It had taken him the better part of a day, but the hospital had finally been convinced by the legal representative of the Cash Airlines Pilots' Union that one of its patients, Miley Ray Stewart, was finally well enough to be released by the hospital to the care of her family.
Miley, now dressed in a white shirt, blue jeans, and a comfortable pair of sandals that Lilly had brought over the night before, had just finished paying the bills, and was walking out of the hospital when she was met by the legal representative of the pilots' union himself, Cory Baxter.
"Cory!" Miley said in surprise. "What are you doing here? And where's Dad?"
"Your father called me and asked if I could pick you up," Cory replied. "He said he had an unexpected errand to run; that's why he's not here right now."
"It's probably to bail Jackson out of prison again," Miley sneered.
"Hey, Miles, don't talk about your brother like that," Cory warned her. "It could very well be your ass that ends up in jail. A lot of people are calling for your arrest ever since someone let leak that Tommy Bagration was trying to get your blood inadmissible as court evidence."
"My blood, huh?" Miley went silent as the two of them walked over to Cory's car.
"Yes, your blood," Cory replied. "Good God, Miley, what were you thinking? First you went and had sex with Beck—while under the influence of alcohol and drugs, might I add—and then you reported to the cockpit while you're still hung-over, and quite probably still a bit high. It's a good thing we got you and Beck and the drugs out of the papers, but I still gotta ask the question, Miles. Why?"
"What can I say?" Miley stammered. "We lost to Belgium. Emotions were high. We couldn't help ourselves."
"Unbelievable."
Miley and Cory finally arrived at Cory's car. "There we are," Cory said. "You can put your bags in the back if you like."
"What the heck is this, Cory?" Miley asked, staring dumbfounded at the car.
"It's my car," Cory replied. "What's wrong with it?"
"What's wrong with it?" Miley repeated. "It's a freaking Declasse Voodoo, man! Did you know, Cory, that everyone who sees someone driving a Voodoo automatically thinks that the driver is an onanist?"
"So what?" Cory said. "I've always wanted a Voodoo ever since I first saw one when I was a kid. Besides, my CLK and my Rolls-Royce are in the shop at the moment, so it's literally the only car that I have right now. And why would I care if someone thought I was an onanist? The nerve of those people!" Cory took out his phone and began scrolling through something on the screen.
"O-N-A-N-I-S-T," Miley spelled out.
"Thanks, girl," Cory muttered. He finally stopped scrolling, and then his eyes widened as he understood what Miley had just called him. "I do not use coitus interruptus!" he said angrily. "Why would I deny my seed to the women of the world?"
"Of course you wouldn't, Cory," Miley said. "I know that. But do the people that see you driving the Voodoo know that?"
Cory sighed. "You got a point, Miles," he said. "Come on, let's get this over and done with. Thanks for ruining my good mood today, Miles."
"My pleasure, Mr. Baxter," Miley replied in a fake British accent. Cory turned on the car, and he backed out of the parking lot and onto the road.
"Mind if I turn on the radio?" Miley asked.
"Sure, go ahead."
Miley turned on the radio. It was tuned to a news station, and the blaring tune that announced the coming of breaking news was playing. Finally, a human voice spoke up and said, "Yet another Malaysia Airlines jet has fallen from the skies, and this time there's no doubt as to where it has gone down. Recent reports say that Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17, flying from Amsterdam to Kuala Lumpur, has been shot down by what appears to be pro-Russian separatists operating within eastern Ukraine. All 298 passengers and crew onboard are believed dead. This tragedy comes just five months after the disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight 370, and almost two and a half weeks after the crash of Cash Airlines Flight 4892 right here in Los Angeles."
"There goes another one," Cory said in reaction to the news. "2014 is not looking like a good year for the aviation industry, is it? Yeah, that's gonna cost the airlines money."
"Why does everything always have to be about money for you, Cory?" Miley asked. She shook her head and said, "I can't listen to this. I've had enough of air crashes for now." With that said, she tuned the radio to another station, this one playing some kind of pop-rock music.
"So, back to your place?" Cory asked.
"No, I was thinking about going back to Malibu, actually," Miley replied.
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, Cory, I'm serious. I wanna go to Malibu, and not my apartment."
"Any reason for it?"
"Nothing much, except that I think it's time that I got back in touch with my family."
"Yeah, I think you're right, Miles. You really should be trying to get back with them."
Miley's separation from her family, while not being an actual rift, had grown some through the years after her decision to quit showbiz and become a pilot. But while the root of it may have been personal, Miley's work as a pilot for Cash had also given her its fair share of problems. The long hours, oft-irregular schedules, shifting time differences, and quite possibly a lot of unspoken thoughts and problems had added up into something that had kept Miley from keeping in regular contact with her family and friends, and soon it had felt like her life was now divided into two distinct periods: the Hannah Montana period, and the Cash Airlines period.
Miley and Cory spent the rest of the drive in silence, thinking their own thoughts while soft music played from the radio. Finally, Cory made what could quite possibly be an illegal U-turn, and he parked the Voodoo beside the driveway of a large house. "We're here," he said.
Miley looked up at the house that had been her home for three or four years; the best and worst three to four years of her life. It was during those four years that Hannah Montana reached the peak of her career. It was also during those four years that Miley Stewart had found true love, or so she thought. On the other hand, it was also the time when Miley had started to grow tired of living the double life due to a combination of rapidly approaching college life and what Miley had called "stage fatigue." Eventually, Miley decided that she had had enough with fame, and she made the decision to become an airline pilot instead. Once she had been hired by Cash Airlines, she had bought an apartment closer to the airport and then moved out of the house. In her mind, it was also a metaphor for her moving away from Hannah Montana into Captain Miley Stewart.
"Hey, Miley!" Cory shouted, bringing Miley back to the present. "Are you gonna keep staring at your house like that or are you gonna actually go there?"
"Piss off, Baxter, I'm reminiscing here." But Miley still walked up the steps to the house and rang the doorbell. Almost immediately, it opened, and behind it stood Jackson Stewart, Miley's brother. "Miley," he said. "It's been quite a while since you last dropped by."
"Yeah, well, I decided to drop by because I've got nothing else to do at the moment," Miley replied. "So, did Dad have to bail you out once again for breaking yet another restraining order or what?"
"You're one to talk about jail, Miles," Jackson said. "Back when we were still living in Tennessee, you hid in the trunk of Uncle Earl's car and almost scared off the sheriff's deputy when you pointed a gun at him."
"That was an accident, Jackson! When I saw the sheriff's car coming, I jumped into the trunk, and then I felt one of Uncle Earl's guns poking my ribs, so I tried to move it away, but then my finger got caught in the trigger, and then the deputy opened the trunk, and I almost pulled the trigger at him! Man, we were both lucky to be alive then!"
"Yeah, right, Miles, your finger got caught in the trigger…"
"Jackson!" a voice shouted from deep within the house. "Who's that at the door?"
"It's Miley, Dad!" Jackson replied. "Her and the airline lawyer."
Robbie Ray Stewart, Miley and Jackson's father, walked over to the front door. "Jackson, why don't you go on over to the kitchen?" he said. "I'm cooking something over there."
"Sure thing, Dad," Jackson said, knowing that his father and his sister would need to have some time alone to talk.
"Here's Miley, Mr. Stewart," Cory told Robbie Ray. "Safe and sound, just like you asked me."
"So she is," Robbie Ray muttered.
"I better go, sir," Cory said. "I think you two need some time to talk." With that said, Cory backed out of the front porch and began walking back to his car. Midway down, he took out his cellphone from his pocket and answered a call.
"Miley, it has been a long time since you were last here," Robbie Ray told his daughter once Cory was out of earshot.
Miley sighed. "I know, Dad," she said. "Look, I'm not gonna sugarcoat what I'm about to say because you deserve to know the truth. It's my fault that I grew distant with you and Jackson and Lilly and all my other friends. I'd grown tired of being Hannah Montana; grew tired of living two lives at the same time. Whenever I would think about you, or Jackson, or Lilly or the others, I would always remember Hannah alongside. And I didn't want to live like that anymore, so I moved out and became a pilot. I was kinda hoping that it was gonna be a new chapter of my life, so to speak. And then the crash happened, and that got me thinking about how I've never said any proper goodbyes, and that in all the time that I've been flying for Cash, I've missed you guys. I would never have forgiven myself if I'd died before I'd reconciled with y'all."
"Is that an apology, Miley?" Rarely did his daughter ever apologize for a lot of things since the day she was born, but Robbie Ray recognized that something special or strange was going on right now.
"Yeah, Dad," Miley replied. "I may have said a lot of words, but yeah, I'm saying sorry for leaving y'all behind all those years ago."
Robbie Ray sighed. "Well, I suppose I'm also at fault for what happened," he said. "I had no idea that you hated being Hannah."
"Oh, no, Dad, you got it wrong," Miley said. "It's not that I hate Hannah, it's just that… I thought I needed a new challenge. Somehow, I managed to master living two lives. At that point, I guess I just wanted to be my own person, not just someone whom someone wanted me to be."
"It's not really what I was expecting you to say," Robbie Ray said, "but at least you finally allowed me to understand where you're coming from." He hugged his daughter. "Welcome back, Miley Ray Stewart."
"It's good to be back, Dad," Miley replied. "How about my room, though? Is it still around?"
"She's been waiting for you for four years," Robbie Ray replied.
Just as Miley was about to enter the house, Cory walked up to her and tapped her shoulder lightly. "The NTSB's just called me," he said. "Their lead investigator in the crash wants to talk to you."
"What, as in like, right now?" Miley asked. "Can't you just have him move the date or something?"
"Actually, she wants to talk to you now, as in right now, when your memories of the crash are still fresh," Cory replied. "At least that's what she said. Also, she wants to meet with you at the crash site."
"Oh, sweet niblets," Miley muttered. "All right, just let me get my things stashed, and then let's go meet this girl."
"Hey, if you guys make it back before six," Robbie Ray said, "I've got pot roast for dinner. Just so you know. If you're interested."
"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Stewart," Cory said.
A/N: As always, leave a review whether you liked it or not! - GR