As I typed the original chapters 4 and 5, I discovered that the more I typed it, the more I hated it. If someone wants to see the original version of this story, I will post it up some day. Nevertheless, despite some people actually liking the story, I had to destroy part of it, for it was disappointing. The plot has been corrupted or perverted from what I wanted the story to be originally. Therefore, I hope readers would understand and enjoy what I have got in store. If anybody wants to see the screwed-up version, please tell me. I shall post it up for all to see (but will be in no hurry to complete it). Let this be a lesson to all who rush to complete a story without thinking. The result is usually a total mess.

Seriously, I have never felt so RUINED in my life!

I suppose it was a minor writer's block that delayed the coming of this chapter. Nevertheless, it is done. The new and originally intended plot for Silent Beauty!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

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Dealing with a handicap was hard. First, you have to get over the denial and shock, accept your imperfection, and then you have to defeat the depression that might surface upon acceptance of the terrible truth. Kind of like the stages of grief, really. After fully getting over the grief and being okay with the handicap, comes the harder part. Living on with the handicap. How to continue your life with a handicap. The most important thing to do when you try to live with a handicap is to change your lifestyle. A wheelchair-bound athlete will have to give up soccer and surfing for other wheelchair sports. A blind person will have to live out the rest of his life in total darkness, depending only on his hearing and touch to feel the world around him. He will have to live with the fact that he may never watch another movie nor television show again, he may never look at his food ever again (only smell and taste it), and he will have to get over the depression when he learns that life without vision will be utterly dull.

But everyone gets over grief in the end. A blind man faces a bleak future, and he must face it bravely. In time, he will learn that he must.

But getting over the first stage of grief will be difficult is you are a celebrity. A pop star, in fact. A teen pop sensation, Hannah Montana. The one who prizes her voice and uses it all the time. And all that Hannah thing bust, just by a simple handicap.

What will the world say if they found out Hannah Montana, their favourite pop star suddenly became a mute?

Outrage, sorrow, grief, loss, all that chaos will ensue. Hannah being a mute is such a painful thought I rather wished I became blind instead. That didn't come out right, did it? I don't want to be blind, of course. But I didn't want this curse. I never asked for this ill luck to strike Hannah's career down forever.

Oh but you did ask for it, did you not? You had to sing six encores. Now, because of that, your little songbird life is gone for good. That nasty little voice of the back of my head constantly reminded me that it was my entire fault as I punched the pillow trying to get some sleep that night.

In truth, I felt ultimately horrible. I DID bring this on myself. Now because of me, millions of fans across the world will be disappointed.

The word 'remorse' described me perfectly at this moment.

My pillow was soaked with warm tears by the time the mocking rays of the sun pierced through the curtains, calling morning into the world.

"Miley, you look terrible."

Dad hardly knew how to sympathies with me; he too was in shock upon witnessing such a turn of fate.

Jackson did not have anything to say to me, either. He did want to see his little sister get into trouble, but he never expected her to lose her career to an operation; in fact, he even teased her about being nervous before the operation.

Still recovering from that fateful operation, I could not eat solid food for three days. Dad made me some hot cocoa instead of cereal.

Breakfast passed in relative silence. That is, until Lilly and Oliver crashed through the door with a large BANG.

"Miley! We heard about the operation! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!!" Lilly was practically panicking when she charged through the door, Oliver behind her.

I ran up to her and helped her up by the shoulders when she tripped on Jackson's shoe. Oliver stood frozen a few paces away from us. He was by no means calm, either.

"Mr. Stewart told us yesterday they had to take out your vocal chord! We couldn't believe it! It's not a joke, is it?"

Lilly whispered in a pleading and denying voice, "Is it true? You can never talk or sing again?"

There was no avoiding the truth. Solemnly, I shook my head. Lilly and Oliver understood that that meant 'no'.

Lilly was breathless with horror. Oliver looked away from the scene, unable to digest all that had happened.

"But…then Hannah…you…what about…why…you…" She cast around for things to say, but not a proper sentence formed and came out of her mouth. Unable to say anything, she opted for crying hard on my shoulder instead.

With a voice. Hmph. She still has her voice.

The voice at the back of my head reminded me repetitiously.

Oliver walked over to the dining table and joined the rest of the boys, not wanting to watch the sorry scene. Lilly finally broke away from me reluctantly. In a croaked voice, she muttered softly, "Oh Miley, I'm so sorry. What'll happen to you now? What about Hannah?"

A million questions I had asked myself sprung in my mind. The most pressing question was this one: What will happen to Hannah Montana?

I could never describe the pain when I knew what would most certainly happen in the uncertain future: Hannah will join the 'fallen pop stars' lot, and after some time of grieving over the loss of their beloved idol, the millions of disappointed fans would move on and worship some other celebrity. Hannah will fall out of popularity instantly, unable to revive her career anymore. All of my hopes of Hannah were placed on wishing she would stay a great legend for a century or more, the way Elvis Presley was.

I couldn't stop a few quiet sobs, and before I knew it, I in turn burst into a violent by almost silent storm of tears on Lilly's shoulder, releasing some of that excruciating pain made just by thinking of the uncertain future. Again, only sobs and gasps that required no voice came through. Lilly stroked my hair in a comforting way, apparently not being able to say anything else.

The first breakfast after the operation passed with drama. I stayed home recovering from the surgery, unable to eat anything solid for three days, trapped in the prison cell of my mind tormented by misery, an ominous feeling in my stomach all the time.

But on the night before returning to school, I was revitalized. Mom came to me in a dream just like she did before the surgery, and comforted me in a way no one could, not even Dad.

"Miley, get outta there! Don't you want dinner?"

That was Dad calling me from the kitchen. Apparently, he has grown tired of me locking myself in my room all day. But I did not care. I liked being cooped up in here. I was in the middle of a dream, and was speaking to Mom with the voice I once had.

Rather reproachfully, I told her how everything failed in the end.

"Okay, so the operation failed. I cannot be right on everything. But you know what? Remember the last time we talked? Even without your Hannah career, you're still Miley, and you still of terrific friends. You have family, you have friends, and, you still have me."

"Mom…"

"I don't know who you are if you don't know how to steel yourself and face the future, Miley! Have you forgotten your song 'I Got Nerve'? You need to be brave!"

Mom was really good at giving pep talks, even when she was no longer with us physically. I smiled in spite of myself.

"Thanks Mom. You're right, I will stand and face them."

Mom was glowing with pride.

"Atta girl! When you ever need me again, I come to you, okay? Be strong, and be good."

She rubbed my head affectionately, and slowly started to vanish into the distances. I began to feel myself stirring. Soon I realized I was awake.

"Miley, come down for dinner!"

"Coming!"

I was almost glad when my hospital leave period was over, and I had to go back to school.

Morning of the fourth day after the operation came. It was time for school, and I did not want to be late, especially not after that long absence. Dad gave me that whiteboard I had been using for the past week, telling me to communicate through it alongside my miming skills, for I opted not to use hand sign language. (Like anyone understood sign language anyway)

I soon discovered upon alighting Dad's car that the school was buzzing with news of Hannah's operation. Somehow, the press must have found out from the hospital, and after three long days of pressure the hospital people had no choice but to divulge the entire proceedings and results to the reporters. Thankfully, Doctor Meyer did not divulge the secret of Miley being Hannah Montana. That, I swear the press would NEVER find out, if not from me.

"Hey! Did you know Hannah lost her vocal chords?"

"Hannah could never sing again?"

"NOOO!"

"I love Hannah! Why did she do this to us?"

"She collapsed on her own concert didn't she?"

"Rumor has it that she sang too many encores."

Mutterings and rumors flew around the air like bullets. Everyone mourned the passing of their favourite pop star. It was then that I felt truly grateful that Doc had not revealed my secret as Miley leading a double life; if they knew I was Hannah, I am going to be the centre of unwanted attention in school, in the WORLD.

Lilly and Oliver found it difficult to accept the fact that their best friend has become a mute, and that her alter ego, Hannah Montana, was no more. But just like when they first found out I was Hannah, they got over the initial shock rather quickly and now tried to comfort the best they could while trying not to expose Miley Stewart as a mute. The circumstances were too suspicious: Both Miley and Hannah disappear for a while, Miley is revealed as a mute when she reappears, Hannah hits the news as a mute at the same time. Indeed, Rico already questioned the oddness of the situation.

"Hey, angel-face, you okay?"

"She's fine Rico. Just a little sore throat. She won't be talking for a week though."

"Curious! Hannah Montana happens to have lost her voice too! I wonder…"

After giving me a suspicious look, he left for his locker.

Lilly turned to me and whispered, half-panicking, "He might be on to you!"

I glared at her pointedly, trying to say, "Sore throat?! That little devil will definitely find out in a few hours!"

Even Amber and Ashley looked disillusioned. To our glee, they seemed to have lost their usual annoying gusto, and seemed to have put on an absolutely woebegone appearance and mood. They had not picked on anyone for an entire morning, a new record for them.

I discovered that the true inconvenience from being unable to speak is the difficulty of communication. I had to write down what I wanted to say on the whiteboard every time someone spoke to me. I never noticed how many times people talk to you a day, and how many times you have to reply. By the time it was recess, my hand and wrist were tired of all that writing, and I resorted to miming my words. Unfortunately, I found it slightly more difficult to express myself in this way, and sometimes even looked like a fool or clown, as pointed out unceremoniously by Oliver.

Friends talk to you, people talk to you, acquaintances talk to you, teachers talk to you, teachers ask you questions, and you have to answer them. My heart burned with rage at the injustice during biology lesson, with Ms Karen Kunkle in charge.

"Stewart, will you please stand up and answer me this question. Where is the tibia bone in the body?"

I scribbled an answer 'in the shin' on the whiteboard, hastily stood up and flashed the whiteboard at her.

"Stewart, I don't know what are you trying to pull off but will you please stop playing a fool. Now answer me!"

Lilly tried to convince her that I was not fooling around.

"Please Ms Kunkle, she has a sore throat and won't speak for another week."

"I don't care what is wrong with her. Stewart, you could just whisper an answer to me, or croak or whichever you prefer."

I pointed to my shin, trying to answer her anyway.

"SPEAK! Stewart! SPEAK!"

I had no choice but to remain silent. It was not possible to speak in the first place. However, she did not know that. I knew too that none of this about Miley Stewart being mute would play along forever, for a sore throat was not an everlasting ailment. And in Ms Kunkle's class, this ploy would never work.

"Very well, Stewart. It seems you don't know the answer. You will remain standing."

I opened my mouth in protest, making frantic gestures towards Ms Kunkle to justify myself. Lilly and Oliver also began to protest against her decision.

"Ms Kunkle, that's not fair! She can't speak for a week!"

"Truscott, Oken, you do not talk back at the teacher!"

I folded my arms and stared grudgingly at my desk, seething with rage. Ms Kunkle might have noticed the expression I wore on my face, or she might have possessed the ability to read my mind, for suddenly she bared at me from across the room, "I will not stand for bad and defiant attitude in class, Stewart. Off you go to the principal's office!"

My eyes widened; I stared into Ms Kunkle's merciless face as she motioned me out of the class. My heart threatened to explode with anger at that moment. Nevertheless, I was not intent to get myself into even more trouble. In a huff, I stormed out of the classroom for the principal's office, feeling the eyes of everyone in the class on my back.

It was at the principal's office that I divulged the secret that I was mute. Speaking was impossible for me. Ms Kunkle punished me unfairly. But the principal chided me for lying in the first place. He said he was willing to let me off without punishment, but I had to apologize to her for lying and telling her I had sore throat and was unable to speak for a week, when my silence was supposed to last till the day I die. Again, I felt a twitch of annoyance inside me when I remembered that none other than Lilly made up this excuse, and I had decided to play along. I knew this excuse would not last forever.

I returned to biology twenty minutes later, Ms Kunkle leering at me when I entered the classroom. As I sat down and hanged my head broodingly, I wondered how long I would last in school if every teacher did this to me.

Ms Kunkle never called on me again during that lesson.

Rico was starting to REALLY get on my case. Somehow, he found out I was a mute, and began to make wild (but correct) accusations that I was related to Hannah Montana and her problem in some way. Oliver made an attempt to convince Rico otherwise by saying I was so grieved upon hearing the news that Hannah was handicapped that I tore my throat apart in homage to her. Obviously, Rico was not to be persuaded by such a dumb story. It was a matter of time before he discovered the whole ugly truth.

But Rico was not my main worry. The most pressing problem was for Hannah, not Miley. Hannah now had to face the world and tell all the millions of fans and alike everything, from what happened to what will happen in the future. For I knew, Hannah couldn't just vanish after that fateful surgery; people all over the world would start looking for her. It was time to be brave and let the world know that the legend of Hannah Montana was over. And an interview at the request of a TV show 'Tonight's Star' seemed to be the perfect place to do it.

Of course, it was not yet time to reveal the deepest secret about my double life. Shock after another will only cause confusion.

Dad accepted the request to go on tonight's show.

It was after school, and I went home. I opened the door to find Dad talking over the phone. He muttered an "Okay, thanks," and hung up. Quickly spotting me, he told me about the conversation he had just now.

"I just got a call from the 'Tonight's Star' people. You know that show on every Friday night, when they do live interviews with stars."

I nodded.

"I was thinking maybe they wanted Hannah to be on the show after all that fiasco like an army of shepherds looking for a missing lamb."

I snickered and nodded in agreement.

"Do you want to do the show, then?"

To his utter surprise, I nodded for the third time, this time resolutely.

Seeing the fierce and determined look on my face, he asked on, clearly mystified

"You want to do the show?"

I told him through the whiteboard, "We have to tell everyone what has happened to Hannah. That she will never be able to sing again."

Dad thought for a while, staring at the whiteboard, before agreeing.

"Yeah, I think so too. We can't lie silent the whole time. Not when the whole world's looking for us. Let's come clean, what say you?"

I nodded the fourth time.

Dad made the call back to the people at the show and accepted the request to do the interview. He positively radiated with pride the way Mom did last night when he hung up, put down the phone and looked at me, beaming.

"You did good, bud. I'm proud of you."

I nodded happily, beaming back and pulled into a warm embrace with him.

With that, I awaited dusk both nervously and eagerly.

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It took far longer than expected, but I managed to get over my writer's block and re-write chapter 3 in a similar way. This chapter was simply a bridge to the next. And trust me, I promise not to blow up this whole thing like I did last time! Chapter 4 will not be the same. Not when I am thinking over the story deeply. Stay tuned!

Terrorking Tragedian