Author's Note: Took longer than I was hoping, but here's the latest chapter! Time for talking when you're done reading!
Here are my standard disclaimers: I make no claims on any of Disney's, Miley Cyrus', Emily Osment's or Hannah Montana's trademarks or copyrights, and no infringement is intended on them or those of any other artist or publication mentioned. Be forewarned that this story most certainly will contain femslash. If love and affection between two consenting young adults of the same sex bothers you, I suggest you turn right around and find something else to read. Keep any flames to yourself and remember that what our world needs now is more love and acceptance, not more hate. Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated!
We Got Nerve
by Jo K.
Chapter 29: Scarred
If I could have just one night
To be with you and make it right
What we were and what we are
Is hidden in the scars
If I could take you there
I won't let go, this I swear
You won't have to wonder what we are
'Cause you won't have to ever look too far
It's in the scars
It's hidden in the scars
--Miley Cyrus, "Scars"
As she stormed out of Vera Blaike's office, Mikayla slammed the heavy wooden door hard enough to knock pictures off the wall in the next room. One hand held to her face in an attempt to hide her tears, she walked briskly down the hallway on the sixth floor of Dyseni Records. It had always been a long hallway, but this morning it seemed much, much longer than it ever had before.
"Get the fuck out of my way!" Mikayla screamed at two interns who had the misfortune of stepping out of the ladies' room directly in front of her. The two teenagers fell over each other in their attempt to reverse time and never have left the restroom, but Mikayla didn't so much as give them a second glance as she powered past them, her mind unable to process any conscious thought other than the burning need to get away, to get out of the Dyseni building, to simply run far, far away and maybe never stop running.
She took the stairs down from the administration floor, bypassing the elevator and the chance at being stuck inside a steel box with other people and no means of escape. By the time she slammed the stairwell door open into the parking garage, her tears had soaked the collar of her shirt, with dark smudges down her neck from where her mascara had bled along the same paths.
"Morning, Mikayla!" called out one of the Dyseni staff, a chipper blonde who Mikayla wouldn't have recognized on a good day.
Mikayla muttered something unpleasant under her breath, not really caring if the blonde heard her or not. She quickly unlocked her car door, stabbing her key into the ignition and twisting it to bring the powerful V-12 engine in her Aston Martin to rumbling life. She slid the ignition into Reverse and hit the gas, momentarily spinning the tires as she shot backwards out of her parking place; she smoothly stepped on the clutch and shifted into first gear, this time getting the rear tires to break loose in a howling spin as she sent her steel-gray car shooting forward and out of the parking garage.
She kept it under eighty until she hit I-10, then she opened the throttle up. She screamed past a handful of cars, those lucky enough to be on the freeway after rush hour had passed, then she had a blissful stretch of open road for several minutes. She only glanced down at the speedometer once, noting that the needle was hovering just shy of 140 mph before returning her full attention to the highway. As she shot down the Santa Monica Freeway, Mikayla felt her jangling nerves click into place, all her attention focused on the stretch of road in front of her, with no room for second-guessing or replaying the unpleasant events of her morning so far.
A few minutes and just about twenty miles later, she began to ease off the accelerator, slowing to a much more reasonable 60 mph as she approached the California coast and the Pacific Coast Highway. She turned north before doubling back onto Ocean Avenue and heading south. As she passed the Hotel California, she thought again about how much she hated that damn song. She checked the clock on the Vanquish's sleek console.
Nine-forty. Over an hour before that motherfucking therapy session. She sighed, giving one last glare at the surprisingly modest Hotel before the traffic began to move again. There was no way she was getting out of the therapy session, no matter how much she didn't feel like it, but she wasn't in any shape emotionally to deal with the interviews scheduled for the afternoon. Every magazine and newspaper she could think of wanted to quiz her on what exactly had happened on Gladiators. Had she deliberately hit Hannah Montana's knee? Did she do it as a warning that just went too far, or was she really trying to hurt her rival? Why was there so much bad blood between her and the Montanas, and did Dyseni Records support the feud? Had they created the feud?
Mikayla sighed loudly. Too much shit to deal with right now. She picked up her phone, pressing the button to trigger its voice recognition dialing feature. "Fucking bitch," she said loudly, smiling as the phone recognized the phrase and dialed the number it associated with that charming expression.
"Hi, this is Margot. Talk to me after the beep."
"Margot, this is Mikayla. Cancel those interviews for this afternoon. Tell them that I've got a headache or something from busting my ass last night. They can reschedule for tomorrow if they want, or the next day. I just really don't feel like answering any questions today." She hesitated, unsure how much to add to the message. "And don't try to fucking call me today, either, or tonight. I've got some... thinking to do." She hit the End button, terminating the call. She set her phone back down in the cupholder and checked her side mirrors before changing lanes and pulling away from the cars around her.
When Margot listened the message several minutes later, her first feeling was that of concern. Not exactly concern for Mikayla, despite the hesitation and flagging confidence she could detect in the normally arrogant singer's voice, but concern for her own financial future if Mikayla were heading toward another emotional meltdown. Several of the warning signs were popping up with increasing frequency; she should know, after all, since she was typically the one to pull the little brat out of whatever drunken mess or drug-fueled tirade Mikayla was so damn good at getting herself into. This time, however, it might be too much for even Margot's considerable skills to fix. At least Mikayla didn't seem to be drinking or using this time. Every test she had taken had been passed without a hint of trouble; that was certainly a big plus this time around. But it seemed that the feud with the Montana bitches was finally beginning to take its toll on Mikayla, despite all the hate she held for Hannah Montana in particular.
Then there was the fact that Margot was sure Mikayla was keeping secrets from her. What kind of secrets or how many she wasn't sure, but ever since Mikayla had begun her comeback, the younger woman had stood firm on some boundaries. Increasingly Mikayla was beginning to feel that she held more power over Margot than the older woman held over her, and if Margot were to finally prove otherwise and put the little tramp in her place, it would almost certainly be a Pyrrhic victory. Mikayla's career would be over once and for all, and Margot would be without her sole (and quite lucrative) client.
After several slow minutes of deliberation, Margot picked up her phone and dialed one of the numbers she had stored into her cell phone with no identifying names or initials whatsoever. As soon as she heard the click of connection, Margot flatly said, "You know who this is," not waiting for confirmation.
She closed her eyes and steeled herself. "We need to talk."
Across town, Miley and Lilly sat in the reception area of Los Angeles Orthopedics, Miley's knee still in the rigid immobilizer with her leg propped up on a chair in front of her. She hated waiting rooms enough on their own, but having Lord knows how many people hovering over Hannah and Lola Montana while they waited was increasing her irritation level exponentially.
"Honey, take a deep breath," Lilly whispered as she took Miley's right hand in her own, the warmth from Lilly's skin seeping into her own. "They're staring at you because they love you. Lots of them are kids, too. Just close your eyes and relax."
Miley turned to look into her wife's glittering sapphire eyes. "How the heck can I relax when we've had fifteen people ask for autographs, twenty-three wantin' pictures with us, and four wantin' us to sign their casts!" she hissed. Normally she would have better composure, but her knee had throbbed most of the night; the pain had only abated when Lilly took her mind off the discomfort in an extremely pleasurable way early in the morning. A very, very pleasurable way.
"Now that's the pretty smile I like to see on my favorite singer's face," Lilly softly whispered into Miley's right ear. "I wonder what you could be thinking of to put a smile like that on your face..."
Miley's eyes flicked up again, again connecting instantly with her best friend's matching gaze. Now there was a definite twinkle in Lilly's eyes, and Miley knew from experience that her own eyes would be doing much the same. They always did when she thought about Lilly touching her in the intimate ways that only she ever would. "I like your ways of takin' my mind off my knee better than any old doctor's," she said, her voice deeper than its usual conversational timbre. And in truth, her knee wasn't hurting as much now as it had been last night. Maybe Lilly's touch really was magic. Miley's smile stretched into a grin. Lord knows having her in my life really has worked more than one miracle.
"Mrs. Montana?" a voice called out from across the vast waiting room, drawing Miley's and Lilly's attention away from each other temporarily. "We're ready for you now," said a nurse wearing scrubs that were a soft lavender color. "Do you need a wheelchair or anything?"
"Nah, we can make it," Miley said as Lilly helped her to her feet.
"You need me to carry you, baby?" Lilly asked, her voice low but full of concern. She knew that using the crutches last night and this morning was hurting Miley's arms and shoulders, but Miley had insisted on using them when they went to the doctor's office today. Lilly suspected that if today's appointment hadn't been hastily scheduled at the insistence of Gladiators and its network, she and Miley would have been content to simply take it easy at home today. Lilly frowned oh-so-slightly. I could have carried her around back home. Still could here, if I hadn't've been such a dummy when I got dressed this morning. She glanced down at Lola's outfit today: a red-and-black checkered dress with a thin silver belt cinched around her waist, the bottom of the short skirt rising dangerously up her thigh. Yeah, everybody'd get a show if I bent over enough to pick my baby up and carry her to the exam room. Well, at least I've got on those cute new peach panties that Miles got me.
Miley watched the emotions dance across her wife's face, both curious and amused at the internal discussion her wife was having with herself. She signaled the nurse that it would be just a moment, then she returned her gaze to Lilly's cute face in time to meet her best friend's bright blue eyes. "Hey," Miley said, a friendly smile on her pink lips.
"Hey," replied Lilly, unable to help the shy grin pulling her lips back under Miley's loving gaze. "You, um, want me to carry you?" she asked, toeing her bright red leather strappy sandal into the low carpet of the waiting room. "'Cause I can."
Miley looked into Lilly's eyes for a second, then she very clearly looked down at the rather impractical—but altogether adorable—dress that Lola was wearing today. She flicked her eyes back up to her wife's; her tongue lightly licked the corner of her mouth, just the tip poking out for a bare second before it disappeared back inside her mouth. "Temptin'," she said, unconsciously drawing the word out over several seconds.
Lilly felt her entire body shiver abruptly. Whenever she heard Miley do that with her voice and her accent it sent her insides right over the cliff of desire, even after their years of being together. She reached out with her right hand and carefully grasped Miley's upper left arm. "Look," she whispered, keeping her words so faint that even Miley had to lean closer to make them out. "You know that whenever you do that thing with your words when you drag them out like that it makes me crazy," she whispered, lips so close that they brushed the warm skin of Miley's delicate ear. "So you really need to tell me if you want me to carry you or not, because if you say another word to me like that instead, I'm gonna cum right here in front of all these people."
Miley's own heart was already singing in her ear before Lilly's blunt words, and it sped up even more as they settled on her mind. "Carry me, please," Miley said quickly, suddenly not trusting her good leg to support her weight. Lilly smiled and scooped Miley up, glad that at least one of them had thought far enough ahead to wear more sensible shorts.
As Lilly crossed the waiting room carrying Miley easily, several eyes widened at the surprising display of Lola Montana's strength. Truthfully, Miley wasn't really heavy at all, with her and Lilly both coming in at just about one-hundred-five to one-hundred-ten pounds, and Lilly's strong arms and legs could carry significantly more than that despite her own deceptively small stature. Miley simply closed her eyes and buried her warm smile against the even hotter skin of Lilly's throat, reveling in being loved and protected in such an amazing way. "I love you," she mumbled against Lilly's neck, placing a soft open-mouthed kiss against her best friend's smooth skin.
For her part, Lilly just grinned as she felt her body shiver internally at her lover's touch. More than once she had held Miley off the ground while they made love, although they had reduced the frequency after they nearly fell during one particularly acrobatic session that involved Miley pinned against the bedroom wall while sitting on Lilly's shoulders, her dark brown hair brushing against the tall ceiling.
The nurse efficiently checked Hannah in, breaking Lilly's train of thought as the older woman took Miley's blood pressure and made a few notes before wishing Hannah and Lola well and stepping out of the room. Lilly's phone beeped once, prompting her to retrieve it from her glittery black clutch purse.
"Who's that?" asked Miley curiously.
Lilly tapped her way to the message. "Jen," she said, reading the text message. "She wants to know if we know anyone who's really good with computers. Says she's in the market for a new computer."
Miley thought for a minute before saying, "Lu's really the best I know of. I mean, that's what she does for a livin'."
"Yeah, that's who I was thinking of, too," Lilly replied, nodding ever-so-slightly. "Okay, I'll tell her and give her Luanne's number."
"Might want to give Lu a heads up," Miley said, dangling both her legs off the side of the examination table but only swinging her healthier leg back and forth in Lilly's direction.
Lilly tapped out the text, finally looking up at where Miley's bare foot swung just short of kicking her in the head. "Do you mind?" she asked, trying not to smirk.
"Only when I'm bein' good," Miley tossed back with a saucy smile.
"Oh really?" Lilly said, uncrossing her legs and standing up. She moved closer to Miley, close enough to trap Miley's legs against the table. "And just exactly what else do you do when you're 'bein' good'?" she teased as she leaned her mouth in closer to Miley's.
"Mmmm," growled Miley as their lips touched, pressing firmly against each other as they kissed deeply. "Well," she said against Lilly's lips, "I think you might like me when I'm bein' bad even better."
The door opening drew both girls' attention but was insufficient to make them release each other from the tight embrace. "Oh!" gasped the young nurse who walked in on them, obviously not expecting the sight awaiting her.
"It's okay," Lilly said with a smile. "We're married."
"Not every day the parents get to go out without our little girl," Miley added. "Got to make the most of it when we get it."
"Yeah, you'll be getting it," Lilly whispered in Miley's ear, sending a cold chill down her back. "When we get home."
The nurse fanned herself with the slim chart she was carrying. "Um, the doctor wants to get an MRI of your knee, Mrs. Montana. Come with me please?"
Lilly saw the hint of fear in Miley's steely blue eyes. She quickly took her best friend's hand and held on tightly. "I'll be with you, baby. It's okay." She squeezed to emphasize her point, which in turn prompted Miley to offer a brave if weak smile in return.
They followed the nurse down the hallway, Lilly supporting Miley's injured side as they walked, then another hallway before stopping at a door marking Imaging. The nurse opened the door, then motioned for Miley and Lilly to follow her in. They did so, but Miley stopped short when they stopped next to a large machine with a cylindrical opening in the middle.
"This is one a' them tunnel things, right?" Miley said uncertainly as she turned her back to the machine and leaned against the flat table extending out of the cylinder.
"Honey," Lilly said, taking both of Miley's hands. "It's okay," she said, pouring as much calm as she could into the mysterious link between them. "I'll be right here, baby. I'm not ever leaving you."
Miley closed her eyes and leaned forward, burying her face in Lilly's shoulder as she began to quietly weep.
Lilly looked over Miley's shoulder at the nurse. "She hates these things. She got stuck in one when she was really young and it took two hours for them to get her out."
"We can load you in feet first, Mrs. Montana, if that helps," the nurse said, her voice pitched softly in an attempt to not upset Miley any further.
Lilly nodded politely. "That'll help a lot, thanks," she said. She began taking off her own belt and kicked her shoes off. "I need to get your belts, hon. They've got metal on them, so they need to come off." As Miley silently complied, Lilly helped tug her two thin belts out of her shorts, handing them along with her own belt and shoes to the nurse. She tenderly removed Miley's earrings, leaving the woven necklace with beads in place since it had no metal components. Finally she took her own hoop earrings out, depositing them on the tray provided for jewelry and adding their wedding and engagement rings.
"None of your items leave the room," the nurse told them as she carried them to a large storage container on the far side of the room. "This locker is magnetically shielded, so everything will be just fine in here while we run the scan. We'll be fast, I promise."
Miley nodded and wiped the tears that were running down her cheeks. She hopped up onto the table and lay down as Lilly helped her get properly positioned. When the table began slowly sliding into the MRI tunnel, she couldn't help but start crying again as she tightly clenched her eyes shut. Immediately she felt Lilly's warm lips on her forehead, whispering encouragement and support to her. Miley reached up and squeezed Lilly's hands as the dull clanging of the scanner started, and for the next twenty minutes she focused on nothing but Lilly's warm grip, her tender murmurs of love and the fiery caress of her wife's lips across her face and head.
When the terrible clanging noise of the machine slowed and finally stopped, Miley was shaken up but still lucid. As soon as the table had been taken out of the MRI tunnel, she slowly sat up. She saw that Lilly's own eyes were red and slightly swollen, and she felt terrible. Lilly had shared all the love and comfort that she could with Miley, and all Miley had shared with her was fear and misery. "I'm sorry," said Miley as she leaned in and pressed her forehead and against Lilly's, rubbing their noses together briefly.
"It's okay," replied Lilly with an honest smile. "I tried to take as much of it as I could away from you. That's why it hit me so hard."
Miley felt her bottom lip quiver at Lilly's admission, and she silently cursed at herself for having such a ridiculous fear.
"Don't."
Miley looked up into Lilly's glistening eyes. "What?"
"I said, don't." Lilly's gaze was serious, boring into Miley's eyes. "Don't try and blame yourself for this." Before Miley could protest, Lilly said, "I know you too well, Hannah Montana, remember?" with a warm smile. "You always try to be so tough and 'I-have-it-all-together', and when something doesn't cooperate with that image you feel guilty."
Miley laughed, aware that no one had come into the room yet. "When did you get so darn smart?" she asked her best friend.
Lilly reached out and gently touched Miley's nose with her left index finger. "When I kissed you for the first time," she answered. "That's when I started to figure my life out."
Miley hugged her best friend as tightly as she ever had, not wanting to ever let go. "Me too, girlfriend," she said through tears of happiness. "Me too."
Roughly an hour later, Miley and Lilly left the Orthopedics office. Miley's knee turned out to not have any damage to the cartilage or ligament, just a bone bruise on the patella and quite a bit of swelling around the knee. The long immobilizer she had been given was only slightly better than the one placed on it last night, but it did offer more mobility while still preventing much of the pain from walking.
"I think you healed me last night," Miley said without preamble as Lilly helped her into their electric blue Roadster.
Lilly leaned down and kissed Miley once she was snugly in the passenger seat. "Oh, really?" she asked teasingly. "Do you want another session tonight?"
"Well, duh," Miley replied, fastening her seat belt as Lilly closed the passenger door. When Lilly took the driver's seat, Miley turned to her. "I'm serious, Lilly. I really think that my knee hurts a lot less today than it did last night before we made love."
"Well, you sure popped that kink out of my back last night," Lilly said, casting Miley a grin as she started the car. "What was that song about 'sexual healing'?"
In another part of Los Angeles, Mikayla was speeding down the road to her dance studio. Things had gotten so bad lately that even dancing didn't give her the release it used to; it had become impossible to clear her mind of everything she was dealing with.
She frowned. Well, there was one way she could clear her mind, for a while at least. But she refused to give in to the weaknesses of her past. She had made a promise.
Angrily, Mikayla cut the wheel and hit the gas, sliding the read end of the Vanquish as she hit the parking lot of the dance studio. She pulled up to the front of the studio, not bothering to park in a marked space. Why should she? Everyone knew who drove this car, and everyone also knew Dyseni Music paid the salaries and bills for this studio.
She went inside with her usual disregard for all others, ignoring polite greetings and whispered insults alike. She went directly to her private locker room and changed, grabbing something to drink and her mp3 player and then stepping into the large dance room she used. This time no one else was using it; as soon as her car had been sighted, the dancers in this room had been given notice to clear out as quickly as possible or face Mikayla's wrath.
She started the music playing and began to warm up, but as she stretched her leg along the rail, she found herself staring into the mirror. Mirrors were nothing new to Mikayla; anyone as vain as she was—and she was vain, she would proudly admit—was intimately acquainted with every mirror she passed by on a regular basis. But as she stared into the dark eyes that so relentlessly bored back into her, she felt a feeling both unfamiliar and unwelcome.
"Who the fuck am I?" she asked herself softly.
"You're you, Mikki. And I'm me. That's all we need."
Mikayla shook her head as the distant memory came rushing back into her consciousness, Kasey's smiling face as bright in her mind's eye as if she was standing next to her today. Kasey had told her that on Mikayla's fourteenth birthday. They had been talking about the future, and how they wouldn't let the music industry change them.
We were so fucking stupid. And naïve. We had no clue what was waiting for us. The parties. The alcohol and drugs. Jake Ryan. Margot. The...
The night when everything changed.
"God, Kasey, I miss you so much," Mikayla said as she turned and slid down the wall below the railing. "I miss my best friend. I miss my..."
What had Kasey been, exactly? Her girlfriend? Well, yeah, in one way. But was Kasey a girlfriend in a deeper way? True, they had never kissed or been intimate with each other—at least not that they knew of. Things tended to get a little hazy back then when they were partying. But they had definitely been through more shit than most "best friends," and they were always there for each other. They spent nearly all their waking time together, and they had been comfortable sleeping in the same bed since they were five. When exactly did the line between friendship and more get crossed?
"I'm not gay," Mikayla whispered to herself, clenching her fists tightly. And she knew that she wasn't gay, not exactly. She had always been strongly attracted to boys and men, never to girls or women. But at the same time she couldn't deny that she had carried intense feelings for her best friend, feelings that might have run deeper than she had realized. Feelings that might have grown into something much stronger over their adolescence, had they only been given more time together. Maybe those feelings might even have grown into love, had they been given a chance to blossom fully. But that chance had never come. And it never would.
Mikayla sprang to her feet. She ran to the room's small stereo system, roughly yanking it off the shelf. She grabbed the handful of wires threaded to its back and ripped them out, then she took a running head start before flinging the stereo across the rehearsal room and into one of the mirrored panels lining the walls. The brief seconds of silence from the stereo's disconnection were shattered first by the crunching of impact and then by the crashing of glass onto the hardwood floor, punctuated by the crash of the stereo hitting the floor in between. Mikayla turned and walked back to her locker room, oblivious to the shouts and rapid footsteps approaching the room. She had had enough practice for today.
Lilly and Miley drove back home in Lilly's obsidian Roadster, enjoying the view along the Pacific Coast Highway as they kept a modest pace. They had immediately traded Hannah's electric blue Roadster for the more subdued black of Lilly's in their private garage as soon as possible, then they had hit the nearest Sonic for milkshakes before setting off for home.
Lilly kept thinking that there was something she was forgetting, something she was missing as her mind kept coming back to the previous night's events. Something that Mikayla had said either during the show or immediately after it that was nagging at her subconscious. "So did you ever spend any time around Mikayla before, Miles?" she asked Miley.
"What, you mean a long time ago?" Miley said, turning to face Lilly and brushing her windblown hair out of her face.
"Yeah, like before we were dating."
Miley thought briefly before shaking her head. "Nah, she was a bitch then just like she's a bitch now."
"I know you said she was bad, but was she really this hateful when we were younger?"
Miley shook her head. "Lilly, the first time I ever met her, I thought we might able to be friends. I introduced myself and tried to be nice, and she told me that she wasn't interested. Then she went on to brag about how she was gonna take all my Hannah's Fannahs away from me, because she was the next big thing."
"That's just so odd," Lilly said after a few moments of reflection. "I mean, that time you introduced me to her on the set of that movie she and the Jerk were filming, it seemed like she tried to be nice to us."
"Probably because they were screwin' back in their dressin' rooms every chance they got and she wanted to rub it in my face," Miley said flatly. She turned to look at Lilly as old guilt, thick and bitter like congealing motor oil, began to bubble up from deep inside. "I'm so, so sorry that I put you through everything I did with that loser, Lilly," she said as she reached over and took Lilly's right hand. She tenderly kissed Lilly's hand time and time again, not stopping even when a single tear struck the back of Lilly's hand, splashing salty drops onto Miley's lips.
"Miles, honey, you don't have to apologize for what happened in the past any more," Lilly said gently. She knew that even now Miley felt true remorse for the emotional roller coaster Lilly had been on for years due to the on-and-off-again relationship between Miley and Jake Ryan. But remorse was understandable; guilt was not. Not at this point. "You already apologized to me a long time ago, Miley, and I told you then that I forgave you the second you asked me to. Don't feel guilty about the past, baby, not when we've buried all those bad memories under so many wonderful, amazing, beautiful ones we've made together."
Miley looked up at Lilly, smiling lovingly at her wife, who was surprisingly wise for such a young age. "There's a song in what you just said," she said knowingly.
Lilly returned Miley's smile. "I love it when I inspire you to write a song. It makes me feel extra special."
"That's because you are extra special, baby," Miley said, running her long fingers through Lilly's lightly curled blonde hair. "Hey!" she said suddenly.
Lilly jumped at Miley's exclamation so close to her ear. "Hope that was worth putting out the hearing in that ear," she said to Miley, a hint of teasing audible in her words. But when she turned to glance at Miley, she saw an expression on her wife's face that she knew all too well. "Oh no," she said. "No, no, no! I know that 'I've got a plan' grin, Miley Truscott! I've seen it five hundred times!"
"And you've gone along with it five hundred times, too," Miley replied pointedly.
"Hey," Lilly said, flashing Miley her own cheery grin, "you've got a really cute butt. What can I say?"
"Uh! I thought you always had my back because you loved me!"
"Well, that was part of it. But mostly your hot ass."
Miley shifted in her seat, pointing her rear at Lilly. "Is it still as hot?" she asked, quite enjoying teasing her wife.
Lilly nodded, trying not to laugh. "Honey, your ass is still hotter than the sun."
Miley sat back in her seat, a smug grin on her face. "Well, it's good to know I still got it," she said with a content sigh. "But seriously, I just realized that I do know somebody who might remember Mikayla from back then. She used to party like there was no tomorrow. Still does, from what I hear." Miley started texting furiously, oblivious to Lilly's interest.
"Well?" Lilly finally asked. "Are you gonna tell me who it is?"
Miley looked up. "I'll introduce you to her tonight, if I can track her down," she said confidently.
Several hours later, a white limousine pulled up outside PAX, one of the wilder nightclubs in Los Angeles. Like pretty much every club in the city, PAX catered to celebrities. In the limo, Lilly gently unbuckled the sleeping Brooke from her carseat as Roxy got out and went inside. "You sure this is a good idea, hon?" Lilly asked Miley.
"Roxy'll make sure that nobody's smoking in there, then she'll come get us. That way we don't have to leave sweet little Meg."
Lilly smiled as she rested their daughter against her shoulder. "Megan Montana," she said softly as she began to rock gently. "I wonder if she'll be a singer like you?"
"She might be an actress like you."
"Or she might do her own thing," Lilly pointed out. "Whatever she does, she'll be amazing, and we'll love her."
"Absolutely," Miley agreed, kissing Brooke's head with a lingering press of her lips.
Soon Roxy was knocking on the window, waving for them to step out. As Miley slid out first, the crowd waiting in line to enter PAX began to whistle and shout. When Lilly slid out, being careful to keep her legs together as she held Brooke, the shouts became cheers and applause. Lilly covered Brooke's head with one of her soft blankets, hoping that it would muffle enough of the noise to keep from waking their daughter up.
As they entered the club, Miley noted that it wasn't as loud as she and Lilly had feared. It had been illegal to smoke in nightclubs in California for several years, and Roxy steered them clear of anyone in violation of that regulation. They quickly were ushered back into one of the large VIP rooms, into what bore more than a slight resemblance to the set of an actively filming adult movie.
As Lilly grimaced and checked Brooke where she rested beneath the thin blanket, still snoozing peacefully, she gave Miley a look that plainly said, This better be for a good reason.
Before Miley could say anything, a young blonde with wild, tousled hair uncurled from when she was sitting between two men on a long couch. She stood up and crossed the room, a smile on her face. She was several years older than Miley and Lilly, but she was still beautiful, and sex appeal radiated from her like heat from an oven.
"Hi Hannah," the blonde said, purring over the name before turning to Lilly. "Mmm, and this must be your lovely Lola. God, she's hot."
"Lola," Miley said quickly, "I'd like you to meet Kesha Sebert. Kesha, Lola." Miley then slid a hand in front of Kesha's face, cutting off her view of Lilly. "And she's my wife, Kesh. Plus we have our baby with us, too."
"Oooh," said the older blonde, smile brightening. "Too cute! Can I see her?"
Lilly wasn't sure that was the best idea, but she needed to get the blanket off Brooke in case she was getting too hot. "Sure," she said, using her free hand to tug the blanket off her baby. "But she's asleep, so please don't wake her up."
Kesha's lips pursed into an O-shape as she saw the sleeping girl. "She's beautiful," she said with a whisper. She looked back up into Lilly's eyes and whispered, "You're amazingly lucky, you know." Seeing the confusion in Lilly's blue eyes, Kesha added, "For having her," jerking her head toward Miley. "Hannah's always been one of the best in the whole industry. Honest, faithful, no drugs, no fucking..." She turned to look at Miley and said with a straight face, "How did we ever meet again?"
Miley laughed once, and even Lilly giggled at the joke. "We met because my dad had worked with you, and he got you to help with two of my songs when I was younger."
"Yeah, your dad was hot too," Kesha purred, the sex kitten surfacing once again. "Did you bring him with you?" she asked curiously.
"Nah, he's back home in Tennessee," Miley said. "Hey, we wanted to ask you a few questions if you don't mind."
"Sure," replied Kesha. "Let's go into another room if that's cool with you two. I wouldn't want your baby..."
"Megan," Miley volunteered.
"...Your baby Megan to wake up in a room full of these fucking perverts," Kesha finished, waving her hand in the direction of the half-dozen people on the room's two couches. She stepped out into the hall and walked down to another room. This one was empty, although it appeared to be fully furnished and ready for occupants. "This one is reserved for later," Kesha said teasingly. "For whenever I stop playing around and want to get serious."
"Well, um, thanks for letting us talk here, then," Lilly said, once again feeling slightly out of place. Judging from the unusual fluttering sensation Lilly could feel in her chest and the matching sensation she knew was in Miley's chest as well, even Hannah was out of her element here.
Once they were all seated comfortably, Kesha looked at Miley and said, "So what's on your mind, Hannah Montana?"
Miley took a look at Lilly, getting a smile of support in return. "Well, Kesh," she said as she turned to regard the older blonde again, "how much do you remember about Mikayla from when she used to party with you?"
Kesha laughed loudly for several seconds. "Honey, Mikayla never really partied with me. She was a fucking disaster waiting to happen. When she was younger she and her girlfriend tried to tag along with me and my crew, but after—"
"Whoa," said Lilly. "Did you say girlfriend?" she asked, eyes wide with surprise.
Kesha nodded. "Yeah, kid's name was Kathy or Kasey or something like that. She and Mikayla were inseparable, always sorta clinging onto each other without trying to be obvious about it. Kinda like you two, actually... well, before you came out and stopped hiding it." She smiling, gesturing at where Miley and Lilly were holding hands without either of them really aware of doing it.
Miley leaned forward, closer to Kesha. "So you think that maybe that girl and Mikayla were..."
"Well, fuck, it was just a guess, but that's what I had always assumed about the two of 'em, you know?" Kesha said as she sat back, crossing her fishnet-clad legs. "And when Kathy-Kasey-whatever got killed, it sure fucked Mikayla up. That's when she started drinking, hitting the coke, you know, doing some heavy shit."
"What happened to her?" asked Lilly. She was vaguely aware of her mind working in the background, like testing mental puzzle pieces against each other to see if they fit together. "Mikayla's friend, I mean."
"Car wreck," Kesha said. "Never did hear all the details, but from what I did hear, they had been at a party that night, and that Mikayla's friend was pretty hammered the last anyone saw her. Heard Mikayla was with her, too, and that she watched her die."
Miley and Lilly turned to look at each other. "Do you think they were...?" Lilly asked softly.
"I don't know," Miley said quickly. This wasn't a subject they needed to analyze in front of anyone else. "Kesha, thanks a bunch," Miley said, standing to give the slightly older blonde a hug. "I owe you one."
"How about letting me borrow—"
"Not a chance in hell," Miley snapped. "My wife and I are both off-limits. And aren't you straight, anyhow?"
Kesha grinned. "Yeah, but a girl's gotta keep up appearances, HanHan. You know that. Shit, if I actually drank and smoked and screwed like people think I do, I'd have been dead a long time ago."
"Thank you," Lilly said, altogether more comfortable around the eccentric singer now. She was still entirely different from Lilly and Miley, but she seemed to have a good heart beneath all the glitter and glam.
"You're welcome, hot stuff," Kesha said with a smile. "Get that baby home and put her in bed. She doesn't need to be hangin' out here with us."
"You got it," Lilly said with a smile before replacing the blanket over Brooke's head so Roxy could lead them back out to the limousine.
As they hurried out of the nightclub, eagerly hoping they could avoid any embarrassing paparazzi shots of them taking their daughter into a club, Lilly stayed right on Roxy's heels with Miley directly behind her. None of them spoke until they were safely back into the limousine, when Lilly finally turned to Miley and said, "That was different."
"Told you it'd never be boring bein' my wife," Miley responded with just a hint of sass.
"Mmmm," Lilly hummed as she finished buckling Brooke into her carseat and then leaned against Miley's shoulder. "Lucky me." As Miley's arm wrapped around Lilly and held her tightly against her chest, Lilly sighed happily and instantly fell asleep in the most comfortable place in her world: her best friend's arms.
As night wrapped its arms around Los Angeles as well, Mikayla stood in a familiar cemetery, in front of a familiar headstone. The rain that was drizzling around her didn't register in her mind other than when she tossed her long hair back over her shoulder, flinging droplets of water away from her face. "I figured it out, Kasey," she said, keeping her voice low. She hadn't seen anyone else out tonight, but there was no need to draw attention to herself just in case some creep was wandering around the cemetery at night. She took a long look around, then she knelt down in front of the dark stone.
"It really hit me today, when I went to go dance. I couldn't even get started, because when I was stretching I looked into the mirror. I... I really didn't like what I saw."
She sighed. Even though she was here by herself, it was hard to put her thoughts into words, to vocalize what had seared itself into her brain earlier today as she looked into those empty dark brown eyes in the dance studio mirror. "You know, at first I hated you," she admitted. "For leaving me to do all this shit by myself. But then I realized that I couldn't hate you, so I starting hating myself. But you know how that went, right? Jesus, I was here almost every time I got drunk.
"And don't start with trying to tell me not to hate myself, okay?" she said, raising her voice as she looked directly at the name carved into the dark granite. "It was my fault that you got killed. I left you when I caught you in bed with Jake at that party. I never gave you the chance to tell me that you had passed out and that he was pretty much raping you because you couldn't fight back." She laughed once, bitter and without a trace of humor. "Yeah, the asshole admitted it to me finally. When he told me, I kicked him in the balls, then I hit him in the fucking face. He deserved more, but I was too messed up to do anything else except sit down and cry. And feel sorry for myself. I did that a lot, too."
Her bottom lip began to tremble as more unwanted memories of her past surfaced from the dark depths of her memory. "But I guess I did some shit to him that was worse, huh? At least he never knew about it; thank God for that. That was something I only ever told you about, Kase."
With the rain, Mikayla's tears were invisible to any observer that might be watching her, but she knew every single one that ran down her face by the sting each left behind, a ghostly trail that still burned like acid. "You know, when you told me that you were fucking furious at me for having the abortion, I had thought for just a second that you were passing judgment on me like everyone else in my goddamn life." But that wasn't why Kasey had been so mad.
"Damn it, Mikki, you can be so fucking stupid at times!"
That was what Kasey had said right after she had found out. But she wasn't mad because of abortion being some sin or "immoral choice" or any bullshit like that. No, that wasn't you, Kasey. Instead, she had been mad simply because Mikayla hadn't told her before making that decision all by herself.
"Mikki," she had said as she hugged Mikayla tightly, "we're gonna get through this, girl. Because I'm not letting you do this alone. And if you had come and told me before you went and did this, I wouldn't have let you do it, because I'd have been right here with you, to raise that baby. You'd never have had to do it alone, Mikki."
"You tried to tell me, so many times," Mikayla said, sobbing softly. "But I was always either too busy chasing something else or just too fucking stupid to hear what you were trying to say to me. And now it's too late for me to tell you that—" She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the wet, slick stone of the monument.
After crying for several minutes, she concentrated on catching her breath. It was still California, but it was late in the year and the nights had been noticeably cooler for the last week. While it wasn't cold enough to see her breath in front of her, it was definitely cool enough for a shiver to pass through Mikayla's increasingly soaked body.
"You know—" she started, but a sudden gasp made her words catch in her throat. She tipped her head back, letting the rain drops strike her directly on her face as she composed herself again. "I finally realize that this is why I hate Hannah Montana so much," she said, leaning her head forward to once again stare at the rivulets of water trickling down the dark granite headstone. "It's not so much that I hate her for being gay. That was never anything more than just a really convenient target to go after her. It's not her talent either, because I'd fucking kill to have her singing voice and her vocal range." No, it was much, much more simple than that.
"It's the fact that she has her best friend with her, and I don't."
It hurt to say out loud what she had finally understood, but in a way it felt good, almost like a release, much like she had to admit she had a problem with alcohol and drugs before she could ever truly get clean.
"I think that Hannah and I are a lot more alike than I ever realized, at least we were in the beginning. And maybe if I had a father who loved and supported me rather than beat and ra—"
Don't go there, Mikki, not now. I'm barely holding on as it is. She pushed past that hornets' nest of memories with force of will that came easier every time she drew it forth. "But I think I could have made it past that too," she said quietly. "If I had you with me like she has Lola with her. Whether we were just friends or turned into something more, I just..."
The tears and emotion overwhelmed her, and she sagged to the ground, sitting on her rear with a wet squelch. "I just need you with me, Kasey," she said through the sobs. "I just want my best friend back, goddammit!" she yelled up into the rain. "GIVE HER BACK!" she screamed at the leaden gray sky, voice raw and throat burning against the strain. "GIVE HER BACK!" she cried again and again. Finally she slumped forward, curling up on the sodden ground, her strong voice reduced to a faint whisper lost amidst the patter of falling rain.
"Give her back, please."
Author's Afterword: It's really weird how this story adds and takes away from different plots as I write it down. I honestly had no intention to use Kesha in this story other than use one of her songs as the intro music for a chapter, but things just sort of built to use her as a logical link between Miley and Lilly's world and Mikayla's party world. I also didn't really want to make her some one-dimensional tramp, so I wrote her more like how I think she'd be in the Lileyverse. I suspect she's got more brains to her than she acts like in the mainstream world, too.
I really felt for Mikayla while I was writing this chapter. She can see the life she's built around her falling apart, and it's terrifying. Even since I started this story, I've been fascinated with how her career and Hannah's are like dark reflections of each other. How would Miley have turned out if Lilly had been the one killed early in her career, for instance? There have been some good stories exploring that very concept, but from what I could visualize in my 'verse, I think she'd be even worse off than Mikayla. Cutflowers has done some truly amazing work on this very subject, and I highly recommend reading cf's Amissverse stories if you'd like an idea of just how devastating losing Lilly would be to Miley.
Okay, once again, please have patience with me. I think that Miley's new album has re-energized my writing, and hopefully Emily Osment's full album will fuel this power surge even more when it's released. Until then, hang in there. We're getting close to the end of this story. I love all of you, and thank you for coming along on this story with me. I'll see you soon!
Jo