its_theclimb: (fact: luggage)
With eight hours to go until her flight, Miley was kind of in a mad rush to get everything packed in time. Because everything meant everything, and for some ridiculous reason, when she'd shown up on this island last July she'd sort of brought a ton of stuff.

Not all of it was going with her, probably -- there were some outfits she had no idea why she'd ever bought and had no intention of bringing back home with her -- but a lot of it was, and most of it wasn't going to fit in her sparkly pink luggage. Which meant that there were moving boxes everywhere, and Miley was frantically attacking them with moving tape in the hopes that they would just close already.

Plus her phone was ringing off the hook with calls from Vida and Lilly and Jackson and her father, all wondering when she was supposed to get in, not to mention agents of various talk show hosts who wanted to schedule appearances with her, and of course Steven Spielberg, who wanted to know when she was getting to the set next week, and and and--

So yeah, Miley was a wee bit stressed right now. She was flying around the room, jamming things into boxes with her phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder, explaining, "Yes, Vida, I know about the signing in Paris, I remember and I'm totally gonna be there on Satur-- no, yeah, I meant Thursday, that's totally what I meant, I'll be there Thursday, no okay I gotta go bye!"

[[open/open, last post!]]
its_theclimb: (neg: flop)
After getting back from her sixth portal connection (through the Oregon Trail, and sweet niblets was she never doing that again), Miley was, well... Miley was stomping around the room and dumping her stuff everywhere.

And... sort of muttering to herself.

"Can't go to college," she grumbled. "Just because I was selling out stadiums and meeting the Queen of England instead of holding a spit bucket for the girls' wrestling team! Stupid Standford."

And with that, she flopped onto the bed to mope.

She was just a bundle of sunshine today, wasn't she? Visit with peril.

[[door and post open, yes! though any references to hannah montana are nfb and juliet's thread will be chronlogically last, plz.]]
its_theclimb: (au weekend: hiding)
This weekend had started off normal. Different from her usual self, not that she knew that, sure, but -- normal, at least, in that no one was chasing her or trying to invade her privacy.

Then this morning she'd woken up and found squirrels perched outside her window. And that had all changed.

Now she was on the run in the warehouse district, ducking through alleys and trying to avoid the squirrels and their tiny, tiny notepads. And how did she keep herself occupied during this mission?

She sang, of course.

"You don't understand
What it is
That makes me tick
But you wish you did...
"

Shit, a squirrel! Miley pressed herself up against the wall, stomach sucked in to try to avoid being seen. Then it scampered off and she returned to fleeing and darting between buildings some more.

"You always second-guess, wonderin'
I say yes, but you just
Lose out every time...
"

[[oh my god, so open. miley is now miley cyrus from the music video of "fly on the wall." yeah, i went there.]]
its_theclimb: (goofy: leap!)
It had been awhile since Miley had considered herself of an appropriate age to jump on a bed.

And yet. Today she was jumping on the bed. And singing into a hairbrush microphone.

"I know today is taking me
Where I'm meant to be
Doesn't matter where I go
With my bowling shoes
And my rock star phone
I'm waiting for a friend to call
Or the rain to fall
Life goes by
Who knows why?
"

So it was going to be a Hilary Duff night, apparently.

[[Open! Any mentions of Hannah Montana in the boyfriend thread go NFB, plz.]]
its_theclimb: (goofy: leap!)
It had been awhile since Miley had considered herself of an appropriate age to jump on a bed.

And yet. Today she was jumping on the bed. And singing into a hairbrush microphone.

"I know today is taking me
Where I'm meant to be
Doesn't matter where I go
With my bowling shoes
And my rock star phone
I'm waiting for a friend to call
Or the rain to fall
Life goes by
Who knows why?
"

So it was going to be a Hilary Duff night, apparently.

[[Open! Any mentions of Hannah Montana in the boyfriend thread go NFB, plz.]]
its_theclimb: (ily: pos relaxin with the boy)
After a sold-out Hannah Montana concert (two-minute standing ovation, baby), the limo pulled up to Miley's house and she glanced over at Dave.

"So... just warning you, my family is strange," she let him know, grinning a little. "Like, majorly wacky. You sure you're ready for this?"

[[nfb, obviously. for that short kid.]]
its_theclimb: (ily: pos relaxin with the boy)
After a sold-out Hannah Montana concert (two-minute standing ovation, baby), the limo pulled up to Miley's house and she glanced over at Dave.

"So... just warning you, my family is strange," she let him know, grinning a little. "Like, majorly wacky. You sure you're ready for this?"

[[nfb, obviously. for that short kid.]]
its_theclimb: (fact: scrapbook)
Miley was... not crying anymore. Which was good. Jono had comforted her a little and now she was feeling better. Not, say, get-up-and-dance better. More... flop-on-the-bed-and-flip-through-her-scrapbook better.

Which, really, was still pretty maudlin.

And then her Pandora station, which was supposed to give her JBiebz, started playing the most annoying song ever instead. Seriously, Pandora? Her mortal enemy? That was who you decided to play?

Rude, was what it was.

But getting up seemed like a lot of work, so she just tried to block it out as she kept flipping through pages of her best and worst moments as Hannah, wincing at some and half-smiling at others.

The first photo in the book showed Miley at twelve. Looking at it now, she couldn't remember where or when it had been taken. Which made sense -- that whole first year'd been a blur, even while it was happening. Her mom's death, Jackson's middle school graduation, that first song she'd written that had somehow managed to get noticed. Moving to LA.

Meeting Lilly and Oliver.

And that -- that -- was because of Hannah. She'd met them as Miley, but... talking to people, making friends? Back then? She hadn't been so good at that. But Hannah had given her confidence, made her able to do that, and without her, Miley didn't know where she'd be.

Jono was wrong. Hannah was a part of her, Miley decided. Maybe not all of her, but -- a part. And now she was gone.

[[Door is closed, post is open. That Miley looked at a scrapbook is fine, but the contents are NFB; similarly, it's okay for broadcast that Dave stopped by and they talked, but the topic of discussion is NFB as well.]]
its_theclimb: (fact: scrapbook)
Miley was... not crying anymore. Which was good. Jono had comforted her a little and now she was feeling better. Not, say, get-up-and-dance better. More... flop-on-the-bed-and-flip-through-her-scrapbook better.

Which, really, was still pretty maudlin.

And then her Pandora station, which was supposed to give her JBiebz, started playing the most annoying song ever instead. Seriously, Pandora? Her mortal enemy? That was who you decided to play?

Rude, was what it was.

But getting up seemed like a lot of work, so she just tried to block it out as she kept flipping through pages of her best and worst moments as Hannah, wincing at some and half-smiling at others.

The first photo in the book showed Miley at twelve. Looking at it now, she couldn't remember where or when it had been taken. Which made sense -- that whole first year'd been a blur, even while it was happening. Her mom's death, Jackson's middle school graduation, that first song she'd written that had somehow managed to get noticed. Moving to LA.

Meeting Lilly and Oliver.

And that -- that -- was because of Hannah. She'd met them as Miley, but... talking to people, making friends? Back then? She hadn't been so good at that. But Hannah had given her confidence, made her able to do that, and without her, Miley didn't know where she'd be.

Jono was wrong. Hannah was a part of her, Miley decided. Maybe not all of her, but -- a part. And now she was gone.

[[Door is closed, post is open. That Miley looked at a scrapbook is fine, but the contents are NFB; similarly, it's okay for broadcast that Dave stopped by and they talked, but the topic of discussion is NFB as well.]]
its_theclimb: (weetiny: happy)
There were auditions today. Auditions to sing and dance and do fun things in front of everyone!

So naturally, Miley had to practice. It was important to practice! Daddy did it all the time for his concerts, and Aunt Dolly did it for hers, and Mom and Jackson... well, they didn't like singing. But Jackson practiced for his volleyball team!

But Miley didn't want to be a volleyball player; she wanted to be a rock star. So she ran around the hallways with a glittery pink microphone that said HM on it and sang and danced to a song she was making up on the spot. That way she'd be ready for her audition and she could meet the other kids who might be wandering around! Yay!

[[SO OPEN.]]
its_theclimb: (weetiny: happy)
There were auditions today. Auditions to sing and dance and do fun things in front of everyone!

So naturally, Miley had to practice. It was important to practice! Daddy did it all the time for his concerts, and Aunt Dolly did it for hers, and Mom and Jackson... well, they didn't like singing. But Jackson practiced for his volleyball team!

But Miley didn't want to be a volleyball player; she wanted to be a rock star. So she ran around the hallways with a glittery pink microphone that said HM on it and sang and danced to a song she was making up on the spot. That way she'd be ready for her audition and she could meet the other kids who might be wandering around! Yay!

[[SO OPEN.]]
its_theclimb: (neg: just been crying)
A very loud, empassioned argument was being had in room 311 as frantic music played. And this argument, naturally, involved a wig being tossed on and off between speakers.

"I can't believe you want to take this away from me!" Hannah-Miley accused. In addition to having blonder hair, she was better-dressed than Miley, despite switching on a split-second's notice.

"I don't!" Miley-Miley shot back, taking the wig off and frowning determinedly. "All I said was that my life would be easier if I didn't have you to worry about!"

Hannah-Miley threw the wig back on, shimmering in a radiant ballgown that had suddenly appeared. "So you want to tell the world, is that it? Get yourself checked into a facility? Your every move scrutinized by doctors and nurses?"

Miley-Miley began to cry. One tear at a time, of course. "All I want is to be free," she whispered. She was in So Much Pain!

Now Hannah-Miley decided enough was enough. "Fine," she hissed. "Then until you can come to your senses, I'm in control." She put the wig on with a smug smile. "Later, Miley."

And with that, she took Miley's collage of photos off of the wall and began to cut them up, all the while playing her last few hits at maximum volume on her iPod speakers. While Miley wailed inside, of course.

[[I'm... I'm really not sure. Open.]]
its_theclimb: (neg: just been crying)
A very loud, empassioned argument was being had in room 311 as frantic music played. And this argument, naturally, involved a wig being tossed on and off between speakers.

"I can't believe you want to take this away from me!" Hannah-Miley accused. In addition to having blonder hair, she was better-dressed than Miley, despite switching on a split-second's notice.

"I don't!" Miley-Miley shot back, taking the wig off and frowning determinedly. "All I said was that my life would be easier if I didn't have you to worry about!"

Hannah-Miley threw the wig back on, shimmering in a radiant ballgown that had suddenly appeared. "So you want to tell the world, is that it? Get yourself checked into a facility? Your every move scrutinized by doctors and nurses?"

Miley-Miley began to cry. One tear at a time, of course. "All I want is to be free," she whispered. She was in So Much Pain!

Now Hannah-Miley decided enough was enough. "Fine," she hissed. "Then until you can come to your senses, I'm in control." She put the wig on with a smug smile. "Later, Miley."

And with that, she took Miley's collage of photos off of the wall and began to cut them up, all the while playing her last few hits at maximum volume on her iPod speakers. While Miley wailed inside, of course.

[[I'm... I'm really not sure. Open.]]

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