A/N: Hey everyone! Yeah, I know, it's been a while and I've basically been MIA, but I can't help it. Stupid school distracts me and the even stupider Jonabiotic people deleted ALL of my chapter stories (granted, they all involved the Jonas boys when they weren't supposed to, but I'm still severely pissed off at them). Anyways, this popped in to my head just a moment ago, so I thought I'd give it a shot. And who says they can deprive me from writing my Nilly stories?

But this time, I definitely shouldn't have this get deleted considering having the Jonas boys in a story is now legal. Yes, as long as it focuses on Hannah Montana, it's one hundred percent okay! So take that all you Jonabiotics! So enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Seriously, I'm a fourteen year old girl. Do you really think I'd be sitting here writing fanfiction if I owned the Hannah rights? Uh, no.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Miley! Move it or lose it! The concert is in two hours and we still have to go through warm ups, makeup, wardrobe, and sound check! Plus, we have to do a quick run-through of everything to make sure nothing goes wrong!" I slumped back on the stairs, preparing myself to have to wait another five minutes only to holler up at the popstar yet again.

Bored, I fingered the fringe on the hem of my neon purple skirt I picked out to match my bob-cut wig. The lime green top I had on went perfectly with my high heels and I had a few hot pink accessories. Overall, a very Lola thing to wear. Speaking of wardrobe, I'm not even sure why Miley was taking so long in the first place. I mean, all she has to do is toss on her blonde Hannah wig and go. There's no point in her dressing up only to have to change every thirty minutes for the concert. And besides, she had a whole team devoted to making Hannah look flawless up on stage.

Where as I, Hannah's right hand girl Lola Luftnagle, didn't have fifty people crawling all over me whose sole purpose was to make sure a looked breathtaking. No, I had my mom (who was at work most of the time, which is where I should be right now) and, well, me. I had a makeup kit filled to the brim with every imaginable shade of eye shadow, lipstick, blush, nail polish, and even mascara. There was an old laundry basket overflowing with every Lola wig in multiple shapes and lengths. And don't even get me started on the clothes. Seriously, don't.

After using the bathroom, adjusting my skirt, and making a few touch-ups to my eye shadow, Miley still wasn't down stairs. "Miley Stewart! If you don't get your butt down here in the next two minutes, I will do such illegal things to you!" I rolled my eyes and glanced down at my watch impatiently, tapping my foot and everything.

Just as her one hundred and twenty seconds were coming to an end, she leaped down the stairs in her converses, tank top, and an old pair of shorts with the Hannah wig placed securely on the top of her head. This is why I've been waiting twenty minutes? "Uh, Miley, what took you so long? If that's all you were wearing, then why did I even bother shouting up the stairs when you could have come down here any minute?"

"Wig malfunction," she stated simply, walking over to the fridge and grabbing an apple.

I stared at her mop of blonde hair. "Are you sure? It looks fine to me."

"No, but you should have seen it. Jackson spilled some kind of sauce on it this morning and I was trying to wash it out. I tried hand soap, shampoo, conditioner, dishwashing soap, and wet wipes before the stain finally disappeared. And then it was all poofy and wet, so I had to blow dry it so I didn't look like I just rolled out of bed, hopped in the shower, and left," she explained.

Taking a bite of her apple, she turned off all the lights in her house and walked outside, with me in tow, heading for the limo. She stopped and turned back to lock up the house, then jogged back over to the car, where I had already taken my seat on the cool leather seats, and slid in next to me.

"Sorry, Kenny, I didn't mean to make you wait, but I had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction," she told the driver, her way of letting him know we could start driving to the arena. I said a quick hello to Kenny, who waved back, before I turned to Hannah.

"You know, if you had been just a few seconds later, I would have blown my top off. You can't be late for your final concert before summer. Especially because it's a charity concert." I reached in to the mini fridge and pulled out a grape soda. My favorite.

Hannah rolled her eyes and leaned back in the seat, enjoying these last fifteen minutes of peace before she was swept up in the lifestyle of being a famous popstar where she'd be waited on hand and foot for the next hour and a half before going out on stage to perform for thousands of adoring fans. After all, it's a hard-knock life.

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Ugh. I've been sitting here in this room for nearly two hours. Nothing good is on TV, the workers are too busy with their jobs to talk to me, the other acts at the charity concert are total snobs, and the brilliance of the chocolate fountain starts to fade after five years.

Yes, you heard me correctly, five years. And counting. I found out Miley was Hannah when I was thirteen. Now I'm eighteen. I'm not exactly sure how Miley managed to keep her double life under wraps and away from the nosy media, but she did. Now we're out of school and Miley's going to try to keep Hannah alive for as long as possible, maybe starring in a few movie or television roles, too.

Me? I'm just taking a year off before I start college. I mean, do you really want to finally graduate high school only to have to start the scary adventure they call college just three months later? Not quite. I'd much rather travel the world or do some backpacking through Europe or something interesting like that. When I'm old and gray, I want to have some really great memories to look back on and not just memories of me sitting on the couch in my pajamas watching reruns of Friends. No, I mean I want memories of exciting things.

Grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels to distract me from the thoughts of school, I came across the news. Another robbery. Some lady gave birth to septuplets. A girl nearly half my age was accepted to college. Blah, blah, blah. Oh, hold on, this one actually looks interesting. No, wait. It's another set of boring details about the current status of the government. And I know I should care more, but I'm hooked on being a kid. And what kid wants to listen to politics? None that I know of.

Just as I was considering carving my name in to the underside of the table, leaving my mark there permanently, my cell phone rang. The ringtone was a special one I picked out for my family in northern California. I smiled, reminiscing all of the childhood memories I shared with my cousins, and I especially remembered the back door with little pencil dashes scrawled all over it from when I was younger and my cousins and I would measure ourselves constantly. Who can forget the multiple summers I would spend with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins from all over? Gosh, I haven't been there in years.

Pulling myself out of Memory Lane and back in to reality, I dug around in my lime green purse, that was picked out to match my shirt, before I finally found the source of the music (beside the familiar beat of Hannah in the background). I double checked to be sure that it was family, and flipped open the phone.

"Yola!" I practically screamed in to the phone. I hadn't talked to these people in so long, it's a wonder I'm not jumping around in circles.

"Lilly?" An old, raspy voice filled my ears and I instantly recognized it as my grandfather's voice.

"Hi, Grandpa!" Seriously, I was stoked to hear from him. Not to sound rude or pushy or anything, but I'm secretly – or not so secretly – wishing he's calling to see if I want to spend a month or two with him on the farm. Miley isn't the only one with country cousins.

"Hello, Lilly Pad!" He greeted cheerfully, using my old nickname I've had since I was four. "Sorry this is going to be a short call, but can I talk to your mom by any chance? I tried calling your home phone, but no one answered. And I lost her cell phone number, so I called you. So, you wouldn't happen to have it, would you?"

"Have what?" I joked, waiting anxiously to hear his deep laugh again.

"Lillian, I know you're just trying to have some fun, but this is serious. I really do need to know how to contact your mother or you'll be seeing me much sooner than you think," he informed me and all traces of the joy in his voice were completely diminished.

"Uh, sure, I can give it to you." I was trying not to let my voice waver, a sure give away that I was scared of what was going on. I recited the digits from memory before asking what was wrong.

He sighed deeply. "Well, I haven't been paying the mortgage lately, and now the state is threatening to take away, well, everything if I don't pay up by the end of this month." I was shocked. I couldn't talk or move, let alone breathe. "Listen, Lilly Pad, everything will be okay. I promise you that. Just don't think about it, alright? I'll call you tomorrow to check in on you. It was nice talking to you." I was about to say goodbye when I remembered I had no voice. Instead, I gave out a moan, to let him know I'd heard him, and then he hung up.

What does he mean? Does he just not have the money anymore? But what about the crops he would grow and then sell to the local market? Does this mean I won't have another chance to spend a summer there? No, it can't be true. It just can't be.

Would I never get to sleep in that house again? I even had a room picked out for me with a nice, blue bed spread and a little white desk to write at and everything. Would I never wake up to the smell of eggs and pancakes again? And what about sitting on the deck and eating breakfast, overlooking the fields all the while?

No, Lilly, don't think like that! I mentally scolded myself. I can't just give in that easily. I have a headstrong attitude and my grandpa assured me that everything would be all right. He's going to call me tomorrow and give me the good news. And then I'll know that I was worrying over nothing. Everything will be okay.

I hope.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Ta da! So there's the first chapter! And I sincerely hope that all of you enjoyed it! I have a general idea of where this story is going, but if you have any suggestions, I'm open to a few changes! So, yeah, if you liked it (and I'm really hoping that all of you who read this did) then feel free to review! I'll try my best to respond to all of them! The only reason I wouldn't be able to is if I'm knee-deep in school work. Anyways, click on that little blue-ish button in the bottom left hand corner! Bye for now!

And if I'm seriously lacking in the updates department, feel free to send me a PM telling me you'd like to see another chapter soon and I'll get right on it! Honestly, don't hesitate!

Parakeet17