The beach was empty and a blanket of starry night covered Malibu. The surf pounded the beach as late night beachcombers searched the beach for relics or artifacts as they collected crab or grunion. Surrounded by the shadows of beach houses and rising hills, these late night denizens rarely saw any activity except for the songs from the old light house or the odd headlights arriving up at one of the beach houses. At one of those houses, a limousine pulled in as one of it's parties raced around, opened the other back door and pulled out a body that seemed dead but was still just barely walking. Miley Stewart the pop star was half-asleep and barely awake. Known to the world as Hannah Montana, she was exhausted from her benefit concert to raise money for African relief. Even joined by Kellie Pickler, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Jesse McCartney, Carrie Underwood and several others, she felt as tired if she had did the concert by herself. Her father guided her into the house one step at a time, their shadows crossing the open and dark first floor lit by moonlight and toward the stairway on the landing lit by a solitary light up top. The girl blindly and instinctively lifting one leg after another as if she were a zombie, her father merely there to keep her from falling down the steps. On the top step, she almost turned and headed for the bed in her brother's room.

"And no…" Her father kept her on her way. "You're not that kind of brother and sister." Robby Ray kept her path on course around the corner and to her room. Poking over the door with his foot, he sighed tiredly himself after making it home, pulling off his daughter's blonde wig and her boots to let her sleep in her clothes. He stroked her tired brow and kissed her delicate sleeping forehead.

"Night, bud…" He stepped back and started for the door. As he closed it, the latch snapped into place as Miley's eyes popped awake.

"Hello Los Angeles!!!" She jumped out of bed to her bedroom floor and started singing into her hairbrush from the nightstand. "Wasn't Kellie great! You get the limo out front! Hot style, every shoe every color…" She was singing to her darkened bedroom as her father rushing back.

"That's your last encore for the night!" Robby Ray took the brush from her and pushed her to her bed. "You jump up like that again, and I'm tying you to that bed!"

"Daddy…" Miley was really out of it. "Can Taylor and Kellie come over for a sleepover? I promise we won't crank call Demi Lovato."

"Maybe another time, bud…" Robby Ray pushed her down and draped the blanket over her. "You just go to sleep. I can almost guarantee you'll meet Kevin, Joe and Nick in your dreams."

"Ooooo, daddy, Jonii…" Jonii was her pet name for the Jonas brothers as a group.

"Yeah, that's right…" He started backing up from her back in bed. "But you stay away from Robert Pattinson. He's too old for you."

"Ooooo, Bobby…" Miley was dreaming again.

"Sweet niblets!!!" He turned to leave again, but left the door ajar this time. Her long dark hair mussed in a big heap on her head, Miley once more started descending into her dreams into a place where her private and public lives merged and her school was filled with the likes of Kelly Clarkson and Britney Spears. Christina Aguilera and Shakira were cheerleaders, and Robert DeNiro was her principal. Madonna was her history teacher, Paula Abdul was her dance teacher and Simon Cowell was her mean biology teacher. It was the kind of world she almost wished really existed.

"Why can't my life be so much easier…." She talked in her sleep.

At that time, hundreds of miles away on the East Coast and at least five hours ahead of her, seventeen-year-old Alex Russo was asleep in her Waverly Place home in New York City. In two more hours she'd be forced awake to go to school, but actually going to school in another five hours. In her dreams, this brunette beauty of Italian and Mexican heritage was fantasizing she was Hannah Montana. In her head, she was on a huge stage over a hundred feet across with millions of fans worshipping the ground she stood on. This is where she thought she should be, this was where she could be herself. She was loved by thousands, everyone wanted to be her friend, every boy wanted to be her boyfriend…

"You get the limo out front! Hot style, every shoe, every color…" Alex sang to her fans and expressed her personality through her moves.

"When you're famous it can be kind of fun…" Miley mumbled the lyrics out of habit in her sleep.

"It's really you but no one ever discovers…" Alex sang the same song in her dreams

"Who would have that a girl like me…" Miley knew the song.

"Would double as a superstar…." Alex turned to her left side in her sleep.

Miley turned and struggled to her left side.

Alex stirred and turned to her right side.

Her dreams turning into one of her concerts, Miley turned to sleep on her right side. In her sleep-induced visions, she saw Hannah Montana on stage and she was in the audience. What was going on here? Who was this girl? She started rushing to the stage.

In the real world, Alex was now sleeping in the bedroom of a Malibu beach house, and Miley was sleeping in the bedroom loft over a sandwich place in a suburban New York City neighborhood.

"You get the best of both worlds…" Alex was singing her heart out to her fans. "Chilling out, taking it slow, then you rock out the show…" She noticed this other girl rushing to the stage and climbing up on it. Who was this annoying skinny brunette interrupting her concert? Miley was coming straight toward her. The aspects and laws of this dream world started changing. Alex was suddenly standing before Hannah Montana.

Miley was back home in California; Alex was back home on Waverly Place.

On the dreamscape, Miley was standing before Hannah Montana…

Both girls reached to take the microphone, their hands melting through each other's in the process. In the real world, Alex vanished from her bed, and a gust of wind poured through her home, wafting through the place and stirring up the sub shop on the first floor. The sub shop's tables and chairs crashed into the entryway barring anyone from entering. The trapped hurricane devastated the restaurant and poured back upstairs, blowing open doors and tearing the blankets off the Russo family asleep in bed.

In her sleep, Miley gasped in bed and turned to her left side as if she was pulling something away from the air above her bed, but then her alarm rang and she woke up. Was it morning already? She felt as if she had just fallen asleep, but she felt great. She wasn't tired at all. Those mere five hours of sleep had done her a world of good. She grinned with a light chuckle and stretched her arms out and arched her back to invigorate herself. Still clad in her Hannah wardrobe from the night before, she swung her feet out of bed and rose up pulling her top of to take a shower. That is, if there was any hot water left in the house. Through the thin wall, her idiot brother was in the next bathroom singing in the shower.

"Jackson, leave me some hot water!!!" Miley pounded on the wall.

She heard her brother singing even louder as if he cared about her at all.

"Well, I can fix that!!" Miley suddenly realized she had a way of dealing with him. She spun round to a wand on her nightstand, flipped it up and caught it out of the air to swing it into the direction of her brother's room and mentally exacting revenge upon him. In seconds, Jackson was screaming his head off through the house.

"Daddy!!!!"

Down in the kitchen, Robby Ray Stewart looked to his wife, Theresa, and rolled his eyes. The kids were fighting again, and there was likely magic involved. Robby flipped another pancake, and she poured the orange juice.

"Daddy!!!!" Jackson was screaming. Clad in his blue robe, he came rushing down the stairs to the living room covered in a thick red sauce in his hair and over his body. "Mom!!! Look what Miley did!!!"

"Honey," Theresa was lightly shaking her head. "I'm sorry." Robby checked the sauce his son was drenched in.

"Cocktail sauce." He realized. "Son, how about whipping your dad up some crawdads to go along with it."

"I'll whip you something up." Jackson pulled out his wand. "A giant brunette crawdad girl with a giant ego!!!" He started to cast a spell himself, but his mother snatched his wand away from him.

"Jackson, for the last time…" Theresa scolded him with a Spanish accent. "How many times have I told you? No using magic on your sister!"

"It's not fair!!!" Jackson was screaming and jumping up and down in the living room with cocktail sauce dripping into the carpet. "Miley uses magic on me all the time. I want her punished!"

"Jackson," Robby Ray sipped his morning coffee. "You know how I feel about magic. That's your mother's department."

"I'm sorry, honey…" Theresa tried cleaning him off. "She will be punished this time. I promise."

"I am so kicking her butt in the wizard contest and keeping my powers." Jackson mumbled a bit hostile. "She shouldn't get to be Hannah Montana and keep her magic."

"Jackson…" After a nice shower and some more magic, Miley came down to breakfast fully clean and ready for school in her school clothes. She had heard what he said and didn't care. "Jack's Crab Shack called. They're out of sauce." She giggled a bit. Jackson mocked her behind her back. Theresa stopped her.

"Miley…" Theresa stopped her. "You made this mess. Clean your brother up and get him ready for school."

"Fine…" Miley sighed and turned her wand up to her brother. No spell, no incantation… just a picture in her mind as her mother had taught her. Jackson was bathed in light that dissipated to reveal him dressed as Emperor Napoleon with his hand tucked in his coat and a big French commander tri-corner hat on his head. She always did picture him as a nut. He made a face at her.

"Miley!!!" Her parents scolded her.

"Fine!!" She flicked her wand again and placed him in attire she'd seen him wear several times before at school. She sipped her juice and started eating her pancakes. Finally a bit content, Jackson checked his hair for bits of sauce or a tail from his pants. From the deck out to the beach came the sound of a skateboard on the wood deck. Miley's friends were arriving to walk her to school and get some pancakes as well. Oliver with the mop-top of black hair skidded to a stop and flipped up his board, leaving it out on the deck. Clad in a dress more ideal for a preschooler, Lily wore a dress covered in lollipops with a necklace made from chocolate kisses. Upon entering, she grinned toward Jackson.

"Hi Jackson…" She gasped dreamily at him.

"Lily…" Jackson felt awkward.

"Hey, Miley…" Oliver came over and sat by Miley at the table. He leaned over to give his favorite squeeze a kiss, but Robby Ray nixed that with the plate he had used to bring out the sausages held between them. Her father was not going to watch them smooching at the breakfast table.

"You were awesome last night!" He'd been in love with her ever since he discovered she was Hannah Montana. "I was a little jealous when you sang with Nick Jonas, but… I got over it."

"Oh…" Miley awed romantically with him. "Was my Ollie-Wolly jealous?"

"Just a bit, Miley-Wiley..."

"I didn't want to make my Jolly-Ollie uncomfortable."

"Is Jackson-Waxson going to barf?" Jackson ate standing up before rushing to school. "Yes, yes, he is…." Her mother swatted him with a dishtowel to stay out of his sister's business.

"Jackson…" Lily felt her heart tugging as she rushed to him. "Care to give me a ride?" She eyed him as her future boyfriend. He gazed at her as his sister's weird friend.

"I don't think so…" He picked up his twelfth grade school books and rushed to meet his friends before his first class. Lily's teenage infatuation with him remained unfulfilled. A bit deluded as well as whimsical, she broke a lollypop off her dress to place in her mouth.

At that moment, Jerry Russo woke to a strange scene in his Waverly Place home. His room was barren and deserted but for him, the ruined bed he was on and the broken and warped furniture. The room was decrepit with wind blowing in through broken glass in the windows, debris and trash on the worn and tattered carpet, and the wallpaper around him was peeling. This place looked as if it had not been lived in for years.

"Theresa?" He rose from bed in his pajamas. His wife was not by his side. He then feared about his children. "Alex!!!" He raced out through trash and soda cans on the floor to his daughter's room. The door was barely attached; it was holding on by one hinge. The room itself was deserted and void of furniture save for a broken chair and torn box in the empty closet. His son's room was also deserted, it's windows broken and the walls crumbling apart with huge holes in the plaster.

"Justin! Alex! Max!!!" He raced through his bare feet, but all he found was echoes, a wind blowing around the trash on the floor. What had happened here? Where was everyone? Down in the loft, the terrace windows were covered in years of grime and rust from over several years. The place was empty and deserted. Abandoned and desolate, the shop on the first floor was in the worst shape. The chairs and tables were rusted and derelict; the windows boarded up from the outside. It had not been swept in years. A menu from the shop from the floor had years of dust caked on it. Whatever did this was a very powerful spell.

"Theresa!!!" Jerry was losing it. "Alex?? Kids!!!" He raced around looking for answers, just barely catching a glimpse of a figure in the kitchen. He paused, hesitated and rushed toward it. A fleeting shadow racing over the stained and ruined cabinets of the preparation area. That was when Jerry saw it. It was the ghost of a tall beautiful woman with long brown hair. She was shying away from him into the wall.

"Where's my family?!!!" Jerry took a measuring cup and hurled it angrily into the wall. "What did you do to them?!! I want them back!!!" He stumbled a bit and collapsed to the floor in his pajamas. His heart breaking, his mind losing it… He started sobbing a very broken and lonely man…