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Room 311, Sunday Evening
Apr. 29th, 2012 05:36 pmWith 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!]]
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!]]
It was funny, Miley thought, as she quietly paged through her closet in search of just the right outfit to wear on The Tonight Show later today. So many of her Hannah outfits were tied to old memories in some way. Like the pink top she wore to her first wig-fitting ever, at the age of twelve. Or the blue pleather jacket she'd worn to sing with the Jonas Brothers, or the tiny striped tank top she'd worn when she'd done that concert where she'd invited Uncle Earl to sing up on stage. She looked for a long time before she found just the right outfit to pair with her wig for later, one that wouldn't be writing over any old memories in case this went badly.
( One that went just as well with brown hair as it did with blonde. )
[[nfb/nfi, and taken from hannah montana 4x09, "i'll always remember you." aaaand done, finally!]]
( One that went just as well with brown hair as it did with blonde. )
[[nfb/nfi, and taken from hannah montana 4x09, "i'll always remember you." aaaand done, finally!]]
So lately, Miley had been... a little grouchy. Or, well, very grouchy. Something about getting rejected from her top-choice university just because she had a secret identity that made it a little difficult to do things like after-school clubs and community service.
Regardless, though, there was always one thing that made her feel better when she was grouchy, and that thing was shopping.
So here she was, sunglasses on and Hannah Montana-worthy designer clothes in shopping bags in each hand, and she turned to Juliet. "Best idea ever," she declared. "I mean, come on. It's impossible to dwell on you-know-what when I have new shoes this cute."
[[for one, and NFB for distance!]]
Regardless, though, there was always one thing that made her feel better when she was grouchy, and that thing was shopping.
So here she was, sunglasses on and Hannah Montana-worthy designer clothes in shopping bags in each hand, and she turned to Juliet. "Best idea ever," she declared. "I mean, come on. It's impossible to dwell on you-know-what when I have new shoes this cute."
[[for one, and NFB for distance!]]
Well, the weekend had detained her slightly -- first because of stupid Portalocity and their weird weekend rules, and then because she'd found herself spending quite a bit of time getting to know her apparent fake future son Cash -- but finally on Tuesday morning, Miley managed to book herself a portal with only one stop (which she took advantage of in order to don her wig and change clothes in the ladies' room) before she got to Standford.
She sauntered into the admissions office, phone to her ear as she prepared to fake a conversation with her "assistant," Miley Stewart.
( ''Yes, Miley, the directions you gave me were perfect as usual.'' )
[[nfb/nfi, once again from hannah montana 4x09, "i'll always remember you." THIS POOR GIRL, I SWEAR TO GOD.]]
She sauntered into the admissions office, phone to her ear as she prepared to fake a conversation with her "assistant," Miley Stewart.
( ''Yes, Miley, the directions you gave me were perfect as usual.'' )
[[nfb/nfi, once again from hannah montana 4x09, "i'll always remember you." THIS POOR GIRL, I SWEAR TO GOD.]]
After hearing Juliet's amazing advice yesterday, Miley had immediately taken off for Paldo Aldo. Unfortunately, portals being what they were, it wasn't until today that she sat, fresh from a three-hour stop somewhere called Candy Mountain, in the admission woman's office. Again. She had a brilliant excuse at the ready, and this time she really thought she was going to get somewhere.
[[nfb/nfi, and once again from hannah montana 4x09, "i'll always remember you."]]
Room 311, Thursday Afternoon
Mar. 29th, 2012 03:14 pmAfter 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.]]
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.]]
The sequence of portals that had brought Miley to Standford on such short notice had not been pretty. No, not pretty at all. There had been a stop in a gangy and decidedly unDisney New York City neighborhood, a stop somewhere in the mosh pit of a very screaming-based concert, and -- perhaps most disturbingly -- a stop in a teenage boy's room that looked an awful lot like Jackson's.
But finally, finally, Miley had made it to Standford, and had managed to make it into the admissions office. She was hungry and irritated, her hair was a disaster, and she had a definite eye twitch, but she was there.
[[nfb/nfi, ooc cool, yes the misspelling is intentional tyvm. oh disney, whut. dialogue taken from hannah montana 4x09, "i'll always remember you."]]
Room 311, Wednesday Afternoon
Mar. 28th, 2012 12:44 pmWith the exception of one (disappointingly muddy) class, today Miley was having a typical afternoon, with nice weather and not a lot going on. So she was entertaining herself with reading Hannah Montana concert reviews -- a usual favorite pastime of hers, since they were only ever overwhelmingly positive -- when suddenly her zPhone buzzed with a text from Lilly. But before she could read it, her phone was ringing -- Lilly again -- so she just answered it.
"Hey, Lil, what's up?"
What she was met with was possibly the most piercing shriek of all time. But a happy one. Like some really prolonged squeeing. Miley briefly entertained the possibility that Lilly had found that one really nice review from the kid in Arkansas, then dismissed the possibility as she realized what it had to be.
"Is it--?"
"Standford admissions letters!" Lilly shrieked.
Miley's eyes went huge. "Hang on," she said, and dashed with really impressive speed down the stairs to the mailbox, where she extracted -- a bright manila envelope with Standford's insignia on it. Pressing it to her chest, she raced back up the stairs, squeeing at the top of her lungs all the way there.
"Okay," she panted into the phone as she grabbed it back up off the desk. "Open them on three. Ready? One -- two --"
( THREE! )
[[door and post open, la]]
"Hey, Lil, what's up?"
What she was met with was possibly the most piercing shriek of all time. But a happy one. Like some really prolonged squeeing. Miley briefly entertained the possibility that Lilly had found that one really nice review from the kid in Arkansas, then dismissed the possibility as she realized what it had to be.
"Is it--?"
"Standford admissions letters!" Lilly shrieked.
Miley's eyes went huge. "Hang on," she said, and dashed with really impressive speed down the stairs to the mailbox, where she extracted -- a bright manila envelope with Standford's insignia on it. Pressing it to her chest, she raced back up the stairs, squeeing at the top of her lungs all the way there.
"Okay," she panted into the phone as she grabbed it back up off the desk. "Open them on three. Ready? One -- two --"
( THREE! )
[[door and post open, la]]
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.]]
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.]]
Room 311, Wednesday Evening
Jan. 11th, 2012 09:19 pmIt 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.]]
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.]]
Room 311, Wednesday Evening
Jan. 11th, 2012 09:19 pmIt 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.]]
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.]]
Room 311, Sunday Afternoon
Jan. 1st, 2012 04:39 pmMiley had known, coming to Fandom four months ago, that there was a time difference between here and home. Because at home, it had been September when she'd first showed up, whereas here, it had only been the beginning of July.
However, apparently over the past few months, that time difference had evened out – so when she woke up on January first in Fandom and her phone beeped to remind her that college applications were due today, a quick text to Lilly confirmed that the same was the case at home as well.
Which meant she absolutely had to work on her Standford essay. And it was… coming along.
( To The Ceiling And Back: A Girl, A Rope and A Dream )Miley read it over once, then twice, sent it to Lilly for a quick proofread, and then hit send.
Standford was going to love this.
[[Oh god the world's worst essay behind the cut. WORST. Essay inspired by (but not taken from) Hannah Montana 4x09, "I'll Always Remember You," and events in her story are taken from 4x07, "Love That Lets Go." Mistakes are Miley's, obviously. Open!]]
Room 311, Sunday Afternoon
Jan. 1st, 2012 04:39 pmMiley had known, coming to Fandom four months ago, that there was a time difference between here and home. Because at home, it had been September when she'd first showed up, whereas here, it had only been the beginning of July.
However, apparently over the past few months, that time difference had evened out – so when she woke up on January first in Fandom and her phone beeped to remind her that college applications were due today, a quick text to Lilly confirmed that the same was the case at home as well.
Which meant she absolutely had to work on her Standford essay. And it was… coming along.
( To The Ceiling And Back: A Girl, A Rope and A Dream )Miley read it over once, then twice, sent it to Lilly for a quick proofread, and then hit send.
Standford was going to love this.
[[Oh god the world's worst essay behind the cut. WORST. Essay inspired by (but not taken from) Hannah Montana 4x09, "I'll Always Remember You," and events in her story are taken from 4x07, "Love That Lets Go." Mistakes are Miley's, obviously. Open!]]
As Miley knew well by now after four years of pop stardom, doing concerts every night -- even with the occasional break for dinner with the boyfriend or having friends come backstage -- was exhausting, especially during a time that was supposedly her winter break.
But it was pretty fun anyway. And without having just done a full week of concerts, Miley wouldn't've had the leeway (or the pouting practice) necessary to encourage her makeup artist, Fermaine, to give her friend a makeover.
So. With an hour to go until tonight's showtime, Miley-as-Hannah lay on her back on a couch backstage and texted Lilly, wondering when she would just get here already, then prodded the dressing room door with her shoe.
"Jooooono," she called. "Are you done yet?"
[[For he who isn't blue right now, and NFB for distance!]]
But it was pretty fun anyway. And without having just done a full week of concerts, Miley wouldn't've had the leeway (or the pouting practice) necessary to encourage her makeup artist, Fermaine, to give her friend a makeover.
So. With an hour to go until tonight's showtime, Miley-as-Hannah lay on her back on a couch backstage and texted Lilly, wondering when she would just get here already, then prodded the dressing room door with her shoe.
"Jooooono," she called. "Are you done yet?"
[[For he who isn't blue right now, and NFB for distance!]]
As Miley knew well by now after four years of pop stardom, doing concerts every night -- even with the occasional break for dinner with the boyfriend or having friends come backstage -- was exhausting, especially during a time that was supposedly her winter break.
But it was pretty fun anyway. And without having just done a full week of concerts, Miley wouldn't've had the leeway (or the pouting practice) necessary to encourage her makeup artist, Fermaine, to give her friend a makeover.
So. With an hour to go until tonight's showtime, Miley-as-Hannah lay on her back on a couch backstage and texted Lilly, wondering when she would just get here already, then prodded the dressing room door with her shoe.
"Jooooono," she called. "Are you done yet?"
[[For he who isn't blue right now, and NFB for distance!]]
But it was pretty fun anyway. And without having just done a full week of concerts, Miley wouldn't've had the leeway (or the pouting practice) necessary to encourage her makeup artist, Fermaine, to give her friend a makeover.
So. With an hour to go until tonight's showtime, Miley-as-Hannah lay on her back on a couch backstage and texted Lilly, wondering when she would just get here already, then prodded the dressing room door with her shoe.
"Jooooono," she called. "Are you done yet?"
[[For he who isn't blue right now, and NFB for distance!]]
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.]]
"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.]]
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.]]
"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.]]
US Airways Flight 6303 | Sunday Afternoon
Dec. 18th, 2011 02:41 pmGenerally speaking, Miley liked being anonymous when she wasn't dressed up as Hannah. People were usually pretty nice to her, she didn't get badgered about autographs... it was a good system.
Other times? She felt like being a bit more noticed. Like at the airport.
Of course, Hannah Montana wasn't a real person, so she couldn't very well buy her a plane ticket. However, Miley could saunter on in with a pink glittery carry-on, get through security and everything requiring photo identification, and breeze into the ladies' room near the gate to change. And then if Hannah Montana happened to emerge, well, it wasn't like there were cameras in here, right?
Ooh. Miley squinted up to check. Well, if there were, she couldn't see any.
With that, she made her way back out into the terminal, and was promptly accosted by some little girls asking her to sign their backpacks. Which she did, gladly, before boarding the plane and flopping into her first-class seat for a tremendously comfortable next six hours.
Ah, it was good to be (almost) home.
[[And today we learn exactly how OCD I am. Yes, I looked up a real flight number. Don't you judge me. NFB/NFI.]]
Other times? She felt like being a bit more noticed. Like at the airport.
Of course, Hannah Montana wasn't a real person, so she couldn't very well buy her a plane ticket. However, Miley could saunter on in with a pink glittery carry-on, get through security and everything requiring photo identification, and breeze into the ladies' room near the gate to change. And then if Hannah Montana happened to emerge, well, it wasn't like there were cameras in here, right?
Ooh. Miley squinted up to check. Well, if there were, she couldn't see any.
With that, she made her way back out into the terminal, and was promptly accosted by some little girls asking her to sign their backpacks. Which she did, gladly, before boarding the plane and flopping into her first-class seat for a tremendously comfortable next six hours.
Ah, it was good to be (almost) home.
[[And today we learn exactly how OCD I am. Yes, I looked up a real flight number. Don't you judge me. NFB/NFI.]]
