So this idea came to me a really long time ago, but I just put it on paper/Word last week because I was bored. This is just the prologue, it gives you guys the much needed background information. Though, not everything is explained…
This is a Niley story, so if you don't like them as a couple then I suggest that you don't read.
Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or any of the people that are used in this story. Cause if I did, well…certain things would be different. :D OH! And this is completely legal because no last names will be used. Happy now?
It was weird, this feeling of being back home.
But really, what was "home"? Is it the place where you sleep or the place where you have people you love surrounding you? I guess I always imagined it as the latter. For the longest time home was where I had family and friends to keep me safe and happy. But then I realized that it was so much more than that because the people you love won't always be around.
I learned that the hard way.
So then, what is home? Do you want to hear my definition? I think it can be more than one place. It's somewhere you can let yourself be free; where you can let yourself be you. No hiding behind the public facade, no adhering to the "rules" set by society (not that I ever did), and absolutely no losing yourself in the world that we call Hollywood.
For awhile I stuck to this definition and it always fit the place I called home. First Tennessee, then California, life was accelerating faster and faster each day, so much that I missed the point where my life stopped being my life; when I was being controlled by the higher ups and the more powerful. It came as a shock, although others viewed it as a surprise that I had not realized it earlier on.
So for months on end I went on with my life, always second-guessing myself, always wondering if what I was doing was for me or for someone else. But that wasn't me, it wasn't who I was. I saw myself as strong and independent, not the weak person I saw in the mirror every day.
That was around the time I had decided to leave.
Demi and I had bought a modest apartment on the one of the many beaches that lined the Southern California coastline. We went in fifty-fifty. There was no "Oh, I'll get the rent for you this month" or "Just pay me back when you can". Doing that would result in a one way ticket to one of those reality-TV court shows. We had seen too much and lived through too much to be anything but cautious.
Things were great for awhile. Demi and I were still the best of friends, practically sisters, and living together didn't change that. People flitted in and out of our apartment: friends, family, boyfriends. She was dating Joe (everyone saw that coming) and I had been dating Liam for a little while. My relationship ended with the two of us remaining close friends, and I continued to date other boys, never letting it be anything more than casual.
But I remember that single day when everything changed. As a joke one day, I sent out resumes to publishing companies and newspapers all over the country, a few were even sent across the Atlantic. Demi of course was encouraging and laughing right along with me, neither of us was actually expecting that anyone would offer me a job. I didn't have any experience writing, unless you counted songwriting, which I doubt they did, and I didn't highlight or say what my current job was. So imagine my surprise when I get a reply from a small newspaper located in the outskirts of London, telling me they would love if I came to work for them. And on top of all that, they had no idea who "Miley, the teen pop sensation" was, (contrary to popular belief, not everyone did).
I took the job.
I was so tired of what a mess my life was that I just wanted to escape. Demi was gone that weekend; she had some PR thing in Chicago. That Monday when she walked through the door, I was on my out. I packed a lot of my stuff in boxes and I was having them shipped to my new place. The rest of my things were to stay here, just in case I ever came back. Demi cried a bit when I told her everything, but she quickly pulled herself together and helped me load everything up.
She drove me to the airport and I made her promise not to tell anyone where I had gone; to keep it an absolute secret and to act like she had no idea where I was (because if someone found out she knew, they would have no trouble getting it out of her). I expected her to argue, but she just nodded with a soft smile and said, "Of course."
My last words to her on that day were, "I love you best friend." Then I turned and boarded the plane.
My time across the ocean was so much better than I ever thought possible. I was actually thriving but in a different way than I was as a performer. For once I was actually happy; I was always smiling, but not the fake smile that everyone thought was my real one. They would say, "Doesn't she look happy?" when the truth was, I had used that same smile for every situation, unless you really knew me at my actual happy moments. So the fans and the paparazzi always thought I was so happy, when in reality I was not. But they didn't need to know that.
I met new people, met new friends, and my work life was simple. Well, not simple, but simpler than it was before. I quickly moved up the ranks of my job. I loved the small town life that my new home had. The best part was that no one knew who I was. It surprised me to no end when I first found out, but I guess I got used to after a while. Apparently the town did not have a lot of contact with the "outside" world. The newspaper printed facts about actual important stuff, not about who wore a certain dress better. They weren't exactly huge fans of gossip or the lives of people that they would most likely never meet. It was not as if they were Amish or anything, they just preferred to stay inside their world; most of the time, if you grew up there, you didn't leave. It was a very strange custom, but it was just the way they lived their life. Although, it didn't stop the town from thriving considerably, so I guess some people knew who I was. But they were nice enough not to say anything.
Again, my dating life was almost non-existent, except for the string less relationships that I did end up having. As for my social life, I had made many good friends in my three years overseas. The most notable were Alexa James and Kristen Marks, two of the sweetest girls you will ever meet on the other side of the Atlantic. They were the same age as me and they were interns when I first started working at the paper. The two of them had grown up together, but they automatically took me under their wing, even though I was technically their boss. We became very close, although I never told them about my previous life, no matter how many times they asked. They asked a lot too, always trying to catch me off guard, but it never worked. I was too accustomed to sneaky interviewers and the crazy paparazzi.
As for Demi, the two of us stayed very close. She kept her promise and didn't tell anyone where I was or that she even knew where I was; although, I did give her permission to tell Joe because I trusted him enough. We always met in a secluded place. I never set foot in America again; they always met me somewhere in London. They would stay for a week, and then go back home. There were a few times where we came close to being photographed together, but we had always managed to miraculously avoid those doomed confrontations.
But then came that fateful two o'clock in the morning phone call from none other than my best friend herself. I was groggy when I flipped my cell phone open and mumbled an irritated hello into the receiver. The first thing I thought next was that my eardrums had to have broken because of her yelling the fact that she was getting married. I lay speechless for a couple minutes, letting her ramble on and on about how he proposed and such. When she finally calmed down enough for me to speak (after she told, not asked, me that I was going to be her maid of honor), my first words were, "I'm coming home."
She of course seemed confused at first, asking why I decided that I was coming home now. I in turn told her that there was no way in hell that I was going to plan her entire wedding with a seven-hour time difference between us. Demi squealed and started going off on the fact that my room was still waiting for me, untouched except for the couple times she had set foot in there. I just smiled and let her have her moment; I wasn't sure if this was the right thing for me to do, but if it made her that happy, then I figured it couldn't be too far off from the right thing.
We finally hung up an hour later and I got those much needed extra couple hours of sleep. That morning I took a deep breath and walked into the office, the place that I had come to regard as my second home. The place was buzzing as usual, which made it a little harder, knowing that I would be leaving that familiarity (but I had done it once before and it hadn't be that bad, right?). I walked right up to my boss, McKenna Olsen, and told her that I was leaving. To me, it seemed as if the entire place went silent. Maybe I was over exaggerating, but it literally felt like you would be able to hear a pin drop. Dumbfounded, she asked my why and I told her that it was just time for me to stop running away and to face all my demons that I left back home.
Everybody was sad, more so than I thought they would be, and a lot of them begged me to stay. But I stuck by my decision, rationalizing it in my head until I was absolutely positive that this was the right thing.
It took me an entire two weeks to pack everything up and have it shipped back to California; it took a much longer this time, maybe because I knew the chances of me coming back were slim. Again I asked Demi and Joe not to say anything about my return. Hey, if I was coming back, I was going to come back with a bang.
Kristen and Alexa drove me to the airport and we shared a tearful goodbye. I think they could sense that I probably was not coming back. They still had no idea who I really was; I didn't have the guts to tell them, even after I knew I was leaving.
I took a deep breath and boarded the plane (wasn't this familiar?) before I could get scared and change my mind. Just in case, I kept my head down on the plane to avoid any fan situations, and I quickly fell asleep.
I woke up to the stewardess gently shaking me, "Miss, we are about to land. We need you to put your seat up."
"Oh, of course," I smiled, still tired, and I put the seat into the upright position.
Overhead, the pilot was speaking on the intercom, "We have now arrived in Los Angeles, California. It is an absolutely beautiful day here in the city. Thank you for flying with us!"
But all I heard after the words 'we have now arrived in Los Angeles, California' were these words constantly repeated in my mind:
'Welcome home Miley…Welcome home Miley…Welcome home Miley...'
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I actually don't know where this story is going which means it will be a little while between updates. And I only want to write it if people want to read it. AND I do have opinions on certain subjects but I will try to keep them to myself unless it is absolutely necessary for me to put them into my writing or even share them with you guys through these wonderful little author's notes. :D
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And a huge hug and tons of thanks to all my twitter/fanfiction friends. Team M for being an amazing writer and listening to all my issues. LostInLoveex3 for being equally awesome and another great writer and for helping me come up with the name 'Kristen'. LoveInEMinor, Happy Belated Birthday! nickcharming for being completey awsome after only a day of knowing each other and well...being Katelyn.(: And finally the biggest thanks to my bestest friend whom I have never met, JustBreathex3, or Auri as I like to call her. She forced the Niley writing bug into my mind. :D