Author's Note: Whenever you see something in italics...that means you're reading the character's thoughts. It shouldn't be too confusing.

P.S. Sorry if they seem out of character. I'm trying my hardest to stay true to character, but it is an alternate universe you know...they aren't going to be exactly the same.

Chapter 1

Five years later...

A dark blue sports convertible pulled up to a fairly large, white Malibu beach house, with a large U-Haul truck right behind it.

Robbie Ray grunted as he undid his seatbelt buckle, and turned to the back to look at his children. Jackson was asleep, his face squished against the side of the car, his headphones practically smashed into his ear. Miley was looking at her hands, tracing the small white scars along her left hand with her right forefinger.

"We're here." He stated in his slow southern drawl, and Miley looked up. The hair fell away from her face, revealing the long jagged scar that ran from forehead to chin down the left side of her face. It zigzagged from her hairline to above her eyebrow, over her eye, and then smoothed out, curving around her cheek before ending at her jawbone. It was an ugly pinkish brown, and it left Miley meek, timid, and self-conscious for the last five years. What was once his bright and shiny little girl was now a whispering ghost. She was pale, she almost never talked above a whisper, and she never, ever, looked anyone in the eye...not even Robbie.

Of course, if she had, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. The last time he had stared his daughter in the face and hadn't felt a tremendous guilt and sadness was the morning of the accident. He had lifted her up and kissed her on the cheek, smiling as her blue eyes shimmered with delight.

"Have a good day at the studio Daddy." Miley had said, and Robbie had told her he would.

He had been recording an album...an album he hadn't finished.

It had been five years now, and he was hoping that moving from Tennessee to Malibu, California would help him move on. The family needed a change, they needed to take in the life that California seemed to possess. And Robbie needed to escape from a place that constantly reminded him of his late wife. He hoped, he prayed that there would be a place somewhere in Malibu that he could go that wouldn't remind him of her face. That there was a smell that didn't remind him of her perfume, or a sound that wouldn't remind him of her voice.

He didn't want to forget her...no, never...he just needed to not be reminded of her absence every second of every day.

He came to Malibu hoping to finish the album he started over five years ago. After the accident, he was neither in the right emotional place or state of mind to finish. A studio in Los Angeles had contacted him six months ago, wanting to take him on, help him finish his album, and then start some comeback touring. Robbie agreed, hoping his fans hadn't forgotten him, and that they would welcome his comeback with open arms. Plus, the potential income wouldn't hurt. It wasn't as if the Stewart Family were strapped for cash. Robbie Ray and Trisha had saved up wisely, and the family had enough to live comfortably for quite some time. But it wasn't going to last forever, Robbie Ray knew that. He hoped his album would sell.

He had a lot of hopes.

As he stepped out of the car and took in the size of his new home, all he could think about what how his wife would never, ever, think of living in a house of this proportion. And he sighed.

Miley stepped out of the car and squinted as she took in the front of the house. "It's big." She murmured, and Robbie nodded, putting an arm around Miley's shoulders.

"Yeah, but on the bright side, we all get our own bathrooms."

Jackson woke up at the sound of the car door slamming, and sat up. He rolled his eyes and jumped over the closed door, pulling his headphones off.

"So, son, what do ya think of the place?" Robbie Ray asked.

Jackson didn't answer. Instead, he put his headphones back on, turned his walkman up loud, and walked down toward the beach.

Robbie Ray sighed again. Jackson hardly ever talked, and when he did, it was almost always out of anger. He wouldn't admit it, but Jackson felt guilty for not being in the car. For some weird reason, Jackson thought that being the car with his mother and sister would've changed what happened. Robbie Ray knew that it wasn't true, and deep down, even Jackson knew it, but he wasn't ready to face it.

They had all been changed. All for the worse.

Robbie Ray hoped that this change would be for the better, but it wasn't starting out very well.

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The movers had worked quickly, and by nightfall, the family had been settled in. Jackson had disappeared for a few hours by the beach, but returned just after dark, mumbling something about getting lost. They had ordered Chinese food, and soon after, decided to settle into their new bedrooms for the night.

Miley was sitting in the middle of her new bed, in her new bedroom, Indian style, reading a magazine she had picked up at the airport. As she flipped through the pages, there was a knock at the door. She knew it was her father before he opened the door. Robbie Ray made it a habit to see his daughter off to bed. She couldn't recall if he had ever done it before the accident, but could remember very clearly that he did it the first night she had returned home from the hospital, and every night after.

"Hey bud, just coming in to say goodnight."

Miley offered a small fake smile to her father, and put the magazine on her nightstand. Robbie sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. "So, you ready to start school tomorrow?"

Miley nodded slightly, but in reality, was completely terrified. She knew how the kids at school would be. After the initial shock of her appearance wore off, they would taunt her relentlessly. They'd call her "Scarface" or "Quasimodo," and the rumors would spread like wildfire.

Insane stories about biker clubs and knife fights, or bear attacks, or God-knows whatever else the bratty rich-kids of Malibu would come up with. Miley fought long and hard to disappear into the background in Tennessee. Now she would be at the forefront again, and she dreaded it.

"I know you're nervous." Robbie Ray said, putting a comforting hand on his daughter's knee. "But we're all a little afraid of what the future's gonna hold for us here."

Miley nodded, understanding. But you don't look like a hideous monster. Nobody's going to stare and point and laugh at you. "I know." She whispered, looking down at her hands.

Robbie moved the hair away from Miley's eyes and put his hand on her face. "I know you're gonna be out for a tough time tomorrow Miles, and every day I wish I could do something ta change it, but--"

Miley moved her face away from her father's comforting hand. "I know Daddy. It'll be okay. I'l be fine...I mean, I got Jackson right?"

Robbie rolled his eyes. "Right. He'll be there if you need anything, and you know you can always call me, right?"

"I do."

Robbie Ray stood, feeling a little better about the whole situation. "Good. I'm ah...I'm gonna let you get to bed. It's gonna be an early day tomorrow. So, goodnight darlin." He leaned over and kissed his daughter on the forehead, running a hand over her hair.

"Night." Miley replied, pulling her covers back and slipping her feet beneath them.

Robbie made it all the way to the door before turning back. "Miles, I know Malibu's a big change, but I think if we just stick together and give it a chance, it won't be so bad, huh?"

Miley nodded, but she already knew it was going to be bad.

She hated Malibu.