"MUMMYYYY!" screamed my almost three-year-old daughter, Darcy. She's going to turn three on January 12th, the same day as her Uncle Zayn's birthday.
"Yes, baby? What is it?" I said, without looking at her because I was too busy packing our bags for New York.
"I'm sleepy!" She whined while rubbing her eyes.
I turned around and looked at my beautiful daughter who was standing at the doorway. She had my eyes and her father's curly brown hair. She held her teddy bear's paw with one hand, so the rest of the teddy bear touched the floor, while she continually rubbed her eye with her other hand. She was precious. I made my way over to her and kneeled down so that we were at eye level.
"Baby, do you think maybe you can sleep in the car, when we're on our way to the airport? I'm almost done getting our things together and then we'll be on our way!" I said to her, as enthusiastically as I could. For a toddler, she was incredibly smart and intelligent. She understood almost everything I said. Darcy slowly nodded her head before I took her hand in mine, made our way to my bed, picked her up and placed her on the bed. She watched me as I packed the rest of our things in the small suitcase.
"Mummy, where are we going again?" She asked with confusion and curiosity in her voice.
"We're going to New York, princess."
"Why?"
"Because mummy has to work there for a day or two. And while mummy's working, Aunt (Y/F/N) is going to watch you! Doesn't that sound like fun?" I tried to say enthusiastically, but I couldn't. I didn't want to go myself.
"Oh, okay," said Darcy as I continued to pack.
I'm a dancer. I have been since I was 15. I worked on X Factor with Danielle Peazer. We basically worked on everything, together. We danced for LMFAO, Jessie J, we danced at the Olympics. She's one of my best friends. I was assigned to dance at Taylor Swift's performance, before the ball drops in Times Square. Even though I hated her with a burning passion, I needed the money so I couldn't pass it up.
I soon finished packing our things and changed my clothes. I changed into black skinny jeans and an oversized navy jumper (sweater) with a gray beanie, black UGG boots and ray-bands even though the sun wasn't out and it was snowing. I wasn't in the mood to be stopped by paparazzi. Even though Harry basically wasn't in my life nor Darcy's anymore, we're still bothered by them. However, Harry wasn't really involved in Darcy's life. He left me before I could tell him I was pregnant. I told him he had a daughter when Darcy turned one. Ever since then, Harry only visits Darcy and I once or twice every 6 months, maybe a year. But I never told Darcy that Harry was her father. I didn't want her to get attached to him and then him hurt her and leave her life out of the blue. I couldn't risk it.
Darcy ended up falling asleep on the bed as I changed. I quietly put her shoes and coat on her, grabbed her blanket and teddy bear, put her in her car seat, grabbed our suitcase, put it in the trunk of our car and left for the airport. "This should be a fun trip," I thought before I left my drive way.
Hey, loves! Sorry if it's bad, hopefully it'll get better in the next parts! And hopefully it'll get longer as well! I apologize for any mistakes. Should I continue? Comments and feedback are appreciated! :) ❤
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Nothing's Easy.
Fanfiction(Y/N) is an 18-year-old dancer with a 3-year-old daughter named Darcy. It's always been just them two. But what will happen with Darcy's father, Harry comes back into the picture?
