AN: Uhm, so, basically, I hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. :)

Chapter 9

(No ones POV)

A young woman sat amongst the weeds and flowers of an overgrown, grassy hill. Hundreds of people swarmed the sandy beach below, but no one could hear her. In her lap sat her precious guitar, as her right hand strummed a succession of chords. Out of her mouth came a sweet, yet sad, melody. A few tears were falling from her eyes and streaming down her face, yet still, her smile was seemingly unfazed. From afar you'd think she was crying tears of joy, but anyone who ever knew her, knew they were tears of pain. The wind blew on her face, blowing her hair behind her shoulders and carrying the angelic tune to the ears of a young man climbing over the hill in search of the young woman. The sound of her voice brought tears to his own eyes, but he brushed them away with the back of his hand; she couldn't see him cry. He approached her from behind and settled into the grass of the right side of her. The young woman looked up at him, and stared deep into his eyes. She continued with the song, never once breaking her gaze on him.

"Miley…" the young man whispered when she stopped singing. She continued looking at him, searching his face, hoping for some indication of how she was to start, but he beat her to the chase. "I'm sorry," he continued, a little louder this time, breaking her gaze and turning to face the calming waters.

"Sorry? Nick, you didn't do anything," Miley finally managed to say.

"I'm sorry for making you cry," Nick, said, turning back to face her.

"You didn't make me cry…" Miley started, "it's everything else that made me cry."

"What everything else, Miley? Tell me, please," his eyes pleaded with her.

"You're right, everything you said in that song was right."

"Tell me what's wrong." He continued pleading with her.

"You were only trying to help," Miley continued, ignoring his previous comment, "and all I did was push you away. It's me who should be sorry." Nick just stared at her, unable to find words, so she continued. "I didn't know…I didn't realize that it hurt you that much. I was only trying to protect you," Nick's eyes glazed over in confusion, so Miley explained herself, "I thought by not telling you I was saving you the worry of having to put up with my problems. I just kept telling myself that, but in reality I think I just didn't want to have to deal with the pain it brought me. So, I'm sorry, sorry but being foolish and stupid and selfish and for causing you pain by trying to avoid pain myself. Just, please don't be mad, Nick, I didn't mean it." she finished, meeting Nick's gaze, her eyes now filled with a new kind of sadness.

"Miles, I was never mad at you, and I never could be," his soft voice consoled, "and I certainly never meant to cause you pain, I just wanted to help you, make you happy, ease you pain, but I can't do that if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"And I will, Nick, I will, I promise, just give me time. You have to understand, I've never had to tell anyone about this, they just knew, people just knew."

"What could be so bad about me knowing that wasn't bad about them knowing?"

"I-I-I don't know. I didn't want to lose you, I thought that if I told you, you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore and I couldn't stand to lose another person. And if you didn't leave me, you'd only stay friends with me because you pitied me. I didn't want you to forget about the real me."

"Nothing could be so bad that it would make me leave you, Miles, nothing."

"That's what she said, but she just walked away."

"Who?"

"This girl I knew a few years ago. She was new to the school so she didn't know and no one told her. Eventually I decided to tell her and when I did she was so disgusted, repulsed, or I don't even know, that she stopped being my friend. After that, when I went to high school I just didn't tell anyone, I kept to myself, only my close friends I'd know a while new."

"Miley, Miley, my sweet, sweet Miley. That girl was stupid to forget you because of something that happened in the past. She obviously didn't understand that it's who you are now that matters. Don't let her bring you down, forget her, she's not important. I can promise you that nothing you could ever tell me would make me leave you."

"I know, now I know."

"So are you going to tell me?"

"I-I-I…yeah" Miley stuttered.

"Then tell me," Nick said, wrapping his arm around Miley's shoulder, "I'm all ears."

(Miley's POV)

"When I was young, my parents, if you could even call me that, they, well, they didn't act much like parents. My mum was an alcoholic and my dad was a druggie, though I suppose they were each a bit of both. During the day my mom would be so nice, and kind, but at the end of the day when my dad came home they would both get drunk, or high, or maybe both. I was young then, I didn't know the difference. The beatings started when I was about 3 years old, if I didn't do what they asked, and sometimes they just beat me for no reason. I knew well enough to stay out of their way and do exactly as they said but sometimes they would just come find me and beat me until I was numb, for no reason." I looked up at Nick with tears in my eyes. He was crying a bit too, but he motioned for me to continue, so I did.

"I had a brother, you know, he was 4 years older than me. Whenever they would get drunk he would take me to my room and put on some music and play with me to drown out their shouting. If they called for me, he would go instead, though I suspect that just made it worse. But still, he protected me, he looked after me, he loved me like no one ever has. When I was 6 years old, there was one night that it was particularly bad. I was called down, but my brother went.

"After a while he didn't come back up and I got worried, so I went downstairs and hid round the corner and watched as they beat my brother to death. I cried out when he collapsed on the floor and my dad noticed me. He yanked me into the room and he beat me as my mom looked on, laughing. I don't remember what happened after that, I think I got knocked out. Later someone told me that a neighbour called the police after hearing shouting. The police came and my parents tried to excuse themselves, saying we both came home beaten and collapsed on the floor when they tried to help, but the police took them into custody anyways.

"My parents didn't have a will, and there was no known family so I was sent away to a foster home. The people were nice there and they looked after me, but it wasn't the same. I was taken away from the only home I'd ever known. Sure it was the home I'd been beaten in, but before that started it had been nice. And it was the only place I felt close to my brother, who was now gone. After a while I began to get used to this new home, and I started to like it. I called the lady mom, the man dad and all their kids brother or sister. Life finally seemed to be looking up for me. Then one day it all drastically changed." I was tearing up now, it was hard to continue, but I did, for Nick's sake, he deserved to know the end of the story.

"The lady, my mom, as I called her then, got into a car accident. She died. The man was in despair; he didn't know what to do, he had 4 kids of his own and worked all day. I was taken away from the family and sent to another. For the next 2 years I was shipped from family to family, from house to house, from bad neighbourhood to even worse neighbourhood.

"Shortly after my 11th birthday I was sent off to a new family and a new neighbourhood. This one was the worst yet. The lady was nice enough, but I'd learnt by then not to get attached to another family. The problem was that she didn't have very much money, so we lived in a pretty shabby house in a horrible neighbourhood; it was so dangerous. Once I almost got raped on my way home from a late choir practice, 3 guys attacked me and they…well…yeah…they would've if they hadn't of run away when they heard police sirens near by." I looked over at Nick, his expression was unreadable. It was a mixture of pain, and worry, and concern and then just pure shock. I took a deep breath in and continued,

"A few weeks later, I was standing at a bus stop in the neighbourhood on my way to another choir practice. Just as I was about to give up waiting for the bus and start walking, a car drove by with its window open. The passenger in the car pulled out a gun and shot twice. I got hit in my chest, directly below my heart, and the second bullet grazed the arm of the lady behind me. I collapsed onto the pavement and the last thing I remember is people yelling for someone to call 911. I woke up in a hospital and that's when I got this," I said, pulling my dog tag out from under my shirt and holding it in my hand.

"Hypocardiacprofilia; it's a condition where you're missing a tiny part of your heart. Not the crucial part, just a section of tissue. When the bullet hit me it stabbed into the bottom bit of my heart and when they pulled it out a little bit of tissue came out too. (AN: I don't think it's possible, just go with the flow :P) They replaced it with this kind of fake tissue but if it encounters certain substances it degrades and that can cause problems. Without it I could live, quite easily but sometimes certain things happen and it becomes a problem, it hasn't yet though.

"The police and social services decided this lady's house was no place for a child like me so moved to another family. It was just a man and his wife in this house, a really nice neighbourhood, not too rich but definitely not poor. Also, it was closer to the school I'd been going to since I was 4 and luckily hadn't had to switch out of. This was a good house, a good family, and after a few months I began to adjust, but I was still didn't want to get too attached for fear I'd be moved again. But then, near my 12th birthday, about 9 months after I'd moved in with the family, they adopted me.

"I couldn't believe it, after 3 years of being shipped around someone had finally wanted to keep me. I've been with that family for 4 years now (AN: She's going to be 15 here because I don't want her to be too old) and they've become like my mom and dad. I swore after the woman from my first family died, that I'd never call another woman mom again. But the heart wants what the heart wants, and it wanted to be loved, and this man and woman loved me unconditionally, it felt right to call them mom and dad.

"That movie, the reason I cried so hard is that I remember going to a funeral, the one for my brother and though it wasn't the death of my parents it was definitely the loss of them and it just reminds me every time of the day I saw my brother die before my eyes, and I couldn't do anything." I sighed, finally finished my story. The tears were streaming down my face now and my heart ached with the feeling of loneliness; it's been 9 years since my brother died and it still hurts.

"Miley…" Nick breathed, almost inaudibly. He wrapped his other arm around me and pulled me into a sideways hug. I rested my head comfortable against his chest, my tears drenching his shirt. "Miles, I had no idea your life has been so horrible,"

"No one does know. It's not who I am now, I'm happy now, and sure every once in a while I feel like crying, but look at me! I'm living the dream millions of people wish they could be living everyday. Sure it took a lot of pain to get me here, but I'm so much stronger now. Music got me through the darkest hours of my life, just playing my grandpa's old guitar, the grandpa I never met, and singing whatever I felt. No I get a chance to share that music with the world. How lucky am I?"

"Very lucky, but, how was that not eating away at you inside?" Nick asked.

"I try and forget the past, live in the present and strive for the future. I can't dwell on the bad parts of my life because it won't get me anywhere. I'm not a broken girl who needs to be fixed…"

"You're a broken girl that needs to be understood," Nick interrupted me.

"Yeah"

"And does it feel better, knowing that someone out here knows, and understands you?"

"I didn't think it would, but it does. Now I know, when I feel sad at home, I can call you up and you will know why I'm sad, you'll understand my pain, because you know my story."

"I didn't honestly know that was your story, I figured it was something minor. Never that."

"You know you're the first person I've ever told that whole story to? My friends from school at the time, they're still my best friends now, but, you see, they knew I was moving houses a lot, but they never came over, they never saw the state I lived in. They knew my brother had died and I was taken away from my parents, but they didn't know why. They knew I'd been shot at and they knew I'd been adopted but they didn't know the pain I felt. At the time it was too raw to share, now I can cope."

"I'm glad you told me Miles, I was beginning to wonder if you ever would. I thought I was going to lose you, I saw you slipping away into your tears and the thought that I might have been able to help, but the lack of knowledge stopped me, it was too much." Nick murmured, pulling me closer. I wrapped my arms around his torso, finally felling safe.

(No ones POV)

And so that young woman and man sat together on that grassy hill, their arms wrapped around each other for security. Not security from the outside world, no, but security from their emotions, knowing now that they would always understand each other's pain. The wind was still blowing, as the sun set slowing in the distance. The people on the beach below were disappearing slowly, as dinnertime approached, and the water cooled off in the evening breeze. From afar you'd think they were lovers, enjoying the romantic sunset, but from up close you'd see they were just two mere teenagers, slowly finding comfort in each other.

AN: As you may have noticed, dome of it was in No one's point of view, but the rest was in Miley's point of view, tell me if you like No one's point of view... It won't always be nameless, but I'm not sure which I like better... so tell me in a review and if you like it I might start doing more of it :)