Okay, so I'm not sure if this story is any good. It might suck. I got bored so I started writing it. Anyways, I think we all know that I don't own Austin and Ally. I guess I own Arynn but that's it. And I'm sorry if this story sucks. I'd love some feedback though. Thanks for reading :D now to the story ;)

How strange life can be sometimes. How unpredictable.

That had been the first thing I thought every morning for the previous five years. I got up, showered, walked downstairs to make a strong pot of coffee, then had about an hour of alone time before my daughter came stumbling down the staircase, mumbling about breakfast.

That morning was slightly different. My daughter just so happened to wake up before me. Instead of waking up to the blaring of my alarm, I woke to quiet giggling and floorboards creaking under a tiny weight. I smiled slightly, knowing what was coming, but kept my eyes closed.

Suddenly, an object hit my side from the opposite side of the bed. Something scrambled on top of me and I rolled over, slowly opening my eyes.

My daughter was covering her mouth with her small hands, tinkling laughter slipping through her fingers. Her cheeks were flushed and her hazel eyes shone brightly, though it was still only about seven in the morning. I laughed along with her, sitting up and pulling her into a tight hug.

"Good morning Mama," she giggled into my shoulder. I pulled back and smiled at her.

"Good morning to you too, angel," I replied.

After my morning greeting, I walked her down the staircase. There was hardly enough space to walk side by side, both on the staircase and in the hallways. Our house was small; two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small, box-like living room, and a kitchen. But that was all we needed.

"Mama?" she asked as we entered our small, messy kitchen.

"Yeah baby?"

"Can we have pancakes? Pretty, pretty please?" I laughed in response, pulling out a pan and the pancake mix from the pantry. She started dancing around the room, singing about how much she loved pancakes and how she would eat them every day, if I would let her.

I set up the table as the pancakes cooked. She finally settled down and seated herself just as I finished the last one.

She ate the pancakes like they were going out of style, shoving bites into her mouth, eyes watering because they were still a little too warm. Suddenly, she froze. I glanced at her and raised my eyebrows.

"We forgot pickles!" she cried, scrambling out of her seat and into the fridge. She pulled out the pickles and handed me the container to open.

"Arynn," I said as I twisted the lid, "you know I love pickles, but pairing them with pancakes is a little…odd."

"I know Mama! I just love pancakes and pickles so much!" she squealed. I pulled out a pickle, shaking it so the juice would flow off, then handed it to her.

I finished my breakfast first, but Arynn finished soon after. She ran into the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she came out she was holding her small pink brush in her hand. I followed her to the couch, where I sat on the worn fabric and she sat on the carpet by my feet.

I pulled the brush from her small hand then ran it through her blonde curls. They were getting so long, reaching her lower back. She started humming a song as I continued, but stopped when I was working at a small knot near the bottom of her hair.

"Mama, can you tell me the story about Daddy again?" she asked quietly. I'd known it was coming, it was routine for her to ask almost every morning, but it still surprised me when she sounded so unsure.

"Of course," I said, a small smile stretching across my lips. It had surprised me when she figured out the stories I told her were about her father and I. She always was smart, but I hadn't realized she would understand the meaning behind the fairy tales I told her. I ran the brush through her hair once more as I continued. "Once upon a time, there was a small kingdom that was always filled with music. The prince of that kingdom was very childish and silly, but he was very serious about his love for music. That was the one thing that he was passionate about." I lost myself in the story, as did Arynn.

"His parents didn't always support his love for music. They wanted him to be able to support the kingdom, but music was holding him back from that. What they didn't know, was that not only was the prince in love with his music, but he was also going out at night in disguise to perform. One of those nights, a girl was walking by. She had stopped and watched his entire performance, then offered him her change at the end. He refused to take it, but asked what her name was. She told him, and then left before they could talk.

The prince became focused on the girl, wondering what she was doing and who she was with until one day, he decided to go out and find her. He searched his entire kingdom before he decided that maybe she didn't live there. Maybe she had been visiting from a different kingdom. He walked into a small music store to take a break from his search and think. That was where he heard a voice. Someone was singing inside the store.

He searched the store, looking for the owner of the voice. Eventually, he found a girl sitting at a piano inside a room filled with instruments. He watched silently until she finished the song, and then he clapped. She turned and stared at him in shock. He was not in disguise, and she knew that he was the prince.

When he realized who she was, he immediately got down on one knee. He asked her to marry him, for he had searched the whole kingdom for her, even though he did not know her, he wanted to. She said yes."

And that was where the story normally ended. I realized that I had gotten so invested in the story that I was still brushing her hair, though the knots and tangles had long ago disappeared. This time, the story did not end where it always had before.

"Mama did Daddy really ask you to marry him?" she asked.

I hesitated. I had crafted this story specifically so she would be able to know how much I loved her father, and how much I thought he loved me. I didn't want her to find out who he was. I didn't want her to be disappointed that her father might not have been the kind prince that she thought he was. Still, I told her the truth. "No, sweetheart," I replied, "but he did ask me to be his music partner, and that was a little similar."

"Oh," she mumbled, "well Mama…what happened next?"

"Um…" I hesitated again. Then I sighed, deciding to continue the story in a somewhat honest way. "The prince and the girl got married. For a long time, everything was perfect. But then, the princess got a special present from her fairy godmother that she was supposed to share with the prince. She was worried though, because the present was a lot of responsibility, and she thought the prince might be too young for that.

The princess decided to tell him about the present, and if he didn't want it, she decided she would find a way to handle the present by herself. Instead of telling him though, the princess went to his room. She heard yelling on the other side of the door. The prince's parents were angry with him. They didn't approve of his marriage to the princess. Then, the princess heard another voice. It was the voice of the prince's manager. He planned everything the prince did.

The manager said that the prince had to leave his princess. The prince put up a big fight, but his manager made very good points about why the prince shouldn't have married the princess. Even if the prince wasn't convinced, the princess was. If the manager didn't want the prince to marry the princess, what would he say about the present? So, the princess ran to her room, packed her bags and left the prince a note. And then she left the castle, left the kingdom, and took the present with her."

I was whispering by the end of the story, but I could tell Arynn had heard the entire thing, because she turned around, climbed onto my lap, and hugged me tightly.

"It's okay, Mama," she whispered in my ear, "Don't be sad. The prince always looks for his princess. In all the fairy tales there is always a happy ending."

I didn't realize I was crying until I felt a small hand on my cheek. My daughter looked at me, rubbed away a tear and then smiled. Suddenly, I found myself laughing at the pure irony of that. My four year old daughter was comforting me.

We laughed together, then she climbed off my lap and went to get a movie to watch out of her bedroom. I sat on the couch again, thinking.

If only he hadn't come looking.

Is it worth continuing? Maybe? Anyways, I might upload another chapter, might not I honestly don't know. Thanks for reading this whole thing though!