michael.

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We were ten shows down in the North American leg of our tour and the routine of being a musician and a father were starting to feel normal. It'd always be the same thing: wake up, make breakfast for Melody and I, do radio shows or other appearances, feed Melody lunch, nap time for Melody while we sound check, feed Melody again, get ready, show time, carry a sleeping Melody back to the bus and then get myself to sleep.

It was a lot of work having an extra person to watch and take care of, especially since Melody was only three and needed to be looked after for every minute of every day. But despite it, we were getting along and I was actually proud that I helped create such a cute little girl. Like, holy shit, I made her.

"Daddy?!"

I heard a small whimper from behind me, and when I lifted my eyes from the phone in my hands to the mirror before me, I caught glimpse of Melody sitting up on the couch with a frown on her face. Her dark hair was in a tangled disarray, a yellow bow dangling from loose strands, and her flannel was sprawled messily on the floor.

"Sweetheart, I'm right here," I sang, laughing at my confused daughter. I waved, smiling at her through the mirror. Melody turned her attention to me, where I was sitting on a chair while Gail fixed my hair. With a frown still plastered on her face, Melody hopped off of the black, velvet couch and her tiny legs scurried over to me.

"Up," she said, holding up her arms towards me. I leaned over, picked her and and sat my little diva on my lap. Gail continued to work product into my hair, giving Melody a smile as she did.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked her, as she played with the buttons on my flannel.

"Um yea," she softly muttered. "But I got scared daddy."

"Why were you scared?"

"Because," she sang, her voice hitting a wave of inflections. She sat up onto her knees and grabbed onto my face, squishing my cheeks with her little hands.

"Because why princess?"

"Because mummy wouldn't wake up," Melody simply stated. She looked at me with her brown eyes, so full of innocence and my heart shattered into tiny pieces.

I had forgotten that Melody was the one who discovered Carrington's lifeless body and the thought made me feel disgusting. It crumbled my all to think about how scared she must've been; how the concept of death was an idea that she didn't understand and I had no clue how how to explain it to her.

"When's mummy waking up?" Melody earnestly asked.

I bit my lip, gazing to Gail who just shrugged, shooting me a sympathetic look. I also caught glimpse of the other boys who were sitting next to me, getting their hair done by Annette. The boys looked hurt as I, unaware of what should be said. I didn't want to lie to Melody, yet at the same time she was still a little girl who wasn't capable of understanding that her mum was never going to wake up again.

"Listen to me sweetheart," I hugged Melody to my chest, picking her up and stepping off of the chair. "Your mummy, I'm not sure she feels like waking up."

I carried her out into the hallway where several black, heavy duty boxes where equipment was stored sat against the opposing wall. I sat on one of the boxes, Melody on my lap. I let out a drawn out exhale, nervous about the following conversation.

"Why?" She asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Because mummy wants to sleep forever,"

"But does she love me?" a small whimper escaped her lips just as a pout formed.

My heart was breaking the more the conversation went on and damn did I want nothing but to runaway from it all. But I couldn't-- I had to be a grown up.

"Yes sweetheart," I promised, "she loves you more than the world. And that's why she's sleeping forever. So she can dream about you from the stars."

Melody's eyes widened as she gasped, "mummy's in the stars?"

"Yup," I nodded my head with a smile. This is going better. "So she can always watch you. Do you understand?"

"Yea daddy," she nodded her head several times.

I gave her another hug, glad that this conversation was over but in the back of my mind I knew that this wasn't going to be the last of difficult conversations. Melody was a curious little girl who liked to ask questions and liked to figure things out. I knew that her mum's whereabouts were going to keep popping up. And also knew that other topics I wouldn't know how to answer would come up too. I wasn't scared; I was terrified. I didn't want to screw up.

"Daddy?" Melody looked at me, just as I stood up from the black boxes.

"Yes sweetheart?" The two of us sauntered back into the dressing room where the guys were air-guitaring to Green Day.

"I'm hungry," she told me and I laughed. Melody was always hungry; she definitely got that from me.

"Well we have pizza and apple juice," I informed, sitting her down on top of the vanity counter top. I saw her eyes drift away from me, to whatever was behind me. Melody started to giggle and I knew exactly what she was laughing at. When I turned over my shoulder, Ashton, Calum and Luke had their pants down to their knees, as they ridiculously shook their asses to the beat of Know Your Enemy.

"Guys!" I yelled, hastily covering Melody's eyes with my hand. "We have a young lady in here! Pull your pants up!"

"Whoa, sorry dad," Calum teased, a chuckle escaping his lips. I was not amused.

"Come on guys, be a little more respectful," I scolded. "Melody will never know what a guy looks like without his pants on."

"She's only three, she's not going to understand," Annette suddenly chimed in from the other end of the room. She was organizing all her hair products into a black bag.

"First of all, I didn't ask for your opinion," I shot the student stylist a smug look, "and second of all, she's not going to understand teenage pregnancy when I'm already learning it for her."

"You're overreacting," Annette declared with a sigh as she strolled over to Melody and I. She gave my shoulder a light shove, causing me to teeter off you the side. "Melody is a little girl," she continued, grabbing a comb off to the side and gently taking off the bow that was struggling to stay on the ends of Melody's hair, "she's too innocent to really know things about the opposite sex."

"Please don't say the S-word around Melody," I reprimanded. Annette rolled her eyes as she combed Melody's hair and securing it with a small elastic. "And also, don't try to tell me how to raise my daughter."

"I wasn't," Annette stated, placing the yellow boy back on Melody's hair, "I just wanted to assure you that worrying about Melody and boys," she emphasized, raising a brow in my direction paired with an incredulous grin, "doesn't have to happen for another twelve years."

"More like thirty ears," I grumbled. I glanced at my daughter who was now looking over her shoulder to check her newly primped hair in the mirror. "Sweetheart, what do you think about boys?"

"They're yucky," Melody answered immediately with no hesitation or thought and that made me feel ten times better. "'Cept you daddy," she quickly added, "you're not yucky, you're beautiful."

"Did you hear that," I smirked at Annette. "I'm beautiful."

"Eh, I guess so," Annette scrunched up her face. I couldn't tell if she was just teasing me or if her bitch was showing again.

"I'm hungry daddy," Melody reminded, causing me to snap out of the glaring contest I had with Annette in order to tend to my daughter.

"Sorry sweetheart, let's get you some food," I picked her up off the counter top and placed her down on the ground where her little feet ran towards the crafts table. I watched as she stood on the tip of her toes, reaching for something on the table.

"Help me Unca' Cal," Melody stretched her arm, a tiny groan of struggle escaping her lips.

"Here you go princess," Calum laughed, handing Melody the familiar shiny package.

"No Poptarts for dinner," I shook my head and took the pastry right out of Melody's hands.

"Daddy!" Melody shrieked, pouting her lip. Ugh, that look-- she knew what she was doing.

"Princess, no. You need to eat some real food," I explained. "You can have a Poptart later."

"No daddy, please?" She pouted again, this time bigger and her eyes got all glossy. This girl really knew what she was doing-- smart fucker.

"No Melody, you can have some pizza or I can make you some toast," I suggested, making sure to keep my tone positive at all times.

"I don't want that. I want poppin' tarts. Please daddy?!" Melody hugged my legs, tilting her head all the way back to look at me.

"I'm sorry sweetheart but you need to eat something other than... poppin' tarts. Come on, I'll make you toast. I'll even let you spread the jam on the bread," I offered, hope to my tone. "And press the button on the toaster."

Melody shook her head, unwrapping her arms around my legs, "no I don't want that. Poppin' tarts! Please daddy!"

"Nope, not gonna happen missy," I proceeded to grab a paper plate and two slices of bread. As I sauntered over to the toaster, I could hear Melody's tiny feet shuffling behind me.

"Daddy please? I want to eat poppin' tarts," she insisted.

I turned my head over my shoulder, "I'm not going to tell you again Melody; I said no. You are going to eat toast and you can have a Poptart later. Behave or you're gonna have to go on a timed out."

"Daddy you're being mean to me,"

"No I'm not Melody, I'm being a dad,"

"No you're not. Daddies are nice and fun," Melody argued, sass coating every word that slipped out of her mouth. I let out a sigh, rolling my eyes at the little diva's statement. Two pieces of bread popped out of the toaster and quickly, I placed them back on the plate.

"Do you want to put the jam on the toast or should I?" I asked Melody, a sternness still to my voice. She didn't answer me, and instead she curtly turned in her little black converse and stomped away to the couch in a huff. "You're being a diva!"

"Am not!" She angrily declared. Eyebrows furrowed and her bottom lip sticking out, Melody sat at the end of the couch clutching onto her stuffed monkey. She was also eating Skittles out of the palm of Luke's hand.

"Melody, drop the Skittles!" I scowled, an authoritarian finger pointed straight at her. "Come over here and eat dinner. I do not have time to play games right now!"

She ignored me and continued eating grabbing Skittles out of Luke's hand.

"You will do as I say Melody Joyce Clifford!" I scolded, marching over to the little girl. "No more Skittles," I glared at Luke, "put them away Hemmings!"

"Sorry," Luke cowered, closing his hand and taking it away from Melody.

"You will cooperate with me Melody Joyce or you can sit in timed out and go to bed hungry," I negotiated, staring down the little diva.

I always had to keep my cool with her considering the circumstances but it was very hard. She was still a little girl who needed to be disciplined like all kids, but I just hated being the bad guy. I hated feeling like crap every time I had to step up and be a dad. And I most especially hated the hurt look on Melody's face every time I had to reprimand her for something.

Like now.

Melody's head dropped to her chest and the way her shoulders were heaving up and down I knew she was crying. I heard a sniffle; a tiny whimper and that was all I needed to make me feel like I was baptized in guilt.

"Sweetheart," I whispered, dropping to my knees. "I'm sorry," my voice laced with sorrow, "but you need to understand that I'm not trying to be mean okay? I love you princess and I--"

"Daddy leave me alone," she cut me off with words that shredded my heart as if lacerated with shards of glass.

I was taken aback, surprised with Melody's statement. It hurt me; like, really hurt me. She didn't yell, she didn't scream it in my face and she didn't fall to the floor and wail her eyes out like any of her normal tantrums. Instead, Melody spoke very low, almost at a whisper. And that's how I knew I had hurt her too.

I didn't respond to Melody; I didn't know how. So I simply leaned in, placed a kiss on the top of her head and stood up. I turned away from her, and walked away from the situation. I strolled out of the dressing room, catching glimpse of Melody sitting on Luke's lap, her face buried into his shoulder as she continued to cry.

Damn, this hurts.

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Aww feeling so bad for both Michael and Melody. Like, how do you even begin to explain to a little kid about death, let alone explain that mum's not going to wake up.

Thank you all for reading MICHAEL'S MELODY. Thank you to everyone who has voted, commented and shared this story. I appreciate it so much and I hope you're liking how this story is going so far. <33