[Author's Note]
Such Great Heights is actually a love song by The Postal Service. I'm sure that when you think The Princess Diaries you don't exactly think of the Postal Service, but I love the lyrics, and the song in general. And I figured instead of making this story revolve around an angsty/sad song, I'll put in some happiness. Don't mind my rambling, it's not like you actually have to read this anyway. I know I never do.
I actually have written a few Princess Diaries fics before under a different penname, but I refuse to let anyone know my old penname. Feel free to guess, though.
[/Author's Note]

Can you sleep as the sound hits your ears one at a time?
An unspoken balance here,
Unabridged for so many years.
That I should stare at receivers to receive her isn't fair.
Don't worry I'll catch you.
Don't ever worry.
Your arms in mine, anytime.
I wouldn't trade anything,
you're still my everything.
To my surprise, before my eyes, you arrive.
I'm still breaking old habits when you pulled the wool over me.
I can see everything, remembering "jinx removing."
No need for reminding... you're still all that matters to me.

"I'll Catch You"; The Get Up Kids

IMPORTANT:

Okay. Background check: Mia's royal status was never publicized throughout high school, and she kept it secret, only telling select people [not including Michael]. So no one really knows about her being a princess besides her direct family, Lilly, Tina, and the entire Genovian public. Simple? I hope so.

Such Great Heights
Chapter One
Welcome Home

It's the one secret I've kept so well, the one secret that no one knows, besides a select few. It's a secret that drags me into some miniscule country called Genovia every vacation we had. It's a secret I wish I didn't have to hide, a secret I wish I didn't have to deal with it at all.

But I've wished several times that I wasn't a princess, and wishing is useless against fate. Some people have easy fates to deal with, like getting gray hair early, but I had to be the unlucky one with the weight of an entire country on my small, unbalanced shoulders.

And they kept it a secret from me for over half of my life, finding the time to tell me when I reached fourteen. And I kept it a secret from everyone else. The press didn't publicize the story at all, which was a surprise. I was all over the Genovian papers, and no where to be found in the local ones. I took this to my advantage and told no one about my unfortuinate heritage. I was embarrassed by it. But I somehow knew that one day, I wouldn't be able to keep the secret any longer.

I knocked on the Moscovitz's apartment door, following a routine I had followed so many Fridays in the past. I heard Pavlov barking and clawing at the door, which could really only mean one thing.

Michael was home again. Oh-so-fabulous-and-talented Michael, who's also not horribly unattractive. He got a record deal with his band, The Endings, a year ago, dropped out of Columbia, and went on tour for months. We started seeing him anywhere and everywhere. He'd become famous.

I haven't seen him since. Whenever he was home for a short period of time, I was in Genovia. And oh, how I'd missed him.

He opened the door and smiled the widest smile I've ever seen on his wonderful face, giving me a huge hug that made my knees weak and my heart pound.

I've had a crush on this guy since practically forever, and now he was hugging me. God, it was nice to get a hug from him. He still smelled of ivory soap, and I was happy he wasn't wearing cologne. He still seemed like the same old Michael, walking around in his pajama pants and no shirt, which always caused me to stare a bit too much.

I wonder if he'd think any different of me if he knew I was a princess.

"Hey, Mia, haven't seen you in a long time!" he exclaimed, hugging me. "Where've you been? Every time I came home, you had went somewhere on vacation or something."

"I've been really busy," I said, pulling away reluctantly. "But so've you, with your band and all! I see you guys all over the place!" He laughed modestly, and I was happy the rockstar world hadn't transformed him into some power-hungry superstar. But I guess Lilly's been thinking the same thing about me for a while now. "How long are you home for?"

"A long long time," he said, grinning.

"Where's Lilly?" I asked, noticing her absence.

"Oh, she went to go help Boris with something. It seems like I haven't missed much while I was gone. I mean, Lilly's still with Boris. Oh, how's Rocky?"

"A typical four-year-old. Loud, toy-obsessed, annoying, etc." He laughed and led me into the kitchen.

"Something to eat?" He opened the fridge and pulled out a can of soda, tossing it to me. Luckily, I caught it at the last minute. He took one for himself and chugged it down in an instant. "I missed being home. Touring is great for a while, but it gets old after a couple of months."

"Are you staying here?"

"Yeah. For now. I'm looking for an apartment somewhere near here so I don't have to bug my parents while I'm writing." The was a pause. "Hey, you guys just graduated, right? What college are you going to in the fall?"

"NYU." I replied, proud that I'd talked Grandmere out of making me go to a Genovian college. He nodded and smiled, not aware of my struggle.

"You're close to home, which is always a good thing. You're sharing an apartment with Lilly, right? Or at least that's what she told me." I nodded.

"Yep."

The phone rang and Michael ran for the phone, mumbling: "please, no fangirls this time". He answered it and was seemed substantially relived, and somewhat happy. He hung up with a smile on his face. "Looks like you're stuck with me till 11, Thermopolis."

"Huh?"

"Lilly's not getting back till 11, so you're stuck with me and Pavlov. Why? Something wrong?"

"No, not at all," I said truthfully. The clock read 9:00. I couldn't turn down two hours with the guy I've been crushing on since freshman year.

"I've missed you, Thermopolis," Michael said to me, looking straight into my eyes. We were in the living room, sitting side by side on the couch eating junk food, with Pavlov picking up the crumbs. His words had me confused. Why would someone on tour with his world-famous band even have time think of me, his little sister's meaningless little sister's best friend, let alone miss me?

"Really?"

"Yeah, I did," as if it was the most practical thing in the world for him to miss me. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, being on tour and all. But performing live makes up for it."

"So why are you back home?" I asked, hoping to start a conversation.

"Well, I need a short vacation. I'll probably write some songs in my spare time. But by next year we really have to work on our next album. Besides, I was having some writer's block. I needed some more inspiration."

"Inspiration? What inspiration?" I inquired, realizing a lot of his songs were about longing after someone. As soon as the words reached his ears, the look on his face made me want to take it back. He was looking down at his worn-and-torn converse high-tops [an eighties boy at heart] and biting his lip. God, I hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable. And besides, I really didn't want to know who the guy I was crushing was longing after. "I mean..." I stuttered, "that's none of my business. It's not my place to know who you write your songs about. I'm sorry--." He cut me off.

"It actually kind of is your business, considering I write most of them about you."

He was looking into my eyes again, no sign of emotion in his face while he waited for me to process this valuable little piece of information.

And then it hit me.

I smiled and laughed, blissfully happy, my eyes widening with shock and brightening with happiness both at the same time.

He looked back down at his feet, mumbling. "It wasn't a joke. I really do love you." I realized that laughing must've made it seem like I was laughing at him, and forced myself to stop. Michael Moscovitz had just proclaimed his love for me, and there was no way I was going to ruin it.

"I love you too, Michael," I said, confidently, in a voice totally different than my own.

He looked up, and now he was the one laughing, while he cupped my chin in his hand and placed his lips on my own.

[Author's Note]
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