I'm doing the best I can; now that I've begun, I can't stop lest I lose the momentum. Nevertheless, the immense workload is taking its toll on me, and I find myself in desperate need of a rest. Thankfully, we approach the weekend.
And for the people who wonder where I actually live: Let me tell you something about the education system in Singapore. The school curriculum is not like many of the countries in the world. Unlike, for example, USA, we do not have definite seasons. Therefore, we follow a system that looks like this: School starts in January, one week break in mid-March before resuming schooling, one month holiday in June before resuming schooling in the last week of June, then another one week break in early-September before the final examinations. And then, the holiday in mid-November is the fourth and final holiday of the year lasting one-and-a-half months. I am told that Australia also follows this system (please correct me if I'm wrong).
I imagine that in many other countries, the major holiday is the summer holiday, which lasts about three months, maybe less, with some minor breaks in between like Christmas holiday. Therefore, while many of you are staying up late partying at night, I am staying up late slaving off at night. School in Singapore usually starts around 7am to 7.30am, and there is no definite time when school ends (taking into account that there are still after-school activities).
Anyway, that's enough about my miserable life. Let's get on with the story, shall we? This chapter includes more about how Lilly thinks about reconciling with Miley, but I won't be getting to the part where they actually become friends again for a while. At least let the drama flow. This chapter is actually more of an extension of the previous chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana.
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Lilly's POV from here on:
"I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I WANT TO HELP YOU ANY MORE! IF YOU WANT TO BE THIS WAY, THEN FINE! MAYBE I DON'T CARE THAT YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND ANY MORE! MAYBE I DON'T CARE THAT YOU WANT TO DIE!"
"I'M HELPING YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE MY BEST FRIEND! BUT IF YOU'RE GOING TO TREAT ME THIS WAY THEN I SHAN'T BOTHER AT ALL! WHY DO I EVEN WANT TO STAY FRIENDS WITH SOMEONE LIKE YOU?! JUST GET BACK IN THAT CUBICLE AND CRY TILL YOU DIE! I DON'T CARE EITHER!"
"I'M NOT YOUR FRIEND ANY MORE, MILEY STEWART! YOU ARE UNGRATEFUL AND YOU ARE UNDESERVING! CONSIDER OUR FRIENDSHIP OVERRRR!!!!"
Even now, those words resounded in my head, bouncing around the walls of my mind like undying echoes. Now that I've calmed down and reviewed the scene which Miley and I caused, I began to feel the slightest gnawing sensation of shame and awkwardness. What I said not only sounded cruel and hurtful, but it was unreasonable. Miley was a nervous wreck when I got to her, and in other words, was somewhat emotionally unstable. Now that I've thought about it, I think I might have gone too far. I should not have lost my temper with her. A washing-feel cold shivering sensation was felt inside me and outside alike, as if icy water was poured over me. It was disappointment, with myself.
I looked at Miley sitting beside me on the limo, next to the window. She looked like a wreck alright; she was no longer crying, nor was she sobbing, but she simply fixed her eyes on her fists, clenched and placed neatly on her lap. She was absolutely silent; no doubt she was also thinking about what I had just said. On her head, the Hannah wig sat sadly.
I wanted to say sorry, but somehow, I couldn't get those words out of my mouth. I couldn't get anything out of my mouth. It's like as if we were no longer on speaking terms. The awkward silence was unbearable, and every now and then I would fidget and shift uncomfortably, keeping my eyes mainly out of the window. Miley, however, remained motionless, not even blinking.
Oliver, though, had lots to say to me. Making sure Miley could hear, he turned around on his seat in front of mine and practically berated me for my previous lack of sensitivity.
"I cannot believe you can say such things to your best friend, Lilly! You knew what was happening, didn't you? You saw it happen, whatever it was! I don't think screaming at your friend for being unable to get over some emotional issues is a very sensitive thing to do!"
Furious and indignant despite my private thoughts, I rebutted him. Actually, there was nothing I could say; I was secretly ashamed of myself.
"Hey, I was getting impatient! And since when have you learnt to be so sensitive?"
"Getting impatient is not an excuse! You know Miley needs your help! But instead, you scream all those things at her, just when she needs help the most! That is so unlike you, Lilly!"
"Well, I'm so sorry, then, Oliver!"
"It's not me whom you should apologise to, it's - "
"Drop it Oliver."
Miley spoke up suddenly, her voice flat and emotionless. Oliver instantly stopped talking, as if someone had just pushed a pillow onto his face and held it there. The temperature in the limo dropped significantly, and sensing that the best thing to do right now was to sit and be quiet, Oliver turned around and crossed his arms, probably bursting to yell at me some more.
And there we sat, in the limo, for what felt like an eternity, waiting for Mr Stewart and Roxy to come back. The silence was so thick we would probably have suffocated if it were smoke. All the while a voice in my head called conscience started to pick up where Oliver had left off.
"You shouldn't have done it, Lilly. You feel guilty, don't you? Guilty is the word. Guilt upon guilt. Why did you blow your top at your friend just when she needed you the most? Oliver's right; you were being a little insensitive. Miley wasn't thinking straight at the moment; can you really blame her for saying all those things and yelling at you to get out of her sight? What would you have done if you were in her shoes?"
But how do I apologise to her? Will she listen to me, after all that I've said?
"Miley? Where are you going?" Oliver said suddenly. I looked around and saw Miley get out of the limo. Was she trying to get away from me? Was she afraid of me, perhaps? I sincerely hoped Miley wasn't leaving because of me...
"Hey, Miley! Wait up! Where're you going?" Oliver opened the door as well and followed her back into the building. Feeling that I should follow suit, I got out, muttering a hasty apology for the driver Andy.
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Meanwhile, Robbie was negotiating with the director:
Well, the director had nothing to say, watching Roxy carefully, but Wendy tried to stop us leaving early.
"But Mr Montana! We've got ten more minutes left for Hannah! You can't leave us hanging over here! This is a live show!"
"Well, I'm afraid Hannah's in no condition to do the remainder of the show, so if you can find a replacement or something, that'll be good." I tried to reason with her.
"But this departure is too sudden and all our viewers will be wondering what happened on this show! What do you think would happen if you were one of the audience, watching the show go well and all when all of the sudden, Hannah takes off, crying?" Wendy rebutted.
"I WAS one of the audience. And yes, I think there will be a certain amount of chaos, but as manager and father of Hannah, I feel that it is my ultimate responsibility to look after my child's health, and I say, Hannah needs to go home."
"Mr Montana, this is so unreasonable! So what happens to our show now?!"
The director was silent, trying to stay out of this as much as possible. But I could tell, and I was sure everyone felt so at the moment, that the abrupt departure of Hannah will be the seed of confusion and trouble for us. Nevertheless, I stuck to my point, convinced that Miley had had enough for one day.
I was wrong.
"It's okay, Dad. I'm ready to do the show and get it over with."
Hannah appeared at the door, looking like a complete mess and wreck. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face was tear-stricken, and she was visibly sagging, as if she had exhausted all of her strength. But I could see her staunch spirit trying to muster up some courage with meager determination. Tonight, Miley was an impregnable fortress.
I could not help but feel proud of her, despite my insistence that we should be going home.
"Honey, you can't be doing to show like this. We're going home."
"You see, Mr Montana? Even Hannah wants to finish the show! I don't think anyone would want a show-stopper! What say you now, Mr Montana?" Wendy increased her gusto, heartened upon seeing Hannah return onset.
I didn't know what to say at all. I was spared the trouble, however, when Miley spoke up again, albeit in a flat expressionless and weak voice.
"I can't leave the show so suddenly like this. If I leave, people are going to be confused, and I will have done something very selfish. I don't want to be labeled as selfish; Lilly's done it already. I'm going back to finish the show, and God help me if I mess up again!"
"Honey, who's going to help you if you start again on stage later?"
"You are. You can sit next to me." Miley said matter-of-factly.
I was fresh out of words to argue with. Miley had won.
"Well, we've got a minute before the commercials end, so everyone get ready to resume your posts! Hannah, you'll need a touch-up on your make-up, don't you?" The director suddenly burst out of his "silent stone gargoyle" mode and assumed command once more.
"No, I don't need a touch-up." Miley calmly refused. Turning to Roxy, she added, "Roxy, can you find Lilly and Oliver please? And if you find them, ask them if they want to come and watch. Don't worry, Roxy, I'll be fine."
"And she's got her Daddy next to her." I added after her.
Roxy shrugged and left to look for Lilly and Oliver, apparently having lost Miley. I noticed perspiration on Hannah's forehead. Did she run all the way here, looking for us, or was she thinking about the ten minutes later?
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"And we're back to the show! With Wendy Cruz and Hannah Montana!"
The audience were given the cue to applaud loudly, and Wendy waved at them passionately. Hannah sat on the chair opposite of Wendy's, looking tired but determined. I sat beside her, holding her hands in mine.
"So Hannah, care to explain what happened that made you run off before the commercial break?" Wendy's first question was. The audience sat up straighter, listening attentively.
Miley was hesitant.
"Well...I had a little...panic attack...or something like that...and I felt I needed to scootle my bootle out of here..."
"We witnessed you bursting into tears just now. The caller was mystified, and so were all of us. Are you alright, Hannah?"
"I'm fine, thanks."
"Then what made you cry on-screen just now? Was it the sad story the caller told? Or was it something else?"
I could tell that the questions were getting closer and closer to Hannah revealing her underside. Nobody knew Hannah had not a mother, yet. Nobody expected Hannah to be emotionally scarred. But as I looked at Miley sitting next to me looking both very jumpy and very uncertain, I had a feeling that Miley was ready to divulge that little detail...
"Well, this subject is actually a very sensitive one for me...I mean, that girl's mother...it reminds me of..."
Miley was not sure about how she was going to say it. Nervously, she gave me a glance. I nodded in reply, egging her on to do what she wanted to do.
"Reminds you of what? What, Hannah?" Wendy pressed on quickly.
"Well...erm...it was very reminiscent. I mean, the burning building collapsing, killing someone trapped in it, it reminded me of something really tragic." Miley began vaguely.
"And that is...?" Wendy pried on. She was a tad annoying, but it's her job to extract information as an interviewer.
"It's a very sensitive subject..." Miley's voice trailed away into nothingness as she looked at me once more, as if trying to say, "Should I say it?"
I nodded. "Yes. Do it, if you think you want to." was what I said to her telepathically.
Closing her eyes in meditation, she took a deep breath and exhaled before the big confession.
"I'm going to come out clean and say this. The reason why I ran off crying just now was because it reminded me so much about something that actually happened to me. I had a sudden panic attack, and I was unable to control myself."
Taking another deep breath, she continued, "Also, why is this subject so sensitive to me. I don't have a mom. My mom died four years ago, our burning home falling on top of her. That's why the caller's story gave me a sudden panic attack; it was so similar to what actually happened to me. What happened to my mom..."
Miley took a very deep, shuddering breath and exhaled very slowly, trying to rein in her emotions. I could tell, though, that she was also partially relieved. A heavy burden was removed off her shoulders, now that this piece of secret was out of the bag.
The audience only heard "My mom died four years ago", and when they realised what their favourite pop idol was saying, they reeled back in shock. Soon mutterings and whispers loud enough to carry erupted all over the room.
Wendy was speechless for a few seconds. When she finally found her tongue, all she could say was, "I'm...sorry...?"
Miley chuckled mirthlessly.
"And even though it's been four years, I still haven't gotten over it yet. I don't know why; I just never let it go. Daddy understands..." Miley hugged my arm for support, glancing at me for a second. Behind her calm demeanor, I could feel her shaking. Of fear? Of effort? Or was she scared about how the rest of them reacted?
"So...Hannah Montana has a soft underbelly...so I think that's the reason why your Dad wrote the song "I Miss You"?" Wendy regained full ability to use her tongue.
"No, actually, she wrote that song with her mom. It was originally dedicated to her granddad, but after the...thing that happened...she sang it during the funeral, she did." I spoke up for Miley, who seemed to be shaking violently now. Maybe it was cold.
Yes. The funeral. I remembered the time when all of us were in black, and Miley completely lost her head and cried over the coffin till her throat started to bleed. When it was time for the eulogy, she sang the song. It fitted everyone's thoughts at the moment perfectly; every phrase was meaningful and the entire lyrics was free of ambiguity.
The audience were unsettling. Wendy had to hold up her hand to pacify them in order to get on with the show.
"So everything you said just now: the baking cakes at home on Mother's Day and the shopping thing, all those were lies?" Wendy meant no accusation.
"Yup. I'm not inclined to tell you what we actually did on Mother's Day before she passed away. But the song...that's the reason I wanted to record it and include it in the album. I wanted to find a way to appreciate the song. Recognise it. Though I'm still not sure whether Momma's watching from above or not..."
The interview went on for another five minutes, with some callers coming in and expressing their surprise at the news that Hannah had lost her mother tragically, and offering their sympathy. Every second that went by was relative to the increasing force Miley used to grip my arm. Tighter and tighter she held onto my arm, as if trying desperately to control herself and avoid breaking down in front of the live TV cameras again.
She failed though. When Wendy finally dismissed everyone from the show, Miley reached breaking point.
"Right! That's about all the time that we have, so thank you all and good night! Remember to catch more about our hottest celebrities and their VERY surprising news and such on Wake Up, it's Wendy! next Friday!" Wendy announced the end of the show.
Miley turned to me and whispered, "Thanks for being here for me Dad."
"My pleasure, honey."
We pulled into a warm embrace, in which I totally forgot about the cameras, and Miley did not care about them. Many in the audience went, "Aww!" upon laying their eyes on the beautiful moment between their pop star and her father.
"I really miss her, Daddy..."
"Me too, bud. You know what, I'm proud of you. You stayed strong and told everyone the truth. Now the only thing we have to be afraid of is how the tabloids and the press are going to react now that they know Hannah is grieving."
I realised that a stray tear was trickling down Miley's eye.
"But what about Lilly and I having a fight just now?"
"I don't think people need to know about that, love. No one noticed. You're going to be fine."
Miley snuggled deep into my chest and began to cry, this time because of mixed feelings of sadness, relief and uncertainty. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to comfort her by stroking her (fake, actually) hair, the way we would do it whenever she needed comfort.
I was totally aware that everyone, including Wendy, Lilly, Oliver and Roxy were watching. But I did not care. Tonight, Miley was an impregnable fortress. And I was the piece of earth where she built her fortress on.
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Phew! Yes, it's done! I've finally figured out how to end off this Mother's Day part. Now, just one more extension to go and I will get on with a new plot line in this story. Thank you all for your kind patience, and once again I deeply appreciate your sympathy.
By the way, I'd just like to know, how did you all feel about the fight between Miley and Lilly in the previous chapter. Was it too much? Or was it too little? Did you feel that Lilly should have said something more tactless, or do you think there should have been some kind of physical fight happening? (Please don't suggest the last one, HA!) Anyway, I'd just like an opinion or two about the fight between the sisters. Thanks.
And to Ms (or Mr, I'm never too sure) Mandyj74, your wish came true!
Terrorking Tragedian