nick/miley - The Only Ones (1/2)

[perfectlystill]

Fic title: The Only Ones
Pairing: Nick/Miley
Rating: PG:13
Word count: 19,200
Warnings/Spoilers: Infidelity.
Summary: Nick's pretty content with his life and where it seems to be headed, even if he can't quite believe he's getting married. Married. That is, until Miley shows up for the wedding and he realizes there's something about her that he just can't shake. Written for the jb_bigbang.
Link to art: here
Author's Notes: I am going to attempt not to write a novel here. Thanks to mozarts_friend for making the fantastic video linked to above. It is phenomenal and I cannot believe I have a video like that for this. Thanks so much to empressearwig and summerstorm for both being a part of this entire process, from helping me decide what story to write, even when I changed my mind three times or something like that, and for being fantastic betas, even at the last minute. This wouldn't be nearly what it is without them and any mistakes at this point are my own. You are rock stars. And I want to thank my entire flist for listening to me talk about this is a vague way far too much.

Nick spots the stack of crisp white invitations on the kitchen table. Picking one up, he notices the black lettering in some fancy font he doesn’t know the name of, and he can’t help but smile. It’s surreal. He knew when he proposed that it would be happening eventually, but it all seems to be moving so quickly; he can’t quite keep up. But somehow, he’s okay with that.

“Hey.” His fiancée, Hallie, comes in, flipping through her old, leather address book. She smiles brightly at him, her forest green eyes sparkling as she leans in and gives him a soft peck on the cheek. Tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear, she sits down in front of the stack of invitations and envelopes, and takes a deep breath.

“What’re you doing?” Nick asks, flipping through the pile of mail on the kitchen counter before opening the refrigerator and scanning its packed shelves for a diet coke. He finds one behind a half-empty bottle of mustard and grabs it, maneuvering the can out and shutting the door with a soft thud.

“I’m addressing the invitations,” Hallie says, flipping slowly through her address book. “Where do you keep your address book?”

“I have everything on my laptop.” Nick takes a long sip of the soda, feeling it burn slightly as it travels down his throat. “I can print you off a copy later.”

“Perfect, thanks.” She grabs a pen and scribbles on an old newspaper before grabbing a fresh envelope and writing their names carefully in the top left-hand corner.

***

The day they met almost two years ago he never thought this would be happening.

He had been wearing his sunglasses inside the little coffee shop and she had accidentally grabbed his order, mistaking it for her white chocolate mocha.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, laughing a little under her breath and handing it over to him.

“It’s fine.” Nick took the cup from her and smiled a little. He was waiting for Joe to show up and tell him this “big news” he had been building up for the past week. Looking around the small shop, he found a table and sat down, sipping his coffee and sighing. It was just like Joe to be late, and Nick had work to do later today.

And a minute later Hallie sat down at the table next to his, where her best friend Liz had already been sitting. “I accidentally grabbed some guy's drink by accident,” Hallie burst out, laughingly quietly.

“Seriously, Hallie?” Liz smiled widely, shaking her head back and forth in amusement. “Remember that time that guy at McDonalds grabbed your tray by accident, and you were all ‘Excuse me, mister? Mister?”

They both chuckled freely, the sound vibrantly contagious, yet subtle and intimate. Nick could feel his lips pulling up at the corners as he continued to scan his view of the window, trying to spot Joe. He heard Hallie stop laughing abruptly and then whisper, “that’s him” in his direction.

“Hi,” Nick said, turning his head.

“Oh, hey.” Hallie’s cheeks flushed and she pressed her lips together like she was desperately trying not to laugh again. “I’m sorry about that.”

Nick noticed her dark hair tied into a ponytail at the base of her neck. Her face was fresh and soft, she looked really…normal. Which was kind of refreshing, especially since he'd spent the previous day fending off a girl with his name tattooed on her wrist. “It’s fine, really.”

“Why are you wearing sunglasses inside?” Liz asked, raising her eyebrows at him, her curly red hair bobbing on her shoulders and her legs crossed, her chin resting on her elbow as she looks inquisitively at him.

“I’m facing the window?”

“Well, it makes you look like a douche.” She nodded her head once, decisive, before leaning back in her suede chair, content with sharing her opinion.

“Liz!” Hallie shouted, eyes widening at her friend as though she couldn’t quite believe the words that just left Liz’s mouth. The blush was creeping back up her cheeks and she pursed her lips.

“What? It’s true,” Liz responded coolly, tapping a finger against her cup. “Aren’t you the one who keeps telling me honesty is the best policy?” She was smirking with one eyebrow raised. Then she looked pointedly at Nick, whose sunglasses were still perfectly in place over his eyes.

Nick took a sip of his drink before taking the shades off, tucking them into the pocket of his jacket. He couldn’t pinpoint why he felt the need to oblige this girl, but she had an air of confidence and control about her that he respected. Also, it didn’t hurt anything if he could differentiate between blues again.

“Please ignore her, she’s socially challenged,” Hallie said, shaking her head as though they had some sort of understanding.

“It’s okay, I got the point.” Nick noticed how pure and concentrated her green eyes were. Something in the pit of his stomach reacted and he thought this had to be a bad thing, he hadn’t felt this way since-well, he didn’t like to think about that

“You look really familiar,” she suddenly stated, scrunching up her face and crinkling her nose and forehead. Biting her lip, she looked at Liz for a moment. “Don’t you think he looks familiar?”

Liz turned and studied his face for a moment, and then her eyes lit up as she took a gulp from her cup. “You know, he looks like that guy I dated in college. With the…” She motioned to her nose, tapping it gently a time or two.

“Oh, that must be it.” Hallie nodded, wrapping her palms around her cup, her shoulders slouching a little. “Again, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m Nick, by the way,” he offered, reaching out his hand for her to shake. She stared at it for a moment and Nick worried that she was confused by the gesture.

“Hallie,” she answered, finally reaching out and shaking his hand firmly. A grin began to form on her lips.

Liz glanced at Hallie for a moment, making a clicking sound with her tongue. “You can just ask her to dinner, she doesn’t have a boyfriend or anything.”

“Liz!” Hallie shrieked again, obviously embarrassed. But Nick noticed that her protest ended there. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was so used to her friend making these blunt comments all the time or if it was because she wouldn’t mind getting asked to dinner. Nick didn’t know which answer he wanted it to be.

“What? You really need to get laid,” Liz remarked, nodding and winking at Nick as through they were in cahoots.

Nick chuckled slightly and looked at Hallie one more time. “We could go out sometime.”

“You don’t have to, I’m really--”

“It’s okay. I want to,” he interjected. He really didn’t know he wanted to until the words left his mouth, but when they did he was excited. And this would probably help him avoid the blind dates Demi and Danielle kept trying to send him on. They tended to be even more disastrous than the girls with his name tattooed on them.

“Really?” she asked softly, glancing down at her drink before looking up at him again. Her face was skeptical, but there was something glistening behind her eyes, and Nick thought it was the same excitement he felt filling his stomach.

“Yeah.” He nodded, grabbing one of the napkins on his table and a permanent marker from his jacket-it may have been vain to carry it around just in case, but hey, it had been helpful a time or two. He wrote his number down and handed the napkin across the small expanse of space between their tables. “Here.”

Hallie fingered the napkin and then smoothed her fingers over the numbers. “Thanks, Nick.”

And suddenly the bell above the door jingled loudly and Joe half yelled across the small coffee shop that he was really sorry he was late. Plopping down across from Nick, he grabbed Nick's coffee and took a long swig. “You would not believe the traffic in this town, Nicky.”

“Right, because it’s not like I live here or anything,” Nick responded dryly while glancing at his watch. There was no way he was going to be late for that meeting just because Joe couldn’t anticipate LA traffic since he’d been living in New York for a year--and seriously, shouldn't New York traffic be just as bad anyway?

“Demi’s moving in with me!” He grinned widely and then frowned. “I was planning on building up the suspense first, but we haven’t told anyone yet, so.”

Nick’s mouth opened slightly and he inhaled sharply. He was happy for them, really, and it wasn’t like the arrangement was any different as it was. But making it official, that was a big deal. “Have you told mom and dad yet?”

“No.” Joe bit the inside of his cheek and seemed to deflate a little. “But it’s fine. I mean, we’re grownups now.”

“Sure,” Nick answered curtly before standing up. “Which is why I have a meeting to get to.”

“Already? But I just got here,” Joe protested, finishing off Nick’s coffee and throwing the cup into a nearby trashcan. “Can’t you like, move it or something? We need to strategize.”

“Strategize what?” Nick asked skeptically. Joe didn’t usually plan things, and when he did, it was never a good thing. Like that time he decided they should make every room in Nick’s house themed. There was no way he needed aGillian’s Island bedroom, or a Hell’s Kitchen Kitchen.

Joe sighed exasperated, like it should be obvious. “How to convince Kevin and Danielle to name their children Joe Jr. and Demi Jr.”

“I have to go.” Nick stood up and slipped his sunglasses back on. “See you later, Hallie. Nice to meet you, Liz.” He smiled at them before walking out, hearing Joe ask what the heck just happened and introducing himself to the “ladies” and telling them that sorry, he’d been “taken for seven years” and how that wasn’t changing anytime soon since he was “ass backwards in love.”

***

On their first date Nick took Hallie to a low-key restaurant outside of LA. He was pretty sure by the way she kept adjusting her seatbelt and looking out the window that she was afraid he was kidnapping her or something. “You have a really nice car,” she blurted out after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

“Thanks.” Nick tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of whatever band Kevin was trying to pitch to him today. Nick usually didn’t like to produce for just anyone, but Kevin had a good ear.

“It’s really clean, too,” Hallie said, fidgeting with her seatbelt again. She sighed quietly and crossed her hands in her lap. Her black hair was curled softly and she wasn’t wearing much more make-up than the last time he saw her at the coffee shop. Her sundress fell just before her knees. She was prettier than Nick remembered.

“I don’t like it littered with diet coke cans, so I tend to take them out,” he responded, flashing his blinker to switch lanes.

“Sorry, I just. My car is like, ten years old and there are wrappers everywhere.” She crossed her legs and looked out the window at the pavement stretching before them. The lights of LA were behind them in the distance and the glow of a smaller, friendlier town beckoned.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t take your car then.” Nick smirked, taking the exit without even thinking about it. “We’re almost there, don’t worry.”

Hallie seemed to sigh in relief. She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, loosening a few of her curls. Her shoulders relaxed as she leaned back into her seat. “So, what do you do?”

Nick hesitated briefly before answering. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her, he was just worried she would start acting differently once she knew. She was probably one of the only girls in LA who didn’t know who he was when she first spotted him. And it was just really nice for a change. She hadn’t judged him instantly, negatively or positively, just because of who she thought he was supposed to be. “I, uh, I’m in the music industry.”

“Cool.” She nodded her head minutely to the music. “I’m a journalist,” she said, smiling a little when they pulled into the diner’s parking lot. Nick hoped it was because the conversation was starting to flow. And if it was because she was hungry, that’d be okay, too, better than her thinking he was creep, at least.

“Not gossip columns I hope,” he answered, pulling into a parking spot before realizing that the car was unbelievably crooked. He backed out, looking over his shoulder to readjust before pulling in again and putting the car into park.

“Why, do you have any dish on Justin Bieber’s sexuality?” she asked seriously, unbuckling her seatbelt and stretching her sandaled feet out in front of her.

Nick laughed quietly, looking at her for a little longer than was probably polite since this was their first datel. But he already had a feeling that there was more to her than he initially thought. “No, and I don’t think I care either.”

“Good. I actually work at the LA Times. Right now I just write in the Life section, but I really want to do features. And I hate gossip magazines, for the record.”

Nick thought she was pretty close to being perfect.

They were halfway through dinner when Hallie seemed to notice that the waitress was whispering with the hostess about him, and then Hallie scrutinized him carefully before a light visibly went off in her head, her eyes widening slightly in that way of hers that Nick was starting to remember. “Oh my god, you’re Nick…Jones?”

“Jonas,” he corrected with a sigh. Well, Nick thought, her not knowing was nice while it lasted.

“That’s why you looked so familiar!” She grinned brightly, taking a sip of her water. “I’m going to have to tell Liz that you don’t look like her ex-boyfriend. Well, you sort of do, but that’s not the point.”

“Does it matter to you?” Nick pressed his lips into a smile and tried not to glare at the waitress and hostess. He was really starting to like Hallie, too, and now he was pretty sure that it was going to be ruined. Maybe he would go on that date with the publicist Dani kept trying to set him up with.

Hallie cut a piece of chicken carefully and chuckled softly. “Only if you care that I hated your music when I was a teenager.”

“Oh, really?” Nick raised his eyebrows, a little bit, disappointed by that, but there was a sense of relief washing over him as she chewed her chicken, nodding her head and resting her elbow on the table.

“I was much too cool for that. I thought the Pussycat Dolls were a quality band.”

“I think this date is over,” Nick responded dryly, a smirk appearing on his mouth. Thank god he wouldn’t have to go get Chinese with the publicist, he was really dreading it for a minute.

“My taste has improved, don’t worry,” Hallie assured him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Nick believed that.

***

They’re in that same restaurant now, and she’s chewing thoughtfully on some shrimp as she pretends to listen to Nick explain how horrified he is that autotune is still being used. Nick knows this because she begins to nod a little too often for it to be normal.

“How was your day?” he asks, taking a sip of his diet coke. She pays attention to his rants far longer than anyone but Demi can, and Hallie doesn’t even have any idea what he’s talking about half the time. He really loves that about her.

“It’s been good. I really like editing, but I’m thinking about switching back to writing again. I just miss investigating sometimes, you know?” She shakes the pepper shaker about eight times over her fish.

“You got enough there?” Nick smirks, running a hand through his curls.

“Don’t mock me. Oh, and I’m almost finished addressing the invitations.” She brightens immediately when she starts talking about the wedding. She gestures with her hands and her cheeks flush slightly.

“Already? Did you finalize the guest list?” Nick knows that Hallie wants a big wedding and that she’s practically inviting everyone from her hometown-it’s just that small, but he figured she’d ask him who he wanted coming first. They had talked about some of the people, but still.

“Not quite. But I was on a roll and I did everyone from your list that I knew we had to invite. We can go over it together this weekend,” she says. Cutting into her freshly peppered salmon, she seems to remember something. “Did you want Miley to come?”

“What?” Nick almost drops his fork, the question is so unexpected. It’s not that they’ve never talked about Miley before, because they have, once or twice. But Nick didn’t even realize he still had her in the address book. Which is ridiculous, because he never removed her or anything.

“Miley? I saw her name and thought it’d be nice to invite her. Liz says she just got divorced and--”

“Oh, right.” Nick shakes his head, trying to clear it. “I heard about that.”

“So, yes? We should invite her?” Hallie spears the salmon with her fork and eats it, closing her eyes, savoring the freshness and flavor like she always does the first time she eats anything at a restaurant.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Nick mumbles. He feels a little lightheaded, and sometimes he forgets that while Hallie hates gossip magazines, Liz is addicted to them and tells Hallie anything she deems either “sadly hilarious” or “important for her love life.” He kind of wonders which category this fell under.

Nick also forgets that Miley was married to Liam for four years. They stopped talking a long time before she was even engaged, and then she didn’t invite him to the wedding. It had stung more than he ever admitted to anyone, but he got over it, was happy for her. And occasionally he’ll think about her and miss her, but it’s always a fleeting moment that doesn’t seem to stick because everything else is so hectic. Now she’s divorced, and Nick forgets about that, too. Because it stings in a completely different way when he remembers.

***

Miley gets the invitation to Nick’s wedding and reads it over six times before it really sinks in. It’s ridiculously strange; she never thought this would be happening. She’s happy for him, but at the same time, she needs to sit down. Her legs are wobbly and her heart is racing and she feels faint.

And she can’t go. Obviously. They haven’t spoken in, well, forever. And she didn’t even invite him to her wedding because Liam didn’t think it would be a good idea. So add that uncomfortable feeling to it all, and it’s just too much.

But, she kind of wants to be there. To support him and-she looks back at the invitation-Hallie. And maybe they could start talking again and be friends, because Miley’s absolutely certain she needs more friends. There have been too many nights lying in bed alone feeling numb with no one but Demi to call. Hallie could really like her and then she could go to lunch with Demi and Danielle and Hallie and she wouldn’t be lonely anymore.

But, no. That’s impossible. Because it’s Nick. And he probably doesn’t even want her there anyway; he was probably just being polite. Or maybe it was a pity invite, like, “we’re really sorry your marriage ended in a trainwreck, so we’re inviting you to watch us live happily ever after.” So clearly going is out of the question.

Then her cell rings and she picks it up, thankful for a distraction. She hasn’t overthought something this much in years. “Hey.”

“Hey, Miles,” Demi says over the line. She sounds so good and happy and even though they talked a few days ago, Miley has missed her more than is probably normal.

“Dem! What’s up?” Miley crosses her legs and rests them on the coffee table, leaning her head back over the couch.

“Not much. Writing songs for the new record.” There’s some beeping in the background and Miley assumes Demi’s stuck in traffic somewhere.

Miley smiles, picturing Demi’s head leaning against the glass as she sits patiently on 5th Avenue. “When do you start recording?” she asks. Demi’s been really successful; she won a Grammy last year and couldn’t stop grinning for about four months.

“Two weeks, I think?”

“Cool.” Miley takes a deep breath and moves her legs off the coffee table, moving to lay down on the couch. “So, I got invited to Nick’s wedding.”

“Aw, really? We can sit together!” Demi screeches loudly, her voice rising slightly in pitch.

“Um, I can’t go,” Miley whispers over the phone, shutting her eyes tightly as if it will block out the rest of the world. She already knows that Demi isn’t going to jive with this.

“Why not? You’re busy then? I could have sworn--”

“No, I just, can’t. And he probably doesn’t even want me to come anyway.” She sounds more disappointed than she expected to and assures herself that she doesn’t even want to go anyway. So, it’s fine.

“Miley, seriously, I’m sure he does,” Demi says sincerely, her words a little quieter now. “Why else would he invite you?”

“To be polite?” Miley rolls her eyes. Nick practically gets off knowing he’s the bigger person. Miley sits up, crossing her legs pretzel-style. This new couch is so uncomfortable she may have to return it. She really should have taken the house in LA, the one that was already furnished. But New York seemed more appealing-farther away from reality, closer to Demi.

“Whatever. And I’m sure Hallie really wants to meet you,” Demi responds. She sounds seriously bored now, as though they’ve had this conversation a million times already, even though they haven’t.

“Seriously?” Miley isn’t sure she believes that. And Demi has been known to exaggerate facts to fit whatever her agenda is, like that time she “heard” the new sushi place down the street was the “best ever” and then they both ended up with food poisoning.

“Yeah, whenever I talk about you she says you sound really sweet.”

“Sweet?” Yeah, Miley doesn’t believe a word of this.

“Yes. Now stop being a bitch and go,” Demi huffs loudly. Miley hears her opening a door and thanking the driver. There’s static background noise, a myriad of different voices and some swooshing that sounds like wind, and then it all goes quiet again.

“Well, I’m going to be in LA the week before anyway, so…” She still isn’t sure this is a good idea. In fact, she’s pretty sure it’s a terrible one, but she has no resolve anymore.

“See, it’s like, fate or something,” Demi chirps happily, the ding of the elevator barely making its way through the receiver.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.” Miley can practically hear the joy in Demi’s voice, see the grin she’s sporting. “Do you want to go to dinner with Joe and me on Monday?”

“Sure,” Miley says, starting to smile too. “So you called me because?”

“I needed someone to talk to while stuck in traffic,” Demi laughs loudly, contagiously. And Miley can’t help it, she grins.

***

The first time Nick realized he was in love with Hallie, they were sitting on the couch with Liz in her tiny apartment watching some idiotic reality show hosted by Julie Chen. Hallie and Liz were laughing wildly at a girl who had to wear a peanut costume because she couldn’t hit the softball into the correct hole or something. The girl was currently swearing wildly at a scrawny-looking guy.

Nick excused himself to go get a glass of water from the kitchen because he was worried that all his brain cells were dying. After taking a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water from the sink, he took a few sips.

Hallie walked in, smirking a little at him. “You hate it, don’t you?”

"Well…” Nick said, shaking his head slightly. “I guess I just don’t get it.”

“Oh, there’s nothing to get,” Hallie assured him, leaning against the counter opposite him. She brushed her newly cut bangs out of her eyes and twirled a ring around her finger a few times. “That’s the whole point.”

“Okay.” Nick nodded, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows. “I thought you two were more sophisticated than that.”

“Everyone deserves a guilty pleasure.” And then she bit her lip, grabbed the glass of water out of his hand and took a small sip before placing it on the counter. She positioned her hands delicately on his shoulders and kissed his temple. “You can leave if you want, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Nick said, moving the glass into the sink and kissing her one more time before she headed back to the living room.

And that was it. He was a goner.

***

Demi squeezes Miley’s hand and Miley looks at her best friend, rolling her eyes. She doesn’t need to be treated like this is the hardest thing she’s ever done. She’s not even nervous. All she wants to do is go in, say hey, and leave. But Demi is convinced this is going to be some big, important thing that Miley has lost sleep over. And it’s just not.

“Hey!” A girl Miley assumes is Hallie answers the door, smiling brightly. Her dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail hanging at the base of her neck, her dark jeans and simple gray t-shirt look very casual. Miley finds herself being surprised that Hallie’s here. Which is a little stupid, since she and Nick are engaged.

“Hi!” Demi chirps, letting go of Miley's hand and stepping into the house, hugging Hallie tightly. Miley follows Demi in, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable. She wishes Demi was still holding her hand. “This is Miley.”

“Oh, hi, Miley. I’m Hallie. I’m so excited to meet you.” Hallie grins widely, putting out her hand for Miley to shake. Miley eyes it for a second and then takes it, forcing herself to smile.

“Thanks. You, too. Where’s Nick?” Not that she wants to see him or anything, she’s just curious.

“Oh, he’s not home right now, he’ll be back in a few hours.” She begins to walk into the kitchen, and they all sit around the table. Everything looks a little messy, there are dishes piled in the sink and newspaper clippings littering one of the counters.

Miley looks around and sees a picture of Nick and Hallie, and then Hallie and some girl with vibrant red hair, and then it hits her. Hallie lives here. With Nick. And she doesn’t know why she wants to throw up all of the sudden, but convinces herself it must be the food she ate on the plane. It’s just, she assumed Nick’s parents would have killed him or something, and also, he’s Nick. Because Joe and Demi living together was apparently very traumatic for the Jonas parents, and she figured Nick would avoid a repeat experience at all costs.

“Do you guys want anything? Coffee, tea?” Hallie asks, already pushing her chair back from the table to get up.

“Some tea would be great,” Demi says, crossing her legs and resting her fingers on the wooden surface.

“Miley?” Hallie looks at her carefully, pressing her lips together like she’s trying to think of a way to make this less awkward, even though she knows it’s not going to happen.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“So what brings you guys by?” Hallie takes the teapot off the stove and fills it with water from the sink, leaning against the counter and glancing back at Demi and Miley.

“Well, Miley’s going to be in town until the wedding and I thought you two could get to know each other, or something,” Demi says awkwardly.

“That sounds nice.” Hallie shuts off the sink and puts the teapot back on the stove, opening up a cabinet and searching through it, taking out a few different boxes of teabags.

“It really does,” Miley responds, feeling a headache coming on. She rubs her forehead for a moment and turns to Demi, whispering, “I am going to kill you.” It's not that she doesn't want to get to know Hallie, it's just that she'd rather not do it right this instant.

“Do you want earl gray, orange or raspberry lemon?” Hallie asks, looking through the boxes of teabags.

“Raspberry lemon, please,” Demi says, smirking at Miley. “You guys could have dinner together tonight.”

“Well, I don’t want to intrude.” Miley bites the inside of her cheek and shoots Demi a death glare. This is so not funny.

“No, no, no, that's totally fine. I'm just going to cook something up and you can join us.” Hallie takes out a mug with an inspirational saying printed on it that Miley can’t quite make out from this distance and plops the teabag into it, still standing next to the kettle as it heats up.

“See, it's totally fine.” Demi nods her head, kicking Miley’s calf lightly under the table.

“Your head. On a stick.” Miley kicks Demi back a little harder and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. When she agreed to visit Nick and make sure she was actually invited to the wedding-she still thought it was some sort of fluke-she didn't see this coming; she didn’t know Demi was this evil.

“I’m sure Nick’s excited to see you,” Hallie states, scrunching up her eyebrows in confusion as she looks back and forth between Demi and Miley. The high-pitched whistle of the teapot cuts through the air and she quickly turns it off, pouring it into the mug and bringing it over to the table.

“Oh, right.” Miley crosses her legs and sits back in her chair, squaring her shoulders and sitting up a little straighter. “That’ll be great.”

“So, what brings you to LA? Besides the wedding, I mean,” Hallie asks, scooting her chair closer to the table and adjusting her engagement ring on her finger.

“I have some meetings about a movie I’m doing,” Miley answers, staring at the ring for a moment before looking back up at Hallie. She remembers her own empty finger and rubs the back of her neck.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Hallie sounds genuinely interested as she leans in closer.

“But she has nothing all of next week,” Demi adds, grinning as she looks back and forth between Miley and Hallie. She moves the teabag around her mug and takes a sip, grimaces, and lets the teabag sit again.

“Awesome. But I will be super busy with the wedding.” Hallie smiles softly at Demi, before running a hand over her ponytail. “Do you want something to put the teabag on?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ll just use a napkin,” Demi says, grabbing one from the middle of the table.

“Do you guys want to pick your table? I mean we have a tentative arrangement, but…” Hallie’s green eyes light up at the mention of wedding planning, and she looks like she’s glowing.

“Sure.” Demi takes another sip of her tea before taking the teabag out. Hallie gets up to retrieve the seating chart and Demi turns to Miley. “Isn’t she so nice?”

“This is weird.” Miley shakes her head, sighing heavily. She looks around the kitchen again, taking all of it in. How they’re older now, mature. She can remember sitting in the Jonas’s kitchen when she was fourteen, throwing cheerios at Joe and helping Nick make mac’n’cheese.

“I’m sure it’s weird for her too.” Demi nods, glancing at the clock on the oven and gulping her tea down faster.

“Why?” Hallie seems to be the picture of perfection: calm, cool, collected. Miley’s not surprised she’s the kind of girl Nick’s marrying.

“It’s not like she’s completely clueless,” Demi says, looking pointedly at Miley.

Miley shakes her head and blinks a few times before looking down at her hands. She hasn’t talked to Nick in years, and there’s absolutely no reason to bring up anything that happened eight, ten years ago. Miley doesn’t like to think about it anyway, it makes her feel so…young.

“Well, I have to catch my flight.” Demi finishes the last of her tea and gets up, throwing the teabag and napkin into a white trashcan under the sink and putting her cup in the dishwasher.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” Miley raises her eyebrows. She was serious about Demi’s head and that stick.

“I’ll be back in twelve days,” Demi says, coming over and kissing Miley’s head. She picks up her purse and swings it over her shoulder, backing away from the table. "Besides, Joe will cry if I’m not back tonight.”

“Fine,” Miley pouts, crossing her arms, and slouching in her chair. She feels shanghaied.

***

When Nick comes home and walks into the kitchen he blinks a few times. Miley’s sitting there, looking bored out of her mind while Hallie flips through the seating chart. “Hey,” he says cautiously, walking into the room and eyeing the stack of dishes that has somehow accumulated since he went to the studio this morning.

“Hey!” Hallie looks up and smiles brightly at him. “Miley’s going to be in town for the next two weeks.”

“Hi,” Miley replies, looking up at him with eyes bluer than he remembers. Nick is struck by how different she looks. Her wavy hair tumbling an inch past her shoulder, her face more structured and mature. But she still looks like Miley.

“Hey.” He looks past her to the backyard and notes the grass probably needs to be cut sometime soon. And then he looks back at her, the way she’s worrying her lip between her teeth, sitting on her hands. He closes his eyes for a moment, recalling the last time he saw her, really saw her. Her hair was pulled back and she wasn’t wearing much make-up. She had looked at him for a brief moment and nodded her head. The sunlight was beginning to fade as she walked away to her car without looking back. With the sun shining through the glass doors she looks almost the same. And Nick feels the same way he did that day.

“What do you want for dinner?” Hallie asks, pushing the seating chart away and sliding her chair back. She walks over to the refrigerator and scavenges through it. “We have some chicken that I could make.”

“That’s fine.” Nick looks at Miley again, pressing his lips together and rocking on his feet. “How are you?”

“Okay,” she whispers, looking down at her hands before standing up.

“Miley's staying for dinner. But you probably figured that out,” Hallie says setting the package of chicken breasts onto the counter and going over to the sink to wash her hands. “Dinner should be ready in half an hour or so.” Hallie dries her hands on a dishtowel and takes out a pan and some olive oil to cook the chicken. “Nick, will you make salads?”

“Sure.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking between the two girls. “Miley doesn’t eat salad though.”

“Really?” Hallie looks at Miley, confusion coloring her eyes as she cuts through the plastic on the package of chicken and places a breast in the pan.

“I, uh, don’t really like lettuce. Or a lot of green vegetables.” Miley tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and moves towards the hallway like she’s getting ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

“Oh,” Hallie sighs, closing her eyes as she racks her brain for some other vegetable they could eat. “You guys can check the freezer I guess?”

“No,” Miley squeaks, shifting herself more towards the hallway and playing with her hands, cracking her knuckles quietly. “I’ll just pick around the lettuce.”

“No, no, you’re our guest.” Hallie plops the chicken into the pan and walks over to the sink again-she washes her hands so much she goes through bottles of lotion like they’re water. “Nick’ll take you to the freezer in the garage to pick something out.”

Nick glances at Miley, who presses her lips together and takes a step toward him this time. Her sandals make a soft noise against the floor that resonates in his head. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he nods his head and starts toward the garage, flicking on the light switch and opening the door for her.

When they get to the freezer, he opens the lid and rummages around, the constant churning noise as the ice builds a welcome distraction from the silence that he keeps focusing on. “There’s cauliflower, mixed vegetables, corn?” He takes out the bags, holding them up for her appraisal.

“Um,” Miley looks between the bags of frozen vegetables, “Corn?”

“Alright.” Nick puts the other bags back and shuts the freezer, leaning back against it for a moment. “I, uh, didn’t know you were coming.”

Miley nods her head minutely, running a hand over her forehead. “Demi brought me over and shanghaied me.” She pauses, scrapping her shoe back over the carpet. “I’m staying at the Four Seasons.”

“Cool.” Nick just wants to get this dinner over with as quickly as possible.

***

Forks and knives clink loudly, and Miley looks back and forth between Nick and Hallie wondering if this is how dinner is every night or if it’s just her presence that’s causing it. She’s pretty sure it’s the latter. She can hear the faint bark of a dog from the next yard over and glances out the window. “So, you guys don’t have any pets?” She’s grasping at straws. All Nick has done is nod his head and say “yes” or “no” when appropriate, and Hallie just brings up newspaper stories Miley didn’t even know counted as hard-hitting journalism. Because seriously, does anyone actually care about a shortage of hydro-blah-blah-blah at the sewage plant?

“No. I would love a dog, but I’m allergic,” Hallie says solemnly, pushing the corn she smothered in pepper around her plate. And honestly, if she wanted the salads, Miley would have been fine with that.

“We should go out for drinks tomorrow,” Nick proclaims suddenly.

“That sounds good.” Miley scoops the last bit of corn off her plate and chews like it’s her mission to enjoy this damn food as much as possible.

“Tomorrow? I have to work late. But you two should totally go.” Hallie smiles widely and her shoulders slacken in some sort of relief. Miley doesn’t want to be too hard on her because it’s obvious this whole situation is just as awkward for Hallie, but it would really help if she’d stop smirking all the time.

“Uh, are you sure?” Nick’s voice is a little unsteady as he glances at Miley again.

“Seriously, go. Have a shot for me.” Hallie wipes her face with a napkin and stares a Nick for a moment, her eyes unblinking.

“Sure. It’ll be fun.” He sounds completely unconvinced as he spears the last piece of chicken on his plate.

***

They enter the bar pushing through a frenzy of paparazzi trying to blind them with their cameras. When they get in though, everything seems to calm down and Nick takes a deep breath; it’s been a long, long time since he’s been stalked so ferociously, and he can’t say it was long enough. Nobody really blinks an eyelash when he’s out with Hallie anymore, but they tend to stay out of the photog hotspots anyway. But he can picture the headline in Us Weekly now: Nick and Miley reunited, Hallie’s tearful protests as she watches him slip away. Or something equally untrue and lame.

Miley pushes past him and slides onto a stool at the counter, sighing and ordering a gin martini. Nick sits next to her and asks for the two shots he promised Hallie he’d get for them to drink. It’s the least he can do after she complained for twenty solid minutes about how disastrous dinner was yesterday--she’s worried Demi will never like her as much as Miley and thinks Miley must hate her because she couldn’t keep the conversation going.

Nick fingers his shot glass, and turns slightly so he can have a better look at Miley. “So, it’s been a long time.”

Leaning her elbow on the bar, her neck cradled in her hand, Miley smirks at him sarcastically. “Yeah.”

“What?” Well, she still baffles him, that’s for sure.

“You don’t even want me here,” she says, turning back to her martini and taking a sip, ignoring the shot placed next to it.

Nick frowns, furrowing his eyebrows, studying the way her hair frames her face and the way the dim lights of the bar make a sort of halo around her head. “That’s not true, Miles.”

“I’m not blind, Nicky,” she retorts, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “You don’t even want to be here right now.”

“No.” He downs his shot and swipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Looking at her for a moment, he runs his hand through his curls and sighs. “That’s not true.”

“No, it’s fine,” Miley whispers unsteadily, bending her head down so the curtain of hair keeps Nick from seeing her eyes.

“You know, I’m not the only one who never dialed the phone.” He really does feel bad about that now, but he’s not going to be harassed for being a crappy friend when she didn’t even invite him to her wedding. They both screwed this up.

“Let’s not talk about this,” Miley breathes out quietly, grabbing her shot glass and tilting her head back, downing it quickly. “How’ve you been?”

“Okay…I’ve missed you.” Nick feels his cheeks flushing a little, and he doesn’t have a clue as to why, but he knows there’s no way in hell Miley will be able to tell with this lighting, so it doesn’t matter anyway.

Miley looks at him and smiles sadly, her eyes wide and vulnerable. “Me too.”

“So…” Nick smiles back, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders suddenly. “How are you really?”

She closes her eyes and nods her head. “Divorced.” Looking at him, she frowns deeply. “I’m just another Hollywood statistic.”

“But you live in New York.”

She laughs lightly and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before ordering a beer for him. “So you’re a producer now. That’s…so great.” Her eyes are glowing and so blue and the sincerity laced in her voice makes Nick want to reach out and-no.

He doesn’t want to do anything but talk to her, to get to know who she is now. “Yeah. It is really great. There are some awesome acts out there and I’m so happy I get to work with them.”

“You should produce for me sometime,” she says, grinning even wider, twirling her toothpick-complete with speared olives-around before placing it on a napkin.

“But you haven’t put out an album in…three years.” Nick raises an eyebrow at her, taking a sip from his beer; it goes down his throat with a fizz and god, it’s been too long.

“Exactly.” And then she’s leaning in so close Nick can smell the gin radiating off her breath and see that her lips are a little chapped. He brushes her bangs out of her eyes and she asks, “Nick?”

“Yeah?” He’s pretty sure that he can’t breathe anymore. She just has this affect on him where she’s so…bright that she blinds him to everything else. He used to think it was a problem, but now, now he isn’t so sure.

“We should get really drunk.” Her words are clear and her eyes are searching his for confirmation and he’s a little worried she’ll fall off her stool when she leans in a little farther, her breath close to his ear. “For old time’s sake.”

That doesn’t even make an ounce of sense. But he responds, “For old time’s sake,” anyway.

It takes an hour and a half until they’re both giggling uncontrollably and trying to remember if that time Joe ate a whole package of pasta in ten minutes he was eating spaghetti or linguine. Their foreheads are so close they’re almost touching and suddenly things are quiet and Nick can’t even hear the buzzing background noise of the bar.

Miley bites her lip and murmurs, “Liam fucked a twenty-year-old blonde intern.”

There’s rage bubbling up deep in Nick’s chest and if he wasn’t so sure that walking is impossible, he’d probably want to go find Liam and punch him in the face. “The reports said you filed irreconcilable differences.” (So, apparently he retains some of the gossip Liz tells him.)

“There were. He thought it was okay to fuck the intern and I didn’t. Irreconcilable differences.” Her words slur and she nods definitively, biting the inside of her cheek and swaying a little. She grabs his arm so hard she’ll probably leave nail marks.

“I would never cheat on you,” Nick says. He’s really hot all of the sudden and there’s a droplet of sweat on his forehead, so he wipes it away with a napkin.

Leaning in really close, the lights that he thought were dim seem much brighter now. His breathing is erratic and he blinks over and over, looking at her. “Miley…”

“But you’re engaged,” she whispers, letting her hand slacken, running it back down his arm. “So you wouldn’t cheat on her.”

Nick exhales quietly, scooting a little closer to her (if he wasn’t so wasted right now, he’d probably be worried about falling off the barstool), their foreheads attach for a minute. “But-“ his voice cracks. He looks at her, blinking rapidly, hoping she understands what he’s trying to say. She just looks back, eyes darting over his face. “But-”
And then she’s giggling, turning slightly and hitting her head softly on the bar, her hair draping her face, a few strands falling into an empty shot glass. “Butt,” she chuckles, hiccuping.

Feeling wetness form in his eyes, Nick’s not sure if it’s because he's started laughing so hard his sides feel cramped, or if it’s because of something else entirely. He reaches out and strokes some of Miley’s hair and she lifts her head, grinning at him, her teeth gleaming.

The bartender says he’s cutting them off. Miley asks him to call for a cab.

When they arrive back at his house, they stumble up the walkway, over tipping the pretentious, snotty cabdriver who had the nerve to lecture them about drinking, they’re not even that drunk, Nick thinks, especially compared to the time Joe went to a bar in Jersey and sang an ear-splitting rendition of “Hey Jude.” He and Miley did not attempt to ruin a classic Beatles song, so clearly, they’re still okay on the scale of drunkenness.

Nick’s arm is wrapped around Miley’s shoulder as she leans on him for support, desperately trying not to fall over as he reaches out a steady hand to jiggle the doorknob open. Miley’s giggling quietly, a few pieces of hair sticking to her forehead as she rambles on about something Noah did a few weeks ago. Biting his lip, Nick attempts to focus on turning the knob when suddenly the door cracks open, and there on the other side is Hallie, raising her eyebrows at them.

“Hell-o,” Miley says, breaking the syllables up, lifting her arm slightly and waving as though she’s the queen of England.

“Hi guys.” Hallie opens the door a little wider as Nick and Miley almost trip over the step into the house, arms still clinging to each other as they giggle.

Miley’s head drops into the curve of Nick’s neck and she inhales deeply, her breath tickling goosebumps. “You smell like smoke,” she slurs, flexing the fingers that are attached to his shoulder.

“When I said you two should get a drink, I didn’t think you’d come back completely wasted.” Hallie has an amused or annoyed smirk on her face--Nick can't really tell at the moment--as she helps Miley take off her jacket, which was really just around one of her shoulders anyway.

“We’re not wasted,” Nick protests, grabbing onto the railing of the staircase and pressing his lips together seriously before breaking into a grin.

“Sure,” Hallie breathes out, wrapping her arm around Miley’s shoulder and helping her up the stairs-not that she needs the aide, since she’s not that drunk. Seriously. “How about you stay here tonight?” Hallie asks Miley softly.

After what feels like hours on end, Nick sits down on the stairs, scooting backwards until he hits the wall. His head aches and he runs a hand through his thick curls. He focuses on breathing and lets his heavy eyelids close slowly. But then Hallie’s there, pulling him up. She’s warm and smells like soap and for the first time since she opened the door Nick notices that her hair’s damp from a shower.

“You’re nice,” Nick exhales, leaning most of his weight on her as he stumbles over a few stairs. Hallie holds him steady as they continue down the hallway, heading for their bedroom. Hallie takes off his shoes like he’s a baby and tucks him under the covers, kissing him goodnight as she turns off the light and crawls into bed next to him.

He falls asleep quickly, heat radiating from everywhere around him. Nick hadn’t even known he was cold.

***

Shuffling into the kitchen, Nick feels like the walking dead. His head is pounding in a way it never has before, his eyes feel glued shut and there’s sweat sticking to his forehead. And he’s pretty sure he threw up on the carpet some time early this morning, but when he finally got out of bed around noon, there was no sign of it.

When he looks around the room, blinking at the bright light streaming in from the windows, Miley’s sitting at the table, looking just as sick as he feels, staring at mushy cheerios on her spoon.

“He’s alive,” Hallie laughs loudly, the noise reverberating in Nick’s head as he groans. “Do you want some cereal?”

Miley glances up at him and smiles softly. “You should take the cereal. It settles the tummy.” Her voice is at a much more suitable volume than Hallie’s.

“Sure,” Nick sighs, sitting down heavily in a chair across from Miley and resisting the urge to bang his head against the table. The hangover mixed with his levels being all funky is probably the worst thing that can happen to a person. Ever. Besides like, dying or getting the bubonic plague.

He can hear Hallie rustling around in the kitchen, but he’s looking at Miley like she’s a completely different person, probably because she is. He doesn’t even know her anymore. Yet, he understands that her small, tight smile means they’re okay again.

“Oh shoot, we’re out of milk,” Hallie sighs, biting her lip and closing the refrigerator door. “I’ll check the garage.” Quickly, she leaves the room as though she’s on a fun little journey. Nick’s sure she’s enjoying his pain right now, probably because of that one time he teased her for a month about not being able to hold her liquor at her cousin’s graduation party.

Miley dips her spoon into her bowl again and swallows the cereal, closing her eyes as it goes down her throat. Her face is pale and pieces of hair are sticking out all over he head. “I hate that she’s not hung-over.”

“You’re not the one who’s going to be reminded of this moment for the next two years,” Nick groans lowly, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He’s pretty positive after this he’s going to sleep until tomorrow morning when he has to go into the studio again.

“Sucks to be you.” Miley’s fork clanks annoying against her bowl as she drops it, cringing at the sound. “Sorry.”

“So…” Nick trails off. Somehow, despite his head feeling like it was sawed in half, he remembers everything from last night. And it’s, well, not good would be an understatement. “I’m sorry about last night.”

Recognition of some sort seems to flash behind Miley’s eyes for a moment, but then she stops her head mid shake, rubbing her temples with her index and middle fingers. “Wait, what?” she asks quietly, her eyes scanning his face for any sign that’ll give away what he’s talking about.

“Nevermind.”

“I thought I was the bitch.” She presses her lips together, scrunching her eyebrows up in confusion.

Nick wishes he hadn’t said anything, it would have saved him a lot of embarrassment. “No, seriously, don’t worry about it.” From the look on her face, Nick’s one hundred and ten percent sure she’s going to worry about it. This totally sucks.

She takes a deep breath, picking up her spoon and twirling it around for a little while, studying his face; she’s weighting options in her head. “Fine.”

“What?” Nick can feel his mouth hanging open a few centimeters.

Miley lifts her eyes and begins to respond but then Hallie’s walking back in and explaining that there wasn’t any milk, so she’ll make mac’n’cheese if they want (the Velveta kind with the saucy, thick cheese that doesn't require any milk), even though Nick never wants her to-well, it is his specialty-and Miley agrees, flashing Nick a small smile.

part two