Big Time Daughter

Chapter 9

Nellie's P.O.V.

Only a matter of time until she comes running in. Three... two... one.

Nothing. What?

I peep an eye open to find myself in an unfamiliar room. I sit up and look around. That's when yesterday comes flooding back.

So it really wasn't just a dream. I'm really living with my father now. Mom is now hundreds of miles away from me.

I walk into the bathroom and take a quick shower, the hot water doing wonders for my body.

Wrapped in a towel, I leave my bathroom and walk into the closet. There are endless racks and boxes of clothes and jewelry and who knows what else.

I grab a simple black t shirt and blue jeans, quickly changing into the outfit and the new sneakers from Macy. Man, I miss that girl.

I step out to my room and clean up a bit. I open my bedroom door but I stay in place, quietly listening to whatever's going on downstairs.

"...but the word on the street is Big Time Rush's own Logan Mitchell is a teen father to not one but two girls from different women. Fans all around-"

I close the door and lean against the wall, failing to push back tears. I haven't been here one full day and I'm already ruining Logan's career.

"I'm going to go see if she's up yet." he says.

I close my eyes and sigh.

I open the door fully and meet him in the hall.

"Hey! Did you get any sleep last night?" he asks, smiling.

"Yeah." I quietly nod.

"Come on, breakfast is ready." he says, guiding the way downstairs.

"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry." I say.

"You need to eat something, sweetie." says Camille, offering me a full plate of food.

I look across the room to see the tv on mute. Logan's picture is on the screen with the caption 'Illegitimate Child?' And it's not until now that I noticed everyone's cell phones constantly ringing with notifications.

"Yeah, you're definitely going to need your strength today." says Logan, pouring me a glass of orange juice.

"What for?"

"Well, you don't really have anything to say it's yours." says Lyndsay. "And everything I have fits you super baggy."

"So we thought we'd take you shopping for your own things." says Camille, smiling brightly.

I nearly choke on my juice when she says this.

"No, I can't ask-"

"We want to." he says.

"The three of us will go to the mall, shop around a bit and it'll be a good time." says Camille.

"But the tv-"

"Don't worry about that." says Lyndsay. "Dad knows a guy who can let us have our privacy while we shop."

Hours Later

While the paparazzi managed to find us anyway, I was able to find some things. I felt terrible about spending their money but whatever I touched, Camille or Lyndsay immediately took it to the cash register.

Back at home, there were reporters waiting at the gate.

"Um..." I start.

"Don't worry about them. They can't get into the house." says Camille, parking in the garage.

I grab as many bags as I can, with help from both Camille and Lyndsay, and walk into the house.

"Can you give us a minute?" asks Logan. "Nellie, I wanted to show you around the house."

"I can take these." says Camille, freeing my hands.

The house was pretty big but Logan and I walked our way through, with him pointing out who's room is whose and where I can find something, shall I need it.

"Who's house is this?" I ask.

"Ours." he answers. "And it's yours now, too."

I open my mouth to ask something else but immediately shut it.

"What's up?" he asks, ask we continued to walk through the house. "You know, whatever you want to know... just ask."

I sigh and look down.

"What happened?" I ask, turning my head up to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Why didn't mom tell you about me?" I ask, a tear rolling down my cheek.

He sighs sadly and wipes my tear away with his thumb.

"We were never really friends. We never dated." he starts. "About fourteen, fifteen years ago, the guys and I were moving to Los Angeles, you know, from the auditions."

I nod.

"And she asked me to hang out with her one last time as a goodbye. One thing lead to another aaand what was supposed to be three months turned into this." he says.

"She never told you about me." I sigh.

"Had I known about you, I definitely would have done things differently."

A Month Later

I still don't really feel comfortable with the whole idea of going out and about. Dad's friends have come over often. So has his boss, I think they said his name is Gustavo? He has a kid about my age, Alex and we really hit it off.

"You know, you're going to have to come out of your room eventually." says Logan, walking into my room. "Come on, go out and do something."

"Tired of me already?" I joke. Kind of.

"Never." he says.

"Actually, I was going to ask if it's okay if Justin comes over?"

"That was quick." he chuckles.

A while ago, I met a new friend, Justin. We hit it off almost immediately and he asked me out on a date. Soon after that, we became official but he hasn't really had the chance to come over and get to know dad.

"You know what, it's fish stick Friday." he shrugs. "That way we can all meet him together."

Fish stick Friday is kind of dad and Camille's way of having family dinner with me and Lindsay, like Sunday dinner is their way of everyone getting together, you know like with uncle Kendall and them.

"I'll let him know." I smile.

Later

"Are you sure about this?" asks Justin, as he pulls up to the house.

"Absolutely." I say. "Besides, I don't really want to start anything behind his back."

"Alright, for you, I'll try." he says, kissing my cheek.

We exit the car and I guide him to the house.

Dinner was full of laughs, with everyone telling stories from the past. My past isn't exactly the best, so I chose to stay quiet on my end.

"Who knew being in a band could be soo..."

"So dangerous?" jokes dad, making us laugh.

Soon, it was time for Justin to go.

"You think he likes me?" he asks, as we walk to his car.

"Honestly, I don't know him well enough to read him." I say.

"Hey it's me. Everyone likes me." he smirks, making me laugh. "Good night."

"Good night." I say, as he leans in to kiss me.

After Justin drives off, I close the gate and walk back to the house. I lock the front door and sit in the living room with dad.

"So?" I ask.

"Honestly?" he asks. "I'm not a fan."

Huh?