A/N This is for MakeMeCrazier, my would-be-best-friend-if-I-believed-in-best-friends! She's been bugging me to stick to a multi-chap and overcome my 'commitment issues'. Her exact words: "Once in your life hit the COMPLETE button for something that's not a oneshot!"
So, here I am.

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Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Sonny With A Chance and Sweet And low by Augustana.

"Anywhere you go, anyone you meet,
Remember that your eyes can be your enemies."

"Chad, there is someone at the door for you!" My maid, Dorethea, called from the front of the house. I sighed and made my way down the stairs of my Toluca Lake home. I was getting ready to go to the studio when she called. You'd think that I needn't worry, that the hair and make-up people will take care of it when I arrived? Psh. I'm CDC. I need to look good all the time. "Whoever it is, can you please tell them I'm –" I froze when I saw the figure at the door with Dorethea. It had blonde hair, which was slightly curled, a light pink headband secured around its head. Its eyes were as blue as mine, but with a tinge of green found in certain lighting. It was wrapped in a pink blanket inside one of those carrier things. "Dorethea, what is that?" I asked, pointing at the thing next to my maid, crinkling my nose. It started making gurgling noises when it heard my voice.

"Apparently, she's your daughter." She read from the note in her hand. If I had water or any liquid substance in my mouth right now, I would spit it out.

"What? That can't be... That can't be mine." I stuttered. It was now smiling at me making weird movements with its hands; almost like it was having a fit or something. "That's not what it says on her birth certificate." She showed me. I took it from her grasp and sure enough, there was name, printed on the certificate.

"This could be fake." I said waving it at her face. "I don't even know a...Caitlyn Rogers." I read.

"Well, she knows you." Dorethea said while reading the note again. I scoffed. Of course she knows me. I'm Chad Dylan Cooper. Everyone knows who I am.

I snatched the note from my maid and she picked The Thing up and started making baby noises at it. It was disgusting. I turned my attention back to the note.

Dear Chad,

You may not remember me. I would expect you to. We only slept together once and never saw each other again. All you got from it would've been a bad hangover, but I fell pregnant.

Chad, this is your daughter, Aimee.

I'm sorry to dump this on you, but I can't do this. I can't be a mother.

Take care of her.

Caitlyn.

I read the note twice and tried to think back to about 10 months ago, as 'my child' only looked about a month old. Nothing came to mind. "That doesn't mean anything. It doesn't even look like me." When I looked back at It, I knew it was a lie. It looked exactly like me; the blonde hair, blue eyes, the dimples. I shook my head in denial. What makes her think that I can handle this? I'm Chad Dylan Freaking Cooper. I can't have this on me,

I suddenly remembered that I had to get to the studio. "Dorethea, I've got to go." I said, quickly grabbing my keys from the coffee table.

"What about Aimee?" She asked.

"I don't know. Deal with it. Find this Caitlyn person, get a DNA test, I don't know, just deal with this Thing!" I quickly gestured at the matter at hand and then made my way out of the door, toward my car. "Your Daughter!" Dorethea corrected behind me.

I don't get it. I'm Chad Dylan Cooper. This doesn't happen to me. I am the Greatest Actor Of My Generation. I act. I don't let my problems through the wall I have and let it stuff up my lines. I don't knock over the cardboard trees while filming. "Argh." I groaned, placing my head in my hands. Not even my massage chair could relax me right now.

Who leaves their kid at the house of someone they had a one night stand with? Especially me. How did she even know where I live? I thought it was every girls dream to have CDC's baby. Why would this Caitlyn person give it up? I'm 19 years old, and a huge star. I can't be a... father. I shuddered at the though.

Someone knocked on the door of my dressing room. It was Penelope. "Hey Daddy." She smiled. Wait. What? Did she just call me Daddy? How could she know? I told Dorethea to deal with it! "What did you just call me?" I demanded.

"Uh, Chaddy?" She asked, confused. Of course she did. Man, I'm letting this get to my head.

"What do you want, Penelope?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Oh. Uh, your daughter called—"

"What?"

"I said Mr Condor called." She repeated. Oh god. I have to get out of here.

"Sorry, Penelope. I have to go. I have a, uh... a meeting to go to." I rushed around the room, grabbing my jacket and keys quickly.

"But, I was hoping we could run some lines." She grabbed my tie and pulled me closer, smiling seductively. Ugh.

"Sorry, but this is an important meeting." I said, withdrawing her grasp on my tie. "Maybe another time?" I winked. Got to keep the charm going. She smiled and I raced out the door, running down the hall. "Dad! Where do you think you're going?" I heard my director call out behind me. I really have to get out of here.

"Meeting!" I called, rushing out the door.

A/N Well, I don't know what to do after that, so I'll end it here. When I think of what to do next, I'll start writing it.

Like I said:

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please.