To the people who have stuck with me since the very first chapter and left reviews, faved, alerted, here is your long-awaited chapter. I'm sorry you had to wait so long, but it takes time for it to develop, you see? I won't say much, except that I had fun writing this one particular chapter =) Oh, and things move pretty quickly here. But it's not rushed, but it's quick...yea...whatever.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana or any of it's characters.
P.S: You can skip the first part, it's just the same from the intro chapter. Just wanted to let y'all know ;)
P.S.S: Sorry I didn't have enough time to get to your comments. I was busy with school...
Miley's hand was starting to cramp after signing eighty-three pictures, which she counted exhaustingly in her head. Her mouth was hurting from smiling too much at one sitting and her voice is getting hoarse from saying the same sentence repeatedly.
"Hi, how're you?" she'd say, caring less of what they'd say back.
"Oh my gosh (or Ohmigawd), I am a huge (or big) fan of yours," they would start. "I love your song, 'insert-song-title-here!' I, like, listen to it every single day of every single moment. "Then they would give her the copy of the Hannah Montana picture with shaky hands and hold their breaths.
"Thanks, it means a lot to me. You are the best!" Hannah says as she rapidly writes down, 'Rock on' or 'Be true to yourself (which Miley laughed to herself)' or any other inspirational crap people find interesting coming from an international pop star. Then she completes it with an 'xoxo, Hannah Montana' and a "Thanks, I hope you'll stay for the concert (that also comes in with a charming smile)."
The fan standing before her starts to hyperventilate and nearly faints. Her manager calls in the next anxious fan and it start all over again.
"Oh…my…god. You-you-you…you-you-you're…"
Miley smiled as she braces through the fan's struggle to say her name. "Hannah Montana," she finished for her. She looked behind the girl's back to see how much longer she has to sign. She nearly broke the felt pen in her hand as she saw almost millions of people waiting in line…And Jake…with Mikayla. What were they doing here?
"Marge," she pulled her manager's shoulder down. "After this one, I want done," she seethed to her ear. The mid-aged red-head nodded and turned around to talk to the bodyguard standing next to her.
Miley smiled back to the fan and finished up her last signing routine. She heard the fans whined in disapproval as she goes backstage to wash off and relax. Maybe go over and talk to that stinkin' two-time cutie with that bees-weez of a bitch, Miley thought harshly to herself.
Walking over to the sides of the stage, Jake calls out to her with Mikayla in tow. Damn it.
"Hannah, honey!" He starts and Miley has no other choice but to approach the couple. "Wow, big movie and CD promo, nice," he winked at her. Miley tried not to let her knees go weak.
"Yea, thanks. I thought you were out in Europe for filming?" Miley jumped down the stage and the trio started to walk down the path in front of them
"Yes, I am, but I wanted to come and support you." And you just had to bring in the lovely Mikayla? "And Mikayla wanted to come over to congratulate you, too! So we came here together. Hope you don't mind," he finishes with a grin.
Yes, I do mind. "No, of course not. All are welcome here. Thanks for coming, Mikayla." She offered a hand, but the black-haired girl smirked evilly at her. "Yea, so…" She let her gloved hand drop back to her side.
"Hey, do you guys want drinks? I'll go get some. Be right back." And there Jake left the two rivals alone. Of course, he doesn't know that they hate each other, really, so Miley couldn't blame him. But she can partially blame him for just leaving her at the restaurant the week before. Right before she was about to pop the question to him and left her hopeless. Miley hated to think about it, but it came on coming back to her.
"So, Hannah, trying to steal my fans again?" a high-pitched voice interrupted her thoughts. "Ha, like you're actually going to keep them for good now. Like you really can anyways."
Miley crossed her arms and jutted her hips. "Don't go sassing me like that, you little weasel. What're you doing here with Jake? He's supposed to be in Europe filming, and you're supposed to be in…hell."
Mikayla scoffed and flipped her hair. "You wish. I met him at the airport and the news about your promos came up, so we decided to come. Of course, if you're thinking that I just wanted to so you that Jake's all mine again, you're right. Oh, did he forget to tell you? He's filming with me again." Mikayla smirked as she checked her nails with cheek in tongue. "I'm just here to tell you if he hasn't."
The blonde scrunched up her nose and refrained from pushing the black-haired girl to the fountain behind her. "Oh, thanks then, because, for your information, I don't like Jake anymore. And I never did."
"Oh really, because I thought you had a thing with him?" Mikayla laughed teasingly. "So I guess that means that you did love him? I'm guessing you still do."
Miley was close to punching her square little face and send her straight to the lit fountain. But, like she was trained to control her emotions, Miley held her clenching fists to her sides. Instead, she started to raise her voice to her. "Okay, that's it. I don't love Jake, nor will I ever! Now stop assuming things about things you don't know! The girl who loved Jake was Miley, not me. Miley is a close friend of mine and she confides in me about everything. Where'd you hear crap like that from?"
"She's my best friend! How would you even know? She hates you just as much as I do, conniving little –"
"Whoa, ladies, ladies." Jake came in between them and held them off. "Ladies, you're making quite a crowd."
Miley took in a breath and stepped back. "Right, right, I'm sorry. That was wrong of me to do that." Mikayla scoffed and took Jake's arm and led him underneath the back porch of the bar. Jake resisted and stood his ground next to Hannah.
"Miley," he whispered to her ear, not wanting to let the crowd to hear what they're saying. "Calm down."
"Jake, how can you bring her here? You know I hate her!" Miley tried to find suitable excuses.
"How should I know? You never told me anything! You never tell me anything!" Jake squeezed her elbow as a sign of anger. "You never told me that you still love me. I thought we were over that! Miley, we aren't even together anymore!"
So the news hasn't reached him yet. He still doesn't know that she wanted to propose. Miley clenched her jaw and sniffed. "I never tell you anything?! You never told me that you're filming with her again," she spat back. "You're a liar, Jake Ryan."
Jake glared in one moment, and then smirked in the other. "So, you still love me, huh?" he tried to change the subject.
Miley could not believe that she sees something in a guy like him. "Jake!" She ripped her elbow off his grasp. "I don't know what I see in you…" she stomped off back to the stage, everyone looking at the scene unfolding in front of them. This was a side of Hannah they've never seen happen in public, other than the gossip that's been going around on paper.
"Miley, wait, I'm sorry. Yes, I guess that was wrong of me to do that and I'm sorry that I bailed on you last week. I didn't mean to, but my manager paged me at the last minute that the flight had been moved up." Miley didn't buy it. "Look, can't we just forget about it?" Jake took her hand and led her down the steps of the stage. The crowd tried to look around and tip-toe their way around the bodyguards who were blocking their view of a perfect angsty teen show. "Miley, what was so important about last night?"
"Jake," Miley sighed. After a history of ups and downs, Miley was getting a bit fed up. She just wants Jake to notice that she's right there in front of him. "It could have changed everything."
Jake was taken back. It seemed like he knew what Miley meant, but really he just didn't. He couldn't, even if he tried. "I'm sorry, but I just can't, okay? I," he mumbled, "I love Mikayla. I'm sorry. I love you, too, but, it's just…"
Miley should've known this was coming, but she went with it anyways. Lilly was right, even if she didn't even know what she was talking about. "Save it. I know." Sniffling, she made her way towards the fountain, near the bombarding fans who're trying to get close.
"Miley," he whispered. "I'm really sorry." Mikayla ran down and held his hand and snuggled on his shoulder.
She can't feel bad now; it's near Showtime. She needs to act quickly and save herself from embarrassment. Walking her way towards the fans' area, in which they screamed louder, she hastily starts to hatch up a plan.
"Y'know, Mikayla, you maybe one lucky girl," she lied through her teeth, "but I'm an even luckier girl." She glanced over to the hand that she's holding behind the blocked area. Please be a guy, please be a guy, she pleaded. For a good looking guy (okay, so he was wearing a mask that covered half of his face), he sure does have some smooth hands. Hurriedly, she pulled the random young man through the bodyguards' big set of arms. "In fact, I have him, my big bowl of yumilicioius." She cuddled with the man's head and patted his chest. Huh, for a guy's head, he sure does smell really good, almost with a hint of passion fruit mixed with Axe. And he's also a bit short. A bit short meaning nearly a whole forehead shorter than her. Whatever, he's still a guy.
"Who's he…?" Jake pointed out as he and Mikayla stepped in closer. "Isn't he a bit…short?"
"Psh, maybe some random fan. I mean, look at her: she's desperate!" Mikayla glared at Hannah and the lost young man.
"He's not some random fan," Miley patted his shoulder and rubbed his chest. "And he's not short." She gulped as she knew what she has to do next. "He's my fiancé. We're getting married in a few weeks." She turned around and pulled the man closer to her. Slowly, she leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips. She finished off soundly, but kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the faces of the people around her or the person who's holding her. For a guy, he really does have soft lips. And they taste like coconut and vanilla.
I have to open my eyes, I have to. I'll apologize and I'll tell him the rest of the –
Miley wished she didn't open her eyes. She wished she didn't look down directly into the pair of bright blue eyes staring back at her, because she knew who they belonged to.
"Oh my god," she muttered under her breath. "L-Lilly…Truscott?"
A mortified look washed across her face, along with her throat becoming dry. Did she, did she just kiss Lilly? It's not like she's never kissed girls before (she has, a few times, here and there), but Lilly…She's her maid! She's her stuck-up, arrogant little maid!
But god…did she just think that Lilly as a male, was handsome? She grimaced inwardly at the thought. Was it really Lilly? Her chin and jaw line was rough, like a man hasn't shaved since morning. Self debating to herself while cameras clicking and flashing here and there doesn't really help if she's looking helplessly to the 'man' in front of her.
A familiar nudge pushed passed her and instantly Miley tightened her grasp on the blonde boy's smooth, small hand and shielded her face from the flashing lights and accusing microphones. Rushing through the paparazzi who were taking every single shot of the now newly made couple that just happened in front of them. Miley heard a shrilling voice go past her, telling her to get inside the bar's green room. Was it Marge? Or was it one of her bodyguards who were pushing her and her new man through the bustling crowd? She was certain it was Marge.
The smell of strong liquor and smoke filled her nostrils as she suppressed a cough. The green room's door swung open and Miley and the 'man' she kissed were pushed to the couch a few feet away from the door. In an instant, the door slammed shut and the sound was still ringing throughout the small room.
Fuck, what the hell did I just do? Miley cursed under her breath. She turned to face the corner and slowly walked to it. God, how could she act so rash in front of hundreds of people?! Her life is now screwed, thanks to the jealous part of her body. No, thanks to that two-time stinkin' cutie and that bees-weez of a bitch Mikayla.
From inside the room, she could here muffled questions being yelled at from the other side of the black door. In return, she could here Harry and his bodyguard buddies using their deep voices to scare them off.
"Did you just realize that you just kissed me?" That voice…it scared the crap out of Miley.
Hesitantly, she turned around gulped loudly. Her eyes didn't meet the 'man's' face, but only to his shiny, formal shoes and the bottom of his black slacks, or more like black denim jeans. Miley didn't know which one. But that voice, she knew who it belonged to.
"You do realize that you kissed me, Lil –"
Miley quickly interrupted her before finishing that sentence. "Don't even dare finish that sentence. Just," she heaved a sigh, "just be quiet." Her vision started to feel fuzzy, white flashes started to appear in the corner of her eyes. Another headache started to take a toll on her head, just like the one she had the other night.
"Oh…" Lilly stayed seated on the leather couch and remained quiet. She didn't even dare to question the pop star when she's in a mood like this. This was different than the one's she had seen back at home. She seemed…scary. It's more of a 'Don't-mess-with-me-or-else-your-ass-is-going-to-get-whooped…Real-badly.' Yep, that kind of scary.
The door clicked open and both of them held their breaths. It was the other door. Thank god.
"Excuse me, Mister," Miley's manager pointed out, "but you're going to have to step into the other room right now." Marge took the masked person by the arm and pushed him in the room, locking its knob. Stan stood behind her, breathing heavily, his face all red again, just like last night. "Alright, Miley, tell us; what the hell were you thinking?"
"No, Miley, this is outrageous!"
"I know, I'm sorry, but I –"
"I cannot believe you would act so rash –"
"Do you know how this could ruin your life?! You are –"
"– and just last night you were going to propose to Jake, then –"
"– hurting your image, Miley! How in the world could you even think –"
"– now, here you are, macking on with some guy, who I know that you yourself don't even know –"
The faux blonde shook her head frantically, dropping down on the sofa. Her managers were starting to kill her brain! Shut up, she wanted to say, shut up!
"Alright! I know what I did wrong, okay?!"
Both Stan and Marge stopped and closed their mouths. Marge crossed her arms and Stan put his hands in his pockets, both with an amused and stressed look on their faces. "Continue."
"I-I let my feelings get in the way. I wasn't thinking things through…"
Sighing loudly, Stan walked over to the pool table. "Miley, as much as I hate to say this, you caused this, and you're going to have to solve it on your own. So tell me, how're you going to do it?"
Miley remained quiet, closing her eyes, looking away towards the room where Marge pushed Lilly into. Mentally she shook her head, but she dared not to do it in front of Stan.
"Your scandals are making me stress out Miley. You should've learned your lesson by now! How long is it going to take before you are seriously going to damage your career?" Miley stayed quiet and Stan continued. "Do you know what's going to happen after this? The movie ratings are going to go down. Your CD will be a bust." He firmly slammed his fist on the pool table making the balls and Miley jump. "Then what was the point of working all day and night, huh? Is that what you want to do? You just want to lose it all?"
"Why, all of a sudden, is there a marriage? Miley, you were just going to propose to Jake Ryan! Now, as Hannah, thinking you guys are just two different people –"
"We are two different people!"
"– is just going to work out by saying you will marry that guy in a few weeks?" Stan raised his voice, angered that Miley burst out her statement while he was stating his points. "Marriage is big business! It's not something to be taken for granted! Do you even know this guy?" Miley rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Well, say something!"
"Well, look on the bright side," Miley spat. "There won't be any more tabloids about Hannah every single week."
And with that, Miley stood up and walked towards the other room, where it was connected to the parking lot, and where Lilly was staying at the moment. Her car should be there. Unlocking the door, she pulled Lilly by the arm and dragged her out to the lot. She was right; her Prius was sitting right next to the cylindrical column near the exit.
"Fine then, if that's the way it's gonna go, I'm putting up a press conference on Tuesday!" Stan's voice echoed through the empty lot as Miley heels clicked against the concrete floor. Lilly looking around, quickly went inside her car and wore her seat belt. She had a gut feeling that the ride back home was going to be bumpy.
So much for the concert and movie promo…and her hopeful job opportunities.
----------
Miley didn't know what to do. It was either she wanted to A) punch the wall repeatedly until a large hole is made, B) flip and throw the mattress on the floor, hard, or C) scream her lungs out until her throat becomes raw and she can't be able to talk for months. But she didn't do anything. She wanted to burn that stupid wig that was lying openly on the carpet floor. It was because of that stupid wig that brought her to this point. She should've listened to her dad, but no. She just had to make her own choice and not let her dad take control of her life. Why did she have to be so damn stubborn?
Taking a breath to let it digest to her slowly, she started to undress. Her clothes smelt like cigarette smoke and a few hints of sweet liquor. She thought back about her unlucky kiss with the 'male' Lilly. How the hell did she even get Lilly of all people? Why did she even dress up like a guy? Wait a sec, why was she even there in the first place? She was supposed to stay at home and clean the whole place! Miley specifically remembered that she told Lilly right at the face not to go to the party. That bit–
"Hey!" The door swung open as Miley was about to unclasp her bra. Automatically, she reached for her shirt to cover herself.
"What the hell are you doing here? Ever called of knocking?" Miley uncomfortably tried to tie her shirt around her torso.
With an angry face, Lilly set her hands on her hips. She was still wearing the suit, but her facial disguise was all gone. "We're both girls! Come on!" Lilly shook her head, looking at Miley who was awkwardly standing with no pants or shirt (only underwear), but only her sleeveless shirt trying to cover both her privies.
"Just get to the point! What do you want?!"
"Let's talk Hannah Montana–Miley Stewart," the shorter girl started with a firm voice.
"What's there to talk about? Get out of my room!"
"Wha-What? You think there's nothing to talk about? Are you serious? Explain to me what just happened earlier! Or did you forget about that already?" Lilly pointed out, sticking her chin out. Miley glared at her and said nothing. "Are you serious? You-you…What happened earlier, you've got to tell me what's going on. Now. I'm not the kind of person who would do whatever you want. I'm not a pushover," she stated. "I, Lilly Truscott will not –"
"Let's get married." Lilly shut up in an instant. Her heart stopped beating for a good three seconds. "I'll hire you as my husband when I'm Hannah." Miley pulled the shirt over her head in front of Lilly's blank face.
Did she hear right? Did she say she wants to get married? Lilly struggled to get the words out. "Are-are you kidding? I'm a girl! And even if I was a dude, why would I marry you?!" she screamed at her face. "I can't stand your obnoxious, moody, PMS-ing attitude! I don't even like you as a person! You're such a drama queen!"
Miley spat back just as strong. "You're loud, naïve, and dirty. I don't like you either!"
"Oh, well, good for you! Now you've just stated the points on why we can't get married! What the hell are you on drugs or something?"
The taller girl crossed her arms. "Think about it this way; it'll be easy once we get a divorce." Easy? Hell, they won't even get along. It'll be easy as pie. Why'd she say that then?
"Divorce?"
Scoffing, Miley turned to face Lilly down. "What, you think we could play husband and wife for the rest of our lives? Live together for the rest of our lives?" The brunette folded her pants. "I'm sick of Stan telling me what to do all the time. I'm sick of the stupid tabloids and scandals I'm in on every week." She placed her hands on her hips and said all in one breath, "I'll pay you a salary and give you alimony once we divorce."
Lilly muttered under her breath, "She's out of her mind…She has to be on crack…"
"I'll give you the house once we're done," Miley offered. She saw the other girl's neck whip around with big eyes. "Think it over carefully and decide." Both girls stood there, shooting death glares at each other for a good minute or two. Then Miley broke the silence and said, "Now get out of my room!"
----------
If this was the way Miley wanted to go, fine. She still doesn't know what was going on, but if she were to get 'married' with her and dress up as a guy just so she can get the house back into her hands, she will do it. Anything to get the only thing that was part of her past.
She slammed the stapled stack down on the kitchen table in front of the other girl. Lilly made the list last night, right after Miley pushed her out of her room. She didn't sleep until two in the morning, and then to only get four hours of sleep.
"So," Lilly crossed her legs under the table. "This will be a contract marriage. After all, you made a deal with me that you are going to give me back the house. So, I made a contract list last night." Her blue eyes watched Miley closely as she picked up the sheet of paper and skimmed through it. Miley looked up to see Lilly staring directly into her eyes.
Lilly smacked her copy of the list in front of her and started to say what was on the paper. "One, we will respect each other's privacy. Two, we won't demand physical intimacy –"
"Like I would want to," the other girl scoffed.
"Don't interrupt and I mean it: no PDAs, no touchy-feely, no infatuation allowed what-so-ever." Lilly gave her the eye when Miley suppressed the urge to cough out her laugh. "Hey, I can be likable," Lilly shot back. "Man or woman." Lilly mumbled something under her breath about some high school fling, but shook it off. "Three, the length of the marriage will last six months, no more than that. If less, better." She cleared her throat and resumed. "Four, upon divorce, the house owner's name will revert back to Lillian Truscott."
Finally done with the four points, she needed to take a breather from all the hard work she did. For Lilly, staying up so late in the morning trying to figure out what Miley was pulling on her and what she should include on the list was hard. "There, any objections?"
Miley sat up straighter, facing her body towards Lilly. "Every single time I go out as Hannah, you have to go out dressing up as a man. Just like your costume from last night. The exact same thing." Miley saw Lilly with her tongue in cheek. "And if this arrangement is revealed to anyone else, meaning other than the two of us, it will be invalid and the person responsible will be held until she can pay back all the money and for the trouble she has caused." Miley got her only part of the deal, and that was to keep the whole 'contract marriage' thing between them. If word got on the street that she did this and got married with a girl who dressed up as a man, her life would be officially over. "Got it?"
Lilly nodded, "Yea."
Pens scratched against the table as the two signed their signatures on the lines made on the paper. They switched and signed each other's papers, just so both could have proof that they agreed to do so. Lilly put her pen down and extended her right arm across the white kitchen table, in front of Miley's face.
Confused, she raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?" Lilly shoved her hand in front of her face. Rolling her eyes, she looked away and shook it anyway. Some deal, eh?
----------
Miley "Hannah" looked at herself in the full length mirror. Her blonde hair was crowned with braids, letting it connect on the back of her head. It was a bitch to get it right with the wig. Her dress was poofy (but not as poofy as the other ones) and it went at least two inches above her knees. She had one of her big buckled belts wrapped around her waist, to show off her slender figure. Her top was bright and vibrant, but not neon, just the way she likes them made. Her body was there, ready to present, but her mind…was still wandering.
Jake and Mikayla…she should've seen that one coming. Was she so blind that she didn't even notice how idiotic Jake was? Or how stupid she herself acted in front of hundreds of people?
Was this her karma? Is this what she's getting after a year or two of working her ass off making songs and a movie? It just wasn't fair.
A small knock came from the door. "Ms. Montana, are you ready? The press is waiting."
Stretching her muscles and cracking her joints, she opened the door gave the suited security guard a small smile. "Your fiancé is waiting for you near the doors."
Oh, right. Lilly. She almost forgot this was about the confirmation of them wedding in a few weeks. How much sillier could this get? She got a new suit for her, one designed by Armani. It was sleek black with a skinny gray tie to make her feminine figure look more masculine and taller. Although, she was complaining that the corset she was wearing underneath the suit was starting to suffocate her, and Miley resisted the urge not to tease her.
"Strange, huh?" Lilly's voice interrupted her thoughts. Miley did a double take to see what she meant by strange.
Whoa.
"You like it?" Lilly puffed out her chest slightly and held her suit jacket tightly. She turned around slowly to show Miley. "Looks cool, eh?"
She gulped loudly and shut her eyes tight after she noticed how long she was staring at Lilly's male alter ego. 'He' almost looked like Chace Crawford! The thick eyebrows, unshaven five o' clock shadow and sideburns that could almost set a square jaw, striking blue eyes, the thick 'hands-should-be-ruffled-through' dirty blonde hair…The only difference was that 'he' was a lot shorter than the real Chace, less muscular, the nose was not as pointy as Chace's and no dimples.
Miley shook her head. No, it's still Lilly. It's still Lilly, she repeated. "It's just a disguise," she mumbled, only a bit loud enough so that Lilly could hear it.
In turn, she scoffed and looked away, but then to only give death glares at her. "It was a bitch to put this on, y'know?" she pointed to her chin. Miley bet it did, but stayed quiet. Instead she gave her a look to stay quiet.
"I don't know Miley, but I think he looks pretty good."
She jumped from where she was standing and groaned. "Damn it Marge, stop scaring the shit out of me."
"Well, I don't see why you're complaining, that boy is fine. I really shouldn't have blamed you then Miley," she whispered the last part. Marge walked past between Miley and her fiancé and gave him a small wink. Lilly scrunched her eyebrows.
"Did-did she just –"
"Come on." Miley trudged past Lilly, making her follow suit. "Remember, lower your voice and don't speak unless you're being asked." Lilly nodded and whistled to get the tension off her body.
"You guys ready?" Marge asked, clipboard in hand, headpiece in ear, and hand on door knob, getting ready to open. Both of them nodded. "Okay, have fun."
As the beige door slightly creaked open, Miley shoved her arm under Lilly's arm, linking their arms together, and began to pull Lilly with her towards the swarming cameras that flashed in front of them. Like a pro, Miley waved and smiled to them, but unlike her, Lilly tried to open her eyes. She began to sweat under her collar as the lights and cameras flashed and snapped pictures of them walking over to the table. She felt like she was beginning to go blind, since the only thing she saw opening her eyes was pure white light with slight yellow rays.
Someone jerked her forward, and Lilly automatically brought her hands forward to prevent the person from tripping and falling face first on the floor.
A soft "Awww…" distinctively came from behind the photographers. But really, Lilly thought, it was kinda loud.
Lilly wrapped an arm around the singer's waist to bring her closer and to not let her trip over the cables again. Smiling, she took her hand and carefully led her up the stairs. Miley said to be convincing, right? Well, this was as convincing as it was going to be.
"You may ask your questions as soon as Hannah and her fiancé are ready." Marge winked over to Miley, giving her a small nod. Even her personal assistant manager didn't even know the boy's name. How did Miley even know this guy? Then what about the Jake problem? Was that just a hoax? Marge stayed confused in thought, but kept quiet, watching the couple.
"So, mystery man, would you mind introducing us who you are?" One of the reporters started. Obviously, the question was directed to Lilly and Miley became nervous. Both of them had their hands on the table, fingers intertwined together, since people could see if they weren't holding hands underneath the table, or on the table. Even the littlest things, people make such a big fuss. Of all the things she has to do to make it believable…
"Oh, well," Lilly replied in her deep voice. It sounded silly, but she and Miley had to practice the pitch the whole night, making sure it was at the right tone. It made her throat feel scratchy and she complained, then Miley yelled at her for being such a wimp, then Lilly got angry and it sparked another argument.
"I'm Lill –"Lilly stopped midway. She felt Miley starting to clench her hand. Of all the things they practiced to show for today, they forgot to make up a name for 'him!' "Lil' Ian," Lilly improvised. Miley squeezed her hand tighter and she could begin to hear the bones in her small hand starting to crack. Lilly tried not to yell at her face in front of so many people.
The reporters gave them a look. Why was he so afraid to tell us his name?
"I'm Lil' Ian," Lilly laughed. She squeezed Miley's hand just as strong. Waving it off, Lilly chuckled, "But you can just call me Ian."
"Yep!" Miley ripped her hand away. She wiped away the clammy feeling and set it down on her lap. "Yea," she laughed nervously, "that's my nickname for him, ha-ha." The reporters and Marge shot up an eyebrow and looked around. "Y'know, because of his height and such. He's my cute Lil' Ian." Miley faced Lilly who was thinned lipped. "But yes, his name is Ian."
A few of the reporters laughed along with the joke. Miley breathed out uneasily while Lilly glared at her from the corner of her eye. "Tell us, how long have you been together? How did you guys meet?"
"Ah well," Miley cleared her throat. "We've been together for awhile now, I can tell you that." She watched Lilly lazily smile to the press. "We actually met in an airplane, First Class." This was so not how Miley wanted it to go. Lilly's smile went away in an instant.
"Oh, really? Care to elaborate on that?"
"We were sitting next to each other and we did the ol' meet and greet, except he was a bit cranky," she whispered. The crowd chuckled and Lilly knitted her eyebrows together. "I asked him if it was his first time flying in First Class, he nodded. He isn't much of a talker, you see." Miley smiled nervously while Lilly was clenching her jaw. "And well, when the airplane started to liftoff, he began to tremble in fear and –"
"Ahaha!" Lilly intervened. "Yea, that…I'm uh, I'm not really a big fan of heights, let me just clarify that." The photographers laughed and Lilly whipped her head towards Miley, eyeing her to stop the story.
"Yep, and I held his hand throughout the whole flight," she quickly concluded. Lilly really tried hard not to kick her on the shin.
"That's sweet," the blonde male reporter commented. Lilly smiled, but her eyes were still glaring at Miley. "This question goes to Mr. Ian. For a woman who is worshipped by millions of men," (Lilly rolled her eyes inwardly), "what do you think makes you different from all the rest of the guys?"
Lilly gleamed, "Of course, it had to be my looks." Everyone laughed. "But the real reason, I really don't know."
"It's probable that he wouldn't know," Miley huffed. "He's loving, caring, compassionate, and he never likes to argue." Lies, they both thought to themselves, all motherfucking lies. "I think we make a very peaceful couple." Yea, right.
"The wedding, it seems kinda rushed. Any reason why? Is it a shotgun wedding?" A few cameras stopped clicking and the rest anticipated the answer.
Lilly spat out the water she was drinking back into her drink. Shotgun? How was that even possible? Lilly wanted to laugh at the thought. Miley pregnant? Dear god, she already has enough mood swings even if she's not pregnant!
"No! No, dear god, no!" Miley blushed in embarrassment. "It's nothing like that." She laughed. Her hand went up on the table and intertwined with Lilly's fingers. "I love this guy. I feel safe around him. He looks out for me and takes care of me, and I'll do the same for him. We trust each other and we want to protect each other." Bullshit. A bunch of freaking bullshit, Miley thought to herself. "He really is the one!"
"Is that why you wrote "He Could Be the One" on your CD album?"
Miley nodded, but mentally shook her head. "Yep, pretty much." She glanced to her left where her future 'husband' was sitting. Smiling curtly, she saw the accusing stare Lilly's giving to her.
"Any more questions?" Marge asked from the podium. Some of the reporters shook their heads and but a few photographers asked if they could take a few pictures of Hannah and her new beau. "If that's alright with them," Marge pointed out to Miley that she should make the choice. She nodded her head. "Alright, go ahead!"
Lilly and Miley walked around and stood in front of the table. Awkwardly, Lilly loosely held the other girl's waist, while Miley leaned most of her weight to Lilly. She put an arm around her padded shoulders and put a hand on her stomach, trying to show them that they are affectionate. How much more uncomfortable could it get?
"How 'bout a smooch for us?" One of them asked. Apparently, it could. The rest of them nodded and started cheering them on for a kiss shot.
"Eh, we aren't really big fans of PDA," Lilly tried to recover but Miley cupped her cheeks. She felt her breath on her own lips, lingering the space between them. Just let them be, the singer barely whispered, closing her eyes. At least that's what she said, Lilly thought dizzily.
Boy or girl, no one's ever kissed like this a long time. It was different? She thought. Much softer was more like it. Closing her eyes, Lilly responded to Miley's chaste kiss. She lifted her chin to get more, but Miley pulled away before it could lead into a bad show. It's just for publicity, nothing else.
"Wow, now that's what I call a kiss," Marge muttered under her breath. A couple of photographers grunted and nodded. "Some smooch…"
Lilly still felt a bit dizzy after all the flashes and the kiss given. Both were not a good combination, that's for sure. She and Miley were now in their separate rooms changing into casual clothes. Unfortunately, for Lilly she still has to where the disguise. How can one person breathe right when wearing a freaking corset?
Six months, Lilly, six months. Then, you'll get the house back. Six months. That's a really long time.
----------
Miley hesitantly dropped off Lilly back home, since Miley has to do some phone interviews. She unlocked the door and dropped her duffel bag onto the glazed concrete floor. God, she was tired as tired could get. Thankfully, she could breathe better since the corset was out.
"Yo, Lils! How's it goin?"
Holding her breath, Lilly closed her eyes. Please be a dream, please be a hallucination! Nope, it's not.
"Jackson?! What the hell are you doing here?!"
----------
The doors to music shop squeaked open and the beeper beeped loudly as the customer passed by. "Hey, welcome to Guitar Center!" he always heard his employees greet to them. The sound of electric guitars squealed in ecstasy as the basses thumped in different beats. Chaotic rhythms of guitars, pianos, basses, and drums were the sounds of great business to him.
Sighing in content, he kicked back in his chair and began to play with his guitar. Strumming the chords, his assistant knocked in and told him to turn on the TV. He said something about unbelievable news from the music world.
"And welcome back to E! News! Our reporters have just recently been to a very important press conference that included the international pop star Hannah Montana and her new beau. Here, we have an exclusive scene from the interview."
Standing up, he looked at his HDTV screen to see and hear closely. He gaped and dropped the guitar on the floor.
His baby girl's getting married?!
Lil' Ian...Where do I come up with this crap?! I'll tell you, I have no clue. Maybe it's those sleepless nights...I've been planning to use that "Lil' Ian" vs "Lillian" name thing for a long time. And so I just did right here. Funny how it fits. Y'know, Lil' Ian vs Lill(ian)? Yea, that's kinda lame.
And the Chace look-alike thing...I don't know where that came from either. Maybe it's cuz I have that "People's" Magazine of SUMMER'S HOTTEST BACHELORS 2009 sitting in my room. And Chace's face was right there on the cover. Just my imagination gone wild.
Also, shotgun wedding? This sounds lame, but I just found out what the definition of it is just a few days ago and I decided to use it here.
So, here's a possible hint of the next chapter (don't get TOO excited): Wedding tiemz? Review please?