DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned Mitchel Musso. Unfortunately I own neither Hannah Montana, nor Mitchel Musso.

Previously

"Oh, jeez. The Hannah Phone's ringing. Hello?" Miley asked, picking it up.
"Hi, Hannah, it's Jake Ryan."
"Jake Ryan! You don't say!"

Chapter Three

"So, Hannah, my manager wants to get you down to Romania to film the sequel to the episode you were in. He's calling your people pretty soon," Jake stated natureally.

"Cool! I'll try to get down there."

"Mile—My little star... you were great tonight," Mr. Stewart said, rephrasing his words tediously as he noticed that Miley was on the phone.

"Alright, Jake. I have to go. I'll see you later, though."

"Wait," Jake said, making her stop dead. "Your song tonight was really beautiful." There were a few moments of silence before he finished. "Bye, Hannah."
"Thanks," Miley said quietly, hanging up the phone.

"Guess who's starring on Zombie High?" Mr. Stewart asked when Miley had shut off the phone.

"Is it Hannah Montana?"

"No, it's Lola Luftnagle," Lily offered sarcastically. "Who else would it be, Miley?"

"Good point. Nobody's quite as smart or funny or beautiful or talented as Hannah Montana, now, are they?"

"No they are not!" Lily said, snapping in a Z-Formation.

"Hello, you lovely ladies, it is Smokin' Oken," said Oliver, striding into the room.

"Oliverguesswhat!" Miley shouted.

"I'll guess if you talk slower," Oliver muttered.

"Hannah Montana's starring on Zombie High!"

"No way! That's awesome, Miley!" Oliver said, hugging her. "And you, Lola, I'm sure you'll be going."

"Actually," Mr. Stewart said, flipping his phone closed.

"Aww, man! I can't go?!"

"No, you're both going," Mr. Stewart finished. "You're all leaving in two days, and you'll be staying the week. You'll be home late Monday night."

"But it doesn't take that long to film. We leave Sunday, get there Sunday night, review the script from Monday to Wednesday, film Thursday and Friday… we still have Saturday and Sunday," Miley recited, as if she was calculating it in her head.

"You're going out with Jake on Saturday, and you're going shopping on Sunday," Mr. Stewart smiled.

"Daddy, I love you!" Miley shouted.

"Alright, Bud. I love you, too, but I'd rather not spend all night in this stuffy old room. So, if you can get your stuff together, Lola's sleepin' over tonight so you can pick out all your little clothes."

"THANK YOU, DADDY!" Miley shouted.

----------------------------------------------------

"What do you think of this?" Miley asked Lily. She twirled around, wearing a yellow off-the-shoulder shirt and a flowery skirt that matched her blonde wig.

"You're Hannah Montana. You look like you belong in a garden club."

"Fair point. What if I wore this?" Miley asked, holding up a red, one shouldered shirt with metallic and black designs on the front.

"That's cute, but nix the skirt," Lily advised. "How about these?" She asked, holding up a pair of dark jeans.

"Cuute, I like your style, Miss Lola," Miley giggled. "And these shoes?" She asked, holding up a pair of black converses.

"That looks cute."

"What about you?"

"I was thinking that for the flight down, I'd wear this," Lily said, holding up a striped, low-cut hooded sweater and a black oxford shirt.

"That's cute. What color wig?"

"Well, I got this new black one with red highlights. It's really pretty," Lily said, pulling it out of her duffle bag. "See?"

"That's pretty," Miley said, running her fingers through the long, black hair. "I like it."

"Miles, come on downstairs, you've got a recording session in an hour!"

"What, daddy?" Miley asked.

"Sweet niblets, I forgot to tell you! Hannah needs to go record that song she sang yesterday. Everyone liked it so much, they're producing a single CD. Come on, Miles. Get your wig on."

"Well, thanks for telling me, daddy," Miley said angrily. "Lily's coming."

"Alright, Miles, as long as we get there."

----------------------------------------------------

"I miss you, I miss your smile," Miley ended.

"Good job, darlin'," Mr. Stewart smiled.

"You were awesome, Miles."

"Just one more song, Miles," Mr. Stewart said, handing her a sheet of music.

"Daddy, you're joking!" Miley gasped.

"Nope. Go ahead, Miles, we're all ears."

"Oh, jeez," Miley sighed before she started singing. "Girl whales, they're doin' their nails. Girl whales and they don't need no males. Gettin' married wearing white-lace veils, and flippin' and floppin' their big old tails. Girl whales, girl whales, girl whales don't need no males."

"That was awesome, Miley!" Lily laughed.

"Thanks. I'm so excited," Miley deadpanned.

"Well, Miley, you better get ready for your album cover shoot," Mr. Stewart announced. "It starts…" He glanced at his watch. "Right now."

"Hannah! It's so good to see you," Lisa the photographer said, striding into the room. "And Mr. Montana, look at you."

"This is gonna be a long day," Mr. Stewart sighed.

A/N: Now Hannah's pretty much over, and I decided to update. Periwinkle box, you guys! Next update Sunday night or tomorrow morning—since I'm going away for the day.