a pet project or a charity case or a bet, or any of the other explanations Lilly had come up with during those months. She'd been a substitute.

She'd always thought...she'd never let herself believe anything Hannah said. Celebrities didn't pluck their friends from the general population. Stars didn't just like you for no reason. People didn't just like you. You had to work at it. You had to be what they wanted or you were nothing.

Lilly had always assumed that Hannah was like everyone else, that she was friends with Lilly because it got her something, even if Lilly hadn't been able to figure out what that something was. And once Hannah got that something, that would be it.

End it first, that was what she'd thought. Get out on her terms before the other shoe dropped, before Hannah pulled the carpet out from under her and moved on to the next flavor of the week.

But Hannah wouldn't have. Because it hadn't been random. All Hannah had wanted was to have her friend back. She hadn't been planning to dump Lilly. She would have kept giving Lilly things, she would have kept trying to be Lilly's friend, if Lilly hadn't...

Maybe. Maybe she would have. But maybe Hannah hadn't liked her after all. Maybe she hadn't even thought of Lilly as a replacement, just a cheap imitation, one she would have gotten tired of.

Lilly moved in her seat, uncrossed her legs, recrossed them, stopped thinking about it.

The wig thing. That made sense now too. Hannah must have thought it would work because evidently it did here.

Looking at Miley, it was a little weird to see Hannah's face with brown hair. But not so weird that Lilly had any trouble recognizing her. And it wasn't like there weren't pictures around of Hannah when she was a kid, back before she'd gone blonde. It had taken Lilly, what, two minutes to realize who Hannah was when she'd pulled the wig stunt?

Only someone from this world could have thought wearing a wig would change who she was.

"Miss Truscott?"

Lilly jumped. Everyone was staring at her. Ms. Collins had spoken, her voice severe. Lilly lifted her chin, easily sliding on an arrogant, uncaring attitude. "What?" she demanded.

"Do you think you can tear your eyes away from the back of Miss Stewart's head and pay attention long enough to answer my question?" Collins asked.

The class giggled and Lilly's cheeks burned in spite of herself. She hated being laughed at. "No," she said. "Do you think you could make your class less boring? Maybe then I wouldn't have to watch Miley's hair grow instead."

The class was outright laughing now, but not at Lilly. Lilly glanced around in satisfaction and her eyes caught with Ashley's. The girl was laughing and Lilly smiled at her, just a little, and Ashley started to smile back. Then she seemed to remember herself. She stopped laughing and looked away.

"See me after class, Lilly," Collins said, thin-lipped.

"Whatever," Lilly muttered. She dropped her eyes to the blank paper on her desk, smarting over Ashley's slight. Just for a second they'd connected. Just for a second it had been like normal. She kind of missed Ashley. She wished she could talk to her, tell her what was going on. Lilly had never been stupid enough to tell Amber her secrets. Amber was the type of friend who used things against you. But Ashley...

She didn't notice the rest of class passing and waited until the other students had filed from the room before slowly approaching Collins's desk.

"Have you suddenly been possessed by a desire for detention, Miss Truscott?"

Detention. That meant a phone call home. Another fight with her mother. No Hannah concert. And no matter what Lilly had said to Heather that morning, she did care about getting to go to the concert. She'd had plenty of time since then to cool down and realize how important the concert would be. She needed to be seen with Hannah. She needed to get her picture taken and start networking Hannah's friends.

So she'd have to suck up. She might as well get used to it. She'd probably be doing it a lot over the next few months.

"No," she said. "Sorry. I didn't mean it. I...haven't been sleeping well."

"First Miley and now you?" Lilly raised an eyebrow. She had no clue what the woman was talking about. "Ms. Kunkle told me about the incident in her class," Collins explained, and yeah, that really cleared things up.

"Sorry," she repeated, almost gritting her teeth. She shouldn't have to apologize. She shouldn't have to be here.

"Don't let it happen again," Collins said. "Get some sleep."

Miley was waiting for her outside the classroom. Lilly hid her surprise.

"Trouble?" Miley asked.

"No. I fixed it."

"Good. That's...I was thinking, we probably don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves. We don't really want people to start asking question about why we're acting differently."

Suck up, Lilly reminded herself. To Miley most of all. "Yeah," she said. "I'll be more careful. This world is just so...irritating you know?" She could feel her frustration at it building up, pressing on the inside of her chest.

"Yeah. I do know," said Miley, rueful, and Lilly was surprised again, because somehow it helped to know that Miley did understand, that someone did, that there was someone who hated this place as much as she did. Somehow it eased the pressure. "You ready for lunch?"

"Depends on what they're serving," Lilly grumbled. Miley's smile grew almost into a laugh and they went down the hall towards the cafeteria.

———————————————

Lunch was not much better than yesterday. There were fish sticks, and macaroni and cheese that clumped together, and the kind of canned fruit salad where all the fruit had turned to mush and everything tasted like the thin, sugary syrup that covered it. It was hard going from her own personal chef to this. She missed Pierre.

Oliver didn't seem to have any problems with it, digging in while he quizzed them non-stop about what had happened last night when they were home and this morning in the classes they didn't share. Hannah forced herself to eat – it wasn't too bad if she swallowed quickly and tried not to taste anything – and reassured him that no, no one suspected there was anything strange going on. Lilly poked at her food and gave one-word answers to Oliver's questions, not eating anything except a few bites of the fruit.

"Okay," Oliver said, finally satisfied that they hadn't spilled the Hannah secret during Geometry or something. "Miley, you have a concert tonight in San Diego."

"I know, Robby Ray told me this morning. He's picking me up right after school."

"Good. Lilly, you're going with her."

Lilly rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know. My mom was being a total bitch this morning and threatened to make me stay home."

"Do you guys think you'll be okay or do I need to go too?" Oliver asked. "Maybe I should go."

"God, no, we'll be fine," Lilly said, at the same time Hannah said, "I think I know how to give a concert." It wasn't like she was some amateur. But she did have a few questions about how this whole disguise thing worked. "So, does Hannah have an apartment or something?"

"An apartment?" Oliver stared at her blankly. "Why would she have an apartment?"

"Somewhere to put all of her stuff?" Hannah said. "Clothes? The wig? And wouldn't Miley need to have somewhere she could say Hannah lived?"

"What for?"

What did he mean, what for? Hannah had to live somewhere. People would notice if she didn't. "Don't people sell maps to celebrities' homes here?"

"Yeah."

"And what about paparazzi?" Lilly put in.

"What about them?"

Hannah looked at Lilly, who rolled her eyes again. "Don't they stalk celebrities? Wait outside their houses sometimes?"

"Sure," Oliver said. "So?"

"So aren't there people wondering where the hell Hannah lives?" Hannah asked in exasperation.

"I don't know." Oliver looked confused, then shrugged. "I never thought about it. I guess it's never come up."

It had never come up. And Miley put on a wig and no one recognized her. This world was so freaking weird. "What about her clothes and stuff?" Miley had to have more than what was in her room. Hannah had seen some of the outfits Miley wore as Hannah online and none of them were in her room at home.

"The clothes are all at the house," Oliver said.

"No, they aren't."

"Yeah, they are. They're in the closet."

"What closet?" They weren't in Miley's closet. Practically nothing was in Miley's closet.

"The Hannah closet. In Miley's room." He laughed a little. "Sorry. I forgot you wouldn't know. There's a door in the back of her closet that goes to another one. All the Hannah stuff is in there."

So her closet wasn't gone, just hidden. It was stupid, but she felt better knowing that. That closet was basically the whole reason they'd bought the house.

"Most of Lola's is in there too."

"Who's Lola?" Lilly asked.

"You are. You've got a wig, too. Actually, you have like ten of them. All different colors. They kind of make your head look like a lollipop, if you want to know the truth."

"You can't be serious," Lilly said, clearly not happy. "That's ridiculous. Who the hell thought of that idea?"

"You did. Because that way no one will know that you're Hannah's best friend."

"But why wouldn't she want – never mind," Lilly said. Her voice dropped so low Hannah could barely hear it and she knew Oliver couldn't. "I do not understand these people. They are such freaks."

Seriously, Hannah thought. How did they even come up with this stuff? "Okay," she said. "I just have one question."

"What?"

"How do we put on the wigs?"

Oliver stared at her for a beat. "Yeah," he said. "I'm totally going with you guys."

———————————————

Another bobby pin gouged into Hannah's scalp. "Ow!" she yelped. "What was the point in you coming if you don't know how to do this?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Oliver said, but he didn't sound sorry. Not how people normally did when Hannah complained about something. They always gushed apologies and scrambled to fix things. Oliver made it sound like the pain Hannah was in was her own fault and then he jabbed another bobby pin into her head. "This is girl stuff. Usually Lilly helps you."

Usually Lilly helps Miley, Hannah thought. She pushed his hands away. "Stop. Let me try. I can't do any worse than you."

"I could have told you not to let him near your head," Lilly said, emerging from the depths of Miley's Hannah closet with her arms full of clothes. There were a couple pairs of shoes balanced on top of the pile. "I'm still traumatized from the time he tried to give me a haircut. "

"Hey, I was four!" Oliver said.

"I know, and you came half an inch from poking out my left eye because you didn't know how to use scissors!" Lilly retorted.

"I did not!" Oliver protested. "It was at least an inch! "

"Uh, no, it wasn't, do I need to show you the scar from where you – "

"You remember that?" Hannah asked.

They looked at her, perplexed. "What?" Oliver said.

"You remember that?" she repeated. "Both of you. You both remember the exact same thing?"

"Oh," Oliver said, catching on. "I don't know, I..." He turned to Lilly. "We were at your house. It was almost Christmas and your mom was showing us how to cut out paper snowflakes."

Lilly nodded. "And then Ben came in covered in mud and Mom took him outside to spray him off with the hose because she'd just mopped the kitchen floor that morning."

"And while she was out there we decided your hair would look so much cooler if it was a snowflake too..."

"You do remember the same thing," Hannah said. "So not everything here is different. Not everything happened differently." Just all the important things.

"I wonder how far it goes," Oliver said. "You know? Like, was everything the same for a long time, or is there just that one thing that happened in both universes?"

"It had to be everything," Lilly said. "Or at least most things. Because I doubt if there was going to be one thing that happened in both of our universes it would be Oliver giving me the worst haircut known to man."

"It totally was not!" Oliver said. "Come on, you've seen the pictures of my mom from the 80s."

Lilly rolled her eyes but smiled a little. "Yeah, okay. Second worst haircut."

"Fourth worst. Maybe even fifth."

"All right," Hannah said. "So things were the same when you were younger." She wished they would focus. She didn't much care to hear them rehash a history she didn't share. And their bickering reminded her of the way she and Jackson used to act.

"But you never met us," Oliver said. "So things had to be different by the time you moved here."

"When was that?" Lilly asked.

"Seventh grade," said Oliver. "Miley moved here that summer."

That was the same too, Hannah thought. They'd moved to Malibu the summer before she turned thirteen. She would have been in seventh grade if she hadn't homeschooled. With Candice.

Maybe public school wouldn't have been such a bad idea.

"So sometime between when we were four and twelve," Lilly said. "Great. That really narrows it down." She tossed the pile of clothes into an empty chair. "Can I borrow these?"

Hannah shrugged. She didn't care. They weren't her clothes.

"Lola can," Oliver instructed. "Lilly can't."

"I wasn't asking you," Lilly sneered.

"I don't care," he said, staring her down. "A lot of Hannah's stuff is one of a kind. Lilly can't be seen wearing it."

Hannah let them argue it out and went back to the problem of the wig. It wasn't too complicated. She'd gotten her own hair pinned up and the wig cap on before Oliver had taken over, and now she thought it just needed a few more pins.

Oliver's phone rang just as she put in the last one and shook her head, tossing it around to make sure the wig would stay in place. Oliver groaned when he got off the phone. "That was my mom. She got tonight off and now she wants me to come home and watch my brother so she and my dad can go out."

Good, Hannah thought, relieved. He would look over her shoulder the whole night if he came, and pick at everything she did. She didn't want him pointing out everything she did differently from Miley, not tonight when she was finally doing something normal. "Go ahead. We'll be fine."

"Yeah, we got it, Oliver," Lilly said. Hannah thought she was relieved too.

Oliver obviously wasn't. "Okay, but...call me if there are any problems. And call me when you get back. I want to know everything that happens."

"Whatever," Lilly said, dismissing him to riffle through the clothes she'd piled on the chair and holding a shirt up to herself experimentally.

After a second, Oliver left, and Hannah put him out of her mind. She studied herself in the mirror, running a finger along the edge of the wig, trying to determine if it was still on straight. Oliver had jabbed her scalp with bobby pins so many times her whole head hurt, but she didn't care. She finally looked like herself again.

———————————————

The limo ride was perfect, and so was the dressing room. They'd put her name on the door. Hannah. She went up to the stage with Robby Ray and Lilly just to look it over, and it was exactly the same as it had been every time she'd played this place back home. The back-up dancers were there, excited to see her, and they all called her Hannah. It was unbelievable how amazing that felt.

"What do you think about doing a quick run-through, bud?" Robby Ray asked. "I know you all just did this a couple nights ago, but I think everyone could use a warm-up. You wanna start with True Friend?"

Hannah could have kicked herself. She'd been so focused on how good everything felt: the limo, the stadium, her clothes and hair. She'd felt so confident coming here to perform, like she was back on solid ground, that she'd forgotten the way this world took everything familiar and twisted it, forgotten to watch for the inevitable difference this universe insisted on.

Like the fact that she'd never heard of a song called True Friend.

Shit.

She blinked at Robby Ray and drew in a breath. All right, she told herself. Don't panic. She hadn't panicked when she'd had to learn how to manage her own career. She hadn't panicked when she woke up in another universe. She certainly wasn't going to panic just because she didn't know the words to some song, even if this was supposed to be the one place in this universe she knew what she was doing. She could handle this. She could handle everything.

"That sounds great," she said, forcing a smile. "Just perfect, and I really want to rehearse, it's just..." She looked around, then ran over to where Lilly was standing in the wings messing around on her phone. "It's just that Lilly is really craving one of those spinach patch salads from Delicias." Crap. Did Delicias exist in this world?

"Huh?" Lilly said.

"Just play along," Hannah hissed at her, grabbing her arm and towing her over to Robby Ray, whose face was a study in disbelief.

"Lilly," he said. "Is craving a salad?"

"Yeah," Lilly said, nodding seriously. "They're really good, and they only use organic ingredients."

Robby Ray remained unconvinced, so Hannah motioned to him, leaned in and whispered in his ear. "It's kind of a, you know, female issue."

Robby Ray's head bobbed up and down and he began backing away hastily. "Gotcha. Say no more. Really. Don't. I'll be back in a jiffy." He paused. "Do I, ah...should I get some chocolate too?"

Hannah shrugged. "Couldn't hurt." That should give her enough time.

"That was easy," Lilly said when he was gone.

Didn't take much the first time, either, Hannah thought. "Yeah. Thanks. Now I just need to go pull True Friend and anything else I've never heard of and replace them with other songs an hour before the concert starts. Piece of cake."

"You've never..." Lilly stopped and shook her head. "Never mind."

Hannah cocked her head at the other girl, but she didn't have time to ask. She flashed a blank smile at her instead and turned back to dancers. "Okay, guys," she announced, raising her voice to make sure they all heard. "We're going to make a couple changes."

———————————————

Lilly remembered the first time she'd heard Hannah sing True Friend. It had been a concert just like this and she'd been backstage, just like this. Right before Hannah had gone on, she'd pulled Lilly aside and shyly said that she was singing a new song, that it Lilly's, and that she hoped Lilly liked it.

And then she'd gone out and sung True Friend and Lilly had stood there, knowing that when Hannah asked she would say she loved it, but really all Lilly had been able to think was, But you don't even know me.

She'd been right. Hannah hadn't known her and she hadn't known Hannah. They'd both mistaken the other for someone else.

Miley was showing two of the back-up dancers a series of steps. Lilly went back to the dressing room. She had about twenty angry voicemails on her phone from her mother. If she didn't call back soon she would probably be stuck in her room until she found a way back to her own universe.

Heather answered with, "Lilly? Where are you?" No mistaking that tone. Time for damage control.

"San Diego. With Miley."

"Lilly! You know you were supposed to come home first. You can't just run off to do whatever you want. I called you six times and you didn't call back, I was getting worried."

"I'm calling now." Okay, so she'd never been very good with damage control.

"That's not good enough, Lilly. And we still haven't finished our discussion from earlier."

Why did her mom always have to make such a big deal out of everything? Why couldn't she ever let anything go? "The concert's about to start. I have to go."

"We're going to talk about this later," Heather warned.

Whatever. She always wanted to talk. Like talking ever made anything better. You had to go out and make things better for yourself. Which was exactly what she intended to do. "Bye, mom."

She hung up and went to watch the concert. And no matter what happened, if Miley asked, Lilly would say that she'd loved it.

———————————————

It made Hannah's blood sing. After two long, disturbing, disorienting days, here she was in her element. She knew exactly what to do, every word, every note, everything right. Well. Mostly.

There was the wig, her head covered in sweat and itching under it, and every time she moved she worried that she could feel it slipping.

There were the back-up dancers. They were out of synch with her, forgetting moves on the songs she'd thrown at them an hour ago, and the choreography was different than she was expecting on the ones she hadn't. She was able to catch on fast enough to avoid crashing into any of them, but she knew it had to look sloppy.

The fans didn't seem to notice; they screamed the same as always. But Hannah was angry with herself for not thinking of this, for not realizing that nothing would be the same. She should have thought of it, should have insisted on taking the day off school to rehearse.

And then there was Robby Ray, who stood in the wings watching. She could feel his disapproval from the stage, and every time she left it for a costume change he tried to speak to her. She brushed him off and changed in the dressing room with its half-eaten spinach salad, checking her wig in the mirror every time.

Then she went back out, turned her helpless anger into energy, poured it out to the fans who responded by cheering harder. But even with their screams ringing in her ears, comforting, normal, she couldn't forget how she hated this place, how it couldn't let her have even this.

———————————————

If the alternative hadn't been staying at home with her mother, Lilly would've started wondering if coming to this thing was even worth it. No one of any importance had shown up and even if they had, they all would have thought her name was Lola and she had bright blue hair.

But then the concert ended and a familiar, nasal whine came from the doorway of Miley's dressing room. "Han-n-n-ahhh!" Traci. Perfect. Traci had loved her and she was crazy connected. Being on her good side was like having an open invitation to every event in Hollywood. And she could always ditch the wig and fake name later.

She and Hannah embraced each other and air-kissed each other's cheeks. "Hi, Traci."

"Traci, hi," Lilly gushed, moving across the room, ready to do the same. "It's so awesome you came!"

The look on Traci's face stopped her in her tracks. "Lola. Was I talking to you?" She turned to Miley. "I still don't understand what you see in her. But you were fabulous as always, darling. I just came by to tell you that and make sure you don't forget about my benefit tomorrow. It's – " She shot an unmistakably venomous look at Lilly. " – invitation only."

She kissed Miley's cheeks again and whirled out of the room without another word.

"Wow," Miley said. "She really doesn't like you."

Lilly sat down hard on the chair in front of the vanity. Traci hated Lilly. Amber and Ashley hated Lilly. Lilly hated Lilly.

Amber and Ashley didn't matter. She'd be out of high school soon enough, and after that they wouldn't matter. She might even be better off without them. Amber had always been hitting her up for cash. And so what if she missed Ashley? Lilly had missed people before. She'd get over it.

Traci was the real blow. She knew everyone and no one wanted to piss off her daddy. She could get people – lots of people, famous people – to go to a birthday party for her freaking cat. When Lilly turned thirteen, Oliver was the only one who showed up.

She wanted out of here. She didn't even mean this universe. Just this place in her life. She'd clawed her way out of it once. It wasn't fair to make her do it again.

But she would. "It's all right," she told Miley, thinking, She will.

———————————————

The aftermath of the concert was gloriously routine. It was like a balm after the mis-steps of the concert and Hannah bathed in it, soaked up the fans' cheers and signed autographs until her hand hurt the way it did after every concert. In those few minutes she almost could have forgotten she wasn't back home if not for Robby Ray's brooding presence at her shoulder, the difference this world always forced on everything, not letting her forget for even a moment. She ignored him the best she could and he let her get away with it until they were all in the limo pulling back on the highway.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" Robby Ray asked.

Hannah played innocent. "What?"

"You know what. You pulled some of the songs, changed choreography...half the time your back-up dancers didn't know what was going on."

"I just felt like mixing things up a little." It hadn't been her fault they couldn't keep up.

"You should have talked to me about it first. You don't just go changing things whenever you want, it leads to situations like this. It's unprofessional."

Unprofessional. He was going to call her unprofessional? He was the one who had left on a honeymoon and basically never come back, leaving her without a manager.

Except, of course, he hadn't. He was still here. And Hannah didn't know why. "Sorry," she said sullenly. Was it only because he hadn't met Candice here? Or was it because he cared for Miley more than her father cared for her? Why was Jackson still around? Was Miley somehow better than she was, and so hadn't driven Jackson away?

Robby Ray sighed. "Look, Mile, we can work out something new if you're tired of this routine. But you need to let me know so I can take care of it. You need to let me do my job."

Hannah almost gave in, apologized again. But then she thought, For how long? How long in this world before he was gone and Miley was in the same situation she'd been? She raised her chin and met his eyes. "It's my job. This is my career. I get to decide how it goes."

"I'm not disputing that, darlin'," Robby Ray said, taken aback. "But you need to let me handle the details like this. That's why I'm here."

"I can handle it."

"I'm not disputing that either, but look what happened tonight." Tonight had been fine. She'd killed. No one in the audience had even noticed the slip-ups. She thought she'd done a pretty good job considering she was in a completely different freaking universe. A professional job. "Mile, I know you like to go into things full speed ahead without thinking about how it could end up, but one of these days you're going to bite off more than you can chew. You need to learn to stop and think things through before you mess up something more important than a concert."

She couldn't believe he had the nerve to lecture her about thinking things through when she knew that given half a chance he would take off across the world without thinking of anything. And she was angry that he was making her about her father this way. Because she was fine with her relationship with her father. Really, she was. She was fifteen, she didn't need her daddy to babysit her anymore. He'd gotten her started in this business and helped her climb to the top, and now he had his own life. That was fair. He'd given up his career to spend more time with his kids, but she couldn't expect him to keep sacrificing forever.

So she was fine with how things were. She really was. And she didn't need this universe, this man, showing her how things could be different, making her want things she didn't need and couldn't have.

"Fine. I'll work with – " Who was her choreographer here? " – the choreographer before the next show and get everything worked out."

Robby Ray nodded. "All right, if that's what you want. I'll call and set up some time for you."

"I can do it."

"Miley, what is wro—" Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah saw Lilly stiffen. She'd forgotten the other girl was in the car or she wouldn't have fought with Robby Ray in front of her.

"Nothing," Hannah said quickly. "Fine. Never mind. You call. Just tell me when and where."

"It'll have to be after next week." Next week was too late. Please let next week be too late. "You and Lilly've got that science project to finish this weekend and then you have that history test next Thursday. Hannah will have to be on hold until then. You need at least a B."

On hold. What did that mean? He couldn't mean she wouldn't get to do anything, that she wouldn't get to perform at all. She'd go crazy with nothing but the pointlessness of school to fill her time. "I can do both." She'd fail the history test anyway, if she was still here. She hadn't looked at a textbook in two years, and history had never been her best subject. All those names and dates. Who cared?

"You sure can," Robby Ray said. "You can do the Hannah stuff right after you get a B on your test. That was our deal."

She didn't have a deal with him. She didn't make deals. She signed contracts.

Robby Ray's phone rang and Hannah was grateful when he checked the display, held up a finger, and took the call. She moved from her seat next to him and took one on the other side of the limo by Lilly.

Lilly gave her a sympathetic look and Hannah smiled tightly. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to drag you into my business." Hannah let her face and voice make it clear that this was in fact her business, and it should stay that way.

"No problem," Lilly said, everything about her oozing casualness, like she hadn't understood Hannah's message, even though Hannah was quite sure she had. "It's not like I get along with my parents either. You should hear some of the blowouts I have with my mom."

Hannah relaxed a little, though she still didn't know what to make of the other girl. She might come from Hannah's world but she was as much of an unknown as the whole of this one. And she was strange. Lilly had said they'd met at a concert, but she didn't act like any fan Hannah had ever met. She hadn't seemed excited about this concert, either, or being backstage.

Then Hannah almost laughed at herself. Lilly was probably a little too preoccupied with the fact that she was in another universe to care that she got to hang out with Hannah Montana. What was it she'd said this morning? Her parents were divorced. Hannah wondered what else was different for her here, what pieces of her life she was missing.

They were stuck in this together. That had to mean something. Hannah glanced over at Robby Ray and found him watching them steadily as he spoke into the phone, his face troubled. "Can you believe I can't be a popstar again until I get a B on a history test?" she whispered to Lilly. "I think we landed in the universe where everyone is freaking insane."

Lilly snorted a laugh and then looked horrified at herself, which made Hannah laugh. "Seriously," Lilly said, recovering. They locked eyes and laughed again, the only two people in the world who were in on the joke, and Hannah found that even though she didn't know this girl, she was glad there was someone here to share this.

———————————————

Jackson was playing a video game on the couch when they got home. "What're you playing?" Hannah asked, flopping down next to him and sliding some of the bobby pins out of the wig. She hated that thing. It itched like crazy and made her head sweat, and the whole idea, the whole double identity thing, was stupid anyway. She'd spent half the concert worried the wig would fall off and she'd be exposed, and she still didn't see why Miley didn't just tell everyone she was Hannah and be done with it.

"What do you care?" Jackson scoffed, not taking his eyes off the television.

Hannah froze a second, tense, then pulled a few more bobby pins free. "Sorry. I was just asking." She winced as the last bobby pin scraped along skin sensitive from Oliver's earlier help, but then it was out and the wig came off. She tossed it on the coffee table in relief and peeled off the wig cap.

"Jackson," Robby Ray said, coming in and hanging up his phone. Thankfully, he'd stayed on that call the rest of the way back. "That producer I want for Miley's next album is coming in from New York for the weekend and I have to go into LA all day tomorrow to meet with him. I'm gonna need you to drive your sister to Traci's benefit."

"No!" Jackson howled. "No, no, no, no, no! Dad, you always do this! I've got tickets to the Bruins game tomorrow. I've been looking forward to this for two weeks, you can't expect me to drop everything just because – "

"Now, son, you know your sister has things she has to do," Robby Ray started.

Nerves squeezed at Hannah. She'd heard her father say things like that before, back in her own universe. Putting her needs ahead of Jackson's because hers played out on such a larger scale. And six months later, Jackson was gone. "Jackson doesn't have to drive me," she said.

They both stared at her. "He doesn't?" Robby Ray said.

"I don't?" Jackson asked.

"No," Hannah said. She starting pulling out the pins holding her hair up and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I'll – " She was about to say she'd hire a car, but then she remembered she didn't have any money. Who ever heard of a millionaire with an allowance? Everything about this universe was ridiculous. "I just won't go. There'll be other benefits."

Neither one of them seemed to be able to stop staring at her. She yanked the rest of the pins out, shaking her hair free with what would have been relief if she wasn't still so worried about Jackson getting upset. "What?" she asked, because they were still staring, mouths open. "It's not like I haven't been to these things of Traci's before, and it's not fair to make Jackson cancel his plans just to drive me around. Especially since he already bought tickets." She'd been to tons of them, and they never really benefited anyone, anyway. They were just an excuse to see and be seen.

"You've been to these things before," Jackson said faintly.

"It's not fair to make Jackson...," Robby Ray said, sounding like he couldn't believe he'd heard her correctly.

"So you just won't go," Jackson finished.

"Right," Hannah said. Jackson looked so shocked that she added, "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" Jackson said in disbelief.

"Miley, are you sure about this?" Robby Ray asked. "You gave him gas money this morning, the least he can do is – "

"He doesn't have to pay me back for that," Hannah broke in hurriedly, glancing at Jackson to make sure he wasn't getting upset again. "I'm sure." Jackson looked okay. Stunned still, but not upset or angry. "Hey, maybe...maybe I could go to the game with you."

The words came out of her mouth when the idea of it had only half-formed in her mind and she regretted them instantly as the surprise on Jackson's face was replaced with disgust. "No way, I'm not taking my little sister to a football game!" The words awful and annoying were implied by the way he said little sister. So maybe this wasn't a world where she didn't drive him away no matter what she did. Maybe a world like that didn't exist. "You don't even like football!"

"Jackson," Robby Ray warned.

"No, it's okay," Hannah said. She didn't feel worried anymore, just defeated, and very tired. "I think I'll go take a shower." She climbed the stairs slowly, the wig and wig cap dangling from one hand, bobby pins clutched in the other. She didn't let herself think about anything in the shower except how good the hot water felt washing the sweat from her skin and itch from her scalp.

The knock on her bedroom door came after she had put pajamas on and was trying to pull a comb through hair that really was just too long. She gave up on it and answered the door.

"Hey," Jackson said, looking uncomfortable.

"Hey," Hannah said, trying to figure out what was wrong this time. Did he need more money, maybe for the game tomorrow? She didn't think she had much left, but he could have it. "Do you need something?"

Jackson's mouth opened and shut a couple times before he got any words out. "No. I talked to dad."

"Oh." Hannah went and sat on the bed, taking up the comb again and attacking a section of her hair. "About what?"

Jackson hesitated a minute, then came over and sat next to her. "About...he said that you probably didn't want to go to the game with me because you suddenly like football."

"No," Hannah said.

"Miles, can I...why did you do that? Say I don't have to drive you? And why did you give me that money this morning?"

Hannah shrugged, tugged the comb through a tangle. "I had it and you needed it. It's not like I'm really going to miss twenty dollars." Even if she was on a budget.

"I know," Jackson said. "But usually you don't...I mean, you never..."

Hannah put the comb down. She wanted to tell him that it was different now, she was different, she was sorry, and that if she had another chance she would take more care with him. But she didn't have another chance. She could go home tomorrow and everything would be back to normal. So she tried to explain the best she could when she couldn't really tell him anything.

"I know, it's just...You never know. Everything could be fine, you could think everything's fine, and then the next day people are gone and it isn't anymore. So I just wanted to do something to make sure things are okay for you."

They sat in silence a minute before Jackson spoke. "I think about her a lot, too."

Hannah looked up, followed his gaze to the picture of their mother on the bedside table. Oh. "Yeah," Hannah said, even though she didn't. She tried not to. She tried not to think about her mother, or Jackson, or her father, about how they'd all left, about how alone she was.

"So do you really want to go to the game with me?" Jackson asked.

"It's okay," Hannah said. "I know you'd rather go with your friends. I just thought...I just wanted to spend some time with you." Especially since she didn't know how much time she had here, if after tonight she'd ever get to spend any time with him at all.

"Well, I was just gonna go with Thor," Jackson said. "And, you know, I've been to football games with Thor before." He smiled at her. "I could probably stand to take my little sister to one instead."

"Yeah?" Hannah said, smiling back. She wanted to hug him. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten to hug her brother. But she held back, wondering how strange he'd think it. "Hey, do you think you could teach me about the game while we're there?"

"Of course I can," he said, looking so proud to have been asked that she thought, Forget it, and almost tackled him into a hug.

He grunted in surprise and then wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged back. "I can't wait," she told him, meaning it, because here was something that was worth the time she had to spend here. It wasn't another chance. But it was something. Something more than she'd had before.

"You can be so weird sometimes, Miley. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know," she said, and she'd gone to bed last night wishing as hard as she could that she would wake up in her own universe. Tonight she'd be wishing she wouldn't.

———————————————

Sooo, yeah. I'd like to say the next chapter will be up Thursday, but probably Friday is more realistic. Or Sunday. Ish. (I know. I am so slack.)

Mascot Love was on last night. I miss season one. Season three seriously needs to stop sucking balls. Although the summary for the next episode does sound like the gayest thing ever, so maybe it will redeem itself. Yeah, probably not.