A/N: Sorry for leaving you guys hanging in that last one. That was a bad way to kill a chapter. And this one isn't much softer. I'm going to try and make the next one happy, though. They all deserve a little happiness once in a while, right? Especially considering I'm torturing them with emotions and consequences.

Hoh: I'm sorry for the confusion...It ends up being a Liley. To everyone who needed to know, THIS IS A LILEY STORY. It just takes a while to progress to that point. I'd say you'll see the first signs of it in Chapter 6. I have to write one more chapter where they prepare for the concert, just an example of how they prepare and what the run-through is.

lil-ying-fa: Lilly couldn't cut herself. I won't let her. I had to throw that in there, though, because it provokes emotional instability on her part. It all plays in, trust me.

Alright, go ahead and read now. I know you're dying to anyways.


Miley jolted awake. She blinked irritably under the light from the bathroom, stretching slowly to pop her neck and back. Sleeping in the bathroom probably wasn't the most comfortable way to go. Why was she in there, anyways?

Then she remembered, mid-stretch, arms reached high over her head. Lilly.

She skittered to the trashcan on all fours, gazing into it. The blade was still there. It glinted evilly in the light. Miley fought back tears.

Lilly almost died because of me...

She let a tear fall into the can, where it pinged on the blade. She watched it roll down the edge of the razor, but it was no longer a tear-drop, it was a blood drop. Lilly's blood. Red and angry, her life dripping away, wasting away in front of her eyes. Miley was horrified. She had no idea that Lilly was a cutter. She had to help her friend. There was no way Miley was going to give Lilly up for dead so easily.

She stood shakily, fighting the urge to let her knees buckle. She stumbled from the bathroom, blinking blearily in the darkness. The clock on the nightstand was a blur with the tears in her eyes, the light from behind her clicking out as she flicked the switch off, plunging the room into total darkness. Miley tripped over her clothes again and landed on the bed, the clock gazing her in the face.

Four twenty-four in the morning. She sighed. She had essentially gotten twelve hours of sleep, yet she still looked very tired. She felt tired. Dead-tired. She mentally slapped herself. She would not die. Neither would Lilly. She would protect their lives to the end.

But what of Kitten?

She decided that he could most likely care for himself and defend that which he should defend, that which he could defend on his own. He was so independent, so strong. It was like he oozed power and happiness. Yeah, she had it bad for him. Then why was it if she was so happy, so appreciated and loved, that she felt guilty?

Lilly, perhaps?

Was Lilly really a factor in this equation? Was it a love-triangle between them? But what role would Lilly play in a love-triangle where the couple happened to be in love? And how was it even feasibly possible that she would be angry or upset

Or jealous?

Jealous? Of what? She couldn't be. There was nothing to be jealous of. She had specifically told Miley to go talk to him and tell her how she felt. So she couldn't be jealous of Miley for having confessed, right? But then...was Lilly jealous of Kitten?

She loves you.

The thought scared the brunette. She jumped out of the bed and threw her clothes on hastily, not bothering to brush the wrinkles away or the tangles from her hair. Lilly's pajamas ended up on the floor in a heap, a heap from which Miley backed away slowly. Lilly couldn't be jealous. Period. Because she could only be jealous of Kitten. And if she was jealous of Kitten, then that meant that she was in love with Miley. Ludicrous!

That's insane! She can't be in love with me...can she?

Now Miley was torn. She wasn't sure whether or not she could come to terms with her friend's possible affection toward her. It wouldn't make sense. It would be totally opposite of everything she had ever learned as a child, that same-sex couples didn't work. They were frowned upon.

But the more Miley thought about it as she tiptoed cautiously down the dark hallway, the more open to the idea she was. She liked Kitten because he was absolutely amazing in her eyes, but she had known Lilly longer and knew more about her. Kitten was so guarded to the outside world that he could be a total stranger for all she knew. And Lilly...was her best friend. They clicked. They were constantly balancing each other out, like Yin and Yang, or hot and cold, on or off.

Gah, so confusing. I have to talk to Lilly.

She strode to the elevator and pushed the button to go to the board-room. She had a hunch that she would be found in there.

(time lapse backwards)

"You and I got a problem, dude," Lilly said loudly. Kitten turned around to see her standing on the far end of the table behind him, while he had been staring at the clock while standing in front of his seat. He blinked at her and then smiled.

"Ah, Lilly. Nice to see you're up so early. It's only three in the morning, you know."

"Fuck you."

He raised an eyebrow, the smile faltering a bit.

"You...you're a fucking asshole, you know that?"

"Well, that's one way to say good morning, I suppose. What seems to be the matter?"

"You."

"We've established this," he said with a light chuckle. "What about me?"

"Miley."

Both of his eyebrows lifted. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"I saw you both last night. You kissed her."

The accusing tone in her voice seemed mildly humorous to him, even though she was angry and serious. "I take it you disapprove?"

"Highly."

"And why is that?"

"I'm not going to explain it to you."

"Then would you like this discussion to be over?"

"No! I'm not done with you, you slimy, loathsome little wretch!"

He laughed. "Harsh words. Why are you angry, exactly?"

"You stole her from me."

"So now you're going to explain?"

"If you'd shut up, maybe I'd be able to tell you!"

He opened his mouth to say something, decided against it, and let it close. Lilly fumed for a moment before regaining her composure.

"Look. I don't know what it is that you've cast over Miley, but I don't like it. I hate that she's always more interested in spending time with you or asking your opinion over mine. It's been like this since we got here and I'm sick of it."

"So then why not tell her to snap out of it?"

"Because I don't want to hurt her."

"And I do?"

"Just...gah, what's the use. Maybe I have to make it clear some other way."

He waited. Finally, she made up her mind and strode up to him. She latched her hands onto his cheeks and dragged his head down to her eye level.

"I'm going to make this very clear for you, so pay attention."

He blinked, his silent motion for her to continue. She sighed.

"I don't know how she will take it if she ever finds out, but I don't have the nerve to tell her. I...I feel so stupid, and it would never work, but...Kitten...I love her."

Her words were like ice to his body. He felt limp and weak and numb. He reminded himself that he should have seen it coming, but it was still a shock to him. He swallowed and looked at her face. Her eyes were sad and dazed, as though she couldn't believe she was admitting it.

"A-are you sure?"

She nodded, chewing on her lip. He sighed.

"Lilly, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I can't even tell Miley. How am I supposed to say something like that to her when she's now proclaimed her love for you?"

"Because while we may love each other and love spending time together, we may not be in love with each other. She might see me as an addiction, but you're her best friend. You should tell her."

"But...but how? A-and when?"

He sighed, pulling his head free of her limp hands, which fell to her sides. He scratched the back of his head, thinking.

"I honestly don't know. I suppose you could do it at the concert or something."

"Of course! That would be perfect! But...I don't know how..."

"Lilly, if it means that much to you, I'll help you out. She won't know either. But I think that I'll hint to Miley to put True Friend down as the last song on the list so that you can make your announcement right before it."

She clapped her hands together and grinned. "That would be amazing!"

"I think it would. You don't have to kiss, just pledge your feelings to her or something. It would definitely boost the crowd's morale and you'd get to have her as yours."

"But...wait, that means you're giving her up! You can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"She'll be crushed, Kitten!"

"She'll understand. I'm not an idiot, Lilly. I can think for myself enough to know how to tell her that it would be best if we held off a bit until all this stress and pressure is gone or lessened. She may be upset at the suggestion of having to wait, but that just gives you the opportunity to move right in."

"Wow...you're good."

"Hey, hey, I'm not a heart-breaker. I'm just a peace-keeper. I don't like the idea of her being upset, and you'll be able to make her happier than I could any day."

"But...what will you do for happiness?"

"Hey, there's a whole world of people out there. Something will turn up. One way or another, it'll all be okay. Now, let's stop talking about such a dim subject and eat some food."

Lilly glanced over his left shoulder and noticed that there was a large plastic table erected in the corner laden with food and goodies. She gasped and almost began drooling. Kitten laughed.

"Go ahead and eat. I'm only going to end up calling everyone in here eventually."

He fell backwards and landed in his chair, which thankfully had some cushion on the seat and backing, though not enough for him to hide the slight wince of pain that crossed his face. Lilly, however, had food on her mind and paid no attention to him. Pancakes, bacon, eggs of scrambled, poached, and fried varieties, sausage, hashbrowns, fries, biscuits, muffins, toast both buttered and unbuttered, syrup, ketchup, butter, jam, everything. Everything that anyone could have ever wanted to eat for breakfast was there. Lilly grabbed a plate and filled it, not bothering to wait to sit at the table before digging in. She stumbled over and began scarfing while trying to put her butt in a chair. She was so hungry it amazed her she hadn't passed out.

Kitten gazed at his phone, something that was a work of art in itself: it was a single pane of glass and had an ultra-sensitive touchscreen response system. The gadget had no wires or visible computer chips of any kind within it and worked just like a hand-held computer. It was a technological marvel, and one that he had poured quite a pretty penny into to have constructed. He owned one of three, the other two belonging to the girls. They didn't need to know how much it had cost him to get ahold of three of them. That was better left alone.

Lilly belched and sighed. Kitten could make out four plates on the other side of his phone, all surrounding one very full Lilly as she leaned back slightly in her chair. He chuckled.

"Full?"

She nodded. He put his phone away and gathered her dishes, stacking them in a box underneath the table. They would be washed later by the dance-team, as they had been enlisted to help with cleanup for that day. It was non-obligation-based, but everyone wanted to pay Kitten back for making everything possible.

"So, Lilly. What are we going to do about your ring?"

"Oh, shit...I'm broke..." She nearly broke down crying. He laughed.

"Hey, hey, relax. It's not like I'd want to help you and not have connections or resources."

"Kitten, no. I can't. I want to pay for it myself."

"But you don't have a legitimate job."

She paused. "Yeah, I know," she mumbled sadly. "There goes the plan."

He laid his hand on hers comfortingly. "I'll take you out shopping. It's on me. I've got connections to a diamond company that can get you whatever you want, however you want, no matter how gaudy or petite it need be."

She smiled. "Kitten...I'm sorry for being angry before. I just...I was caught, you know?"

He flicked his hand a couple of times, waving off the apology. "Don't even let it bother you. I forgave you before you even started speaking."

She sighed. "It's just so hard, you know? Not being able to have the one you love...Hey, wait. How are you going to cope with this?"

"I'll be fine. Like I said, everything will be fine. It'll all go smoothly, and you'll be happy, and I'll be happy just knowing you. I'm actually blessed by your presence every day that passes by because it means that this is all real and it's all happening."

She sighed. "So cliché and sentimental, Kitten...you're easily pleased, aren't you?"

"Easily." He laughed. "Come on. We'll take my vehicle to the diamond shop. It's in Colorado, so you may want to hang on tight."

"Colorado? How are we going to get there?"

"Simple: my bike flies."

She smacked her forehead. "I should've at least remembered that much..."

He grinned. "Let's go. You'll like this place."

And with that, they trekked into the elevator and up to the bike.

(time lapse forward)

"Lilly?"

Miley looked around the board-room, half-past-four in the morning. She was nowhere to be seen, though there was a table on the far end of the room full of food. Miley couldn't help but rush over and grab some; she was insanely hungry. After loading a plate, she sat at her usual place and began devouring the food, which went surprisingly quickly. She placed the dirtied dish into the box below the table and turned just as the elevator opened.

Kitten got out and the doors shut immediately behind him. She smiled happily and skipped over to his cheerful figure. "Hey there," she teased, winking.

"Hey, yourself," he replied. She gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. His expression faltered a bit.

"What's wrong, Kitten?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing..."

She grabbed his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Miley...you're amazing."

"But...?"

He sighed. "I won't lie to you. I like you a lot. And I could even go so far as to say I love you."

She smiled. "I love you too."

"But...I don't think I'm in love with you."

"What? How...but...what about last night?"

"Last night, I felt something, I did. Something amazing, something unreal, unlike anything I've ever felt before. I longed for it to keep going, Miley."

"I did too," she said breathily, leaning forward. "We could do it again now, if you want."

"Actually...I would love it, but..."

"But?"

"But I think I'm going to have to politely decline."

She had a very confused look on her face. "So...you're saying no to a relationship?"

He nodded, looking glum. "I'm sorry, Miley. I have a lot on my plate and there's so much stress right now. I just don't think I could handle having to juggle it all and keeping up with you, too, and I don't want to disappoint you with the future."

"You could never disappoint me," she said stubbornly. He sighed, pulling her into a gentle embrace. She clung to him like a leaf on a tree.

"Miley, I love you. You're utterly amazing. For you to share feelings with me...it blows my mind, even though it's real."

"So then why can't we be together?"

"I can't, Miley. I think I love you, but I'm not in love with you. Not right now. Not yet."

She shook her head into his chest. "I thought you loved me..."

"I do love you, Miley. Don't ever forget that. I love you with all my heart?"

"Then why don't you want this?" she demanded, looking into his eyes angrily. He could see tears forming.

"I do want this. But I can't have it right now."

"Why not? We're both here, we love each other, why not have it now rather than later?"

"Because I...I think it's a little premature. I...I have a ton of stuff going on, and I know you do too, and I think it would be better if we held off until things got a little easier on us both."

She sighed. "So it's not a no?"

He nodded. "I'm not saying no, I'm saying not right now."

She clung to him tightly. "When?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"When all of this is over."

"But that could take years!"

"I'm willing to wait, whatever it takes. Are you?"

She inhaled shakily, then nodded into his chest. "It just hurts my heart, not being able to be with you."

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. He was giving up what he wanted so very badly for Lilly's best interest. For Lilly. Do it for Lilly. She needs Miley more than you do. He gulped and stroked her hair gently.

"I know. But there's so much going on that you'd hardly ever see me. And what if we fought while trying to get things back to normal? I don't think we'd be good cult mates if we did that halfway through the plan."

She nodded again. "I just...I really want this."

He kissed the top of her head. "I want it too, love, but something is telling me that we need to wait. There's too much going on and not enough time between us to enjoy each other's company."

She sighed heavily, falling into his chest. She looked up, eyes clear, sadness melted into her facial features. She looked like she would never be happy again.

"Smile for me, Miley. I'm not going anywhere."

"But you aren't mine..."

"Just give it time. Let everything settle and repair itself. Then, when there's time afterward, we'll be together."

She nodded, blinking her tears back into her eyes. He helped lift her back to her feet, and she leaned in, attaching her lips to his. It felt so good, so right.

Why did I ever have to break it off? Why?

For Lilly. It's all for Lilly. She needs Miley more than you do.

Miley gently pulled away from the kiss, still lost in the moment. Kitten felt a buzz running through his limbs, a natural high that just one kiss had given him. He instantly felt better, and when she opened her eyes, it was clear that she did too.

"Alright. I'll try. I'll wait for us, Kitten."

He nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Miley. Thank you so much."

She smiled back. "Only you," she mumbled dreamily, wandering toward the elevator. It took her down to the dorm level, where she went back to her room to freshen up. Meanwhile, Kitten jumped back on the table and stood at his end, gazing at the clock as he had been earlier that morning. He had just given up the one thing he had wanted from day one and would never be getting it back. It suddenly hit him full force, socking him in the throat, the chest, the stomach, the groin. He felt like a thousand crushing hands were groping at his body, and he fell to his knees, dropping backwards onto the table, his arms splayed, legs bent at odd angles, hair crushed beneath him. His jacket and button-up white shirt flayed open, the purple shirt underneath becoming visible. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, shaking, his body suddenly freezing.

If I let it go

If I let this go

If I let it go

Would the scars continue to show?

The words ran through his mind and he couldn't help but feel like the world was slowly crushing him, suffocating him, his heart an orange to be strained, his stomach a punching back, his intestines a jumprope, his groin a hackey-sack. Nothing was right anymore. He had just given up the only thing that he had ever wanted because Lilly had asked him to. He knew that he would never get her back now, not now that Lilly was interested, not now that he was broken, beat, and scarred. He moaned as he laid on the table, feeling exhausted, just laying there, letting the cold, hard wood remind him of his cold, hard decision. He had given up everything just because Lilly had asked.

And yet, he could not hate Lilly. She had loved Miley for longer than he had, had known the girl longer than he had, and was not at fault for what had taken place. He still cared for her, even though she had been the cause of his behavior. He hated it. It wasn't right. But he didn't hate her. She was just the way he felt, love-struck, and he was willing to give to her that which he had given up. He was always so willing to give up his possessions to other people without complaint. He sighed and began to quietly sing in the silence.

Even if I say

It'll be alright

Still I hear you scream

You want to end your life

Now and again we try

To just stay alive

Maybe we'll turn it all around

Cuz it's not too late

It's Never Too Late...

He sighed, struggling to control himself. He was on the border of keeping himself together and breaking down into tears. It was a fight that he was determined not to lose, and as he swallowed past the lump in his throat, trying to keep his stomach settled, a shadow drifted over his face. He could hear the long hair dragging gently on the table, felt the face get closer until the nose touched his. He screwed up his face, still struggling to keep everything in order, trying to stay sane, to stay strong. It was not easy with someone leaning over his face, touching his nose so calmly, so quietly, waiting.

He swallowed again and opened his eyes to see Lilly trying to to cry. He sighed.

"Hey, Lilly," he choked hoarsely.

"You...you're going to cry."

"No...I'm not," he said, closing his eyes tight, struggling to swallow and keep himself sane. He blinked rapidly, the tears retracting into his ducts. "I'm alright."

"No you aren't. You gave her up for me. I know you did. You wouldn't be laying here like this if you did. You'd be with her, happy, yourself."

"I'm still myself," he whispered. "I'm just...trying to deal with it."

One of her tears struck him on the lips. It was all he could do not to break down right then and there. The brunette had meant so much to him and he'd given her up for Lilly, the girl who was crying over him. It wasn't easy for him to stay in one piece. He refused to be broken. He refused to cry. He refused to let himself fall to pieces over Miley.

"You gave her up..."

"Yeah, I did. And I'd do it again to keep you happy. I'd do it a thousand times if it kept you happy."

She sighed, a slight whine in her voice. "You didn't have to."

"Lilly...you deserve to share her love. She just met me. She doesn't know me. You know her. She knows you. You've been friends for longer than I've known you. Like I said to you earlier...everything will be alright. I'll find someone. No matter how long it takes or how hard it is to cope. I'll...I'll pull through. You should go...go tell your girlfriend you're back."

"She's not mine yet...I-I haven't even asked yet," she said, trying to control her sadness. It broke her heart to see her leader so broken up over her best friend, the one that she had a crush on. She knew nothing. It needed to stay that way.

"Lilly...go tell her."

"No. Not now...not after you just told her no. She'll only get confused. I...I'll wait until the concert like you said."

He nodded, his nose rubbing hers. "You can stop crying now, Lilly...You're in the clear now. I'm no longer a factor."

She sighed. "But...you...I did this to you."

"Lilly, listen to me. You moping over this isn't going to make it better for you. She's yours now, not mine. It was my own choice to give her up, not yours. I elected to do this, and I'll deal with the consequences. It's not your burden to bear."

She sniffed, another tear hitting him on the lips. He again struggled with himself to stay together.

"I...I'm sorry, Kitten."

"Just...go," he whispered, locking his eyes shut. He clenched his fists. "Go."

She sniffed and slid off the table, the small box in her front pocket secured to her person. She shuffled to the elevator, then pushed the button. It opened for her and she turned, stepping into the box.

"Kitten-"

"Go!" he cried in a strangled voice. And as the doors slid shut, she felt her own heart sink at what she had done to the leader of their cult. She had brought him to his knees and broken him into pieces. No matter what he said, it would always be her fault in her eyes.

He laid on the table, squeezing his nails into his palms, breaking the skin in several places from the pressure. It was impossible for him to contain himself. He let one hot, angry tear pool up in his eye, where it then slid down his cheek and into his hair. It left a very cold trail, and he was reminded of how cold life now was without her. He growled, jumping to his feet with sudden energy. He stood on the table, looking at the chairs that surrounded it.

The one where Lilly usually sat suddenly flew backward away from the table, smashing into the wall, part of the head-rest splintering and cracking from the impact. Then the next chair followed, and the next, and the next, all the way around the table, they were all kicked violently into the walls until the only chairs left were his and Miley's. He stood in front of her chair and glowered at it.

"Miley, Miley, Miley...You have no clue what it takes," he paused, lifting the chair over his head, "for me to give you up."

He cried out as he threw the chair at the elevator doors. The impact shattered the chair and left a huge dent in the doors; they opened, wobbling, and the elevator stood at his command. He heaved and panted, pissed at the world. Nothing should ever demand he give up what he wanted, nothing. He fought for freedom, for choice, for his cult. He fought for their voices.

Lilly has a voice, too.

He stomped over into the elevator, and when he turned and pushed the button, he leaned against the back wall and wept. He needed to get to his house, the house he had purchased above-ground, and take a long, much-needed rest. But even as he crawled into the bed after stripping out of his clothing, he was overtaken by a suffocating compressive force at the realization that he had sacrificed his love for Miley Stewart for the better interest of Lilly Truscott, and the realization haunted his dreams all that day.

(time lapse)

"Miley? You done in there?"

She came out of the bathroom, a fuzzy towel wrapped around her body, another around her hair. She half-smiled at Lilly in the doorway.

"Hey, Lilly. How...how is everything?"

The blonde held up her wrists. Miley could see no marks on them and nodded, sighing.

"Good, good..."

"Everything okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, everything's fine. Just peachy-keen," she said, slowly walking to her dresser, where she began the process of picking a bra to wear. "Why, should something be wrong?"

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant," Lilly quickly assured her. "It...it's just what I heard..."

Miley sighed, her right hand clinging to the garment she had chosen. She slid the drawer shut and sighed, setting the bra on the top of the dresser and looking her friend square in the eyes. Lilly saw anguish and neglect in them.

"He told you, didn't he?"

She nodded sheepishly. Miley sighed, opening the second drawer to find a pair of underwear to put on. Neither of them were disturbed by this; they had seen each other naked plenty of times before, and had even played dress-up through their teenage years. They were practically sisters anyways, so it didn't really bother them.

"I'm...I still don't know what to say," Miley said, speaking to the drawer. She grasped hold of a white lace and tugged the panties free. They matched the lacy bra she had chosen. Only Miley would want to match her undergarments. Lilly refused to smirk; the air in the room told her that it would be a bad idea.

"I...I heard that he just kinda...laid it on you," she said tentatively. Her brunette friend chuckled sadly.

"Yeah...that's kinda the way it went down..."

She turned away from her friend and dropped the towel. Lilly couldn't help but gaze at Miley from behind. She was absolutely gorgeous, even with her hair in a towel and her back turned. Lilly's gaze rested on Miley's perfect ass and it was all she could do not to slide up behind her and give it a squeeze or a playful spank.

"Everything look okay back there?"

Lilly looked up. Miley was looking over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. Her bra was only halfway on, the strap in the back still open. Lilly turned red.

"I, um...sorry."

Miley laughed. "Well, don't stand there and stare at it, silly. Come help me clip this."

The blonde stumbled across the threshold and gently clipped her friend's bra. It was an incredible turn-on, knowing that she could easily undo the clip and let it fall back to the floor and off her body. The thought almost elicited a longing sigh from her. Almost.

"Now, if you're done checking me out, you can hand me my underwear."

Miley was obviously laughing at her. She could tell. And it embarrassed the hell out of her, not to mention made her feel angry and upset. She couldn't help what she felt for her friend. And it was all she could do not to cling to her friend's panties and never let go. Regretfully, but with a guarded expression, she handed them to Miley, struggling not to look down. Miley didn't make it any easier; she had turned her body slightly and had bent over so that Lilly got the full view. She sucked in a swift jet of air, hoping she hadn't made any noise. Even from the backside, Miley was absolutely gorgeous to her. It amazed her that she didn't break her self-control and grab hold of her friend in her very compromising position.

And as quickly as the view came, it went, the white panties covering the soft folds of her skin from eyesight. Lilly almost let out a sigh of both relief and disappointment. It was absolute torture to her not to be able to be honest with herself and her best friend. She had done it with Kitten, right? So why was Miley any different?

Because you love her.

The voice was right, but it didn't help matters.

"So, what did he tell you?" Miley asked resignedly, finally turning to face the blonde, whose eyes had a hard time not darting down toward her chest. This wasn't just mean, it wasn't just torturous. It was downright unbearable. With every ounce of her resolve, Lilly stood stock-still and swallowed.

"Um, well...he said that he let you go because it was going to be too hard for him to manage while this whole psychotic thing is going on. He couldn't truly be happy if he had to contend with saving the country, I guess."

"Yeah, that's kinda what he told me too." Miley sighed, her eyes filling. "I just...don't understand."

"I don't either, Miley," she lied calmly. Lying wasn't something that she was proud of or could do often, but she couldn't risk her friendship. Miley sniffed.

"Lilly...why does it have to hurt so much?"

The blonde sighed. "I don't know, Miley. I just don't know."

The brunette stepped into her arms and cried into her shoulder. Lilly rubbed her friend's bare back, loving the feeling of her skin. It was intoxicating. Everything about her was.

"Lilly...It hurts..."

The blonde gently kissed Miley's cheek. "Just let it out, Miley."

They stood there, locked in embrace, while Miley cried and cried.

(time lapse)

"Your Excellency," he had said. His father had sighed tiredly. The years were beginning to affect the old man; he hadn't even realized that his son had bowed a bit for him, just to be respectful.

"Son...dismiss the formalities. I'm not the monarch when we're in this room."

So he had paid attention. But he didn't care. He was just a man following his stupid selfish desires.

"Unfortunately, Your Excellency, your children now see you as such no matter what room in this house we live in. The Shrine of Blood is not a place for the faint of heart or the grand in dream, and it takes a great deal of sacrifice on the part of your daughter especially to put up with the pressures of being eighteen and the child of the world's dictator."

"Son, please," the man had said. "You make my heart clench up when you say such things, and I don't think it's a forewarning of a heart-attack." He had frowned at his son, then, standing up and walking slowly around the desk to face his son. "You always treat me like I am a bad man," he had accused. His son had kept his voice level and strong even in saying the curse that he had:

"I must treat you as you have demanded to be treated."

Such harshness had visibly shaken his father. "Young man, that is no way to talk to your father, monarch or not."

The man retaliated against the onslaught. "And this is certainly no way for you to be meeting with your son. Or have you not noticed that your other son, the one who once adored you and longed to fill your shoes, has stopped talking? Or perhaps that your once proud little girl, who always, always called you her 'best friend' and cracked stupid jokes about your relationship, now can't even bear to look you in the eyes and call you her 'favoritest daddy' anymore, just as she referred to herself as your 'favoritest daughter' once not so long ago. Once upon a nicer time, Your Excellency," he pressed on, "you were a father to us. You were the beacon of light that we followed. You were the power that we believed in. But once upon today, you have now contorted your image into that of hatred and misery. I can no longer have calm, personal talks about my life with you, and I am just one year above the drinking age which you intend to raise to twenty-five. Do you really think I can show my support for you as a man, father or monarch, when you put innocent lives to death for no reason?"

Despite his calm tone, the man had exploded. A vein pulsed in his temple at the condescending tone. "Stop right now, young man!" he cried out. "You have no right to talk to me in such a manner. You have no idea how much trouble I go through each day to assure that your lives are taken care of, that you all live to see another day. Don't you see how what I've done for you has created a brighter future for you all?"

His son had paused for a moment before continuing, counting his words in his mind, monitoring everything that he said. He intended to rile his father up into a frenzy, not cause him to lose his mind. "The only thing I see, Your Excellency, is fifty million people who are all mindless robots that are intended to do your bidding. You have taken advantage of the public's ignorance and stupidity and now brainwashed them into submission. You have now falsely presumed that your children should thank you for their future when we cannot. We cannot overlook that which you have created, that what you have done. Perhaps you've forgotten, Your Excellency," he paused just a fragment of a syllable for emphasis, "but I begged you on my knees, with tears in my eyes and a plummeting, sickened feeling in my heart. I choked out the plea to release the members of the revolt because I knew one of them in particular personally. We were close friends, Your Excellency, and you took him away from me. The day you damned yourself in my eyes was the day you sentenced Special Classification Oken to death."

There. He had said it. All cards were laid out on the table. His father was both angry and defeated.

"I had no choice, son! What would it have looked like if I would have let him go?"

The man was angry, boiling with rage, but he kept his calm. "The people would have had a chance to believe in a brighter future. And now you've crushed everyone's hopes and dreams, including those of your children. But it's not just us that it affects. That black man in the hallway, the one that you yell at and curse out, the one who is always so kind and respectful to you, the one that I pay extra money to for dealing with your bullshit...he's a true American, Your Excellency. He still believes in you. He believes in a brighter tomorrow, a possible escape from this hellhole of a prison you've bound your country in. he too has hopes and dreams and a family that he must go home to at the end of each day, and it is a blessing to them all if he comes home alive that evening." He drew a breath, still staring into his father's eyes. "You have created the world's most powerful, most secure, most feared empire, and you've destroyed the inhabitants that support you so unwillingly. Perhaps, Your Excellency, you need to take a step back from your position of power, step out of your own shoes and into his. Because it is not just your children you have neglected and pissed on, no. No, sir, you have pissed on your entire country, and are now proceeding to laugh at the clean-up effort."

His father was furious, so angry that he didn't have anything particular to respond with. "If you so much as say one more word, I will have you escorted from the premises." The man almost laughed at the feebleness of the attempt at a threat.

"Ah, excellent, just the way you drove mom away from you. Don't you remember what that did to your other children? I was already almost an adult and it wasn't such a big pressure for me to deal with, but your son was crushed especially, and your daughter resorted to using sex and alcohol as a way out of the pain. You weren't there for your kids. You weren't even there for your wife. And now the same prophecy reflects on your control of your country. You won. You own the place. But you aren't there for your people. You don't take anything they may have to say into consideration. This country is a fucking death camp, Your Excellency, and if you don't do something to change it, I will use all force necessary to tell you to stand the fuck down."

"What are you fucking me for, boy? Is this some kind of sick fucking joke to you?"

"I assure you, Your Excellency, I am not attempting to pull the wool over your eyes. I may not be able to call you father anymore, but I at least maintain a shred of respect and dignity for my elders, and that unfortunately includes yourself in my book. I am not lying when I say that I will bring you down if necessary. You can either take my hand and follow my lead to change the world that you've created, or you can doom yourself to eternal damnation while the sound of crackling fire surrounds you and consumes you from the outside and the inside simultaneously. This is not a death threat. This is a warning. It is the only one you will get from me. If you refuse to heed it, I will do whatever is necessary to see to it that you are removed and another is instated in your place."

"You've crossed the line, boy. It is one thing to insult and damn your father, but to outright defy him? I will have you disciplined for this, boy. No son of mine will talk to me in this manner, and no son of mine will threaten me with upheaval."

"Then you have damned yourself, Your Excellency. And if no son of yours shall do such things, then I am no longer your son."

The man proceeded to drag his fingers through his hair, releasing the mousse-like hairnet that he had been using to keep his hair down. It all sprung up and re-fluffed itself. He then looked expectantly at his father.

"What the hell is this folly, boy?"

"I forewarned you. You called my bluff. Problem is, it wasn't a bluff. I will be cleaning out my office and my room, and I will be moving away where I will meet with my cult, and we will come back to haunt you, Your Excellency. Do not take a threat from me lightly."

He had then dropped the suit to the floor, preferring the outfit of total rebellion he wore beneath it. He reached the door amid his father's angry shouts. "No son of mine will-"

"I'm not your fucking son," he had interjected angrily. He had only just barely put any voice behind it, but the sheer impact of the voice had left his father visibly shaken. It was so outrageous that he had literally taken his father and told him to shove it.

Time seemed to slip forward, where he stood in his room. Everything had been heaped in the middle. He took out a can of gasoline from under the bed, something he had brought in that morning.

"I told you I'd clean it out, sir. Here you go."

He dumped the entire contents of the can onto his possessions from the top of the mountain, watching it trickle down and soak into the carpet and wood. He laughed as he lit a match unconcernedly.

"Thanks for nothing, Your Excellency," he chuckled, pitching the match into the midst of the heap. It immediately combusted into a huge fireball, but by the time it ignited the man had already left. It would be several more minutes before the alarm would go off, but by then he would have already left, heading south-west toward a nice, tropical island off the coast of Florida, one that he had bought and fortified for his mother and Heather Truscott. He needed to pay them a visit and let them know that everything was going to be okay.

He tossed and turned, unable to stay in bed any longer. The sleep was killing him slowly; the drug was taking effect. He wanted nothing more than to see this through, but it meant that he would only be able to sleep once every two weeks to stay alive. It was torture, and it felt like he was dying inside, but he had long since learned how to cope without sleep. His father had made sure of that.

It had been a day like any other, just after the small upheaval had been had out. He had begged for Oliver to be released and taken back by the cult, but his father had signed the death waiver anyways. Oliver had been taken to a chamber, where poisonous carbon monoxide gas had filled his lungs and stopped his heart. He was dead in five minutes. Kitten, however, had been hoisted from the floor in his father's office, a gun wrenched from his hand. He had intended to kill his father. He had meant it. But he had been taken for an injection, one that was supposed to take the person's mind and bend it to do another's bidding. His father couldn't risk another outburst and had to have his son silenced. Unfortunately, his son's immune system had already been conceived with a bit of immunity to the drug within it, and it had only proceeded to have an adverse effect on him. He could stay up for months at a time, but every time he slept he lost about five years off his life to replenish the spent energy. Kitten was young physically, but had lost more than forty years off his life just in the past year alone. He couldn't keep risking his own premature death in such a way. It always got harder and harder to wake up. And one day, he knew, by the end of August, he would never wake up again. It was a sad truth to come upon, but it was one reason why he had to maintain calm: the more calm and collected and organized he remained, the more smoothly he flowed. The more smoothly he flowed, the longer he could stay awake. The longer he could stay awake, the longer he could live. That was one of the reasons he had latched so securely onto the girls. He loved them both to death, but he wished that he could at least give them the joy of a child. He had no intention of raping them, had never gotten into sex ever, not even when one of his high-school ex-girlfriends had pressured him to the breaking point. He had remained strong and steadfast. He had everything to gain and nothing to lose. And while the drug took its toll on his body, he fought back every day. Every day was just one more excuse to see their smiling faces again, no matter how tired he got. He never even appeared fatigued, the drug was so good. As long as he never slept, he could stay alive.

The monarch didn't know. The only thing he knew of his son was that he was restless at night, unable to sleep with the rest of the house, and that he spent many nights with his light on down the hall, unable to sleep, unable to succumb to death's imminent clutches. It was a losing fight that he had no intention of telling his father about. There was nothing he could tell, nothing that wouldn't eventually get discovered. He just had to keep it under wraps until his father finally got the peace he wanted through his deceased son.

He groaned and rolled over. It was tough to reboot his brain after spending so long awake. He had been running on no sleep for the past five months, since before Christmas, and he had finally taken a break. It would only get worse as the energy was leeched from his body during the production and performances. There was nothing he could do. He had planned to make it to see the next Christmas, but he had resigned himself to August after signing on to be the drummer. He couldn't bear to think of dying, but he knew there was no alternative. Something had to give.

Unless he could get ahold of the cure.

He knew, he knew that the scientist who had injected him had realized what had gone wrong and had extracted a blood sample; he watched the entire proceedings without blinking once. The scientist had gone about making an antidote, and was ready to inject it, but then he had been interrupted by the monarch disengaging his son from the chair and throwing the boy into his room. From then on he had hated his father for taking away his chance at salvation. The scientist had been fired the next day, but he knew who it was. He knew exactly who to go to. The problem was, the man was nowhere to be found. Nothing existed of him. Kitten began to wonder if the man had simply given up and died. One way or another, he either had to die, or he had to get the cure. And he had no interest in putting the girls through the pain of losing him if he didn't need to. There wasn't any sense in that. They didn't need the heartache.

But suppose he got the injection and it worked. Then what? He would have to wait for it to take effect, and he didn't know how long it would take. And what if it didn't work or had gone stale? Then he'd die off just as he'd been originally destined. One way or another, Fate had him grasped in its sticky clutches and was refusing to let go. Death would be welcoming him soon enough. It saddened him to think of his own death being so soon, but he wasn't irrational. He knew that it would have to come to pass eventually. His just happened to be sooner rather than later. It wasn't some life-or-death struggle. It was just the end. Poof. Gone.

He stood up, scratching his side. His purple shirt clung to him, his flannel shorts flaring a bit at the legs. He stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. It never really sat right with him; there wasn't ever a taste that water had to make it particularly enjoyable. And yet, he drank half of the bottle in one go. He waited for it to reach his stomach. There wasn't even really a need for him to eat, either. The drug had seen to that. He could go for three weeks without food, and two without water. It was a simple process of slowing his metabolism down to a snail's pace. However, that also meant that he had no excrement, liquid or solid. He was essentially programmed to live forever if he could do away with sleep. It was such a strange feeling to know that he could go for long periods of time without self-care or consideration. He was always clean; sweat didn't need to exist to keep him cool, he just didn't get hot. He was almost always cold anyways; body heat had ceased to be that important when he started wearing thicker, darker, longer clothing in more and more layers. He fit the clothes, and they fit him. It was his style. It had always been his style. And his father had disapproved. Well, look where that had gotten them: his father was an asshole whom everyone wanted to kill, and he was planning the revolt that would inevitably do just that. Ah, the irony.

The remainder of the water finally trickled into his stomach, the bottle landing on the counter beside two others just like it. One bottle of water per day could sustain him. Two was way too much. He had grown used to only ingesting one per day. It satisfied his body's needs. To most it was unhealthy. To him it was just how to live. There was never any need for more. But he did remember what it was like just five years ago before he was injected, when he had to eat three square meals a day to survive. It wasn't the most fun, and the sleeping took up tons of time, but he had to stay healthy. Then this happened, and he began to die a death that was only based on how often he slept. He had to stay strong. He had to stay awake for as long as he could. Even if he predicted August, he could stretch into November should the need arise. But that would only work if he could keep himself awake. He sighed. It was going to be a long few months.

Then the thought of the concert hit him and he smiled. It's all he had to keep him going after giving up Miley. Nothing else was really so important to him. Nothing but bringing the world back. And he was still a bit of a ways off from that. All he could do was lay the foundation and get the cult to come to action. He probably wouldn't live to see the revolt. Nothing would keep him alive that long unless the other states started to catch on. He didn't suspect they would. It wasn't very likely they would even know about the concert until he maneuvered the cult there. Most of northern California wouldn't even know either. Not until after he had moved the concert to San Francisco. He sighed again, suddenly saddened. It was going to take a lot of work. Death just seemed to creep closer and closer to him.

I will not be a failure to my cult. I will see them through for as long as I can, no matter what it takes.

(time lapse)

"Do you think he'll want me when this is all over?"

"What do you mean, Miley?"

"Well, think about it, Lilly. He's interested now. I can tell. I see it in his eyes. But what happens after he wins and we take this country back? What happens when it all comes to a head and then boils over? Where will I be compared to him?"

"Miley...I wouldn't concern yourself with him."

The brunette looked at the blonde and furrowed her eyebrows. "What the hell are you talking about? Weren't you the one who pushed me toward him?"

"That...was before I realized my mistake."

"You think that we were a mistake."

"No, that's not what I meant, Miley. I just...I wanted you to be happy, and you needed each other, or at least it looked that way. Please, that's not what I meant.

"Then what did you mean, Lilly?"

"I...I just...I wasn't really thinking clearly when I told you to go after him."

"And so now you think it was wrong for me to chase him?"

"Well...yes and no..."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I...I want you to be happy, but...I just don't really see it working with him, to be honest."

"But you were the one who pushed me toward him!"

"I know, and I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done it. I just...I wanted you to be happy, like I used to be...like I want to be."

Miley immediately softened. "You wanted to love him through me?"

"Well...kinda. Not exactly, though. I...can't really explain it."

"Lilly, you can tell me anything."

"Not this...it's too soon."

"What is it, Lilly?"

"Miley, please, you have to give me a bit of space."

Lilly was frustrated, not at Miley, but at herself. She couldn't just out and tell her best friend that she was in love with her. That wouldn't fly. As far as she knew, Miley was only interested in guys. And yet, she knew that she had to try. A small voice in her heart told her so.

"I...I can't explain it to you so soon. You aren't ready for it. Not so soon."

"Lilly, I think I can handle it."

"Trust me...this is a little bit big to contend with so soon after him."

"We didn't even technically form a relationship! How could this be so big?"

"It's huge, Miley," Lilly said quietly. The brunette closed her mouth slowly, blinking at her friend in wonder.

"This doesn't have to do with last night...I promise you I will never, ever, ever do that to you again. I...I realized my mistake. I was too quick to give in, too quick to let my feelings overrun me. I can't let it happen again. Not like that."

"Lilly-"

"Just hear me out. I...I wanted Oliver so badly last night. I wanted him to help me, to t-tell me what to do. A-and I think now that K-Kitten is a messenger, from God, a-and he is God's way of b-bringing Oliver back...without a body..."

"You...you're in love with him too?"

She sighed. "A little. Nobody can ever replace my Ollie-pop," she choked past the lump in her throat. It was very difficult to talk about him without crying. Miley shushed her gently.

"You can tell me anything, Lilly. Anything you want."

"I can't, Miley...It's like I said, it's too heavy. I...I'll tell you when I'm ready. I'm not in love with Kitten, though. He's just...he's not...not my...my...m-my O-Oliv-v-ver..." she trailed off, her lip wobbling violently. She suddenly found herself crying again, splayed out on Miley's bed, her head in her friend's lap, the brunette just stroking her hair, fighting off her own strain of tears. The pain, the anguish, it refused to leave them alone. It was so agonizingly bitter to be separated from Oliver, and as they both grieved in their own way, they prayed for him. They prayed that he rested in peace, that he would forgive them for what they had done and had yet to do, that he would accept Kitten, that he would protect them from harm. Oliver never broke any promise he made, never, and he was extra-careful about keeping his promises to the girls he had once coexisted with. They felt safe and secure as they drifted into a much-needed nap, a nap that comforted them both as much as they comforted each other.

Little did they know just how rough things would become.


Ominous. I'm sorry for the disease thing with Kitten and the chapter breaks, but it also plays into the story. He's got his own personal reasons for doing this, but at least he's alive. HOWEVER. I have a request that will run until I reach Chapter...12 or so. THIS IS THE CHALLENGE: In every review you give me, you must try to include which of the three main characters, Lilly, Miley, or Kitten, will be killed at the end of this story and WHY. It might be tough to write after reading this and the last chapter, both of which were depressing, but I think you guys can do it. I have faith. :)

Oh, the songs in the story are Let It Go by Escape the Fate and Never Too Late by Three Days Grace. They're both amazing songs.

Don't lose hope on me. I promise, I have a story-line written out. SIDE NOTE: I have written half of what I put into my Jimmy Neutron fanfic in one fourth the chapter count. 8D