Paul's Daughter (A One Direction Fanfic)

Chapter One - Little Black Dress

I'm Paul's daughter. My name is Avonlea Rose Higgins, I am seventeen years old. My father is the infamous Paul Higgins, tour manager and body guard for One Direction.

I hadn't always lived with my father. When my mom was a teenager, she came to the UK on vacation where she met my dad. They had a summer fling, and I was the result of a drunken night and bad decisions. None the less, my mother loved me with all her heart and soul. She raised me back in Canada with my grandparents help.

My father took every opportunity he could to come down and see me. I never tired of his accent or seeing the way his eyes lit up when he got to hold his little girl. It was always difficult for him to leave me. I finally decided a year ago that I wanted to live with my father on my sixteenth birthday. My mother reluctantly agreed, and let me go.

So here I am. I'm completely settled into life here. I couldn't imagine it being any different, and my fathers new wife and son are amazing people that I keep close in my heart.

"Daddy, I'm going out with Kate tonight. Okay?" I asked from the top of the staircase. My father appeared at the bottom, a smile plastered on his jolly face. "Where are you going?" He asked, deep voice soothing but strong.

"I'm going to Gabe's house."

He nodded. "When will you be back?"

He was always the type to be overprotective. "I'm not sure. I'll take a cab."

He nodded again. "Have fun honey, and don't drink."

I giggled at his warning. There was no need. I wasn't planning on getting wasted tonight anyways.

I walked quietly back to my room, making sure to check myself in the mirror. Maybe the tight black dress I was wearing wasn't appropriate after all. My blonde hair cascaded down my shoulders. I hadn't noticed I was still looking at myself in the mirror until the phone rang.

I wondered who it could be as I clicked the talk button. "Hello?" I chirped, smoothing out my dress.

"Hello," the man on the other line replied. His voice was smooth and authoritative with the mingling of a British accent. "Can I speak to Paul please, love," he asked politely.

"Sure thing," I began to set the phone down when I picked it up again. "May I ask who's speaking?"

The man on the other line chuckled in delight. What was so funny? "Tell him it's Haz," he assured me and I nodded to myself.

I left my bedroom, phone in hand as I called down the corridor. "Daddy!" I called. "Daddy!" I yelled again, and this time he showed up at the bottom of the stairs.

His face was crinkled up in amusement, possibly from the soccer game he was watching on the television or the board game he was playing with my half-brother.

"Some guy named Haz is on the phone," I informed him as he smiled in appreciation.

He nodded, his bulky frame disappeared from my view as he went back into the living room to pick up the other phone.

"Hey Harry, what's up?" I could hear my fathers voice. I normally kept boundaries but if this was the Harry Styles, I needed to eavesdrop.

You may think it's weird. That my father is basically a second dad to the boys and I've never met them, but it's not so strange when you think about it. My father wants to protect me, and by keeping his home and work life separate, he can better do that and keep me out of the media's eye.

I raised the phone to my ear, holding in my breath. Who decided it would be a good idea to have a phone without mute? Harry was speaking when I began to listen.