Unlisted Help Chapter 50: Frisbee, a hannah montana fanfic

We arrived at the concert hall in Santa Monica, after a long and quiet drive, just as the movers were bringing in the speakers and microphones. Lily and I got in quickly, unlike the onlookers outside the front door, and when we got to the stage I led Lily to the speakers being set up, I motioned for her to sit in front of the microphone, as I watched the movers hook wires together.
"Say something into the microphone," I instructed Lily, who was standing there staring at the rows and rows of seats. Lily turned to me, with one eyebrow turned up, "say something, so that we know the microphone is working."
Lily nodded and tapped the microphone before she said, "Test 1-2-3." I shook my head; nothing was coming out of the speakers. The movers attached another wire to the speaker and I nodded for Lily to try again. "Can you hear me now?" I shook my head. "What about now?"
I nodded this time; the speakers were working fine, "Alright." I told Lily as she walked away from the microphone. "Now we've got to talk with Hannah's choreographer, wait until Jackson drives Hannah and Oliver here after school and run a sound check." Lily nodded, and the both of us sat down on the front row seats just in front of the stage. We'd have to wait another two hours before Miley and Oliver came, and now we had to wait for the choreographer, Ms. Greyer.
"Good afternoon," Ms. Greyer came in with a large smile of her face. She held out her hand to shake mine, and then noticed Lily. "Who's this Mr. Montana?"
I gestured for Lily to come up to my side and when she did I put my arm around her and said, "This is Hannah's best friend Lily." Lily smiled and said hello before she went back to her seat. "Do you mind waiting here for a little bit, Ms. Greyer and I have to go elsewhere." Lily nodded, and turned away to watch the movers on stage.

Lily's POV:

Mr. Stewart was gone for almost half an hour until he came back and sat down next to me. He said something to me, but I ignored it and refused to turn around to face Miley's dad. I had a pounding headache, one that I was trying to ignore as well as Mr. Stewart, and the rash on my arms and neck were started to itch, but I was trying not to scratch them.

"What do you want to do until they get here?" Mr. Stewart asked, for the second time, to they he was referring to was Miley, Oliver and Jackson. I shrugged, "We've got about an hour and a half, there's got to be something." I shook my head, "Why don't we just walk to the beach?"

I shrugged, the beach was just outside the arena, but I didn't know whether I wanted to go or not. "I guess we could go for a little bit."

Mr. Stewart nodded, turned me around and took my hand leading me out the door of the arena and to the beach that was just ahead of us. We were silent the entire way, as we walked up and down the sidewalk. Again, Miley's dad was the first to try and start a talk.

"Want to play Frisbee?" He asked, holding up a Frisbee he'd had hidden behind his back. I shrugged but Mr. Stewart didn't seem to care. "Alright then, we'll play."

I laughed, and ran towards the other direction so that we were as far apart as possible. I yelled for Mr. Stewart to throw the Frisbee. "Throw it," I said into the wind, but Mr. Stewart who was turned around the other way didn't hear. "Mr. S! Are you going to turn around?" I yelled again.

This time Miley's dad heard me and faced my way, throwing the Frisbee as hard as he could, only to have it reach about half way.

I ended up laughing harder, ultimately forgetting about my problems. "Is that as good as it's going to get?" I yelled, because this was the only way Mr. Stewart could hear me from where he was standing. He held up his hand to his ear, so I yelled louder, "Bring your game Mr. S, is it me or do you suck at throwing a Frisbee."

Mr. Stewart laughed and ran towards the Frisbee half way between us, he stayed where it landed and threw it the rest of the way to me. I'd been playing Frisbee with Blake since she decided to learn on her fourth birthday in October – so I was much better than Mr. Stewart was. I ended up having to run for his throws, almost all the way down to the water one time, and then back to the sidewalk again. Unfortunately it wasn't long before I could no longer ignore my headache and my aching muscles. I decided to sit down on the closest bench until I could catch my breath again, I'd become so out of shape.

"It's almost time for Miley, Oliver and Jackson to arrive," Mr. Stewart told me, sitting down next to me on the bench; he noticed the state I was in and turned to me. "Are you all right?"

I rolled my eyes; of course since I'd had a seizure this morning Mr. Stewart was going to go all protective on me. "I'm fine," I told him through breaths; I noticed they were getting shorter. "Just out of shape – comes with the cancer I guess."