The Accused by SkyWriter
Summary:

 

award winner

The centre of Michael's world crumples when Diane Hargrove discovers that her four year old child has been molested. Exhausted from the Bad Tour and the emotional highs and lows of dealing with his favourite little girl's complicated medical history, Michael finds everyone pointing the finger at him; accusing him of the unthinkable. With the weight of the world upon his shoulders, he struggles through grief and depression and the stress of being the someone that the world perceives him to be.

Scared of being alone, Michael enlists the company of number one fan, Malania Nakamura, who he feels like could just be the only other person on earth who understands his wounded heart. 

What will the future hold for Michael's freedom and for Malania's own troubled state of mind?


Categories: Award Winning, Romance, Trigger Warning! Characters: Original Girl
General Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mild Violence, Nudity, Some Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Strong Language
Trigger Warnings: Alcohol Abuse, Anorexia, Attempted Suicide, Domestic Abuse, Drug Abuse, Rape, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, Suicide
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 76 Completed: No Word count: 336374 Read: 160940 Published: Jan 31, 2015 Updated: May 12, 2020
Story Notes:

This story contains adult situations. 

Trigger warnings include: Self harm, suicide, depression, eating disorders, drug use and sexual abuse. 

1. Prologue by SkyWriter

2. Chapter 1 by SkyWriter

3. Chapter 2 by SkyWriter

4. Chapter 3 by SkyWriter

5. Chapter 4 by SkyWriter

6. Chapter 5 by SkyWriter

7. Chapter 6 by SkyWriter

8. Chapter 7 by SkyWriter

9. Chapter 8 by SkyWriter

10. Chapter 9 by SkyWriter

11. Chapter 10 by SkyWriter

12. Chapter 11 by SkyWriter

13. Chapter 12 by SkyWriter

14. Chapter 13 by SkyWriter

15. Chapter 14 by SkyWriter

16. Chapter 15 by SkyWriter

17. Chapter 16 by SkyWriter

18. Chapter 17 by SkyWriter

19. Chapter 18 by SkyWriter

20. Chapter 19 by SkyWriter

21. Chapter 20 by SkyWriter

22. Chapter 21 by SkyWriter

23. Chapter 22 by SkyWriter

24. Chapter 23 by SkyWriter

25. Chapter 24 by SkyWriter

26. Chapter 25 by SkyWriter

27. Chapter 26 by SkyWriter

28. Chapter 27 by SkyWriter

29. Chapter 28 by SkyWriter

30. Chapter 29 by SkyWriter

31. Chapter 30 by SkyWriter

32. Chapter 31 by SkyWriter

33. Chapter 32 by SkyWriter

34. Chapter 33 by SkyWriter

35. Chapter 34 by SkyWriter

36. Chapter 35 by SkyWriter

37. Chapter 36 by SkyWriter

38. Chapter 37 by SkyWriter

39. Chapter 38 by SkyWriter

40. Chapter 39 by SkyWriter

41. Chapter 40 by SkyWriter

42. Chapter 41 by SkyWriter

43. Chapter 42 by SkyWriter

44. Chapter 43 by SkyWriter

45. Chapter 44 by SkyWriter

46. Chapter 45 by SkyWriter

47. Chapter 46 by SkyWriter

48. Chapter 47 by SkyWriter

49. Chapter 48 by SkyWriter

50. Chapter 49 by SkyWriter

51. Chapter 50 by SkyWriter

52. Chapter 51 by SkyWriter

53. Chapter 52 by SkyWriter

54. Chapter 53 by SkyWriter

55. Chapter 54 by SkyWriter

56. Chapter 55 by SkyWriter

57. Chapter 56 by SkyWriter

58. Chapter 57 by SkyWriter

59. Chapter 58 by SkyWriter

60. Chapter 59 by SkyWriter

61. Chapter 60 by SkyWriter

62. Chapter 61 by SkyWriter

63. Chapter 62 by SkyWriter

64. Chapter 63 by SkyWriter

65. Chapter 64 by SkyWriter

66. Chapter 65 by SkyWriter

67. Chapter 66 by SkyWriter

68. Chapter 67 by SkyWriter

69. Chapter 68 by SkyWriter

70. Chapter 69 by SkyWriter

71. Chapter 70 by SkyWriter

72. Chapter 71 by SkyWriter

73. Chapter 72 by SkyWriter

74. Chapter 73 by SkyWriter

75. Chapter 74 by SkyWriter

76. Chapter 76 by SkyWriter

Prologue by SkyWriter

I am the damned.

I buried my face within the folds of the cotton scarf, shielding myself from the blinding glare of the flashbulbs that seemed to be snapping like a thousand solar flares at once burning in to my retinas. My eyes were only slightly protected beneath a pair of dark wayfarers; just large enough so as they wouldn’t see the tear stains upon my cheeks.

I closed my eyes and I let a pair of hands guide my lifeless shell in to the backseat of yet another car. The windows were heavily tinted, but I knew that wouldn’t stop the suffocating crowd from trying to peer in and get their money shot.

Every question that was shouted at me just became background noise. My head was too distracted to focus on much save for the nausea swirling in my stomach and the adrenalin that was causing my heart to pump aggressively and my bones to ache. I slid in to the backseat of the SUV, prompted by the burly guard who I had never met before this day.

Yep, there they were, journalists, photographers and fans-alike, all

all trying to peer in to the windows. I kept my face covered. I rested my aching head back against the leather matte seat and pulled the scarf over my face, spreading it across my face a little.

I closed my eyes tightly praying for if only but slight reprieve from the pounding of my heart against my chest that reverberated in to my throat, making it hard for me to swallow, hard for me to breathe, hard for me to… think.

I didn’t even notice the tears sliding down my cheeks. I didn’t bother wiping them away. I knew that if I did, people might see and then the papers would report the tears as ones of remorse or fear or – or whatever. I didn’t even care. I just wanted to be home.

I had never felt so lonely in all of my 30 years of living.

The irony was that my circumstances made me different or unique, they set me apart but despite that, I tried hard not to isolate myself, I didn’t necessarily like being alone, so I surrounded myself with people that I loved unconditionally like my second family, so that I wouldn’t feel this kind of lonely.

Yet, they caused it.

…Or maybe I did? I wasn’t entirely clear on whose fault it was.

If I lived to see the sunlight through this storm, and I doubted that I would, by the way, I would learn my lesson. I would never, ever let another single soul in. I would never, ever trust again.

I was glad when I felt the wheels in motion, the vehicle was moving away from the crowd and gaining speed quickly with the help of a police escort.

Now to make the long journey home and face what was waiting for me there.

The very anticipation of what or who would be waiting for me when I touched down caused me to heave while stifling a fearful sob at the same time.

The gorilla in the suit in the front seat handed me a bag without even turning to face me. I could only imagine what he thought of me and what he had imagined I was capable of. The thought of someone believing the accusation only made me sicker.

I grabbed the bag without a word and evacuated the little contents that was still left in my aching stomach.

I wanted someone to cuddle me -- my Mother -- I wanted her to tell me it would be all right. I wanted her to never let me go, I wanted to reverse time.

Nope, I had never been so frightened and lonely in my entire life.

Chapter 1 by SkyWriter

 

Chapter One – Who is it?

I laughed loudly at my make up artist as she roughly padded my cheeks with a foam make up sponge that was a little heavy handed with the foundation. This was stage make up, though it was meant to be.

“I know right,” Rosa laughed too, “disaster.” 

“Why do you keep dating these shmucks?” I asked her, staring brazenly at my reflection in the mirror as she primped me ready for my sell-out concert.

Ah, the dating game, I’d never understood it because I’d never had the opportunity to play it for myself, but I loved to hear stories of the real world. Even though there was some true sadness to Rosa’s story, it still all seemed like a lot of fun.

“I don’t know… Hope, I guess,” she shrugged.

I chewed on that thought for few moments. Despite both our differing lifestyles, she still had the same problems I had. She got home to her apartment at the end of each day without anyone waiting for her or even caring that she got back safely. 

The only reason why people cared for my safety is because I made them money, otherwise, I could have been home for months before hearing from another soul. 

“Don’t worry,” I assured her, “you’re beautiful, Rosa, you will find the perfect man, I’m sure of it. And when you do, you’ll probably leave my pot-holed face far behind…” I smiled. 

“Never Mr. Jackson,” she replied a little embarrassed by my compliment, “and your skin is fine, you don’t have pot-holes, don’t be so silly. Next time you say that, I’ll slap you upside your head and I won’t even care if your hair’s been done.” 

I chuckled. She was beautiful with her big dark curls, chocolate eyes and petite frame. She was my height when I was sitting down, any shorter and she probably wouldn’t have been able to do the job without a box to stand on, or without me sitting on a child-sized chair. I almost laughed at the thought. 

“Could you make sure tonight that this is covered up a little better, the make up sweat right off during last night’s show.” I pointed to a vague discolouration scar that was visible just beneath my chin – I’d been obsessing about it for weeks. 

“I’ll use a bit more, but when you come in here to get changed at the Medley break, remind me and I’ll touch up, okay? I don’t think you have much to worry about, but just for your own assurance.” 

“Thanks,” I replied quietly without arguing back. It didn’t matter if she didn’t think it was a big deal, I thought it was a big deal. I hated the way I looked and it just seemed to be becoming my entrenched within me as the years went on. 

“Okay, all done,” she announced a few moments later. She put her tools down and I felt transformed in to someone that I was confident in showing to the public.

That night’s show was in Mexico City, or so I thought, some nights it was hard to keep track. I reminded myself to double check before I went ahead and greeted a city that I wasn’t even in. It wouldn’t have been the first time, I thought with a bit of embarrassment. 

I eased up out of my chair and thanked the make up artist. I had around 35 minutes to go before I went on stage. I moved over to the couch of my trailer and opened a bottle of juice that had been left for me with a straw. 

“Have a good show, Mr. Jackson,” Rosa waved. 

“Thanks, see you in the breaks,” I smiled as she let herself out and I was left to my own devices. 

I used those last few moments before each show to complete my own personal, pre-show ritual of making sure I was hydrated and praying. 

Once I heard someone, an assistant, I think, ready to interrupt my quiet time before the show and then heard security stopping her. He politely told her it was my worship time. She informed him that God had better and more important duties to do than to make sure my concert went well. It angered me in the moment, but in hindsight, it just proved how misunderstood I was.

I didn’t care if the show didn’t go to plan – sure it would be irritating and if it wasn’t my fault, the person who was responsible would have been hearing about it, but performing to me was what I knew was a God-given talent. I never prayed for a fantastic show, I wasn’t an idiot, I knew that by comparison of the needy prayers of millions of others, that ask would seem vapid and selfish.

I used that time wisely to reflect on my life – to take stock of everything that I had rather than all the things that I didn’t. I prayed to God that no one would be injured in the crowd, something I always asked for after hearing too many awful stories on the news of each city I visited. I would pray for my family, friends and fans. On tour I would experience meeting many fans; sometimes they had similar stories; heartbreaking ones or ones of suffering; and some like me, just plain alone and so I prayed for every single one of those people, that God would be with them and help to alleviate their suffering.

I didn’t really feel the need to flaunt my faith or go in to detail with anyone about my pre-show ritual because it was personal.

After drinking my juice I sat on the floor and began to do a few stretches in between prayers.

God, take care of Casey, I know things feel a bit confusing, but it’s not her fault, I’m just glad she’s okay. I did tell her I’d see her when I get back, but everything felt so up in the air when I spoke to Diane.

She’s been through too much already, don’t let her them turn out to be greedy or disloyal, don’t let them hurt me, please.

I knew something was amiss though. The tone in Diane’s voice had changed; the conversation had felt strained. Since I’d been on tour a certain awkwardness had developed within our friendship that I couldn’t really place my finger on.

Perhaps it was a sixth sense, but I kind of knew to expect something that would upset me. I figured they would slowly drift from my life because I couldn’t help Diane the way that she wanted. I knew that would be devastating given how close we’d all grown over the three or so years I took getting to know the small, struggling family, but I also was aware that given my life, it was probably bound to happen.

If it happened with family, it would certainly happen with those who were not. Friendships were only ever part time in my life. People inevitably grew tired of me being so busy that I couldn’t speak for longer than a few minutes on the phone at a time, or that hanging out could only happen once in a blue moon.

Perhaps that was why I often found myself lavishing the people that came in to my life and probably why they began to develop a sense of entitlement to material items that I could provide upon their demand.

Money took away a lot of pride when it came to people, I’d discovered, especially when they weren’t as financially free as I was.

I breathed a sigh. I thanked God again and got up from the ground. I moved over to the costume rack that would be moved closer to the stage after I went on. I dressed myself in the same outfit as the night before and stood before the large, lit mirrors and stared at myself, fussing with my curls a little before feeling as satisfied as I was going to be.


**

“Michael, Michael…” someone rapped at my door urgently. It was a few minutes late. We were due to be on stage in less than five minutes and the assistant had yet to come and get me. I had been starting to feel annoyed.

“Come in, we’re late!” I hissed a little hurriedly, gathering my bottle of Gatorade. 

The door opened and shut behind him again. I frowned. I had no time for idle chit-chat, I had to get on stage. I could already hear the crowd hysteria, “We love you! We love you! We love you!”

It felt pretty great. 

“Michael, sit down for a minute,” his face was serious and he never called me by my name. I was pretty sure I was about to get a lecture about something. I got in to trouble the night before for allowing a female fan to kiss my lips.

So what? It made her night. Apparently it made me look bad, I wasn’t aware of how, but anyway. 

“What?” I laughed in a disbelieving way. “Larry,” I began, glancing at the clock, “we’ve got like, 2 and a half minutes, can’t you hear the fans?” 

He was holding a small bit of paper and he took a seat anyway, ignoring me “Michael, sit down,” he told me. It was at that moment when I realized he wasn’t playing around, that something was wrong.

I thought about my family, I hoped everyone was okay. Had there been an accident?

Were my staff okay? The fans? Did something happen out there during the pre-show entertainment?

“W…what is it?” 

“Michael, something very serious is happening back home,” he said calmly. I sat down slowly and waited for the next words to come out of his mouth.

I had a bit of a paranoid mind – a creative one too. Had aliens landed and waged a war with America? Hey, I read up on Roswell—it was plausible, and quite frankly, I was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. I hid a smirk but it dispersed as quickly as it came.

Right. Serious.

But then there was the tensions abroad within the Soviet states – was it something to do with that? I wouldn’t have been surprised.

I could tell that Larry was having trouble trying to tell me what the problem was. He smoothed down his grew sports jacket and sucked in a deep breath.

“About 45 minutes ago, policed served a search warrant on Neverland.”

“What?” I exclaimed quietly before giving a laugh, “I mean… what?” I was confused, “why?” Immediately I thought about the owners before me, it was only a newly acquired property that I was now predominantly living in.

“They won’t say at this time for sure, but… Michael, which kids have you been spending your time with over these past few months?” 

The questions felt very unrelated and I wasn’t putting it together yet. “I haven’t been home for four months, but I did see Casey and Diane late last week and I had Aubery, Josh and Iggy here for a few days last month, but that’s it? Has something happened to one of them?” 

Immediately I prayed that my young friends would be okay. 

“They are reporting that you are being investigated, Michael,” he told me delicately.

“For?” I felt winded. Surely it was nothing serious, tax fraud? The IRS had audited me about five times in the past decade, but nope, I was squeaky clean. I did everything right by the book.

Larry took a deep breath and avoided my intrusive stare, “for improper conduct with one of those kids…”

What!

I stared for a few moments, letting it sink in. The next few moments felt like time had completely stopped. I couldn’t breathe.

I felt Larry’s arm on my shoulder, “Mr. Jackson, what do you want to do about the show?” 

“Th..the… sh-how?” I stammered as if the concert was a foreign concept to me.

“Yeah, do you want to cancel?”

I looked down at my empty hands and stared for a moment. I felt judged. It was almost as though I could feel his eyes staring in to my soul to see if they could find any traces of guilt.

But, as I’d learned that just because something was being reported, didn’t necessarily make it true. It could be all just a storm in a teacup. The media finding an idea and running with it, that seemed to be their way, right?

That must have been it.

Then I began to laugh. A maddening, relieving, disbelieving burst of laughter that I was sure came as a shock to Larry. He eyed me seriously, wondering if I was crazy and guilty.

“It’ll blow over once they realize there’s been a mistake,” I told him, breathing deeply feeling relief within my resolve. I had nothing to be worried about anyway, my friends would tell them the truth. I almost smiled when I thought of how Diane would react if someone merely suggested that I touched Casey inappropriately after all the ways in which I had helped her child find life again.

I wasn’t worried anymore.

I got up from the couch. “Don’t worry Larry, I’m fine. Maybe someone prank-tipped them, there is no way in the world someone is gonna tear my home apart based on a silly story. I’m late for the show, we better get going.” 

“Mi-Michael… I think this is serious.” 

I grinned at him, “You’re more worried than I am, don’t be,” I insisted, “I’ll give Diane a call after the show and I’ll call my sister-in-law and make sure those three are all fine too.” 

He didn’t look convinced, but in this industry every time the media breathed my name everyone could come and report to me solemnly as if a silly story about my nose or my ‘strange’ shopping trips would some how send me in to a panic.

I was used to it. The media had once accused me of being investigated for a stolen watch. They had to retract it since it was entirely made up. This was going to be another one of those stories.

Smear-Michael-Jackson.

It came with the territory.

Larry hesitantly led me down the short, empty corridor that led to the wings of the stage. I could tell he had some reservations, but I wasn’t going to be worried by mere gossip right before I was about to go on stage. The chanting of ‘we love you’ got louder and louder until it was completely deafening.

I’d basically already forgotten Larry’s concerns and gave my signal to the band.

 

I had a show to go on with.

Chapter 2 by SkyWriter

Chapter Two: This Is Injustice

I had no indication anything was wrong. Everyone continued working hard to put on a great show. There weren’t any glitches, energy was high except for the worried glances Larry had given me once I was off stage.

We were on our way back to my dressing room so I could quickly get changed and leave straight away.

I passed two fans that I knew very well from my travels. I had no idea how they got in, but I wasn’t alarmed. They were okay.

“Hi!” I exclaimed. It was usually a bit like this, after I finished shows, I was exhausted and smelly and dripping with sweat but usually I was in a state of euphoria that wouldn’t allow me to rest for hours afterwards until I’d just crash.

I could only remember the name of one of the girls. Larry tried to pull me past them, but I resisted because I hated to disappoint my fans and I could tell that however they got past security was an effort worth commending.

“Michael!” the taller, blond of the two exclaimed happily despite tear stains that had adorned her cheeks. Sometimes fans became overwhelmed at shows. I was a little immune to the tears so I said nothing about it.

Both girls were attractive but the shorter, brunette of the two appealed to me the most. She was so pretty to look at. I thought that perhaps she may have had some kind of Asian background. She had large dark eyes and a dazzling smile. I only remembered her name because it was so unique.

“The show was so wonderful,” the shorter girl gushed. I guess I appreciated her more because she didn’t say too much. She didn’t kiss my ass in a typical way. She didn’t say a lot and I didn’t think it was because she was shy, but she was always a little stoic around me. She saved her words for ones that always meant something.

They went to hug me, but I was aware that I didn’t smell amazing.

I hesitated before chuckling, “I’m sorry, I’m a bit harsh on the nose.” I apologized.

“I’m sure you smell great!” blondie grinned, staring at me with her large, piercing green eyes. 

“What were your names again, I’m so sorry?” I asked not wanting to offend the tall blond by only remembering her friend’s name.

“Beth,” she supplied as she hugged me tightly despite my warning, “I can’t believe you don’t remember!” she teased me, “you saw us last week in Costa Rica!”

I smiled humbly, “I know, I know, I have an awful memory,” I looked to her friend expectantly. She smiled sweetly and hugged me. Her hug seemed to say more to me.

“My name is Malania,” she reminded me, “its okay that you didn’t remember, you probably meet about a thousand different faces every day,” she added, holding my gaze.

Yep, a thousand different faces, but I still always remembered this beauty. Her almond-shaped, darker-than-chestnut eyes showed such kindness and tenderness. That wasn’t to say the blonde friend who stood patiently didn’t interest me. These two girls were probably two of my most favourite of my following fans, but I just took more to Malania for whatever reason.

“Michael has to leave, ladies, I’m very sorry,” Larry spoke up finally clearing his throat. He had an air of urgency about him and went to speak in to his radio that had been attached to his belt. 

“I got time, Larry,” I told him. He gave me the stink eye which I pretended not to see.

“So how’d you get back here? Are my guys taking a nap tonight?” I joked, looking also to Larry for an answer. 

Beth shrugged her shoulders, “we came in….carefully,” she winked at Malania. They both giggled sheepishly.

“We didn’t want to intrude, but we thought it was important to tell you how much we love you. I have my whole family praying for you and I don’t even care what they’re saying because we know you’d never har-“

“Michael really has to go,” Larry cut in with more urgency, “come on Michael.” 

“No, wait… what do you mean?” I asked Malania, feeling concern over take me. It was just a twinge of concern since I had long forgotten about the stupidity of what I’d been told was happening back home right before I went on stage.

The two girls exchanged glances of shock and horror.

“Um… the things that were reported—“ Beth added, “we don’t believe them. We will always be by your side.” 

I felt my airways closing up. I tried to keep my cool and glanced over at Larry as if for an explanation. 

“Are you talking about the rumours in the news?” I pressed, “Larry has anything developed?” I asked, trying to get a clear confirmation from the three of them. 

“Michael this is not the ti-“

I drew in a deep breath and looked back at the two beauties in front of me that security were drawing near to. I held up my hand to them to signify them to back off. 

“Um yeah…” Malania nodded uncomfortably, “you know about it right?” 

“Yeah, Larry here briefed me before the show.” I tried to comfort her with my smile. Beth hugged me again. I wasn’t really ready for it and I almost stumbled back. The security guard went to do something but I shook my head again.


Beth had tears falling down her face when she drew away. She quickly tried to wipe them away. “Its-just-not-fair!” she hiccupped.

I looked to Malania who’s eyes were also filling with tears. She was blinking them back furiously. I knew from their reactions that something serious was going on. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” I spoke to Beth despite the sinking feeling in my stomach, “I’ll be okay, I promise.” 

I reached my hand out to Malania and gave her hand a squeeze. These two were upset and frightened for me, yet I still wasn’t entirely certain why. “Thank you for coming to see me tonight, I’d better get changed and leave before the crowds get too rough okay?” 

The girls nodded and understood. I gave Malania a hug and thanked her for her prayers. 

“We love you so much Michael. Please don’t forget that,” she told me. Beth echoed her sentiments. 

I smiled at them both and watched the security escort them out. But for the life of me I still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of my personal security guard, Warren.

“Larry, what the hell is going on?” I hissed as we headed quickly in to the dressing room so I could grab a change of clothes. 

**

I wasn’t sure for how much longer I could hold it together. It hadn’t been more than half a day since the news story broke and already my personal security had walked. He had been working for me for more than 3 years. I didn’t understand how he could suddenly just get on a plane, homebound and leave me without so much as a word.

I made the mistake of turning on CNN when I got back to the hotel. It was worse than I could have ever imagined.

Jackson, 30 is currently touring North America on his Bad World Tour and tonight proved that ‘the show must go on’ as he seemed oblivious to the troubles he faces once he hits U.S soil.

A short time ago, Santa Barbara Country Sheriff Don Sheldon gave a statement to confirm the investigation against Jackson.

Despite the fact that my eyes watered, my body felt heavy with disbelief and my hands trembled uncontrollably, I couldn’t seem to flip the channel.

“We can confirm that the Los Angeles Police Department served a search warrant on Jackson’s property in Santa Barbara. We are looking for any evidence to support allegations of improper conduct between Jackson and a minor. No charges have been laid at this time, though we expect that may change over the course of the next few days.

Charges? Against me? For what!

I stood up and paced the room. I didn’t know what to do – Larry informed me that he had spent the whole time I was on stage liaising with my legal team.

How could someone accuse me of this? I knew there had to be a misunderstanding. I poured over all of my company in the past year. Of course I spent time with children—a lot of them, as well, yet… I couldn’t really think of too many that I was unattended with.

There were my typical nieces and nephews who often came to spend time with me on tour if there was a school vacation. Aubery, Iggy and Josh had come to stay a little over a month ago, but never in a million years would they have accused me of something so ridiculous.

There was Casey too. I almost smiled when I thought of Casey, she was the absolute light of my life. She and her Mom, Diane were as close as I would ever have to my own family. I knew Diane trusted me implicitly with her daughter. It was hard when I’d been on tour, Casey missed me so much, but I didn’t want to disrupt her schooling, given that she had really just began.

Nope, not Casey.

Who then?

Samuel was the only other kid I could think of. He was from a broken home and was the son of a friend of mine. Well, former friend. Perhaps that was it, revenge! I wouldn’t have put it past Dennis to pull some stupid thing like this.

How does someone come back from an accusation so vile, though, I wondered.

I threw the TV remote on the bed and sat down anxiously. I stared at the lavish design of the carpet beneath my feet. I felt alone. I had been advised to speak to not a single soul about what was happening unless it were my mother.

I wanted to speak to her so much but I knew she’d be in bed. If she hadn’t already heard what was going on, I didn’t want to concern her. 

I heard a rasp at my door. It awoke my thoughts. I jumped up assuming that it was Larry to give me some kind of update.

I was surprised to find Rosa standing before the sturdy oak entrance. She worked for me, we got along well, but we never saw one another outside of my dressing room. I felt very self-conscious, becoming acutely aware of my wet cheeks and my homely pajamas and grey hoodie.

“Rosa…”

She looked around the corridor a little nervously. “Mr. Jackson, I know we’re not friends, but I had to come and check on you.” 

I didn’t really know what to say. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t know her well, but I desperately didn’t want to be alone.

“Come in…” I stepped aside and allowed her to take a step inside. She was also looking more than a bit casual in a pair of dark grey sweat pants and a salmon v-cut shirt. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, “Larry and a couple of other guys told me not to bother you, but … I was concerned that no one is with you right now.” 

“Thank you…” I told her quietly, “no one has actually asked if I’m okay.”

“Are you?” she pressed, taking a seat on the couch that I had motioned for her to take. 

I shrugged, “I don’t know…” I replied honestly, “I’m trying to rationalize it, I turned on the TV and…” I sucked in a deep breath, “I dunno… I’m waiting for everyone to tell me it’s a joke.”

“Do you know who accused you?” she wondered curiously. I shook my head slowly; regretfully.

I glanced at her for a brief second, wondering if she knew. Perhaps she had watched more of the news than I had, maybe there was new information. “Do you?” 

I wiped away new tears that had left my eyes. I felt like an idiot crying in front of a woman that I barely knew. “What do you think of all this?” I asked in a soft voice as I finally stopped pacing and took a seat on my bed. “Do you think I did it?” 

She frowned at me and rose an eyebrow, “Mr Jackson, no, of course not. That never even passed through my mind.”  

“Michael,” I corrected the woman before me, “call me Michael, please.” 

I got up again and started pacing. I couldn’t keep still. When I was sitting, my legs were shaking, I had too much energy. “You know, about eight months ago, someone in my camp said that it looked bad that I was hanging out with children so much…” I explained, “and that people might start to think I was strange but I didn’t care cos people already think I’m nuts…”

Rosa said nothing, she sat and watched me pace, looking a little upset herself. Actually, her expression was probably more one of concern than upset. Why should she be upset, I thought, no one was smearing her name across the globe.

“I should have listened…”

“Why should you have to be something you’re not, just to appease everyone else?” Rosa asked me. Yep, that’s pretty much what I had told the advisor who had stuck his nose in less than a year back.

“Well if I’d listened maybe I wouldn’t be in this place.” 

“Do you have someone you can call, Michael? A friend, family members? What about your Mom?” she asked, ignoring my reply.

“I’ll speak with my mother in the morning, I don’t want to wake her up and worry her, she doesn’t need this.”

The trembling that I felt in my hands began to consume my whole body and I knew it wasn’t going to be long til I really fell apart at the seams. I didn’t want anybody to be there for it. I looked at the gorgeous make up artist in front of me. She had been working with me for awhile, we talked some days, we joked, and I told her about my music – but we weren’t friends and we didn’t know each other like this.

“Thanks for coming to make sure I’m okay, you should probably go, Larry said I shouldn’t talk to anyone until I’ve spoken with a lawyer.” 

She got up from her seat and gave me a weak smile. “Michael, we don’t know each other very well, but I want you to be okay. I just wanted to extend a hand for you to hold if you need it, no questions asked.” 

“Thank you, that means a lot to me,” I replied. She took a step closer and gave me a hug. I almost melted in to her body, but I was aware that the second that I did, I would let go, and despite her warm sentiment, I wasn’t ready for her to see that side of me.

I withdrew from the embrace first and together we walked to the door. She flashed me a smile and waved and that was the last time I ever saw her.

**

I lay in my cold sweat listening to the deafening chants of my fans downstairs. I felt sorry for the other people staying in the hotel, but needless to say those chants really comforted me.

I refused to get out of bed. Larry had been in and out trying to coax me up. He wanted to call a meeting immediately so we could figure out what to do with the show that night. I didn’t care. Fuck the show.

Fuck the world.

I wiped fresh tears with the backs of my hands and wished that part of my grief would end.

The phone conversation I had with my mother early in the morning consisted of me sobbing down the line and her trying to think of things to say that would be of some comfort. In the end, I could hear her crying too.

She offered to jump on a flight, but I was already mentally planning my escape route home out of this city. I wanted the tour canceled. I was done. I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to have hundreds of thousands of intrusive eyes cast upon me wondering if what the newsreaders were alleging I did, was something that I was truly capable of.

Laying in this bed beneath the covers despite how hot Mexico City was, was my only shield from the world. It was the safest place that I could think to be and I wasn’t coming out.

I didn’t even want to go home because I was scared of what would be waiting for me when I did.

What if I set foot off the plane and the police were there to arrest me? What if there were crowds of angry people? I knew how people felt about paedophiles. I knew the kind of anger it evoked in people, so what if someone was going to hurt me?

I buried my face in my pillow. I couldn’t sleep. I felt exhausted. Over night I had been up late trying to rationalize the whole situation. I carefully laid out each tiny fragment of information I had been given and relayed each different scenario and found a peaceful resolve for each of them.

It was my way of mentally preparing for the worst.

But with the dawn of a new day brought new fear and new anxiety and the realization that there was no peaceful resolve for any of the outcomes in this situation.

At the very least they would apologise for the misunderstanding, yet my name would still be tarnished and people wouldn’t want to hear that my name had been cleared.

Larry had stopped knocking. He interrupted my thoughts and barged right inside.

“Michael, get up out of bed,” he said impatiently, “we need to organize what’s going to happen. Go have a shower and brush your hair, you’ll feel better.” 

“I’m not getting up,” I replied petulantly, “The only thing that will get me out of bed is when we are leaving this place for home.” 

“We are leaving this place for home, but you need to get up. I have papers for you to sign and you need to speak to a lawyer.”

“When?” I pressed, staring blankly at the wall, “when are we leaving?” 

“Early morning. Best way to get you back to America unnoticed is to leave when you will be least missed. We’ll fly straight to San Bernadino airport and your mother and father will be waiting there for you.” 

“Okay,” I felt a tiny little bit of relief knowing that I wouldn’t be flying in to LAX. “Well, I’ll get out of bed right before we leave.”

Larry drew in a deep breath, “Michael,” he began, starting to lose his temper, “get out of bed now, or I’m going to drag you out myself.”

That was fine, I was losing my temper too.

“I’m NOT getting out of bed!” I told him exasperated.

He came to my side and tried grabbing my arm, “You’re acting like a fucking teenager, get up Jackson, you need to face the music.” 

I felt insulted but I knew he was just angry, but so was I. “What? You don’t speak to me like that!”

“This is bullshit!” he snapped, “you can’t hide away from the world, Michael, look at what’s happening! You’re being accused of molesting a fucking kid, this is no joke, get the FUCK out of bed and see the lawyer… fuck!”

 “IM NOT GETTING OUT OF BED!” I yelled, “Fuck you! Fuck the lawyer! I just want to go home!”

I knew Larry was surprised. I never swore. Well, I did, but I chose my moments wisely, “fuck me? Fine.” He calmly found his way to the door and slammed it so hard behind him that it made the room echo.

It was also the last time that I saw him too.

Chapter 3 by SkyWriter

So, a few employees down, but it wasn’t going to stop me. Despite my roller coaster emotions of sadness, anger and numbness, I hadn’t expected my reunion with my parents to be so … empty.

When no one came to get me about the flight home, I assumed that Larry had given up indefinitely. There had been something about the way he had spoken to me and lost his temper that made me feel a little relieved he was gone.

Though, I didn’t know what to do. I called my father for his help, and for all his faults and all the fear that he filled me with, I knew he truly loved and cared for me. I didn’t need to lift a finger, he called back just forty minutes later with flights organized, cars set up and a decoy ready to go whenever I was.

He’d organized two private security guards to aid me back home.

I packed my own things, a rarity these days, and I was on my way home.

**

My mother held her arms out as I made my way slowly toward her. There was nothing that ever could compare to the comfort of my mother’s embrace. I almost burst in to tears but I noticed my father standing beside her and immediately I put on a brave face. He hated tears. I had to hold on to any shred of masculinity I had while I was around him.

My mother was full of relief to see that I was physically OK. She slid her arms around me and held me warmly for a long time without even daring to let go. I knew part of the comfort was for her as well as me. She felt relieved to have her baby boy in her arms. I felt her lips on the side of my face, kissing me.

“How are you, Michael?” he asked me as I slowly and reluctantly drew away. She took my cheeks in her hands and looked in to my eyes. I bravely blinked back my tears and gave her a weak smile.

“I’m okay,” I nodded, the three of us stood there knowing that I was full of crap. I wasn’t okay, but I needed to save face in front of my security, temporary assistant and the driver that were all waiting for us to go.

“Hi Joseph,” I greeted my father, “thanks for all of your help.” 

“Don’t mention it, son,” he replied, giving me a brief hug that was awkward and uncomfortable, but I appreciated the fact that he was trying.

“Can I come stay at your place?” I asked my father and mother, they knew I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to be alone. I just wanted to have my Mother take care of me and fuss over me and keep harm from me.

Or to keep me from harming me.

“Michael, why would you even need to ask that?” my mother asked me with an almost reproachful stare. I supposed my question was more loaded than that. What I really meant was, can I come and stay and can you make sure everyone leaves me alone except you.

My brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, cousins and friends came and went from Hayvenhurst all the time. I wasn’t interested in seeing anyone except my mother. My Dad knew how to do business when it was necessary and I knew that for all his lack of emotion there was a heart beneath the scrub and that heart was full of love and compassion for my situation. Though, my father was a more practical man than an emotion one, but maybe that was okay.

No other words were spoken, my luggage was collected and we slipped in heavily tinted black Mercedes that would hardly go noticed. The whole way to Hayvenhurst, my mother sat with me in the back seats holding my hand tightly as I rested my head against the car window losing to the monsters that had taken up residence in my head.

Each passing hour made it harder and harder to breathe.

**

“I don’t want it…” I replied to the knock at my door. I knew it was food. They had been trying to feed me for the past day. I’m pretty sure it was all at my Mom’s urging.

I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t hungry.

“Mr. Jackson I’ll just leave it by the door,” the unfamiliar voice spoke. I was pretty sure it was either a maid or the chef, herself.

I didn’t reply. I rested my back against the door and sighed. I knew with my refusal to eat would come a visit from my mother like I’d had at lunchtime and at breakfast.

Every time I ate something I felt it sitting at the back of my throat and wanted to throw it straight up.

And to top things off, my dozen or so phone calls to Diane weren’t being taken. I needed her, I needed my friend. I needed Casey. One of those little smile’s wouldn’t have gone astray.

I remembered the first time I saw the tight blonde ringlets springing crazily from the toddler’s face I was enchanted. She had stared at me curiously while sucking on her thumb.

She needed care, she was so ill.

I felt the door jiggling behind me, “Mom, I’m okay,” I told her almost losing my patience. I remembered though, I wanted it this way. I wanted to have someone fuss over me. I knew, logically, throughout my sadness and my despair, I needed someone or else I’d let myself go completely.

“I want to come in, Michael,” she told me simply. I didn’t have enough strength to keep arguing the point. I moved away from the door and went and took a seat on the couch of my old living quarters. No one had changed it since I’d moved, I suspected that was Mom’s orders.

I looked up at the high cathedral ceilings to the Disney posters and the art that hung from the beams. There was a religious icon that I knew my Mom didn’t approve of, but I always felt that the Greek orthodox painting from a fan gave me strength.

I drew in a deep breath as she let herself in. She was holding the tray of food that the maid or whoever had left my door. 

“Michael, I want you to eat something, you need to eat your supper, you’ve eaten two bites of a sandwich…” she looked over me fondly in the darkened room and placed the wooden tray on the coffee table before me. 

“I’ve tried calling Diane,” I told her ignoring her pleas with me to eat, “I’ve left messages on the machine, I’ve tried calling her Mom, but there’s no answer. I hope Casey is alright.” I was just thinking out loud.

My Mom was grimacing, I assumed, feeling bad that my friends were avoiding me. 

“You don’t need to call another family, you have your family right here for you…” she took my hand gently and gave it a little squeeze.

“I love Diane,” I told her, “she’s my friend,” I felt my eyes welling up quite suddenly, quicker than what I had anticipated. “I think she’s turned her back on me, I know she loves me too, but she’s probably thinking that Casey needs to stay away from me until the truth comes out.”

“Michael… did you say anything to Diane that could have upset her recently?” she asked. 

I gave my Mom a look as I wiped my tears from my eyes. I shook my head but then remembering back to our last long conversation before things got a little weird and finally shrugged. 

“Are you sleeping with her?” 

My eyes widened in shock and I laughed. At least there was some comic relief between my tears, I thought. “No, Mother,” I assured her, managing a weak smile, “we’re friends. Even if I was interested in her that way, I would never risk losing Casey. Can you imagine if we got together and then broke up? I’d never see Casey again.” 

“What is it about this child?” my Mom asked, almost frustrated with my level of love for her. 

How could I tell her the connection I had with her? How could I ever explain that I was on the brink of nothingness when that little girl had looked in to my eyes and saved me? No one understood, only Diane and Casey and I could never tell another soul about the time I had come undone.

Especially when I could feel myself unraveling slowly again. The slow and steady decline of my life began just four days earlier when Larry had brought me the news.

I just shrugged. 

“Michael, please eat this, I know you don’t want anything but you have to eat.” 

I looked down at the plate. It was just a small portion of rice with vegetables as well as a tall glass of juice.

I didn’t like to disappoint my mother. I hated to see her worried. I picked up the small bowl and the fork and took a tiny mouthful. I chewed it for a long period of time before I could convince myself to try to swallow. 

“Good boy…” she praised me which made me feel regressed back to childhood. She placed her hand on my back in comfort as I ate a second mouthful to appease her. I could immediately feel my throat closing up and a lump forming as though I couldn’t get the food down past my esophagus.

I picked up the juice and took a few gulps and stopped short of retching. I tried another mouthful of the rice, but I was struggling. I finally put it down. 

“I can’t eat more,” I told her simply. 

“Okay. I’ll leave it here, just a little bit at a time okay? That’s all I ask.” 

I nodded. I leaned back and drew in a deep breath. “Mom, what’s gonna happen to me?” I wondered in a voice that I knew sounded more like a scared child. “Do you think I’m going to go to jail?” 

She wrapped her arms around me instantly and for the first time since I was had arrived home, she gave me the kind of embrace that I’d longed for. She brought my head to her shoulder and stroked my curls. “No, sweetheart, no, no, no, I will never let them take you to jail, you hear me?” 

“What if you can’t stop it?” I asked, my eyes filling with tears, “please don’t let them ruin me?” 

I knew immediately my Mom was crying too.

I couldn’t control my emotions any longer. I cried and cried while my mother stroked my hair and held me tightly just as I had needed her to do back in Mexico. I wanted her to tell me it was okay and she did. She told me not to worry, that everyone was doing their bit to take care of me. 

“I feel like God is mad at me…” I murmured tearfully. 

“God is not mad at you, sweetheart, you did nothing wrong.” 

“You don’t think so, do you? You didn’t believe it when you heard the news, did you?” I asked just to be sure. 

“No, Michael, absolutely not. Don’t be silly.” 

“I’m scared that Diane believes them that’s why she’s not answering me,” I spoke my fears out loud. 

“A good friend wouldn’t believe such a thing about you, Michael, she wouldn’t be avoiding you, she would be right here beside you.” 

“But… she has a young daughter, she has to put her first, I understand that.” I defended my friend. 

“Your sister-in-law, Lisa, has been here with Mercedes since you arrived home yesterday just waiting for you to feel up to company. Ever since she found out you were home she has been bursting at the seams to see you, Michael, and Lisa trusts you – she would never have brought her over otherwise. Anyone who knows you, knows that these rumours are false.” 

I drew in a deep breath. “Can I see the Mersy? Can you send her up? She doesn’t know what’s happening does she?”

Mercedes was my 6-year-old niece to Randy. He had nothing to do with her these days, but we did, we made the effort. Mom adored her and she adored Lisa too, we all did. It wasn’t her fault Randy had run around on her with someone else’s wife.

The test was if Lisa would allow Mercedes to see me alone. 

“No, she’s too young.” 

“I can’t see Lisa. I don’t want her looking at me…” 

“Michael, you’re being silly, we’re all just worried.” 

“Please…” I begged, “I just want to see Mers Just for now.” 

Mom agreed reluctantly and got up out of the couch, pausing just to place a kiss upon my forehead. “I love you Michael, you are my precious son, I need you to help me take care of you, so please eat.” 

“Okay,” I agreed in a whisper, knowing that there was no way I could eat anything more. I already had what little food I had swallowed swirling around in my stomach, threatening to come up at any given second. 

Mom left me to it and went downstairs. I began to scrape the food in to the trash, leaving just a tiny little bit in the bottom of the bowl, knowing that she wouldn’t believe me if I ate every tiny bit. I covered it over with some balled up paper so that she wouldn’t suspect anything before returning it to the tray. 

My niece didn’t come up straight away and I only assumed Lisa didn’t trust me. 

I started feeling sick and angry all over again and so desperate for Diane to answer my calls. I picked up the receiver on the telephone and tried her number again.

Hi, you’ve reached Diane and Casey Blackwood. I’m unable to take your call right now so if you want to leave your name and your number after the beep, we’ll get back to you as soon as possible!”  In the background right before the beep was a vibrant sounding Casey, “I’M CASEY!” she shouted in her giggly-loud voice. It always made me smile, even when I was feeling this blue.

That child was my remedy.

I opened my mouth as the machine beeped to leave yet another neurotic message but after the beep was a new recorded message. “The message bank is now at full capacity, you are unable to leave a message. Please call back later.”

I sighed and put the receiver down when I heard the door click open and a familiar face come catapulting toward me, throwing a mess of skinny arms and legs around me. 

“Uncle Michael! Uncle Michael!!!” She chanted with a great deal of excitement. I was able to momentarily forget all of my personal problems and concentrate on the darling before me. 

“Hi baby!” I greeted her with a smile. I swept her both up in a big cuddle. It was different from the kind of embrace my mother provided me with, yet just as comforting. Mercedes didn’t need to ask any questions or probe me to eat or act a certain way. This girl just adored me and in turn, I adored her.

It was a more than welcome reunion. 

“Where’s Mommy?” I wondered, thinking she was probably just outside the door, probably with a glass against the wall making sure everything was kosher, I thought, a little bit cynically. 

“Mommy said you were feeling a sad so that we should come upstairs while she and Grandma go to the mall.” Mercedes informed me. I couldn’t explain why but a wave of relief filled me up as I realized that a woman who didn’t trust me would have never left me unattended in a room let alone an entire house for an extended period of time. 

“So we get to hang out for the afternoon?” I wondered out loud. 

“Yeahhh! We could play outside!” Mercedes suggested. 

“I don’t think so, not today, I’d prefer to stay inside, it’s a bit too sunny for my skin,” I explained. I didn’t want to go out and risk the chance of a worker or someone seeing me and asking questions or even intrusively staring at me, wondering if living beneath this encasement of skin was an evil heart that preyed upon the innocence of children.

I shuddered at the very thought.

“Okay Uncle,” she accepted the explanation without issue. “Grandma said that you have to eat your food…” she told me as she walked over to the coffee table with her hands behind her back, nosily looking in to the bowl. It made me laugh. 

“Well, I finished it, so there,” I poked my tongue out at her petulantly. She giggled and nodded with approval. 

“What do you want to do?” she asked me, “what are we gonna play today?” 

I smiled at her innocence and was so glad that there was someone in the world that wanted to be my friend and had no idea what was going on. 

“Anything you want,” I shrugged at the adorable little mixed race girl before me. She had skin the colour of weak coffee and a dash of freckles across her cheeks. Her hair was honey-brown bringing curls that were always pulled back neatly and a bouncy character that kept us all on our toes.

“When I come to grandmas, I like to watch videos of you and Daddy when you were little boys,” she informed me, making her way over to the slanted roof where I had plastered original photos of my brothers and I in our early days. She had always been drawn to that part of my room when I had lived there. 

It broke my heart that Randy, almost spitefully, refused to see his daughter or acknowledge her due to the fall out with her mother. She still referred to him as her Daddy and knew who he was, but didn’t quite understand that he had no desire for her.

I gave credit to Lisa for not filling her mind with awful details about him. Instead Lisa created a bit of a story that her father was busy with important things and that he loved her but couldn’t be around. I didn’t know which was more dangerous. I felt as though Lisa hoped Randy would come around in some time and acknowledge the little girl.

I hoped so too.

I made my way beside her and felt her tiny hand slip in to mine. “Uncle Michael can you lift me up so I can see that one?” she pointed to a photo of Randy and I, on the night of his very first performance as part of The Jacksons. He looked so proud. In fact, Mercedes looked so much like him. She had the high cheek-bone structure that our family had been blessed with, and the large, dark eyes that we all shared.

I remembered back almost a year when Randy had denied that Mercedes was his daughter. I shook my head thinking about how awful it had been and how blind he must have been if he truly believed his own words.

I lifted Mercedes up high and allowed her to pour over the photographs. “Uncle Michael,” she began in her curious voice, “is my Daddy a nice man?” 

In that moment I winced because I hated to lie. Randy and I got on just fine, but given the his treatment toward my niece and sister-in-law, I didn’t really feel he constituted being called a nice person. “Yeah Mercs, he’s a nice man.” 

“He looks nice,” she replied almost dreamily, “he looks like you, you’re nice. I bet he’s like you.” 

He is nothing like me.

I didn’t say anything. I placed her back down with the carpet safely back beneath her shoes.

“Uncle Michael, lets go for a walk outside…” she suggested, forgetting my explanation from earlier. 

“Mersy, come on now, I can’t go outside, my skin,” I reminded her. She glanced outside through the beautiful large bay window and gave a shrug.

“There’s no sun anymore, look,” she pointed, “there’s clouds, you won’t get sunburned and you could put a long shirt on.” She pointed to a red button down shirt that I had thrown over a pedestal lamp when I arrived home.

I sighed. I was pretty sure we were alone since Mom had been firm about not allowing anyone to come and see me. I was sure Lisa was an exception. Above all, Lisa and my mother were friends. Lisa helped her with things that she wasn’t able to physically take care of in her older age and things that she wasn’t comfortable getting professional help to take care of. 

“Pleeeeeeaseee….” she begged when she noticed that there was a tiny part that was considering it. I glanced at her, her big eyes were hopeful in her request. 

“Okay, okay…” I relented. I figured the fresh air might do me good, “but not for long, alright? Just for a short while.”

I slipped on the shirt and did a few buttons. I grabbed my niece’s hand and opened up the door and we made our way down the opulent staircase that I had insisted upon back more than ten years ago. We went down the foyer in to the living area and through to the white marble kitchen and through the back entrance.

There was so much greenery at Hayvenhurst. A patch of grass surrounded the back way of the house with a large water feature that seemed to be permanently running. I loved it. I loved the sound of it, I could hear it from my bedroom at night and I could see it from the window.

“Uncle Michael when I get big can I come and see your concert and sing with you?” Mercedes asked as he looked out over the empty property. He liked that it was empty and that there were no staff floating around.

“Absolutely, I’ll take you on tour with me and I’ll show you lots of beautiful places all over the world.” 

“Mommy said we couldn’t come to see you because it was too far and I was too young,” she informed him, letting go of his hand to take a flower from the garden. 

Michael smiled and watched her place it in her hair messily. 

“Yeah, maybe Mommy is right for now… but there will be time for that in the future.” 

I hope.

“Maybe Daddy will be able to visit too!” she said hopefully. I considered that the image of her father was akin to some kind of superhero, out doing good for the world while compromising his loving family for the good of mankind.

I felt sorry that when she grew old enough she’d have to face the awful truth that Randy was just a sorry ass parent.

“Maybe,” I smiled weakly. “How has school been?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Good, I have three friends at school,” she explained. I was glad to hear she was settling in. I had put forward money for her education and Randy had hit the roof about it, but I considered it an investment and I cared for my family deeply even if he didn’t.

“Great, what are their names?” I asked as we took short strides down a pathway that led to the end of the property where we kept livestock.

“One of my friends is called Vanessa and the other one is Caroline,” she explained.

“That’s only two, what’s the name of your other friend?” I asked with a smile, looking down at the 6 year old bouncing alongside of me happily. 

“Oh, its Carla. Uncle Michael, can we pet the cows?” she asked, seeing the cows in the distance.

“Maybe, if they’re not too scared.” I agreed knowing how skittish the cows were sometimes. 

“Michael!” I heard my voice being called. I whirled around to see who it was coming from. I didn’t immediately know the source of the sound. 

“Who’s that?” Mercedes asked spotting the man before I did. It was my lawyer who I had only met the night before. 

“Hold on a moment, Mers,” I said to the little girl. He was walking toward us. I started to feel a little faint. I knew it was serious by the way he was making his paces. 

I reached down and scooped up my niece. I knew something was off. I made my way toward him too. 

We met somewhere just before the grass turned back in to cobblestone about 20 meters from the house. 

“Hi Greg.” 

He grimaced and shook my hand again. He turned to Mercedes and had the good sense not to intimidate her with any urgent chatter regarding the pending case. 

“This is my niece Mercedes,” I introduced him, “Mers, this is Mr. Pattoway.” 

“Hello,” Greg greeted my niece, shaking her hand, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Mercedes suddenly grew shy. “Michael is there some place we could talk?” 

I didn’t want to talk, quite frankly I felt an anxiety attack coming on, but there was no one else around to stand in for me, to filter the bad news that I knew was impending. There was no other reason as to why this man had turned up unannounced.

“Umm… I guess,” my mouth reluctantly worked for me. I looked to Mercedes, “Sweetheart, Mr. Pattoway and I need to have a chat, do you think we could go see the cows a bit later?” 

She nodded with understanding. She was such a good kid. 

The three of us walked back to the house in silence. I knew something was seriously wrong. I felt like I was walking a very, very, very long plank.

And there was that food, threatening to come back up and expel itself everywhere. My arms and legs felt faint and tingly, I was surprised I managed to carry Mercedes all the way back inside. 

She slipped down when we got in. I showed Greg to the table and asked Mercedes if she could go and play in the living room for a little while. With my heart beating harder and harder in my chest, I made my way back to the dining area. 

“Can I get you something?” I asked, “Tea or coffee?” Who was I kidding? I couldn’t have made someone coffee if my life depended on it. 

“No Michael, please take a seat. I want to be as quick as I can…”

“Okay. I slunk in to the chair across from him. My body felt a bit limp, “can it wait til my mother and Joseph arrive?” 

“No, Michael, I’m afraid not.” 

I looked at the balding man in front of me with perfectly kept moustache above his lip. He looked serious, but still compassionate. 

“Okay.” I agreed in a whisper. “What’s going on?” 

“I heard you made more than 27 calls to Diane Hargrove between Friday and today.” 

My heart jumped in to my throat. “Is she okay?” I asked, immediately concerned that something had happened which would explain why she hadn’t answered my calls. It didn’t occur to me it would be strange that my lawyer would be aware of my friend’s existence.

“Yes Michael, she’s fine, but you need to stop contacting her. It looks bad.” 

“What, why?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. He stared at me for a moment as if trying to tell me something, or to work out if I was just plain crazy.

There was silence from my end until suddenly I understood.

“No…” I murmured. 

“Michae-“ Greg began to explain when he realized I obviously had had no faintest idea. 

“She wouldn’t do this to me…” I shook my head in disbelief. I felt my eyes fill with tears and spill over though this time I didn’t even care. The hurt, the betrayal, the stupidity of it all, it was all too consuming, all too painful to deal with.

I could have keeled over with shock. “I love Casey, I would never…

“Michael, did your parents not tell you the details of what was going on?” he wanted to know pointedly.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to know, I can’t deal with this…” I got up and wiped my eyes. “Diane was my friend, I loved her, she wouldn’t do this, I have to talk to her.” 

“You are not allowed to talk to her Michael.” He paused for a moment before he started again, “This might be hard to hear, but Diane is alleging you molested Casey on more than four occasions when she was left in your care.”

I felt winded. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I got up, making an emergency beeline for the trash. I began to bring up everything that was inside of me. The little bit of food I’d managed to keep down over the past few days, but mostly it was bile. And probably all of my emotions that I’d been trying my hardest to keep bottled up.

My niece came running to see what the commotion was. I wasn’t sure what Greg was doing, but I heard him tell Mercedes to stand back. I felt a cold cloth being placed over the back of my neck. I choked back my sobs as I finished off in the trash, pulling the cloth and pressing it over my face. 

Greg slowly led me back to the table and sat me down. He brought me a glass of water. I rested my head on my arms and said nothing. My misery barely allowed me the will to move any longer.

Loving people ‘til it hurt – I finally knew the meaning of it.

I felt Mercedes arms around me. I barely had the energy to reciprocate.

Once I had calmed down a little bit, Greg began again. “I’m sorry to bring you this news, I was certain your Mother was going to tell you.” 

I thought back to the conversation earlier when it seemed she had been frustrated with me for being concerned about Diane. It all made sense now.

“I didn’t want to know. I didn’t let her tell me anything.” 

“More information is better than no information in this case, Michael,” Greg told me frankly. “And I really believe you need to take your blinkers off. I know you’re scared, I know these allegations are crazy, but I want you to be prepared.” 

I wiped my eyes again as fresh tears began to fall. Mercedes knew something was wrong. She didn’t say a lot but she was clingy. I allowed her to climb in to my lap and cuddle me close.

Then he dropped the bombshell that I truly wasn’t prepared for.

“They’re going to issue a warrant for your arrest at about 7pm tonight.”

I may as well have been dead and buried.

Chapter 4 by SkyWriter

 

Chapter Four: I gave her time

It had turned in to the saddest, lowest point in my life. I was finger printed, photographed and alone, thrown in to a holding cell for an hour and spat at and abused by someone in the opposing cell.

All my life spent, dedicated to helping other people and holding a deep love for the human race was wasted. No one was ever going to believe in me again. I wouldn’t have been surprised if my fans turned their backs on me. Why wouldn’t they?

I thought to Diane and felt immediately like crying, but the tears were dry for now. I remembered the last time I saw her and things took a turn for the worst, but… I never expected… this.

She said she understood but I knew she’d been heartbroken with my disinterest in her request. I offered her my love and support in other ways, but I just couldn’t do what she wanted. It wouldn’t have been right and I never wanted Casey to have to take the backseat.

My thoughts drifted to the little girl who I once held in my arms as she suffered debilitating pain. She’d been crippled with a tumor compressing on her spine but her willpower and fight inspired me to do the same. Her Mom, Diane was newly single with an ex partner a little like my brother – perhaps that’s why I had such a soft spot for Mercedes.

I helped Diane out financially as soon as a nurse had filled me in on the situation. If there was no money, there was certainly no more treatment for the little girl. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I just kept walking.

I breathed a deep sigh.

I looked down at my fingertips in the dim light. They still had ink stains on them. I launched myself up, feeling my head spin a little from the lack of food or fluids and probably the throbbing of my temples. I made my way to the bathroom and scrubbed and scrubbed them until only very slight traces of ink remained.

I kept replaying the day over and over in my head. If someone had of told me that aliens had taken over, I would have believed that over Greg Pattoway telling me that I had been accused by Diane of molestation. The very idea nauseated me.

Casey. Not Casey… Poor, sweet, beautiful Casey; my little girl, my everything. She was the child that if anything happened to Diane, I would have taken her on as my own, no questions asked. The love I had for her was unconditional.

The thought of me even…

Behind me, I grabbed a hold of the porcelain bowl and began vomiting again. It seemed to be a natural reaction that had taken place over various times during the evening. Including when I was in the holding cell.

The smell of the cell was enough to send me over the edge. I couldn’t stop vomiting. With that thought was the reminder that I still hadn’t showered since arriving home. I sat back on the cold tiles and wiped my mouth.

I sat staring for a few moments until finally I found the energy to get up and peel my clothes off to have a shower.

**

A doctor arrived late that night to make sure that I was okay. I protested and tried locking myself in the bathroom and acting incredibly neurotic but there was a part of me that didn’t care.

After a full forty minutes of my mother coaxing, she gave up. Or, at least I thought. About fifteen minutes later, I heard my father’s voice outside the door.

“Michael, unlock that door, so help me if I have to take this thing from the damn hinges,” he threatened in his only-know-how tough-love kind of way. I knew he meant business so I got up and unlocked the door.

He didn’t say insult me or tell me I was being stupid. He was suspiciously silent on that front. He watched me climb back in to bed where I had dwelled for the days since arriving home.

The media had reported that I’d gone missing. Idiots. I hadn’t even tried to escape them.

“Michael, I know you are angry and hurt, but we’re all worried about you. Please see this doctor, do it for your mother if you won’t do it for yourself.” 

I was surprised that he didn’t demand anything from me. It made me feel a little bit warmer.

“Okay,” I agreed simply.

He disappeared and reappeared a moment later with my mother and the doctor. He seemed to effectively take charge and my mother seemed okay with that.

“Michael won’t eat. He has been having anxiety attacks since he arrived home and he’s been vomiting all night,” he explained. 

The doctor looked at me and tried to remain professional, but I knew she was a little excited to be treating me which only managed to make me feel more ashamed.

I was just a shell of a celebrity, not someone that should have been proud of his successes. All that had been cast aside and overshadowed by the raging monster that I was currently being painted as.

I felt like a child. I was being treated like one because obviously no one trusted me to take care of myself. 

Dad left us to it to tend to a phone call, probably from the lawyer saying they were going to lock me in jail and throw away the key, I thought cynically. 

Mom turned the light on. My eyes were super sensitive to it, given how much crying I’d been doing. I brought my hands up immediately to cover them, wincing in pain.

“Mr. Jackson, I’m Dr Braithwaite, but you can call me Lidia,” she greeted me, slowly leaning over to pull my hands away from my eyes. Her hands were soft and warm unlike most Doctor’s hands.

I looked at my Mom who looked on with great concern for me. She had been grimacing all day long and becoming emotional from time-to-time. I think she was trying to hold it in.

“I just want to take your pulse,” she murmured quietly. She held her thumb and pointer to either side of my wrist and looked at her watch, concentrating. She seemed to give up after a moment and leaned over me, taking a seat on my bed.

“Sorry, can I just check from here…” she pointed to her neck and I knew she was careful not to invade my personal space. I complied with whatever she asked. 

“Okay,” I spoke softly, lifting my chin to allow her some space to check my pulse from the other spot. A few moments later she lifted her two fingers away from the spot at my throat.

“You’ve got a quick pulse, Mr. Jackson. From what I understand, you’re very anxious. When was the last time you ate today?” 

I thought for a moment and was about to answer but my mother beat me to it. “I watched Michael eat some rice and vegetables for lunch, but barely three mouthfuls.” 

“That’s not enough,” she shook her head, “And what did you have to drink?” she asked, her green eyes staring in to mine without flinching and without making me feel like she was judging me. It was slightly comforting.

“I don’t remember…” I whispered. 

“Okay. I want you to drink a glass of juice before you go to bed tonight and you’ll need to eat something. I don’t really care what it is, but it has to be something – it could be a bowl of yoghurt or ice cream, whatever – so long as you are putting something in your stomach.” 

I just nodded. 

“Secondly, how are you sleeping?”

I sighed and thought about how I’d been wide awake all night the night before. I slept on and off for no more than 15 minutes at a time. Each time I was awoken in terror from my nightmares.

Only, it was reality.

“I’m not…” I told her honestly. 

“I can imagine you must be feeling a lot of stress fight now. I don’t think you’re physically unwell in terms of a flu or something, but I am sure that everything that is happening on a physical scale is a side effect of anxiety and stress,” she explained. I felt her hand on top of mine and honestly? It felt comforting to know that there was someone who didn’t think I was a predator.

“What can we do to help him?” mother asked in her quiet, sad voice.

Lidia looked up at my mother and gave her an equally comforting smile, “Mrs. Jackson, I think you and your husband are doing a fine job, Michael is in good hands with you both, but perhaps it might be worth prescribing some sedatives for help with sleep and anxiety.” 

I had been adverse to any kind of sedative or mood changing drugs in the past, but whatever would help me to sleep was going to be a welcome change from the darkness and doom that took up residence in my mind whenever I closed my eyes.

“Thank you, Dr Lidia,” I said gratefully. 

She patted my hand and smiled at me, “if it helps, Mr. Jackson, I believe in you and I think most people do, that’s why we have to keep you well to make sure that you’re strong enough to get through this.” 

A lump formed in my throat.

So far two employees had walked on me, someone that I loved and adored had somehow and for some reason turned their back on me completely in the most abhorrent way and an estranged family member had appeared on a tabloid news show telling people she suspected my guilt for a long time.

This was actually the first time that a person besides my direct family had expressed their belief in my innocence.

“Thank you so much,” I choked out, my eyes beginning to water again. I blinked them back immediately. Seemed to be the vicious cycle.

She got up and said goodbye to me and both she and my Mom left me to it.

**

I jammed my hands in to the pockets of the grey hoodie that I wore and pulled the hood over my head. It was pitch black dark in the house as I crammed my feet in to some house slippers and headed downstairs, trying to keep quiet.

I let myself back out in the grounds which were so silent that I could have heard a pin drop. It was about 11:30pm which wasn’t really that late, but my parents were already asleep and everything usually went quiet at home around 10pm.

I paced the grounds for a little while, ignoring the breeze that chilled my bones. I blew in to my hands to keep them warm wishing that I’d brought some gloves out.

I heard a couple of voices as I neared closer to the gates that gave access to our family property. I stayed in the shadows as I made my way closer. I didn’t feel scared, it wasn’t unusual for fans to hang around. Mom had told me earlier that some fans had been huddled outside with flowers and gifts.

“Why don’t we just go back to the hotel?” I heard a voice ask.

“I don’t want to go anywhere, I wanna stay,” the voice replied a little impatiently. 

“Jeez, he’s not gonna come out and say hi you know, I’m tired and I’m freezing my ass off out here. He’s probably inside in his asleep in the warm – you know, where we should be!”

I heard a deep sigh. I thought I heard a tearful voice but I couldn’t be certain, “How on earth do you think he would be sleeping while all of this is happening? Just go back to the hotel, I don’t care, I don’t expect him to come waltzing out to say hello, I’m here in solidarity. Someone’s gotta be, you don’t see anyone else here do you?” 

“No! Because they’re all in bed asleep!” the other girl exclaimed with a disbelieving laugh in her tone.

“Beth, just go back to the hotel… take the car, come get me in the morning, I’ll stay here all night, I don’t even care.”

“You’re an idiot…”

I instantly realized who the voice belonged to. My two fans who I’d seen last back in Mexico City.

I felt almost chuffed that Malania was so staunchly supportive. I knew I’d taken a shine to her for a reason. She was so loyal and kind-hearted. I didn’t hear much talking, save for a car driving off.

I was surprised that Beth had actually abandoned her. Had my nerves not been shot to pieces I would have confronted them and asked her to please get some rest. I couldn’t though, the selfishness in me wanted someone to stand on my side through the wind and the rain and suffer this agony with me.

I waited for a few moments and gained my composure.

I headed to the security cottage nearest to the gate and knocked quietly. My family’s guard, Alfred opened the door and seemed extremely surprised to see me. 

“Hi Mr. Jackson,” he greeted me. I summoned up a smile and greeted him back. The burly black man stood up, expecting that I was about to ask something of him.

“I just want to open the gate for a moment, is that okay?” 

“Mr Jackson there’s some fans outside there, I don’t think it’s a good idea. If you want to go somewhere, I can organize that for you.” 

I shook my head, “There’s just one out there, I would like to speak with her. Could you open the gate so I can go outside for a moment?” I asked again. 

“Okay. Are you sure? I could invite her inside instead?” 

“I’m sure. I know who she is. Thanks.” He pressed a button and I heard the squeak of the large, wrought iron gates opening up. 

I left Alfred to it and gingerly made my way outside the compound. I was aware I looked like nobody owned me with my black pajama pants and gym hoodie. I spotted Malania sitting on a brick fence just beside the intercom. 

“Malania?” I called. I saw her scramble to her feet, wiping her eyes profusely as if she’d just be caught out.

“Michael? Is that you?” 

“Yes, its me. Are you alright out there?” it was totally pitch black save for the glow of the tiny little button on the intercom. “Alfred can you hit the lights?” I called out to the security guard. 

A few moments later the lights around the gates flickered on. That was better, I could see her petite form hidden in the light. I felt bad when I saw she was in a pair of black jeans and a form-fitting knit-sweater. She must have been freezing. 

“I’m alright. Are you?” she wondered, coming to stand close to me, carefully keeping her distance from where I was standing just on the inside of the compound.

“Yes, I think so, right now I am,” I told her in an honest way. I managed to hold off my emotions for the moment. I felt touched that she was happy to freeze for me.

“Beth just left, she was sure you’d never come out here,” she informed me. 

“It was nice of you to stay and support me,” I murmured. The whole energy surrounding us felt a little odd and awkward. It was different when I had a heap of fans around or when there was security around.

“Of course, Michael, I have been here all night, ever since you got back. I didn’t go home because I didn’t want you to be alone.” 

“Why don’t you come out of the cold. I’ll get you something warm, you must be freezing,” I suggested. I knew it was the right thing to do. I knew if my Mom caught sight of her she would have offered her a jacket or something to keep herself warm. 

“No, I’m okay, really Michael. I don’t want to bother you, you have enough going on.” 

I sighed. This girl was as sweet as they came. “Please, I can’t leave you out here in good conscience,” I managed a smile at her. She returned it. 

“I’m glad to see you’re okay, they reported on the news that you collapsed, we were so worried.” 

I looked her over in her black and white striped knit and felt a great affection for the fan who turned up to so many of my shows who never once overstepped the boundaries and whom always, always respected my personal space.

“I’m okay.” I repeated even though the words were hard to push from my mouth, “come on, follow me…” 

She came within the confines of the compound. I took her down to the guest cottage further back on the property. It was a little bit awkward at first but I found the key above the doorway and unlocked the front door. Janet had lived in this guesthouse until very recently. It was pretty empty save for a guest bed and some amenities.

“Come on in…” I waved her inside, switching on the lights and closing the door. I turned the heater on so that she could warm up and made a beeline for the cupboard where I knew there would be spare pillows and blankets. I retrieved a blanket unfolded it twice so that it was a large square. I could feel Malania’s eyes following me around as I busied myself trying to ignore the discomfort.

“Please, take a seat…” I gestured to the couch that sat before a small box-back television that I was sure only worked in black and white. She didn’t say a word. I draped the blanket over her shoulders and gave her a smile. “Is that better?” 

“Thank you so much, you are too kind.” 

“Well, it’s the least I can do—“ I paused, “if I’m going to be truthful, I heard the conversation between you and your friend.” I hated that I never remembered her friend’s name, and I was pretty sure she had said it just moments earlier.

“Oh. She’s just tired and grouchy, but… she’s as big a fan as I am.” Malania tossed her brown hair over her shoulders. She looked a bit sheepish. 

“I know but… it meant a lot to me, what you said… I guess this is my way of showing that I appreciate it. Granted, I haven’t left the house, turned the TV on or really seen anyone since I’ve arrived home, but besides something the doctor said earlier, you’re the only person who’s supported me without question.” 

She seemed surprised by my own admission that seemed to be flying out of my mouth.

“I know a lot of people are supporting you right now, Michael, honestly.” 

“But you’re here and they’re not,” I insisted, “so thanks.” I was about to sit down beside her but I had another idea. I went to the intercom phone by the doorway. I dialed the chef’s quarters. 

A few moments later, the phone picked up. “Hello?” the voice seemed surprised to have a phone call so late. 

“Hi its Michael,” I greeted her, “I’m in the guest cottage with…” what was I supposed to say? I was in the cottage with a fan? I didn’t want to sound even more of a sleaze, nor did I want to insult the girl that was in my company, “with a friend, if its not too much trouble, could I trouble you for a hot cocoa?” 

“Sure Michael, absolutely, will that be all?” I smiled at Malania who I noticed was staring at me shamelessly with a little, grateful smile that gave me a nice feeling. It was a far cry for the way I felt earlier.

“Um… make that two, perhaps some sandwiches, surprise us.” 

“Okay I’ll bring it down shortly.” 

“Thank you so much, Carla.” I hung up the phone and finally took a seat beside the fan.

I could feel the room getting much warmer. I was happy about that. My hands had been absolutely freezing. “So where are you from? I see you guys all over the place.” 

“I’m from Fountain Valley, do you know where that is?” she wondered. 

“Somewhere down near Orange County, right?” It wasn’t that far away, less than two hours by car. 

She nodded, “Yeah.” 

“Do you go to school or … how old are you actually?” I was curious. I knew she had to be over 18.

“I’m 22. I got done with school just last yr and I worked and worked for the three years I went to college and I’m taking the year off to figure out what to do now.” 

I smiled at her, I liked those types of conversations, the ones that didn’t revolve around me. I liked the type of conversations where I felt like the interviewer who would get to ask all the questions. It gave me a glimpse in to the regularities of everyone else’s lives.

 I felt myself relax a little bit, “What did you study?”

She finally chuckled, “I don’t want to say, its kinda lame.” I liked her laugh, it felt infectious. Even though I was feeling rotten through and through, I was still able to giggle.

“I bet not,” I insisted, “come on, it can’t be that bad.” 

“I studied art. Nothing more ridiculous than an art degree,” she joked. 

I made a face, “that’s not even true, I love art. I’d study art.” 

“Yeah, but you’re an established musician. Art would be a fallback career for you, I should have listened to my parents.” 

I did laugh a little wryly. “If you love art, you’ll find a way to make it your life.” 

“What do your folks make of you running around after Michael Jackson?” Her eyes sparkled a little bit as I focused in on them. They were beautiful, they didn’t shy away from mine and they didn’t make me feel as though she were intruding in to my soul.

She gave a shrug, “My Dad is Japanese, so they are probably more relieved that I’m not working as a starving artist,” she joked. I laughed with her and peeled my eyes away from hers. It felt good, my first laugh in days. “No but really, my parents are good people. They just want me to have fun while I’m young and figure things out in my own time.”

“What do you think they’d prefer you to be?” I asked curiously as my eyes studied her perfectly structured face. She had a soft, defined jaw and the most perfect almond-shaped eyes and a cute little nose.

“Duh, I told you he’s Asian, I’d have to a medical student or an accountant or something,” she laughed. I giggled at her own racial profiling. 

A knock at the door interrupted us. I got up to open it and found the chef holding a wooden tray with a plate of sandwiches and two hot chocolates. 

“Thank you so much. I appreciate it so much, I won’t bother you again tonight, I promise.” 

“You’re welcome Mr. Jackson,” she smiled and took off back to the house. 

I placed the tray down carefully. I was going to try to drink and eat something.

“How have you been?” she asked me in a voice that allowed me to know that she was reluctant to ask, “did you really faint today?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t faint. I’m not going to lie, I didn’t have an amazing day, but… I didn’t faint. I am just happy to have some company.” 

“You mean, your family?” 

“No.” I said, shaking my head, “I mean you…”

Chapter 5 by SkyWriter

 

Chapter Five: I’ll Reach Out My Hand To You…

I really wasn’t sure what to think. I was conflicted. There was a part of me that was upset that Beth had left and we couldn’t experience this encounter with Michael together, but then a part of me knew that this probably wouldn’t have occurred, had Michael not overheard her leave me in the middle of nowhere.

I was certainly miffed about that.

When we found out that Michael had been accused, Beth had made continuous bad-taste jokes, that, for the most part said more about her dark humor and ways of dealing with the heartbreak we felt for him and also for us, but it got to me. The jokes continued all day long. I knew she was upset and joking at his expense was sometimes her way of getting through without too much emotion, but… it was wearing thin. Perhaps we spent far too long together on tour…

I knew once she found out Michael and I were spending time together, alone, without security or any knowledge from anyone else, that she would lose it.

We talked quietly at first. I was freaking out interiorly, but I had met Michael so many times over the past year and some that I had learned to keep my cool and just treat him like a regular person. Or at least try – because the fact of the matter was that he wasn’t a regular guy. Even when Michael tried to act like everyone else, he stood out. He was so good. I couldn’t remember a time where he was rude to us or a time where he ignored us for sleep or something that he needed more than to see us.

The first time I’d met him, he gave me a warm hug and told me he loved me without me even saying anything. I couldn’t, I’d been rendered completely speechless. I just accepted the hug, smiled at him and murmured a thank you and left.

Beth usually did most of the talking. Sometimes she prattled on so much that it embarrassed me, but Michael didn’t mind. I was aware he liked me better. Beth knew it too, she constantly berated me about it as if it were something I had control over.

When Beth spoke he usually looked me over, catching my eye or smiling at me as if expecting me to come out with something. I never said much, I didn’t have a lot to say really. I liked to tell him when he did a great show or I liked to comment on the show’s production because those types of things interested me and I knew the things that Beth talked about didn’t really interest him that much. She basically gushed her entire way through conversation. It consisted of how much she loved him, how amazing he was, how she loved his hair, his outfits and so forth, never really commenting on his music or his shows.

I know he appreciated honest feedback. Sometimes he would ask me how such thing sounded from the audience and thanked me endlessly for being honest. At one point, he told me to stop being nice and to just be truthful.

Beth nearly cried because of how embarrassing it was when I told him the sound was a bit off during the first half of the show. She saw it as me insulting Michael, rather than me just doing what he asked of me.

I was by no means a music guru, but I had a good ear for sound.

“How come when you guys come to see me, you never say much?” Michael asked, interrupting my internal conflict about Beth.

I couldn’t really believe I was sitting with him on a couch no less, in a comfortable, relaxed environment. We had no constraints on time and no pretenses about us. He was stripped back to being Michael, the regular guy that he wanted to be but could never be.

He wore his hair pulled back, though his curls pretty much had a mind of their own. He wore a grey hoodie and a pair of red and blue striped pajama pants and some slippers. I had almost chuckled at his attire when I’d seen him in the light.

I shrugged, “Beth has more to say than me.” 

He gave me a warm smile which told me that he didn’t believe me, and that he picked up on my slight dig at my friend. It wasn’t really like that though, I loved Beth to bits and it was true, she definitely had more to say.

“No, really…,” he insisted. 

“I prefer to listen and observe. I also don’t want to sound like a colossal idiot by giving you compliments every five seconds, I’m sure that after awhile it sounds trite,” I replied honestly.

“Hey, I like compliments every five seconds,” he joked with a relaxed chuckle, “this ego,” he pointed at his face, “he needs it.”

I laughed too. Laughing with Michael Jackson, who would have ever thought?

“No, but… sometimes I find it very hard to say nice things because compliments should be totally heartfelt and not just lip service, so I guess I want it to mean something when it comes from me.”

I caught him gazing at me and then he grinned, “that’s beautiful, what a great way to put it.” I held my breath for a moment. It was all I could do from combusting in a pool of gelatinous goo, or at least that’s how it felt with his eyes burning in to mine.

I averted mine first.

I was always surprised by his interest in me over Beth. She was the prototype; the typical California girl; blonde hair, green eyes, a subtle dusting of freckles across her perfectly symmetrical face—I figured Michael would be really in to her.

“Thanks,” I replied a bit awkwardly. The whole situation was surreal. I was sitting in a guest room with a Jackson family owned blanket draped over my shoulders and drinking hot cocoa with Michael.

Well, I was drinking, he wasn’t. He kept prompting me to drink so that I would get warm, but I noticed he wasn’t touching his. He tried to get me to eat too, but I was too shy. I would have probably spilled or something. He had picked up a sandwich and nibbled at it before putting it back down. Given what had happened earlier, I wasn’t surprised that he had no appetite.

“I bet its nice to be at home with your family…” I remarked. He gave a weary smile that made me feel like it was a bit of a sore subject.

“Yeah, but it would have been nicer under different circumstances.” 

“Its not fair… You don’t deserve this.” I knew my words were futile, but I needed to say it. 

“Thank you…” he stared off for a moment, his eyes fixed on the carpet. I was certain I saw a clear film covering his eyes but it was soon blinked away along with his trance.

“Can I ask, do you know the person who has accused you?” 

His eyes got a little darker and he nodded. “What do you think?” he wondered. At first I thought he was being sarcastic, as if it were a dumb question to assume that he might not even know the accuser, but I figured out quickly that he was genuinely asking what I thought about the accusation.

“I think its unfair. If you know the person then its even worse. Its… the kind of betrayal that you could never really explain…” 

“Is there any part of you that would believe that I was capable?” he asked, suddenly his attitude changing, almost as if he was getting mad.

At me? Maybe.

“No.” I said stoically, daring to glance at him. His eyes were wide, awaiting me to elaborate. I shifted a little uncomfortably, suddenly feeling my face feel flushed with heat. “If there was any part of me that believed that you were a paedophile, I wouldn’t have been sitting out in the freezing cold in the middle of a street which has been prone to mountain lions and such…” I told him frankly. “If I had an inkling of a doubt in your innocence, you’d have disgusted me the other night in Mexico City. I believe in you one hundred and fifty percent.”

“I don’t know if my friend who has accused me really believes in her accusation or if she’s been motivated to do it for other reasons. Its so confusing.” 

I felt awful for him. He had no one. I thought it spoke volumes that Hayvenhurst was dead. No one was with him, he had been walking the grounds alone, not a friend in the world. His brothers and sisters weren’t anywhere to be found, his high-profiled celebrity friends weren’t around. His security, personal assistants and all the hangers-on that were always a hurdle for Beth and I to get through – and yet, there was not one trace of them anywhere.

“Was it a good friend?” I asked, hoping that the person accusing him was a distant friend.

“The best…” he replied with a slow nod, getting taken away by his own thoughts again, “well, I thought,” he added. 

He drew in a deep breath and turned back to me as if he had just erased the former conversation. “Anyway, are you feeling warmer?” 

I nodded, “thank you, this was very kind of you. I can go back out and wait for Beth, leave you to rest, I’m sure you need it.” I didn’t want to be so rude but his eyes were decorated with dark circles around them.

“It makes no difference, I can’t sleep anyway,” he told me with a shrug, “its nice to have someone to talk to.”

I realized in that moment how incredibly lonely he must have been to want to sit and chat to a fan. Me, much less. I didn’t have low self-esteem or anything, but I was no match for some other glam celebrity friend he could have called up.

Though, maybe all that was just for show, maybe it was true that in show business, friends were like a rose amongst thorns.

“Okay.” it all began to feel a little bit awkward. I wanted to be his friend, as a fan that was the very least that we could ever expect, but this was different. I didn’t expect that becoming someone who would loan him an ear would happen this way, or so easily.

At first when he approached, despite my sadness for the situation he was in, I could only feel numb with excitement, but my heart was sinking for him. I realized as each moment passed how hurt he was, how sad he was and how much he needed someone.

And yet he had no one.

I was almost at the right place at the right time. I wasn’t special. If I wasn’t there, it would have been another fan. I started to feel unremarkable and if I was going to be honest, a little short-changed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked noticing the way I had shifted in moods and probably in body language too.

“I just feel a bit like I’m intruding. I was sitting outside tonight because I was heartbroken for you. I feel awful for everything you’re going through and because I can’t really face my family or friends at home. I know how I feel is about 1/100th of what you must be feeling, so I feel like me being here is … silly. I know you felt bad cos I was cold because you are always putting people before yourself, and that’s wonderful, but I’m a fan and I chose to be out in the cold… You don’t have to be responsible for me.” 

He seemed almost hurt and I immediately regretted everything that came out of my mouth. Was I being an ingrate? Maybe, but I also didn’t want to fool myself in to thinking that I was suddenly going to become his best friend.

“Firstly,” he began, his softly spoken voice getting a bit stronger, “thank you for saying all that. I know you’re a fan, but my fans are like family to me, I probably consider you guys more important than my friends. I invited you to come inside because you were left all alone by someone you considered a friend in the freezing cold – which to be truthful, is something like what’s happened to me,” he explained brazenly. That clear film of water covered my eyes this time.

When Beth had left me, I had almost began to sob, but his voice in the dark had saved me from breaking down. Ihad been hurt by Beth. I felt betrayed that her level of upset over the allegations weren’t measuring up to mine. I felt as though she had been getting frustrated with my sadness. Perhaps that wasn’t fair, but it had been a rough few days for me, so I could only imagine how it was for him.

“Maybe it’s unkind of me to say, but I don’t think a real friend should have turned her back on you like that. The day after the allegations broke when we were in Mexico, my manager walked out on me, and really, I’ve heard from no one besides my Mom and Dad.” He looked at me with those beautiful big chocolate puppy eyes that looked wounded through to his soul. They cut through me, through my wall that I had permanently built around me and made my eyes well with tears.

You’ve been with me for years now. I could probably recall the first time I met you and I don’t think anyone besides my fans would understand how this truly feels.”

I wiped my eyes, trying to be discreet. I didn’t know how it would feel to be him, but I knew how my heart felt. I knew how it felt to have anxiety over the accusations against him. When I heard the news, my heart felt like it had fallen out of my body, my hands were tingling and I felt shock. After the shock subsided, I cried and cried and cried. Then I called my parents, they loved Michael and loved the joy that he brought me, so they did what they knew so well, they prayed for him.

I wasn’t much of a praying girl, but I trusted my parent’s trust in the Lord and prayed too.

Beth was dismissive and told me that everything would be fine. When we saw Michael in Mexico the very same night, he allayed our fears, but in hindsight, I was pretty sure it was because he really had no idea at that point exactly what was happening to him.

He smiled through his own touching words and through my emotions, “You’re not one for talking feelings, are you?” he wondered almost as if he were amused.

“I guess its been an overwhelming day.” I replied, “I’m sorry for getting emotional.”

“Don’t apologise. There’s nothing shameful about having feelings.”

“Why don’t you stay here tonight in the guest house, okay?” I was a little bit shocked at his request, “in the morning I’ll come and get you and we can organize for you to get back to your hotel.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Malania, I’m sure… do you think I’d be able to forgive myself if a mountain lion ate my number one fan?”

I almost shivered when he said my name, instead I chuckled. He did too. It was a nice break from all the tension. He got up, placing the hot cocoa he had been avoiding back on the tray.

He waited for me to follow him as he showed me around the guest cottage. It looked like a tiny Spanish villa. He showed me to the bedroom and pointed to a phone, “if you need something, there’s an extension to call. Our security Alfred helps with assistance during the night and Carla is our chef in case you want to eat.” 

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” 

Michael rifled around a couple of drawers in the cupboard by the bed until he found a bit of paper and a pen. He wrote down the extensions carefully and then wrote a third number. “This one, this is the extension to my area of the house, feel free to dial that number if you would like to talk.” 

“Thank you… for all of this,” I said, shedding the warm blanket that I had still wrapped around me. “you’re even kinder than I thought, if that’s even possible.”

He just smiled.

“Being around someone who appreciates me…even likes me, is reward enough. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

His words were heartbreaking. I didn’t really know what to say. Without waiting for me to respond he continued, “have a good sleep, goodnight Malania.” 

“Goodnight, Michael. I hope you can sleep too.” He said nothing in reply and initiated a hug. I was surprised by it, but not put off. His body was warm and strong. His arms encircled their way around my shoulders, bringing me close against him. I rested my cheek upon his collarbone and closed my eyes. I felt his embrace tightening and I knew that my arms around his trim waist were also holding on just as firmly.

He was so comforting. I had hugged Michael many times over the years, but this was so different. This was more personal and more meaningful. He needed someone who understood his pain, and in that moment, that person was me.

The hug lingered for a few moments, but not for so long that it became a little awkward.

He let go of me, but I felt it was somewhat reluctant. He waved at me before letting himself out.

I looked around the room. It was quite sparse, but the bed was large and looked comfortable. There was an exposed brick wall behind the bed and a chest of drawers on either side of the oak bed frames. There was a large box-back television with a remote control by the bed.

Turning the TV on had been giving me anxiety attacks over the few days, so I didn’t bother turning it on. I hadn’t been able to sleep much and I was pretty sure Michael hadn’t been either. Instead, I took off my sweater and loosened my jeans. I turned off the lights and snuggled deep within the warm, weighted blankets. My head sank right down in to the pillow and I closed my eyes, hoping and wishing that Michael was going to sleep well.

I lay in the dark and stared at the ceiling reflecting upon my hour with Michael. He was smiles and cheer at some points, but I knew it was more for my benefit. I knew he was trying to be strong. Despite the weight of the world upon his shoulders, I was delighted to find that none of it had changed his kind spirit.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

It was very hard to sleep when I was so wired. Surprisingly though, I drifted off as I thought of our shared, warm embrace.

 

Right before I fell asleep, I made the executive decision not to share any of what had happened with Beth.

Chapter 6 by SkyWriter

 

Chapter Six: I gave her promises and secrets so untold

I lifted the sweetheart out of her bed very, very gently so that I didn’t disturb the sutures. I was so scared that of moving her the wrong way or causing her pain that I found that I was holding my breath.

I sank slowly down in to the large, leather recliner chair and glanced up at Diane. She smiled, encouragingly. I grimaced as I stroked the sleeping child’s ivory cheeks. It was a little somber but I was so glad that she was improving in condition. Diane helped me reposition the tubes and the cords so as they wouldn’t be in the way.

“Don’t worry, Michael, she isn’t in as much pain as you think. Thank you, thank you so much for this,” she spoke with so much gratitude in her tone.

“Please don’t thank me…” I looked over the sleeping angel in my arms and thought about all the wear and tear her body had been through already with three years of life under her belt. It wasn’t fair.

Diane pulled up a chair beside Casey and I, the metal of the chair legs scraped loudly against the linoleum floor causing the little girl to stir ever so slightly.

“You are such a princess…” I murmured, stroking her blond curls.

Diane sat down as well. She seemed relieved. All the worries and tension that had been evident on her face for the weeks leading up to Casey’s surgery had all but dispersed.

It was going to be okay.

Well, at least there was a good prognosis and that was the main thing.

I felt Diane’s arm link around mine. She rested her head upon my shoulder. We had grown so close in just six short months. She wasn’t like other women who tried so hard to pursue a love affair with me, she just wanted to be my friend and I was cool with that, because true friendships were so hard to come by in my line of work.

Her hair smelled fruity and sweet and it made me feel a bit funny – almost like we were our own little family unit. We were all in this together, this nightmare was what it was, but I was the missing piece that could help bring this family to life again.

“Casey will never forget you for this, neither will I…” 

“You’re saying that like after she recovers you’re never going to see me again,” I remarked turning my head to smile at the brunette beside me. She didn’t look much like her daughter, but every now and then they’d get the same expression or the same intonation in their voices.

“Well that’s silly,” Diane chuckled softly, “you’re a part of our lives forever now, what you’ve done…” she shook her head, “its still surreal. You gave life back to her… and she loves you so much, Michael.” 

“I love her too,” I said honestly. I had never loved a child more, if I’d fathered her myself, I didn’t think I could love her more.

I felt Diane’s lips press upon my temple which warmed me throughout my body. I felt important and needed, something that had been missing from my life for far too long.

“I feel so relieved, I’ll bet you do too,” I whispered. 

Diane nodded, tucking a curtain of her brown hair behind her ears. With our talking, Casey began to stir again and slowly wriggled in my arms before opening her eyes. 

She looked a little confused at first, looking from me back to her mother and then back to me. She began to cry. I guessed it was from pain, but really it was probably that she didn’t feel the best with the anesthetic beginning to wear off from her big surgery.

I wiped her tears with my thumbs. “Aww my precious…” I murmured quietly, “I know you feel yucky, don’t you?” I asked rhetorically, running my fingers through her soft curls, “Mommy is here,” I told her with a little smile even though my heart sank each time I saw her cry, “we can’t wait for you to start feeling better…”

It wouldn’t be for awhile. There was another course of chemotherapy that we had to get her through. Six rounds over a period of five months and then the radiation would begin immediately after. I drew in a deep breath and sighed. Nope, not out of the woodworks yet, but getting there.

Casey had woken up a few times since her surgery. The nurses suggested that she would be starting to sober up and that she would be a little sore and emotional for a few days. I supposed I would have been too if someone had just cut me open and removed two massive tumors from both my kidneys.

“Baby, how are you feeling?” Diane asked her, “you feeling okay?”

She didn’t respond to us, her eyes continued to dart around the room focusing on the Mr Men patterned hospital curtain that was pulled around her bed so that no passers-by could see that I was visiting. It had been a bit of a process to see Casey unnoticed, but I didn’t let it stop me.

She lifted her arm sluggishly and pointed at the curtain. The tears in her eyes were still welling but not falling anymore. 

“Its Mr Men isn’t it, honey?” I asked her in a hushed, awed tone. “we’ve read the Mr Men books together before, haven’t we?” My questions were clearly rhetorical, though she slowly nodded.

“Its Mr. Quiet and Mr. Mean,” I went through the characters from top to bottom verbalizing for her the things that she wasn’t quite feeling up to, “and Mr. Silly, Mr. Chatterbox—that Mr Men is like you, isn’t he?” I felt Diane’s giggle reverberating against my arm where she was still resting, “Mr. Daydream and Mr. Rush, look Mr. Perfect – now he’s a bit like your Mommy…” I smiled, feeling Diane nudge me with a laugh,

“Mr Worry,” Diane interrupted, “that’s you, Michael…” 

“I’m not worried, I got two awesome girls in my arms,” I replied, turning my head to return Diane’s earlier kiss.

Was there romance there? Sometimes I felt like there was, but my great affection for her transcended romantic love. I don’t really know why, but she just felt right to be around. She and I loved the same things, we listened to the same music, we held the same beliefs and we both loved affection and we shared a deep love for Casey.

I was spending a lot of time with Diane and Casey and everyone assumed we were a hot item, but it just wasn’t like that. I didn’t really know why, she was attractive, smart and extremely sweet, but I felt like we treasured our friendship more. Perhaps she wasn’t attracted to me, I wouldn’t have been surprised, but either way, despite sharing a soft kiss of affection on cheeks, foreheads and hands, it never went further.

Maybe Casey was her number one priority and focus, especially given how sick she had been and that thinking of me as a romantic partner would have taken attention away from her daughter.

That probably made the most sense.

Interrupting my thoughts was Casey’s tiny hand touching my cheek. I looked down at her and smiled. She had large blue eyes which were a little doe-y from the medication she was dosed on. Diane and I joked every now and then and called them her cartoon eyes. Whenever she was caught out being naughty, those eyes got a little wider.

I remembered back only around two months earlier when she had begun to get a little sprite back after a round of chemo. She had drawn on a self-portrait on the wall at my place with non-toxic crayon, but do you think that shit would come out? Oh no.

When we busted her, her eyes widened and she tried to quickly shove the crayon behind a doll. It had been hard not to laugh. The three of us had stood in shock at her ‘art’, before I finally burst out laughing which was obviously the wrong thing to do. It was as though her eyes were saucers that might take flight and carry the rest of her body with it.

 

“Michael!” Diane scolded me for laughing, “its not funny! Casey, you’re in big trouble!” she turned to scold her child, “you know better than this!”

“Its okay, we can just paint over it, its no drama.” 

“Don’t.” Diane glared at me, for once showing a little bit of annoyance with me, “its not the point.”

I butted out and let her discipline her daughter.

**

There was a buzz on the phone by my bed that launched me out of bed. I had been so deeply swimming in the misery of the memory that was my friend Diane Hargrove.

I plucked up the phone suddenly remembering the girl that I had left in the guest cottage back a few hours ago. “Hello?” I greeted the voice on the other hand. It was a hoarse whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again.

“Hi, Mr. Jackson, its Alfred.” 

“Hi Alfred, what’s up?” I wondered, hoping I hadn’t had a bad judgment of Malania, that she hadn’t gone and done something crazy.

“I called for extra security, but I wanted you to know that media have arrived. I think they know you are here judging by how fast they are all arriving.” 

“Okay, please be extra vigilant today.” I told him. 

“No problem Mr. Jackson. We will have security walking the perimeter all day to make sure no one gets in unless you’ve authorized them.” 

“Thank you Alfred.” 

“Sorry for waking you.” 

I said it was fine – as if I’d actually been sleeping. What a joke. I put down the phone and lay back down. I glanced at the tablet on my nightstand. I needed to take it but I thought of a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t.

I breathed in a deep breath and stared back up at the ceiling thinking about what could have sparked such a change in Diane that would make her do something so terrible. Was it revenge? The two times that I had upset her in the years we’d been friends did not warrant such a mean-spirited attack on me.

I thought back to her brown hair sprawled out over the pillow. She lay beside me with a small smile. “You know, I do love you…” she said almost as if she thought I didn’t know it, or that it was a secret.

“I know…” I told her, running my fingers through her hair. I stared in to her hazel eyes and smiled, “I love you more.” 

She chuckled, “Don’t fan-talk me, Michael, you know what I mean… I know that you’re not going to marry me, its alright.” 

I shrugged, “Never know…” and I meant it, I didn’t know. Everything was always going to be up in the air until Casey was better and our energy wasn’t almost entirely focused on her wellbeing.

I think if we lost her it would change a lot of things. That was a very real possibility that neither of us talked about.

“Well,” Diane shrugged, “I don’t live for the future, I take each day as it comes; minute by minute…” her lips were pink and I watched them move and expel each word gently and quietly. I knew that she meant more to it.

The future could have consisted without Casey, so each day we had her we knew we were blessed. With each morsel of good news, we celebrated and as her body grew a little stronger, we rejoiced and became more entrenched in our connection.

I loved that there was no expectation from Diane. She never wanted more than I gave. She didn’t care if I was late from time-to-time, or if I had to break an appointment or post-pone a visit because of work. Even if the times that I could see she and Casey were a little inconvenient, she made it work and included me.

“What are you thinking about?” she wondered, “I can always tell when those little cogs are spinning in your head,” she smiled that infectious, beautiful little smile.

“Just thinking about how great you are… how great Casey is…” I sighed of contentment, “how lucky I am to have you both.”

I felt her shift closer. Her eyes closed and those soft pink lips pressed against mine.

Back when Casey had been recovering from her first surgery, I didn’t ever think that Diane and I would fall in to the trap of becoming anything more than affectionate friends, but it made sense that we’d eventually make love.

I was all she had, she was really all I had… We made the deal after the first time that it was not to get complicated and that the second that it became complicated, we’d nip it in the bud.

And, it was so incredibly uncomplicated. The first time we slept together I felt a little heavy with guilt. I was sure she would be upset if I couldn’t commit to a relationship with her, but I was wrong. It was not awkward, it was not complicated and neither of us felt the need to justify what had happened between us.

Perhaps our relationship was a love affair that neither of us needed to label. I wouldn’t have known since my past love affairs involved getting close to a woman, sleeping with her and having her run and tell the world and fizzling out just as quickly as it happened.

 “We’re lucky too,” she said seriously as she pulled her velvety mouth away from mine. I felt the back of her fingertips stroking my peach-fuzz covered cheek. I reached up and grabbed her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. “Before we met you I wished so hard that her father would have a change of heart and want to come back, but in hindsight, I think God found us a better solution because you are a better father to my daughter than some guy who just provided the pregnancy.”

wished I’d fathered her, but that really didn’t matter to me that much.

“She’s my most precious little girl, you know that… I’d adopt her if I could.”

I said it often so I knew Diane knew it was true. I slowly and reluctantly sat up, disrupting the covers to which she shivered and snatched them back over her. 

I laughed leaned over her to kiss her lips again. “Don’t go…” she murmured half-heartedly. She knew I had to.

I cocked my head to the side, “Come on now, never saw you as the clingy type,” I teased. 

She laughed at me and gave my bare chest a playful shove away, “get lost Jackson, I got what I wanted from you, you can leave,” she waved her hand as if gesturing me to get out.

My mouth dropped open in shock. I knew she was kidding around, “I’ll remember that next time I get a lonely phone call,” I joked back, “I mean, I’m not some kind of male gigolo.” 

“Yes you are,” she replied confidently.

We both laughed. I got up and pulled my clothes on. I sat on the edge of the bed and buttoned up my shirt and pulled my socks back on.

“We’ll call you tomorrow morning before we go to see the oncologist, Casey will probably want to see you again, do you think you might have time?” 

I wrinkled my brow at her as if she were crazy, “do I think I’ll have time to see Casey after an oncology visit? Ofcourse I will. I’ll clear my afternoon schedule.”

“Thanks, Michael. I had a nice time tonight.” 

I stood up and done up my last button and went around to her side of the bed. I leaned over and kissed her on the lips with my eyes shut. Our lips lingered for a moment before breaking apart, “me too. Sometimes its good to have time out, right?” I asked, knowing that I was right.

Diane never wanted to leave Casey’s side. I understood, she was scared that if she missed a moment she would regret it if we lost her. She spent every waking hour with her daughter and I knew that had to be emotionally exhausting after awhile.

I had suggested the two of us share some alone time. My mother opted to babysit for the night. I had to be very clear that Diane and I were not a couple because I didn’t want her to get her hopes up like she always did each time I started seeing someone.

She continually asked about my relationship with Diane and continually wanted to know if we had taken any steps in the direction of love. If it were up to my mother, I would have been married to her. She just wanted someone to take care of me so she could relax a little – but Diane needed to just be concerned with her daughter.

I took Diane to the drive-ins and then treated her to dinner at a top-notch restaurant. We were able to sit in a private area without being bothered by anyone which was a giant plus for me.

We went back to my place and picked up Casey, I was just going to drop them home, but I couldn’t resist putting the little girl to bed and reading her a story.

Diane and I went to hang out in her room and it wasn’t crazy awkward, we just lay in bed watching a stupid TV movie and then I announced I should leave. I realized immediately she hadn’t much been watching, but rather her mind was ticking over.

“Whats up?” I had asked, sitting against the bed head.

I watched her eyes fill up and spill over very quickly. “I’m just scared about tomorrow, going out with you and spending some adult time together was wonderful but then I keep having that voice creeping in my ear, telling me my daughter still has cancer, that she’s going to die…”

I shook my head and hugged her and kissed her, “she’s not going to die. We are not going to let her.” I put an arm around my friend and guided her head to my shoulder and kissed her. “I promise. God won’t let her down, you won’t let her down, and me? I will never let her down.”

Diane looked up at me and kissed me and then one thing led to another. I found myself wanting to make her forget her sadness and anguish for her little girl.

Diane didn’t want me to leave, I could tell that. Her eyes followed me around the room. She knew I had to go, we never wanted to risk Casey waking up and finding us together and confusing the situation. I didn’t think it was right at this point to introduce anything else that may have been hard for her to understand.

As if her life wasn’t complicated enough for a three-year-old.

“Don’t worry about tomorrow, I know its kind of trite to say; of course you are going to worry, but… I have faith that it will be good news, Di, okay?” I lifted her chin in the cup of my hand. I smiled and kissed her one last time.

“Okay,” she agreed taking a deep breath and letting it out. She was about to get up to see me out, but I stopped her.

“Don’t get up, sweetheart, I’ll let myself out.”

“Sweet dreams… “ I gave her a wave and headed out down the hallway of the brick veneer home that I had purchased for her and Casey when I realized that the apartment they were staying in wasn’t particularly stable nor was it the kind of area where I felt would be comfortable and suitable for a sick little girl.

I passed Casey’s room and paused for a moment before going back. I stood in the doorway and peered in and smiled as I watched her breathing evenly. She was bald again from the two treatments of chemo post-surgery. Despite missing her adorable little curls, I couldn’t help but to think about how chemo suffers seemed to be more beautiful—perhaps we could more focus on their features like eyes and smile which was sometimes distracted by hair.

“God bless her…” I murmured as I left the house quietly and went home to bed and avoided my mother’s questions.

**

At 7 in the morning I got up. I called through to Malania, making sure she was awake. She was. I could tell that she hadn’t slept much either in the few nights after the accusations broke because we shared the same dark rings around our eyes.

I’d only slept around fifteen minutes in total for the entire night. My eyes felt sandy and my body was beat. The nightmare that consumed me in that short 15 minutes was enough to turn me off sleep for good. I’d awoken in a cold sweat. My body was like led with fatigue and I wasn’t sure for how much longer I could continue functioning.

I tried to put on a brave face after the day before. I wanted to thank my fans, I wanted to show them I was okay even if I really wasn’t. I knew if they thought I was confident then they too, would be confident in me. I needed their belief in me to spur me on. Really, I needed to be a bit braver for my mother too. She was sick with sadness for me but she hid it well. She wanted me to stay healthy and strong by eating and sleeping which was virtually impossible for me, so it was easier to just put a smile on and save my sadness for the time spent alone. And judging by the situation and the lack of friends calling in on me? There was going to be plenty of time for that.

I looked in the mirror and realized I’d already lost a bit of weight. My face looked gaunt, but I just looked away for fear of the self loathe that I could feel slowly filling my heart. It had been a long time since I’d felt that.

I dragged myself in to the shower and got dressed and went downstairs. My Mom stopped me, “Michael?” she smiled, “you’re awake, how are you feeling?” 

“Good Mom…” I replied giving her a weak smile. She came and kissed my cheeks and hugged me. “Are you going to have some breakfast?”

I shook my head. “I’m going for a walk outside,” I explained, deciding that it was easier not to have to tell her about the fan in the guest cottage. I knew she probably wouldn’t understand.

“Sweetheart, Carla asked me if she had to take breakfast to the guest in the cottage.”

I almost laughed, realising that I was always a bit crap at keeping things to myself when it came to my Mom. “Oh, its okay… I’ll organize something. She’s a fan that I know very well,” I explained.

“Did you speak with her last night?”

I nodded, “I had to go for a walk to clear my head. She was the only one out there so I invited her for a chat, she was cold and I couldn’t leave her out there alone.” 

My Mom would have usually asked a hundred questions, but she just let me be.

“I’ll be back soon,” I told her, I felt her hand slowly graze my back as she walked past me and back in to the kitchen.

I made my way to the cottage and knocked.

Malania opened the door. She had obviously been sitting on the couch, watching the TV. I wondered if she’d slept there. The blanket was sitting over the back of it.

“Hi Michael,” she smiled at me. 

“Good morning,” I tried to greet her cheerfully, but I knew she was putting on her smile as much as I was putting on my tone.

“I’ll just get my bag,” she told me as if I had just given her the heave-ho.

“No rush,” I said as I made my way inside watching her from behind as she disappeared through the short hallway to the bedroom to retrieve her small bag of belongs that she had carried with her the night before.

My stomach let out a ferocious growl and I looked down to notice that she had only eaten one sandwich from the night before. The look of the food alone made my stomach churn. I knew she had to have been hungry.

“Malania, would you like to have some breakfast?” I asked kindly, taking a seat on the couch.

“No Michael, I don’t want to be a bother to you,” she replied, emerging from the hall. She had an adorable dimple in her right cheek when she smiled. I’d only just noticed that. It was so cute, I couldn’t help but to think smile back at her.

She had a particularly small frame on her. She was around 5ft and was overall quite slim. She had a little bit of a cute butt, but it didn’t seem out of place. I had seen her grin in front row of my shows and I knew it was a killer, but she’d never grinned at me quite that way face-to-face.

I had guessed back the first few times I’d seen her that she was probably Korean descent, but I knew she had a Japanese background now after our chat the night before. I loved Japanese people, they were some of my favourite people. I wondered what background her Mom was, I guessed some kind of Caucasian.

“You’re not bothering me, it isn’t like I’ve got a lot of things to do today,” I joked darkly.

She eyed me for a moment and then she suddenly burst in to tears. She was immediately embarrassed and tried to turn away from me. I jumped up from the couch. It was always my immediate reaction to console someone who I could see was upset.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” I asked quickly touching her shoulders lightly. She almost jumped out of her skin and shook her head. She tried to apologise but she could barely even speak through her tears.

“Please don’t say sorry, its alright,” I guided her to the couch, “here, sit…” 

For a moment I let her compose herself and waited patiently. She wiped her tears away and covered her face, resting her elbows on her knees. “I don’t have the right to make this about me,” she murmured quietly.

I was a little confused, “Make what about you?”

“What you’re going through,” she said bluntly and then it hit me. Malania was crying for me. I felt a pang of fear, gratitude and love burst through me and in to my heart for a brief second before I pushed it aside. “You’re holding it together so well for someone who has been unjustly hurt and the least I can do is the same…”

I drew in a deep breath, “I’m not holding it together that well,” I admitted almost sheepishly, “I haven’t slept in days.” 

I watched her try to choke back new tears as they lifelessly mapped themselves all the way down her cheeks again. She didn’t bother trying to stop them this time. “I haven’t slept properly since we were in Mexico, I can’t even begin to imagine what its like for you…”

“Its awful,” I said quietly, “I feel like I’m going to go insane. I’m literally too scared to leave Hayvenhurst. I’m too scared to see the lawyers. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t even have an hour to myself without thinking about what my friend is doing to me.” I felt like breaking down as well, but I held it back.

“Malania, you know my fans are my world. Its not happening directly to you, but my love for my fans is unconditional as I know yours and theirs is too, so when I feel pain, you feel pain, vice versa… I think its one of the most beautiful things about my career, that exchange of love… but…” I looked at my hands and reached for hers, taking it and giving it a little squeeze, “I don’t want you to be unwell, I don’t want you to cause harm to yourself because of me.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand. “Why is she doing this to you?” she asked, showing a streak of anger. I wanted to smile at her boundless empathy for me.

“I don’t honestly know. I think she’s hurting over something and I haven’t figured out what.” I decided I owed it to her to be honest.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you. I’m sorry for making this about me and for imposing on what should be private time.”

I hated that she apologized so much.

“I’m not going to lie, I feel heartbroken, but I’ll be okay,” I promised her. “Please go home tonight, back to your parents and rest.”

“Okay, but only because you asked.”

I just smiled. I walked her back to the security gate, as far as I could go without being noticed by the press. Before we said goodbye, I went in to the security office and grabbed a card and handed it to Malania. She took it and stared for a moment quizzically.

“Next time you come back, call Alfred and he’ll let me know that you’re here.”

I gave her a hug, not wanting her to overthink it. She hugged me back, squeezing me tightly. “Thank you for everything. I will pray for you every day.”

“Me too… see you soon Malania.”

 

When she disappeared out of those gates I felt that sinking lonely feeling overcome me once again.

Chapter 7 by SkyWriter

 

Chapter Seven: Still I cry alone at night…

There were several things I needed to face. One of them was food and the other was sleep. I also needed to send a message out to my fans, but it was hard given that I currently had no personal assistant or manager. I needed to see my father, I knew he would help me. He wasn’t good at making money, in fact, quite the contrary, but he knew how to help when there was a crisis; he knew how to take care of his family.

“Michael, I don’t know if you want to take this phone call, but…I think it will cheer you up,” Mom interrupted me. I was sitting in the small informal dining area inside the kitchen waiting for her to make me something to eat.

I promised myself that I’d at least try, even if I did vomit, it didn’t matter, I just had to try my best to keep it down. I’d keep trying til it stayed down.

I hadn’t even heard the phone ring.

“Who is it?” I asked, looking away from the stained mahogany dining table and up at my mother.

She covered the receiver with her hand and smiled at me, “Its Liz.”

Everyone would have thought I’d been bursting at the seams to talk to my friend, Elizabeth, but really I was upset that it had taken her this long. I felt like talking to her as much as I felt like talking to my brothers.

I wasn’t rude enough to say no though, given that I was pretty sure my mother would have told her to just hold the line. I pulled myself up from the chair, feeling weak on my feet. I made my way to the breakfast bar and took the phone from her without a word.

“Hello?”

“Michael! How are you?” Liz asked, her familiar voice quickly melting me.

“I’m okay,” I replied quietly.

“I am so sorry I didn’t call sooner, I’m in Anguilla and have been for the past week, I told no one to bother me unless it was an emergency – and unfortunately, my assistant didn’t consider this to be an emergency, fool that she is!”

I could tell with just how urgent her tone was, that she was sincere genuinely concerned. “Its okay,” I murmured.

“No Michael, its not okay. What’s going on over there and what can I do to help?” her tone was take-charge and business. I needed that probably more than anything in the world. I loved my mother, but perhaps she was a bit too soft on me.

“I don’t know,” I replied with honesty. I leaned my elbows on the counter top and rubbed my face with my palm, trying to think, my brain felt fuzzy though.

“I’m coming straight home, sweetheart, is everything okay where you are?” I knew it was a loaded question. She knew how awkward and uncomfortable my family situation could be.

“You don’t need to, I’m okay, I promise.” We both knew I was lying. I wanted her to be by my side. I needed a friend.

“Don’t be silly. I’ll be there tonight. Are you eating properly, sleeping?” she pressed, knowing me far too well.

“Trying,” I murmured, “I have some sleeping pills, but I,” I looked up and saw my mother hovering, “I haven’t taken them yet, but I think after I eat I’m going to.” 

“Good boy. Listen, I have to organize my flights, is there anything I can take care of for you while I’m in transit? I can speak to your manager and find out what you need to do and get it all done, any errands?” 

“My manager walked,” I admitted, “I don’t have any assistants or management currently, Joseph has been taking care of a little bit of it. He got me a lawyer.”

“Do you want me to organize someone loyal for you? I can find you a good manager and also a personal assistant to do anything you need doing.” 

“Just one or the other, I don’t want too many people around me right now.” I told her honestly, “I kind of just want to be left alone, but I know there’s things that have to be done. If you can help with the fan thing, that would be wonderful. I need to get a statement out.”

“I’ll help you, sweetheart. I’ll draft something for you, I know your heart, when I see you tonight we can fine tune it and send it out via my manager, what do you think?”

“I think that its so good to hear from a true friend,” I told her, my voice breaking a tiny bit. She picked up on it straight away.

“Oh Michael, I hope you didn’t think I’d abandoned you.”

“No,” I lied, “I haven’t been here nor there, honestly…”

“Your Mom said you were about to eat, go and do that, okay? And then take a pill and sleep. When you wake up, my darling, you’ll probably be able to think and feel a lot more clearly.”

She was right about that. At that point, I felt pretty numb.

I agreed with her and was relieved that I would be seeing her later. “Thanks for calling me Elizabeth.” 

“Of course, I’ll see you tonight and give you a big cuddle.”

I managed a smile. We said goodbye and I sat back down. My Mom didn’t ask questions and I was glad. She gave me some crackers. I began to eat them as quickly as I could, hoping that they’d stay down. My stomach hurt from the food, but I ignored it. After the crackers she’d made me my childhood favourite, brown bread banana and peanut butter sandwich and I ate most of that, choking down the last mouthful.

I excused myself shortly after feeling as though it was going to come all the way back up, but it didn’t. I took a tablet too, chewing it because I didn’t want anything to drink.

I slid in to my bed again, back under the already disrupted covers. I buried my face in the pillows and closed my eyes. Even if I wasn’t sleeping, it felt good to rest my eyes given how itchy and red they had been feeling.  

**

My thoughts drowned in the jovial business conversation around me. I wasn’t listening and had completely tuned out. My presence was just for show, it looked good or something. Whatever, I didn’t even care. I glanced down, the cuff on my red button down shirt had shifted up a little, exposing the slowly healing line on my wrist.

I quickly pulled it down, covering it. With noticing it, came the burning desire to do it again. The rush, the release, and the pain, it had all felt good to get expend through such a ridiculous and extreme measure.

I had just wanted to know what it would feel like, to join in on the pain infliction. Perhaps there was something satisfying about hurting me that everyone else was privy to except for number one.

I was currently a litigator’s dream, being sued left right and middle for any number of stupid things. Each time I peed, a new lawsuit was being slapped on me. And then, there was that whole thing with Carolina, the dizzying highs of new love and the rock bottom lows of knowing someone had told the press that you were a virgin and hadn’t made love in more than 10 yrs.

Not to mention the bullshit my brother Jermaine was saying to the press about me. Tensions were high between us, but injecting lies to the press about my sexuality was the last straw for me.

I ran my thumb over the spot beneath the fabric of my shirt and wondered if I had the guts to do it properly this time. First time was just a trial, a ‘see how it feels’ type deal. Second time? Well, the thought became almost obsessive as I sat in the meeting just waiting for it to be over so I could go back to bed.

I was good at keeping up appearances, you know, putting a smile on my face before going out to face a group of people. Every now and then I’d catch sight of the monster in the mirror that looked familiar and I’d notice he was scowling so the demons in my head forced me to smile so that nobody could know, nobody would bother helping.

I was past that point, and even if they tried, I’d cling to them and they’d hurt me.

It was easier if I hurt myself, at least I could control the pain this way and still indulge myself the same rush that everyone else seemed to get from it.

If I’d had something handy, I was sure I would have taken a bathroom break. Instead I sat, obsessing with the idea of warm blood trekking down my skin, watching it ooze from my flesh with a weird oily consistency. The thought alone alleviated my emotional discomfort immediately.

Suicidal thoughts had been coming fast and furiously over the past month. I tried to sleep them off but they had recently began invading my dreams and making me feel like it was time to go – to pack it all in.

I’d done enough things with my life. I was successful in one way, but a horrible failure in others. A week earlier my father had found out that I’d signed off over ten million dollars to overseas charities and the look he had given me made me feel sick to my stomach. I knew I was a failure to him. I wasn’t like the other boys. I didn’t socialize with my father, we didn’t drink beer and discuss the good times.

Nope, he wanted money from me. I was tired of saying no to business ventures only to have his borderline threatening face in mine, reminding me that he was responsible for my success so I owed it to him.

I may as well have burned the money, but instead I gave in. I was tired of all those pressures. It wasn’t like they were few and far between either, I got all kinds of requests for financial help. From my brothers, my Dad, from friends, distant family – nobody wanted me without wanting something from me.

Walking, talking cash cow, that’s all I was to anyone.

I had toyed with avenues of suicide for weeks. If I were to do it, how would I do it? I had begun to rewrite a will. I would leave a large sum of money to my parents and set it as a trust because my mother was too good to ever say no to my father, even when she knew it was a bad idea. The rest of my finances?

Well, those plenty of millions would be left to charities and only charities.

Business-wise I’d allow my friend Elizabeth Taylor to call the shots. She knew my heart, she knew what I would allow and what I would be against.

I knew if I didn’t have a set will, craziness would ensure upon my exit. I couldn’t do that to my mother.

I knew my Mom would be heart broken, but I’d leave her a letter. She’d understand that my pain in this would lose out to my desire to be home with God.

I hadn’t realized that I was crying openly in front of a bunch of suits until someone touched my arm. “What’s going on, Michael?” Larry whispered, nudging me.

I suddenly jolted to attention, glancing around at about 8 sets of eyes that belonged to big wigs that all kind of meshed together. I gave a polite chuckle as someone handed me a tissue, “sorry,” I smiled, “I was just thinking of how much this is all going to help the children.”

They all seemed relieved. Larry smiled at me and patted my back.

“Well, Michael would you like a tour of the oncology unit you’d be helping?” one of the suits asked me. He was bald save for the unreasonably long beard and mustache. He looked like if he changed his dress code, he would have more suited a motorcycle.

“Sure, I guess.” I pushed the chair back and got up from the roundtable. Whatever it took, just get me out of here and back home, I thought.

We walked past some wards. I was with a group of yes-men as usual. They all tried to impress me by pointing out things and explaining what their uses were. I was more interested in the people, that’s the way I’d always been. We walked past a few wards and I waved and stopped to say hello to some of the children and their parents.

Then I met her.

Her eyes stared straight through me lifelessly as I was about to pass. I stopped in my tracks. Everyone around me stopped short too, almost bumping in to me. I threaded between two of the men on either side of me and let myself in to the unattended ward.

‘Casey Hargrove’, her name above the bed read. She seemed lethargic and deathly. I knew she was in the later stages of her illness. I slipped in to a chair, dragging it closer as if I was connected to her in some ways.

I too, was in my last stages of my illness. Perhaps they were different types of illness, but both were all consuming and debilitating and causing us to just be waiting for the right time to be carried home.

“Hello…” I whispered, slipping my hand atop of this child’s. I didn’t want to scare her, but she seemed indifferent to me sitting there. She had a tube in her nose, feeding her, IVs in her ankle.

I felt like they were probably just keeping her comfortable. Her chest rose and fell with what sounded like great difficulty.

“This is Casey,” a nurse informed me, pushing past both men as well. I felt like she was trying to show off, immediately I disliked her. “She has been diagnosed with Wilms tumor which is cancer of the kidneys.”

“What’s her prognosis?” I asked bluntly.

The nurse shrugged. I hated that she didn’t really seem too moved by this one little girl’s plight. “Treatment is a financial issue. We’ve stopped chemotherapy but her mother brought her in last night. She’s very unwell and having difficulty breathing so we’re helping get a bit of strength back before we send her home.”

It was incredible to me that the nurse explained the situation as though she were sharing directions on making a great peanut butter sandwich. I shook my head trying to get around the explanation.

“What on earth is going on here?” a voice demanded to know from the doorway. The voice came from behind me, angry and offended. I turned around to find a woman in her mid twenties or so, with her hair dark brown hair looking a little disheveled. When she realized who she was talking to, she flinched slightly, but didn’t let it on.

“My daughter is not your publicity stunt, she’s not your science project!” she snapped at both me and the men around us. She glanced at the nurse, “who are you to give him private information about my daughter’s case?” she snatched the clipboard from her and placed it face down on the hospital tray.

“I’m very sorry,” I apologized, realising she must have been deeply hurting over the helplessness of her daughter’s condition, “it wasn’t my intention to butt-in.”

“Well you did,” she retorted, crossing her arms, standing on the other side of her daughter’s bed. Casey gripped my hand tightly, not really taking her eyes off of me the whole time.

“Okay, well I apologise again. I wish your daughter all the best.” I went to get up and felt a tug at my hand. I smiled down at the little girl. Her eyes told me to stay. My heart wanted me to stay and I felt necessary in that moment.

“Don’t-“ the overly emotional mother held her hand up at me to halt my wishes, “just don’t.”

I felt awful and to be truthful, a little selfish for my earlier feelings. I slowly loosened little Casey’s grip from my hand and gave her a tiny smile. “God bless you, sweetheart,” I murmured.

As I turned my back, I heard her moan out loudly as if crying out for me to come back.

“Its okay sweetie,” I heard the mother try to placate her but pretty quickly her call for me turned in to weary and struggled cries.

I tried to walk out, and I started too, sheepishly, but my heart felt heavy and so did my feet. “Wait…” the mother called as I was about to make my way down the corridor, “could you…” I turned back, staring at her. Her eyes were covered with water. I knew she must have felt incredibly helpless.

“Sure…” I gave her a smile to let her know I wasn’t mad or annoyed, but rather happy to stay and console her child. This at least, was something that I was good at.

“Can they leave?” she asked, nodding toward the rest of the men.

“Mr Jackson did you want to see the rest of the hospital?” another man asked me.

I looked up at him and smiled politely and looked at Larry, “I’m okay for the minute. Larry, why don’t you go and check it out, come back and get me when you’re done?”

He understood this is what I wanted.

“Okay, Daryll is just outside the door.” Daryll was the 7ft2 giant that monitored my safety.

I just nodded. They left me to it with a nurse who had just been chastised by the angry and overprotective mother.

The nurse left too, but I could tell she was trying to busy herself for long enough to hear our conversation or spend more time with me. She went away reluctantly but said nothing except giving me a small wave.

I decided to give the mother some space and not try to ask her questions or win her over. In all honesty, I was only interested in the little girl. I wanted to know her story and how I could help her.

She ceased crying when I drew my chair up again. She eyed me carefully. I smiled at her and edged closer. I rested my hand on hers again. She clutched it and focused in on it. She breathed heavily and unevenly as if she was struggling.

“You are so beautiful…” I murmured with a smile, “you must be such a joy for your Mommy…”

“What your name is?” at first I couldn’t understand her. Her voice was quiet and hoarse, as though she hadn’t been speaking a lot.

“What was that?” I asked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you?” I cupped my free hand over my ear and leaned down, gesturing to her to speak up.

“What your name is?” she asked again.

I gave her a smile, “my name is Michael. Can you say that?”

“Mi-cooo” she repeated.

“My friends call me Mike, you call me that if you like,” I told her. It wasn’t actually true, really no one called me Mike, but I knew it was a bit easier her to say.

I finally looked up at Casey’s mother and saw that she was wiping her tears away furiously. “I’m sorry about coming in and sitting down, I guess I didn’t really think that it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Its okay,” she murmured, wiping her eyes with a balled up tissue.

I looked back to the little girl and wondered how life had to have a price. Wasn’t everyone’s life just as important as another?

I’d have given my life in that moment for that little girl. Granted, my indifference to existing was on an all time high, but still.

“Is she comfortable?” I asked her mother, “I mean, is there anything I can do to make sure she isn’t in any pain?”

The mom drew in a deep breath and sighed. “I think she’s okay.”

I stayed with the child until she fell asleep and slipped out with my manager and security.

**

Home was lonely. I listened to my security guard doing detail throughout the house as I went to bed. It was raining outside. I couldn’t get the child from the hospital out of my head. The way she had stared through to my soul had taken me by surprise.

Perhaps it was unfair of me to be so willing to throw away my life when she was struggling so much to keep her own.

It had certainly given me a new perspective.

Still, I thought, as I ran my fingers across my thigh, it didn’t stop this obsessive part of me from trying to find relief in my very own pain. The second the bleeding stopped, I longed for it to happen again.

I knew it was unhealthy. I knew I needed help, but helping knew I would no longer have that outlet.

So, I made the decision on the spot to do everything I could to make sure the little girl in the hospital received the best possible care. I wanted her Mom to know that she wasn’t just a charity project, but rather a precious life that put my own feelings in to perspective.

Casey Hargrove was the reality check I needed that edged her way in to my life in the nick of time.  My suicide had been all but executed, I just hadn’t quite found the courage but it was being tested and tried slowly but surely.

If I hadn’t of met that child when I did, I was sure that I wouldn’t have been around to face these accusations.

 

And in that moment, I couldn’t figure out if that was a blessing anymore.

Chapter 8 by SkyWriter

 

 

 

Chapter Eight: I am the agony inside a dying head.

 

I tried not to shake as I held the lined paper in my hand. Elizabeth sat next to me and held on to my free hand. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to speak. The words almost spilled out with tears, so I closed my mouth again, took a deep breath and gave it another try.

 

“I would like to respond to the recent accusation that has been made against me. Unfortunately, I am unable to respond directly to the accusation as I have been advised that this is not the correct way in which to do so, not only that, but I would not like to tarnish the names of the accusers of whom are very well known to me. Ultimately, I wanted to use this forum to proclaim my innocence of any improper conduct on my behalf. I hope that my past character and past actions can all speak for themselves and that the people who are reading these awful things about me will not judge me until I’ve had my day in court. I assure you that you will see that this has been a misunderstanding or misinformation. I am a loyal, loving person, I aim to be a good friend, a charitable heart and someone who seeks only to help and never to harm.”

 

I let my words become more like autopilot after the first few lines. I didn’t want to become emotional. “I am happy to cooperate with the law until this has all been resolved. In the meantime, I want to take this moment to thank my fans for their loyalty, their love, support and faith in me, it means the world to me and will never go unnoticed. Thank you and I love you all so much.”

 

I gave a nod to the camera man. He switched off and I placed the papers down on the table in front of us.

 

“Good job, sweetheart,” Liz told me soothingly. The second we stopped filming, the tears filled my eyes. I breathed a deep sigh.

 

“I’ll go get this edited and sent out to Liz’ manager.

 

“Thank you,” I murmured, nodding my head.

 

I slowly stood up, nothing felt good within my body. I had an aching head. I had at least had some sleep, but food wasn’t so great. I had vomited a whole bunch of times.

 

“I think you should go back to bed,” Liz told me, holding her hand to my forehead, “you don’t feel too crash hot. Did you eat?”

 

I nodded, “Yeah,” I lied. I didn’t want her to worry.

 

“Michael, maybe I should get my doctor over to examine you,” she suggested.

 

“I just want to sleep.”

 

She came up to my living quarters with me and made herself comfortable. I loved that about Liz. There was no awkward politeness between us anymore. We were just ourselves. I got in to bed, not having to worry about her occupying herself. She came to the other side of my bed and got on top of the covers. She turned on the TV near to my bed and made herself at home.

 

I closed my eyes, trying to end the pain in my head. Every time I shut my eyes I saw Casey’s face. I wondered where she was, how she was doing and if her head had been filled with lies about me.

 

I hoped not.

 

“I wish I could talk to Diane…” I mumbled out loud, rolling over to my side.

 

“What would you say?” Liz asked, engaging me, I supposed she was trying to help me wrap my mind around everything.

 

I shrugged and slowly opened my eyes, “I would ask her why she would want to put Casey through this?”

 

“What about you, Michael, wouldn’t you want to know why she is doing this to you?” she asked, looking at me with love and concern.

 

“No. I think I have some idea… but Casey? She’s innocent in all of this.”

 

“Why would she have done this to you then? What do you think you could have possibly done to that woman to deserve this?” Liz pressed. I glanced up at her, her black hair was still styled perfectly in place. She always looked wonderful.

 

I managed a smile. I didn’t want to get in to it, it was too much to talk about with my aching head and my emotions overtaking me the way they were. “I trusted her with everything,” I replied.

 

I closed my eyes again. “Goodnight, Elizabeth. You’re welcome to sleep here or in the guest room, wherever you feel comfortable.” I reached for another pill and plopped it in to my mouth and decided to focus on the good memories; those ones that included my darling girl, Casey.

 

 **

 

“Michael, I can’t do this,” Diane sat on the edge of the bed, holding the small pen-like object in her hand, “I can’t…”

 

I didn’t know what to say to her, I felt conflicted, half of me angry, half of me feeling incredibly guilty for being the source of her upset. I paced the room weighing out the pros and cons in my head, trying hard not to speak them out loud.

 

“Say something!” she spoke angrily, glaring at me. She was as hot-tempered as the day I met her.

 

With great affection, I sat down beside her on the edge of the bed and stared at the object in her hands. “I think you’re highly emotional after what’s happened today, you’ve had too much news.”

 

“I’m PREGNANT! Of course I’m emotional!” she shouted at me, her eyes wide, just like her daughters when she was in trouble or full of curiosity, “I can’t do this, not with Casey!”

 

I didn’t take too well with people shouting at me, I never did, “I’m not an idiot, Di, don’t speak to me like that.” I was a pretty passive guy. Her face was wet with tears. I knew I wasn’t the reason she was so devastated, but rather it was the news that she had received.

 

She retreated slightly, holding her face in her hands. I put an arm around her, “I know you’ve had an overload of information today, I know this is a shock that neither of us were prepared for, but we’ll work it out, I promise,together.”

 

She just began to cry, well, sob, really. I pulled her against my body and held her tight, “Casey will be okay,” I told her, kissing the top of her head lovingly, “we’re going to take extra care after this round of chemo. I’ll find her better doctors, whatever it takes…”

 

I tried not to think of the possibility of being a first time father with Diane, and actually completing a family. Before I knew it, I had visions of marrying her, but it now it seemed like things were going to start getting very complicated and fast.

 

The grave news we’d received about Casey really took away any deep-seeded joy that I might have felt about Diane’s pregnancy.

 

“I can’t do this again, Michael, I can’t…”

 

We lived in hope that she was going to stay well. After defeating the odds and being given the all clear, her 12-month check up revealed a new tumor and we would begin chemotherapy again immediately.

 

“You can, we can, we don’t have a choice,” I reminded her.

 

You have a choice, you don’t have to do this,” she shot back, breaking away from me.

 

“Diane, I am not letting you do this. You’re upset, you’re in shock on both accounts and I don’t need you to be taking this out on me. I’m here because I love you both and I want to be here.”

 

Her face crumpled in to tears again. I felt her hands gripping my shoulders. She collapsed against me, pressing her forehead in to my collarbone. It wasn’t often this woman broke down, but she wasn’t holding it together at all. Her sobs were deep and primal as if she’d already lost her daughter. So far, I hadn’t allowed myself to think of a future without Casey, but it started to seem like it could be a possibility.

 

I stroked her hair quietly. “I’m not going anywhere, Di, no matter what…”

 

**

 

“Michael, sweetheart, you’ll need to wake up...” a soothing voice shook me gently by the shoulder. I shrugged it away and rolled over.

 

“Michael, c’mon, I need you to wake up for me…”

 

I opened my eyes, slowly adjusting them to the dimly lit room. “Okay, okay…” I wiped some drool from the corner of my mouth. I saw Liz standing over me looking worried.

 

When I sluggishly sat up, she seemed satisfied. “Michael, I need to tell you something important and its going to be upsetting.”

 

I wasn’t ready for it. Whenever anyone told me there was bad news, I immediately felt my heart rate quicken and my hands tingled. I was so afraid of hearing that I was going to go to jail. I knew logically that I couldn’t go to prison unless the crime had been proven beyond reasonable doubt, but I was still so crazily frightened.

 

Liz sat down and took one of my tingling hands, “your Mother wanted to be here to tell you, but … I know you’ll want to protect her from this.”

 

I nodded. “What’s wrong? Am I going to jail?”

 

I was not prepared for what came out of her mouth. I would never, in a million years have been prepared for what was coming.

 

“No, sweetheart, but the LAPD have extended their search warrant. They want do a strip search, photograph and DNA test.”

 

I felt dizzy very quickly. I shook my head, “No, no I am not doing that!”

 

“Michael,” she kept her voice quiet and even, “Michael, I’ll be with you, I can stay by your side.”

 

“No!” I shook my head, “this isn’t real, this is a joke, isn’t it?” I asked her, “tell me it’s a joke!”

 

Liz’s eyes avoided mine. I got up out of bed and paced the room.

 

“Its not a joke. If you don’t do it, it’ll be held against you.”

 

“I don’t care!” I rose my voice. I felt the tears flooding my face. Liz came to my side and tried to console me, but I shrugged her away from me again.” It hurt. Everything hurt and I wanted to just disappear. I wanted to run away and never return.

 

“No, no, no, no, no…” I shook my head, the gravity of everything seeping in. “They just want to grill me alive. Why is she doing this to me?” I cried out loud. I couldn’t breathe, I felt like my airways were closing. I tried to take a couple of deep breaths but I was aware that I was beginning to hyperventilate.

 

Liz had tears in her eyes as she followed me around the room wheezing for air. She looked helpless. I picked up the nearest object, a glass vase with a flower in it that my niece had picked for me earlier the day before. I hurled it against the TV screen. It shattered everywhere and I didn’t care. Next, a photo that I spotted about three steps away; Casey and Diane and me behind them, photobombing. This meant nothing, her friendship and love was worth nothing to me. All those hours we’d spent talking about our future, all of those kisses we’d shared, the time spent making love – it all meant nothing.

 

Did she really think that I was the sort of man that would sleep with her and then do something so incomprehensibly soul-stripping to her daughter? As if Casey hadn’t suffered enough.

 

I hurt for Casey, I hurt for what she was going to have to go through. I didn’t want her life to be this way. I threw the frame across the room and watched it hit a cupboard with some small Disney figures. They probably all broke.

 

I rested both hands on the back of my couch and tried to compose my sobs. I dissolved in to a heap on the floor, my legs buckling from underneath me. I curled up like a scared child and cried shamelessly, completely losing my composure.

 

“I want to die,” I murmured over and over.

 

“Please don’t say that, Michael, this is the scariest thing you’ve ever had to do, I know, but we’re going to see this through.”

 

I could barely hear her over my heart palpitations and the liquid that was rising in the back of my throat. I began to heave. I jumped up and made it to the porcelain bowl just in time. My heart was pounding right in my ears, it felt as though my entire body was pulsating. I leaned over the bowl, resting my head on the back of the seat. I knew it was disgusting, but thankfully very few people used the bathroom in my living quarters. It was probably only me.

 

I felt everything go black.

 

**

 

“Daddy?” Casey sang at me, holding her two arms up. Her hair was a mess of big blonde curls. She woke up cheerful, probably due to feeling halfway decent. I chuckled and obliged her. She looked so adorable, like a little angel. She grinned back at me. It was so good to see her so healthy, but we knew with a little bit of sinking that that wasn’t going to last very long.

 

“Baby heart,” I began, balancing her on my hip, “I’m Michael.” It was something that had only began recently, Casey had began on-and-off calling me Dad. I didn’t have an issue with that too much, but we liked to keep things as uncomplicated and as straight-forward as possible for her.

 

She didn’t seem to mind me correcting her. “Would you like to come with me to the kitchen?” I asked her as I made my way around her bedroom, getting fresh clothes for the day, “we could give Mommy a big surprise!” Diane was still in bed, she had been overly exhausted, but at least now we knew why.

 

“What we do?” she asked holding up her hands and staring at me with her large, icy blue quizzical eyes.

 

I smiled, “we will get you dressed and then we’ll go in to the kitchen and make Mommy some breakfast, does that sound like fun?”

 

The three and a half year old smiled with satisfaction. “Michael, do I have to go to the pink room today?” she asked sweetly, almost as if she asked nice enough I’d relent and tell her she didn’t need to.

 

“Yes my precious heart, you’re going to the pink room today,” I told her honestly. The pink room was the pediatric ward at the hospital where she was taken for her chemotherapy. She hated it. We knew she associated it with needles, bloods and hours spent having poison pumped in to her veins.

 

“Can you come with me Mi-chael?” she asked, “I like it when you come to the pink room too.”

 

It was hard for me to attend chemo days considering the busy schedule I was keeping and the hassle it was making sure I didn’t cause a scene. I had my own appointment with the record company at about 2 which would have been just when her chemo appointment began.

 

“I’m not sure princess, let’s see how it goes, okay? I promise I’ll try to come.”

 

“I like it when you hold my hand when the ouchies start.”

 

It broke my heart to realize that pain was just a regular way of Casey’s life that she seemed to take in stride. It had been six weeks since her first round of chemotherapy for the second cycle in her short three years. That made Diane around 14 weeks pregnant, I thought to myself.

 

It was all pretty touch and go on all fronts.

 

“I like to be there for you when that happens as well, honey, but Mommy can hold your hand today if I can’t be there,” I reminded her. I was aware that my presence during her chemo appointments was more of a novelty that she cherished.

 

I set Casey down on the carpet and placed her fresh clothes next to me. “Okay, lets put these clothes on you, you can’t wear your pajamas all day long!”

 

She rested her little hands upon my knees as I helped her in to a pair of blue overalls and helped her pull a clean, pink long sleeved top on before fastening her overall buckles at the front. I lifted her on to my lap and helped her slip on some socks.

 

We had to do our best to keep her free of any kinds of germs and bacteria. If she got sick, it could be potentially fatal.

 

Once she was dressed, I carried Casey out to the kitchen like a plane, zooming her crazily down the hallway and rejoicing at the sound of her bursting in to fits of giggles.

 

I dragged a chair in to the kitchen and set her on it, and together we made pancakes for Diane and ourselves.

 

**

 

I was walking a plank. I held a black robe around me tightly. In the next room I could hear laughter and I was pretty sure it was at my expense. I felt cold from the inside out and my body trembled with fear, humiliation and sadness. I clutched the material tightly around me. My Mom stood next to me, holding an arm around me as I silently cried.

 

I wondered when the tears would stop. I wanted to be able to stop before I had to go in to the room with the forensic officers with all their cameras. I wondered how long it would take for the photos to surface in the press.

 

“Sweetheart, I’m going to come in there with you. I won’t let you go in alone.”

 

I wanted to protest but I didn’t have the courage. Elizabeth, my father, my mother even my sister of whom I hadn’t seen in three years, Rebbie, and Lisa – they all offered to be with me, but I could barely face anyone as it was. I figured my mother brought me in to the world, I was most comfortable with her in that respect.

 

I just tried to keep breathing. I focused on exactly that; deep breath in, deep breath out. In, out, in, out.

 

My lawyer Greg emerged from the room grimacing. “Are you ready, Michael?” he asked me.

 

I wasn’t ready, I would never be ready for such a humiliating, shameful request to prove my innocence. I shook my head, my trembling turned to shaking. “I can’t…” I told him, which was probably sounding more like a bargaining child being told to get a switch, “please, Greg, please don’t make me do this…”

 

“Michael,” he looked at me with great compassion in his eyes which I appreciated, “I’m sorry, come on, the sooner we get in there, the sooner it will be over with.”

 

My stomach could have fallen out of me. My Mom grabbed for my hand and squeezed it tightly. I almost fainted walking in to the living area of my parents home. The were two officers, a video camera and a still camera. I looked to Gregory, “they’re not filming this, are they?”

 

“Yes, Michael, but these photographs and videos will be suppressed, I’m going to be making sure of it. When this is over, we’ll make sure all of these pictures are destroyed.”

 

The officers both looked up at me. I didn’t really blame them, they were doing their job, but I bet they were glad they’d turned up to work that day.

 

“The police are going to direct you so they can get what they need from you,” Greg told me, he turned to my mother, “Mrs. Jackson, why don’t you take a seat here.”

 

I didn’t want to let go of my Mom’s hand. She tried to let go, but I wouldn’t. She put her arms around me, both of them, hugging me. “I am not going to allow anyone to steal your shine,” she whispered in to my ear as I embraced her tightly, “you do this Michael, you prove to them you did nothing wrong, and you continue to shine. Be brave, my son, be strong, you can do this.”

 

I felt my body shaking with new tears. I was wondering when they would finally dry out. Reluctantly, I let go of my mother and saw that her cheeks were wet with tears too. I know it hurt her to see me go through with the search as well as having to see how sad I was.

 

“Mr. Jackson, do you have any questions before we begin?” the officer asked me, watching me with a stone-cold, emotionless expression.

 

“How long will this take?” I asked, clearly my throat, doing just as my mother asked.

 

“We’ll try to get through this as quickly as possible,” he replied, “perhaps around 20 or so minutes.”

 

I knew each minute would seem like hours. “What are you looking for, exactly?”

 

“Markings, discolorations and any atypical genitalia.” I rose an eyebrow. For a moment I forgot the allegations and felt almost offended that Diane would think any part of my nether regions were atypical. She never complained in the past, quite the contrary, actually.

 

I said nothing. I counted to three before disrobing, leaving myself entirely naked and vulnerable in front of a room of four people. At least Gregory and my mother had the decency to allow me my privacy.

 

The second officer didn’t say a word the entire time, he just silently filmed the occasion.

 

The other officer started taking pictures, one after the other. With each snapshot I began to feel more and more distressed. I tried to fixate on something else, anything.

 

**

 

I arrived home late; we were three and a half months in to the pregnancy and I was beginning to start thinking seriously about my future with Diane. I was so happy with everything.

 

Diane and Casey were staying with me at Neverland, the place I’d very recently moved to. It allowed us all to have privacy and time together without scrutiny. It was beyond a miracle that the press hadn’t tried to marry me off or questioned who Casey was to me. Given our very different appearances, the excuse of her being a colleague’s daughter was enough for the media to leave us all alone.

 

I walked down the hall, setting down a bag of things. Casey was going through a phase of loving flowers, so I endeavoured to bring her a posy of different flowers each day. I placed the purple-dyed daisies on the countertop and went to the living room where I found Diane in a similar state to what she had been when we found out Casey had a relapse.

 

“What’s wrong?” I wondered.

 

She looked numb. I felt urgency within me and quickly made my way to her. I assumed it was bad news, my legs felt a bit weak and I felt a pang of panic in the pit of my stomach.

 

“I don’t know what is wrong with me…” her voice trailed off, “I can’t seem to keep any of my children alive…”

 

“Sweetheart, what happened?” I asked, wanting her to just tell me straight. I looked around the living room for traces of my little darling girl who usually liked to play with her dolls in the corner of the living area. “Where’s Casey?”

 

“I lost the baby…” she murmured, “it… I have to go to the hospital on Monday for a removal…our baby is…”

 

A deep sadness hit me in my chest. I didn’t know what to say, I was in shock.

 

“What is wrong with me, I can’t even keep my children alive?” she asked again. I put my arms around her and kissed her temple.

 

“Its not your fault,” I told her quietly. All of the joy that filled my heart and the dreams and plans that I’d silently mapped out for the tiny little bean that was small enough to rest in the palm of my hand was suddenly just washed away.

 

“I’m sorry…” she apologized to me, “I know this is heartbreaking for you, I know how much you wanted to be a Dad.”

 

“You said it yourself, I’m already a Dad, and I’m still a Dad, its just that we lost this baby before we got to meet him or her.”

 

This time Diane kissed my temple back.

 

**

 

Old habits died hard.

 

I stared at myself in the mirror thinking about the advise my mother had given me before the photos were taken and before I was stripped of any bit of dignity I may have had left.

 

It was too late. The shine and love for life was flushed down the toilet along with the absence of Diane and Casey. Especially Casey.

 

Diane could go fuck herself.

 

I sat down on the lid of the toilet seat after finding a disposable razor inside the vanity.

 

As the razor very slowly opened the skin on my thigh, I felt the fast rush of adrenalin course throughout my body. I watched the dark red oily liquid surface to the skin. I watched it spew out of the gash I’d made feeling what could only be described as a dizzying high.

 

I made a second incision on my opposite thigh and before I could help myself, there was another, and another and another… just one more, I thought, convincing myself that I definitely had to stop as the droplets of blood splashed to the floor.

 

I watched, almost hypnotized, as the blood just kept surfacing.

 

When I met Casey I promised myself I’d stop, and I did, but that proved to be pointless.

 

I took comfort in my own mutilation and sat back, closing my eyes with relief.

 

 

 

Chapter 9 by SkyWriter

 

 

 

Chapter Nine: I have faith in all you do…

 

Nobody was happy with me, least of all, Beth. I was in exile Michael Jackson fan community. I had been photographed and even filmed as the person leaving the Jackson family compound after they had found Michael’s whereabouts.

 

Really, they made Beth and I seem like masterminds. Michael at his parent’s house? Well, it wasn’t rocket science. I was surprised it took them as long as it did.

 

Michael had offered to call me a car service to get me back to the hotel where we had been staying but I said no. I knew Beth wouldn't be far away. I left the gates of Hayvenhurst, I saw her across on the other side of the road away from the dozens of film crews and photographers and fans; some that I knew of and some that I’d never seen.

 

Beth’s eyes fell on me and instantly I saw heartbreak and relief in one. I didn’t expect that she would have come back for me so early, but who was I kidding?

 

She probably wondered where I’d gone and then worried herself silly.

 

I felt awful. The camera men tried to talk to me, people kept shoving microphones in my face but I didn’t bother speaking to anyone. No one was going to get any cheap exclusives from me about Michael.

 

I slowly made my way toward Beth. She didn’t say much. She was leaning against her car that we’d been burning around in since we got back from Mexico.

 

Obviously she didn’t want to stay. Without a word to me, she slipped in to the drivers side and waited for me to get in to the passenger side.

 

I got in and we drove off.

 

It was an awkward and uncomfortable drive for a good fifteen minutes. I felt guilty and as though I’d betrayed her.

 

She looked tired. Her blonde hair was pulled back neatly but casually. Beth was so effortlessly beautiful that I found myself admiring her good looks on occasion with envy. I didn’t have particularly low self-esteem, but I was definitely not as good looking.

 

“So…” her voice trailed off as she looked over her shoulder before indicating to change lanes. I knew she wanted me to explain myself, but I felt annoyed; she was the one who left me in the middle of Encino on my own. She hadn’t even had the decency to let me know when she would return.

 

Then it dawned on me; I didn’t need to tell her the truth. She didn’t need to know that Michael and I had spent over an hour chatting the night before, or that he had come to see me in the morning. She only knew I had been inside.

 

“So I met Jermaine Jackson,” I promptly lied with a sigh.

 

I saw a bit of relief pass across her face. “Did you meet Michael?” she asked, “what was it like inside the gates?” she asked, and I knew all was okay with her because she was certain I hadn’t even seen Michael.

 

That part of her bothered me a great deal. I knew if a situation had been reversed, I would have been happy for her if she’d had a wonderful experience with Michael without me.

 

“No,” I lied straight up and didn’t even feel guilty anymore. “Jermaine invited me in out of the cold, he said Michael would hate to know I was there all alone, so he gave me a blanket and I sat in the security booth with the security officer all night… I didn’t get any further than that.”

 

I looked out the window, irritated. I still angry that she’d even left me, even though I should have been grateful, given the experience that I’d had.

 

“Wow, that’s pretty cool, how was Jermaine? Was he a slime?” we never had much time for Michael’s family. Some of us knew how he felt about them based on the very little comments he’d make that said more than enough.

 

“He was friendly enough, but still, I wouldn’t want to be in a room alone with him.” I replied bluntly.

 

Beth laughed, ignoring the tension. Since she’d figured out that I hadn’t had any dealings with Michael, she was no longer upset or hurt but almost joyful, light and free; but now it was my turn to have my say.

 

“Why did you leave me out last night?” I asked her. I never liked much confrontation, but I wasn’t afraid of raising an issue if I knew it would be detrimental later if I didn’t.

 

“I was exhausted,” Beth explained, “I just didn’t see how sitting there by the gate all night was going to make anything better.”

 

“There’s been times,” I pointed out, dragging all of my hair from the other side of me, over one shoulder, “where you’ve made me wait with you literally all night long in front of a hotel for Michael when we knew he was in bed asleep. Remember that time, when it began snowing?” It had been so freezing cold that we’d cuddled up for body heat. “And you begged me that you wanted to stay in case we missed something – and nothing happened, except that we froze.”

 

Beth sighed as if none of my references were anything akin to what she’d done to me.

 

“I never left you Beth, even when I thought it was a dumb idea…”

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you there. It was wrong,” she apologized, “if it helps, I didn’t sleep very well because I was worried, I was back there at 5 this morning and when you weren’t there I was scared something had happened to you.”

 

I shrugged. “I think when we get back to the hotel I’m going to go home. I’ve had enough, maybe you were right, Michael probably needs time without everyone waiting on him with baited breath; including us.”

 

Beth began to back peddle, apologizing profusely for hurting me, begging me not to go home but since I’d promised Michael I’d take care of myself, I figured it was probably for the best.

 

“Its okay, I’m not really mad. I just… I’m exhausted. I had a think about it all last night, I doubt we’ll be seeing him anytime soon” I explained, “and I want to see my parents. I need a hug from my Mommy.” I laughed.

 

My mother was the absolute sweetest lady in the world. When my Dad had been mad at me about deciding to follow Michael on tour, my Mom had simply said that she wanted me to be happy. I knew she didn’t approve, really, but she understood that traveling with my friend while happening to see Michael as well made me very happy. She also understood my life, what I had come from, who I was, and why I found whatever it was that I did within Michael.

 

For that, she loved him too. He was a bit of a life-giver to me. There were things about me that Beth wasn’t even aware of. We’d been best friends for a couple of years, but I think that was mostly because we traveled well together for the most part. We had Michael in common, but I was sure if we took him out of the equation, we’d struggle to find common ground.

 

Beth gave me a funny look. Her situation was different to mine. Her parents did not approve of her traveling for Michael, so she hid as much as she could from them. When we would travel abroad, she would make up some elaborate excuse. In fact, she had signed out of college about 8 months earlier and her parents still had no idea. They were still sending her grocery money for her dorm. I didn’t understand how she would ever think she could get away with it, but I tried not to judge.

 

“Okay,” she agreed, “when do you want to meet up again?”

 

“I dunno, I’ll give you a call.” I told her quietly.

 

We drove back the short distance to the hotel. There was still that strange tension between us but I ignored it and loaded up my own car that was still parked out the front of our room.

 

“Alright,” I told her, “I’m gonna get going.”

 

“Okay…” Beth’s voice trailed off. I felt a little bit bad that I wasn’t really offering her an explanation.

 

I gave her a hug which she held on to for just a little bit longer than usual. “Malania, I’m sorry I left you last night, that was really selfish of me…”

 

I smiled at her, “that’s okay, hey I got to meet Jermaine, remember…” I joked. We both disliked him especially the things he’d been saying in the media to try to defend his brother, insinuating that he could have been gay so as to take attention away from the fact that Michael allegedly molested a little girl.

 

I shuddered at the thought of the accusation. Such a crock of shit, I thought to myself, still reeling over it.

 

Beth managed a laugh, “howcome I feel like this is final, like you’re never going to see me again?”

 

I gave her a funny look, “don’t be silly, I’ll probably be back next week, I just want to go home, have a proper shower and sleep in my own bed.”

 

It wasn’t entirely true. I was planning on coming back in a couple days, but definitely on my own and I’d decided to mentally prepare to see Michael again and be some good company for him. I knew he needed it since he had a very apparent lack of support.

 

“Okay, drive safe…”

 

**

 

I felt so relieved to be home. I hadn’t bothered to let my parents know I was coming home.

 

I walked in the door, calling out to my Mama. I missed her the most when I was away. I was very close to her, given that I was the youngest of four children.

 

She came from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Sweetheart! My šećeru…” I felt the tearful smile fill my face as I came face-to-face with my Mama. Her greying hair was pulled back in to a bun behind her head. She was wearing a beautiful floral dress that she had hand made, gathered in at the waist with a pleated skirt.

 

She enveloped me in a warm hug as soon as she reached me in the foyer of our large, warm family home. My mother knew exactly why I was crying. She didn’t need to ask if I was okay, she knew I was devastated.

 

“Is Daddy home?” I asked when I’d calmed down. My Mama led me to the kitchen and pulled a chair out at the breakfast bar.

 

“No, no my beauty, Daddy is in San Diego for two days,” she explained. After 38 years in the USA, her accent was still as strong as it was the day she arrived from the former Yugoslavia.

 

My Dad was a businessman who worked in the tourism industry. He traveled from city to city and country to country working for a Japanese company. He and my mother were an unlikely match at first, but they were still together after 34 years of marriage and still seemed very happy and in love.

 

“Here, sit down, I’ll make you some tea and you tell me everything from your trip.”

 

It was nearing Easter which was a very special time in my mothers tradition. She spent a lot of time making seasonal cakes and savory food goods for family visits and for church celebrations. She had obviously been baking. I missed her cooking so much.

 

I had been gone for around a month, it was probably the longest I’d been from home in my whole life.

 

I knew that my Mama would understand my joys and heartbreak for Michael. “Mama, the most amazing thing happened to me last,” I admitted, feeling like my eyes would fall out of my head. I wasn’t even sure how I made the drive home so far without falling asleep at the wheel.

 

My Mama smiled at me, her grey-blue eyes sparkling. There was no more pure heart than my mothers. Perhaps I was biased, but I couldn’t think of a sweeter person besides Michael. “Tell me, draga…”

 

I was the baby of the family and perhaps the way my brothers and sisters treated me was the reason why my mother still babied me. Or, it could have just been that I had been through more than any of them could have ever known. Either way, my mother paid extra special care to me. I was the quietest, the most sensitive and probably the most like her deep down.

 

“Maybe I should sleep…” I told her, “I’m so tired… and I don’t know if I feel like talking…”

 

My mother laughed, when she did, the lines by her eyes showed, though with it was real joy. “You tease me… okay, you look like you need the sleep, your room is fresh for you, you are lucky, I washed all your bedding the day before yesterday, I had a feeling you might be home early.”

 

“Thank you Mama.” I replied, slipping off the stool at the breakfast bar. I came around to the kichen and hugged her again. I was just a little bit taller than she was. “I missed you so much, I am so glad to be home.”

 

“I miss you too, draga…”

 

I kissed her cheek and gave her a little squeeze before letting go.

 

Volim tye…” she murmured.

 

“I love you too,” I grabbed my bag and headed up stairs to my bedroom. It was exactly how I left it. The sun was beating in through the windows, warming everything up nicely.

 

I dropped my bag down and pulled back my bed covers. I drew in a deep breath and flopped down. The softness of my mattress and the large, warm pillowy blankets made me realize just how uncomfortable sleeping in hotel rooms was. I did away with the cushions and slide beneath the covers, rolling over so my back was facing the window and buried my face deep within the pillow.

 

**

 

I woke up to yelling and shouting and felt an instant sickness in the pit of my stomach, an anxiety that had seemed to disappear for the months that I was gone quickly returned.

 

I sat up in bed, curling up, flinching away and waited with a frightening anticipation as I heard footsteps quickening up the hallway. I heard my mother following quickly behind, begging the person to leave me alone.

 

My door flung open and I was faced with a younger, more aggressive version of my father. “Get the fuck out of bed!! Who do you think you are?!”

 

“Please don’t.” I told him, feeling my eyes fill with tears quickly, realising what was about to happen. He dragged me from my bed, ignoring my mother’s pleas for him to stop.

 

“Get the fuck up out of bed! You need to grow the fuck up and get a job! How dare you shame us!” he yelled in my face loudly, “running around the world after a fucking paedophile!”

 

It was my brother. There was a long, awful history between us and just my presence angered him. I hated him. My hatred for him was deep, vile, toxic hatred that permeated through my bones from the crown of my head to the tips of my feet.

 

I had never fought him back. I had never dared to.

 

My mother grabbed his arm, yelling and crying for him to stop. He shrugged her away, almost sending her flying across the room.

 

I had nothing to really lose. With all my might and my strength in the other half of my body, I launched my half-closed fist at his face. My own force surprised me. I watched my violent, aggressive and predatory brother reel back a few feet. I knew if I stopped, he would retaliate just as forcefully so I kept on, not allowing him the chance to recover from my first blow. I kept hitting him, punching him, incapacitating him with a knee to the groin.

 

hated him. I hated him for hurting my mother, I hated him for making my parents fear him. I hated everything he had ever done to me and for what he might have been doing to his own children.

 

I had never in my life stood up to him before, but I was tired of it. Tired of the fear, of the unprovoked attacks, the tears, the violence, I just wanted him never to return.

 

I saw that he was bleeding and began to calm down. He couldn’t move, I knew I had hurt him. He was left swearing at us in Serbian. I urged my mother downstairs with me, away from him before he began to gain some composure.

 

“Mama we have to go to the police.” I told her, as I rushed her toward the door. She protested, but she allowed me to direct her to my car. Cursing, I ran quickly back inside to grab my car keys. I could hear my brother coming down the stairs, picking up a bit of speed.

 

Shaking and full of adrenalin, I legged it back to my car and started the engine, reversing out of the driveway just as my brother got to the door. “Its okay, Mama,” I consoled my Mom. She was crying and upset.

 

“You can’t go to the police on your brother.”

 

“Mama,” I tried to be soft on her, the way she would have been on me, “why do you let him do this? He will be back, he will beat me, he doesn’t have a problem hurting you, he has done worse… please,”

 

She didn’t say anything. I took her silence as her approval. I drove us to a police station. My Mom brought it to my attention that I was bleeding from my a cut by my eye and I had a bruise forming where he had struck me. 

 

The police gave my mother a coffee while I lodged a statement. Mama was too scared to sign anything, but I didn’t care. The police offered to come back home with us to make sure my brother was gone. They suggested we change the locks so he would no longer have access and allowed me to apply for a restraining order.

 

I knew my mother was sad about that, but she didn’t deter me from doing so. There was only so many times in my life that I could allow him to hurt me or my family.

 

The only real reason he wanted me to get a job was to probably help feed his gambling addiction. He had managed to blow a large portion of my parent’s retirement fund on getting him out of trouble. They’d tried to warn him, tried to help him, but no. Whatever Samuel demanded, Samuel got. Usually with force and intimidation.

 

No more, I told myself, he was not worth dying over anymore.

 

**

 

I could only bear to stay home until my father got home. I didn’t want to leave my Mama, but after what had happened, I was so frightened of my brother coming back. And I was tired of hearing my mother beg me to revoke the restraining order.

 

I went back to Hayvenhurst. I wanted to see Michael. It had been two days since the very public statement he made that had reached every four corners of the globe. I hated that the world had been privy to him almost breaking down.

 

Since that day he had endured a photographed strip-search and more. All because of that awful person he used to call his friend. I remembered seeing her with him on more than one occasion. We had all been convinced that she was a girlfriend, but I wasn’t entirely sure that was the case anymore.

 

I remembered the night we met the little girl in question. Beth and I, and another fan had been waiting outside of a New York hotel til the wee hours of the morning.

 

Michael had arrived without Hargrove but he had the child in tow. She was wide awake after 2am, balancing on his hip. His car drove straight in to the hotel garage and the gates came down so that we couldn’t get closer to him. He told us to wait a moment and went to pass the blond child to a minder.

 

She began to cry and scream and beg for him. I remembered the moment that I was sure made my uterus expand. He cocked his head to the side, half-smiling at the little girl. “Casey,” he murmured, “come on, my little heart, I have to sometimes say hello to my friends, you know that…”

 

The little girl wouldn’t have a bar of it. I didn’t blame her. She held her arms back out to him. He chuckled and picked her back up from the minder. She instantly stopped crying, “okay, okay… you win.”

 

At no moment did he seem frustrated or bothered by her. He had all the patience in the world. He slowly advanced toward us, “its okay though, these girls are my friends too… I’m sure it will be okay for you to say hello too.” I knew what it was, it was almost a warning for us to keep our cool. Or at least, him letting us know he trusted us.

 

The garage gates came back up at his request. He invited us inside them to chat. He introduced us to Casey Hargrove. I think the other fan had asked where her mother was, or rudely why Casey wasn’t asleep.

 

“I’m looking after her til tomorrow morning,” he replied, dodging the question, “Casey is undergoing a clinical trial tomorrow for her cancer here in New York, that’s why we are here.”

 

The connection then made better sense to us. He was helping a family, as always. Casey lay her head upon his shoulder, encircling an arm around his neck. He cuddled her back warmly, looking like the most amazing, doting father.

 

**

 

When I arrived to Hayvenhurst, the media had somewhat retreated. There were still camera vans and anchors waiting, but not even half as many as there had been when I’d left earlier in the week. I recognized a few fans and wondered how on earth I was going to be able to speak to the security guard without being seen. Or, if maybe Michael had just been polite when he said he would see me again.

 

I waited in my car with some food that my Mama had packed for me. I listened to my Walkman for awhile and kept to myself. When it got dark most of the camera crews left for the day.

 

I wondered if perhaps Michael had left Hayvenhurst to go elsewhere. I knew from photos that Elizabeth Taylor had arrived a few days earlier, so maybe there was no room for my support anymore. He probably didn’t need me.

 

At around 9pm, the last fan left. Pulling a jacket over my shoulders and tying up my long dark hair in to a half-hearted ponytail, I made my way to the gate. I knew that there was a good chance the security guard wouldn’t even bother putting my message through to Michael.

 

I pressed the intercom and allowed it to buzz. I’ll bet that other journalists and fans had been doing that all day long.

 

A few moments later I heard a bored sounding voice answer. “Hello, how can I assist you?”

 

“My name is Malania Nakamura. Mr. Jackson asked me to let him know when I return.”

 

“I don’t think he is taking any visitors right now.” The guard replied. I knew from his voice that he was the same guard as before. Alfred, his name was.

 

“That’s okay, I was here about three or four nights ago, he gave me a card and told me to call Alfred… is that you?” I asked, trying to sound confident rather than a dorky fan.

 

“Yes, that’s me.”

 

“I understand if he isn’t taking visitors, but if you could just please allow him to know I’m here if he wants to see me, otherwise I may come back tomorrow.”

 

“Sure, I’ll pass your message on.”  

 

I thanked him and decided to wait on the bricking where I had been last time I visited. At least I was better prepared this time. Over the days I was at home, I had mentally prepared for the things I would say, gestures I would make and how I wouldn’t let it get awkward.

 

I relayed the whole evening back to my mother who promised not to share the information with another soul, not even my father. She made me promise in return to not get my hopes up or fool myself in to thinking that someone like me could be married off to a man like him, especially given what a vulnerable state he was in.

 

I promised her without any issues. I wasn’t that deluded.

 

She had given me home made cakes and biscuits to take with me to gift to Michael and his family. It was a little embarrassing but that was just my mother’s culture.

 

I sat for a bit longer and listened to my Walkman before I noticed the gates opening. I didn’t get my hopes up. I remained seated, it could have been anyone coming or going.

 

“Malania?” a tall, black man emerged from the gates, looking around. The journalists rushed him. Someone quickly jumped ahead of me, “I’m Malania!” she jumped ahead.

 

“Um no,” I cleared my voice, “I’m Malania.” Before Alfred could respond, the journalist tried to nudge me out of the way. I was shocked but not surprised. Alfred glanced at the journo and then back at me.

 

Finally he smiled at me, “I remember you, please follow me.”

 

I said nothing but couldn’t help giving the liar behind me a small, satisfied smile.

 

Once the gates closed Alfred began to grill me. “Mr. Jackson wants to see you. I need to see the contents of your bag and you’ll need to sign a confidentiality waiver.”

 

“No problem,” I said. I placed my bag down and allowed him to go through it. Once he was done he asked if I had a vehicle.

 

“Okay, I’ll let you back outside, bring your vehicle inside the compound. The media will begin to do things like run your plates to find out who you are, and we want to protect Mr. Jackson’s friends as much as we can and keep his guest list out of the spotlight.”

 

I did as I was told after signing the waiver. I went back outside and started my Honda and watched the gates open and couldn’t help but to smile as Alfred warned the media to get out of the way so that I could come through. I drove in and stopped so Alfred could check out my car.

 

Once he was satisfied he told me to follow the driveway as far up as I could until I came to the driveway of the main house. I couldn’t lie, I felt a little bit excited. He told me Michael would meet me there.

 

I thanked him and made my way slowly ahead, trying to compose myself so that I was calm. I slowed down to a stop when I saw Michael standing out front of the home, looking a little bit awkward.

 

This time he wore some black, loose-fit cotton pants and a white t-shirt. His thin arms stuck out of the sleeves and I couldn’t help but to worry about the weight he had lost.

 

He looked incredibly unwell.

 

I wound down my window. He made his way over to the car and waved hello. “Thanks for coming back…”

 

“As if I wouldn’t…” I joked, sensing both our shyness. “Is it okay to park just here?”

 

“Absolutely… just here next to my car.” I noticed the stark difference between his and my car. His looked brand new. I didn’t even consider that he drove. Sounded stupid, but I didn’t expect him to even own a car. But yes, it was a large, black gaudy Chrysler with dark tinted windows and overall made my car look like a mini. I got out, taking my bag too. I almost chickened out of taking the food my Mama had given to me, but when I realized how thin he was, I figured if there was a chance he would eat, I should try to encourage him to take it.

 

“How are you?” he asked, hugging me tightly as though we were old friends. It was as though our relationship had instantly transitioned from fan and celebrity to friends.

 

I felt blessed.

“I’m good thank you, but I should be asking you.”

“I’m alive,” is all he responded with. He offered to take my large handbag for me, but I was afraid that he was as weak as he looked.

“Come on, its getting a bit chilly outside, would you like to come in?” I knew it was a big step for him to invite a fan in to his family’s home, so I was honored. I nodded my head and followed him to the door. He opened it first and gestured for me to enter first.

“Welcome,” he murmured.

Chapter 10 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

 

 

Chapter 10:  We’d Live A Life Anew

 

It was a long time since I’d invited someone new in to my living quarters. It was a bit like a teenage boy’s bedroom, well, a teenage Michael Jackson’s bedroom. It was nothing like my home back at Neverland.

 

I wasn’t really sneaking about, but I managed to get Malania upstairs with me without my Mom knowing about it. I wasn’t ashamed nor was I embarrassed, but I just preferred the privacy without having to answer questions.

 

I was glad my quarters of Hayvenhurst were so large and distant enough from the rest of the bedrooms in the house that I could do what I wanted without everyone knowing my business.

 

“Come inside…” I urged her, closing the door behind her, “this is my area of the house…”

 

Malania looked around in silence. She was curious, I could tell. I too, was curious when I entered someone else’s personal space. I liked to look around closely at things. It seemed to tell me a lot about someone. “Feel free to look around,” I added.

 

She did. She walked around, eyeing off the corner of the room where my bed was situated. I hadn’t bothered to make it since I really hadn’t been out of it much.

 

She let her eyes fall upon the roof beams where some of my larger Disney ornaments hung. I saw her smile at them before looking over toward the slanted part of my ceiling where I had once put together a collage of the Jackson five younger days. I just smiled after her watching her slowly and silently familiarize herself with my little part of the world.

 

She finally turned to me. She was still clutching her large bag with both of her hands. She laughed when she realized I was watching her with a little amusement. She looked quite beautiful. Her hair was swept back off of her face and held together with an hair elastic. She was looking more pale than usual and probably a little thinner, but then again, so was I.

 

She seemed tired but overall, content with the fact that I had wanted to see her.

 

“Did you want to put your bag down? Please, make yourself at home…also, I’m sorry it’s a bit of a mess, if the circumstance had allowed it, I would have preferred introducing you to my actual home at Neverland,”

 

She just shrugged, “its fine, you have a nice place.” She set her bag down out of the way. Before she said much else, she pulled something out, a plastic bag with something large and square inside it.

 

“I know this is kinda lame,” she began, “but its actually Easter next week and in our family, Easter is a big deal, probably more so than Christmas, so my Mama goes crazy baking for like a million people,” I explained, “and she made me bring this for you and for your family…”

 

I took the bag from her, not knowing what was inside. “Are you kidding? That’s not lame, that’s so nice, thank you.”

 

“You don’t even know what’s inside, it could be a worm farm, for all you know,” she joked with me.

 

I waved her to follow me in to the little dining area by my favourite bay window that I could climb out of and on to a balcony. I set the bag down on the table and reached inside to take out a large-ish container.

 

“Its very traditional food,” she warned me, “and I won’t be offended if you don’t want to eat or if you want to throw it away.”

 

I gave her a reproachful glance, “I am not going to be throwing anything away and if I did, you’d have every right to be offended. I’m not that rude.”

 

Inside were the most decadent looking cakes and pastries. Lots of almond-y type things. There were shortbreads filled with what looked like strawberry jam, chocolate wafers… I couldn’t believe the effort. The container was all but full.

 

“My goodness, Malania, this is amazing, thank you. Your Mom is so sweet. Thank you! You’ll have to tell me what everything is…”

 

I watched her seem to relax a little. I could tell she was a bit embarrassed. “Is that shortbread?” I asked, pointing to a crescent moon cookie.

 

She nodded, “Yeah, its hard to explain but its like – an almond shortbread. Its made with really basic ingredients and covered in powdered sugar,” she told me, tossing some of her hair that had fallen out of its ponytail.

 

“Cool,” I had been eating a little bit here and there, or at least trying very hard. It was just my personality, I always ate less when I was upset or stressed out, “thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome, Michael…” her voice trailed off. I liked her voice, she spoke quietly but there was a bit of a low husk to it that I found very attractive.

 

“Do you want to take a seat?” I gestured to the couch that I’d moved out of the way and pushed up against the wall so that I could see the television better from my bed.

 

“Sure…”

 

“Great, take a seat and I’ll get you something to drink, would you like some juice or water or something?” I asked.

 

“Water is fine.”

 

I smiled and told her that I would be back in a moment. I went downstairs to the kitchen, thinking about the fan that I had in my bedroom. It felt weird. I felt quite comfortable with her though, I really wasn’t sure what the point of it was, except maybe just some company.

 

I reminded myself that hanging out with Diane had began exactly like that and look how that ended.

 

 I grabbed two bottles of water and headed back upstairs, brushing away the niggling internal warnings.

 

“How was your week?” I asked brightly, “did you end up going home?”

 

She nodded, “Yeah, I went home. It was nice to see my Mom, it’d been just over two months since I’d been home.” I opened her bottle of water for her and handed it to her.

 

“Thanks.”

 

I opened my own and sank down beside her. “So, you mentioned your Dad is Japanese, your Mom is….what nationality?”

 

“Serbian, well… former-Yugoslavian,” she corrected myself.

 

“Wow, that is such great mix, no wonder you have such beautiful Eurasian features…” I wasn’t trying to be smooth, but I saw her cheeks flush.

 

“ha, stop…” she gave me an embarrassed wave. It was a bit sweet. I could tell straight away she didn’t receive compliments well. “I would ask you how your week went, but I kinda already know…”

 

I just nodded. I tried not to think anything about it. I knew I would be getting arraigned in a month, but I needed to get through every day ‘til then. “I’m okay, though…” I admitted, “honestly,” I added when she was looking at me as though she didn’t believe my words for a moment.

 

“What did you get up to at home?” I asked, I didn’t want to talk about me. “Was your Mom doing well?”

 

“Yeah, she was excited to see me. My Mom and I are very close,” the surface conversation was shitting me a little bit. I wasn’t used to striking up trivial conversation, it wasn’t really in my nature, but this woman was well-guarded, I was picking that up.

 

I let my eyes fall over her. She was wearing similar jeans to the ones she wore a few days earlier with a button down plaid shirt. She had a cute little black leather jacket over the top of it. She had since pulled her hair from the hair tie, now it tumbled down over her shoulders to her chest.

 

“Do you speak any Japanese or Serbian?” I wondered, “or are your parents super Americanised?”

 

Malania smiled, “my Mama still has a very strong accent and calls me her draga or her šećeru, it means her dear or her heart, and my parents have this really sweet way of interacting. Mama tells me she loves us that she loves us in Serbian, and my Dad always replies in Japanese or tells me and my siblings in Japanese, he’s says ‘taisetsu’, which is kinda like calling us precious, its not as common to tell each other you love them in Japanese.”

 

I laughed, “You didn’t answer the question.”

 

Malania laughed too. Her laughter was so cute. “I guess I can understand a little bit of both language. Probably more Serbian, my Dad gets in on it too.”

 

“Sounds like your parents are still happily married.” She nodded, agreeing. “And what about your siblings, older or younger?”

 

“I’m the youngest of four. I have an older sister, Anica and two older brothers, Kaito and Samuel. The eldest is your age and the next one up, my sister, she’s 26.”

 

“Do you get along with them all?” I was curious if everyone else in the world had issues with their sibling, or if that was just me.

 

She just shrugged. I knew that meant no, but I wasn’t going to push it. “You obviously aren’t a huge fan of your brothers, so…” she retaliated, almost as if my question had stung her. I rose an eyebrow at her, not expecting her to show any slight bit of venom in her response. It was a bit odd, I realised that her siblings were probably a sore subject.

 

“No, no I don’t… one of them is a dead beat and the other one thinks its helping me to go around telling the world I’m in to dudes.”

 

For whatever reason, Malania found a little bit of humour in that. Had it been anyone else, I probably would have taken offense, but I allowed her the laugh. It was wry, almost in disgust. “You’ve just had all the wins, lately, haven’t you?”

 

I liked that she wasn’t walking around on eggshells. She was at least more composed than she had been earlier in the week. “Yeah, tell me about it…” I was able to laugh too, I don’t know why, none of it was funny, but it relieved a bit of pressure to be able to laugh at least.

 

“Have you eaten yet?” she wondered. I wished everyone would have got off my back about eating. I truthfully hadn’t eaten much.

 

“Have you?” I shot back, raising an eyebrow again. I knew I had a hard stare, it was enough to make a person look away first. She didn’t look away though, and that surprised me. She stared back, her dark eyes challenging me. My own eyes seemed to lose their attention span in the little tit-for-tat game we were playing and rather, fell over her beautiful skin; the colour of honey and tea.  I could see now, the Eastern European presence in her features.

 

Her face was more heart-shaped than rounded and her bone structure was phenomenal, given that both Japanese and Eastern European ethnicities seemed to share prominent bone structure. Yet, given her defined cheek bones and hard jaw, her face still remained soft and feminine. Her skin looked so soft and clear that there was a part of me that wanted to touch it.

 

As my eyes travelled back up to meet hers, I noticed a cut and a dull bruise that had been strategically hidden by make up. “Hey, what’s that from?” I asked, ever-so-gently touching her face.

 

She flinched as if I had given her an electric shock. I was pretty intuitive; I knew something was up. In my experience, girls didn’t usually have an issue explaining facial bruises unless someone had caused it. “Don’t change the subject,” she interrupted me, “have you eaten?”

 

Given the kind of concern and compassion this girl had shown me over the years and especially in the past week, I felt I owed it to her to make sure she was okay. It was probably that same trait that got me in to the mess that I was in, currently, but I still couldn’t put that part of me to bed and wasn’t sure I ever would.

 

“No,” I admitted to her flatly, “honestly, I haven’t really eaten. I’m trying, but I can’t do it. Now, answer myquestion.” I didn’t consider that she might have a boyfriend, or could have even been married but it didn’t really seem likely, plus she had no ring on her finger, “did your boyfriend hurt you?”

 

She laughed at me, I knew her way. It was my way. I made jokes or light of situations that haunted me by laughing inappropriately to relieve tension. She wasn’t able to meet my eyes this time which I thought was telling.

 

“As if…” she muttered, shaking her head.

 

“As if what, you’d have a boyfriend? Girl, you’re crazy…” I breathed my words, “as if you wouldn’t have a boyfriend, look at you…”

 

“Stop, please…” she chuckled, getting red in the face which I thought was freaking adorable.

 

“Come on, would you tell me if someone was hurting you?” I asked, getting a bit more serious, “I am not going to lie, I’ll worry if you keep saying ‘nothing’, that’s just the type of guy I am.” I tried to keep my concern light-hearted. I had a feeling she’d respond a bit better to good humour.

 

“Oh yeah?” she gave me mock-narrow of her eyes before she let her little smile disperse. She finally shrugged.

 

“I’m okay. I promise. You don’t have to worry.”

 

I took her word for it, I knew I couldn’t push it anymore without her losing her temper with me. I knew I was making her uncomfortable.

 

“Okay.” I took her word for it. There was only so much digging a person could do anyway. I knew from experience how irritating it was to try to make someone drop an issue.

 

“So what made you come back?” I asked her, “I mean, not to be rude, I’m glad you did, but… I bet who you expected me to be is probably not who I really am.”

 

“Oh yeah,” she rolled her eyes dramatically, “such a cold hard dose of reality, the fantasy was so much better.”

 

I was able to laugh at her sarcasm. She excelled at it, I had to hand it to her. And dammit, it felt so good to laugh. There had been far too many tears recently. “I mean,” I giggled, “you know what I mean,” I added.

 

“I’m not an idiot, Michael,” she told me frankly. I liked this side to her that was honest, bold and if I did think so, a bit sassy, it wasn’t at all how I’d expected her to be, “who a large portion of fans think you are, and who you reallyare is always going to be different. But at the very base of it, you aren’t too far removed from our perception.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Tell me I’m not wrong to believe that you are someone who truly, from the heart, gives a damn about others – you are sweet at heart, you’d give someone the food from your mouth if they told you they were hungry. You are honest, intelligent, incredibly considerate and I’m still undecided as to whether or not you’re witty,” she finished with a slow smile taking up residence and upturning those full, pink lips.

 

I knew that last bit was a tease. “Well, maybe, I just try to be a good person that other people can be inspired by.”

 

“And that’s the very base of what your fans perceive you to be, so as I said, its not that far removed from the truth,” she continued pointedly, “and so to answer your question, I am a fan and you’ve given me a lot of hope in my lifetime and I’m not so full of self-importance to think that I’m anything wonderful, but I know you’re lonely right now, so if I can give any tiny bit of hope back to you during this awful time, then my work is done.”

 

I was rendered speechless momentarily. She seemed to have come out of her shell a little with me since our last visit. I was touched by her words. She hadn’t been wrong when earlier she told me that she made sure the compliments she gave were sincere and meaningful despite being few and far between.

 

“That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has said to me throughout this,” I said a little quietly, surprising myself even with the sadness in my tone, “thanks Malania. I’m glad you came back to visit. I could honestly do with a friend.”

 

She smiled at me, “me too,” she admitted in that same quiet – semi-defeated tone.

 

I knew from that comment that there was something going on with her. I wasn’t sure what it was because she was a little well-guarded, but I wondered if she would eventually tell me.

 

“Its weird, you know,” I began, leaning back in to the couch, resting my head on the back of it and staring at the ceiling as I thought, “everything is still so surreal. I keep waiting for Diane to jump out of the doorway with Casey being like, ‘ha ha, just kidding! We got you good!’ and I guess its kind of sunken in, but it still feels…”

 

“I know,” Malania responded pensively as my voice had trailed off, “but pretty awful joke.”

 

I managed to scoff, “I just don’t get it, I still can’t wrap my head around the how or the why. Casey is such a beautiful little girl and Diane never, ever put her needs before her. She’s a stellar Mom, so… the only thing I can think of, is that she truly believes someone was hurting her, and maybe someone was, but that person was not me.”

 

“Maybe she scammed you,” Malania shrugged, shoving a dose of cold, hard reality in my face.

 

I shook my head, feeling a little bit protective of the woman I had loved so deeply and unconditionally for years. “Nope,” I said definitely, “there’s no way to fake what we had.”

 

I realised perhaps I’d given too much away. The only other person who knew what was between Di and I, was my former manager, Larry O’Connell, the one who had walked. The only reason he knew about our relationship was because he was responsible for making sure I had my privacy with her. Oh, and that little moment that he’d uh, walked in on, I thought. I felt the embarrassment course through me as though I was living the whole humiliating episode all over again.

 

“Was she your girlfriend?” I winced, I was stupid if I didn’t think she would ask.

 

“She wasn’t my girlfriend,” I replied, deciding just for once to be honest. And what the hell, it wasn’t like I had to protect anyone now, my life was already in tatters and Diane had all but ruined Casey’s forever. “Its kind of hard to explain,” I thought for a moment and then shrugged, turning back to Malania who was studying me intently, “she was my bestfriend, everything to me, and Casey… she was like my daughter. Diane and I bonded over her. I met her when Casey had a very small chance at surviving an advanced and aggressive cancer… and I suppose we came together over her.”

 

“Why her? I mean, you help hundreds of children, what was it about her?”

 

How could I ever explain? The only person who I ever told about my suicidal tendencies was Diane. The only person who knew about how often and how deeply I cut was Diane. The only person I ever admitted that I’d mapped out my suicide to, was Diane. “Perfect timing,” I told her, looking in to her eyes. She was hanging on to my words. “I guess I walked in to their lives when I needed it the most.”

 

I remembered that day so well. I almost cried when Casey had grasped on to my hand and her eyes stared straight through me. She was almost gone, just like I had been. Together we came back.

 

Malania was listening intently to me. I could feel her eyes traveling all over me, but I didn’t mind. I knew she was just holding up her end of the bargain, being a friend.

 

“I became friends slowly with Diane, she was kind of hard to reach, emotionally, and I like to think I’m slow to trust but look at me,” I chuckled with reflection, “I’m an open book.”

 

Malania gave a soft laugh too and I knew it was her way of agreeing.

 

“Anyway, I guess over time our friendship developed and then it became more and in our hard times Casey held us together and in our good times she made us stronger and we never really gave our relationship a label, it just worked as it was. We never planned for the future because we didn’t know if Casey was going to be part of it.”

 

“Is Casey okay now, health wise?”

 

“No,” I shook my head, “well, maybe. She had a relapse just over a year ago, but she needs a kidney transplant soon. The last time I chatted to Diane was only around a week and some before the raid at Neverland, we talked about doctors and renal specialists and…” I felt the tears filling my eyes that I tried to blink back, “things got a bit heated, but… I figured it was just the stress of me being away, I told her I loved her, but obviously that wasn’t enough for her to check with me about her concerns before running off to the police.”

 

“To her defence,” Malania interrupted, “whatever shred of it that she has, if I thought someone was molesting my kid, I would probably go to the police before confronting the paedophile. That seems like the sane thing for a parent to do…” I knew she wasn’t trying to hurt me, but I was figuring out that she was logical thinker.

 

I sighed, “Anyway… it doesn’t even matter, does it? Its done… She made it this way. But still, I can’t stop thinking about Casey, she’s the real innocent party here.”

 

“No,” she shook her head, “you are. You are the victim, Michael, not Malania, not Casey. Do you really think that the accusation of some woman of a child you helped out is going to hold up in court without real evidence?” she laughed, “they will not get away with it. I promise you.”

 

I needed someone else to reassure me, “Thanks… I needed to hear that.”

 

We sat in a strangely comfortable silence for a few moments, obviously both getting caught up in our own thoughts.

 

“How come you follow me?” I wondered out loud, “I don’t mean that in a rude way, I mean, what makes such a gorgeous young woman with such a lovely family want to just take off and follow a pop star?”

 

Malania laughed and then shook her head at me. “Jeez, when you put it like that, it sounds like the lamest thing in the world, doesn’t say much for you.”

 

I laughed at the way my question had sounded, “you know what I mean.”

 

“Yeah sure… that your most dedicated fans are a bunch of riff-raff that nobody owns,” she continued, still chuckling. I nudged her with my shoulder good-naturedly.

 

“Just stop…” I told her despite the fact that I was laughing as well. She had a very crafty way of dodging my questions, “come on, answer my questions, I am interested.”

 

“To be truthful, its nice to just hang out with people who like you too.”

 

“What a cop out…” I thought, “No.” I shook my head, “no, that’s not what I’m asking. At what point, does a person stop and think, ‘I love this popstar so much that I think I’m going to follow him wherever he goes’, surely it gets expensive.”

 

“Yes and no,” Malania replied, “my Dad works in tourism and basically I can get accommodation anywhere in the world for next to nothing and I get a discounted price on airlines, so, technically for me, I can afford to do what I do and work in between when I see you,” she stared at me, her eyes holding my gaze, “and the other half of it I suppose is gradual. I decided to see you once. When I realised it wasn’t that hard to come say hello, I wanted to come again, and then again and you make friends along the way.”

 

“I see…” I nodded, “but don’t you miss family? I mean, when I tour, I miss my Mom and I missed Casey and Diane and such…”

 

“I miss my Mama and my Dad, yes, but the rest of it I can take or leave,” she replied. She reached up behind her head to put her hair back again. When her sleeves slipped a little to her wrists, I saw it. I knew she caught me staring too, but she glossed over it like it didn’t happen. I was so shocked that I couldn’t help but to do the same.

 

Scars. Vivid ones.

 

I did generally recall seeing her wearing lots of colourful bracelets, I remembered commenting on how much she jingled. I’d never really seen her in short sleeves either.

 

“So will you go home from here?” I asked her, trying hard to forget what I’d seen but I was so curious. I wanted to know what had happened and there was a part of me that was relieved to know that she truly did understand.

 

She seemed nervous, a bit shaken that I had seen her secret. I knew she was a little shamed and her voice betrayed the confidence that she tried to quickly bring back to life.

 

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll see how I go. I should actually make tracks… I don’t want to hold you up all night.”

 

I glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. We’d been chatting for a long while.

 

“That’s not what I was getting at,” I told her, feeling like she might begin to start opening up to me, “I was just asking. You do live with your parents, right?”

 

She nodded, I thought perhaps her father had hit her and caused the bruise by her eye. “Did your father do that?” I couldn’t help but to ask.

 

“No, Michael,” she cocked her head to the side, almost as if she were upset with me for pushing it.

 

“Sorry, sorry… I just worry.”

 

“It was my brother,” she blurted out, “but its fine. I’ve taken a restraining order out on him and he isn’t allowed near our home when I’m there.”

 

“What…” my voice trailed off again, I almost couldn’t believe that someone’s flesh and blood could bring harm, but then I thought of my own brothers and it didn’t seem so out of the realm of possibility.

 

“Why did he do it?” I pressed, “what a coward…”

 

“Because he’s a psycho. I don’t know why he does half of the things that he does,” she replied, once again avoiding my eyes, “he was mad at me for something, I’m still not even sure what it was. My Mama is scared of him and thinks that the restraining order is going to make things worse, so she wants me to drop it…”

 

“Don’t.” I told her very seriously, “the worst thing you can do is to drop it. The next time you need to call the police, they won’t take it as serious.”

 

“I know, I’m being strong, but its hard to see my Mama upset over it and my Dad is a bit embarrassed that it got that far, but they don’t know how to handle him anymore than I do.”

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”

 

“Of course you didn’t,” Malania shrugged, “I didn’t tell you. So as I said, its fine, I’m fine, you don’t have to worry.”

 

“Okay,” I replied even though she really didn’t get a tiny bit of a say over what I doled out my concern on.

Chapter 11 by SkyWriter


 


Chapter 11 – I’ll Be There


“When you studied art, did you want to be an artist, or…do you just like Art history?” he questioned me. I had used the bathroom and became fixated on a gorgeous oil painting just a short distance from the little foyer-area of his quarters.


I pulled my eyes away noticing that he was hovering close by. I knew that he obviously trusted me to have me in his actual home, but there was a part of him that was making sure that I wasn’t rifling around outside of his line of vision.


“Um, both. I can draw, paint, sculpt – all that type of stuff, but I enjoy the history and theory behind it as well. I think it can really sharpen your skills,” I replied thoughtfully as my eyes fell back over the painting.


“You like that?” he asked me, coming to stand beside me to survey it.


“Yeah, its beautiful, I love the brush work.” It was a simple painting, a seascape with a lighthouse, a little abstract with vibrant colours and a very unique technique to it all.


“Its yours… here…” he reached up to take it from the wall but I quickly touched his arm softly but firmly with a chuckle.


“No, no jeez, no, Michael, I don’t need it.” I laughed at his brazen kindness.


“I don’t need it either, just take it…” he had a smile, realising that I found his generosity amusing.


“I’m not going to take this painting, its probably worth a lot of money,” I remarked.


He shrugged, “I want you to have it, so let me give it to you,” he insisted, taking it from the wall, “to say thanks.”


It was sad that he felt he had to buy my friendship or my loyalty. I felt a pang of sadness in my heart and almost winced. “You don’t have to give me something to say thank you for my…” I paused, what was this? “my friendship…” I stammered, “please.”


“I know that, just accept it as a gift okay? Sell it, whatever, just take it cos I’m giving it to you.”


I sighed, “Okay. Well then I’ll have to find something for you in return.”


He laughed and shook his head, “Make me a Malania original some time and I’ll rehang it here.”


“Nahh,” I teased as we made our way back to the couch with me holding an 20” painting in my hands, “you couldn’t afford to own one of those,” I winked at him.


He laughed again at me. I sank down and stared at the painting. I couldn’t believe he had just given it to me. All those years Beth and I had been giving him little, silly gifts and yet years later I was alone with him in his house and he had given me not only the beautiful painting that I was holding in my hands, but the gift of friendship.


My heart swelled a little with emotion, but I didn’t really let it show.


I could feel my eyes getting heavy; I knew I had a long drive ahead of me back home. I felt strange about my experience with Michael. He was sweet, kind and very curious. It still seemed so surreal. I was sitting in the general living area of my lifetime hero’s home. What the hell…


“I should get going…” I urged the word’s out of my lips even though there was no part of me that wanted to leave.


“Okay,” he murmured, “are you going back home?” he asked again.


“Yeah, it’s a bit of a drive, but I’ll be alright,” I assured him, “I think my Mama will probably be waiting up.”


Michael looked at his wrist watch, he shook it down his arm a little and I was pretty sure I spied what he had spied on me. A cut. It could have been a scratch or something other, but in my heart I knew. I knew because of the way he had seen my scar when I was putting my hair. I knew by the way he glossed right over it.


It always hurt to know the people I loved were in pain.


“Did you cut yourself?” I asked him point blank, reaching to grab his wrist which he quickly flinched away from me.


“Oh?” he glanced at his wrist, yep, it was a fresh cut. It looked clean and neat the way my cuts were before they turned to scars. “No,” he shook his head with a smile that tried to play off his initial shock with my questioning, “its just from one of my animals earlier today.”


We both knew it was bullshit. He was fairly confident in his lie. I looked up at him, staring in to his beautiful eyes that had definitely lost a bit of the shine in them that I was used to seeing. “Okay,” I accepted his lie, “sure.” I wanted him to know I didn’t believe him.


Neither of us wanted to have the conversation. We had just glimpsed our common way of dealing with pain, but cutting was a very dark and secret game, someone finding out was almost an incomprehensible feeling.


“Anyway,” he looked away from my hard stare first, “what have you got planned for the rest of the week?”


I shrugged, “I’ll hang out with my Mama tomorrow.”


He fidgeted a little bit as I forced myself up. I grabbed my bag and pulled it over my shoulder, “thanks for letting me visit,” I gave him a bit of a smile.


He finally stood too, “Please, thank you for visiting. I know it’s a distance for you, so I appreciate it.” It felt a bit awkward as we walked together quietly from his room all the way down to the front and in to the carport where my black Integra was parked.


He shifted his weight almost nervously. “Will you come back and visit me again?” he asked, avoiding my eyes. My heart skipped a beat and I almost grinned, but I kept my cool. The only thing that was allowed me to keep calm was the fact that his confidence was actually shot to bits. His request seemed almost like begging and I realised he truly had no one.


“If you want to hang out again, I’ll make the trip.” I smiled. I tossed my hair out of the way and opened the car door, placing my bag inside.


“Great… I’m starting to feel a bit like a prisoner here. Its nice to have visitors.”


I felt for him. Despite how fine he kept saying he was, I knew that there was a world of pain that he probably wanted to talk about, but wasn’t quite there yet with me. Trust was obviously an issue for him. I understood.


“When do you want me to come back?” I asked him, not wanting to let it get too casual. I knew in Michael’s world how fast things could change.


“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” he asked, “is that too soon?”


“No, that’s fine.” I told him with the confidence that he no longer had. I wanted him to know that nothing was too much trouble for me. That, regardless of what happened between this moment and then, I was going to be there as an unfaltering pillar of support.


“Okay, well – look, I really am concerned about the media looking too much in to who you are, you really don’t want to be the subject of their interest right now,” he explained with seriousness, “so, how about I send someone to pick you up tomorrow night? That way, you don’t have to worry about driving and spending money on gas, it’s the least I could do.”


I smiled again, “The media don’t scare me and I don’t want to be a bother.”


“I’ve told you,” he said, “you are not a bother to me. Call Alfred tomorrow with an address and how is around 5 or 6?”


“That’s fine.”


We said an awkward goodnight before I left in my car giving Alfred a chance to go over my car again before he let me out of the Hayvenhurst gates.


**


Why it had happened, when it was going to stop, I didn’t know. I looked out the window a short distance from the bed I was laying in. I longed to go outside, I longed for some privacy, even just five minutes to pee alone in the bathroom.


I was bored. I rolled over, pushing the crispy white pillow beneath my head, trying to punch the lumps out of it. The sheets were so starchy and itchy. I just missed home.


Sort of.


I was angry and upset. My passiveness had been broken and I couldn’t help but to point fingers and yell and cry and lash out at everyone who came in to contact with me.


When I’d pushed it all too far, I’d ended up here. Alone. Well, I knew my Mama wasn’t far away but it infuriated me to see her and the psychologist was making her wait until she had spoken to me first.


As if reading my mind, a tall, silver haired man walked in to my ward and shut the door behind him. I didn’t move, I had frozen in to position but followed him warily around the room. He was wearing a white coat so I assumed he was a doctor. He tried to smile at me but I looked away as quickly as we had made eye contact.


“Malania, I’m Ray Vickley, you can call me Ray if you like.”


Woopdi-fucking-doo. Lucky me.


I said nothing. I didn’t want anything to do with him. I stared at the closed door silently hoping for a nurse to come back in and break our one-on-one time. I felt like the white walls were closing in on me.


I openly and petulantly buried my face beneath the itchy sheet, pretending that he wasn’t there. Partially it was out of fear that I wanted to avoid this stranger in my ward and partially because I wanted to be alone.


“Its alright if you don’t want to talk, Malania, I’ll be here for an hour, and its your time, you can use it how you’d like.”


I made a face beneath the covers, this whole stay was my time. What a dunce, I thought.


“Why are you here?” I asked bitterly, “what do you want?”


“I’m the psychologist. I was referred to you through your case worker.” I heard him dragging a chair close to my bed.


“I don’t want you close to my bed. Back up.” I told him firmly, “Please…”


“I understand, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he kept his tone calm and soothing. When I dared to peek out from beneath the covers, I saw that he was a safe distance away from me. I felt a little satisfied.


“Malania, do you want to talk about what happened last week?” he asked me as if I were about to have a sudden change of heart.


“Sure,” I muttered. “I was upset so I cut and went too deep and now everyone thinks I’ve gone crazy so they shoved me in the crazy house and now I’m here with a shrink.” My tone was bored, unmoved and I’d had enough.


The psychologist didn’t flinch. “How are you feeling today, on a scale of one to ten? Ten being the worst.”


“100,” I mumbled.


Speaking of 100, that’s probably the amount of questions he asked before my time was up. He left without much information from me and before long, I saw my father’s face in the doorway.


My Mama and I were the closest, but my Dad gave something else to my life. He was the surprising emotional crutch we all needed when the occasion called for it. Sometimes my mother liked to avoid bad news or negative situations.


He let himself in. He had been in Japan when he’d heard the news and had flown straight home to be with my Mama and I. He closed the door behind him and gave me his best brave smile.


I knew he’d been horrified and I felt embarrassed and ashamed of what I’d done. I knew would never understand.


“Oh, Malania-chan,” he murmured quietly, putting down a small bunch of flowers and a large-ish gift, “I’m so sorry,” he apologised.


My eyes filled with tears and spilled over. He engulfed me in a deep embrace that I didn’t remember him doing for a long time. “Papa…” I murmured as he wrapped his arms around me so tightly that I thought he might wind me.


After a few moments and some kisses upon my head, I withdrew from him. I wasn’t as mad at him as I was with my Mom, but somehow the love that I felt for her outweighed the anger. I knew it was irrational, she didn’t even know the reasons for my upset and anger. Perhaps if she had, she could have protected me, it’s more that I didn’t give her the chance and expected her to know what was going on.


“Sweetheart, are you alright?” he took a step back, surveying me. I knew I looked okay, I didn’t look sick or pale, nor were my symptoms too external. Well, save for the bandages on my wrists.


I nodded. He dragged a seat toward me and sat down. “I got you some flowers, darling,” he pointed. I loved flowers, he knew that.


“Thanks Papa,” I managed a smile through the shame that I felt. I picked up the bouquet of yellow tulips and smelled them. It was better than the hospital bleach that overpowered the room.


He picked up the wrapped gift and handed it to me. “I wanted to bring you something from home to cheer you up…” I pretty much already knew what it was. I unwrapped it without a word.


Yep, I was correct.


I glanced at my father who was balding slightly. He was tall and broad and had a soft, kind face and was still every bit as good looking as he was in his early years. Despite the fact that he was away often, he was still a good, supportive parent and he loved my mother so much.


“Hakone Zaiku,” I smiled, looking at the beautiful, large-ish wooden mystery box that he had given me. Ever since I could remember these little mystery boxes had intrigued me. It was a very typical woodcraft. Typically the patterns on each box exceeded over 50 or so geometric ones which required moving around panels in order to open it.


I always kept special belongings in these boxes. I knew none of my brothers or sister had the patience to try to get in to it. I loved it, it was beautiful and although they looked similar every box was so intrinsically different. This was probably the most complicated and beautiful one I’d ever received from my father.


“Thank you so much, I love it…” my voice trailed off as I fingered the different natural colours of the wood. I shook my head in amazement, “this is so great, I love the flowers too.”


“I’m glad that you love it. This one is very special, it has more than 75 moves to open it,” he explained. They did not come cheap. I knew this was one to keep me occupied during my stay. It felt heavier than usual, but I didn’t think much of it.  


There was an uncomfortable silence as I put the box up. I knew he had questions, but I knew he didn’t know if it was okay to ask them.


I heard the scrape of the chair move closer. “Your mother wanted to come with me to visit you,” he told me, “but I wanted her to let me come on my own. We don’t have too much time on our own anymore, do we Malania-chan?” It was so typical of my dad to never shorten my name. In fact, he made it longer with his Japanese term of endearment. We always teased him about it, but when he didn’t add to my name, I knew he was mad.


“No.” I shook my head. “Are you mad at me?” I asked him bravely.


He just smiled and shook his head but I could see tears filling his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a moment and composed himself. “I’m mad at me.”


“Why?” I wanted to know, feeling consumed by guilt for what I was putting my generally emotionally-stable father through.


“Because my sweet, sweet, little girl is in pain, something is wrong with her and I didn’t see and now you are hurt and I don’t know how to help.”


I began to cry, “Papa, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” I stopped myself before I could no longer speak. I was speaking lies anyway. I did mean to, I just didn’t want to hurt anyone and didn’t really think I would. It was heartbreaking to see that I was upsetting my family so much.


“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeated, quieting me, “don’t you apologise. You have nothing to feel bad about.”


No one was actually game enough to approach the issue head-on. My Daddy was a very gentle and calm man and I knew what happened to me had angered him, but more than that, he looked broken.


“…then why do I feel so bad?” I wondered out loud, looking to my empty hands. I hated the white bandage around my wrist. I knew it was a forever scar, I knew for the rest of my life people would be wondering what it was that pushed me to cause myself such harm.


“Darling, what can I do?” he asked, looking desperately sad, “what can I do that will make you happy?”


Nothing made me happy. I felt stuck in an abyss of loneliness that nobody could understand. Everything seemed drab, stuck in a world that was just grey, there was no colour left in anything. My life had always been one of vibrance and colour and happiness, joy and everything that should have filled a teenager’s life.


Now, nothing.


“I don’t know. I don’t want to be sad, I don’t want to upset you or Mama, but… I can’t help the way I feel.”


“I know, I know…” he covered my hand with his.


“I want to come home,” I admitted, “I know I made a stupid mistake, Papa, I learned my lesson.”


“I know, but we want you to make sure you get the help you need. We can bring the things to you that you need to be more comfortable,” he broke it to me gently as he looked around the baron, stark, sterile hospital room.


His words cemented the fact that I would be there longer than I ever anticipated.


“How long are you making me stay here?” I asked trying not to feel betrayed or abandoned.


“Just until you are better, Malania-chan.”


I breathed in deeply and sighed. “Daddy,” I rarely called him that, but I was feeling particularly regressed, like a lost little girl, “I didn’t want to wake up,” I admitted heavily. The words had been burdening me ever since I had been moved to the psych ward, I wanted to tell someone, as much as I didn’t want to burden anyone else with it, I couldn’t let it weigh me down.


He tried so hard to hide his heartbreak. He blinked back his tears, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. I knew my father would have preferred my honesty over the saving of his feelings.


“You are my last born child, Malania-chan, I have such a special place for you in my heart. I cannot allow you to take this gift of life that we have given to you, that you have given to us and just throw it away. Nothing could ever be that bad.”


He just didn’t know the extent of it. My life was already lost. I wasn’t living, I was existing and I was so numb. I felt nothing, just a whole existence of nothingness. No happy, no sad, no up, and no down. I was done with it all.


“How do I make it feel normal again?” I asked him, begging for an answer. For so long I’d been hearing people telling me to cheer up or to smile. My sister found me crying so often and began to grow frustrated. In the end, she stopped reaching out to me.


“I don’t know, my darling. I think it will take some time and you have to try, you can’t get better if you don’t take the help that the doctors are trying to give you,” he murmured.


I could have pulled my hair out. I was so frustrated with everything. I hated that I’d not been careful enough and that I’d put myself in a predicament where just about everyone knew my secret.


“I heard that you wouldn’t speak to the psychologist earlier, he just wants to help.”


“I don’t want to talk to a man.”


Dad gave a chuckle, “what am I to you then?”


“You’re my Papa, its different.”


He just smiled, “I’ll get you a different psychologist; a female, how does that sound? I will make her a little bit younger, maybe you’ll feel more comfortable.”


“Okay,” I mumbled meekly.


“Tonight I will bring your Mama, Samuel, Kaito and Anica.”


I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to see my brothers, Daddy, please. Just Anica and Mama.”


He cocked his head and gave me a reproachful look. He frowned unhappily at me. “Darling,” he warned, “your brothers want to see you to make sure you are okay.”


“No, I won’t see them,” I told him, my defences rising, feeling suddenly angry, “don’t make me see them.”


“Okay, okay,” he relented, “just your Mama and Anica,” he agreed.


I knew he was wrapping up our visit. I knew he wanted to go away and grieve for the things that I’d told him, for the stress I’d created and some rest from his trip. I knew he must have come almost straight of the plane to see me.


“Did you want me to bring you some things from home?”


I shrugged. I didn’t care.


“I’ll bring you some art supplies and you can paint or draw something for me,” he smiled. I knew he was trying to encourage me and give me purpose, but really, I had nothing left inside of me to give.


“Okay,” I just decided to be agreeable. It worked well for my family.


We said our goodbyes. As he was leaving the room he stopped and turned back to me, “Malania-chan, there is a special gift for you inside of that box. I trust you will undo the puzzle.”


It made me smile.


After he left, I lay in the silence of my room. I stared at the wall as I listened to nurses and doctors having conversations in the hallway. My eyes were drawn to the box and soon enough curiosity got the better of me. I lifted myself up out of bed and picked up the box again.


I fingered the patterns, running my fingers all over the coloured grooves and crevices. I began to inspect the panelling for hints as to how it would open. I moved little parts back and forth and frowned with frustration. It was going to be difficult.


I worked on it for more than an hour. A nurse came to check on me and even sat with me offering suggestions. It helped slightly but after a short time I think she realised she was frustrating me.


I loved the challenge and the craftsmanship of the box so much that it never made me frustrated for too long. It was all part of the fun with the added incentive of a gift inside.


Dinner was just being served when finally I popped it open. My eyes nearly jumped out of my head when I found the beautiful, silver and red Sony Walkman inside along with a copy of Michael Jackson’s Thriller.



My Dad was single-handedly responsible for my recovery.

End Notes:

 

Chapter 12 by SkyWriter

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve: Just Call My Name….

 

“Mama, come in here…” I whispered. It was very early morning and I couldn’t seem to sleep. I woke up around 5 after getting home from Encino after 1am and slept for a little.

 

I heard Mama come past my room to check in that I’d gotten home okay.

 

Draga, you’re awake…” she whispered in the darkness. I reached up and switched my bedside lamp on and gave a yawn. My mother came in and closed the door behind her so that she didn’t wake my father up.

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” I admitted as I watched her make her way over to my bed in her long blue nightshirt.

 

“How was your night?” she asked me. I couldn’t help but give her a huge grin. She knew immediately that I had seen Michael.

 

“Mama, you can’t tell a soul,” I told her pressing my finger to my lips, “not even Daddy, not yet…”

 

“What happened today my beautiful?” she asked me. I patted the empty spot on my bed beside me and grinned as my Mama got in beside me. I knew she was excited if not a little bit worried for me.

 

“I spent the evening with Michael,” I told her, “we talked for about three or so hours and he gave me a gift, Mama, look…” I sat up a little and lifted the painting from beside my bed.

 

My Mama loved it, she grinned for me and was happy that I was happy too.

 

“What is he like? Is he a nice man?” she wondered.

 

“He is lovely, Mama. We talked about a lot of things. He gave me this painting just because he noticed I liked it.”

 

“I can tell you are so happy, draga, but you need to be careful. He has a lot of things going on in his life, I do not want you to get consumed in it,” she told me gently. I knew she was looking out for me, but her negativity dampened things.

 

“I know Mama, its okay. I’ll be careful I promise. I think he just needs a friend.”

 

“Okay my sweet,” she just smiled, knowing that she was teetering on the edge of upsetting my happiness.

 

“He invited me to spend some time with him again tonight, but he was doesn’t want the press to see me so he’s going to send a car service to pick me up.”

 

Instantly my mother rose an eyebrow, “šećeru…” she began, “you must wonder why he doesn’t want the media to see you, is he embarrassed of you?”

 

“Mama, no!” I snapped, “its because right now they are doing anything and everything to get some kind of scoop on him. If they see a girl coming and going, a fan, much less, they are going to start trying to find out who I am and they’ll end up at our door. He is trying to protect me.”

 

“Please be careful, Malania, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

I breathed in a deep breath, “Mama, don’t… please just be happy for me. I’m twenty-two, I can look after myself.”

 

“Okay, okay,” I was glad I didn’t ask her to leave after taking a piss all over my parade. Instead she got up and left me to it. I lay for a few moments in my dimly lit room. My eyes fell on to my small tower of Hakone Zaiku boxes that I’d collected over the years. I suddenly had an idea.

 

I got up and picked up my most favourite and cherished one. It was the one my father had given me during my stay in the hospital back when I was 16. I was a professional at opening it now. I sat on the edge of my bed and began to manipulate it until I got it open.

 

I gazed inside the empty box. I thought for a few moments before I got up, setting the box down. I wasn’t sure I was ready to be so honest, but I figured that it might help him.

 

I sat down at my desk, turning the desk light on. I took out my fountain pen and a clean, fresh white piece of paper and wrote a draft of all the things that were in my heart.

 

Since my break down as a teenager, I had decidedly built walls around my life. I was close with my Mama, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who liked to know bad things. She was deeply religious and believed the answer to all evil was to pray it away. She didn’t want to believe that her children had problems. She lived in denial about Samuel and adopted a ‘hate the sin, not the sinner’ approach to him.

 

Whereas me? I hated my brother. There was no hatred inside me that could properly reflect my feelings for him. Of course, my mother hated to hear that, my Dad tried to protect me and since he had been home, vowed to never speak to him again. My mother, on the other hand, would never make any such promise.

 

For those reasons, there were certain parts of me that I needed to keep well-hidden from my mother, I liked to feel like I was protecting her. I still hadn’t told a single soul about the catalyst to my breakdown. I’d gotten through the therapy with them probably knowing and asking all the right questions, but me never actually saying the words out loud.

 

I used Michael’s presence in my life as a perfect distraction from getting hurt, from catapulting myself in to a normal existence of college friends, dating and more.

 

I wanted a friend, a real friend. I wanted to spend my time with someone who wouldn’t freak out if I told them my secret. A friend who, when I told them my secret they would keep it between us for the rest of our lives even if our friendship expired.

 

I wondered if that would ever be Michael. Even if our friendship only lasted as long as he needed, I knew it would be enough. I wanted to show him that I knew pain, especially the kind of pain he was dabbling in. I wanted him to know that I knew about his secrets, the ones he didn’t want anyone to know. Maybe I was wrong, maybe he hadn’t been harming, but if he had, I wanted him to know that I understood and that he didn’t have to be alone.

 

I put my pen to paper.

 

I call this my secret box, because besides my Papa, no one else could ever figure out how to open it – or at least had enough patience for it.

 

When I was 15 an awful thing happened to me. Well, a couple of awful things actually, but one thing in particular that set off something inside of me. On occasion I went to bed so angry with my situation that I forced my fingernails to pierce the skin of my palms to stop myself from screaming or crying and upsetting my crying. It gave me some little bit of reprieve from the pain and sadness that was encumbering me.

 

I began to withdraw. I wanted to be alone and developed an almost-immediate fear of people and wanted to be alone all of the time.

 

My sister was very concerned for me. She used to lay beside me at night and try to console me and tell me everything would be alright. She would continually ask me what happened, but I could never tell her.

 

My Mama and Dad and teachers grew so worried that they sent me to counselling which made me angry and aggressive. I don’t really know how to explain the kind of darkness that enshrouded me, Michael, but my heart was on fire as well as being frosted over. My brain was fuzzy and all of the anger that I felt was making it hard for me to breathe normally and the very part that made me want to explode was the fact that no one would have ever been able to understand.

 

Sometimes I would lay in the bathtub and hold my breath underwater and see if that would take some of the pain away. Sometimes I would dare myself to try to breathe but unfortunately I never had that kind of courage.

 

I didn’t know how to make the pain go away, so I began using a razor to make tiny little cuts in to my skin. I’d begin to hyperventilate the second I saw blood, it was a strange but very satisfying form of release. I continued doing that for awhile and began to start doing it on my wrists when I ran out of space. It was a kind of blood lust that demanded more extremity with each little cut.

 

Eventually I made a mistake and cut too deeply and ended up in a psychiatric ward for around a month. I went through all the right therapies and sometimes it helped, but I still never betrayed myself and shared my secret.

 

While I was on the psych hold, my Dad bought me this box. He placed a special gift inside of it. That gift was my very first cassette tape, Thriller. He introduced me to you. I don’t like to put any weight on anyone else’s shoulders, but I used you as a distraction and probably have done so for the past six or so years, Michael, I feel like you had a very instrumental part in my healing.

 

I want to be there for you. I already know your secret, I saw it for myself and I know its forward of me, but I want to be the friend to you that I never had. I don’t want to be like any of the people who have ever wronged you. I don’t want anything from you, I just want to be there for you; a hand to hold, someone to trust when there’s no one, someone to laugh with when you need a laugh and if it comes to it – someone to cry on.

 

I am an expert at building walls around myself, I know you must be too. I am always here, no questions asked.

 

Malania.

 

I was surprised by just how easily those words bled from the ink on to the paper. I didn’t need it to be the draft. It was my final. I put it inside the box and began to seal it all back up, feeling a bit pleased with myself.

 

And now I had to wait the agonising day out until I got to see Michael again.

 

I got up early and had some breakfast and went for a walk around the neighbourhood for awhile. When my Dad got up, he offered to take me for coffee, having not really seen me since he’d gotten home the day before.

 

As soon as I was convinced Mama was okay and that she’d told Daddy the story with Samuel, I’d shot off in my car.

 

I think he wanted to know the situation without the emotions of my mother. “You drive,” he told me, nodding toward my Honda that was behind his car. Our drive was a little silent and uncomfortable with a bit of tension hanging in the air that I couldn’t really put my finger on.

 

We chose a cute little café that we’d been to before. We ordered and found a private booth and sat down. “How was your trip?” I asked him, “sorry I didn’t really ask yesterday.”

 

“It was good… how was yours?” he asked, smiling. He hadn’t seen me in a long time because I’d been away with Beth.

 

I shrugged. He had obviously heard what had happened. “It was fine,” I didn’t like to get in to too much detail.

 

“Sweetheart, you must be very sad about what’s happening to Michael?” he gently probed me.

 

I shrugged, “Of course I am,” he was on the money. In the time that I wasn’t obsessing over my new found friendship, I was concerned about what might happen to him as a result.

 

“You don’t seem too sad, I was worried about you when I heard the news.”

 

“Don’t worry, Papa, I’m not going to cut my wrists again,” I joked but then as soon as the words left my lips, I knew they it was the wrong thing to say.

 

“Don’t, Malania,” he said staring at me a little irritated, “that isn’t a joke.” I already knew he was irate, he hadn’t added to my name. I felt bad.

 

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled sheepishly. Interrupting us, the waitress brought us our coffees. We waited silently for her to leave.

 

“Malania, you broke my heart when you hurt yourself. All that anger, the tears, the fighting, the advocating—that took its toll on us, you know? Don’t you dare let me hear you make another joke about it.”

 

“And how many times do I have to tell you I’m sorry?” I asked him, feeling myself getting a little angry too, “and you tell me I don’t need to be sorry, but you can’t guilt me and continue telling me how hard it was for you when you obviously haven’t considered how hard it was for me!”

 

He was a very passive man for the most part. He didn’t like raised voices. He stared at me for a few moments and I stared back until I felt my eyes filling with tears. I was probably highly strung because of what I’d recognised in Michael. I hated always feeling sorry for what I had done when really, they should have been sorry for not protecting me. They should have been sorry for the years of torture my brother inflicted on me as a result of what I’d done.

 

Really, I wasn’t sorry. The only thing I’d been sorry about was not succeeding.

 

He tried to reach for my hand but I was done. I had already emotionally shut down.

 

“Malania-chan, I know all this has something to do with your brother. I’ve been trying all these years to figure out why you did this and the only thing I can connect is the hatred you have for your brother that wasn’t there to the same extent.”

 

I knew darkness instantly clouded me whenever he was mentioned. “I don’t want to talk about it, its over, Dad, it happened, what? 6 years ago? Forget it. I just won’t have my adult brother coming in to my safe space and abusing me. If Mama lets him back inside any one single time, I am leaving and I hope you know that I mean it.”

 

“Your brother won’t hurt you again. You have my word.”

 

I wanted to believe him, but I didn’t entirely. Keeping Samuel away from me hadn’t always been their strongest part of their parental skill-set.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Your mother told me about your visit with Michael,” he admitted almost out of nowhere. My eyes widened with shock.

 

“What! Are you kidding me, she promised not to tell anyone, jeez, I bet she told Anica too…” I was so angry.

 

“No, no, no sweetheart, why are you so angry, why do you have to keep things from me? Did you think I’d be mad?” he asked, trying to calm me down.

 

“Because I didn’t want to tell anyone. It was my secret to share, not hers! I can’t believe this, never again, nothing is sacred is it?” Perhaps I was overreacting, but I hated that she had looked me in the eye and promised me.

 

“We are married, we share everything. She told me because she was concerned and because I demanded to know where you were last night.”

 

“I’m a big girl. I don’t need to answer to you both,” I told him petulantly folding my arms and ignoring my coffee.

 

My Dad was trying to stay relaxed, “I won’t share your secret with anyone, sweetie, but I wanted to talk to you about it all because this is a big deal.”

 

“No, its not!” I told him, “Do you know how many times I have met Michael over this past two months? He knew me by name, Papa, when I went to his parent’s house, he recognised me by my voice. You shouldn’t be all that surprised.”

 

I knew what my parents viewed being as being a fan was very different to what it actually was. I knew they believed it was a a very one-sided affair, and maybe it was with other celebrities, but not to Michael. His fans were his friends in a kind of way.

 

“I am just worried that with everything going on in his life right now, you might get hurt.”

 

“I won’t get hurt. I have no expectations and nor does he. He is a very nice man, Dad, take away the entertainment and the money and the fame, he’s lovely. You’d like him, so just relax.” I made sure my voice was a very soft hush.

 

“I don’t want him to force my baby girl in to doing anything she’d regret.”

 

I laughed. Funny how he was worried about someone doing that to me at this stage of my life.

 

“He is not a paedophile. He is not an abuser and he certainly wouldn’t be forcing me in to anything.”

 

My Dad held up his hands signalling defeat. He was sick of arguing. I was sick of trying to justify myself.

 

I just couldn’t wait to get out of such a suffocating environment.

 

**

 

The car had arrived as promised at 5pm. I felt a bit nervous. I carried a bag with me and kissed my Mama goodbye. I was nervous about being alone in a car with a random driver for over an hour but I had thrown a book in my bag.

 

It was a beautiful black Mercedes with the windows so heavily tinted that I wasn’t even able to see on the inside. A man got out and I began to feel very nervous. I had all types of anxieties about being alone with strange men.

 

He gave me a smile that appeared more like a smirk. “Malania, correct?” he asked.

 

I nodded politely. He opened up the back door for me, “I’m Fred, its nice to meet you.”

 

“You too,” I smiled, giving him a little nod. I placed my bag inside the car and got in. I was basically trusting this person and trusting Michael. The second the car door shut, I knew there was no going back. I had to trust him, I had to trust that this person driving was someone that Michael trusted and that I would arrive safely to our destination.

 

“We aren’t going to be going to Hayvenhurst tonight,” he told me, sparking my fears alight as the car began moving. He made eye contact in the rear-view mirror.

 

“What? Wait, no, Michael is at Encino.”

 

Fred shook his head. He was a tall, silver-haired friendly looking man, but looks meant nothing to me, “no, he left today. I am going to be taking you to the other location.”

 

I didn’t say anything. I tried to keep my irrational anxiety at bay. I had to tell myself that we weren’t going to end up on a back road somewhere. That he wasn’t going to turn out to be some evil mastermind who would trick his boss, Michael in to letting him work for him, only to defile some female friends he has been sent to pick up.

 

Don’t be an idiot, you can trust Michael.

 

Can I? Yes you can.

 

Just because Michael is a celebrity, doesn’t make him totally innocent person. What if the-

 

Shut the fuck up you psycho, its anxiety, you’re okay. This man isn’t going to harm you, he is going to take you to see Michael to save you having to make the ridiculous drive yourself.

 

“Ms. Malania?”

 

I looked up, startled by the voice, “Sorry, what did you say?”

 

“I said Michael is going to meet us at Neverland, is that going to be alright?”

 

“Oh,” I looked up to meet his eyes briefly in the rear view mirror and gave a little nod, “sure okay.”

 

I talked myself through an irrational panic attack and seemed to calm down as we settled in to the trip. I gripped my bag in my arms, wondering if the box was such a good idea. Maybe he’d think it was too ‘fan’, I wasn’t sure, but it was probably too late to back out now.

 

**

 

Whatever awe I’d felt as I made my way in to Hayvenhurst for the first time was nothing quite like Neverland. I was are Michael had planned his property himself and it was exactly how I’d imagined it to be.

 

It was whimsical, startlingly beautiful and full of colour. Though, like me in my hard times, the evil ways of the world had stolen that colour from him.

 

It was dark and as much as I hated to admit it, the two hour drive had left me a little bit sleepy. Fred told me that Michael was waiting for me inside the house. He dropped me off by the steps. There were two narrow stair cases that bordered a life-sized, working garden clock.

 

I was amazed. I smiled to myself as I carried my bag up the stairs with me. I knocked gently on the door.

 

I heard footsteps coming toward it and before soon, Michael opened it. He was looking a tiny bit healthier. At least he wasn’t wearing pajama pants. He wore a pair of black trousers and a red button down top. I’d seen him wearing something similar many times. His hair was pulled back in to a little pony tail.

 

“Hi Michael,” I greeted him.

 

“Hi Malania,” he smiled making my knees weaken just a tiny bit. I was glad he initiated a hug because I wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t an awkward thing to do.

 

He held the door open and gestured for me to come inside. “Just for the record,” he began, “my house is a mess to say the least. We are still in the midst of cleaning it up from the raid.”

 

My heart sank a tiny bit when I realised that their damage didn’t only extend itself to him. They took a shot at ruining his home too.

 

It was a mess. There were areas that had been cleaned up and tidied, but I walked past a few rooms that looked as though he’d been living in squalor. The room that he directed me to was a dining room with a large open-planned kitchen attached.

 

“I was thinking,” he began, “we could have something to eat and watch a movie, is that okay?”

 

I nodded, “Yeah sure that’s fine.” I would have been satisfied to see him eat something.

 

He went to the refrigerator and offered me a fruit juice. He pulled out a plate of assorted sandwiches that he obviously hadn’t made himself. It was the second time this man tried to feed me sandwiches.

 

“Sandwiches okay?” he asked, “or… there’s some soup, its just vegetable.”

 

Sandwiches were fine with me. I wasn’t overly hungry, just nervous from my anxiety taking over almost the entire trip until I actually realised where we were headed.

 

He got me a drink and led me to the table where we sat. So far, I’d spoken perhaps two sentences. I was not on my game.

 

After the coffee with my father in the morning, I’d felt sadness and anger toward them all over again. I felt angry with my mother for betraying my trust and with my father for making all the guilt that I’d since pushed below the surface bubble over again.

 

I didn’t speak a single word to either of them the entire day, save for yelling out when I was leaving.

 

“Whats the matter?” he asked, “is it okay that you came here instead of to Encino?” he wondered, realising something was wrong with me.

 

“Everything is okay,” I gave him a smile to reassure him, “I’ve just had a rough day, but I’m fine.”

 

“Really?” he asked, handing me a small plate for the sandwiches. He took one from the plate and began dissecting it, “tell me?”

 

I didn’t want to tell him. I tried to think of something to make up. He wasn’t looking me in the eye with that stare that sometimes shook me up inside. Instead he was breaking apart some brown bread, deciding whether or not to put it in his mouth.

 

“I just had a silly fight with my Dad this morning, nothing serious,” I replied, trying to keep things casual.

 

“Over me?” he asked, finally plopping a small bit of bread in his mouth. I could tell it was hard for him to chew and swallow, but he did and a little part inside of me cheered him on.

 

“No,” I chuckled, “not everything is about you.”

 

He chuckled too, “Sorry, that was kind of conceited of me, wasn’t it?”

 

I shook my head and took an egg and lettuce sandwich for myself. “So, if not about me, then what?”

 

I considered telling him. I just shrugged, “my parents love to dredge up the past sometimes and try to use it as a cautionary tale…” I sighed, “it doesn’t matter, how are you?”

 

“I’m good. I met with my attorney this morning and they gave me some new details about the case and I’m feeling a bit more confident… but I still am a bit confused as to the hows and whys of the accusation.”

 

“I know she was your friend and you loved her and all of that, but you have to be mad, steaming, furiously mad on the inside.”

 

He put the rest of the sandwich quarter down and lost himself for a moment in thought. “I’m mad because she isn’t giving me an explanation. I’d be happy if I knew if that she truly believes this happened to her daughter, over trying to manipulate me for money or to get back at me for stupid things.”

 

“That sucks, I’m sorry…” I murmured, not knowing what else to say. What could I say?

 

“Well, today I decided to come back here. The media still think I’m at my parents,” he smiled, happy about that.

 

“How come you decided to come back here?” I wondered curiously.

 

He shrugged, “because its my house and damned if I’m going to let someone ruin my house for me as well as my life.” There was definitely bitterness in his tone.

 

I watched him eat the rest of his sandwich and didn’t say much else. . “I’m glad you’re eating something, I was worried when you said you hadn’t been able to,” I remarked.

 

“I guess… I don’t want them to win,” he murmured. He glanced at me, “why aren’t you eating?”

 

“Not hungry right now.” I replied. I wished I could kick the feeling that I had, it was negative and dark and was a general reflection of the day. I didn’t really want to keep the attention on me though, “won’t you get lonely here on your own?”

 

He shrugged, “I was lonely at my parents house too. My Mother can be overbearing when she’s worried.”

 

I chuckled, “Yeah, I hear that,” I replied, “My Mama and Dad can be way over the top. And you’re like me, almost the youngest child…”

 

“They think I’m the most delicate, that’s for sure.” Michael agreed.

 

We definitely had that in common.

 

“What are your siblings like?” I asked him, “are they the unintentional jerks they make themselves out to be or…?”

 

He laughed, he definitely liked that. “See, not a lot of people can see through them, I like that you can.”

 

I laughed too, “Come on, how can you not see through Jermaine posing as your personal spokesperson, LaToya saying crazy stupid things and the others talking about how you’re in a fragile state but you’re OK?”

 

“Well… whatever is sensational people will believe, I suppose,” Michael replied, “to be truthful, they’re not all awful, most of my brothers and sisters have good intentions. I am very sad about LaToya, we used to be very close but… the man she’s married to, I believe he’s leading her to say those things.”

 

Despite his kindness toward them, I still got the feeling he didn’t want a bar of them.

 

He finished off his sandwich and I swallowed the very little bit I had left of mine.

 

“Come on, lets go watch a movie…” he urged me, “I’ll show you around the places of my house that hasn’t yet been ruined.”

 

He said it like it was nothing, like it was everyday the police ransacked your home looking for evidence.

 

I shook my head to myself and got up off of my chair to follow him.

Chapter 13 by SkyWriter

Chapter Thirteen: I pray this punishment would have mercy on me.

I was starting to get the feeling that Malania didn’t have the perfectly wonderful life that initially fit my impressions.

Something was bothering her, she was not herself. Since her first visit with me, I found that she was incredibly caring, sweet and polite and obviously she was cute as hell. I liked her company, she wasn’t overbearing, she didn’t ask stupid questions and she didn’t make me feel super human.

She had turned up to visit me in a completely different headspace though and I was confused. She had barely spoken all night. On one hand that suited me just fine because I wasn’t overly talkative and just having another person present helped me. On the other hand, I wanted to get to know her and my curious nature really wanted to break down the walls that I’d began to realise were built around her.

I wasn’t sure if I liked Malania a lot or if I missed the company. I didn’t allow myself to read too much in to it at this point. I had too many other things fizzing around in my brain.

My mother had begged me not to go back to Neverland, but I didn’t want to stay at Hayvenhurst with the media crowding and waiting for me to come out. I knew enough time had passed for them to realise that there was probably no way I’d come back home, so it was safe to be there.

Also, my own privacy was important. I was sick of having family turn up and trying to see me when I wasn’t in the mood. For whatever reason, my Mom could never say no to Jermaine and he was the one I wanted to see the very least.

Malania sat with her hands folded in her lap. She stared at the TV but I caught her looking around the room once every often so I was convinced that she probably wasn’t paying much attention. I excused myself to go to the bathroom for a moment. My head was absolutely aching and seemed like it had been for almost a week. I looked around in my bathroom and found a few pills. I was sure I needed something a bit stronger, but I took a couple of aspirin and made my way back.

When I arrived back, she was slouching to the left in the large, red leather bucket couch. She was resting her head on her arm, staring straight through the television screen. I didn’t know what it was about.

I sank back down beside her. She barely looked up as I remerged in to the room. I supposed that she was bored. I didn’t really feel like talking about me, I’d done so much talking about myself to myself that I was a bit over it.

“Hey,” I gently touched her arm. She almost jumped a mile. I’d obviously interrupted her thoughts. “I’m sorry,” I apologised with a smile.

“Sorry,” she said too.

“Whats the matter, you look miserable, is this boring? We don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to.” I was a people pleaser. I didn’t want to be boring the crap out of this girl.

“Its okay,” she replied, straightening up a little bit.

I was kind of relieved that she was very calm in my presence. The first time I had invited her in, I had sensed her nervousness and excitement but I think she had composed herself the night before, and tonight? I was pretty much a regular person.

I’m sure it was kind of surreal to her.

“Can I get you something?” I asked.

She shook her head and tried to give me a smile but there was something behind it. I captured a glimpse of the bruise I had spied the night before below her eye and wondered about it. I knew obviously someone had caused it. If something had caused it, she wouldn’t have been so quick to change the subject.

“Would you like to take a walk outside? I could show you around, I’ll have the lights switched on, it’ll be beautiful and peaceful.”

That idea seemed to pique her interest. “Come on, who doesn’t love a good walk?”

“Okay, sure,” she agreed. I waited for her to get up. I turned the television off and surveyed her standing ready to follow me with her. She was wearing a pair of red jeans and a long black tshirt. She looked so good in casual clothes. I thought there was something very attractive about her ability to look beautiful in casual. She wore a gold medallion around her neck that I made a mental note to ask her about.

“I’ll have to grab my cardigan,” she told me as we headed downstairs. Her pull over and bag was down by the front door where I had hung them up for her.

We went down. I grabbed it from the hat rack and held it out for her. She gratefully put her arms through the sleeves and adjusted it. Her hair was tied back. I noticed she had a nervous habit of taking it out and putting it back up. It was jet black hair that had a slight wave in it, and if it were possible, even when it was a bit untidy it looked as though it was exactly in the place that she wanted it to be.

I wished my hair would do that.

I took down my letterman jacket that my nephews had given to me as a gift and shrugged it over my shoulders. I knew it was pretty chilly outside.

I opened the door and gestured her to go first. “Here,” I held out my hand as we descended the stairs by the front stoop. I saw a flash of a smile as I helped her down the stairs. As we reached the bottom, I felt her hand slowly, and probably reluctantly withdraw from mine.

“Oh drats, hold that thought for one moment,” I remembered something, “give me one sec, I’m just going inside by the door.”

“Yeah right,” she laughed with good humour, “this is your way of kicking me out without having to do the dirty work.”

I laughed too as we obviously both saw the same scenario play out in our imaginations. I quickly ducked up the stairs to the phone by the door. I left it open so Malania could still see me, reassuring her that I wasn’t going to strand her out the front.

I made a quick phone call to the security shack who were in charge of all the controls. I made a small request and hung up and went back downstairs to meet her.

“Okay, that’s better,” within about thirty seconds, Neverland lit up. All of the lights and the speaker systems went on. I knew she was impressed, her eyes widened as the path that we were about to set upon lit up similar to a yellow brick road.

“Wow, this is really… so…” she looked around at all the different attractions. There were some rides over upon our far left and to the right, a picnic area. Straight ahead was a pool and an in ground trampoline and much farther behind that was the zoo. Well, what was slowly becoming a zoo.

Originally I had placed the trampoline in the ground for Casey. We were afraid of her falling off one, the in ground one had its own pitfalls, but it seemed to be less dangerous for her.

“Michael, this is beautiful…”

“Thank you… Its still a work in progress…” I almost halted my sentence. I still dealt with day-to-day life, but my future freedom was uncertain. I tried not to think about it but it was always niggling at me. “Which way, left or right? Left I can show you down to the lake area or on the right will take us to a more woodsy-type area, your pick.”

“Lake,” she pointed to the left. We set off down the lit path, strolling quietly and thoughtfully. She had pulled her sleeves over her hands as I noticed she’d had a habit of doing. I, on the other hand, jammed my hands in to the pockets of the jacket I had put on at the door.

There was silence, not necessarily uncomfortable silence, but one that was bothering me a little bit. I started to think that maybe I was wrong about her, maybe there was no deeper side of her. Maybe we weren’t meant to connect. The first night we had chatted, there was an inexplicable part of me that felt a deep connection with her, but maybe it was just that I’d needed a friend and was slightly or completely emotionally unstable.

I wasn’t sure if it were shyness, melancholy or some sort of personal issue that was keeping her wound up so much, but I didn’t really like it and I wasn’t used to it. Most people, fans mostly, loved to vent their worldly problems to me. There was a part of me that both loved and hated it. I loved that to hear about other people’s journeys in life, but at the same token, a lot of responsibility to make others happy had been placed upon my shoulders – and mostly unknowingly.

I was the friend that most came to when they needed someone to hear them out, when they needed to cry – I was a good listener, I said all the right things and knew how to support someone in need. However, on a day like today, none of those so-called friends were to be found.

“I don’t want to keep pushing the issue, but… is everything alright? You’ve hardly said a word.”

“Yes, everything is alright. I’m sorry if I’m a bit quiet. I guess this is a bit surreal for me,” she murmured, but I knew she wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“You know, I know I have stuff going on here, but… if you want to tell me anything, it can stay between us,” I urged her. It was my last ditch effort. If it was really nothing, then really I would have been led to believe my suspicions were right, there was probably no connection between us.

She said nothing for a few moments. Finally she opened her mouth to say something but she closed it again.

“Go ahead,” I urged her, “you were about to say something…”

“My brother did this…” she blurted out at last. I looked at her and saw that she was pointing at her head.

I tried not to react too quickly, but rather, I waited for her to continue.

“He is just the source of every evil in my life… and I love my parents so much, we are so close but… they just don’t know how to keep him from the house…me, really,” she admitted, breathing a little shaky sigh.

I suspected that she had never dared admit that to anyone out loud. I was concerned for her safety, immediately. “Is this like a one off thing or…?”

She shook her head. The whole time she never looked up at me, she never dared even throw a glance my way. I could see she was shaking, even letting the words out of her mouth. I felt for her.

“Why you? I mean, what’s his justification?”

She shrugged, “I know that I’m the baby of the family and my Mama paid me extra attention because she was told she couldn’t have any more children after me. My eldest brother has always been particularly mean to me, I don’t really know why… but when I became a teenager…”

“He got worse?”

“Yeah... and now he’s married, he has two kids but he’s totally made a mess of it. He has gambling issues, he’s just crazy.”

“I’m sorry Malania…” I murmured, “are you safe at home?”

“My Papa- my father, he promised me today that he would keep me safe from him, but… if history is anything to go by, I don’t exactly trust his word. When this happened,” she pointed to her eye, “he was so aggressive, he literally ripped me out of bed and started beating me. My Mama tried to help and he knocked her out of the way so for the first time I fought back.”

“Oh no…” I expected her story to get worse.

“I was lucky, he wasn’t expecting it. I was so furious over him hurting my Mom. When he was keeled over holding his crotch, I made my Mama get in the car and I forced her to come to the police with me…”

“Oh thank God… and so what’s the story now?” I asked. She finally managed to look at me.

“He isn’t allowed to come near me. My Mama refused to make a statement. She’s lucky my love outweighs my anger and frustration with her.”

“You know…” I began, “people know about my father being abusive toward me, but… there’s a part of society that would look upon it as me being a bit dramatic – or that its just the way it was back when I was a child, you know, being strict with your kids sometimes meant beatings…”

“Bullshit.” Malania cursed. I almost laughed because it sounded so ridiculous coming from her sweet and almost husky voice.

“I can relate to you a little bit on that level though,” I told her, “my father was pretty senseless when it came to getting beaten, or disciplined.

“Did he beat you a lot?” she asked curiously.

I shrugged, “Sometimes and sometimes not. He did it a lot less the older I became and the more successful I’d become. But he could beat the wind out of me and for the most stupid reasons…”

Malania shook her head. I noticed she’d become very agitated. She hugged herself from the cold as we got very close to the lake.

“I just don’t understand that kind of callousness,” she remarked. “Anyway, I’m sorry if I’ve been quiet and miserable. I just had that discussion with my Dad today and it just brought up a whole tidal wave of crap with it…”

“Don’t apologise… I was just starting to think it was me…” I smiled. I could tell that she was cold so I shed my jacket and placed it over her shoulders. She went to protest, but I insisted.

Eventually she made eye contact and smiled, “thanks, Michael…”

“So this is the lake…” I told her as we came to the water bed.

“Its really beautiful and peaceful, especially here in the dark… I love it so much, is it true you drew up the plans for this place yourself?” she asked me.

“Well, sort of… I knew what I wanted and how I wanted it to look, but I’m by no means an architect,” I chuckled.

She cocked her head to the side as if to tell me my joke wasn’t that funny. She had a way of cutting down my humour that didn’t feel nasty, but in a mock-superior way. It made me laugh even more.

“You’re very clever… but I’m sure you knew that. Someone who doesn’t know they’re clever couldn’t confidently walk out on a stage of a hundred thousand people and pull off the kind of show that you do…”

I just smiled, she did know how to cut me down in her not-so-subtle way, but she also knew how to fill my heart up, too, and that was important.

“That’s sweet…”

I gestured for her to take a seat on a stone bench by the river. The sounds surrounding us were ones of nature and the streaming of the water in front of us. I forgot how serene Neverland was and how nice it was to share it with someone else.

“You never answered my question before, I asked you if you were safe at home.” I remarked, “you’ve got a crafty way of getting around my questions.”

She chuckled, “You’re very nosey,” she nudged me gently. I couldn’t help smiling to myself in the dark.

“Yes, I am… now answer the question,” I insisted.

“I think I’m safe, yes. I promised my father, that if my mother takes pity on him, as she always does, and lets him back in to the house, I am gone. I’ll move out, I don’t even care about the circumstances.”

“You think your Mom would do that?” I asked. I watched her pull my letterman jacket around her tightly, obviously feeling the cold more than I did in the moment.

“My Mama is so religious, she doesn’t believe he’s inherently evil, she believes he needs love to cure him and while that’s sweet and wonderful and may very well be true, she also owes it to me to keep me safe.”

“I agree… If there’s anything that I can help with, let me know okay?” I told her.

She just nodded.

“I mean it, Malania, anything, if something happens and you have nowhere to go, come here and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

“Thanks Michael, but I’ve been dealing with this psycho my entire life, I’ll be okay,” she replied.

I took her word for it, though I didn’t know how reliable it was.

“What about you, how is your Dad now that you’re an adult?” she wondered. I liked that she wasn’t afraid to ask me questions that other people might have considered too personal.

“He’s okay, he’s been really good during this time actually. He’s always been good in a crisis, awful to deal with otherwise though,” I joked.

“Well at least its improved slightly.”

We sat for a bit longer. Malania seemed content and her mood had lifted a little since unloading. “Michael,” she began, “how are you really doing? I mean, I know how you feel about the family who are accusing you, but what about you?”

I considered her question. My first instinct was to tell her that I was okay, but it wasn’t true, I wasn’t okay. “Well… I don’t really know.”

“Come on, I just vented my right kidney, don’t make me feel like an emotional leech, be honest with me…” she pulled her hair out of its pony tail and dragged it all across over to one shoulder and fidgeted with her hands. I discovered quickly that it was her nervous habit.

“I feel everything,” I told her, deciding to do as she asked, taking a chance on this one random person who was extending herself to me, who I had, for some reason, continued to invite back to see me. “Anger, sadness, deep, deep loss, shame, humiliation, anxiety… I don’t really know how to pinpoint it.”

“How do you manage it? Like, what’s your coping mechanism like?” she continued.

I felt a stab of panic. She had questioned me the night before on a cut I’d made. I felt like she knew, because I too, had spied what I’d thought were scars on her wrists.

“I try to dance each morning if I have the energy. I try to think of the people who do have faith in me and that spurs me on.” I didn’t flinch.

“You seem too ‘okay’ with it all,” she remarked, “like this kind of thing happens all the time.”

“Well,” I drew in a deep breath and let it out, “I really don’t know what you want me to say to that, I don’t know if there’s a right way to deal with this, mostly I just want to be alone…”

“Don’t let me stand in the way…” she challenged me. I could see her raised eyebrow at me in the dim light from a lamp post a few feet away.

“You’re different, you’re not setting out to hurt me, I’m pretty sure you’re not here for financial gain,” I told her. It wasn’t entirely true. I asked to see her again because I’d discovered that she had scars too. Someone with scars would surely understand mine.

“Pffft,” she rolled her eyes, “my father is loaded, I don’t need your money,” she joked in a way that I wasn’t entirely sure if she was serious or not.

I just laughed. I was starting to get cold so I suggested that we head back to the house.

We went back to the kitchen where she had left another bag and had obviously forgotten about it from when we were having a snack. I wasn’t sure what it was, “oh when you leave, don’t forget this…” I picked it up to put it on the dining table.

“Oh…” she looked at it and hesitated. “Actually, its for you…”

“What? No, you brought me cakes last time…” I told her, “you can’t keep bringing me things.”

“Well… I wasn’t sure if its stupid or not and there’s a large part of me that thinks this is probably going to be the dumbest idea ever. Then the other part of me thinks you’ll probably never work it out anyway so who cares.”

I was confused.

“Right-o,” I went to use her last name but realised I didn’t know it, “hey, what is your last name?”

“Nakamura,” she replied as she took a seat at the dining room table. I was glad she obviously felt a bit freer since sharing her family incident. Her hair was back up and she was preoccupied by her bag. I took a seat too.

“Righto, Nakamura, make with the gift, I’m intrigued now.”

She laughed briefly but then made began to slide the item out of the bag. She paused and looked at me making strong eye contact. “Wait a second, you have to promise me something,” she began.

“Okay?” I grimaced mockingly causing her to give me another brief smile.

“This thing means a lot to me but I would like to give it to you, but you have to promise that you’ll take care of it and if you decide that you don’t care about it, you’ll give it back to me.”

“Okay, of course…”

She slid a wooden box out of the bag and slid it across the table to me. I didn’t get it at first.

“This box was given to me by my father when I was 16,” she explained, her almond shaped eyes were finally paying mine a lot of attention. I loved her smooth, low voice, it really sang to my ears. “It was bought from Japan and all those colours,” she ran her small hands across the top of it, “its all different types of wood… its worth a lot of money,” she added, “its called a Hakone Zaiku. It’s a mystery box, there’s something that I’ve put inside it for you.”

I looked at the box and back up at her, I felt a little moved that she would give something to me that obviously meant so much to her. I was unsure if it was the right thing to do, to take it. “Malania, maybe you should keep this,” I told her as I ran my hand across the surface of the wooden box. It was beautiful.

“Nope,” she shook her head and gave me a little smile. When I looked up at her again I could see her eyes were filling with tears.

“Oh no…” I murmured softly. I reached across the table and grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

She sniffed and nodded quickly before chuckling and apologising, “just take care of it…”

“Are you sure, if it is so important to you, why are you giving it to me?” I asked her gently.

“You’ll figure it out when you get it open. It will take you awhile and a lot of patience. Also, the distraction you’ll need for it will be good for you,” she explained.

“Thank you, I promise that I will keep it safe and put it in a place of honour in the house.” I told her meaningfully.

And then there was that look again, that sassy, gorgeous face cutting me down to size. “I don’t expect people to light a candle for it and kiss it upon arrival or anything, no need to sing songs to the Gods… just… don’t let anyone mess it up.”

I laughed, “you are so…”

“awesome,” she finished for me, smartly.

“You’re something.” I joked back, my tone dripped with sarcasm.

She laughed with me.

She explained to me exactly how the box worked and how it needed to be manipulated. I was still taken aback by how emotional she got over it. I knew it must have been precious for a reason so I decided that I would try my best to figure it out.

We talked for awhile longer until she began to grow tired. I called the car service again for her.

“Do you want to come hang out again soon?” I asked her.

“Yeah… that would be great but… how about you figure the box out first, then you can call me,” she suggested. She was obviously a lot more comfortable.

“Okay, leave me your number then, I’ll call you… maybe I’ll call you over the next few days just to say hello.”

“Great.”

I got her something to write on. She slowly and carefully printed her phone number on the paper. “Whatever you do, if my parents answer, don’t say its Michael, say your name is Peter.”

“Why? Who’s Peter?”

“A guy I used to be friends with in college who used to call to see how I was going, I couldn’t be bothered trying to explain that Michael Jackson is calling me.”

I laughed, “okay, Peter it is…” Before she left, I also bravely gave her my number. It was a direct extension. I didn’t bother telling her not to give it out, I was pretty sure she knew that by now.

After she left, I took the box upstairs with me to my room and spent a little while trying to work on the puzzles but I wasn’t in the right headspace. Instead, I went to the bathroom to take a codeine pill for my headache and went to bed, feeling a bit lighter with the new friendship that was blossoming.  

Chapter 14 by SkyWriter

Chapter 14:

If I needed one pill, I took two, if I needed two pills, I took three. I sent my guys on errands, pharmacy errands so that I could continue sleeping through the days. It was too hard, I hated being awake and alone and left with my thoughts.

It’d been two weeks since the accusation. My lawyer Gregory turned up to Neverland with an associate, Sharon Edgar. They were both nice people and believed in unequivocally in my innocence, but still it was hard for me to hear all the details.

In a way though, I was glad for them. At least I knew that what Diane was doing to me wasn’t because she wanted to hurt me or get back at me, but rather because she truly believed that her daughter was getting hurt. And maybe she was getting hurt, but I certainly wasn’t the one who was to blame.

I could barely keep my eyes open and was groggy and lethargic. I knew it had been from the two sleeping pills I’d taken the night before. I wasn’t really a coffee-drinking kinda guy, and I knew by own slurred speech and sluggish movement that getting up and having a shower wasn’t much going to help me.

And I was ashamed of it, but I didn’t really see it as much of a choice. I grabbed my change of clothes expecting that the lawyer would arrive in a short period of time and made my way in to the large, marble bathroom. I opened the cupboard beneath the sink and got to my knees slowly and carefully. If there’d been a pillow, I probably would have curled up in the bath and had another nap. Instead I rifled right to the back of the cupboard and found a bag of pills. They were hidden beneath a bag of disgusting old toiletries that had probably been there years longer than necessary.

I searched through the bag, squinting to see what was written on each pill. I remembered how the tiny blue pill looked. It was probably out of date by more than a year, but it was really all I had to work with. I had been given them by a stupid psychiatrist back around the time I’d been suicidal and had no desire to work or stay focused on anything for too long at a time. He suggested ‘something’ to help keep me on the ball. It helped, but it was also kind of addictive.

Luckily almost as quickly as I had taken them, I was able to stop because of the new love in my life; the love of Casey and her mother. The sadness wasn’t depression but rather a lack of love and true friendship.

But what now?

I internally knew that if there was a strong possibility of jail time, I’d have just wanted to kill myself and I would have committed myself to the idea one hundred and ten per-cent.

There was quite a little collection of those pills that I’d almost all but forgotten about. I hadn’t intended on ever taking them for their purpose at the time, but I knew from how they’d helped me zoom around with great motivation in the past, that I’d benefit from them in the sleepy, zombie-like state that I was currently in.

I got up and popped two pills on my tongue and turned on the faucet. I let the water gush out for a moment before cupping a handful in to my mouth to wash it down. I left the pills in the top cabinet where I could get to them easily.

I had a quick ten or so minute shower and got dressed and felt the pill beginning to take course.

It was amazing how Adderall made me feel. I remembered how quickly I had become focused the first time I’d ever taken it, almost super human. I wasn’t overly happy, but I was content to be productive which was something given how hard it was to be motivated.

I put all my clothes away and picked up my room a little almost as if the lawyers were going to come and check up on my cleaning skills. I went downstairs and cleaned up the kitchen from the night before when eaten a little bit of ice cream and left the dishes.

Normally the help fixed it all up, but I’d ordered mostly everyone to leave Neverland as immediately as the raid had happened. I didn’t mind doing the chores myself. I quickly and diligently washed my dishes and left them by the sink and then began to wipe down the benchtops which had some crumbs.

I saw the box that Malania had given me. It was on the dining table where I’d left it. I sat down and took another look at it. I started playing with it again, touching a few panels, knocking on them gently to see if they were more hollow than the other sides. The bottom area popped out, ah, I thought, that was at least one move out of the way.

Soon, I realised there was a pattern to the movements, but it was a game of trial and error. I lost time playing with it, but heard the doorbell go and left it there in the midst of opening.

I invited Greg and Sharon in. I picked up the box and moved it to the kitchen counter. I couldn’t sit still, I was very jittery and felt full of beans. I remembered the similar feeling. I got everyone a drink and zipped around the kitchen despite their constant gestures for me to take a seat.

“Michael, please, just sit down… we need to start talking,” Greg urged me. He was very patient with me, and Sharon didn’t really say a lot. Generally, I didn’t say much either but they couldn’t shut me up.

“Sorry, I’ll sit down,” I apologised, becoming very aware of what felt like a manic episode. I knew I needed to just try to calm down or else they might have been suspicious of my mania.

“Did you have much trouble getting in? I hope my guards down in the security shack were being kind today,” I remarked, pouring my guests a glass of water as per their request.

“They were fin-“

“I told them they didn’t need to call me to let me know you were coming in. Sometimes they can be so overbearing, but I realise given the situation, they are just trying to protect me, you know?”

“Yes Michael, we understand. They were no trouble,” Susan pitched in. I noticed her exchanging glances with Gregory.

“Good. They probably get that you guys are here for me, trying to sort this mess out before it escalates any worse than it already is!” I laughed sardonically, “as if that’s possible!”

They both smiled uncomfortably.

“Michael, sit.” Greg said again, this time a bit more firmly. “I know you’re nervous but its okay, just take a seat.”

I took a seat but I wasn’t nervous, I was full of energy and that mania that I had felt was being misplaced for happiness.

“Have you spoken to Diane’s lawyer?”

“Yes…and I’ll get to that but first, Michael tell us about the last time you saw Casey and Diane and what happened during that afternoon.”

“Okay.” I nodded, thinking briefly about it. I tried not to let myself get too caught up in emotions or memories, but it was hard. “They came to visit me on tour,” I told both of them, as I got back up out of my chair, I couldn’t seem to sit still. I paced back and forth, “I was in Hawaii as the last pit stop of the American leg. I wanted some time out and they came to stay for a week and on the last day, Di left Case with Larry and I while we did some tour stuff,” I explained, thinking of the day that was quite clear in my mind as it had only been around a month back.

“Please, go right ahead,” I told Diane with a smile, “you deserve it,” I added as I handed her the voucher. I was balancing the almost five-year-old on my hip.

“Are you sure?” Diane whined, “I feel so bad, I know how busy you are.”

I smiled, “Casey and I have this, don’t we baby heart? We’ll have fun doing jobs with Larry and seeing fans and things! You need to relax, you’re in Hawaii!” I grinned.

“Okay, okay, don’t push me out the door,” she laughed. She leaned forward and kissed Casey on the cheek. “Bye sweet heart, please be a good girl for Michael, okay?”

Casey nodded. She was always good for me. Diane turned to me and pressed her lips against mine, “thank you my big heart.”

I just smiled. Casey and I walked her out to the hotel hallway and waved to her as she disappeared down the corridor to the day spa that I had set up for her.

Larry walked inside and waved at Casey and handed me the run sheet of the day.

She had just finished her round of chemotherapy and was a little unwell, but more tired and grumpy than much else. We were pretty good with making sure that we kept her away from germs or anything that could compromise her health.

“I’m happy to see fans today, but no hugs or kisses, I can’t chance getting any germs and transferring them to Casey,” I told him strictly.

“Okay no problem, Mr Jackson,” Larry replied. I glanced at the sheet. We had to go to the venue and check out the staging and do a quick sound check and then I had a meet and greet. After the meet and greet I had a radio interview. I didn’t do those often but as a result of how happy my life felt, I was more comfortable speaking with others.

**

I looked at my lawyer and shrugged, “I guess I just got on with the day. Everywhere I went Casey came along. We went to sound check, I let her have a bash on Phil’s drums, I taught her how to test a mic, we met some fans…”

“Were you alone with her?” Susan cut in, “or were there people around you all day?”

I thought about it and shrugged, “Hmm, I’m pretty sure there was someone around, probably Larry…he was with us the entire day. Oh, except in the afternoon, Casey had fallen asleep in the car on the way back to the hotel and I carried her up to the room while Larry went to make some phone calls. I think she woke up and cried for Diane so I consoled her back to sleep and we lay on the couch and I watched TV. It wasn’t particularly the diabolical scheme that she’s making it seem.”

I was still pacing.

“What was Casey’s mood like, generally speaking?” Greg asked as they both furiously wrote notes.

“She was okay. Whiny for some parts of the day, but that generally happened when she was done with chemo. It takes a lot out of her. She had a huge tantrum when I had to sign autographs and meet a couple of people,” I shrugged and stopped for a moment, holding on to the back of the wooden chair, “but nothing unusual. When Diane got back we were still on the couch, both of us were asleep.”

I went to the kitchen and focused some energy on the box again while they continued writing their notes. They stopped harassing me to sit down and let me focus on what I was doing, I think they realised I needed to occupy my hands.

“Do you guys want something to eat? I don’t have much in the fridge, just some left over sandwiches, or some food in the cupboards.”

“Michael no, its fine.”

“Okay. Well what else can I help with?”

“Did Diane seem off when she picked up Casey? How was she toward you?”

“She was fine…” I paused wondering if I should be truthful. “She stayed in my suite together, so she didn’t leave my sight until the car took them to the airport later in the evening.”

“What was your relationship like with Diane?” Gregory asked. He turned his chair behind him to where I was standing on the other side of the counter, playing with the box. I focused all of my attention on clicking one part out. It opened up yet another bunch of mystery parts to play with.

“Michael?” he prompted me.

“Diane and I are good friends. Were good friends,” I corrected myself, not looking up from the very thing that was keeping me from losing my temper.

“Did you have a romantic relationship with her?” Greg pressed, putting his pen down.

I clicked another panel out of place and then another. I was kicking goals with this box, it wasn’t nearly as hard as Malania had made it out to be. I wasn’t sure if it were the questions all the Adderall but I could feel my heart beating throughout my entire body and getting especially loud in my ears.

“No, I didn’t,” I lied.

“Are you sure you want that to be your answer Michael?” Sharon butted in, “because we’ve spoken to your mother and she seems to think otherwise and you need to be the most honest you’ve ever been because this woman is going to share everything with the courts and we don’t want to be blind-sighted,” she was polite to me but stern and I found that to be a little rude.

I threw a glare at her. She looked so perfect with her stupid high, blonde bun, her pencil skirt and stupid silky blouse. I felt instant aggression toward her.

“You don’t speak to me with that tone in my home,” I told her bluntly, “That woman was my best friend, that child was my everything and I’m sorry if I’m finding it very hard to share every single detail of my relationship with people that I’ve barely known long enough. As you might understand, trust certainly isn’t my strong point at the minute,” I ranted quickly, “She’s a good mother you know, she wouldn’t be doing this to me for money, Casey was obviously hurt, but I did not do it.”

“Michael, Sharon wasn’t trying to be rude to you, but she is right… if we go to the arraignment without all the correct statements and alibis and versions of events, we might get blind sighted,” Greg told me in a more gentle way. He got it, he understood. He knew how badly the allegations were killing me.

“Diane and I were just friends. My mother is always trying to marry me off. She and I bonded over Casey and we became friends because of things in common and really that was it.”

I knew I shouldn’t have been lying, but at the base of it, I felt for Casey, the real victim.

“Was there anyone else in Casey’s life besides her Mom? What about her father?” Greg asked as I carried on with the box, manipulating more of the panels, feeling a bit of sweat beneath my arms.

“Nope. He was an absent parent, she’d never met him. I don’t think there was anyone else. They stayed here with me when I was home and in the hospital when they weren’t here… Was Casey actually hurt?” I asked, stopping, realising that perhaps there was some truth to the accusation. I looked from Greg to Sharon, my eyes demanded answers.

“It appears so, Michael can you sit?” Sharon asked, her tone was kinder this time. I could see she was trying to take a different approach. I let go of the wooden mystery in my hands that was starting to drive me insane and I went to sit back down at the table.

“Hasn’t she already been through enough?” I asked with a sigh, “what happened?”

“According to the statement we received from the police, Casey complained of pain and what they thought was a urinary tract issue was actually some damage…”

“And what? Casey told Diane it was me?”

“Diane said her behaviour had been off leading up to the complaints. She was crying a lot, had nightmares and she thought it was from her chemo,” Greg explained to me.

“Oh shit,” I mumbled, “the last time I spoke to Diane she mentioned Casey wasn’t feeling well and had an appointment with the doctor for the next morning.”

“Yes,” Greg confirmed, “the doctor examined her and realised something was going on. Hargrove freaked out and demanded questions from the child and she finally said your name.”

“Are you sure she said my name?” I asked, “Casey doesn’t say a lot. Maybe she was getting upset and wanted me, rather than accusing me. I don’t want to be unfair to Diane, but I was definitely the more emotionally stable out of the two of us,” I blurted out.

“Well Michael, we are just going by what the police have supplied us with. Casey has been meeting with an independent psychologist and we will probably have her meet someone from our side too.”

I didn’t really know what to say. I hated to know something else had happened to the child, but I could understand Diane’s motives. I was almost relieved that they weren’t financial and perhaps I was relieved that a part of her would have been mourning for the loss of a friend.

“I want to call her… I want to make sure she’s okay…. God…” I got up from the chair and began pacing again. “That poor child…if I could just see Diane, I could tell her that it wasn’t me, I would tell her that I want to find the person guilty of this just as much as she does…”

“Absolutely not, Michael, do not, under any circumstances, try to contact Diane or Casey.”

“Is she okay? Casey? Healthwise?” I remembered back to the last conversation when things became a little bit strained.

“After this round of chemo,” Diane had explained, “we are going to look in to a kidney donor. New kidneys will reduce the chance of the cancer coming back and hopefully our little girl can start having a normal life.”

I even remembered the stupidest details about that phone conversation. I remembered that it was an ugly hue of green. That I’d been able to pull the phone around the room since it was attached to a ridiculously long extension lead. I had been looking out over the sea of fans below through a curtain that obstructed me from their vision.

“Oh good,” I’d replied, “so that’s a real possibility then?” I asked relieved for the little girl’s health that we were concerned for some time may have been declining for the last time.

“Yes, I was so happy after I got off the phone to the specialist,” she told me. She had seemed particularly bubbly despite having just explained about Casey’s clinginess and her not quite right manner.

“Great, is there anything I can do?” I wondered, “Obviously I’ll be away for another month, but I could help out from here…”

“Actually… there’s something, we could talk about it more when we’re face to face… but, I’ve been thinking about some things recently…” she began and I knew it was going to be a heavy conversation.

“Yeah?” I had a strange feeling that I wasn’t going to like it, but still I wanted to hear her out.

“I’ve been reading up on stem-cell research and all that kind of stuff, you know, that pile of books you sent me.” I smiled, I was glad she was becoming more pro-active about solutions. I didn’t necessarily agree with the morals of stem-cell and designer genetics, but I found it interesting and fascinating to learn about.

“I know that we agreed that it was fate the way things happened with DM.” I felt my heart drop. DM was the stupid name we’d given our lost baby. It was nothing special. We didn’t have the heart to name it, but we didn’t want to always call it a miscarriage, so we just gave it our initials, pushed together to signify something that was truly ours.

“Yeah…?”

“But maybe what God intended was for us to take good use of science to help Casey. You want more children, and I think I’m ready with the real possibility of Casey growing up and wanting another sibling, so… maybe we could look in to having another baby.”

“Okay,” I was floored by the request, but I knew it didn’t come without a condition, after all, there was a reason why it was coming up in the same conversation as designer genetics which was a relatively new thing in the world of science.

Because of my financial position, I knew I had a better chance at being able to access that type of privilege. If we wanted a designer baby, we could have one, but I wasn’t entirely sure I was comfortable with that.

“Diane…” I grimaced, I knew she was suggesting it out of pure desperation.

“Michael, I know what you’re going to say – but look at this, we both want more children and maybe our situation isn’t exactly ideal, but it works for us.” She was definitely right about that, “and while there’s ethical issues for you, don’t you think the most amazing bond between siblings could come out of something like this?”

“Its not like you can take a kidney from a baby from your school-aged daughter,” I pointed out.

“Well it would take the same amount of time to find a donor,” she said bluntly.

“You can’t just make a life to extend a life. And yes, I want another child, but I don’t think you want one for the right reasons.”

I knew as soon as I said it, I’d regret it.

“What more right reason do I need to keep my daughter alive?” she asked me with a voice full of tears. She was highly emotional, but this was the most insane thing I’d ever heard from her.

“Sweetheart,” I crooned softly, pulling away from the window and going to take a seat on the bed. I ran my fingers through my hair and breathed a sigh. I didn’t want to hurt her, she was fragile and at her wits end, but I couldn’t in my good conscience help make a baby to strip for spare parts. “I know this is all scary and hard to deal with, but I promise you I will find the right donor for Casey. You just tell me when she needs it, and I will make it happen. We don’t need to have a child to find a kidney.”

“Michael, please, please, please tell me you’ll at least think about it,” she begged me.

“Okay…” I murmured even though my mind was already made up. “I’ll think about it.”

We ambled through awkward and strained conversation for the rest of the evening as we did most nights after Casey had gone to bed, but never had our conversation been so odd. I relented again and promised her to think about her request. I told her I loved her and I loved Casey and then I hung up.

And that was the last I’d heard from her.

**

After the lawyers left I played with the box a little more. It was turning in to an obsessive game.

I took it to the living room and sat it on the coffee table. I picked up my cordless phone and dialled Malania’s number that I held in my clammy hands. It was just before dinner time, I hoped I wouldn’t interrupt.

“Hello Nakamura house…” a voice answered the phone. It was a lady with a heavy accent who sounded both cheerful and timid.

“Hello, Mrs. Nakamura, its Peter here,” I tried my best to sound casual, like we’d spoken before, “may I please speak to Malania?”

“Oooh Peter,” her mother gushed. I smiled, she sounded very sweet, “how are you? How is your family?”

“I’m great, my family is great too, thank you.”

“Wonderfuuuul,” she drawled in her thick accent, “I think Malania is resting, but let me check for you, poor šećeru, she has had some very busy days and very late nights.”

“Oh yes… poor thing.” I could hear her going up a flight of stairs. “You’ll have to come and visit again, no?” she said, “it will be wonderful to see you.”

I smiled, “sure... I’d like that.”

“Okay one moment.”

I heard her cover her hand over the phone and some muffled voices. I got up out of the couch and began to walk around the living room. I saw some mess from the raid scattered to the corner and began sorting it in to two piles – broken, ruined and the stuff to keep.

“Hello?” Malania answered. She sounded a little too sleepy for 4pm in the afternoon, I was pretty sure she had been awoken from a nap. “Is this Peter?” she asked with an air of smugness in her tone.

I laughed, “Yeah, Pete speaking,” I joked as I got up and made two trips to the rubbish to put some of the things out. I began to reorder the keep pile and start putting the things away.

“Hang on, Peter, let me get some privacy up in here. I’m sure my Mama is standing right outside the door getting ready to marry me off to you.”

I laughed again and waited for a moment. I heard a door close and then she sounded settled. “What are you upto?” she asked.

“Sorting through the mess,” I replied, “how are you today? Did you get home super late?”

“Yeah, pretty late, but actually, I slept some of the way home. Fred woke me up when I got to the door,” she chuckled, “I army rolled in to bed and have slept on and off most of the day.”

“Good, you deserve your rest. I had a visit from my lawyers so I had to get up around noon. But I had a pretty good sleep last night which has been a big change from previous nights.” I rambled.

“Good to hear that Michael, probably what you’ve really needed. How was the visit from the lawyer?”

“Fine, I found out a few things, I don’t really know how to feel or what to think so I guess I’ll just try not to worry about it. I have a bunch of other things I need to do here anyway with the house and what-not.” I explained, “And you know what? I haven’t had much time to spend with the animals here on the ranch so I will probably go check out the giraffe and I bought some Alpacas which arrived around a week ago, I was told… I totally love Alpacas, they have such beautiful eyes.”

“Michael wait, stop…” she interrupted, “take a breath, are you alright?” I could hear the alarm in her voice. She knew immediately something was wrong. I could have cursed myself.

Perhaps I needed a sleeping pill to even myself out. I knew for next time that taking a second pill was probably a bad idea.

“I’m okay I promise, I am just…” I didn’t know what I was. I didn’t know how to end the sentence.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to come there and be with you?” she asked. I knew there was no ulterior motive, but I didn’t want her to come because I suspected she would figure out what had happened a little too quickly.

“I promise I’m okay, I just wanted to tell you that I am about halfway through finishing the puzzle on the box. I’ve been working on it ever since the lawyer left.” I tried to remember to breathe, pause between sentences and allow her to respond. It was almost too much to think about.

“That’s great, are you having fun with it?” she asked me sounding like she had relaxed a little bit.

“Fun? Well, I’m not sure that’s the right word, but it’s a very cool puzzle, I am pretty determined with things like that. I’m just really curious to get to what’s inside.” The pile of mess on the floor was pretty much cleared up so I moved to the next room, an even larger pile. It didn’t seem like such a mountainous task anymore.

She chuckled, “Hey, I was thinking about all that stuff I told you last night, and I’m sorry that I did… I didn’t mean to unload on you like that. It was unfair of me.”

“What, girl, are you kidding?” I laughed, “Please, we’re friends right? You’re supposed to be able to share stuff. I shared stuff too. Its all good, please don’t apologise.”

“Still,” she insisted, “I’m totally fine. It was just an off day for me.”

“Okay. Well, I’m going to call you back when I’m done with this box. Its been such a challenge. I didn’t realise that little bits kinda pop out, its so intricate. Can you imagine how long it took to make it?” the thought kinda blew my mind, “I can’t even begin to imagine the time that it would take…”

“Michael, definitely call me back tonight, okay?” she urged me, “just so I know you’re okay.”

“Alright,” I agreed. I was anxious to hang up now, changing my mind about speaking to her when I was so wired.

I agreed to call her back at 10pm and she was going to let her parents know she was waiting on Peter to call back so they wouldn’t answer. I felt a little deceitful, but I didn’t mind so much. I knew she had her reasons and I certainly didn’t need anyone knowing where I was.

I abandoned my pile of rubbish and went back to the box. I sat, paying complete attention to the box. It took another hour for me to crack it open. I felt such relief. I opened the last tiny little panel and was surprised to find a carefully folded letter inside.

For the first time since I’d taken the pills, I managed to stay completely still, transfixed by her short, precise and honest note. It made my heart grow such huge appreciation for her, but it also made me aware that she knew my secret and that, well… that made me petrified.

And I wasn’t sure if I should ever call her again.

Chapter 15 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Michael can be such a dick.... lol. 

Chapter 15:


“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” were the first words out of his mouth one entire week later.


Despite how I’d told myself our friendship had no conditions and despite the promises I’d made to my mother, I was hurt. I was hurt that he didn’t call when he said he was going to. I was hurt that I’d put my heart on the line for him and he’d completely burned me.


I tried not to show my sadness to my family, but they figured it out. Every time they tried to show compassion or tried to talk to me about it, I insisted that I was fine, that Michael had his own things to take care of and that part of being a friend was understanding and respecting his space during such difficult times.


I believed that to a degree, but the last conversation I’d with Michael rang alarm bells in my head and I couldn’t quite figure out why.


“it’s okay,” I replied to him even though my tone betrayed my words. I didn’t sound happy to hear from him, I didn’t sound sad either.


Michael sounded tired as though he’d not any sleep in that entire week.


“No, its not okay, I told you I’d call you and I just… couldn’t,” he said slowly.


“Alright,” I responded stoically.


“I got the box open just shortly after we spoke last,” he informed me, “and I read your letter and it scared me.”


“Okay.” I didn’t really know what to say and was trying so hard not to give too much of myself because I didn’t want to be burned or hurt.


“Can I come see you? Or, could you come to me? I’m scared of being alone…” he said in a soft, meek voice that worried me. He had never been so vulnerable in front of me. If he had been concerned in the past, he hadn’t let it show.


“I can come to you.” I said simply.


“I’ll send a car for you again,” he offered.


“No, don’t. I’ll drive,” I told him firmly. “Do you want me to come now?”


“If you can…” his voice trailed off.


I didn’t want to be the kind of idiot who jumped when asked, but I felt sorry for him. He was sad, he was helpless and he was alone.


I went to Neverland and was told to drive up to the house by the security who let me in without any questions, without any papers to sign, just with ease.


Michael was expecting me. He wasn’t dressed. I wasn’t out to impress either. When he’d called me that morning I’d been in my ready to go for a walk in a pair of black cargo pants and a pink hooded Adidas sweatshirt. I bother changing, but I did at least tie my hair back neatly. I knew when it came to fashion, big hair was good hair and my hair could certainly be big – but no, I preferred to tie my hair back and keep it sleek and easily maintained.


I was surprised by how awful he looked. The last time I saw him, he’d been looking a bit better, a bit fuller in the face, but this time he looked gaunt and he’d lost noticible weight in the days passed.


“Michael, gosh…” I gasped when I caught sight of his face. It was the first time I’d ever seen him without make up. He was always beautiful and gorgeous but there was something so striking about him without all of it.


But his eyes, his eyes were what worried me the most. They were defeated, tired, blood-shot and red and so devastatingly sad.


He didn’t even flinch, he just invited me inside. He seemed absent-minded and this time didn’t offer to take my bag. He didn’t offer me a drink or something to eat, he just walked ahead of me. It felt awkward but it was also heartbreaking to see just how unravelled he was. His hair was a giant mess that looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in awhile and I was unsure of how long ago it was that he’d shaved.


“Michael, did something happen?” I asked. I was petrified that he’d had some bad news that sent him on a downward spiral. He turned around as if just noticing me. He threw me a genuinely confused look and simply shook his head.


I followed him in to what was now a spotless house. “Did someone come and help you clean all this up?” I asked, noticing that all the piles of mess and broken belongings were now gone and the house looked beautiful and clean.


“No, I did it myself. I’m not going to be counting on anyone anymore for things like that, seems stupid, really…” He remarked as we went from room to room until we arrived in a sitting room. It was warm and cosy and he had a fire going before us in the fireplace.


He just took a seat on a long, mauve coloured chaise lounge.


“What can I do?” I asked him, he covered himself with a blanket. It was almost like he didn’t care if I was there or not. I felt a bit annoyed despite my upset.


“Hang out… God knows no one else wants to hang out with me right now.”


“Of course they do, maybe you’re just not showing them that you need them.”


He eyed me darkly as if my words meant nothing. I wasn’t used to him being this negative or emotional. I sat down beside him on the edge, facing him. “Oh yeah?” he challenged me, “My parents and closest friends know where I am. Besides my mother calling me every five seconds and breathing down my neck, I’ve heard from not a single soul except my lawyers.”


“Maybe they don’t know what to say,” I told him, desperate for him to not feel so destitute.


He cocked his head to the side as if he didn’t believe me for a moment.


“What about Elizabeth?” I asked kindly, “weren’t you with her the day before I saw you?”


“She had to go overseas for business…she wanted me to come but I’m not allowed to leave the country since being officially arrested,” he explained. He slouched back in to the couch and sighed with sadness. “I’m sorry.”


I didn’t know why he was apologising. “Why are you sorry?”


“I’m sorry I made you come here, this is exactly what you don’t need to see, your favourite pop star turns out to be some sad, lonely shut-in with ass wads of cash and no friends…” he shook his head dismally, “The person you dreamed I would be is probably better than the reality.”


“Michael, no…” I instinctively reached for his arm that was resting in his lap and rested my hand on it. He flinched in pain, and I realised immediately without seeing any proof that he surely was cutting. I remembered the healing sting of the wounds that I’d scratched in to the surface of my inner arm. Sometimes that sting was blinding when grazed or touched softly especially through material.


I decided not to address it immediately.


“You’re an amazing man. Everyone has their dog days, everyone. I know you’re sad and angry and frustrated but you are not a disappointment to me. You will never be.”


I remembered back when Beth had told him she had dropped out of college because she wasn’t sure what she wanted. She said she had dreams of being a writer and he told her point blank that he believed in her. I remembered just how much his words had impressed upon her. Despite the web of deceit she had woven, she did dedicate herself to writing. She always had a pen in her hand.


“Michael, I believe in you, I always have,” I told him when he didn’t reply, “you once told Beth that you believed in her and even if you were just saying it to make her feel better-“


“I remember telling her that,” he shot back as if it was insulting that he might not have been sincere, “about her college degree…”


“Right,” I nodded, “well, the thing is, you always believe in us, in others… but I don’t think anyone has bothered to tell you just how much we believe in you.”


“Thanks…” his voice trailed off. I detected he was a little bit emotional.


“I mean it,” I insisted, “I don’t drive three hours from Fountain Valley to Los Olivos for shits and giggles.”


He managed a half smile.


“Now, I may not be good at all that affection, warm and fuzzy stuff, but I’m good in a crisis, so what do you need me to do for you?”


He was about to say something but I halted him, “but don’t confuse me for one of your yes men. I’m your friend and your fan, so I will help, but I won’t take orders.”


“You’ll do what I tell you to,” he replied with a little smile. I was relieved to see that finally he found his sense of humour. Typical sweet, Michael, had to add that he was just kidding.


I felt like I had to be positive despite my fears for him. I leaned back on his couch too. “Is there something you want?” I asked.


“Maybe, I’m waiting for a call from an assistant. I need some medication, I might get you to pick that up for me in town later if its not too much.”


“Okay,” I agreed, “what about food, do you need groceries?”


“Yeah maybe a couple of things…” he replied with a shrug. “But for now, can you just stay and talk to me so I don’t go crazy in silence?” his last question sounded as though he wasn’t convinced I would stay.


“Sure…”


“You’re a sweet girl, Malania…” his voice trailed off, “I’m lucky to have found a friend in you.”


I didn’t really know what to say to that so I let the moment pass. “I was surprised when you rang home today, I had started to accept that I’d never hear from you again.” I admitted.


He avoided my eyes and looked down at the hem of the blanket that he was playing with. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”


I waited for him to offer an explanation. I knew he felt bad, I could see it by the way he was avoiding my eyes. “Its because I told you I knew you were cutting, isn’t it?” I asked him bluntly when he didn’t continue for lack of words.


“I’m not cutting, why would you think that?” he dismissed me.


I narrowed my eyes at him. “Michael, I wouldn’t be a friend if I wasn’t honest with you, that’s why I wanted you to know that I saw your wrist. It wasn’t an animal scratch. I would never have written the things that I did unless I was certain, god…” I shook my head, “I would never have written my own secrets in to that letter so brazenly if I wasn’t certain.”


“So what, you’re all better now? No more cutting?”


He didn’t deny it. He seemed almost like he was making a mockery of what I’d been through. It was weird, he was so kind-hearted, so sweet even when he was being difficult and yet I couldn’t help but to feel like he wasn’t taking me seriously.


“Sometimes, when things feel really bad, I have harmed myself in instances since, but not like it was back then…”


My honesty seemed to pique his interest. He held my gaze for a moment before his eyes travelled down my arms and he stared at my wrist. I could tell that he was thinking of the scar he had spied the last time I visited.


“Can I see your scars?”


I was hesitant. I wasn’t sure what it would achieve. I didn’t want to show him. “Why?”


He shrugged, “See to believe,” he replied. I understood. He believed me and my story, I’m sure but I could cement my honesty with the proof. I reluctantly pushed one of my sleeves up and undone the clip on my silver watch and slipped it over my wrist and placed it on the coffee table.


The watch covered the suicide attempt.  


The scar would never go away. Unfortunately the last kick in the teeth to my attempt was a hypertrophic scar; raised and different to the rest of my skin colour. Apparently it was common for Asians.


Michael didn’t flinch when he saw it. He inched a little closer and slid his hand in to mine. He pulled my arm across his lap. Any other time I would have been dying of happiness to have my hand in Michael Jackson’s, with him sitting beside me examining my skin. But no, I was too busy dying of shame.


I felt my eyes filling up as I felt his eyes falling over the horizontal scars that filled that space beneath my watch. I couldn’t stand it anymore, I pulled my arm from his grasp and wriggled my sleeve back down. He noticed that I was about to cry and I noticed his intrigue turned to sheepishness and concern, forgetting his own troubles.


“Please don’t cry, I’m sorry,” he apologised. Old Michael was back, the Michael that was kind and compassionate. “I shouldn’t have asked you to show me, I’m sorry.”


I shook my head and wiped my eyes before the tears soaked my cheeks. “Its okay…”


“No, I’m being a jerk. Its not your fault my life has turned to shit,” he murmured, “you’re being the sweetest, I know you care about me, I know you’re here because you feel for me and you want to help, so its not fair of me to be such a pig.”


“I’m okay,” I told him, trying to compose myself. I was still quite disturbed by my own scars. I didn’t think it was anything I’d ever truly get over.


He slid his hand in mine again, pulling it back to him. He laced his fingers through mine and caressed it with his free hand soothingly.


“I’ve been cutting a long time too,” he blurted out, “but I stopped for a long time, I didn’t feel like anything was too hard to deal with anymore, but now…” his voice trailed off. I couldn’t believe his jarring honesty.


“What made you able to stop?” I asked curiously.


“Meeting Casey and Diane,” he replied. It was the first time I’d heard her name from his mouth. I was sure there was much more to the story. “They loved me,” he told me quietly, “and I loved them.”


“I’m sorry…”


“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t make up lies and sell them off to the world.”


I gave his hand a squeeze.


We sat in silence for a few moments, “so… what made you feel everything was so awful that you wanted to do this to yourself?” he asked me. This time he wasn’t asking in such a challenging, almost patronising way, but rather curious and compassionate. Before he waited for an answer, he added, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”


“I have never told a single soul…” I remarked, “and I guess I could tell you, but maybe not right now. I don’t even know if I could say it…” it was true, to speak the words out loud made it more truth than it had ever been. What it was in my mind was a surreal dream that never seemed to have any realism to it.


“I understand. You don’t have to tell me. But, after you did this, didn’t everyone probe at you for answers?”


I nodded, “yeah and they still do,” I said, “in fact, my sister, Anica, she rarely speaks to me. We are polite but we keep our distance because of all that.”


“Why? Shouldn’t she have been worried?” Michael asked. I could see the concern written all over his face. I hated that it was for me but was glad that the coldness from his tone had been lifted.


“I guess, she found me though and I suppose it was traumatic and selfish of me. And because I never gave her any clear cut answers, she’s resolved that I was being dramatic; that I had no real reason to do this to myself.”


“Maybe she took it personal. Were you close or anything before that?” he wondered.


I nodded, “Yeah, she and I were pretty close. She used to spare me when my brother had his meltdowns. Maybe one day we could get to that place again, but I can’t tell her either.”


I could tell he was curious but he didn’t push the issue. Instead he bluntly shared bits and pieces of his past. “You know, the weeks leading up to meeting Casey, I had planned my suicide.”


I felt my breath catch at idea of not having him around anymore. “What? You?”


He gave a sardonic smile and eased down beside me, sharing his blanket with me. It wasn’t long before he rested his head comfortably on my shoulder. I knew he missed affection. My Mama was affectionate, but it was almost smothering sometimes. Michael was different.


I rested my head against his.


“My brother was at the height of his ‘Michael’s gay’, obsession, my Dad kept asking me for money that he wanted to piss away in to bad business deals and I was so, so, so famous to the point where it started to make me anxious.”


“I thought you loved all that…” I remarked, “that’s why we always waited to say hello, we thought that’s how you wanted it.”


“I did…” he corrected me, “I mean, I do… It’s the paparazzi and the media, always waiting with baited breath for me to put a foot wrong. Then, one day someone got in my face and told me I was ugly, I looked like a freak and that I was bleaching my skin…”


There had been a noticible change to his skin colour since I’d become a fan. Whenever anyone brought it up with me, I chose to mind my business. I didn’t know the reason and it wasn’t my place to assume that I knew. Also, I loved Michael unconditionally, I didn’t care.


“People are mean-spirited assholes,” I told him, “you are perfect as you are and I hope you never took that on board.”


“Oh, I took it on board alright…” he laughed, “its not like I didn’t already have self esteem issues.”


“But so many people love you…” I murmured.


“They don’t love me, they love who they think I am. I disappoint everyone who gets to know me, Malania, and I’m sure I’ll disappoint you too, that’s why there’s no one here now. Just you…”


“People don’t understand you,” I told him point blank, staring in to his eyes, “but I think I do. I could be wrong, but I think I do…”


He stared back and gave me a tiny little smile. I was sure that was his silent way of agreeing with me.


“I’m glad you didn’t go through with it,” I told him, “whatever purpose Casey and Diane had in your life, albeit pretty freaking evil right now, I am glad that they had the power to stop your suicide.”


“I’m not so sure I feel the same,” he replied.


“Well, given the situation, I’m not entirely surprised.”


We chewed on our separate thoughts for a little while. I thought for a moment he’d drifted off to sleep, but he let out a deep sigh that alerted me to the fact that he was awake.


Finally I spoke up. “Do you want to do something fun?”


“Like what?”


“I dunno, you need cheering up… we both do. Do you want to go for a drive?”


He lifted his head from my shoulder and looked at me like I was crazy. “Do you realise how crazy and dangerous that would be if someone saw me? Besides, the security guard won’t let me go anywhere.”


I laughed, “Well, we’ll wait until it gets dark. I’ll pretend I’m going home, you can hide in the backseat while I drive out and then you can come climb in the front and we can turn the windows down and the tape deck up!”


Now he was smiling for real. “Do you think anyone might see me?”


“Well… not unless we get too close to others. We could go to Pismo beach or something and just hang out. We don’t even have to get out of the car if we don’t want… I just think maybe some fresh air and freedom couldn’t hurt you right now.”


“Could we stop at a drive through and get ice cream?” he asked as though he was getting permission. I laughed, feeling lighter. “Sure, we could do that.”


“I like that you are all for breaking the rules a little bit,” he said, “everyone’s always too wound up to let me do something different.”


“Well I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, but I’m sure if we are smart about it, you’ll be fine.”


“Okay,” he said with certainty, looking brighter than he’d been since I’d arrived. “Lets do it, lets paint the town tonight.”


I just laughed, leaving it to Michael to use such an ancient expression.


  

Chapter 16 by SkyWriter

 Chapter 16:

My eyes felt heavy and I was out of Adderall, but I was trying if only for the beautiful hearted girl in front of me who was trying her best to do something to make me feel better.

She had a cute little smile on her face and was looking a little mischievous as she organised the inside of her car for me to get in. She was only short against me, she disappeared halfway inside the backseat, neatening things up for me.

“Well this is nice…” I said out loud, staring at her cute, round backside with a smile.

“What is?” she asked over her shoulder.

“this, its good view, should I thank you?” I joked with her, her butt in the air.

She grabbed her own butt almost as if she were trying to cover it. I felt bad for a moment, thinking that I’d caused a little self-consciousness but I could hear her laughter.

Finally, she crawled back out and smiled at me, her cheeks were still a little pink. “Okay, sorry it was a bit of a mess…”

“No problem,” I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face and it felt good.

She stood with her hands on her hips and surveyed the car. “So, I don’t want to bail out of this idea, but… what if someone busts us, am I going to get in to a lot of trouble?”

I chuckled, “No, I’ll probably get in to a lot of trouble, but we’ll deal with it. I think it’s a fail safe plan, don’t worry,” I assured her.

I fastened the baseball hat on my head that I found in my closet and I slunk in to the back seat. She grabbed the plaid rug that she had pulled from her trunk and spread it out over me, both laughing mischieviously.

“God, this is going to end so badly, I just know it…” she muttered with a laugh, looking adorable.

“Come on, believe in this…” I tried to spur her on. “I haven’t been out of the house unattended without security since the land before time.” I admitted, “so despite the present situation, this is kinda exciting to me.”

“Okay, when I say when, cover your face with that blanket, she directed me. She shut the back door of the car and got in to the drivers side.

“I hope you’re a good driver, cos I get car sick!” I called out. She laughed, not realising I was serious. I felt the car move down the driveway and down the path that led out of the security gate.

“Cover your face, Fred is standing at the gate,” she told me. I did as she said and pulled the blanket over my face and made sure my head was being covered properly.

“I’m just going to do some errands for Michael,” I heard her say sweetly, “for now I think he just wants to be alone, but I’ll be back in a little while.”

We had covered both bases. Before we’d left the house, I’d called the security shack and let them know that Malania was leaving but would be back within a few hours, that she would be staying for the evening. No one asked any questions.

I heard the gates opening up and after a short silence and drive, I knew I was out of there.

“Michael, keep still, there are fans out here…” Malania told me calmly as the car slowed. “Shit, Beth is here…” Rather than stopping to talk to some people like I thought she might, she picked up speed and continued down the road. After around about 300 or so meters she finally sighed.

“Okay, its clear...”

“Were there a lot of people?” I asked her, sitting up, glad for air because I was beginning to feel claustrophobic.

“Just fans…” Malania replied, “don’t worry they just saw me.”

“Did you see Beth?” I confirmed with her.

“Yeah… hopefully she didn’t notice,” I sensed some anxiousness in her tone. I figured she hadn’t sorted anything out with her friend yet. We got a short distance on down the road. Malania halted the car to a stop and allowed me to get in to the front. I fastened the baseball cap on to my head and settled in to the passenger side.

“So, did you end up seeing her that night she left you? Did she come back for you?” I wondered curiously. I didn’t think Malania had told anyone about coming to see me, but in all honesty, I didn’t really ask her.

“Yeah… she was waiting when I left Hayvenhurst… it was weird. She was mad at me when she thought that we’d met and I was annoyed by that, so I told her that someone took pity on me and let me sleep in the security shack.”

I was surprised that she’d lied, wondering why, given how close the girls were when I’d met them. “Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” I asked as we drove along, taking a left at the end of the windy road that was my street.

I liked that she wasn’t totally prim and proper. She looked cute even in her casual outfits. I loved that she didn’t wear gallons of make up, which sounded dumb in contrast to the make up I usually wore to cover my vitiligo. I studied her face as she concentrated on driving. She seemed reluctant to say but finally she shrugged. “I dunno, I guess I was mad with her. If the tables were turned, I saw her coming out of Hayvenhurst and had an idea that she’d met you or hung out with you or something, I’d have been envious, but very happy for her… And I just saw pure hatred on her face when I left there. I thought it was easier to keep things peaceful; and also, I respected you and your privacy.”

“So you think she got jealous? Did she at least apologise for leaving you out?” I asked.

She glanced at me as we reached an intersection and shrugged. “Sort of, I mentioned I was going home and she got a bit weird. She said she felt bad for leaving me and when I left I said I’d call her but neither of us have bothered making contact…”

“Well that’s sad, I thought you were both very close,” I remarked, although I was secretly glad that she had kept it to herself. I didn’t need fans swapping stories as much as I loved them.

“Yeah, we were I guess… but I think we had traveling in common. Once everything happened and we both dealt with it very differently, I felt the differences and that was the last straw for me.”

“I like that you’re being honest,” I admitted, grateful that we’d broken the ice that had been so thick between us.

She rose her eyebrow in a way that made me feel a bit funny, “did you prefer that I lie?”

“No,” I laughed, “I’m just saying, I like it…”

“Well… I like it when you’re honest with me too,” she replied. We shared a shy smile before she was quickly back to business, “okay so, where do you want to go first?”

“Mmm I don’t mind, what about we go hang out at Pismo… It’s the shortest distance and the nicest beach that I know of…” I told her, “unless you know somewhere else?”

“No, that’s fine… I know how to get there, so that’s good, or else we’d end up in Bakersfield or some crazy place like that.”

We both laughed, “you’re driving is pretty good…” I remarked.

“Why, do you think cos I’m part Asian that I’m living up to the stereotype?” she asked me in a serious almost-offended, voice.

“No, no…” I said quickly.

“I’m just joking,” she laughed.

“I’m just sayin’, it’s unusually good given that you’re a woman…”

She gasped in mock-furiousness, but I couldn’t even hold my laughter in, and soon she laughed too, realising that she wasn’t the only one who could make a joke that was politically incorrect.

“I should hit the brakes and send you flying out the windscreen for that one,” she threatened.

“And it probably wouldn’t be an accident, it’d just be female driving,” I kidded. She turned to me and cocked her head, trying to give me a serious and offended look but I just smiled at her fondly. “I’m only joking, I don’t really believe that. If you gave me the wheel, you’d see some seriously bad driving.”

“Really? Why so bad?” she wondered, curious.

“Cos I’m part Asian…” my voice trailed off until she reached over and gave me a gentle shove in the arm.

“Heyyyyy!” I burst out laughing, “that’s not nice!”

In all honesty, I felt good. My joy was only ever temporary because unfortunately I had a monster on my shoulder telling me that I had no right to be pleased when the world wanted my blood. But I pushed those feelings away and enjoyed the night and the freedom which so rarely came to me.

“No, but really,” I told her after I calmed down, “I am just awful at concentrating. I get distracted by the radio or… a thought or, really anything that isn’t driving.”

She laughed, “maybe its just that you’ve not driven enough. Where do you even drive?”

“I don’t anymore, but I used to try to drive a little bit… every now and then I can ride a push bike outside of the gates. I guess I could do it inside too the gates too, but there’s something so nice about being outside; freeing.”

She nodded, thoughtfully.

We passed a small convenience store just outside of Los Olivos when she pulled the car to a halt. “I’m going inside to get us something. What do you want?”

I thought for a moment, “I want to come in too.”

She looked alarmed. “What if the shop keeper recognises you?”

“I’ll be careful. I promise and if so, we’ll just drop everything and run back to the car.” I smiled, confident that I could handle it.

“Okay,” she grimaced, I could tell she was concerned but I tucked my hair up under the cap and jammed it on properly. When we got out we stood for a moment, making sure I looked less recognisable.

“Hang on,” she came closer to me. She stood around half a foot shorter than I was. She reached up and I felt her cold hands on both sides of my face, her fingers grazing against my hairline, pushing some stray hairs underneath the cap. I couldn’t help but to smile at her. She was just going above and beyond to help me out and to cheer me up.

“Your hands are like ice…” I informed her, shivering. She smiled back at me, a little awkwardly, realising how close we were. She retracted her hands a little guiltily. I just reached for one them and warmed it in mine. Neither of us said a word as we walked in to the store.

I held her close to me, using her as a little bit of a shield from the shopkeeper who was minding his own business reading a paper.

“What drink do you want?” she asked, looking in to the refrigerator that was set against the wall. I wasn’t a total shut-in, I had been in to grocery stores before. Though, it had been a long, long time since I’d been in to a store on my own without it being for a novelty. I hadn’t been inside a store for years without a circle of guards and people trying to get in to be near me.

I just stood with amazement, my eyes pouring over all the different drinks. I felt Malania’s eyes on me, I think she realised what a rare experience it was for me. She let me go ahead and take my time.

“Can I help you guys down there?” the shopkeeper called out, getting ready to come from his counter to help us.

“No,” Malania called back, “we’re just indecisive!” she called back with a smile.

He laughed, “Well ya’ll let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you!” I dared to call back in a deeper-than-usual voice.

Malania and I exchanged excited grins, thinking that we had got away with it for now. We turned back to the fridge. “What’s Yoohoo?” I whispered, feeling incredibly naïve.

“It’s a chocolate drink, if you’re in to chocolate, you’d like it…” she told me, “or,” she pointed to the shelf above her head, “double fudge.”

I smiled and opened the door and pulled out a double fudge Yoohoo. “I love chocolate.”

“Mmm I haven’t tried that one, seems like it’d be a bit sickly?” she offered her opinion, “I think I’ll have the strawberry one.” Since it was a bit high, I passed her the double fudge and reached for the strawberry.

It was my turn to make a face.

We headed slowly over to the candy bars and chips. “Cheetos!” I remarked excitedly, “my manager used to be so against me eating these. He said they were so bad for me…”

She laughed, “Its every American’s God-given right to eat Cheetos until their teeth are orange and their fingers are covered in a thick seasoning.”

I laughed too, grabbing a large bag. She grabbed some potato chips and some seaweed crackers. I shook my head at her as she grabbed them.

“What?” she asked, quizzically.

“You Asians and your weeds...”

She rose an eyebrow. Sometimes I was sure that I’d offended her, but it was only because she pulled off seriousness so well. “You?” she asked, “you’re judging me? You are holding a double fudge drink and a giant, economy sized bag of Cheetos!”

I laughed sheepishly, looking down at my findings. “Is that bad?”

“No, its funny… do you want some candy bars so that you can make up the five basic food groups?”

We grabbed a couple more things and we nervously approached the counter to pay. I felt awful since I didn’t even have a wallet. It was rare that I carried cash or a wallet. Usually someone else took care of that for me.

“Oh no, Malania, I’m sorry, I didn’t think-“

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied turning around, giving me a smile as if she understood. I stood behind her at the counter as the shopkeeper swiped our items across a scanner. I felt like a free-loader.

“What have you folks got planned for tonight?” the shopkeeper asked.

“Not much, just a night in, watching movies – but we gotta have some supplies.” Malania replied angelically. I felt the shopkeeper’s eyes on me as if he were waiting for a response. For whatever reason, I dared to look up.

We caught eyes for the briefest moment. I saw him flinch a little as though he recognised me, but if he did, he didn’t say a single word. He just smiled at us both. “Well take care and have a good evening,” he told us after he tendered Malania’s change.

I urged us to the car faster but not too fast that he’d become suspicious. I was pretty certain we had dodged a bullet.

“That felt easy, too easy.” Malania announced as we got back in the car.

“I think he recognised me. I was an idiot, I let him see my face.”

“Michael, I promise he didn’t. The guy had glasses as thick as coke bottles, he wasn’t recognising anything.”

Her words comforted me slightly, “and besides,” she continued, “if he recognised you, he definitely would have said something more than enjoy your evening.”

“You’re right… I’m just paranoid,” I sighed.

“We can go back to Neverland and hang there if you want, I won’t be upset, I don’t want you to feel worried,” she offered.

I hated feeling gated and shut in. It was suffocating especially given the circumstances. I was pretty sure the shopkeeper had recognised me, but maybe she was right, he probably would have reacted different if he had.

“No, its okay, lets go to Pismo.”

“When was the last time you drove?” Malania asked me as we drove off, “where did you drive to?”

“Probably more than three years ago. I asked my guard if I could drive to Santa Barbara airport and we had an accident about 15 minutes later and no one has let me drive since,” I chuckled.

“An accident!?” she gasped, “how?”

“I told you, I don’t concentrate well. My guard was playing with the radio and annoying me so I changed the station and rear-ended someone…”

She laughed and pulled over to the side. “Okay Jackson, you drive. I trust you with my car… every guy needs to get some driving experience, I have every faith that you’ll be able to competently drive us without an accident.”

I just stared at her with disbelief, “Malania, I just told you the last time I drove I had an accident.”

She shook her head with a smile filling her lips. She looked so gorgeous. Her face was full of joy and as egotistical as it sounded, I knew her day was made just being with me, “I told you, I have faith in you. I feel like with experience you will concentrate more. And I’ll slap you if you try to even look at the radio.”

Without a word, she got out of the drivers side and I reluctantly swapped sides with her. “Okay, but if I have an accident, people are going to recognise me and then we’ll be in trouble.”

“Well you’ll just have to make sure that you don’t have an accident,” she told me crossing her arms. I felt bad, I knew I should have been more confident and maybe her faith in me did help a little but I felt awkward and scared of ruining her car or possibly putting her in danger.

I felt myself shaking a little bit because I knew she was watching me like a hawk. I put my foot on the brake and turned the car in to drive and looked both ways before I pulled back out on to the road gingerly.

“See, smooth… you’ll be fine,” she assured me. I gained a little bit of confidence and kept right on, following her directions.

I gripped the wheel feeling a little pressured but never the less I began to relax. “How about I put a little music on,” I joked.

Malania laughed, “if you touch anything aside from that wheel, I am going to hurt you, Japanese torture style.”

I chuckled.

Our drive to Pismo beach was pretty uneventful and calm. We chatted a bit, but mostly I concentrated hard on what I was doing. I was relieved to see there was really no one about. There was one car parked but the occupants were no where to be seen. Even though it was cold out, I wasn’t going to let that be the reason why we stayed in the car.

I pulled up and parked. Malania was smiling at me. “See, you did great, have some faith in yourself like I have in you.”

I just smiled bashfully.

We got out of the car. “Do you want to grab the blanket, its quite cold, I don’t want you to freeze…” I told her. She was wearing a pink hoodie but I was sure she was probably colder than I was in my thick letterman jacket.

I picked it up off the backseat and draped it over her shoulders. She hugged it around herself and together we walked away from the car and down a path toward a beach a sandy beach.

“So, jokes aside, how are you actually feeling? If you cut all the ‘I’m fine’ bullshit, how are you really doing?”

“mmm….” I considered her question; or at least considered whether or not I should be brutally honest. “I don’t know if I want to go in to it all, it’ll bum us both out…” 

“Well, I bummed you out earlier with my stupid past,” she shrugged, “so when you bum me out, I’ll be able to feel like we’re even.”

I managed a laugh. “Here, lets sit here…” I directed her to a little kids park about 50meters from the shore. She took a seat on a swing. I took a seat beside her on the next swing.

We swang a little bit in silence. I knew she was still waiting for my answer.

“I’m really heartbroken, Malania…” my voice trailed off, “I just can’t really believe it… I found out that Casey was actually molested and I am conflicted because…” I sighed, “I felt like my role in her life was to protect her and help her, and yet both Diane and I failed at that and I’m furious that someone hurt my little baby but at the same token, I’m relieved that Diane isn’t just doing this for money or to hurt me for something.”

“You know 100% Casey was molested?” Malania confirmed with me.

I nodded. “Yeah and that really tears me up inside…” I shook my head.

“Can I ask, did you and Diane have a relationship?”

“You have a secret, right?” I asked Malania point blank. She breathed in deeply, I knew it was something that bothered her so much and tore her up the way Casey’s molestation did with me. She nodded slowly and avoided looking at me. Instead she stared ahead at the shore.

“I have a secret too…” I told her, “and yes, Diane and I had something if I am going to be truthful. There’s a lot to it, but I’m honestly not ready to share it all entirely.”

“Okay…well, when you are, I’m all ears…”

“Thanks for understanding. When I share it with you, I’ll expect that you’ll feel ready to share yours with me.”

She just gave me a smile.

“I know we’ve just hung out a few times, but really, your company is great. I appreciate your friendship so much,” I told her, “this, coming out like this, this is pretty much a dream come true for me, so it means a lot – especially given these circumstances.”

She was silent for a few moments. She’d always been a bit like that, she organised her thoughts well before she spoke too quickly about serious things. I’d noticed it before we began visiting with each other.

“To be completely truthful with you, Michael, I need a friend too. I know how lonely life can get…”

I was surprised by that. “I don’t understand, you’re so loveable. You’re sweet and nice and funny. And you’re beautiful, I’m surprised you don’t have a whole heap of friends.”

She chuckled, seeming embarrassed. “You’re very sweet… I guess with everything that’s happened with me over the years, I find it very hard to connect with anyone below surface. As much as it feels awful to say, I think the fact that I know you are going through something bad makes it easier for me to be honest and open with you – I know that we relate.”

I wasn’t entirely sure how we related. “Do you cut because of the secret in your past?”

Again, she paused before responding and finally nodded. “Yeah… and like you said earlier, sometimes you wish you had of gone through with it. Some days I hate that I wasn’t successful.”

I sighed. “I hear that…” I didn’t want to tell her that she was silly for feeling that way, or that she shouldn’t. I knew from experience that feelings weren’t like a dripping tap that we could all just turn off. They were real and sometimes we just had to go with it.

“Hey, lets make a pact…” she began, extending her hand out from beneath the folds of her blanket, “I pursue any crazy, life-threatening behaviours as long as you also promise not to.”

I didn’t want to make any promises. Never the less, if it was between saving her life over mine, then it would have been worth it. I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Promise.”

“Promise,” she repeated.

Even though I was heartbroken and deeply, deeply wounded by the actions of others, I was not prepared to stop loving and stop caring for others or putting other people’s needs in front of my own.

Malania needed me.

Perhaps she was my second lifeline. Or maybe I was hers.

 

 

 

Chapter 17 by SkyWriter

Chapter 17:

“Come on,” Luke smiled at me, “come and shoot some hoops with your brother and I!”

It wasn’t often my brother’s friend paid me attention. He was cute, star of the school basketball team and more importantly, interested in someone like me. Quiet, studious and dorky. It was a fifteen-year-old girl’s dream.

Samuel protested angrily. He swore at me and told me in no uncertain terms to get lost. It was a little humiliating. I watched him punch his friend aggressively for even merely suggesting my company.

Samuel wasn’t well-loved, it was more like he was well feared. He was cruel to just about everyone but mostly my mother and I.

The more attention Luke paid to me, the more furious my brother became. I wasn’t sure if it were jealousy or if it was his strange way of trying to protect me, either way, it was awful.

On my way home from school one day, it began to smash down with large, hard raindrops. I put my school bag over my head and began to hurry home. A car pulled over and I was pretty sure the angels sang as Luke leaned over and opened the passenger side door. “Hop in!!” he said hurriedly, “you’re going get saturated, I’ll take you home.”

Grateful for the ride, I jumped in. He smiled at me. “Awful outside, isn’t it?” he asked me.

I nodded. I was extremely shy, but nevertheless, I was happy to be in his company. He was so cute. He was tall, black and handsome with the loveliest light brown eyes. I knew he was kind, I could tell by all the times he’d look at me empathetically after my brother gave me a serve, or the times that he’d smile at me in the halls and say hello. I liked that he never introduced me to his friends as Samuel’s sister. We both knew why he didn’t do that.

“Yeah… thanks for stopping.”

“No biggie,” he grinned, “say, do you wanna come hang out and get ice cream or something til this rain stops?”

I chuckled giddly, as if ice cream was going to be the logical thing to have while waiting for the rain to peter off.

“Sure…”

My Mom wouldn’t worry, generally I stayed back after school to work on homework or to study, she wasn’t usually expecting me home immediately. My Dad was away as usual and my siblings had their own lives.”

“Cool. How was your day today? I saw you waiting outside the Science block after lunch, how was Mr. Matthews today?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

I shrugged. I didn’t want to sound like a dork, but I loved my science teacher. He was fun and I liked the practical sides of our lessons. “He was okay,” I replied.

We made small talk but it wasn’t long before it came to the topic of my brother. “What’s his problem anyway?” Luke asked me point blank.

I laughed at his bluntness. “I don’t know, he’s just angry. I’m not sure why.”

“He’s really awful to you, to everyone really, but it feels like he’s incredibly mean to you.”

I shrugged again, “He’s always been that way, don’t worry about it.”

We had a little bit of fun. I knew there was no chance in hell Luke would ever want to date me. I was too young and he was too cool, but I liked talking to him. He was nice to me. There were no other guys at school who would think to open doors for me or who would put their letterman jacket over me so I didn’t get wet in the rain.

We both knew that if Samuel found out we were on casual speaking terms he would bust his nut, not to mention if anything more came of it. However, it became tradition that on the days that he didn’t have basketball practice with Samuel, he drove me home or we hung out for a short while before I made him drop me off one block from home so it never became an issue.

Goodness knows it was a disaster waiting to happen.

“Malania?” Michael prompted me softly.

“Yeah?” I glanced up, “sorry, what did you say?”

“I said—we should probably start heading back,” he urged me.

We drove a little silently back to Neverland. I couldn’t help but feel sad about the things he’d told me nor could I forget the way he had confidently told me that when he shared his secret, I’d be able to share mine.

Realistically, there was no way I’d ever be able to speak the words. I would never be able to tell him how I felt for all the shamefulness that the secret left me with.

“Michael,” I began as we got up and began walking back to the car, “I don’t think I can ever tell you…”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“My secret… so, if you never share yours with me, that’s okay.” I admitted. He gave me a sympathetic smile and put an arm around me. He gave me a little squeeze and to my utmost surprise I felt his lips against my temple.

I shivered and probably could have burst in to tears with gratitude, but instead I managed to hold my shit together.

“Its not a requisite of friendship. You’re allowed to keep some things to yourself. There are things that I don’t think I could ever share with anyone else again, either, so I don’t want you to feel bad about it.”

I didn’t say anything and he didn’t let go of me. I liked that, I felt protected. I picked up that my new friend Michael was a fiercely protective and loyal friend.

“Keeping things inside though, it can get alienating and lonely. And you know, I am one of those people with first hand experience in knowing what its like to be judged for … everything,” he continued as we neared the car, “and in turn that’s made me the least judgmental person that I know.”

I smiled, “you have that on good authority, do you?”

He returned the smile, “yes, I do…”

We stopped before the car, lingering for a moment before we got in. “If you ever decide you want to get it off your chest – whatever it is, I’m here and I’m not going to judge. You could even write it down or… you could close your eyes and tell me. Or, I could face the other way…” he smiled, “friendship is two ways – that’s always important to me, to be able to give just the same as I take…”

“Yeah well it sounds like you give more than you take,” I murmured.

He shrugged.

I sighed, “okay, lets hit the road.”

“You drive though, I don’t think I can handle it,” he laughed.

“Okay, but you’re going to be driving more often when we do this.” I told him, giving him hope that he could disappear with me in to regularity whenever he wanted.

Michael fell asleep on the way home. He seemed to become more tired as the night progressed. I was happy that he was sleeping, he hadn’t looked like he’d seen a lot of it recently. I turned the radio on softly and sang along under my breath.

I felt alarmed when I started down Figueroa Mountain road. I saw press trucks, I saw streams of cars and traffic behind me. For a particularly deserted road, I knew something had gone wrong.

As we neared Neverland, I reached over to Michael and touched his arm. “Michael, wake up…”

He jolted awake, almost surprised to find that he was in a car. “What’s up?”

“I think the media found you…” I murmured, “look at all the cars,” I pointed out.

“Shit…” Michael murmured, “what do we do? I don’t want them to see your car.”

I pulled over. “You’ll need to get in the back, I don’t care if they see my car. I don’t want them to see you. Get in the back and put the blanket over you.”

He didn’t need much convincing. He climbed in between the two front and got in the back. He covered himself over and I pulled back on to the road and headed to Neverland.

“Malania, you’re going to need to speak to Alfred, you’ll probably need to get out.”

“Oh my God….” I murmured. There was a conclave of fans and media, all surrounding the gates of the premises. I knew I couldn’t avoid being photographed or filmed. “How did they find out…” I asked rhetorically.

I drove up as close as I could. “Start beeping the horn and get as close as you can to the gate.”

I did as he directed and made sure my car was close to the intercom and also the security shack. I put the car in neutral and prayed that no one would try to get in and go through our things and find Michael.

“Malania!” I heard a voice call, I knew it was Beth from behind the wall of journalists. I pretended not to hear. I went up to the security gate and pressed the buzzer. Alfred appeared immediately and gave me a wave.

I quickly made my way back to the car, keeping my head down the whole way. I got in the car and saw the gates opening inward and drove on inside. The flash bulbs from the cameras had been absolutely blinding. I had been in situations with Michael before where the press had been afoot, but it was nothing like this.

People had been yelling questions at me both fans and media. I had ignored them all. I was scared about what impact it might have on me, but I chose to just block it out.

Once inside, I called back to Michael. He was already sitting up in the backseat as we drove the rest of the way to the car spot I’d taken up earlier in the day.

My whole body felt tingly from the experience. Not the good kind, the kind that disallowed me from recovering too quickly. I just sat as he got out. I had to gather myself. Michael waited for a moment but realised I wasn’t getting out in a hurry. He came to the driver’s side and opened the door for me. I was still shaking.

“C’mon, let’s go on inside,” he held his hand out to me.

“I just need to sit for a moment,” I told him, ignoring his hand. I wasn’t even sure if my jelly legs could have moved.

“Okay,” he replied softly. “Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?”

“I’m okay.” I said simply. I drew in a deep breath and exhaled. I did my best to regain my composure. “Here… we left all this…” I reached over to the floor of the passenger side and handed him his Cheetos and Yoohoo. He managed a smile and took them from me. He held out his hand again and this time I let him help me up.

“I’m sorry about all of that, I really wanted to avoid exposing you to it all,” he apologised as I locked the car and followed him inside.

“Its okay… how do you think they found out?”

“Well… the guy at the store… I’m pretty certain he recognised me. That was my fault, though… I’m sure we will find out.”

I wasn’t convinced, but he had been in the game longer than I had.

Michael made a few phone calls once we got in and then we went and hung out in an entertainment room. I was sure he was stressed out too.

“Do you need to call home or anything?” he asked me. I shook my head.

We sat down and watched another movie. It was quiet and easy. Neither of us said much, both still reeling from our close call.

“I feel like I shouldn’t have convinced you to leave the house, I’m sorry, this is probably my fault,” I told him finally.

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it, it would have happened either way eventually. I’m safe here, don’t be concerned.”

I knew what he meant. Neverland certainly was great for shutting the world out.

A little while later, the doorbell went off. As if he had been expecting someone, he got up, “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said. He disappeared for a short time. I was getting ready to go and look for him when he reappeared with a smile on his face.

“Everything okay?” I asked him, wondering if he had been delivered any unsettling news about the media and fans camping outside of the property.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” he replied with a reassuring smile. I wanted to ask who it was at the door but it wasn’t really any of my business.

He sat down for a moment. I saw his foot tapping as if he was distracted. Quickly, he jumped back up and headed to one of the large, ceiling-high book shelves that lined the room. “Do you read?” he asked curiously.

Can I read?” I asked with a half-smile, “Sure, I can.”

He didn’t get the joke, he stared at me blankly, “No, I mean, do you ever read for fun?”

“Yeah, I do, actually.”

“Great… here, this is my favourite book,” he told me pulling a thick book out of the bookcase. “I think you’d like it.”

I was a little confused. He opened it to a random page. “Listen to this, its so good…” he began, making his way to the television to turn the volume down, “Don’t believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding. Find out what you already know and you will see the way to fly.”

He read with such earnest. He flipped a few pages and read silently for a moment before shaking his head, absorbed with the book that obviously meant a lot to him, “And this, this,” he started again, “The price of being understood, he thought. They call you the devil or they call you God.”

He sighed, “Jeez, ain’t that true…”

“What made you think of the book?” I asked him.

He shrugged before closing it again. “I think of this story all the time, I must have read it more than one hundred times. It makes me feel better about being so different, maybe you’d like it too.”

He handed it to me, “Jonathan Livingston Seagull” was the title. It seemed a bit dumb, but when Michael Jackson offered you a book, only an idiot would turn it down.

“Thanks, I’ll read it, I promise.”

“Great… what’s your favourite book?” he wondered, “I bet I have it, I have so many books...”  

I thought for a bit while he sifted through some others. “Its hard to choose, but… there’s something that I read through college, its called ‘Round Blue Pegs In The Squarest Skies’”

I knew the title alone piqued his interest. He turned to me, holding a book in his hands as he paced back and forth over the books, “what’s it about?”

“A kid that doesn’t fit in and the way that she sees the world isn’t the same as everyone else. She has a sincere heart and she has this wonderful artistic talent and it makes her come alive. No one really gets it. She just goes about her business from the outside of life happening around her, looking in as a spectator and feeling incredibly alone.”

“Did it resonate within you?” he asked gently.

“Yeah… I suppose so. I think just the part where she felt different, she was treated different, but nobody could quite place the part of her that differentiated her from everyone else…”

“Some people just don’t belong in society,” Michael replied with a sigh, “but those people, Malania, those are the ones who are destined to do amazing things.”

I laughed, “I don’t know about that…”

“Well, I haven’t seen your art yet, I bet you are probably a prodigy. A quiet, shy, talent who has no idea how amazing it is.”

“Alright, alright, calm down, I’m no Picasso.”  

“Well, I wouldn’t know, you’ve never shown me your art work,” he remarked.

I shrugged. “Maybe one day if you’re lucky.”

He sank down beside me and seemed a little jittery. I couldn’t quite place it. His mood had definitely swung. “Tell me more about your book.”

“The protagonist is called Penelope and at first she gets teased and picked on because of her name-“

“No, no, no…” he interrupted, “your book, your story.”

I rose my eyebrow, “You know it all. I’m a weird cross-breed of Serb and Japanese, I have a sister and two brothers… My mum spends her life baking. My Dad is a retired pilot who works in tourism now…”

“No…” he shook his head again, “tell me the truth about you, I’m not interested in how many people make up your family or what your parents do…I want to know about you, you told me this book is your favourite cos it resonates in you…”

“I really don’t know what you want me to tell you,” I replied.

He got up and paced, throwing his hands in the air, “I don’t know, what were you like as a child? Did you have many friends?”

“I was quiet and shy. I read a lot and I didn’t have many friends. My Mama and I used to spend a lot of time together.”

“What changed?” Michael asked. He was making me giddy going back and forth.

“What do you mean, ‘what changed?’ can you sit down? You’re making me feel dizzy.”

He said fell back beside me. “You said you and your Mom used to spend time together, what changed? Why don’t you spend time with her now?”

How did I tell him that while I loved her, I also pitied her which made me angry. Maybe though, maybe that was my fault.

“I grew up.”

“I bet your Mom was sad…I can only imagine how it would feel if my child grew up and didn’t want to spend time with me anymore…” I could tell a little bit of bitterness overcame him.

“Michael, is Casey Hargrave your daughter?” I asked him point-blank. I had been wondering. She didn’t look a thing like him, but my sister, Anica, looked absolutely nothing like my father.

He shook his head, “No…I wish.”

Once he shook the fog of bitterness, he turned the conversation back on me. “Why are you so closed off?” he asked. He seemed as though he was a bit annoyed with me.

I was a little surprised. “Honestly?” I asked him in disbelief. “Michael, I have no idea what you want to hear. I can tell you what you want to hear if you’d like, but you need to tell me that…”

He frowned and shook his head, “I’ve invited you in to my life and I still don’t really know anything about you… You show me these little hints of your heart and then you shut it down, its exhausting.”

I rose an eyebrow, hurt. “Fine then, I’ll go. I don’t want to exhaust you.”

“No!” he shook his head. “You wrote me this beautiful little letter and gave me an olive branch. You told me you cut because of something that happened—you told me it was a secret which is fine, but… not anything.”

“Fine!” I exclaimed, “I was quiet and shy and then I got a sort-of boyfriend who happened to be my brother’s friend. My brother found out and beat the absolute shit out of him and almost ended up in juvie, but my Mom defended him and blamed me for antagonising the situation. My parents fought like crazy over it, but in the end she won and Dad forked out the ridiculous money for his defence and he got off.”

Michael ignored the fact that I was speaking fast and was obviously upset by his constant pushing me. “Whoa, how badly did he hurt your boyfriend?”

“He nearly killed him,” I replied.

“And after that, all his aggression was directed at me and my Mom tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. My Dad was too busy traveling and working to know what the hell was going on—and it made she and I grow apart. And then the thing that is my secret happened and I wanted to die because nobody could protect me.”

“I’m sorry, Malania.”

“Whatever… there you are, now you know. Does that help?” I asked frustratedly.

“It helps me understand you,” he replied.

I was a little bit taken aback by his selfishness. “I’m glad your understanding far outweighs your concern for my personal discomfort,” I told him. My face was growing hot with emotion and anger. “I think I should go…”

“Why?” he asked, looking genuinely surprised.

“Why?” I questioned him with a raised eyebrow. He stood up when I did, seeming a confused.

“Yes… you don’t have to leave, I just wanted to talk, get to know you…”

“Let’s not kid ourselves,” my emotions took over as sometimes they had the habit of doing when I was angry or hurt, “if you weren’t in this predicament, Michael, you wouldn’t have given me the time of day. You wouldn’t have wanted to see me privately, you’d have waved and smiled and walked right past me…”

He didn’t argue but he looked hurt as I had felt just minutes earlier. I grabbed my bag, leaving the bag full of treats we had bought earlier. I placed the book of his that I’d been holding down on the couch. “You better keep it, I don’t know if or when I’ll be back…”

I started past him down the stairs. He followed me without a word.

When we got to the landing, he seemed to grow upset. “Wait…” he stopped me.

I wanted to keep on walking because I was afraid that if I stopped to look at him or to hear him out, I’d change my mind and my hurt would dissolve in to sympathy and by doing so, I’d allow this man permission to talk to me or demand whatever he wanted from me.

“What is it?” I asked without turning around to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry…” he apologised, “for making you talk. It was wrong of me to push you in to telling me private things.”

Slowly I felt myself weakening. I turned around to face him. He looked sad. Every now and then he’d lose his sprite and retreat back in to his melancholy that enshrouded him. He tried hard to hide it in my company, but I saw it all behind his eyes.

“Its okay.”

“Can I show you something?” he asked me sheepishly.

I was unsure if I wanted to agree to anything with him. I feared when he lost interest in me and if his life went back to normal the hurt was going to be too unbearable.

“Okay,” I replied meekly.

He motioned with his hand past the stairs and down a hallway behind it to a part of the house he’d yet to take me through. “My room used to be upstairs, but we changed things around when…” he paused, “well, I’ll just show you.”

I was a little bit panicked by the idea of him taking me in to his bedroom but I swallowed my stupid fear and realised that wasn’t what he was trying to do. He stopped suddenly in front of a closed door that was almost at the end of the hall.

He turned the handle and opened the door. He flipped the light on and stepped inside.

I was surprised. It was a little girl’s bedroom. Everything was a soft pastel shade of pink. The bed was a large single white bed complete with a pink canopy. The walls were pink, the bedding was pink, there was a doll house and toys scattered on the floor as though there was still a child that lived in it.

“This is where Casey lived…” he admitted.

“Until when?” I asked, surprised, “you mean, full time? She lived with you?”

He nodded. “Until about 5 weeks ago… I guess.”

“Just here with you? Where was her Mom?” I asked curiously. I had so many questions which momentarily placed my hurt on hold.

“She lived here too.”

“Diane wasn’t just your friend…” I murmured quietly, only loud enough for him to hear.

“No,” he shook his head, “no she wasn’t. We never quite put a name to it, but… we were definitely more than friends. Casey was as good as my own little girl.”

I was a little surprised by his honesty.

“I didn’t ever think it were possible for someone that I loved so much to have been able to hurt me to the extent she has.”

“The ones that we love always hurt us the worst,” I pointed out. “It hurts the most because of how much effort, love, time and emotion we put in to them.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk about something that I knew bothered you. I appreciate that you were honest, so I wanted to be honest with you too.”

“Thanks…” 

He took a step in to the room and looked around before sighing. “I’m just used to everyone telling me everything about themselves, people want me to know them inside out… they see me as a saviour I think, I’m not used to having to really work hard at getting to know a person.”

I just stared at him before shrugging, “Sorry that I’m not like everyone else you meet.”

“You might have been right upstairs about me not taking the time to befriend you if situations were different… but, maybe if your situation was different you wouldn’t turn up to see me, or we’d never have crossed paths at all… so even though there’s some merit to it, it doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re important or that I don’t care about you.”

“Okay…” I breathed in deeply, “But… I don’t want to be the person who’s around only because you don’t want to be alone.”

“Trust me,” Michael told me with a small reassuring smile, “Even though I don’t like being lonely, I don’t actually mind being alone and I’d rather be alone than in company that I don’t really want.”

“Okay,” I said again.

“So, please don’t leave… Instead lets go watch Alf or Cosby Show reruns and eat Cheetos and chocolates…”

I finally smiled. That actually sounded pretty good to me.

Chapter 18 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

This chapter has adult themes... 

** Thank you to all the new people reading and leaving reviews. I love receiving feed back, so please feel free to leave any critisisms or compliments. I am slowly getting thru posting chapters (I have completed around 44) and am updated them every few days, so if you would like to see certain things or feel like the story might benefit from something, let me know! I'm not easily offended :) 

Chapter 18

Malania and I stayed up quite late. I had organised the guest house for her, but I felt like it was the place on the grounds that I sent the people that I didn’t know to stay. It was where security stayed, or where manages and professionals stayed. I wanted to show her that I trusted her because I wanted to get to know her.

I could tell that she was fiercely loyal. When we had arrived back to Neverland, she had been subject to the media and fan panic and had done so without question and with more concern for my wellbeing than her own. I appreciated that.

I had started feeling down and sloppy when we got inside and I knew she was trying hard, trying to make sure I was okay, and always the showman, I knew I needed to take care of myself or else my emotions would begin to seep through the calm I was finally feeling.

I called Alfred to get someone to go pick up the medication I was going to ask Malania to do for me. I wasn’t going to ask her to face the gauntlet of people again.

I knew immediately after taking Adderall I was hard to keep still. I knew I’d royally pissed her off by being too pushy with her. It was frustrating because I could feel myself upsetting her, but I wasn’t in full control of it. I kept interiorly daring myself to push and push until she told me her secret, because I wanted to know her story and was so deeply ashamed that she knew mine and I didn’t get a choice as to whether or not I got to keep my personal hell to myself.

Though, despite all that, I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to make her resent me.

I knew I was being erratic from the medication and I was aware and tried to be calm but I kept losing it and jumping around and pacing.

I looked over to her and see that she was falling asleep. Thankfully with a sleeping pill, I’d taken the edge of my erratic behaviour and was able to relax. I waited until she had drifted off completely before I got up and went to the guest room that was just down the hall from my room and Casey’s.

I opened the door and tried to remember who had last slept in that room. Everything was everywhere when I’d arrived back to Neverland, I was thankful that I’d cleaned up. I remade the bed, not being able to remember if the bedding had been changed.

I put some towels out for her on the end of the bed and a small pitcher of water on the nightstand with a glass like my mother used to always leave for me.

I went back upstairs and turned the TV off. I was sorry for eating all the junk food. After eating little to no food for so long, the junk food just made my stomach churn.

“Malania…” I whispered, not wanting to startle her. She stirred a little. Her head was rested against the arm of the chair. She was half-sitting, half-laying back looking as uncomfortable as hell. She looked so peaceful. My mind went to the situation she told me about with her brother when I noticed the trace of a bruise by her eye that she had confided to me that he’d left on her.

I wondered just how many times that he’d left his handprints on her. It wasn’t fair. I am pretty sure she was half his size. She was half of anyone’s size. She was really quite beautiful, there was no denying it. I loved her jawline and her high cheekbones, it gave such a lovely shape to her face.

“Malania, sweetheart,” I whispered again.

She opened her eyes slowly. I couldn’t help but smile. She looked surprised to see me for a moment. She went to say something but it got muddled up as it came out of her mouth. I chuckled, “Aw, you were sleeping.”

“Oh jeez…” she lifted her head and wiped her mouth. I couldn’t help but to laugh, she’d been drooling in her sleep. Her face flushed when she realised I had seen.

“Its okay,” I told her, not wanting her to be embarrassed, “don’t worry, I drool puddles when I’m in a deep enough sleep.”

“Gross…” she muttered, wiping her face.

“You looked uncomfortable and so I made up a bed for you downstairs, did you want to go?”

She nodded, “Yeah, thanks…”

We headed back downstairs and I showed her in to the room before Casey’s. “So this is the room, I put some water here for you and some towels, but if you need anything I’m at the end of the hall.”

“Thanks Michael, I thought I was staying in the guest house,” she asked me. When I had originally asked her to come, I told her I would set up the guest house for her because the drive back to Fountain Valley was too far.

“Why bother going all the way to the guest house, this room is okay, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Great, well I think the last person who stayed in this room was my ex manager Larry, but as I mentioned, I changed all the bedding for you…”

“Thanks Michael, I appreciate it.”

“Okay I’ll leave you to it, have a good sleep Malania, goodnight.”

I gave her a smile as I closed the door behind me. I went in to my bedroom and closed the door behind me. If anyone had walked in, they’d probably have thought nothing had been cleaned up since the raid.

I lay down but I was still wriggly. I couldn’t keep still and I couldn’t stop my brain from ticking over.  

My stomach was feeling odd and I couldn’t stop thinking about Casey. I wished I knew where they were and how they were doing. I felt for Diane, I felt angry that someone had harmed my little baby and I knew it was probably my fault. I promised that I’d always protect her, that I’d never let anyone harm a hair on her head, but I’d failed.

I picked up the phone and I dialled Gregory’s number. I think I’d gone from avoidance to wanting answers. I knew it was late, but he had promised me that I could call him at any time I liked.

I waited for a few moments until his phone began to ring. After a few short moments a groggy voice answered. I felt bad knowing that I’d woken him up.

“Hi Greg its me, Michael Jackson.”

He mumbled something and asked me to hold the line. I waited patiently and looked up at the ceiling of my bedroom, my thoughts taking me to Casey. I tried to remember any changes in behaviour or attitude that couldn’t have been put down to childhood.

“Hi Michael, how are you feeling?” he asked me kindly as if I hadn’t just woken him up.

“I’m alright, thank you, and yourself?” I knew it was a formality.

“Good thank you- what’s on your mind?”

“I was just thinking about Casey I guess, and I was wondering a few things…”

“Shoot,” Greg urged me.

I let out a deep sigh and got up from my bed, picking up the phone and dragging it around over the bed so I had more cord to move with. I paced absently.

“Is she alright? I mean, I know its stupid to ask because I know I’m not to make contact, but since you guys told me that there was medical evidence of her being harmed, I’ve been a bit numb… And I really want to know if she’s okay…” I ranted.

“Michael, you obviously know that I haven’t seen the little girl. I’ve not yet met her nor Mrs Hargr-“

“Miss,” I corrected him, “its Miss.”

“Miss Hargrove,” he continued, “but what I do know is that she began to have night terrors and became a little withdrawn and quiet which her mother put down to illnesses and her hospital experiences.”

“Could it have been a doctor? A nurse? A family member? I mean, I don’t want to crush Casey or make any of this any more difficult for her, but was she pushed for information? Did Diane say if Casey specifically said I had touched her or hurt her?”

“Diane alleges that Casey said you had touched her inappropriately.”

I could have been sick.

I knew a child wasn’t able to make something like that up. Perhaps Diane just needed someone to blame. Casey wasn’t much of a talker. She was exceptionally shy and especially during stressful times she was withdrawn and quiet.

“I didn’t…” I replied to Greg quietly almost as if I was afraid that he wouldn’t believe me.

I breathed in deeply feeling nauseousness overtake me. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten. I sat down on the edge of the bed, clutching the ivory-coloured phone receiver to my ear and held my forehead in my other hand.

“Michael, I don’t doubt your innocence,” he assured me, “I am waiting for our own appointed psychologist to speak with Casey and Diane. I will be a witness to that and I would really be interested to know exactly what it is that she alleges you did.”

I gave another sigh of resignation. I knew he couldn’t tell me what I wanted to hear. We were saying our goodbyes when I stopped him, “Greg wait…”

“Yes Michael?”

“When we sat down the other day, you asked me to tell you anything that might be vital to the case,” I reminded him.

I knew I had his attention, “uhuh,” I knew he was afraid of a surprise, lawyers hated surprises in my experience.

“Diane and I had a child together but she miscarried it at around 3 or so months last year… we were involved in a defacto relationship. We never quite put a label to it, but I pretty much fathered Casey since I met her back when she was two. When I saw her last, we were making plans for summer…I really am having trouble processing all of this.”

It was Greg’s turn to sigh. I knew he pitied me. “That does actually help your case to know that.”

“It is hard to swallow that someone who I loved so intimately and unconditionally could believe that I would do something so disgusting, and my first instinct should be to yell and scream and lose my temper with her, but all my instincts tell me to do is to call Diane and comfort her and make sure my precious baby, Casey is getting all the help and care that she needs…”

The tears were welling in my eyes and I let them spill down my face. No one was there, no one was judging. It felt relieving.

“I understand, Michael… let me see what I can find out for you, alright?”

“Thanks Greg,” I replied, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands.

We said our goodnight and I hung up the phone. My first stop was the bathroom where I evacuated the contents of my stomach by plunging a finger in to my mouth, pressing at the very back of my tongue. The relief it brought my stomach was satisfying. I sat for a few moments by the porcelain bowl, wiping spit from my mouth and crying like a ridiculous man-child.

I got up and rinsed my mouth out and took a couple of downers and got changed in to some pajamas and waited for them to do their magic.

**

“Don’t do that…” Diane shrugged me away as she flicked through the television channels. I could tell her protests were half-hearted due to the smile that was slowly making its way across her lips.

I planted another soft kiss upon her neck, another then another, making my way to the small part of skin on her collarbone. I saw the goosebumps rise and knew it was turning her on.

“Michael…” she turned to me with a bright smile, “come on… I thought you wanted to watch a movie.”

“I do…” I flashed her a smile back, “but it can wait for a little while, can’t it?”

She chuckled and tossed the remote to the end of the couch, careful not to disrupt the cord that connected it to the television. She turned to face me beside her and slid her arms around me.

I loved the intimacy that I’d shared with this woman. She stared deeply in to my eyes, searching them and turning serious. I reached up and cupped her cheek in my hand and smoothed her skin with my thumb, “I love you…” I told her meaningfully in a gentle tone.

“I love you…” she repeated. I smoothed her long brown wavy hair that tumbled down her shoulders, stopping around her mid back. She seemed entirely weary and exhausted by life. I was the only person who she couldn’t seem to emotionally shut out. I’d seen her treat her own parents with a stone-cold exterior, not being able to give anything of herself anymore. As deeply as we both loved Casey, I could tell that the little girl had stolen the joy of life from her.

“I don’t want you to worry anymore…” I told her quietly, stroking her hair.

Instantly her eyes dropped from mine, “I can’t switch it off, Michael,”

I lifted her chin and pressed my lips against hers for a slow, lingering kiss of comfort, “I know that, but… I mean, I’m going to take care of you. You spend so much of your life taking care of Casey and I love that about you, but you forget to take care of yourself.”

“I don’t have time to think about myself,” she replied, her eyes immediately filling with tears. This woman probably couldn’t remember the last time she visited friends or the last time she had really, truly laughed. 

“I know,” I repeated again, “but I love you and I want to take care of you and I’m here entirely to help you and protect you and Casey.”

“You already do so much, I don’t know that I could do it without you…” She gave a small smile. I wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. I knew as awful as it sounded, if Casey did pass on, it would have brought with it some relief for her mother. They weren’t living, they were surviving and existing and waiting for some kind of reprieve.

“Well, you don’t need to do it without me. I’m not going anywhere, I’m totally one hundred per-cent committed to you and that little girl,” I admitted for the first time. “When Casey gets better,” I told her, “and we have time for us, I’m going to marry you…”

I saw fresh tears surfacing along with a smile that showed a tiny glimpse of the joy that the future promised us. “Do you truly mean that?” she asked, “because that-“

“I mean that with every tiny bit of my heart,” I told her.

“What if I can’t give you more children?” she asked, referring to the miscarriage, I knew that scared her and broke her heart yet again.

I shrugged, “I already have one with you…” I replied, referring to Casey, “and we can adopt or whatever.”

She didn’t reply to that, instead her arms tightened around me and embraced me. I guided her head against my shoulder. She rested there for a minute until she gained her composure before picking up where we had stopped for a chat.

It wasn’t long before we migrated to my bedroom, locking the door behind us having almost been caught out before by an almost four-year old who claimed to be having nightmares.

I loved Diane’s confidence. I turned from the door and found her at the foot of my bed, almost entirely naked save for a pair of tiny black underwear. I was a little startled that she could undress so quickly. I actually chuckled as I made my way over to her.

“You’re eager…”

She cocked her head and gave me a mock-reproachful stare. “As if you’re not…”

“Ehh…” I shrugged with a smile as I closed the distance between us. She pushed me away playfully but when I got close again, she inched her hands up my chest as she kissed me softly and unbuttoned my shirt. I helped her push it over my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.

Our kisses increased in urgency and passion as she undone the buttons to my fly and unzipped me, letting my bottoms pool at my feet. I stepped out of them, finally breaking the kiss. I grabbed her bare waist and pulled her against my hips. She encircled her arms around my neck as I hoisted her up.

I might not have been the most masculine guy to look at, but all those years of dancing and endurance training didn’t leave me without any strength. Diane began to laugh happily as I made the short distance to the bed. I knew she wasn’t expecting it and it was sure a delight to hear her burst of laughter.

I lay her on the bed and kissed her all over, remembering how awful she’d been feeling over the past few days. I wanted to help her forget if only for a moment. I wanted to free her mind and concentrate on just how much I loved her.

Diane had told me that I had been the most giving lover she’d had, that I was attentive even when it was a quick thrill. I was glad to hear that because as a result she was interested in making love with me and I was couldn’t remember a time that she had turned me down. I helped her wriggle out of her underwear and she returned the favour. It was nice to be this close with someone who didn’t make my life difficult.

I slid my hands under her back and kissed her with passion, diving my tongue in to her mouth and tasting her sweet, velvety lips. I let my kisses create a damp track down her cheek, tracing her jaw and finding their way to the part where neck and collarbone joined. I knew that spot was especially sensitive for her.

She gripped my hips tightly, pulling me against her. She wrapped her legs around me and let out a soft moan. I felt her hand squeezing the flesh of my ass, pulling me hard against her. I let my fingertips graze over from her ankles behind me, all the way to her thighs at my sides as I kissed her. I knew that ever-so-soft touch brought this woman undone.

“Oh, Michael…” she sighed.

“Mmm?” I let my voice reverberate in her ear before running my lips over the shell of her ear, sinking my teeth gently in to her lobe. She writhed beneath my sensual touch, her body arching beneath mine. I loved driving her crazy.

I lifted myself a little, feeling her hand trying to create some space below our waists so that she could touch me. I felt the palm of her hand graze against my head. My eyes fell shut, eliciting a hiss from me. I forgot the attention I was paying to her for a moment.

“Yeah?” she challenged me. I gave a little nod, yielding to her touch. She liked to always start by teasing me a little bit, it was her signature move and it got me every time, but I had been anticipating it. She went to graze her fingertips over me, but I stopped, grabbing her hand and pulling it away and pinning it above her head.

“Just let me concentrate on you…” I murmured, recapturing her lips. I shifted to the side of her and allowed my hand to find its way around her body as if it were lost and discovering her for the first time again.

Her breasts were perfect plump, fleshy mounds that she had once confided in me that she was a little self-conscious of. I didn’t understand why, but remembered my own self-esteem issues and remembered how easy it is to see our own flaws. I concentrated on them for the moment, kissing my way down the valley between them, letting my thumb trace around her nipples making her moan and clench her eyes tightly.

I loved to see the tiny little bumps surface to her skin when I hit sensitive parts of her body. I let my mouth cover one of her mounds of flesh, letting my tongue pay extra attention to her sensitive areas while my hand travelled down south, stroking the insides of her thighs teasingly, making her body arch and buck involuntarily.

“Does that feel good?” I asked, knowing the answer.

“Fuck, Michael, just touch me… please…” she groaned.

I stopped what I was doing momentarily, knowing it would drive her crazy. “Come on baby,” I teased her, “that’s nasty language…”

She managed a frustrated laugh causing me to as well. We knew very well that when I was riled up in the bedroom, I had a mouth on me. Sometimes no other words were adequate.

“Michael…” she warned me through clenched teeth. I went back to work without another word. Her body couldn’t lie to me, the moment I began to explore her I knew just how much she wanted me. She was ready and aching for me.

When I felt her hand gripping around me again, I didn’t stop her. I was just as ready for her too. My head got a little dizzy as she touched me the way she knew I liked, rubbing her thumb over the head of my member.

I hissed again, letting my neck roll back as I clenched my eyes tightly.

“Michael… I want you inside of me…” she requested of me. I never denied her. She always got what she wanted from me, I could never say no when those beautiful hazel eyes stared in to mine. I smiled at her as I hovered over her. She smiled back and let her eyes fall closed, feeling me easing inside of her warmth.

“Yess….” she groaned.

I let us get used to the warmth and the feeling of being one for a few moments as I resisted the urge to thrust. I loved the intimacy of being so close with someone. It was unlike anything I’d ever shared with another person.

I stroked her hair and her face and planted a few kisses on her cheeks and her sweet mouth. She opened her eyes and stared at me for a moment as if we were sharing similar thoughts. She reached up and ran her fingers through my curls. “I love you so much,” she blurted out.

It was a breakthrough. Diane told me she loved me and I knew that it was true, but never had she told me unprompted. She was only ever able to tell me when it was in reply to my own declaration, but this was a first.

I could have burst with joy. I grinned at her, “I love you too, my heart.”

I began to move with her rhythmically. I knew this was the part I was best at, making love to someone was a bit like music for me. Considering that I was constantly hearing a beat in my head that no one else could hear, I was able to move in time, in a perfectly synced rhythm that made it easy for her to follow and connect with. When the kick drum sounded, I thrusted deeply, when the beat played on I moved inside her in time with the sound I heard.

It wasn’t just a technique, but really what felt natural to me. Music was written in to my DNA, it was normal for me to constantly keep a beat, but when I was making love, it transcended me once again. As the music intensified so did my love making until the feelings overwhelmed me.

Diane kept up with me for awhile but I knew she was close to done and was growing tired. I could have gone on for hours when I was so transfixed by her, by the music, by the melody between us—but I allowed the beat to get faster, allowed the bass to be kicked up on a notch and the kick drum to be struck more frequently.

It became almost too much as we went deeper and deeper in to song and she tightened around me, overwhelming me and igniting a sense of urgency. I felt myself filling up and overflowing inside of her, satisfying, relieving and exhausting, leaving me overjoyed and content.

Diane was breathless and smiling, I knew she felt the same. I collapsed next to her on the pillow, allowing myself a moment to catch my breath.

“Jeez…” she muttered, “I can barely breath… that was… amazing.”

I turned my head to smile at her. I edged a bit closer, draping an arm over her protectively. “Feeling good though?”

“Yeah… what about you?” she asked between breaths, “was it okay for you?”

I lifted a hand and gave it a little ‘so-so’ gesture, “I guess”, I shrugged dismissively.

She lifted her head, eye wide with shock. She slapped my shoulder, “Michael!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” I assured her with a little giggle. She laughed too and shook her head in disbelief at my silliness. “It was wonderful, I love making love with you, it’s the best feeling…”

I absently caressed her warm body. “I’ve not been with many people, but… you really know how to do it…you must have really sexed it up in your earlier years”

I laughed, I knew it was her light-hearted way of asking if I’d slept around a lot. “Hardly…I have probably slept with three different partners… you being the third.”

“It just blows my mind… every time we make love, Michael, you make me forget. My mind literally goes blank and I can concentrate on you and nothing else and sometimes I hate that I can’t give you all of me, all the time…”

It was probably the most telling thing she’d said to me. It inferred that she wanted me, she wanted to be committed to me, she wanted to love me and give herself to me, but her very day worldly worries stopped her. She was a woman burned from life and probably scared that giving herself to me would cause her great pain in the long run.

“I know, but its okay. I know there’s a future for us and I’m patient and right now we give so much of ourselves to Casey, but that’s why I told you I’m going to take care of you. I have people who can take care of me and knowing that you love me is enough, Diane, honestly… you’ll always have me and I’ll never, ever let you down or hurt you.”

“Promise?” she whispered. I knew being left pregnant without a father for her unborn baby burned her more than she ever let on. It created a family faction that never quite repaired properly and left her feeling more alone than ever when her baby had developed the tumours.

“I promise you.” I said solemnly, planting a kiss on her lips. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Good… I’d be lost without you, you are absolutely the love of my life, even if I’m not ready yet…”

“That’s okay, I’m ready whenever you’re ready; whenever Casey is ready.”

She breathed in slowly and deeply and let out a long, contented sigh. I had never been more certain of my future. Loneliness was never going to prevail me again. Diane Hargrove was my forever, always.

Chapter 19 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

* Trigger warnings for this chapter. Suicide, self-injury, sexual abuse and ED themes. If you feel like you might be bothered by any of these things, please do not read this chapter.
** Thank you to all the new people reading and leaving reviews. I love receiving feed back, so please feel free to leave any critisisms or compliments. I am slowly getting thru posting chapters (I have completed around 44) and am updated them every few days, so if you would like to see certain things or feel like the story might benefit from something, let me know! I'm not easily offended :) 

Chapter 19:

I stared blithely at the stark ceiling above me. I heard people coming in and out. I heard the words that they spoke to me, but I didn’t feel much like responding. I didn’t want to eat, I didn’t want to drink, I just wanted to die.

I wasn’t even sure if I’d been medicated or if the way I felt was due to what had happened to me. I was tired of letting one person systematically destroy and terrorise me. I wouldn’t let it happen anymore.

I was sick of the unceasing apologies that meant absolutely nothing to me in the moment. I wasn’t even hurt because quite frankly I wasn’t even surprised.

I kept going over it all in my head trying to make some sense of it, trying to figure out what exactly it was that triggered the reaction that was inflicted upon me.

I arrived home late the following afternoon. Michael had insisted that I use one of his cars, promising that if I left in my Honda, that the media would immediately follow me given that they would have already figured out who I was if any of the fans worded them up. I took home a double-tinted black Mercedes that he told me to use as if it were my own car.

There were hoards of fans outside of Neverland again, but thanks to the heavy tinted windows, nobody could have seen inside.

Waiting at home was a car that I recognised as my sister’s and both of my parents were home. I grabbed my bag from the car and let myself in the front door. I decided to play it cool unless anyone mentioned otherwise.

Once inside, I dropped my keys down on the mantle piece and heard all the voices in the kitchen. I smiled to see my 3 year old niece run from the kitchen and down the hall to the foyer to greet me. 

“Hiiii Dani!” I greeted her with all of the enthusiasm I could muster after dealing with a moody adult all night.

“Auntie!” she greeted me with a big grin as I swept her up from the ground and balanced her on my hip.

“Malania?” I heard a voice call out. It was Anica. I followed the source, putting my hand bag down. “Where’s Mommy and Daddy?” I asked my neice rhetorically. She pointed to the family room.

It was just Anica and my parents. I smiled, I didn’t want them to think anything was wrong. “Hi Anica, Hi Mama, hi Daddy.”

Anica rose an eyebrow and exchanged terse expressions with my father. Mama and Anica sat side by side while my Dad sat on an armchair. I was pretty sure I was about to get a lecture.

“Did you enjoy your jaunt last night?” Anica asked me, speaking first.

“Dani, why don’t you go and play?” I asked her, not wanting her to witness words between my sister and I.

“Her name is Danijela.”

“Go play, Danijela,” I repeated, kissing the temple of my niece who looked exactly like Anica did. There was not a bit of kindness in my sisters voice. I waited til I was satisfied that Dani had scooted off before I turned back to them.

“Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed my jaunt last night,” I replied in an unmoved tone, “why do I feel like I’ve just walked in to an intervention?”

“We’re worried about you, Malania,” my father said quietly. I winced, he didn’t extend my name which made me realise he meant business.

“I got phone, Malania, at work from random people and media stations asking if my sister was holed up with Michael Jackson at his fucking paedophile ranch!”

I could have launched myself at her but I didn’t. I inhaled deeply. My sister knew I travelled to see him but it was always an ignored fact about my life. She always pretended it wasn’t happening which was fine by me.

“And let me guess, you’re here to find out if it were true, because God knows you never give a toss what I’m up to at any other time…” I threw back, giving her the same attitude.

So many years I had felt like the little girl that I let everyone boss around, including my parents even if their intentions weren’t the best for me.

“Don’t be a little smart ass, Malania, you disappear for weeks at a time and you let Mom and Dad worry like crazy, you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”

“Girls, girls, please… stop.”

“Oh cram-it, Anica, you have no idea. I’m an adult, I don’t have to answer to you or to Mom and Dad if I don’t want to.”

“You do when Mom and Dad are funding your fucking stalking adventures.”

I just shook my head and looked to my father for help. “Are you just going to sit there?” I looked to my mother, “you?”

I tried not to let my emotions get a hold of me because the second that I did, I knew it would have lost the fight for me.

I turned to my Mom, “I help you with your work when your back is playing up, I help you cook and clean and keep the house and even when you are alone when Dad is away, you beg me to stay and keep you company and I do…” I turned to my Dad, “and you, you promised me that you would stop letting this happen—“ he knew exactly what I was getting at. He stared at me apologetically.

“Anica, I don’t care what you think of me. Why should I care about you when you’ve never given a shit about me?”

“Oh right,” she replied, standing up, “I’ve never given a shit about you… I was the one who scraped your fucking cold, lifeless body up out of the fucking bathtub when I was barely out of high school… you’re the one who shut me out, you’re the one who never explained yourself and left us all thinking it was our fault.”

It was your fault I wanted to scream.

I was losing control. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. “Well, maybe you should have just left me there and neither of us would be arguing about it now, would we?” I snapped back.

She reached over and slapped me hard across the cheek. I grabbed my face in shock. It immediately began to sting. My mother and father quickly rose up to intervene in case I struck her back, but I was furious neither of them intervened sooner.

I didn’t say anything else. I went up to my bedroom and refused to come out even after my sister left.

Round two began a short while after. I was at my desk looking through the newspaper for jobs, determined to find something closer to L.A so I could get a place and get the hell out of home. I was calming down slightly listening to some classical music that Michael had loaned me.

He promised it sounded a thousand times better with earphones and insisted that I take his wildly expensive set with me. He was extremely generous, probably too much so.

I didn’t exactly remember much of what happened. I remembered being hit from behind. When I spun around, I was hit again. The force and the sheer surprise and shock of the attack knocked me instantly to the ground. I felt blood and heard yelling and screaming but all I could focus on was the broken headphones beside me.

I remembered flashes of insults being thrown at me; the words ‘paedophile, reputation, embarrassment, slut, whore, nigga lover, shame’. I knew that the source of the voice and the continual blows were Samuel, there was no one else in my family who could be so violent, brutal and terrifying.

I felt every single kick to the flank, I felt myself being dragged across the carpet by the hair. I feebly begged him to stop, though the first blow had all but knocked me out.

Right before I blacked out I heard his voice close to my ear, “You are a shameless piece of shit, you are an embarrassing little whore. Whoring yourself to a paedophile now, are you? No one is off-limits to you, are they? I’d know…”

As a result, I was in the hospital. My father had told me that Samuel was arrested, that he would probably spend time in jail. Too little, too late.

I wasn’t speaking to them. In fact, I wasn’t speaking to anyone. I had fleeting thoughts about Michael and hoped that in the five days since seeing him, that he was doing okay.

The doctors kept telling me that my facial fracture was healing nicely, but I didn’t care. I had internal bruising but my continued stay in hospital was due to the psych hold. Given my history with suicide and cutting and the fact that I refused to speak to anyone; family, doctors, nurses, police – they had placed me back in the psychiatric unit.

It was probably for the best. I knew at the first opportunity I’d have attempted to take my own life – laying for so long without any interaction gave me more than enough time to romanticise the idea of getting it done.

I had never felt more alone or more like nobody loved me. I knew my parents loved me but I felt like love should have been unconditional – whereas so far it was only ever unconditional for my brothers and sister. They didn’t care for me, they didn’t protect me; they were continually letting others hurt me and harm me and terrorise me.

A psychologist tried to speak with me but gave up after too long and instead made some observations.

I was certainly surprised to hear a faint knock at the door of the room I was staying in. I didn’t look up, I half-expected it to be my mother. I did a double take as Michael appeared by my bedside.

His face was full of concern and tension but still, he smiled a loving, unflinching smile despite the mess that was my face. He dragged the chair up and behind him was a large, bald, security officer who shut the door and allowed us privacy.

“Malania…” his voice trailed off, “I’m so sorry.” I knew he felt guilty, I didn’t know how he knew that he was the reason for my brother losing his mind, but he obviously figured it out.

I couldn’t speak. His sheer presence, after all that he was going through himself, rendered me emotional. I felt the tears slide from my eyes down the sides of my face, disappearing in to my hair. I still had a lot of trouble moving.

He took my hand. I could barely stand to look at him. I was embarrassed and ashamed of how I looked and that he was visiting me in a fucking psychiatric unit.

“They said you aren’t speaking to anyone; that you’re not eating or drinking or assisting the police with your own case…”

“What’s the point…” I spoke in a hoarse whisper.

He smiled, “I told them I’d get you speaking in no time…” he joked, giving my hand a little squeeze. He smoothed my hand softly within his. He said nothing, but rather surveyed me for a moment. I knew he was trying to be cheerful, but he was worried about me. I hadn’t seen my face yet, I was sure I looked awful.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked kindly, standing, “can I help prop you up? You must be getting a sore back from laying down.”

Before I had a chance to respond he was fussing around, trying to figure out how to make the bed move up. Before I knew it, I was being elevated up in to a 45 degree sitting position.

“I don’t want you to see me like this…” I murmured, feeling all of my tears falling down my face.

“I’d completely respect that generally speaking,” he replied, “but its too late.”

“How did you know I was here?” I asked him, reaching up gingerly to wipe my eyes.

“I thought it was strange that you never called like you said you would. So, I called twice and each time your mother said you were away and that she’d get you to call back… and on the third time, I got concerned and told her exactly who I was.”

I tried not to feel furious about my mother lying to save the family reputation – or at least Samuels. “She said you had an accident and that you were in the hospital. I wasn’t sure if you caused your own accident or if something happened as a result of the press seeing you – so I did some research and found you and now I’m here.”

I was grateful that he’d gone to an effort to see me. My mother knew that I didn’t want a bar of her in that moment. She barely turned up and when she did, she just cried because I refused to speak to her.

“How are you?” I asked him, wondering if anything had changed in the almost week that I’d been within the confines of the stinky white walls.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry about me, let’s worry about you. What actually happened?”

I shrugged and then shook my head. My mouth and lips were dry, but each time I licked them it was like pouring citric juice on a mouth ulcer. “Did your brother do this?” he wondered.

I just nodded. It was shameful and embarrassing.

“God, he could have killed you…” Michael murmured as he let his eyes study the bruises and abrasions on the entire left side of my face. He reached over and ran his fingers along my cheekbone that spent much of the day throbbing. His touch made me flinch, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

“I wish he did…” I mumbled.

He drew away for a moment and stared at me. “I don’t like hearing that from you, you will be okay from this, Malania, I promise.”

“Yeah?” I asked, “how? I’m 22 and my brother is responsible for two of this psych stays. He’s responsible for beating the shit out of me goodness knows how many times. My parents?” I shook my head as I tried to steady the sobs that wanted to break free, “they could have protected me, but they didn’t. They’re all talk, no one can protect me from him, they never have and they never will.”

“I’ll protect you,” he vowed, “I promise. I won’t let anyone harm you. Your brother won’t even be allowed near you.”

“I’ve heard that before…” I replied bitingly even though I was pretty sure Michael could more easily keep his word.

He circled my bed and sat down on the mattress beside me. For whatever reason, he cared and I was so happy to have that.

“We made a pact, Malania,” he reminded me, grabbing my hand again and smoothing my hair gently with his other. I could only imagine what a mess I looked, “we promised we wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

“I know…” I agreed, letting the tears flow from my eyes, “but its so hard, you don’t understand…”

“I do understand,” he insisted. He scooped me forward and held me close to him and let me cry, “I do… I get it, you’re scared… I’m scared too,” he kissed the side of my temple and gingerly wrapped his arms around me, afraid to hurt me.

I reciprocated his embrace. Frankly, this was the only genuine person left in my life since my family were a write-off.

It was nice to be around someone who didn’t require me to say much, but rather was just happy to keep me company.

I began to tell me him what happened when I arrived home – about my sister and our fight, about being slapped, my parents not bothering to step in. When I’d confronted my mother she had held up her hands and said that it was between us, that it was our choice to become violent. It was Anica’s choice, I was the least confrontational person that existed.

I knew deep down inside my mother probably agreed with Anica and sided with her over my choices and hated what I’d said in reply that set her off. I understood that it probably wasn’t kind, but I was tired of being pushed.

After a short few minutes, I managed to compose myself. I felt Michael’s lips against my forehead as I sank back against the bed wincing in pain.

“Can you do me a favour and eat something or drink something?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

He breathed in deeply and chuckled with a shake of his head, “Jeez you’re like me some days…  Alright you wanna know a secret?”

I didn’t say anything, but waited til he was ready to speak. “I haven’t really eaten since the allegations. I eat a little here and there but I can’t remember the last time I ate an entire meal.”

“You’ve eaten with me.”

“I know… but it hasn’t been a meal and I really have had issues holding anything down. But if you eat a meal, I’ll eat a meal with you, a proper one.” I knew he was bargaining with me because he either felt responsible for what happened or because he was desperate for me to feel better.

I had already gathered that he was the kind of person who couldn’t stand for others to feel bad.

“I don’t want to eat. How can I even eat when it hurts to move my fucking mouth,” I snapped.

He had all the patience in the world for me, I was incredibly grateful for that, even if I was being difficult.

“Well, what can I do?” he asked, “what will make you feel better—and right now it can be a temporary happiness, focus on day by day – can I bring you something?”

I shook my head. “Can I be honest?”

He nodded, “Of course…”

“I don’t want anything. I don’t want food, drink, visitors, doctors, I just want to lay here and I want to waste away and I want to die and I don’t want anyone to pretend they care or to feel guilty or to do anything…”

I felt awful when I saw his face fall. He looked a little heartbroken for the second. He shook his head and looked back at me. I avoided his eyes. “Malania, right now you’re the only person in this world that understands me and I am not going to let you lay down and die… And I don’t even care if that’s selfish.”

I couldn’t even speak. I didn’t know what to say. The whole time he’d spent with me was spent with me crying.

“I’m going to bring you some things next time I visit you. I’m going to bring you some books and some things that have worked in cheering me up when I’ve been feeling really low.”

“Okay,” I responded.

He sat with me for well over a few hours. I was pretty sure he hated being alone too. His security guard told him it was time to go. He told me it was because he had a meeting with his lawyers but didn’t want to tell me the details. He gave me a hug and a kiss and promised to be back.

I didn’t expect him to come back for days.

Almost immediately after he left, my father and mother arrived together. It was almost as though they were putting on a united front. Their presence alone was enough to infuriate me.

“Have you eaten yet my sweetheart?” my Mama questioned me. I glared at her and said nothing. I turned to my Dad and noticed he was staring dumbly around the room.

“Malania, please, please speak to me, šećeru, this is very hard for us…”

I gaped at her selfishness. I knew my father saw the moment the blinding hatred filled my heart. “You?” I choked on the words, Its hard for you?” I could barely breathe.

“You let my brother beat the absolute living god out of me and its hard for you! Not only did you let him beat me but you let him spend his fucking entire days brutalising me, terrorising me, he almost killed my one and only friend and then he raped me, and raped me and fucking raped me!” I yelled feeling my voice getting louder and louder until I was screaming.

“And the two of you did nothing!” my mother was shaking her head, holding her hands over her ears, my Dad was trying to get me to lower my voice and was telling me to calm down but I think it was only in an effort to drown out the things that they didn’t want to hear.

“STOP!” I yelled, “just STOP!” my father put an arm around my mother and told her to sit. There was some quiet in the room for a moment and two people; nurses, I think, had rushed in to see what the commotion was about.

“What’s going on?” the woman asked in a tone that demanded an explanation.

“My parents were just leaving.”

“No,” my father replied, “we weren’t. We are having a family discussion, I’d appreciate some privacy.”

Wow, I thought, now suddenly you want to speak up with authority.

The nurse looked at me for my permission. I shrugged. It felt good to see my mother suffering.

“You can hit that buzzer any time you need us, Malania,” the man with the nurse told me. He gestured to the buzzer that was beside my bed. I just nodded.

My mother was whimpering and crying and making me angrier.

Once they left I turned to my father, “you both kept Samuel out of trouble when he should have spent time making reparations for what he did to Luke. Instead, you protected him and that turned him in to an even bigger monster and for the past 6 or 7 yrs I have lived in fear of him—no one gave a shit about me and I’m done.”

“That’s not true, we were here every day for you when you hurt yourself, I sat by your side, I cancelled trips, your mother stopped working,” he told me, seeming to ignore the accusations I made against my brother. I wasn’t particularly surprised.

“So fucking what!” I exploded, “you should have cancelled trips, she should have stopped working. I almost died because of what Samuel drove me to. And you knew you fucking knew it was because of something he done but you still didn’t try to keep him away from me.”

“Why do you say these things about him? Please, šećeru, hasn’t this family suffered enough?”

I laughed through my rage. “You,” I pointed at my mother, “are the most pathetic excuse for a woman. Your son rapes your daughter and terrorises her with it, drives her to suicide and you’re still trying to protect him? I hope Samuel rots away in a jail cell. I am not keeping this secret anymore. I’m going to tell the police the truth. I’m going to also tell them the truth about Luke. I am going to make sure he rots, it’ll be the best thing I can do for his family.”

Even Samuel’s own family were frightened of him. I was pretty certain the only reason why his wife stayed was because she was too scared to leave.

My mother got up and left. My father hung back and stared at me in disbelief. “That was the most hurtful thing and hateful thing that has ever come from your mouth.”

“I’m sorry for that,” I told him, calmly. “But really, what have you both done to protect me? Nothing. That’s why I’m here. And I truly wished he had of killed me, Papa, because maybe then you both would have felt bad… right now you still think I’m the one in the wrong.”

“I don’t think you’re in the wrong,” he replied, surprising me, “but I don’t believe you had to hurt your mother in order to tell her the truth.”

My mother wasn’t going to believe it anyway. I didn’t even care.

“I think you should go.”

 

He didn’t say goodbye, he left and I felt a strange sense of satisfaction that was coupled with a heavy wave of sobs that encumbered me until the early morning where it all turned to relief—a kind of weight off my shoulders.

Chapter 20 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

* Trigger warnings for this chapter. Suicide, self-injury, sexual abuse and ED themes. If you feel like you might be bothered by any of these things, please do not read this chapter.
** Thank you to all the new people reading and leaving reviews. I love receiving feed back, so please feel free to leave any critisisms or compliments. I am slowly getting thru posting chapters (I have completed around 44) and am updated them every few days, so if you would like to see certain things or feel like the story might benefit from something, let me know! I'm not easily offended :) 

Chapter 20

Casey’s illness became a way of life for Diane and I and while I hated to see her pain and her sickness, it didn’t seem to affect me after awhile; we were desensitised. Caring for Diane became second nature, being her emotional crutch was easy because it was just the way our relationship seemed to fall.

With Malania, she had spent all of her energy caring for me and being a good friend that she had forgotten about herself. She put me first and her loyalty was fierce like I had come to expect. But, I felt so selfish and so thoughtless and careless.

I was barely able to concentrate on my meeting with my lawyer. I met him in L.A – getting away from Neverland for the few days was great. We’d managed to use a decoy to slip away unnoticed and I was staying at my apartment in Hidden Hills – the only place that hadn’t been raided because the purchase wasn’t under my name.

Greg visited and it felt a little less stressful. He updated me about what evidence the police thought they had. It wasn’t anything that I was worried about because I knew I truly had nothing to hide. Casey was due to have a visit with an independent psychologist later in the week and Greg promised he would share the results with me.

Until then, I really just had to sit and wait.

“Carsen,” I called out after my lawyer had left, “can you do some errands for me?” I asked the six-feet-something giant that now worked for me. He was high-class security, and as polite and as sweet as I’d come to realise he was, he definitely wasn’t to be messed with.

“Yes Mr. Jackson, what can I do for you?” he came to meet me in the living area of the comfortable and small apartment.

“Can you find an art supply store? I’ll need a sketch book, some pastels, watercolours and some really good quality coloured pencils.” I knew he probably would have already forgotten my request, “would you like me to write a list?” I asked him.

“That would be great, Mr. Jackson,” he agreed.

I wrote down a list of things and even included some books and a last visit to the pharmacy for me. I was running out of sleeping pills and I was having trouble sleeping without them.

After he left, I made a call to Liz who had recently arrived back in the country earlier the day before. I wanted to update her and let her know I was doing okay; she was the only person that knew where I was.

I knew she was relieved to hear from me.

I didn’t do much. I made a few calls, trying to find a good psychologist that I could refer Malania to when she decided that she wanted help. I had a nap when I started feeling myself coming down and forced some food down and called the hospital, pretending to be Malania’s brother, who luckily I remembered the name of; Kaito. I found out that she was no longer taking visitors for the day but that they could check with her in the morning to see if she wanted to see me.

When Carsen arrived back, I took a sleeping pill and went back to sleep.

 

Creativity had completely left me since the allegations broke, but I woke up in the morning with a little bit of heart about me again. I had a bee in my bonnet and leapt out of bed, feeling myself sense some brightness about seeing Malania. I wanted her to see that my friendship was not one of convenience, but of mutual care. I’d spent my adult life in one-ended friendships or relationships and I liked that she knew how to support me too.

I headed out to the dining area where I’d left all of the art supplies and the little gifts that I’d bought for her. I sank down in to the dining chair and stared for a moment at the blank page on the sketchbook. I spread out the supplies, pastels, grey-leaded pencils, coloured pencils and sharpies. I plucked up a grey-leaded pencil and sharpened it until it was as fine-tipped as it could be.

I began to draw, letting my pencil dance its way all over the page. I drew a girl resembling Malania crouched in a corner, hugging herself, her knees tucked beneath her chin and beside her was man, resembling myself sitting beside her and holding her hand, hugging himself in the same way with his knees beneath his chin.

I thought of it being a little bit dark, but I drew in her scars, mine too. I wrote words beside it that seemed to flow easily from my mind. I knew everything I wrote, she could relate to. I was sure that was why our friendship came so easily. Sometimes there didn’t need to be words, the connection between us was so strong and so deep that I was always knew when something was underlying, something was bothering her and when she was hiding something.

I spent some time on the art that I’d just filled the large, crisp white page with before I closed it up, satisfied and went to clean up and shower.

**

It was a process, trying to visit Malania without everyone losing their minds. I was scared of the way people would react to me. In advance I had Carsen check in with the head of the psychiatric unit to let them know I was visiting Malania. Thankfully, like all of my hospital stays and trips with Casey, the medical units were generally very good with privacy.

Everyone was accommodating and Malania applied an exception to her clear-cut no-visitors rule. It made my heart hurt a little that she was blocking out her entire family when I knew she probably needed them. I knew she had to be hurting from what had happened.

When I walked in I was less confronted and less shocked by the swelling and purple-yellowish bruising all over one side of her face. “Hi, beautiful…” I greeted her. Her eyes were absolutely lifeless. I knew immediately something had changed since the morning before when I had visited.

I had the bag full of art supplies with and a bouquet of flowers. I knew girls liked flowers, I did too, but I wasn’t entirely sure Malania was that kind of girl.

“I don’t know if its lame, but I brought you these…” I explained, placing the boxed bouquet on to a table by her bed.

“Thanks…” her voice trailed off.

“I brought you some things.” It was a little bit awkward when she wasn’t overjoyed to see me or really responding to my presence. Perhaps I was a little egotistical, but her reaction deflated me a little—but never-the-less, I was trying.

I took the items out, “I got you that book that you never took home from me, my favourite book; the seagull one. I know you didn’t seem that interested at the time, but I promise, it’s a good read.”

She didn’t seem even slightly moved by the book in my hands. I placed it on the hospital table and pulled out the next item, “a good classic, To Kill A Mockingbird—I’m sure you’ve read it, but its so great…” I continued, “art supplies,” I listed off the things as I unpacked them all. “And a sketchpad, maybe you can use it as a bit of an outlet—I know I do that.”

As I finished, waiting for her to say something, a bunch of words came from her mouth completely muddled by the flood of tears that overwhelmed her.

“I’m sorry,” I crooned softly as I made my way quickly to her bed side, my first instinct was to comfort her. I sat down on the mattress, “I didn’t catch what you said…”

I waited patiently. She drew in a deep breath, her whole body trembling with her tears. “I ruined your headphones…” she admitted as though she had just confessed she’d stolen a thousand dollars from me.

I chuckled in disbelief, “what? My headphones?” I thought for a second and remembered that I’d loaned her a pair of high quality headphones. Even though I probably used the word loan, I never would have remembered or cared enough to ask for them back.

She nodded, “they are broken, I don’t think we can fix them…”

“Its fine,” I smiled at her, I took her hand and smoothed my hand over her inner wrist to comfort her, “they’re just headphones, they’re replaceable.”

Malania wiped her eyes with her hands. I wasn’t used to her being so emotional. “I tried to protect them…”

I wondered why the hell she was so focused on a pair of stupid headphones when she had much bigger things going on. I didn’t bother trying to reassure her, it was obviously bothering her.

“I was listening to that Vivaldi tape with the headphones when it happened, he ruined it,” she cried, “he didn’t care that they weren’t mine…”

“Malania,” I steadied her trembling hands in mine, “I don’t care about the headphones or the tape, its not your fault. I am just relieved that you’re okay.”

I felt a lump form in my throat when I realised the strange ability we had to remember the tiniest most insignificant instances during tragedy or the kind of surreal moments where everything else seemed like such a blur.

“He ruins everything,” she whispered, “he ruined me.

“No, he didn’t,” I insisted, “he hurt you, he damaged you, he may have terrified you, but he did not ruin you,” I told her firmly, staring in to her eyes. She avoided mine as quickly as she met them.

“You probably won’t be allowed to leave the pencils and sharp things in this room when you leave,” she told me. I realised exactly why and mentally took notice of how sparse the room was – it was for good reason.

“That’s okay, I’ll take them with me and I’ll bring them back next time,” I told her, “And I’ll get you a new set of headphones and another classical tape.”

“Don’t,” she shook her head, “stop being so nice, it makes me feel even worse.”

I just chuckled, “You don’t get to tell me what to do, we’re friends and I care about you.”

“Well you shouldn’t, you should leave and never come back—forget you met me, forget I came in to your life, that’s what’s going to happen when you get exonerated and I want to save us both the pain.”

I was confused, I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes slightly, trying to understand. “That’s just a tiny bit insulting,” I murmured. I didn’t take offense though, I knew what she was doing, I’d done it too. I was scared of people leaving me, so I tried to push them away and treat them awfully so as they’d leave on my terms.

“If you didn’t want me here, you wouldn’t have allowed me the right to visit you,” I pointed out, “and I’m here cos I want to be.”

We sat in silence. I asked her if she wanted to watch TV but she shook her head. I walked around the room, picking up leaflets and read them.

I found out that she had to rent the television. I wondered if her parents had taken care of it. I picked up the remote and turned it on- it’d been blocked out. It made sense as to why she was laying around sleeping and not much else.

Without a word, I knocked on the door. I knew Carsen was waiting just by the door. He opened it and looked at me expectantly. He was ready to make arrangements for us to leave, but instead I directed him to go and sort out the television for her.

“Have you seen your parents today?” I asked her, trying to get a conversation going.

I took a seat on the hospital chair.

“Nope. I don’t want to see them. I hope they stay away.”

“But your Mom and you, you’re so close, don’t you think she’ll be worried?” I wondered.

“Michael, its complicated, you wouldn’t understand. They could not give less of a shit about me and I’m done.”

I didn’t really believe that they didn’t care, but I was sure that I knew where her line of thinking came from. “You know, when I was a kid, my father was abusive toward me,” I admitted. I knew it was a story that was probably well known, but I knew that the world had no idea just how severe that abuse was at times.

“But he didn’t almost kill you.”

“No, but I remember having the wind beaten out of me on more than one occasion. I remember him beating me senselessly until I couldn’t sit down or lay down. He was emotionally abusive too…” I had to give my head a little shake as it began to cloud with bad memories, “but you know what hurt my soul more than the beatings or the emotional abuse?” I asked her.

She shook her head.

“Its that no one protected me for it. My mother would console me the second it was safe to do so, but her advice was always to avoid my father or to stop angering him, to try harder at being good.”

I knew by her reaction that that was exactly what the problem was. “I told them my secret yesterday. I blurted it out and they blamed me, Michael,” she confessed, “I was so furious with their selfishness, and I’m tired of pretending- my mother actually blocked her ears like a fucking child and she acted like I was lying.”

I had figured that the secret was the beatings that he constantly tormented her with. “My mother is the same when it comes to Jermaine. She makes excuses for every little thing he does and it feels like she loves him more, but its just that she can’t handle the fact that one of her children isn’t the perfect person she’s envisioned him to be.”

She sighed. “I can’t go back there,” she stared at the ceiling, “I don’t have a place in this world anymore, I just want someone to take me out so I don’t have to do it myself.”

“I have an apartment in Hidden Hills, when you leave here, you can stay there.”

She scoffed as if she didn’t believe me. I wasn’t going to press it further, but I’d already assigned the place for her. I couldn’t stand to see her in pain and my affection for her was growing with our common friendship.

Carsen stuck his head in to the room interrupting us. He gave us a thumbs up. I knew Malania had no idea what that meant.

“How about you sit up?” I suggested. She shrugged. I moved her mattress up right and clicked the on button back on the television. She saw that it was unblocked. For a moment I was sure I saw a tiny flicker of a smile, but it was gone as quickly as it surfaced.

“How about we watch TV together?” I asked, “that way, neither of us have to think.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Does it still hurt to move?”

“Just in my side…” she placed a hand to the opposite side of her. I went to take a seat in the chair, but I saw that she was wriggling right over, “here… there’s room for you here.”

I just smiled. Somehow, we both squeezed on to the tiny bed side-by-side. I knew if a doctor or a nurse were to come in, it would look like something was going on, but there wasn’t.

I felt her fingers slowly finding their way in to my hand. I laced mine through hers and gave her hand a squeeze. I turned my head to the side, facing her, “I’m not leaving you—not today, not in a year, never.”

I saw her eyes welling up again but I decided not to turn it all in to a huge moment. She was emotional and I was just going with it.

**

I woke up from a short nap with Malania’s weight being shifted beside me. I jumped awake, feeling bad for falling asleep. I sat up, “are you okay?”

She nodded, “I just woke up… I’m feeling nauseous.” Before I knew it, Malania had hit the nurse button.

A nurse barged past my security who was manning the door and trying to look casual about it. She looked incredibly startled to see me, but quickly went about business, “what can I do for you?” she asked Malania.

“I think I’m going to be sick again, they took the pan away.”

The nurse thought for a moment and the two of us looked around the room for something. I passed her a wastebasket, “here…” I plucked it up from the ground and passed it to her.

“I’ll bring back a pan for you,” the nurse suggested as she headed back out the way she came with some urgency. I stood to the side of the bed and watched her wince and hiss in pain as she sat forward over the basket. “You have to leav-“ she didn’t finish her sentence, her eyes fell closed and she began to bring up the empty contents of her stomach.

I wasn’t particularly weak of the stomach, so I stood by her the way I knew she would have for me and stroked her hair and rubbed her back. I wondered if the nausea was a reaction from the injuries, or if she was so unwell emotionally that it brought her an upset stomach like it usually did for me.

I got her some tissues so that she would wipe her face just as the nurse arrived back with a warm face washcloth and a new vomit pan for her which I was sure was just a clean bed pan. She thanked the nurse and patted her face with it and sat for a moment.

“Malania, you’re so ill because you’re not eating enough. You need to eat something or else you’re going to get weak. If you don’t eat we’re going to have to put you on a drip or feed you the way we feed eating disorder sufferers.”

It made me a little bit frustrated the way the nurse spoke to her like she was a child, but it was a serious situation. However, I understood how she felt. I hated being forced to eat and forcing me to eat meant that I just went away to get rid of it later. It wasn’t an eating disorder, it was just a way to deal with the pain.

The dark haired nurse looked at me and literally looked me up and down as if she were judging me, and given the situation that I was in, that I had temporarily forgotten about, she probably was, “Maybe you can convince her.”

“Maybe.” I murmured, watching the nurse turn and leave with the wastebasket.

I waited for Malania to calm down from her sickness.

“Sweet,” I began gently, I wasn’t huge on pet names, but I knew how good they sounded when someone used them on me and I was trying to treat her the way I liked to be treated during crisis, “are you alright?”

“I wish you’d leave…” she blurted out, covering her face so I couldn’t see her.

I honestly didn’t believe she meant that for one minute. If I felt like she did, I would have been out of there. “I wish you’d stop pushing me away. We’re friends and I am here to be your friend the way you have been mine.”

“If you had somewhere else to be, you would be,” she accused me, leaning back on to the bed, covering her face with the washcloth. I knew she felt ashamed that she’d come so far undone before me, but none of it particularly phased me.

“That’s not true. If I had other things to do, I’d clear my schedule. That’s what I do when my friends need me. The people that are close to me always get my first priority.”

When she didn’t say anything else, I continued, “did you know, since the allegations have broken, only one single friend of mine has reached one, Malania, one – and then you, you’ve dropped everything for me over the past few weeks and now you need me and I’m going to take care of you.”

“At least one person cares about me…” I heard her murmur from beneath the cloth.

“Your parents care about you, it just might be that they aren’t properly equipped to know how to support you.”

She scoffed but said nothing in reply.

I figured she didn’t want to argue with me. “Michael, when does it stop?” she asked me, finally pulling the cloth from her face to reveal some emotion, “I mean, when does the awful things stop happening and when does life start begin to feel good? I just… hate life.”

I knew how she felt. I sighed and shrugged, “We have to align ourselves with the right people I guess, and pray…”

“Fuck praying,” she cursed.

“Don’t,” I warned her. My faith was all I really had at the moment. Despite all that had transpired, I still had faith in people and in God.

“Praying has never helped with anything. You can’t sit there after loving a woman who accused you of raping her child and tell me that you still have faith in God. If there was a God, Michael, you’d be always in his favour,” she told me.

I thought for a moment, wincing at her speaking the allegations out loud and so bluntly as if she were breathing new life in to my hurt and pain. “Well, I guess the way I look at it, is that God doesn’t want us to suffer, but he can’t control the things that other people do. He can’t control Diane making accusations against me. He can’t control your brother, but we can be faithful and we can do the right thing and not bring pain and suffering to other people.”

Malania just shook her head, “that makes absolutely no sense. If God loved me, he’d have protected me and you’re a hundred times better of a person than I am, so any God that was worth salt would have taken care of you and never let you get hurt.”

I slowly disagreed but I wasn’t really up for a theology debate with a girl who was hurting and bitter with her situation. “I still have faith…” I just replied.

“How? How do you still have faith, what could you possibly have faith in?”

“People like you give me faith…” I told her, before she could ask why, I continued, “when I was alone and sad and feeling lonely, you turned up and sat at those gates in solidarity for what I was going through. You didn’t care if I knew you were there or not, you totally put your heart on the line. You knew your parents wouldn’t like it, you knew that people might make fun of you or think less of you supporting an alleged paedophile, but you had enough love in your heart to think of me when no one else was.”

Malania remained silent.

“People have broken my heart in the past and in the present Malania, but they also have inspired me to continue living and loving. You are one of those people and I want to be that person for you too.”

I noticed her subtly wiping her eyes. “Michael, I feel so alone…” she blurted out.

I got up from the chair I’d sat down in and got close to her again. “You don’t have to feel alone, I’m right here…”

“Thanks…”

“I just want you to try,” I told her, giving her hand a squeeze. Her hands were small and feminine; being swallowed up in my large, hard hands. “Eat a meal with me, okay? Anything you want, I’ll get it and I’ll eat it all with you and together we can heal…”

“What if you go to jail…” the words felt like a blow to the face. I hadn’t allowed my mind to take things that far. Given how much the police hated me and how hard everyone wanted to believe that I was a paedophile, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. I felt sickened by the question.

“I am not going to jail.” I said firmly.

I knew she immediately felt bad for saying both of our fears out loud. I didn’t say anything. I wanted to change the subject.

“So, what do you want to eat?”

She thought for a moment and shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.” I smiled, “what’s your favourite food? Your absolutely favourite thing to eat…”

I liked that she was actually considering it. “I dunno,”

I smiled again, “When we get you out of here, I’ll take you out to dinner, to a really nice place…”

She smiled too. “Maybe I guess I could eat some Japanese food…have you ever eaten legit Japanese food?”

I smiled, “I love Udon and chicken katsu,” I replied, “so you want some Japanese?”

“That would be great,” she answered, “I don’t know how much I can eat, but I will try…”

“Okay what would you like?” I asked kindly. I took a fold of paper from one of the notebooks sitting on the table and grabbed a sharp pencil.

“Tempura Udon or some Teriyaki… maybe some edamame.”

“Okay…” I made a list. “Do you want some soda or something?”

“Yeah, surprise me.”

“Okay, sweet…” I got up, “I’m going to go see Carsen, he’s my new bodyguard, I might go with him to pick up the food-make sure he gets the right thing.”

She smiled at me finally. I felt like we’d turned a little bit of a corner. I made an internal deal with myself; if she showed me her fight, I’d show her mine. I’d get through my inner demons as long as she did.

 

“Don’t forget those books and art supplies… there’s something for you inside that sketch book, have a look at it if you feel like it when I’m gone.” I didn’t let her say anything else, I kissed her forehead and let myself out.

Chapter 21 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

* Trigger warnings for this chapter. Suicide, self-injury, sexual abuse and ED themes. If you feel like you might be bothered by any of these things, please do not read this chapter.
** Thank you to all the new people reading and leaving reviews. I love receiving feed back, so please feel free to leave any critisisms or compliments. I am slowly getting thru posting chapters (I have completed around 44) and am updated them every few days, so if you would like to see certain things or feel like the story might benefit from something, let me know! I'm not easily offended :) 

Chapter 21

This is actually the dumbest game ever,” I remarked with a laugh. Michael was laughing as well.

“You’re only saying that because your Hippo isn’t as Hungry Hungry as mine…” He shot back, counting up all of the little marbles in the belly of the Hippo.

He had definitely managed to cheer me up and make me forget for a little while. He was wonderful like that. He had stolen some board games from the children’s ward knowing that no one would ever say no to him. So far we had played Candy Land, Yahtzee and now this stupid game that required us to slam our hands repeatedly on a couple of plastic Hippos to win the most pellets of food.

“No really, this is ridiculous. We need to play something else.” He looked over at the pile of games. “What about Scrabble? Are you any good at that?”

I scoffed and gave him a funny look, “Um, given that I’m an incredible word smith, I think I can handle myself in a game of Scrabble.”

Michael grinned at me, if I was going to be so honest, it was the first time since we became friends that I felt my heart flutter upon seeing his smile. I didn’t necessary ever want to act on those feelings, but hearing him call me pet names all through the week and intimating a lot of physical contact, it was hard not to feel great affection for him.

“I think you’re underestimating my word smithery.”

“Clearly I’m not, because word smithery isn’t even a word, bozo…” I murmured in a way that made it sound like I was being harsh, but we both knew I was joking.

He laughed, “Okay then we’ll see about this…” I helped him pack up the Hippos and let him get up and get the Scrabble game.

As he was setting up, he glanced up at me, “So… I was talking to your doctor yesterday on the way out of here…” he began. I was surprised and almost annoyed that he felt like it was within his right to talk about me.

It’d been a solid week since I’d seen my parents and I was just fine with it. The more I shut them out, the less painful things felt and the less I thought about my brother.

“Yeah…” I murmured waiting for him to tell me something I didn’t want to hear.

He continued setting up the tiles with my help, “he mentioned that you’re doing really well in the therapy sessions and that he is recommending you for day leave.”

“Okay.” I wondered if that meant I was soon going to be kicked out. I hadn’t quite figured out what I was going to do, I knew I definitely didn’t want to go home.

“And I wondered if tomorrow you might like to leave here for the day and come and hang out in my L.A apartment for a change of scenery.”

I was relieved that he wasn’t telling me I had to see my parents, or that my parents were coming to pick me up.

I looked up at him and smiled. “Sure… what will we do?”

He gave a shrug, “well, leave it to me, I’ll organise a day of rest and relaxation.”

I realised pretty quickly that I didn’t have any of my clothes or belongings with me. “Actually, that might not work. I don’t have anything…” I explained.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I don’t have money, clothes, anything, its all at home.”

“Do you think maybe you could see them, its been just over a week…”

I thought for a moment, some of my anger had dissipated to pity. I felt sad for my Mama, I wasn’t sure why, but I knew my silent treatment would be killing her inside. “Maybe. Would you take me there tomorrow morning?”

He nodded, “Sure, I can do that,” he was trying to act nonchalant but I knew he was happy that I was agreeing to see my family.

I couldn’t blame him, he didn’t know the extent of the damage my family had caused me. Also, the problem was that Michael at the very core was a people pleaser, even if there were times where he felt upset with his own family for not protecting the abuse his father inflicted, he wouldn’t have allowed his mother to feel bad for it for too long.

I picked my seven tiles and waited for Michael to pick his. He was awful at keeping a poker face. He tutted under his breath as he tried to arrange the letters to make something legible. I smiled at my own tiles. I was always good at scrabble.

“You can go first,” he nodded toward me as if he were doing me a favour.

I laughed, “Oh, Michael,” I patronised him, “wont you be sorry.”  

B, S A H E A D

Based, I thought, I arranged my tiles again, ashed, I bit my fingertip softly and saw that Michael was watching me with a little smile. I smiled back as a seven letter word smugly came to me. I began to pull my tiles from the rack and spread them across the board.

A B A S H E D.

“That’s a double letter score on H, making it 16, plus I’ll take my 50 point bonus for shedding all the letters…. On the first go, no less.” I smiled smugly at the man before me who looked genuinely horrified at my immediate lead. I almost felt bad to see him staring at me, mouth agape as if I’d just stolen his wallet.

“Wordsmith,” I reiterated.

“sheeeez…” he breathed his word out and shook his head. I couldn’t help it, I was still smiling.

“You should know,” I began, “I am not a gracious loser. But I’m an even less gracious winner.”

He finally chuckled, “I can already tell.” He paused and rearranged some letters and then smiled back at me. “But… don’t get too used to winning.” I knew he had something up his sleeve because he was so excited to put his tiles down that he dropped a couple and had to fumble for them.

He used my S and immediately I knew he was going for the double word score. I waited for him to place the tiles. S A I L O R L Y. “That, my friend, is 18 points, plus the 50 point bonus so, if you could note down 68 points, that would be won-“

“Wait a second, wait a second, wait a second!” I interrupted his gloating. “How is Sailorly even a word?”

“Are you kidding me? Is the word smith asking me a question about something she should already know? Did I just witness history?!”

He was as ungracious as I was. I was pretty sure I’d awakened a monster within him.

“Its not a word!” I insisted.

“Well… that’s not a very sailorly thing to say, is it? I vote the word stays because it is actually a word. I can go and find a dictionary if you like, little Ms. Wordsmith!”

“No, no… you can have your stupid word. You’ll need the head start.” I replied.

He chuckled as I noted down his score while he collected his new tiles.

Much of our game went from boasting to arguing over the legitimacy of words, even when we knew it was actually a word. It was fun and challenging. I knew I was good at the game, but he was equally good too. Everything got interrupted when the door opened and my father stepped foot inside.

He was startled to see Michael and I, both sitting cross-legged on each end of my bed, in the middle of violent laughter over the his latest play, B U T T H O L E, using my B.

I hadn’t been expecting it, he was usually so proper around me, but I knew he couldn’t help himself. It had cracked me up unexpectedly. “Use it in a sentence so I know that it’s truly a word!” I exclaimed between bursts of laughter.

Michael doubled over, laughing hard for a few moments until he contained himself. “My pet chimp has a large butthole,” I was trying hard not to laugh but it came out bursting out in a snort before we both lost it again.

I knew it was incredibly juvenile, but in all honesty, I think it was laughter that we both sorely needed. It was a good release.

Halting that laughter though was my Dad’s confusion. He tried to make sense of Michael Jackson visiting with his daughter, I could see it on his face. I could see where he seemed to go from confused, to angry to suddenly relaxing.

“I asked for no visitors,” I told him, not looking back at him after my initial glance. Michael looked immediately uncomfortable.

“I’ll give you some time,” he said, going to get up. I grabbed his wrist tightly and watched him hiss in pain, knowing that he’d obviously been cutting. We met eyes for a moment and he also knew he’d given himself away. I’d deal with that later.

“Stay,” I told him. He seemed reluctant, but I pleaded with him silently by looking in to his eyes.

“Malania-chan,” my Dad began, “we are so worried for you, please don’t do this to us.”

I glanced up at him again. He looked like he was ready to cry. He looked like he hadn’t slept in awhile which satisfied me a little. He would know a tiny bit of how it felt like to be me.

“Where’s Mama? She better not be here.”

“She’s at home with your sister. Anica said she would like to see you, also.” He spoke slowly as if he was afraid that I would launch in to a rage.

“Why, did you both tell her?”

He shook his head and looked down at his feet. He glanced at Michael again, I knew he was wondering if Michael knew.

“Why, are you concerned that she might hate you both for protecting Samuel as well?” I challenged him.

I wanted him to think I’d told Michael. I knew he would feel shame and some of that would be only partly equal to the shame I’d been feeling for years.

“No, Malania-chan, please stop. I am here because I love you. I have come every single day because I love you. Every day I am told, ‘no, Mr. Nakamura Malania will not take visitors’, and that is very painful. I just want to see you well and happy again.”

“Malania,” Michael interrupted, “I’m going to be outside the door, you both should talk,” he gave my Dad a weak smile.

I didn’t bother begging Michael to stay. I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.

My Dad thanked him in a barely audible voice. He sat on the chair by my bed and faced me, I knew he was not able to look at me properly for all the hurt and embarrassment he felt over what his son had committed.

“I don’t know what to say to you that can tell you how sorry I am.”

“Discounting that you’re sorry doesn’t make up for what happened to me. I know you’ve always tried Papa,” I told him, “I know you try to keep Mama happy and I know that she thinks that she can fix Samuel and so you’ve tried to support her, but he should have gone to prison for what he did to Luke. If he went to prison for that, he wouldn’t have been around to hurt me.”

“I have thought of that a thousand times and I feel sick about it. This is why you tried to harm yourself… This is why you ended up here…”

I lifted my sleeves all the way to my elbows so that he could see other knicks and surface wounds, “it never stopped, Daddy.” I told him, my eyes filling with tears, “I never stopped hurting, I just got better at it.”

He couldn’t bear to look at my skin, “why do you think it was easier to run around the world than to be home? When I got out of hospital, Samuel just began all over again and when I got home more recently, I’d had enough…. But not Mama, she didn’t want me to press charges, she didn’t want the violence order…”

“Malania-chan, I am so, so, sorry from the bottom of my heart, please forgive me.”

“Why didn’t Mama care enough about me? Why did she let him do this to me? You wouldn’t have let her do this if you were around more…”

“Your Mama is torn between her children… I don’t have the answers for you and I don’t want to defend her actions, but I don’t want you to think she doesn’t love you.”

“As a result, Anica hates me, Kaito stays as far away from all of us as possible and I’ve just had enough… When I leave here, I’m not coming home.”

He winced as though my words hurt, but I knew he didn’t want to argue. “I understand, I will help you, whatever you need…”

“I need you to bring me some clothes here, Michael asked if I was allowed to go on an outpatient visit, so he’s taking me somewhere tomorrow for the day.”

I knew he wanted to protest to that, but he didn’t. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know, he just wants to cheer me up,” I shrugged. I didn’t want to let on to anybody that Michael had an apartment close to L.A that nobody knew about.

“I was glad to see you laughing when I arrived. It was wonderful to hear it. I am glad you have a friend.” I wasn’t an idiot, I knew it concerned him that I was friends with a high-profiled celebrity, but it wasn’t the right moment to grill me about it.

“Me too. In fact, I think I would like to get back to my game now…” I told him almost bluntly. I was done, it was all I could deal with for that day.

“I will come back and see you,” he told me. I just nodded. He lingered for a moment. He was about to leave but I called him back.

“Papa, are you not even going to give me a hug?” I asked him. He smiled, seeming to relax and lose the tension in his face. He engulfed me in an embrace that almost winded me. It said all the things he was feeling. I felt his lips press against my temple.

“I love you so much my sweet, sweet little girl. I will come back with some things for you.”

“Thanks…I love you too. Please don’t come back with Mama, but if Anica is going to come I will see her.”

He smiled again at me and waved before letting himself out.

**

“How’d it go?” Michael asked when he came back in to the room. He looked afraid to ask.

“About as good as it could go,” I shrugged, glancing back down at our tiles.

Michael stood before me in a blue plaid shirt and a pair of black pants. His hair was tied back and he always smelled so good. Hanging out with him was certainly good for distressing and I liked to think that I helped him too.

“He didn’t stay long…” he remarked as he hovered around, trying probably to gauge my mood.

“Yeah, I really can only stomach so much… but it’s not so much him that I’m mad at, its my Mama.” I shook my head, “My Dad tried, but he wants to keep a happy marriage… I don’t blame him, he was out trying to help our family and my Mama was supposed to be at home taking care of us; protecting us.”

Michael resumed his position on the end of my bed. “Well, he said he would come and bring me some clothes later so we won’t have to go to my house which will be good.”

“Okay…”

“So….” I nodded toward the Scrabble board. “How’s that butthole going?”

Michael burst out laughing again. I giggled too. “You are disgusting,” I riled him up, “I can’t believe you put that down. In fact, I think its two words, but I don’t even care its so great.”

We kept laughing. Eventually it subsided and we continued on with our game; this time trying to outdo each other with stupid, juvenile words. I managed to put down “poopy” and Michael creatively managed the word wiener.

It became more of a silly, friendly game until our tiles began to run low and we became more focused on finishing it off.

“Hey,” I began, thoughtfully, interrupting his shuffling of tiles.

“Hi!” he waved being silly.

I cocked my head to the side smirked at his silliness. “Michael, why are you cutting still? You promised me you wouldn’t.”

He seemed surprised. “Well, you lied to me too,” he shot back, not in a nasty way, just in a normal even tone. “You told me you weren’t cutting anymore, but you’re not on the psych hold because you didn’t feel hungry or thirsty.”

He had a point. He stared me out until I looked away first shamefully.

“We need to stop…” I murmured quietly, “we’re both functioning adults, Michael, this is bullshit… surely we can find better ways…it upsets me when I know you’ve cut.”

“It upsets me when I know you have.”

“Then let’s stop. Its hard and its like an addiction, I know… but we need each other.”

He nodded, looking down at his tiles. He placed a few letters down; my eyes followed his tiles. Using the existing W from the word Weiner, he made the word W E E. We both began to laugh.

I think our laughter sealed the deal.

Chapter 22 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

* Trigger warnings for this chapter. Suicide, self-injury, sexual abuse and ED themes. If you feel like you might be bothered by any of these things, please do not read this chapter.
** Thank you to all the new people reading and leaving reviews. I love receiving feed back, so please feel free to leave any critisisms or compliments. I am slowly getting thru posting chapters (I have completed around 44) and am updated them every few days, so if you would like to see certain things or feel like the story might benefit from something, let me know! I'm not easily offended :) 

Chapter 22

I thought of how she had been gazing at the drawing that I’d done for her when I’d come to collect her that morning. It made me smile to know just how much she cherished it. She had it open on the hospital table. She had cried when she noticed it 6 days after I actually drew it. That was how long it took her to actually open a sketchbook.

She was finally starting to feel human again and so was I, strangely.

She had admitted to her psychologist that she was cutting and that her cutting led her to suicidal fantasies and I really felt like her admitting that to her therapist was a good step for both of us.

I, on the other hand, felt that by admitting to her, someone was keeping me accountable. Perhaps it wasn’t right to put that on her shoulders, but talking together about our urges helped me curb them and in turn, kept me from taking to a bottle of pills all the time.

She had been allowed out on several day releases with me. We hung out mostly, talked, or really just got on with our own activities but within the close company of one another.

She had been given an overnight pass, so I invited her to stay at my apartment with me. I had to sign a waiver and release forms and knew that even though she was stable for the most part, I couldn’t trust her entirely. I gathered up all of the sharp things, even all the knives, everything from the bathroom that she could use to cut and I made my security guard put them in a safe place. I saw it also as helping me.

I had been writing some songs and playing a little bit of the piano while Malania lay a mahogany, leather couch catching the sunlight from the window and reading a book that I’d loaned her.

I knew she just needed a safe haven, a place away from the drs and nurses and meds and stark walls and I hoped to provide that for her.

I was done, I was starting to get frustrated with writers block so I put my pen down. I could see that Malania was just on the cusp of falling asleep. She had been quiet all day, a little unlike her. As we got to know each other better, I came to realise she wasn’t quiet and stoic, she had always just been a little bit shy with me.

She was funny and blunt and a very, very loyal friend. I didn’t worry about trust, I didn’t really feel I had an issue there. She basically knew the kind of information that could put the nail in my coffin, but she kept everything to herself.

“Hey, why don’t you go lay in bed?” I prompted her. She had her own guestroom across the hall from mine.

“I’m sick of beds…” she murmured, yawning, “I like the sun here… and I like hearing you singing.”

I felt my cheeks flush. I didn’t even realise I had been singing. “Most people pay big bucks for this show…” I teased her with a wink.

Her lips turned up in to a smile back at me. “Don’t quit your day jo- oh wait… this is awkward…”

We both chuckled knowing that she was just jibing me.

“Would you like to do something? We can go for a drive or watch something on the television.”

“Its okay, Michael, you can just go ahead with your day, I’m fine…” she replied, but I knew she wasn’t fine. Something was bothering her.

“Are you sure?” I prodded her, getting up and stretching, heading over to the opposite side of the room where she was on the couch. “If something’s up, you can tell me…”

She sat up, giving me some room to sit too. She was dressed casually and looking cute as she always did. Just a pair of jeans and a Ramones tshirt, which I thought was a bit funny since she didn’t even look like the type of girl who even knew who the Ramones were.

I sat beside her and yawned. “My sister finally came to see me last night,” she admitted.

Ah, everything made a bit of sense. Her father had warned her that her sister might come, Malania had wanted to see her niece, but she doubted her sister would bring her.

“Oh wow,” I remarked, “was it okay?”

“I don’t know…” she shrugged. “I love my sister and we were really close before it all….” she was always referring to an it, and I’d assumed it was what happened with her boyfriend or friend, but as time went on, I started to think there was more to it. “But since that time I got out of hospital, everything changed and she treated me like the scourge of the earth and I know why, I understand why, but again – I feel short changed that yet another person didn’t try to protect me.”

I didn’t know how to say it without hurting her, but it certainly wasn’t her sister’s responsibility to save her, especially if she was still a kid herself. “Was it at least civil?” I asked gently.

She nodded. “I told her everything… and she cried and basically wouldn’t stop for the whole time she was there,” she looked a little deflated, “I feel like I’m tearing my family apart, Michael, my Dad is really angry at my Mom, my Mom is angry with him…my sister understands a bit more and while it was good for us, she is angry that neither of my parents told her…”

“Things are messy,” I agreed, “but once you get better and once your brother goes to jail for real, it will be okay and everyone will calm down. I know you feel really torn yourself especially with your Mom, but I promise that will pass too. Eventually she’ll see that the right thing is being done for everyone.”

Malania nodded but I could tell it all was still bothering her. “Look at this…” she rolled up her tshirt sleeve just a tiny bit and showed me the inside of her arm, “I cut myself last night… its just small, but… I’m admitting it to you cos I don’t want to do this again.”

I drew in a deep breath. I felt disappointment but I never let it show. If she couldn’t uphold her end of the bargain how could I uphold mine? Good example, good example, good example, I chanted to myself silently, I had to be the role model here. “Oh, Malania…” I murmured, “why didn’t you just call me? I would have talked you through it…”

“I knew you’d talk me out of it…” she mumbled, avoiding my eyes. I took her arm and examined it. It could have easily been mistaken for an everyday bump or cut, it didn’t look deep or particularly severe.

“That’s the point…” I gave her a weak smile, “come on, we have a deal. Promise me you’ll try harder?”

“I promise.”

“And promise me you’ll tell your therapist that this happened?” I added, realising that I had no real way of policing that one.

She nodded. “You know what…” she began, “I think I will take that nap…”

She did this, I’d come to find out, when things got a bit too intense for her, she bowed out of the conversation or the situation. The only time she had ever been completely vulnerable to me was the first day I’d come to visit her in the hospital.

“Okay, do you want me to wake you up later?”

“Sure, if you want…” she gave me a brief smile and passed me on her way to the guestroom.

**

Malania left her door ajar and I could see that she was genuinely sleeping. I thought perhaps she wanted to be alone. She had been asleep for hours though and it was getting on dark outside.

I went through the house looking for something that might cheer her up. Obviously she was feeling the weight of guilt for a lot of reasons. Everyone’s emotions were all on her shoulders.

Maybe it was awful of me, but focusing on someone else’s problems made mine seem less important. I wondered if I should wake her up as I wandered back to the kitchen.

I was eating a bit better and drinking even better than that. I decided to give Malania another half an hour while I went to get myself a bottle of mineral water. I stopped short, looking at the reminder on the refridgerator.

I had to be at the courthouse in five days time for the official arraignment. I knew I had to touch base with my family. As much as my Dad had to answer for, he was definitely someone I needed to have by my side in the tough times and my mother, I felt torn between upsetting her with it all, but needing her by my side.  

I wanted Malania to be there too, but I knew I could never ask her. She didn’t need to be there with me, she had enough on her plate. If the whole thing disturbed her state of mind I would have felt entirely responsible.

I poured myself a drink and made a mental note to ask Carsen to hire some more trustworthy security and to help me organise to get a new suit and to get my car detailed and cleaned. I needed the judge to like me, I needed everyone to be on my side to realise I didn’t do those things…

I shook my head free of the dark place it began to travel to. I drew in a deep breath and counted to three until the urge subsided. Blocking it all out seemed to work better for me.

I didn’t know what to do about dinner, I figured I’d just ask Carsen to get us something.

When I was beginning to think about waking Malania up, I heard the shuffling of footsteps along the floorboards from the hallway to the dining area where I was sitting at the breakfast bar.

I looked up to see her advancing toward me. She had a long black cardigan over the top of her t-shirt and held it tightly closed as if she was cold. I felt a flicker of emotion within me that I was a little surprised by. There was a little part of me that half-expected her to make her way over to me, in my waiting embrace.

The kind of thing Diane would do of a morning. I had to shake the feeling of affection that momentarily consumed me. I didn’t want to start confusing emotions.

“Hey sweetheart, how was your nap?”

She gave me a smile, “It was okay, I think I slept for far too long though…”

“I was about to come and wake you up.” She made her way in to the kitchen on the other side of the breakfast bar and leaned over it.

“Thanks for having me here…” she began thoughtfully, “I really appreciate it. I hope I’m not too high maintenance.”

I chuckled, “High maintenance? You? No, its nice to have you here to hang out. You’re the least maintenance girl I’ve come across in a long time, truthfully. I like that I don’t have to play entertainer…”

She smiled at me, I knew she liked to hear that.

“Hey…” I began brightening up, “I have an idea. Do you want to do something fun tonight?”

“Like what?” she asked.

“We can leave the house…” I told her bravely. I didn’t really like going out on public, especially not with everything going on, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to expose her to it a second time, but… after everything that transpired after she’d been recognised in the press by her family, I figured that it couldn’t get any worse for either of us.

“Okay? Aren’t you worried about being seen?”

“I’m brave if you are,” I replied, “but if you are worried, then I totally understand, especially after…”

She seemed to turn a bit serious, thinking about what had happened, “its okay, you can say it, after my brother had the press phone him up, caught a glimpse of me on TV and went absolutely ape shit on me.”

“Well, that won’t happen this time, I won’t let it.” I said and I meant it. I was keeping a close eye on what was happening with her brother. Since Malania had given her statement to the police, her brother had been charged and like me, awaiting an arraignment.

“Don’t promise me things that you can’t keep, but I’ll brav-“

“Stop,” I commanded her, I held up my hand, “don’t tell me to not make promises to you, I do promise you that I’m going to protect you. I’ve failed in many ways in my life, Malania, but I mean it, I’m not going to let your brother cause anything bad in your life again.”

“Too late…” she mumbled, averting her eyes.

I sighed. I didn’t know how to counter that retort, so I said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, examining her hands. She gave me a smile, “anyway, I’m brave, I’d like to hang out, I don’t care where.”

“Let’s go to dinner, I told you I’d take you somewhere nice when you get out of hospital, so… lets do it, lets go eat like grown ups instead of relying on my suits to go to the drive thru.”

I saw that her interest immediately pique. “Where will we go?”

“I don’t know,” I smiled, “I don’t go out a lot, let me make a few phone calls…”

“Okay great,” she flashed me a smile back, “but we can’t go someplace where I can’t get away with jeans and chucks and some kind of shirt…”

I laughed and gave her the once over, “you look great as you are,” I complimented her but continued on because I didn’t want to create any awkwardness. “Besides, I’m famous, we can get away with wearing paper bags if we wanted.”

She laughed.

“Okay, so… just make yourself at home as usual and I’ll go speak to Carsen and find out where we can get a table,” I told her. She agreed and went to the living room where she had left her book earlier.

I went in to my bedroom and picked up the phone. I dialled the only person that I knew loved eating out in hot spots. “Hi Liz,” I smiled, hearing her voice on the other end of the phone.

“Michael hello!” she greeted me, “I was just thinking of you. I didn’t know the number at your place there in L.A. Are you okay?”

I chuckled at her excitement to speak with me. It made me feel good. “I’m good Liz, actually, really good.”

“You sound bright and cheerful. I should come and hang out so that you’re not on your own,” she suggested.

I winced, “Actually, I’m okay, I have company with me. Thanks, though. That’s why I was calling actually-“

“Oh company, Michael I’m glad you’re not shutting yourself away from everyone, that’s so encouraging to hear. Who are you spending time with?” she asked carefully, not trying to be nosey but I was sure she suspected that I was lying.

“A friend of mine, a uh… a fan of mine that I became friends with while I was on tour.”

“A fan? Michael!” she scolded me good-naturedly, “Does this mean you’re letting go of Diane?”

I managed to laugh. I had admitted to Elizabeth at some stage that Diane was still very much a part of my heart and that I still held hope for us after my name was clear and she realised her fears about me were all wrong. Since then though, over the weeks that passed, I realised that a friendship or relationship could never recover from those kind of allegations and distrust.

“Elizabeth, its not like that… This girl is my friend. We are both going through hard times and I trust her…” I assured my greatest and most loyal friend on through the phone.

“I’m just glad that you have company. Trusting is hard especially right now, but really… you have nothing in your life to be ashamed of, so trust away, Michael, one day you won’t regret it.”

I hoped she was right. “Thanks Liz… I’m sorry to say this, but… the reason that I was calling was because my friend Malania and I decided to brave it out and we want to go eat somewhere together. I need a suggestion…”

Her laughter filled the phone that made me smile. I knew she was happy to hear that I was eating, it was one of the questions she kept asking me. “What does she eat? And are you looking for a date-type place?”

“Mmmm…. Well, I really am looking to cheer her up, but we’re just friends and we’re both in no position to further that, if that’s what you’re asking,” I replied, “She loves Japanese food.”

“OK my sweetheart, try out a place called Koi. It’s a beautiful restaurant in L.A. They provide private dining, but you’ll have to call and book.”

“Thanks Liz. So… I know I have to go back outside and face the public sometime and I know I’m going to have enough anxiety at the arraignment to have to worry about it then…”

“Just don’t exploit this girl, Michael, don’t use her.”

I was slightly offended, “Huh? What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she began bravely as though she expected me to get mad, “this girl is your friend, but you need to make sure that she understands that that’s all it is if it is all it is,” she explained, “and I know you want to look favourable to everyone, but don’t use her as a new girlfriend type stunt to cement your point in public. She doesn’t need that.”

I breathed in, totally understanding. Maybe it was a bad idea to go out and show her off. Maybe I needed us to arrive in separate cars. I didn’t want to be irresponsible with her. “What if… I’m not sure what the intention is?”

Really?” Liz asked, her voice full of intrigue. “Tell me more…”

I smiled. “There’s nothing to tell… not for now, maybe not ever, but… you and I are friends and people have asked if we are dating, why is it so hard to believe I have female friends?”

“Its not… just be careful, Michael.”

“I will… do you think it’s a bad idea then? To take her out? I don’t want to do anything stupid.”

“No, you’re an innocent man, you deserve to go and enjoy dinner with a friend just like any other person in the world, I’m just saying make sure that you are doing it for the right reasons.”

“The reason is to take my friend out and make her smile when she is going through a hard time,” I clarified it.

“Well then, go and enjoy Koi. I know you both will. Call me tomorrow and we’ll talk about all this.”

I managed a smile. “Okay Liz, thank you.”

She said goodbye.

**

“Here, how’s this?” I asked, handing Malania a red jacket. She went to take it, but I held it out chivalrously so she could slide her arms in to it. I didn’t have the kind of clothes at this apartment that I had at Neverland, but my wardrobe was decked out in a bunch of different jackets.

She looked good in red. It was a slightly military-style jacket. I sensed she didn’t much care for it. “Or this… you can wear this one…” I held out a black and grey letterman jacket with a big J upon the breast.

“Oh great, I love this one,” she replied as she shed the other jacket and handed it back to me. She slid the letterman jacket on. I agreed, it looked better on her.

“Nice,” I complimented her giving her a once-over, “it’s a very cool grunge look you’ve got happening…”

She flashed me a look that made me realise she wasn’t sure if I was condemning her fashion or complimenting it.

“I meant to say, you look good,” I corrected myself, feeling my cheeks flush slightly.

“Thanks… what are you going to wear?” she asked curiously as she looked around, taking in her surroundings. It felt a little odd to have another woman in my bedroom that wasn’t Diane, even almost as if I was cheating. I was a very loyal partner, I rarely liked to be around other women when I had a significant other – well, a significant Diane… but I had to keep reminding myself that even when I was exonerated, Diane would have no place in my life.

“I’ll wear jeans too… I don’t have a Ramone’s shirt,” I teased her, “but I could just wear a button down…”

“The one you wore to the hospital one, the blue plaid one, that looked really nice on you,” she told me. I was surprised that she had taken detail of what I’d been wearing.

“Okay, thanks,” I replied nonchalantly.

We left the house around 7pm. I was nervous and I knew that Malania sensed it. “You know,” she whispered, sitting next to me in the backseat, “we don’t have to go out, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“No, I promised you that I’d take you out… no one knows we are coming, so I think the only drama might be coming out… the paparazzi will probably be there,” I knew I was reasoning out loud more for myself.

“Michael, you sound scared…” she murmured, “are you sure?”

“Well... I can’t stay in doors forever, can I?” I asked, “I need to do this. I’m just afraid of someone being mean to me… I know that sounds dumb, I guess that would mean then that people are believing the lies against me.”

“If someone is mean to you, I’ll kick them in their boy parts… and if it’s a girl I could totally take her on…”

I felt a relieving burst of laughter exiting my mouth. She was so sweet, her loyalty made me feel a lot more confident. “Honestly, maybe this is a bit selfish, but having you with me does help me…” I admitted, “I know if you can get about your day being brave, then I can too.”

She held out her hand to me. I took it and we exchanged a smile. “We will be okay, Michael, I promise. I’m sure the worst thing someone’s said to you is probably something you’ve already thought.”

She had a point.

We arrived at the front of the restaurant a few moments later. “Okay, lets do this, Malania.” Carsen got out of the car and opened the door for me. I got out first and knew immediately there were paparazzi. It wasn’t unusual though, for them to be waiting upon the strip of highend restaurants for celebrity sightings.

I tried to keep my shaking under control. I tried to be patient as Malania got out of the car. I felt her hand slip in to mine as the flashbulbs began to burst in our faces and the questions flew at us.

Carsen, God bless his soul kept them a safe distance away, but it didn’t stop the cameras going off. “Mr Jackson! Is this the first time you’ve been in public since the allegations against you?” someone called out.

I hated the paparazzi. They were weird, middle-aged men who had wives and children at home and were pretending to be legit reporters, trying to ask the hard-hitting questions. It was such a sleazy industry.

They began to push the boundaries with Carsen, closest to Malania. I put an arm around her protectively, drawing her in toward me. “Michael! Is this your girl?”

“Michael, are you guilty?”

“Get a life…” Malania muttered under her breath. I knew they didn’t hear her and I was glad. I managed to just smile through their stupid questions. I was happy I’d decided to wear sunglasses. I saw a photographer to my left that tripped over backwards, his camera landing right on his face. He cursed out loud. I couldn’t hold it in, I burst out laughing and I heard Malania crack up as well.

I knew it was a bit mean, but he had just asked me if I was guilty.

We finally got through the doors and they were not allowed inside. The Maitre d’ expected us and took as swiftly through the restaurant and in to a more private area of the restaurant. I felt a couple of sets of eyes upon us as we weaved through the tables, past a couple of booths and in to our dimly lit, atmospheric private table.

I pulled out a chair for Malania before sitting down. “Would it be okay if I read you both the specials, Mr. Jackson?” he asked, glancing at her and then back at me.

“The lady’s name is Ms. Nakamura,” I told him politely, hating that he was ignoring her. He smiled and nodded at her as if acknowledging what I was getting at.

“Konbanwa , ma’am!” he greeted her.

“Hello.” Malania replied with a laugh, we both knew that he assumed she spoke Japanese due to her last name. She seemed excited and happy with a spark inside her that I hadn’t seen since Mexico.

“Onomimono wa dounasaimasuka?” he asked her.

She looked up at him and grinned, she was obviously surprised by his fluent Japanese. Surprising me, she answered him.

“Oh, Kekkou desu,” she shook her head.

“How are you on this fine evening?” he asked her, flashing her a charming smile.  

“Well, thanks, and yourself?” I couldn’t be certain, but the second he paid her some attention, I was pretty sure he was brazenly flirting.

“Watashiwa genki desu, arigato,” he paused, “Nihongo wo hanashimasu?”

She started to laugh again and I didn’t really like the way they were sharing private conversation. I felt almost like they were laughing at me, “hai, hai, chotto,”

Malania turned to me, perhaps she noticed I was looking confused and surprised by her sudden fluent language. “That’s about as elaborate as it gets,” she added as if that explained everything.

The young and probably good-looking Japanese man placed menus before us and asked once more to read the specials.

“No thanks, we’ll be fine.” I replied, waiting for him to buzz off.

“Sorry,” Malania apologised when he left, “that was a bit rude…”

“No, no, that’s fine.” I replied, but we both know I was a little funny. Perhaps jealous? I wasn’t sure, I just knew I didn’t like him openly ignoring me and trying to chat her up in Japanese.

“He asked me if he could get me a drink in Japanese, I said no thanks-“

“So he was hitting on you!”

She seemed baffled, “how did you get that?” she wanted to know, “he was just testing my Japanese, we Asians judge other halvsies to see how white we really are.”

I smiled but I knew he had been hitting on her. “If he wasn’t hitting on you, why didn’t he ask me if I wanted a drink?”

She knew I had a point. She finally just laughed, “I’m sorry.”

I was able to laugh at her sweet oblivion to his forwardness. “What else did he want? Did he ask you what time you were able to get away from me?”

She cocked her head to the side and laughed again. “Actually, it was a bit odd. He told me he was fine too and then he asked if I spoke Japanese… as though I’d been speaking to him in Spanish for the past few minutes.”

“I have to say,” I told her, “I was slightly surprised, I didn’t know you spoke Japanese. I was pretty convinced you told me you only knew the swear words.”

“Seriously?” she asked, “Well, actually, yes I know the swear words, but what type of crazy Asian dad would mine be if he didn’t spend an arm and a leg putting me through a year of after school Japanese lessons.”

I laughed. “So how fluent are you?”

“I’ve been to Japan about 12 times, I can get by. My sister and I used to practice like precious little nerds.”

“I have been to Japan about 12 times too, but I still can’t speak it. Its so confusing, all the words sound similar!” I complained.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you the important things…” she promised. I just smiled.

She picked up her menu. “Thanks for bringing me here, you’ve been really sweet these past few weeks.”

“Well… you were really good to me too when I needed it, even that last time you came to Neverland when I was being a complete jerk,” I had been an ass. I had pushed her to talk about things that were personal and private to her. It was also the night before her brother attacked her. It was all still quite raw in my mind.

“That’s what friends are for,” she shrugged.

I opened my menu too. My tummy growled when I saw the pictures of the food. It all looked so amazing. I was happy that my appetite was coming back.

Chapter 23 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

* Trigger warnings for this chapter. Suicide, self-injury, sexual abuse and ED themes. If you feel like you might be bothered by any of these things, please do not read this chapter.
** Thank you to all the new people reading and leaving reviews. I love receiving feed back, so please feel free to leave any critisisms or compliments. I am slowly getting thru posting chapters (I have completed around 44) and am updated them every few days, so if you would like to see certain things or feel like the story might benefit from something, let me know! I'm not easily offended :) 

Chapter 23

Dinner was so much fun. I loved hearing all of Michael’s stories. It was nice to be waited on, and also to take our problems out of the equation and just have a light-hearted conversation.

“So, she was really like that?” I asked in a little bit of shock. “I just felt like she’d be fun and cool.”

“She was nice and all, but just so forward! I mean, I told her I had somebody and she didn’t care…” he was telling me a story about a female singer who had shamelessly hit on him despite knowing he was spoken for.

“Crazy…” I shook my head with disbelief, “so, besides Elizabeth Taylor, do you have anyone that you’re good friends with from the entertainment industry?” I asked as I played with my noodles with the chopsticks.

Michael finished chewing his swordfish and concentrated on a little pile of sticky rice on his plate and shrugged. “Not really… I know people, but, I guess I don’t have friendships like on the same level as Liz.”

“If I can be honest, I have been really surprised by the lack of people around, I figured that given how loved you are, that people would be flocking to your side,” I admitted. He glanced up at me and smiled weakly. I knew it hurt him that no one really had publicly said anything besides Liz.

“Oh well…at least I have Liz …and you.”

We were interrupted by the flirty waiter again. He kept giving me his giant shit-eating grin each time he came back to speak with us. He was kinda cute but Michael made him pale by comparison.

Perhaps after Michael drew my attention to his agenda, I was more aware of it, but he barely looked at him which made me crazy. I wondered how anyone could ignore him. His presence alone was enigmatic at the best of times.

“Daijobu?” he asked me. It was an informal way of asking if everything was fine. It frustrated me somewhat because in any Japanese restaurant I had ever been to, the waiters spoke incredibly formally.

“Yes, thank you, everything is fine right now,” I responded, barely looking up. I didn’t want to make my company feel bad again and I was aware of how rude it was to speak another language in front of someone who wasn’t familiar with it. “Also, English is fine.”

He smiled tightly, realising that I wasn’t feeling his Japanese talk. “As you wish,” he smiled, taking away an empty bowl and giving us a slight bow.

When he disappeared Michael laughed. “Well, that was blunt of you.”

“It’s a bit rude, don’t you think? He knows you obviously don’t speak Japanese.” Michael agreed with me, but didn’t really say anything about him.

“So, you never got around to telling me how it actually went with your sister.”

My stomach churned a little bit when I thought about how much Anica had cried. I thought about how when the words dropped from my mouth they’d rippled right through to her heart. And then I felt guilty despite how many times she kept telling me how sorry she was.

I explained to Michael the bare minimum. She had arrived less defensive than I’d expected. She apologised for not bringing her husband, Doug and for leaving Danijela at home.

It was a bit awkward. We rarely spent any time on our own together, if we did it was only a few minutes while our parents left us alone in a room. “Are you okay?” she asked me, “do you need anything?”

I shook my head. “Thanks for coming. I appreciate it.”

Her eyes lingered over the drawing Michael had done for me with the beautiful poem attached. My eyes followed hers. I was certain I saw a slight roll of them. I didn’t think she connected that he had drawn it. She probably thought it was me.

“Stil doing your art then,” she remarked, “that’s a pretty cool drawing.” I knew she was grasping at things to say. She picked up the book and examined it closer, it took away the awkwardness slightly that she was busy.

“Actually, I didn’t draw that…” I told her, “Michael drew it for me.”

She put it down and looked at me, her mouth fell open. She glanced back at it, “as in Michael Ja-“

“Yes… he was here earlier, he’s actually been here every day.”

I knew she was unsure if I was serious or not. “Papa said you had company each day… I told Mama she should be with you, but… he said you were okay.”

“I don’t need to see Mama right now,” I replied, “And I know you won’t understand why and I know you think I’m being dramatic or whatever, but I can’t-“

“Malania, I don’t get it…” Anica sat down on the edge of the bed beside me where Michael had been all day, “I’ve tried to understand… I know what Sam did to Luke was awful and I know you felt guilty, but Mama and Papa, they aren’t to blame…”

I was so sick of everyone defending Sam or not grasping the full extent of my pain. “Remember when you came to visit me after I tried to kill myself?” I asked her, daring to look in to her beautiful, striking blue eyes. I was always jealous of her eyes. She looked so much like our mother.

She gave a laugh despite the tears that were filling her eyes. I knew it was the scariest and most traumatic thing that had ever happened to her, “how could I forget?”

“I wanted to tell you and you were so, so mad at me. You yelled and screamed at me until Daddy dragged you out. And I felt so awful that you were so angry and I wanted to explain and tell you I was sorry, but you never softened, Anica, you never gave me the chance…”

“I was eighteen,” she emphasised to me, pushing her blond locks out of the way. She was well-groomed, well-dressed and always made me feel incredibly small and insignificant in comparison, “I found my sister in our shared bathroom. I will never ever erase that from my mind, Malania, that image still horrifies me, it still tears through me. I still have nightmares.”

She let the tears streak down her cheeks. I knew she was hurt too. I knew I’d caused that. I looked up at the ceiling and tried to draw the courage to tell her.

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t kind to you, but I’ve never understood… Luke didn’t blame you, he blamed Sam…”

“Sam got off scott free,” I mumbled, “and then he blamed me.”

“Yeah, well, Sam had his own set of problems…he still does, obviously,” she replied.

I blew out air and sucked in another, “God please give me the strength…” I whispered. Just as Anica was about to say something, I cut her off with my jagged, pointy words.

“After Mama and Daddy managed to get Sam out of trouble, he blamed me, he came in to my room on a bunch of occasions over the span of around a month and blamed me. He blamed me over and over and over.”

My eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t hold it in. I was trying to keep my composure. I hated saying it out loud, saying it made it real. “Malania what are you saying?” she asked, grabbing my shoulders.

I couldn’t look at her. The shame was too much. “Don’t make me say it…” I pleaded with her.

“Samuel raped you?” she asked me point-blank, “is that what you’re saying? He raped you when you were what, like 15?”

I was so scared she wouldn’t believe me. I began to sob. I was shaking so hard from admitting it. It felt so different to the furious way in which I had blurted it out to my parents. I felt I owed my sister a very real and honest explanation. Instead of grilling me, she simply pulled me toward her and let me cry.

“All Mama ever cared about was making sure Samuel was okay.”

Anica hugged me tightly and apologised to me. When finally I loosened my embrace I could see that she was crying as well.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen…I’m so sorry. Is this why you tried to take your life?”

“It’s the only way I could make it stop…” I admitted, “And it did stop…but when he found out that I was seeing Michael, he went crazy, the same way he did with Luke.”

“Lanz, I’m so, so, sorry.” I knew my sister didn’t know what else to say. But it was music to my ears, hearing a long-lost shortening of my name that I was used to hearing her use as teen. The relief felt amazing.

We talked for awhile but I knew it was all hard for her to process. Once she had finally calmed down, she asked for some more details. Despite being extremely painful to rehash, I was felt better knowing someone was on my side.

“When you get out of here, you are coming to stay with Douglas and I, okay? You don’t need to go back to Mama and Papa’s place. I’ll make sure you are safe.”

I didn’t doubt her, but I also didn’t want to underestimate my crazy brother.

She was livid with Mama. I told her how she had responded. I felt bad, I knew Anica and my mother often clashed. My sister was an outgoing, independent woman who was kept busy by her daughter and her full time job. She had a live-in Nanny and an active social life and managed to keep everything well-balanced. My mother, on the other hand, was a passive, socially inept woman who had friends at church but was often concerned about the quality of her English. Her English was perfect, her accent was strong, but you couldn’t ever convince her otherwise.

I knew Anica didn’t respect my Mama’s choice to be a housewife, to make her children her entire life, but I didn’t mind. I felt like they were both just very different people despite being similar in looks.

“Don’t get angry with Mama… please, let me take care of that when I’m ready.”

“Okay,” she agreed, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to help herself.

After some silence and processing, glancing back at my drawing, Anica gave a heavy sigh. “Malania, here’s what we’re going to do, we’re going to get you a good lawyer, we are going to make sure that Samuel goes away for this.”

I shook my head, “I can’t think of it, I can’t think of making a statement, please, please don’t push me in to that…”

“Lanz, over the years at school, I heard rumours that Samuel used to boast about doing things with girls and it crossed the line. There was one girl who told me there was a rumour that Samuel rufied someone at a party… and I waved it away, but I always wondered…and then he hit some girl at a party who he thinks led him on… he’s a fucking sociopath and I’m not letting him get away with harming my baby sister to the point she wanted to take her own life.”

I didn’t like how aggressive she was getting and I didn’t care about the other people, the rumours, I just wanted to get better.

“Let me process, I promise I’ll think about it, but not now.”

Anica noticed that I was getting upset again and seemed to calm. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry… but he’s not going to get away with it. He’s going to jail for attacking you at the very least, I’m going to make sure of it.”

It got intense after that and although it was relieving to have someone on my side, I felt nervous by her coffee cup solution to all of my problems. Report the crime? Sure, if only it were that easy.

I felt my eyes misting over as I finished explaining the less detailed parts of the night. I blinked the feeling away immediately. I could tell he noticed, “Anyway, lets not talk problems, let’s talk fun stuff.”

“Okay,” he agreed, “on to something else pressing, I’ve given you two pieces of art now, when am I going to see your art?”

“When I graduate from drawing stick figures,” I joked. I knew he was genuinely curious being the art buff himself.

He laughed. I took a sip of my miso cup and set it back down. “No but seriously, I haven’t felt much like drawing or painting, but I did write some stuff…”

“I didn’t know you write too, can I see some of the things you write?” he asked curiously, “or is it private?”

“Its okay, you can see some of it. Its nothing special, just some stuff I’ve doodled in to the sketch pad over the past few days.”

“Great… some inspiration is better than no inspiration, at least that’s what I kept telling myself today.”

“You should make that passage you wrote on my drawing in to a song, I think that would be amazing, the words are great.”

I could see the cogs turning in his head, thinking about it. “Remind me, how does it go? Do you remember?”

“The first line was, Hold me, like the river Jordan and I will say to thee, you are my friend…

His lips upturned in to a gorgeous grin. “I know how it goes, I just wanted an ego boost, making sure you memorised it.”

We both laughed at his silliness. “Of course I memorised it, its beautiful and it helps me feel better. It reminds me that there’s someone in the world who gets me at last.”

He liked to hear that, I could tell.

As much as we tried, we couldn’t really escape our issues. We found ourselves continually going back to it. “Did you find out anything else about the case? Did you hear how the psych evaluation went with Casey?”

Michael picked about his food and gave a nod, “Yeah… she was displaying behaviours that indicate she was molested. My name came up a few times but apparently Casey didn’t want to talk which isn’t uncommon, she used silence to cope when she was really unwell.”

The whole thing sounded ridiculous. “They apparently found my DNA samples in her bedding, in her clothing but… really my lawyer told me that doesn’t mean anything. After all, I bathed and dressed her, when she was really unwell, I used to lay with her in bed to soothe her pain which happened a lot – all of those things are also consistent with being a good parent and that’s what I was to her.”

“What kind of DNA do they think they’ve got?”

“Hair… I don’t know, maybe skin, if they had anything else then I’d know it’s a set up.”

“So when’s court?” I asked curiously.

“Monday morning, 9am.” He tried to smile, but I could read that he was incredibly nervous.

“Can I come with you? To hold your hand?” I asked. I knew he probably wouldn’t want me there, but I didn’t want him to go through it alone.

“No,” he smiled, “it will be too crazy, but thank you… I appreciate that. I’m sure you’ll see it on TV.”

I just laughed. “Okay, well the offer is open…”

**

Leaving the restaurant was absolutely crazy. Police had to be called to help get us out. There were thousands of people lining the streets, the media were everywhere. It made Michael’s mood immediately darken.

“Don’t let them ruin it…” I said softly to him so that no one else would hear as we waited just out of vision. “We had such a nice time, well… I did…”

He gave me a half-smile which told me he was trying, but the damage was done. We saw the police arrive and begin to push people back. “Just be careful,” he warned me, “these kind of mobs are really scary, cover your eyes because the camera flashes will be intense and don’t say a word, don’t give them what they want.”

“Michael, at least smile,” I told him, “If you look upset they’ll print bullshit stories about you, if you look happy they’ll see confidence and that might make them feel more invested in your innocence.”

“I’m scared…” he murmured quietly as we watched the police set up barricades. Carsen had gone to get our car from the valet. “Out of all of those people, what if one of those people had a gun…”

“No one has a gun, Michael, I promise. We’ll get in the car and we’ll go back to your place and it’ll be fine.” I felt awful and he did look genuinely concerned. I put my arms around his torso and gave him a little squeeze to assure him. It felt a bit awkward, but I wanted him to know he could look to me for support and sometimes when I was scared or feeling alone, a hug really did go a long way.

He surprised me and reciprocated my embrace. “Thanks… you’re right, it’ll be fine.”

A police officer came inside the restaurant beside Carsen and found us. I pulled away from him and stood by his side. “We’ll take the girl to the car first to make sure she doesn’t get hurt,” the officer told Michael and the security guard as if I wasn’t there.

“Malania.” I corrected them, “I have a name.”

The officer threw a glance at me and didn’t acknowledge that I’d said anything.

“No,” Michael shook his head, “that’s not what I want to do, I want her to be by my side, I want to protect her from this, its my job, not yours.”

I knew he was trying to be macho and show his dominance but I really didn’t mind how we got to the car, as long as it was all in one piece.

“Mr. Jackson,” Carsen began, “there are a lot of people out there. We can protect you both better one by one.”

“I don’t mind, Michael,” I told him when he glanced at me, “if you trust Carsen to look after you, I trust him to look after me.” I didn’t want to undermine him in front of two big forces, but I didn’t want the officer to think he was being a dick.

“Okay, okay…whatever,” he agreed, “you go first… Will someone wait with her by the car to make sure no one tries to get in or do anything?” he asked the officer.

“Yes Mr. Jackson, we’ll make sure of that.”

It was crazy. I was whisked hastily to the car. They had me practically running to get in. As soon as I was in, I looked out the window. People had the cameras pressed up against the windows trying to take photos through the dark tint.

A few moments later I saw Michael walking out, giving a big grin and a wave as he exited the doors. His face was stone-serious by the time he got back in.

“Wasn’t that bad…” I told him.

He just said nothing and shook his head. I knew he was upset. I knew nothing I could say would change that. Instead we drove back to his apartment, taking an indirect crazy route until we lost the paparazzis. By the time we got back it was after 11pm.

“I’m probably gonna go to bed,” Michael spoke up, “thanks for the nice night.”

“Wait… don’t do this, Michael…” I warned him, “you’re upset about the press, but you knew that would happen, right?”

He reluctantly nodded.

“Well then what is it? Tell me… don’t go to bed when you’re this upset and this moody. Its not fair to me, it makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

“You haven’t.” he said quickly, “I guess its just disappointing that I can’t have a normal night out…”

“We had a normal night out. We went and ate dinner together and we came home—I had a great time. I hope you did.”

“I did… Its just frustrating because I want you to feel safe around me and when those things happen, sometimes safety needs to fall in to the hands of someone else, like Carsen and it makes me like…”

“Like what?” I pressed. He avoided my eyes, I knew he didn’t want to admit it, but I didn’t want him to walk away.

“Like I’m a failure… I failed with Diane, I failed with Casey, I don’t want to fail with you as well,” I could have hugged him.

Instead I just shook my head, “I don’t need anyone else in my life flexing their muscles around me, Michael, you’re keeping me safe. If you do that yourself or if you get your security to do that, then I don’t care, as long as I’m safe. You are not a failure. You did not fail neither Diane nor Casey. Diane did this shit on her own.”

He nodded as if he were listening but I could tell it didn’t matter what I said, his feelings were his feelings.

“The point is, Michael, we had a nice night. Which is what you wanted, right?”

“Yeah…I wanted to cheer you up.”

“Well you did. It worked, you truly cheered me up but I don’t want you to cheer me up at the cost of bringing you down, so… please just don’t worry about it.”

**

I hadn’t slept without a lamp without a well-lit room since the awfulness happened, but in Michael’s house there were no lamps in the bedroom. It was very, very dark save for a little light coming in to the room from the window. The silence scared me and the shadows seemed to be a lingering place for the demons that walked their muddy boots through my mind when I was alone.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and pulled the blanket over my head like a scared child. I tried to control the anxiety and the panic that flooded me. The dark gave me flash backs, I was too paralysed by them to get up and turn the light on. I tried to remember how to breathe through the anxiousness.

I was almost sure that I could see the shadows shifting, that his presence lingered within the darkness. I kept very, very, very still and quiet, hearing my heartbeat pounding in my chest.

I wanted to call out to Michael, for help, for anyone to hear but instead I lay there waiting with expectation for someone, well, him, to grab me, cover my mouth roughly and threaten me with his whispers in the dark as my body went limp with fear and trembled with pain.

None of that happened though, I was sure my own surge of adrenalin was what ended up putting me to sleep.

My own nightmares were also what woke me up, screaming and crying, terrified of the images and flashes of violence and abuse that filled my subconscious. The light flicking on and the door flinging open is what brought me back in to a lucid, somewhat startled and alert state.

“Malania, are you okay?” his voice was timid. He was bleary-eyed and surprised as he made his was way quickly to me. Full of shock and still raw from my dream, I curled up, trying to edge away from him in panic, trying to reconcile reality from dreamscape.

“Don’t…” I held my hands up, if I could have climbed the wall behind me to get away from him, I would have. “Don’t touch me…” I said quickly again. My teeth were chattering and I was trembling beyond control.

“Okay, okay,” he held up his hands, “calm down, its okay, you’re safe. I think you had a bad dream.” He was wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of black pajama pants, I’d obviously woken him up. “Take deep breaths…”

Once I began to feel my heart rate easing back to normal, I was overcome with emotions. I balled myself up, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. I tucked my legs beneath me, feeling disgusting and ill-at-ease with him seeing me in such a vulnerable light. I started to cry. I knew Michael didn’t really know what to do. I didn’t want him to touch me, my tank was full of cold sweat. I’m sure I smelled wonderful.

He gingerly took a seat on the bed. “Its okay,” he whispered, “I won’t touch you. You don’t have to be embarrassed. You had a bad dream.”

“Stop, stop being nice, you’re making me feel worse.” I sobbed.

He chuckled slightly, “What can I do?”

I couldn’t speak. My shaking just grew more violent with the shock that set in. It hadn’t happened for a long time, the nightmares, the flash backs, but I figured thinking so much about it and discussing it out loud with my sister brought it all back to reality.

“I’ll get you a drink of water, okay?”

I hugged myself and nodded. Michael disappeared allowing me a moment to get myself together. I remembered how awful and traumatic the nights were for me after I moved home from the hospital. 

I got up and paced, trying to stop my crying until he returned with a big glass of water and a warm, weighted blanket that he had retrieved from somewhere. “Here you are…” he handed me the glass. I took a few sips of it and felt him draping it over my shoulders.

“Relax, it was just a dream, you’re okay.”

If only I was okay.

I sat down. I let him touch me this time. He put an arm around me. “Did you ever have a name that your family called you? Have you always been Malania?” he wondered. It helped that he wasn’t pressing me for answers.

I took another few sips before answering. “You mean like a nickname?” my voice was still impacted by tears but I knew his random conversation was his attempt at calming me down and making me forget.

“Yeah… did you have a nickname, that you don’t hate?”

“Anica and my Dad used to call me Lanz,” I replied, “but then Anica stopped… she stopped calling me anything.”

“Lanz…” he repeated, “I like it… My little Lanz…” with Michael, I didn’t even need to look at him to know when he was smiling. You could always just hear his smile in his voice. It was the same when he was sad. He could try to sound as upbeat as possible but his emotions saturated his entire being.

I was still shaking, but he had a calming effect on me. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked at last, “no pressure.”

I shook my head. “No, just a bad dream.” I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“That’s okay, I wasn’t sleeping very heavily…”

“Do you want me to cut out your lights and let you get back to sleep?” he asked. I was as wide awake as an owl. I knew I wouldn’t be going back to sleep.

I shook my head quickly. “It’s the dark,” I told him bluntly, “I can’t sleep in the dark. I- shouldn’t ha-“ I felt my eyes welling up all over again and felt so fucking stupid. “I’m so sorry,” I apologized tearfully.

“Its okay,” I felt his hand rubbing my shoulder gently. He rested his cheek on the top of my head and sat with me for the moment, letting me cry. “I won’t turn the lights out.”

“Hey, you know what?” he began, “my Mom told me the best thing for bad dreams is to tell yourself out loud that it wasn’t real, it was just a dream and that before you go back to sleep, you can say a prayer and tell yourself that you’re going to have wonderful, sweet dreams… It always helped me.”

I knew he was trying to help, but my dreams were real. More like, they were vivid flash backs of things that had happened, perhaps they were more exaggerated sometimes, or they were different scenarios but it always ended the same.

I politely nodded.

“I get it…” he said, going to stand up, “you want to be alone. I don’t want to violate your personal space. If you need me, I’m across the hall.”

It was like he had given up. I felt bad, but fuck, I was tired of feeling so bad. I was tired of feeling guilty, it was so exhausting.

“Michael,” I called when he got to the doorway, “Don’t leave me alone…” it felt good to say it out loud, “I don’t want to be left alone… all I want to do is to find something sharp. I want to cut and I want to bleed and I want the pain to just pour out of me and I’m so freaking scared of feeling so vulnerable.”

I saw his face flex with concern and affection and sympathy all in one.

“You can be vulnerable…” he informed me, making a beeline back to me, “I promise you, you have no need to feel scared here. I told you, I just want you to feel safe around me.”

“I know… I just hate feeling like a burden.”

“You’re not, there is so much give and take in our friendship that I can hardly believe its real…” he smiled at me, “I love that about you, your heart is big and you are such an amazing support for me when I’m melting down…”

I breathed out a shaky sigh. “That dream felt so real. I don’t think I can go back to sleep.”

“Do you want to come watch TV with me in my room?” I knew his offer was with trepidation. He didn’t want to sound sleazy, but Michael never did. “I have a lamp you can keep on if that helps.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I desperately didn’t want to be alone. I gathered my things and followed him in to his room. If any other guy had ever invited me in to their room, the privacy of their bed, no-less, I would have run the other mile, but Michael was the absolute sweetest person I’d ever met. I trusted him implicitly. I knew he wasn’t trying to be a creep, he was trying to be my friend, to protect me from myself.

Quite frankly, I was my own biggest threat at that point.

It felt a little awkward at first. I sat stiffly on the edge of his large bed. It was a bit messy. There were books laying about everywhere in a tower beside his bed. It was obvious which side he slept on and that he definitely slept on one side. The other side barely had a crease on it.

He turned the television on which was sitting on a cupboard that had been moved close to the foot end of the bed. I’d noticed that when I came in earlier to look at his wardrobe with him.

“Here…” he took my glass from me and refilled it along with his own that was half-empty. I saw from his bedside clock that it was just after 3 in the morning. “I have cable,” he announced, handing me a remote control. He pointed to a button, “that’s the button you use to see the program listing”.

I pressed the button and scrolled through it slowly. “What do you want to watch?” I asked him.

He shrugged, “You’re my guest, you choose.”

“Is it lame if I put this cartoon channel on?” I asked him. I wanted to watch something that wasn’t intense or required too many brain cells. I was far too exhausted for that.

“No,” he smiled, “I like cartoons.”

It was Top Cat. I wasn’t a giant fan of Top Cat, but Michael apparently loved it. He sang along with the opening credits as I pulled the blanket that had been around me even tighter. I was no longer clammy and sweaty but actually cold since my body temperature was coming back to normal.

“Hey, its okay to get comfortable.” He proved his point as he got back in to bed and whipped back the comforter on my side. “Promise I’ll keep to my own side.”

I managed a smile his way as I got in to bed. I snuggled down beneath the covers and propped up to see the television with a few pillows. He got comfortable too and thankfully made no effort to turn the bedside lamps off.

We watched cartoon after cartoon until I felt my eyes begin to get heavy. Michael was still pretty wide awake. “I’m falling asleep,” I told him, “thanks for letting me hang out…”

He looked at me and smiled. “You can sleep here if you want, I don’t mind.”

He acted like he was doing me a favour but I knew based on the things that he’d told me in the past that he also hated being alone with his own thoughts. I almost resisted, but I thought of how dark the room got, the shadows that frightened me and the idea of having another dream.

It felt dumb because I knew my brother was no where near me. I knew that there was no chance of him hurting me, but my mind was paranoid when I was in the midst of anxiety attacks. I decided to stay with Michael because despite how he felt earlier in the evening before bed, I did feel like he was protecting me. I felt like he was a man with honourable intentions; that he wouldn’t let anyone harm me again, not even myself.

“Thanks…” I replied.

I turned to my side, facing inward toward him as he watched the cartoons. “I’ll leave the light on through the night.”

I knew having it off would be okay because there was someone in that room to protect me from all the ill lit areas and the moonlight that seemed to creep in and cast the images upon the walls that my mind seemed to give life to.

Having Michael there helped. I wasn’t about to risk it though. He did turn the television off when my eyes fell shut, though. I snuggled further down under the covers until it was just my head that was peaking out. I remembered that Michael and I had both napped together the first time he’d visited me in the psych ward, but this time was the first time I’d ever shared a bed with another man.

I couldn’t believe it was with Michael Jackson. It was surreal, given how just over a month earlier we’d had a very different relationship. I’d have never imagined it would turn in to this kind of friendship.

“Lanz…” he whispered, “are you still awake?”

I smiled, hearing him shorten my name. I liked it. “Yeah…”

“I think I’ll sleep better too having company,” he admitted.

I opened my eyes and found him staring at me. I smiled at him, exchanging a look. My hand rested between our pillows. He laid his over mine and returned the smile as my eyes fell shut again.

I’d never felt safer.

“You can cut out the light if you want…” I told him. I knew the light bothered him but he was being polite because he didn’t insist. He shut it off.

“You’re going to have good and wonderful dreams,” he remarked, “so don’t stress.”

“I hope so, I can’t handle more of those bad dreams.”

“Were they about your brother?” I knew that for him, asking the questions in the dark was easier. For me, answering them was a bit easier too.

“Yeah…”

There was some silence between us for a moment before he ended it. “I hate that he beat you and made you so scared of living your life.”

For some time I suspected that Michael had an idea that my secret wasn’t the beatings, he was pretty intuitive, but his comment made me wonder.

“Michael, remember when we always talked about my secret, I told you that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to tell you?”

“Yeah… and that’s okay.”

“I want to tell you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” I replied. “More than anything, I want you to understand me better.”

“I won’t be uncomfortable.”

“I also don’t want you to make a giant deal out of it. I don’t really even want to go in to details, but I want you to know because you’re my friend, I trust you and you’ve always been honest with me from the start.”

“Okay…” his voice trailed off.

I took a deep breath and remembered how it felt to have my sister on my side, for her to understand and not be confused by my actions or reactions any longer. I didn’t want Michael to think that I was neurotic enough to have night terrors over something like a one-off beating by an incensed lunatic.

“My brother ra… hurt…” I couldn’t think of a way to put it that took the weight of it away. “he raped me,” I finally blurted out.  

I’d said it. I was proud enough of myself but I hated the way my words hung in the air, surreal and damaging to me, tearing my heart apart but healing it as well in the most twisted way.

I had far too many emotions going on and could barely organise them from one moment to the next. But I didn’t care, because I had him, my friend, Michael.

Chapter 24 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

* Trigger warnings for this chapter. Suicide, self-injury, sexual abuse and ED themes. If you feel like you might be bothered by any of these things, please do not read this chapter.
** Thank you to all the new people reading and leaving reviews. I love receiving feed back, so please feel free to leave any critisisms or compliments. I am slowly getting thru posting chapters (I have completed around 44) and am updated them every few days, so if you would like to see certain things or feel like the story might benefit from something, let me know! I'm not easily offended :) 

Chapter 24

I woke up beside Malania, at first I felt a little disoriented but remembered how we’d chatted well in to the early hours of daybreak.

She was still asleep and curled up against me; I couldn’t help but to smile. She looked sweet. Her hair was a little dishevelled. It was the most peaceful I’d seen her look for awhile.

I yawned. I didn’t want to get up just yet. I wanted to just lay next to her. There was something so comforting about being in bed with a woman that made me feel incredibly masculine, a feeling that I didn’t always possess. Her hands were in a prayer position beneath her chin.

The feeling to reach over and stroke her the angles of her face almost took me, but I remembered my manners and the kinds of things that would have terrified her. Waking up to my hand on her face would have been one of those things.

I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was finding hard to process. Something changed in those early hours of the morning when she had finally put all of her trust in me. I felt relieved, horrified, affected.

I glanced at her hospital bracelet that was still attached to her wrist. She wasn’t perfect and I had wondered from time-to-time if it was healthy to have befriended someone with the same self-destructive behaviours, but I knew better than anyone that life wasn’t always perfect. I was far from perfect. Malania Nakamura gave me hope though, she made me want to make sure I was healthy and mentally well so that I could keep her healthy and well.

I had always been in the habit of trying to save people, but I was beginning to learn that that was only a viable little game when the other person wanted to be saved.

When Malania told me her secret, I felt angry and heartbroken for her. It explained all of the burdens and the different forms of guilt that she felt, but it also made me angry because what Diane was putting her daughter through, making false accusations, and by me screaming innocence, meant that another victim out in the world may have been dissuaded from coming forward.

Even if Casey really was molested, and it hurt to think about it, Diane had prematurely barked up the wrong tree.

I had never been in a relationship where I wasn’t doing everything. The other party always got so used to me being in charge, me paying, me saving them that there was never anyone throwing a lifeline to me. As much as I loved Diane, it did always feel like it was me. I always had to wait for her feelings, I always had to wait for her labels, I had to wait for affection, I had to wait for her to share her love. I had to be patient. I knew she had a lot on her plate, but perhaps she was never going to be ready.

I felt that perhaps my love for her was deeper than her feelings for me. Perhaps the only reason she kept me around was because I supported Casey and I supported her, supporting Casey.

The sobering reality of the situation could have only been brought about by me being far away enough from her to have the blinkers taken off.

And maybe I wasn’t in love with Diane either, maybe I was in love with the idea of being part of a family. I wasn’t entirely sure anymore. What I did know was that Casey was my world, and I could see the way that Malania was hurting and I desperately didn’t want that little girl to go through the kind of pain Malania was experiencing.

The very nature of my friendship with Malania was entirely different. She took care of my emotional needs too. Instead of pretending that they didn’t exist, or letting me go when I was in a bad mood, she pressed me, she wanted to talk and she encouraged me to share my feelings with her instead of brushing them aside to share her own.

I had an awful habit of letting myself get carried away, but maybe she and I had something.

Maybe.

I don’t know why I wasn’t expecting her secret to be something like that. The clues were all in front of me. I was gobsmacked when the words came out of her mouth.

I let the words hang for a moment before I was able to respond. I still wasn’t really sure about what the right thing to say was. Before I got the chance to say anything. She continued.

“It happened often for around about a month or so until I didn’t know how to deal and I tried to take my life. My sister found me and that damaged our relationship because she never understood…”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured out in to the darkness. I held her hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Its okay. It just meant when Samuel hurt me again for seeing me with you, I felt like it was just part two… and I panicked. In the hospital a nurse found me cutting. I broke the razor out of one of the shavers my parents brought me and that’s why I was sent back to psych…”

It made sense. I knew there had to be more to why someone would be sent to a psychiatric unit when that person was the victim.

Even though she didn’t want to go in to it, I let her speak and she began to tell me more than I imagine she had intended to. It gave me a better understanding as to why she was so furious with her mother. She wanted to be protected, for someone to stand in her corner, but really her mother just enabled her son to continue harming her until she began to harm herself.

She stirred a little beside me, I couldn’t but to smile. Her nose wrinkled a little bit as if she had an itch. I decided I would be brave and share my needs with her too. She had admitted that it took a lot of strength for her to admit that she didn’t want me to leave her alone after her dream. I understood that. It was hard for me to admit when I needed someone.

I definitely needed someone. I decided I would ask her if she would come to my arraignment with me. My Mom was a wonderful support, but her concern and upset over the whole thing made me nervous, it made me worry for her own health. My father was a great support too, he handled business when it was necessary, but emotionally supportive he was not. Malania, on the other hand, wouldn’t make any bit of it about herself or her pain. She would be beside me and she would hold my hand and she wouldn’t let her anger for my situation allow her to say or do anything stupid like the rest of my family did.

She was always going to be my greatest support.

She woke up slowly and sluggishly. At first she seemed a little surprised to find me beside her, but she looked at me a little shyly. I smiled, “Good morning…”

She chuckled, embarrassed, I wasn’t entirely sure why but it was endearing. She rolled over, her back facing me. I was offended momentarily.

“What are you laughing at? Am I really a mess?”

“No, no, no…” she laughed, “I’m sorry… I’m not used to waking up beside anyone. Certainly not Michael Jackson and I’m embarrassed about how rough I look in the morning.”

“Don’t be silly,” I was relieved. “You don’t look rough, you look cute…”

She rolled on to her back and stared at the ceiling, thoughtfully, turning a little serious. “Thanks for letting me sleep here…”

“You’re welcome… did you sleep okay?”

She nodded, glancing at me, “Yeah… so, I’m sorry about it all. I feel guilty burdening you with all of those things.”

“Don’t.” I said, rolling to face her, “don’t apologise, you’re not burdening me with anything… And while we’re on the subject, you are feeling guilty about far too many things, missy.”

She avoided my eyes for the moment and stared back at the ceiling. “Its hard. Its exhausting when I know I’m the source of everyone’s hurt at the moment. My sisters, my mothers…”

She drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Did I tell you Anica wants me to move in to her place when I get out of hospital?”

I smiled, “That’s great, maybe your relationship can heal, it might be a very positive thing.”

“Yeah…” her voice trailed off. I wasn’t entirely sure she was cool with that idea.

“No? That’s not what you want?” I asked.

She just shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of other options. My Dad did offer to help me, but I don’t think I can take being alone.”

“Well, the offer still stands for you to come and stay here. My door is always open to you.”

“Thanks Michael, but lets not wear out my welcome, shall we?”

I smiled at her. She had no idea that that could never happen. I remembered my thoughts just before she had woken up. “In the whole essence of your bravery in telling me your secret, I wanted to ask you something that I wasn’t going to, if that’s okay…” I began.

She dragged her eyes from the ceiling and back to me. Her large, warm eyes blinked at me expectantly. There was something a little reluctant about her. Perhaps the shame of the night before. I knew that the dark drew more bravery than the daylight.

“You asked me yesterday if you could come to the arraignment with me and I said no,” I told her, “but I wanted to say yes… I am just really, really cautious of triggering anything for you.”

She went to protest but I stopped her, “I realise though, that that’s being a bit silly and partially me being a bit too proud for you to see me at my vulnerable moments, so… I’m asking you if you’d still like to come; to hold my hand and be my support. My parents are coming too, but I need a friend.”

A slow smile spread across her lips as she turned to face me. “Of course, Michael, I would love to be there for you. I’m glad you told me the truth. I don’t ever want to use you solely as my emotional crutch, I want to be able to be there to stablise you too.”

I smiled back. A girl after my own heart… I let my mind drift off for a moment.

“Thanks Malania. I guess I was hesitant after the media went crazy at Neverland and all this happened…”

“Yeah, I’m just glad Beth didn’t ever actually come to my house or know my specific address…”

“What do you mean?” I questioned.

She studied my face for a moment as if she was wondering if I was serious. “Michael, she was the one who gave my name and number out to someone outside Neverland that day. That’s why they rang my house, my sister at work, my brother…”

“Oh, I’m sorry that your friend betrayed you…”

She shrugged, “To be fair, she probably feels like I betrayed her a little bit and maybe I did, who knows…”

“No you didn’t. I made it obvious that I didn’t want you to tell anyone and you were loyal with that, so I’m sorry that came at a cost.”

I knew there was a reason why I never took well to the tall blonde that smiled her sugary-sweet smile at me and always linked her arm with mine as we walked. I was always dubious of people that always told me what I wanted to hear. Perhaps that was why I liked Malania so much from the get go; she was honest rather than kissing my butt and being full-of-compliments.

She shrugged again, “Whatever… I don’t care.”

I stretched in my bed, reaching my hands up high and gave an exaggerated yawn. Malania watched me and smiled. I knew that smile, her eyes lingered over me shamelessly and I quickly realised that there was something there on her behalf. A spark, a little buzz, something. I wasn’t usually that great with picking up on someone’s feelings for me, but it struck me in that moment that she had some kind of romantic feelings for me; even if it was fleeting, it had been there in that instance.

I tried to be casual about it, but the very thought of it excited me. “What do you want to do today?” I asked.

She glanced at the clock above the doorway and yawned too, “I’m still tired…”

“Me too, you wanna lay in, watch cartoons?”

It wasn’t that often I got to lay in bed and when I was alone, the last thing I wanted was to be on my own, nor could I concentrate on the TV without daring myself to turn the news on.

“Yeah?” as if she thought perhaps I was being sarcastic. “Should we be more productive?”

“Why?” I asked, “do you have somewhere to be? You know, we didn’t go to sleep until about 3 or so hours ago….”

She chuckled, “guess I don’t… although I do have to be back at the hospital before 3:30, remember?” she reminded me.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you back before your therapy session,” I assured her.

“Thanks, Michael, for everything. Especially for staying up with me, I don’t think I would have been able to get through the night…”

“It was my pleasure,” I replied. I just wanted to know how it would feel. I reached over and caressed her silky, dark hair against the crown of her head, “anytime.”

Our eyes met and I felt the pull of that strong spark again. My heart leapt in to my throat and I considered kissing her. Touching her didn’t feel uncomfortable or wrong or even that I was taking advantage of her situation, also there was a huge part of me that was aware that she was particularly vulnerable.

She didn’t flinch, she didn’t pull away, she just pulled her eyes from mine a little self-consciously. I loved that little bit of shyness that still overcame her from time-to-time.

“Thanks for being my friend too, I don’t know that I said that. You’ve been through a lot and put up with a lot since we’ve started hanging out and it means the world to me,” I retracted my hand and tucked it back beneath my pillow.

“You’re welcome too,” she replied.

“I’ve never had a friend who looks out for me the way I look out for them,” I told her honestly. “Maybe that means either I’m bad at trusting someone, or I’m an awful picker of friends.”

Malania laughed, “What about Liz? She seems like a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is…” I nodded, “But she’s also almost double my age, a different kind of motherly friendship there. Sounds weird, but its hard to explain, plus… the things we have in common could never be the same things you and I have in common.”

“Well, what about Diane?” she asked me. Sometimes I felt like Malania asked clever questions that made me elaborate on my situations without realising it.

I smiled tensely. At this stage, her name made me feel a bit sick to my stomach. “In hindsight, I guess she could have been a better friend.”

I watched the gorgeous, fresh-faced girl before me and couldn’t help but to feel something. There was that little dimple in her cheek when she smiled that was beyond cute. It always did something to me, even back when I’d met her for the first and second time, superficially, probably what kept her in my memory.

“Seriously though, what was the deal? We always saw you hanging out with her, she was rude to fans, she looked like she didn’t want to be around you the other half of it…”

I grimaced, feeling a bit of me get defensive. “I guess that Diane was very, very focused on her daughter. I mean, can you imagine what it would be like to have to face the fact that you may very well lose your only child?”

Malania nodded, “yeah, but from what you and I have both experienced, even during times of tragedy the world doesn’t stop spinning.”

“I know,” I replied, “but some people deal with things better than others, the father of Casey left when Diane was pregnant and she just had a very hard time. She wasn’t a bad person, she was just entirely absorbed in her grief.”

“How did you manage to have a functioning relationship with someone who can’t see through their grief?” she wanted to know.

“I’m starting to see that I was the only functioning part of it,” I replied with a shrug, “Maybe I expected too much. Diane only ever said she loved me once. She always told me it wasn’t the right time, Casey had to be well, she couldn’t concentrate on the both of us, but I wanted to have a family and maybe that’s all it was in the end… my stupidity, who knows?”

Malania frowned at me. “You weren’t stupid… but maybe you wasted your time there.”

“Yeah, and look where it got me…”

“We can only learn from the mistakes we make, or the mistakes other people make, I guess,” she replied.

I reached over her and turned the television back on, signifying that I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“Subtle,” she mumbled at me with a little bit of a smile.

I just chuckled. She knew when to drop it though, she was pretty intuitive. She gave a yawn. I knew she was tired. She had some dark circles beneath her eyes and they were a little red.

“Come here…” I said, patting a spot right beside me. I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do, but it felt like the right thing to do. I’d never had a girl in my bed that I’d never cuddled with; if for no other reason but a bit of physical comfort.

She wasn’t sure and I could tell. It shook my confidence slightly, “if you want…”

She didn’t say anything. Instead she edged closer to me, hesitating slightly at first. She slid in to the crook of my arm and pulled her hair out of the way. I didn’t want to make anything weird by drawing attention to it, so I said nothing and together we both concentrated on the cartoon.

**

I woke up in typical disgusting fashion, with drool all over my face and covering the pillow. Thankfully Malania’s back was to me with my arm resting protectively over her. She was warm against me, her hair tickling my forehead.

I lifted my face and wiped my mouth, flipping the pillow over. I saw that it was just after midday. I felt so comforted and relaxed with the company that I had, that I was tempted to close my eyes and go back to sleep.

“Are you awake?” I heard her voice ask me.

“Yeah…” I murmured in a croaky voice. I felt her hand slipping up to grab mine that was resting on her hip. She pulled my arm further around her. I smiled, liking that she was being a little bit more forthright in wanting me to show her some affection as well.

“Didn’t peg you for the cuddly type…” I joked.

“I didn’t peg you as the type of gent that asks girls in to their bed, so… I guess we’re both surprised.”

I chuckled but actually wanted to straighten that one out in case there was more to it. “For the record, I don’t generally ask girls to my bed, but we’re friends, we both need someone.”

She pushed my arm away and I sensed that I’d said the wrong thing. She turned to face me, disrupting the blankets and allowing a draught of cold air to hit me briefly.

She sat up and looked at me with a little bit of disbelief, “Michael, I might need someone, but I don’t need sex comfort from you or anyone.”

I was shocked by the conclusion she had drawn from my last remark. “What? Malania, that’s not even what I was saying… I just meant that we are such good friends and that I feel comfortable with you enough to share my bed. Sheesh…”

She stared at me for a few moments trying to determine whether or not I was bullshitting her.

I stared back at her, “Come on, I find it a little bit insulting that you would think that I would try to make a move on you in some sleazy backhanded way by taking advantage of you after all you’ve just told me this morning.”

I saw a fleeting look of guilt upon her face. She seemed to retreat as quickly as she had launched her accusation at me. “I’m sorry…”

“Its okay,” I replied, “but don’t get it twisted up, I’m not that type of guy. Especially not someone who is in a vulnerable position.”

“I’m not vulnerable,” she challenged me, “I am clear-headed, it wouldn’t matter if you even tried…”

I sighed, “But I’m not trying, if I made you uncomfortable then I totally apologise. In my head, I was thinking about how awful it feels when I’m sad and lonely and then in contrast how good it is to have someone hug me and keep me company without me having to tell them every little thing that I’m thinking…”

I knew she was sorry. She looked like she could have cried. “I didn’t mean to get mad at you…”

“Its okay.” I said it again and I meant it. Given the demons that she was dealing with, I probably should have expected that particular gestures would make her suspicious or paranoid. I breathed in a sigh. The moment was gone, the warmth from the bed was gone. I sat up too.

“We should get up anyway, I gotta get you back to the hospital before 3,” I reminded her.

She watched me get out of bed. She reluctantly got up and stole away to the room that she’d been sleeping in previously. I poured us both some cereal and waited for her to join me.

She’d been gone a little while when I began to get a bit suspicious.

“Malania?” I called out through the closed door. When she didn’t answer, I pushed the door open and found her sitting on the edge of the bed with her fists clenched tightly together, her long hair falling over her shoulders and obscuring the rest of my view of her.

“What are you doing?” I asked her but I was pretty sure I already knew. I pushed the door open the whole way and made a beeline toward her. I was a little bit shocked and stunned at the jarring reminder of my own ironic pain relief.

She was breathing in short gasps. It was an emotional pain relief, there was no doubt in that, but the actual physical pain that cutting caused was sometimes enough to make us want to scream out. Perhaps that was just part of the release.

“Shit…” I muttered, finding my voice and my urgency rather than standing, stunned staring at another person’s blood running thick down her arm. I was angry with myself for making sure she didn’t have anything to harm with. “Malania, what did you do?” I murmured.

I realised that our versions of self-harm were a little different. She had truly made a mark. I wondered if that was a general practice but before I could sit and ponder anything, I had to make my legs work. I quickly made my way to the bathroom and soaked a cloth in some warm water and wrung it out. I made my way back to her.

“Don’t,” she cried, “don’t come near me…” her voice was full of tears and emotion. I wasn’t listening. I wasn’t even going to entertain her sudden self-awareness.

“Show me,” I told her firmly. Placating her emotions needed to come second. It looked like a deep cut. She tried to cover the inch long scissor cut along the inside of her arm.

“Malania,” I wasn’t angry with her, but I didn’t want to play games, “show me, don’t be silly.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, “I didn’t mean-“

“Its okay,” I replied, focusing on what I was trying to do. “Show me your wrist,” I told her, “hold it out in front of you.”

She was shaking and trying to evade me that finally I just grabbed her hand to stop her protests, “here…keep still.”

I pressed the folded cloth gently over her wound and pulled it around her wrist tightly. I took her other hand and pressed it down on top of the cloth. “Hold your hand on it, firm-like,” I instructed her. “Ok what did you do this with?” I asked her.

She nodded toward a pair of nail scissors. I didn’t know where they’d come from, but I picked them up and took them to the bathroom and left them in there to deal with after I made sure everything was okay with Malania. I was concerned that the incision she’d made might need some stitching.

I sat down beside her on her bed and put an arm around her. I didn’t want to give her a lecture, but I was a little bit disappointed in her.

“What happened?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head. I knew she was feeling particularly bad.

“Was it what happened back there?” I asked, referring to the little tiff we’d had back in my room. I’d left the situation somewhat unresolved, maybe it had set her off.

“I just… fuck up everything…” she muttered.

“What?” I asked incredulously, “what do you mean?”

“You tried to help me, you wanted to make me feel better and I go ahead and say something stupid, let my anxiety get the better of me and ruin it…” I saw the tears streaking down her cheeks.

“No, no, no… Lanz, everything you are going through is normal. To be fair, maybe it was a bit of a silly thing to do, cuddling you in my own bed after everything you’d told me.”

“I don’t want what I told you to change things, do you think of me different now?” she asked, daring to look at me. Her eyes seemed so empty and sad. She didn’t wait for me to finish, “this is why I didn’t want to tell anyone, they can see through me, I can see them staring and they know what happened, like they’re trying to imagine…”

“No,” I said again, “it doesn’t change anything between us, you are still my friend, why would I treat you different about something that you had no say in?”

She said nothing.

“Stop cutting, Malania,” I told her seriously, “you need to stop or else you’re not going to be let out of that hospital. I need you to come with me on Friday. I don’t want your day release revoked, and above all else, we have a pact, I’ve been living up to my end, I need you to do the same.”

She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologising to me, sweetheart, I just want you to talk to me instead of doing this… the way that I’ve called you and told you about my urges and you’ve talked me out of it. If you can’t talk to me about it, then tell yourself the same things you’d tell me to change my mind about harming.”

“But you don’t deserve to be hurt.”

“And neither do you.” I told her meaningfully.

She didn’t reply with words but rather gave me a tiny nod. I reached over and lifted the cloth to see if the bleeding had stopped. It seemed to be a little bit better. She didn’t protest or try to pull her arm away from me protectively so I took it as progress.

I waited to see if any new blood was surfacing, but there wasn’t. I felt a giant wave of relief. I knew it would look so bad if I took her back to the hospital with a giant gaping hole in her wrist.

I placed the cloth back down. “Come on, come with me to the bathroom so we can clean up your arm and put some antiseptic and a bandage or something over it.

She wiped her eyes again and followed close behind me.

Chapter 25 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

This chapter is written from Diane's perspective :) 

Chapter 25

“Mommy, I don’t wanna…” Casey wined over and over, her tears flowing steadily as she kicked and thrashed around. I held her legs for the nurse while she tried to calm her down. I was a mess, I couldn’t stop crying. I hated to see my little girl so distressed.

“Sweetheart,” the nurse soothed her, “it’ll just hurt for a moment, just a prick.”

She was about to give up on my daughter. It was no use, Casey was tensed up and hysterical. The nurse let go and I did too. She turned to me and apologised.

I wiped my eyes and gave her a weak smile. Casey scrambled up and clung to me, wrapping her entire body around me threatening to never let go.

“Its okay my sweetheart…” I murmured. I kissed her temple and stroked the crown of her head. “Mommy’s sorry…”

They needed to draw blood and scan her body to see if the treatments were doing anything.

And then there was everything else on top of it. Neither of us were coping particularly well.

“I want Michael,” she sobbed. It was something I was used to hearing around a hundred times a day. I didn’t know how to explain to her that he wasn’t coming back, that he wasn’t going to be in her life ever again. It was heartbreaking enough that he wasn’t going to be in my life ever again.

“I know baby, but Michael can’t be here with us, remember, he is doing his concerts…” I explained.

“We’ll calm down a little bit and I’ll come back…” the nurse suggested. I nodded.

I paced the ward back and forth with my little girl until she exhausted herself.

I remembered how Michael did this job and it was hard to admit, but he did it better than I did. He dealt with tantrums and sobs and the crying with more patience than I could ever dream to muster.

I felt sick to admit it to myself, but I missed him. I missed him so unbearably and inside I felt an overflowing beacon of guilt. 

His calming presence was enough to make Casey calm down. He never showed his own distress when she was in pain or protesting with her tears. I remembered how he held her firmly one morning before surgery. She tried to fight him as the doctor neared them with a shot of local anaesthetic.

“Its okay my baby,” he soothed her softly, “look at me,” he had directed her over and over until she finally followed his gentle requests. He looked directly in to her eyes and told her to relax. “remember when it hurts, we count to five, one…two…three…four…five,” he reminded her of a coping mechanism that he’d taught her. They continued counting to five a few times over until she began to grow a little sleepy from the needle. “When you wake up from your sleep Mommy and Michael will be waiting for you…”

When Casey woke up from her surgery, Michael was there waiting. He was a pro at being able to lift her out of the bed without disrupting cords and machines. He held her in his arms and sang to her softly while I sat beside him feeling helpless and hopeless over my daughter’s illness.

While my daughter grizzled in my arms, I grieved for the loss of my friend, for the hurt and humiliation I felt. I wanted to be furious, I wanted to pick up the phone and scream down the line at him until I felt justified, but none of it made sense and it was all still surreal.

The man that had an unspeakable connection with my daughter; who he cited as his saviour had committed something so hateful, so sinful, dirty and depraved to my little girl.

None of it made any sense.

I couldn’t reconcile the man that I had shared in my bed with the type of person who would do something like that. I found it hard to look at my daughter some days. My skin crawled where his lips and hands had been on other days.

I wanted it to be an awful mistake.

I was constantly being reminded each day of everything I was doing wrong and I hated that I let Michael become such an involved part of her life; of my life.

I was the biggest failure as a parent, a woman and person.

And the worst part was that my daughter was slowly slipping away from me.

**

“We are going to get that sick, smiling scum,” the prosecutor promised me as he glanced at the newspaper on my dining room table. Michael was page two, nothing unusual, but my stomach churned to see the photos. I was a mixture of angry, heartbroken, betrayed and sad.

He had a stern look upon his face, one of stress and frustration. I knew those expressions well; to others it would seem rather stony and expressionless, but I’d seen it all before. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses as he held tightly on to a young woman who was shielding her eyes away from the attention they were receiving.

I felt uneasiness in the pit of my stomach; jealousy, perhaps.

Michael always wanted to take me to dinner, he would think up the most elaborate of dates, but I couldn’t ever seem to drag myself away from my daughter. I felt incredibly guilty each waking moment I spent without her.

I knew it sounded unrealistic, but the fear of being without my daughter amplified my guilt for leaving for any other reason but what was absolutely necessary.

Now that Michael’s absence was noticeable my bed, Casey slept beside me and tolerated just how overbearing I was as a mother.

How could his world keep turning when mine had stopped? How could he inflict such evilness upon my- our precious baby and still manage to live with himself.

None of it made any sense.

I drew in a deep breath and shrugged. I didn’t want to get him. I wanted answers, I wanted to know how he could possibly do those things. I wanted him to admit it, to tell me. But even if he were to admit it, I wasn’t sure I could ever truly believe it.

I remembered back to the hospital visit. My daughter had been complaining of burning when she went to the bathroom after our last visit with him. She cried all the time and complained of soreness. Eventually I’d taken her to the doctor expecting something simple; a side-effect, something new and different.

I wasn’t expecting to have to submit my daughter to an invasive exam that I once again, wasn’t able to provide comfort for.

When the doctor told me her findings, I immediately questioned her; something I was told not to do, but rather to let professionals do. “Honey who did this? Who hurt you?” I asked my daughter. She didn’t answer. “You can tell me, its okay…”

I asked her point-blank with nauseousness in the pit of my stomach, “Did Michael do this?”

Casey began to cry and repeated his name and I knew.

Social workers got involved and my little baby became less communicative. It was her coping mechanism. It was frustrating some days but given everything she had been through, it was expected that she would need to find a way to cope.

“Diane?”

“Hmm?” I looked up to find the DA, this one Don Sheldon staring back at me expectantly.

“I said, its important not to let his happy press games fool you. It is in Jackson’s best interests to make himself look like a happy citizen; someone who is still dating, its an effort to make himself look like a regular, hot-blooded male.”

I thought about the way Michael was with me. There was no way it could have been faked. At times I questioned the sexual attraction between us, but my mind was always in two places at once during his company that I knew any feelings and emotions I possessed couldn’t be trusted.

“That doesn’t worry me,” I replied stoically, lying to him and lying to myself.

“Good.”

“So, are you happy with everything?” Sheldon asked me. What a fucking question.

I blinked slowly at him and tried very hard not to snap. I knew he wasn’t trying to be hurtful or even offensive, but how the fuck was I ever going to be happy with everything? I lost the only man that ever loved me, I lost my daughter’s father, I lost my support, my friend—to another woman, no less, but more than that, I lost any last shred of confidence and faith I may have had in myself as a mother and a caregiver.

I’d essentially failed my daughter.

Again.

Yeah, fucking ecstatic.

“Sure,” I replied, nodding a tiny bit.

“There’s 5 charges, which they’ll go in to on the day, but you know them already, so don’t be too concerned, they’ll just be placed in to legal jargon.”

I felt numb. I didn’t care. I wasn’t worried. I was going to trust the law with what had happened to my daughter.

“Okay.”

I took in a deep breath. It was all beginning to overwhelm me. A part of me wanted to pull the plug but I knew my Mom would never forgive me. It had been a long time since she’d been back in my life, but I needed her, I had no one else. Despite her disdain for what I’d let happen to my daughter, she had been good in crisis.

She provided a place for us to stay where the media couldn’t find us. She shuttled us to and from the hospitals that were incredibly understanding of our situation but the digs about Michael were unending. My mother was a God-fearing Baptist these days and God, did I know about it.

I was horrible at standing up to her, especially when I was unsure or not as to if she was mistaken.

I remembered how incensed I was when she had told me that my daughter’s cancer was a product of a baby out of wedlock. Casey’s cancer was the punishment of sex before marriage – she’d said that just after I’d met Michael. He had consoled me and told me how evil it was to say; yet he defended that my mother was probably disappointed and heartbroken for me and needed someone to blame.

Still, that had been the last time I’d spoken to her up until I’d found out just what he had done to my little girl.

And how could I hold that against her? Maybe she was right; I had no idea what I believed anymore.

If I had my way I may have dropped the charges; but the DA explained that even if I did, they would have gone after him anyway.

I looked to my daughter playing in the corner of the room. Every belonging in our house had Michael’s DNA all over it, if not his DNA, then his heart. The furniture were things he’d paid for, even the small easy-bake kitchen set that my daughter was using was something he’d gifted her.

It all felt sleazy, but I had no money to replace any of it.

There was a sense of shame that came with being a kept woman. Some articles had reported that I was a gold-digger, edging for a piece of fame. Someone had even suggested that he had cut me off and this was my way of getting back at him.

Despite how hurt I was, despite how crazy, heartbroken and sick I felt by the whole thing, I kept worrying that I was wrong, that I could be ruining his life; and the clincher was that even if I wasn’t wrong, I still couldn’t bear the thought of ruining his life or being the central line to his hurt.

I knew that made me a terrible person but my internal conflict led me down a very dark path.

Some days I couldn’t even look at my daughter for the ideas and images that it conjured. I hated it, it was like bugs crawling over my skin; a black oily liquid that leaked its way in to my brain causing me to feel dizzy and my heart beat to twitch and skip.

I loathed myself more than words could ever convey.

No one was going to win from this; not Casey, not me, not Michael – no one. And I was going to slowly wither and die with guilt and heartbreak.

My daughter already had a head start.

**

I remember how we were told for the second time that there was nothing we could do for Casey. Together Michael and I moped for days, crying on and off. I couldn’t catch him looking at her for more than a week with dry eyes. He carried her around like a baby given that she was still recovering from the latest treatment.

He didn’t stop at that, he did so much research, personally contacted leading oncologists world-wide to see if there was something more we could do. Eventually we went to London on a three-day trip to meet with a world-renowned specialist.

After meetings and meetings, we found someone willing to try out different trial-stage drugs which my daughter thankfully responded to. It was nothing short of a miracle, but that was just the way of Michael’s life – he did seem to have a magic touch.

Or so I thought.

I didn’t understand how someone could possibly hurt a tiny, sickly little girl when it was obvious that he was always so deeply saddened by her pain.

**

“I can’t do this…” I murmured, rubbing my throbbing temples. “I’m not sure I can go through with this and face him.” My voice was small and sounded as weak as I felt. I’d regressed back to childhood for the moment, recoiling even before I’d given my parent the time to snap.

My mother whirled around. There it was, the look, the scathing, disgusted look. It was the same one she gave me when I’d given her the news that I was pregnant.

“Oh, you can’t do this?” she asked sarcastically, mocking sympathy. “Guess what, Diane, this is not about you, this is about Casey, this is about you reaping what you sow, your sinful choices brought about this punishment from the Lord and you will make reparations and redeem yourself in the eyes of the saviour.”

I exhaled. The house felt enclosing in on me. I didn’t want to be there. If I had somewhere to go to, I would have shot through.

I said nothing. There was no point. Nothing I could ever say would ever be the right thing.

As if sensing my distress, I felt the presence of my daughter behind me. She came to my side, her smiling little face bringing a tiny bit of light back in to my heart. “Mommy?”

“Yes baby heart…” ugh, even Michael’s cute nickname for Casey was haunting me.

“Mommy, I got this, look…” she pulled a teddy from behind her back. My eyes fell closed, briefly. I had to try hard not to let the tears well in my eyes. “Its Big M, Mommy,” she reminded me.

She held a brown bear that I’d tried so hard to hide, hoping that Casey would forget about.

We visited Michael in Hong Kong very briefly early in the beginning of his tour and he took us everywhere with him, taking time out to see the sights with us. It wasn’t something I was used to, but it had been weeks since we had seen him that we had all been so excited to be reunited.

He took us to some kind of carnival where he completely ignored everyone except Casey and I. It was sometimes hard for us to get his undivided attention in the public eye. We had security barricaded around us and since Casey wasn’t entirely well, he carried her everywhere. Hanging out with her favourite Michael was just the medicine she needed.

That stupid bear, he won it for her on a game of whack-a-mole. She took it everywhere with her, slept with it and called it ‘Big M’ at Michael’s joke urging. Every time I looked at it after we came back from Mexico, I was reminded of how our lives had all been ruined.

I remembered how we hugged the bear after Casey had gone to sleep that night. “This is the crappiest, stinkiest bear…” he remarked with a smile, “but I’m glad that Case loves it so much…”

I had laughed too. It was lumpy and ill-crafted, but it was a little bit charming. “Casey loves anything that you give to her.”

Michael was unlike any other man I had ever met. He was masculine when he needed to be, yet he was blissfully unaware that some of his behaviours would have been sneered at by anyone else that came in to contact with us.

He put the bear down beside him and waited for me to join him with the glass of wine that I usually had after dinner to help with my nerves. When we met, he used to try to talk me out of drinking, but he just chose his battles better after awhile.

“So… what do they think about her prognosis now?” he asked.

I took a sip of my glass of red and breathed a sigh. “Can we not… I don’-“

“Come on, sweetheart, talk to me… we can do this…”

“I don’t know, I don’t know what they think, Michael, I’m too scared to ask. I’ve just had enough, they keep telling us she’s dying but then she springs back and we have hope again—what’s the point in asking?”

I felt his hand covering mine. “Okay… well, how is she doing then? How’s her pain?”

“Okay, she doesn’t complain much, does she?” I asked with a bit of a smile.

“No, but she did say her tummy was sore earlier.”

“Well… that’s to be expected I think. Larry didn’t care much for the complaining last night either, I don’t think he has a lot of patience for her.”

Michael shrugged, “Larry is okay, he knows how it is and I think he kinda misses being a Dad.”

We left Casey with Larry for a few hours the night previous when Michael had decided to take me out to dinner. We waited for her to go to sleep, but when we arrived home she was up and crying and complaining about her tummy. The swelling had been up and down during that time, so she was clingy and whiny when she was in a bit of pain.

“I don’t know how a person can do this job he does for you and not go home to his children every night,” I replied thoughtfully.

“Oh,” Michael shook his head, “his ex-wife moved back to Spain where she was originally from and took their younger girls with them. He hears from them now and then, but his ex wouldn’t even let him visit while we were in Madrid.”

“I’m kinda glad that Casey’s father never got to even engage in her life; I’m sure it would have turned in to something messy like that.” I shook my head, “besides, that sorry ass would have turned and run the second she got her diagnosis.”

Michael lifted my hand and kissed it softly. “Well I’m not going anywhere… nor is big M.”

I cracked a smile. His silliness always made me feel better. He picked up the teddy again and handed it to me. “Give me a hug when I’m away… I mean, its no me, it’s not the real deal, but… it’ll be a close stand in.”

We shared a laugh.

I always had a deep affection for Michael and I loved him for everything he gave to our family; hope, love, comfort, friendship; but I wasn’t sure if it ever extended from that despite the fact that he could be terribly romantic and warm and inviting.

I was never quite let myself go and let things progress within my heart the way he did. There was something for me that never quite clicked in to place. I tried and I did love him, but I was sure that while my daughter was unwell, I was unable to give myself to him.

“Thank you, Michael, for all this… we really missed you,” I told him.

**

Casey drew me back to reality. “Honey, Big M isn’t feeling very well, why don’t you put him back where you found him.” I tried to sound as though I was doing her friend a service, but she wasn’t buying it.

“But Mommy, I looked everywhere for him.”

“Casey,” my mother butted in, “don’t you speak back to your mother, you go and put that bear back this instant!” Mom pointed out the doorway. Casey looked up at her grandmother, still unsure of the new presence in her life. She wasn’t used to being spoken to so sternly.

Her lower lip trembled and she looked to me for her authority.

“You have been too soft on this child. Rules and discipline are going to go a long way, and a spanking wouldn’t go astray; cancer or no cancer.”

I need to get the fuck out of here.

I could have climbed the walls to get away. I pushed my chair back and scooped my child up before she began to cry. I needed to pick my battles. Casey hugged on to that teddy bear so tightly that I knew it wasn’t worth it to try to argue it out of her arms.

“Mommy,” she began to whimper, “I want Michael.”

So do I…

Chapter 26 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

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Chapter 26

“I’m just not entirely sure this is the right thing to do,” my father grimaced. I drew in a deep breath as I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands. “I know this is important to you, Malania, but you are important to me.”

I tried not to get angry, I tried not to act like a child throwing a tantrum, but I was so infuriated by the whole thing.

“I made a mistake,” I pleaded with him, “Papa, please.”

I had been moved to a residential ward, as they called it. Patient-stay, I was no longer on a psych hold, but rather an involuntary admission in a different hospital wing that my father had organised.

The day after Michael had dropped me back, a nurse had discovered my cuts which was hard to try to hide when I was checked over on a daily basis. They had revoked overnight leave for two weeks and day-leave for two days. The second day happened to be Michael’s arraignment.

I didn’t dare tell anyone that I’d cut myself on his watch, something that I was sure everyone would hold him responsible for, yet it was all me. I’d smuggled the small scissors with me from the nurse’s station when I’d needed to cut some threads on a sewing project I’d been working on.

“Malania-san…” he winced. I knew I was wearing him down, but he was torn and I could see it, “your health is the most important thing to me, I know Michael is important to you and I am very grateful for all the wonderful things he has provided for you, but I you are my number one priority.”

“Daddy,” I argued, “he is my friend, he was here for me every single day. He held my hand through it all, he is that person that I tell when I have urges to self-harm and he talks me through them… he is good.”

When he didn’t say anything, I tried another approach, “It took all of his courage to ask me to come with him to that court date.”

“Malania, I am not comfortable with this, even if I relented, I don’t feel great about my daughter being the focus of the world’s media. It was bad enough to see you all over the paper.”

“They don’t care about me Papa, they care about Michael. They care about a story, but there’s no story, we are friends. He is the best friend I’ve ever had since Luke.”

We both looked up, a little startled when a throat cleared at the door. It was Michael and Carsen. Carsen waved at me with a little smile when both my Dad and I sheepishly pretended to be discussing the weather.

“Your Dad is right…” Michael said in a way that I knew was just to please him and to calm me, but really he didn’t agree.

My father went to say something, but Michael spoke over the top of him. This was the first time they’d met since the awkwardness of their initial encounter. Michael extended his hand out to my Dad.

Dad shook his hand. “Its nice to meet you again, I’m Michael…as I’m sure you guessed.”

Dad smiled, “George.”

I laughed every time my Dad called himself George. For whatever reason, he felt like it was a good idea to give himself a western name.

“Its Gyousei,” I corrected my Dad. Michael glanced at me quizzically, “his name, I added. Gyousei.”

Michael smiled at my Dad who just laughed and shrugged a little awkwardly. I knew he was embarrassed that Michael had heard what he’d just said.

Michael played it cool. He made his way to my bed and gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “How are you?” he asked casually, “nice new pad…” he winked, looking around. It looked more like a little dorm room than much else. I had a bed, some medical things, a small desk and a cupboard by it with a few belongings. Such was the treatment centre.

“I’ve been better…” I replied, scowling at my father.

“Well…” he began, sitting next to me on the edge of the bed, glancing at my Dad, “I was thinking, it was probably unfair of me to ask you to come along to that arraignment, especially while you are recovering—I can totally understand why your Dad would have his concerns.”

“Michael, this is not personal…” my father quickly added.

Michael held up his hands and smiled, “you don’t need to explain. Malania is in a vulnerable state right now, it would be probably the wrong thing to do, to introduce a new circumstance that could be tumultuous and unstable.”

“Your life is not unstable,” I told him, “and stop talking about me like I’m not even here. I’m 22, I can make my own decisions about what I want to do.”

“Malania-chan, please listen to us, we care about you. Michael understands, plus we have agreed to adhere to the rules of your treatment.”

I was growing livid. “You and this treatment facility are going to punish me for grieving in the only way I’ve known how for the past …. What…. 6 years by now allowing me to pass on my support to a friend who has … given his time and love to me during my hard time? That’s fucking madness!”

Michael tried to calm me by putting an arm around me but I shrugged him off and got up. I shook my head, “this is bull.”

“Malania, do not swear at me, I’ve brought you up better than that.”

I sucked in another breath and glanced at Michael but looked away before he could see the tears in my eyes. I felt like the worst friend and only had myself to blame. My own stupidity caused me to lose the privilege of being able to return the support he’d given me.

“Lanz, come on, I’ll be fine, I’ll have my Mom and Dad with me and Liz said she could come too, so its okay… afterwards I’ll come to see you and tell you how it went,” he tried to be brighter, but it wasn’t helping me. It made me upset because I knew that hearing my inability to attend was also hurtful to him despite the fact he would have never admitted it.

My tears betrayed my fake bravery.

“To be honest, this court date is probably going to be the easy one,” he tried to reassure me. I was surprised he was talking about it so openly with my father present. He liked to pretend things weren’t happening outside of the confines of our friendship.

“I’m very sorry for what’s happening, Michael,” my Dad spoke up. I was glad he said something; it was a little, weird elephant in the corner.

“Thank you,” he smiled. Michael was putting on his celebrity face for my father. I was used to seeing him acting real with me, but also prone to seeing him say all the right things to charm others in the way that he did, “I appreciate that.”

“Malania-san speaks very highly of you, you have the support of my family and I.”

Michael’s smile grew a little. I knew he liked to hear the support. It did help just a little bit. “Thank you… thank you. Malania has been a very good friend to me over the years.”

I regarded Michael with a smile, forgetting my upset for the moment.

My Dad didn’t seem surprised to hear Michael appreciating my loyal friendship. “Malania-san has very good integrity.”

“Okay, okay, I’m still here, and I’m still angry.”

I didn’t know really how else to argue when both men were against me so I gave up. My hopelessness over it made me want to cut again, but I knew that those behaviours would end up causing me greater problems.

“Malania-san, I might leave you and Michael for a little while. Your mother is going to come in and see you this afternoon, please be gentle to her.”

I drew in a deep breath. I really didn’t want to see my mother and I’d seen her just twice in the two and a half weeks I’d been in the hospital. Both times I had asked her to leave.

“Papa, I don’t think I want to see her.”

He cocked his head to the side as if he were disappointed. I was used to that look from him, he really wanted me to try. I understood but I also hated the idea of having to do something for him after they’d not really done a lot for me.

“Malania-san, your mother has gone through a lot of pain too. I am not saying that she is without blame, neither of us are, but she has spoken to the police about everything, she is seeking counselling for herself and is trying to do all the right things so that she can be a good support to you. Please acknowledge that she is trying.”

I felt guilty once again. I looked at Michael who shrugged at me, as if to tell me not to look to him to tell me what I should do.

“Okay.” I thought about telling him that I’d only see my mother if he let me go to the court date with Michael, but I knew that was quickly leading in to teenage territory.

“Okay,” he confirmed, “I’ll see you later.”

He shook Michael’s hand and leaned over to kiss my forehead.

“Bye…” I murmured.

Michael said goodbye too. He closed the door behind him and left us alone. I felt the atmosphere shift and Michael instantly relaxed. It was almost like there was tension that dispersed immediately.

“So… I shouldn’t bother asking how you are…”

“No,” I shook my head, standing up. I was glad that this new room was carpeted and made to feel a little less sterile. I got up and walked around the bed and pulled out a sketch book from the drawer and handed it to him.

“Here… this is deeply personal, but I can’t draw at the moment, so you wanted to see some of my ‘art’,” I made little air quotes above my head. “So here’s something I wrote a couple days back.”

“Ohhhh….” Michael took the book almost excitedly.

“Don’t.” I told him. When he looked at me expectantly, I continued, “Get excited,” I said, “don’t, its not amazing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he smiled. He opened to a page and let his eyes linger over one of the pages.

Time never stops; this is an absolute that shows no regard for the switch in my heart that’s set to ‘off’.

The interior turmoil continues to consume me. It is a turmoil that renders my heart useless to anyone or anything else; past or present. This turmoil seduces me in to believing things and feeling things that I once promised that I would not.

I don’t want to wish you unwell, I just want to allow myself the chance to breathe you out.

But writing it, letting these words fall from the tips of my fingers and on to this page… it takes away my silence and suddenly it makes everything so real.

His eyes lingered to the following paragraph. His silence was killing me. This was the most vulnerable I’d ever been before him.

Memories fade.
Dry eyes.
Cold hands.
Stone Hearts.
Deliberately caged far away in a distant place that mocked a disguise of safety.

History always repeats.

We’ve both become what we both dreamed not.
Resentment, bitterness, fear, rejection frozen in to a web that has been subconsciously woven.

The silent lull of anguish enshrouds us like a thick, dark storm cloud that never breaks apart. The bitterness, the taste so black, so poisonous – we gag.

Aspirations and hopes once coddled and nurtured, now apart at the seams; undone; unpicked. Left in pieces, shrugged away and now deemed unimportant.

Repeating history.

A soft contact; skin-to-skin, eye-to-eye;
brief.
Feared.
Suspicions arise.
A nervous heart, untamed.
So much easier to push away. We’ve learned just how to reject, by nature to succumb to fear.
As natural as breathing.

A flood of future endeavours quickly diminish. Dreams too, shrugged away; tossed aside.

We crumple quietly in distant place. We embark upon a journey of perpetual heartbreak. We are torn apart before any remote plans for structure.

How presumptuous.
Protective.
Careful.
Paranoid?
Alone.

Futile; too much trouble.
Desperate to give up; cease effort.
Walk away.
Unresponsive.
Alone at last.

History repeated.

He read over it silently a few times before looking up at me with a smile. “I’m torn,” he announced finally.

I never really considered how intimidating it was to share my work with him. It was more like journal thoughts than any kind of poetry or worthy prose, but it was something to share a bit of my heart the way he had with me through his own drawing and lyrics.

“Between?” I prompted him, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

“Between being excited over your talent and wanting to give you a hug for the words and the feelings you’ve shared…” he admitted.

“Its just a journal entry or two…” my voice trailed off.

“What were you thinking of when you wrote this second one?” he wondered. Michael was a very curious man. He never minced his questions. If he wanted to know something, he was very forthright in asking about it bluntly. If I wasn’t interested in sharing, he usually said it was okay, but it never stopped him from asking.

“Honestly?” I eyed him. He nodded.

“You and I… the situations we’re in. Both extremely different, but trying to trust again, feeling safer alone but worse off for it… When your heart is telling you to relax and that its okay, but your mind knows better. And the waiting, always waiting for someone to do something to make you regret everything.”

“I didn’t want to be cocky or think myself more important to you, but I felt like it was a bit like that… beautiful, Lanz…”

I was still getting used to him nicknaming me. It wasn’t something I disliked, but after so many years, it took some getting used to.

“Thanks…” I didn’t like the mood getting too intense. I already had an awful afternoon, I didn’t really want to make it darker. “I’m sorry I can’t come tomorrow.”

“I understand that your parents don’t want this lifestyle for you. I get it, I’m not offended. I know you’ll be cheering me on from here.”

“I had my day leave revoked,” I admitted to him. “for the self-harm at your house.”

“Jeez, your parents must really hate me,” he murmured, “I’m really sorry.”

“I didn’t tell them where it happened. In this facility they do a daily check to make sure I haven’t cut myself… and apparently its okay to punish someone or take away their only way of coping with a situation.”

He gave me a funny look. I could tell he didn’t approve of the punishment, but I knew he also didn’t approve of the behaviours.

“I’m so sorry. I feel so stupid, I should have known better… I feel like a failed you.”

Michael shook his head, “No, its totally okay, don’t stress I’m going to be fine.”

I knew he hadn’t come in to just visit. He had come to debrief me on how the day was going to work. He wasn’t coming to tell me that he’d decided against me coming, he had just tried to save everyone’s feelings.

“Okay.”

He looked back at the sketchpad in his hands with my words all over it. “Did I mention, you also have the most beautiful penmanship?”

He always managed to make me smile. “You could be a calligraphy artist…”

“Thanks Michael…”

“Can I keep a copy of this?” he asked kindly, “I really like it, it really does strike a chord within me….”

I held out my hand for the book. He passed it over, expecting that it was a no. I simply ripped the page out and handed it to him.

He seemed shocked at first but then smiled. “Thanks… I’ll keep it in my pocket tomorrow,” he promised, “for strength, it’ll remind me that you’re with me.”

I was affected by his kind words and I almost began to cry again at the frustration of the whole situation. Instead I gave him a weak smile and thanked him.

“I’m sorry but I can’t stay. I have another meeting with my lawyer tonight to go over what the charges are. Are you going to be okay on your own?” he asked.

I nodded. I knew the second he left I was going to crumple in a heap and cry over how stupid the situation was and how unfair it all felt.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, well, I’ll give you a call tonight after 7, how does that sound?”

I smiled. I loved how he was basically revolving his life around my hospital time. I wasn’t entirely sure why he was so drawn to me, but I certainly wasn’t complaining.

He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Whenever he hugged me, I found it harder and harder to let go. I knew I was bordering in to dangerous territory with growing feelings some day. I didn’t want to pine for him because I wasn’t really sure I’d even know how to go about a proper adult relationship, and even if I was sure, I wasn’t certain his feelings would further from being platonic.

When he was about to walk out the door, I stopped him. He turned around and gave me an expectant smile.

I wasn’t sure what it was exactly that I wanted to tell him, but he gave me a few moments to gather my thoughts. “Be strong tomorrow…” I murmured, “its going to be a hard day, but please be strong…”

“I will, I promise.”

“Okay…” I got up and met him at the door. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly. Surprisingly our polite hug moments earlier seemed like it never happened. He embraced me securely and I realised how reluctant he was to let go.

“You’re my best friend in the whole world right now and I feel so awful that I can’t be there for you like you have been for me.”

“Its okay,” he murmured quietly even though we both knew it wasn’t okay. If only I had controlled my urges like I’d promised him I would.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I let go and watched him walk out of my room.

**

“I am so happy that you are having me here, Draga…” my Mom said once we finished with all our awkward pleasantries.

I didn’t really know what to say to that. I just shrugged. I wasn’t nasty enough to tell her that I was only doing it for my father because he’d all but begged me.

“Thanks for coming…” I squeezed out.

“Your room is very nice, did you draw this?” she pointed to the picture of Michaels that I had on the wall behind my bed. Sometimes I liked to lay with my head at the foot of the bed so I could stare at it. If he was genuine about my writing, its pretty much the same way I felt about his drawing; like he was with me when he couldn’t physically be.  

“No, Michael drew it for me when I first came to hospital,” I replied coldly. I found it very hard to not be rude, so civil was about as good as I could muster.

“He has been a wonderful friend to you, no?”

I felt anger overwhelming me when I glanced at my mother in her typical 60s housewife dress. It was the first time in awhile that I’d really noticed that she had aged. Her skin was weathered and her face showed lines that I’d not paid much attention to in a long time. She was tired and nervous, I was very aware of that.

My mother had always been a nervous person as far as I could remember. She was incredibly self-conscious and humble and weak. Maybe that’s what it was.

Her silver-grey hair was pulled back in the same way it always was; in a bun held together at the base of her neck. It seemed a like a bit of a harsh look, though her features were so soft and gentle that it was sometimes hard to be mad at her for too long.

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy,” I agreed almost dismissively. I remembered that she had betrayed me by telling my father that he and I were hanging out. I tried to be fair though, I knew that she probably thought that sharing the information with her husband was the right thing.

“Would you like anything from home? I can bring you some of your bedding from home, to make things a bit more comfortable.”

I just shook my head, “no thank you. Michael bought me some new pillows when I was back in the other ward.” I’d complained of a sore neck and that afternoon I received a gift from him through Carsen. There were couple of orthopaedic pillows that were an absolute dream to lay my head upon.

“Oh.”

“So, are we just going to sit here and be pleasant?” I asked her, “because honestly, it’s making me anxious. If you have something to say, just say it,” I prompted her, hating the small talk.

Draga, I apologise a thousand times over, I don’t know exactly how to talk to you when you are so mad with me.”

“Why are you apologising, do you even know why you’re sorry?” I asked. I kept reminding myself to keep my voice even and calm. I didn’t want to upset her, it wasn’t worth working us both up.

“I am apologising because I didn’t know and I should have known what your brother did, I am your mother. I turned a blind eye and everything that happened is my fault. It is not your fault and I am so sorry that for so long you felt like this could be your fault.”

As angry as I was, I didn’t want her spending every waking hour blaming herself, because although deep down I’d wished very hard that she had been able to protect me, I knew that it wasn’t her fault. It was my brother’s fault and no one elses.

I remembered back to the time that he hit me when I’d arrived home back from Hayvenhurst. When Mama tried to stop him, he hit her too. Even if she had tried, she could never have stopped the kind of adrenalin-filled rage that seemed to consume him.

“Mama, its not your fault this happened to me,” I told her bluntly, “its Samuel’s fault. I’m mad at you because you always took his side not because this happened to me.”

“I didn’t take his side, my darling,” she insisted, “he is also my son, I didn’t want to believe someone like this could be part of me and part of your father.”

“You took his side,” I repeated. “When I went to the police you begged me not to press charges. You begged me to go back and tell the police I’d made a mistake— he hurt me all the time and you saw the bruises and you even watched him. Love and prayer is not going to change that man.”

“I was in denial. I wanted to believe he could change but that is before I knew what he did to you.”

“You stuck up for him when he almost killed Luke. Weren’t you shocked and rattled that he nearly killed a person?”

Mom looked at her hands that was clutching at her black leather handbag. “Yes, but he was young, I thought there was something wrong with him that we could fix. We tried to get him help, Malania, I didn’t want to give up on my son and I don’t want to make an excuse for his behaviour but without knowing the pain he was causing my beautiful baby girl, I had to do my best for him also.”

I guess that made a little bit of sense.

“When I told you what he did to me, you didn’t believe me… you thought I was making it up.”

“it confused me and I am not proud of my reaction, but I did not disbelieve you, Malania.”

I sighed. “I just wanted my Mama to look out for me and disregard Sam and Anica and Kaito… I have never doubted how much you love me and how close we have been, Mama, but I have doubted your ability to be impartial when it came to Samuel.”

My Mom decided to be brave. She gingerly got up and came to my side. I was sitting on my bed, I basically lived out of my bed these days. “Malania, I love you, you have a very, very special place in my heart because you are my last and most gentle child. From the bottom of my heart I apologise for Samuel’s actions, for not protecting you and for not being a better mother.”

The second I felt the gesture of her arms around me, I began to cry. It escalated quickly in to deep sobs from the pit of my gut. They were tears of relief, heartbreak and sadness; the entire day overwhelming me.

She held me in her arms and smoothed my hair. I knew she was crying too because I could feel her body tremble as she held me. “I’m sorry,” she kept repeating, drifting in and out of her native tongue every now and then.

“Its okay,” I heard myself replying once I had calmed down a little bit.

“I don’t want you to hate me, draga,” Mama murmured, “but I understand if you need some time.”

“I do need time, but I also need my Mama and my Papa to be strong supports for me.”

“Whatever you need,” she told me, “we will be that for you, your sister also, she is hurting over all of this as well.”

My Mama held my hand and talked to me about her feelings for once. It was refreshing. She was the kind of woman who never complained, never wanted to rattle anyone and who never stood up for herself for fear of upsetting others.

She said she was scared of feeling hatred toward my brother for all that he had cost our family; for all that he’d cost me.

After an hour or so, my Dad arrived and he seemed happy to find Mama and I sitting close on the bed. We must have looked a sight with our eyes red and blotchy faces from all the tears.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you tonight?” Dad asked me kindly. He came and gave me a hug.

“I’m alright, Daddy.” I replied. Dad leaned over and kissed my Mama too.

“Good…” he replied. He had a bag in his hands and gave it over to me. “Your Mama has been baking, its your favourite…” he told me.

I managed a smile remembering back to when I had taken some baked goods to Michael at my Mama’s urging. I had felt so lame for it, but it turned out that he’d eaten and enjoyed them.

“Oblatne…” I murmured happily, “Thanks Mama…”

“That’s okay, my draga, there’s some others in there also.”

“Malania,” Dad began, taking a seat. My Dad was always well dressed even when he was at home relaxing. He always had on black slacks and a button down shirt. He even had a tie on at that moment, although his sleeves were folded back a little bit.

“Yeah?” I asked, looking up from the container inside the plastic bag that contained goodies for me. It made me realise that I did miss home a little bit.

“I debated whether or not I should do this; but I have been making phone calls this afternoon and doing some research over the past few days and I found a treatment facility that I think I’m going to send you to.”

I was surprised. “What? I’m not even going to be here that long…”

“Malania, I really want what is best for you, so does your Mama and your sister. Your sister found a treatment facility about ten minutes from home and she is going tomorrow to check it out. Something that you said earlier struck me, and its made me believe that I’m doing the right thing.”

“What’s that?” I wondered, feeling dejected and disappointed. I really felt like I wasn’t going to be staying too long. I was shocked.

“I was reading information that had been given to me by your shrink about self-injury and there are strong links between post traumatic stress disorder and sexual or physical abuse.” I hated hearing him speak about me like that. “It says that self-harm is like an addiction, a way of coping which is what you said earlier when you found out your leave had been revoked for tomorrow.”

Ugh, the failure of not being a good enough friend.

I was pretty sure my scowl said more than any words needed to.

“The paper work said it was wrong for parents to punish their children for self-harming, so I wondered why this ward is punishing you, after all, it is a coping mechanism and we’ve been told its unrealistic to expect a person to stop cold turkey.”

I felt happy to hear his words. I’d been infuriated by the same thing.

“When I spoke to the new treatment centre earlier, they said that they take a more holistic approach and teach you new coping mechanisms and that slip-ups are going to happen, but it’s a 5 week program and they have a 99% success rate.”

“Okay…” I felt a little bit brighter about it. “So I’m here til then?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but your mother and I discussed on the way that we are going to override the decision to revoke your leave. If the hospital has an issue with it, then we will take you home until you get a spot at the new place.”

It felt like music to me. “oh my god, does that mean I can go with Michael tomorrow?”

Dad smiled. “Well, a strange thing happened… your friend Michael had a car parked for him right behind mine, it was blocking me in – a nice man he is, sweetheart, but his security guard is not the most considerate when parking.”

“Go on…..” I prompted him suspiciously.

“Michael and his security guard and I had a chat about you and I decided that its not fair to punish either of you. This man has been a very, very good friend to you and I think that perhaps you have been a very, very good friend to him as well.”

“So yes?” I pushed for the answer, “please say yes.”

“Yes draga, you can go with Michael tomorrow.” My Mama spoke up, “but he is going to call here after dinner with some information for us all, okay? and Papa needs to speak to the chief nurse.”

I didn’t give a shit about all that.

I was going with Michael. Not only that, but it occurred to me in the explanation that my father had given me, that he may not have entirely understood what was going on with me, but he was certainly giving it a good, hard shot at trying.

That meant more to me than he could have ever known.

Chapter 27 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Please leave a review or a rating if you love this chapter! Honesty and critisism always welcomed :) Thanks for reading!

Chapter 27

“Do you ever just get so mad at those reporters that you think up ways that you could harm them?” Malania asked me in a quiet, thoughtful way as we watched out the car window. It had been a silent ride for most of the way to the courthouse, though now that we were near and my stomach was knotting up, we casually watched the paparazzi and press go insane around the convoy of cars, trying to figure out which one I was inside.

Thank god for tinted windows.

“Hmm?” I managed to catch her question though it had taken me a few minutes to bring myself out of the clouds in my head.

“Do you ever want to punish these imbeciles?” she asked again patiently.

I smiled briefly out the window and shrugged. “What good would that do?”

She didn’t really answer. The whole way she held my hand. Her fingers were laced through mine and we sat side-by-side, arm-to-arm, feeling tense and respectively nervous for the afternoon ahead.

It was the first time I’d ever seen her dressed up and had I not been in such a dark mood, I’d have probably taken much more notice and paid a much keener eye to the details. I did manage to at least tell her that she looked beautiful.

I didn’t know much about women’s fashion, but I knew that her style was a whole lot more conservative than I’d have thought, or maybe her choice of clothing was based solely upon the purpose of day. She was dressed very simply in a navy blue long-sleeved pencil-dress with a white peter-pan neck and cuffs and a matching thin, white cloth belt. She wore a pair of navy heels that gave her a couple more of inches height against me.

“Are you okay?” she asked me in a quiet voice as if she was afraid I’d say no.

I wasn’t okay, I was scared and nauseous and bordering on getting a case of the shakes. “The sooner we get this afternoon over with, the better I’ll feel.” I worried about her too, being taken from the hospital back home by her parents, all for this; for me.

“What about you?” I asked, “how are you coping?”

“I’m fine, Michael, I’m here for you…to hold your hand today, to be a friend to you.”

I lifted her hand and kissed the back of it; the only thing that I could think to do that wasn’t a gesture too over-the-top.

“I’m scared that I might cry when I hear the charges being read out…” I admitted freely to my friend.

“If you cry its because you are human and because you’re worried. Its not an indication of weakness or a sign that you feel guilty, Michael,” she told me. “And if you do cry, I’ll be with you.”

“You won’t think I’m less of a man?” I asked quietly.

“Well, yes, I definitely will think that and I’ll heckle you until my throat is hoarse, but hopefully our friendship will make it past that,” she answered so matter-of-factly that I actually wasn’t sure if I wanted to burst in to tears or in to laughter—possibly both.

I went with the laughter. I was so very glad for the comedy relief. She laughed with me too but when it subsided, she became serious. “Michael, you are human. Men, women, children—we all cry. I won’t think any less of you. God, I’ve been locked up basically in an asylum for the past month --- almost, and you’ve not judged me…”

“You’re not in an asylum,” I told her almost sternly. We had arrived and almost immediately all I could hear were the deafening chants of my name. It was a burst of strength that I needed, the fuel that spurred me on. Medicine – it was like medicine, the love and the support, I could hear it, I could feel it in the chants.

“I told you everyone would be here for you!” Malania told me, her eyes were a little wide with shock. People were closing in around the cars, being held back by a fence of burly police officers. I couldn’t help but feel a little bit pleased that their job was to protect me given that their job had been to find evidence against me just a month back.

I saw brightly coloured signs with clever catch-cries and slogans that proclaimed my innocence. It really did boost my confidence. I couldn’t help myself, I wound the window down around about half-way so that the fans could see my face. I reached out and waved, letting them know I was acknowledging them.

“Michael, be careful!” Malania exclaimed. I turned back to her and smiled.

“You never minded when you were on the other side of the window!” She cocked her head to the side and gave me a sarcastic smile as if the joke irritated her.

“I love you!” I cried out the window. Fans erupted in to full blown pandemonium.

“We love you! We love you! We love you!” they shouted, followed by “innocent! Innocent! Innocent!” I kept on waving and smiling and blowing kisses. It was exactly what I needed. I had been so scared of the amount of fans I was concerned that I might of lost. I was concerned about turning up to court with people shouting abuse at me.

But this was wonderful, my fans helped. Malania helped too, after all, she was my biggest fan, the number one supporter—always in my corner and always on my side.

I glanced at her as I wound the window back up. She was looking worried and even tenser. I smiled at her, feeling a bit brighter. She really did look gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back and tied behind her head, her sleek pony tail rested over one shoulder. And for the first time I noticed the demure set of pearl earrings in each ear.

She looked elegant and sweet. I loved conservatively dressed women—a woman who could look sexy without having to show too much skin. Perhaps that made me a little chauvinistic, but I wasn’t totally in to girls who were willing to just let everyone see everything.

Concentrate, Michael… It wasn’t really the time to be thinking about my growing attraction to the girl beside me. Instead, I needed to focus on the hearing.  

The car pulled to a stop and the chats grew louder and more passionate. There were gates enclosing the courthouse that allowed us to get in and out of the cars without any issues. I was thankful for that, it could have been a huge mob situation.

I had promised Malania’s parents that I would make sure everything was secure and that no one could harm her.

I was happy that the judge had banned all cameras from the courtroom and they were treating the case sensitively because of the involvement of a child.

“Here we go…” I murmured to Malania as someone opened a door for me. I slid out of the car and reached my hand in to help her out. I waited for her patiently as she subtly adjusted her dress. I grabbed Malania’s hand and made my way slowly to my parent’s car that had just pulled to a stop behind ours.

I waved and blew kisses to the fans who were chanting behind the gates, but mostly I told myself I needed to focus and not get caught up. I wanted the judge and the prosecution to realise that I was taking this seriously. I opened up the back door of the car for my Mom, letting go of Malania for the second.

My father was closest to the door and hopped out first. He helped my Mom out. Sometimes they acted like they disliked each other, that their marriage was just for show – but little instances where he still showed her chivalry; it allowed me to know that he still cared for her.

“Hi Joseph,” I greeted him. We were all supposed to meet at Neverland in the morning, but they’d been held up trying to escape the media back at Hayvenhurst. I knew Malania must have been freaking out by the idea of meeting my parents.

“Hello Michael, how are you?” he asked me, looking around at the crowd and giving a wave while my mother smiled at me in that warm, loving, piteous way that she always did.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Hi mother,” I smiled. She leaned in and hugged me tightly, almost squeezing the air out of me.

She went to say something, but Malania stood looking awkward and uncomfortable. “Mother, Joseph, this is my friend, Malania…”

“Hello,” my mother greeted her and took her hand in both of her own, “thank you for being here with us…”

“Of course,” Malania smiled. Joseph gave her the once over; nothing unusual but he was surprisingly nice to her. Generally, he didn’t regard the women that showed face in our family with much importance.

“Nice to meet you,” he shook her hand.

“You too,” Malania nodded.

Greg paced over to us and greeted my mother and father first and then Malania and I. I took her hand again and gave it a squeeze. “Come on guys, we better go in, apparently they are waiting on us.”

I tried not to drag my feet, but the clip-clop of Malania’s heels and the squeak of my own loafers on the wooded floorboards in the entrance of the courthouse just cemented the fact that we were stepping closer to my doom.

I realised that I was holding my breath as the security team scanned us all as we went inside. I was frightened of how normal it seemed inside. It didn’t seem like a fiery hell pit of doom, but all the public seating were filled by reporters and somehow a handful of fans that took up the back rows. I was surprised by that, but I was glad to have someone supporting me besides my closest family and friend.

The carpet an ugly green colour and all of the public seating reminded me of church pews which couldn’t have been comfortable. Greg whispered that he didn’t think the hearing would take more than 10 minutes.

My eyes were drawn to the floor as we headed up the middle of the aisle toward the defendants side. As we drew close to the front, I saw her. My stomach dropped almost in to my feet.

We met eyes for the tiniest, split of a second but she looked away first – guilt? Remorse? Sadness? I wasn’t sure, but there was something so heartbreaking about seeing her.

I felt Malania squeeze my hand again. Maybe she’d spied the interchange between us, I wasn’t sure. Either way, she was incredibly intuitive. She gripped my hand and held her other on my forearm as if she were trying to keep me upright.

Diana looked exactly like she always did, yet entirely changed. I knew everything was taking a toll on her too; it had to have been. I was disappointed that Casey was nowhere to be found. I had a stupid fantasy that she would glimpse me and come running out from her mother’s close watch. I would have swept her up in my arms and cuddled her close and apologised for being away for so long despite it not being my fault.

Diane would see our closeness and bond and realise she’d made a mistake, that the things she was alleging was nothing I was ever capable of and she’d drop the charges.

I felt myself get a little choked up.

We took our seats and the judge brought the courtroom to order.

Malania was seated right behind next to me and Greg sat on the other. My parents had seats behind me.

I was read my constitutional rights before anything began.

“You’re pleading ‘not guilty’,” Greg reminded me.

“Obviously,” I muttered.

“The four charges in the case of Jackson vs Hargrove are as follows;

1.    The sexual exploitation of a minor.
2. The transportation of a minor across state or international lines for immoral purposes.
3. Lewd and lavicious acts upon a child.
4. Wilful and unlawful lewd acts upon and with the body and certain parts of Jane Doe, a child of age 4 with the intent of gratifying the sexual desires of the defendant.”

I felt winded and disgusted. I could barely breathe. I knew Malania could tell because she put an arm around me and gave me a squeeze. I tried my very best to compose myself.

“Mr. Jackson, how do you plead to these charges?” the judge asked me.

Both Greg and I stood up. I was incredibly wobbly on my legs. “Not guilty.” I spoke in an almost inaudible voice in to the microphone. I could have broken down, I could have sobbed my innocence and begged and pleaded with them to believe me, but I had to be strong. I couldn’t let them get the best of me.

I did hear sobbing coming from Diane’s side, though. I could hear her crying and I felt awful but this was my life. I was sorry that she had it so wrong. I remembered back to when my instinct was to console her, but something had changed; my innate need to always be her comforter was gone. There had been too much distance, too much distrust…. Betrayal.

“To all charges?” the judge pressed.

“My client pleads not guilty to all charges, your honour,” Greg told the judge, realising I’d not listened to the question, too busy reeling in the grief that I was feeling.

“LIAR!” Diane yelled at me standing up aggressively, “you are a LIAR! I trusted you!” she screamed, the D.A held her back. The judge quickly tried to shut her down, hammering his gavel.

“I’m not lying,” I said quietly, I wasn’t sure if she could hear. I was shocked that she had lost her composure.

“I recommend that you control your client, Sheldon,” the judge told the prosecutor sternly, “lest she be held in contempt of court.”

Greg told me to sit and be quiet and not to speak another word.

I felt my eyes filling with tears as I sank in to the uncomfortable chair. I blinked them back bravely.

“Your honour, we have reason to believe that Jackson is a flight risk and would like to request that bail be refused.”

I looked to Greg in horror, I had no idea that going to jail would even be a possibility. “No!” I hissed at him. He held his hand up at me to calm me, but it angered me that I had been blind-sighted.

Greg stood up, “Your honor, because the charges were laid a little later than tradition, I would like to point out that if my client was a flight risk he would be well and truly gone by now. He has been incredibly cooperative with regards to this ongoing investigation. He has ties to the community, with family and with friends and has no plans on severing them.”

“Very well, bail is set at 4 million dollars,” said the judge.

I realised I’d been holding my breath. I finally let go of it and allowed myself to breathe. My heart beat so fast that I was afraid of passing out. I knew I was having an anxiety attack.

“Its okay, its okay, its okay…” Malania whispered to me over and over, realising that I was losing it, but partially I felt as though she was comforting herself.

She stroked my hand.

“Thank you, your honor.” Greg nodded. The D.A tried to argue but the judge shut him down.

“Mr Sheldon, I think the point was made that Mr. Jackson has been more than compliant and Mr. Pattoway has made a very good point, he will be trading in his passport and paying his bail. I think we can all feel safe.”

That was the end of it. A new court date was set, it wasn’t for another month and a half. I couldn’t wait to just get back in to that car.

We all walked out. I could hear Diane crying in to the shoulder of an older woman who glared at me with eyes like daggers as I walked down the aisle. I didn’t even look at her, but I could feel her.

“Stop crying, you’re making a scene and embarrassing yourself,” the lady told her firmly and instantly I knew it was her mother. I felt for Diane having to go back to that, but she had made her own bed.

I barely waved to the fans. I had no energy and where their chants had uplifted me earlier, it did nothing for me in that moment. I looked to Malania who had covered her eyes with a pair of sunglasses. I was glad for the two women on either side of me, holding on to my hands. They were both special and necessary in my life.

My Mom wanted to come to my place to talk, I wasn’t really up for it but I didn’t know how to say no. My Dad had to leave for Vegas; he was always in Vegas. They bickered about it for a moment until Mom asked if she could ride with us.

“Michael wants to be alone…” Joseph told her, “he got his girlfriend with him, he don’t need you breathing all down his neck.”

I hated that my father was right. I wanted to be alone with Malania. I didn’t want my Mom to see me cry.

“Malania is going home when we get back to Neverland,” I fibbed. She looked at me surprised but she didn’t say anything, “but if its okay, Joseph is right, I do want to be alone. I need some time…”

Mom looked disappointed but I couldn’t help it. “Michael,” she began, “I’m your mother, please don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not,” I promised, “I just need time to think, I promise I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

She grimaced but agreed. She and my Dad said goodbye to Malania and got in to their cars. Greg came by us to make sure we were okay.

“Michael, all that happened there was completely normal, they were never going to refuse your bail when you’ve been so cooperative.”

I just nodded even though I wasn’t sure if I believed him. “Thanks Greg, I’ll see you soon then?”

“Yep, Sharon and I are working around the clock for you. We’ll call you tomorrow. Go home and rest.” He turned to Malania, “make sure he rests.”

“I will,” she said in a soft voice.

We got in to the car and Greg waved us off. I felt relief. I immediately began loosening the tie from around my neck that felt like it was beginning to suffocate me.

The driver beeped his way through the crowd of people that were possibly more rabid than they had been when we arrived.

“I don’t want to ask the glaring obvious; are you alright?” Malania finally asked me.

“I want to be home.” I glanced at the driver who I wasn’t very familiar with. Carsen was ahead of us in another car leading the convoy.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she pressed.

“No…” I shook my head, “I’m not okay,” as I said it, my voice broke and I almost burst in to tears, but I held it together for the trip home. Malania understood. She didn’t say a word; instead she waited until we got back to Neverland.

“So, do you want me to tell my Dad to come get me? Or…?”

“What?” I was confused but suddenly remembered what I’d said to my Mom. “Oh,” I shook my head as I opened the front door and gestured for her to go inside first, “no, I just wasn’t in the mood for placating my Mom,” I admitted, “I just want to get in, get changed out of this stupid monkey suit and in to my pajamas and relax.”

Finally she smiled as I dropped keys on the table. “Not you though,” I managed to joke, “you should stay in that dress, you look really cute.”

I saw her blush. “Thanks, I think…”

“Of course… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I’ve had a lot on my mind today…”

She just nodded. We both got changed despite my joke. I kinda got that she didn’t care much for dressing up all crazy, she liked comfort which was fine because I did too, however it had been nice to see her all dressed up.

I’d wished it had been under different circumstances.

We met back in the living room and took a couch each and outstretched our bodies over them. We usually turned the TV on when we were hanging out, but neither of us made the move to do so.

“You know, to answer your question from this morning, yes, sometimes I do think about hurting those jerks…” I told her.

She seemed to like what she was hearing. “Yeah? What about that knuckle-head that hosts News File on NBC, he sounds like he just stepped out of a 1950s white supremacist movie…”

“Oh,” I scoffed, knowing exactly who she was talking about, “Jeffrey Macabee. Yeah, what a wang face.”

Malania laughed, “I saw him as we walked in to court, I wanted to punch him in the spine. I hate his face.”

I giggled, imaging that she had just the right amount of spunk in her personality to take matters in her own hands like that if she had been angered enough.

As if reading my thoughts, she continued, “Wanna know a secret that will probably make me sound like a psycho?”

She had my attention, “go on,” I prompted her.

“Once, about a year ago, another fan called Bronwyn, we were at a tour press conference and Macabee was there doing a live report – and he called you weird or something dumb, so when he walked by, I stuck my foot out, and he tripped over it in the middle of the live feed… Bronwyn was about three steps ahead so when he got his footing back, she did the same and he face-planted. We acted sincerely sorry and he had no idea it was on purpose, but it was all live… Bronwyn says she has a tape of it.”

I managed to laugh feeling a certain level of amusement and affection for her loyalty. “You guys were always so sweet, defending me even when it meant you could get in to trouble, that’s love.”

“You’re worth it,” she told me. I wasn’t totally convinced.

“You know,” I began thoughtfully, it had been playing on my mind and I wasn’t sure I could keep it to myself anymore, “hearing those charges was a giant reality check…”

I saw her rise up from her long mahogany sofa to see my face. She propped herself up on her elbow. “It was awful and unfair.”

“Its frightening how easy this can happen to a person. Basically, the accusation alone is apparently enough to make an arrest on someone, its crazy. I am not guilty, Malania, and do you know how much it kills me on the inside to have someone openly accuse me of not just hurting a child, but a child so young that they don’t even have a concept of what could be happening?”

I shook my head, “I just can’t seem get my head around how Diane could truly believe that of me.”

“I’m sorry, Michael…”

“Remember that night when we went to Pismo?” I reminded her, “and I told you that I had a secret as well?”

She thought for a few moments and nodded too. “Well, I’ve been debating whether or not to tell Greg and I want to tell you this,” I wasn’t sure why, maybe because I wanted her to know about my past, I didn’t want anything to pop up later and make her feel as though I’d kept important things from her.

“Diane and I…” I began, it was hard to say the words out loud. We never really talked about it after it happened, much less told anyone else, “we um… we had a child together.”

What!?” Malania’s mouth fell open. “Michael, oh my goodness,” then I could see her mind working, trying to figure it all out and piece it together, “who has the child, how come you’ve never told anyone?”

“Unfortunately Diane miscarried quite late in the pregnancy, it was a really awful time for us…” my voice trailed off. Even in that, I was too busy consoling Diane over the loss of our child that I never got the chance to grieve for myself.

“Oh god, that is so awful, Michael I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why I’m even telling you, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be silly, it doesn’t, I just … I guess I know how much children mean to you… it must have been so heartbreaking for you.”

It was. It was heartbreaking enough when I realised Diane wasn’t thrilled about the idea of being a Mom again, but when she miscarried, it was even more devastating – which of course she never picked up on. I was just stoic, Michael, there for the comfort.

“You know,” I began, sitting up, “I’m fucking angry, Lanz.” I felt something snap, “I gave her everything,” I told her, “I put everything out there for her. I was so patient, so caring, I am very aware that I have an issue feeling empathy for too many people, but while other people tell me I’m being walked over, I feel like I’d rather that than turn someone who genuinely needs my help away, that’s not what God would want…”

She watched me, sitting up too, a little startled by my sudden rage. “And that kid,” I told her, “Casey… I would have died for that little girl, I am telling you… I fucking loved her. And for whatever reason, I loved Diane. I wanted to marry her, I wanted to have children with her and she kept putting me off, she never returned those feelings, she just took and took and took and then she was actually angry about carrying my child.”

I was so mad.

Angry!” I shouted, getting up, pacing. “Holy shit…” I shook my head, “And then when we lost the baby, she was sad because she’d figured out, obviously, that we could use the baby for spare bits for her cancer ridden child… then three months later, the last time we fucking speak, she asks me to give her another baby, for spare parts….and I all but refused.”

I ran my hands through my hair, knowing I was just about to burst in to fits of angry tears. I could feel it, but I was so livid, “and then, as her last and final fuck you, she fucking accused me of raping her child. The only thing more important to me than Diane herself… Its not fair, I was a better father to that child than she could have ever dreamed me to be and this is how I get repaid…”

I fell back in to my sofa, “its just not fucking fair. I lost two children and managed to narrowly avoid jail… and then the realisation that this idiot did not care about me, not one little bit.”

Malania got up and sat beside me. “You have me, and you won’t lose me,” she murmured, “not for a single thing in the world…”

She put an arm around me and rested her head on my shoulder. Her softness and compassion was just what I needed to dissolve my anger to tears. I covered my face feeling a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.

“I don’t want to cry…” I admitted, trying to be brave.

“Its okay, Michael, you’re allowed to cry. You’ve had a fucked up day. A fucked up month and some, actually,” she corrected herself. There was something that made me happy about the fact that she was comfortable enough to swear in front of me, not pretending to be some kind of sweet angel.

Fortunately, that was all she needed to say before I began to sob. I wrapped my arms around her and held on to her for dear life, and sobbed my heart out while I let her hold me tight, stroke my hair and tell me that it was going to be alright.

And even if it wasn’t going to be alright, she made me feel like it was.

Chapter 28 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Please leave a review or a rating if you like this chapter :) Remember that I appreciate honesty and critisisms!

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 28

“Do you want something to eat? I could go and get something,” Malania offered kindly. She had been walking on eggshells all night since I’d fallen apart.

I glanced up at her in her pink and blue striped pyjamas and felt my affections growing. I shook my head. “Something to drink?”

“No thanks…” I murmured back.

She shifted down beside me and put her arms around me again and we stared at the blaring TV that served only as the background noise. I was pretty sure she was afraid that I’d begin sobbing again at any given moment. I wasn’t going to though; I was cried out now.

“Anything I can do?” she added as a last ditch effort to get me to communicate.

“No…” I replied, “what you’re doing now is perfect…” I added with honesty. Her affections were enough. Her sweetness and her compassion and her physical comfort were enough.

With a sigh I reached over and turned the television down as if I suddenly became aware of how loud it was. I’d spent the afternoon watching the news and the court footage. I tried only to focus on the positives of the afternoon; the fans, my friend and my parents. Oh, and the fact that I didn’t have to go to jail, crazy!

“You know, I really thought I might go to jail again…” I told Malania candidly, “I think that’s what broke the camel’s back today; I think that’s why I got so upset. I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“If you apologise one more time, I am going to give you a real reason to cry,” she gave me a threatening look that was able to make me laugh. Sometimes she came out with the most purposely insensitive things that were designed to be just so awful that it worked in getting me to crack up. It was always well-timed. I loved that about her.

She smiled too. She lifted her hand to my cheek, her hand was soft and a little cold. She drew my face closer to her and kissed my other cheek softly. I shivered and tried not to show just how much it affected me. “I love you, I don’t care about you crying.”

She’d told me she loved me before. I’d told her too, in the same kind of instances. Where we needed affection and reassurance, but there was some kind of spark beneath her words. I was almost shocked by the lingering, intimacy of the kiss. Perhaps it was because she had initiated it; or maybe because it was unexpected, I wasn’t sure, but it was welcome and it was nice and it warmed me from the inside out.

When she pulled away, I gave her a weak smile. It was a very weak smile; to match my weak knees, my weak arms and my weak hands that were tingling with shock.

“I really don’t think Greg would have let that happen to you, and you know they only suggested a revocation on your bail because they want to make an example of you,” she pointed out.

I nodded, “Yeah, what a headline, Michael Jackson goes to prison… it was bad enough having to sit in the holding cell while they arrested me at the beginning of all this.”

“Are you kidding?” Malania asked, shocked, “that happened?”

I scoffed, “Yeah… they put me in there and they taunted me. They put me in the dirtiest one,” I admitted, shaking my head as I remembered it. I remembered the nervousness, the humiliation, the teasing, the stale smell of urine that engulfed me and made it hard to concentrate on not heaving as a result of all the feelings combined.

“Did you tell anyone?” she asked, “like Greg?”

“What’s the point?” I asked her, “nothing changes, they’ll just say that I made it up, or that I shouldn’t expect any special treatment. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me…” she replied, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. I saw that she had tears in her eyes. Her compassion was sweet and welcomed.

“Oh well,” I shrugged. “You know what, I think I will eat something,” I told her, “but I really want to have a shower and scrub this entire day off of my skin… are you okay to hang out for a bit?”

She nodded. I excused myself to get up. I was itching beneath my skin and needed to just have a few moments reprieve to take stock of the whole day. I let myself in to my cluttered room and looked around. I undressed my way to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind me as usual. I was pretty messy.

I wanted to cut so badly. I wanted to push the razor in to my skin and drag until the little droplets of deep, red blood surfaced to my skin and brought me that engulfing, breath-taking relief.

I knew I could hardly blame Malania for her behaviours if I couldn’t control my own. And as far as I knew, she was upholding her end of the bargain so I needed to uphold mine too.

I got in to the shower and just let the water beat down over my face. I had been wearing make up and I knew I would get out looking like a clown, but I didn’t really care. If it were possible to drown, I would have began breathing under the water in hopes that the steady flow would wash me away, down the drain never to be seen again.

I felt my eyes filling up as I finally pulled myself out from directly under the gushing tap. I slipped my way down to the bottom of the shower recess and cried. I felt like a kid, tucked away in to a tiny ball of grief and hysterics and sobbed again.

I dealt with the anxiety as best as I could without medication. In a moment of frustration with myself and my poor choice of coping strategy, I had flushed every last pill down the toilet, but now I’d have given anything for something to help me go to sleep and block everything out again.

Diane’s eyes kept flashing in to my mind, the way she had looked as I entered the courtroom. She was scared; terrified even, of what might happen. I felt awful for her in my moment of weakness but my fury had been engaged when she had shouted at me, calling me a liar.

She knew me to be many, many things, but a liar I was not. I was a good friend to her, possibly even to a fault of my own as Liz had told me. My intention for Diane was always just to see her happy and my intention for Casey was always just to see her well and to see that little smile on her face not only when we spent time together, but always.

Everything was a mess.

The only light left in my life felt like the gorgeous girl that sat out on my couch who had been waiting on me hand and foot, trying her darnedest to make me feel better. It was almost too much, I had to get away because I couldn’t seem to discern emotions from affections. I didn’t want to do the wrong thing by her, keeping in mind her fragility.

It was almost hard to remember how life felt before I had this weight on my shoulders; this… cloud overhanging my existence, threatening to strike me with lightning at any given point.

Sometimes I wished it would just happen, or that I could help it along.

Slowly, I dragged myself off the ground and cleaned up my face the best that I could. I got out of the shower and covered myself in a towel. I dried off and cleaned the rest of the make up trails off.

I hated the way I looked without my tiny little bits of make up that seemed to even out my skin and the dark pencil beneath my eyes…. It just made me feel better about myself. I was pretty sure Malania hadn’t seen me without it, but I was past the point of trying to hide behind anything with her.

I pulled on some clothes and gave my hair a weak-towel dry. I pulled on fresh socks and some slippers and already began to feel a little fresher.

I didn’t want to make her wait around for me anymore or make her feel like she had to entertain me in my own house. I knew that would have brought her a level of discomfort.

I re-emerged from my room to find her watching the television. She glanced up briefly to notice that I was coming.

“Do you want to do something?” I asked her, “I don’t feel much like moping about.”

“What do you feel like doing?” she asked me, watching me head to the corner of the room to grab the phone that was sitting on marble pillar.

“I don’t know? Shopping? Girls like shopping don’t they? We could go shopping…or get some dinner, I don’t know… whatever, lets just not sit here moping about the joke of a legal system that’s responsible for my freedom.”

I picked up the phone before she could answer and dialled Carsen.

“Mr Jackson, how can I help you this evening?” he asked kindly.

“Ms. Malania and I were wondering if you could take us shopping and maybe to get something to eat afterwards depending on whether or not anything gets crazy.”

There was some hesitance on his end which I chose to ignore. Sometimes getting me out and about was seen upon as a chore for my employees, but they didn’t understand how it felt not to be afforded the same amount of freedom to do as I pleased. “Okay sure, where would you like to go?”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I looked to Malania, “hey where do we go to shop around here?” I asked her with a little smile, covering the receiver with my hand.

She looked clueless. “I’m not sure, Carsen, can we just drive and see what happens? Maybe the Beverly Center…”

“Okay Mr. Jackson when would you like me to arrive?” he pressed, always being about the business.

“Give us about half an hour, I suppose… Thanks Carsen, see you then.”

**

I held Malania’s hand in mine as we walked through the aisles together. Sometimes fame was a double-edged sword. It was after 6, the record store was closed but they made special concessions for me.

I managed a laugh when the store manager began to play Billie Jean, pumping up the volume. Malania and I shared a smirk, knowing that they were going much further beyond the need to impress us.

“What do you like to listen to?” I asked her as I flipped through some different music. “I mean, when you’re not busy listening to the greatest entertainer in the world…” I teased her.

She laughed, getting used to my subtle jokes and mock-ego.

“Is it lame if I say I like a bit of classical? Its probably the Asian in me.”

I gave her a funny look, “I don’t think that’s an Asian thing,” I told her, “I like classical too… What do you like? Yo-yo Ma?” I teased, fueling her Asian profiling.

She gave me a slap in the arm. I laughed and put an arm around her, feeling myself relaxing more. I was very aware of everyone’s eyes on me in the store. I had Carsen standing by the front door and I was sure the music shop owner had invited a few of their friends, but that was fine, I wasn’t too worried.

“I really like the Eurythmics and Fleetwood Mac…Stevie, Whitney Houston…” she listed off some musicians.

“I love Fleetwood Mac, they can’t keep a band together though…” I was able to chuckle, “I think Stevie Nicks just stormed out a couple weeks back…”

“Again?” Malania asked, laughing too, “Great band but awful chemistry… its like watching a soap opera.”

“How do you feel about Madonna?” I asked her curiously as I let go of her hand to flip through some music. She did the same.

“Indifferent. Just a bit of pop fluff and trying to ruffle some feathers,” she replied. I took a step closer to her, looking through for a Fleetwood Mac tape. I found a greatest hits one.

“Here,” I told her, holding it out to her, “my gift to you…” I smiled.

“No, don’t be silly… I can afford my own tapes.”

“Just shut up and accept my gift…” I insisted. I picked up a Prince tape, a couple of classical and jazz cds and waited patiently for Malania to finish.”

She had changed in to a pair of distressed blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. She had a lovely grunge look that managed to look so good on her despite the fact that it didn’t exactly fit her demeanour.

Since she’d been unwell, she’d been leaving her hair natural, no products so her hair sat dead straight, silky and smooth and perfect for running my fingers through it. Which, I took the prerogative to do as I stood beside her.

She seemed surprised at first to feel my hand on the back of her head, gently stroking her hair, but what was even more surprising was how she nestled closer beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder as she continued to leaf through the different bands.

It was a cosy moment between us that seemed to happen so organically and felt … right. It was unforced, natural and comfortable.

I glanced up to notice that the owner of the store was watching us. I let my hand fall from the back of her head, down her back until I rested it on the small of her back. “Okay…” she told me after a few moments, “I think I’m done here. Are you?”

“Yeah…” I replied absently, feeling caught up in the moment. A waft of her perfume seemed to intoxicate me for a second. “I’m finished here…” I added. We made our way to the counter, me, keeping an arm around her the entire way to the front of the store.

“Mr. Jackson you have some good taste in music,” the shopkeeper commented as she put our music in to some bags. I thanked her politely.

“Is this all we can help you with today?”

“Yes thank you,” I nodded, I turned to Malania, “what about you? Did you need anything else, Lanz?”

“No, I’m fine,” she smiled back at me and then to the shopkeeper.

They allowed us to go through the backdoor through the storeroom where Carsen had grabbed another driver to wait for us.

“That was fun…” I told her as we got in to the car. Malania looked at me, her eyes seemed to fall over my face before she smiled. I was pretty sure she understood that I meant our sharing of affection more so than the shopping trip.

“What now?” she asked.

“Dinner… I feel like a hamburger.”

She laughed, “I thought you were a vegetarian? That’s what all the magazines say…” she nudged me gently in the side.

“Don’t you nudge me!” I shoved her ever-so-gently. We shared a grin for a moment, “I’m not a vegetarian when hamburgers are involved.” I told her as if it were something romantic.

“A man after my own heart…” I was pretty sure she was flirting with me even if she wasn’t even aware of it herself.

“Carsen, we’d like to go to In-and-out burger…” I called to the front.

“No problems boss.”

**

“This is great…” Malania told me with a big smile. It was probably the happiest and most relaxed I’d ever seen her. I knew that seeing me relaxed allowed her to feel a bit better.

We sat across from one another in the corner of the the fast-food dining room. I had my back to the counters with Carsen and the new guy sitting close, but giving us our space.

It wasn’t particularly busy, but by the very grace of God I was thusfar unnoticed.

“I swear, this joint has the best burgers.”

She cracked up at my choice of words. I threw a quizzical look at her.

“Sorry, but you’re not the kind of guy that can pull off using the word, ‘joint’,” she informed me with her laughter infecting me as well. 

“Well, you know what I mean… don’t you think? Best of the fast food!”

“Its not awful, I’ll say that much…” she admitted, plopping a few fries in to her mouth.

I really liked that she wasn’t precious. I remembered the time I’d spent in the kitchen with Diane. Neither of us were cooks, but I spent a lot of time preparing salads for her. She lived on a diet of greens and salads; probably trying to healthy for the sake of her daughter, but never once did we eat something like this together.

“I love being out like this… where I can just watch people walk in and out and pass by me and not recognise me. It makes me feel so …” I searched for the right adjective, “light.”

“I can see it.” Malania agreed, “I bet it gets all stuffy being cooped up all the time and being bothered by everyone.”

“I know its love, I guess, but sometimes I just want to be alone you know?” I looked in to her brown eyes, “like now, I just want to spend time with you…”

“Me too…” she murmured. As if she became a little embarrassed, she lowered her eyes and fussed with her fries.

“Hey…” I began, I reached over and took her hand. It was a bit odd, in this public place, kind of making a move; salty-hand-to-salty-hand, but still felt strangely natural.

She looked at our hands first before she slowly drew her eyes up my chest until they met my own. “Hi…” she smiled.

And for the first time, Malania became shy. I would have laughed it weren’t so adorable. “I never said it properly today… but thank you for coming with me today. It really, honestly meant the world to me to have you by my side especially with everything that you’ve been going through.”

“It doesn’t matter what I’m going through, I’ll always be here for you… no questions.”

“I know… and you know I feel exactly the same…” I told her. “I’m glad your parents were being so understanding.”

“I don’t know what you said to my Dad, but you seemed to make a good impression on him… I think it changed his mind.”

Interrupting our cosy chat was someone from the window behind Malania’s booth spotting me. I saw the man’s eyes widen, I saw him looking around behind him, pointing at me and calling other people over.

“We gotta go. Grab your food to go.” I held open a bag, not wanting to rush her. Malania looked behind her and realised. She quickly wrapped it and put her fries back in the take away bag. Carsen had spotted the fellow before I did and had us up and heading out toward the car seamlessly within moments.

It was always such a relief to get away unscathed from a growing crowd.

“Well… that was close,” I remarked out loud, deciding I wasn’t going to let it bother me.

“I told you it was a bad idea, boss,” Carsen sighed.

I was momentarily irritated at being almost scolded by an employee. I remembered back to the night Larry told me off for not getting out of bed, swearing and cursing at me – I wouldn’t allow that in my life again, I didn’t give a damn how close I’d grown to them.

“Yeah, well… sometimes a guy’s gotta eat and its your job to deal with this if it happens on occasion,” I replied a little snappily.

“Yes Mr. Jackson,” he replied without another word.

Malania said nothing. We weren’t too far from my apartment and took a longer route to ensure we weren’t being followed.

Once inside we’d both grown a bit quiet again. Carsen helped me bring my bags inside and left to guard the front.  

“Do you wanna finish dinner? Probably cold though…” I remarked to Malania who shed her black jacket at the door. I took it for her and hang it up.

I put our things down and took a seat at the small dining table in the kitchen. “Do you want to heat your food?” I asked.

She nodded and sat down. I put our food down in the middle. I hovered over the oven for a moment and then looked over to her and smiled. “Umm… I don’t even know how this thing works…” I admitted, feeling a little bit embarrassed.

She rose an eyebrow that was both mocking and genuinely floored. “Are you kidding, Michael? You don’t know how to turn the oven on?”

I felt a little bad that I could manage to get through life without doing the basic things like; ironing, working the dishwasher…and turning on an oven.

“I know, it’s a miracle I haven’t died yet…” I joked.

I knew that she caught the somewhat sad smile on my face and she ignored my joke. “Don’t say things like that…” she scolded me. She came to my side and surveyed the oven for a moment.

“Okay… look here,” she took my arm and pulled me close down by the oven. “See this dial, it has to be turned to the option with the grill lines on either side of that cross… that will preheat it.”

“Okay…” I tried to concentrate but being that close to her again, all I could concentrate on was how good she smelled. I refocused, shaking my head of the wafting perfume.

“And then this is the heat, so whatever degree you want your food to be at, you turn it on to that… lets put the burgers in at like, 300, we only want to warm them... and when this little light turns red,” she pointed to a small unlit round light, “that’s when your oven is heated enough to put the food in…” she explained.

“Gotcha…” I nodded, standing up straight again from where we were crouched down beside each other.

“So now we wait for it to finish heating… really, you could have worked that out, Michael…”

“I know, but… people have always done things for me… and I guess its just been easier that way. And … so many people have walked. The other people? I just don’t really want to see or be around just in case they are thinking things about me…”

“I understand…” she said, staring at me, leaning against a countertop, “but honestly, and I don’t want this to sound a bit harsh, but this is why you need to know how to do things for yourself… No one could have pre-empted what’s happening to you now, but… my Dad always taught me that I should know how to take care of myself in case anything ever happened… how to pay bills, how to understand money, budget, do the laundry, cook for myself, clean up properly, you know…”

“We’ve both had different upbringings though- very different.”

“But we’ve still arrived at the same destination in life though, haven’t we?” she asked.

She had me there. “Just different vehicles…” she shrugged.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to teach me all that…” I murmured, taking a step closer to her. I knew she was wondering what was happening and I made each move less confidently than the last, afraid of the rejection or if it was the wrong thing to do, but I decided to go with my heart instead of always with my head.

She looked up at me with uncertainty and vulnerability. It almost made me take a step back if I hadn’t been sure that there was something inside her that held a candle for me too.

I took her waist in my hands and our conversation had been entirely silenced by my intensity.

I let my eyes wander over her smooth, pink lips that invited my own to join them. “Michael…” Malania whispered, “what’s happening?” she asked in a way that felt as though it was welcoming and wanted to be sure of her suspicions.

“I’m about to kiss you…” I told her bluntly as my eyes travelled back up to meet hers, giving her plenty of time to protest if she didn’t want me to. I felt her hands rest upon my upper arms, closing the space between us.

The tension had between us all day long, probably since we’d shared a bed. I wondered if it had been the right thing, to kiss her, to have feelings for her- I didn’t want to play games with her heart and I was still getting through my broken heart… but it was amazing how willingly and easy she made it for me to forget.

We were both damaged goods, both getting through our own demons, but together it felt like it was possible. Since she’d let her guard down with me, my feelings toward Diane had completely changed from piteous and concern to anger and along with that came the rose-coloured glasses I’d been wearing around the woman for the past 3 or so years.

I released all those thoughts from my mind as I leaned down and pressed my lips upon Malania’s. It wasn’t perfect. It felt strange and awkward, both of our lips were dry and unprepared for what was happening.

I gave a chuckle, relieving some tension from the air. We were both nervous. “Sorry…” she whispered as if it were her fault.

“Don’t apologise…” I smiled at her as I licked my lips and tried again. I tilted my head slightly, and drew her closer as my mouth covered hers gently and softly, parting her lips softly and just briefly gazing the tip of her tongue with mine before pulling away for a second and ending it with one more lingering kiss, just to be sure.

Oh, I was sure.

Her eyes slowly opened. She seemed a little woozy and her eyes said so many things. “Better?” I asked.

She nodded quickly, rendered speechless. A little bit of awkward tension filled the space between us again but I decided not to give in to it. “I guess I like you...”

“You guess?” she managed a little smirk.

I gave a shrug, “You’re alright, I could keep you, I suppose.”

My smile grew when I saw the offended look on her face. She slapped my arm. “What if I don’t want to keep you?”

“I’m worth a lot of money, it’d be one of your best investments yet… you’d only ever be getting a quarter on a trade in,” I joked.

She laughed and let go of my arms and slipped hers around me too. “I wanted to kiss you today too…” she admitted changing the subject, “when I saw you in that suit…”

I laughed a little embarrassed. “Thanks… I think…”

“You should wear suits more,” she advised me.

“I am afraid of coming on too strong,” I told her honestly, doing away with our tension relieving jokes and banter. “I’m really aware of what’s going on for you… and for me.”

She shrugged, “We don’t have to sit and talk about feelings and all of that, I don’t know if I’m equipped to do that right now.”

I took it as a sign that she wasn’t looking for me to get too intense with her. I was slightly disappointed, but I let it go. “Okay. Was it okay that I kissed you?” I asked, thinking maybe I had it wrong.

She smiled at me, the most dazzling, beautiful smile that I’d ever seen from her. The glow in her cheeks said it all. “Yes… that was definitely okay. If you wanted to do it again that would be okay too.”

I returned her grin and obliged her. After all, who was I to turn her down?  

Chapter 29 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

* Trigger warnings for this chapter. Suicide, self-injury, sexual abuse and ED themes. If you feel like you might be bothered by any of these things, please do not read this chapter.
** Thank you to all the new people reading and leaving reviews. I love receiving feed back, so please feel free to leave any critisisms or compliments. I am slowly getting thru posting chapters (I have completed around 44) and am updated them every few days, so if you would like to see certain things or feel like the story might benefit from something, let me know! I'm not easily offended :) 

Chapter 29

My hands tingled, my lips tingled, my shoulders tingled – it was the most surreal feeling that I wasn’t sure I could even handle it.

As a fan I always remembered having the fairytale fan love affair with the popstar subject, but I was always realistic about it. I didn’t truly feel like it would ever be possible for Michael and I to fall in love and get married as some fans did; in fact, becoming his friend was also out of the realm of possibility for me as a fan, I was always just happy to meet him and tell him how much I admired him.

Maybe that’s why we had arrived at this moment. I had no expectations. I didn’t try to deny myself the feelings that were growing for him, but I wasn’t even sure what on earth I was supposed to do with them anyway.

There had been a few indications that he may have had feelings too. I’d caught his eyes lingering over me on a few occasions. Sometimes he held my gaze longer than necessary and pulled his eyes away trying to hide a smile which at first made me self-conscious, but after time, I realised it was his secret thoughts about me, and it made me feel okay. Not only those things, but his touches had grown gentle, subtle and almost on occasion, intimate.

When we’d shared a bed and he had his arms around me while we watched TV, I knew he wanted that more than I did. I didn’t mind, I liked it, but there were a few clues during that night where I’d realised the friendship was beginning to change.

And then, the falling apart.

That wasn’t an indication of his feelings for me, but more so an indication that he was no longer keeping up walls that hinted that he trusted me with everything from that point forward.

After he’d recovered from his cry, I couldn’t help myself. I took his face in my hands and kissed him on his cheek. I knew it wasn’t the most intimate thing anyone had ever done, but for me, given my painful inexperience or painful experience, it was something.

And from there, it was almost as though it had been a green light for him. Through our evening he’d held my hand, but it felt more romantic than just chivalry this time; he kept finding reasons to put his hand to my waist, or draw his fingers absently through my hair that sent me reeling in to a state of mental disarray, not in a bad way though… Just as though someone had pulled all of the files out of a folder and strewn them around and confused them. Frightening at first, but then refreshing and ready for a new shuffle.

We tried to be normal after the kiss had subsided. We meandered about, I showed him how to use his oven, I warmed our burgers and together we ate what was left of our dinner.

“So, given that your Mama spends all her time cooking amazing things, can you cook?” he asked me. I wondered if he wanted a traditional woman. I was not one by traditional standards, but I wasn’t hopeless. Despite my comfort in jeans and tshirts and deep-seeded love of pajama pants, I knew how to be a woman when it counted.

Well, hopefully. I desperately didn’t want to let him down.

“I can cook. I can’t cook like my Mama, but that’s how I spent my childhood, really, cooking with her and her mother as well. “Plus, since I am the last of the kids to be living at home, when Mama would sometimes go away with my Dad, I could fend for myself.”

“Could you teach me to cook?” he asked, “just the basic stuff, you know, in case I ever need to fend for myself.”

I smiled at him as we sat across from one another. “Michael, the sooner you learn to live a little more independently, the happier you’ll feel, I bet. Cooking is fun, it can be super relaxing.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“If you choose something that you want to make, we’ll make it together next time I visit.” I promised him.

He grinned, “anything? What if I chose something that is too difficult?”

I shook my head, he was being a bit smart. I could tell by the playful grin and the way it seemed to show in his eyes. “Well then if I can’t cook it, I’ll admit to you that I’m a failure in the kitchen just as you are.” I poked my tongue out.

He chuckled and reached over and ran his hand along my arm, “I’m just razzing you up.”

“Razzing?” I laughed, “good God, Michael, sometimes you sound like you were born in the 20s.”

He laughed again as he finished off his burger and dusted his hands off on to his plate. I was almost done too. He got up to get us a drink. I think he wanted a second to think as well. The awkwardness that followed our kisses had been a bit uncomfortable, but both of us managed to go on, fetching our food and eating together.

I wasn’t sure where it all stood. I told him immediately that I didn’t need to have a chat about feelings, but perhaps that was my own discomfort with communicating that was surfacing.

“Michael?” I called out.

“Yeah?”

He came to sit with me, bringing me a drink of juice. “I can’t stand this elephant in the room.”

I was sure I saw his face flush. “Me either… I guess I just am trying to respect your wishes and not discuss emotions and what-not. You said you weren’t sure if you could deal with it and I don’t want to mess with your head or anything.”

He looked in to my eyes and waited for me to say something expectantly. “Who am I kidding? My head is already messed,” I joked weakly.

“Don’t say that… you have things going on and so do I, but we’re not incapable of being adults and thinking straight. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t believe that.”

His hand closed around mine and gave it a little squeeze.

“I don’t want to be one of those girls who places a thousand expectations upon a single kiss.”

“To be fair,” Michael challenged me, “I kissed you like, what? Four times, I think… so…”

I cocked my head and smiled.

“Sorry,” he apologised, “I guess its fair to want to know why I kissed you or where my head is at…”

“Don’t get me wrong,” I told him, “I liked it, I am glad it happened,” I told him, knowing that my own cheeks were getting read with his growing smile. I tried to press on anyway, “I guess that I am concerned when I know how you felt about Diane and in reality, she walked away from that relationship only a month and a half ago. I don’t want to be your band-aid.”

His face turned very serious. I knew he had probably already thought over that. “Well, yes… but I suppose being really distanced from that relationship allowed me to see everything that it wasn’t. And in turn, it allows me to see everything that I have with you.”

“And what’s that? Don’t worry,” I clarified, “I just want to know where you’re at so I don’t have to stress about it.”

“I’m at the point where I realised that I have feelings for you. I want to keep getting to know you and I don’t have any expectations from you. Above all, I want you to feel safe with me and hopefully we’ll keep growing closer.”

He said it all as though he’d thought about it and knowing Michael, he probably had. He was so sweet and wonderful and it was relieving to hear that he didn’t want a clear-cut relationship from me. I wasn’t sure if I was able to provide it.

“Okay…” I nodded.

“Is that what you want too?” he asked, as if he were unsure if I agreed or that I might have other feelings.

I nodded again and brushed some of my hair out of my face a little self-consciously. “I guess that this is all foreign to me and even speaking to you this frankly feels … strange.”

“It shouldn’t, or at least… I don’t want it to always feel that way,” he replied.

I briefly eyed him before looking away again. His eyes were so powerful and managed to unnerve me sometimes, especially when I was trying so hard to share my heart. “I’ve never had someone interested in me before…” I smiled bashfully.

He chuckled, “Well, that’s crazy… and I bet its entirely not true. I bet that friend of yours, Peter, that you made me pretend I was, I bet he liked you – and what about that waiter the other week?” he pointed out.

My cheeks flushed. I’d forgotten about the waiter who ignored Michael to speak to me only in Japanese. “Well, I think Peter was gay, but I can’t be sure… The waiter was an idiot.”

“Malania, you are really special, you do realise that, right?” he said as if it were something that I’d been often told throughout my life. His words almost brought tears to my eyes the moment he’d let them escape his mouth.

“Thanks…” I murmured.

“I’m not stating a fact,” he corrected me, “I’m asking you a question. You realise that you are incredibly special, right? That you are a beautiful person, you’ve gotta know that.”

I let a weak smile surface upon my lips that would trick my eyes in to leaving the tears where they belonged. “Stop it…” I told him with a little laugh.

He shook his head, “I’m serious.”

I never said a word in response. Instead I looked at his hand that was still covering mine.

“Well,” he started as if I’d said something, “if you don’t know that, then you can count on me to help you realise that its true.”

I wanted to tell him to shut up because he made my insides turn to liquid. He made me want to run away from him and run at him all at the same time. My heart wanted me to stay and my head wanted me to get the hell out of there.

Instead I rose up from the chair and took my plate to the sink. He didn’t seem irritated by my inability to respond to him, he just cleared the table with me.

We retired to the living room and sat a little uncomfortably beside one another. I could tell that he really wanted me to relax, but it was difficult. I didn’t know how to act around him anymore. I sat on one side of the couch with my hands folded in my lap and tried to focus on the TV rather than my feelings and how immature I felt to not be able to approach any of it in a more adult way.

“Hey…” Michael began after a short while of probably also trying to pretend everything was normal and cool.

I looked over to him and saw a sweet smile upon his lips. “Yeah?”

“I kinda feel bad,” he started, “I feel like I spooked you and made you feel uncomfortable around me and that’s the last thing I wanted.”

I didn’t know how to explain what I felt. How was I supposed to move on from the kiss? Was I supposed to act like it never happened and let him make the next move? Or … was I supposed to suddenly start acting affectionately, hugging him, cuddling up to him – I wasn’t sure what he wanted and I wasn’t sure how to really approach him about it.

“I feel like an idiot,” I was able to chuckle, “I’m embarrassed cos I don’t know how to act now…”

He didn’t patronise me or make me feel tiny, he just thoughtfully nodded toward him, gesturing me to get close. “Come over here… don’t get all shy on me now, we just got over that…”

I laughed, still feeling a bit bashful and regardless of his kindness and patience with me—embarrassed.

I scooted a bit closer to him. He shuffled over a bit too and put an arm around me. “This is the next step, I guess… step 2, get comfortable, relax, hang out… all good.”

I did manage to relax. “Thanks Michael…” I murmured, “for not thinking I’m a complete loser…”

He reached over and touched my face. My instinct was to flinch away from him, but he was always so soft and light in his touch when it came to me. “You’re not a loser. You are wonderful…” I clung to his every word. He leaned in and kissed my lips again. I almost reached up to touch them the second he broke away.

“So are you…” I murmured.

He just smiled and drew me closer to him so that my body closed the distance between us. He embraced me and refocused back on the TV. I did the same, feeling myself very slowly but surely lose the tension.

**

I was feeling much more at ease as we watched a movie together. About halfway through his phone rang. “Odd…” he remarked, “Only three people know I’m here…”

I lifted myself off of his shoulder so he could get up and answer the telephone. “Maybe its your Mom or Liz,” I suggested.

“Yeah… maybe,” he picked up the phone and used a strange voice that I’d not heard him use before, a disguise. It sounded incredibly unlike him that it almost made me laugh.

“Hello?”

There was some silence, “Ok, yeah that’s fine… now?” More silence, “Oh okay. Yeah, that’s fine, I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and looked to me, “sweetheart, I’m sorry but Greg and Sharon want to come around to talk about how things went today.”

“That’s fine,” I smiled, trying to hide my disappointment that we were going to have an entirely stress-free night. “Its kind of late though…” I remarked.

“I know, that’s what I thought…” he edged his way toward me, plonking down again. He took my hand and laced his fingers through mine, “I hope nothing’s gone wrong.”

“Try not to be too negative,” I told him, “when they arrive I’ll just head to bed and give you some space.”

“No.” he shook his head, “no, well, not unless you really are tired, but it’ll be nice for you to be with me.”

“Okay…” I agreed, “I’ll be here to hold your hand like I promised.” He turned his body toward me and looked me in the eyes. I knew they were the words that he wanted to hear. He smiled and reached up with his free hand to smooth my cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine for a third time.

So far the kisses had been polite. Lingering, but polite. I didn’t mind, I was just getting used to knowing he truly had feelings for me.

“Thank you…” he murmured.

We both decided it would be a good idea to get changed in to something that wasn’t pyjamas.

**

Greg and Sharon arrived both quicker than we expected. Greg was surprised to see me there, but never-the-less, he was polite and kind. Sharon was a bit more blunt with us both. She wanted to sit down and get to business whereas Greg was kind and friendly and treated Michael like a doctor with impeccable bedside manner. I felt like that was important, given his state of mind.

“Can I get anyone anything?” I asked politely. Michael looked up from his spot at the dining table. I knew he appreciated me asking because he had also admitted he had no idea how to even make a coffee.

“Coffee would be great thank you, Malania.” Greg smiled.

“My pleasure. Sharon?” I asked her, she briefly looked up at me and shook her head. “Michael, do you want something?”

“Maybe water… thanks sweetheart.”

I just flashed him a smile and got a coffee for both Greg and I, and gave Michael his water.

Michael pulled a chair out beside him for me to sit in. I sank down beside him and took a sip of my coffee.

“How do you think things went today?” Greg asked, getting the conversation started.

Michael shrugged. “I was angry that you kept the possibility of going to jail from me.”

“They weren’t going to send you to jail, Michael, I was positive of that. I didn’t want you to be concerned.”

“Still,” he said firmly, “I didn’t like being blindsighted, please don’t filter out information. I know you’ve seen me lose my mind, Greg, I know you’re trying to protect me, but I can handle it.”

I wondered what had happened, but I didn’t say anything.

Greg accepted that. “So, I think the thing to do now is to go over your relationship with Diane, now if any part of that is confidential, it might be wise to discuss it in confidence.”

I knew what they were getting at. Basically, I needed to leave.

“No,” Michael interjected, “Malania knows it already. There are no secrets…” he added. “What do we need to go over.”

“We know how you met, but we obviously need to talk more about the nature of the relationship,” Sharon cut in. I got that Greg was the one who did most of the talking, but she was pretty set on getting her answers.

“Okay.” Michael nodded, glancing to her. I could tell he didn’t like her. I wasn’t a huge fan either, just by my gut instinct. “Well, I informed Greg a couple weeks ago that Diane and I were living in a defacto relationsh-,” he began, explaining.

“At what point after meeting Diane did the relationship turn romantic?” she asked cutting him off and not even looking at him.

“Actually this is kind of confidential, can you please leave us with it,” he asked rather pointedly. At first Sharon thought Michael was talking to me given that she hadn’t even glanced up at us, but after a few moments of silence she saw the two of us staring at her expectantly.

“Michael, Sharon is on our side.”

 

“I get that, but I’d feel more comfortable if it were just you.” He turned to Sharon and flashed her an almost smug smile, “no offense.”

Without a word, she got up out of the chair. “I’ll let myself out. Greg, call me later.”

The was an air of awkwardness and I was pretty sure Greg was a bit pissed off both with Michael and his assistant. “I don’t want her in my home again,” Michael spoke up in a kind of quiet yet demanding tone. As polite as he remained, it was clear he meant his words and he wasn’t to be argued with.

“Michael, I am aware you and Sharon aren’t huge fans of one another, but she is very good at what she does.”

“I don’t want someone to represent me because they are good at what they do, Greg, I want someone to represent me because they believe in me. I don’t like the way she makes me feel, she makes me feel like she is silently judging me, I won’t have that, not in my own home.”

Greg left it alone. “Point taken. Lets get on with this, I don’t want to keep you both up all night.”

Michael calmed down and began to explain his relationship with Diane from the start to finish. Greg had him speak in to a Dictaphone as he took notes. I said nothing. I sat by and listened feeling a little out of place.

“What role did you take in Casey’s life?” Greg asked him.

Michael’s eyes wandered over the kitchen table and in to his own hands before he answered. “A fatherly one. It wasn’t like that at first, at first it was just like, a child that I was helping, but she and I built a rapport really quickly… She kept asking for me, so I kept turning up. She was so sweet and I couldn’t bear to say no to her, especially given how ill she was.”

I knew he was being honest. “When my relationship with Diane grew, my relationship with Casey grew and vice-versa.”

“Its noted by Diane that Casey often called you Daddy and you didn’t stop her despite Diane asking you to…” Greg remarked.

Michael rose an eyebrow and glanced at me. “That’s untrue. Casey called me Daddy, sure, every now and then, I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings or allow her to feel rejection. At the same time, I didn’t want to confuse things given that I was unsure what the nature of my relationship with Diane was. So, Diane and I discussed it and we both decided that we would just correct her. Whenever she called me Daddy after that discussion, I told her that I was Michael. I can’t think of a single time where she called me Daddy without me correcting her.”

“Diane said that besides you, there were really no other men about, however, Michael, we both know that within your lifestyle there are lots of other people around you. Can you list off any other males that you know of who worked for you during that time period of Casey being in your life, probably within the past year,” Greg was writing notes as Michael answered.

Michael thought hard, he was frowning and concentrating and seemed almost frustrated. “Greg, I don’t really wish to start pointing fingers at other people who worked for me, that’s not who I am. Everyone has the right to be innocent until proven otherwise, not the other way around.”

“No one is pointing fingers, Michael.” Greg stopped and looked him in the eye. “We just need to cover all bases. We know that Casey was harmed and we know that it wasn’t you. Now we need to investigate it a little further to create reasonable doubt.”

“Okay,” he agreed. He looked at me for help, “if you can think of people too…” he asked me, “I’m a little bit bad with names sometimes…”

“Okay,” I nodded. “Firstly I had Bob Henderson, Corey Blacksmith and another guy, I don’t remember his name he wasn’t with us for long…we used to nickname him Stretch—“ Michael looked to me, “do you remember?”

“Seth… the tall guy, right?” I asked, remembering a tall, blonde white guy that we used to joke wouldn’t be able to protect anyone.

“Yeah, I don’t remember his last name. Thanks…” he smiled at me, “They were personal security for the tour… they walked when the accusations came through.”

I imagined what an awful situation that might have been, to have people just walk away from your life without word or warning for something that you weren’t even guilty of.

“Let me see, management was Larry Berkowitz, Mike Whalen and my personal assistant was Franco Larsen. Besides that, I guess people came and went…”

They discussed each man individually as I began to grow a little bit tired. I faded in and out.

“Greg, I keep hearing the news talking about how others are coming forward – is that true?”

“No one has come forward that needs to be taken seriously, Michael,” he said honestly, “in high-profiled cases, there’s are always grifters that come along trying to take advantage, but they quickly get put to bed, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“I told you that it was better not to watch the news anyway, its all sensationalised…” my voice trailed off. He was hot and cold with the TV, some days I couldn’t get him away from what the news channels were saying, and other days he seemed to get anxiety from having it on.

“I know,” he said with a sigh, “but sometimes it’s the only way I can find out info, I feel like no one is telling me anything.”

“I guess I have been acting as a filter for you, Michael, but only because I want to try to tell you the facts rather than the BS. In these cases there are a lots of crap-talking to try to get you scared in the hopes that you’ll admit guilt.”

“Well stop it,” he said sharply, “just tell me, Greg, I want you to be honest with what’s being said… I am sure what my imagination conjures up is probably a thousand times worse than what the actual facts are,” he told him, a little bit worked up.

Admittedly, I was much less focused on the conversation than what I was on Michael’s face. I almost smiled. I knew how down on himself he was, but good God, he was beautiful to look at. His skin was soft and clean with the very faint traces of facial hair. He had admitted he wasn’t very good at growing a beard or a moustache which was fine by me.

His hair was tied back as it was most days, it was starting to get some real length to it. And his eyes, I felt like I could just drown in them. There was something so real, genuine and hypnotic about his eyes that disarmed me every time I looked in to them. It had always been that way from the very first time I had met him. He was very-much the kind of person who demanded eye contact. It used to make me feel nervous and intimidated, but now that I truly knew him, it just made my heart flutter.

I remembered how giddy he used to make me each time I saw him as a fan; how Beth and I would giggle over how in love we were with him, but this was different. I knew him for the man he was rather than our fan-perception of him, and I really was falling in love with him. It was confusing and scary and wonderful all at the same time, especially when the man that I was falling in love with was possibly facing jail.

“Diane has made claims that you often encouraged her to go out alone so you could be alone with Casey. You gave her a credit card to go shopping or persuade her to go out with friends and you’d spend the day with Casey.”

Michael looked incredulous, “what!?” his mouth fell open. He gave a laugh of disbelief, “Of course I did. She wasn’t coping, she was falling apart at the seams and half of the time she had no patience for the Casey when she was well. She was just….” He shook his head, “she was burned out; that’s what she was. I was just trying to give her some freaking reprieve.”

Greg continued to jot some notes down. Michael looked at me, as if encouraging me to be as upset about the claim as he was, but I was unsurprised.

“Jeez…” he muttered, “I can’t believe that…”

“Michael,” Greg began, ignoring his frustration, “did Diane ever ask you for money?”

He shook his head, “No, she was actually quite proud in that respect. She hated it when I paid for stuff. I usually had to argue and insist it was for Casey.”

“What about jealousy, did she suffer jealousy?”

“No, never.”

“That’s not true,” I interjected. I couldn’t help myself. Michael looked at me quizzically. “Sorry,” I apologised, “but that’s not actually true,” I cleared my throat, “I believe she was quite jealous of others.”

Greg gave me the same look as Michael. I could tell he wasn’t aware of what my role was in Michael’s life.

“How do you know?”

“I remember specifically when I spoke to you a couple times, she booed and hissed and eventually told us that you didn’t have time for us and that you had to go… the second you spent any time with any female fans, she started tantruming and getting upset with you, surely you realised that… that’s why you always cut things short with us.”

Greg was still confused. I didn’t feel like belittling my place in Michael’s life, so I figured I’d let Michael explain later if he felt like it was necessary.

He thought for a moment over my words before he shrugged, “I guess that’s true, I never really thought about it as jealousy though. She did get upset when I wanted to see fans or invite fans up to my room to hang out, she would say it wasn’t safe for me to do that, or that I was too nice…”

“That’s rich coming from someone who was living comfortably in your house…” I sniped.

“Well,” Greg cut us off, probably concerned we’d end up in a bickering match, “the reason why I ask, is because Diane alleges that you frequently had close relationships with fans, younger women, possibly under-aged, and that her suspicions were confirmed when she saw you with Malania…” Greg nodded to me.

I sucked head back with disgust as if the words had angered me, “See?” I rose an eyebrow at Michael, “ridiculously jealous.”

“Malania, can I ask how old you are?” Greg asked me point-blank.

Michael and I both laughed. It certainly wasn’t because we found the whole thing wildly hilarious. “I’m 22,” I answered with my arms folded defensively across my chest. “I’ve been a fan of Michael’s for a long time, but I never met him til I was around 19, and we certainly were never sleeping together… God, I was lucky to get three minutes of his time…”

“What an…. Idiot…” Michael breathed. “You know, once she accused me of having an affair with a fan, it wasn’t Malania, but it was another girl I knew. The girl was sweet, she was Belgian girl. She had some gifts for me and I invited her in along with Larry one day to deliver them to me because she had been waiting for about 12 hours outside the hotel…” he explained, “she was gorgeous, really, she had an angel face, but she was only about 14 or so, I certainly wasn’t interested in her romantically.”

“So what made Diane think you were having an affair?”

“I don’t know, we were sitting on a couch, opposing each other, at least a meter or so between us and Diane walked in, saw us talking, became furious, said nothing to me and went in to a room and slammed a couple of doors. I didn’t realise she was mad at me, I figured she might have had some bad news… when Larry took the girl to leave, the accusations went flying until she realised how young the girl was and calmed down…”

I was satisfied that Michael was slowly beginning to connect the dots.

“She thinks she may have heard some rumours within your camp about you with kids…” Greg was really being blunt with Michael now. He had asked for it, but I wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for it.

Michael shrugged, “Its bullshit,” he said simply, “if she heard rumours then great, I’d love to hear them, I’d love her to try to find someone to validate them, because its news to me….I did nothing wrong.

“We’re not disputing that, we’re trying to find holes in the case,” Greg replied. “So already we have gathered that she was prone to throwing tantrums if she didn’t get her own way. She was insecure or critically jealous of you showing attention to other girls, she is now currently dissecting every tiny thing that you ever said or did to try to make some sense of what’s happened…”

“Its all just a little hard to swallow, Greg…” Michael admitted, “I mean, I used to cry for her situation, I used to cry for that child. I still do. I feel for Casey, I feel angry that she’s the one who’s the real victim here. Her mother isn’t doing her any favours…” he laughed again. I remembered the shrink telling me how closely linked laughter and tears were; the same part of the brain controlling them, I knew Michael’s laughter was to cover the sobs he wanted to let out. “Shit, you know what, I even wrote a song for Case that I was going to put on my next album…”

I couldn’t help myself. I felt awful for him. I slid my hand in to his. At first he tried to let go, I thought he may have been a little self-conscious, but then he reached for it again and engulfed it within his own. Greg seemed to find some compassion and looked at him empathetically.

“What was it, Michael, what was it about Casey that made you want to drop everything for her?”

Slowly the tears welled in Michael’s eyes. He shrugged despite the tears streaking down his cheeks. Greg turned off the recorder. “Off the record,” he added, “I guess, I want to understand so that I can represent you better.”

Michael wiped his eyes with his palm. His eyes were lowered to the oak of the table. “When I met Casey,” he started slowly, “I wanted to die…” I felt my body tense upon the realisation that I actually never knew the true reason why Casey meant so much to him. I’d been given some watered down version when I’d asked him and never pressed him for details since. He brushed more tears away and I was aware of how seriously he meant the words. “I mean it, Greg…” he sounded emotional and his voice cracked slightly, “I had even planned my own suicide out… and I met Casey and she changed me and she changed my heart… She laying there fighting for her life and I was ready to throw it away… She truly saved me.”

I was pretty sure Greg was as shocked by his admissions as I was. I never knew it had been that serious. I knew Michael had suffered fleeting suicidal thoughts, but I never, truly believed that it moved too far past self-harm, but I was floored by it.

“Its just unfair that my whole heart has always been in that little girl’s hands from the day that I met her and vice-versa, and someone has come along and turned it in to something so… fucking disgusting,” he spat the words out as if they tasted bad, “when all I ever wanted to do was to help.”

I was crying too. I couldn’t help it; Michael had that effect. It pained me to see him emotional and full of grief over what this idiot was putting him through.

“Well, I’m truly sorry that this is happening, Michael,” Greg said sincerely, “and I am certain we’ll be able to clear your name. I’ll make it happen.”

“Please don’t repeat anything I’ve mentioned,” he said firmly, sniffing and wiping his face free of tears, “I can’t afford my mother finding that out…”

“What did you mention?” Greg asked with a little smile.

Michael managed a weak one in return. “Thanks, Greg… I believe in you, I hope you can help me and I hope Casey will be okay.”

We wrapped things up shortly after and both saw Greg out.

Back inside, things grew a little awkward. “I guess I’ll go to bed,” I announced. Michael had made sure there was a night lamp in the room I was staying in.

“Malania…” he sighed, “I don’t want to let go of Casey…”

I felt for him. “Come here, Michael…” I held my hand out as he drew closer to me. I didn’t know what to say to comfort him, so I slid my arms around his thin waist and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around me too and rested his head on my shoulder. I felt him heave a heavy-hearted sigh.

“She’s still a baby, Michael,” I murmured, “she will grow up and forget about you, I know that sounds horrible, but its true, she might miss you and feel sad about you right now, but eventually you’ll be a tiny distant memory and she’ll know about you only from what people tell her, either way her life will go on, and yours will too…”

“I feel like I’m losing my child all over again.”

It occurred to me that Michael had probably never had the chance to grieve for the loss of his baby because he was too busy protecting everyone else.

I kissed his neck and gave him a squeeze. “I’m sorry…”

We stood there in an embrace for a few moments until he composed himself and released me.

“Come on,” I slipped my hand in to his, “lets go and lay on the couch and watch TV, I don’t think you should be alone…”

He didn’t bother arguing.

Chapter 30 by SkyWriter

Chapter 30

I hadn’t been able to sleep at all. Instead, I watched Malania sleep and I watched the TV. I glanced out the window and knew that the sun would be rising soon enough. I felt melancholy and sad knowing that after Carsen and I dropped Malania back to her home, I probably wouldn’t see her for a little while given how protective her parents had become. Plus, a spot had opened up for her at the new treatment facility. That was going to be hard too. The first week was going to be without phone privileges so as not to disturb an intense therapy period.

It was selfish of me, but I really didn’t know how I’d cope without her around me. I wasn’t used to going a single day without speaking with her.

She looked peaceful laying up the other end of the couch with her legs resting on my lap. I tried not to fidget around too much as I rested my hands on her ankles and closed my eyes despite it being entirely useless.

I felt anxious over her feelings for me. I knew she liked me, I knew there was a spark between us, but I felt her almost freeze each time I kissed her. I’d hoped that if I persevered she would relax a little. I did consider fleetingly that I’d made a mistake in kissing her, that maybe she wasn’t ready for any of what I had to offer or that maybe my life was too tumultuous to involve her given what she was going through.

Instead, I decided to leave it in the hands of the heavens and like I used to do for Casey, I prayed for Malania. My resolve was that if it was meant to be, it would be and if it was meant that we remained as platonic, affectionate friends, we would.

I wanted to do something special for her though so that she could hold on to the thought of a more happier and enjoyable version of myself while she was settling in to her new treatment centre.

“Malania…” I whispered, “Malania…” I laid my hand upon her knee and gave her a gentle shake.

Her eyes opened as she looked around a little confused. My breath caught in my throat when the look on her face entirely changed as her eyes swept the room until they found me.

Nope, I didn’t regret any single one of those kisses for a moment.

“I must have fallen asleep…”

I just chuckled. She eased herself up. “What’s the time?”

“Its almost 5am. I wanted to show you something,” I began.

“What?” she asked, seeming groggy and still a little lethargic from her slumbers.

“Well, I’ll give you a minute to wake up…” I suggested, “just wait here a second.”

I went to my room and grabbed a sweatshirt and grabbed one for her as well. When I came back to the living room, she was resting her head lucidly against the couch, staring blankly at nothing.

“Here, put this one on…” I handed her the sweater. She did as she was told. Once I had mine on, I helped her up and took her upstairs with me. “It might be cold, so let me know, okay?”

She was a bit sluggish but soon perked up. I showed her out to the balcony that extended from my bedroom. “Here… do you think you can get up there?” there was a ladder that led to a tiny little rooftop ledge with a small cast iron guard around it. It was purely man-made.

It was a little bit dark but I knew my way around up there without any issues.

“What?” she asked in shock at my request, “you want me to climb up on your roof? I can’t!”

“Yes you can, its great up there, trust me…”

“Michael, I really don’t think I can…” she insisted, grabbing on to the metal ladder as if she were testing its sturdiness. She let go and turned to face me, her hair blowing lightly in the cool, soft morning breeze.

I stood over her, a little taller than her. I placed my hands on the ladder just above her shoulders and leaned in. “Come on, I really want to show you something very cool. Would I ever ask you to do something that I think would put you in danger?”

Her lips curled in to the makings of a shy smile as the distance between closed a little. “I don’t know?”

“The answer is no,” I corrected her, “No, Michael, you would never put me in danger, you care about me far too much,” I coached her, trying to be light-hearted.

“No, Michael, you would never put me in danger, you care about me far too much,” she repeated, staring in to my eyes.

“That’s better…” I said almost in a whisper as I let my hands brush against her cheek, “now, will you trust me?”

“I always trust you,” she said simply and I knew it was true. I was the holder of one of her darkest secrets as she was of mine too.

“So get your booty up the ladder. I’ll be right behind you, to make sure you don’t plummet down in a heap…”

She laughed. I stepped back and let her have a go at getting up the ladder. She did so gingerly and stopped around half way to look back down to make sure I was behind her.

“Nice view…” I joked flirtatiously.

She scoffed in shock, “Michael, this is probably not my best angle.”

“I disagree, its kinda… up there as one of my favourites…” I teased her knowing that I was making her blush without having to even see her face.  

“You…” she tried to mock-upset with me but I could tell she enjoyed my silliness.

“Me…” I repeated with the same giddy sigh as I began my way up the ladder. I could hear her oohing and aaahing as I got to the landing and found her sitting with her legs folded on the ledge. I eased back on to it and smiled at her.

“How great is it up here?”

“It is great,” she agreed, looking out over the view of the lights over all the rolling hills around us.

I pointed in the distance as I got comfortable beside her, “I wanted to watch the sunrise with you… I know that’s a bit corny, but… this is my most favourite part of the day lately…”

“Its not corny,” she replied, “I’ve never watched a sunrise…” she admitted.

I almost gasped in shock, “Are you kidding me? Jeez… okay, well prepare for God’s handiwork, my precious…” I told her, completely serious.

We just had to wait for it.

“Do you really believe in all that God stuff?” she asked, putting me on the spot.

“Lately my feelings have been challenged,” I admitted with a shrug, “but yes… I believe things happen for a reason even if we can’t see them in that moment.”

She remained silent for a moment as if she were trying to muster up some restraint to not judge me for what I’d admitted. I was starting to get a good sense for when she was holding things back.

“I know you don’t really understand or can’t fathom my way of thinking, but already I can see one good thing out of what I’m going through and that’s you and honestly, I thank God for you each time I see you…”

I felt her hand slip in to mine. She seemed satisfied with the answer.

“What if they ruin your career, what if,” she began, speaking out loud all the different things that I’d thought of over and over, “they make it so you never work again.”

I shrugged, “Hopefully I’ll still have you…”

She rested her head on my shoulder. “You will…”

I felt her cuddling my arm and I smiled to myself. It felt nice to have that unprompted affection from her. She may have been acting a little bit awkward, but not when it mattered the most.

“You know what,” I began, changing the subject, “its my life’s mission to see the sunrise from every country in the world… from a beautiful place.”

“Like where?” she wondered.

“Like, I don’t know… I’d love to watch the sunrise from The Sahara Desert, from Machu Picchu in Pero, those places.”

“What about… a temple or a castle in Japan?” she suggested.

“Yeah, those kind of places, imagine watching a sunrise behind Mount Fuji?” I let my voice trail off.

“When this is all over, you should take a break and do that…” she remarked.

“Yeah?” I asked, turning to her with a big smile, thinking about it. She lifted her head and nodded, returning my smile. “Will you come with me?”

“Well, you’d need someone with you to make sure you don’t starve,” she replied breezily. It was the part of Malania that I adored, her ability to take the intensity out of a conversation when she was starting to get uncomfortable. I also hated it too because sometimes I wanted her to be intense within her communications with me.

“I’m not talking about food…” I shook my head, “I mean, as my friend, or depending on how things go, my girl.”

I saw a grin making its way across her lips. I knew that despite all fears and concerns that she had in her heart, they were the words she desperately wanted to hear.

Rather than responding immediately she simply rested her head back down and let out a content sigh, “I guess we’ll see how things go then…”

I just smiled and turned back to the crack of light that was showing in the distance. We sat in silence as daybreak fell upon the peaks and valleys that set out before us.

I put an arm around her to keep her warm and to draw her closer. It was so nice to have serene moments between each other. It was hard to ever get Diane to sit still long enough unless it was in front of the TV so her brain wasn’t working.

I could have never had a quiet, peaceful moment with her anywhere near akin to what Malania and I were sharing. I hated that Diane had entered my mind. I quickly pushed her to the back of my brain and gave thanks for who I had with me in the present. I turned and kissed her temple softly and gave her a little squeeze.

“This is really beautiful…” she murmured as we watched the sun slowly come up.

“This is what you late-risers miss out on…” I kidded.

“Be quiet,” she muttered mockingly, “you’re ruining the moment.”

I chuckled.

We sat for some time even after the sun had completely risen despite that it was growing cooler as it usually did first thing in the morning. “Have you even been to sleep?” she asked me, realising that I was weary.

“No…” I replied with honesty, “I tried, but… it didn’t work out. But its okay, I’ll go to bed after we get you back home.”

She looked concerned but accepted what I had to say.

“How was it going home the other night?” I wondered. We hadn’t really spoken a lot about her. Once the decision had been made for Malania to go with me, the hospital didn’t really want to accept it, so her parents decided to bring her home until the other treatment facility opened up.

“A bit foreign…” she answered, “I’m still sore from my Mom, but we’re all trying. It was nice to be in my own room and in my own bed and Mama was running around trying to feed me. Home cooked schnitzels and potatoes and all the good stuff, that was awesome.”

I smiled. “Cakes?”

“Always,” she chuckled, “always with the cakes. My Mama is a cakes and slices queen…”

I laughed too. I wanted to ask a more serious question, but I didn’t want to change her mood. I drew in a deep breath, “So, do you feel safe there?” I asked, “I mean, are you concerned about your brother returning?”

She thought for a moment and as I thought, her expression turned serious. “No, I think he’s got away with his abuse for so many years without police interference. He’s in a lot of trouble now and I’m pretty sure he won’t break the terms of his bail…”

I wasn’t so sure. And not only that, if she and I continued to hang out, it was only a matter of time til the press found out where she lived. “Do you mind if I send a private security guard to watch over your house while you’re there?”

She looked up at me like I was crazy for a moment but then she realised pretty quickly that I was serious. “Michael, I don’t think-“

“No, listen,” I didn’t want her to protest, “this is important to me. I agree with you, I don’t think your brother is stupid enough to do anything that will ruin his case – but I don’t want to risk it and I also don’t want to risk the media turning up or harassing you.”

She thought for a moment, “Who are you going to send? Carsen?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, “I’ll hire someone. Well…” I corrected myself, “we can hire someone. It will be discreet, so we don’t need to tell your parents if you don’t want to, it would just make me feel more comfortable.”

“Okay,” she agreed. I was relieved. I felt like it was going to take a lot of arguing and persuasion.

“Okay?” I smiled, “wow, I thought you were gonna be harder work than that.”

“Why? I trust you, you promised you wouldn’t let anyone harm me and you’re keeping that promise. I appreciate it.”

“I guess I remembered how often I had to argue with Diane about security…” I shrugged.

“Michael,” Malania turned her body to me, “stop doing that.” She looked me directly in the eye, “I’m not Diane and I know you’re still hurting over the things she did or didn’t do, but if we have any type of future as friends or more or whatever, I need you to stop comparing everything I do to her.”

I instantly felt bad that I had subconsciously compared them both to the point that she had become aware. I nodded slowly, agreeing. “Okay. I’m sorry if I’ve been doing that.”

“Its okay, but I don’t want to get in to the habit of not speaking up when something bothers me, I’ve always been that way with my parents – just wearing everything even if it doesn’t suit me.”

“I wouldn’t want that…” my voice trailed off, “I’d prefer your honesty, it’s a lot more rewarding, to be truthful.”

“Famous last words…” she joked.

I managed a laugh. Now that the sun was up, I was beginning to feel my eyes get heavy, but I knew when I closed my eyes, I was going to struggle to go to sleep.

“Come on…” I began, “We should get you inside, its getting a bit chilly.” I could feel her shuddering a little beside me.

She lifted herself from me and eyed the ladder gingerly. “This will be fun…”

“Nonsense.” I smiled, “I’ll go down first and then you can come after me and if you fall I’ll catch you.” I joked.

“If I fall, I’ll fall on top of you and you’ll probably crack your skull open…” she replied seriously.

“But I’ll have saved your life so at least it will be an honourable way out,” I shot back morbidly.

I liked that I could joke with her and not always be so on guard that I was going to get in to trouble for not being politically correct. She didn’t bother arguing back. Instead she waited patiently for me to dismount from the ladder at the bottom and turned herself around, strategically trying to get her footing right.

“Oh, that view again…” I teased.

“Michael, I am going to kick you in the face on my way down if you don’t stop staring at my butt,” she warned me.

I chuckled at her violent threats and waited for her to get about half way. “You’re almost there…” I told her, noticing her knuckles going a bit white from holding on so tightly.

I spotted her at her waist until she got to the ground, jumping from the last rung. “Asian girls don’t climb ladders,” she informed me as she set her feet on the ground and looked at me.

I smiled, “Well, I heard Serbian girls love ladders, so technically you should be somewhat indifferent to climbing ladders.”

She laughed and let me guide her back inside to the warmth of the apartment.

**

Perfect.

I watched her move about in the kitchen looking like she knew exactly what she was doing. And she did, that was my beautiful Malania. She was shower fresh, bare-footed, wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt.

Her hair was still damp and fell over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. She kept flicking it over to the side and out of the way as she stood in front of the cook-top watching our brunch that she had opted to make.

Her face was serious as she flipped an egg on the fry pan that she embarrassingly had to search for herself because I had no idea where half that stuff was kept.

“Over-easy or sunny side up?” she asked me, finally looking up right before she was about to flip.

“Ummm I don’t eat eggs very often… not like that, I don’t know, whatever you think,” I don’t think I’d ever eaten a fried egg in my life. Poached and hard-boiled only for me.

She rose an eyebrow and just flipped both of them for just a moment.

Seeming frustrated, she turned back to me and pointed at the toasted. “Michael, come on….you’re supposed to be watching that…” the toaster had smoke coming from it. I quickly pulled it out of the wall.

“What did you that for?” she finally laughed. I looked back at her innocently.

“So it didn’t catch fire?”

She shook her head and smiled through her obvious annoyance. “One job, Jackson, I give you one job,” she switched the toaster back on and hit the button that made the seared bread pop up. I threw the pieces away and began again.

“Sorry…” I murmured, “its just that I was distracted…”

“by what!?” she asked, going back to the cook top.”

I smiled angelically as I stared at her. She looked up, waiting for an answer and began to laugh at me. I felt like the more naturally I flirted with her in my obvious and cheesy ways, the more comfortable she seemed to grow with the idea of us liking one another.

“You’re an idiot. I know you’ve made toast before, just do it…”

“Yes Ma’am,” I saluted her, “you didn’t warn me about how bossy you become when you’re in charge of food.”

“Well if you don’t use the kitchen safely you end up with a kitchen fire, or worse, awful food,” she shot back in defence.

I just smiled and concentrated more on the toast and less on the beauty in front of me with her high-cheek bones and her knee-weakening grin that caused the tiniest of dimples in her cheek….

I went to find some butter in the refrigerator beside her. “it smells really good…” I complimented her, “thanks for cooking, sorry I can’t surprise you with my culinary skills.”

“You’re welcome,” she said simply as I plucked the butter from the fridge, passing her again. I almost walked right by her, but I paused and slowly put my arms around her waist. I was aware that she was jumpy and possibly her experiences had made that the case, I never liked to sneak up on her.

“You’re the best…”

I knew she was grinning and that gave me the confidence I needed to give her a little squeeze and plant a kiss on her cheek. She leaned back in to me. The scent of her jet-black hair wafted under my nose. I had no idea what she’d used to wash her hair with, but it smelled good.

I kissed her again before reluctantly letting go, I didn’t want to make a habit out of being the guy that couldn’t even use a toaster.

We finished making our early lunch and late breakfast and ate together in the dining area of the kitchen. It felt nice to have a home-cooked meal in my stomach. Everything I ate was usually taken care of by a nutritionist and chef unless of course, I was eating take-away. Malania didn’t care about carbs or calories or oils and fats and neither did I, really. There was a time and a place for worrying about those things.

“Seriously, you’re great in the kitchen…” I told her as I put down my fork. I’d eaten more than I had in weeks. I’d had two eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes, mushrooms and garlic spinach and some cabbage mess she’d thrown together that thankfully tasted so much better than it looked.

“I know, but thanks,” she smirked arrogantly.

“And the cooking is okay too,” I joked.

She chuckled. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you? I know your type, you want this sweet little wife to be in the kitchen baking and stuff, waiting on you hand and foot—“

My smile grew but I was shaking my head. “No way…you’re way off.”

“Okay then, tell me?”

“I want the woman that I marry to be great at those things, don’t get me wrong,” I chuckled, ignoring the mock-serious roll of her eyes, “but mostly I want the woman that I marry to love the things that I love—not all, but the important things. You know, I want her to be as passionate about my career as I am, to have input to a degree, you know, not to be too scared to tell me I’ve written a bad song, or… to not feel like traveling the world with me is a chore.. I want her-“ I paused, “no. I need her to love this lifestyle or else it’d just fall apart.”

Our conversation had just turned serious. She looked thoughtful. “Yeah… you had too many people around you telling you what you wanted to hear.”

She hit the nail on the head.

“Yep,” I agreed, “I want someone who’ll argue with me and tell me when I’m being an ass…”

She laughed. “Be careful what you wish for, Michael…”

I shrugged, “I guess the most important thing, well all those things aside, I want whoever my wife to be so, so, so in love with me that she’ll never consider leaving my side even when things are hard; or during those times when I am being an ass, or when the tours are too hard on our relationship—“

“What about her? What does your wife get out of this?” Malania’s arms were crossed. She looked a little amused by all of my demands. I laughed at her.

“I’m not sure… but hopefully whatever that woman finds in me will be every thing that she wants and needs. I just know that I can love harder and feel deeper than any guy I’ve ever met…”

It felt almost like we were testing out what we both needed and wanted. “What about you?” I asked, nodding toward her as I took a drink. “What would you want in a husband?”

“Why? Are you going to apply within?” There was that little killer smirk again. It made me smile. Her cheeks were flushing.

“Yeah, maybe… Tell me, c’mon…”

She picked up her orange juice and took a long sip on it. She eyed me as she placed it back down on the coaster and just shrugged. “I don’t know to be honest with you.”

“You don’t have any idea of what you want?” I asked her a little more seriously. She shook her head.

“I mean,” I began, “what about…” I tried to think, “is it gonna be okay that he is so in to his music and that means less hours for you some nights…or?”

“Michael shut up…” she shook her head, “don’t plan our future, okay?”

That hurt. I suddenly put myself back in the box. “I’m sorry, I was just playing around.”

“Don’t… I really don’t know what I want and I’m not in the mind-frame to be able to try to articulate it. You’re almost 7 years older than I am and you’ve had all of these experiences that can help you shape and mould your needs and wants upon, and all I have in my experience is-“

“is?” I prompted her. I felt bad and almost mistaken for all of my actions over the twenty-four hours.

“Doesn’t matter,” she murmured. She got up and took the plates. I got to my feet as well and followed her in to the kitchen.

“Of course it matters, Malania…” I told her in a more gentle tone. I watched her place the dishes down by the sink. She tried to ignore me, but I wasn’t letting her.

“Just talk to me, you can tell me when I’ve overstepped a line in conversation, or if my actions have made you uncomfortable. I won’t be offended.”

She turned around and faced me. I took a step back, wanting to give her some space. She looked as though she may have wanted to cry but instead she stared at me for a moment. “I’m just not sure I’m prepared for this…”

“For what?” I asked, feeling a little bit hurt by her sudden flip.

“For you.”

It seemed no one was ever ready for me. “Well you should have just said so. You know I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

She ran her fingers through her hair with frustration. “You make me so nervous,” she told me honestly, “and you’ve experienced love and heartbreak before, but I haven’t and I want to be prepared for you, but I’m scared of messing up.”

I winced, feeling bad. “Malania, the feelings that I have for you are real and they’ve been strengthened by the fact that I can really talk to you. I am an affectionate person by nature so if I’m overbearing then tell me. I like you a lot and when I like someone a lot, I can be intense and I will probably be guilty of saying things that are over the top, but you need to let me know.”

We stood about three feet away from one another, both leaning on respective counters, opposing each other. I wanted to close that distance, but I wasn’t about to make the first move again. “And by the way, how much experience in being in love do you think I’ve had?” I managed a chuckle when I saw the intensity on her face slowly start to fade.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ve had dates and stuff, I’ve hung out with girls I’ve liked but there’s only been one person that I’ve been with in a relationship…” I didn’t want to say Diane’s name.

“Have I come on too strong?” I asked her when she didn’t really respond.

She shook her head. “No…”

“Well then what?”

“I’m just scared,” she admitted.

“What of?” I knew she was holding something back.

She shook her head. “C’mon,” I pressed a little more gently, “you can be truthful with me…”

She shrugged and I noticed her eyes had grown watery. “What if…” she began, “you like me, you want me to be your girlfriend and then when push comes to shove, I can’t be intimate with you…I don’t want to lead you on.”

I hadn’t been expecting that. “Whoa, sweetheart,” I began, feeling for her. “I’m not even thinking of that. I don’t need you to be stressing about anything like that.”

“I’m sorry… I keep thinking about how unfair that would be to you and it makes me want to run away,” she murmured.

“Hey… if that stuff bothered me, I’d never have kissed you. Don’t put me off because you’re scared you might disappoint me. What if I disappoint you?”

“Doubtful… you’re too friggin’ perfect for that.”

I chuckled. “Come here, let me hug you… let’s take everything one day at a time, okay?”

She agreed and stepped forward in to my open arms.

At least I was sure that she also had feelings for me even if she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with them.  

Chapter 31 by SkyWriter

Chapter 31

Michael was eager to come with Carsen to drop me home. He said he was interested to see where I lived, but I personally felt as though he just didn’t want to be alone.

It was almost 2 hours drive home. It had been a confusing twenty-four hours and poor Michael was very tired but was adamant that he didn’t want to sleep so I tried not to push it. Instead in the car we played stupid games like i-spy and a licence plate spotting game.

Even Carsen got in on it. Usually he didn’t speak a lot.

Eventually I navigated them through my neighbourhood.

“Oooh, this is nice, Malania… I love these gorgeous Spanish-style homes…”

I lived in an affluent part of town where the houses were all very big, bordering on mansions. We had one of the smallest homes that appeared bigger than it really was. I directed Carsen to the very end of the street and had him pull in to the driveway, as close as possible to the side gate.

There were two entryways to the house that I remembered as a child thinking it looked like a gingerbread home. At least, the colour did.

It was only around 4:30 in the afternoon. My Dad was still in the garden. Sometimes he was so cute that it was embarrassing. He wore his traditional straw takuhatsugasa hat as he watered the flowers. He had looked up curiously to see who was in the SUV that had pulled in to his drive.

“Look at your Dad…” Michael chuckled. “That’s brilliant, I love those hats.”

“Embarrassing,” I laughed too.

“Uh… do you think it’d be okay if I used the bathroom?” Michael asked me.

“Sure… Let me get out and say hello to my Dad. I don’t want to have you standing outside where people might see you,” I told him, “we’ll open up the gate so you guys can drive in.”

“Thanks.” He flashed me his beautiful smile as I opened up the door and slid out.

“Malania-chan!” Dad greeted me. He met me at the cement and gave me a hug and a kiss hello, “I didn’t know who was in the car. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Papa. Michael is inside the car too,” I explained, “but I don’t want him to get out here in the street. He needs the bathroom, so I’m gonna open up the gate so he can go inside through the car port entry,” I explained.

“Sure, let me get the gate,” he offered trudging through the grass in his special grass airing shoes to get the gate button on the inside of the front door.

I smiled at my Dad and waved Carsen in. I followed the car. Once the gate had closed Michael slid out of the car and thanked me. He also pulled my overnight bag from the other side of where he was sitting.

I went to take it from him but he refused. “I got it for you,” he smiled at me chivalrously. He followed me toward the door a couple of feet from the car. We went inside and instantly I could smell that my Mom was cooking.

“Oh damn… that smells good,” Michael whispered.

I laughed, “My Mom must have smelled guests in the air.” I joked.

“Mama, I’m home…” I called out as we entered the house. Michael had gone to the effort of even taking his shoes off before we walked on carpet.

My Mama came to greet me and seemed shocked when she saw Michael. She was lost for words for a moment but quickly gained her senses which I was thankful for. My parents were from a different era where celebrity didn’t mean too much to them.

She was nervous and it probably had nothing to do with his high profile but more to do with her English-speaking insecurities. “Oh draga, hello.”

“Mama, this is Michael, Michael, this is my Mama, Helena.”

“Hello Mrs. Nakamura, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Michael smiled, holding out his hand. My Mom took his hand in both of hers.

“Thank you for being so good to my Malania, Michael. It is good to meet you.”

“And you too.”

He was pretty charming. My Mom let go of his hand. “Mama, Michael and I just drove from Hidden Hills so he is just going to use the bathroom, okay?” I explained.

Mama nodded. We were standing in the foyer area with the kitchen to the left and the hall that led to the staircase to the right. I grabbed Michael’s arm. “Come on, I’ll show you where the bathroom is at.”

He followed me down the hall and toward the staircase. I made a quick left to the downstairs bathroom. “Here you go. I’ll be in the kitchen with my Mama okay?”

“Thanks Malania.”

“You’re welcome.”

I went back to find my Mama in the kitchen. “What’s the occasion?” I asked her, “is Daddy going away?” she always liked to give my Dad a last meal each time he left, but she shook her head.

“No, Anica was going to come for dinner tonight but Danij had an accident.”

“Is she okay?” I asked, alarmed, thinking about my sweet little niece.

“Yes my sweet, she is fine but she needed to go to the emergency room. She cut here,” my Mama pointed to her chin; obviously forgetting the English name for it as she sometimes did, “she needed to have it sewn up so they are going to stay home,” she explained.

“Oh the poor thing. I bet Anica panicked,” my sister was highly-strung sometimes, especially when it came to her daughter.

Mom just nodded. “Would your friend like to stay and have dinner with us?” she asked as if just coming up with the idea.

“I don’t think he’d want to, he has to drive all the way back to Hidden Hill-“

“Hey, you could at least ask me,” a voice chimed in from the kitchen door. He had a big goofy smile on his face.

“Yes draga, he needs to eat, look at him he is too thin.”

“Don’t take notice of that,” I warned him, “Mama thinks everyone is too thin.”

He just laughed showing that he wasn’t worried. “Sorry Michael, would you like to stay for dinner? I’m sure there’s room for Carsen too.”

“Carsen?” Mom asked, wondering who we were talking about.

“Carsen is Michael’s security officer. He is in the car as well.” I informed her.

“No,” Michael said with a shake of his head, “Carsen would be really happy to go and take the night off… sure I’ll stay for dinner. Thank you Mrs. Nakamura.”

“Thanks Mama,” I smiled. I knew she was trying very hard with Michael. I knew she could tell how I felt about him. My mother and I had a close bond in that respect. She always seemed to understand my emotions, if nothing else.

“I’ll let Carsen know what’s going on. And I can call him later to tell him to pick me up, is that alright?”

“Yes, or I could drive you back… your Mercedes is still in the garage.” I reminded him.

We did a car trade back when I had been spotted at Neverland by the media. “Or that,” he smiled, “but Carsen will be fine.”

Michael disappeared outside. “Thanks for inviting him to stay Mama.” I thanked my Mom. I knew it made her nervous to meet people for the first time, but I appreciated it.

“That’s okay draga, I am sure he is a very nice man,” she replied to me, “and I like to see you happy.”

Michael re-emerged at the door of the kitchen. “You have a beautiful home…” he remarked, looking around the country-style kitchen that my mother had slowly decorated over the years.

“Thank you,” my Mom smiled and gave him a little nod.

“Do you want me to show you around?” I asked Michael. He smiled and nodded.

“Okay I’ll give you the grand tour.”

**

Michael grabbed for my hand as we headed upstairs and were out of vision of my parents. “This is scary for me…” he whispered honestly.

“What is?” I asked, surprised as we got to the landing.

“Being in a ‘normal’ home, trying to act normal…” I rose my eyebrow at him and paused our tour.

“What do you mean, ‘act normal’? I asked him, “you are normal. And if it helps, my Mama is probably more nervous than you are.”

“Why?” he asked quizzically, “she seems like she hates me, I can tell…”

I laughed, “You are so dramatic. My Mama is scared of new people. She’s always scared that her English is awful and that you’ll judge her. So, if she doesn’t speak a lot to you, that’s why… its not personal.”

He seemed a little relieved. “Okay, show me around… where’s your room?”

I laughed at him and showed him down the end of the hallway past my parents room to mine. I’d moved in to my sister’s room as soon as she got married. She’d always had a problem with that, but I was sure she could figure out why.

I opened the door and invited him in. “This is where I sleep and hang out.” He took a step in and looked around with a half-smile as if he were drinking in his surroundings. “Finally!” he remarked, “tell me you did this?” He made a beeline to an oil painting of cherry blossoms on my wall.

I smiled, “Yes, I painted that…”

“Wow… its beautiful, good technique… I love it. What else have you painted?”

I looked around, “I don’t know, I’ll see if I can find some things and show you later,” I told him.

“Hey you got your own TV…” he remarked as if he were surprised.

“My Dad is in Japan almost half the year round, you’d be surprised what cool gadgets we have in this place. He may as well be a shareholder in Sony,” I joked.

Michael laughed, “Really? Your Dad is in to gadgets?” he asked, “that’s one of my favourite things about Japan…”

“Well…” I shrugged, watching Michael take a seat at my desk, overlooking all of the little trinkets and things that covered the surface, “I don’t know if he is in to them, but he always brings them home for me or my niece or sister…”

“Awesome… hey, this is very cool…” he pointed to the corner of my built-in desk where I kept my collection of the puzzle boxes my Dad had bought over the years for me, “that’s like the one you gave me.”

“Yeah… I gave you my most favourite, most cherished one, I hope you know” I informed him as I sat on my bed.

He picked up one and ran his fingers over it carefully. “You know, when I finally got that thing open and I read your note… I totally panicked,” he admitted as he briefly looked up to meet my eyes, “I have never had someone find me out so easily, I didn’t really know what to do…”

“So you ignored me… and made me feel really, really awful for that week.”

He grimaced. “I’m really sorry about that… can I be really honest about something?” he asked, lowering his voice.

I nodded.

He stared at the carpet beneath his stark white socks. “Around that time when I was being a complete ass to you, I was self-medicating.”

His admission could have knocked me over with a feather. I never would have picked him for the type but it sure did explain a lot. “Are you kidding? When you and I were hanging out in the beginning, you were high?” I exclaimed incredulously. I wasn’t mad at him, I was just shocked.

“Shhh…” he hushed me, “Please don’t be mad…”

“I’m not… I’m just surprised… what were you taking? And are you still?” I asked.

“When I came to see you in the hospital and I saw what had happened to you, it was a bit of a reality check. I wanted to be a good support,” he explained, “And I would have been a giant hypocrite asking you to stop all of your self-destructive tendencies while I was still committing mine.”

“And that’s it? Cold turkey?”

He nodded. “I was taking Adderol as an upper and sleeping pills when I’d taken too much… but after seeing you, I flushed everything when I got home.” 

“Thank you…” I murmured, “for being honest with me, for stopping for me…”

“I guess that’s why I acted like a bit of a jerk when I got that note from your puzzle box. I was barely functioning and was scared you’d figure out that I was using since you’d figured out about my cutting.”

“Do you ever still cut?” I wondered.

He dared to look me in my eyes and slowly shook his head. “I want to some days…” he murmured, “really, really… but most days I’m okay knowing that you need me so I shouldn’t do anything stupid.”

“Don’t you need me too?” I asked a little insecurely.

“Yes,” he smiled, looking up at me. “Of course I do and I’m really proud of how well you’re doing.”

We shared a meaningful smile. He leaned his arms on his knees and focused on the small box in his hands. “We’re two messed up little pieces, aren’t we?” he asked.

“But we fit together well…”

He smiled weakly. “So, now you know all of my secrets, are you still attracted to me?”

“Yes…”

He reached over and took my hand. “You know, I was thinking about everything you said earlier, about not being prepared and being concerned about expectation…”

I nodded, trying to not be uncomfortable by his frank conversation. “Yeah?”

“And it wasn’t fair to fob off your concerns by telling you not to worry. You obviously are worried about it, and I just wanted to say that I’ll always be mindful of everything you’ve been through and I’ll be extra careful with your heart.”

I couldn’t help but to smile at him. I pulled him closer to me, letting the wheels of the chair roll toward me. He smiled back at me as I pressed my lips against his. I was painfully inexperienced but I knew how much I felt for him. He took my other hand and squeezed them. I opened my mouth slightly, inviting his tongue to graze against mine.

He pulled away first, licking his lips where mine had been. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I’ll never get tired of telling you that…”

I couldn’t help but to smile and give in to the butterflies that filled my stomach whenever he touched me as tenderly as he knew how. I always believed the words that came from his mouth.

He was right, neither of us were perfect—in fact, far from it, we both had our own serious issues, but rather than fuelling the problems, we seemed to keep each other accountable and well.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing it…” I replied, staring back at him. Usually, I let his eyes unnerve me when they searched my face intensely, but I made myself hold his gaze. He seemed relaxed though serious and I could see that the fatigue was starting to take a hold on him. He had dark rings beneath his eyes and they were a little blood shot.

“Did you need to take a nap or something?” I asked him, running my fingers over the back of his hand.

“No, I’ll sleep on the way home, I promise.”

“Okay, do you want the rest of the tour?” I asked him, “or do you want to hang out here?”

He shrugged, “maybe we should hang out in a public place in the house so your folks don’t think I’m taking advantage of you.”

I rolled my eyes, “it’s a bit late for them to worry about someone doing that to me.” I knew I shouldn’t have said things like that, but I couldn’t help it.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that. They do care. You know since you’ve told them they’ve done nothing but try to accommodate you in every single way that they can.”

“I know.” I nodded, “Forget I said that.” I got up from my bed and watched Michael get up too. I knew he was tired and sluggish but he was trying to remain upbeat just for me.

I finished showing Michael around and showed him in to the living room where we met my father who was coming from the downstairs bathroom. He’d obviously finished gardening.

“Papa, Michael is staying for dinner,” I informed him.

He nodded at Michael politely, “welcome, Michael.”

“Thank you Mr. Nakamura… Malania has just shown me around your home.”

“Please feel very welcome, Michael. We are glad to have you here. How are you today? Yesterday was a very big day.”

Michael nodded nervously, hating when people brought up his legal battle. “I’m really okay, thank you for asking.”

“Are you feeling confident?” he questioned him.

Michael just smiled. “I am remaining quietly hopeful that this will all be cleared up and the person making the accusations will understand that I’m not guilty as well,” he responded diplomatically.

“Anyway,” I butted in, “we’re going to watch some television, Papa.”

“Okay Malania-chan how are you feeling yourself?” he asked me, “are you alright?”

“Yes,” I smiled, I wanted him to know how much I appreciated them letting me go with Michael, “I’m feeling good, Papa, I promise.”

“That’s good my sweetheart, I’m going to get changed,” he nodded to his garden clothes.

We left to go in to the living room. Michael looked around curiously as he always did. He loved being outside of the walls that confined his life since I had known him. His curiousity was always boundless. I was sure that living a life inside a fishbowl had made him borderline nosey when it came to how other non-famous people lived their lives.

I flipped on the television and waited for Michael to patiently look at my Mama’s glass cabinet full of little figurines and keepsakes that she had collected over the years. Finally he realised I was waiting for him and regarded me with a brief smile and sat down on the couch.

I sat down beside him, leaning my head against his shoulder and gave a yawn. “You tired, sweet?” he asked quietly. I knew he was shy being in my family home and probably very worried of what my parents might think him, but he was being such a good sport. I knew the situation was uncomfortable for him, which flattered me that he would have endured it based on his feelings for me.

“Not as tired as you must be…” I murmured. He gently took the television remote from my hand and switched the channel over to the news. It was something he’d been doing periodically to try to desensitise himself to the stress of the trial.

“Prosecutors in the case against Michael Jackson have had a small victory today with lab reports confirming DNA matches of which will weigh heavily upon the shoulder’s of Jackson’s defense.”

“What the hell…” Michael murmured.

I grabbed the remote from him and changed the channel. “Don’t worry about it,” I told him, “its just the media spinning crap for sensationalism.”

I felt his shoulder’s drop. I turned on something else. “You need to stay away from the news,” I added.

“I know… it doesn’t help that I’m tired either, I suppose,” he agreed.

“Why don’t you close your eyes and I’ll wake you when dinner is ready?” I suggested to him, worried about his very obvious lack of sleep. Even his words were growing sluggish.

He shook his head, “No, I don’t want to be rude to your parents. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

We focused on the television for a few moments before my mother appeared in the living room doorway. “Malania, Treba mi pomoć, molim…”

I frowned at her for a moment before slowly understanding that she wanted my help. “Ok, Mama…” I saw her smile, I knew she was pleased that I understood some Serbian without having to ask her to repeat herself as I usually did.

I stood up, Michael looked at me quizzically, “she needs my help, I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Okay…”

I followed my Mom to the kitchen, “Mama, please speak English in front of Michael, he’ll think we are talking about him,” I told her, “And besides, my Serbian is awful, you know that…”

“But your Japanese is wonderful,” she couldn’t help but jibe me. I knew she hated that I was so fluent in Japanese but so hideous speaking her own mother-tongue. Probably because my father spoke English so well, she on the other hand, didn’t speak it half as well as he did.

My father was especially wonderful with language. He spoke five extra languages and one of them was Serbian. He spoke English, Spanish, Serbian, Italian and was pretty clued in on French.

“Sorry, my sweet, but it is hard for me,” she apologised, “is Michael a vegetarian?” she asked, “or will he eat meat?”

“He’ll eat meat, I’m sure.”

“Malania, what is happening?” she asked quietly, “is there a romance between you both?”

I didn’t want to lie. “Maybe,” I admitted, “but please trust me to figure it out with Michael on our own. We are adults.”

“I worry for you,” she said softly, “right now is a very hard time for you both.”

I nodded, “but we are supporting each other well during the hard times and if we can do that, we can do anything… I think if you make an effort to get to know him, you will understand why I like him so much, but that won’t happen if you speak Serbian in front of him. He’s very shy and nervous like you.”

I didn’t want my Mom to suddenly feel as though she had the right to lord over my happiness, she had to sit back and deal with it even if she didn’t like it.

“Okay, okay, I just want what’s best for you, please know this,” she murmured avoiding my eyes and stirring a pot on the stove.

“I know, but as I said, put some effort in with Michael to make him feel comfortable and he will be comfortable to be himself and you can get to know him as well.”

I figured that’s all she wanted from me, help in understanding what was going on. I left her to it in the kitchen after setting the table without being asked. I heard voices as I got back to the living room and found Michael and my father chatting. Michael was laughing. He had a nice, sweet and contagious laugh that made me feel happy to hear.

My Dad was a pure gentleman, he had always been that way. For that reason, I knew he would love Michael, Michael was pretty much a similar, calm and traditional man. “Your Dad told me that a newspaper called here yesterday after the hearing,” Michael informed me as I took a seat beside him.

“What?” I asked, “are you kidding? What did you tell them?”

Dad laughed, “I put on my bad-English voice and said I speak no English. In Japanese, repeatedly. They eventually hung up.”

I smiled but I was annoyed with the press and how they were just vying to find out dirty secrets to ensure they could publicly lynch Michael.

“Honestly, I’m sorry that you are being bothered, that’s unfair to you and your family.”

“Its alright, its not your fault, Michael, you didn’t ask for this to happen to you,” my father told him with a great deal of compassion in his tone. “It’s a hard time for you, you should focus on the important things right now.”

“Thank you…” Michael nodded, grateful but unable to find the words to say much else.

“May I ask, this woman who is saying you did these things, is she someone who has been in your life? Or is she a fan? I have been confused by all the news stories.”

I felt Michael stiffen a little bit. I tried to send my Dad glares to warn him to stop interrogating him, but my parents were pretty oblivious and he was just trying to make conversation and to show his support.

“I knew her. She was a very good friend of mine which is why I am so shocked by the accusation. They are saying so many things about me and it feels unfair because I’m not allowed to confront her. Her child was a big part of my life, I was helping take care of her financially while she was very sick with cancer… I’m just… really blown away by it.”

My Dad seemed surprised by Michael’s long explanation and I was too. Usually he was too polite to show his emotions or to say more than he needed to to strangers, but I knew his fatigue was making his lips a little more loose.

“That is disgusting. Sometimes people will do anything for money or fame,” my Dad replied, “for a piece of notoriety…”

Michael shook his head, “No, she truly believes that I hurt her daughter. Which I think is harder to swallow for me than if she were actually after a pay-day.”

“I’m sorry, Michael, but I am sure your lawyers will help reveal the truth; and if there is anything you need from us, we will be grateful to help—after all you have done for my Malania-chan.”

Michael was able to smile, “Thank you. Its been my pleasure to have found friendship with Malania, its nice to have someone who is honest and kind within my life, its very hard to come by in my industry.”

I felt butterflies in my tummy with his words, but I waved them away, feeling my face blush a little. I dared to glance at him. He was grinning at me, I knew silently making fun of my blushing. I also knew that my Dad was probably catching on to our silent communication and was probably realising it was more than friendship now.

Chapter 32 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Sorry that its been awhile since updating, I have had a lot of RL stuff going on :) 

Chapter 32

It was hard to keep my head from falling in to the plate. My eyes were so heavy and I was beginning to feel a bit lethargic, but I tried my best to not let it show. I began to eat the fennel salad that Malania’s mother had served and before me.

I felt Malania’s hand on my arm and instantly I realised that I’d lost my manners. “I’m sorry…” I felt my cheeks flush. It was nerve-wracking enough being in someone else’s home, meeting her parents officially.

“Its okay,” Her mother, Helena smiled warmly. I just put my fork down and waited for everyone to sit.

“Do you ever say grace?” Malania’s Dad asked curiously just after it dawned on me why everyone was waiting to eat, including Malania who claimed to be entirely faithless. Somehow I didn’t really believe that to be the case.

“Sometimes,” I lied.

“We like to say a prayer before we eat if it is okay with you,” Helena spoke softly, avoiding my eyes. I remembered somebody telling me that I needed to make more eye contact when meeting people because it seemed untrustworthy, but sometimes it was hard when I was shy, so I understood why Helena continually avoided mine.

“Of course…” I smiled. Malania sat back and let her mother load up her plate. I wasn’t sure she would eat it all, but she didn’t protest.

Once settled, the three of my dinner mates bowed their head and closed their eyes. I followed suit, trying to seem like it was an every day occurrence that people openly prayed before me.

“Bless us oh Lord and for this meal that we are about to receive from your bounty. We give thanks for our lives, jobs and the health of every person sitting at this table. We especially thank you, Jesus, for Michael, a new friend in Malania’s life; that you might be with him during this difficult time. With the intercession of Mother Mary, all the Angels and Saints and through you, Christ Almighty, we pray, Amen.”

I felt the weight of her father’s prayerful words fall upon my shoulders. I knew he meant it, it meant a lot that they were on my side without really knowing me. It made me aware that they trusted their daughter’s judgment. It meant that they were giving me a chance; that not unlike me, they were trusting me because so far I hadn’t given them a reason not to.

I delivered a small smile upon my lips and repeated the Amen politely along with Malania and her parents.

“Thank you for praying for me,” I said a little quietly, “I appreciate it so much.”

“I told you, Michael, my parents have been praying for you since we came back from Mexico.” Malania told me. I tried to wrack my brain. I didn’t remember her telling me, but I assumed it was early on.

I just smiled.

Both of her parents told me that I was welcome. I knew her father, George as he had re-introduced himself as, liked me—but for some reason, I felt like her mother was the one I’d have to work to win over.

We all began to eat. It was a little uncomfortable, but I was enjoying the flavours in the salad. It wasn’t anything special, but Helena had explained to me that they began every dinner with a salad and the fennel was from her garden.

The silence began to eat at me a little bit. “So,” I looked at Malania’s mother. She met my eyes briefly but quickly looked away, “Mrs. Nakamura what is a traditional Serbian meal?”

Obviously it was the right question to ask and something she was confident in talking about. She lifted her eyes and smiled at me, “do you know what Sarma is? Or ćavapi?”

“Mm, I think the sarma is the cabbage leaf rolls?” I asked, “I think they have been served to me before when I was in Bosnia or some place like that.”

“Ah, yes,” Helena smiled and nodded, “this is the one. I have some here, I have some mince and onion and herbs and spices, I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” I wasn’t huge on meat, I tried to live a vegetarian lifestyle, but I was pretty in to burgers. I just preferred to not ask questions about where the meat came from.

ćavapi is kind of … uh..” she looked to her husband, “how do you say?”

“sausage,” Malania supplied, “its like a sausage…”

“Okay…” I nodded.

“Yes sausage,” Helena confirmed, acknowledging her daughter with nod, “we serve it with cheeses and potatoes and some other things. It is what we’ll have tonight after the salad.”

“This is one of my favourite things, isn’t it Mama?” Malania asked her mother with a big smile. Its ćavapičić ... so good, Michael, I swear…” she promised me, “a giant sausage sounds like nothing, but you won’t regret it…”

I laughed at her excitement. I wasn’t really a live to eat kinda guy, but I did sometimes really enjoy a good dinner.

“Yes, Malania would always ask me for ćavapičić when she was young. She used to help me make it.”

“Oh yes,” George grinned, “Malania was so sweet, all she ever wanted to do with Helena was cook and bake. Every day I would get home,” he glanced at his daughter, “and she would run out, ‘Papa, Papa – we made ćavapi for you’” he imitated his young daughter.

It made me laugh, “I bet she was so cute,” I chuckled, “she’s still so cute.”

Malania’s cheeks flushed momentarily. “We loved to cook together didn’t we, Mama?” she asked.

Her mother nodded in agreement.

“Well, I can’t cook at all. This morning Malania made me some breakfast and promised me that she will teach me to cook.”

“What!?” Helena exclaimed, “you don’t cook? Who cooks for you? How do you eat?”

I chuckled again at the way she had began firing questions.

“I have someone who cooks for me—well, at least I did,” I corrected myself, “right now I just eat whatever I get someone to get for me…”

“Malania can cook, but I know more. I teach you,” she said with resolve as if it weren’t even up for negotiation.

Malania laughed too, “hey, I can teach him… I’m not an awful cook, he just needs to know how not to burn bread.”

“Stop fighting over Michael,” George told them both and laughed at me, “let him eat his dinner in peace, he can choose who will be his instructor later.”

Helena and Malania eventually settled down, but Malania branded her ownership over me by touching my inner arm gently. “Its okay,” she said knowingly, “you’ll pick wisely.”

It was absolutely lovely to see her joking and calm with her family. I knew it had been a little while since that had been the case. If I was needed there as a little buffer, then I didn’t mind at all.

“Do you have big dinners with your family?” Helena asked me.

I tried not to grimace but I shook my head. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had sat down with anyone in my family besides my mother or my nieces or nephews and eaten a hot meal. “No, I have a very big family… we are all living in different places and its hard to get us together at one time,” I answered diplomatically. “Usually its just my Mom and I.”

“Oh,” she frowned as if she were trying to digest such disturbing information.

“Eating has always been bonding time for us as a family, it is a big part of Helena’s culture.”

“Well, this food is certainly art…” I remarked as the dish of sausage, flat bread, cheeses, sour cream, potatoes and onions was placed in front of me. I wasn’t sure how I’d like it, but it sure smelled good.

“To be fair, you’ve lived on sandwich, soup and salad for awhile and you can’t cook, so anything would like like a culinary masterpiece to you.” Malania jibed me, giving me a gentle nudge in the ribs.

“Its true…”

We ate our dinner chatting politely about dinner. I felt Malania’s mother slowly warming to me. She told me about her eldest daughter and her eldest son, but there was no mention of Samuel, the youngest son. It was clear that Malania was her favourite, despite it being unspoken. Perhaps it was because she was the baby, but I assumed it was for a few reasons.

Malania, although she wasn’t particularly happy with her mother, seemed to have the most time and patience for her. She was an affectionate girl by nature and needed her parents. The other siblings seemed as though they’d been thoroughly independent for a long time.

“So Michael,” George began, “what is the next step for you now in this court case?”

I felt a little more comfortable discussing it openly knowing that they were on my side. I looked down at the traditional red checked table cloth and drew in a deep breath. “We don’t have to talk about the trial,” Malania cut-in, she was irate with her father, I could tell from her tone. I knew she was just trying to protect me.

“No,” I smiled, “its okay, I don’t mind.” I turned back to her Dad, “My lawyers are gathering evidence and witnesses. They’re talking to staff, friends and family who were in my life over the course of my relationship with the Hargrove family. At the moment they are saying my DNA was all over the child’s bed, but its just hair, but the news are making it sound more sinister. I used to read to her before bed. Or sometimes she’d wake and ask for me so I used to tend to her…”

“Its total crap,” Malania sighed.

“Its very unfair, I’m sorry for this,” Helena said in a softer voice. I saw her reach and pat her daughter’s hand.

“Why would this woman think something happened?” George pressed me.

I shrugged. “Something did happen to the child,” I was very careful not to use her name. I trusted Malania, but I didn’t want Casey’s name dropped, “which is heartbreaking for me to know, but… I don’t know who it was, I just know that it wasn’t me. I suppose her mother would assume its me given that I was the strongest male influence in her life and was often left alone with her.”

“Its awful that someone would do this without allowing you the decency to defend yourself.”

I shrugged again, “I’ll defend myself in court, I’ll just keep praying in the meantime that she’ll realise or find out the truth. The little girl isn’t talking at the moment, but that’s not abnormal, she used to stop talking during her sicknesses as a coping mechanism.”

Malania was quick to change the subject. She asked her Dad about his gardening. He tried to go back to the case against me, but all he mentioned was the media coverage from the arraignment.

My eyes were so heavy after we’d eaten dinner. George told me about his previous trip to Japan. I asked him about different kind of gadgets I’d been keeping my eyes on. We agreed that he’d take a list from me when he went next and pick me up some things.

“Dad got my niece a Nintendo a little while ago, she loves it, and so does he, don’t you Papa?”

“What, are you serious?” I asked, looking from Malania to her father who was chuckling almost bashfully at her admission, I had wanted to get a Nintendo since I’d seen them go on the market. “I wanna get one. I love video games.”

“Its in Danij’s play room, would you like to play it?” Helena offered to me.

“Sure!” I exclaimed, forgetting that I was tired.

Malania laughed at my enthusiasm. “Okay, I’ll show you to Danij’s playroom, you’ll be Mario Bros crazy in no time.”

I laughed. “I have played them before, I’m not very good, but its really fun… Mind numbing too,” I added without reservation. It was clear that I really did need something to keep my mind off things.

“Wait,” George began, “before you do that,” he glanced at his wife, they exchanged a look that made me feel a bit nervous, as if there was something they needed to discuss with her in private, “there’s something we have to tell you…”

Malania was at their attention immediately, “What is it?”

Again, her parents exchanged looks. Helena nodded at George as if giving him permission to break something to her. Immediately, I began to think it was something about her brother that she wasn’t going to like.

“Daddy,” she pressed, “what is it?”

“Do you want some privacy?” I asked, “I can leave…”

“No, its okay,” her father held up his hand, “Malania, we had a phone call this morning from the treatment facility. You’ll begin there tomorrow night.”

“What?” she looked from me to her father and then at her mother as if she was in disbelief. “I didn’t think it would be so soon…”

“That’s a good thing,” I said, trying to be brighter about it.

“No…” she shook her head. I was sure she was about to cry, but she didn’t. “Papa, why so soon?”

“My sweetheart,” he started very gently, “you knew you needed to go, you knew the spot had opened up, we have a deal. If you don’t take this spot, you will have to wait much longer…”

“I don’t even need the treatment anymore… I promise,” she began bargaining with him. I said nothing and rested my hand over hers. I knew it would calm her. It was my way of telling her to stop arguing.

“Darling, you need this treatment, please don’t fight us on this.”

She breathed in a deep breath. I put an arm around her shoulders and caressed her bare skin on her arm gently, trying to be of some comfort.

“The sooner you go in and go through the treatment, the sooner you can come home…”

She exhaled and shrugged, “Okay… I guess.” I knew she was trying to brave because I was too. I didn’t know how I’d go for a week without a friend in the world.

“Malania it is because we love you,” Helena added.

She shook her head. I knew she wanted to back-talk her mother, but instead she stayed silent.

“Why don’t you both go and play the computer, your father will help me clean up,” Malania’s mother suggested kindly, giving me the impression Malania usually helped clean up.

“No,” I shook my head, “we’ll help clear up, are we washing dishes?” I asked, pushing my chair back, hearing it scrape against the terracotta slate laid down in the family area.

“No, no, no, guests do not clean in my home,” Helena shook her head, getting up too. “šećeru, please take Michael and show him the game.”

Malania smiled her sweet, dimpled smile at me. “Thanks for getting me out of dish duty,” she winked. She seemed to let go of the bad news.

I just gave her a weak smile. I knew she was disguising her sadness over having to go to treatment, but it was inevitable. She knew it was going to be happening within the week, but I felt as though she thought perhaps she would be able to do some smooth-talking to get herself out of it.

I was glad that her parents were digging their heels in. I knew that there was a chance that they wouldn’t, especially her mother, like to be the bad guy and would fear driving a wedge further between them.

She nudged me softly in the side and returned my smile, as if to assure me that everything was alright with her. I wasn’t used to a smile making my knees weaken. It was the little dimple in her cheek, the way her eyes narrowed slightly, the way it created little lines that mapped out her entire expression.

In all honesty, I wanted to get her alone and I wanted to kiss her – properly without restraint. I wanted to embrace her and smooth my hands down her slender arms and trace the contours of her body—all the impulses that had flooded me upon the realisation of my feelings for her needed to be reeled in though. I’d made a promise and I wasn’t willing to scare her off.

I just smiled back at her and tried to tell her my feelings with my eyes.

šećeru,” I repeated out loud, “what does that mean?” I asked, “is it a nickname?”

“No, it is like sweetie or honey or my sweet, I think…” Helena replied to me, “for a man, I would say ‘šećer’”

“Cool…” I nodded, “Okay šećeru,” I said, nudging Malania, “I’m ready to play Nintendo now.”

**

Malania suggested setting the Nintendo up in the family room since the television was bigger. We set it up and played together until she grew bored. I knew she was just humouring me.

“Can you play on your own?” she asked me kindly almost as if she didn’t want to let me down by telling me she was done with it.

“Sure… although I should probably make tracks soon…”

We were sitting side by side on the chaise, outstretched and comfortable. She pouted at me. “Not yet, stay… my parents like you. And, who know’s when I’ll see you next.”

I didn’t really want to think about it, so I didn’t address it, nor did I want her to. I just smiled at her. “Okay, I’ll stay a bit longer…”

“I’m just going up to my room for a moment,” she said, getting up, “I’ll be a sec.”

She returned, true to her word a few moments later holding the book that I’d given her to loan, Jonathan Livingston Seagull.

“Oh, you’re reading it…” I murmured happily. “I’m glad, you’ll love it, I’m sure.”

“I already do…” She told me, opening to about a quarter of the way through where she found the bookmark. “I’ll read, you play…”

I looked down to the video game control in my hand and smiled. I turned to her; watching her settle back against the chaise beside me, concentrating on the page she was reading.

I nudged her gently with my arm as I unpaused the game, turning back to the TV. “Hey…”

“Mmm?” she rose an eyebrow absently, not taking her eyes off the page.

“You look gorgeous today, did I tell you that?” I asked her.

She chuckled in a way that allowed me to know she was embarrassed as well as overwhelmed by the attention I was delivering to her.

“Maybe once…” she replied casually, trying to be cool.

“Okay, just checking,” I grinned, concentrating back on my game.

She chuckled again and inched closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder as she became reabsorbed in the story.

**

“I really should get going…” I said regretfully to Malania, “do you think it’d be alright if I called Carsen from your folk’s phone?” I asked, putting the controller down.

“I don’t think they’d like you using the phone, so you better not…” she replied in a soft and serious voice that she almost expected me not to question. It was almost 9pm.

I laughed, “I guess I’ll go ask your Dad, if he says no, I could walk down the street and whistle for a cab or something…” I answered her just as casually.

It made her put her book down and face me. “I don’t want you to go… when am I going to see you next?”

“You’ll go to your new centre and you’ll be so busy, you’ll not even think of me.”

“Lies…” she pouted. “I rarely think of anyone else. Its kinda sad, really.”

I reached over and stroked her hair softly. She didn’t become shy, nor did she avoid my eyes. I let my forefingers fall over her cheeks, grazing them lightly with my touch. “You’re going to be okay,” I told her, “I promise.”

“What about you?” she asked, “I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to be alone, I know how lonely you get.”

I was very aware that we were in a public area of her parent’s home and didn’t want to disrespect them by laying hands on their daughter, but I couldn’t bear to see the sadness in her eyes. “I’ll be alright, it’ll only be for a week, right? I’ll read some books. I’ll write you a couple of letters and give them to you when I see you – if you’re lucky, I might write you a song.”

She smiled briefly. I knew she wasn’t really playing nor was she in the mood to see the light-hearted side of things.

I shifted my weight beside her, so that I was facing her properly. I took her soft face in both of my hands and leaned over and kissed her on her warm lips. “Lanz,” I began.

“Wait, don’t call me that… I don’t like it,” she told me honestly, “it reminds me of a shit time in my life, I don’t like it.”

I felt bad. “Sorry… I didn’t realise.”

“Its okay…” her voice trailed off. My eyes searched hers for a moment. She made me smile and filled my heart with an overwhelming sense of joy.

“I’ll come up with something better…” I promised. I felt her lean her cheek in to my hand.

“I just don’t want to go,” she admitted, looking down, “I don’t want you to go, because it means I won’t see you for awhile and I don’t think I have the heart to deal with the therapy side of things.”

“You do.” I confirmed for her, “you’ve been incredibly brave throughout all of this. You’ll come out the other side and I’ll be there to see you emerge and shine brighter than you already do.”

“I hope so…” she murmured.

“You know what my mother said to me?” I asked her, caressing her hair, still holding her gaze.

“What’s that?”

“When I was at my lowest of low and I was about to go and be submitted to the strip-search and photograph at the beginning of all this. She told me to never, ever let anyone steal my shine.”

Malania looked away from my eyes, I knew my words were affecting her and she was growing a little emotional.

“And you know, I felt like screaming in her face and telling her that the world had already taken it away… but now I’m here with you, and I just adore you so much and you’ve made me see that no one can stop me from shining. The world can try to take me down, but it’ll only happen if I let it…”

She looked back up at me. I saw the tears filling her eyes. “What if they make me talk about my secret.”

“You will; because you are brave. You’ll work through it, the way you told me. Don’t let anyone; not your brother, a therapist, anyone, take away your shine, Malania. Make that choice.”

She sniffed.

“Okay?” I insisted.

She nodded. I wiped away a few of her tears with my thumbs.

“Do you want me to come tomorrow and see you before you leave?” I asked her.

“Maybe. I don’t know if it’ll be too hard,” she replied, “I know you’re tired, but is it too much to ask if you just stay here a tiny bit longer?”

“Okay.” I agreed, “Carsen is probably enjoying his night off anyway.”

I settled next to her, slipping my arm around her, bringing her close to me. She rested her head on my shoulder and draped her arm across my waist, holding me. It felt nice to have a beautiful girl holding me; needing me.

She clicked the television on to the Cartoon Network; something we’d both enjoyed watching together.

We watched Huckleberry Hound together for a little while, before she piped up again. “Michael?”

“Yes?”

“Can you…” she paused as if she were looking for the right words. Our eyes met as I gazed at her expectantly. “Could you kiss me…”

I almost laughed at her sweetness. She was so shy, obviously not that comfortable initiating physical intimacy just yet. That was okay, I knew there was a reason for it. There was a part of me that liked that she wanted me to take the lead; it gave me better confidence.

“You don’t have to ask…” I murmured as I slipped my hand behind her head, guiding her toward me. Her eyes fell shut as our lips pressed together. She shifted closer, encircling her arm further around me, getting more of a grip on me. I felt her tongue against mine, eager yet still unsure. I let our tongues do a little dance for a few moments, noticing some goose bumps upon the surface of her skin as I let my hand fall from her shoulders down her arms.

Just as she pulled away and my eyes were opening, I spied her mother standing in the door way, looking a little shocked. When she realised I saw her, she turned her heel and made a hasty exit.

“Malania,” I murmured, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. “Your mother just walked in.”

She clutched her hand over her mouth, “Oh man.”

I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. “Don’t worry,” she assured me, “its fine. My Mom knows there’s something between us,” she sounded as though she was trying to console herself, “I told her earlier. Just relax. I’ll talk to her after you leave.”

Her words did allow me to relax slightly. “Okay…”

Her hand slipped in to mine and she resumed her position, embracing me and relaxing me. I didn’t even remember when it was that I fell asleep, but it was the first time in awhile that I’d felt satisfied enough to sleep without trying too hard.

Chapter 33 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Please leave a comment if you like this chapter :)

Michael looked so peaceful, I couldn’t bare to wake him. I edged out from next to him and got up. I remembered he’d put the number he was supposed to call Carsen on, in his jacket pocket. It was on the coat rack. I retrieved it and went to the mantle in the hall and made the phone call to tell Carsen to come and get him in the morning.

I found a blanket and laid it out over him, deciding to let him sleep. I leaned over and pressed my lips against his temple. I loved him. He smelled divine. He always did. He smelled clean and soapy and his skin had traces of cologne that made me want to continue kissing him all over his face.

He stirred slightly and opened his eyes. He went to sit up. “Its okay,” I whispered, having just turned the lights out, “just close your eyes, I’ve called Carsen. He’ll pick you up in the morning.”

Michael was obviously too tired to argue. He just shifted in to a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Goodnight baby,” I murmured. It was the first time I gave him a pet name – or anyone, really. It felt odd, but it suited him. I wanted him to be mine, I didn’t want any other woman near him the way I got near to him.

I went to the kitchen where I knew I could find my parents; both probably enjoying tea together as they sometimes did after dinner.

“You need to say something!” I heard my mother hiss, “I will not have that man come in here and try to defile my daughter under our roof!” she spat the words at him angrily.

I rose an eyebrow and felt my own anger rising. I knew she was furious about Michael kissing me. I just was surprised it upset her so much.

My Dad saw me before my mother did. “Are you serious right now?” I asked, pulling a sliding door closed that partitioned the hall from the kitchen. I didn’t want Michael to wake up to us arguing if things got a little heated.

My mother looked surprised. “What happened?” Dad asked me, “did he try to take advantage off of you?”

I laughed with disgust. “Did he try to take advtange of me?” I glared at my mother, “I am almost twenty-three years old!” I wanted to explode, but I kept my voice as hushed as I could, “he didn’t try to take advantage of me!”

“Okay, okay, honey, please be calm…” Dad held up his hands, trying to halt me, but I was so mad with my mother.

“I don’t want this man to defile you,” my mother repeated, “you are in a very vulnerable state.”

“Oh,” I threw my head back, “suddenly now your English becomes perfect.” I shook my head, “And since when the fuck did you start caring about someone defiling me?” I shot back at her, “it’s a little bit late for that wouldn’t you say?”

She retreated, hurt. My Dad grew angry with me. He didn’t like me speaking back to her using foul language, but I was done. I was so mad. “Malania, apologise to your mother, immediately.”

“I will not.” I narrowed my eyes at my mother. It was impossible for me to any angrier. “Michael is the most beautiful, patient and kind man I have ever met. We cares about me and I don’t really care what either of you think. Mind your business, the both of you.”

I went to turn my heel, “And, I added, for your information, I asked for him to kiss me. I’m probably defiling him.”

I opened the door and closed it behind me, letting it shut loudly. I was going to go to bed, but instead I went back to the living room and turned the TV on softly. Michael was still sleeping heavily. I snuggled next to him, pulling the blanket over me. I concentrated on a true crime show and tried to calm the rage burning within me.

I couldn’t wait to go to therapy and come home and get a job and start my life to get the hell away from my family home. It was too toxic to be around.

**

I opened my eyes and remembered that I had gone to my room at some point during the night.

My Dad had discovered me watching TV and asked to chat. He’d told me my language and attitude toward my mother was out of line but he also agreed with me that I was an adult, but he too, worried for me.

And somehow, that I could handle. I could handle Dad being concerned about any choices I made when I was still generally unwell in my head. I could even handle my mother feeling like that, but I didn’t appreciate when she tried to go behind my back and make my father the bad guy.

“You can’t keep speaking like that to your Mama. She is having a very hard time with this as well and she is trying very hard.”

“Dad,” I told him angrily, “I’m so sorry that she’s having a hard time with my abuse, but you’ll have to forgive me for not feeling too bad about that. I don’t need to constantly be feeling guilty for her upset and shame over it—what about me, and what I feel?”

“This is something we will all need to work on as a family, Malania-chan can’t you see that? Your mother loves you so much.”

“I don’t care about anyone elses feelings right now, Dad, I’m trying so hard to get my mind around every single day. Michael is the one thing that actually makes sense to me and I’m going to protect that with everything that I have.”

My father looked at me with pity, I knew that look. I knew he agreed with me but he was trying so hard for my mother. “Sweetheart, Michael is a nice man, we like him but his life is very tumultuous right now, we are just worried. Please be careful.”

“Okay.” I accepted it. “But let me deal with it.”

I’d informed him that Michael was too exhausted to go home, that he’d be sleeping on the couch.

Michael was still asleep where I’d left him. I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable when he woke up, so I made sure I stayed close to the living room. He looked so sweet and peaceful, sleeping soundly with his hands beneath his head in a prayer-like position.

I could hear my mother in the kitchen making coffee or tea or something. I didn’t want to leave on bad terms and I hated that I kept snapping at her. My early morning resolve was a little less hateful and blaming, I always seemed to get a conscience about me after hurtful words were spoken.

“Mama?” I softly called out as I entered the kitchen. I knew since I’d been home, my presence had made her nervous. She was nervous that I was angry with her and nervous that I would snap at her – and for good reason, I’d been very snappy with her.

She looked up from the kitchen counter where she was stirring a pot of tea. Some of the nicest memories I’d had with my mother was drinking tea – the English way with her and playing card games with her. She always used to let me cheat and get away with it.

“Yes draga?” she just smiled at me. She always did, even when she was angry or sad or – nervous, she gave me her best. I did love her very much for that.

“Mama, I’m sorry,” I apologised.

She pretended to not know why. She looked so puzzled as if my apology could have knocked her over with a feather. “For speaking to you the way I did last night. I know you’re worried about me but you have no reason to be concerned.”

“Its okay.”

I hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. “I love you Mama.”

“I love you too my sweet heart.”

I smiled at her. “I’m going to wake Michael up,” I told her, “he will probably want to go home.”

Draga,” Mama said softly, lowering her voice, “I do like him, he is very nice to you, but I’m very afraid that when things get better for him, he might forget about you.”

I shook my head, “I don’t think that will happen,” I had considered that. I tried not to let my insecurities get a look in and was playing it day by day. “Michael really cares about me, I know that’s a fact.”

“Okay my sweet,” she murmured, “I am sorry that I overreacted when I saw him kiss you.”

I felt my cheeks blushing. “Mama,” I couldn’t help but tell her cheekily, “I asked him to kiss me.”

She looked at me stunned for a moment before she smiled too. I knew she was okay.

**

“Good morning…” I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear as I leaned over Michael, propping myself up on my hand beside his head, as if pinning him to the couch.

He grinned at me. What a sight, first thing in the morning, I thought. For the first time ever, since I’d known him truly as a friend, he struck me as being sexy.

Incredibly sexy.

He pointed to his lips as his grin dissolved slowly, “kiss me…” he commanded in a playful voice. I obliged him, my lips planting softly against his.

“Good morning to you too, bunny.”

“Bunny?” I laughed, “what the hell?”

“Its cute, don’t you think?” he asked, easing himself up, “that’s my new pet name for you, I’ve decided. Is it okay?”

I laughed again. “I’m not totally sure, but let’s see how it takes off.”

“Hey,” he said a bit seriously, settling back on the couch. I sat beside him, facing him with my legs crossed. I leaned my head on the cushion behind me.

“Hi…” I smiled.

He chuckled, “I just wanted to say thanks for letting me sleep here. I’m sorry for falling asleep on you, I was just so tired. And thank you for calling Carsen for me.”

“You’re welcome…” I smiled. “Will you stay here this morning and help me pack some things?”

“Okay. Were your folks alright that I stayed?”

“Of course, its fine.” I responded. I felt him playing with my hair absently as he did. I could see his mind wandering a little bit.

“Hey, do you think that I could take you out for breakfast this morning?” he asked, “I mean, it’ll be a bit impractical as is most eating-out experiences with me, but… I figure we can grab some food to go, like we did on the beach…”

I smiled thinking back to us hanging out at Pismo; one of the first glimpses of my beautiful, Michael. “I don’t care what we do, I just love hanging out with you alone.”

“Okay, great. Is your Mom up? I’ll go say good morning and call Carsen.”

**

Carsen found us a nice park not too far from my parents place, about 15 minutes away. At 8:45 in the morning, it was pretty crisp out, but the sun was shining.

We both had coffee and a turkey and cream cheese bagel thanks to Carsen. “Can you wait in the car, Malania and I might like to have a walk on our own, if you think its safe?”

“Sure, Mr. Jackson, I’ll keep an eye out for ya’ll.”

Michael held my coffee for me while I got out of the SUV. The park was pretty huge with a small little meadow to the left of it and a large, pine playground to the right. There was a small pergola directly ahead of us that remained empty – in fact, the whole park was.

We walked together slowly toward the pergola as if it were an unspoken decision to sit there. “Are you okay? Not too cold?” he wondered.

“I’m fine, thanks.” I smiled back at him. “How was your chat with my Mama?”

He chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, your Mom is a tough one, I’m not sure that she likes me.”

“Nah, she’s okay, she likes you, but she just likes me more. She’s never seen me with a man in any kind of romantic capacity. I think it freaks her out a bit,” I explained.

“Maybe she’ll warm to me eventually when you’re well and this case against me has gone away and she realises I’m serious about you,” he said casually, as if not realising the weight of his words.

We reached the bench beneath the pergola and sat down on the steel seat. The coldness of it sent chills almost to my bones, but since Michael didn’t complain, I didn’t either.

“I’m sure she will,” I replied, “don’t worry,” I added as I took a bite of bagel, setting down my coffee beside me.

He did too. It was a bit dry, but I didn’t mind. I liked that we were beside one another, hanging out in the fresh air, completely alone.

“So how are you feeling about going to the treatment facility?” he asked, sipping his coffee.

I shrugged. “I haven’t thought much about it this morning, but I also agree with what you said, the quicker I am done with it, the quicker I can be out.”

He smiled at me and nodded. “I think that’s definitely the kind of attitude you need to help get you through.”

We sat together, eating, watching a few ducks around the meadow. I knew we were both thinking about the week ahead and how we were going to deal.

Michael finished his bagel before me and picked his coffee back up, holding it in one hand. He slipped an arm around my shoulder and relaxed. “Will you come visit me?” I asked, turning to face him.

“Just try to keep me away…” he retorted with a little glint in his deep, chestnut eyes. I always found myself drowning in them. “I’ll be calling you as soon as you’re allowed to have calls and I’ll be speaking with the facility about getting to visit you in confidence.”

“Thanks Michael, I know its not entirely easy for you just to walk in, so I appreciate it.”

“You’re worth it…” he murmured. I smiled at him, regretting the fact that I even had to blink, not wanting to miss a second of him staring back at me. I summoned up the courage and kissed him without being asked, without asking him, just because I wanted to. I’d been working up the nerve since the previous morning, but in the end, I had bailed out and asked him.

His lips were slightly parted and a little cool from the wind. I felt his hand at my knee, just resting, but it zapped me full of goose bumps and tingles that made my heart want to explode in my chest.

When I pulled away just slightly, he rested his forehead against mine and stared at my lips for a moment. His eyes found mine and we shared a smile. “Yeah…” he nodded, pulling away from me, “you’re definitely worth it.”

“Coffee breath and all?”

“Who are you kidding?” He jibed me, finger in my ribs, “You kissed me first thing in the morning when I probably had foul morning breath.”

I smiled playfully, “Yeah, it was pretty rancid,” I joked, “but I wanted to be the bigger person and not make you feel bad about it.”

He laughed and swatted my hand away when I tried to tell him I was joking. “You are a cruel, cruel woman…”

I just winked at him and his laughing dissolved. We sat for awhile longer, finishing our coffees and cuddling beside each other while I lost feeling in my backside from the freeze of the seats. In the distance we saw a man walking his dog but we weren’t too phased.

“Do you like dogs?” I asked him curiously, watching the gorgeous golden retriever play fetch with his owner.

“Kinda, I’m a bit scared of them, honestly. I’m always scared of being bitten. When I was little, a German Shepard bit my hand cos I tried to pet him in the street.”

“Rookie mistake,” I told him, “I always wanted a dog but I was never allowed to because my mother had a similar experience to you,” I admitted. “But I wasn’t dumb enough to go around shoving my hand in the mouths of stray dogs…” I said with a shrug and a cheeky grin.

Michael cracked up. “You are so mean to me, Malania, and I just keep coming back for more.”

I laughed with him. I knew he meant it good-naturedly and he also knew I was kidding.  

“One day I’ll get you a dog and I’ll get myself over the fear. What kind of dog do you want?”

I thought for a moment and shrugged. “A rescue one. One that I’m saving from some crappy pound’s kill policy.”

“Yeah, I like that…we’ll do that some day, rescue some animals together.”

“Good,” I nodded, “I like that idea.”

“I know I haven’t said this yet, and its because I don’t want to make things harder than they are, but…” he began gingerly, changing the subject, “I’m actually going to miss you terribly.”

I was glad he said it. I felt like it was a little more one-sided. I slipped my arms around him, hugging him. I felt him reciprocate, giving me a little more warmth. “I needed to hear that.”

I felt his lips at my temple. “I’m going to write you something every night and give it to you when I see you. Or I’ll find out if you’re allowed to receive mail and I’ll get Carsen to drop you some things every night…”

“Will you write me a love-letter?” I half-joked.

“Would you like that?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. He was so cute. The perfect arch of his brow almost dared me to be honest.

“Maybe. I’ve never received a love-letter before,” I admitted. “Sounds deliciously cheesy, I’m up for it.”

He giggled. “Okay, I’ll see what I can muster up for you. We’ll take a photo before you leave today, looking at your picture can be my inspiration…”

I made a face. “Can I ask? When did you know you had deeper feelings for me?”

His amused smile faded and he answered way too fast for me to ever question those feelings. “The night when I took you to dinner and we got mobbed when we left… and remember, I had a bit of a tantrum over it all?”

I laughed and nodded.

“You gave me a dressing down over my mood and I realised how much I liked you. No one ever stands up to me. Your face was all frown-y and angry and determined not to let me leave without telling you how I was feeling.”

I stared at him for a moment as if to keep explaining. I was a bit confused.

“I know it doesn’t sound very romantic, but…” his voice trailed off slightly, “no one ever presses me for explanations. No one’s ever like, ‘Hey Mike, you’re upset, what’s wrong?’ it’s like they’re too afraid of opening a can of worms. When I’m sad or angry, unless I choose to share, no one ever asks… And you did, and the fact that I felt comfortable enough to actually tell you and trust you – it just made me realise that I really liked you.” I was about to say something, but then he added more, “During that whole thing, you showed me your heart, you showed me your compassion, your concern, your love, you were mad at first and then when you realised I was upset, your total behaviour changed and it was the sweetest thing… and not to mention the whole while looking casually beautiful.”

I let my lips spread in to the makings of a smile. I wanted to tell him that he was crazy, but I refrained. I knew it was insulting to smack back another person’s kind words or compliments.

I found myself hugging his arm, caressing his wrist absently. Sometimes he did the same with me, tracing patterns on my palm, or running his fingers through the tips of my hair, tickling my back. It was incredibly calming.

“Your cheeks are red…” he teased me. My mouth was hurting from smiling so hard, overwhelmed by him as I did seem to get at times.

I giggled and ducked my head bashfully. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed…although you look very cute with rosy cheeks,” he chuckled, rubbing my back and sliding his hand across to my shoulder, pulling me near him to kiss my head.

Once I’d gotten over it, I wanted to tell him. “When I was a kid, I wanted to marry you,” I told him frankly, “and then when I started meeting you that changed to a more realistic like for you… I knew it was unrealistic to even want to be your friend, so I was always just happy to say hello and every single time we met, you made me feel so special so that’s probably why I kept coming back.”

“I did?” he asked as if it were news to him. “How so?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, I can’t place it—you do just have that way about you. You never let a gorilla in a suit drag you off when you were chatting, you never hurried us along, you always acted like you had all the time in the world, even if you were due on stage five minutes ago. And you were always so lovely to me.”

He laughed. “That’s because you treated me like a human. No offence to Beth, but I always liked you more. I had time for you, maybe had she been on her own, I might not have had the time that you say I always had. You were honest and sweet and I remember one time, there was a fan I’d never met before and you pulled Beth back to give that guy in the chair a chance to come forward and say hello because you’d already had a turn. I stayed much longer with you guys for being so kind to him…”

I was surprised he remembered tiny details like that. I only vaguely recalled that occasion. Beth had yelled at me later about how we could have had more time with Michael if I’d not let the “little cripple” ahead of us. Beth was like that, she counted her minutes with him and would compare the time with the meeting before that.

“That’s funny, I don’t even really remember, but I remember the spray I got later from Beth about it.” I chuckled, “I can’t really place the time where my feelings changed… but maybe that night too, when you sweetly invited me in to your bed in a way that seemed almost too shy. You were afraid I was going to freak out and think you meant it in a sleazy way.”

“Oh yeah…” he laughed, “but I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“That was a bad night.” I agreed, “I hadn’t had a nightmare like that for years… I love how you care for me, maybe for the same reasons you said. I’ve never shared anything like that with anyone and I don’t really feel like I have to hold anything back with you. It’s a relief.”

He smiled.

“And this…” I nodded at his giant hands that were both clasped around one of mine, warming it from the morning breeze, “and this,” I reached up with my free hand, brushing my fingers across his cheeks, pausing to kiss his lips, “you are probably the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen… I love looking at your face… and your smile…” I murmured. “Your smile has always, always made me weak at the knees…”

He was laughing now, his turn to blush and try to bat my compliments away. We were both smiling at each other.

“Well… its good that our feelings are sorted…” he said with a little sigh.

“It helps to know where I stand with you so that when I’m away I won’t go in to internal melt-down questioning things,” I admitted.

“Nope, I don’t want you to worry about us,” he said quickly. “We are fine and we will be fine. I’ll be waiting for you. We don’t have a conventional relationship, Bunny, but we never will and I hope you’re okay with that.”

I chuckled at his use of his new pet name. I thought it was kinda cute. I was okay with it. “Conventional is boring anyway,” I shrugged.

He stood up, “come on,” he outstretched a hand, “my butt is freezing and I can only imagine yours is too, I should take you home and help you pack.”

“Okay,” I smiled, taking his hand.

**

The tension had been in the air, it was just a matter of time before it happened. Before I knew it, I was wedged in to the corner of the black SUV, forgetting entirely about Carsen up front. I didn’t care that my head was hitting the window. Where Michael’s safety belt was, was nobody’s business anymore.

A seemingly innocent kiss, soft and polite as usual had escalated in to… this. I had a hand on my upper thigh. He kissed me hard and passionately, but I could tell he was holding himself back a little. I steadied his face with my palm and gripped on to the back of his shirt with my other hand.

I groaned involuntarily arching my back as his tongue dove in to my mouth. I briefly remembered Carsen. I felt him squeeze my thigh, just inches from cupping my butt. He drew away and then kissed me again, teasing me. His lips were soft and wet, but his kisses were full of urgency. At first his increase in force and intensity made me nervous, but I yielded myself to his power and consoled myself that it was okay.

He slipped a hand behind my head, aware that it was knocking against the window as we kissed. I ran the tip of my tongue against his lower lip and felt him grip me again. I felt him smile above my mouth.

I always felt that I was incredibly inexperienced and if I ever met a man, he would surely be able to tell and would be turned off. But, I found that it all came pretty naturally. I would learn, I would follow his lead, and I was happy to do that.

Michael slipped his hand up to my waist and stroked a tiny bit of bare skin that peaked out from beneath my t-shirt that must have rode up in the heat of the moment. I almost jumped a mile, but I reminded myself to just relax.

I think he realised too. His open-mouthed, velvety, sugar-y kisses slowed until he finally pressed his lips together, holding them momentarily against mine. He pulled away slowly and opened his eyes to gaze at me.

We both smiled. He pulled me out of the weird position I was in against the car door. He smoothed my hair in to place again with a little chuckle. I did the same for him too, I had enjoyed running my hands through his hair.

“Sorry…” he murmured softly, “I got a bit carried away.”

I gave him a funny look. “I didn’t tell you to stop…” I reminded him with a laugh. We talked very softly, almost in whispers, not wanting Carsen to hear us.

He took my hand in his lap and laced his fingers through mine. “Yep, I’m gonna miss you like crazy,” he said with a sigh.

Even though I hated the idea of being away from him – and that his words seemed to pummel me in the heart; I was glad he said it.

Chapter 34 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Ok here we go, a new chapter. Please review and let me know if you loved it, hated it etc. I don't mind constructive critisisms :) 

I decided I couldn’t just leave without literally seeing her to the door of the treatment facility. We had hugged and kissed and said goodbye, but I wasn’t ready to just let that be that.

“Carsen, I need you to take me shopping,” I told him as I got in to the front, riding shot-gun, it wasn’t something I normally did, but I decided to start doing things a bit different.

“No problem, boss. Where are we headed?”

“Tiffany & Co,” I told him with certainty. “Let’s go to the Rodeo Drive store,” I added.

“Mr. Jackson, do you think it’ll be okay to do that without extra security?” he asked.

“You can call me Michael,” I told him as I drummed my fingers absently on the dashboard. I glanced at the phone, “You think you could get some extra back up security to meet us there and maybe let the store know we are coming?”

“Sure, Michael.” I watched him pick up the phone and make up few calls.

**

We walked in to the store; I had my sunglasses on, avoiding the direct stares of the general shoppers who were stunned to see me. The three guards that I had with me stood around me in a kind of force field and disallowed too many people from getting close to me.

“Michael!” someone shouted from a few meters, “I believe you!”

I was startled by the admission that I couldn’t help but to smile. I looked up and regarded the heavy-set woman with wave and I called to thank her. Tiffany & Co was quite up-market that the people shopping were few and the store assistants tried their best to act professional.

“Mr. Jackson, what can we help you with today?” a silver-haired middle-aged man asked, standing before me.

I thought for a moment, “hmm I’m looking for something delicate…” I imagined what would like nice on Malania. I didn’t want to go over the top like I had in the past with extravagant gifts. I knew she was a no-nonsense girl, so she probably would have appreciated something that she could get daily wear out of. “A necklace or a bracelet,” I added.

“Would you be requiring diamonds?” he asked. I knew that he assumed because I was Michael Jackson and loaded with money to the wazoo, I would be looking to spend a lot of money.

“No, I don’t think so…”

He guided my troop to a selection of necklaces. I smiled, realising he had also assumed it was for me.

“No, not for me,” I told him, “its for a birthday gift for a female friend,” I lied.

He smiled, “Oh, forgive me, Mr. Jackson,” he gushed, “let me show you our range of necklaces for that special lady in your life.”

“Friend,” I corrected him, not wanting anyone to catch on that it might be Malania.

“Okay, this is our range… if you see anything, I’m happy to take it out of the case for a closer look.”

I looked beneath a glass display box about four or five different sterling silver chains. Instantly I knew which one I wanted. It had the traditional Tiffany & Co heart charm. It was quite long with a thin chain. “That’s it, that’s the one.” I looked to Carsen, “What do you think?”

He seemed surprised that I cared for his opinion. “Its nice boss, I think she will like it.”

“Great choice Mr. Jackson,” the sales assistant said, “would you like to browse anything else?”

I looked around to a gathering crowd and I was keen to leave and go back to Malania’s house. “No, that’s fine thank you.”

We paid for the necklace and had it wrapped and boxed nicely. The extra security huddled me off back to our SUV and followed us behind in another car to evade rubber-neck followers. Eventually when we were sure no one was following, they veered off and left us to it.

“Boss, its nice to see you looking a bit happier,” Carsen commented, “I hope that ain’t out of line.”

I smiled, “Thanks Carsen and no, its not out of line.”

“She’s a nice girl, I like her – even though that probably doesn’t count for much—what I think.”

“It counts…” I replied, “she’s a nice change from the last one…” I joked.

“Diane?” he asked. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him getting too personal with me, but I was sick of always having to mind what I said in case it got leaked.

“Yeah… this is just … right.” I told him, “she’s imperfect in the most perfect way…” I realised I didn’t sound macho, but I didn’t care.

“So we going back to her place?” he asked me. I nodded.

“Yeah, she has to go away for a week, so I want to give her this gift before she goes.”

I also had an idea of what I could do while she was away. It was something that I’d have to ask her mother about.

We arrived back to her neighbourhood and soon we were pulling up. “Boss, be careful, make sure nobody sees you.” Carsen called out. There was no one out on the street, just a guy about 6 houses down, watering his yard. I didn’t want to seem too suspicious. If I casually got out, no one would suspect that the visitor to the Nakamura household was Michael Jackson.

Helena answered the door and looked surprised to see me. Never-the-less she smilled. She looked almost as if she could pass as Malania’s grandmother. Her thinning, silver hair was woven tightly in to a bun that sat low at the base of her head and the lines of her face showed the years of stress of having to battle a son as troubled as hers.

“Hi Mrs. Nakamura,” I smiled back. “Sorry to intrude again, but would it be okay if I was able to see Malania?”

She whisked me inside off the street. “Malania is in her bedroom just finishing the packing, you can go up if you’d like…”

“Great thanks… actually, can I ask you a question?”

She nodded, surprised. I lowered my voice and looked up at the staircase that was to the left of the entryway. I wanted to make sure Malania wasn’t around to hear. “While Malania is away, would you be able to take you up on that offer to teach me to cook?”

I saw a sudden brightness in her mother’s expression – as if cooking was her number one passion after her children and husband.

In my life, I always thought it would be wonderful to have a traditional wife who waited for me at home with our children – who didn’t need to lift a finger, because I could take care of her – but in that moment, my mind changed. Malania said nothing about her mother as a person, only her love for her children, cooking and being a house-wife. I wanted more for my wife. I am sure she was happy, but a life of cleaning up after everyone that I loved and cooking for them?

Malania – or whoever it was that I decided to marry – and I needed to not let myself get carried away as I usually did, deserved to have more to her life than that. She decided to have lots of friends, a lifestyle away from me and any children we might have, so that we could really talk and share the separate parts of our lives with each other.

“I’d be delighted, Michael, that would make me very happy.”

“Excellent,” I grinned, “thank you. Can I call later tonight so we can arrange a time? I’d like to surprise Malania when she gets home so that I can make dinner for her…”

“Yes Michael,” she grinned too, I knew she liked the idea that I was going to effort to impress her daughter, “that would be fine.”

“Thank you…” I waved at Malania’s father who appeared in the doorway.        “I’m back,” I smiled. I felt pretty comfortable with her father because he was totally friendly and nice to me, he made it easy to chat.

“Nice to see you again so soon,” he told me, “Malania is upstairs, I trust you didn’t come to visit us.”

I looked to Helena, “well not this visit,” I replied, “but maybe in a few days.” He saw the exchange between his wife and I and nodded as if picking up on something.

“Michael-san, would you like to join us when we take Malania to the treatment center? I wanted to ask you earlier, but it did slip my mind,” he offered.

I almost smiled at his use of honorific in front of my name the way he did when he spoke to his daughter. I weighed up the risks involved. “Well, sure…” I accepted the offer, “but I probably won’t get out of the car, for… obvious reasons. But I’ll speak with Malania and make sure that its what she wants.”

“Okay Michael-san, whatever you think,” he replied.

“Okay, I’ll go speak with Malania now if that’s okay.” I felt my jacket-pocket to make sure the necklace was still inside in the aqua blue Tiffany & co box. I climbed the stairs slowly, wanting to surprise her. When I reached the landing, I approached her room with a smile. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar and she was listening to a Roxette song. I didn’t pick her for the type.

Everytime I see you I just try to hide away, but when we meet it’s just I can’t let go!

I was about to push her door open and announce my presence when my eyes fell upon her sitting on the edge of a chair, her back arched as if she were holding something, or looking at something, but I realised what was happening. “Hey!” I called, my voice low, with urgency. Surprising her, a razor tumbled out of her hands and fell to the floor; clean. “Don’t do that! Stop!” I hissed.

She whirled around, “Michael!” she exclaimed, startled, trying to place her foot over the razor, but it was too late, “what are you doing here?”

“Saving you as usual,” I mumbled, closing the door quickly behind her. I could see she’d been crying. There was a suitcase open on her bed. I felt really disappointed in her, but I knew it to be more of a sickness; an addiction and something that helped her cope with her stress.

“You scared the crap out of me,” she exclaimed again, showing annoyance rather than happiness to see me.

“I scared the razor out of you…” I retorted. She grimaced, still looking upset with me. “Malania, come on… Just talk to me.”

She dropped the ignorant act, she stopped pretending I hadn’t found her, avoiding my blunt comments, instead she looked at me and scowled. “I. don’t. want. To. Go. To. Treatment.” She spoke in fragmented sentences, trying to keep from showing too much emotion.

I got up and turned her music down a little bit so that it still drowned out our conversation so as no one could eavesdrop and hear what I’d just caught her about to do.

“Did you cut?” I asked point-blank.

“No, you just caught me,” she murmured.

“Well, this is why you need to go to treatment. I know you don’t want to, I don’t want you to either, but this is for the best, Malania, I don’t want to ever walk in on you doing this again. I don’t want it to be the way that you deal. I don’t want someone that I care about to harm herself when talking to me is another option. You deserve to be better to yourself than this.”

She wiped a tear away.

“Move your foot,” I told her, crouching down, tapping her calf, “I’ll be taking that razor to the garbage. You are not taking it with you.”

I picked it up carefully and put it in the garbage. I knew it was safe, I’d be with her until she left.

“Why did you come back?” she asked wiping her eyes.

“Because, I didn’t want to see you off the way I did. I wanted it to be more special,” I told her, but in all honesty, my romantic gesture was foreshadowed by her self-harm attempt. “I wanted to be more spontaneous.”

“And now I’ve disappointed you… Good job, Malania.”

I sat down on her bed and patted a spot beside me. “Come over here…” I outstretched my hand. With reluctance, she took it, and let me guide her next to me. “Forget it, okay? I’m glad I came when I did. I’m not disappointed, but I’d lie if I said I wasn’t frustrated with you; but that’s not your fault…”

She avoided my eyes as usual. I took her hand in both of mine and kissed her fingertips. “I’m only frustrated because I wish you’d see how beautiful you are and how much you deserve. I want only amazing things for you, no one has ever really give me their heart the way you have…or won mine the way you have…” I admitted to her, “and I you just really need to see that… and I think with treatment, you will.”

She breathed in and exhaled slowly, as if she was composing herself. “I know how much my parents love me, Michael, my Mom loves me in the most infinite way she knows how, but… the way that you treat me, it feels too kind, sometimes I don’t know how to handle it.”

I ran my fingers through her hair from the crown of her head slowly and absently. Her hair was so soft and so long.

“Trust me, I’ve been there. Your Mom and My Mom have some likeness, sweetheart, self-worth isn’t something either of them have ever been good at instilling in to us because they don’t possess a great deal of it themselves… but you make me feel worthy every single day and I only want to be able to make you feel like that too.”

“You do… but then when you’re not with me, it hits me again… how awful I feel in my own skin,” she admitted almost in a whisper.

It was probably the most real conversation we’d ever had.

“And that’s why treatment will be good. I know I can make you feel full of self-worth, but I want you to be able to feel that all the time, without me blowing your trumpet all day long.”

She began to giggle at my purposely silly expression. I smiled too. She knew I was right.

“Thank you…” she said finally, glancing up to look me in the eyes. Her beautiful chocolate eyes searched mine for a second. I glanced at her soft, pink, moist lips and kissed them gently and lingeringly. I watched her as she opened her eyes slowly as if savouring the moment.

And that was the moment for me; in that very moment I fell in love with her.

My soul was afloat and my skin felt tingly and the warmth in her smile with the glint of clear film covering her eyes made my heart want to overflow with emotion and affection and I wanted to be near to her, so near that I could feel her heart beat against mine and could smell the freshness of her soft skin beneath mine.

I fell in love with each part of separately; her heart first, her mind second, her body third and then together, completely all at once, I loved her.

I almost became emotional myself, but I reeled myself back. I was never one for showing my cards prematurely; especially not while she was in such a state; I felt like I was in too much of an advantageous position, I felt like she might tell me something that was in the heat of the moment that didn’t reflect her more sober state of mind.

“Always…” I mumbled in reply.

I let go of her hands and reached in to my jacket pocket. “I actually got you something,” I felt my hands shaking a little with my sudden interior revelation and sluggishly worked to gather my composure.

“What?”

“Just a small gift, Carsen and I have been shopping this afternoon…” I smiled at her, “I saw this and I was like, ‘Malania needs to have this’, I feel like you’ll like it.” She didn’t wear much jewellery save for a silver band on her right thumb and a tiny silver diamond ring on her middle finger on the same hand.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw the Tiffany & co box. “Michael, no, you didn’t need to…”

“Can you be less stubborn when I want to buy things for you, please, the less resistance, the better, I hate arguing over gifts… accept it,” I told her in a half-serious way. Secretly I was glad that she didn’t expect anything of material value from me, it made me more inclined to want to adorn her with gifts.

“Here,” I handed her the box, “open it…”

She looked up at me with a smile, gingerly taking the box. “Michael, are you serious, you are too generous…”

I laughed, she hadn’t even pulled the ribbon off it yet. I loved how excited she was. “Don’t speak too soon, it might just be cuff-links that I bought for myself and wanted your opinion on,” I joked.

She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes as if to mock-anger, but she didn’t mean it. I watched her pull the hem of the ribbon from the box and carefully place it down beside her as if she might want to reuse it.

She opened the lid of the box and about gasped at the necklace. “Michael, this is beautiful, thank you…” She lifted the Tiffany & co flat heart charm out, realising how long it was. “I love it, I love that the chain is really fine.”

“Really, its okay? This is the first time I’ve personally bought jewellery for a girl I like, you know…” I told her with a little embarrassment, “so if its not okay, you can be honest, I’d prefer you have something you love.”

“Quiet,” she told me, “I love this, its perfect.” She leaned over and kissed my mouth, almost throwing me off-guard, “thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“Do you want to wear it?” I asked her, that was the real test. If she wanted to put it back in the box for special occasions, I knew it meant that she didn’t really like it.

“Um, of course,” she exclaimed sarcastically, “can you?” she passed it to me and turned her back to me. I carefully unclipped the clasp and encircled it around her delicately, clipping it at the back of her hair. I lifted her dark tresses that tumbled down, over her shoulders and felt her pulling it forward so that the chain sat at the base of her smooth neck. I couldn’t help myself, I leaned over and kissed her nape, tantalised by the scent of her rich perfume. 

I felt her surprise by my kiss, but she didn’t jerk away, though I did see the immediate rise of goose bumps on the surface of her skin. I gently let go of her hair, smoothing it down as she turned back to me.

“Thank you so much…” she closed the empty box and let the heart dangle just above her breast.

“I know this might sound cheesy, but… I wanted to give you my heart… This…” I leaned forward, picking up the heart charm, “is a bit symbolic; my heart with you while you’re away… if you struggle, you know I’m with you when I physically can’t be. Okay?” I felt my cheeks growing hot, wondering how she would take it.

She took it from me and held it for a moment in the palm of her hands, looking at it. She enclosed her fingers around it and pulled the neck of the long-sleeved shirt she was wearing, dropping the heart and letting it disappear in to the abyss of her undergarments. “Thank you, Michael,” she said in a serious and sincere tone once her attention had been focused back upon me, “that’s the nicest gesture anyone could have made.”

I wanted to tell her it was because I loved her.

I wanted to put it all on the line.

I held back because I promised we would take things one day at a time and I knew that wasn’t just beneficial for her, but also for me. I wondered how it was that I was bestowed such an amazing blessing in my life when the rest of it was sheer turmoil.

I interiorly praised God; or the universe, or whatever force was responsible for sending Malania my way. She made me feel like I was enough. Her responses to everything I offered her were so perfect. She made just the right amount of fuss without being over-the-top or being without being so underwhelmed by my gestures that she made me wonder why I bothered.

My mother always told me that God’s timing was perfect and in that moment I truly believed it.

“You’re welcome… I meant every word of it.

**

When we drove in to the treatment facility, I was suitably impressed. It looked like a fancy kind of day-spa. Malania’s fingers were laced through mine nested between the small space between us in the back seat of my SUV. It was the only way we could all fit. George sat at the front and Helena sat on Malania’s other side; she too was clutching her hand.

I noticed the closer she was to getting out, the harder she clenched my hand.

“You all good?” I asked, noticing that she was a bit calmer and had more of a resolve that she was going to give it her best shot at getting better. I was glad to hear that. The thought of me having to monitor her behaviours constantly was a great concern. It wasn’t something that would be a deal breaker, but I knew that in order for us to have a proper, functioning relationship, she’d need to be at her best; as did I.

She nodded. “Yeah, I am…”

I squeezed her hand; it was our silent, private communication. She squeezed back. It allowed me to know she was telling the truth.

“Maybe you’ll make some friends…” Helena remarked as if she really were going to a day spa. It was a daft, thoughtless comment and I knew she didn’t mean any harm by it, but I almost clapped my hand against my forehead.

Her mother was very, very sweet, but I was aware she had almost zero idea of how to be helpful in a situation that required emotional support. Malania said nothing in response. I knew she was irritated by the comment, but she let it go as she did with most ways that her mother upset her.

“Is this okay here, guys?” Carsen asked. He pulled to a halt right in front of the reception area.

George told him it was fine. Both of her parents slid out of the car. The door remained open for Malania, and Helena looked at her expectantly.

“Give them a moment,” George urged her, pulling her away and leaning to close the door for a second.

“Dad gets it…” she murmured, “Mama has no idea half of the time, I’m sure.”

I just smiled. I wanted to remain neutral on all matters relating to her parents. “Well, this is it, my heart…” I told her.

Her lips upturned in to a smile as well. “I like that,” she told me, “your heart…” she repeated.

“You are,” I replied, confirming it as I unclipped her safety belt. She had turned in to face me. We shared an exchange as I stroked her hair that framed her face. She rarely had it tied back these days. “You’re my heart…”

“You’re mine too, you know,” she informed me.

“That’s good to know, I’ll hold on to that, you know… while you’re away,” I told her. “I need you to be strong, okay?”

She nodded. “You too, Michael, please be strong this week, regardless… Think of me…”

“I will… now, you go in there and you show them how serious you are about recovery and when you come out when you’re done in eight weeks, you’ll be on fire with confidence and self-worth. And I believe in you, okay?”

I noticed she was getting a little teary, so I decided to cut it short. “Come on, give me a hug…” I urged her.

She slipped her arms around me and I gripped her tightly. “You’re okay, Malania, I promise…” I kissed her temple and waited for her to loosen her embrace. When she did, we shared a series of short, soft kisses.

“See you soon, okay? As soon as you’re allowed, you call me sweetheart, okay? And I’ll come see you…”

“Okay.” she nodded bravely, “see you…”

And then she slipped out of the car and in to the reception before I knew it.

It was going to be a lo-ong week.

Chapter 35 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Please leave a review if you like this story :)

Sorry if Ive been slow to reply to your reviews btw. I just have limited time to post these chapters, but I promise I will get to it and I love to read them so much!! 

Chapter 35

I didn’t sleep.

Someone went through every item in my suitcase; they checked pockets and under my shoe soles, in socks and in every possible hiding place for anything sharp, or what they called ‘contraband’, as though I was in a fucking prison.

Well, I suppose it was a bit like that.

I was grateful for the room on my own; I half expected to have to share. There was an empty bed beside me which I was only praying wouldn’t end up with someone in it. It was a nice space that I had and the bed was a little more comfortable than anything I’d been subjected to at the hospital.

My parents had been subjected to an hour long grilling of my history of self-harm and injury. I felt for Michael who had to sit in the car and wait. He didn’t mind though, he was a good sport.

I had to sign a contract agreeing not to self-harm for the duration of my treatment. I signed it with a good attitude; I felt like with Michael’s words and the love he had for me, I could do anything.

I held on tightly to the piece of jewellery around my neck. The admitting nurse had tried to dissuade me from bringing it inside the treatment facility. She argued that it could be used as a weapon, or that I could harm myself with it – and when I argued back, she tried to use a different tactic—that it might be stolen by other inpatients.

“Please,” I cried, growing tearful, “my boyfriend gave this to me as a gift before I came, so that I could keep it with me, to keep him with me while I was here… Please don’t make me leave it with my parents.” It was the first time I’d referred to Michael as my boyfriend and if he was there, I probably wouldn’t have had the balls to, but I was guessing that’s what we were to each other.

She seemed to take pity on me, “I’ve signed the contract, I don’t want to harm myself, I just want to get through this and get better.” I wasn’t lying, I wasn’t acting, I was being honest.

I knew from then on this valuable gift Michael gave me would be used as currency against me – I would lose it as a punishment if I did something wrong. The nurse was empathetic and let me keep it on me.

I tried to sleep and I imagined Michael back at his Hidden Hills apartment trying to sleep as well. I tossed and turned and kept thinking over the surreal conversation that took place before we left for this wellness centre.

‘you have my heart…

Nowhere in my wildest dreams did I ever expect those words to be spoken to me by any man, much less Michael Jackson. He was the very same Michael Jackson that I took solace in as a troubled teen.

His hands on my shoulders, through my hair, his lips at my neck, the warmth in his smile – everything about him made me feel like I was soaring.

I loved him so much, with every little fibre inside of me. I wanted to tell him, but I was also scared of rejection. I was afraid of loving him more than he loved me, or making a fool or myself.

I didn’t want him to realise that I wasn’t as special as he originally felt, I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I needed to protect myself to a degree.

My sleep was broken and I had a headache, but I was forced out of bed by a nurse who came in to inspect my room and do a clinical examination. She seemed happy to know everything was in order.

“Am I going to get a room mate?” I asked curiously, my eyes darting to the empty bed.

“Not at this stage,” she replied, “We’ve decided to give you some privacy.” I didn’t know exactly why that was, but I didn’t question it.

“Okay Malania, I’m going to accompany you in your morning tasks and then to breakfast now. I’ll introduce you to some of the other patients.”

“Okay,” I replied, feeling a little anxious about mixing with other crazy people. I wasn’t like them, I’d told myself, I was getting better, it was just a bump in the road, but I was otherwise fine. I could still function, most of the other patients probably couldn’t.

I went to get up to use the bathroom. I tried to push it open, but realised that it was still locked. The nurse was trailing behind me. “Um,” I smiled, “I’ve got this.”

“This is procedure,” she said, leaning over and using a key from her lanyard to open the door. “You’ll need to buzz us if you want access to the bathroom.”

“What?” I asked with a laugh, “seriously? What if I need to pee and its an emergency.”

“You’ll press the buzzer by your bed or you’ll come and use the toilet by the nurses station,” she informed me, not in a rude way, but more factual and no part of her was kidding.

I said nothing until she let herself in to the bathroom behind me. “I need privacy, I have to go to the toilet.”

“There’s no privacy afforded to you at this point, Malania, it was in the guidelines. Our first priority is a duty of care to you and to make sure you’re not going to try to injure yourself in any way.”

“So wait, you’re going to watch me urinate?” I asked with disbelief. I felt my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“I’m just accompanying you, I am not watching you, I’m just here to make sure you keep safe.”

I breathed in deeply. I tried to be as brave as Michael had been when he was told he needed to partake in a strip search and photograph. I tried to zone her out and go about my business but I lost a fair amount of dignity there in that bathroom.

When I was done, I flushed and headed back in to the room to get my toothbrush and shower amenities.

I was given a towel and a washcloth that was surprisingly soft and smelled nice. “Do you have to watch me shower?” I asked, hating the idea of someone seeing me naked. I was incredibly insecure about my body.

“I’m not going to be watching you, Malania, I’m just standing here to make sure you keep safe.”

For the first time since I’d arrived, I felt myself becoming worked up. The blonde nurse looked just a little bit older than me, but not by much. Her blue eyes watched me like a hawk. She reminded me slightly of Beth. My eyes were quickly filled with tears that I tried to blink back.

My mind ran rampant with stupid thoughts. If I wasn’t able to stand naked before someone who didn’t really care how I looked one way or another, how did I ever expect that I would be able to be intimate with Michael? The very thought of him touching any part of my usually-clothed areas made me feel a tightness in my throat and chest.

“I can’t…” I murmured, my voice cracking with emotion, “I can’t do this…”

“What is it, Malania?” she asked me in a softer, much more compassionate voice.

I let myself fall back on to the bed. I held my face in my hands—a contrast to the bravery that I’d gone to bed with.

“I don’t want to shower with someone watching me, I don’t want to toilet myself with someone watching me, I can’t… I’m not comfortable with it.”

She sat down beside me. “I can give you some good news honey, today is going to be the hardest day that you’ll endure here, alright?” she promised, “but its also bad news because you’re only just starting your day.” She gave me a smile but my mind was still fixated on the very moment Michael and I were making out in the back of the SUV and I’d freaked out the second he reached for the skin beneath my shirt.

I could hardly breathe thinking that maybe I’d given him hope that we’d be able to have a normal relationship. I felt like I’d led him on, made a giant mistake.

“Breathe, Malania,” she coached me, “you’re getting worked up.”

“I can’t…” I choked on air, “I can’t do this, I need to call someone to get me,” I told her with urgency, “I’ve made a mistake.” I went to get up but the nurse took my hand.

“Just sit down for a few minutes and lets talk about this, okay?” she urged me, “first of all, lets get your breathing under control.”

For the next few moments she helped me turn my gasps for air in to a regular breathing pace.

“I want to go home. This is the longest I’ve gone without talking to him…”

“Who?”

Michael and I decided that I would continue calling him Peter in conversations. We didn’t need everyone knowing about him. If I needed to talk about him in one-on-one therapy, I was allowed to use his name because it was strictly confidential; but outside of that, Peter it was.

“Peter…” I mumbled.

She smiled at me again, “Is that your boyfriend?”

I nodded, “I think so.”

She didn’t press me for more information. “Malania, lets get you showered, okay?” she tried to motivate me. “I won’t look at you, I will stand in the room and I’ll look out the window, I’ll give you as much privacy as I’m allowed to give you.”

“Okay,” I murmured, knowing I wasn’t about to get out of the rules just because I was a newbie.

**

I tried not to make eye contact with anyone as Cassie, the nurse who had been assigned to me, walked by me down the corridor. I liked her. She was nice to me and was compassionate and kind. It was a slow process, but we warmed to each other quite quick after I gotten the shower part over with.

The dining area was more elaborate than I expected it to be. There were groups of young women filling every single table. I wanted to eat alone, I didn’t really want a bar of anyone else.

I filled a plate with an egg and a slice of soggy toast. “Where do I sit?” I asked Cassie, “I don’t want to sit with anyone else.”

“C’mon, you don’t want to live this whole experience on your own, I’ll introduce you to some of these lovely girls here…” she had been guiding me over to a group of three women.

They all looked at me expectantly and I wanted nothing more than to shrink away. I realised that besides Beth, I’d never really had any friends that I socialised with outside of school. I’d never known what it was like to have a best friend. Beth and I affectionately called each other best friends, but once Michael was out of the equation, we had nothing in common.

“This is Malania, she arrived last night.” I held my tray of food, feeling like it was my first day at elementary school, “do you think you could show her the ropes a bit?”

“Sure,” a girl smiled at me warmly. I don’t know why I was surprised. They all looked normal; just like me. I somehow expected to see mentally incapacitated people all around me, drooling and babbling incoherently.

“Malania,” Cassie nodded to each girl; extending her hand, gesturing to each one so as to introduce. “This is Melissa, Julia and Peyton.”

Peyton was the one who spoke, who happened to also be Asian. She pulled out a chair beside her for me. “Here you go, take a seat.”

Cassie smiled at me, “Okay, I’ll leave you with the girls and I’ll be back after meals,” she informed me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“Big day, huh?” Melissa empathised with me. She had mousey brown hair and looked a little frail.

“A lot to get used to,” I replied with a weak smile.

“So where are you from?” Peyton asked casually, “did you get through morning rounds okay?”

The other girl, Julia, laughed at the questions fired at me. “Pey, give the girl a break, she just sat down, she looks bewildered, the poor thing…” It was almost a little patronising, but it could have been worse. The crazies I’d imagined running around the place would have been much worse.

“I’m from Fountain Valley and yeah, I got through everything okay… Thanks.” I lied.

“Sorry,” Peyton apologised. She had hair the same colour as mine, we were the same thin build and probably the same height. However, she looked as though she were Korean or Chinese, I had very Japanese features about me, my father used to comment on how my eyes were more Japanese than his. The only thing that I really got from my mother was my facial structure and my high cheekbones. “Its just exciting when someone new comes in, it can get really boring in here, sorry girls,” she flashed a smile at Julia and Melissa.

It really did feel like school.

“Its okay.” I started to concentrate on my food. The girls spoke to each other but I could tell they wanted to ask me more questions.

“You are really lucky that you got Cassie, she is one of the nicest nurses here…” Melissa told me, “she bought me more wool the other day because I ran out and it’ll be a week before my Mom comes to visit again.”

“Mel is a serial-knitter,” Julia informed me. I just smiled. “We got taught how to do it in art-therapy, Mel is the only one who actually kept on with it.”

Peyton was grinning at her two friends, “I don’t mind, I got some cute little mittens out of it.”

“So…” Melissa folded her arms across the table and pushed the barely touched tray of food away from her, “what are you in for—no wait, can we guess? I love guessing!”

Brutal, I thought. But I was intrigued, I was sure they’d pick me for being anorexic or a unspecified eating disorder—I wasn’t that skinny, but I knew that as far as eating disorders were concerned, skinny wasn’t always a fair indicator.

“Guess away…” I muttered wryly. I wasn’t in to this, I just wanted to eat my breakfast, which wasn’t half bad.

“Bi-polar!” Peyton suggested. I shook my head.

“Bulimic, you’re definitely bulimic,” Peyton told me as if it were a fact and suddenly I realised I didn’t like her. She had looked me up and down as if trying to decide and it unnerved me.

“Nope. I’m not bulimic and I don’t have an eating disorder,” I replied, clearing my throat.

“Suicide attempt…” Julia remarked in a quiet voice and I realised she had spied the scar on the inside of my wrist that I usually kept covered with my watch. I liked her the most. She was trying to be respectful.

“Bingo, close enough,” I replied emotionlessly as I took a sip of green tea.

As if the conversation had suddenly grown too intense, the girls went back to gossiping about an inpatient who was on day release. I was glad for the shift of attention. I ate my breakfast as fast as I could. Cassie had informed me that after breakfast I was allowed to go back to my room or hang out in a common area to watch TV.

I wanted to be alone. I wanted to finish the book Michael had loaned me and I wanted to write to him. I wanted to draw something for him.

Other patients looked at me as they passed and I was sure it was just because I was fresh meat.

At 1pm, I was informed that I had a one-on-one psych appointment and there were scheduled activities for some of the afternoon.

I didn’t really care, I just wanted to go to my room and try to sleep and write or draw.

I wondered how Michael was doing and if he was thinking of me as well. I let my thoughts drift away back to our conversation the day before. It was almost as if something had changed; something in his voice and in his eyes as he spoke to me.

I had never seen him as intense and as acute in the points he was trying to make.

Once I’d finished my breakfast, I excused myself to go and put the plate and cutlery in to the waste area. I went past the nurses station to refill my tea. “Am I able to take this back to my room?” I asked Cassie who was beside another nurse overlooking some charts.

“Oh, you’re done with breakfast so soon?” she asked.

I nodded, “Yes, am I able to go back to my room now?”

“Sure, you don’t want to hang out with the girls?” she questioned me, putting the chart down. “I’ll be back soon to check in with Hayley,” she informed the other nurse.

“No, I’d just like to be on my own for now.”

She accepted that, “You can take the tea with you, come on.” I was confused as to why she was again trundling along side me to my room.

“Do you have to watch me on my alone time too?” I asked.

“Just monitoring you after your food, its policy, once I’m satisfied you’re not displaying any dangerous tendencies, I won’t need to.”

“I don’t have an eating disorder,” I told her, “I’m here because of self-injury.”

“Your hospital reports did say otherwise, you went on a self-imposed hunger strike and then vomited up when you did actually eat.”

“I vomited because I had a traumatic experience that was completely unrelated to food,” I argued. “Anyway,” I sighed, “I don’t mind you watching me sleep,” I smiled a little, this time it wasn’t forced.

Cassie laughed.

“It’s a bit creepy, I’ll admit, but whatever you have to do…” I joked.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you genuinely smile since you got here, you’ve got a great smile.”

I remembered Michael telling me the same thing. That little thought made me want to burst with joy.

Back in my room, I asked to use the bathroom. Her key unlocked it and she allowed me back in and stood to the side, giving me privacy – as much as I could get sharing a bathroom with another person.

I came out and climbed back in to bed, picking up a journal that Michael had given me back when I was in hospital. I opened it up to write something and a piece of paper fell out.

I picked it up and unfolded it, surprised.

I forgot that Cassie was sitting on a chair, watching me. I grinned to myself, remembering that Michael had picked it up and asked me if I wanted to take it with me right before we left. He told me I should, in case I wanted to write.

Malania, bunny – whatever pet name we’re trying out,

By now you are inside the confines of your treatment centre and I hope that its going smoothly. Don’t be afraid to talk to people, don’t be afraid to show others that beautiful side of yourself that you reveal to me.

Keep up with your art, that will get you through. I know when I’m feeling sad I sometimes lose motivation to sing or to create, but once I begin again, I can’t stop, and then I regret the time that I was too angry or sad to pick up a pen. So, don’t get to that point, you are so talented. When you heal up, we’ll work on fine-tuning my talents again and we’ll work on fine-tuning yours and together we’ll take on the world.

By the time you’ve found this, I’ll be missing you like crazy.

Stay strong, my sweet!

Love M.”

I grinned and folded it carefully and slipped it back inside my journal. Cassie was still watching me. I breathed out a huge sigh.

“You look happy, did you find something you were looking for?” I could tell that she was trying to engage me, trying to help me feel a bit more normal, but it wasn’t a normal situation I was in, and I was okay to recognise that.

“Yeah… just a note from someone.”

“Oh, Peter, your boyfriend,” she guessed.

I just smiled and pulled my bedding back over me. “Will someone wake me up if I sleep through til my psychologist appointment?”

“Yes, I’ll be coming to get you for lunch,” she told me, getting up from the chair. I knew she was satisfied that I was truly just going to sleep.

I felt a bit lighter of heart as I rested my head. “Thanks…” I replied, getting comfortable beneath the blankets.

Just as I was drifting off, there was a knock at the doorway. I grumbled to myself and tossed on to my other side. I decided to just ignore it, the nurse would let herself in and would have been able to see from the doorway that I was resting.

Another knock.

Are you shitting me?

I sat up, “Yes?” I asked, looking at the doorway opposing the foot of my bed. I was surprised to see Julia standing in my doorway. She had long, brown hair that looked a lot longer than it had when she was sitting at breakfast. She wore a pair of pajama pants and a tank top that had some stupid quip on it.

“Hi Malania, can I come in for a second?”

I realised she was probably still a teenager, maybe a little older, but barely so. She looked sweet and was generally attractive, but I just wanted to be left alone.

“Sure…” I murmured.

She let herself in my room and sat down presumptuously on the chair that Cassie had been sitting in. She tucked her legs beneath her, her slender body seeming to contort awkwardly in the seat. “Sorry about the ambush earlier.”

“That’s fine, I get it, I’m new,” I replied.

“It wasn’t fair of me to tell you that I knew why you were in here,” she began awkwardly, “I didn’t really guess, I saw your scars.”

“I know that,” I replied, “but its fine, I don’t think I have any reason to hide it.”

“Its better than being here for depression or something that could have been resolved on the outside,” she remarked. I knew it was a glib-minded comment that reflected her age.

“Well, it’s a part of depression,” I retorted informing her, not getting defensive.

“I guess so. I cut too, that’s also why I’m here.”

“We’re both trying to get ourselves together and that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I asked, realising that she was nearly as bright or as cheerful as she had been earlier.

“I’m here cos my parents dropped me off and kept driving,” she admitted, looking down at her badly chipped nails, “but anyway, I just wanted to say sorry, we’re supposed to be accountable for our actions, and I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“You didn’t make me feel bad.” I told her evenly.

“Okay, cool. I’ll see you later then.” She extended herself from the chair and slowly got up and headed out of my room.

I sighed and attempted a second time to get some more sleep.

Chapter 36 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Sorry its taken so long to update, my computer screen was smashed by a certain 9kg cat.... that bastard better take on a fucking paper route to pay the $500+ it cost for repairs....

The psychologist was a raven-haired, older woman who wore a black power suit. She tried to look casual as we both sat comfortably on a opposing leather couches, but she looked uncomfortable.

I’d been here before; I’d seen enough psychologists in my time to know the drill. I knew what information they needed from me and had come to expect the questions. I’d never kept consistent appointments though, I never felt comfortable enough to speak my heart. I had heard people talk about breakthroughs but it never actually happened for me.

I wasn’t expecting miracles. I just wanted to get through my time.

No, that wasn’t completely true. I wanted to not only get through the time in treatment, but I also wanted to get better.

She introduced herself as Raia and was friendly enough. She approached me with a warm smile. I sat down, trying not to be defeatist. I wanted to give it all my best shot.

She gave me a run down about her obligations as a psychologist, blahblahblah, I thought to myself as she nattered away, I’d heard it all before. She asked me if I had any questions.

“No,” I shook my head, “No, its clear-cut. I know all about the legal requirements and mandatory requirements.”

“Okay great,” she got a little more comfortable in the chair. She looked as though she were in her 40s. She wore a lot of gold jewellery and the most beautiful pair of gold diamond earrings that I couldn’t help but to focus on.

“I like your earrings,” I remarked randomly. She smiled at me and touched her ears as if she couldn’t remember which ones she had chosen to wear for the day.

“Thank you, they’re very sparkly, aren’t they?”

I nodded and shifted, focusing back on the session.

“So, lets get started,” she began, “how are you finding your way around so far?”

“Its okay, everyone is really nice. I like it better here than in the hospital,” I replied.

“Why do you think your parents discharged you from the hospital to come here?” she asked me in that patronising way that psychologists asked their questions. It was obvious that we both knew the answer, but she just wanted me to humour her.

“Because I had a tantrum because my day leave was revoked and I thought it was ridiculous for a treatment facility to not recognise that self-harming was my way of coping with situations. Instead, they wanted to punish me for coping, which actually just made me want to harm more.”

“Okay, well… lets go back a little bit, and lets talk about your self-harm history, is that alright if we do that?”

She was starting to sound like a Kindergarten teacher.

I just nodded. I couldn’t help but to yawn. Sleeping all day made me sleepy. I thought of Michael and how that comment would have made him laugh. Man, I couldn’t wait to lay next to him again and feel his arms around me. It was one of the best nights of sleep I’d had when we had shared his bed.

“What do you hope that you’re going to get from working with me and the rest of your treatment team? Do you have any goals in mind?”

I had been propping up my face on the arm of the chair trying not to look bored, trying really hard to give it my best shot—but this question was the same as every other time I’d been to a psychologist. I let my arm drop and rested my head back against the arm chair and stared at the ceiling. I shrugged.

“Take your time in answering, its okay if you want to think about it,” she assured me in her kind, gentle voice. I felt bad; I didn’t want to be difficult, but sometimes my ways of coping turned me in to a child. Probably didn’t help that my parents still babied me.

Slowly I lifted my head, talking to myself internally; stop being a child, you’re not a child, its time to take responsibility, you’re not even an angry 18 year old, you’re a full-fledged adult… talk about this, do it for you; be the best person you can be for those who love you.

Michael’s face flashed in front of my eyes, his eyes as he told me I had his heart. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to live through the shame of him finding bloodied razors, or finding me with my wrists or legs bleeding. I wanted to save us both from that.

I looked at Raia who was patiently waiting for an answer, “Its my hope that you an help me find better ways of coping with my stress and anxiety than cutting or falling in to a pit of depression that leads me to worse places,” I answered honestly.

“Good,” she made some notes and looked at me again, “those are some good goals Malania and I have no doubt that they are totally achievable as long as we both put in the footwork.”

It was the first time that I was pleased to hear something from her mouth.

“Can you tell me about the cutting? Can you remember the first time you cut?”

I thought about it for a few minutes, flashing back to the time my brother had hit me in front of his friends. I nodded. She asked me to explain to her the situation.

“I was 14 or 15, my brother hit me in front of his friends and I was embarrassed and hurt and I saw that I had a little cut on my palm from where I’d fallen, and I sat there and watched the blood run out and it felt … calming. I was a bit transfixed by it or something and when it stopped bleeding, I felt anxious all over again… so I tried to do it again with a tiny, subtle little pin prick, and I guess it escalated from there,” I replied.

“And what about the last time that you cut, I would love it if you could be brutally honest with me, this is a safe space, remember…” she reminded me.

“The last time I cut or the last time I attempted to cut?” I asked with a wry laugh.

“Both if you’d like,” she managed a smile at me.

“The last time I cut I was at a friends house on day leave from the hospital.” No one had found out that I’d harmed myself on Michael’s watch, I didn’t want anyone to blame me. “And I tried to cut myself yesterday because I had anxiety about coming here but someone walked in on me and stopped me.”

“Okay,” Raia put down her notes and folded her hands in her lap. She seemed to get more comfortable and relaxed. She casually folded her legs beneath her in the armchair. “Malania, can you tell me what motivated you to cut when you were on day leave?”

I thought about that moment. I had shared a bed with Michael and had taken great offense to something ridiculous. “My friend and I had a disagreement, I’d said something stupid and accused him of something pretty awful.”

“And Malania, what would you say has been the worst occasion that you’ve cut? The time where you’ve thought, ‘oh no, I’m in trouble, I’ve pushed this too far?’”

I rolled my sleeves up and showed her my wrists from where I’d pushed things too far when I was 16. “When I was 16, my first hospitalisation.”

“Was that from cutting? Or was that an intentional suicide attempt?” she wondered.

I thought for a moment, “I guess it’s a bit of both, I was very upset back then,” I admitted.

“What about your family?” she asked, “what is your relationship like with them?” she adjusted her hair, brushing some baby wisps out of her face.

“My Mama and Papa are still happily married. I see my sister who is a almost two years older and I have two elder brothers, one is three years older and the other is 5 years older – he lives in London now.”

“Who supports you when you are having a hard time? Do you go to your Mom or your Dad… or a friend?” she wondered, suggesting different relationships.

“Michael,” I told her, “he’s my uh… my friend, I guess. Before he came in to my life, I guess my Papa was really good for company.”

“Do you share your emotions with your family or with Michael?”

“With Michael, yes.” I nodded, “With my family its very hard, I don’t want to upset anyone anymore than I already have. I probably share my anger with my Mother or at my mother…”

“We might go back to that in a moment if you don’t mind, but I do really want to make sure we touch on all of your background, is that okay?”

I nodded again.

“Do you have any history of drug or alcohol abuse either with you or your parents?” she asked. I shook my head.

“And,” she began gently, “have you ever experienced any physical or sexual abuse?”

I shook my head no even though my mouth almost blurted out yes.

“You’re hesitating, are you unsure?” I hadn’t realised I was hesitating, but I realised that instantly I became agitated. I fidgeted, I pulled my hair from its restraint and raked my fingers through it.

“I’m not unsure,” I replied, “I guess…well, yes,” I mumbled, “yes I was sexually abused,” I kept remembering Michael’s words.

“Okay, lets talk about that for a moment,” she began, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready, and I already felt my stomach churning and seizing up as it usually did when I let my mind wander back to those times.

“Lets not,” I replied.

“Okay, I respect that,” she smiled at me, “something such as sexual abuse can be so deeply personal, and considering we’ve just met, I totally understand you not wanting to talk about it.”

“Thanks…” I murmured, slouching in my chair and fiddling with my hands.

“Its my hope though, that when we get to know each other better, we can talk about it. I feel like it might have an impact on why you’re actually here, so…for now, thank you for trusting me enough to be honest, I know that probably wasn’t an easy thing to say out loud.”

“Its not,” I agreed, “I get anxiety just talking about it.” I shook my hands out a little bit because my palms were tingling. It felt the same way when I’d admitted what had happened to Michael and my sister. As if, speaking the words from my mouth were like an out of body experience; the words leaving my lips weren’t my own, it was someone else overtaking me and speaking for me.

“Okay, lets just take a moment to do something breathing,” she suggested. In a kind tone, Raia talked me through some very simple relaxation techniques for deep-breathing to control my racing heart.

She asked me more questions about my previous hospitalisations and what worked for me or what didn’t. Obviously none of it had worked or else I wouldn’t have been back for my third inpatient stay.

“Malania,” she smiled at me, I got the feeling our time was almost up and I was glad. I liked her, I’d decided, but I really felt like I’d talked enough. “how would you describe yourself?”

I actually chuckled and finally shrugged. “I don’t know? Arty?”

“Have you ever done something that you’re really proud of?” she asked.

“I finished college, I guess,” I laughed, “That was a feat on its own. I hated college.”

Raia laughed too. “So you’re arty, huh? What kind of arty are you?”

“Painting, drawing, anything really…” I replied, “I like to write.”

“So why don’t you do something for me? You seem to struggle to talk about a way to describe yourself, so why don’t you think about that and next time you and I get together, you can tell me.”

I almost laughed the way she made it seem like we’d be getting together for a chat over coffee.

She may as well have dismissed me to go back to my room or join in the art therapy or whatever the activity was.

I really just wanted to be alone for a little while.


**

Eating dinner was a different experience. There were a few patients who needed to be closely monitored by a nurse to make sure that they actually ate. Peyton was one of those patients and I figured out pretty quickly that they were the ones who suffered eating disorders.

When Cassie’s shift changed, another nurse was assigned to my area; her name was Clair. Clair had the longest, most beautiful, sleek red hair I’d ever seen on anyone. It fell just on to her backside and looked as if every single hair was in place. It was not fuzzy or wispy or unhealthy looking and it shone.

I was suitably jealous of hair like that. So far all of the nurses that I’d encountered were very nice and not condescending. I’d witnessed one who had been nice to me, giving an eating disorder patient a hard time about eating something. Aside from that, I gathered that as long as I was a compliant, non-resistant patient, they were going to be nice and friendly to me.

Clair smiled a lot. She had soft, snow-like delicate features and the most beautiful grin. She looked like she belonged in a ball gown in a Disney movie instead of in a treatment facility for mental health patients. She was tall, about as tall as Michael and thin and was completely charismatic. Instantly, she was my favourite.

Even though all the nurses had been nice, Clair didn’t treat any of us like we were less-than. She wasn’t patronising, she was firm with one of the girls who had tried to skip out on dinner, but she didn’t make matters worse. She spoke to us like her peers which I felt was important. I liked that, it made me feel less alien and more human.

My eyes peered over at Peyton who I saw having a melt down on the opposite table. She was crying and kept pushing her food away. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help it. I felt for her. Only two girls were at my table and one of them was Julia who seemed to be making a great effort to chat to me all day. She seemed sweet enough.

Peyton scowled at the bowl of soup before her and back up at the nurse before wiping her eyes, taking a few breaths and slurping up a spoonful. She dropped the spoon back in to the bowl with resentment. “Are you HAPPY!?” she snapped at the nurse.

“Jeez…” I muttered under my breath.

“I’m not happy, Peyton,” the heavy-set, older looking nurse responded evenly, “you’re not supposed to be doing this for me, Peyton, you’re doing this for you, you want to be the best that you can be for the people that love you, remember?”

“Fuck them,” she spat the words back.

I’d heard that a lot since my hospital visit. Everyone kept reminding me. Be the best that I can be for the people that loved me. It was true, I reminded myself often as well. I didn’t mind doing that for Michael, but I was reluctant to be the best for those who should have also done the same for me.

She caught eyes with me. I quickly looked away, feeling awful for staring.

“Fuck you too, Asia,” she called across the way to me. I ignored her, pretending that I didn’t know she was talking to me. I concentrated on eating the salad and roast chicken that had been on offer. It was no Mama-cooking but it wasn’t the worst.

“Walking in here, too good for everyone, probably just as fucked up as everyone else, if not more…” she ranted in a voice just soft enough for everyone to hear, totally ignoring the nurse’s warnings to stop using bad language. She was warned that her behaviour would be noted and that she would lose privileges if she kept it up.

“I think she’s talking about you, Malania,” Julia whispered across the table. I looked at the brunette before me and I couldn’t help but to smile in an uncomfortable, almost tension-relieving way. As far as I knew, I hadn’t said or done anything to imply that I was better than anyone.

Peyton was accompanied back to her room because she couldn’t seem to control her anger. I was sure it happened a lot, but it sure did make things tense. When I thought about my breakfast time with her, I realised I had only seen her shuffle her food around very craftily to make it look like she had eaten something. I was pretty sure no food had even passed through her lips.

“Why is she mad with you?” Julia pressed as our company got up, finishing her soup and excused herself.

I looked at Julia and couldn’t help but to laugh in disbelief. “I have no idea… that was so awkward.”

A couple of people looked at me, but given from the lack of surprise from everyone, I guessed Peyton had a history of having tantrums. The dining room was pretty cafeteria-like. The linoleum floor was a weird, distasteful salmon colour and the tables weren’t really dining tables, but more like trestle tables that had been set up and neatened with a couple of plastic table cloths.

It was how I had actually imagined prison to be if you traded the guards with officers, and the mental health patients with a bunch of women with a criminal record… However, given that some of these women were deeply troubled, it might not have been a shock that some may have had a record.

I knew though, that the treatment facility was not for those without money. I was very aware of that, I knew my family were blessed with money, but at the same time, I knew my brother had a hand in my the obliteration of my family’s life-savings which was why my father was still at work in his fifties; the time he really would have preferred to retire.

“Don’t feel bad, she is really moody sometimes,” Julia replied. “Hey, after dinner are you going to come to watch the movie?”

According to the activities sheet, there was going to be a movie screening in the entertainment area around 7:30pm. “I don’t think so,” I replied, taking my last mouthful, “I can take or leave television.”

It was true. I wasn’t a huge fan of TV. I preferred reading or writing or doing something a bit more creative.

“Do you want to hang out and do something? Have you been to the recreational room yet?” she asked.

“Not yet, I dunno, I’m kinda tired, I was thinking of going and reading in my room.”

“Oh, okay.” Julia seemed disappointed and made me feel bad. “What will you do then?”

“I don’t know…” she shrugged, “I guess I could do some painting.”

“Oh?” my interest was piqued. “You like to paint?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m very good, but I enjoy it,” she explained, “There’s in the activities room, there’s some space in there for painting or art therapy—sometimes I go in there with my earphones and Walkman.”

I never thought to bring my Walkman. I would put it on the list of things to ask my parents or Michael to bring to me before they visited. “Well, I could join you for awhile if you wanted. I like to paint too, might be a bit of our own art therapy, what do you think?”

“Okay.” She smiled at me. She had a bit of a goofy smile, but she sure was cute; endearing almost. She’d informed me earlier that she was 16 and the actual youngest patient in the treatment centre. She had spent time in a hospital, but her parents weren’t satisfied with the care. Sounded like a familiar story.

**

Something I learned was that we had to be supervised by someone at all times except for when we were sleeping and even then, we weren’t to have our doors closed.

Most of the girls ended up going to the movie; save for a few who hung out in the common area watching TV or playing board games or something so Clair agreed that we could both hang out in the art area with her.

I was surprised by the elaborate set up. It was almost like an art classroom. There were easels with expensive paints in the cupboards that I liked to use at home. I considered that given the amount of money our families were spending on treatment, the least they could do was make with the good paints.

“What are you guys going to paint?” Clair asked curiously as I set up my paints the same way that I would at home. I went to use a large piece of art paper, but Julia and Clair returned from a storage cupboard with some flat canvases.

“I don’t know yet, something for my boyfriend maybe…”

“Whoa, you have a boyfriend!” Julia asked, surprised and slightly in awe.

I couldn’t help but to smile. I was getting a bit used to thinking of Michael as my boyfriend. “Well, yeah…” I replied, avoiding their eyes bashfully. “I guess that’s what you’d call it, a boy who’s a friend,” I simplified it with a laugh.

I knew Julia was not a painter when she set didn’t bother mixing her colours on the palette. I knew that was a bit snobby of me to think, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to set it up for her.

“Sounds very new...” Clair remarked with a curious tone.

“It is, kinda…” I shrugged.

“Well, spill.” Julia commanded, “tell us about him! I can’t believe you have a boyfriend!”

“Why?” I asked absently as I figured out what I was going to paint. I mixed some blues together, “am I that hideous that you just can’t believe it?” I joked knowing that wasn’t even nearly what she meant.

“No, I just mean… how does he deal with your cutting? Or does he have problems too?” she asked curiously.

I laughed, “Well, we all have problems,” I answered diplomatically, “but he tries to help me, he makes good choices in life and he is understanding…”

Clair didn’t say anything, she observed our conversation as we stood side by side at our own respective easels. I was just painting in a way that was natural to me, letting the energy in my body guide the brush across the canvas.

“What’s his name? How old is he,” she fired off questions, “wait, how old are you?”

“I’m turning 23 next month,” I told them, “his name is Peter and he’s about to turn 30 about two weeks after me.”

“Whoa…” she was definitely in awe and there was a little part of me that liked the idea of someone kind of looking up to me. “That’s old…”

Both Clair and I laughed. “Hey!” she exclaimed, “I’m thirty! That’s not that old.”

Julia clapped her hand over her mouth, embarrassed, “Sorry Clair, you know I love you!”

Clair smiled at her, “Its alright, sweetheart, I forgive you…”

“So with Peter, how did you meet him? And what does he do?” she was full of questions. I felt like I had to almost make up this fake person.

“How we met is a very long and boring story, but he’s an artist…” I answered.

“What’s the most romantic thing he’s ever done! I love romance, that Disney romance crap…”

Both Clair and I laughed. Julia was cute, she was definitely growing on me. “Uhm… he made me climb to the roof of his apartment to watch a sunrise with me three days ago, I thought that was pretty cute and romantic.”

“Oh my god!” Julia exclaimed. She was glancing at the mess she was painting on her canvas before paying attention back to mine. Watching the sunrise with Michael was playing on my mind so I had been absently painting a sunrise and was also the reason why it came to mind as the most romantic thing he’d done for me. “Clair! Look at Malania’s painting!”

“Whoa! Malania, that is amazing!” I had so far only created the horizon and part of the sun. “Wow, you have some serious talent!”

“Nooo… stop,” I laughed, feeling my cheeks flush.

“Look at my painting, Picasso!” Julia laughed, “gosh… are you giving that to your boyfriend? Its so beautiful.”

“Maybe…” I shrugged, “I just like painting, its relaxing.”

“Can you teach me how to paint better?” she asked, “mine is totally crap…”

I smiled, “its not crap, I studied art at college and during school so I had a lot of time to fine-tune my art… I can teach you a few things, I’m sure.”

Together, I showed her how to mix her colours, how to add light and shade and perspective to her piece. We started out with simple things like houses and water and agreed that we’d work on art every night.

It was nice to hang out with another female and to have Clair joining in with our conversation here and there. I liked talking about Peter with them, I’d never had a girlfriend to gush to about boys and things. It was nice.

I never thought that I would feel it, but my first day of treatment wasn’t at all bad.

Chapter 37 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

I'm really sorry that its been so long since I've updated this story, but I've been so busy with r/l. Work, having interstate visitors and trying to figure out my study load. 

I am back and updating though, please enjoy my next chapter.

As usual I would love to hear your feed back; the good, bad and ugly :) 

I felt a little sad as I got myself in to bed that night. I had about 4 missed calls from my mother who had left messages on my answering machine. She threatened to come and visit me if I didn’t get back to her by the following day.

I settled in to my big, unnecessarily large bed and picked up the receiver of the phone. I dialled my parents house. Surprising me, my father answered.

“Hi Joseph,” I greeted him a little nervously. We hadn’t spoken too much since they had picked me up from the airport after Mexico, “Its Michael.”

“Hey Mike…” He greeted me. He spoke a lot slower in the more recent years, his voice still sounded mean regardless of how kind he was being. Perhaps meanness was something I’d always associate to him, though. “How you doing over there? Are you at Neverland or at your apartment?”

“I’m in Hidden Hills,” I replied, “I’m okay, thanks. How are you and Mother?”

“We’re fine, what’s the word on the case?”

“We’re waiting, Greg is collating a list of contacts to speak with about their time with me, I think he’s looking to get witnesses together, but apart from that, Joseph,” I answered honestly, “I’m keeping my head in the sand.”

“Okay, that’s understandable,” he remarked uncharacteristically. “Good move getting that woman on your side, she is very good for your case and makes you look like a man who isn’t at all interested in kids.”

What the fuck?

It reminded me of the equally stupid and glib comment Malania’s mother had made about her making friends.

“Malania is my friend, Joseph, and I am a man who isn’t interested in kids in some sick way. I’m not looking to her for good publicity, she’s my friend.” I reiterated trying not to sound irate.

“Hey don’t get defensive on me now, I’m just saying, she makes you look good.”

I felt exasperated and didn’t bother using anymore of my energy on him. “Is Mother there? She left me some messages.”

He didn’t press me for anything else more. I was glad for that. He put my bother on the phone.

“Michael!” she exclaimed, “I have been so worried about you, how are you holding up after the arraignment?”

I couldn’t help but to feel affection for my mother. I wasn’t fair to her sometimes, I wanted her off my back but at the same time, I really needed her and her intentions were incredibly pure. “Mother, I am fine, I promise you.”

“You went shopping that night! I was so shocked to see you on the news.”

I’d almost forgotten Malania and I had managed to go music shopping and also for a fast-food burger. I smiled at the memory that seemed as if it were world’s away. “Yeah, I want to try to get by as normally as I can…” I let my voice trail off, I wasn’t sure if my freedom was going to be an ongoing thing.

“I am just really happy to hear your voice, Michael,” she murmured, “do you want me to come over?”

“No, Mom, I’m okay, I promise,” I replied, “I’m at the apartment at Hidden Hills,” I told her.

“Is your fan-friend still with you? Mallory?” she questioned me.

“Malania,” I corrected her, “And she’s not my fan-friend, Mother, she’s just my friend…she’s not with me now, she’s away for a week.”

“Oh, do you want to tell me about her?” she asked me casually, I knew she was trying to extract more information from me.

“No, Mother, I don’t really want to talk about her right now, but I want you to know that she is a very, very good friend and I care about her a lot.”

Her interest was piqued. “And what about Liz, have you seen her?”

“No, I believe she gets back from London this Wednesday. I will see her then.”

I spoke for a little longer making small-talk. I knew she needed it more than I did.

Afterwards, I decided to go to bed. 

**

I didn’t really know what to do with myself when I woke up in the morning, so I decided to sleep-in. I didn’t even raise myself out of bed until after midday and I didn’t feel sorry, I really needed some good, solid, uninterrupted sleep.

The anxiousness that had encumbered me for a few days had subsided and I was back to living my surreal existence; it allowed me to live normally with intermittent reminders of a pending jail sentence.

I had organised to go to Malania’s house before dinner so her Mom could teach me to cook. It was almost 2 hrs away, I considered that once Malania was allowed to have visitors, I might book a hotel close by to save all the driving.

I skulked around the house, a little blue and bored without someone to talk to or someone to look forward to talking to.

I went for a shower and called Carsen to come and get me to take me back to her place.

I sat up front again instead of resigning myself to the backseat. Carsen seemed surprised every single time I got in beside him.

“Mr. Jackson, are we headed to see Ms. Malania?”

“No, Carsen, we are going to her parent’s house again in Fountain Valley, her mother is going to give me a cooking lesson,” I told him as we drove down the street. I slipped sunglasses on over my eyes and pulled my hair back in to an elastic.

“Oh,” he smiled, “you really like that girl, don’t you?”

I looked out ahead of us as we turned on to a main road heading toward the highway. I smiled. “Yeah, I really do… I hope she’s doing okay.”

“Did you want to visit her?” he asked as if the idea hadn’t yet occurred to me.

“I can’t, she is lockdown for a week, after then we can see each other.”

“So wait, what’s the facility for, is she unwell?” he asked casually. I knew he had to be wondering what the hell was wrong with her since we had gone to a treatment facility.

“Yeah, she’s got some things going on,” I replied. I didn’t want to be rude, but I also wasn’t able to share Malania’s health issues with anyone. I didn’t want to betray her trust.

“So, you’re going to visit her parents without her being there, seems serious,” he joked.

I laughed. It was pretty unlike me. Meeting parents for me in any past relationships made me feel uneasy and reluctant, but I didn’t actually consider it much. “Yeah, maybe it is… I don’t know, man,” I replied with a shrug, “I’ve got too much happening right now to start thinking of marriage or anything crazy. I’ll settle with being able to surprise her with cooking her a dinner.”

The drive was kind of quiet, we made small talk which I wasn’t particularly great at, but I felt comfortable with Carsen, I knew he was on my side.

“Hey,” I began as we were getting closer, “can I use your car phone?” I asked, nodding toward the phone that was attached in the middle of the car’s console.

“Sure,” he replied with a smile.

I picked up the phone slowly. I had memorised the number almost immediately. I was bad with names, but I was always good with numbers.

I dialled the number of Malania’s treatment facility. I was aware that I wasn’t able to speak to her, but surely there wasn’t anything wrong with calling to check up on her.

I waited until a receptionist picked up. “Good afternoon this is Willow Blue Treatment Facility, this is Candace speaking, how may I help?” she asked sweetly.

“Hi Candace, I’m not sure if you can help me. My name is Peter and a friend of mine is a patient there, her name is Malania Nakamura—“

She asked me to hold a moment so that she could look her up. The facility only had a small number of beds and patients, probably around 25 or so, it was one of the reasons as to why Malania’s sister had helped the rest of her family choose it.

“Hi, Peter, are you there?” she came back to the phone for a moment after taking me off hold. I was thankful, the instrumental elevator music always drove me nuts.

“Yes, I’m still here.”

“Malania is currently not taking visitors or phone calls, I’m sorry, I can’t put you through to her.”

“I know that,” I replied, “I actually just wondered if I could find out if she’s doing okay—“

“I’m sorry Peter, because you’re not a direct family member, I’m not actually allowed to comment on her progress,” she replied. She was incredibly polite and friendly and I hoped that was a reflection of the over-all staffing at the facility.

“I understand, the other thing I was wondering was… is Malania allowed to receive anything like letters or flowers or a gift or something like that?” I really wanted to send her something if only to assure her that I was thinking of her.

“No, I’m very sorry, this week period is almost like a detox period. We need Malania to be completely focused on therapy and daily routine.”

I gave a sigh. “Okay, I understand, thanks for your help Candace, I’ll call back in a week.”

“Okay Peter, thanks for calling, see you.”

“No luck?” Carsen asked.

“Nah, but it was worth the try…” I chuckled wryly.

**

I arrived about twenty minutes later than expected, I felt awful for not being punctual. Unfortunately, I had slept too late.

Malania’s mother, Helena opened the door right as I was about to ring the doorbell. She smiled at me and ushered me inside before anyone saw me.

“Michael!” she greeted me, hugging me and taking me by surprise. She kissed both of my cheeks. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. How are you?”

“I am good,” she nodded. I took my shoes off and followed her through the front foyer and in to the kitchen. “Malania’s father is on his way home, he went to get our grand daughter. She comes over on the Tuesday nights,” she explained.

Malania’s mother was very endearing, from her 50’s style smocks, grandmother-ish looks right down to her misplaced use of English words. “Oh, okay.” I smiled. On this occasion her hair was braided out of the way as if she had gone to a little bit more effort on my account.

“Here you must put this on,” she advised me handing me a pink frilly apron that was almost identical to hers. I looked at it, holding it in my hands and laughed.

“Its okay, I don’t need this,” I told her going to place it down.

She smiled kindly at me and shook her head. She knew immediately why I wasn’t cool with tying a stupid pink apron around myself. “It will be messy, you have a nice shirt, I don’t want it to have meat on it.”

I wondered what we were making. She had promised it would be easy, but I was daunted when I saw the ingredients everywhere. I reluctantly passed the loop of the apron over my head and tied the strings behind my back without a word. “What are we making today?”

“We will make Malania’s favourite,” she told me, “we will make cevapi and something like a red pepper sauce, its called ajvar.

I was a little bit excited, but hoped I wasn’t as hopeless as I felt. “Please be gentle with me,” I told her, “I’m not sure you understand how bad I am at this. I don’t know how to even turn the oven on,” I admitted, “I don’t really even know how to make a cup of tea.”

I saw an alarmed look on Helena’s face for a moment before it dispersed in to a kind smile. “It is okay, Michael,” she told me, “I can teach you from the beginning. I will make us both tea. Do you like it with milk?”

I loved English style tea. “Sure.”

She gestured me to join her at one end of the kitchen. She took two tea cups and two saucers from the cupboard above her head that she was barely able to reach. She was shorter than Malania which said a lot.

She showed me how much tea to put in to a teapot and laughed me off when I asked her where she kept the tea bags. She showed me just the right amount of tea to pour and how to pour it without spilling it everywhere and then allowed me to pour the milk.

I felt like a child again begging my mother to let me whisk an egg or pour a cup of flour in to a bowl.

She demanded that I sit down at the dining table with her. She put out some cookies; just like the ones that Malania had given me on the second time she had visited me. “Here, you eat, šećer, you need to fatten up.”

I knew it wasn’t at all anything offensive her commands; it was just the culture. I picked up a crescent moon short-bread type cookie that was covered in powdered sugar. I had always had an incredibly sweet tooth.

“Thank you,” I said as I took a bite, blowing a puff of powdered sugar everywhere. I quickly covered my mouth and apologised. Helena laughed. I could tell that impressing people with her food was very important to her. Perhaps it was one thing that gave her some self-worth.

“It is my pleasure.”

We sipped our tea in a little bit of awkward silence. I noticed she didn’t touch her own sweets. A paranoid moment passed thinking she was probably poisoning me for making a move on her daughter.

“Do you think of Malania today?” she asked me kindly.

“Yes,” I chuckled, “I tried to call the hospital to see if they would allow me to know how she was doing,” I explained, “but they didn’t tell me anything… I kinda knew that they weren’t going to tell me anything, but I thought I’d take a chance.”

She was happy to hear that. “You like my daughter, yes?” she asked.

I nodded, “Yes, I like her very much. I’ve become very fond of her. I’ve always been fond of her, actually.”

The smile faded slowly but surely from her face. “How long have you known my Malania for?” she asked in a serious way. I sipped my tea and thought about it for a moment. I was bad with timing, but I was sure I’d met her about 2 years earlier for the first time.

“A few years…” I replied, “about two or three, I suppose. She was always very sweet and polite, you and your husband raised her so well.”

Helena smiled briefly. I knew she wanted to have a serious conversation about my intentions. She may have been polite and a little socio-phobic and nervous with her English, but she was obviously very protective of her most favourite daughter.

“Why do you wait til now to become her friend?” she asked me. It was a fair question and I didn’t see it coming. “You know her for all this time and now you want to be her friend, what is it that changes?”

I looked in to my teacup and felt a little uncomfortable. I concentrated on the intricate patterns on the chinaware and couldn’t help feeling a little ambushed. I supposed I’d want to know the same thing if my daughter—or, Casey was being accosted by a person who I knew was deeply troubled just by turning on the television.

“Timing, maybe.” I replied, trying to be honest. “Malania asked me a similar thing; she suggested that maybe if this bad stuff hadn’t happened to me, I may have never befriended her; and that could be true,” I shrugged. “But, Helena,” I dared to look up in to her eyes that, if I didn’t already know, would have never guessed belonged to the mother of the predominantly Asian-looking girl I loved, “in my life I’ve always let everyone do everything for me and that included keeping certain people away.”

She hadn’t said a single word, but she was staring at me expectantly.

“I have had managers and bodyguards and hangers-on who don’t like involving anyone in my circle because it might compromise their position. Unfortunately when you are a celebrity, you encounter a lot of people trying to benefit from you – and its hard to trust anyone. Even if I wanted to befriend Malania, my people would have kept her at arms length. When this awful thing happened to me, everyone ran away from me in all different directions. Nobody stayed loyal,” I explained, “nobody believed me and if they did, they were too scared to show it in case people might think badly of them.”

Still silence. Save for a sip of her tea, of course.

“But Malania stayed loyal to me. I felt incredibly alone and sad and she was sitting and waiting for me and I cared enough about her to make sure she was safe because she was alone too. I liked her enough to want to make sure she was okay. I know what happened to me also upset her. And that was finally my chance to get to know her without all the added extras of people trying to cut in to my time or tell me what to do—it’s the first time in my life that I’ve been allowed to just do my own thing, make my own friends and get to know someone without another person trying to sabotage it.”

“Are you dating her?” she asked bluntly.

I was very wary of my answer. “I think so, is that alright with you? I mean, I want you and your husband to approve of me.”

She looked in to her tea. I sensed some reluctance. “My daughter, Michael, she is very, very fragile, she doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken.”

“I know,” I agreed, “I have been very careful with her heart, I promise. I love her friendship most importantly and I am not rushing anything. I just want to take my time and get to know her… I want her to be healthy and happy before anything else.”

Helena seemed satisfied with that answer. He shared eye contact for a moment. “I really care about her,” I told her sincerely, “And I know that she cares for me the same. We are very good for each other, I believe.”

“In fact, I will try to protect her and honour and not turn my back on her when things are hard for either of us. I hope you’ll trust me.”

I never got her answer because bounding inside was a sweet little girl with long light brown curls that were tied half up in a big red floppy ribbon. She saw me before her grandmother and hit the brakes. I almost laughed, if her short stop had a sound effect, it would have been one with skidding tyres.

“Hello there,” I greeted her. She stared at me for a moment before taking a few steps back out of the doorway to see where her grandfather was.

“Danijela, come to Grandma,” Helena gestured, getting up to greet her grandmother, “I’m just here,” the little girl gingerly entered the room again, standing on her tip toes so that she could see over the top of the table that obscured her view.

Helena made her way to Danijela and lifted her up and kissed her cheeks, cuddling her. It was obvious that she meant the world to her. “Sweetheart, this is Michael, would you like to say hello?”

Danijela stared at me and said nothing.

“Nice to meet you Danijela,” I smiled at her warmly. Danijela ignored me and pointed to the cookies on the plate. Helena laughed, “Okay ljubavi just one.”

I held out the plate for the little girl. She took the same one that I had taken. “I am teaching Michael to make some cevapi for Malania, would you like to help us?”

“I want to help pa in the garden,” she replied, wriggling down.

“Its too late for the garden, you stay here with Grandma…”

George appeared in the doorway and greeted me warmly. We shook hands as I watched him help himself to a few cookies. We made small talk while Helena set Dani down at the table with a glass of milk.

Eventually Helena and I began to cook. I wasn’t particularly fond of dealing with meat. Not that I’d ever had much experience, but when Helena asked me to ground all of the minced meat—lamb and beef and a bunch of other herbs and spices together by hand, I wanted to puke. I sucked it up though and went for it.

She showed me her method of cooking, to clean as she went, to prepare things in such a way that it would all be ready at once, something that she told me Malania struggled with.

“A-scuze me, Michael?” I felt a pair of hands tugging at my shirt. I smiled down at her, remembering my meat-covered hands, “Pa said you are Aunty Lania’s friend.”

“Yes, I am…” I confirmed.

“Are you her boyyyyyfriend?”

I just chuckled. Here’s hoping, I thought.

Helena explained to her husband that I’d tried to call the treatment centre. He didn’t say much, I thought maybe sharing that I’d done so was perhaps overstepping a line.

We worked on some potatoes next. Helena showed me how to boil them and check that they were done. She showed me a way to fry them off with some onion and cheese the way we had eaten them the night before.

She made me do basically everything and was patient and kind to me. I asked lots of questions as I went, feeling very unsure of myself.

“You’re doing a very good job, Michael, I am sure Malania will love this.”

“Hopefully I’ll remember how to cook when its time to cook for her,” I replied a little self-consciously.

After I finished cooking, the four of us ate together, listening to anecdotes of their granddaughter who was very sweet but didn’t look a single thing like either Malania or her parents.

“Michael,” George began as he took a seat at the table, “I called Willow Blue, they reported to me that Malania-chan is doing very well and that she has had a very good first day. She is engaging in all meal times, activities and has been a little tired. They are sure its just adjusting to the new place.”

I felt a swell of happiness in my heart. “Thank you so much for that, I was a little bit worried.”

“Oh this is good news…” Helena remarked.

“Its my pleasure, I was curious to know how my little girl was dong as well,” he remarked.

It was all a little bit awkward without Malania there.

After dinner, I decided not to stay much longer despite Helena trying to insist that I stay for some dessert. We organised for me to come for a more general cooking lesson the following week. She said she would teach me to use all the appliances that I was unsure of.

I was incredibly grateful.

I called Carsen and waited for him to pick me up.

Chapter 38 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Roll call! Is anyone actually here still!?! lol

Chapter 38

Things here these past few days have been pretty strange without you. Its funny how a couple months ago I was happy to get just a glimpse of you once or twice here or there, but now that we’ve gotten to know each other, I feel like I can’t seem to think of anything but you… I hope that’s not lame to admit, but I feel like I should be honest with you.

I do miss you. I miss your face, I miss your cologne, I miss your huge smile and I miss the way you always seem to be stroking my hair without even having to think to do it.

The people here are really nice, especially the nurses. There’s a girl who I have been hanging out with; she is only 16, but we paint together most nights. I’m teaching her a couple of things, it’s the first time in my life anyone has ever kind of looked up to me, which is odd – but a nice feeling, maybe its just good for my ego.

Therapy is okay, its not as intrusive or as awful as any other therapy session I’ve been to. I told her my secret, but I didn’t go in to detail. Just admitted it, but nothing more. I know that’s progress but I’m not sure when or if I’m going to be able to address it more thoroughly.

Oh, and there’s a patient here who makes me feel like I’m back in high school. On my first morning she was really nice and friendly and then later that night she went crazy and yelled at me. Competitive Asian girl, I don’t know much about her but she doesn’t like it when I look her way, she accused me last night of staring at her and she told me that my subpar half-white genetics probably sent me in to manic depression… she’s insane and paranoid, but quietly hilarious.

I hope that you won’t find these little daily notes as pathetic as I feel writing them.

“I thought of something,” I told my therapist with a smile. I felt pretty comfortable with her by my third session.

Raia watched me waltz in the doorway and slip in to the comfy leather couch. I tucked my legs beneath me. She was casual with me too; I think that was part of what made me feel comfortable.

“What’s that?” she asked with a smile. She wore a pair of black rectangle framed glasses and pushed them back up on her nose.

“You asked me how I’d describe myself the first day that I was here – and I wasn’t sure, I think I know now.”

“Okay, go ahead…” she held a pen perched above a notepad to begin taking notes. At first that part of it distracted me, but now I was able to ignore it.

“I feel like I’m family-oriented. I am a person who cares deeply about her family – well, most,” I couldn’t help but adding. “Also, I am a person who internalises everything. I don’t express myself very often, but when I do, its meaningful. I don’t share too much, but again, when I do its because I have trusted someone implicitly.” I thought some more, trying to remember some of the insightful thoughts I’d gone to bed with.

“I like to be needed, I am artistic, a deep-thinker and I view the world very naively because I’ve been sheltered like crazy in some ways.”

I couldn’t think of anything else so I left it there.

“Those are some very good thoughts, you seemed uncomfortable with that bit of homework the other day,” she remarked, pulling her long black hair over one shoulder.

“So, with that in mind, Malania, how do you feel like others perceive you? You mentioned your boyfriend, last time, did you want to go in to that today?”

I thought for a moment and shrugged, feeling a little bit brave. “Everything I say here is confidential right?” I asked rhetorically. I knew it was, she had told me on my first session that that was the case.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“I have a complicated relationship. We met in the most unconventional way and he’s … kind of important to the world…”

Raia looked at me with curiosity or maybe concern that I was a bit delusional. “In what way do you feel that he’s important to the world?”

I tried to be crafty with my responses. I tried a different tactic, “lets just say he’s complicated. He’s amazing, but he is complicated and above all else, he always puts me first and no one has ever done that before.”

“And I think you mentioned its in the beginning stages, is that right?” she asked.

“Yeah… I suppose. We’ve known each other for a long time, but something bad happened to him and I was there for him and we became close friends and now we’re…. here.”

“What is he like?” she asked, “sorry, did you mention his name?”

“Mike,” I replied, “he is a really, really nice person – he comes from a big family. He’s very affectionate, protective…” I tried to bite my lip to keep from smiling, “he’s generous probably to his own fault but not just to me, to everyone he comes in to contact with… which,” I paused, “I think is important because its easy to just be nice to the people you like.”

Raia smiled at me. “And how do you think he perceives you?”

“You’re asking the tough questions today,” I joked. “I don’t know, Raia, I think maybe … non-judging, he probably thinks I’m understanding, he might see me as someone who hasn’t existed perfectly and maybe he likes that we can relate to each other because we’ve had similar issues in the past… and I don’t know why but he’s obviously attracted to me…”

She was writing furiously. “What kind of similar experiences do you feel like you’ve both shared?” she wondered.

I sat back and leaned my head back and stared at the roof for a moment playing a dare game with myself. I wasn’t sure if I should elaborate too much, and if I did, should I truly trust her?

“Feeling like… our parents haven’t always done the best to protect us or help us… Maybe, feeling like outsiders looking in and watching the world spin without ever really being a part of it.”

“That’s a very interesting thing to say, do you feel like that currently?”

I started feeling a bit fidgety and agitated and felt like perhaps I’d shared too much with her. I didn’t want her to figure out that I was dating the Michael. I also didn’t really like talking too much about the way I felt.

“I guess so,” I mumbled.

She asked another question but I ignored it and focused on the fact that I could see the white of my socks peeking from beneath the fabric of my dark grey sweats. We weren’t allowed to wear shoes with laces as a safety risk, so I had a pair of black slip ons, generally I just wore house slippers around the place.

I thought about the first time I’d ever met Michael. Beth and I had been pen pals through a fan club newsletter and finally decided to meet up. It was in L.A, Michael had a public event where he was supposed to cut the ribbon at some random stock market building.

We waited all day, before any barricades were even put up. We hadn’t expected the turn out to be so crazy.

The crowed behind us pushed and shoved and before I knew it, a security guard had helped Beth over the barricades and to safety. Michael was quickly ushered out and I began to feel a little faint, feeling myself being pushed up against the metal rails. I was pulled out too, we were just two of many. We were taken to safety. I couldn’t find Beth and that distressed me a little.

“Hold still, I’d just like to make sure you’re okay,” a woman paramedic spoke to me calmly. She was a soft-featured, young African American woman.

“I’m fine,” I said, “it was just pushing in to my chest, where’s my friend?” I asked, alarmed.

After checking me over and realising I was truly fine, I left to go find Beth. I was directed by a security officer to follow my way past a corridor of burly men and I guessed that this was the path that Michael took. That thought made me tingle with excitement.

I caught sight of Beth waiting for me at the end of guarded off area. She was pointing and throwing her hands about crazily. I laughed, she had made a pretty good impression on me. She was funny and bubbly and easy to get along.

Hearing some commotion behind me, I turned around and stopped completely in my tracks as the rest of the world dissolved around me.

I never dreamed that meeting Michael Jackson would have been so surreal. He stood before me smiling at something someone was saying to him. I stared dumbly, my mouth hanging open. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even move I was absolutely stunned.

I could hear Beth behind me arguing with a guard to be let past to get to me but they wouldn’t let her.

I tried to speak but nothing came out. It took me two more attempts. I wasn’t outspoken and I had no idea what I was even supposed to say, but his name came out of my mouth.

He was about six feet from me by the time I had actually spoken his name. He looked beautiful in a pair of black tapered paints with two red stripes up each side and a black braided military style jacket made from what looked like crushed velvet. It was zipped up tightly and fit his form in the most flattering way. He stood at least a foot or so taller, maybe more on the boot heels he was wearing.

He wore a pair of wayfarers and his hair was slicked back. I saw that I had his attention and I wasn’t sure what to do next. Deciding for me was the 6ft something giant that laid his hands on me. I yelped in shock and tripped backwards.

The guard standing by his side shielded him from me despite the fact that I was well out of arms reach and was already being manhandled.

“Its okay,” Michael called. The guard was too busy trying to drag me away when all I was trying to do was get my footing. When the guard didn’t let up and I struggled and tripped again a second time, Michael spoke again.

“Whoa, whoa, wai-wai-wait, let go of her, she’s okay,” he commanded the guard, pushing past the one who tried to get between he and I as if I were going to attack him, “let go, help her up,” he spoke a little more gently as he inched toward him, “there’s no need to be so rough with my fans…”

If I wasn’t so stunned and embarrassed, I would have been able to respond or say something witty or charming, but no. I was flat on my ass on the asphalt looking up like some kind of moron at the outstretched hand of my idol attempting to help me up.

I had imagined the moment over and over again where I would meet him; what I would say, how I would look. I imagined how he’d say something incredibly charming or uplifting to give me hope about my home life, but what he did in that moment was better than all of that.

“Let me help you up, I’m sorry…” he apologised. I waited for my body to start obeying the signals that my brain was sending to my limbs. I reached out for his hand. I was so overwhelmed that I wanted to cry, but I kept it inside; at least my pride wasn’t betraying me.

He bore most of my weight as he pulled me up, placing two hands on either of my shoulders to steady me. He smiled at me kindly and apologised again for the security guard. “What’s your name?” he asked casually as if he were just some normal random guy.

“M…Malania…” I stammered.

“Oh wow, that’s different, are you okay? did you get hurt back there?” I realised he was referring to being behind the barricades.

“No, no, I think I’m alright, thank you.” I apologised. I tried to do a little bit of self-talking, Get some balls, Malania, I thought, this might be your only chance to ever get to speak to him.

I drew in a deep breath, “I’m a huge fan, Michael, one of your biggest…”

The whole time he smiled and kept a hold of my hand. “Oh, thank you… you are so sweet. Where are you from?” he asked, “here in California?” we walked very slowly toward Beth who was yelling things trying to get our attention, but it was just him and I in that moment.

“Yeah, I live in California,” I replied with the feeling coming slowly back in to my hands.

Interrupting us, was Beth who managed to navigate her way around a security officer. She bounded toward us giddily. “Michael, Michael, I am a huuuuge fan!”

He laughed at how jubilant she was. His own bodyguard asked her to calm down and take a step back. She backed off immediately, not wanting our time with him to be cut short. Glancing at Beth and then back at Michael, I decided to take the backseat. I focused on his hand in mine as we moved slowly toward the exit which we were dangerously close to.

I barely heard all the bullshit conversation Beth was making because all I could focus on in that moment was how lovely he’d been and the chivalry he showed me leaving an imprint upon my heart.

My heart flip-flopped as I felt him give my hand a little squeeze. I looked up at him with a smile. He pulled his attention away from Beth so briefly that she didn’t notice to return my smile. As stupid as it I felt for thinking it, it seemed like it was his way of acknowledging that I’d decided to give Beth the opportunity to speak with him.

“Malania?” Raia tried to get my attention noticing I’d spaced out for a moment.

“Sorry,” I shook my head, “what did you say?”

“I asked what your relationship was like with your parents and siblings, if you feel closer to anyone more than an another,” she repeated herself.

I was over it though, the therapy. I was just bursting at the seams to see Michael and I barely had to wait twenty-four hours.

I couldn’t watch any of the news about the case on the television without others weighing in their opinion on it and part of me was afraid I’d be recognised, but thankfully apart from the night of the arraignment, the media’s focus was solely upon his initial arrest – that footage kept getting a fair amount of air time.

Or so I thought.

“I don’t know… can we talk about something else?” I asked her, “there’s a girl in here who’s giving me a hard time and I don’t know why…” I told her, “she’s insane, I think she has an eating disorder but she’s about fifteen shades of crazy, maybe you should spend more time chatting to her and picking her brain.”

Raia just smiled, “I have time for the both of you. What is she doing to make things hard on you?”

“I dunno, she says random stupid things when she’s angry, she’s throwing the old, I’m-more-Asian-than-you race card at me, which—I don’t even care about, I love my heritage, I get the best of both worlds—but she makes me uncomfortable.”

“Would you like me to get a nurse to keep her eye on it?”

I shook my head, “No, I’m a big girl. She’s just a pest. A lot of people in here are annoying and love playing the victim, it makes me angry.”

“Why?” she asked, “we all have problems, why does it make you angry for people to share them?”

“Because half of these people have no culpability, they won’t recognise that they caused half of their own problems – or if they didn’t, they’re certainly not helping themselves.” I shrugged a little petulantly.

“So, what happened to you, you think that you should be held responsible for it?” she asked gently, “do you think maybe you didn’t help yourself out of the situation?”

“I don’t fucking know… maybe.” I tried to act like I didn’t care, but I could feel my stomach churning and my throat feeling like it was closing. I knew I’d said too much, I was tired and annoyed by the stupid girl constantly throwing comments my way.

I felt bad for swearing, but I was at the end of my tether with trying to talk my feelings out. I took a deep breath and sighed, “I find it hard to talk to you about my secret,” I told her, “if I can’t even talk about it with my family or my boyfriend, how the hell am I supposed to talk about it with a stranger?” I asked her, “And you keep asking these questions in a backhanded way, hoping that I’m going to start divulging shit about my family… its exhausting.”

Raia let me have my maddening rant and waited for me to calm down. She said nothing and I knew that was part of her tactics. I hated silences, especially awkward silence, I’d have bet she was just waiting for me to fill it.

“Malania,” she began, capping off her pen and leaning on her clipboard, “have you ever seen a bunch of people play tug-of-war?”

I gave her a funny look, half expecting her to produce a rope from some place. I just nodded.

“Imagine for me, that you’re playing tug-of-war and your opponent is the someone or something that causes you great distress or pain. Between you both is a gaping chasm. That something or someone is so, so incredibly strong and is slowly but surely pulling you closer and closer and you’re fighting back so desperately because you don’t want it to win—“

I just listened to her without saying a word. I focused back on my stupid slip-on shoes.

“What do you think the right thing to do in that situation would be?”

“Let it win and pull me in to the gaping chasm and then I’ll be dead so I won’t have to worry about it anymore,” I remarked bitterly.

“Forget what you feel like doing, what do you think would be the most sensible thing to do?” she pressed, ignoring my stupid comment.

I reached up absently and clasped on to the Tiffany & Co heart that Michael brought me. I felt myself often doing that when I was feeling a little anxious. “I’d say letting go, but that means letting that thing win over me.”

“What if you don’t look at it as winning or losing. If you let go, your hands stop aching, you get a flush of relief over you that the fight is over and while that something might still exists, you’re no longer struggling. You can acknowledge it every now and then, you can recognise that its still there, but you aren’t all tied up with the fight…”

I said nothing and took in what she said.

“I think my boyfriend is coming to visit me tomorrow and I’m scared,” I told her changing the subject.

“Why are you scared?” Raia asked me.

“Of people treating me different,” I murmured, “doesn’t matter,” I added, “it’ll be okay.” I am sure I was saying that more to myself than to anyone else. “Anyway, I’m done.” I told her, getting up.

“Okay Malania, we can leave it there today, if you feel like you want to see me again sooner to discuss anything we’ve touched on today, let your nurse know.”

“Thanks…” I got up and let myself out.

**

I wandered past a bunch of girls sitting in a circle playing UNO or knitting or … whatever, I didn’t care. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to lay in bed. “Lani…” I heard a voice that I had tried to sneak by unnoticed. I winced in frustration as the voice called my new cutesy nickname again.

I turned around and found Julia at my heels like a happy puppy. She was sweet and kind and very likeable, but sometimes I just needed my space.

“Hi Julia,” I greeted her, summoning up my best smile.

“Is your boyfriend coming tomorrow?” she asked me excitedly. I knew she wanted to meet Peter, but she wasn’t going to. I wondered just how things might go if people saw him. The very idea of it stressed me out.

“Uhm, I’m not sure, I haven’t had the chance to speak with him.” I replied, glancing at her cute little Punky Brewster pyjamas. Every now and then Julia showed me a glimpse of a little girl that was buried beneath her bravado.

“Did you want to hang out? The girls are all trying to learn to knit, but I’m hopeless at it.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ve actually had a pretty rough therapy session, I think I just want to be alone for awhile.”

“Oh,” she replied looking disappointed, she tried to cover it with a smile, “okay, I understand. I hope you have a good rest.”

I gave her a wave and went back to my room and threw myself on to my bed.

**

I was happy to see Cassie on duty. She woke me up for dinner, but I wasn’t really hungry. She told me it was going to be noted on my chart. I promised that maybe I’d change my mind, I was guessing threatening me with my chart was a bad thing.

“Why aren’t you hungry, do you want to talk about it?” she asked me, sitting on the edge of my bed.

Sometimes some of the nurses felt like friends—I’m sure that probably wasn’t the case if I wasn’t a compliant patient like Peyton.

“I just don’t want to sit in a communal hall with everyone and eat, I want to be on my own tonight… I miss my boyfriend, I miss my parents…”

She gave me a smile, “If I bring you some soup from the cafeteria, will you eat that?”

I considered it for a moment and nodded, “Okay, thanks.”

She disappeared and game back with a tray of food and placed it on the foot of my bed. It smelled okay. The food, for the most part in the treatment center wasn’t too awful.

“You realise that you’re allowed to have visitors tomorrow, right?” she asked me.

I nodded, “I’m scared of him visiting me here,” I admitted.

“What off, honey?” Cassie asked me, her smile disappearing, she gave me a concerned and empathetic face.

“Its just very complicated…” I murmured, “And I don’t know how to explain it without everyone losing their shit.”

“Try me…” she pressed.

“He’s famous.” I blurted out, “He’s famous and his name isn’t Peter and he’s going to want to visit me and people are going to go nuts and then its going to affect how everyone treats me and then there might be stories leaked about me; or us.”

Cassie stared at me for a moment before deciding hat to say next, “how famous? Prince famous or like, in the media every single day kind of famous?” she asked.

“Every single day famous,” I pouted, “we spoke to the admissions department about it when I arrived and they said that he could visit as long as it wasn’t disruptive for the other patients… but I don’t know how that’s going to work.”

“You know, a lot of our patients are the kids of famous people or dignitaries; at this place we honour confidentiality to the nth degree. I think we will be able to make sure you get some privacy so that we can keep the other patients from finding out.”

I breathed in and opened the top of the soup container and let the scent of it tantilise my senses briefly. “I hope so…” I murmured, “he’s having a hard time at the moment too, he doesn’t need any extra shit in his life.”

“Don’t worry about it, Malania, we’re your caretakers and so let us take care of it for you. He can’t be so famous that we can’t just slip him past us.”

I drew in a deep breath and stirred the soup absently.

“His name is Michael….” I murmured, “Michael Jackson.”

I saw the brief look of shock and excitement spread across her face ever-so-briefly before it was quickly replaced back with a look of professionalism. I knew there was a part of her that thought I was a little bit delusional.

“Wait, this stuff that I’m telling you – its confidential right?”

“Yes, absolutely, of course…” she replied. For a split moment I went in to panic mode, but I felt like she was sincere. Naturally anyone would have a thousand questions, but she knew better than to breach professionalism by asking me and I was glad for that.

“You probably think I’m delusional.”

Cassie laughed, the kind of laugh that made me know I was spot on. I instantly knew that she doubted my story. I didn’t blame her; she probably heard all kinds of crazy shit from patients all the time.

“No, I don’t think you’re delusional,” she smiled, “why don’t you eat your dinner and get an early night, I’m sure your parents and boyfriend will be trying to make contact with you tomorrow.”

She left me to it, probably to go report to whoever was in charge that the weird Asian girl said Michael Jackson was her boyfriend.

I didn’t care. I sipped at the soup and ignored the piece of bread on a separate plate. I put the soup down and sat back against my bed head and picked up my book.

I really, really, really hoped Michael had planned on visiting me.

Chapter 39 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

here's a new chapter. all feedback is good :) 

I had to sit through breakfast, barely able to eat anything because I was so excited to hear from someone. I wanted to see my Mom and Dad, but I’d travelled for so long that I didn’t miss them as much as I did, Michael.

I wanted him to contact me. I started to feel paranoid as I picked at my cereal. What if, in a week something had changed and he realised he couldn’t commit himself to me because he wasn’t in the right headspace? Or, what if he decided he was wrong about his feelings? A week was a long time if left alone with his thoughts. It had been for me.

I started feeling nausea swirl in my tummy at the very thought of rejection and I began to regret ever allowing him to know I had some feelings for him.

I tried to shovel in as much food as I could. I didn’t want anything that might go against me during visiting hours.

“Are you nervous today?” Julia asked me, slipping down in the seat across from me. I shook my head, obviously lying.

“I’m tired though, I wasn’t able to sleep very well. So… I stayed up and read the rest of my book.”

“The Seagull one?” she asked. A couple times she had come to see me when I’d been reading.

I nodded.

“Was it any good?” she wondered.

“Yeah it was a nice book. It was pretty up-lifting,” I answered. I totally understood why Michael wanted me to read it and also why he loved it so much being the visionary that he was.

“Do you think I could loan it?” she asked, almost embarrassed to ask.

“Sure, as long as you take care of it, it doesn’t belong to me,” I said to her, “but I don’t think the person who owns it would mind.”

“Oh thanks, I’ll come grab it later, I haven’t been reading much, I’m pretty bored with what I’m reading.”

“Which is?”

She ducked her head shyly. “I’ve been mowing through the Sweet Valley High books in the library.”

I tried not to laugh but grinned at her instead. She really was just a teenager. I remembered devouring that book series when I had been younger too.

“Hey, can I meet Peter?” she asked.

“Well…” I began diplomatically, my heart flip-flopping at the thought, “probably not today, maybe another day.”

“Okay,” she replied, understandingly. “I hope he visits you, you’ll be so happy..” her voice trailed off.

“Do your parents ever come visit you?” I wondered.

She shrugged, “When they remember… they came once early last week, my Mom doesn’t know how to deal with me.”

I was able to chuckle a little cynically, “My Mom is a bit like that too, but at least she tries.”

“Mine doesn’t,” Julia replied, “she thinks cutting is a little game I play for attention… nevermind my Mom has her own set of issues.”

“That’s where we learn them from, don’t you think?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “My therapist says I’m doing good and maybe when I’m done with this place, I could go back to being normal.”

“I hope you can too, I hope we both can.” I told her with a smile.

**

The angels sang to me when I heard one of the nurses call my name to the station. I went straight away to see what they wanted, but I already knew. “Malania, there’s a phone call for you if you press line one.” The nurse handed me a receiver and the phone pad. I dialled the line one button and listened intently, praying that it wasn’t my parents but instead, Michael.

“Hello?”

Malania…” my breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t have grinned harder. It was only 10 past 9am. I was so happy.

“Mi-“ I stopped myself, “Peter…”

He chuckled. There was an awkward air of silence, both of us probably being too goon-like in our happiness to even speak. Every fear that had been eating at me earlier was quickly allayed in that split instance that I heard his gentle voice.

“I missed your voice…” he remarked, “and I missed your gorgeous face…” he paused. I was about to speak but he interrupted, “God, I can’t wait to see you.”

I smiled, feeling my eyes cloud up with tears. “I missed you so much too. When are you coming?”

I heard his voice fill the end with light laughter, “Girl, I can be there late this afternoon or tonight, what do you prefer?”

“Tonight…” I told him, “My parents will be expecting my call and probably will want to come later and I have group therapy at like, four or something… oh my god…” I sighed happily, feeling giddy.

“Yeah, your parents are coming after lunch, I spoke to them before, I didn’t want to tread on their feet,” he told me and once again proving how thoughtful and considerate he was. “Tell me, are you able to talk for a few minutes?”

“Yes,” I told him, smiling at the nurse behind the desk who I’d noticed was giggling at my breathlessness and gleefulness.

“Okay good, are you okay? Tell me, what have you been doing over the week?”

“I’m good,” I promised him, “its been okay, not as bad as I thought it might be,” I replied, “but I’ve missed you.”

“Me too, but this is just temporary. I tried to call a few days ago to see if I could deliver a letter to you but I wasn’t allowed…”

I smiled, so relieved that he was alright. “How are you?” I asked him, “is there any news about … you know?”

“A little bit, my lawyer is having trouble tracking down Larry which is a bit frustrating. I have a feeling he probably went to Spain to find his daughters. When he worked for me there was no real way of him being able to see them because he was busy… so they’re going to try to track down his ex and speak with her,” he informed me. “And we got the report back about the DNA matches they’ve found and some of the evidence they think they have – I’ll tell you a bit about that later face-to-face.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I was just going to be happy to see him face-to-face. “I can’t wait to give you a hug.”

“Me either…”

There was a little bit of silence where our words were just left to linger in the air. I pushed myself to ask a question that was playing over in my mind.

“You haven’t… changed your mind about me, have you?” I asked in a tiny voice.

There was a big tension-relieving laugh that erupted from him on the other end of the line. “Ahhhh… Malania, no, no, don’t be crazy…”

I laughed too, “I have too much time to think…” I let my voice trail off.

“Well, don’t be silly, I haven’t changed my mind… tell me, what can I bring you? What would you like?”

“Oh, I’m okay, just bring yourself…”

He chuckled, “don’t be humble, tell me what you’d like. I’m allowed to bring you books, a small stash of candy or junk food, anything you want?”

I loved him for his kindness. “A pillow, like, a good one. Is that too much to ask?” I giggled.

“No, Carsen and I will go shopping this afternoon before I come. What else? Did you want a comforter as well?”

“No, there’s a couple of lovely weighted blankets… could you bring me some wool?”

“Wool?” Michael questioned with a slight laugh, “what are you doing?”

“There’s a girl in here who I’ve been hanging out with and they were trying to teach her to crochet in art therapy, I was too grumpy that day to join in, but I watched and I’m pretty sure I can figure it out… I’d like to teach her and work on a project with her in our spare time.”

“Okay sweetheart, wool… anything else? Chocolate? Cheetos? Coca cola?”

I laughed at his constant urge to feed me. “Can I be incredibly stereotypical? I would love some sachets of miso and some dried shitake… and maybe some books, just whatever you think I’d enjoy reading… I just finished Jonathan Livingstone Seagull.”

“Oh! What did you think?”

I grinned as if he were standing before me, “I can see why you love it. Its very uplifting, is that how you view your career? Imagine you’re already king of the world and then it just spontaneously happens?”

“Pretty much…” he chuckled, “I took a lot from that book… its okay to be different is the main focus, even if you feel like an outcast or if people don’t get you, its okay because your purpose is bigger than that,” he explained, “that’s what I hoped you’d get from it…”

“It is, it made me feel happy… I actually loaned it to someone I felt might get something out of it, I hope that’s okay, I’ll get it back…”

“That’s fine, sweetheart, I have a bunch of copies of it, I won’t notice it if it goes missing.”  

“I can’t wait to see you…” I told him.

“Me either… what’s the rest of your day looking like?” he asked me.

“Hmm, well – there’s art therapy in about 20 minutes, then lunch and then I have a choice of outdoor meditation which is just as awful as it sounds, or there’s a little self-help class which sounds a bit geeky so I might just hang out in my room.”

“Can I choose for you?” he asked with a little giggle.

I laughed too. “Okay shoot…”

“Do the geeky self-help class… It may sound silly, but it might be good… and, I’m afraid to ask, but … how’s the self-harm going?”

“Okay, I’ll go, just for you and secondly; its not…I’ve been very good.” I told him for once feeling proud of myself. I hadn’t even had so much of an urge since I’d been at the treatment facility.

“Good, sweetheart, that’s the best news…”

I started getting looks from the nurses and knew it was time to wrap the phone conversation up. “Peter, I gotta go…” I told him.

“Okay, I’ll go and beautify myself to get ready to see you tonight. I’m very excited.”

“Me too, see you soon.”

“You bet,” he replied.

I hung up the phone and rested my arms on the surface of the nurses desk, not being able to wipe the smile off of my face. “Is there are a limit on how long I’m allowed to speak on the phone for?” I wondered.

The nurse, who had an English accent looked up at me, “Yes, at the desk its five minutes. Patients are welcome to pay for their own phones in their rooms if they choose.”

“Okay, cool…” I needed to get on to my parents about that.

**

It was odd to see my family arrive all together. Arriving in a little group was my Mama, Dad, Anica, Danijela and my eldest brother who I hadn’t seen in more than six months, Kaito. I wondered where my brother-in-law was.

Kaito looked different, he’d lost a bit of weight. He was a lot like me in looks. We were gifted predominantly with Japanese genetics. He looked a little Korean and had azure eyes making him just slightly exotic looking. I almost laughed at that thought. Sometimes people had referred to me as exotic when they found out my heritage. It was a polite way of saying that I was a mongrel breed.

Kaito must have been home in California on business. He worked for an airline and took after my Dad in more ways than just looks.

I was a little overwhelmed by all of the attention afforded to me. I wasn’t expecting it. I bit my lip, feeling my face heating up with embarrassment and shyness. Kaito was almost ten years older than me and I’d never been particularly close to him since he left home when I was around 8 or 9 years old, but his presence felt immediately sincere and heartfelt.

“Hello…” I murmured.

My mother hugged me tightly first and everybody followed including my baby neice who just had to be second. She climbed up my legs impatiently until I picked her up. “Hiiiiiiii Dani!” I gushed glad for her taking the attention away from me briefly. I kissed her cheeks and gave her a squeeze.

“Auntie, Mommy said that I can play a game with you today!” she told me.

Anica laughed, “I did not say that, stop trying to con your auntie.”

I was able to laugh too as I balanced my neice on my hip and hugged my sister. She took her child back off of me, allowing me a moment with my brother.

“Malania-chan,” he always added the honorific to my name just like my father. I smiled at him a little bashfully. He looked me over in my basic white cotton shirt and grey sweats as if he were in disbelief. “You look….”

“awful?” I supplied with a little chuckle.

“No…” he smiled at me, “you look grown up…” it was almost humiliating to see someone I hadn’t seen for so long in such poor circumstances. I wished I could have been seeing him after landing myself a successful job like him, or that I was able to provide him with something positive about me.

Instead, his stupid little kid sister was in the crazy house for dabbling in teenage-like coping mechanisms.

“Thanks for coming to see me…” I murmured.

“Of course,” he replied, opening his arms up. I hugged him and it felt awkward, natural and unfamiliar all at once. I felt his lips on the crown of my head. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing well…”

“Well… not that well,” I told him, pulling back, “I’m in here.”

He cocked his head to the side and shrugged. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I showed my family in to my bedroom. Mama and Papa lingered behind, slowly looking at everything as if what was on the walls were important and as if they were expecting to see signs that I shouldn’t have been there.

“God,” Anica remarked, “your room is boring… nothing like your room at home.”

“Its okay, I don’t want to get too familiar with this place…” I replied. I couldn’t explain it, but something had changed between Anica and I. It was unspoken, but the tension that had previously been between us was replaced with a casual and caring relationship. It was as if I had my big sister back. It felt very calming. Another person on my side and advocating for me was incredibly necessary.

“But still… some colour wouldn’t go astray, lucky we have some stuff for you, don’t we, Danijela?”

Danijela nodded excitedly. I had noticed them carrying some bags, but I hadn’t said much. She put them on my bed. “Look at this Auntie,” Anica pulled a large piece of paper stock from the bag. It had been folded up. Danijela took it from her mother and handed it to me.

“Is this for me?” I asked my neice, sitting on the bed. Danijela nodded, her tongue protruding from her mouth excitedly and focused. She helped me unfold it to reveal a giant butterfly painting using all the primary colours. Months earlier, I had taught my neice how to create a pretty butterfly by painting one side and folding it over to mirror the other.

“Wowwww!” I gushed in absolute awe. “Michael did it with me!” she told me.

“Dani!” Anica hissed.

“What?” I asked with a laugh, looking from my sister back to my neice.

“Michael helped me at Pa and Grammas house!” she continued.

“Wait, what? Michael was visiting Mom and Dad?” I asked with a laugh, barely being able to believe it.

“Yeah…” Anica finally gave in to the information, “he came to Mom and Dad’s because he tried to call here to get some information and they wouldn’t tell him anything, so he got Dad to call for him.”

“Oh,” I smiled, not being able to help feeling a swelling of affection for him in my heart.

“Yeah,” Kaito sat on the empty opposing bed. “What’s this about my kid sister hanging out with the King of Pop?” he asked, “Papa said something to me about it last time we talked and I thought maybe he was confused, you know…” he added giving a good-natured roll of his eyes as if to explain that sometimes my Dad came up with some odd things.

I laughed, embarrassed. “I dunno, I guess we just began hanging out…” I shrugged.

“No,” Kaito shook his head, not accepting that answer. He grinned at me, “no, no, no, don’t give me that cop out, what I want to know is, how do you go from being a normal every day 20 year old girl, to high-rolling with the king of pop and going to dinner and shopping and a freakin’ court hearing!”

“Court hearing,” I chuckled, “you’ve been living in London too long.”

“I’m interested too, actually…”

I looked back to Danijela who was still waiting for me to pay her attention, “thank you for this my little darling,” I told her, ignoring my brother and sister’s questioning for a few moments, “I am going to hang it on my wall!” I gave her a hug and a kiss.

I glanced up to see my parents in the hallway advancing toward my room. “Malania-chan,” Papa began, “your mother and I are going to have a word to the director for a few minutes, we will be back soon.”

“Okay…” I figured they wanted to chat about my progress.

I looked back at Kaito who was exchanging a glance with my sister. “Fine,” I laughed, “my friend and I met Michael in Mexico the night we heard about those allegations and we went to tell him that we were sorry and that we didn’t believe it, and he hadn’t even heard about it yet…”

“But how does that even happen?” he asked, he turned to Anica, “did you know she was off in Mexico?”

Anica laughed too. It was a stark contrast to the disgust and ridicule I had been met with earlier when she knew I was going around from show to show. “I knew some of it… but not the true extent.”

I wanted to tell them that Anica knew as little as possible because of how stupid she constantly made me feel about it, but for the sake of our relationship and the mood, I shut up.

“I don’t know… just pure luck. When we found out Michael had been arrested, I decided to go to his family home where my friend and I thought he might be and it was in Encino… the friend proved to be a psycho and left me there on my own… Michael happened to be walking around the premises, heard the heated discussion with my friend, heard her leave me and then opened up his home to me…. And we made friends from there…” I explained.

“What the hell…” Kaito laughed, “well, I’m jealous, kiddo, I want to meet Michael Jackson…”

I held my finger to my lips, “not too loud, I don’t want anyone to find out… so far everyone is treating me normally.”

“How is he going to visit without anyone noticing?” Anica asked a little cynically. “Maybe he shouldn’t.”

“No way, I’ve gone an entire week without seeing him, I can’t go eight weeks… he will figure it out, he has my best interests at heart.”

“He’s a nice guy… I’ll give him that.”

“What!” Kaito exclaimed, “you’ve met him too?” Anica just laughed at our starstruck brother. “Malania-chan when can I, your favourite brother meet Michael?”

As the words fell out of his mouth, I knew he realised he shouldn’t have said them.

I wasn’t going to let it dampen the mood though, “Well to be fair, you don’t have too much competition…” I joked. Both my sister and brother became a little quiet.

“Oh, lighten up…” I urged them, “yes he did some awful things, but I’m not going to spontaneously burst in to tears…. Not right now anyway.”

“Not the point,” Kaito replied, “I’m sorry, I didn’t choose my words correctly.”

I just shook my head. “Anyway, I’m sure Michael will be delighted to meet you… He’s keen to work hard to make sure everyone likes him, especially right now.”

“Yeah… how’s it all going for him?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know, he is visiting me later tonight so I guess I’ll find out…”

At that, my parents returned. They asked for Anica to join them. She got up, picking up her daughter and taking them with her. They stood in the hall, closing my door so I couldn’t hear. The director who I’d only met on my admission was standing out there too.

“What’s going on?” I asked my brother.

He looked at me and shrugged. “Do you want to go for a walk? Must be kind of stuffy to sit in here all day long.”

“Okay…” the awkwardness between us from so long without contact didn’t go unnoticed.

I opened the door to my room and realised there was a heated debate happening. “What’s happening?” I asked.

“Nothing, nothing, Malania-chan,” My father said quickly. Everyone avoided eye contact. I’d clearly walked in to something.

“Are you all arguing about me?” I asked, shooting a glance to the director and then back at my mother. She was a hideous liar.

“No, Malania, nothing like that…” Anica promised me. She looked at Kaito expectantly.

“We’re going for a walk…” he told them, putting an arm around me and guiding me away without another word.

“Something is going on, what are you all keeping from me?” I asked him.

“Nothing, I promise, its nothing serious for you to worry about.” I realised no one was going to tell me anything. I sighed. “No one is sending me away to some ranch retreat or anything are they?” I asked with mock-seriousness as we travelled down a corridor to the outside doors.

We passed Peyton in the hallway who sneered at me. I pretended not to notice, but my big brother did. “Who is that?”

“Some idiot…” I murmured quietly.

It was beautiful and sunny outside. The facility was situated upon a beautiful block of lush green land that was landscaped to a fanatical degree. The shaded areas were long, white painted lattice pergolas with the most beautiful Jasmine vines threaded through the holes.

“Here, lets go sit down out here and have a chat,” Kaito directed me to the farthest pergola away from any patients and other visitors and down the cobblestone path to a white wicker outdoor setting.

If you’d arrived in that particular area of the facility, you’d have never known the place was full of crazies.

I picked a stem of Jasmine as the shade covered us and we both took seats. I could smell it’s scent before I pressed it close to my nostrils. I loved the smell of Jasmine.

“So, how’s this experience actually been, for real?” he asked me. I looked away from the flower and placed it upon the table top. I folded my arms and paid his question some attention. I found myself looking away from his almond-eyes just as quickly. I felt shy with my older brother, I wasn’t completely sure how to interact with him.

“Its been okay. Better than the hospital that’s for sure.”

“Are you okay here?” he asked, “I mean, bullshit aside, Malania, you can be honest, I’m not highly strung like Mom or Dad or Anica…”

“I’m okay here,” I nodded, “I know it’s the best place for me right now. I want to be better.”

“Is it true about Samuel?” he asked. He wasn’t a huge fan of Samuel. They had fought a lot and given that Kaito was easily a bigger build and older, he was never threatened by his younger brother. I had wished he’d been around to stick up for me when Samuel was hurting me.

“Depends on the stories you’ve heard…”

“Anica told me that he…” his voice trailed off. I felt instant frustration with my sister. It wasn’t her secret to share.

“How nice of Anica to share that with you without keeping it to herself like she promised me.”

“Malania-chan, I deserved to know as well.”

The old feelings began to dredge themselves up. My anger began to rise and I became agitated again. I remembered Michael’s advice to never feel guilty for that anger.

Michael had always been such a warm source of advice even when he didn’t realise it. I remembered back to a time that I was in Germany. It was the only time I ever saw him without Beth. The concert had been amazing and I spoke to him after the show.

“Where’s your friend?” he asked me kindly.

“Oh,” I replied feeling slightly put out that he cared more for her than me. Or at least it seemed. “She couldn’t come, she had mid terms.”

“You’re alone?” he wanted to know, taking my hand and walking along side me in that chivalrous way that he always did. His minders were used to seeing me and I did happen to notice the presence of that woman and her child that he seemed to momentarily forget about. They walked ahead, stopping momentarily to turn, making sure he was still following.

“Yeah, but its fine. When you go to Brussels, I’m going to do some sightseeing and Beth will join me in Copenhagen,” I explained.

He smiled, “Be safe okay?” he advised me, “don’t stay out too late on your own. Do you need some money for a cab to get back to your hotel?”

I almost laughed at his sweetness, “No, Michael, I can walk…”

“No,” he said quickly, “a gorgeous young woman can’t be left alone to walk in a foreign city,” he said seriously, not even trying to flirt with me, but I couldn’t help that my face flushed. “I’ll get you some money for a cab.” Before I had the chance to respond, he called out to his manager, Frank.

“Frank, give me some cash!” he demanded as if it were nothing.

“Michael, no.” I said firmly, “I have money, its fine, I promise.”

He stopped and stared in to my eyes for a moment. “Promise me that you’ll catch a cab?”

“I promise.” I said again.

“Okay, don’t talk to anyone you don’t know, I mean it,” he added, not waiting for me to say I wouldn’t. “If I were you, I’d make sure I don’t go out after about 8pm, just to keep safe. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

I just laughed, “thank you, but I’ll be okay. Have a good relax after your show.”

I knew that his crew were waiting on him impatiently. I knew when to wind things up so as not to feel embarrassed by his sometimes cruel staff.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you soon,” he smiled. He obliged me with a hug and let me kiss his cheek. He waited for me to leave the corridor and find my way back out. I was pretty crafty at getting past the fans who waited at the stage door. Beth and I had worked out that a diversion was created at that stage door so that everyone waited there and then he left by a fire exit that wasn’t manned until the concert was over. Beth and I always let ourselves in and kept ourselves looking busy so as we weren’t questioned by on site security.

It had worked every single time.

“Malania?” Kaito woke me up from my daydream.

“Kaito, what do you want me to say?” I asked him, “oh hey Kaito how’s life in London, did I mention that your baby brother had a small issue with controlling his sexual urges around me?” I snapped with irate.

He looked a little hurt. It was a different reaction to everyone else in my family. He wasn’t quick to jump to excuse his behaviour and it was refreshing.

“I should have been there for you,” he replied, “if you are mad at us, I understand.”

It was probably the most comforting thing any single member of my family had said to me since admitting everything. My sister the control freak had been understanding and loving, but she didn’t at any point tell me she would have protected me.

“I am mad, Kaito,” I told him, feeling the tears welling up, “I am so, so, angry and it might not be valid and it might not be fair but I can’t help it…. And then,” I breathed, “I feel so guilty for blaming others for what happened to me, when maybe I could have done more to stop him.”

“You couldn’t have stopped him. Maybe Anica couldn’t have stopped him either, but I could have, Dad and Mama could have… and I’m angry with them too, I’m angry with me.”

“You weren’t even there…” my voice trailed off.

“Exactly,” he replied quietly, “I should have been there for my baby sister. I shouldn’t have been so quick to run away from everyone.”

“To be fair, why do you think I started chasing after a popstar?” I asked him.

“Because it gave you focus and took your mind off what happened to you. I get it, honey, I totally do.”

“Why did you want to run away so badly?” I asked him.

He looked at his own hands and shrugged. “I guess I couldn’t watch Mama and Dad carry on this bullshit happy family charade. Samuel ruled their world. He caused me trouble in every single avenue and it was always my fault…”

Maybe my brother and I had more in common. “What made me move to London was what happened to Luke and … what happened with you. It scared me so I blocked it out and did what every other immature 24 year old does, I took a job abroad.”

“What made you come back to California this time around? Work?”

“You…” he replied honestly. “After I found out what happened recently with you and your second suicide attempt, I knew I needed to come home and be with my family… it just took awhile to tie up all my loose ends with work.”

“Wait, so you’re back in California for good? Because of me?”

“Yes…” he said with a nod, “and I’m sorry Malania, I’m sorry about everything that Samuel did to you but most of all,” he told me, grabbing my hand bravely, “I am so, so, sorry that I didn’t protect you and that I wasn’t around enough when you needed me the most.”

I felt the tears sliding down my cheeks as I looked in to my brother’s unusual eyes. He hadn’t changed much in all the years he’d been gone. He was still handsome as all-get out and muscular and way too tall to be entirely Asian. He had soft features like my father and gave me a little smile to show his sincerity.

“Will you visit me often?” I asked him.

He nodded, “I promise. I’ll come every day if you want.”

I wiped my eyes. “I am just tired of feeling alone,” I admitted to him.

“Me too,” he replied, “you know what? When you leave here, if you want to, you can come and live with me. I arrived two days ago, I’m staying with Mom and Dad til I find somewhere, but when I do, I will make sure there’s enough space for you—I want to make up for what I lost out on with my little sisters.”

I couldn’t place it, but I felt understood and comforted by his words. I hoped that he meant them all.

“Anica told me I could move in with her…”

He chuckled, “Danijela is beautiful and Anica is a sweetheart, but she’s a control freak, how long do you think it will last before you want to kill her, or worse, before she kills you?”

I laughed through the last of my tears. “The reaping of havoc from one family member is enough for now…”

“I think you need to get out of Mom and Dads place. I love them both with all of my heart, Malania, please believe me, but I think you need to be independent of them. So think about my offer. I’m not going to Lord over your life, you don’t need to answer to me ever, but I will make sure you’re protected.”

A small smile filled my lips. “You’re just hopeful you can hone in on Michael’s visits to me.”

Kaito laughed deeply, a big tension relieving laugh. “Well, you know… it goes without saying. My man crush on the king of pop will reign.”

 

It felt nice to laugh with my brother and I looked forward to getting to know him all over again as an adult.

Chapter 40 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Here's a new chapter... Have had a really rough week, but wanted to update this for you all. Hope you all had a better week than me, and hope this starts you all off on a good foot :)

xxx

I had never laughed more than when Michael walked in to my room. He looked utterly ridiculous.

He a stick-on beard that from a distance looked a little bit real and a baseball cap that his hair was obviously stuck up inside and a stupid fake set of teeth that made him look as though he needed some serious dental work.

To top it off, he had a pair of circle framed John Lennon type reading glasses.

He had me in stitches. He was accompanied to my room by a senior staff member; I was guessing that his presence was kept as quiet as possible and the little staff that knew about him meant the easier my existence was.

I was killing myself laughing at his new look. “What do you think?” he asked, struggling to talk with the stupid teeth in his mouth, “I’ll reveal thisth look at the nextht presth conferenth!”

I threw my head back and laughed uncontrollably. Slowly he peeled the beard off and took his cap off and slipped out the unfortunate plate, dropping it on my desk, full of saliva.

“Gross, Michael…” I remarked, “you got saliva all over my desk.”

He giggled a little embarrassed. “I’ll wipe it, I promise.”

He had two big bags of things for me that looked pretty heavy that he had set down in the doorway after the senior nurse closed the door for us.

When our laughter had dispersed he got pretty serious. He smiled at me a little nervously, his eyes shamelessly sweeping over my frame. He held his arms out. “Are you gonna let me hold you for a minute or…?”

I smiled back at him feeling my stomach churn again, but in the good way this time. I sank in to his arms and felt them envelope themselves around me. His chest was so warm and he squeezed me so tightly that I almost became emotional. I caught myself and breathed in contentedly, drinking in the scent of his cologne.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured kissing my temple. “Its so good to have you in my arms again.”

I lifted my head and looked up at him, resting my hands on his thin waist. He loosened his arms around me and held my face in his hands. “And this gorgeous face,” he added. He held my gaze for a moment, his eyes studied me with a small, delighted smile that made my stomach feel mushy inside. It was a little confronting for me as was his brazen compliment that I found hard to take without deflecting it.

He didn’t let me get a word in, instead he just kissed my lips softly and briefly and hugged me again.

I knew we were going to be virtually inseparable until his visit ended.

When we broke our embrace he grabbed a bag from the door and picked it up and emptied its entire contents on my bed. Michael had no real concern for mess or clutter, I’d discovered. If he had any future with me, that had to change.

“Here’s your wool…” he told me, nodding toward the excessive amount of all different colours. “Is that enough?”

“Well no, I don’t know if I can crochet more than just one circus tent with all of this…” I joked.

He stared at me for a moment wondering if I was joking. Realising that I was, he laughed, “Sorry, I didn’t know how much is needed.”

“No, I’m joking…Thank you…” I grinned.

“And then these…” he handed me a bunch of books, “I hope they’re alright…” There was about six fictional books that I hadn’t heard of, but I trusted his judgment if the other one was anything to go by.

“And then I got you this…” he paused came around to the side of the bed that I was standing on. He handed me a beautiful red leather bound antique style journal. “It’s a journal…”

“Thank you Michael…”

“I think you’re amazing at anything creative, I hope that you’ll make this book come alive with the stories you’re alive to tell… whether it be by drawing or by your words…”

I took the soft leather book in my hands and realised he had written a foreword in it. A little bit cheesy, I thought, but it was so incredibly him. I smiled up at him. His face was a little unshaven but he always looked so handsome.

He kissed my lips again. It felt nice to have him with me, to be close with him again and that inherent urge that desired to be looked after and loved. I realised my heart no longer raced nervously around him, spiking a low level of anxiety. It cemented the fact that he made me feel safe.

Pulling away from me reluctantly, he continued as if it were nothing – as if kissing me was as natural as breathing to him. “I got you some classical music and a better set of headphones than the ones your brother messed up.

He pulled the huge Sony pair out of a bag. They were still fresh in the box. “These are ones we use at the studio, it cancels out every bit of background noise. It will sound amazing when you’re wanting to just close your eyes and enjoy the instruments…”

“Wow…” I murmured, “thank you, they look … expensive.”

Michael shrugged, “enjoy them, you won’t be sorry about receiving them, I promise,” he smiled as he showed me the tapes that he got. I couldn’t wait for them to be my new relaxation methods before bed.  

He dumped a bag of junk food all over my bed. I laughed. There was a 12 pack of mini soda cans and a few bags of Cheetos, chocolates, peanut M&Ms, Kit Kats, gummi bears and a couple small bags of lays potato chips.

“Holy crap, Michael, do you want my teeth to fall out?”

He chuckled, “No, call me crazy, but I kinda want the girl I am dating to, I don’t know, have teeth… I hope that’s not too much to ask.”

I laughed at his silliness. He picked up the last bag and pulled out a pillow that was still in the plastic wrap that had been doubled over inside the bag, stretching it a little bit. “Your pillow is here, my precious, hopefully its good enough, I made sure it was orthopaedic approved.”

“God, that’s amazing, I have been having the biggest headaches and sore necks from that stupid pillow,” I pointed.

“Oh, and I almost forgot…” he reached to the remnants of the bag, “here’s your miso and shitake… I went to a proper Asian green grocer for that.” I took the sachets from his hand and smiled. I couldn’t wait to have those.

“Thank you, for all of this… you are the best.” I began putting the things back in the bag neatly. “Tonight I’ll go to bed with my earphones and will sleep on my new pillow. You are a dream boat.”

He smiled. “I do what I can…” he helped me by unwrapping the pillow. He took off the stark white pillowcase from the old one and replaced it on the new one.

“Do you get a phone or a TV or something?” he asked, looking around.

“No, that’s something my family have to take care of… I asked my Papa today, he said he’ll try to take care of it…”

“Okay, cool. Let me know tomorrow if its been taken care of, I’ll fix it up for you if it isn’t.”

“Its actually okay without a TV. It means that I can get a lot of art done.”

I put the bag down beside my bed and sat down. Michael sat with me. It felt a little weird at first, there was so much to talk about, yet not a lot I really wanted to share except for how glad I was to have him with me. He plucked my hand up and laced his fingers through mine.

“So…” he began, “tell me… how is everything?”

I smiled at him a little coyly. “Great, right now…”

His eyes were full of stars and it made me feel giddy to my very core. I never thought in a million years that Michael Jackson would be making googly eyes at me.

“Me too…” he murmured. I was very aware of the pad of his thumb grazing over the arch between my own and my forefinger. He was so affectionate in the most subtle, yet noticeable ways.

“How was it to see your parents and sister?” he asked.

I began to smile. “Michael, the most amazing thing happened today… I actually was thinking about it through dinner, the excitement of seeing you made me forget for a moment.”

I loved that I had his entire, undivided attention. He waited for me, anxious to hear what I had to say. “Tell me…” he commanded in a way that was not bossy but rather engaging.

“My brother Kaito turned up… he’s back from London—for good.”

“Kaito? He’s the eldest, right?” he asked me, “you’re not very close with him…”

“He’s 9 years older than me. He moved out when I was about 10 or so for college and a girlfriend… he took a job abroad just after everything happened with Samuel and Luke and my hospitalisation.”

“Oh, so… you’ve never been close…”

“Yeah, but it was good to see him. He took me for a walk while Mom and Dad and Anica met with the director and we had the best talk. He’s moving home for good for me.

Michael seemed surprised and if I was honest, maybe he seemed a little cynical or suspicious. “What do you mean? What was the motivation?”

“We just discussed his reasons for leaving… he said it was a bit like he could never win with Samuel around and everyone took his side…  and then when he got away with what happened with Luke, then what I did… it just made him what to run away because he wasn’t sure how to deal…”

“Right…” Michael listened.

“He told me that when he found out I’d tried it again, Anica told him what Samuel had done to me… and he just tied up all his loose ends in London and came home. He said he should have been there to protect me from the beginning and regrets his decision to leave so he wants to fix things with me now…”

“That’s noble…” Michael’s voice trailed off.

“I know it sounds like a giant, swift commitment for someone to make, but… for the first time, Michael, a family member didn’t bother trying to make excuses for not protecting me, they actually apologised to me.”

He slid an arm around me. “Its important when someone can be insightful enough to know that they’ve made a mistake. I hope your brother will come through for you.” He seemed a little bit reluctant to get excited for me which slightly irritated me.

“Michael, c’mon, don’t be diplomatic. I’ve never had my big brother in my life like this. Maybe its premature, but he’s also the only person who’s never done anything bad to me or at least, the only person who hasn’t tried to guilt me in to feeling a certain way—this is necessary for me.”

“Okay,” he relented, “Malania, I’m sorry, its just out of the blue. I don’t want you to get hurt but he’s your brother and you know him, I hope you’ll grow close with him and he’ll come through for you, you deserve to have family members you can trust – we all do.”

“Its alright… time will tell, he said he’s going to come and see me every day, tomorrow he’s coming without Mama and Papa. He’s looking for an apartment and is staying with them for the moment.”

“Great…” he smiled, “Can I still visit tomorrow too?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed, “Hearing from you this morning was so awesome. It was definitely the best part of my day.”

He drew me closer and hugged me again. “its just so wonderful to see you,” he murmured, “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

I chuckled. I wasn’t going to protest. “That’s alright with me…”

I turned my body toward him and let him focus on me. He stroked the hair that framed my face, his deep intense eyes stared at me and disarmed me from speaking a single word. He took away my senses and made me ignore every insecurity my head threw at me and allowed me to open up my heart.

“You’re gorgeous…” he murmured as a smile made its way across his pink lips.

Not to be outdone, I reached up, taking both of his coffee-coloured cheeks in my hands and smoothed his skin. “You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Jackson…”

“Ooh?” he rose his eyebrow at me, “Not gonna lie, its kinda hot when you call me Mister Jackson,” he laughed almost embarrassed to admit it.

I started to laugh too. My face hot a little hot, but I shrugged it off. He was just being a bit cheeky, I knew he was teasing me.

“Kiss me…” I commanded him softly.

He smiled for a moment as if he was trying to see how long he could draw out the wait, building my anticipation. He knew what I meant when I told him to kiss me; that I wanted a real kiss, not the polite ones he’d been covering me with since he arrived.

“Stop it!” I whispered impatiently as I closed the distance between our faces, deciding that if he wasn’t going to make the move, I was going to.

I pressed my lips against his. It was a bit awkward at first, but as he stopped resisting and playing games, I became more sure of myself. I guided his mouth open with my own. His lips were soft and his tongue was warm and inviting.

His hands began to find their way from my back, raking his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck and his other steadied my cheek. I realised he had been holding back as I felt him slowly release his passion. I felt the tips of our tongues touching, igniting a spark inside of me, alighting my senses and causing me to lose my composure briefly.

I was a woman of somewhat limited experience, but I was determined not to let that shake my confidence. I may have had limited experience, but I wasn’t going to allow Michael to pay for my past. I knew he didn’t have a harmful or violent bone in his body and I knew I could trust him.

My body relaxed, allowing him to assert a little more initiative over me. I dropped my hands from his face, encircled him, drawing his body as close as I could to me. He kissed me hard, quickly losing that gentleness that I enjoyed as if he had been aching to do so for a long time. His tongue filled my mouth with urgency and grasped a handful of hair at the back of my head. He didn’t hurt me nor did he pull my hair but it made me feel uncomfortable immediately.

I pulled away. “Michael…” I murmured breathlessly.

He was slightly breathless too; he glanced at me expectantly. When I eyed him in silence he went to lean in to kiss me again but I dodged him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, realising quickly that I was put out by something. “Sorry… did I-“

“Can you just…” I paused, figuring out how to word what I wanted to say without feeling like a giant baby.

“What?” he asked a bit more gently with some concern, “did I hurt you?”

“No… Michael, just try to be a bit softer…its just…”

He looked at me, finally dawning on him what I meant by my words. “Sorry,” he apologised sincerely and embarrassed with himself, “I got too carried away.”

“Its alright,” I said quickly, “I just need you to go a bit slower…”

He smiled and leaned forward and picked up the kiss with a certain tenderness about him that had been previously missing. I let my eyes fall shut. I felt him reach for one of my hands that had been resting at his waist. He entwined his fingers through mine. He drew away briefly, “Is that better?” he asked, checking with me.

I nodded, “Much…”

He kissed me again and pulled away completely. “We should actually stop…” he murmured.

“What?” I asked, feeling like I’d done something wrong by being honest with him – that perhaps somehow my honesty had emasculated him.

“Well…” he began squeezing my hand, “you… just make me lose my senses if I can be a bit truthful…” his smile seemed troubled, “and uh,” he glanced down at his pants, revealing a slight affirmation of his attraction to me, “I find it hard to um… just…” he stammered, “my heart, I’m sorry.”

I was finally able to laugh at the tension in the room from our awkwardness. “Its okay…”

“Its just… we kinda left off where we were both showing each other some physical affection and you’ve been dominating my mind through the week and so finally seeing your face…” I could have liquefied in that moment, his smile just did me in every. Single. Time.

“Okay…” I murmured, “Its probably not the right time or place for any of this…” I agreed, taking hold of the heart around my neck as I noticed I had began to do when I was feeling a little bit anxious.

“Did you know,” he said, reaching up to caress my hair that was tied back in a messy knot at the back of my head, “you have the most beautiful smile?” he asked me rhetorically.

“Untrue,” I retorted, “you have the most beautiful smile, every time you smile my guts go to mush,” I retorted, letting go of my Tiffany heart and giving him my attention again.

He chuckled a little bashfully. “Did I ever tell you that the first time I met you, I made a really awful mistake of gushing to a certain person that you happened to have the cutest little dimple.”

“Diane?” I asked, laughing with disbelief.

“Yeah… apparently telling the woman you’re seeing that another girl has a cute as hell dimple isn’t exactly appropriate.”

I laughed more. “No wonder she hated me…”

He just shook his head looking amused. “Yeah…” his voice trailed off, “not my smartest move…”

“So… what happened this week? Tell me about this alleged evidence?” I asked him, wondering if there were things he was still keeping from me to protect me.

“Oh…” he sighed as if he really didn’t want to talk about it, but I wasn’t going to allow him to get away with it. I made myself comfortable and eased back on my bed against the pillow far away from the edge of which we were both sitting a little stiffly. I patted a spot beside me. He followed suit and settled down against the headboard. “I guess its stupid stuff. They took a lot of my photos and books and some of Casey’s laundry and they say they’ve found my DNA on those things.”

I frowned, “You lived there, as if your DNA wasn’t on those things!”

“No,” he looked at me, trying to tell me he meant more, “you know,” he was kind of embarrassed to say the words and I couldn’t quite figure it out.

“Um… like I’d relieved myself…”

“Oh for goodness sakes…” I shook my head, “as if, Michael… what a load of bullshit.”

“I know,” he agreed. He avoided my eyes and avoided touching me while he spoke about it – almost as if speaking the words out loud may have made me think that he was guilty of the things that they were alleging. “Greg thinks that they’re just saying that to scare me. They didn’t specify where this alleged DNA was found, but they’ve cleverly recorded the evidence reports and of course it was miraculously leaked to the media… so they’re taking it to mean that Casey’s clothes were littered with my DNA which is devastating.”

“Ugh…” I scoffed, “Michael, I’m sorry.” I took his hand and leaned my head on his shoulder. “I know we’ll prove them wrong…”

“The good news is that we’ve found some videos that my video crew was taking on tour where my interaction with both Diane and Casey has been documented. There’s even some home movies we took about a year ago that shows me caring for her, we can use that… and also financial reports of all the things that I spent my money on—which I worry about because it might look as though I was buying them off.”

“I think if people see the way you and Diane interacted they’d realise you were interested in her sexually and you loved and cared for her daughter like she was your own child.”

Michael agreed with that. “The other thing that might be good for me is that I still have the records of our baby… I have the first sonogram picture – it shows that I had a proper functioning relationship with Diane. As well as that, Casey only ever complained and said someone was hurting her for those last few months, apparently, most of the time I wasn’t even there.”

I heard his head hit the wall behind it with a bit of a soft thud and he breathed a giant sigh of resolution. “I dunno, my heart…” his voice trailed off, “some days I just don’t know if I have the strength for all this…”

I felt for him. Some days I felt the same. “Remember I told you… we all have our dog days, Michael, every single one of us… Its going to be alright,” I promised.

“But we don’t know that…” he said quietly.

“Yes we do. We are going to trust the justice system and we are going to trust your innocence and all of the facts. And you aren’t doing this alone, Michael, I’m here with you.”

He nodded, staring straight ahead at the door, thinking things over.

“I saw Liz yesterday…” he told me, “it was really nice to see her again. She’s back from London and she spent the day with me…. We just hung out.”

“I’m glad you have someone when I can’t be there,” I remarked, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Me too… but its not the same. Liz understands the media side of things and she, when she’s stripped back of that beautiful Hollywood movie star, she is a very, very loyal friend to have … but still, she’s not you.”

“To be fair, if you were paying her the same kind of attention you pay me, I’d be a little bit hurt.”

He gave a laugh.

“Anyway… whats it like here?”

“Good… I have a stack of notes saved for you, remind me to give them to you before you leave…you’ll probably get a better idea through them what its been like.”

I looked up at him and smiled. “I can’t tell you how good it was to see you. I almost cried when you called me this morning…”

“I was bursting at the seams,” he laughed, “I was almost expecting to be told to call back later.”

“I’m glad you’re here…” I told him. With my free hand I touched my necklace. “I love this so much, Michael… I didn’t really get the chance to express that to you properly when you gave it to me.”

“Yes you did…” He grinned, “but I’m so glad you love it…”

“Have you made any friends?”

I laughed thinking of a stupid comment my mother had made on the way to the treatment center. “You sound like my Mom…”

He laughed too, “Oh yeah…” he replied and I knew instantly he had cottoned on to what I was talking about.

“What was that?!” I laughed, “I mean, I’m being shipped off to a friggin’ treatment centre for depression and self harm and she’s kissing me goodbye like its my first day at school, ‘bye Malania!’” I put on my best Serbian accent and lifted my hand up to wave to an imaginary person, “make some friends, no? eat your lunch, draga!” I continued dramatically.

Michael cracked up, “oh my goodness, you do that accent so well…”

I laughed, “But come on…”

“She probably just didn’t know what else to say,” he defended her, “still, wasn’t appropriate, but Moms are like that at times.”

“I know…”

I felt him stretch and put an arm around me. I wished we could leave the room and hang out on our own outside or something. It was stuffy in my room with the door closed.

As if on cue, the door to my room opened and the senior staff member, Faye walked in without knocking. I was a little annoyed about that, but obviously I wasn’t in the position to argue.

“Welfare check…” she smiled warmly at us both. She was nice, friendly staffer who was a bit older than the younger staff. She was nice but I’d also learned she took no shit.

“We’re fine… just chatting,” he answered for me. We understood that by virtue of the fact that I had Michael Jackson sitting beside me, we were given special privacy that I’d not otherwise be afforded.

There was a very general open-door policy in the rooms. There was also usually a very watchful eye on visits, but we couldn’t just allow Michael to be seen. They did prefer him to visit later as long as it didn’t mess with my daily routine, but I was fine with that, it was a positive way for me to end each day.

The nurse eyed the bag of goodies beside the desk where I’d set them down after packing it all away. “Have you had someone go through all those things?”

“Not yet,” Michael replied, “but please feel free…”

The short-bleached blond, heavy-set nurse picked up one bag and started taking the items out. “This is just protocol, to make sure no contraband is snuck inside.”

“No,” he shook his head and held up his hand, “totally understandable.”

She seemed satisfied with the contents of the food bag and pulled out the second and had a quick look through the other things. “Wow, Malania,” she commented, looking at the headphones over the top of her half-moon reading glasses, “you’re very lucky, these look great…”

“Yeah…” I smiled, “I am pretty lucky…” I confirmed, eyeing Michael with a grin.

“Mr. Jackson, its going to be lights-out in about thirty minutes, so while I regret to give you the bum’s rush, I am just letting you know that Malania will need to start getting ready for bed or else when those lights go out, she will turn in to a pumpkin.”

We both laughed even though I really didn’t want him to go. “Well, I really don’t want that to happen… so I guess I should start bidding my farewells…”

“I’ll give you guys five more minutes,” she told us both, “and then I’ll make sure everyone is in their rooms for lights out and we’ll get your security to escort you to the car.”

“Thanks…” he smiled.

“Okay,” she nodded seeming fine with everything in the bags. “See you both in five.”

She closed the door behind her. I turned to Michael and felt a bit down that he had to go. “Want me to come back tomorrow?” he asked as if there was a chance I might say no.

“Absolutely…” I replied. I encircled my arms around his slim waist and felt him reciprocate my embrace. He rested his cheek upon the crown of my head and gave me a little squeeze.

“When can I have leave so I don’t have someone breathing down my back?” I asked him, unsure of if he knew or not.

“Soon, sweetheart… just be patient. Keep on with your daily routine, make progress and I’m sure they’ll start letting you out of here.”

“You’re the best Michael, can you please promise me you won’t get too down on your own?” I asked.

“I’ll try…”

I certainly worried about him being alone but I didn’t know anyone that could keep an eye on him the way he kept an eye out for me.

“I hope you…” he began, caressing my hair with both of his hands as he looked in to my eyes, “have, the, most, amazing and sweetest of dreams my beautiful, beautiful heart…”

I smiled, my cheeks reddening. “I will…”

Our lips met for a soft kiss. His mouth sank over the top of mine sensuously. This tongue grazed mine, I gripped his arms tightly as my senses became sharpened. His fingers brushed down my back and settled at my waist.

He had reeled himself back since our earlier kiss. He kissed me hungrily and passionately yet not with as much urgency or forcefulness which allowed me to yield to his show of physical affection.

He made goosebumps rise all over the surface of my arms as his tongue made a line against my lower lip before finding its way in to my mouth, dancing with mine. His hands became unsettled again and caressed me, one of them finding their way to my wrist, running his thumb along the inside of it, making me lose focus for a moment. His other hand smoothed along my nape. He certainly knew how to touch me in a way that made my body go crazy.

Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who had a little issue with self-control. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to push me down on to my pillow and kiss me harder. I wanted him to press his body against mine and feel his hands all over me, I wanted to start unbuttoning his blue plaid shirt and letting my hands run over the hardness of his body.

My mind was getting a bit carried away. He pulled away from me breathlessly, probably because he was trying to calm down himself. We recaptured our kisses a few times before creating some distance. He continued on running his fingers along the back of my neck. I kissed him one last time, promising myself it would be the last.

“I should go…” he said in a whisper.

I nodded without a word, knowing he should and had to. “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.” I love you, I spoke internally. Obviously, I kept it to myself.

“Goodnight baby…” he greeted me.

Before he was about to go, I handed him the notes I’d been writing over the week. “Goodnight Michael…” I replied, "don't forget to take your creepy disguise," I nodded toward the desk. He chuckled and picked the teeth he'd been lisping with. 

It was perfect timing, as he was releasing me from our final hug, the senior nurse came back with Carsen to escort him out. I poked my head out my room and gave Carsen a little wave.

“Goodnight Ms. Malania,” he nodded to me.

“’Night, Carsen.”

Michael blew me a kiss and disappeared for the night.

Chapter 41 by SkyWriter

I writhed under my sheets, tossing and turning and getting frustrated with my inability to sleep.

I kept having bad dreams about Casey. Every time I woke myself up, I would fall back in to the same lucid dream that I couldn’t escape from. I hoped there was nothing to it. I just wanted her to be okay and I hated that I had no control over protecting her from everything that was happening.

I got myself up out of bed, realising the only way to shake the nightmare was to make sure I was awake. I got up, got myself a drink and made my way downstairs to what was her old room.

I went back to Neverland for the night to get some things so as I could move in to a hotel close to Malania’s treatment centre for the duration of her stay.

Everytime I opened the door to this bedroom, I felt immediately transported back to a bittersweet time in my life that really, wasn’t all that long ago.

If I was honest with myself, I knew deep down something was going to give between Diane and I based upon our shared loss and her pressure to design a baby for her existing daughter. I knew once I said no to her, our relationship could never be the same.

Though, never in my life could I imagine her claiming that I had molested her daughter. I wished I could cut through the bullshit and call her and plead my innocence and explain that all I ever wanted was a future with them both; it was to have my own family.

I shook my head as if shaking off a fog that was clouding my mind and impeding my ability to think straight.

I wished I had someone to talk to. Instead I sat down on Casey’s bed and picked up one of her favourite dolls. It was one that I’d bought her from Vietnam earlier in the year. I used to listen to her talking to the doll, putting it to bed, chastising it for not doing what it was told and babying it before bed.

Everything in this room remained untouched as if I was ready for Casey to come back at any time. And actually, I would have welcomed that idea.

Diane though? Not so much.

I felt sorry for her but the love was gone, if it was even there in the first place.

Ever since I could remember I wanted to be a Dad and a husband. I wanted a stepford wife set up, I wanted a woman to come home to, who loved to hang out with her friends and keep our home. Perhaps that seemed chauvinistic, but as long as whomever I married was happy to do that, I wanted to support her stay-at-home mother lifestyle.

I was so in love with the idea of being a family man and maybe that clouded my judgment. Maybe it wasn’t fair to get involved with a woman who’s mind was always going to be somewhere else. Perhaps it was my own fault that I had been so badly burned.

I felt the tears welling in my eyes when I thought of Casey growing up without me.

I blinked them away. Maybe it was fate that it happened this way. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be in their lives forever.

I hated to think that this was how my life was supposed to go, that I’d forever have a stigma of paedophile attached to me just so as I could meet the love of my life; Malania.

And who knew? Maybe she wasn’t the one either. The more time wore on, the less I believed in that soul mate.

I was glad for Malania, she felt right when I was around her, but I wasn’t really able to trust my judgment anymore.

I hoped that in the morning I’d wake up feeling a lot clearer on my emotions, but with the anxiety building in my chest of a pending court case that could have potentially landed me with a long jail sentence, I just wasn’t entirely sure of anything.

The idea of having to spend my days in a state prison made my stomach churn. Every, tiny insecurity I had ever possessed would have been placed under a microscope… all of it, everything… it couldn’t happen, it really couldn’t.

I found myself tucked up in a tiny ball on this child’s bed as though I was a child myself. I jack-knifed myself together, feeling an anxiety attack coming on. I remembered the breathing exercises a shrink gave me a long time back when I was dealing with things.

“Don’t let this happen to me, God… please allow them to give me some kind of reprieve. Help them find the person that did this to Casey… please allow the world to know I’m a follower of you, I’m not going to harm anyone….”

How could I have ever got myself in to such a situation?

Was loving someone and someone’s child so unconditionally a punishable offence?

I could barely even think. My brain began to hurt. I shut my eyes tightly and prayed for it all to have been just a dream when I awoke.

I remembered the times when Casey would go for check-ups, the ones that would take place on a dreaded Friday – we’d spend all weekend sitting on the edges of our seats, biting our nails, crying in to the shower head trying to protect each other from our fears.

That unrelenting, awful, torturous waiting time that was like enduring an earthly kind of limbo where nothing was clear.

That’s how I felt in that moment, except that instead of lasting til the next business day, it was ongoing. I didn’t know when the feeling would end – it was almost two months in and I was still hiding from the world. I didn’t know what to think or to feel about what was happening to me.

I drew in a deep breath and wiped some stray tears that had fallen down my cheeks.

The only thing that was for sure in my life was Malania.

I was reminded of the fact that I wasn’t really alone while she was in my life. While physically that may have been the case, I knew I could talk to her, I knew I could tell her how I was feeling, but I was very aware of being an emotional leech.

Ugh, that expression.

“I can’t deal with you Michael, you’re nothing but an emotional leech!” she screamed at me.

I sat on the edge of our bed forlornly and looking at my hands as if guiltily. For someone so hell-bent on making me share, she certainly didn’t care for it when I had emptied out my heart and felt comfortable enough to share my loneliness and experiences with her.

Suddenly I was a wimp, suddenly she couldn’t deal with me anymore.

That was probably the beginning of what felt like the end for me. Being dumped by Taryn for being a cry-baby and not enough of a macho man.

I almost laughed out loud bitterly at the thought.

Me? I thought, Macho! Not now, not ever. I actually did chuckle.

Taryn Wentworth was once a rising actress; now she was a movie star. I didn’t know if that had much to do with my success helping to catapult her after we broke up, but it probably didn’t hurt things. We both stayed amicably quiet about our publicised split, but unfortunately our family members didn’t.

Jermaine told US Weekly that Taryn was a cheater. In retaliation, Taryn’s sister, Karen, decided to tell everyone that my sexuality was in question. I knew it wasn’t from Taryn. Despite everything, she wasn’t ever looking to hurt me, she just couldn’t be with me anymore.

Because I was a crybaby.

Because I couldn’t handle my emotions at times.

And because too many shit things had happened in my time that I wasn’t able to control or deal with appropriately.

It did alarm me that I could possibly be that annoying, emotional exhaustion that encumbered her, but I tried to reel it in as best as I could. I didn’t want to be a hindrance to her.

Taryn was a long time ago though, I’d matured a lot in seven years, I’d certainly become more of a man; perhaps not macho, but I was content with my own masculinity- that was never really an insecurity for me even though I knew it probably should have been.

Taryn’s accusations had made me extend myself in the opposite direction – probably overcompensating by wanting to hear everyone else’s dramas and problems which opened me up to new issues.

It was very hard at times to be weighed down by other people’s turmoils, but I didn’t mind. Fans were sometimes the worst for it, in very short amounts of time they got to spend with me, I sometimes heard life stories of tragedies and things that – shocked and horrified me.

One girl had brazenly told me she had been ‘prostituted as a kid’ by her own parents but assured me she was ‘totally okay now’, and that I had inspired her. It was nice to hear that I could help someone, but some things were too heavy to place on to another stranger’s shoulders and I resented it in the moment.

I shook the littering of thoughts in my brain, trying to discard them.

I got up off the bed and went to the closet where Casey had so many bits of clothing; lots of dresses and dress up things that we loved to buy her. I started taking them all off the hangers and folding them up and placing them on the bed.

This room had to go, Casey wasn’t coming back and that sucked for both she and I, but as much as it hurt me to say goodbye to that chapter of my life, it hurt more to sit in her room and think about all the love that I had for her and how she’d never know it.

Well, maybe she would one day…

**

The front door was always open to me, I knew that, but I felt like I’d walked in to a heated debate. The room was so tense that I could have started axing through it.

Malania’s Dad tried to pretend everything was fine. He welcomed me in to the kitchen where I found Malania’s sister, Anica and an unfamiliar face who looked incredibly star struck. I felt myself tense as well.

“You know Anica,” he nodded toward a gloomy-faced daughter who looked nothing like Malania. “This is my eldest son, Kaito.”

Kaito looked as though he’d just stepped out of a Korean pop video clip. I almost laughed at the thought.

“Hi Kaito, nice to meet you…” I extended my hand and the buff, Japanese guy before me stood to meet my hand.

He nodded dumbly, “you too…”

“Hi Anica,” I waved. Helena was no where to be found, I thought perhaps she may have been visiting Malania.

“Hello Michael,” she said icily. I couldn’t tell if she wasn’t a huge fan of me being in their lives or if I’d just walked in to something.

“Did I come at a bad time?” I wondered as my eyes fell over something laying before them. It was a red notice from the treatment facility.

I nearly choked when I shamelessly saw the balance owing. $322,860.00 to be paid immediately to avoid compromising Malania’s place at the facility.

“No, it was fine, I was just leaving,” Anica replied, getting up.

Kaito, who had been staring at me, stunned still, turned to his sister, “Anica, stop being a brat, its only fair…”

“Fair?” she threw her head back and laughed, “Fair is growing up where your family looks after you all properly as children so as we don’t grow up to be non-functioning adults and end up in ‘wellness’ centres.” She did air quotes over her head as if she didn’t believe in it, however, I was pretty sure Malania told me that she was the one who had researched and recommended it.

I took a step back and watched George flush a pale pink with embarrassment at being spoken to like that in front of a guest.

“Anica-chan,”

“Don’t,” she said firmly to her father, “don’t. I’m leaving, my family is not going to end up in the hole because of this… not a fucking dime, Dad, not a fucking dime.”

Without giving anyone a moment to respond, she marched out of the house, through the pathway that I’d just arrived and out the door, shutting it with a slam.

“Papa, how’d you manage to create two such dud children?” he joked darkly.

“Uh…” I stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude…” I glanced down at the red notice again, “Can I ask, is that the bill?”

George sank down in to his chair and nodded, defeated. He looked stressed out and concerned. I remembered that Malania had informed me that Samuel had used up her parent’s retirement money to pay off gambling debts and other things so that her Dad had no choice but to go back to work in his 60s.

“I’m going to help,” I said firmly, “I love Malania and I want to help.”

I almost balked saying it out loud. I wasn’t prepared to speak the words, I didn’t want them to know all of my feelings and part of me knew it was too soon, but regardless of if I loved her as my girlfriend, I very really loved her as my friend first and foremost.

“Michael we won’t ask you to do that,” George responded. I didn’t want to hurt his pride, but I didn’t want her parents to have to suffer financial burden if I didn’t have to either.

“You’re not asking me, I offered. In fact, I insist.” I added.

“Michael, my sister wouldn’t like that. We will pull the money together somehow.” Kaito replied. He spoke slowly and concisely as if he was still in thought, “Papa, we don’t need Anica’s help,” he said as if to comfort his father. “We can just use the money from my flat sale in London,” he told him. I felt like I wasn’t supposed to be watching a son comforting his father—a very different dynamic from what would take place in my family.

“And where will you live?” George asked him as if it were a stupid idea.

Kaito grinned, “Right here back at home like the good, old days!” even though he was grinning good-naturedly and had given his father a mocking slap on the back, I could tell it was the solution he least wanted to commit to.

“No,” I said again, “Malania doesn’t have to know, it isn’t going to hurt me financially,” I told them. “I just want to help. I want Malania to stay in that treatment centre because its proving to be very good for her,” I explained. “She likes it there…”

“Michael, I will forever owe you… I don’t know that I can live my life that way.”

“Nope.” I shook my head, “No one will owe me. I won’t hate it, I won’t resent it, I won’t even feel the air shift in my bank account. I don’t want to show-off and I don’t want to make anyone feel bad, but if I can afford it and I want to, and if I want to take care of Malania, then please just let me.”

“But isn’t having your son live with you the American Dream, Dad?” Kaito still harassed his father.

George managed to throw his son a smile. He reached over and cupped the back of Kaito’s neck. “Having my son in my life again is the American Dream…”

I smiled.

“Take a seat, Michael, please…” George told me, “I can afford to pay at least half of this bill, but I’ve asked for the help of my children…”

“And my dunce sister refuses to help,” Kaito supplied but immediately he was reprimanded by his sister. “I can contribute to it as well.”

“Is this the cost for the entire stay?” I asked. Both of them nodded.

“Okay, lets just get it paid and we can worry about it later,” I told them. “Can I take this with me?”

“Michael, I am unsure about it.”

I shrugged. “I’m unsure I want Malania to leave the treatment center when she is finally doing good. If she had to leave because no one could afford it, then I’d probably just sponsor her return, so either way she’s staying there…”

George laughed at my bluntness. “You really love my daughter?”

“She’s my best friend in the entire world who dropped everything for me and now I can return such a favour.”

I was very careful not to let on too much. I did love Malania, I knew I was growing to love her romantically, but I also knew that running head first in to things with my eyes closed was a very irresponsible thing to do.

“Let me work out my finances and I will see what help I need.”

“No,” I shook my head, “please, take it if you will as a random act of kindness, I will pay it, and we will never speak about it again.”

I could see the distress and internal struggle that he had with the idea.

“Okay…” he relented.

“Hey,” Kaito smiled, “I’m starting to think you don’t want me to stay forever!”

George looked at his son with a smile. “You can stay as long as you like my son, but I don’t want to become a financial burden to you too.”

I just settled it, I folded up the letter and put it in to the pocket of my black hooded sweater. “So Malania told me you moved back from London,” I probed her brother. I didn’t want her to get hurt and disappointed by her brother, and it seemed almost as if he were making a lot of promises for someone who had spent so long being absent.

“Yes, I got home four days ago, finally over the jet lag. I decided it was time to come home…” He explained.

“Great, where abouts in London did you live? I’m a big fan of London,” I told him. George got up and offered me a coffee or a tea which I accepted.

“In Kensington, I bought a flat out there and based myself there,” he replied, “I’ve been there for six years.”

“Wow, great… what made you want to come back home?” I wondered, pushing the questions a little bit, trying to figure out what he wanted from the situation.

“My sister,” he answered bluntly. “I need to be here for my family,” he added. “In fact, I am about to see her very soon.”

“Me too, do you want a ride?” I asked him. I actually wanted the chance to grill him a little bit. I knew it meant that my time with Malania would be impeded by a second person, but she was pretty happy with any company at the moment.

She had informed me the night earlier that she had spoken to her psychologist about who was guilty of abusing her and that she had revealed me to her. Surprising to both of us was the fact that the psychologist didn’t even bat an eyelid; she had probably been given the heads-up by the admissions and senior nursing staff.

“Really? Nah, I can go later, I don’t want to be the third wheel in my little sisters life.”

“Don’t be silly,” I insisted, “Malania will be happy to see you.”

“Okay, cool, thanks…” he smiled.

**

Kaito sat in the backseat next to me as we road the SVU all the way to the treatment centre. We chatted a little uncomfortably with in our unfamiliarity.

“So, Michael, what’s going on between you and my sister?” he asked me quite bluntly. I felt my stomach knot up. The way I conducted myself with Malania’s family was quite different to the way I was around other people. I had made the conscious decision to be outgoing and straight-forward. Usually people intimidated me so I went in to my shell, but I had feelings for this girl that seemed to give me the bravery I needed to not play games or to not be swayed by my own nerves.

Still, it was a little jarring to be asked a question so blatant. Neither Helena or George had wanted to know exactly what was going on.

“Um…” I felt a little ambushed but then reeled my sensitivity back in and realised that it was a perfectly reasonable question from an older brother. I reminded myself of how protective I had been at a time for my youngest sister. “I guess, Malania and I are in a ‘getting-to-know-you’ phase…”

“Okay, you know that she’s been hurt roughly right?” he asked, being quite candid with me.

I rose an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” he began, “there’s a reason why she’s in this treatment centre, you realise that something awful happened in our family – hence why the dynamic that you witnessed earlier is a bit out of whack…”

I almost laughed. This guy, if he knew what I knew. If he knew that Malania had told me a lot of it already, he had been knocked over by a feather in shock. “Yes, I know…” I replied, “Malania told me about Samuel and what he did to her and the kinds of things he’s done to your family.”

Kaito did seem incredibly shocked. I could see it on his face, but he never let it show in his voice. “Well, my other sister sprung it on me in the middle of a heated argument – so that’s why I came home,” he admitted, “I love my parents, Mike,” he began, and if it weren’t a serious conversation I would have laughed at his comfort in nick-naming me already, “but they can’t support my sister the way she needs to be supported.”

Reluctantly, I listened. I was a bit annoyed. I had known Malania for years and for months we had been close friends. I understood that her parents were not amazing at emotional support, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. I felt irate that her brother felt as though he could step in and would have all the answers and ideas on what was best for her.

“Well, in fairness, Kaito, I don’t know your parents well enough to agree or disagree with that.”

Wasn’t he disappeared for almost a decade? I wondered. How would he even know his sister?

“I need to make up for lost time,” he said as if he’d heard my questions. “I checked out of my family when Malania tried to harm herself when she was 16. I thought it was guilt over what Samuel had done to her boyfriend—I didn’t really know how to deal, so I bailed. But that was wrong, I should have helped, I should have moved back home and kept Samuel away from her…”

I suddenly understood. He felt guilty for not protecting her. I felt a little satisfaction in that. I was glad someone took some of the ownership of her pain. I was glad someone realised that they should have been looking out for her.

“I’m looking for a property to buy for Malania and I to live in. I haven’t told my parents yet, but I am going to help her get on her own two feet, financially and emotionally and I’m going to make up for the time I lost on getting to know my sister and to be a big brother.”

I looked to the good-looking buff Asian guy that sat beside me, probably about the same age as me if not a year or so older, he was totally pouring his heart out. I gathered he hadn’t had a lot of time to speak to many people since getting home except his family.

“Will they be irritated by that?” I wondered. Part of me hoped to have Malania stay with me at Hidden Hills but I figured that if taking things slow was what she wanted, then it probably wasn’t a wise idea for us to stay together under the same roof.

“Yes, my mother especially… I think my father understands – but Mike, I’ve spent two afternoons with my sister and I can already tell she thinks the sun shines out of your ass.”

I laughed at his boldness with me. He seemed cool, I felt myself slowly relaxing around him. “I kinda think the same of your sister…” I replied, “she’s the loveliest thing…” I tried not to get too gushy but a silly, embarrassed little smile littered my stupid face.

“Michael, can I ask your help with something?” he wondered. I felt a bit nervous wondering if he was about to hit me up for money. Perhaps that was unfair, but it wasn’t anything unusual.

“Depends,” I said diplomatically, “if I can help, I will help…”

“I came back from London with a lot of money,” he admitted, “I am a little private about financial matters, given what happened with my brother and how he left my parents in a bit of trouble financially for awhile…”

“Okay,” I nodded, waiting to hear the rest.

“My flat in London was a prime location when I moved there. The airline used to pay my rent for me and then when the apartment went up for sale, I bought it because I was able to save so much on rent. Then, I got a giant promotion and a new job and my pay was probably too generous. When I sold the flat, I made quadruple what I paid – with that money, I can afford a pretty decent sized house out here… I need to find a realtor and I need to know the kinds of things I can do to make Malania feel more at home and safe.”

“Is living with you something that she’ll want to do?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “I know she doesn’t want to go home. I told her I’d look after her when she leaves. I told her she can stay with me and that she can live her own life without having to answer to me, but I’ll help her where she needs it.”

I had to agree, that was probably exactly what she needed.

“I also took in to account she’ll want to be closer to you and that’s okay with me, but I need to find a good, safe environment for her. I haven’t lived here for years, Michael, I don’t know where to even start…”

“I can help with that. What kind of money are you looking to spend?”

“I can probably have the capacity to borrow around a mill from the bank without any issues on the repayments, a mill and a half maybe…” his voice trailed off with a shrug, “but I also have to furnish a place.”

“Are you taking another job?” I wondered.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking a new position in Corporate Aviation at the San Bernadino and Santa Barbara Airports. There’s potential there for me to get promoted to a senior aviation specialist, so I need to take it on.”

“Wow…” I was pretty excited. Santa Barbara was close to my new property, Neverland. “Well, I live in Los Olivos at the moment, so Santa Barbara is nice and close by, that would be cool – I can definitely help with a realtor, but you realise both Santa Barbara and San Bernadino are pretty far from Fountain Valley.”

He nodded, “Yeah, but first port of call is getting Malania a new car.”

“Taken care of,” I replied without flinching. “She still has my Mercedes at your parents place. She’s been driving that around since we started hanging out, her Honda is at my place.”

“That shit Honda…” Kaito laughed dismissively, “you know that piece of shit belonged to me right before I moved, then it belonged to Anica and then I guess my parents bought it for Malania cos goodness knows Anica wouldn’t just give something away for nothing.”

I sensed some obvious tension between him and Anica but I said nothing. I smiled. “Well, as far as I’m concerned Malania can have the Benz on permanent loan, so don’t worry about that…”

“Great… well, if you can help me out with that, that would be great, Mike, thanks…”

I smiled, “No problem.”

“And one other thing,” he said, “We need to split the cost of Malania’s hospital bill. I didn’t want my parents to know just how much money I had, but I know they need help, I was trying to be very careful by saying I could pay it and then live at home… I would have prolonged my stay, but…” he sighed, “I know it sounds dumb, but my financials have to stay private.”

“Understood.” I nodded, “If you want to split the bill, that’s fine, but I can handle it.”

“I’ll split the bill with you,” he said nonchalantly. “Thanks Michael. You really are a cool guy.”

I hated it when people said things like that, its as though they expected I’d be either a total loser or a complete idiot.

I said nothing and smiled. I picked up some things in a small plastic bag on the spare seat between Kaito and I. It contained some things for Malania including a couple of poems or potential songs that I had written that I wanted her opinion on.

“I’m nervous about seeing her today…” I admitted to Kaito, almost under my breath.

“Why’s that?” he asked, “she will be really happy to see you, she always is…”

I shrugged, “I dunno…”

I did know. But I didn’t really feel much like addressing it. Malania was having a therapy session in the morning and she told me that they were going to be exploring her relationship with me, that the shrink was interested to know what we meant to one another.

I was worried for my privacy, but I decided that if I had a future with this girl, I needed to trust that everyone was going to be professional and I needed to trust that Malania would know how to guard my privacy as best as she could.

I let out a sigh, realising I’d been holding my breath thinking about it.

I hoped she wouldn’t tell about my own self-harm or my own history with suicidal thoughts. I at least trusted her to exercise her control there. I knew she would, no one could ever know that secret.

 

Chapter 42 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

updated, finally :) 

 

I was disappointed when both Michael and Kaito bustled in to my room together. I needed to talk to Michael; I hugged them both tightly and was so happy to see both their faces but especially Michael.

“Hi my heart,” Michael murmured, drawing away from me slowly. Even though I was disappointed that I wouldn’t have one-on-one time with him, I still couldn’t wipe the smile from my face.

Michael grinned at me; that knee-weakening, heart-thumping, intoxifying grin that made my chest want to explode. There were no gimmacks that day. No make up, no fake moustache, no cap, no buck teeth—nothing, just Michael, raw and stripped back, the way that I liked him.

He was so, so, so gorgeous.

I realised that I was just gazing at him and he was doing the same. It was probably the most awkward thing for my brother to witness but I was pretty sure we’d both momentarily forgotten him. He held both of my hands beside our waists and finally again he hugged me. “You look so good,” he whispered, but I was sure my brother still heard.

“You do too… as always…”

I loved the way he engulfed me in his arms. His arms were thin but their strength was deceiving. I felt him draw me in, allowing myself to press myself against him. I breathed a silent sigh of contentedness.

Of belonging.

I had never felt as though I belonged anywhere on the earth. It was as though I was the outsider, always looking in, as I’d once described to Michael. Life happened around me, I watched the world turn but I didn’t ever feel like I was part of that.

I breathed him in, burying my nose in to his neck, inhaling the overpowering scent of his cologne and deodorant. “I missed you…” I murmured, kissing his neck.

“I missed you too,” he smiled as he slowly allowed me a minute before drawing away. I guessed he had become very aware that we had an audience.

It wasn’t like we hadn’t seen each other the night before, but still, it always felt wonderful to see him.

Even though I’d reluctantly pulled away, I couldn’t get my eyes off him. He was gorgeous in a casual and very unlike him, black hooded sweatshirt and a pair of dark blue jeans that were ill-fitted.

“Okay, okay, cut the mushy stuff, I get it, you both want to make total googly eyes with each other the whole time,” Kaito broke in, “but I’m here too…”

I laughed and finally let go of Michael. I turned to him, “did you guys come together?”

“Yeah, Mike offered me a ride,” he told me.

“Mike?” I rose an eyebrow and turned from Kaito to Michael as if asking where the nickname came from. Michael just chuckled and gave a shrug.

I dropped it, “thanks for coming, I wasn’t expecting either of you, I actually made some plans to do some painting with my friend, Julia, can you guys give me five?”

I saw a flicker of a smile on Michael’s face. He was happy that I’d made a friend, he had kept saying that to me, though there was nothing amazing about being friends with a sixteen year old.

It was hard to explain to Julia that she couldn’t meet my boyfriend. She had so many questions, she wanted so badly to hang out and meet my family – probably because her own family had all but checked out on her.

I went to explain to her that I had important visitors. I had confided in her earlier that the psychologist wanted me to have a joint therapy session with Michael before I could get clearance for day leave with him.

I understood why, but I was nervous about approaching him on the issue.

When I came back, I was pleased to find Michael and Kaito laughing incredibly hard at something silly. I didn’t even understand the joke that I’d walked in to that left them laughing so hard they couldn’t even breathe.

I let them go and waited for them to calm down, totally loving the fact that they were enjoying each other’s company.

“Hey look, I got you something…” Kaito told me, getting up after recovering from his laughter. He went to a bag and pulled out a container. “Its Mama’s Kifli.”

It was a bunch of different cakes Mom had made for me. I was excited about that.

“You didn’t get me anything, Mama did all the work here…” I told him, lifting the lid and inhaling the scent of the powdered sugar. “Thanks though…”

“How is your friend, did she understand?”

I nodded, “Yeah, she wanted to come and meet you guys, but obviously…”

Michael frowned, I knew he felt bad about it, but there was no alternative. If she slipped to anyone, or if she couldn’t control herself, there would be a problem for me.

“I’m sorry,” Michael murmured in apology.

“No, that’s fine,” I shook my head, “she doesn’t get a lot of visitors though, I think she’s trying to hone in on my family…”

“I’m sorry my heart, I just want to protect you,” he replied.

“I know, don’t stress…” I smiled at him. “So what’s happening?” I turned to Kaito, “how’s Mom and Dad and what’s Mama’s excuse for not coming to see me for three days?”

Kaito eyed me, wondering if that was a subject he could talk about in front of Michael. “Its okay, Kaito,” I told him, “Michael knows everything…”

“Oh…” he was a little comfortable, in fact both of them were.

“Mama’s struggling with seeing you in here. She’s gone to Aunt Katia’s house for a couple of days. Dad took her yesterday.”

I rolled my eyes. My aunt was a pain in the ass we all tried to see her as little as possible, including my father. She was intrusive and overbearing and helped my mother’s highly-strung attitude very, very little. “Whatever. It must be so hard to come here and visit me, given how much she struggled with turning a blind eye to her favourite son…”

“Don’t get worked up,” Michael told me gently.

“You’re right, though,” Kaito said, “I probably shouldn’t have told you that, I’m sorry.”

“No, be honest, I want you to be honest with me. It helps me make better decisions about who to trust and who I know I can and can’t rely on,” I replied, thinking back to my earlier psychologist session where we had talked about my supports.

Raia and I had talked in short about my abuse. I had shared just a little bit more with her in my previous session, but it was still an incredibly hard topic to touch on where I found myself restricted to one word answers. Yes I was molested. Yes it happened more than once. Yes, my abuser stayed in my life after he committed it.

In this session, I’d shared that it was my brother.

I didn’t want to go further in to it, so instead, she let it go and asked other questions.

“So we’ve talked about Michael, about what he does and how you fit in to his life, I was wondering, what’s his take on your past?”

I thought of Michael and how wonderful and amazing he had been. I remembered the night he had walked in after my nightmare and had said and done all the perfect things until I had calmed down.

“He’s perfect,” I told her, being brutally honest. “He knows all the right things to say, he knows how to be physically comforting and he knows the right indicators I send out when I need my own space and he’s very respectful of that.”

“Have you gone in to any details with him?”

“Yeah… he knows everything,” I nodded.

“What was it about Michael that made you feel comfortable enough to share all of that with him?” she wondered.

I looked at the psychologist who had her hair tied back. “He’s been hurt too. He understands. He knows how ill-spirited people can be and especially how badly you can be hurt by the people that claim to love you the most.”

I was careful with what I said, I didn’t want to give away any information that wasn’t appropriate.

“So you feel like you both relate in terms of trauma?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Aside from that, what’s your relationship like? How is your communication?”

“We laugh together a lot,” I told her, “he knows how to cheer me up, he is really funny and creative and I like to be creative too.”

“And what about physically, given your past? How do you find having to be physically intimate, has that ever been a problem for you?” I felt myself tense a little bit.

“I haven’t…” I shook my head, “not since … you know.” I breathed in, feeling my throat closing and a lump forming.

Truly, it was my biggest fear. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I wanted to be brave and I wanted to function like a regular adult woman. He was a giant turn on, his kisses turned me to liquid, his arms around me were protective and the trust I had in him was implicit, but I wasn’t quite sure that my body was ever going to allow me to cooperate.

“I can see that you’ve become a little bit upset by that idea,” she remarked.

“No shit, am I supposed to just find it easy? If it were that easy, I would have slept around,” I admitted to her. “Right now I just want to be a good girlfriend, I don’t want him to second guess his decisions with me.”

“Do you think he has expectations of you on a sexual level?” she asked me point-blank.

“Not at this point but he will… and I won’t know how to deal with it.” I paused, feeling my eyes fill up with tears, “there’s only so long he can go without being frustrated with me…” I quickly wiped the tears, “what have I done?” I asked rhetorically.

I could feel the anxiousness engulfing me. Raia handed me a box of tissues. She reminded me of the breathing exercises we’d been through together in one of my other appointments.

Once I’d calmed down, she asked me more questions, and the most important one; that if I was comfortable, would I involve Michael in a joint therapy session so that we would be able to talk through my intimacy issues.

At first I was against it, but more questions followed.

“How do you find Michael’s public persona? Does it make things feel difficult?” she asked.

“Well not yet. I don’t care about what the public thinks, I don’t care about his fame… I just want him.”

“But you know that this might be a hurdle at some stage, especially given the situation that he faces.”

I nodded. “He won’t go to jail,” I said with certainty. I wouldn’t allow it to enter my brain that he might end up getting convicted. “He is not guilty.”

“Does any of what he is being accused of trigger anything within you?”

“No,” I said, “I don’t care what was said because its not true. He is not capable of it…”

Raia didn’t say anything to that. It wasn’t her place to judge. “Michael is sensitive, he is tender and he is so full of love, he couldn’t even harm a fly… He will protect me from everything that he can, his public persona and the allegations against me, included.”

“You have very deep feelings for him, I can see that,” she remarked with a little smile. “What do you think about having a joint-therapy session with him?”

“I don’t know that he’d feel comfortable with that, he’s very private.”

“This therapy is a safe space, Malania, everything that gets said here is strictly confidential.” She paused, not allowing me to respond straight away, “he’s been visiting you a lot, from what I understand?”

I nodded.

“Can you think of anything that you’d like to be able to discuss with him where you might need or want some extra support?” she asked.

I thought of the things we had talked about; intimacy, sex, not punishing him for someone else’s mistakes. “Maybe,” I replied, a little choked up. “Maybe about being intimate… and I worry about him because…” I drew in a deep breath, “he is being so strong for me, but he’s under so much stress and I can’t physically be there to comfort him, that’s why I keep asking about my day releases. I wish he had an outlet like this.” I admitted, feeling like I could have given a great, big contented sigh.

 “Well, pending my professional assessment, I will be able to say yes or no to your request for day trips to see him.”

I felt like it was almost like a bribe. But, what else was I to do?

“Okay, I’ll talk to him and see how he’s going to feel about that, but I feel uncomfortable having to even ask him.”

“It could be good for the both of you to get these lines of communication open.”

And so I wanted some time alone with Michael to bring it up, to see how he felt about it. I knew he would have some serious reservations and I didn’t blame him.

I felt guilty for it, but I wanted to be alone with him. I wanted day release, I wanted to be able to not have someone watching me all the frigging time.

We all chatted a little for awhile but Kaito was quickly getting the hint that we wanted to be alone, which I was thankful for.

“Do you guys want some alone time? I can go for a walk if you want…”

“No, don’t be crazy…” Michael replied quickly, but I knew he was just being polite. Of course we wanted alone time.

“Actually, just a few minutes,” I said, “if that’s okay, sorry K.”

He smiled, grinned, actually, “Of course, I’ll go for a walk and have a chat to the nurses. Who knows, maybe I can meet myself a nice girl?” he joked.

I rolled my eyes. He laughed and waved, letting himself out of the room.

Michael got up and came to sit beside me on the bed, glad for Kaito to be gone. He seemed genuinely pleased to be with me. He smiled and took my hand and entwined my fingers within his.

“So, how have you really been?” he wanted to know.

I shrugged. “Struggling this morning a little bit,” I told him honestly.

“Yeah?” he drew his eyes up, staring at me with concern. “What’s happened, my heart?”

I avoided his eyes, “this morning my therapist and I had a long discussion about you and I… and it…” I paused, trying to find the bravery to bring it up. My eyes began to fill with tears, not being able deal with his expectancy.

“What is it?” he asked, letting go of my hand, putting an arm around me, “you can trust me…”

“it occurred to me that maybe I’ve led you on.”

Instantly his arm released me, I knew it stung him. “What, what do you mean?”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands. “I mean, it feels unfair of me to do this to you, to start a relationship –or whatever this is… and then to not be able to be physically intimate with you.”

“Oh,” he suddenly realised the issue. “Malania,” he started, “we can talk about this you know, we’re both adults… I’m not embarrassed.”

I was. I felt like a fucking child.

“My therapist wants me to involve you in a therapy session with us. Given what you’re going through, she wants to meet you and make sure we are not just making each other’s issues worse.”

“Me?” he asked, “she wants me to attend?”

I nodded. “I understand if you don’t want to… I feel sick thinking about having to expose you to something you don’t want to do.”

“No,” he said firmly, “I’m supporting you and I’m one hundred percent supporting your treatment. I’ve told you that from the start. I will be there, you just tell me when, my heart.”

A wave of relief washed over me. I expected things to suddenly get a bit tense. But no, Michael was a dreamboat to deal with.

“And listen, you’re not leading me on. I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions when it comes to you. I don’t feel like you’re leading me on, Malania, you’re my girl, I want to get through this with you.”

He knew the right thing to say. “Won’t it be hard for you?” I asked, “talking to a therapist about sex and intimacy with me?”

He smiled, “I didn’t say it’ll be easy, but we’ll fumble through it, it’ll be okay.” he said resolutely.

“Thanks…”

“She said that after she can clear that you and I are not self-destructive, she’ll approve day release for you. I asked about my family, if I could get day release with them and she said at this point she didn’t think it was a good idea.”

Michael was smiling. “Well, if you’ve told her anything about your family, I can understand her reaction.”

I turned to him, he reached up and took my cheeks in both of his hands. His hands were almost never warm and I almost always felt shock by how hard they were—it was as though he had been working in construction forever. I didn’t care, his touch made up for it. He was always sensual without even trying.

His fingers buried themselves in my hair, behind my ears. He kissed my lips softly and wiped the last of my tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry, don’t stress… I’ll do whatever I can to help…” he promised.

“What if I never want to sleep with you.”

He smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly, he averted his eyes from mine and looked at my lips. “That’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know?”

He chuckled, “I just know, I am confident that I can help you differentiate the difference between love and abuse when it comes to making love.”

I almost shivered but I was interiorly conflicted since I also felt my heart beating incredibly fast with anxiousness at the very thought.

He kissed me again. “I hope so…” I murmured.

“Have faith in yourself,” he told me, “in me. It’ll be alright, we’re going to take our time. I’m happy with the way things are between us.”

I nodded.

“So… day release, hey?” he changed the subject, “what do you want to do?” he asked, “anything you want, I’ll set it up.”

“Well… we probably can’t go stepping out in public. I really don’t want anyone to treat me different if they find out you’re my …” I stopped. What was he? “my um…”

“boyfriend?” he supplied. He grinned, “is that what I am to you?”

I laughed, “I don’t know… are you?”

“I guess…” he was embarrassed, I could tell the way he kept averting his eyes from mine, “If you’re happy with that, I’d love that to be the case.”

“So, I’m your girlfriend?” I pressed, fobbing off my reluctance and my anxieties.

“Well, considering I all but pledged my love for you to your father earlier, I think that’s probably an appropriate title.”

I almost asked if he loved me, but I stopped myself because he was careful to word his sentence so as not to profess it. I felt a little giddy. I was Michael Jackson’s girlfriend. What. The. Fuck.

“You look happy about that…” he remarked.

I giggled, “Yeah, I am very happy with that.” I looked down shyly. He pressed his lips against mine. “Can’t wait to start living our future.”

The future was in question given Michael’s situation, but neither of us wanted to recognise it.

“Me too.” I murmured.

He pulled away from me after caressing my hair and kissing me again.

“How’s Kaito, how come you guys came together?” I asked him.

Michael shrugged, “I wanted to get to know him a bit and make sure his heart is on the same page as mine.”

There was a big part of me that felt affection for him for being so protective, but I was also a bit miffed that he was suspicious of my big brother. “Kaito is okay, he has me at heart.”

“I know, we had a good chat. He has some news for you that I’m sure he’ll tell you, but before he does—I wanted to ask you point blank, are you comfortable moving in with him after you leave, or do you think its better that you stick with your parents or Anica?”

I shrugged.

“Well, my door is always open, you already know that.”

“I think Kaito is a good option. I think he’s going to be my best advocator when dealing with my family.”

“I think so too,” he agreed. “After Kaito and I leave, would you like me to come back on my own?”

I nodded, “that would be great.”

Michael smiled, “Okay, great…”

**

 Julia and I sat cross-legged on each end of my bed, both crocheting away from each end of the blanket we were working on together. It was a bit of a dog’s breakfast but she was so proud of it.

“I am so excited, I can’t wait to see my baby brother,” Julia informed me. She was supposed to be going home in two weeks, having completed the eight week treatment program.

“You’ve done so well, you should be really proud of yourself,” I told her, “I know I’m proud of you, your parents must be…”

She shrugged, ducking her head with embarrassment at my compliments.

“My Mom called me yesterday, they are leaving for Vegas the day that I get out of here, so I’m going to visit with a friend of the family until they get home.”

I felt for her. Her parents obviously had no issue ignoring her. “What do your parents do?”

“Its lame…” she murmured, “it’s a bit of a secret,” she began, “but… well, can I trust you?”

“Of course,” I showed her my buttoned lips.

She reluctantly opened her mouth. “my Dad is a movie star… you’d know him.”

“Really?” I was surprised. “I won’t ask who, but maybe you can tell me later when we’ve both left here.”

“Okay,” she agreed, “I’m not allowed to tell anyone anyway. I just get in the way of my mother, she wants to have a glam lifestyle,” Julia explained, crocheting away like it was nothing, “and so me being sick is a giant pain in the ass.”

“What about your Dad?” I asked, “what does he make of it?”

“Well, he tries to keep us all happy, but he won’t come and see me because he doesn’t want to risk anyone finding out that his daughter is in rehab, bad publicity for them… he’s on location anyway. Mom just doesn’t cope with me well.”

I felt awful for her. “Surely there’s a way they could sneak your Dad in…” I thought about Michael and how it was a bit irritating to some nurses, but mainly everyone went above and beyond for our confidentiality.

Julia shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. They think its all a poor little rich girl syndrome.”

“Why do you cut?” I asked her, “I mean, what made you want to?”

She thought about my question for a moment and shrugged again. She gave me a wry smile. “I don’t fit in,” she said simply, “and sometimes it gets too much.”

I thought of Michael. He often said the same to me. He never fit in. I felt it too. Maybe the pain of solitude did have something to do with our self-harm; some weird kind of commonality.

“What about you?” she asked me.

I sucked in a deep breath, I should have expected the question, but it sent me reeling a tiny bit. I decided to be honest as she had been with me. “Someone in my family abused me and my parents turned a blind eye and constantly defended that family member for years--- and so it left me feeling similar. Alone, not belonging, all of those things.”

Julia sighed. “Do you think even though we’re a bit broken, we’ll be able to piece ourselves together and live normal lives at some stage?”

“Absolutely.” I nodded with confidence, “we just need one person to believe in us…”

“Who’s that person for you?” she asked.

“Peter and my brother Kaito,” I told her without flinching. They were definitely my two biggest supports. “And you?”

 

“You…” she replied bluntly.

Chapter 43 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Lots of trigger warnings for this chapter. 

A little while after breakfast, the door to my room opened. There was no knock. Julia slipped in and left the door ajar a tiny bit. She waved at me and tip-toed over as if she was afraid she might get caught.

“I think you might have lied to me,” she remarked quietly and unmoved.

I rose an eyebrow, looking up from a book that I held in my hands. “In what way?”

She sat down on my bed without invitation which was okay. I suddenly felt my stomach cramp up. “It all kinda makes sense,” she added, “I just watched the news with a couple of people and I saw you with Michael Jackson.”

I felt my face burn red with embarrassment and fear all at once. I wasn’t embarrassed for being seen with Michael, but embarrassed that I had been caught lying. I hated lying to someone I cared about.

“Did anyone else recognise me?” I asked instantly. I am pretty sure the fear screamed out loud for me. My face was burning up. She shook her head, “No one cares about the news, it’s just background noise…”

I was scared that she might have been wrong about that. I felt my eyes filling with tears. “Please, you can’t tell anyone…”

Julia stared at me for a moment, “Well, I do take money in exchange for silence.”

I was shocked; I stared at her for a moment before my eyes completely spilled over.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Julia spoke quickly, getting up and coming to my side, throwing her arms around me, “I was so kidding, Malania, I will never breathe a word to anyone, I promise.” I hugged her back, laughing through my sob. It was the kind of joke I would have made, but still I hadn’t been quite expected her humour to be so dry.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, “I would never repeat it.”

“Thanks,” I replied as she let go of me. “It’s such a relief that you know, I felt awful making up excuses all the time.”

She sank back down on the mattress. “If it helps, I can tell you who my dad is?”

I knew how stupid it was logically to have some kind of collateral on my business, but I knew that her father’s identity was just as valuable to her as the that of my boyfriend.

“You don’t have to,” I replied even though I felt like she did. I wiped my eyes, feeling silly for my emotional outburst.

“He’s William Ruddell, my Mom is Winnie Hathaway.”

She had not been shitting me. “Are you kidding?” I didn’t think her Mom was famous.

“I thought your Mom just did her high society thing.” I remarked, pointing out a flaw in her story.

“When was the last time you saw a Winnie Hathaway film? Her career is washed up,” she spoke frankly, “Dad’s always been the star of the show. Mom’s career is nepotism at its finest… and I didn’t tell you she was an actress ‘cos I didn’t want you to connect the dots, the same way you did with Peter.”

Point made.

“Your Mom is still a good actress, she’s been in a lot of greats.”

Julia made a face, “She would have done better to concentrate on being a role model parent.” I got it after that, no more paying her mother compliments, she didn’t care for it. She had probably heard it enough growing up.

“Okay so this is a pact, right? I’ll not breathe a word about Michael to anyone and you won’t tell a soul about my parents either.” I almost laughed as she held out her pinky for a pinky swear. I obliged her.

She crossed her legs and bounced. I loved that she wasn’t overly starstruck about my news. “You know what?” She began, “My Dad has met Michael Jackson, like a bunch of times. Michael is friends with my Dad’s friend, Gregory Peck…”

“Oh cool,” I said, but where the fuck was this great and wonderful Gregory Peck when my boyfriend needed a friend. I just smiled.

“Poor Michael, he is going through a lot right now, they just said on the news that there is a lot of evidence going against him.”

I laughed cynically, “The extent of their evidence is bullshit. Its just media spin, they want to see him fry just because he’s different; that automatically makes a person guilty.”

“So you don’t believe it?”

“No,” I replied a little irritated, “how can I be with someone that I think is guilty of molesting a child? He’s not guilty, that is for sure.”

Julia said nothing before shrugging, “must be really hard for you both…”

“Not really, we’ll be fine,” I lied, sniffing, I was done talking about his case. It was making me uncomfortable.

“So, all of those things you said he did for you, that’s really true?” she asked, “like that necklace?” She nodded to the Tiffany & Co one that dangled around my neck.

I giggled, “Absolutely, he is Michael Jackson, he’s not imaginary.”

“And so he’s been here?” I nodded as everything fell in to place for her.

“Oh wait, so Michael Jackson calls you every night before bed and you read together?”


I laughed. I had told her about how Michael often called me before bedtime and read along with me with the book that I was reading. We took turns reading pages because I loved to hear the expression in his voice and he claimed to love mine, too.


“Yeah, he does that…”


“That’s pretty cute. So if all those things you’ve told me about him are true, he must be a pretty amazing man. In my experience, celebrities are pricks. I hate that lifestyle.”


I knew that she had had a very different experience.


“To be fair, I’m not looking to indulge that lifestyle. I don’t want any of that, I just want Michael,” I told her, “I don’t care about his friends, his money, his success, he is who I’m with.”

“So he’s romantic, and sweet and protective – I love that, he seems so private that you could never guess those things from looking at him.”


“I guess you could meet him if you wanted, since you know now…” I told her, “I bet he would be okay with that. I’ve told him about you – he brought me all that wool for the blanket, remember?”


Julia laughed, “Oh yeah…”


I felt so much more relaxed and less lonely knowing that she was aware and that my secret was safe with her. It gave me yet another outlet to discuss my feelings. I was very careful of what I said because she was sixteen, but, it still felt good to say something.

**

 

Michael looked tired when he walked in to the room. He smiled politely at Raia and turned to me; he gave me a weary smile and I realised that he hadn’t slept properly, which concerned me.

 

“Sweetheart, hello,” he greeted me. I stood up and he gave me a warm, tight hug. He kissed my cheek, being a bit polite in front of the psychologist.


We broke away and Raia asked him to take a seat. He gestured for me to sit first, holding his hand out, guiding me by the small of my back in to the chair that he was asked to sit in, “here you go…” he said, “you sit there…” typical Michael, always giving up something for someone, even if it was just a chair. He sat down in the less comfortable looking one of the two.


“Hi Michael, thank you for joining us today. My name is Raia.”


“Nice to meet you…” He barely waited for her to answer and since it was the first time we’d seen each other in two days, he turned all his attention to me for a moment.


“How are you?” he asked, ignoring the psychologist, his voice was lowered as if he thought she might not hear him.


“Good now…” I replied with a reassuring smile. I wasn’t sure if it was convincing though. I was anxious about the session; I was fidgety and once I’d realised that he’d had very little sleep, I became nervous about that, too. He seemed a little bit off. “How about you? Everything okay?”


He nodded and gave me the same smile; a little more unconvincing. It didn’t take an idiot to know that he would have rather be anywhere else besides that therapy session, but I appreciated that he was supporting me.


We both started with some small non-verbal talk.  Michael held out his palm to me and waited patiently for me to place my hand inside of his. We communicated through gentle squeezes, letting each other know that we were okay, or to help us through our nerves. 


I knew he was nervous too. He hadn’t spoken to a therapist in a long, long time, or so he’d told me.

 

“How do you both feel about us meeting for this session?” she asked us, “We’ll start with you first, Malania?” Raia asked me.


I shrugged. I had a habit of covering my mouth when I was nervous. I propped my chin up with my free hand, resting my arm on the leather chair and muffling my words beneath the sleeve of my cardigan. “I don’t know, a little anxious maybe.”

Raia looked to Michael, “do you have any thoughts?”


My boyfriend was a diplomatic man by nature, especially when he needed to be. “Nervous, but hopefully it will go smoothly, we can open up some lines of communication, and you can give me some ideas or tools that I need to help support Malania in the short and long term,” he answered.


She seemed satisfied with his thoughtful response. I squeezed his hand in appreciation. He squeezed back.


Thanks
.


“So, over the past three weeks, Malania and I have discussed a lot of things and among those things, we’ve began talking about you,” Raia began, looking at Michael. He avoided her eye contact, he did that sometimes when he was feeling shy, but I noticed he kept catching himself and meeting her stare again. “You’ve picked a very loving and loyal person to involve in your life.”


Michael made a noise that signified his agreement. I just smiled a little bashfully.


“Since I don’t know you, Michael, I would like to ask a few questions, but first I’ll let you know that anything we discuss here is strictly confidential –“ she went through her spiel about mandatory reporting which she did with me the first time we ever sat together for a session. Once he’d agreed, she began.


“Can you tell me about your relationship with Malania?” she asked, “How would you characterise it? What do you like about her? What do you think are some of the challenges in this relationship?” 

They were some very loaded questions. I was both scared and curious to see how he’d respond.


He took a few moments and I felt him shift uncomfortably in his chair. “Well,” he started, scratching the back of his neck in thought. “She’s beautiful,” he said bluntly. I saw a smile forming on his face but he kept most of himself reeled in and serious, “inside and out. She was always honest- honesty in my lifestyle is something that flies fast and loose. Malania has always been honest even in cases where she thinks I might not like to hear it and that is impressive, because I don’t encounter that kind of honesty often.”


Raia said nothing and realising that she was expecting more, he began to fill the silence.


“I call her my girlfriend, I characterise her as my girlfriend; of someone that I’d like a future with if that’s our destiny. We’ve grown from having a friendship to the attraction to what we have now…”

I squeezed his hand and he did the same. “Malania is witty, honest, caring and supportive…and I think she’s incredible to look at, physically,” he added with a shy, little chuckle.



I felt my face redden.


“And what about challenges, what do you think could potentially be an issue?”

Michael thought for a few moments and looked at me for help. I didn’t want to say anything to impede his honesty. “It's okay, you’re allowed to be brutally honest, I won’t be hurt,” I told him even though I wasn’t sure about that. 

“Well,” he drew in a deep breath after a lingering gaze in to my eyes to see if I was truly okay with it all. “I suppose, part of my concern is based around how Malania might deal with stress. I’m enduring a difficult time in my life right now and I know that can be upsetting to deal with; I don’t know what the future holds for me and I don’t want to burden her, or trigger anything for her.” 

I shook my head quickly. “Nothing you do triggers me, Michael, I promise.” I said quickly, trying to assure him.


“But for instance, what if… you hear something; you hear the actual details of the accusation and it's triggering? I don’t want to be responsible for causing you to harm yourself.”


“It won’t,” I murmured. Despite my earlier promise, I couldn’t help but to feel a bit upset that he could think that I would harm myself because of him. 


“It’s a fair concern, Malania,” Raia told me gently, “you’ve been prone to self-injury in situations where you feel trapped and alone, or when you aren’t quite sure how to process your upset.”


I said nothing, I knew it was all true.


“What else if anything?” Raia pressed.  After a moment of silence, Raia pressed harder, "Michael, forgive me if my radar is off, but I get the sense that there is more that you aren't saying".

Michael shrugged. A moment later, with some hesitation and a squeeze of my hand, he added, “It’d be dishonest to say I don’t wonder about sex… And maybe its not really a concern so much as it is a thought; again, I don't want to trigger something that may cause Malania to want to harm herself.”

I felt tears welling up and betraying the part of me that pretended not to feel hurt by honesty. I was hurt. “You said so yourself, though,” I told him, “you’ll help me differentiate love and abuse in that type of a situation.”


Michael let go of my hand and put an arm around me and drew me closer to him, kissing my temple. “I’m sorry,” he said apologetically, “I don’t mean to upset you, I just want to be honest so that we can move ahead – both of us.”

 

“How important do you feel like sex is, in a relationship?” Raia directed the question to me. She eyed me and handed me a box of tissues so I could wipe my eyes. The whole time, Michael fussed over me, caressing the inside of my arm, trying to keep me calm.


“I don’t know…” I laughed sardonically, “how the fuck would I know? In all my infinite experience with the opposite sex?” It seemed like such an absurd question.


“Do you feel like you should have to have sex because Michael wants it? Do you feel like it's something you both need to do on a regular basis, or…?”


I shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t know how I feel about sex. I obviously want to have a functioning relationship with my boyfriend. I’ll eventually want to sleep with him and share that with him and I hope to goodness that I won’t feel like it’s a chore or a traumatic experience…”


“Don’t get mad,” Michael soothed me, “it's okay…”


“Michael is right,” Raia smiled gently, “I understand that you’re getting upset because this can be a frightening subject given your history, Malania, so nobody expects you to have all the answers – after all, there is no right or wrong in this…”


I nodded with a sniff. I rested my head on Michael’s shoulder as he comforted me.


Next, she directed the same question to him.


“I don’t really know either. Sex is important, but… I can wait, I’m not losing my mind wondering when it will be. I actually don’t like to jump in to things like that anyway, I like to get to know someone very well before I decide to take that road…”


I couldn’t help but to think bitterly about Diane. As if he was thinking the same, he added more. “With my ex, I waited almost six months…”


“Don’t do that…” I lifted my head and spoke in monotone.


“What?” he asked. I let go of his hand feeling instantly vexed.


“Don’t compare any aspect of what we have or might have with Diane… I don’t like her name and I’ve told you not to compare our relationship to yours with her.”


Michael laughed in disbelief, “Firstly, what, you don’t like her name? I assure you, there are worse things to like about her than her name,” he shot back defensively. “Secondly, I wasn’t comparing, I was just highlighting that the wait is not an issue, I’ve done it before and I can do it again, it didn’t kill me.”


I felt instantly angered by her name. “You know what I mean,” I muttered.


Raia watched with a little bit too much interest. “Catch me up, if you can,” she said to either of us.


Michael went to speak but I interrupted, “His ex is currently part of a criminal investigation against him. She currently either is pretending that she thinks he molested her daughter, or thought so little of him for three or so years that she believes he molested her daughter, and he compares me to her or brings her up far too often.”


I heard Michael draw in a deep breath as if he were trying to calm himself down. Raia turned to Michael. “How do you want to respond to that?”


“How can I?” he asked, “I’m still processing what’s happening with me, how am I never supposed to think about her or bring her up? Malania asked me once about 3 weeks ago to not compare them, which was fair. I hadn't noticed I was doing it—but it's not because I’m constantly drawing comparisons between two women, it's because I’m still processing everything.  I thought I loved my ex, but the feelings I have for Malania are unlike anything I’ve felt, so I’ve been kind of… in awe of this new feeling, but at the same time grieving my stupidity in the old situation.” 

I felt bad when he fleshed out his feelings like that. How was he so good at this? Was he just telling Raia what he wanted to hear?


“Malania, you say you don’t like the mention of her name or to hear him compare you- what’s the fear?”


I looked at my feet and back at Michael with the tears still in my eyes. As if forgiving my anger, he grabbed my hand again.


“What if…” I bit my lip, “what if she drops the case, realises she’s wrong… wants back in to your life and you, based on your heart for Casey... you just let her walk right back in.”


“Nope,” he shook his head, “Nope, never going to happen,” he responded. “I’ve cleaned her room out, I’ve sent away all her belongings. If this trial clears up or gets dropped, I have those belongings ready to send to her, because obviously I still want her to have them, it's not her fault that her mother is a liar, but it's over, Malania. That old life is very, very, very over now. I am hoping with all of my everything that you are my future.” 


I felt silly. I looked at Raia, who wore a tiny smile on her face.



“Malania, how does it feel to hear Michael say that?”

It was true, Michael always knew the right thing to say and I believed his words, but Diane’s name still angered me. “Maybe I know all those things, but it makes me angry that she is walking around with Michael’s heart in her pocket and she is slowly but surely destroying him in every which way…”


“She’s not destroying me,” he said simply, “I’m stronger than that.”


I knew he was allaying my fears. Obviously I would have never said it in the therapy session—but I begged to differ. I remembered his confession about prescription drugs and the way he admitted to cutting and harming and suicidal thoughts.

“Fine…” I mumbled. I would finish that discussion later.

 

“Okay?” he squeezed my hand. I glanced at him beside me. He looked desperate for me to believe him. “Okay?” he asked again.


“Okay…” I nodded slowly.


“Let's go back to the intimacy part of the discussion—what you suggested earlier, Michael… about the waiting and the importance of sex. How do you rate your sex life? Are you currently satisfied with your sex life?”


I finally laughed. “I don’t really care about my sex life at this point,” I said bluntly.


“Michael, what about you?”


“Well I’m not sleeping with Malania and I’m not certainly sleeping with anyone else, so its hard for me to answer that at this time.”

“And how do you feel about that? Does it bother you that as a man in your 30s you’re not in an intimate relationship with the girl that you’ve said yourself, you want a future with?”


“I don’t know…” Michael murmured as if a mirror was finally put on the problems that we faced. I’m sure that thought made him feel sad. “It doesn’t bother me because I suppose I do expect that to change at some stage.”


“How long do you think it might take you to want to sleep with Michael?” she asked me. I felt the pressure on me; I felt my face growing warm, getting embarrassed.


“Raia, how can I know that?” I asked, “how am I supposed to know?”


I noticed one of her techniques was silence. The longer she was silent for, the more I talked. I hated silences and I tried to fill them. I held back this time though.


"I'm not asking you to know, per se. I'm hearing that you and Michael are coming from two very different sexual backgrounds and the feeling that I'm getting is that you've yet to really discuss this. That space of not really knowing where you guys stand, puts a lot of pressure on both of you."

I drew in a deep breath. I felt uncomfortable. I shifted in my seat and let go of Michael’s hand clasped mine in my lap. When I didn’t say anything, she turned to Michael.


“Michael are you aware of this? That there might be some very big challenges ahead in terms of your physical relationship?”


“Yes,” he replied without flinching.


“How prepared are you, do you think, to wait for Malania to be ready to take that next step with you?”


It was his turn to shift uncomfortably. “What do you think is a good time frame? A month? A year?”


“Well,” he chuckled uncomfortably, “I hope it wont be a year, but if Malania is doing all the right things to ensure she is working through this, then I’ll work through it with her, that’s what you do, you stay loyal regardless of the trials and tribulations.”


“Sometimes though, the frustration can put a freeze on everything else.”


I hated Raia in that moment. It felt like she was continually trying to give him reasons to second-guess things with me.


“I know that,” he replied, “but sex isn’t everything. Malania and I have been spending time together for a few months now, I’ve never felt any frustration with her before.”


“So what importance do you place on sex?” she asked him.


“I feel like sex brings two people together… it's almost like…” he paused, “it sounds corny, but it’s a communion of souls, really more so than it is about the physical act…”


I listened to him talk and felt suddenly very childish and stupid.

 

“How many women have you slept with?” I asked Michael point-blank, cutting off his soul, spirit, cosmic sex bullshit.


“What?” he asked with a disbelieving laugh, as if he thought I might be kidding.


“How. Many. Women?” I asked again.


“Seriously? Why do you want to know that?”


“Because you’re talking about sex like it's only meant to be done with one woman your whole life, yet I’m pretty sure you’ve slept with quite a few women.”


He seemed irate with me. I didn’t really care, I was irate with him too. “Four,” he answered, holding my gaze, trying to figure out why or what I was thinking. “I’ve slept with four women in my time. Do you want names and dates as well?” he asked bitingly.


“I know about Diane and Taryn – who else?”


“Are you serious? Malania, do you need to know all this? What does it help?”


“I just want to know.”


“One of my ex’, Carolina, and I lost my virginity to a woman whose name I don’t remember, actually.”

I made a face, highly disappointed. “Great, so your first time was about as life-altering as mine.” I spat sarcastically.


Raia didn’t say a word. She let us duke it out.


“That wasn’t your first time.” Michael said quietly.


“Oh yeah, you’re right, I relived the memory umpteen times over, thanks for reminding me. My brother was probably the equivalent of about 20 men.”


Don’t…” he murmured.


“I think what Michael means, Malania, is that while your first sexual encounters were real and the literal physical act, it was an abusive and forced situation.”


“Right…” Michael was quiet and something had changed in his tone. “He hurt you and he abused you. Your first time will be about someone loving you and wanting to be intimate with you because they love you, not because they want to hurt you.”

 

He sounded like he was done with me and I didn’t really blame him. Even I was done with me.


I didn’t mean to cry, but when I started it turned to sobs; the ugly kind. I kept apologising and they both kept telling me it was okay, but it wasn’t okay and I wasn’t sure it would ever be okay.


They both kept trying to tell me affirming things; that we were working through it, that it was going to take time and that they both believed that with therapy, with support and with love, I would get through it, but I didn’t believe them.


How could sex ever be something that wasn’t terrifying to me? Even sleeping some nights was terrifying.



Michael joined me back inside my room shortly after I had arrived on my own. I wanted to be alone. I was too ashamed to let him console me or try to waste another second of his time on me.


And also, I was embarrassed because I couldn’t stop crying, despite how hard I tried. It was all too exhausting for me to deal with.

I lay on my side with my back to the door. I heard him come in; I knew it was him just by his quiet, calm presence. He came to my side of the bed and I felt the weight shift as he took a seat. I didn’t make eye contact. I was sure this was the most unattractive I’d ever been to him. I knew my face was red and blotchy. My nose was full of snot and my face hurt. If Michael cared though, he didn’t show it.


“My heart,” he began, “today was tough, wasn’t it?” he reached up, stroking my hair from the side of my face with his forefingers.


I just nodded, closing my eyes. “I hope you don’t feel like I am ever putting any expectation on your shoulders…” he said in a soft, soothing kind of way.


I said nothing in response. “I care about you so much… I hate what happened to you and I know that you’ve never really had the proper time to grieve it because you’ve never really had anyone to tell or anyone for support… but part of being with someone is leaning on them.”


I didn’t know what to say, or even if he expected me to say something. He continued stroking my hair, allowing me time to respond if I wished.


I didn’t.


“Lean on me, okay? The way I leaned on you in the early days. You’re allowed to get mad sometimes, even if you need me as your punching bag,” he gave me a little smile, “I’ll get over it.”


“I don’t want to hurt you just because I’ve been hurt,” I confessed. My voice was tearful and wavering with the stifled sobs. I wanted him to leave so that I could let go.


“I know…” he nodded. “We never want to hurt the ones we care about, but sometimes we do and it's okay.”


“I think,” I stopped to breathe in a sob, “I think I want to be alone.”


His short strokes of my hair slowly came to a halt. He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Okay,” he agreed, “but don’t shut me out…”


Whatever, I thought, I didn’t want to hurt him, but I was sure I was going to hurt him more in the long run.


“This is for you…” he pulled something out of his pocket and put it beside my pillow. “Just put some thoughts into a song for you…”

 

There was no hug nor a kiss on the lips; just a simple, friendly kiss on my temple. It even felt a bit weird. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning to see how you’re feeling, k?”


I nodded, reaching up to cover the neatly folded papers.


He was reluctant to leave but he knew he needed to give me time, I just needed to cry alone. I needed to feel sad. I needed to grieve for the relationship I’d just lost before it had even began.


It wasn’t fair on him. It was too cruel to expect to have a future with someone who couldn’t even act as a functioning member of society.


I was damaged goods, he should have just put me in the trash and moved on.


And maybe he wanted to, if he did, I wouldn’t have blamed him.

Chapter 44 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Trigger warning for this chapter, guys. 

Chapter 44

 

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I hadn’t spoken to Michael for four days and he was relying on updates on my state of mind from Kaito. I didn’t even want to see my parents or my sister. Kaito came to sit in with me some afternoons. He didn’t press me for conversation; he just kept me company. 

Since Michael couldn’t speak to me, he sent me flowers and a basket of things to cheer me up that he had put together himself to cheer me up. A couple of books, some rose-scented soaps, some junk food and another song.


I needed to see him to let him down easy. I couldn’t just continue to ignore him. It was going to kill me to let him go, but I couldn’t stand to face my fears; I couldn’t stand to tell him later that things weren’t going to work out.


It wasn’t him, it was me. It sounded like a stupid cliché, but it was rang loud and true. I was far too damaged for him and I wasn’t even sure I could ever be fixed.


Julia tried to console me but I didn’t even want to get out of bed, not until I decided I at least owed him an explanation in person.


Then the hard part; I had to convince Raia that I was in an acceptable mind frame for the day release that still hadn’t been approved ‘cos I had refused to see her.


The appointment wasn’t exceptionally eventful. I sat in the couch as usual and declined to answer anything in any great depth.


Had I thought much about my discussion with Michael?


Had we had any discussions regarding the therapy session?


Why did I feel it was so important to see him?


What did I think could be gained by going on a day release visit over a regular inpatient visit?


It was all so tedious. In the end, I pointed out that Michael had proved himself, it was really just me who was the one who struggled. I told her I needed to meet with him to talk face to face without feeling like we were constricted to time or the confines of space.


Surprisingly, Raia agreed.


My day release was approved. I had called Michael and he had jumped at the opportunity to come pick me up. I could tell in his voice that he was relieved and pleased to hear from me which hurt. I knew it would break my heart to hurt him.


I waited nervously as if I were walking a plank. Carsen arrived for me while Michael waited in the car. He had to sign some documents in the admission office.


I could see Julia peering out at me longingly. She waved when we caught eyes. I smiled at her, she was my biggest supporter inside the confines of the treatment centre. The night earlier she forewent art classes to hang out with me even if I didn’t feel like talking.


We watched TV together. It was nice to just have the presence of someone with me.


Carsen led me to the car and opened the door for me. As I got in, I glimpsed Michael and my heart skipped a beat and my breath got caught in my throat. He looked beautiful. In fact, stunning.


Michael looked shower fresh and smelled amazing. His damp hair fell to his shoulders and he wore a pair of black dress pants, a yellow button down shirt and a black fedora on his head.


He flashed me a grin.


Ugh
.


I almost burst in to tears right there. He scooted closer to me and tried to kiss me on the lips. He didn’t immediately understand that things weren’t okay. He hugged me and I hugged him back, but it was polite and I drew away as quickly as he had embraced me.


He didn’t seem to notice at first.


“What are we doing?” he asked, “we can go back to my hotel for the day?”


“Sure, okay,” I answered. I felt him slip his hand into mine without a word. He eyed me for a moment and I instantly knew he had picked up that something wasn’t right.


He didn’t say anything, but his body went a little rigid. He didn’t let go of my hand, but he loosened his grip and stared straight ahead almost coldly. I should have been relieved, but instead it just made me feel worse.


It felt like the longest drive to the hotel, but it was only a few minutes. We got out and shifted wordlessly through a backdoor and up the room service lift. He and Carsen led me to the top level and into his suite.

It was huge. He could have set up camp and lived there. Well, it looked like he had. It was messy and cluttered with lots of his belongings—mostly books. There were so many books on one side of the room that I wasn’t sure what he planned on doing with them.


“Thanks Carsen,” Michael interrupted my thoughts, leaving his bodyguard at the door. He closed it and turned to me. Still without a word he took a seat on the couch as I walked around, taking in my surroundings.


“You know,” he began, his voice was soft and even, “I waited for you to call me all week. I have been sitting here, going insane over you and trying to piece together just what it was that I did wrong…”


“You didn’t do anything wrong, Michael…” I told him daring to meet his eyes. They were dark and broody. I half expected him to be angry, but he just looked a little broken and I hadn’t seen that look since before I was hospitalised


“Why do I feel like you’re coming here to tell me that you never want to see me again?”


I slowly found my way around the room and back to the seat next to him. I sighed.


“And…” he sighed too, leaning back in the couch with a bit of shock, “you’re not even going to deny that that’s why you’re here…”


“Michael,” I began. He didn’t look at me. He stared at the ceiling frowning and looking angry and sad both at the same time. I didn’t think that anything could have upset me more than when he let go of himself after the arraignment. This was different though, this was directed at me. I was causing this. “Michael,” I tried again. 


My voice was cracking and I knew I was ready to cry. “You are the best.” I told him, “you are good, so, so, so, so good.”


“Don’t,” he said quickly, “don’t list these thin-veiled personal traits and end it with you telling me you’re not interested, that’s not fair. I’d rather you just say what you need to say and leave me alone.”


I was surprised by the sudden chill in his voice. I’d been wrong, it was easier when he was sad.


“Michael I can’t do this… I can’t, and that therapy session made me see it. Its not fair to you”


He shot up and held his hands over his face. My heart jumped to my throat when I noticed a long cut on his wrist. He’d been harming. “Michael, I don’t want to hold you back…”


“Stop making my own decisions for me!” he shouted back at me, finally losing his cool. I wasn’t expecting it and cringed slightly. “Everyone always makes my decisions for me!” he spat, “and I’m tired of it! If I want to be with you, then I should be allowed to be with you if that’s what you want, too.”


“But—“


“But nothing!” he came close, getting in to my personal space, “You have issues, I have issues, so fucking what, Malania, welcome to adult life! You teach me and I teach you – we’ve both had shit upbringings, we’ve both had shit things happen to us, but you don’t get to decide what’s good for me.”


He had tears filming in his chestnut eyes and I realised he was on edge. I shrunk away a little, frightened of him getting so close when he was so mad.


“I don’t want to hurt you,” I told him meekly.


He threw his head back and laughed. “You don’t want to hurt me?” he asked as if he disbelieved it. “Well then why the fuck are you here saying these things to me?”


I looked at my hands. He crouched down in front of me and I couldn’t help but to flinch as I was struck by a memory of my brother. I didn’t really expect that Michael may hurt me, but there was a tiny part of me that had been burned by previous experience. I felt the softest touch on my arms. I held my face in my hands, burying them so that I didn’t have to see his anger.


“Malania,” he began gently, “please don’t do this to me… okay?” I dared to look at him and saw that he was tearful. It broke my heart.


I didn’t know what to say.


“I don’t care if you don’t want to be intimate with me. I will wait as long as it takes, and if it doesn’t ever happen, I don’t even care.” I knew it was his heartbreak talking, but nevertheless I let him continue,

 

“You’re my best friend, I’m all alone and I’m waiting for you and I need you. You’re the only person I’ve ever told all of this to, I trust you… and” he paused. His eyes fell closed and I watched tears fall from the corners of his eyes, streaking their way down his cheeks.


That was it for me; I couldn’t stand to see him that upset. I couldn’t hold my tears in.


“Please,” he begged, “I didn’t want to do this, I didn’t want to be this man… but I need you.”


I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands. “I’m so scared that I will fuck this up…” I cried, “I don’t want you to look back at me the same way you look back at Diane; realising that this was a giant mistake.”


“The mistake was falling in love with the idea of a family. A mistake isn’t falling in love with someone who is in love with me, too.”


I wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did know I loved him. Loving him as a fan was different, loving him as Michael, my friend, my boyfriend – that was something else. I’d never quite said the words, but I was sure it showed in my actions.


“You love me, don’t you?” he asked, kneeling, inching closer. His voice was so weak, like he could burst in to sobs at any moment. He pulled my hands from my face. I nodded tearfully. “I do,” I told him, “I do love you…”


I felt my tears continue to fall, hoping that it would take with it all of my fears and anxiety. Michael sniffed, wiped his eyes and took my face in his hands. I could barely look at him. I was sure we both looked as pathetic as one another.


“I love you, too,” he said, “I want to be with you. I don’t care what it takes. I want to be as fiercely loyal to you as you have been to me, Malania, I don’t want you to drop everything and run the second that life gets hard.”


“You don’t get it, Michael…” I told him with frustration as soon as a sob escaped.


“I do,” he replied in a way that sounded pleading. “Love is enough, the rest of it? It can be worked with or worked around.”


I wasn’t so sure.


“Please…” I was weakening under his touch. “Don’t leave me, let me make the choice, it’s not your right to decide for me.”


“Michael, I’m scared.” I admitted to him, “you scare me.”


He retracted his hands and rested them on my knees. He seemed defeated. “Why?” he asked as though he were afraid to hear the answer.


“I’m scared to have sex, I’m scared to have sexual feelings, I’m scared when you come near me, or when you touch me in a sexual way that I’m going to start freaking out!”


He drew in a deep breath. “So what if you do, Malania? So fucking what? I don’t want to marginalise it, but god, I’ll just back off. I’m not your brother, I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise… You say stop and I’ll stop… Who do you think I am?”


I buried my face again and cried, letting it out.


He got up and sat beside me and encircled an arm around me. “I mean it, I love you. I’m in love with you and it’s not misdirected for once, but you just need to trust me. Don’t try to spare me or protect me, I can make my own decisions.”


I collapsed against him, letting him hold me. I embraced him back and I knew it was my silent way of giving in. “I need you, Malania, really, I need you more than you know…”


When I said nothing, when I continued to cry, he held me. “It’s okay for you to be scared, I’m scared too, I start freaking out on occasion as well, it’s normal when you’ve been hurt as much as we both have,” he said with emphasis as he continued to comfort me.


After some moments, I sat up and composed myself. I wiped my eyes. “It’s just really hard for me…” I murmured.


“I know…” he empathised, smoothing my hair softly, his fingertips raking through the ends and tickling my back in that lovely sort-of way that he always did.


He was familiar.


“Sweetheart,” he started, “be honest with me, what scares you the most?”


I was rife with shame over how patient and kind he was being to me, despite my attitude and my inability to handle the stress of what my fears and trauma was impressing upon me.


I dared to look at him. He looked forlorn and sad, but his tears had dried and rather than looking angry, he was frowning.

“Just…” I looked up at the roof and drew in a deep breath as if I was summoning up some strength to answer him honestly. “I don’t know how to say it…”


“We’re both adults… albeit shy ones, but we can do this…” he said with a little chuckle, trying to cheer me out of my tears. He did manage to make me choke on a half-sob, half-laugh. He took my hand and gave it a squeeze for encouragement.

 

“I keep thinking about how… sometimes…,” I gave a shaky sigh, “when I see you, I just don’t want to do anything but just grab you and kiss you…” I told him bravely, “and sometimes, Michael, that’s not enough…”


I looked away from him when he began to show me the smallest hint of a smile. He went to say something but I cut him off, “I think about more, like…” I paused to wipe my face as some tears escaped, “what if I initiate something, what if we are sleeping in the same bed, what if I think I’m ready for it to go further and then I can’t…”


Michael just shrugged, “That’s oh-kay,” he said softly, “what do you think I’m going to do in that situation? What’s your worst fear?”


“What you said before… you could get frustrated, you could… try to convince me or hurt me…” if he was insulted, he didn’t let it show, he just continued to shake his head, “or worse than all of that, I’m afraid I’ll lose you; that you’ll just get mad and get sick of wasting your time on me.”


“Nope…” he said simply, “I will never hurt you. The second you tell me to back off, I’ll back off… I’m not going to get mad, I’m not going to try to convince you. I respect you. You don’t hurt the people that you love.”


I felt awful, as though he was reminding me of how I was hurting him.


“I’m sorry for hurting you.”


“You will break me if you leave me…” he remarked in a brazen blunt way. “I don’t need my heart broken again… I’m not messing around with you.”


I squeezed his hand. “What if I can’t be fixed…” I asked him, “what if I can never sleep with you?”


He half smiled. “I don’t want to tell you that it won’t ever be an issue if that happens, cos you know it’ll be a lie, but I want you to believe me when I tell you that it’s not going to be like this forever. You’ll learn over time that love and abuse are not mutually exclusive.”


“But love can be abusive…” I murmured.


“No, when love turns to abuse, it ceases to be love,” he let it sink in for a moment before looking at me with a little smile that grew. “Girl,” he began in a voice that I could tell was good-natured, “when you feel like you’re ready, you won’t even question things, I can promise you that.”


I was able to chuckle at his confidence, if only because it was a release from the sadness, but probably because I knew he was kidding with me but was also expressing his confidence in his abilities so as and trying to curb my insecurity. Though, even though his remark was mostly kidding, it made my heart flutter in the anxious way.


“I hope you’re right,” I told him, turning serious again.


“Well, I’m right about the part where you’ll get through it. You will. It’ll take time, but we have that… I’m not so sure about the part where I’ll be so good at sex that you won’t be left wondering why you’re still hanging around with me…”


I chuckled again at his silly self-deprecating humour. “I’m sure you have nothing to be insecure about there, not that I’d really know anyway.”


He drew me close and kissed my temple. “Trust me, okay?” he asked, “just trust me…”


I slowly nodded, staring straight ahead thoughtfully at the television that was switched off.


“If you love me, you’ll love me enough to let me decide what I can and will wait for,” he added.


I turned to him and surveyed his sweet, caramel skin. His eyes searched mine. I knew he wanted to kiss me, I could see it in the way that he kept flicking his gaze down to my lips. He held himself back though and I was glad about that. I didn’t feel like kissing him, I just wanted to chill out. I wanted to calm down. I felt awful. My head hurt, my cheeks were puffy and my eyes stung from crying. “Okay…” I replied, letting go of that dark knot in the pit of my gut that told me to run far away.


I’d never been a stay and fight kind of girl. The flight to survive was usually my way. “I love you and I mean that…” I told him again. “I felt like it was too soon to tell you, but… you were being so honest with me, and I…”


He shook his head, “You don’t have to explain yourself… I’m glad. It means I can finally admit it as well without feeling pathetic…” he smiled. “I love you, too.”


I loved the way it sounded coming from his mouth and tried to push my fears away and just completely trust him.


“You told me once that you wouldn’t punish me for someone else’s shitty mistakes, I want you to at least keep your word with that.”


“I promise…”

 

He kissed my temple again. “I feel like shit…” I remarked, “I have a headache and I bet I look like a hot mess.”


He laughed. “Well, you’ve been bawling, so you’re not running for Miss America right now, but I don’t care… I think you’re beautiful even when your face is red and your eyes are a bit puffy… I know I’m certainly no Picasso…”


“Yes you are,” I smiled, “you’re always stunning…”


He had been crying too but there was no trace of tears or evidence of them anywhere. At least he was a little more dignified than I was.


**


The afternoon was a little less emotional. I had a shower in his bathroom and felt a lot better. We started the day again.


Michael ordered us some room service. I couldn’t wait to eat something that wasn’t made in a giant vat and served with a weird smell.


The food at the treatment centre wasn’t awful, but nothing beat eating something a bit more fancy than mass produced meals.

 

“Do you personally know William Ruddell?” I asked Michael as I took a forkful of spaghetti bolognaise.


“Yeah, actually… I wouldn’t say he is my friend, but I know of him, why? Are you a fan?” he wondered with a little smile, almost mocking.


“First of all, he’s totally ancient and secondly, no.” I shot back, “he’s the father of my friend Julia in the treatment centre.”


Oh,” he remarked, “seriously?”


“Really, really…”


“Hmm… small world,” Michael remarked, sitting back in his chair at the small dining table in the hotel suite. “I actually knew he had a daughter with Winnie…”


“Julia saw me with you on some footage on the TV early last week… she came in to let me know that she knew my secret—“ I saw the alarm on Michael’s face, but I quickly calmed his fears. “It’s okay, she, in return, told me about her parents and promised not to breathe a word to anyone. She told me her Dad knew you, so I was just curious.”

 

I saw him smile, “does it help you that someone knows our connection?”


I thought about it for a moment and nodded. “Yeah, actually… It doesn’t feel like I’m keeping a giant secret, it means I can talk about you to some degree without feeling deceitful.”


“I’m sorry for that…”


I shook my head, “Don’t apologise. And can you please start eating?” he hadn’t touched his own soup.


He didn’t argue with me, but I’d noticed he’d dropped back on the eating side of things. He took a few spoonfuls if only to appease me. “She’s important to you, isn’t she, this girl?”


“Well…” I drew in a deep breath before shrugging, “she has no one… her mother seems bat shit insane…And obviously her Dad is too busy being a movie star to give a shit.”


He frowned. “William is a good guy, Malania, we don’t really know-“


“Don’t do that…” I shook my head, “don’t defend these people. Listen, my mother is a good person at the base of her heart, but it doesn’t make anything that she allowed happen to me okay. It doesn’t make her blameless.”


“I know…” he agreed, “I hope she’ll recover as well… I’m proud of you for making a friend in there.”


I managed a laugh, “Well, she’s 16, there’s only so much friendship there, but I have taken her under my wing and I think she needs a stable person in her life—well,” I corrected myself, “maybe loyal is a better word, I don’t know if I’m stable.”


“It’d be cool if I could meet her maybe one time when I come in…” he suggested.


“Sure thing…” I replied casually, not telling him that Julia would have burst at the seams to meet him. I knew it would have made him nervous. “Thanks for lunch, Michael, it’s great.”


“You’re welcome, my heart…” he reached over and grabbed my hand upon the table top. “Do you want to do anything special?”


I shook my head. I turned his hand over so as it was lying open palmed inside of mine. “Michael, when did you cut yourself?” I asked, looking directly at the cut I’d spied earlier.


He quickly retracted his arm as if he could somehow cover it. “I did-“


“You did,” I replied gently, “You and I have a pact, right?”


He looked down sheepishly.


Ljubav,” I smiled compassionately at him, he flicked his eyes up at me and smiled at the use of the foreign pet name I sometimes called him, “come on now, you can’t lie to me and if I’m pulling my weight, you have to pull yours.”


He just nodded, looking back down in to his soup again.

 

“And… all this therapy stuff got me thinking. Would you do something for me?”


He eyed me a little darkly, almost as if he knew I was going to request something he wasn’t going to like. Slowly he nodded.


“Would you please see a therapist? For you?” I asked. Before he could protest, I continued, “I’m not an idiot; you’re stressed out. Dealing with me can sometimes be stressful too, I’m sure…I’m doing every single thing I can to be the best person that I can be for not only you but for myself as well…”


“Well then, I suppose I should do the same…”


I didn’t tell him so, but I worried about the fact that he wasn’t eating very much. I wondered if he did have something of an eating disorder or if it was truly just the way he dealt with stress. “Will you do that for me?”


“Only because you asked me…” he gave me a weak smile. “I want to be the best person I can be for you too,” he added.


Noticing I’d finished eating, he reached out his hand again, “come here…” He pushed his chair back a bit and patted his knees. I wasn’t sure I was even prepared to be that close to him.


I plucked up the courage and took his hand and let him guide me to his lap. He drew me in, allowing me to straddle him a little bit more intimately than I had even expected. I knew I seemed reluctant, but he pretended not to notice and so I pretended to be comfortable.


He glanced at me momentarily and smiled. I couldn’t remember where it was that he’d taken off his fedora when we had arrived back, but I saw it sitting on the bed a little distance behind us. I rested my hands gingerly upon his shoulders. His arms slipped around my waist. “You’re the most gorgeous thing,” he said, showing me an even bigger smile with his teeth.


I couldn’t help but to be infected by it. I smiled back at it, relaxing a little bit.


“What a day, huh?” I sighed out loud.

 

“Yep,” he agreed pensively. “What a day,” he repeated with a nod of his head. “But it’s okay, I’m just glad to have you in my arms. I’ve wanted to come and see you every day this past week and I knew you were down and I wanted to come and hold you…”

 

I drew in a deep breath and got up a little bit of courage. I encircled my arms around his neck and leaned in to him. I kissed him briefly upon his lips. “So, hold me then…” I commanded in a way that sounded much more like a request.

 

I rested my head upon his shoulder where my hands had just been, nuzzling in to his warm neck. He embraced me tighter, not letting me have to ask twice. I could smell the scent of his sweet cologne and didn’t even care that some of his curly hair was tickling my ear.


“This is nice…” he remarked, “this is what I’ve dreamed of for weeks…”


I planted a soft kiss on his neck. “Me too…” and it was, its just that I didn’t see any of my fantasies with Michael materialising because of my trauma.


But.... I was trying.


Because I loved him, and he, for whatever reason – for all that I had put him through, also loved me.

Chapter 45 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Thanks for all the reviews, folks. I love to read them. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 45


At least a few things were sorted out between Malania and I. I knew I would be able to sleep a little bit easier now that she was actually speaking to me. It had been a terrible, lonely week without hearing from her.


We’d had an awful emotional morning, but the highlight was the sun that shone between us after we’d both calmed down and met in the middle of our fears.


I didn’t really like how her psychologist had amplified some of her worst fears; at a certain point, I felt as though we were being sabotaged as she constantly asked for what my feelings were regarding sex.


Obviously I wanted to have sex with my girlfriend but I didn’t care when that was and I didn’t need some woman constantly probing me on whether or not I understood that the situation was going to be a trial for Malania.


I sighed.


“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Malania asked me, looking up from the television.


I melted each time she called me her sweetheart. It seemed so natural coming from her lips. She sat beside me, cuddled against the crook of my arm. I forgot how much I loved to be loved.


“Nothing,” I smiled, “It was a happy sigh,” I told her, “I hate that I have to take you back later…”


“Me too,” she replied, “but I’m enjoying this, just relaxing with you.”


“Did I tell you,” I began, “that I’m helping Kaito look for a house? My realtor has a couple of places for him to see this week…”


“Ohhh in Santa Barbara…or?”


“Yeah, in fact, there’s a couple of places in Solvang and Chumash which is probably less than thirty minutes from me… I don’t want to influence his decision-making, but it’d be nice to have you close when you’re finished with the treatment center.”


Malania smiled at me. “I’m ready to fly the coop and be a safe distance from my parents,” she admitted, “and I feel bad about that, Michael, but… Raia and I figured out that my parents do trigger certain things in me, especially my Mama.”


I found it interesting the person she loved the most as she had once admitted to me, was also the very same person who brought her the most heartbreak and anger.


Then again, the same could have been said for Casey.


“Cool… I’ll keep that in mind when we look at places.”


“Oh, you’re actually going with him to look at properties?” Malania asked, raising an eyebrow with surprise.


I furrowed my brow, not understanding her confusion, “Yeah?” I chuckled, “is that okay? I mean, Kaito asked me to help, so…”


“No, that’s fine… I just didn’t realise you and Kaito were such good buddies…” she laughed, “if you had seen how excited he was when he got back from London to find out you and I were hanging out…”


I remembered the first time I met him, that hysterical fan look crossed his face for a short moment but he seemed to catch himself very quickly.


“Your brother is a good guy, I really like him and we’re all in this together… I am helping him out cos I know its gonna help you out and its nice to hang out with another dude every now and then.” I admitted. And it was very true; Kaito was a nice, non-judging guy. In spite of his earlier reactions, he didn’t treat me different and I loved that.


“Just how many times have you guys hung out since you met?” she asked with a little bit of amusement.


“What is this?” I teased, “The Spanish inquisition?”


She laughed, “No, Michael, I’m just curious…” I knew she was asking because she enjoyed the idea of her brother and I becoming friends.


“Maybe twice… but he called a couple times to update me through the week on how you were going since you wouldn’t take my calls.”


She frowned, a flicker of guilt filled her face.


“That’s okay,” I said quickly, “I know you needed your space, that was a heavy session with Raia.”


She turned back to the TV silently, darkness enshrouding her positive mood that replaced the emotions from earlier.


“Hey…” I insisted. She shook her head as if she didn’t want to face me. I felt a weird churning in my stomach, realising that she was going to get emotional again. “Malania, look at me…”


She reluctantly turned to face me. She didn’t show signs of tears or any great deal of upset, but I knew she was feeling a little burn. I took her cheeks in my hands and smiled at her.


“Its okay…” I told her. I leaned in and kissed her lips lingeringly, “I mean it… you needed space and we needed that to happen so that we could have this…” I told her, referring to both of our meltdowns earlier.


She gave me a brief smile, looking down and avoiding my eyes.


“You know, I’m glad we had this whole thing this morning,” I told her, “it gave me the opportunity to air my feelings for you and maybe I wouldn’t have been able to be so forthright about that, had you not been going through everything in your head.”


“I know…” she murmured.


“I love you, I know you feel like sometimes that’s not enough, but I am going to show you that it is. It might take awhile, but we’ll get to a place together where we are both clear-minded, in charge of our emotions and able to properly function in stressful situations.” I told her.


She didn’t answer but she kissed me back with that same softness I’d loaned to her. I knew that was her way of telling me that she either agreed or she hoped that I was right.


“I love you…” she added. She shifted closer and encircled her arms around my chest and snuggled in warmly again.


**


The call came at around 5:30pm. We were just about to leave to take Malania back to the treatment centre. It was Kaito; he sounded shaken and concerned. “Mike, we’ve had some bad news…” he began.


“Why, what’s happened?” I asked. I immediately expected something to be wrong with Malania but I glanced at her smiling at me, safe and sound.


“It’s Samuel…” he murmured, “I called the treatment facility and the nurse said Malania is with you, she’s okay, right?”


“Yes, she’s with me… we have been hanging out,” I replied. I felt like I was about to be told something that I didn’t want to be told. “What’s up?”


I tried to sound up beat because I didn’t want Malania to get scared. I wondered if we should have been.


“Something bad, but don’t worry, she’s not in any trouble. Can you take her back to the treatment centre?”


“Yeah, we’re on our way back actually… but what is it?” his voice was wavering as if something awful had happened.


“Don’t tell her this,” he began, “because they want professionals to be with her when she gets the news, but our broth-“ he paused like he couldn’t even bring himself to use that expression, “Samuel’s body was found this morning by police…”


I felt winded. I wished I didn’t ask because now I had to keep it from her. I tried not to change my expression. “Okay,” I replied evenly. “Cool, well we’re headed back now.”


“I’ll meet you guys there.”


We said our polite goodbyes. I wondered how Malania would have felt about it all. My heart beat a little faster, feeling concerned about how she would react given that she had vowed only a week or so earlier to pursue it further with the police after her psychologist explained the steps in which she would need to follow to do so.


“I am allowed to have one day release per week…” Malania informed me on our way back. I tried not to worry about the news she was about to receive and tried to savour her good mood instead. “Do you think we can hang out on those days?”


I smiled at her and nodded, “All you gotta do is phone me and I’ll be like, ‘sure baby, I’m on my way to get you’,” I grinned.


She grinned back at me. “I hated pet names previous to hearing you say them to me,” she admitted, “but honestly, I love it when you call me your heart and your baby…”


I slipped my hand in to hers, “when I tell you that you’re ‘mine’, I mean it without all that creepy, possessiveness attached,” I told her, flashing her a smile.


“And that’s totally okay with me…” she replied with a shrug as if it was all too cool for her. She laughed, dropping it and nudging me with her shoulder. “Thanks for today, I agree that we needed this.”


“You’re welcome, my heart.”


**


Malania knew something was up when Kaito and their father were present when we arrived back. The nurse on duty shuttled us off down the hall in to a private room. She looked at me grimly.


“Its family only,” the chief nurse told me gently. I almost bowed out, feeling nervous about getting seen despite the hood of my sweater being pulled over my head and wearing a pair of fake glasses.


“Michael is family,” Kaito replied firmly. The nurse didn’t bother arguing.


“What’s going on?” Malania asked noticing her Dad’s shell-shocked behaviour. He walked ahead a little zoned out. Kaito and I exchanged worried glances that she immediately picked up on.


“What is going on!?” she demanded to know a little more angrily.


“Sweetheart, let’s just go and find out…” I told her, putting an arm around her.


She glared at me, “You know, don’t you? This is what that phone call was about, Michael, what’s going on?” she had been wondering when I had put the phone down earlier who it was, but I had brushed her questions aside and told her Kaito was just calling to see what I was up to.


“Just…” I began, feeling awful for deceiving her, “we have to wait, I’m sorry…” I apologised.


She flinched away from my touch. “I asked him not to say anything,” Kaito told her. We filed in to a room. Raia was already there.


“Why do I feel like you’re all going to tell me that I’m being kicked out on my ass or something?” she asked with a short burst of uncomfortable chuckles.


Raia ignored her joke and asked her to take a seat and motioned to her father to do so next to her. It wasn’t her usual consulting room. It was a stark, medical style room with a couple of spare chairs and a clear desk with a box of tissues. More of an empty space than someone’s office, I thought as I looked around.


“Hi Malania,” she smiled at her.


Malania turned to her father, “Papa, are you alright? Is Mama alright?” she seemed momentarily panic-stricken.


“Yes,” he nodded but didn’t look her in the eye. I couldn’t tell if he was angry with her or if he was just grief-stricken. “Mama is fine, I am fine,” he spoke evenly and without emotion.


Raia asked me to take a seat next to Malania. She obviously figured out something was wrong. She slipped her hand in to mine. Kaito stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.


“What’s going on?” she asked, staring at her psychologist for answers.


“Kaito, I believe you thought it might be best coming from you, would you like to tell Malania why we’re all here?”


Kaito came to the front of the desk and sat on the edge of it before her. I was sure she knew something awful was coming. She avoided his eyes and stared at her hands.


“Mal,” he began, a name he had become quite accustomed to using on her, “the police came early this morning to let us know that… Samuel was found on the side of the freeway…” he let his voice trail off. It broke a little, I was wondering if he was sad for the loss of his brother or because he was scared that Malania wouldn’t deal very well with it.


“What?” she asked, looking up, narrowing her eyes at him, “re you serious?”


Kaito nodded. Her sombre and sad state seemed to immediately wash away.


“So is he dead?” she asked bluntly with a strange, half-smile on her face.


Kaito nodded grimly once again.


She gave her head a little shake as if she were confused and was trying to make sense of it. Finally, she erupted in to a burst of laughter that made the room feel all the more tense.


“I’m sorry, so why are we all huddled in this room?” she asked jumping up, animatedly, dropping her smile and her laugh. “Am I supposed to care?” she wondered out loud. “Should I be expected to give a fuck?”


George had stayed silent. He buried his face in his hands.


“Did someone kill him or did he kill himself?” she asked. She showed such little regard over the fact that her brother was no longer alive – or that her father was clearly struggling with the news.


“Not sure, looks like suicide,” Kaito responded, “but we’ve only spoken to the police briefly, we’ll be going to see them tonight.”


“I hope someone killed him,” she said matter-of-factly in a voice that was way too casual for my liking. “Hope they tortured him until he felt it in the depth of his fucking soul,” she spat the words out, finally getting a little angry.


I was relieved that she was finally showing some emotion instead of the cold and casual curiosity.


George stood up. He glared at his daughter. “Malania,” he began quietly, “I’ve just lost my son,” he told her looking angry, though still calm and shell-shocked. “I know you don’t care and I know he was guilty of doing some awful things to you and I have taken your side entirely, but I cannot change my sadness.”


“Oh, no Daddy, you say that with respect!” she mocked him in the most facetious tone that she could have mustered up. “You lost your sweet, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-fucking-mouth rapist, that’s all you lost…”


“Malania, you will regret speaking to me like that,” he replied, “and I hope you’l have an apology for me later.” He didn’t say anything else. He simply got up and left the room. I actually felt pain within my heart for her father. It wasn’t his fault that Samuel was guilty of all of those things.


I loved Malania through and through and I knew she was reacting, but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Losing a child was probably the worst pain imaginable regardless of the circumstances.


Malania seemed to momentarily place herself back in a box as if the words were setting in. As quickly as they settled though, she turned back to me.


“Well, that’s one burden off of my shoulders,” she said almost happily. I was concerned by her response to it all. Her emotions ranged from curiousity, calm, livid, happy and giggly.  


“Let me cut in here… if I can ask,” Raia started, waiting for Kaito to take a seat, he didn’t say much, I think he was just as shocked as I felt by Malania’s reaction. I think we had both expected her to fall apart.


“Kaito, how do you feel about the news?”


He seemed surprised that she wanted to know. He gave a shrug. I knew there had to have been a part of him that cared. Even Malania, despite her immediate reaction, it had to have hurt.


“I don’t know,” he responded with a shrug. He glanced over at Malania and I and shook his head as if to confirm his response.  


“Again, I’d like to reiterate that this room is a safe space, we’re allowed to have feelings even if they’re not the ones we necessarily want or have expected to have.”


Raia looked to me, “what about you, Michael? How do you feel?”


I looked at Malania who seemed to be taking no notice of the conversations. Instead, she was looking around the room distractedly as though she couldn’t wait for the conversation to be over so she could head back to her room.


“I feel like I want to be here for Malania, regardless of her reaction or feelings about what happened and that I’d like to be here for Kaito too. Personally, I’ve never met Samuel, I didn’t care to meet him and I feel relieved that at least I know that I don’t need to be concerned about Malania being protected from him.”


“Before you start with this touch-y feel-y shit,” Malania began before Raia even asked, “I want to say that I’m glad for this news. I know I’m probably supposed to be sad or feel short-changed or something, but at least I don’t have to lay in bed and fantasise about how I would kill him if he ever tried to hurt me again, someone else has hopefully done that for me and I feel great about that!” Her arms were folded across her chest petulantly.


“I think I feel relieved, too.” Kaito added, glancing at me and giving me a weak smile.


“Why, relieved?” Raia asked him, ignoring Malania’s rant for the moment.


“Because my brother won’t cause this awful tension between everyone, he won’t be constantly in the backs of our minds, he won’t be the source of my parent’s fights, he won’t stop us from seeing our nieces and nephews, we can rest and heal from his bullshit.”


“Do either of you feel any element of sadness?” Raia asked pointedly.


Malania said no immediately but I felt her squeeze my hand, probably without realising it and I felt as though it betrayed her vocal, knee-jerk reaction to the question.


“Maybe I’m sad for my parents because of how hard they tried and how much they really wanted to believe in him.”


“And see, that just makes me angry.” Malania told him, “they wanted to believe in him more than they wanted to see that he was destroying their daughter and alienating their son.”


Kaito didn’t say anything to that.


“Malania, I’m going to check in with you again in the morning when you’ve had the chance to think about all of this. If you need some help communicating with your parents during this time, we can arrange for a family therapy session – in fact, I would encourage it,” she told us all.


“I’ll be fine.” Malania responded.


“I’ll leave you all to chat for a short while before dinner,” she got up and gave us a wave.


I didn’t stay for much longer. Malania tried to convince me that she was truly okay with it all. I felt like it was a load of shit though, I knew she had to be something if even angry.


I made my way back to the car, Kaito was going to stop by my hotel after he left Malania. I felt if nothing else, he needed someone to chat to. I was sure that even he felt a little bit sad.


**


“Boss,” Carsen greeted me as I got back in to the parked SUV.


“Yeah?” I got myself comfortable in the passenger seat as I had been doing on the occasions that I travelled without a third person.


Carsen was picked up a newspaper that he’d been reading while waiting for me. “Do you know someone called Rosa Fernandez?”


I thought for a moment. The name rang a bell. “Maybe, why?” I asked. The second that I asked the question, I wondered if perhaps there was a new allegation. Greg had warned me that it could happen. When there was the potential for money to be thrown around, all kinds of grifters might come from the woodwork.


“There’s a lady who spoke exclusively to the L.A Times about you, she says she was your make up artist,” he informed me.


Of course, Rosa. I knew her for around the same amount of time as I knew Diane, but I had no idea what her last name was, perhaps that didn’t say a great deal about me, but I knew her and I liked her and I remembered the last time I spoke to her. “Oh,” I said sinkingly, “did she say something bad?”


“No,” Carsen smiled, “read it…”


I gingerly picked up the newspaper as Carsen started the ignition and headed out of the park.


I let my eyes fall over the blocks of text before I began to read. There was a photo of Rosa and I together in my trailer before a concert. I looked very heavily made up.


The photo winded me momentarily as a jarring reminder of who I was before this shit began. I didn’t know that happy, confident man anymore. He seemed excited and content. It was a bit of a shock to see myself and realise the jaw-dropping change in both my appearance and manner.


I brushed the feelings aside, not wanting to get too worked up in front of my bodyguard.


Rosa Fernandez worked exclusively as Jackson’s make-up artist for the entire duration of the Bad World Tour after it was disband in Mexico City back in June of this year.


‘Working for Mr. Jackson was a dream come true for me,’ Fernandez says.


He was very kind, charming, humble and very funny. We used to talk about normal things like dating and our friends and families.’


The family accusing Jackson of molestation is known well to Rosa who says she met the mother and daughter on numerous occasions and isn’t particularly surprised by them.


‘Mr Jackson was the sort of man who gives and gives and gives; he doesn’t know when he is being taken advantage of. [Jane Doe] was well aware of his feelings for her and that he was very anxious to have his own family. He treated that child like she was his own and loved her mother unconditionally. He told me that he planned to marry her and that she was the one.’


Fernandez says that she feels like Jackson is the victim of simply being too generous, that he is the real victim in this trial.


‘Mr. Jackson didn’t do this. He simply doesn’t have it in his heart to be guilty of something like this. The tour is over and I’ll probably never see him again, but I will support him 100% and he will always have a friend in me,’ she says.


Jackson is set to face court on Sept 12.”


I found myself smiling. It was a relief. “She’s a nice lady. That was nice of her to reach out like that, most people have said nothing.”


“I agree,” Carsen nodded, “I can speak out too, boss, but I wouldn’t want to speak out of turn or make you feel like I am going behind your back to the media.”


I shook my head, “I’d prefer that we give the media nothing, but if they ask you can say whatever you need…”


“I’d tell them you ain’t guilty, I’d not be working for you if I thought you were.”


I smiled, “Thanks Carsen.”


**


Inside the hotel, the phone rang. I half expected it to be Kaito or Malania. It was all happening today, I thought.


I picked up the phone from the cradle and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?”


“Michael, its Greg here, how are you?”


“Good thanks Greg, what’s happening?” I asked taking a seat on the couch beside the table where the phone was connected.


“Michael, I finally have the full report of Casey’s psychologist visit and she’s very much accusing you. However, it was the-“


The rest of his words became a blur. I felt sick. It had to have been some kind of mistake. I couldn’t imagine Casey ever telling anyone I did anything like that.


“Michael, are you listening?” Greg asked. I snapped back to attention but I found it hard to concentrate.


“Why would she say that?” I murmured.


“Listen, I just said that it was the psychologist’s findings that Casey has been coached – or it seems that way. There’s something about this whole case that is off, Michael.”


I felt a little relieved, but still, who was brainwashing this kid against me? It was so illogical and unfair, but a little part of me felt betrayed by her as well as Diane. “Can I read the report?” I asked.


“Sure, I was hoping we could get together this week and touch base—where are you at the moment?” he asked.


“Actually I’m close to Fountain Valley at the moment with Malania. I’ll be staying here for a few more weeks, but I can come and meet you at Hidden Hills or Los Olivos if it’s necessary.”


“We might make it for Hidden Hills, how about Thursday?” he asked.


We agreed on a time and that was about all.


He left me feeling a little upset with the accusations. I never thought the words would come from Casey’s mouth, and how despicable it was to learn that someone had made her say them.


I was barely able to think too much about what had happened with Malania and her family as it was immediately overshadowed by Greg’s call.


In all honesty, it had been awhile since I’d let the case bother me too much. I had put up a wall and blocked it out completely. I knew if I allowed it any residence in my brain, I’d probably cave in and try to find some more uppers or downers.


I tried to take my mind off it and tidied up the hotel room a little. Malania had commented on my mess which made me realise she didn’t care much for it. I wanted to make sure it was cleaner next time she visited me.


Interrupting my lazy cleaning was a knock at the door.


“Fuck!” I cursed under my breath. I just wanted a minute to myself.


“Who is it?” I called out. I knew better than to open the door without question. It was a lesson I’d learned while on tour. Fans managed to get by security all the time. I smiled as I remembered Malania doing just that on more than one occasion.


“It’s Kaito, Carsen let me up.”


I opened the door and let him in. “Hi man, come on in…”


He seemed a little like I felt. Downcast, defeated, agitated. “Thanks…”


He came inside and took a seat at the small dining table after putting his car keys down. “Malania isn’t as okay with this as she says,” he announced.


“I know that,” I replied evenly, “but I’m sure it’ll take a few days to sink in. How about you, how are you?”


I put down the books that I had in my hands and sat down, giving him my undivided attention.


He rested his head in his hands for a moment and let out a giant expulsion of air. “You know… when we were younger Sammy and I used to play together and we were real close, you know?”


I listened and nodded. “Then he hit puberty and I don’t know what happened, he just changed and it seemed like it was overnight. He would scare off my girlfriends by threatening them or doing some seriously creepy shit – and he just had a propensity to violence, people were actually scared to be around me because of what he might do…”


“You know,” I began, “Kaito, it’s okay to not feel the same level of grief over this as your parents.”


“I’m angry,” he said finally. “I’m angry for the reasons why Mal should be, he fuckin’ brutalised my little sister and she doesn’t get any retribution for it. She doesn’t get to ever look him in the eye or have her day in court and feel justice.”


“I know…” my voice trailed off.


“My Mom loved that little asshole,” he admitted, “and none of us have ever been able to compete with that. Even though Malania is Mama’s favourite and that’s because she’s never run away in the other direction. She always comes home. Anica and I, we made our escape.”


“I don’t get it,” I replied. I watched the fairly decent sized guy in front of me looking an inch away from coming undone. “Why do they have such a weak spot for someone who’s never been particularly endearing?”


“When we were young, Sammy was a really good kid. He was sweet and always followed me around and wanted to become a pilot like our Dad. He had all these grand hopes and dreams and something just snapped. I think they’ve been spending all of their years trying to get him back… but Samuel was gone a long, long time ago.”


I sighed. “How’s your Mom doing?”


“Not well. I obviously haven’t said anything to Malania, but Mama is playing a little bit of a blame game.”


My stomach churned. How dare she? I thought. I said nothing.


“I’m sorry this has happened, Kaito, honestly… I am sure regardless of your anger, you’re upset that you lost a sibling, so…”


“Thanks, Mike…” he sucked in a deep breath, “how are you anyway, dude? I see you obviously fixed things with my sister.”


I smiled briefly and nodded. “I’m okay, thanks.”


“Can I ask, how’s the case going? You’ve not spoken about that at all…”


There was a part of me that wanted to share everything that I’d heard so as I could unload and feel a little lighter. However, the better part of me resisted because I was afraid that if he knew that Casey had actually made the accusation straight from her own mouth, he might believe it too.


“It’s all still up in the air,” I lied, “I’d prefer to not think about it.”


He nodded with understanding. “I feel you…” he fell silent and trailed off with his own thoughts.


As if he had a burst of resolve, he stood up, “Fuck this, man, you wanna go get some food? You can’t stay in doors all day every day like some kind of shut-in, let’s go hang out.”



I remembered how good it felt to get out and about even if I didn’t particularly like the public. “Okay,” I agreed, “lets go out…”

Chapter 46 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

We're up to chapt 46 yay! enjoy and thank you all for your lovely comments. :) 

In the quiet darkness I heard footsteps, heavy ones. They made me freeze, bathing me in terror and causing my body to involuntarily shudder. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and began to pray. Wordlessly I began to recite all of the prayers my mother taught me for protection.


I prayed a Hail Mary. I prayed to St. Michael the Archangel, I asked for God to be my defence against the wickedness and the snares of the devil. And I prayed for forgiveness as the tears silently rolled down my cheeks and the wind was knocked out of my chest from the weight of another body upon me.


The tormenting footsteps had stopped at the foot of my bed; sometimes the anticipation was the worst part. Sometimes I could transport myself; sometimes it wasn’t happening, sometimes I was elsewhere.


Even sometimes the only way I knew that it had happened was the discomfort I felt the next day.


This time was different. I cried uncontrollably as he released his anger into my ear. A hand curled around my throat, a thumb pressed against my airway, blocking it. I tried to stay calm despite my body writhing around beneath him and launching itself into survival mode. I tried to fight him, I tried to kick him, bite him; I tried anything to end it.


He was too strong; usually the reason why I just transported myself. It was easier that way; I didn’t get hurt.


He began to aggressively taunt me as I cried, making me just want to give up the fight. I lay lifeless beneath him, my eyes popping open involuntarily as I radically lost air.


 


I came face to face with him and he didn’t like it. He swore at me, he struck me with a closed fist, I continued to choke and splutter for air unt-


Taking in a large, deep, gasp, I woke up from my nightmare with a nurse by my side, taking me by surprise and making me jump a country mile out of bed. I backed myself in to a corner.


“Malania, it’s okay,” said Clair, my favourite nurse in a soft, soothing voice. “It was just a dream, you’re awake, and you’re okay.”


I couldn’t speak. My heart was racing and I was still gasping for air, feeling as though I had been choked. I hugged myself in the dimly lit room and realized I was saturated with perspiration, my damp hair plastered to my neck.


I slid down the wall slowly, crumpling into sobs. I tucked my knees beneath me and buried my face in my arms.


“It’s okay,” Clair said again, slowly coming to my side. She took a seat beside me, crossing her legs. She didn’t touch me, she didn’t say anything for the moment, just allowed me to get used to her being close to me.


“It was just a nightmare.”


“I know…” I murmured tearfully.


I hated that I was unable to control what was happening or the way that I was feeling; in fact, maybe it just came down to that very point.


I wasn’t in control anymore.


“Do you want to tell me about it? Sometimes that can help?” she suggested kindly. Clair was always my favourite nurse. I was sure that we weren’t that different in age. We chatted a lot and often I didn’t feel like she was even a caregiver, but rather a friend who was looking out for me.


However, in this instance, I definitely felt the difference in our roles.


I wiped my wet face and drew in a deep breath. I was still shaking uncontrollably. It had always been this way; after I got over the shock of my dream, my body went in to its own version of shock; leaving me shaking, shivering and feeling like I couldn’t get warm.


Clair got up and grabbed a blanket from my cupboard and draped it over my shoulders. She got me some tissues and resumed her seat beside me. I liked that she didn’t try to remove me from where I had found comfort. She didn’t tell me to get up off the floor; she just joined me in what felt like a safe spot.


“I heard you had a pretty big day…” she prompted me in a gentle tone.


I wiped my nose with tissue and simply nodded with agreement.


“Did you have a nice time with Michael, at least?” she asked in a low voice. I couldn’t help but snap my neck to look at her, shocked that she knew.


“How do you know about Michael?” I asked. I felt relief as well as panic. I stared into her piercing blue eyes.


She smiled warmly at me as if reassuring me that she could be trusted. “I saw you on some footage with him over the weekend,” she explained, “I started to piece it all together…”


“Please don’t tell anyone,” I said, letting go of the panic. I looked back at the crumpled tissue in my hand.


“Of course not. But I want you to know that you can be honest with me and talk to me if you need to.  If there’s anything that I feel I can’t discuss with you, I’ll let you know that it might be better for a conversation between you and Raia.”


I felt grateful that she knew. “Michael and I have had a rough week…” I murmured, “We’re okay now, I think…” I admitted.


“Is that what your dream was about?” she asked.


I shook my head. “They found my brother today…” I murmured, “I dreamed about him.”


Clair nodded, waiting for me to say more, but I couldn’t. “Do you think your brain is trying to process your sadness over it?”


I laughed bitterly. “No, nope…” I shook my head. I lifted my head and shrugged my shoulders; “I’m not feeling sad over it, Clair, not one bit.”


“Oh…” I knew she was surprised by my admission. I spared her the discomfort of telling her exactly why it was that I wasn’t feeling the grief that I saw covering my father’s very being.


I pulled the blanket around me tightly. “I should go back to bed,” I told her, slowly easing up from the floor.


Clair didn’t say anything. She got up too. “Do you want me to sit with you until you go to sleep?” she asked kindly.


“I think I’ll be okay,” I replied. I just wanted to be in bed and I wanted to be alone and I wanted to read Jonathan Livingstone Seagull again, because I was starting to lose focus on what was important.


Once Clair left me to it, I changed out of my cold, sweaty pajamas that I had been wearing and into a new, fresh pair. I grabbed the book from my bedside table and began to read it again.


It was morning, and the sun sparkled gold across the ripples of a gentle sea…” I began to read.


The book brought me back to a spot of comfort that allowed me to feel connected to Michael.


**


“Oh, God…” I muttered under my breath.


“I’m sorry,” he apologised meaningfully. I glanced at the newspaper again and felt my stomach shift. “You have enough shit going on, you don’t need to worry about this…”


I took my face in my hands and rubbed my eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted. Plausible, considering I wasn’t able to go back to sleep.


“Is Kaito…”


“Yeah, he’s fine, I think he was just dulling his pain,” Michael cut me off, “and the wrong person messed with him.”


The paper was grainy and blurry but it had been photographed right in the moment where Kaito had launched into a violent attack. The headline read, Jackson’s Bad Company. They had accused my brother of being violent, drunk and full of threats. Of course, that was only one part of the story.


“So…” I frowned, feeling confused, “what actually happened?”


“Your brother came around last night after he left here, he wanted to blow off some steam so we went to Koi for dinner and then he wanted to go to a bar, so Carsen and another bodyguard, Chris, took us…” Michael explained.


I rolled my eyes. “Did you think that that was a good idea?”


“No, but he was really adamant and to be honest, sweetheart, I didn’t want him to just leave and start drinking alone or something stupid…”


As irate as I felt, I knew it wasn’t Michael’s fault, he was trying to protect my brother and he felt guilty for what happened. “Okay…”


“When Kaito was getting a bit too crazy, I forced him to call it a night and when we walked out the paparazzi were everywhere, one of the guys was trying to pull at my strings, he called me a child molester,” Michael continued as though none of it bothered him, but I could tell that it did.


Quite frankly, the idea of anyone actually calling him that made my blood boil.


“Did Kaito react to that?”


Michael nodded. “I told him to ignore it, but he just went crazy… he grabbed the guy and punched him and grabbed his stupid camera and had to be pulled off by Carsen. The press went crazy and the police turned up and he was arrested.


“He’s home now, right?” I asked, worried for my brother.


“Well yeah, I posted his bail right away and Chris had a word to the photographer who he attacked and the assault charge was dropped immediately…”


“Where’s Kaito now?”


“He’s at my hotel sleeping off his hangover.”


“Thanks for taking care of him…” I told him glumly. “Guess he was more upset about Samuel than he let on…”


“I’m sorry,” Michael apologised to me again.


“It’s okay…” I sucked in a deep breath and tossed the paper aside. “I’m sorry that jerk called you a child molester. To be fair, drunk or not, I would have attacked him as well.”


He just shook his head, not wanting to let it bother him like I’m sure it did the first time. “Don’t worry about it.”


“Have you spoken to your Dad or Mom?” Michael asked me, changing the subject.


“Nope,” I replied. “I don’t think I’ll be able to see them until they get over it,” I told him coldly, which was exactly how I felt.


“That could be a long, long time,” Michael replied with a challenging tone, as if he were trying to extricate some emotions from me.


I shrugged, “I guess it’ll be a long time until I see them.”


He seemed in a bad mood, as though he was frustrated with me. I sighed. “Michael, I know you don’t understand, but I can’t help the way I feel, just as how I’d hope that they can’t help how they feel.”


“I know…” he trailed off. “Kaito is upset too, regardless of what he says, he is hurting and I can see that… so maybe you need to just try and see things from a different perspective. You have a very, very pure heart, Malania, I know you…”


I recoiled in offense. “Are you kidding me, Michael?” I asked, laughing in a bit of shock. “You want me to support my parents or my brother through my rapist’s death?”


He avoided my eyes, realising obviously what he was asking of me. I was livid.


I found it hard to breathe. “I think you should go…”


“Malania—“ he started, “that’s not really what I meant.”


I stood up, getting up off my bed with my back to him for a moment. I tried to summon up the courage so as not to fall apart in front of him. I raked a hand through my hair as I turned back to him. “You know, I don’t really feel like being understanding,” I told him. His darkened eyes just watched me move around erratically, wanting to pull my hair out with anger.


“Do you know that ever since I began to talk to Raia about my abuse, I haven’t slept a single fucking night? That I wake up a couple times a night from nightmares and night terrors?”


“I’m sor-“


“Michael, you weren’t there. Mom and Dad? They weren’t there. Kaito ran away, I was raped during the most formidable part of my life and I lived it alone. No one gave a fuck about me, and it’s starting to feel like I could add you to that shit-list.”


“Stop it!” he raised his voice at me.


“Stop what?” I asked with an accusatory tone, “stop what? Telling the fucking truth?” I took a deep breath and realised that I was crying, “What is it with you people? Everyone keeps talking about how feelings aren’t wrong, how every feeling is valid…” I wiped my eyes. “Everyone’s feelings are valid… unless they’re mine.”


He clamoured for something to say, he got up and tried to physically console me, but I didn’t need consoling. I just wanted to be left alone.


“Just go…” I told him, lowering my voice, “Just leave me alone…”


He stood before me, unsure of whether or not I wanted him to fight me on it. “I can’t say anything right, right now, can I?”


I said nothing as we stood a couple of inches apart from one another. I didn’t want us to end our visit on bad terms, but I couldn’t sit and let myself be subject to his misunderstanding.


“I just need to think…”


He nodded slowly as if letting it sink in. He reached up and took my cheeks in his palms. He kissed my forehead. “I love you, don’t lock yourself away from me for too long.”


I let my eyes fall shut as he hugged me. I couldn’t bring myself to embrace him. “Okay,” I whispered.


**


When Michael left, I went out to the reception. Julia came to my side; she had all but given me some much-needed space, but I could tell that she was bursting at the seams to hang out.


“Hey, hey, are you feeling okay?” she wondered. I hadn’t seen her since when I’d left the previous day with Michael.


“Not really,” I replied, “but it’s okay-“ I stopped for a moment and waited for the chief nurse’s attention. She hung up the phone and looked at me expectantly.


I smiled even though I didn’t feel like it. “I was just wondering if you could contact Raia for me, I think I’d like to see her as soon as she’s free.”


“Sure, Malania, I’ll put a call in and let you know what she has available,” the nurse smiled kindly at me. I knew that they appreciated when we sought out our own therapy; apparently they took it as a sign that we were trying to make progress.


“Are you okay?” I asked, turning back to Julia as we were departing the nurses’ station.


“Yeah, I’m just bored. Peyton is being cruel again…” she muttered.


“Tell her to fuck off,” I told her bluntly, “Peyton is a little bully. Don’t let her do it.”


Interrupting me was a familiar voice that made my stomach turn. “Malania, wait a sec…” I turned to see my sister standing a little ways behind us. She had obviously just been signed in as I was walking away from my request.


“Great,” I murmured. Julia picked up on it.


“You are so lucky,” Julia said to me as I plastered on a fake smile, “you get so many visitors.”


“You’re welcome to them,” I said under my breath as my sister embraced me in a hug.


“I’ll catch you later,” she waved and went off to find something to do, probably avoiding that little bitch who seemed to be on a warpath every second to third day.


“Hi Anica,” I greeted her. It had been over a week since I’d seen her. She had only been in twice to visit me.


“Hi,” she shoved a newspaper at me as we made our way to our room. “What the hell is this?”


I drew in a deep breath. “Exactly what it says…” I shot back. “Kaito got a bit messy and someone pissed him off, I guess.”


She closed my door before she let the fake, chirpy expression fall from her face. “Since when did he and Michael become best friends?” she asked.


I almost rolled my eyes at her. “I don’t know… how should I know, Anica, I am locked up in here? I see Michael for about an hour a day or a friggin’ phone call, I can’t keep tabs on him 24/7 and I don’t monitor who he hangs out with.”


“I can’t allow you to move in with Kaito after this stunt, how do I know you’re not going to piss him off and cause him to lose his temper and start beating you?”


I actually laughed. “Firstly,” I began, “Kaito was provoked, not that it makes it okay, but I’m pretty sure if what was said to him was said to me, I would have lunged too…” I told her, “And secondly, you don’t get to make my decisions for me.”


She gave me a hard blink before sinking down in the visitor’s chair. “Malania, they did tell you about Samuel, right?”


I wondered if my sister were crazy. It was as though she was trying to adopt a new approach to wear me down. “Of course they did.” I waited for her to start lamenting over him, but she didn’t.


“And how do you feel about it?”


I shrugged. “How do you think I’m supposed to feel about my rapist leaving the world? Sad? Nope, not me.”


“I feel sad for Mom and Dad, but for me… I guess I’m like you,” she started.


I just shrugged again, trying to not be annoyed by her sympathy for my parents.


“Can I ask you something?” she began delicately. I knew I wasn’t going to like it.


I just nodded. I was curious to see what fuckery she was trying to cause. I never knew my sister to be calculating or manipulative, but I was getting a weird vibe from her. There seemed to be some weirdness between her and Kaito, I couldn’t figure it out.


“Please don’t get defensive, because I am only looking out for you, okay?”


I nodded again.


“Michael is a nice man, granted, I like him, but… have you considered that befriending you could be a bit of a stunt?” she asked. “I don’t mean to be hurtful, but… for instance, he hasn’t called you his girlfriend, he hasn’t told you he loves you, you guys haven’t even had sex-“


I began to laugh. I began to laugh because my sister was an idiot and all the hopes and dreams that I’d had of us becoming close and having the relationship we’d had as children just went flying out the window. She didn’t understand, she didn’t believe Michael was innocent, she believed he was using me.


“Michael isn’t using me,” I said simply. “You haven’t given him a chance.”


“I just find him odd,” she admitted, not liking my sudden burst of laughter. “He does all the right things on the surface – visiting, befriending our brother, paying your bills-“


“Wait a minute, what?” I asked, cutting her off, “what do you mean paying your bills?”


I saw a look of panic cross her face. “I just mean that-“


“No,” I stopped her, “you said he’s paying my bills, what the hell is he paying?”


“Mom and Dad couldn’t afford this treatment,” she told me, “they asked Kaito and I to help foot the bill—and no offense Malania, but I have my family to look out for, so I said no. Michael walked in on the argument and apparently insisted on taking care of it.”


“Was it a big bill?” I asked gingerly, hoping it was a matter of a few hundred that I could pay him back when I was on my feet.


Anica was reluctant to tell me the amount.


“Don’t walk in here, question my judgement on my fucking boyfriend, put your foot in your damn mouth, and expect me to not want answers.”


“He’s not your boy-“ she stopped herself before I did, “it was a couple hundred thousand…”


“What the fuck….” tears sprang to my eyes, “why did you push Mama and Papa to put me here when you would have known the cost and then refuse to help them?”


She seemed mad that I would expect her help. “Malania, I gave them this option of treatment, I didn’t make them do anything, they were aware of the cost of this place; it’s not my fault they didn’t budget.”


I felt incredibly hurt and betrayed by her.


“For the record,” I started, “Michael does call me his girlfriend, Michael has told me he loves me, in fact, all the time and the only reason why we haven’t had sex is because I’m living with a fucking trauma and you couldn’t give a shit. At least Kaito and Michael are here with me everyday. You can’t fake that…”


I paused, watching her grow angry, it was a familiar look. She was always angry whenever she’d see me.


“But you know what you can fake? What you do. This concern, the will to look like you’re doing and saying all the right things and doing it all without a single bit of heart. I’m glad you said ‘no’ to Mom and Dad, at least I won’t ever have you on my shoulder telling me what I owe you.”


Before Anica had a chance to respond, a nurse knocked and let herself in. She smiled at us both. “Malania, sorry to interrupt, but Raia has a spot in about 10 minutes, are you ready to see her now?”


I nodded. “Yes, therapy is very important when you’re dealing with what I am,” I told her as if butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth, as if it wasn’t a direct jab at my asshole sister.


I literally could not win with my family.


I turned back to her while the nurse waited, “Don’t worry about coming back or waiting around.”


She said nothing. My sister was so conscious of her image that she didn’t dare fight back in front of someone. I grabbed my therapy notebook and followed the nurse quietly to see Raia.


**


Once I sat down, my tears began to flow freely and I hadn’t even said a single word yet.


Raia just gave me a reassuring smile and slid a box of tissues over toward me. I was grateful.


“I’m glad you came to see me, Malania.  If you’d like, I can give you a moment to compose yourself.”


I just nodded and took a few deep breaths. “I just…” I sputtered on my words, “I’m just starting to…” another big gulp of air, “to feel like I’m the bad guy…”


I wiped my eyes with the tissue and crumpled it in my hand.


“What’s happened in the past 24 hours that’s made you feel that way, do you think?”


I looked at the tissue in my hands and began to tear at the corners of it. I shrugged. “Michael told me that I should be more sensitive, that I should accept my parent’s sadness over Samuel.”


“And you don’t feel like you should?” she asked.


I shook my head. “You said yesterday, everyone’s feelings are valid, there is no right or wrong—except its anger, and in that case I’m not allowed to be angry, when I’m angry people get mad at me for my feelings.”


“So, it’s the reactions of other people that you are having trouble dealing with?” she wanted to clarify.


I looked up from the tissue at my psychologist. Her dark hair was pulled back in to a slick ponytail. She was wearing business attire that afternoon. A black business suit that made her look as though she belonged on Wall Street and not some casual office in the middle of some rich centre for brat kids and young adults of the rich, and sometimes, famous.


“I guess…”


“You know, Malania, in the same essence that you can’t control your feelings, you’ll have to understand or at least accept that your parents or your brother and Michael won’t be able to control theirs,” she pointed out. “If you expect them to be understanding of your feelings, you might want to think about how you could extend them the same courtesy.”


“I just can’t fathom how they can be upset knowing what their son did to me.”


“The level of knowledge that they have of what went on is very limited, Malania; not to defend them, but do keep that in mind.”


“I keep having nightmares…” I admitted, “I had another one last night… they’re getting worse.”


“Did you want to talk about them?” she asked.


I shrugged. “It’s not really a dream actually, it’s more of a re-enactment of some of the things he used to do to me.” I shook my head, “I just wake up from it, shake out of it and go back to bed with a book and my lamp on… it’s the only way I can get through it.”


“Are you trying those deep breathing exercises we have been practicing?” she wondered.


I hadn’t. I felt like they were bullshit, but I said yes to appease her. “It works a bit,” I lied, “it’s nice when there’s a nurse there when I’ve woken up. We have a quick chat and it’s usually a bit relaxing. I’ll be okay.”


I looked back down, continuing to tear at the tissue, leaving shreds of it in the lap of my black sweat pants.


“I had a fight with my sister before, she’s probably sitting in my room still waiting for me. I don’t trust her, Raia.”


“What don’t you trust in particular?”


I shook my head, trying to find a word to verbalise it. “At first I felt like she was on my side, but ever since she’s been bossy and odd. It was like Samuel was a catalyst for her to cement her hatred for my mother and today she dropped it on me that Michael is paying for this treatment…”


“And that bothers you?”


“I mean… yeah,” I drew in a deep exhausted breath, “it definitely bothers me, she told me my Dad asked her for help financially and she openly blew him off. I feel bad because Samuel was a drain on my parents’ finances and then it became me… and I feel bad that Michael probably felt so bad for them that he wore the bill cos my sister is such a bitch.”


“Perhaps your sister isn’t in a financial position to foot such a bill.”


“She is.” I replied, “It’s not that I expect it, but I find it strange considering she pushed and pushed for my spot here. She’s trying to turn me against Kaito by telling me he has a propensity to violence as well, that I should live with her after I leave…”


“And you don’t believe that?”


No, Kaito has been my Godsend, he and I have become so close and he and Michael get along so well, I know its been a long time and a lot of things have passed between us over the years, but we’ve just clicked and I needed that…”


“What I’m hearing, is that you’ve long been waiting to identify with someone from your family. You’ve spent so long feeling as though you’re not entirely a part of it, but that recently Kaito has become more relatable to you, so you feel less alone.”


I nodded, appreciating that she was able to verbalise my feelings.


“Anica started on Michael. She thinks that he’s hanging out for good publicity.”


Raia gave a light chuckle. “Look, honestly, after the effort and care I saw from him the other day, I don’t believe that’s the case. It would be a lot of effort to go to, wouldn’t it?”


I was able to chuckle, too. “He could find any girl to be his publicity beard if necessary. I tried to explain that, but I guess it feels like she’s looking for any way to control me and I don’t know why.”


“Do you consider that maybe given the different personalities in your family, that she is just trying to show her care for you in the only way that she knows how? That maybe, even though it’s not being well-received, there’s no malice intended?”


I shrugged, “I don’t know… I just have a gut feeling that something is not right.”


“Well that’s okay, sometimes it’s okay to trust our instincts; they are there for a reason.”


I nodded.  “I just want to live with my brother. I feel like he’ll truly look out for me and he’ll also be closer to Michael, who, besides today, is always a good support for me.”


Raia listened patiently to me. The more time passed and the more I became accustomed to seeing her, the more I did like having someone to bounce thoughts off.


“And how did things go after you visited with him yesterday morning?” she asked me.


“I went to break up with him, but he wouldn’t accept it. We talked, we both cried, we met in the middle and he promised me we could get through it.”


“What was it that made you both cry?” I hugged my black shrug around me, feeling a little self-conscious.


“Just… frustration with each other, with the situation. He was mad at me for wanting to leave him, I told him I wanted to protect him from ruining something inevitably later… he got upset… I think we’re good for each other, we’re both fucked up in our ways, but at least we’re not encouraging bad behaviour in one another, we actually do our best at trying to heal one another.”


Raia didn’t really comment on it, but she nodded.


“Michael agreed to see a therapist himself to help him during his situation and to also blow off steam about what I’m putting him through,” I said with a laugh.


Raia smiled, “I think that’s a great idea, he will also probably be able to find some ways of supporting you with what you’re going through. It definitely shows a sign of his commitment. It is also a great show of what we were talking about, how we all must work to be the best version of ourselves for the people that we love.”


“I know I need to call Michael and talk to him, but…”


“It’s okay to need time to process everything.  Take your time here as a reprieve, in some ways, from the outside world. Just go through all your day to day routines, such as the art therapy that you enjoy doing with Julia, or the yoga, or whatever it is that you decide to do.”


I nodded slowly.


“Thanks Raia, for seeing me. I appreciate it.” I actually wanted to go back to bed and finish reading the book that I’d stayed up almost the whole night reading.


“If Michael needs a referral to a psychologist, you can let me know and I can help with that,” she told me.


“Thanks.” I smiled.



**

Chapter 47 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

"The blond, groomed host smiled her thin, villainous lips at the camera and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well, who knows,” she spoke to her aging side-kick, “maybe this is all just a publicity stunt for Jackson to seem a little more… digestible in public.”"

....so Malania is all over the media, how long until someone from her treatment centre will find out? 

“Michael, I’m sorry man,” Kaito moaned from under a bed sheet that covered him on the fold-out couch.

I was in an awful mood. I knew I’d said the wrong thing to Malania but I also hated that her defence mechanism was for her to entirely shut down on me. It concerned me that she wouldn’t just talk to me and communicate her feelings. I hated when she got angry and yelled. I wasn’t in to that, but I knew I probably hadn’t picked my timing nor my comments very well.

“Don’t worry about it,” I mumbled.

I knew Malania was quietly pissed about her brother going nuts and ending up in the newspaper. Truthfully, I wasn’t too thrilled about it either, but there was a tiny little bit of me that was impressed that a person was willing to defend me to that extent. Not even my family members had gone to that effort when confronted by loser news reporters or photographers.

“No dude, I fucked up, I’m sorry,” he pulled the sheet from his face and covered his eyes with his hands, probably shielding himself from the blinding light that shot tiny pins in to his eyeballs. Luckily for him, hangover-like drug stupors had been my forte for long enough to realise that a dimly lit room was my friend.

I got up and put a glass of water beside him with a Tylenol. “Here, you might want to take this for your hangover,” I gave him a weak smile.

“I didn’t get you in to trouble did I?” he asked in a rough, gravely voice that didn’t really look like it belonged to the body that it came from.

I almost laughed had I not been so pissed. “No, but I’m not sure your parents or sisters are too happy.”

He grumbled again before slowly easing up from the couch and taking a sip of the water and downing a pill. “Thanks…” he murmured.

The phone beside Michael’s bed began to ring. I saw Kaito flinch from the shrillness of the tone. I hoped it was Malania on the other end calling to tell me that she wished she hadn’t told me to leave.

“Hello?” I picked up the receiver and pressed it to my ear.

“Michael? Hello?” It was an efficient and emotionless voice on the other end. I immediately believed it was Sharon, Greg’s associate.

“Hi Sharon,” I replied icily.

“Anica,” the voice corrected me. I was irritated as to how the hell she got my number. I could have only imagined that Malania had passed it along to her.

“Hi Anica, how are you?” I asked politely feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach as though she were about to tell me to stay away from her sister, or that Malania had asked her to tell me not to call her again.

“Thanks for asking, Michael, I am not fine. I have just been to see my sister.”

I almost gulped out loud. “Is she okay?”

“She’s angry, Michael, she is dealing with too much bullshit, I don’t need to have to be the victim of my sister’s misdirected anger. Where’s Kaito? With you I suppose, trying to rub shoulders so he can get a taste of the high life too…”

“What?” I narrowed my eyes, losing my patience for her civil-played insults. “Anica, that’s not…” my voice trailed off as I shook my head, giving up. I sighed. “Kaito is here, would you like to speak to him?”

I glanced at her brother who was shaking his head and holding up his hand as if he was signalling that he didn’t want to speak with her. I couldn’t help but to smirk at that.

“Yes, I would.”

I held the phone out. “Kaito, your sister would like to speak with you.” I made a show of saying it loud enough for Anica to hear.

Kaito got up reluctantly. He placed his hand over the speaker, “how does she sound?”

“Like she hates me and she is about to rip your face clear off of your shoulders the second you pick up,” I told him bluntly.

Kaito put the phone to his ear. “Anica, hey…”

I could hear everything she said to him. Her voice was loud and aggressive as she let fly.

“You fucking idiot! What the fuck is your problem!” she yelled at him, “don’t you think this family has enough problems?”

“Calm down, Anica, for goodness sakes…” Kaito tried to calm her by not reacting to her aggression.

“Its bad enough that Malania is attached at the hip to a fucking paedophile, but then you have to go and defend him as well—what the fuck is it with that guy?”

I cringed, not being able to contain my hurt.

“Fuck you, you self-righteous bitch!” Kaito snapped, “you’re insane. Tell me what the hell you’ve done that’s so amazing? You couldn’t even bother yourself to help out your own sister with the money for her wellness. All you do is shoot your mouth off, complain, criticise and contribute to Mama and Papa’s pain, so do me a favour and fuck off!” he yelled back.

I heard her yell a spray of insults back, but Kaito replied, losing his interest in it all, “If you ever call Michael that name again, it’ll be the last time Malania or I speak to you, so adjust your fucking attitude and don’t you dare ever try to speak to me like this again!”

He slammed the phone down so hard that I was concerned for a moment that he may have broken it. He took a couple of deep breaths and massaged his temples.

“I’m sorry,” he said again a bit quietly. “I could punch that bitch some days…”

He sat on my unmade bed. “I’m sorry if you heard what she said.”

“Kaito…” I began, “I’m not…” I told him, “I’m-“

“You don’t even have to say it,” he said, holding his hand up to halt me. “I don’t believe it.”

“But I need you to know…” I began, “I’m not a paedophile. That little girl, she was my blessing and her Mom… she was my fucking girlfriend,” I admitted, “And she just… did this and I don’t know why, all I wanted to be to that kid was a good Dad and a good husband to her Mom…”

“I’m sorry Michael…” Kaito apologised again, “I’m sorry that you’re being subjected to this bull… And I don’t even think my sister believes it either, I think she’s just being a bitch.”

I tended to agree with him. I knew if she truly believed that I might be a paedophile, she would never have let her daughter paint with me or sit in my lap the second time I’d been around to learn how to cook.

“I know…”

“It sounds dumb, man, but my family is so bloody complicated that I try to keep my life private from them – that’s why they don’t know about my money, my own issues that I had in London, the things I talk about with Malania…”

I had wondered why he was so private.

“Its just less easy to be hurt by any of them when they don’t have a lot of information about you.”

I nodded. “I know what you mean…” I murmured. “My family is a bit the same.”

Kaito got up and stretched, gaining a little bit more colour back in his severely dehydrated and hung-over face. “Its funny, Malania is in treatment but I’m pretty sure that Anica is the most unstable out of the two of them…”

I managed a laugh at his poor taste joke. “Actually, I’ve already been to Willow Blue and back this morning.”

“Already? Damn… you really must love my sister…” he remarked, “how is she going?” he turned a bit more serious.

I gave a brief smile but it left my mouth quickly as I remembered our fight. “She got mad at me…” I admitted, “she asked me to leave.”

“Wait,” Kaito asked, pulling on a white wife-beater, “was it cos of what I did? Did you show her the paper?”

“Not really, she got mad at something I said… I suggested that maybe she should accept that your parents are going to feel some grief and that she could be more sensitive to that…”

Kaito gave me a look, I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed with me for a moment. “That was brave…”

“I don’t know about brave, but it sure was stupid… anyway, she told me to get lost…” I told him, “I’ll call her a bit later, see if she’s calmed down and if I’m allowed to visit.”

“Don’t sweat it, Mike, I think she needs time… I’m sure she knows everything you’ve said is true, she probably just doesn’t want to hear it right now.”

“I know, but its not really my place to lecture her, I’m her boyfriend, I should just support her feelings…” I sighed. “Anyway, I made an appointment with the realtor to look at those three properties at 3, are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, can I take a shower, is that okay? I’ll probably feel less seedy.”

“Sure,” I nodded, getting up too, I went to grab him a towel from the cupboard. “If you need anything just holler…” I told him. “I’d offer you a fresh set of clothes but well…”

Kaito just laughed.

“I’d need to work out a bit more…” I joked.

**

“What the fuck…” I muttered. “Oh, no…” I felt my body go rigid. I didn’t know if another single thing could go wrong.

“Ka….Kaito…” I called out, “Bro…” I called again without even laughing at our joke name for each other.

Kaito came to me from the kitchenette where he was making himself a sandwich. I learned that the guy could eat. He spent around two hours in the gym a day, so it wasn’t any surprise.

“What’s up bro?” he asked with a chuckle.

I sat, transfixed by what I was seeing on the TV. I had only turned it on for a moment while I was waiting for him to have a snack.

“Fuck…” Kaito cursed as he watched what I was watching. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Your parents are going to kill me….” I murmured, “they’re actually going to kill me…”

He didn’t disagree.

Malania Nakamura has been seen out and about with Jackson since he was charged were brought against him late last month.

And it seems trouble seems to follow Jackson wherever he may go with insider’s reporting that his female company has problems of her own with a string of hospital stays and a current stint in a fifteen thousand dollar-per day stay in an upper-class Californian rehab.

More troubles came Jackson’s way last night with yet another public outing, this time ending in a scuffle outside of a bar in Beverly Hills.

The fluff piece came to an end showing the same photo that had been on the front of the newspaper.

Back to you, Liz!

The blond, groomed host smiled her thin, villainous lips at the camera and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well, who knows,” she spoke to her aging side-kick, “maybe this is all just a publicity stunt for Jackson to seem a little more… digestible in public.”

He nodded smugly; knowingly. I felt disgusted. “Liz, this is Michael Jackson we’re talking about, anything is possible!”

“Fuck you, you stupid, wrinkly prick…” I spat out under my breath with disdain and hatred.

Kaito jumped in front and turned off the television.

My heart was racing. I was first and foremost concerned that the press was going to turn up to the treatment facility. I didn’t want Malania to find out that they had a name to her face.

I felt sick with guilt.

My hands felt tingly with nervousness. “You must want to kill me too…” I muttered.

“Its not your fault,” Kaito said simply. I didn’t know who to contact first.

“Yeah right…” I took in a deep breath and tried to think for a minute. I jumped out of my chair and went to grab the phone. “FUCK!” I cursed aggressively as I grabbed for the receiver.

I dialled a number which was in the back of my memory. “Hi Elizabeth, its Michael…”

“Michael, hello!” Liz exclaimed excited to hear from me, “How are you?”

“In crisis mode,” I told her bluntly, “I need your help…”

“Sure Michael, what can I do for you, sweetheart?” she sounded less excited very quickly. She turned to business-mode. Liz was great in a crisis.

“Remember when I borrowed your publicist for a short bit a couple months back?” I asked rhetorically. “I need to either find someone…. Yesterday… or borrow yours if that’s okay?”

“Michael, if you contact Jennifer, she will take care of you. In the meantime, I’ll help you find someone permanent. Its time for you to get a new camp together.”

“Okay,” I tried to breathe but my heart was still racing.

“Is everything okay? You sound panicky,” she remarked.

“The media’s going nuts,” I admitted, “they’ve found out Malania’s name, I don’t know if they’ve figured out that I’m hanging out with her brother, I just…” I grabbed a handful of my curls as I surveyed the large hotel room that I was renting. It sure was looking like a bachelor pad. “I’m scared for her…”

There was a lot that Liz didn’t know about my relationship with Malania, but I didn’t have time to explain it to her.

“Do you know how they found out?” she asked me.

“I dunno, maybe someone found out where she’s staying, they could have decided that I’ve been hanging out too much with the same person and decided to look in to it… her parents have had a few phone calls…”

“Michael, I’m so sorry, would you like me to come and stay with you?”

“No, its fine, Elizabeth, I’m alright, I just need to get on top of this before it goes crazy and then I need to get down to see Malania as soon as possible.”

“Okay sweetheart,” she agreed, “do you have a pen? I’ll grab you Jennifer’s number.”

I picked up a pen that was on the hotel nightstand beside my bed along with the pad of notepaper beside it.

I jotted down the number that Elizabeth provided me with and quickly ended the conversation with the promise to call back as soon as things had calmed down.

I hung up and turned to Kaito. “Can you call your parents? The last thing I need is for them to hate me for getting both your and Malania’s faces in the press.”

“Dude, we are both grown adults, Malania and I can deal with this.”

I knew he was only trying to help but it frustrated me. “Kaito, your sister is fragile right now, she is paranoid of anyone finding out about her identity and I fucking love her too much to let her get scared away from me even before we get to begin our damn relationship!”

Kaito widened his eyes at my loss of temper. “Okay, okay, just… calm down, it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. I’ll call my parents to give them the heads up and then you can call your contact and we can chat with Malania’s treatment team.”

“The last thing she needs is everyone treating her recklessly during her last two weeks there…” I muttered.

I was beside myself, really. I tried to wait patiently for Kaito to call his parents. I didn’t listen much to the conversation because all I could think about was how Malania was going to react to the news.

She was already having an issue dealing with her brother’s death.

**

By the time we arrived back at Willow Blue to see Malania, Jennifer had already released a statement on my behalf about the situation with Kaito.

“Mr Jackson and his friend were approached by disrespectful paparazzi last night in downtown L.A bar where he was insulted and provoked. However, Mr. Jackson and his friend in question both take full responsibility for the assault that took place and regret that it took place. They would both like to formally apologise to photographer, Jonathan Harkin and fully intend to make amends for the actions by replacing his equipment that was damaged in the scuffle.”

Of course, only certain news outlets bothered to read it out in their afternoon bulletin; but I expected that. Some of them paraphrased it, but I tried not to let it worry me.

Malania’s Dad was worried but not angry with me, thankfully. Helena’s reaction wasn’t talked about. I knew I’d already been on thin ice with her, but at that point it was pretty clear that her father wore the pants and was the household authority.

Thankfully there were no reporters visible at the treatment centre. Kaito went in first to speak to the chief nurse. It was all so exhausting, the celebrity lifestyle – I was starting to feel like I was totally over it all.

I waited, bouncing my leg with anticipation.

“Carsen, while we are inside can you please keep checking for paparazzi?” I asked anxiously.

“Sure Michael,” he nodded. Carsen had been super pissed with both Kaito and I the night before. I felt pretty sheepish, but he had seemed to have calmed down and wasn’t as upset with us.

I hesitated for a moment before leaning forward between the two seats. “I wanted to apologise to you for last night, I shouldn’t have allowed Kaito to get so sloppy…”

“Don’t mention it Michael, I was mad last night, but its just because my number one priority is your safety.”

I eased back against the seat and looked around nervously. I finally saw him re-emerge. He gave me a wave. I got out of the car and followed him into the entrance.

I was happy to see Malania waiting for me in her room.

She was a bit wet-eyed and I could see tearstains on her cheeks and could tell she’d spent a lot of time crying. “Hi, sweetie…” I greeted her feeling my heart melt a tiny bit upon seeing what a mess she was.

Her eyes filled with tears again as I drew close. I didn’t even care about earlier in the morning. I didn’t care that she had been mad at me. I closed the distance between the both of us and slipped my arms around her. “I’m sorry…” I apologised quietly.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you,” she whispered. I kissed the crown of her head.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” I comforted her, smoothing her hair as she hugged me back tightly. I kissed her temple. “I just want you to be okay…”

She loosened her embrace after a moment. I turned to find her brother but he wasn’t there. I guessed he was speaking to someone on my behalf.

I took her face in both hands and guided her to look at me. I gave her a weak smile, hating what the day had turned in to for the both of us. I thumbed away her new tears. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but I didn’t want to involve anything that would complicate things further.

“I need to talk to you about something a bit serious…” I told her.

She looked concerned. “Are you breaking up with me?” she asked instantly as if I were about to flip the switch on everything.

I managed a chuckle. “Never,” I murmured, looking in to her gorgeous brown eyes. I pressed my lips against hers as if to assure her.

“Okay then, hit me with it… this day couldn’t get worse…” she told me taking a deep breath.

I knew it needed to be delivered to her like pulling off a band-aid. “The media figured you out. They know your name… We saw a news report just before we came.”

She didn’t react. Instead, I watched her face fall. “I’m really sorry… I really didn’t want this to happen.”

“Its okay…” she replied stoically even though it wasn’t okay.

“I have a temporary publicist who is taking care of everything. I want them to leave you alone, my heart, so I’m going to maintain that you are a long-term friend… we can angle it as you are ‘just’”, I made air quotes, “the sister of my friend, Kaito…”

“Okay…” she nodded.

“Is that what you want?” I asked her, forgetting almost that she might feel different.

“For now…” she murmured, “its probably for the best.”

“If we were in the other situation? How would you want me to deal with this?” I asked her, wanting an honest answer.

She stared at her hands for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Jeez, I thought, as she looked at me again. There was so much going on behind her eyes, she just looked entirely spent.

“I’d want you to be honest…” she replied, “I mean, you don’t necessarily need to release a statement saying, ‘yes you’re all correct, Malania is my girlfriend’, but I guess in a perfect world, we wouldn’t have to hide it.”

I was glad that she said that. It made me feel confident in her feelings. “Should I expect everyone to start treating me different?” she asked.

“I don’t know, honestly, Kaito spoke with your-“

Malania’s room door opened up and behind it peeked out a short, thin dark-haired girl who I knew immediately was Julia. “Oh! Sorry!”

Malania looked up to see her, “No wait, come in…” she said, “close the door,”

Julia didn’t say a word but followed Malania. “Michael, I want you to meet Julia, my friend… Julia, this is Michael…”

She smiled a bit dumbfounded. “Hi Michael, nice to meet you.” She certainly wasn’t starstruck, but given what I’d been told about her own background, I understood why.

I stuck my hand out and she shook it. “You too,” I replied, smiling at her. She turned to Malania, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Just a bad day,” Malania flashed her a weary smile, “but we’ll be okay.”

“Um… I saw the news…”

My eyes widened, “what did you see?” I asked, feeling my panic that had momentarily subsided, come back to me.

“Its okay,” Julia said quickly, “I wasn’t watching TV in the common room, I was in my bedroom, I saw them name Malania and showed some footage of you and Malania’s brother leaving a club.”

“Damn it!” I exclaimed, frustrated. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry for this…” I apologised to her.

She was quite stoic about it all and sometimes that concerned me more than anything.

“I’m gonna leave you guys to it,” she turned to Malania, “Come and see me when you’re free? I have some things to give you…”

“Okay,” Malania gave her a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Michael,” Julia waved and let herself out of the room.

“Julia’s leaving tomorrow morning, she’s going home…”

“Oh,” I replied, concerned that Malania didn’t care too much about what was happening in the media.

“Malania, what do you want to do if everyone here finds out about you?” I asked her point blank.

She looked at her hands and shook her head and shrugged. “What do you think?” she asked, “I mean, you’ll release that statement and everything will be okay? People might act a bit weird, but they will get over it…”

How could I tell her what was going to happen next? How could I explain that they knew her name and wouldn’t stop at that? There would be investigations in to her medical records and money spoke louder than privacy conditions.

“I’m just being honest, your parents are probably going to come and try to sort this out. Kaito says your Dad isn’t too mad at me, but I’m not so sure… so whatever happens from here, just know how sorry I am…”

“Michael, fuck what my parents think, what you and I have is none of their business,” she snapped, “I don’t even care. I am not going to let anyone try to take you away from me, not my Mom or Dad, not Anica, or not some stupid asshole that lives down the hall from me.”

I wondered where her anger was coming from. “Please don’t be mad at them anymore… they’re just worried for you,” I spoke softly and calmly in hope that it would wind her down.

“Anica came in after you today, we had a big fight and all she did was try to tell me you were using me… And you know what, Michael? You told me months ago that I needed to stop feeling guilty for my feelings and I’m glad you said that cos its so fucking exhausting trying to see things from everyone else’s point of view!”

I was surprised about Anica. I knew she wasn’t my biggest fan, but I felt like we were okay.

“I’m sorry that happened,” I remarked.

“I just want to get through the last two weeks and start a new life, Michael, if that includes the media bothering me, then fine, whatever, I don’t care as long as you’re with me.”

I felt somewhat at ease. I was glad she wasn’t angry with me anymore, glad that the anger was pointed elsewhere.

At that point, Kaito waltzed in and joined in the conversation, thankfully bringing a little bit of comedy relief and giving Malania a running account of what he did the night before when the paparazzi insulted me.

Slowly, she began to calm down and found a way to laugh with us.

 

Chapter 48 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

I cant remember if this chapter has any triggers, but just please be aware. Also thank you for all your kind reviews. I love to read them and value each one of them even if I don't immediately have the time to reply. 

And zOmg. I finally hit the double number reviews! haha, I was so excited by that! Thanks everyone :) 

Chapter 48


Channel 4 kept repeating the same footage over and over at each newsbreak. I felt sick and revolted inside each time the news broadcaster used my name. It was surreal and upsetting but the bigger part of me felt awful for Michael because I knew just how guilty he felt.


The chief nurse had come to see me and requested to see Michael separately. They politely asked that he not visit me anymore because of concerns about attracting attention from paparazzi and other media.


I was livid at first, but after Michael reframed it as providing privacy to the other patients, I just felt incredibly down. I wasn’t even allowed to visit him for day release.


My Mama turned up unexpectedly two days after my name had been released to the public.


I don’t know why she suddenly decided to come, but it had been almost three weeks since I’d last laid eyes upon her. She looked sad, weary and … broken.


She let herself in my room. It was saddening for me and I felt guilty.


“Mama…” my voice trailed off. I wasn’t sure if she was going to be angry with me for Samuel killing himself, or if she would be happy to see me.


Her mouth curled up into the making of a smile. It was weird how much of a difference three weeks made. She seemed thinner in the face and was paler than usual. “Malania…” she breathed my name slowly with her strong accent.


I jumped up from my bed where I’d been sulking all day. I felt overwhelmed by my own emotions and they began to overcome me.


My Mama embraced me tightly, wrapping her arms around me and stroked my hair. I inhaled her familiarity and relished the warmth of her; her comfort was different to that of anyone else in my life. It felt inexplicably reassuring despite everything I had been through and despite all that I blamed her for.


“My Malania…” she said again, “don’t cry, please don’t cry…”


“I’m sorry,” I apologised, drawing away from her. I could see that she was crying too.


“I missed you…” she said, wiping her eyes.


“Why didn’t you visit, Mama?” I asked her point-blank.


She sat down on my bed, drawing me next to her. “I didn’t know what to say, I know you’ve been so upset, draga. With me.”


She had a point. I knew had she come to see me immediately after the news of Samuel, I would have refused to see her.


“Mama…” I began slowly, taking a deep breath, “I’m … I-“ I paused, “I’m sorry about Samuel…for… your loss.” It took all of my bravery to say the words out loud. It felt odd to say them.


Michael and Raia had both been right. Feelings weren’t like a tap; they couldn’t be switched off. I knew regardless of how hurt my mother had been to find out Samuel’s actions toward me, she still would have been grieving the loss of her son. It wasn’t anyone’s fault; it was just the way it was.


It was all I needed to say. I watched her face crumple in to tears. It was my turn to embrace her. She apologised repeatedly for her sadness, but it was okay. Suddenly, I found that I didn’t mind so much that she was sad for the loss of her son.  Rather, I felt bad that I hadn’t tried to be more understanding.


“I love you Mama, volim te.” It always meant a little something more to her to hear it in her native tongue.


Volim te isto, sečeru…” she repeated through her tears.


When our tears had subsided, Mama sat a little stiffly beside me. There had been so much unspoken that it was almost awkward. “How are you feeling?” she asked me, looking over me as if trying to make sure that I was well.


“I’m okay, everything feels strange at the moment,” I admitted, “but I’ll manage.” 


Draga, please, we must start over together – I don’t want to lose you.”


For a moment I was confused by what she meant. She must have realised.


“I want you to be able to tell me all in your heart, Malania,” I missed the way she drawled my name in her strong accent. It sounded so familiar and so comforting. “I want to support you always no matter if it hurts my heart sometimes.”


“I don’t want to hurt you, Mama,” I told her honestly as I reached to place my hand in hers. “Sometimes it’s hard to be kind about something when I’ve been badly hurt myself, though.”


“Like with Samuel,” she supplied.


I nodded.


“I will get help also so that I can be a good Majka to you again.”


I couldn’t help but to smile. “Thank you, Mama,” I said, kissing her cheek.


We talked about my name getting in to the press and about Kaito getting in to some trouble with Michael. Surprisingly, my Mama was quite calm about it all, a lot calmer than I’d expected. She said my Dad had dropped her off on his way to see Kaito and Michael to debrief on all that had transpired over past few days. 


Mama gingerly asked me how I felt about Samuel and I saw that she was still deeply sad. She almost broke down, so I just told her I was okay. I didn’t want to create more stress; I just wanted to get through it.


“Mama, have you seen Anica today?” I asked. Mama shook her head. “I’d prefer if you asked her not to visit me again. She’s kind of toxic for me right now.”


I explained a little about what had happened and Mama frowned. “Anica is just worried about you, maybe she doesn’t know how to show that.”


I shrugged, “I will see her when I’m gone from here, I don’t want to be stressed out and I need her to accept that Michael isn’t going anywhere.”


“Papa tells me that Kaito is looking to buy a property near Santa Barbara airport and that you will move with him…” she brought up the subject slowly trying to dim the light on my anger for what had happened earlier with my sister.


I just nodded. “I think it’s time, Mama. I think we all need our space right now,” I added. “Can I be honest with you?”


She slowly nodded. I wasn’t sure she was about to like what I had to tell her. “Sometimes, Mama, its hard for me to be at home – maybe that’s why I liked to go to see Michael—after what happened, there were so many times where I felt anxious to be home.”


Mama didn’t know how to respond to that.


“I know it hurts to hear, and I’m not trying to be hurtful, Mama, but I want to be honest. I am not leaving home because I’m angry with you or Papa, I’m leaving because of everything that happened in my bedroom—it’s hard for me.”


She seemed to accept my explanation. “Malania, you know if I could have known, I would have stopped it, I would never have let him harm you like that.”


I felt tears resurfacing, but I blinked them away. I was so fucking done with all the tears. I just nodded.


“I’m not sorry about my brother, I am relieved, Mama, but I know for you and Papa its not so easy.  I’m trying very hard to be understanding of that, so be patient with me, okay?”


She encircled her arms around me again and held me close to her.


A mother’s reassurance, that’s really all that was necessary. Surely, it was me whistling a totally different tune compared to how I felt when I found out the news.


There were many things that I could have let bother me about my Mom’s visit, such as why she took so long, why she didn’t support me more whole-heartedly, why she didn’t know what to say – but, I chose for now to just avoid those questions and deal with it in therapy.


Above all, I loved my Mama so infinitely in spite of her shortcomings and if I took anything from these faults, it was notes on what I wouldn’t do to my own children. 


**


It felt kind of tough saying goodbye, but it was another necessity.


I hugged Clair like she was my best friend and I left Julia most of my things as though she was my little sister and I was moving away from home. She was set to leave in three days and I promised to keep in touch.


She had cried while I was packing and I felt bad for leaving her there, but it was definitely for the best.


The press had been camping outside of the treatment centre for almost an entire week and everyone had been acting weird with me, including some of the staff.


My Dad, who had been a little cold with me since that group session after Samuel’s death, had informed me that some things had been written about me by a healthcare professional which had been reproduced. 


Neither of us were happy about that, but the treatment facility had been a great place to be able to block it all out.


However, the straw that broke the camel’s back was a night earlier during dinner. Peyton was going through one of her almost-nightly meltdowns because the nurses weren’t letting her get away with refusing to eat. The nurses kept threatening her with hospital care or a nasal gastric tube to force her to eat.


Of course, I’d made the mistake of laughing at a joke Julia had made about Michael and I finally getting some private time after these past few weeks, which I’m pretty sure Peyton took as me making fun of her.


She threw back her chair, shocking some of the other patients. I heard a nurse, Karen, warn her to sit back down. I didn’t immediately realise that she was melting down over my laughter. I made it my business not to give her any attention even when she was yelling at me from the corridor for no apparent reason.


Julia put her head down. Peyton intimidated her and since she had befriended me, Peyton had paid special negative attention to poor Julia. She made a beeline to us, “What the fuck are you laughing at half-assed Asia?”


Initially I was a little taken a-back. I heard the warnings come clear and fast from the nurse, but given everything that had happened over the past week or so, I wasn’t about to let her get away with it anymore.


“Dial down your ego, Peyton, I couldn’t give a shit about you or your dinner time dramas,” I replied evenly without raising my voice or changing my tone. I sounded bored and disinterested.


“You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you? You think we all don’t read the news, you piece of shit? You think you’re soooo much better than me, don’t you?” she pressed, getting closer and closer, invading my personal space.


I put my fork down. I had never felt a stronger urge to clobber a bitch. She was really dancing a jig with the devil, messing with me while I had sharp objects within reach.


“Peyton, get out of my face, I’m warning you,” I told her through clenched teeth.


“What are you gonna do Miss Jackson?!” she taunted, never the less taking a step back and laughing at her own nastiness.


I sucked in a deep breath. I said nothing, which apparently just seemed to fuel her behaviour despite her being reprimanded from all directions of the nursing staff.


“Yeah, that’s what I thought; nothing… just like what you did when your big brother was banging you every night.”


I felt my entire body go cold and rigid. I could barely breathe. The oxygen seemed to dry up in my lungs and instead, it burned to try to get fresh air.


“It’s okay,” Julia whispered to me, obviously realising that Peyton had hit a raw nerve. I was completely frozen, unsure if I wanted to be sick or if I wanted to collapse with grief that someone besides Michael or a family member, knew my secret.


Peyton was ushered off to her room and still I sat, staring silently into my food, too humiliated, shell-shocked and stunned to move.


How does she know? How does she know? How does she know?


The question repeated over and over as though it was on repeat.


 My led-weight body seemed to slowly regain some feeling and I became acutely aware of my racing heart and I began to have a full-blown anxiety attack like the ones I suffered when I awoke from my nightmares.


“Mal, are you okay?” Julia asked. She’d risen from her seat across from and slid in beside me. She was careful not to touch me, I liked that she respected personal space. “Don’t worry, she is totally crazy.”


I wasn’t entirely sure what happened because all of my attention seemed to zero in on Peyton’s words. A nurse ushered Julia away and took her place beside me.


I didn’t even realise immediately that it was Clair, my favourite nurse.


She was often assigned to me.  Probably because we had built a good rapport and quietly, I also think she liked me as a person.


“Malania, how about we just get up from here, very slowly,” she suggested, “and we head back to your room where we can chat in private.”


I found myself giving an uncertain nod.


“Okay.” she pushed her chair back and took my arm, helping me to my feet. I still felt like a zombie but I was starting to lose that dizzying grief that had so quickly overcome me.


Once back in my room, I opted to sit in the armchair and Clair went to get me a cup of tea.


“Do you want to talk about what happened back there?” she asked kindly, sitting beside me.


“How does she know?” I asked, trying hard to swallow the giant lump in my throat. “How did she know those things about me?”


Clair didn’t answer.


“I want to go home, I can’t stay here anymore, not now…” I shook my head, gulping back my own sobs. “I want to call my brother, can I?”


“Take some deep breaths, sweetheart,” Clair ignored my request. “Just calm down, Peyton says a lot of stupid things when she’s mad at herself.”


I shook my head, “Clair, she knew!” I argued, eyeing off my phone. “I want to call my brother.”


She said nothing and passed me the phone. I pressed the buttons, dialing the number Michael had given me. Both he and my brother were at Neverland, where Kaito was staying while looking for a property for us. On the third or fourth ring, Michael answered.


“Michael,” I murmured tearfully.


“Oh hey my heart, how are you?”


I could barely hold my tears back. I tried to keep composed. “Michael, I need to speak with my brother, is he there?”


“Sure…” he replied uncertainly. “Are you okay?”


I sniffed, “No, but I need to speak to Kaito.”


Michael didn’t say another word. I heard a muffled sound, his hand must have been sound proofing the phone. A few moments later my brother picked up the receiver.


“Hi Mal, what’s wrong?”


I began to sob like a baby. He demanded to know what had happened but really he couldn’t get anything out of me until I calmed down.


Clair sat beside me and instructed me to breathe, but my voice was trembling along with every other part of me. “Kaito…” I murmured, “I need you to come and get me, I can’t stay here anymore, they all know.”


“Sweetheart,” Kaito began in a soft, compassionate voice, “calm down for a moment and tell me what happened.”


I wiped my eyes and let out a shaky sigh. “One of the girls here,” I began to explain, “she freaked out on me and made a comment about my brother… and what…” I could barely say it out loud, “and what he did to me. How does she know?”


If he knew, he didn’t say. “Can you do me a favour? Can you hold off just for tonight?” he asked me, “I want you to calm down a little bit, have a chat to Mike before bed like usual and I’ll be there tomorrow morning to sort this bullshit out, okay?” 


It wasn’t okay, I wanted to be out of there immediately, but I agreed. I had no one else to rely on. I didn’t think either of my parents would understand.


“Okay,” I murmured almost inaudibly.


“I love you, kiddo, do you want to have a word to your loverboy?” he asked in a way that was both comforting and slightly teasing. He wasn’t trying to gloss over what I’d told him, but I guessed it was his way of trying to calm me down.


“I don’t know…” I paused, “No, ask him to call me at the regular time. I just need to be alone, I think, for a little while.”


“Okay…Malania, it’ll be okay, I know you’re upset,” he told me, “but we’ll work this out, I promise.”


“K…”


He tried to talk to me for a few minutes more until he was satisfied that I’d calmed down, but I wasn’t interested. I wanted to curl up in bed and cry myself to sleep.


**


So, I was leaving.


My parents weren’t happy, but Raia recommended me for outpatient care. I would be meeting with her every other day at her private office near the treatment facility. I didn’t care that it was still so far from Neverland just as long as it wasn’t back at Willow Blue. I was happy to see the back of that place.


Kaito signed me out. I was so happy to be free. Julia cried and I almost cried too, feeling bad for leaving her, but I knew she would be okay and I promised to call her before bed the way Michael did for me. 


The drive to Santa Barbara was a quiet one. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk and getting through the conclave of press outside of the facility centre had been a bit of a joke. Kaito wasn’t driving his own car so we were able to get in and out of the gates without too much drama.


Apparently, according to the chief nurse, depending upon what patients were there, it wasn’t unusual to have to endure a small volume of media every now and again. However, given Michael’s situation, this was a whole lot more attention than anything they had experienced.


“Are Mom and Dad mad at you?” I asked.


Kaito looked over at me and smiled weakly. “Yeah, but… they’ll be fine. They knew this was going to happen. Also, we want to keep you away from anywhere the media might think to nose around,” he replied with a shrug.


I was nervous about seeing Michael. Just him and I. We often had time alone when he was allowed to visit, but it had been a long time since we didn’t have a staff member checking in to make sure nothing was going on between us.


Perhaps I was scared again of his expectations.


But either way, it was weird to finally have the kind of relationship I wanted. To see him when I wanted, to speak to him without a filter or without having to double-check our privacy.


It was nerve-wracking.


My insecurities were going nuts. What if we didn’t get along outside of our conditional relationship that Willow Blue set for us? What if I didn’t cope with it? What if it all got to be too much?


“But,” Kaito interrupted me from my verge of a panic attack, “if this all feels too weird for you, you can go back to Mom and Dads, you know that, right?”


I just nodded.


“I thought you’d be happier to be out of there, Mal…” he probed me, wondering why I was a bit quiet.


“I am happy to be out, I just…” I shrugged, “I’m scared for what’s ahead of me.”


“One day at a time,” he reminded me.


**


Neverland looked a little different from the outside. It had been a work in progress last time I visited a few months back. Now it was more vibrant and there were a lot more ornaments and decorations filling the gardens and pathways.


I breathed in the nicest lungful of clean, crisp air and indulged myself in a smile. I stretched out, reaching for the sky. I couldn’t wait to wear proper clothing that didn’t involve sweatpants and chucks without the laces.


“Your boyfriend is a genius; how lovely is this place?”


I chuckled. Sometimes Kaito’s British vernacular made me laugh. It came out every now and then along with an accent that at times sounded comical and put-on.


“Yeah…”


The door flung open and there he was. He stood at the top of a flight of stairs that led to the main entrance of his home. He wore a pair of black slacks and a red plaid button down shirt.


He stood at the top of the stairs, grinning at us with his curls tied back behind his head. He surveyed me for a moment and lifted a hand to wave before coming down the stairs to meet me at the landing.


It was a slight bit awkward. My brother, sensing that we probably needed a moment to ourselves, grabbed my bag and slung it over his shoulder. He walked past us and up the stairs, letting himself through the open door and into Michael’s house as though it was more than just a brief resting place.


I was temporarily distracted by his comfort in my boyfriend’s home.


“Um, is that okay?” I asked, pointing.


Michael turned behind him, catching Kaito disappearing through the doorway.


He shrugged and smiled at me. “Really?” he asked, “I haven’t seen you for over a week and that’s what you’re concerned about?”


He was joking of course, but I knew there was an element of impatience for a hug and a kiss on his part. I took a step closer and felt him take my hands. “I’m so freakin’ nervous…” I admitted to him.


“Why?” he chuckled, “whatcha gotta be nervous about?”


I couldn’t help but to grin at him. I gave a little shrug. “I don’t know… it’s weird to be with you here again, without any confinement or conditions or rules… It’s like I’m on probation or something.”


“Well, the condition is that you see your shrink and you never skip out on her,” he replied, closing the distance between us. I stood on my tiptoes to meet his lips for a soft kiss.


“Shut up about the shrink for now…” I commanded gently.


He kissed me again, letting go of my hands and sliding his arms around me. “I’ve missed you so much…”


“Me too…” I told him with honesty.


“I felt so bad because I knew you were having such an awful time and there was nothing I could do to make it better…” he pouted.


I couldn’t resist those lips. I kissed him again. I wanted to kiss him again and again and in a more private instance. Where had my nervousness gone?


“Come on,” he said after he pulled away, “let’s get you inside, it gets cold out here in the afternoon.”


 

Chapter 49 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

This is the hidden adventure of Michael and Malania hanging out in the "trauma tree" -- the tree formerly known as The Giving Tree.

Chapter 49

No offence to Kaito, but his presence was kind of a hindrance.  I know he missed his sister too, but he’d been able to visit her a lot over those three weeks that I’d missed.

I knew Malania felt the same way but she didn’t really show it. We sat an awkward distance apart from one another. Kaito made us dinner and that guy could cook for real. I joked about hiring him as my personal chef.

We watched TV together, the three of us, ignoring the news outlets for the most part. Kaito and I had decided that I’d be the one to tell her the extent of the press’ coverage of her, but I hadn’t found the right time just yet.

When Kaito got up to get a drink, I felt Malania tug on my arm, “Baby,” she started, “can we go for a walk or something or even go sit in your room and talk--?”

I couldn’t help but produce a giant smile. “I don’t think your brother would like me taking you to my bedroom.”

“Why did you ever agree to let him stay here?” she asked.

I had begun to ask myself the same question. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy Kaito’s company, because I truly did, he was funny and real and he really didn’t care about my celebrity. I’d come to find out he was wealthy in his own right, so it wasn’t like he needed my money.  Fact was that he didn’t care about my status; he just liked hanging out.

I laughed, “don’t be like that, your brother didn’t want the media to follow him to your parents place, he wanted to keep things calm for everyone.”

“I know but… he coulda stayed in the guest house,” she joked.

I cocked my head to the side showing her that I was a little bit disappointed with her negativity. She just smiled.

“Don’t worry, he usually works out shortly after dinner—“ I informed her, looking in to her pretty eyes, wondering to myself why there was so much space between us.

Malania laughed, “And have your menstrual cycles synced up too?”

I laughed too, “What?!” I asked, “what do you mean?”

“You seem to know everything that each other does, maybe I’m the third wheel,” she teased.

“Shut up and get over here,” I retorted, holding out my hand. She scooted over beside me and folded her legs beneath her as she always seemed to, balling herself up. She tucked herself under my shoulder and rested her head on my chest.

“We’ll get a chance to talk, I promise,” I added.

As if hearing us, and perhaps he had, Kaito re-entered the room pulling on a hoodie. “I’m going to the gym,” he announced. “Give you guys a chance to spend some time together.”

I had showed him the gym on the other end of the property that was covered with a thick layer of dust, which had been the case since everything was raided. I wasn’t much of a work-out kinda guy. At times when I was trying to build up endurance, I spent time running on a treadmill, but that was the extent of it.

Dancing was really my only form of exercise and that seemed to be working out just fine for me. 

“Take the golf cart down if you need…” I replied, “the keys are on the little hook by the front door.”

Kaito stared at me blankly and looked at his sister. They both exchanged chuckles.

“What?!” I asked, glancing from Malania back to him. “What’s so funny?”

“Yeah right Michael,” he rolled his eyes. It felt weird to hear him call me Michael. “I’m gonna drive a fuckin’ golf cart to the gym.” Both he and Malania began to laugh again at my seemingly stupid suggestion.

“I mean,” I sputtered, “I don’t know,” I threw my hands up in exasperation, “I don’t work out… how should I know how one wants to get to a gym?”

Kaito shook his head, “You’re too funny, but no thanks, I’ll just start my run from here to the gym and warm down with the run on the way back. You need to work out more, homie.”

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. I saw Malania raise an eyebrow at his stupid use of the word ‘homie’.

“He’s not your homie, don’t call him that. He has a name, use it,” she told her brother bluntly.

Kaito said nothing and laughed at her as if she seemed like she was joking, but she had been pretty serious. “Be responsible, kids,” he joked before disappearing down out of the family room. We heard his footsteps take the stairs to the foyer.

“So…” I turned to Malania with my giant smile that couldn’t seem to be wiped off my face. “Your brother either overheard us, or totally got the hint that we need to spend some time as just the two of us.”

She grinned back at me. I didn’t say a word but rather turned my body toward her and closed the distance between our lips. I wasn’t quite prepared for her to make any moves since she had seemed quite nervous around me when she’d arrived earlier in the afternoon, but she surprised me.

I felt her arms snaking around my neck, drawing me closer so I decided to just go with it. Her lips pressed hard against mine and our bodies seemed to mould against one another. I prodded her lips apart and slipped my tongue inside for a series of short and lingering kisses, grazing the very tip of her tongue with mine with each one.

I decided to keep my hands above shoulders, I buried them in her hair, running my fingertips against her scalp as her kisses grew a little bit more intense and urgent.

It wasn’t long before I felt my body responding to her and I knew it was time to back off a bit. It had been a long while since I’d seen any action and my body was overly excited.

I closed my lips together, trying to end the kiss despite her insistence on continuing it. I felt her hands gripping my shoulders firmly at first but upon the realisation that I was ending our kisses, she seemed to relax.

She kissed me one last time, her lips remained connected for a moment as I drew in a breath, trying to gather my self-control. I leaned my forehead against hers, taking a second. She was obviously trying to do the same.

I let my hands find their way in to hers. I laced our fingers together before slowly opening my eyes. “I missed you…” I whispered.

“I missed you so much…” she whispered back.

I kissed her again.

“So talk...” I commanded with a little bit of humour “because, we can’t just sit here kissing all night.”

I felt her laughter reverberating against my lips. She began to pull away slightly. “Why not? I love to kiss you.”

“I love to kiss you too, my heart, but I think I need to just… cool off.”

“Oh, right…” she replied a little bit more rigidly, almost as if she was a little offended. Her fingers went a little limp as if her heart was no longer in holding my hands.

“No, no, no…” I quickly added, “don’t get me wrong,” I told her, “I just don’t want to put any pressure on you, or… I don’t know—“ I sighed.

“This is obviously what we need to talk about then…” she replied in a more mature way than I’d expected given our last conversation regarding sex.

There was a large part of me that wasn’t really in the mind frame for that merry-go-round of a conversation again, but I knew I had to oblige her initiative to communicate since I didn’t know when it would happen again.

“If that’s what you’d like to talk about…”

“Michael,” she told me, looking into my eyes, “Michael, I do want to sleep with you,” she told me.

I must have looked shocked. My eyes shot open wide. She began to chuckle, “Not this second, not right in this moment.”

I laughed too. “Alright…”

“I mean, I just need you to know that what happened with … him, I don’t want it to cause problems, but it might… and I just want you to be prepared for that… sometimes my body and brain don’t communicate very well when I’m with you. My body wants one thing and my brain wants another, so please just be patient.”

I smiled, “Okay well how about this – I won’t make any moves on you, you have to initiate things, okay? I’ll keep things PG when we make out but if you want things to progress further, you’ll either let me know in the moment, or you’ll make that move, okay?”

She slowly nodded, not taking her eyes off mine for even a second. I was pretty proud of her. She had obviously figured things out a bit more clearly.

“But if I change my mind or-“

“I’ll totally understand,” I hurriedly interrupted, finishing her sentence. “I’ll get it. I’ll stop. All you need to do is tell me, “Michael stop,” and I promise I’ll stop.”

She smiled back at me and kissed my lips. “You know what?” I began, “I’m proud of you, love…”

“Thanks, me too…”

“I mean it,” I told her, “a month ago we couldn’t even have this conversation. I’m totally proud of you, you’ve come so far…”

She blushed and looked pretty pleased with herself. I got up from the couch and grabbed her hand. “Come on, let me show you what I’ve done with the place since you were last here.”

I knew I couldn’t be lying all over the couch with her in my current state. She untucked her legs from beneath her and let me guide her from the living room downstairs to what used to be Casey’s room, next to mine.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed when I opened the door. It was no longer a little girl’s room; it was where she was going to stay. Really, I’d just changed it back into a guest room. I’d had it stripped back of all its pink wallpaper and painted a more neutral latte colour and had put all the things necessary for her stay in there. A lamp beside her bed, a stack of books that I thought she might like, a television in case she had problems sleeping and a desk for drawing or writing, or whatever she wanted.

I wanted to give her a place to spend time if she needed to be alone. I vowed not to take that personal if she decided she needed space every now and then.

“Wow, Michael, this looks great,” she told me as she leaned in to me as we stood in the doorway. She looked around with interest.     

“Thanks sweetheart, it’s where I figured you could stay while you guys are here, it’s next to my room so if you need me in the night, you can just knock on the wall.”

Malania smiled. The head of the queen-sized bed that filled Casey’s old room was situated against the very same wall that my own bed head sat against.

“Why, am I not allowed to come and wake you up?” she asked innocently.

“Of course you can…” I replied, “that’s kinda the idea.”

“Where has Kaito been camping?” she wondered, looking behind her as if she expected he were staying in the room on the other side of the hallway.

“He’s staying upstairs in that guest room. Can’t have him being too much of a policeman,” I joked.

“Thank goodness… don’t get me wrong Michael, I love my brother, but all I’ve wanted is to see you and spend time with you and he keeps zizzing around like a fly,” she said with frustration. I knew it wasn’t meant cruely as I could hear a note of playful sarcasm in her tone.

I smirked. “Come on, your brother was so excited to come and get you…”

“I know, but I was pissed off, Michael,” she told me bluntly, “when I called and tried to talk to him about what had happened, he basically put me on hold and told me that I should wait until the morning and tried to fucking joke with me!”

I remembered when he had received the phone call from her the night before; she was hysterical. He had relayed the conversation back to me once he’d hung up, but we were in a bind ourselves that we were trying to deal with.

One that Malania wasn’t yet aware of.

A health practitioner, probably just a stupid nurse from her previous inpatient stay had leaked information to the press about why she was in treatment. There was mention of a suicide attempt and serious self-harm. There was talk of sexual assault, too.

The hospital remained adamant that there was no leak from their end, but I wasn’t so sure. The information was too accurate. It wasn’t too long before Samuel became an interest to the media and then there was that

We all agreed that some of that news would be best coming from me. I felt like I was to blame, but also Malania responded to me in a more open and honest way than her brother or father.

“What’s the matter?” Malania asked me, touching my cheek. I guessed that my thoughts had washed over my expression.

“Nothing, nothing… I’m sorry he wasn’t as supportive as you needed him to be, but honestly, he’s been struggling a little too.”

If she was frustrated by me defending him; she didn’t say anything.

“Okay, well, are you trying to tell me to go to bed?” she wondered.

I laughed, there was still that awkward air of the unknown. I wished it would just disperse back to the times where Malania would spend the night and feel comfortable enough to lay about with me and watch TV.

“No, I just wanted to show you…” her belongings were still by the front door.

The first thing she had when she arrived after greeting me was a long, hot shower. She complained to me that she had no privacy at Willow Blue. “But, I have an idea, do you want to do something a bit romantic?”

I saw her eyes flick up to mine as we stood idle, still in the doorway. She showed some genuine interest.

“We could get some drinks and go and hang out in the hot tub and shoot the breeze and catch up on all the things we didn’t get to talk about while you were in the hospital,” I suggested.

“Can’t,” she told me flatly, “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

I clearly hadn’t thought that through.

“Oh yeah, that… what about, since Kaito was too good for the golf cart, we take it for a spin and I can show you something that will make you think I’m either a genius or totally insane.”

She smiled, “Or maybe both,” she teased.

**

“I’ma get one of these golf cart type engine thingys,” I told her as I gave her a hand in to her side of the cart, “and I’m going to get it turned in to a batmobile or something, don’t you think that would be fun?”

She laughed, “Absolutely, I love Batman. He’s obviously far more superior than that dweeb, Clark Kent.”

“Aw, I love Superman too…” I admitted. Malania rolled her eyes and gave me a playful smile.

I had to admit, she looked a lot healthier outside of the confines of the treatment centre. She had colour back in her face and her smile wasn’t forced. There was no air of regret from the knowledge that I’d be forced to leave, as for the first time in a long time, I didn’t have to.

She was wearing a pair of blue jeans that I hadn’t seen before and a white t-shirt that her brother had loaned her since she had been fast running out of clothes that she wanted to wear.

Kaito was going back to Fountain Valley for her to pick up some things the next morning. She thought she was going with him, but we had all decided that in order to protect her for the time being, the safest place for her was at Neverland.

“You’re so quiet tonight…” she remarked as she let her eyes travel out over the lights that lit up my property.

“Sorry,” I apologised, “It’s good to have you back and there’s a lot going on, I suppose…”

“Tell me about it…” she commanded me, “what’s on your mind?”

We were almost at our destination. I pulled up as close as I could to the giant, aged, oak tree. I smiled up at it as I turned the cart off. “We’re here…” I ignored her question.

She glanced at the tree too, noticing that it was wrapped in beautiful little white fairy lights and lit up by dimly lit spotlights in the ground circling it.

She immediately laughed noticing the wooden foot planks and metal climbing handles I’d had bolted in to the body of it to facilitate the climb to small little landing I’d reserved at the top for hanging out.

“What is this little penchant you have for making me climb things?” she asked. I remembered back to when we’d hung out on the roof at my apartment in Hidden Hills.

I laughed, “I just like to be up high… it’s serene, especially here… you can see the whole place.”

“I don’t know if I can climb up there, it’s so high…” she remarked. I liked that she wasn’t flat out refusing like last time. I didn’t need to coax her into doing it.

“C’mon, I have every faith in you…” I smiled. She turned around and grabbed on to the first handle and gave it a tug to test its strength.

“It’s safe, I promise, I’ve used it a ton of times…”

“Maybe the ton of times you’ve used it pulled it loose and now it may fall out from overuse.”

I laughed again and watched her take the first little wooden-groove up, shifting her weight onto the handles.

“Well, then I’ll catch you if you fall… or you’ll fall on top of me and I’ll break your fall,” I joked, remembering our similar argument on the roof.

“Yeah, the latter is more likely,” she replied wryly as she found her footing. I knew she secretly enjoyed the idea of climbing her way to the top or else she would have flatly refused to play nice with me.

“You said this was going to be romantic!” she called down to me when she was a few yards up in the air, as though suddenly remembering my words back in the house.

“Might be!” I called back up to her. “If you play your cards right,” I teased as I began my climp up the tree.

She got to the top of the tree without much trouble, mostly because there were so many climbing aids. I could climb without them, but I wasn’t an idiot, I couldn’t afford to fall out of a tree and break a leg.

Once she got settled on the tree house-like platform, I filled the empty space beside her. “Should have grabbed a blanket,” I remarked.

“It’s alright,” she replied.

She folded her legs as she always seemed to. I stretched mine out and let them dangle over the platform freely. I loved the feeling of almost nothingness beneath me. Malania on the other hand, probably felt the absolute opposite.

I took her hand in mine and laced our fingers together. In the dim lights from the tree, I could see the light scarring on her inner wrists that used to be covered up with bracelets and a watch, but that she hadn’t worn due to the strict rules at the treatment centre.

“So…,” I licked my lips, “before we get to any of the romantic stuff,” I began, hoping not to upset her, but knowing I needed to get it all out of the way, “I need to tell you some things…”

“Okay?” she locked eyes with me for a moment and looked apprehensive. She knew she was about to hear something that was going to upset her. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe…” I replied honestly. “You know earlier,” I began, “you told me you were upset because Kaito didn’t entirely take you seriously when you called last night?”

She nodded.

“It wasn’t that he didn’t take you seriously, it’s that we were speaking with my attorney about some of the things the press have been saying about you and your family,” I admitted, “and I feel incredibly responsible for it all.”

“What, that I was in the hospital?” she asked.

“They know why you were in the hospital,” I stated bluntly.  I knew there was no other way to tell her. I needed to just stop trying to shield her because she was going to find out eventually. How she dealt with it, was anyone’s guess, but it was my hope that she would be able to breathe through it all.

“What?” she asked with a bit of a laugh, “are you serious? They know I have been cutting?”

“And the suicide attempts…And about your brother…”

I saw the colour drain from her face. “What do they know about him?” she knew instantly we were not talking about Kaito. Her hand gripped my shoulder, digging in to me for information.

I could feel her trembling instantly beside me. I calmly grabbed for her hand that I was afraid would permanently scar me if she held me any tighter.

“They know that there was a history of abuse and that he passed away. I think the press has managed to do some digging and linked the two. Have you told anyone about the abuse save for the people at the treatment centre and your psychologist?”

“No. Raia you and …” I paused and remembered Cassie. “Maybe one nurse knows. Do they share that kind of information between medical professionals?” she asked in a tone that didn’t reflect the trembling and instant shortness of breath. She sounded calm.

“I’m not sure… maybe. They also have a copy of a letter I gave you. This is how we guessed its come from Willow Blue and the reason why we all decided it was right to come and get you.”

Malania’s parents were adamant that she had shown someone the letters that I gave her or even given one to someone to read. They didn’t understand why I would find that an incredible breach of trust between she and I.

What?” I was glad for her response because it allowed me to know instantly that she hadn’t shared it with anyone. “How? Someone must have stolen it from my journal, what did it say? Holy God… Michael…”

“It was from the week before last. I asked you about Samuel and how you were feeling. I’ll show you when we get back inside…”

She was trembling violently beside me, making me realise that she wasn’t handling this well.

“I’m really sorry.” I had been telling her all the facts free of emotion and of apology.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not… I realise I’m entirely problematic in your life. I’m really sorry for that. I even considered last night if in this situation, given your circumstances, if you and I, being together –“ I paused, not wanting to say the words out loud.

“Don’t…” she murmured, “I don’t need you to doubt this, I do enough doubting for the two of us.”

I had to admit, hearing her say that she doubted things, well… it hurt a little.

“I don’t want to cause all this panic and drama, it’s not just you… it’s your family too.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Michael,” she exclaimed loudly and with frustration. Her voice carried a distance and almost echoed. “You just told me that everyone knows that my brother fucking raped me and then you’re following it up with an idea that you need to walk away from my life? Not a fucking chance!”

She was so worked up. I couldn’t say I expected the angry reaction I was getting, but I did expect a reaction.

“Don’t yell at me…” I told her quietly. “I’m just trying to share my thoughts with you.”

“Well don’t say stupid things!” she scolded me.

I couldn’t help but to just laugh. If it was out of frustration, pure tension relief, I didn’t know, but it came naturally to just laugh at her admonishing me.

“I’m sorry,” I apologised when I realised she was in no mood for my kidding about – understandable given the news I’d just delivered to her.

“I need to get down out of this stupid tree—“ she told me, getting up without giving me a chance to respond.

She was already climbing down shakily as I called out to her. I climbed out the other side, not bothering to use the handles or the climbing aids. I managed to get down to the ground before she did, letting myself fall a few feet from the last sturdy branch that I had let myself swing from.

I dusted off my rough palms and waited for her.

She seemed surprised to see me already. “Don’t run away, just talk to me…”

“I’m not running away. I can’t believe you made me climb a fucking tree and pretended we were going to be doing something romantic and then dropped that on me…”

I winced. “That wasn’t intentional… I just couldn’t keep up a charade. Imagine me holding this in and not telling you and then you finding out?”

“Well at least now I know how Peyton knew what Samuel did to me,” she muttered, crossing her arms across her chest. I watched her eyes fill with tears and I decided not to try to make things better – I couldn’t. She had just received yet more awful news; nothing I could say would make her feel better. She probably just needed time to process it now.

“Come on,” I said gently, get in, we’ll go back to the house… I’ll give you some space.”

She didn’t say a word. She got back in to the golf cart. I drove us back to the house and I watched her grab her bags and disappear into her brand new guestroom. She closed the door after mumbling a goodnight to me.

 

I was scared that her option would be to turn to cutting, really scared. My stomach hurt thinking about the fact that this was her first night out of the centre and she was already facing more challenges. Still, I knew I had to trust her.

Chapter 50 by SkyWriter

Chapter 50

It was no wonder Michael had warned me from the onset to never trust a soul. It seemed isolating and awful to have to live a life without trusting others, but clearly someone in my life had been bought off.

Malania,

I miss you so very much. I hate that I haven’t been able to lay eyes upon your beautiful face for weeks now. It seems so unfair, but everyone is right, it is in your best interest to focus completely on recovery.

Your last note said that Samuel’s death was almost a cathartic release for you. I found that to be an interesting thing to say; have you shared it with Raia? I am glad that you are starting to feel something about his death; something is better than numb. From my experience, sweetheart, anything is better than numb.

When I found out about C and the allegations, it took me a little while to feel the heartbreak. At first I felt shocked and then the numbness set in and it didn’t dissipate for a while. I remember Liz coming to be by my side and when I finally let myself feel it, I went in to a rage and trashed some things in my room. I broke things, I yelled and screamed and finally I crumpled and cried.

And now I’m dealing with it as best as I can.

It’s my hope that you’ll get to that same resolve eventually when you think of your brother and all of the awful things that he did.

I know you’ve felt frustration with me and felt as though I’m at times defending your parents’ emotions.  I’ll bet that in a way it feels like I’m excusing Samuel’s actions, but I’m not. I want you to know that I’m not unsympathetic nor am I unphased by the things that you’ve shared, but sometimes I want to be the same calming force in your life as you are within mine.

When we had that blow up a week back, you said you felt like it seemed that I didn’t care what happened to you even though you know it’s not the case. I think I need to clear that up. When you finally told me your secret, I was filled with my own internal rage over it all. I still rage over it, sweetheart. If I start thinking about it too deeply, I start to go quietly insane because of how much I love you. In the same way I start feeling all kinds of regret and heartbreak over what happened to CH … and even worse, on my watch.

I hope you’ll always remind yourself of how much I care when you’re feeling frustrated with things.

Anyway, over here I’ve just been working on some songs. I can’t wait for you to hear some of them. I can’t wait to show you my world properly. I have all these dreams of you coming and hanging out with me at the studio while I’m recording, keeping me company while I’m composing, traveling with me when I decide to tour again.

I want to watch you paint, to be your biggest fan in everything that you do the way you have always cheered me on.

Shit, I really miss you.

I have an appointment with Greg tonight and then I’m going to be giving evidence later in the month. I’ll obviously fill you in more as the time draws near.

Your brother is bullying me to go for a drive or something. I think he wants to go shopping. He shops more than a woman, its crazy. I will leave this here for now.

I love you and I miss you. Sending you all of my love. Be well, be strong and I’m waiting for you!!

Love, M.

I read and reread his note to me dozens of times over. I watched a couple of news reports and felt physically sick.

People could be bought, regardless of who they were and how badly I wanted to trust them.

Michael was right.

Trust no one.

I got up from the bed and wiped my eyes. I changed in to my pyjamas and pulled back the comforter, ready for bed and wondering if I would even be able to sleep.

Did I want to self-harm? Sure.

Was I going to?

Not a fucking chance. Not after my life had been dragged through the world’s media for everyone to dissect beneath a microscope like they think they knew me and as though they could tell if I was good for Michael’s fucking case.

My personal business aside, I was glad the newspaper published a copy of the letter he wrote me. I felt like it showed that he was a good person who genuinely loved me. It would look more favourable to his case.

Interrupting my thoughts was a soft rasp on my door.

“Yeah?” I called from behind it. Kaito had tried three times to come and speak to me, but I wasn’t in the mood. I really did want to be alone.

“It’s just me,” I heard Michael’s voice call. “I’m leaving some tea on this little table outside of your door if you’d like it, it’s English-style. I made it the way you like it…” he added.

I almost burst in to tears at his thoughtfulness, but I managed to get a grip on myself.

It was almost 1 in the morning. He could obviously tell I was still awake from the light escaping in to the hallway from under my bedroom door.

I pulled my grey college sweater over my white tank and opened the door, pulling it inward.

“Thanks, Michael…” I appreciated him so much. He was so good to me, even when I was being a horror to deal with.

The wall table between my room and his was barely big enough to fit a vase on, but he had managed to squeeze a small cup of tea with the teabag still inside it.

I smiled. I wondered when he’d learned to make a cup of tea. The first time I’d stayed at his house, I’d had to make my own because he had no idea how to even boil water. I thought he’d been playing dumb with me, but he was genuinely serious about it.

“Who taught you to make tea?” I asked him with a little smile.

His serious expression melted in to a smile back at me. He wore his pyjamas, too. Blue and white striped pants with a t-shirt that looked similar to the white one I’d been wearing earlier.

“I learned for you…” he replied. He took a step back toward me and lifted the teacup to hand to me. “Are you feeling okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah… just needed to clear my head.”

I saw his eyes avert to my arms almost as if he was looking to see if I’d cut. My sleeves impeded his view of my wrists, so I lifted them and showed him my clean, healed skin. “I’m okay,” I said again, “I promise.”

“I believed you… I didn’t accuse you of anything.”

“I know… but I have a sketchy track record, so of course you’re going to be expecting me to do stupid things,” I replied. Our hallway conversation was growing a little uncomfortable.

I took the tea from him. “Are you off to bed?”

He nodded, “unless you want to talk or hang out for a bit?”

I debated whether or not I wanted to. I knew my brother would probably get up early and then our opportunity for alone time would be long gone.

“Okay,” I agreed. “Is Kaito in bed?”

He nodded. He gestured next door to his room and I figured we were going to hang out in there. It was nice to not have to be concerned for the watchdog that was my brother.

I wasn’t sure if he’d even care that Michael and I were alone in his room, or if he thought that Michael and I were sleeping together, he’d get angry about it.

Once in Michael’s room, I noticed a cup of tea on his own nightstand. Well, actually there were quite a few cups; it was hard to tell at first which one he was drinking from. I gave a little shake of my head. “Michael, this is gross…” I remarked.

He glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, trying to figure out the source of my disgust. “You should take some of these cups out and wash them. They look like they’ve been here for a month of Sundays,” I remarked.

He chuckled sheepishly. “I know, I know… I will tomorrow, I promise.” I put my teacup down and began stacking them to make some room for my own and the one that he was currently drinking from.

“Don’t….” he said, “I’ll fix them, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry to me,” I managed to laugh too, “it won’t be affecting me when rats come to hang out with you in your bed.”

He gave a shrug, “I’ll just put them with the rest of my pet rats…” he replied smartly. I would have laughed if he was joking, but he wasn’t. My boyfriend was a friggin’ friend of most of the animals… Except dogs, he had shared that he wasn’t a huge fan of dogs.

“I’m sorry about before…” I decided to apologise quietly. “I just needed to be alone to think.”

“That’s okay, I understand,” he replied, sitting on the edge of his bed. I took a seat beside him. It was a bit uncomfortable. I looked around his room and found that it was reasonably clean.

There was always a lot of clutter in Michael’s living space, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been the last time I’d come over. His room at Neverland was ridiculous. It was more like a living space than a bedroom.

A lot of the rooms in the house were large and spacious, but this was incredible. The bathroom was behind two large bi-fold doors. One of them was pushed open and I could see a large tub and a huge vanity. I imagined that the shower recess was on the other side behind the door that was closed.

And back up near our end was a full lounge suite by a beautiful large bay window that looked out over Neverland. He had a ridiculous sized walk-in wardrobe that matched the size of the butler’s pantry in the kitchen that I’d once checked out with wide eyes.

My Mom would have had a field day with this home.

I held my teacup in my hands and stared in to the tea, looking for something to share with him without feeling stupid.

“I never did ask,” he began, “what actually happened last night?”

It had been such a long day, I was unsure if I wanted to even get in to it now that I’d calmed down. “Peyton,” I breathed in, “she’s the one who had been giving me a hard time. She had these meltdowns every night during dinner because she had a eating disorder and I think her behaviour distracted the nurses who were in charge of trying to get her to eat…”

“Uhuh…” Michael listened attentively. I took a sip of my tea.

“Julia and I were sitting close to her and were having a completely unrelated conversation and I laughed at something she said and Peyton must have thought it was about her because she went insane. She came at me, got in my face and called me Mrs. Jackson, I don’t know,” I shrugged, “it kind of happened fast. I warned her to get the fuck out of my face and then she told me I was going to react exactly as I did when my brother was busy raping me; by doing nothing.”

I couldn’t look him in the eyes. In most ways I was glad I didn’t have to hold on to my secret or hold back my feelings in front of him anymore, but it was still awful to have to say the words and for them to actually be true.

I heard him swallow. “What did you do?” he wondered. He put an arm around me, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly.

I smiled wryly and shrugged. “What was I supposed to do?” I asked, “I had my very own meltdown, I had a panic attack and sat with my nurse and demanded to call Kaito and here we are.”

“I’m sorry that happened, my heart…” he said holding on to his cup. “that must have been so awful for you…”

“A nurse came and sat with me and she kinda figure-“ I stopped, “Uh… one nurse knew about you and I…” I told him as if I may have had a suspicion as to who was responsible for selling me out.

“What do you mean?”

I thought for a moment, “I trusted one nurse…” I looked up at him and felt incredibly disappointed in myself. “I know this sounds dumb…” I spoke a little faster, feeling my emotions getting the better of me. “But, I felt like she was my friend.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it might not have actually been her…”

“I bet it was…” I said quietly. “I told her that I was dating you… and previous to that, she would sit in with Julia and I when we were painting and Julia constantly asked questions about what it was like to have a boyfriend…”

I saw Michael briefly smile. “She really looked up to you…”

I sighed, “Clair… she never said a lot, she just listened and I talked about you, gushed about you…” I corrected myself, “and one night we were having a chat late at night and I just told her… and she knew about Samuel because of all my night terrors. I never explicitly told her, but if she was looking in my journal, then she could have figured it out – how else did they get that letter you wrote me?”

He could obviously see that I was upset and distressed by the idea that someone who I not only liked, but trusted had completely betrayed me.

“Malania, we don’t know that it was her… but, if it was, then I’m sincerely sorry,” he apologised in a heartfelt way. I knew why, it was because he felt that he was responsible for it.

I am sure it was a lesson he had to learn over and over again.

“How can you ever trust anyone?” I asked him, suddenly realising why, at times Michael seemed absolutely paranoid of people finding out information.

He studied me for a moment and gave me a sympathetic look before shrugging. “You just… take your chances…”

“Like you did with me…?” I pressed.

“No,” he said, shaking his head and producing a sweet smile that spread its way pretty quickly across his gorgeous face, “I was well aware that I could trust you, my biggest fans have always been my greatest allies, and I felt pretty comfortable with you not telling anyone anything when we first started hanging out.”

I felt happy about that. I smiled briefly back at him, but I was still troubled by the idea that someone could lose their professionalism. “How do we proceed? Can we follow up with the suspicions about Clair?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’ll get Greg on it… in the meantime, I need you to completely focus on being well… just attending therapy, settling back in and all of that…”

“And us,” I added with a smile. He was pretty on point when told me Neverland had worked out to be the best place for him. He could do everything he wanted without having to worry about security or people staring. While I was here I’d be able to block everything out without the world peering in at us through a fishbowl.

“And us,” he confirmed.

I drew in a deep breath and sighed. I’d had a history with trying to just block things out and pretend they weren’t happening. I was glad I was actually talking with him about the way I felt, but I was done for the moment. I just wanted to relax. I didn’t want to be constantly in a state of thought.

 “Sorry about the way I told you earlier, I probably should have prepared you better…”

“Can we just hang out?” I asked, “I mean, I just got out of that awful place, I haven’t seen you for almost a month and I’m done talking about the shit actions of everyone else…”

Michael gave a little bit of a chuckle, I knew it wasn’t at my expense, but rather just the situation. “Alright… do you want to go and get something to eat from the kitchen? Your Mom keeps sending Kaito and I packages of cookies and slices.”

I laughed, “my typical Mama… I’ll give her a call tomorrow.” I really missed my parents and I missed my Mama’s cooking like crazy.

“I could totally smash some food right now,” I agreed. I hadn’t really eaten a lot of my dinner.

We both got up and took our tea upstairs for a midnight snack.

**

“Come on, don’t be lazyyyy!” Kaito berated me, trying to pull me out of bed at 6 in the morning.

“Firstly, a lot has changed since we lived in a house together – you don’t barge in to a woman’s room and wake her up,” I told him with annoyance as I shielded my eyes from the daylight that was blasting through the doorway and blinding me.

“What if I was naked!”

“Well you’re not, thank God,” Kaito replied.

“What if Michael and I were in here having private time?”

“Well then I’d kill him,” he shot back answering the question I’d been wondering about the night before.

“You’re going to kill a man in his own home who is kindly letting you camp here for … goodness knows what reason…” I confirmed, “real nice.” I flipped myself over on to my chest and buried my head in to my pillow.

“Buzz off, Kaito, I’m not getting up to go to the gym with you.” I told him resolutely.

I had to give him props for his persistence though. I felt a weight at the end of my bed and realised he had plonked himself down. “Don’t you want to spend some time together?” he asked in a more subdued tone that wasn’t as motivated and upbeat as he had sounded a few seconds ago.

“Not at 6 in the morning,” I yawned.

I heard footsteps and lifted my head to see Michael standing in the doorway in his pajama pants and t shirt looking hot and sleepy. “What’s going on?” he asked amused.

“Michael, get dressed and go to the gym with Kaito… and see yourselves out.” I mumbled.

“Fat chance,” Michael scoffed and disappeared back into his own room.

“You lazy bastards!” Kaito exploded with exasperation. “Malania, don’t you remember how much you used to love running?”

I gave up. I knew he wasn’t going to give up first. I sat up and smoothed down my bed hair. I squinted at him, trying to adjust my eyes to the light. “Kaito, I liked running in elementary school and then I got boobs and I didn’t like running anymore.”

My remark made him blush slightly, but it didn’t deter him or make him feel as uncomfortable as I had hoped. “Maybe you should have better chest support,” he couldn’t help but to mutter.

I finally laughed at him. “Okay, okay, fine… I’ll come down to the gym with you and I’ll watch you work out.”

“You can jog on the treadmill.”

“Nope,” I replied, “no deal.” I flopped back down in to bed.

“Okay, a walk at a moderate pace,” he bargained.

I had no idea what his obsession was with the gym, but I threw back the covers knowing I wasn’t going to get any peace. “Okay, give me ten minutes… sheesh.”

**

Kaito promised he’d wait for me outside. I got changed quickly in to some sweat pants and tied my hair back. I knocked lightly on Michael’s bedroom door.

I heard him call out for me to come in. He was in bed buried some place beneath the covers.

“Its just me…” I murmured.

“Come in, come in…” I closed the door behind me and made my way over to his bed. He pulled the covers back as if he expected me to climb right in beside him.

“Can’t stay…” I muttered resentfully, “I agreed to go to the gym.”

I heard Michael chuckle a soft throaty laugh. It made me want to just crawl right beside him and cuddle up all morning, but I had agreed to something else.

I almost sighed. I took a seat on the edge of the bed, barely being able to make him out since it was so pitch dark. “I just wanted to tell you good morning,” I informed him.

He reached up his arms and I obliged him with a lingering cuddle. It would have just been so easy to curl right there beside him, but I ripped myself away and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit… providing he doesn’t make me do some crazy exercising.”

Michael laughed again, “You’re a good sister. He has been harassing me for weeks to work out with him.”

“Great, he’s going to turn me in to iron woman,” I remarked cynically.

“Well, so long… have fun…” Michael waved me off with a little snicker. I reluctantly let myself out of his room and met my brother outside in the freezing, crisp morning air.

He tried to galvanize me getting me to race him to the gym.

He won.

**

“Mal, pass me that weight, will you?” Kaito pointed to a plate resting against a rack at the head of the bench press, where I was perched.

He was super serious about exercise. I couldn’t help but to be surprised that my brother was absolutely ripped. He’d mostly been wearing long sleeved shirts or hoodies, but now he stood before a mirror lifting weights with his muscles bulging through his white wife beater.

I picked up the plate that felt much heavier than the 25lbs engraved into its side. I handed it over to him with two hands. I watched him fasten one to each end of the barbell.

“Seriously, can’t I just go back to bed?” I asked.

“No…” he said, seriously as he squatted down with his feet hip-width, bar on the floor in front of him, and gripped it wide before rising up into a deadlift. I laid myself back on the bench press and closed my eyes with a sigh. “I wanted to talk to you…”

“Okay, so talk…” I commanded. “And you have about five minutes to get to the point or else I’m leaving.”

He lifted silent, apart from a few grunts of exertion, for a few moments until I heard the heavy sound of the plates hitting the floor.  I opened my eyes to find him rolling a movable bench towards me. It was weird how the gym seemed akin to something that could make Michael some money, yet none of it had been used til Kaito came on the scene.

“You know, I’m genuinely pleased that you’ve ended up with someone like Michael,” he told me, “he is one of the nicest guys I’ve ever come across and we’ve actually become really good friends these past few weeks.”

“I know, I can tell.” I replied, slowly sitting up. I yawned.

In some ways, I was truly pleased they got along so well, but there was a small part of me that wished he could have got to know Michael when he and my relationship had had the chance to bloom a little first.

“At the end of the day though, Michael is still a man and he’s a lot older than you and a lot more worldly than you… You’re really fragile, still… and you’re my baby sister so-“

My brother looked at me with seriousness and I couldn’t help to feel a breeze of annoyance hit me. I hated that everyone felt as though I was going to break. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and stared at him for a moment.

Am I fragile, though?” I asked smartly. “I mean, call me crazy, but I’d like to think that I’m a strong, smart, young woman who is old enough to start making some independent decisions in life.”

He frowned and looked down to his suspiciously white sneakers.

“Well… you know what I mean…” he corrected himself. “You’re my baby sister, I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you, and I want to protect you.”

“Trust me,” I began, “I don’t need protection from Michael; I can make all of my own decisions.”

Kaito ran his fingers through his hair. “Mal, it’s just really early days in the relationship… I don’t want to see you make any bad decisions.”

I narrowed my eyes, “I’m confused, are we talking about sex here, Kaito?” I asked him bluntly. “Because I’m not a virgin,” I told him feeling a little apprehensive, “you don’t have to worry.”

He sighed. I knew I was frustrating him and I realised that he was only trying to be my big brother, but I wasn’t used to someone looking out for me and I wasn’t entirely used to feeling so strong within myself or being able to convey my feelings properly, but I found that therapy had definitely helped me pave that skill for me over the later stay in the treatment centre.

“Malania,” he growled with a slight loss of temper, “don’t be difficult and don’t get defensive when I’m trying to look out for you. Don’t try to shut me down by saying stupid things that you think will make me give up. I am not giving up.”

I felt slightly guilty. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re so worried about. You didn’t answer my question, are you referring to sex?”

“Not entirely,” he muttered.

“Well, if you are, just know that’s my business. Michael is not a billion years older than me, it’s just a few years and I am smart enough to make good choices, so forget it.”

“Okay,” he said simply. “Forget it then…”

I figured he was a little bit hurt, but what the hell was I supposed to do? Vow not to have a private viewing of Michael’s penis at a later date?

“Kaito, I appreciate you looking out for me,” I added, “I’m glad you’re back from England and you’re home with us… there’s no one else I’d rather have by my side.”

He finally smiled, his frustrated expression melted away with it. “Thanks, Mal, it was definitely the right choice.”

“I’m excited about having our own place too… even if I do love it here.”

“Yeah, I’ll take you to see it soon, I just don’t want to chance anyone giving you a hard time or following us anywhere. Michael suggested we wait til things die down a bit.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Is it putting you out to buying a whole new house just so I can live close?” I asked him curiously. I wondered if I had put a financial strain on anyone. I knew my parents had faced a hefty bill due to my hospital stay that Michael had ended up footing for me.

“No…” he said. “Michael helped me get a good deal.”

“I know, but… the place looked expensive. I don’t want you to go beyond your means, Kaito, you’re too young to get yourself in to debt just for me.”

He shook his head. “Mal, can I tell you something that doesn’t leave these walls?”

I nodded. “I made a lot of money in England. I followed Dad’s advice and bought my own flat,” he explained, “I made almost two million dollars while I was there. The airline paid for all of my rent and so I put all of those savings in to some low risk markets, on top of that and when I wanted to move, the flat was prime location and had increased in value in the real estate boom… so, I walked out really well off.”

I was surprised but not really overly shocked. My family had been very well off until Samuel happened. My Dad was an incredible investor plus he had a very lucrative job as a pilot when I was a child, but retired and ended up becoming a vice president of the service development.

Kaito was the perfect protégé.

“Maybe I should get a job in the aviation business,” I joked.

“You could, I could totally help you get started… it’s a great job,” he promised me as if my remark had any merit to it.

“No offense, but planes are your and Papa’s thing, I’m not all that interested. I need to figure out what kind of things an artist can do to make a viable living and then I’ll start doing that.” I replied.

Kaito thought for a moment, “your art is amazing, Mal, you could make money from it.”

I shrugged. Art was a love job, perhaps when I studied it, I was way more idealistic and saw myself living in Monmarte on the outskirts of Paris as some kind of Bohemian artist who sold her original art to both tourists and locals and made ends meet.

Ridiculous in hindsight.

My parents had been right, art was a stupid degree. What could I do with that degree? Teach classes at a community college? Curate a sub-par gallery that looked like a ghost town during the week?

I gave a sigh at my own private and bitter resolve.

“Don’t worry, Mal, you have time to figure it out…” he told me as if he were reading my mind.

“Can I go back to bed now?” I asked him. I had enough of heart-to-heart for the morning.

“Only if you get on the treadmill and show me that you are still capable of physical activity. One minute jog, come on…”

I hauled my ass off the bench press and made my way to the treadmill without an argument. Getting my body ready for someone to see it naked probably wasn’t a bad idea, I thought, fleetingly.

“Nice…” Kaito smiled with an encouraging nod.

I let him show me how the buttons worked. I wasn’t used to working with fancy equipment. It had been a long time since I’d been on a run to let off some steam. Even Raia had suggested physical exercise to help deal with stress.

I immediately regretted it as the belt began to rotate faster and faster and my chest began to burst for air.

I glared at my brother who watched me gleefully. I had never hated him more.

Chapter 51 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

meeting the family! will Katherine like Malania? My guess is, no one has ever been good enough for her son! hahaha. As usual thoughts and reviews are welcomed. 
I have written so many chapters of this story before I started posting here -- but I'm up to my last few. I'm just finished chapter 56, so.... please keep reading and be patient with me. Tossing up a lot on my plate. :) 

Chapter 51

Malania seemed a bit happier; she had been spending a little more time on her own, getting used to the feeling of being independent again. I tried hard not to worry about her or take it personal that she didn’t want to spend every waking hour with me, but I had to remind myself that technically, we shouldn’t have been living together.

It was a giant temptation as well as it was confronting for her, having never previously lived with a guy she liked.

Kaito had gone back home to gather some of their belongings, thankfully leaving us alone so that we could hang out without a chaperone.

I was in the business of trying to hire myself some staff who I felt could be trusted and brought into the fold and help rebuild my life.  I knew this was an important in helping me stay distracted and increase my confidence that things would continue going smoothly for my case.

I decided not to bother Malania and left her to her own devices after she’d come back from the gym.  I just let her know that I was going to be upstairs in my office, busying myself with a few phone calls, if she wanted to come hang out at any point.

I’d just got done securing myself a new publicist and I was going to call a friend to find a new, loyal, manager – but I was hesitant. I didn’t want to call anyone who hadn’t called me to loan their support; I was concerned of what they might think of me. So many had disappeared from my life that I now felt like I had few contacts to reach out to.

What I was most concerned with after everything that had happened was whether or not someone was going to be outright awful to me.

I chewed on that thought for a few moments when I heard footsteps. “Michael?” I heard Malania calling.

“In here…” I called back.

A few seconds later the door opened wider and she came into view. I couldn’t help but to grin.

I always loved what she looked like, but today she looked especially beautiful.

She had her hair pulled back entirely off of her face. It’d been awhile since I’d seen her with sleek and kempt hair. It reminded me of the day she came to my arraignment and her hair had been pulled back, leaving absolutely nothing to distract from her gorgeous features.

She wore the same pair of jeans from the night before, and a Ramone’s shirt she had wore while hanging out with me a few months earlier.

She looked like the breath of fresh air that I so badly needed.

“Hey baby, you look … gorgeous,” I remarked as I boldly gave her the once over.

She smiled coyly, showing her dimple that always drove me nuts. “Are you busy?” she asked, avoiding my compliments.

“Never too busy for you,” I replied, “come in…” I motioned her forward. She slowly made her way over toward me and took a seat in a chair that was situated beside mine. I pulled it toward me, the wheels easily giving in as it glided over the hardwood floor.

She chuckled at my eagerness to be closer to her.

I reached over and took her face in my hands gently. Her skin was warm and I could see that her hair was still damp from the shower. I kissed her lips softly. “Did I tell you how happy I am to have you here with me?” I asked her, “because, for real, I am…”

“Me too,” she replied in a soft tone, averting her eyes from mine before flicking them back up to meet my gaze. She did this often; it was a self-conscious habit of hers that I’d come to recognize.

I kissed her again, a bit slower, more lingeringly. When I opened my eyes, I noticed hers remained closed just that little bit longer than mine.

“Did you want to do anything today?” I asked her as I continued to sweep my gaze over her, caressing her hair and letting one of my hands fall in to hers.

She shrugged. “Enjoy some alone time with you?”

“I like that idea…” I agreed, closing in for a third kiss. Just as our lips pressed together I heard the buzz of the security phone located beside my regular phone.  I had a few of them located in different spots around the house.

 “Sorry…” I chuckled, pulling away, annoyed at having been interrupted again. “Surely that can’t be your brother, unless he’s stopped driving like an old man, it’s unlikely he’s even at Fountain Valley, yet.”

“Knowing him, he’s probably come back thinking that we’re in your bed or something,” she muttered resentfully.

I frowned, wondering what that was about. I picked up the receiver, thinking that I’d revisit that conversation after I hung up. Still, my heart beat a little faster at the idea that she thought that could be an option. “Hello?”

“Mr. Jackson,” I recognized the voice of Alfred, from the security gate. “You have company, your mother has just arrived.”

I could have groaned out loud, but I chose to not act like a spoiled brat. “Okay, thanks for letting me know, please let her in.”

Malania glanced at me a little spooked by the idea of company.

“Sorry about this…” I apologised looking in to her eyes, “Mother’s just arrived.”

“Oh shit,” Malania remarked, “I’ll go hang out in my room while you both visit… she doesn’t even have to know I’m here.”

I laughed at her panic. “Sweetheart, the whole world may as well know you’re here. Mother isn’t going to care…”

“But still…”

“But nothing, don’t be silly, I’ve met your parents, you can properly meet my Mother under better circumstances than awkwardly standing around outside of a courthouse.”

She knew she couldn’t protest any longer. Mother would be kind to Malania; I knew it. Mother had a heart of gold and was especially supportive of anyone who supported me.

I took her hand, “come on…” I led her downstairs. She was really dragging her heels nervously and I could feel her hand getting clammy, I didn’t understand why; she hadn’t seemed that fazed upon her first meeting with my family.

“What are you nervous about?” I asked Malania bluntly as we stood behind the confines of the large oak door.  Noticing that she was turning into herself, I insistently spun her so that we stood face-to-face.

“At the arraignment, it was sombre, no one knew my business, Michael… now I have to face your mother who no-doubt knows everything about me,” she winced, her eyes looking absolutely panicked.

Sometimes living in a bubble made me lose grasp on reality. Sometimes I would forget that there was another world spinning on its axis outside of Neverland. While I was aware of what was making news, I seemed to forget that that very same news extended to family and friends.

“Oh,” I murmured, suddenly realising she was right. I remembered how I’d felt walking through the corridors from my hotel suite to the car that awaited me when the charges had originally been brought against me back in Mexico. I had been so panicked by what others might think of me, of them trying to imagine me doing the things that I’d been accused of.

I supposed the difference was that Malania’s reported experience was true.  Hers was a shame that she couldn’t refute.

“I’m sorry,” I added, “do you want to go hang out on your own for awhile?” I asked. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

She didn’t have the chance to respond before the front door opened. I felt  Malania go rigid.

Mother went to call out to me before she turned her head slightly, realising that both Mal and I were standing right in front of her.

“Hi Mom,” I put on a practiced smile, my stomach plummeting at the realization that I was once again putting Mal in an uncomfortable position.

She smiled back at me. I let go of Malania’s hand and helped Mother inside chivalrously. I felt bad that I hadn’t met her at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m fine, Michael, I’m fine…” she waved me off as she noticed Malania standing stiffly. “Well hello, Malania isn’t it?” she asked almost gingerly and then looked back to me with a look that seemed almost teasing.

I couldn’t help but to smirk to myself. It was Mother’s non-verbal speak for, “OoOooooh what did I just walk in on?”

“Yeah…” Malania tried her best to smile, but it seemed tense and forced. “Nice to see you again Mrs. Jackson.”

Mother leaned forward and hugged her. Malania hadn’t been ready for it, but she never the less obliged. She stared at me over Mother’s shoulder, looking absolutely horrified.

When she released her grip on my girlfriend, Mother turned and embraced me warmly, rubbing my back in that comforting way only mothers can. It was my turn to smile shyly at Malania, apologising with my eyes.

“I didn’t know you were here,” she said to my girlfriend who seemed to have frozen. Mother finally smiled when Malania didn’t really respond. “I didn’t mean to barge in during your time together.”

“No, its fine,” Malania finally spoke. “I can give you guys some time to chat,” she said quickly, not giving us either a chance to respond before she made an incredibly fast getaway, leaving Mother staring at me, stunned and looking as though she didn’t know how to take that.

“Michael…?” Mother pressed me.

I shook my head, “come on, Mother… come in to the family room,” I put a hand on the shoulder of her blue dress and guided her through the foyer to the large open living area.

“Sorry about that,” I apologised to her when I knew Malania was out of earshot. Mom took a seat on the couch; “things are a bit rough at the moment.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I see it’s true, Malania left the treatment facility,” she remarked. “She looks very healthy.”

I could only assume that my mother had heard all about my girlfriend through the media because whenever the subject came up over the phone, I just told her that I’d talk about it when I was ready.

I guessed that there was no time like the present.

“Yeah…” I nodded.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” she asked me in that gentle tone she always used that seemed to bring me great comfort.

I eased myself down beside her and rested my head back on the couch. “Not really, but… I guess I should tell you before you get blindsided.”

“Too late for that…” she muttered. “This morning I got a phone call asking if I would comment on the reports of my future daughter-in-law’s mental health…”

I groaned. “I’m sorry, Mother…” I apologised.

Mom touched my arm. “Sweetheart, don’t say sorry… I just, I am concerned with what’s going on with you.  You haven’t told me anything about the case, the media is blowing up about this friend or girlfriend… and my own son won’t tell me anything.”

I looked up, wondering if Malania was around. “Malania and I met a long time ago Mother, maybe about 4 or so years ago-“ I tried to think, “and then she and I met again in Mexico the night that I found out about the allegations and she was the only one who-”

“What about your family Michael, you’ve completely shut us all out.” I gave my mother a raised eyebrow as if to tell her exactly what I thought of the so-called ‘family support’.

“Please let me finish—“ I added, “she was the only one besides you and Liz that genuinely cared for me.”

“Your father genuinely cares for you, Michael, he just doesn’t know the right way to show it.”

I didn’t really want to be getting in to that.

“Anyway…” I changed the subject pointedly, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “Malania and I have grown closer—we’re both going through hard times…”

“So, is she your girlfriend?” my Mom asked me point-blank.

I hesitated for a second but then wondered why I was so reluctant to share that news with her. “Yeah… I guess that’s what we’d call it if we have to put a label on it.”

“Your father thought that this would help your case,” she commented. I knew what she was doing; she was dropping the comment and waiting for me to respond, probably to figure out if I was being just as manipulative as my father.

I was offended that she would even need to question my motives.

“Mother,” I began warningly, keeping my voice low, “Malania is not a girlfriend out of convenience,” I said simply, though my jaw was clenched and I was trying my best not to show how irate I was. “She is my girlfriend because I love her. I’m not like Joseph.”

My mother was never a fan of any of my previous girlfriends, including Diane. She had always been polite, but never engaging. I knew that she was quick to judge them all as calculating and opportunistic. It wasn’t that her intentions were bad; she just tried to protect me.

“Do you think a relationship with someone who is going through so much is what you nee-“ she questioned, hushing her voice until I cut her off.

“Don’t,” I said firmly. Mother looked at me innocently. “Don’t do that. You’ve met her once, you have no idea about her, you do not get to judge her.”

I could feel myself losing my cool slowly but surely.

“I’m not judging her, it is not my place to judge… I was perfectly polite to her, Michael?” she answered me as if it were a question, it was what she did when she was trying to gather more information while still appearing as though she was neutral on the matter.

“You are judging her because you know she’s spent time in a rehabilitation clinic and because of whatever trash you’ve heard on the news. You should know better than anyone not to judge. Given what they make up about me, it’s a miracle that I haven’t been committed yet, so there’s really nothing much that makes me any different from her.”

“Michael, please calm down…” Mother tried to soothe me, realising that I had had enough.

Maybe it wasn’t her fault, but she was certainly the trigger.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Mother,” I told her, “I’m not stupid, I can make my own decisions. Rather than second guessing who I let in to my life, why can’t you just ask me how I’m doing?”

It always angered me that it was one thing after another. They all treated me as though I was a baby, like if they didn’t tread lightly around me, I might break.

No one ever just asked me how I was and truly wanted to know without inserting judgement. There was always someone waiting to say ‘I told you so’, and if they didn’t say it, their unspoken words lingered in the air.

I drew in a deep breath.

“I’m here asking you how you’re doing…” she insisted.

I decided to let it go as I always did. I knew how infinitely my mother loved me and generally it was easier to just leave things unsaid between us, it was the only way I could go about life not hurting her feelings.

Mother was great at being a Mom, she was great at being loving and being physically comforting and inspiring when I was at the lowest point – but she was never so great at understanding my needs and wants and the way my heart loved others. She made it clear that she wanted me married, yet no woman was ever acceptable.

“I can’t only rely on you and only you my whole life. Don’t you think I’m entitled to be in love; for someone to love me and to have someone to share my love with?” I wondered.

“Of course, Michael…that’s all I want for you.”

“Well then just let me worry about my love life. I just need you to accept Malania and not judge her or anything about her…”

“I wasn’t judg-“ she began but she stopped and closed her mouth. “Okay, Michael.”

Mother changed the subject and I was glad that she did, because shortly after that Malania reappeared from the hallway looking as though she had composed herself.

“Hi sweetheart,” I greeted her with a smile, lifting myself from the couch beside Mother.

Malania gave me her best smile; I knew she was trying to brave it out.

My mother looked up to find my girlfriend standing coyly in the middle of the living room.

“Do you want to take a seat? Mother and I were just discussing the trial…” I motioned for her to sit where I had just been.

She shook her head. “No, you sit… I was just wondering whether you would like some tea?” It was a start.

“I’m fine,” I replied.

“Mrs. Jackson?” she asked my mother in her most polite voice. I couldn’t help but to smile. I still couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked with her hair pulled back entirely from her face and held up high on her head.

“No thank you, but I would love for you to come and sit with us,” she replied, glancing at me briefly as if to show me that she was making an effort.

Malania didn’t say a word. She nervously sat in a chair that was a few feet from us. I knew Malania’s insatiable need for tea was because it calmed her.

“I’ll get your tea…” I stood up, wanting to give her a minute with my mother to break the ice. I tried to ignore the pleading look she gave me not to leave her alone. I knew Mother had the good sense to be kind given the earlier conversation.

“Would you like something to drink, Mother?” I asked her.

“No baby, you just get your girlfriend some tea… we will chat.” I couldn’t tell if she was patronising me or not, so I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. I was sure Malania hadn’t picked up on it.

I couldn’t help but to feel nervous as I went to the kitchen.

I flicked the kettle on and fixed a mug with the English Breakfast teabag and retrieved the milk from the fridge. I waited for the whistle. I tried to listen for the conversation, but it was too soft for me to hear.

I wasn’t gone much longer than five minutes, but as I came down the stairs, I could hear Malania laughing, making me relax considerably.

“Thanks, Mike…” she grinned at me, noticing me at the landing of the stairs. I placed the mug on the end table beside the chair she sat at.

“I was just telling Malania about Mercedes and how she’s been redecorating your room at Hayvenhurst to cheer you up when you decide to come and visit next.”

I smiled; I hadn’t seen my niece since the day after I arrived back from Mexico. “Aw, she is so sweet… How is she going?”

“Really well, she is excited about school starting again after the summer…” a subtle reminder, I thought, though I didn’t feel put out.

“Oh yeah,” I nodded, “Sorry, I have had a lot going on, obviously but I’ll contact Lise about it when I think of it.”

I was going to be taking care of my niece’s education as I always did with most of my family. I believed whole-heartedly in education, obviously more than some of my brother’s did, who, if left up to them, would be sending their kids to public schools. Then again, they wouldn’t even consider that their kids would need an education; like they gave a fuck what happened with their own children.

“Don’t be too concerned, Lisa knows you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”

“Lisa is Mercedes’ Mom,” I explained to Malania, “my brother, Randy is her father but he won’t acknowledge it. In fact, he’s met her just once when she was born…”

Malania tried not to react with disgust, not wanting to offend my mother.

“Michael, that’s enough…” Mother silenced me. I couldn’t help but to smirk at my girlfriend as if to prove some kind of point.

“What?” I asked innocently, “I am just explaining the truth?” I replied, widening my eyes. My mother gave me a look that showed me she was disappointed in me.

Mother turned to Malania, “I was just telling Michael how nice it was to see you again since the arraignment. You are looking very well.”

She hadn’t said anything of the sort, but I knew it was her way of quickly changing the subject and trying to take the high road. She was never able to let anyone speak ill of her precious idiot sons, but could question any single one of my personal decisions.

“Thanks,” Malania managed a tight smile. She held the mug in her hands but didn’t sip from it. “It’s nice to see you too…”

“Michael tells me you’re staying here for a little while, are you from California?” she wondered.

Malania nodded. “Yeah, my family lives in Fountain Valley – I don’t know if you know where that is…”

“I do,” Mother smiled warmly, “they must be missing you like crazy…I always miss Michael, living so far out…”

“It’s not that far,” I insisted.

“My parents trust Michael to keep the media away from me right now, so even though they miss me, it’s probably for the best,” she replied, clearing her throat.

I chuckled, “it’s not like she’s hostage, Mother, her parents can come and go from here as they please just like you. Malania’s brother is buying a house between here and his job at San Bernadino and Malania is going to be moving there with him once the sale settles…” I explained.

“Oh right, your brother…” I was sure I saw my Mother’s face sour. She had seen the front page of the newspaper where Kaito had gotten me in to a little bit of trouble.  I had to be honest, on that particular day, I was so glad he had stood up for me. I didn’t care that it got me some bad publicity; maybe it would have prevented at least one person provoking me in the future.

“Yeah, Kaito is Malania’s brother, the guy who stood up for me when that hack was calling me a name.” I replied defensively.

“Well, violence isn’t the answer,” Mother retorted a little cattily.

“I agree,” Malania added even though I knew she didn’t entirely agree. “My brother was out of line and could have got you in trouble. But,” she continued, “he’s otherwise a non-violent, good person…”

Mother just smiled and I knew she wasn’t happy with any of this. I couldn’t help being frustrated by her entire visit.

“So Malania and I were going to go for a drive over to the lake for lunch, would you like to join us?” I asked her. Malania threw me a quizzical glance but didn’t say anything.

I knew there was no way in the world my mother would have dared impose herself upon what sounded like a romantic picnic. I needed to get rid of her before I said something I would regret.

“No thank you, son, I just wanted to see you briefly to make sure that you’re okay since you haven’t been taking my calls.”

Another dig.

“Sorry, I’ll be better, I promise.”

We all got up. Mother and Malania exchanged some superficial pleasantries while I bit my tongue.  I walked Mother out after Malania waved her off and took her empty cup to the kitchen.

“Michael,” Mother began quietly as I helped her into the car that was waiting for her.

“Yes?”

“I am concerned that she’s so young… I don’t want you taking care of her entire family, not again…”

I actually laughed. “Oh?” I laughed again. “So, it’s only enough okay for me to support one financially dependent family?” I asked sarcastically.

I didn’t let her answer. I wanted her to realise what a stupid comment it was. “I love you, Mother, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Before she could respond, I closed the door and turned my back.

**

I closed the heavy door behind me and let my eyes fall shut. My family made me so angry some days.

Even my mother.

I loved her infinitely and she had the kindest heart that taught me everything I knew about showing kindness to others, but sometimes she couldn’t see through her own faults. She was blinded by the stupidity of the rest of my family. She questioned all of my choices in life, yet didn’t bat an eyelid to all the awful and undignified situations my brothers got themselves in to.

Concerned about Malania’s age?

Fuck. That.

“Michael what the hell was that?” Malania asked, surprising my eyes open. She stood before me, looking expectant.

“I’m sorry…” I apologised. “That was a weird way for you to have to meet my Mother properly.”

“I feel like I just stepped out of the Twilight Zone,” she stood before me with the blue mug in both of her hands, standing in the middle of the foyer looking cute as fuck. “I thought you said you and your Mother were close,” she looked more amused than upset or put-off by the whole ordeal.

“We are…” I winced, rubbing the back of my neck a little self-consciously.

“Ah, close like my Mama and I, huh?” she chuckled. I knew what she meant and it was probably more accurate than not.

“Yeah so close you could punch them…” I joked.

Malania laughed and placed her mug down on a coffee table and made her way over to where I was standing, still by the door. I welcomed her thin arms sliding around my waist, making the first move on me.

I let out a sigh and felt my body relax as I reciprocated her embrace. “I’m sorry you had to witness all of that… My Mother just … I dunno…”

“She doesn’t like me, that’s fine,” Malania replied with a shrug.

“Whoa,” I pulled away and looked at her, “My Mother doesn’t know you and when things calm down, she will get to know you and she will love you,” I told her, “just right now she thinks she knows what’s best for me and that’s to keep my head down and fight this case and go on like a robot and only look to her for support.”

She drew me back in and laughed, resting her head against my shoulder. “So, you mentioned something about a drive to the lake… was that something you just said to get rid of your Mother…or?”

I gave her a little squeeze. “You know what the best thing about Neverland is?” I asked her.

“What’s that?” she wondered, drawing away from me. I let my hand fall in to hers.

“It’s that right now save for a couple of workers and my security, we are entirely in private. No one can bother us… we can go to the lake, we can go for a hike, we can do take two and climb the giving tree again…”

“You mean the trauma tree?” she joked. “I am not climbing that again in a hurry.”

I managed to laugh and kissed her cheek. “Well, it’s totally up to you what we do…”

“Let’s do the lake thing, it sounds pretty…” she chose, “and I feel like just forgetting the world and being alone with you.”

“Okay my heart… your wish is my command...” I leaned over and pressed a kiss upon her lips.

Chapter 52 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

One more for good measure. 

Chapter 52

“So,” I began, pushing the spare pair of sunglasses that Michael had loaned me up the bridge of my nose, “what’s the story with your family. We’ve talked so much about you and I and my family, but never really much about yours…”

We sat side by side at the bank of the lake. I twirled a four-leaf clover that Michael had found for me between my fingers.

He looked gorgeous, sitting in the sun with his long-sleeved red shirt and blue jeans. The sun wasn’t very hot, but it felt nice on my skin.

“They’re complicated… I’m used to having to put a happy face on things, so… I find it hard not to talk about them without being diplomatic,” he replied honestly.

I gave him a weak smile. I remembered.

I remembered how during the first night I stayed at Hayvenhurst we had talked briefly about family. He mentioned that family members were speaking on his behalf.  I’d gotten the sense that it had annoyed him when he insisted that they thought they were doing the right thing.

However, I could see from a mile away that they loved the newfound public interest. It was probably the greatest amount of attention any of them had received in a number of years.

“But you’re not in a public platform now, Michael, it’s not like the old days where I’d turn up for a scrap of your time and you’d say all the happy things to make sure I’d think life is sunshine and rainbows for you…” I pointed out.

He laughed. “Did I really do that?” he asked as though it were a surprise to him.

“Yeah, I could totally see through that hogwash,” I informed him, taking the clover and placing it behind my ear with a little smile.

He just laughed and leaned back on his elbows. “Okay, let me see… you want to know some dirt on the great Jackson Family…”

“No,” I said seriously, turning in to face him, leaning back too. “I don’t want the dirt, I’m just asking what the deal is. That whole thing with your Mom earlier was awkward. The tension between the both of you was so thick you needed an axe to cut through it. I felt like a pawn-”

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. We had some cross words before you walked in. Looking back, I guess my track record with life choices is a bit sketchy, so I got mad that she acted like she had the right to question what was going on.”

“She’s questioning your choice with me, isn’t she?” I asked him point-blank. I knew Katherine Jackson didn’t like me as soon as I’d seen her reaction to spotting me with Michael when she first arrived.

Well, maybe it wasn’t dislike, but I am sure that with everything that had leaked, she could have imagined her son with a more stable girlfriend.

“What she is really questioning is whether or not I should be focusing on love rather than something that might send me to jail,” he replied.

“You’re not going to jail,” I flat out replied. “You are not going to jail, you hear me? I don’t even want to hear you entertain the idea.”

He left it at that. He didn’t argue, he didn’t say a word, but I watched him draw in a deep breath and exhale, almost as though the notion of jail time had made it a little hard to breathe.

I reached over for his hand and laid mine in the palm of his. “Michael, I don’t care if your Mom thinks I’m a bad idea. When things smooth out between us and everything that is going on around us, we can start trying to work on our families – right now, I think we need to just focus on us.”

I saw a smile find its way to his lips. “You’re right… And honestly, I don’t really want you to be involved too much in my family.”

Ouch. I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by the comment. “Why?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Am I an embarrassment?”

He actually laughed. “No, quite the contrary. Let’s just say that my brothers have no morals and I wouldn’t trust them alone with you in a room for a single moment.”

“In what sense?” I wondered curiously.

“Just… they’d probably hit on you, make some kind of demeaning remark, I dunno... One time Joseph looked my ex up and down and told me in front of her that she looked ‘damn fine’ in a sleazy way as though she wasn’t even in the room…”

I made a face. “Yeah, you’re right, you can spare me of that. Although, he was respectful toward me at the arraignment.”

Michael smiled, “That’s because he was all about business. Trust me, Mal, my family knows when to ham it up for the cameras or the public.”

I sighed and gave a shrug. “Whatever, without being rude, I don’t really care about pleasing your family at this point.”

“And you shouldn’t have to. Face it, I’m Michael Jackson, my entire family sees every single woman as an opportunist who is trying to grab my money. The most hilarious thing is, is that some of my siblings’ lives are entirely funded by me.”

I laughed, “Are you kidding me? Didn’t they make their own money?”

He laughed too, “Bankruptcy is an awful thing… getting sued for paternity suits and buying ridiculous things like you’ve never had a dime before, certainly can make you broke very quickly.”

“So you pay for everything?” I asked, “Like their homes, bills, groceries, everything?”

Michael laughed, realising how shocked and disgusted I was, and not to mention amused by the fact that grown men were taking from their little brother.

“Well, not all of my brothers; four of them and one of my sisters. I do it because of their children. I actually don’t mind doing it for my sister because she’s a great Mom and out of all of us, she got the rear end of the bargain. Her husband is a good man too, he works hard and I only give them money if they need it rather than on a regular basis,” he explained. “My brothers on the other hand – I give them almost like an allowance.”

I cracked up. “Fucking amazing. Grown men on an allowance funded by their youngest brother. I tell you, Michael, I’d be ashamed to even step out of my house if someone was funding my entire life. You know how funny I got when I found out about you helping out with my treatment.”

He just smiled and shrugged. “I can’t say no, it’s my family though.”

“You can say no if you want. It’d be kind of fun to see them get regular jobs rather than speak in public about you, trying to flip the media’s opinion by telling whatever bullshit story springs to mind, don’t you think?”

He laughed and nodded as though he were deep in thought.

I let my words settle for a moment. “I guess that’s why I love being here… it can be so lonely, but I’d rather be lonely than have to constantly feel like I’m trying to prove myself.”

I felt like that was a bit sad. I may have been frustrated with my parents at times and my mother might have infuriated me, but she always, always wanted me to be happy. She would have sold an organ in order to ensure my happiness and I don’t think there is a single thing that I could have done that would have brought her disappointment.

I looked out to the lake, feeling a bit more thankful for my family. I missed my Papa, especially.

“You won’t be lonely now that you have me…” I remarked, causing a smile to make its way across his lips.

“I’m glad for that…”

“And, you have my brother too. He may be a bit of a third wheel at the moment, but he adores the crap out of you…” I told my boyfriend meaningfully.

“I know, I’m lucky to have such a loyal friend in your brother. And you know, your parents have been really kind to me, too. I’m always happy to have kind people in my life.”

I wondered how hard it was for him given that I was sure he had once felt the same about Diane.

“Michael, do you still think a lot about Diane?” I asked him curiously.

Instantly, I saw his face tense. He seemed irate by the sheer mention of her name. “Sometimes… I try not to. Why do you ask?”

“After how betrayed I feel by the nurses, I don’t really ever want to trust anyone again. I don’t want friends, I don’t want anyone in my life except you… and I know how heartbreaking it feels to know that someone leaked my life for money… so I can only imagine what its like for someone to make up lies for… whatever reason…  how do you come back from that?  I mean, how can you even trust me?”

Michael moved closer to me, sitting back up. “I don’t want you to worry about me like that…” he said in a gentle way, as if he suspected that I was questioning things. He reached for my hand again and held it in both of his. “I have a deal with God that no matter how many times I get burned, I still trust people until they give me a reason not to.”

“I love that about you…” I told him, scooting over til there was no more space between us.

“I don’t want you to never trust anyone again. I don’t want to burden your heart like that, my heart. I want you to make that deal too.”

“I don’t believe in God, so it’s pointless…” I shrugged despite knowing that the comment would make him feel a little slighted.

“But you believe in me, so make the promise to me… that you’ll trust people until they give you a reason not to—but that’s not to say that you shouldn’t be careful and have your wits with people…”

I nodded and turned my body right around to face him. I smiled. “I promise you”

“Sometimes,” he began, lifting my sunglasses from my eyes and pushing them up on top of my head, “I wonder something similar about your situation…” his hands fell to my upper arms, caressing them absently.

His eyes gazed in to mine. I waited for him to elaborate. “I mean, “someone really violated your trust and here you are… that’s admirable.”

I had to take a deep breath, it seemed to ease the instant anxiety caused by thinking of my brother.

I immediately avoided his eyes; it was always that way whenever my brother was mentioned. “Can I share something with you?” I asked him. “I mean, if you don’t mind…”

“Sure baby, you can share anything with me…” he replied, taking both of my hands and lacing his fingers through mine.

I stared at his red shirt for a moment, focusing on a stain so tiny that I wouldn’t have otherwise noticed. I thought about Luke’s face as I braced myself to share my memories with Michael.

“You’re not as shy as you make yourself out to be!” Luke grinned at me, showing me his beautiful, pearly-white smile.

I laughed smugly, “I never said I was shy!” I shot back as I bounced the basketball roughly toward him.

He caught it and bounced it back to me. “Free shot,” he told me nodding toward the basketball net.

“I don’t need your pity, just cos you’re on varsity, doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own.”

He dropped the ball and let it bounce away. He was so, so, so pretty I had thought to myself. He had the smoothest skin for any seventeen-year-old at school.

He made his way over to me and wrapped his arms around me. “You look good today… well, not that you never look good—“ he stopped rambling and kissed me.

I remembered feeling so important and so beautiful around him. Our ‘thing’ was a secret; we could never have Samuel find out.

That was fairly short-lived though. 

I shook the memory that clouded my head and became present with Michael again, who was patiently waiting for me to speak. “I thought about Luke often when I was in the treatment centre; I talked to Raia about him and what happened between us before Samuel found out-“

“What actually happened? You’ve never told me…” he pressed.

I looked up at him for a moment and tried to determine whether or not I wanted to tell him. “Samuel and Luke were on the school basketball team, that’s how I met him. We became friends through happenstance, I think, a mutual and healthy fear of my brother… Luke had a very soft side to him and he also liked art, or at least he pretended to, to impress me.” I smiled.

Michael smiled too. It was hard to remember Luke fondly without thinking of the heartbreak of what happened to him. “We used to meet after school most days. He would meet me in the library ‘cos Samuel wouldn’t have even known the place existed and then it all changed—he kissed me once and then I guess we were dating…”

“Oh…” Michael seemed surprised.

I smiled at him, “Surprised?”

“No, if you were half as cute then as you are now, that’s definitely no surprise,” he replied shaking his head, making me laugh.

“Well, we were hanging out a bit like that for awhile and he used to drop me off around the corner from my house and I’d pretend I took the bus home,” I explained, “and then one day… we were around the corner and I’d told my parents I was going to be a bit late and that a girlfriend from a different grade would bring me home…”

“Oh, how deceitful!” Michael raised an eyebrow. We laughed. Raia kept telling me the importance of remembering the things about Luke that made me smile, and at least parts of my friendship with him did conjure up some warm and fuzzy feelings.

“It was exciting stuff, Michael, a varsity b-ball player wanted to hang out with me and kiss me… he was an older boy and he was smart.”

“And I bet he could barely resist you… even if you both were a bit scared of your brother.”

My smile dispersed as I slowly nodded. “We parked and we were making out and I’m not gonna lie, Michael, it got a little hot and heavy… and then it all kinda happened in a slow motion blur. I remember being pulled out of the car, yelling and screaming.  Luke tried to fight my brother back, but he used to go in to these rages… and then I just remember people coming out of their homes to help, the police, my parents… and then being that weird estranged family in the neighbourhood.”

I sighed.

Michael allowed me to talk, caressing my face after freeing a hand. His hands were warmer than mine felt. “Did you ever talk to Luke again?” he asked me.

“Not really. There was a court case, Samuel really ruined him. Not only was Luke in hospital for weeks with head injuries, chest injuries and whatever else, he missed the scouts’ visits; and he was such a great player, he had a great chance at getting scouted. I couldn’t face him. It was too shameful.”

“Have you ever thought of contacting him?” Michael wondered.

I shrugged. “Raia and I did consider it… but I’m not there yet. I have enough going on, I wouldn’t want some guy to tell me to fuck off, and I don’t think I could handle more guilt.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a good point… but maybe that could be a goal at some stage. A friendly talk to bring closure.”

I smirked and nodded. I reached up and grabbed for his hand and kissed the back of it. “Thanks for letting talk about it… I guess when we’re talking about trusting someone in a relationship sense, I wanted you to know that I’ve had an experience before Samuel where I was able to trust my intuition with someone.”

“I’m glad that it’s not an entirely foreign realm to you, having someone treat you warmly and respectfully.”

“Well… obviously my situation with Samuel far out-weighed any silly school-girl crush.” I replied bluntly. “But that doesn’t affect my trust with you… you’ve always made me feel so safe.”

“That’s all I want for you, to feel comfortable and safe with me…”

“And all I want for you, Michael is to never, ever feel lonely or scared anymore, regardless of what you’re going through.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked me softly as though he had never laid his lips upon me in the past. I knew, however, that he wasn’t asking if he could kiss me like we had been. I knew what he was getting at; he wanted to really kiss me. He wanted to sit there and make out with me.

“I think it’s a bit late to be asking questions like that…” I replied with a little smile playing dumb.

“No, I mean…” he paused and looked uncomfortable, as though he couldn’t explain what he meant without getting tongue-tied.

“You can kiss me,” I told him firmly, feeling his fingertips tracing the outline of my face and bringing goosebumps to the surface of my skin.

He leaned over, his face hovering before me, getting in close. He pecked my lips just once before pulling away and gazing at me with hooded eyes and repeating his actions. I wasn’t sure what he was playing at, but I hated the teasing.

I leaned in slightly to recapture the kiss. There was so much tension between us. The good kind, I thought as he pulled away again. Our lips were just a slight distance apart while our eyes searched each other’s face.

He finally covered my lips with his, slightly parting his mouth. I couldn’t help myself this time as I dared to taste his lip with the very tip of my tongue. The intensity between us felt amazing.

My hands found his waist and rested just there, linking a finger or two in the empty belt loops. 

I loved how much care he took with the way that his hands searched my face. He wasn’t ever the slightest bit rough. His kisses were sensual and delicate and made my entire body tingle. I felt his tongue tasting mine, eliciting an involuntary whimper from the back of my throat.

He backed off slightly, wondering if it was a sound of protest.

To encourage him again, I let my hand slide up his hard, muscular back that was arched over toward me. I was leaning further and further back as we kissed, finally ending up lying in the lush grass. He joined me, propped on his hands, over me. It was so good to not have to give a shit about our surroundings. I wiggled slightly to get more comfortable.

My hand found the back of his head and I pulled him toward me, running my nails through his messy curls. He made a noise in the back of his own throat that allowed me to know how much he liked it.

I felt his tongue drawing a line along my upper lip before he caught it between his own, pulling a little as if play-biting me. He drew back in and kissed me with a little more passion. I gripped his waist tightly.

Lowering onto his forearm, I felt his free hand slide down my back, his fingers running a firm line down the dip of my spine and making my back arch. I moaned softly, kissing him back hungrily while his hands settled at the hem of my t-shirt. I could feel him toying with it, trying to resist slipping a hand beneath the fabric.

I opened my mouth a little, allowing his tongue to slide inside. He drew patterns upon mine while his lips worked effortlessly to make me feel so wonderful.

It was very hard not to want more of him. My hands searched his back, even lifting his shirt to feel the skin of his waist. I noticed he did the same, he had a hand resting beneath my shirt upon my bare flesh, brushing his fingers back and forth over the waist of my jeans. As he lowered onto his side, he pulled me close to him, squeezing me against him.

It felt so good but I could feel myself starting to lose control of my inhibitions, which began to scare me. I was breathless and my entire body tingled and I ached in places that I cared not to admit.

I closed my lips, ending the kiss with a series of tender, wet kisses on his mouth. I created some distance between us, but I almost couldn’t help myself. I had to continue to lean in for another short set of kisses, touching his tongue with mine briefly each time. The last one lingered, our mouths reluctant to end it.

Finally, I moved back a little.

His hand continued caressing the bare skin of my waist. I didn’t mind, it felt nice and it was soothing me from overreacting about my lack of inhibitions.

I was breathless and my heart was racing like crazy.

There was a slight smile on his face as he relaxed down. We lay in silence for a few moments staring a little shyly at one another; feeling thrilled and incredibly turned on by each other. “You okay?” he asked, noticing that I was breathless.

To be honest, it was partly anxiety and partly breathless from the race my heart was running after all the kissing.

I smiled and nodded, looking at him, I’m sure with googly eyes. He let go of my waist and began to caress my hair, raking his fingers through it. “You’re a bit breathless,” he added.

“A combination of your effect on me and trying to breathe through my nose for a prolonged number of minutes,” I chuckled.

He laughed too.

He leaned in and kissed me again. It was hard not to let it continue in to round two. And it did, for at least a few more moments, but this time he pulled away first.

“I have feelings for you right now that I feel like I shouldn’t be feeling,” I told him bluntly, trailing off. “And if we keep ending up like this, I don’t know how slow we’ll be taking things.”

“That’s okay if you want that, too…” he murmured warily as if he were afraid I might get mad.

The part of my brain that wanted him to make love to me was fighting with the other part of the brain that told me to run off in the other direction.

But, in the interest of not ruining the intimate moment between us, I just smiled and my interior conflict to myself.

“I love you…” I told him, touching his cheek. He propped up his head with an elbow and smiled. I knew he loved to hear me say it and it wasn’t very hard to squeeze the words out anymore.

“I love you too, sweetheart…” his voice trailed off.

 

 

Chapter 53 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Here's chapter 53 -- please leave feedback :) I try to make it a habit to reply to all of my feedback because its really encouraging to read as a writer and keeps me motivated to update! 

Hope everyone is having a great week. I'll post chapter 54 in a few days time. 

x

Chapter 53

It was a breath of fresh air to have crisp clothes and underwear and make up.  I was never the kind of girl who was interested in getting glamorous, but after not being able to make myself feel good for so long, I was looking forward to actually being able to pamper myself.

And there were other things too, like my favourite pillow and a few of my favourite books.

Kaito didn’t arrive back until quite late that evening; Michael and I spent the evening watching TV and napping. I had become accustomed to napping through the day, so we cuddled up on the couch, watched a movie and both slept on and off.  I’d decided I was going to cook something basic since apparently he didn’t have that much food left.

We were both bleary-eyed and cuddled up beneath an afghan that he told me belonged to his mother. Or at least, she’d made it for him. “This is great…” he murmured, snuggling in with a little yawn, “I don’t think I’ve relaxed like this for a long, long time…”

“Me, ever…” I chuckled, feeling him spoon me as we focused half-heartedly on the television.

“Can I say something?” he asked me as if he were leading in to a serious conversation.

I turned my body to face him. “You just did…” I quipped.

He cocked his head to the side as if telling me to shut up with my silliness. I just smiled.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been with a girl who’s so… reciprocal,” he shared with me, “and open… I know you keep a lot to yourself, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t feel like I have to fight you to communicate with me, you communicate so well, all things considered.  I thought it might be harder.”

I thought for a moment before responding. “Don’t get me wrong, I do struggle, but you are special… and you are all those very same things with me. Even when it’s hard, I have made a commitment to you that I’ll try, that’s all we can both ask for and expect…”

He nodded with understanding. “But this is nice… I love that you are so kind to me and you consider all of my feelings, I can’t stay that I’ve experienced that in this kind of a situation.”

I felt a slight sense of pity for him, but realised quickly I was probably in the exact same position. “I guess I do for you what I want you to do for me,” I explained.

“And do I? Are you happy with everything? I mean, the way that I support you? If there’s anything I’m not doing, you need to tell me…” he pushed his hair from his eyes and stared at me as if he were afraid I’d say something he didn't want to hear.

“I’m happy,” I smiled, “you’re perfect…”

“I don’t know about that…” he replied, sitting up a little. He looked down in to my eyes for a moment before pressing his lips against mine. I could taste the traces of the sweet soda he’d been drinking earlier on his mouth. I slipped my hands up to his shoulders, kissing him back softly at first but with a little more passion as I sank further back in to the couch.

For the first time in my life I wasn’t frightened of another person’s body entirely covering mine, on top of me; I felt protected and cared for. I wasn’t scared that he may start trying to peel off my clothes or force me to do something that I wasn’t ready to. I knew if I asked him to back off me, he would. I knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.

This man was someone who cared for me in an unselfish way.

His hands cupped my face as he prompted my mouth open with his tongue. His warm, soft tongue that tasted of the berries we had eaten earlier. I wasn’t sure if I could sink any further back in to the couch.

I slipped my arms around his back.

He always smelled so good; of a cologne that I couldn’t place. I inhaled deeply as we kissed with passion and slight urgency.

I felt his hands slowly fall from my cheeks… one hand rested upon my neck, caressing my skin and causing chills to rise upon the surface. His other hand fell upon my shoulder.

I felt his teeth sinking softly in to my lips before kissing them better and leaving my mouth to follow a trail slowly down my cheek to my earlobe. I sighed softly, trying to control my beating heart.

He caught the shell of my ear between his lips as I tilted my head, allowing him room to kiss me. His mouth covered the skin between my neck and shoulder and I could feel myself yielding to the spell he’d cast upon me.

I shifted beneath him, allowing him room between my legs to get a little more comfortable.

His hand grazed over my hip and down my thigh, resting gently upon my knee at his side. Even the touch of his hand sent my head in to a spin. Part of me did want to start pushing off his clothes and start touching him and letting him undress me.

I let out a moan as he squeezed my thigh. Almost involuntarily, I reached for the collar of his shirt, letting my fingers undo a button or two. I had to force myself to stop.

He found my mouth again, leaving my neck cool and wet from his tongue working against my flesh.

He pulled away, trying to break off the kiss, but we kept recapturing it without any control. I felt his other hand caressing my hair almost as if he were trying to ween himself away from me. I understood; I felt the same.

His kisses slowed down as did mine, keeping at whatever pace he led with.

“I love you,” he blurted from his lips the second that our mouths parted. I was breathless and gazed at him a little dumbly. I hoped my eyes told him how he made me feel. He closed his own for just a moment as he kissed me one last time. His hand stroked my outer thigh back and forth. I was too ashamed to admit that I wanted it to go further. My skin was burning beneath my jeans.

He lay his hand stationary but his thumb caressed me until I guessed he had calmed down. He rested his forehead against mine with his eyes clamped shut as if he were praying for self-control.

“I respect you…” he murmured.

I chuckled, “I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

He lifted his head and chuckled too, “I said, I respect you… I respect you too much to let this go any further at this point-“ he clarified what he meant. “I’m sorry if I got too carried away.”

I shook my head, “I trust you Michael,” I said simply, “I trust that you keep your promises.”

He was just easing up when Kaito burst through the door.

We probably appeared like started deer in headlights. Kaito cleared his throat and looked irate. “Uh… what is going on here?” he demanded to know as Michael raised himself up off me. I sat up too, allowing him to get up.

“Nothing is going on, man,” Michael said casually with a bit of an uncomfortable laugh. I knew he didn’t really feel as though he needed to explain himself and frankly, neither did I.

Kaito said nothing further and stormed out of the room.

“Oh my God…” I exclaimed, “what a baby…”

“I’m so embarrassed…” Michael murmured, covering his face.

“Michael, this is your house!” I hissed at him, “this is crap…” I got up, “I’m gonna go talk to him.”

Kaito had headed toward the kitchen so I followed him, feeling irritated by his actions. “Kaito, what the hell was that?” I asked him when I found him cleaning dishes that Michael and I had left after dinner. If I weren’t so annoyed, I’d have laughed at his ‘Mom’ role that he’d all but assumed.

“Nothing, Malania, nothing…” he snapped.

I just laughed, “if you’re mad because you caught me making out with Michael, you need to get over it because it’s none of your business and it’s not even your house.”

He looked up at me and glared for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. “You aren’t in the position to be making any crazy decisions, Malania, I’m looking out for you!”

“You are seriously driving me insane!” I snapped loudly. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” I paused, “or what not to do!” 

Michael emerged from the doorway and glanced at me in a little reproachful way. “Sweetheart,” he began, “could you please give Kaito and I a moment to have a chat?” he was always so calm and I was frustrated a lot easier.

“Michael,” I cocked my head to show him that I was in the middle of telling my brother off.

Kaito ignored us both, putting things into the cupboards. Michael stared at me for a moment as if he were silently trying to convince me. “You know what, you both do what you’ve got to do,” Kaito slammed the cupboard, “I left your things by your bedroom door, Malania. There’s some food from Mom in the refrigerator. I’m going to the gym and I’ll see myself to bed. Give you both all the privacy you need…”

I drew in a deep breath as he stormed out.

“Jeez…” I breathed with annoyance, “what a fucking baby.”

Michael wasn’t so irate though—or at least if he was, he wasn’t letting it show. “I mean, I guess I can get why he’s a bit upset…”

I stared at my boyfriend incredulously until he smiled, almost laughing at my angry frown. He reached over and smoothed my eyebrows, “Get rid of those angry eyebrows…” 

“You don’t need this shit in your own house.”

“I don’t need you and your brother fighting like cats and dogs either,” he replied. “If I knew any one of my friends was all kissin’ on my little sister I wouldn’t like it either. I’d feel weird about it.”

“I understand that, but don’t you think it’s a bit late for him to be so concerned?” I shot back.

“Well… a bit, Mal, but… look at what they’ve all just found out, of course everyone in your life is going to be overprotective even if it’s misplaced,” he explained.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go downstairs and see what Mama packed for me,” I shrugged.

“I’m going to go and chat with your brother and try to see if his concerns have anything to do with me…” Michael informed me.

I was frustrated. I reserved the urge to march downstairs ahead of Michael and confront my brother on being an idiot. I let Michael win instead. It wasn’t worth riling myself up over.

**

Fresh new things, I thought, lifting my pyjama pants up and inhaling the sweet scent of my Mama’s favourite fabric softener. It made me miss home momentarily, but I was grateful for her sending everything along that I had asked for.

I was grateful for shoes with laces, for my favourite black jeans, my collection of t-shirts and a couple of dress tops. I was most happy to receive my make up and beauty products; I had missed my facial cleanser the most.

Mama put in a few sneaky extras too, it was her little way of telling me she loved me. She loved Kaito too, but these were for me, I thought as I spied the small plastic bag full of my favourite kind of candy bars. Almond joys, Aero, Milky Way and a bunch of different Reeses bars. I couldn’t help myself; one of my small joys had always been chocolate. I grabbed the Crispy crunch Reeses, ripped it open, and took a bite as I rifled through the rest of my belongings.

She’d even packed my bikini. I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to wear it in front of Michael any time soon, but in case I did, it was there.

Michael had been gone for over an hour, pandering to my brother’s little tantrum, probably, but at least it left me to think about how the day had gone.

I wasn’t too concerned about Katherine Jackson for the most part. At first when I sensed tension, I felt a bit sad that she wasn’t happy about me. That wasn’t in question; it was clear.  But, I knew she had to have felt protective over her son especially after what had happened with Diane. I began to realise that it was probably less about me and more about him.

I had made the decision to weather the storm that Michael was going through with him, but his mother didn’t know me, she didn’t know that and she was probably going to have a hard time trusting me on behalf of him.

And then there were all the physical moments I had spent with him throughout the day that made me a little bit proud of myself.

I wasn’t ready to sleep with Michael even though my body sometimes dared me to take those steps. I was aware that sometimes intimate moments confused me and triggered some thoughts that made me react involuntarily. It was instinct that sometimes caused me to push him away or calmly disengage from the situation.

If and when I began to freak out, I tried to silently talk myself through it rather than freaking out dramatically and yelling at him to stop. I had to teach myself strategies to stop that from happening. I’d close off a kiss, or extricate myself from an embrace in such a way that would only allow Michael to know that I was wanting to create some distance, rather than that I was panicking.

It wasn’t really something I wanted to share with him. I didn’t want him to know when my brain was playing games with me.

Interrupting me with a knock as I was taking my second last bite of my chocolate, Michael let himself in to my new room.

For whatever reason, feeling as though I’d been found out, I hid my chocolate behind my back.

He gave me a funny look with his gorgeous little smile. “What are you hiding?” he asked as I tried to swallow the chocolate discreetly.

“Umm… nothing…” I replied with a laugh.

“Sure you are… what you got behind your back?” he asked, chuckling. When he realised I was still chewing, he continued, “you don’t need to sneak food you know, you can help yourself… I don’t care.”

I just laughed as he advanced closer to me. I swivelled around, avoiding him.

“Malania!” he was laughing but I could tell he was wondering what I was doing. I was just playing with him now.

I gave up, pulling the Reeses candy bar from behind my back. I showed it to him.

He began to laugh, “Where on earth did you get that? Did you find a candy stash that I forgot about?”

“No,” I replied, “My Mama sent me a little ‘care’ package, I don’t know why I hid it, I guessed I didn’t want Kaito to know, I’ve seen him smash through food like a pig at a trough.”

“Nah, he wouldn’t eat chocolate, it has processed sugar and probably smells like simple carbs or some crap…” he joked.

We both laughed.

“But I will,” he swooped in faster than I could swipe the chocolate away from his grip and grabbed it straight out of my hand. He plopped the last bite of the candy bar in to his mouth before I even had time to protest.

“I love chocolate!” he told me with his mouthful.

I stood, shocked, leaving him laughing and trying to chew and not choke.

“Aww,” he laughed, “I’m sorry…”

“Jerk!” I exclaimed, “I see I’m going to have to hide my candy wisely… sheesh.”

He laughed and didn’t disagree.

“How did it go with Kaito?” I asked him a little more seriously. My furiousness seemed to dissipate. I tried to see things from my brother’s point-of-view, but in the end, I still felt like his concern was misplaced.

“It was fine…” Michael nodded, advancing closer to me and slipping his arms around me, “he just loves you and probably feels guilty about everything that’s happened in the past, and so he’s trying to make up for it all.”

“I know, but I guess that makes me angry…” I admitted, lifting my head to look up at my beautiful boyfriend. His chestnut eyes met mine and his hard jaw relaxed in to a sympathetic smile. He kissed the crown of my head.

“I understand…”

“Whatever, I don’t have the patience to deal with that tonight,” I informed him, breaking away from his embrace to continue taking out things out of the suitcase and placing them in organised piles on the bed.

“Did your Mama pack all the clothes you wanted?” he asked me, changing the subject too.

I nodded.

He took a seat on the edge of my bed and watched me organise my things. “Oh hey, is that your swimwear?” he asked, nodding to my bikini. I felt my face flush as I gave a nod, confirming it.

“Cool, we could go swimming tomorrow…”

“Maybe.” I replied non-committed.

“What’s wrong? Your mood just totally changed…” he observed out loud. I glanced at him and in all honesty, I didn’t really feel like having a long and intense conversation about my feelings.

“Nothing, I guess I’m just getting my head around everything again… I’m tired too, I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“How about… we get our pyjamas on and since Kaito is now upstairs and watching TV now, we watch a movie or something in my room,” he suggested.

A part of me knew that despite the fact that Michael was respectful of my past and what I was or wasn’t ready for, he would have also been eager to push past those things and take our relationship to the next level.

Perhaps his invitation was innocent, I was pretty sure he wasn’t trying to lure me in to sex given that my brother would be sleeping upstairs and had just had a heart-to-heart with him of sorts. Though, I knew where even an innocent invitation could end up – well, if earlier had been anything to go by.

Still, I knew I could trust Michael and part of being in an adult relationship wasn’t trying to dodge him when things made me a little bit anxious.

“Don’t answer so soon…” he jibed me playfully, “are you mad cos I ate the last bite of your Reeses crunch?”

I laughed, releasing some tension that I was sure was all over my face. “No, I’m not mad. Sure, lets do the movie thing.”

“Okay,” he smiled, getting up. “Do you want a coffee or some snacks?” he asked me, knowing that sometimes I did enjoy coffee.

“No, I’m fine thanks baby,”

“K, I’ll be in my room down the hall, join me when you’re ready and I’ll find something for us to watch.”

**

I found places for things in the room that was temporarily mine and got changed in to a pair of plaid, pink flannel pyjama pants that were so warm and smelled like home. I pulled on a clean grey UC t-shirt that was a little baggy on me these days.

I glanced at the clock above my bed and saw that it was almost 9:30, I was tired and almost ready for sleep, maybe I wouldn’t have been able to sit through a movie.

I made my way to his room. He smiled to see me. I smiled back at him and closed the door quietly behind me. He was sitting up, leaning against his bed head, comfortable beneath the covers of his bed. He patted the spot beside him. “There’s not much on TV…” he told me.

I shrugged, making my way over to the empty side of his bed. He pulled the plain, cream-coloured comforter back for me.

“Malania, what’s wrong… did I say something wrong back there?” he asked, his head cocked looking at me almost reproachfully.

He looked a little bit silly in his own blue and white striped pyjamas. 

I slid in to bed and drew in a deep breath.

“Michael, I’m fine…” I told him seriously, “I’m maybe a bit moody. There’s a lot going on in my head… I don’t entirely know how to share that just yet.” I admitted.

He was silent for a moment before he slipped an arm around me. I scooted closer to him and rested my head upon his shoulder. He was so warm. “I want to ask… but I want to give you space as well. Is it about me?”

I gave some thought before I answered. “Not really… I guess I can’t expect that everything is all better now because I left my treatment. Technically, I still had two more weeks and none of my problems have magically resolved. If anything, there’s probably more to deal with now. It’s just that I can bury my head in the sand for a short spell while I’m here with you.”

“I hear that…” Michael mumbled softly, stroking my arm as we both focused absently on the TV that he’d just turned down.

“Every now and then I get a little reminder of something from the past and I shut-down, you know?” I glanced up at him. He had a very serious expression on his face.

“Okay… we can just watch TV then, but you know if you want to go in to it, I’m here…” he told me, kissing me upon the crown of my head.

**

At three in the morning we were both still awake, laying side by side staring at the ceiling and giggling like teenagers over stupid things.

We’d resigned that TV wasn’t cutting it, so we turned it off because the noise was distracting from our conversations.

“You should just sleep here tonight…” Michael suggested, turning on his side to face me, slipping his hands in to mine that lay between us.

“You wanna sleep beside me again?” I asked casually, as if it hadn’t already crossed my mind. I knew I probably shouldn’t. It was hard though, when his presence seemed to bring me so much calm instead of the panic that nighttime seemed to bring me when I was alone.

“It’s probably not a good idea, is it?” he said with a little smile. “I’d love for you to, but… in the interest of being good to you and taking things slow…”

I just smiled at him. His tiny gestures of kindness and consideration for my feelings, my past and my request for him to be patient made me especially grateful. “No, but… what if I wanted to stay here?” I asked him in a soft, almost vulnerable tone.

The dark was an awful time for me to be alone.

His smile grew and I watched him shrug. “I’d never kick you out of my bed,” he winked.

“K, then I’ll sleep here beside you,” I told him definitively.

We had spent a great lot of time staring at one another, searching each other’s eyes. It seemed like something that would have ordinarily made me feel a high level of discomfort, but with him it felt natural. His fingers were always caressing the frame of my face, or running through my hair; showing absent affection that seemed to warm me right through.

I had never felt so comfortable with a man.

“Gosh….” I sucked in some air, feeling the intensity of my feelings for him hit me in an overwhelming way.

“What, what is it?” he asked, watching me bury my face in to his crisp, white pillows. He seemed amused.

I couldn’t tell him while he was staring at me, his face propped up by his elbow.

I slowly peeled the pillow away and flashed him another smile and tried not to be a child about it. “I feel so safe…” I admitted quietly.

“You’ve said that a few times, like you seem surprised,” he remarked, just as quietly, matching my tone. “When you say things like that, I feel like you have the impression that you always need to be on guard around me.”

I thought fleetingly about my previous situation. On guard was probably an understatement of how I’d felt in my past. “Well… you know.”

“When you say that, do you mean… in a physical sense or…?”

“Physically, emotionally… I feel like you’re my safe space.” I admitted.

I could see that he was thinking about my honesty. He grazed his forefingers over my cheek as he gazed at me. “You are safe with me.”

I cleared my throat and reached for his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “I guess I should clarify that. I meant—you make me feel relaxed, you know. My mind feels free and I’m completely myself with you and I guess that’s a relief cos sometimes it gets tiring when I’m trying to keep up a charade.”

“Who else you gotta keep up a charade for?” he asked gently. I noticed his voice seemed to deepen the later it got and the more tired he became.

I considered his question. I smiled wryly, not liking that we’d just gone from laughing and joking to a more deep-seeded conversation.

I yawned and stretched, letting go of his hand. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“C’mon, of course it matters… you were about to tell me something… you should tell me. Don’t play like it’s too much. We’re just talkin’ and getting to know each other more—this is good for us.”

We knew each other, but sometimes I realised we didn’t know each other.

“I guess I just love that with you I don’t have to fit anyone’s mold…” I pushed the words from my mouth and felt strangely lighter. “I don’t have family who want things from me, or want me to say the right thing just to alleviate their guilt all the time, you know?” I asked, “And I don’t have to always have my guard up in fear of letting someone down.”

He began to nod emphatically. “That…” he said with decisiveness, “that, what you said just now…” he suddenly grew a grin that confused me for the moment because his excitement seemed misplaced. “Mal, this is why I fell in love with you; you make me feel exactly the same. I can be me with you…”

He kissed me softly on the lips before pulling away. He rested his hand upon my upper arm. “I guess we’re not the same as most people our own age—I mean, you’re not, for obvious reasons-“

“Heyyyy, what do you mean by that?”

“I mean that you’re one of the most famous people to be walking the earth and I bet everyone; friends, family, fans, scorned exes, they all want a piece of the pie.”

He chuckled. “I know what you meant—I think you’re spot on. You are not like most people, period. Maybe that’s why you’re so special though. You are probably the most positive person I know who’s had the most negative experiences that I know. You are beautiful and unique and I don’t want to be with someone who is like everyone else…there’s something special in here…” he tapped his own heart to signify mine.

“Unique?” I scoffed at the suggestion; “Michael the only thing that makes me unique is my past, my hospital stays and my shit family.”

“Pfft, lies…” Michael rolled his eyes at me. “You’re unique, trust me. You’re the first woman I’ve met that genuinely knows about art that hasn’t had to study fucking cue cards just to impress me.”

I actually laughed out loud at the absurdity and also by the curses that always sounded so harsh coming from his mouth.

He was laughing too, “and,” he added, “you have this very cool fashion style. Cute Asian girl, dressing like she’s about to go to a rock concert but listens exclusively to Michael Jackson, Fleetwood Mac, Vivaldi and Yo Yo Ma.” He joked, as if he were appraising me. “Then you’ve got that incredible loyalty that is really hard to come by…”

“Thanks, Michael…” I smiled at him, appreciative of him always trying to build me up.

He sighed with contentment and kissed me again. “Do you need anything from your room?”

I shook my head.

He eased down on the pillow beside me. “So… what’s your favourite colour?”

I gave him a funny look, “I dunno,” he shrugged with a little chuckle in reply to everything my expression was asking him, “what better way to learn about you than fifty questions.”

“Colors; green… but I love red stuff; red fruit, red candy, red cars…” I replied, humouring him. “What about you? What’s yours?”

“Red or purple… colours of royalty…” he smirked showing me that tiny bit of ego that he usually kept at bay.

I laughed.

“Okay, what about…” he thought, “I already know your favourite food is Japanese and it’s kinda up there for me too, but I do love some good greasy soul food … what about the kind of things you do when you’re at home; before all of this?”

I thought about that. “I guess I used to read a lot. I used to help my Mama out around the house as well… Art, I used to listen to music, write… I guess I spent a lot of time writing, it’s a good outlet.”

He nodded, “Me too… music though, and songs…” 

“You know what I always wondered?” I thought of something.

“Sure, what?” he asked, realising something had piqued my interest.

“I always wondered where all your friends are. You have so many friends or had so many friends; we often saw you with Diana Ross and Elizabeth Taylor, like… weren’t you good friends with Eddie Murphy and Arsenio and all of those guys, where are they?”

Michael seemed to get slightly uncomfortable for the moment. He just shrugged. “I guess it’s easier to step back. They probably don’t want to get stigmatised. Liz is the only one… She puts a call through almost every day. She knows about you though, and she knows that I’ll ask for her help if I need it.”

“Will you, though?” I wondered. Michael didn’t strike me as the type to ask for too much help.

He didn’t really answer me.

“What if you take this situation from the equation. You made it seem like you were always so busy outside of work with friends and social functions and you sometimes do strike me as a very social person…” I probed him, sick of him getting to ask all the hard-hitting questions.

He chewed on my question for a few moments. He stared up at the ceiling and skewed his mouth in thought. Finally, he turned back to me and shrugged. “I dunno, I guess I go through stages where I like to be social, usually when life is going well. In this situation, I just want to be alone or at least with someone, you, who I don’t have to pretend with… Going to parties and industry stuff though, I feel like that’s always been more to satisfy other people that I’m not locked up in a cave here at home turning in to a recluse.”

“I don’t understand…” I shrugged, “why do we always have to satisfy other people? I mean, if you’re at home enjoying your own company when you’re being this so-called recluse, are you happy or content?” I wanted to know.

Michael smiled, “Yeah… I like my own space. Work and fame is exhausting, when I get home, all I want to do is sleep and read or watch movies. I don’t want to go back out and have to deal with people,” he admitted.

“Then I wonder why we always cater to everyone else’s standards…” I wondered out loud, “it’s always been the same for me. My sister used to get frustrated with me because I didn’t want to go to parties with her, or shopping or – school stuff, I didn’t go to prom or spring dances, I hated all that, but she never understood – and she’d convince my parents to try to push me in to all those extra-curricular activities…”

Michael wrinkled his nose, “Seriously? Shouldn’t your parents have been happy that you were at home where they could keep their eye on you? I would be…”

I shrugged again, “they probably just wanted a normal daughter.”

He grimaced at my response. “I guess for me, I just hate letting people down, but there are very few people that I enjoy spending time with over hanging out and relaxing on my own. I actually always liked going out to dinners though – I gotta eat, so it worked out well for me if people wanted to be social that way.”

I laughed, “Hopefully it’ll never get to the point with me where you’ll only want to hang out for dinner.”

“Never, my heart, and you know why?”

“Why?” I asked.

“Cos you’re not hard work,” he replied, “I can relax around you; I don’t feel like you are the type of girl that needs me to constantly entertain her – and maybe I’m wrong and correct me if I am, but I like that you and I, we can really talk. I’ve never had that with a girl…”

“You’re not wrong…” I replied with a faint smile and reached over to caress his face. “I’ve always thought that it would be important to be able to talk to your partner… what’s the point if you can’t? I’m sure sex is very important as well, but take that from the equation- and then what?”

“Maybe that’s why so many relationships fail—people always have sex so immediately and don’t learn how to communicate first?” he suggested. I nodded in agreement.

I laughed, having a sudden thought. “Listen to me… talking like I’m some big expert… I wouldn’t know the recipe for a healthy relationship if it bit me in the ass.”

Michael laughed too and shook his head at my self-depreciating comment. “You knew enough to deviate away from awful relationships…” he pitched, “I mean, girls with your past often go the other way; become reckless with their body and end up in a really bad place.”

I thought for a moment before I chuckled again a little sardonically. “Michael, you can’t really say I’ve ended up in such a healthy place.”

His eyes searched mine. He shrugged, “I mean, you’re not a meth head or anything,” he teased…

I giggled and poked him in the shoulder. “I guess I’ve got that going for me…thanks,” I nodded, “Malania… not. A tweaker…” I joked, ticking off an imaginary checklist with my hands. He laughed along with me.

“Malania, can I tell you something about Diane? I’m not telling you to compare, but-“

“Michael, of course, I’m sorry that I overreacted about Diane a little while back… I was being insecure.”

“I was in a relationship where… sometimes it was so silent and I didn’t know what to say when we were alone and it used to get awkward.”

It surprised me. I had a totally different impression of their relationship. I knew he wasn’t done, so I just closed my mouth and listened. I wasn’t sure where it was headed.

“And sometimes I think I enjoyed the silence because the constant complaining was insufferable some days. We had a lot on our plate with Casey, granted, but… I felt like she’d never have any beautiful memories with her daughter because she could never just be present, you know?”

I nodded, listening.

“Why did you stay with her, I mean, surely you saw something in her?” I pointed out.

“Casey…” he spoke quietly. “I saw Casey in her…” he drew in a deep breath and sighed.

“I’m sorry, baby…” I murmured.

He avoided my stare by looking up at the ceiling. I saw him blinking back a film of water and felt a pang of sadness for him. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again.

Probably to compose himself.

“I tried so hard… I forced conversations, I kept telling myself that she would love me when Casey was better. When Casey was doing well, she said she was stressed with keeping her well, when Casey was unwell, she said she couldn’t focus on me because she felt guilty for not focusing on Casey…” he ranted, “and so I tried to support her supporting Casey—and she just …never returned it…”

“I think you lived that relationship with hope that it could be what you wanted it to be so long as you persevered.”

He nodded. “There’s no shame in being sad about it, or feeling like you’ve been taken for a ride.”

He cleared his throat. “I just want to put it all in my past, but… I guess I’m just besotted with what we have because I’ve dreamed to be with someone who is also giving of herself as well… it’s not hard work.”

I smiled and stroked the inside of his wrist.

“And you’re smart, too” he pointed out, “Maybe Diane was smart, but I wouldn’t have ever been able to find out. She must have thought I was a bit dumb, she used to get mad if I wasn’t empathetic enough for her liking.” He explained, “and you know, I am empathetic, I hate being underestimated.”

“I would never underestimate you, I believe in you a thousand percent in every aspect of your life.”

This made him smile. He covered his hand with mine. “I love being with you, I don’t care if we go out on dates or just lay like this – as long as I’m with you…”

“You’re beautiful…” he murmured. “I think that you’ve quickly become my very best friend, and I’ve never been best friends with a girl that I’ve dated.”

“Looks like there’s going to be a couple of first times between us…” I joked.

He gave a soft laugh, knowing exactly what I was getting at. “Let’s pray so…” he nodded, “But, there’s no rush for any of that.”


Chapter 54 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

When I didn’t answer, he raised his voice, “Well? Do you? Does the idea of going to jail appeal to you?”

“NO!” I shouted, finally. The idea, quite frankly made my pulse quicken and made my throat close up and the breathing that I was trying to do became very difficult. 

Ruh-roh! What silly thing has Michael done! This chapter is one full of emotion and anger. I'm kind of excited to see what everyone thinks :) Thanks in advance for your reviews & ratings! <3 

Chapter 54

“Just how many times are we going to go over this!?” Diane glared at me reproachfully. At these moments I always seemed to shrink back in to myself, feeling as though I was being admonished like a child.

“I’m sorry,” I apologised quietly as I carefully placed Casey’s carrot sticks, beans and broccoli in to separate partitions of the little container, getting her ready for her treatment the following day. I pressed the lid down on it, sealing the container. I pushed it across the countertop where Diane snatched it and found a place for it in the fridge.

“What do you want from me?” Diane asked pointedly, staring at me. Sometimes her stare could be intimidating, especially when she was in one of these moods.

“Nothing, never mind,” I replied, avoiding her eyes. I grabbed a carrot stick and plopped it in to my mouth, concealing the larger container with all the cut up vegetables and reopening the refrigerator to find somewhere for it. 

“Sweetie,” she began patronisingly, “don’t play this passive aggressive game that you love to play. I am here with you, if I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t be with you.”

She spoke with such an air of finality but I was just frustrated. I wouldn’t have traded what I had for the world because of how familiar things had become and because of how much I cared for the both of them, but it was starting to feel like I was just throwing my feelings out and that they were falling upon deaf ears.

“Daddy…” I glanced down to find Casey at my legs. I winced upon hearing what I’d been trying to coax her out of calling me. Her arms extended high in to the air, reaching up to my hips.

“Casey!” Diane warned her, “It’s Michael,” she reminded her, on the cusp of losing her cool. I could tell she was stressed out, but it wasn’t okay to take it out on her daughter.

“I don’t really mind, you know…” I told her quietly, prepared to be admonished once again. I leaned over and lifted Casey up in in to my arms.

I do.” She muttered.

I didn’t really see the big deal, personally. If Casey’s father was around, I would get it, but he wasn’t, it was just me and I was a fatherly influence to her. It was a little bit hurtful that Diane was constantly denying me that right.

It wasn’t my choice, though. I had to respect her decision.

“What you doing, Michael?” Casey asked me. Her voice was always so soft and sweet. It made me smile and it made Diane’s hot-and-cold behaviour all worth the frustration.

“I’m putting some food aside for you to take with you and Mommy tomorrow,” I told her.

“Can you read me a story?” she asked, resting her head against my shoulder.

“Case, don’t bother, Michael, honey, remember? He is leaving tomorrow for a little while, he needs to go to bed early.”

“Di, it’s okay,” I said, louder. Maybe that’s where it was all coming from, my leaving. “I want to spend as much time with you guys before I go... There will be plenty of time to sleep on the plane.”

“Don’t start, Michael… seriously, I’m not in the mood…”

I drew in a deep breath; I never ever wanted to get in to it in front of our little girl. Maybe Diane felt like I was abandoning them and I guess I kind of understood the way she felt, but it wasn’t a surprise, my tour was about to start.

I was always going to be ready to board a plane to see them the second that either of them asked.

You,” I glared at her, you don’t start…” I said firmly. “Casey and I, we’re going to go read a story, you can sit out here and sulk or you can join us… I’m done with this discussion.”

Casey wrapped both of her arms around my neck and nuzzled in to me as she always did. I just adored that child.

“What story are we going to read?” I asked her as we made our way downstairs to her newly-decorated, pink bedroom.

“We are going to read ummmmm….” She thought about it, “the Berrinsum Bears again!”

I smiled and chuckled, “The Bearenstein Bears!?” I asked, subtly correcting her, “again?!”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “I like it!”

“I know you like it, you could almost read the story to me, that’s how well you know it!”

Casey giggled.

“Come on, then, let’s go and read your favourite book.”

**

I poured a glass of water and heated the kettle for some tea for Malania.

I saw the answering machine blinking. It had probably been like that for days. I pressed play.

“Michael, Greg here… you need to contact me immediately. You know where I’m at.”

I hit the delete button.

“Michael, Greg again, this is really frustrating, you need to call me, we need to get together to discuss this, you’ve got two weeks til the start of the trial, get back to me.”

Delete.

“Michael, I have called you both at you’re apartment in L.A, I’ve tried calling you at Neverland, I have called your mother, I don’t know how else to get a hold of you, you need to get in contact, your time is running out. If you don’t turn up to this trial, you’ll go to jail, no questions as-“

Delete.

I felt my blood pressure rising. Today would be the day that I’d call him, I told myself bravely.

“Michael, three days. You’ve got five days. I know you’re out and about, I’ve seen you on the damn news. You call me back!”

I breathed in deeply. I knew I’d have to face it. I didn’t want to, but I had to.

I blocked it out of my mind. I was good at that.

I poured tea and added a tiny bit of milk like Malania liked. I took it back downstairs to her along with my glass of water.

I switched the air on when I got back to my room. Malania was still sleeping with her back to the doorway, cuddled up under the blankets. She didn’t stir when I kicked my foot on the side of the bed.

I cursed and tried to breathe through the pain. I placed the tea down and the glass of water down and slid beneath the covers, turning the television on. She stirred a little bit and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. I couldn’t help but to smile as the pain in my foot eased. 

I half sat up, propping my pillow behind my head and took a few sips of water before putting the glass down.

Malania grunted at the sound of the television. I turned to her and stroked the tangle of dark hair. “Are you awake?” I asked gently. It was a rhetorical question. I knew she was awake, but I knew she wasn’t planning on waking up any time soon.

“No,” she grunted back at me.

“Yes….” I replied, teasingly, sliding down beside her. “Wake up…. It’s early! We should seize the day!”

“Shut up,” she muttered, “you’re too loud, let me sleep.” She lifted the pillow from under her and pulled it down aggressively over her head.

I laughed and left her to it for a little while as I continued watching the television. Finally, around 8am Malania peeked out at me from under her pillow. “Hey…” she smiled.

“Hi honey…” I greeted her. I leaned over and kissed her forehead as she relaxed back down. “How did you sleep?”

“Laying down…” she joked weakly, making us both laugh.

“I got you some tea, it might be cold now, but you wouldn’t let me wake you up earlier…” I told her.

She smiled at me, “thanks, I’m sorry, I was just tired…”

“That’s okay sweetheart,” I replied, “would you like me to go get you another cup?”

“No…” Malania shook her head, easing herself up. “I’m okay, I think I might get up and go for a walk…”

“Oh, okay…” I sat forward wondering if I’d done something wrong. She didn’t seem bothered nor did she seem upset, but sometimes I couldn’t be sure. She pulled the covers back, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

Malania got up and circled around to my side. “But good morning to you, gorgeous…” she kissed my lips softly.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she promised with a smile that was basically covering a lie. I didn’t know how else to press the issue so I let her go. I felt conflicted for a moment and a little confused, but I decided to give her a little bit of space. I found that sometime she needed it. It was a little bit frustrating since she wasn’t always consistent in her moods, but I knew she was still adjusting.

I sighed as I heard my bedroom door close behind her.

**

I spent some time in my little studio inside the house. I had an actual studio in its own part of the property, but I needed something I could go to inside in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep.

Kaito wasn’t anywhere to be found, so I could only guess that he and Malania had caught up somewhere.

I felt a bit troubled, but I decided to pour all of those conflicting feelings in to the song that I’d been working on.

All the time away from the spotlight reminded me of how much I couldn’t wait to get back to normal, back to work, back to my fans.  Despite the craziness and how busy I get, I missed it.

I didn’t miss the media, I never did, but I certainly missed the making and playing music to the world. And dancing, I hadn’t danced in about a month and I knew it was beginning to take its toll on me. Dancing kept me agile and flexible and it was such a good stress relief.

My shoulders and back was so knotted up from all the weeks without physical activity.

Just as I got comfortable, the phone rang. It was the extension from the security shack; every damn time, I thought.

“Yes?” I picked up.

“Mr. Jackson, your attorney, Mr. Philburn has arrived, he would like to see you.”

“Tell him I’m not here,” I told Alfred, feeling panic arise, sitting at the back of my throat. I promised today would be the day I would deal with it, I reminded myself.

“Mr. Jackson he says he will not leave until you see him.”

Today couldn’t be the day. I swallowed hard. I wasn’t ready. I wouldn’t- no, I couldn’t.

“Why can’t everyone just leave me alone!?” I asked him erratically, “Damn it, Alfred, how does he even know I’m here?” I was aware that I was starting to sound exactly like the way people mimicked my voice. You know, the whole Mickey Mouse thing…

“I’m sorry Mr. Jackson, he said he just followed news crews, but he seems pretty serious. Do I need to call the authorities to make him leave?”

“No…” I murmured, “no, just… tell him I can’t see him right now, tell him I’ll… I’ll call him later, yes….” I nodded, stalling and trying to sound confident; “I’ll give him a call tonight.”

“Okay boss, I’ll tell him. Sorry to bother you.”

“That’s okay, Alfred, thanks…” I hung up the phone and wiped my clammy hand on my t-shirt. My heart was racing. I didn’t have the capacity to deal with any more of this shit.

I couldn’t think about it. Malania is all I wanted to think about.

Just as I felt the colour coming back to my face, the phone rang again. I almost didn’t pick it up, but I was worried it could be one of Malania’s family members.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Jackson, I’m sorry to bother you again, but Mr. Philburn is refusing to leave, he says it is urgent and that you’ll have to call the police to make him leave.”

I tried to stammer for something to say, but I couldn’t. With a sinking feeling in my chest and the words as heavy as led, I spoke them, “let him in…”

I felt the anxiety consuming me as I made my way down the stairs with weighted footsteps.

**

“Michael!” Greg started the second that he saw my face. I knew he was angry—furious even. I was sheepish, child-like in my guilt. I knew I’d done the wrong thing by him, but I still couldn’t bear to hear anything more about the case.

“Greg—I can’t do this right now…” I blurted out, trying to make excuses for my ignorance. “I’m busy, I’ve got-“

“Michael, I don’t give a fuck what you’ve got going on, right now!” Greg blew his temper. I was glad Malania was out of the house, Kaito too. I couldn’t stand for him to speak to me like that, but I couldn’t stand to call him out for it because I knew I deserved it.

“I’m sorry, I jus-“

“I have called you and called you and called you, over and over! How do you think it looks for me when my fucking client won’t pick up his phone? And then what do you know, shows up all over the town, on the news, getting in to fights at bars? What the hell is going on?!”

“I-I-don’t know…” I felt like a kid being admonished by my father. I felt myself detaching from the situation and shrinking in to myself.

From the front door, the two of us had migrated to the living area just off from the foyer. I felt myself sinking in to the couch.

“You don’t know what?” he exploded, “you need to man-up and face this, Michael! It’s been almost two months!”

“I can’t…” I spoke desperately, my words sputtering out, miraculously keeping my tears at bay for the moment. I couldn’t help it, avoidance was my plan and I knew I could only avoid it for so long, but good heavens, how the fuck was I honestly supposed to deal with the world thinking I was a paedophile. “I don’t want to…it’s not fair.”

“It isn’t fair,” he said sternly, “you’re right about that, Michael, but how do you like the idea of jail time for something you haven’t done?” he pressed me.

When I didn’t answer, he raised his voice, “Well? Do you? Does the idea of going to jail appeal to you?”

“NO!” I shouted, finally. The idea, quite frankly made my pulse quicken and made my throat close up and the breathing that I was trying to do became very difficult.

“Well grow up! Stop avoiding me! Do you know how many clients I chase up like this?” he asked, standing there before me in his grey suit without a tie. He had just set down his brief case beside him.

Greg was a good guy, I knew he was just so furious because he believed in me, but why couldn’t he just fight my battle for me? Law wasn’t my specialty. Although, it should have been, given the amount of times I’d had my ass dragged to court over ridiculous claims.

“No…”

“None, Michael, none. I will not chase you up again. Next time, you can find yourself a new fucking attorney. I won’t be part of this little charade, or whatever it is that you’re trying to pull!”

“I’m not trying to pull anything…” I murmured in a soft voice. “I just want it to go away.”

It seemed as though my meekness just set him off in to an explosion of rage.

“I CANT HELP YOU IF YOU DON’T HELP YOURSELF!” he shouted down at me aggressively. “Spend LESS time messing about with that fan, Michael, and concentrate on the fact that you could be going to jail for a VERY long fucking time if you don’t pay attention!”

That was it for me. The idea of jail; spending a long time in jail was just the last straw. I brought my knees up under my chin and covered my ears. I wasn’t aware in the moment just how ridiculous I looked, nor did I really give a fuck that my attorney was witnessing me having a meltdown, but I couldn’t stop.

“I can’t go to jail…” I could barely speak.

In through the nose, out through the mouth, I tried to remind myself as I felt my heart race.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t sit and hear about all the awful things that I’d supposedly done to this poor child. I couldn’t endure a trial and at the end of it, go to jail, no way, not me. It had to end. What if I went to jail? What if I actually went to jail? I’d never survive. I was too much of a sissy for that, my father had actually said that to me at some stage – and even if he hadn’t, we all knew it. I would be killed. Someone would kill me…

I went through all the different scenarios, all of them ended with me face down on tiles with blood seeping out of my body at the hands of some kind of prison boss.

I wasn’t a man, I couldn’t man up, along with the accusations, those people had dehumanised me, stripped me of everything that I was. They’d stolen my spark; my shine. They’d reduced me to this crazy manchild that sat before his attorney, crying his eyes out – pretending only to be tough in the eyes of a girl who for whatever reason, had every faith in me. 

“Michael, LISTEN to me!” Greg yelled, trying to get my attention, to pull me out of the nightmare playing out in my mind.

Everything I had purposely blocked out for weeks came flooding back. My fears, my memories with Casey, my hurt, my anger, it all came rushing at me. “Stop yelling at me…” I told him repeatedly even though no one was yelling at me anymore.

He stood before me awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

I buried my face in my hands and sobbed uncontrollably until I couldn’t breathe. He kept telling me it was okay, he apologised, and I heard the word ‘sorry’ mentioned over and over again.

“I don’t want to go to jail,” I told him. “I can’t go to jail. Please don’t let me go to jail, they’ll kill me…Make it go away”

I zoned in on my own obsessive thoughts of jail, the word paedophile emblazoned upon my skin and the fact that I was as good as dead if that happened, I kept thinking, as good as dead. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t stop sobbing. It was instant, the trigger of jail time, it wasn’t something that I realistically considered might happen – it was far too surreal, but something about his yelling and screaming and his urgency to speak to me – it made it all a very real possibility.

I felt two arms around me but knew well enough that they were not Greg’s.

Malania.

“Michael, it’s okay…” she told me softly. She molded herself around me, pulling me in toward her. “I love you, it’s okay, we are not going to let you go to jail. None of us are, not Greg, not me, not Kaito – not your family – we are going to prove your innocence and we are all going to be there to see that…”

I felt weak and pathetic but still, I couldn’t stop and I’d never felt more ashamed of myself. It was one thing to lose it before Greg, but to lose it before Malania was another thing. She was the one who believed in me as a man and here she was, sat beside me trying to pry my hands from my ears, kissing the crown of my head and cuddling me like I was a child in her care.

“Ms. Nakamura,” he began, “I know this is a stressful time for the both of you with what you’ve got going on-“

“Wait a second,” she spoke up, “firstly, you have no right to scream at him, he’s not a child,” her voice was strong and irate with a take-no-shit tone, “and secondly, I’m not ‘just a fan’, so you can quit that, I’m his girlfriend and I don’t deserve to be patronised, nor does he.”

“Well that’s all well and good, Malania and I apologise for my anger, it was not my intention to come here and upset anyone, or patronise anyone, but you’ll have to understand my situation; your boyfriend has been avoiding my phone calls and visits for weeks and if I don’t sit down and debrief him on his own case he will have no idea what’s happening. And if he keeps avoiding this, he’s going to miss his own opening and he’ll end up in jail for contempt.”

“What?” Malania seemed confused, “what do you mean?” her voice went up a few octaves in surprise, “Michael?” she questioned me as though I was dealing well enough to respond. “Michael gave me a run down of the conversation that he had with you last week—“ she told him.

“I think you and your boyfriend need to talk. I’m going to give you guys an hour. I’m going outside to make a few phone calls and I’ll come back in and Michael, I’m sorry that this is awful for you and I understand why you are so upset, but I need you to pull yourself together when I get back.”

He didn’t allow her to speak another word. I heard footsteps move away and a door close.

Malania sat silently beside me, rubbing my back, running her fingers through my curls, allowing me the time it was going to take to calm down.

“Just breathe, Michael…” she coached me.

I wiped my eyes but didn’t dare lift my head for fear of coming face to face with her and possibly Kaito too.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I heard her brother’s voice, picking up quickly that he had just walked in, “what’s with all the yelling?”

“Michael?” I heard him coming closer.

“Kaito, it’s fine…” Malania spoke, “I think you just need to give us a few minutes.”

“What happened?” he demanded to know, “is everything okay?”

“Everything is okay.” Malania replied, “just please, give us a few minutes alone.”

Footsteps, leaving the room again.

“Michael, I love you so much, I can’t have you dedicating your own life to me and then pretending that you’re fighting for your own, only to find out that you’ve given up…”

She lifted my head from her shoulder. I lowered my eyes, feeling so full of shame and humiliation.

“Michael, please look at me…”

“Malania, I can’t do this…” I whispered.

“Yes you can,” she insisted, “we can do this. Together.”

I slowly met her gaze. I felt relieved when I didn’t find judgment or disappointment on her face, just love and understanding and… concern.

“Sweetie, you didn’t need to lie about this to me, we could have talked about it. You could have shared your feelings with me… Greg is right, you have to face this. The more information you have, the better your fighting chance will be. You said you didn’t want him to blind-side you, but you’re doing it to yourself.”

I knew they were right, but I didn’t know how to not panic.

“I am just… so… so scared,” I murmured, trying hard not to break down again. “What if I lose everything?”

“You’re innocent, Michael, I think Diane knows it too, but with Greg and his team’s help, we are going to find out who is responsible for hurting Casey and clear this mess up.”

I could only hope she was right.

Chapter 55 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

I think there are some triggers in these next few chapters, so if you are easily triggered by abuse, sexual or other, please refrain from reading this chapter. 

Chapter 55


I couldn’t fathom it - Michael lied to me. I was upset with him, yes, but I couldn’t worry about that at the minute. It was all too much to take in.


He had calmed down a little bit, but he was still shaky with anxiety.


I felt for him and tried not to show how upset I was with him. I got up from the couch and forced him up as well. “Come on, Michael, you need to calm down so that we can sit down with Greg and hear what he has to say.”


“No…” he shook his head trying to hold his tears back. “I can’t, Mal…” he had given up pretending and now he stood before me looking completely destroyed.


“Yes, come on…” he was saying no, but he was following me to his room to head in to his bathroom. I led him in to the sink and found a washcloth.


I hadn’t been in his bathroom before; I wasn’t all that surprised to find it in a complete mess. I turned on the faucet and let the water warm. Michael sank down on to the closed toilet seat. I soaked the cloth and handed it to him. “Here, wipe your face off, just relax, okay?”


He didn’t say anything; he simply took the cloth and buried his face in it.


“C’mon, Michael, look inside yourself and pull out that Jonathan Livingston Seagull self-belief shit that you always credit with helping you think positively. Visualise how you can turn this thing around.  If you can tell me to do that stuff, then I know you know enough to do it yourself.”


I heard him half-sob and half-laugh which I knew was something.


“Do you think I’m going to let you go to jail, Michael? Not a fucking chance. I will beat the living shit out of every person Casey has ever encountered to find out who really did this.”


When he didn’t respond, I continued.


“Kaito? He’ll take on the LAPD and the Sheriff with his bare hands to make sure nothing happens to you. You’re going to be fine. Greg is going to come in here, he is going to tell you what you need to know, you’re going to get that famous Michael Jackson camp back together again and you are going to show them not to fucking mess with you ever again.”


I heard him take a deep breath. He wiped his face and pulled the cloth from it. His skin was blotchy from his tears. My heart hurt for him, but I needed to be the strong one this time.


“I’ll be with you. I’ll hold your hand. Kaito can be there too, if you want.”


“Okay,” he murmured in agreement. “Okay then…”


“Okay,” I confirmed, “you have a shower and you’ll feel better and I’ll go and get Greg, I’ll tell him to come in and I’ll see what Kaito is up to.”


**


“I’m sorry if I appeared rude to you Malania,” Greg apologised, “I’ve just been really frustrated trying to chase after him.”


“That’s okay,” I replied meekly, placing a cup of coffee before the attorney. “I didn’t know that you hadn’t had any contact with Michael. If I had, I would have encouraged him to touch base with you.”


Kaito came in to the dining room and sat down at the table opposing Greg. I asked him to be there for help supporting Michael.  I knew that he could act rationally and to not let emotions come in to play – something I needed as I felt like a mess of emotions inside.


“Kaito…” he extended his hand to Greg, “I’m Malania’s older brother and friend of Michael’s.”


“Nice to meet you, you’re the trouble-maker from the bar…” Greg said with a little bit of humour.


“In the flesh.” Kaito smiled, “but honestly, the dude called Michael a paedophile and I couldn’t help myself, the media never reported that part of it.”


“No,” Greg shook his head, “they didn’t.”


We all looked up, feeling Michael’s presence in the room. He still looked sad and broken, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. His jaw was set in a hard line as if he were clenching it tightly.


“Thanks for joining us, Michael,” this time Greg’s tone was much more gentle. Michael said nothing and sat down next to my brother. He buried his head in his large hands, ignoring all the paperwork that his attorney had laid out in separate piles.


“Okay, lets get started…”


“Before you start…” Michael began quietly, lifting his head as if it weighed a tonne, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to the three of you. I’m sorry for trying to avoid you, Greg… Mal, Kaito… I’m sorry for lying about the information.”


“So wait,” I spoke up, “all those things you told me that Greg said about the evidence, it’s not true?” I asked, eyeing my partner and then the lawyer.


He just shook his head and then shrugged. “It was my educated guess.”


“So, the DNA – you don’t know where it came from, you don’t know that she’s being coached? God, Michael… you didn’t need to friggin’ lie…”


I sighed. Kaito was eyeing me as if to tell me to shut up. I glared at him right back.


“I’m sorry, I just… didn’t want you to worry, and I … I didn’t want to worry.”


“So what’s the real story…” I asked Greg, feeling irate.


“We have a lot to go through today, guys, the opening arguments begin on Tuesday morning so we don’t have the luxury of time.  It might take awhile to cover all bases, so be patient with me,” he replied to the three of us.


“Is Casey okay?” Michael asked softly.


It really bothered me that all he seemed to care about at times was the welfare of that little girl. All it seemed to get him in to was trouble. It wasn’t even worth it.


“Yes, she’s okay. Health wise, she needs a kidney, but you knew that, Michael, nothing has changed regarding her health.”


Michael went back to covering his face with his hands. I saw Kaito pat him on the back as if he were trying to comfort him.


“What we’re most concerned about is the level of DNA evidence they appear to have. Have you seen any of the news reports?”


We all nodded.


“The evidence hearing was three days ago, Michael,” Greg explained, “they have DNA evidence of semen that they claim was found in Casey’s room as well as hair and skin particles.”


Michael looked up and made a face that was disgust mixed with horror. “What, they think I –“ he looked like he could be sick. “This isn’t happening…” he murmured more to himself. “Do you think I did this?” he asked Greg in monotone.


“No,” Greg replied unflinchingly, “The only reason why I’ve spent the past four weeks chasing your ass, Jackson, is because I truly believe in your innocence.”


At least that was a relief for us.


“Did you, at any point have sex with Diane in Casey’s room?” he asked my boyfriend point-blank.


The idea of Michael having sex with that woman in a child’s bedroom made me feel a little bit sick.


Michael was silent for a few moments but shrugged. “Not that I recall… why would I have sex in the child’s room?” he asked, propping his face up on his elbow, “that’s just weird.”


“I’m trying to think of a way to defend their findings, that’s all.” Greg replied.


He thought a little bit more. We all waited silently for him to come to any kind of recollection. “The only thing… I can think of….” his voice was slow and exhausted, “Casey used to curl up on the couch with the blanket from her bed… she slept in our bed a lot too, maybe she left her blanket out on the couch and we might have done something on top of it… I don’t know…” he seemed frustrated and troubled by the idea.


“Quite frankly, Michael, I’m not entirely concerned about the findings like hair and skin in her bed, you were a father-figure, you both cared for a sick child who was often bed-ridden, I think it would have been odd to find nothing, but the bodily fluid – that’s one we’re going to have to really get a straight argument on.”


He nodded solemnly as if agreeing.


Diane claims that she spoke to Larry Berkowitz when she had an immediate concern about Casey, he said that you were the only one with her for the days when she wasn’t around...”


Michael nodded and agreed with that. “I don’t know what Diane thinks, but I would never have left Casey with anyone. I’m not like that and I wouldn’t do that to Casey, I did my job and acted like a father to her, I didn’t pass off my responsibilities when she left me alone with her. I played with her, read her books, watched TV and tended to her when she needed anything. She even tried to call me “Dad”!”


“We’ve spoken to just about everyone who was around your camp and everything comes back clean. Everyone is consistent that you were always with Casey when she was left in your care, that you never left her side.”


“So right now it looks like I’m pretty guilty, I guess.” Michael mumbled. I watched him try to discreetly wipe away a tear. I reached for his hand.


“You have continually asked about Casey’s welfare and since everything has been finalised, I can give you the psychologist report. It is in her opinion that Casey’s behaviours are consistent with a short history of sexual abuse. She hasn’t spoken much but is confused by your role in her life. The psychologist went through some play-therapy strategies and she noted that Casey sees you as her saviour as well as a person that’s hurt her and upset her.”


He glanced down at some paper in front of him; “do you want me to read the report?”


He nodded. I braced myself.


“These findings, observations, and statements indicate that it is likely Casey is currently experiencing salient conflicting thoughts and feelings with regard to Mr. Jackson.  On the one hand, she may see him as a pseudo-father-figure who is someone she can go to for comfort. At the same time, she often became teary-eyed when he was mentioned by this author and would become non-responsive when asked directly about any sexual misconduct by Mr. Jackson”


Michael never said anything else. He just continued to wipe some tears from his eyes and I felt awful for him.


“What’s their case, exactly? When do they think this alleged abuse took place?” Kaito asked, finally speaking up, “has she been coached, or what?”


“Its hard to tell, honestly,” Greg replied, “because her lack of words are holding her back. Each time Michael’s name is brought up, she falls to silence or her interest piques as if she expects he may walk through the door.”


“So let me get this straight – based on one scorned ex-lover’s accusation, some medical reports and a shady half-assed accusation from a five year old, Michael is looking at becoming categorized as a convicted paedophile?!”


I heard Michael choking back a gag. I rubbed his back and reminded him to breath, but was also reminding myself.


“And the DNA on her bedding.”


“Fuck that,” Kaito exploded angrily, “if someone rounded up all of the semen I’ve left in curious places, I’d be a convicted sex offender twelve times over---“


If it hadn’t been such a serious conversation I am sure I would have erupted in uncomfortable laughter. The sudden silence told me that I wasn’t alone in this reaction.


Greg drew in a deep breath, “This is a complex case, indeed…” he nodded, “I feel your frustrations, but what I want to do, is this; I’d like to highlight Diane’s jealous side. Michael, I know you said it wasn’t a big issue, but there is a consistency among your employees that her jealousy was a very real part of the relationship. It appears to be a well known perception that Diane wasn’t a fan of any female employees or your fans – that she was so incensed by your make up artist, that another bodyguard actually witnessed you both arguing over it in a hallway.”


Michael nodded.


“And Malania attested to the fact that Diane wasn’t a huge fan of her and her friends…”


I just chuckled. If I had a dime for every time that bitch snarled at us behind Michael’s back.


“We also have the records of your relationship with her – do you have any evidence of the pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage?”


“Yes…” Michael murmured. Kaito shot me a look as if questioning what they were talking about. I shook my head as if to tell him to leave it alone. “I have the sonogram pictures and … I’m sure my doctors can find the evidence of what happened later…”


“Okay, and then we can concentrate on the phone call you had with her in which she asked for another baby to help with Casey’s health.”


“The designer baby…” Michael added. “Yeah… I remember feeling really uneasy about that conversation.”


“Good, I want you to really document, in detail, that conversation. The sooner the better.”


“And Malania, we might need to call upon you, give a detailed statement on the record about what you can remember of Diane – if you were spoken to in any kind of wa-“


“No,” Michael spoke up firmly, “No, Malania is not a part of this. I won’t have her dragged through it.”


“Michael, it’s okay…”


“No, it’s not,” he said, looking up and making eye contact to show just how serious he was.


I said nothing else and let he and Greg argue about it. He won.


“I guess my concern is that regardless of how jealous and aggressive Diane may seem, it doesn’t change the fact that Casey was molested and right now I’m the prime suspect,” Michael explained to his attorney.


“I know, Michael,” he said, “and that’s why we are really trying hard to contact everyone… the prosecution has interviewed a lot of ex employees and Diane believes that at least one of them said that there has been talk amongst some of the former guards that suggest impropriety…”


“Yeah, I know about that,” he said, surprising me. “A couple of the guys used to think I was having sex with fans, younger ones… probably Malania and other fans like her… but it was just that I wanted to meet them. I’d request that they bring some up to my room – the ones that I knew and trusted. We’d just talk, hang out…” he sighed, “being on tour is incredibly lonely… I don’t really have friends, Greg, my fans… I made them my friends…”


There was a little part of me that wondered just how many female friends he had made like me. Deep down, I hoped that I was a little different. No – I knew.


“So, you never slept with any of them?” Greg asked to clarify.


There was some hesitance on Michael’s behalf, which made my stomach knot up. “No,” he said finally, “not while Diane was in the picture, of course not,” he answered.


I was incredulous inside, wondering if he’d made a habit out of sleeping with fans when he wasn’t in a relationship. The thought made me feel a bit sick.


“How long before Diane and after Diane did you sleep with fans?” Greg asked.


Michael glanced at me as if he were afraid of answering the question. “Just one, a long, long time back… way before Diane. I think it was during the Victory tour… maybe even the tour before that.”


I remembered he told me that his first time was sleeping with ‘some’ fan during my therapy session. I couldn’t help to wonder if that was who he was talking about.


“So no one else, not one single fan since?” Greg glanced at me pointedly, as if he were asking if he’d been sleeping with me.


It was awkward with Kaito sitting there expectantly, raising his eyebrow slightly.


“No.” Michael said firmly, “No one since, I don’t even care what Diane or previous security says, it’s a lie.”


“Michael,” Greg started a little more delicately, “one guard, Dirk, do you remember him?”


Michael seemed to consider it for a moment, squinting as if it would jog something inside his brain. “Yeah, sometimes I gave them nicknames cos I am pretty awful at remembering names – I know that sounds really arrogant,” he added as if he were worried he’d sound rude. “But, I think he was a guy we called “Oscar…” he smirked, “cos he was so grouchy.”


“Well – Michael, Dirk was your guard for the early stages of the Asian side of Bad Tour-“


“I remember.”


I remembered, too. Dirk was an asshole. Once he roughly shoved me out of the way and told me to fuck-off. It was my one and only bad experience with anyone who worked for Michael.


“We spoke to just about everyone that the police spoke to and he said, well… he alluded to the fact that if there was misconduct with Casey, he said that he wouldn’t have been surprised to hear it was you because you had, and I quote, a ‘creepy infatuation with children’.”


Silence fell in the air so thick that none of us dared break it first. Michael stared at his hands. He truly looked as though he might be sick. He shook his head slowly as if denying it in all interiorly. I could tell by the way he was breathing that he was doing the exact same exercises he always reminded me to use when I was having an internal meltdown.


“It’s funny, the second you get a little bit of notoriety about you, everyone teeters on the edge of their seats anticipating your fall from grace,” he said in a quiet monotone, still intrigued by whatever it was about his skin of his hands that he stared at before him.


I was pretty sure I could piece together what he was thinking.


“Michael, a personal opinion is very different to what is a fact. He is not alleging that he saw anything untoward, but I also don’t know what kind of a witness he is going to be for the prosecution, so just be aware that he’s not in your corner,” Greg told him.


Michael didn’t respond. He eased back in to his chair. “Are we done here? I don’t think I can listen to more of this…”


“In a moment. I need to run a few things by you for the next few days,” the balding attorney told him as he got pulled out a run-sheet. “This is rough, but it’s a timeline of the events that I’ve put together; from your last time spent with Diane until now, and the next page is a run through of what to expect in terms of the trial and how things might progress from here.”


“Okay.” Michael took it but didn’t look at it. He placed it down on the table dismissively.


“You can do this Michael, you can do this. I believe in you. On Tuesday we will walk in to that court room with our heads held high and we’ll have a united front, I want you to get as many of your family members to turn up as possible.”


I was pretty sure I heard him scoff at the idea.


“Seriously, you want the press to know that everybody is on your side.”


“Yeah, okay,” he repeated.


“Don’t avoid my calls again,” Greg told him in a friendly but firm way. Even though his tone wasn’t cold or nasty, he still gave off the vibe that he wasn’t to be messed with.


**


“Don’t-“ Michael said to me as soon as Greg left. I hadn’t said anything, I hadn’t motioned to do anything, I had simply looked at him.


“Don’t, what?” I asked innocently, widening my eyes and staring at him expectantly.


He couldn’t look at me. “Don’t apologise to me, don’t tell me it’s going to be okay, don’t try to comfort me… I need to be alone and you need to get Kaito to drive you to see Raia.”


Shit.


Outpatient care was the pits. I was thankfully able to see Raia at her private office and wouldn’t have to venture back to Willow Blue.


“I don’t have anything to apologise for,” I said curtly. I figured if he was going to freeze me out, I had equal right to be angry, given that he had been lying to me for the past month and then some.


He looked hurt and gave me a reproachful stare, finally meeting my eyes.


I wasn’t going to let him be spiteful toward me just because he was upset. “Don’t look at me like that, Michael, I’m trying to be supportive to you but if you want to be alone, that’s fine, there’s no need to be mean to me though.”


He tried to stare me out, but I raised an eyebrow at him as if to tell him that I was proving my own point. He dropped it and sighed, mumbling an apology.


“We’re not done. I’m going to see Raia today and I’ll give you your space, but you and I? We need to talk…” I told him.


He didn’t say a word. He headed off, padding his way down the hallway and to his bedroom.


**


“I don’t know why he lied and I’m trying to be sympathetic, but it’s frustrating,” I explained to Raia.


“Do you think that perhaps after Michael realised that you were under so much stress at Willow Blue with your family circumstances and so on, he tried to keep his own problems at bay to protect you?” Raia suggested, looking at me over her glasses.


“Yeah, absolutely,” I agreed, “but it’s no excuse. I’ve told him in the past not to try to protect me. I can make my own decisions about what I can handle and what I can’t. It’s hurtful that he lied to me.”


As much as I had denied myself in the past, I found myself surprisingly comfortable within the confines of the private walls of Raia’s off-site practice. It was good to be able to just talk without the concern of anyone else’s feelings.


“Remember,” Raia reminded me, “the best way to communicate with Michael is to approach subjects in a non-accusing way, and you can allow him to know you’re hurt without yelling or raising your voice-“


I nodded and looked out the window. Her office overlooked a huge, green park that sprawled out for yards. It was very pretty. There was a little part of me that wanted to take a walk, but I had to be careful, I thought almost begrudgingly, my life was currently inside a fish bowl.


“I know and I don’t want to make what he’s going through worse. I think giving him his space is the best idea until he feels ready to talk about it all – I know he’ll come round.”


“Good,” she nodded. “Just remember that you have a tendency to keep things inside to an extent that is not healthy for you. How do you feel about everything else right now?”


I shrugged, “I’m currently a bit numb to it all, honestly.” I leaned back in the leather chair and peeled my glance away from the window and looked back at my shrink. “If I don’t think about it, it’s not happening. Neverland is the best place for that.”


“Save for what happened this morning, how are you and Michael getting along now that you are ‘free’?” she used air quotes over her head and gave me a little smile.


“Good, actually – my brother is being a bit of a drag, he thinks it’s his place to give us the third degree about sex,” I scoffed at the thought, “it’s a bit annoying, I kind of wish he’d buzz off and go back to stay with my Mama and Dad.” I admitted, feeling good for saying it out loud. I hadn’t even said it to Michael, fearful of his reproach. “Is that selfish?” I asked, a little more subdued.


“No,” Raia smiled at me, “brothers can be pests, but I’m sure Kaito is just trying to protect you, would you agree with that?”


I nodded, “Bit late though, which I’m trying so hard not to say out loud, but dammit, if I want to sleep with my boyfriend, I’m almost 23, I have the right to make that choice with or without Kaito’s approval.”


“You do,” Raia agreed, “and maybe that’s a conversation you need to have with him.”


“I’ve had it,” I told her, “we kind of came to a middle ground, but he walked in on Michael and I making out and he got all funny. He acted like a disgruntled parent,” I was able to laugh at it now. “He and Michael had a word about it, but I’m not entirely sure what was said…”


I tucked my legs beneath me, getting comfortable. Raia was about to say something when I cut her off. “I think I want to have sex with Michael.” The words seemed to fall out of my mouth without me thinking them; without filtering them as I usually would have.


“Okay,” Raia nodded stoically. If I surprised her with my admission, she didn’t show it. “Let’s talk about that… do you feel like its something that is going to happen immediately – or?”


I shrugged, “I’m not sure, I mean, if I can, I just kinda want to. I trust him and I love him.”


“Have you gotten close to that point?” she wondered.


“Not really,” I admitted, “I mean, we kiss and we both get a bit passionate, but he is trying really hard to be good – everything is PG. We slept in the same bed last night, it’s not the first time we’ve shared a bed, but the last time, we weren’t together, we were just hanging out.”


Raia smiled, “Do you feel comfortable in those intimate occasions with him?”


I thought about it and nodded. “I mean, I’m not naked by his side in bed or anything, but I don’t feel self-conscious. Maybe when I’m dressed down and before him, it might be a different story, maybe I won’t be as brave as I feel when we’re just keeping it all above the belt.”


“Well, Malania, you have certainly come a long way from when we started chatting- remember?”


I smiled, thinking of how I entered the room back at Willow Blue, hating Raia simply for existing. “Yeah, I guess I have – but I know I still have a long way to go.”


“Yeah,” Raia agreed, “but its okay to just stop where you are and take stock and be proud of how you’ve grown and just how well you are communicating with me and with everyone else in your life.”


I found my smile growing. “Thanks Raia.”


We chatted until my session was over. She suggested some ways that I could help Michael cope with his stress. We discussed my family and my next visit with them as well and lastly, we went over my time in Willow Blue, discussing who I had shared private information with and who had the most access to my things.


I was still pretty sure Clair was to blame. It was Clair or Cassie, or possibly both. It didn’t really matter to me anymore, the damage was done, everyone knew, moving forward was the only way to get past it. 

End Notes:

So, I've worked really hard on these next few chapters (forgoing my actual work, tbh lol), so please let me know what you think even if you dont regularly comment. I am really curious to know your reactions...

<3 

Chapter 56 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

If you are easily triggered by drug abuse or physical abuse both sexual or other, please skip this chapter. 

Chapter 56

I felt numb.

I wasn’t entirely sure that what I was doing wouldn’t cause an issue between Malania and I, but I had to get away. It was self-destructive and self-sabotaging, but I didn’t want her to see me the way that I was. I knew it would hurt and anger her even more.

I took two pills and chased it down with a shot of whisky. It wasn’t like me, alcohol usually wasn’t my thing, but it was left from Kaito’s visit, and whatever it took to wash that shit down and work faster, was alright by me.

As I lay my throbbing and quickly-dizzying head onto a pillow on my Hidden Hills bed, I had short flashes of my moments with Casey, then Diane, and then lastly, Malania. As the cocktail took control, they began to mesh in to one odd lucid dream.

I squeezed my eyes shut and saw Casey sitting in her hospital bed looking miserable. She quietly drew on some stark-white paper with some fat crayons while her other hand was encumbered by an intravenous tube feeding the chemotherapy poison in to her tiny, weak little veins.

Diane wasn’t anywhere to be found, but Casey didn’t seem to care. She was focused on her picture. She did always love to draw.

“Babyheart…” I spoke quietly at the doorway from where I had been watching her.

She looked up and her face began to glow with excitement. It was always the look that set my heart on fire for her. I loved that kid so much. The security guard, Stretch, as I liked to call him was trailing behind me closely and I knew that the hallway was filled with people trying to get a look in to see Michael Jackson. That was the hard part about being there for Casey during her doses; not that it made things impossible, just difficult.

I made my way over to her bedside and Stretch pulled the door closed most of the way so people weren’t able to gawk. “Where’s Mommy?” I asked her, picking her up from the bed, careful not to tangle or upset the tube connected to the IV.

Casey simply shrugged. I looked down at the paper, “Wow-wee, that’s a great drawing, why don’t you tell me about it?”

“I drawed it for you, Mike,” she told me with a little smile. I hugged her to my chest and stroked the soft fuzz of hair that was slowly starting to grow back. Not for long though, I thought.

I kissed her crown. “Thank you, baby, that is one of the most beautiful drawings I’ve ever received,” I told her. “But it looks unfinished, are you going to finish it for me?”

Casey nodded and smiled again, showing me her tiny little baby teeth.

It was her first treatment of this new round. One of her kidney’s had been removed; she had just recovered nicely from it, showing off her new scar to just about any doctor or nurse passing by as though she were proud.

She was quiet and shy around just about anyone except her Mom, myself, and the doctors and nurses. She barely spoke a single word to anyone else.

One of the chemotherapy nurses that we were used to, a kind-eyed brunette, slipped past Stretch, letting herself inside. She was holding a bag full of fluid for the IV. She flashed me a smile and said hello. She glanced at Casey, “Hi honey!” she greeted her enthusiastically, “I have your medicine here!”

I couldn’t remember the nurse’s name. I didn’t always show up to the chemotherapy days, some days the difficulty wasn’t worth the stress. The nurse wore a blue protective smock with white gloves and a pair of plastic glasses, reminding me just how potent of a liquid was inside that bag, travelling through to Casey’s veins.

“Isn’t it already going?” I asked, nodding toward the bag of translucent fluid that was almost empty.

“No, Mr. Jackson, that’s just saline, we always start by flushing her veins and then we do the chemo,” she explained.

“Oh, right…” I nodded. “Do you know where Casey’s Mom got to?”

“She said she needed to take a break, she’d be back soon,” the nurse replied, “so Casey was drawing a picture.”

After such a shit-storm of an argument about my leaving for the tour on the day that Casey was resuming treatment, I could help but feel irritated that she wasn’t here for Casey. In the early hours of the morning, I had called Larry and demanded that he change my flights so I could leave in the evening. It would have cut my jet-lag rest time a bit shorter, but Diane had been right, if Casey was truly the priority in my life that I claimed her to be, it was unfair to not be there for at least the first treatment.

But where the hell was Diane? She was such a hypocrite some days.

I tried to understand where her head was at, but she had become even more of a basket case since the miscarriage. I told her a little aggressively the night before that she needed to pull her shit together. It wasn’t unfair, she called me out when I was being silly, that was the responsible thing to do when you loved someone, not pander to their bullshit.

At least that’s what she kept telling me.

“Stretch?” I called. He was standing on the other side of the door. He popped his head in.

“Yes, boss?”

“Could you please look for Diane? I can only stay here an hour or so before we have to leave for LAX,” I explained.

“You gonna be okay here?” he asked me.

“Yes, I don’t think Casey or her nurse is a great threat,” I joked with a roll of my eyes. Stretch flashed me a smile and closed the door and left to see if he could find her.

“I hear you’re off on tour, Mr. Jackson,” the nurse sparked up conversation with me as she changed Casey’s IV bag. I didn’t mind casual conversation with a young, attractive nurse; I was only human.

“Yeah, I begin in London in two days,” I informed her, “I’m heading out tonight-“ I glanced at her nametag and it dawned on me, her name was Judy.

“There you go, Casey-Case, all done.” Casey looked up from where she was drawing on my lap. She glanced at the bag and then smiled at Judy. “And then I go?” she asked.

“Remember, we wait for this one, once it’s empty we’ll put a little bag of the clear one again and then it’ll be time for you to go home,” Judy reminded her in a soft-soothing tone, sitting down on the chair, giving it a moment to make sure the IV was flowing properly.

“Okay,” Casey accepted the explanation, “Daddy, will Mommy be back soon?”

I didn’t have to look at nurse Judy to know that she had lifted her eyebrow with surprise. I didn’t have the heart to tell Casey not to call me Dad in front of another person; it wasn’t in my heart to hurt her or to stop her from thinking of me in that way. It probably wasn’t the right thing to do, given Diane’s wishes, but I let it slide; I usually did when Diane wasn’t around.

I gave Judy a brief, sheepish smile. “Baby heart, I’m not sure where Mommy is, I’m sure she’s not too far, she might be getting herself something to eat.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll stay here with you until Mommy gets back,” I told her, kissing her crown again.

“Daddy, when you go on your big trip, we are going to come and visit?” she worded it as a question; it was something I had to constantly reassure her about.

“Absolutely, Case, as soon as I can, I’m going to put you and Mommy on a plane and you’re going to come visit with me-“ I nodded at her as the IV began beeping. Judy jumped up to press a few buttons and looked closely at the line to make sure the flow was right.

“Daddy,” Casey began again, “I don’t wa-“

“It’s Michael,” Diane told her daughter sternly as she walked in the room in front of Stretch. “I’ve told you,” she added and glared me, “and I’ve told you.”

I said nothing; I wasn’t about to get in to it with her in front of the nurse.

“I pushed back the flight,” I told her with a smile, ignoring her. She seemed frustrated and uninterested in the fact that I’d entirely changed my plans like she kept on me about.

“So I see,” she replied tensely, setting the coffee down. She glared at the nurse who had the good sense to leave us to our privacy.

“Mr Jackson, let me know if the machine beeps like it just did then, just press this call button,” Judy showed me the little call button behind the bed head.

“Thanks,” I flashed her a smile.

“I’m Casey’s parent, you don’t need to address him about her, thank you,” she commanded.

“I apologise Mrs. Hargrove,” the nurse’s cheeks flushed.

“It’s Miss, thanks.”

The nurse said nothing and I was a little aggravated by Diane’s blatant rudeness.

Once the door was closed, I waited for her to try to pick an argument with me. It was Diane’s style. She sniped and sniped until she was ready to lose her temper with me.

I refused to fight with her in front of my baby girl. I knew what it was like to witness parents fighting; I wasn’t about to pass that along.

“I thought you’d be happy,” I remarked, lifting Casey and popping her down beside me on the hospital bed, careful again not to interrupt her tubes.

“Congratulations, you fulfilled your obligations as a partner and a caregiver!” she threw up her hands with mock-enthusiasm.

Holy shit she was getting to be hard work. I wondered to myself when things changed. She hadn’t always been that hard to deal with. I was pretty sure losing the baby changed our relationship.

I wished that she had been able to understand that I lost a baby too.

I breathed in deeply. “I love it when you’re really warm and full of love and appreciation for me,” I remarked quietly and sarcastically.

“Michael, for goodness sake…”

“Stop,” I put my hand up to halt her, “just stop, I’m not up for a fight, not here, not in front of Casey, and not right as I’m about to leave for three months.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that last night-“

I was holding in my anger. “Diane, just stop!” I glared at her, my brown eyes piercing hers. I wasn’t about to let her win with this.

Casey tugged on my arm, looking alarmed, feeling the tension in the room. I immediately felt bad for having snapped. “Hi, sweetie.” I smiled, forcing myself to focus on her and let all of my frustration dissolve.

“I don’t want you to go…” she frowned, her mouth curling downward, souring her expression. It literally made my heart hurt. I knew she didn’t want me to leave, she had cried for a long time the night before.

“I don’t want to leave you either, baby heart, but I have to. I have to go away so I can give you and Mommy all the wonderful things that you want –“

I heard Diane scoff. “Don’t blame us…”

I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed in a deep breath. “Diane, honey,” I began, “I know you’re hurting over me leaving, but this is not a surprise, this is my job, you knew that when we met.”

She had nothing to say to that.

I saw tears filling Casey’s eyes and I felt awful. I lifted her in to my arms and cuddled her close to me. “I know, I know…” I soothed her, “I’ll call you on the phone every single day, sweetheart, I promise and then I’ll have you and Mommy visit me as soon as you’re feeling well.”

**

Pain rippled through me and woke me up from my half-sleep. I clutched my chest and winced, waiting for the pain to pass me and for the palpitations in my chest to stop.

Sometimes the Adderall caused my heart to feel so buzzed that it hurt.

I immediately sat up and realised there was no way I’d actually be able to sleep now.

I wondered what Malania was doing back at Neverland and if she and Kaito had figured out yet that I wasn’t there. I didn’t want her to worry, I knew she would, but I had assured her in my note that I would be fine and that she would see me in a few days – the first day of court.

I rubbed my eyes, not able to remember if the note was just an idea or if I had actually put pen to paper.

Should I call?

I considered it for a moment before nodding. “Yes,” I said out loud to no one. “I should call.” But, I forgot about the decision approximately two seconds after it passed through my brain.

Everything was a little fuzzy and so it was easy for me to concentrate on other stuff, memories and thoughts and feelings that seemed to stay with me, also for only seconds at a time—Adderall usually gave me focus, but something was off about it.

I found myself staring at myself in the mirror in the bathroom, touching my face, feeling disgusted with the reflexion. “I hate you,” I murmured.

My eyes lingered over my nose, my mouth, and my stupid lips… “I hate you,” I said again a little louder.

I wondered how things would look if my nose didn’t look as it did, or if my cheeks weren’t as full as they seemed now that I had grown so comfortable with Malania. I never held my weight well.

“I HATE YOU!” I yelled, my eyes filling with tears and spilling down my face without restraint. My reflection stared back with hollow, soulless and empty eyes, no feelings, no pain, no joy – no spark, just emptiness.

I became aware of my hand clutching something so tightly that it was starting to burn in to the pad of my palm. I looked down, opening up my fist to present the small, aluminium tray full of diazepam.

I couldn’t really remember how I got them now. I felt like I was hallucinating because I couldn’t quite tell if everything I was experiencing was reality. It began to make me feel a little paranoid. I couldn’t peel my eyes away from my sweaty palm full of pills.

I’d just need to take one and go to bed.

Just one; not like the bunch of Adderall I’d taken. I couldn’t remember how many now, but obviously it had been a bad idea. My heart wouldn’t stop thrusting against my rib cage, trying to leap out of my skin and run away down the street along with every tiny piece of tissue that still had Casey’s name engraved upon it.

I took a pill and cupped some water from the tap and washed it down.

I sat down on the edge of the hot tub beside the basin for a moment to try to collect my thoughts.

I’d taken too much. I worried for a few minutes that maybe I’d done something stupid, that perhaps I should call the paramedics. But no, then the whole world would know that Michael Jackson was a drug addict.

Fuck that. I would have preferred to overdose and finish myself completely than let the world think worse of me than they already did. They’d just see my demise as an admission of guilt.

“FUCK THAT!” I yelled angrily, flinching at the loudness of my own voice.

I got up, my legs felt like they weren’t attached to me anymore. I got up and headed to my bedroom. I laid myself down, wiping perspiration that was forming on my forehead. I didn’t bother with a shower. I tried to sleep again and committed myself to counting to ten over and over again to keep focus and not drive myself insane with hallucinations.

**

I woke up later, in the early hours of the morning feeling lethargic and rough. My face felt dry in the places where the tears had left their streaks. I felt a strong sense of shame and guilt over leaving Malania back at Neverland without so much of a word.

I knew she’d be furious with me and probably overwhelmed with concern for me. I considered calling her, but I wasn’t sure if she would even feel comfortable enough to answer my phone back there.

I knew what I was doing was irresponsible, but I didn’t want her to see me like this. I didn’t want my failings to rub off on to her, and cause her own patterns of self-destruction.

I saw the glint of the pills beside me and so I took another two with another little shot of whisky. It burned my throat as it went down, but the pain seemed to bring me a little bit of relief.

**

“I’m so over it, Diane, come on,” I clutched the phone tightly in my hand. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I told you I couldn’t do this alone, Michael, I told you!” Diane was sobbing down the line. I glanced down at the hundreds of fans camped out a couple of stories below. I had turned the lights out so that they would think that I was sleeping and the other hotel patrons would be able to get some sleep.

The last thing I needed was to get kicked out of yet another hotel.

I didn’t really know what I could do or say that would console her. “You did it alone before without me, sweetheart, you’re a strong woman, you got this…”

“I don’t. I can’t deal with you away. Casey can’t deal with you over there.”

The idea of Casey asking after me every day was painful. Hearing her cry each time Diane pried the phone away from her was heartbreaking – so heartbreaking that Diane had decided to put a stop to our nightly conversations.

I begrudged her for it. In fact, it didn’t help things; it just built resentment.

“I’m doing the best that I can,” I said quietly, rubbing my throbbing temple. “I miss you and I miss Casey like crazy. How do you think it makes me feel? Its like, all you do is think about yourself, Di, it makes me really sad.” I sank down on to the bed. “Do you ever consider me?

You’re the one who walked away!”

We had been arguing and going about in circles for almost half of an hour and I was just about done. “I didn’t walk away,” I spoke slowly and firmly. “I went to work!” I knew I was about to explode with frustration, “It’s not like I walked in to this relationship and then suddenly became famous and impressed that upon you and Casey… I can’t just give up everything; I’ve never asked you to give up a single thing, how is this even fair?”

I heard her sobbing again and I felt guilty. I wasn’t supposed to bring her sadness. “I love you…” I told her almost reluctantly, “I think this is just been hard cos we haven’t seen each other in almost two months…” my voice trailed off. “I’m going to be in Japan for the rest of the week and then Thailand, but… why don’t you and Casey join me in Hong Kong?”

“We can’t Michael, she’s too sick.”

“I’ll organise it. I’ll organise a doctor to accompany you guys on the flight, I know what she needs, Diane, it’s okay, let me handle it… just… come, okay? Leave this bullshit at home, come and enjoy Hong Kong – and us, let’s enjoy us – we haven’t spent any time with one another properly since DM.”

We hardly ever spoke about DM.

“I miss you…” she said softly. It was one of the first times she had been vulnerable with me. She was constantly building walls of defence between us. Each time I knocked one down another went up. It was exhausting and if I was going to be honest with myself, if it weren’t for Casey, I wasn’t sure if I wouldn’t have just walked away.

“It’s nice to hear you say that…” I murmured. “I miss you too. It’s pretty lonely out here. I would love to just hold you and Case in my arms again…”

“I’m sure the fans keep you company,” her voice had turned to ice. Ugh; insecurities. She made her remark in such a way that was double-edged. It was as though she believed that I slept with fans each night in my hotel room. I didn’t know when she expected I’d have that chance given we were on the phone almost every night, arguing til the early hours.

If I accused her of being jealous or insecure she would have defended her comment, saying that I took it the wrong way, that maybe I was defensive for a reason.

“Nope,” I said simply, “Larry and I spoke with some fans out front of the Hotel earlier, but it’s the same old, you know how it goes. Autographs, photos, more autographs, lots of screaming…” I sighed as if it all bored me.

Sometimes it did, but mostly I still loved all that adulation and excitement that my presence brought to people.

“What I really want is to be with people who know me. I’m sick of seeing Larry’s face to be honest with you…”

I heard Diane sigh, realising I wasn’t biting at her comment. “Michael, why is this so hard?”

“Life is hard, it’s unfair too, Di, but we can choose to live each day to the fullest or we can keep living life in misery, focusing on the ‘could bes’ and the ‘maybes’, but right now we need to just to be present in each day, enjoy each other and enjoy Casey… she’s still here, she’s still alive and full of beans, sweetheart…”

“I know…” her voice grew quiet.

I let the silence fall thick between us as I got up, lifting the phone and bringing it back to the bedside table. I pulled back the covers of the bed and got comfortable, holding the receiver against my ear with my shoulder until I settled in.

“Okay,” she said finally, “we’ll come to Hong Kong to see you…”

“Great,” I felt my lips upturn in to a smile. “I’ll organise it all and send you the information.” 

**

I picked up the phone to dial Neverland. I needed to be responsible; I needed to at least let Malania and Kaito know where I was. It was the right thing to do.

I found it hard to coordinate my fingers with the buttons on the phone. I paused, staring for the moment trying to organise my thoughts.

“Wait a second, wait a second…” I murmured to myself. I put the phone back in to the cradle and decide to consider it a little bit longer.

My skin felt itchy and as I looked down at the counter top at all the pills, I couldn’t remember which of them I’d taken. There seemed to be so many of them – or, perhaps my vision was just doubled. No, tripled.

Whatever.

I didn’t know how many days had passed, if it had been just a day since I’d seen Greg or if it was longer. I was too scared to turn on the television in case there was a warrant out for my arrest for missing the first day of court that I was apparently required to attend.

Court…

Oh God.

I’d barely made it to the bathroom when I began to vomit all over the place, heaving up every last bit of poison that filled my stomach. The stench of alcohol and stomach bile filled the air, rousing every last bit of remnants inside of me.

My head; it pulsated with pain that radiated right down to my neck. Each time I retched, it throbbed more.

I slumped against the white tiled wall beside the toilet bowl, too weak, in too much pain to move.

I brought my knees up to my chest and buried my head in my hands and began to cry; silently at first and then I felt myself releasing everything loudly with deep, heaving sobs.

If I had been able to think straight, I would have contacted one of my brothers and organised a way out of the U.S – to a country where I could settle and never have to go back and face the music; but in order to do that, I had to give up absolutely everything and if I had to do that?

I remembered the pills scattered all over the kitchen counter. Why not just take them all? I’d be giving up everything just the same.

Didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

I could hear the phone ringing out in the foyer of the apartment, but I was stuck. I couldn’t move. I didn’t care who it was anyway.

The pungent odour of my vomit lingered in the air and caused me to feel dizzy and nauseous all over again. I tried to get up, but I couldn’t. My legs felt too numb and my arms were like spaghetti.

Fuck it.

“Fuck you, Diane… Fuck you, Diane…Fuck…. You,” my voice sounded snarly and angry.

**

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been sitting there, but eventually I found feeling in my body again and got up and forced myself in to the shower to clean the vomit from my chin and neck.

I would deal with the rest of the mess later.

I made my way back to bed, passing back through the kitchen in a towel, discarding all of ideas of calling Malania or my brothers. Instead, I grabbed a Valium and plopped it in to my mouth.

I climbed in to bed and waited for the pill to work so I could dull all the stupid thoughts.

End Notes:

These next few chapters are a little sombre and it took a lot of energy to write them trying to capture the emotions. I am genuinely ready for some honest feed back with regards to this, so please let me know what you think in the reviews. Even if its harsh, I dont mind! lol (well, I'll mind, but I won't be mad, haha) I really want to know what everyone's reactions are to this turn of events. 

Chapter 57 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Lol, sorry for anyone who read chapter 58-- I missed posting chapter 57. Deleted chapt 58 ... again, poured my heart in to this one! Lemme know what you think! If you're triggered by drug use, suicide, cutting or any kind of abuse, please skip this chapter!

Chapter 57

I felt wrong rifling through Michael’s things, but I was worried. It was after midnight and he still wasn’t back. I looked for a note but so far hadn’t come across one.

I didn’t know where he might be. Through my tears, I searched his bedroom and looked for drugs or something that might point to the direction of where I might find him.

Kaito tried to calm me down, seeming nonplussed by the whole ordeal. He told me Michael probably went out for a drive to blow off some steam. But no, all the cars were there. Alfred was also there; he had no idea where Michael was or if he did, he wasn’t letting it on.

Carsen was only around if Michael needed him and I didn’t have a way to contact him.

Michael was an awful driver; I knew he wouldn’t have gone very far on his own. That brought me back to my first point though, all the cars were still there in the garage.

Kaito was out trying to appease me, searching the grounds of Neverland in the golf cart, looking for him.

I couldn’t place it but I had an awful feeling. I felt sorry for yelling at him and telling him off. I felt bad for leaving on a bad note earlier. I didn’t know what to do or who to call.

What if he had pulled something stupid? What if he decided to leave; to run from everything and everyone because he was too scared of what he had to face up to?

I understood that feeling. A couple of hours ago I would have been confident that he would never have done something so irresponsible, but in my manic search for him, I wasn’t really sure anymore.

I heard footsteps and closed my eyes hoping so much that it was Michael coming to find me, but I turned and found Kaito in the doorway.

“Mal, he’s not here… I searched everywhere and even had a chat with Alfred and another guy down in the security booth; Alfred admitted that he left earlier with Carsen—while we were in L.A. Don’t panic; Carsen is his bodyguard and will be looking out for him, okay? He’ll come back when he’s ready. He probably just needs some time.”

I dropped the papers that I was holding in my hand. It was just a mesh of words in random order; each page was a little more coherent than the previous until I found an almost perfectly formed song.

I just nodded wordlessly. Kaito took a couple steps inside Michael’s room where I was sitting on the bed. He kissed the crown of my head, realising I was deeply upset.

“He’s okay, I promise Mal, and he may be impulsive as hell, but he’s not an idiot.”

He didn’t know about Michael’s suicidal past. No one else did – just me. He didn’t know that I had every single cause for worry in the world; that I checked in the bathroom in his room for pills or any other place that looked like they might store them. I wanted to tell him so badly, to make him understand the cause of my panic, but to do so would mean breaking Michael’s trust.

“Try to get some sleep, k?” he added.

Kaito didn’t know I’d found an empty packet of Adderall and a half popped packet of Xanax… I kept them to myself, hid them in my own bag, making sure that if it came to the crunch, no one would know he was taking them unless I chose that it was important to share that information.

My brother left me to it when I didn’t respond to him.

My heart leapt in to my throat as I read the final draft. It had my name at the top of the page, written in his awful chicken scratch that I had teased him about in the past.

However, Michael could write neatly, it was evidenced in the perfect cursive that inked the lines below my name. I knew it had been for me. He told me he wrote many songs for me but most of them he felt too embarrassed to show me.

I wished that I had a melody for it, because I couldn’t summon one up.

Hello, August moon, where are the stars of the night?
You promised me too soon cos it’s been cloudy all night.
And the weatherman said, if you’re not well stay in bed…
Cos I’ve been feeling down and blue and it’s cloudy in my head.
Instead of going out to some restaurant, I’ll stay here with you…
And I’ll be loving you, that’s what I’m wanna do..
I’ll be lovin’ you…
Hello Midnight lover, you’re the one I adore,
I’ll be thinking of you forever til the stars are no more
If its cloudy or blue I’ll stay where with you
We’ll make a wish and then we’ll kiss, a love forever true
Instead of going out to some restaurant, I’ll stay here with you…
I’ll be loving you, that’s what I want to do…
It seems you don’t know that we’ve reached the highest mountain
Everytime I seem to disappear
And together we’ll fly, we’ll dance up in the heaven
I can really feel it when you’re near…

I wished I hadn’t read it. It felt intimate and beautiful and I couldn’t believe that he thought of us in that way. He had me on a pedestal – probably the same way I had propped him up on one too; but his leaving without telling me? I couldn’t process it. Someone who loved another person like he claimed to love me shouldn’t have run away. He should have run to me.

I felt angered. I balled up the stupid song and left it on his bed and went to my own room.

If he wasn’t back by morning, I was going to pack my things and tell Kaito it was time to go home.

**

I half expected Michael to be home in the morning, but he wasn’t. He was nowhere to be found and my blood pressure was rising with the fear that he had done something stupid.

Whereas I had once been decisive about going home, now that morning had come, I knew I couldn’t. Michael had court and if he didn’t turn up he was going to go to jail.

I knew that if something had spooked me, or if I did something that landed myself back in treatment, he wouldn’t have held it against me. He would have searched high and low for me and he would have found me and supported me through the worst of the storm.

It was my turn. So many people had turned their backs on him, but not me.

I loved him and I didn’t want him to be hurting alone.

I wondered if maybe he’d gone to his mother. Once he’d admitted that in times of crisis, his parents were his number one supports. They knew exactly what to do and how to take charge when he was unable to.

At 8am, I resumed my search for any pills and managed to find some Vicodin and some Oxycodone. I was shocked by how many hiding places he had. I wondered if even he knew about them, or had hidden them in the past and totally forgot.

I remembered back to the second time I visited him and he was high. I had no idea at the time, but in hindsight, straight Michael and high Michael were very easy to distinguish, thankfully.

“C’mon Michael, where are you?” I murmured as I entered his office. Usually I would have felt bad violating his privacy, but now was different; now I was only interested in making sure he was safe.

My eyes fell upon a roll-o-dex that was open on his desk. And I remembered back to when I had found him upstairs as I was leaving to see Raia the day before. He was on the phone

“Yes,” he had said, “I’m fine…. No really, I promise I’m fine.”

There had been a short pause and a forced laugh from his end. “No, I promise. I’m okay, I’ve got Mal here and her brother…”

Another laugh, one that sounded more genuine, “No, that’s fine too,” more almost embarrassed laughter, “She’s great, really, really great…” at that point I had walked in and he had asked the person to hold the line. If I hadn’t been mad, I would have been able to tell him that I thought he was great too.

Instead I mumbled a ‘see you later,’ and he went to kiss me on the lips but I turned my head and he caught my ear instead.

I heard him resume the conversation as I exited, “Yep, court on Monday, will you come?” he asked and instantly I heard the anxiety in his tone and figured he was speaking to his mother.

But, now that the phone numbers were sitting in front of me, I figured out who it had been.

Would it have been out of line to dial the number of the Elizabeth Taylor?

I wasn’t about to sit there all day trying to debate the morals of crossing a social boundary. If I didn’t feel so desperate to make sure that he was okay, I wouldn’t have bothered calling her, but maybe he had mentioned something to her.

I began to dial the number. I wasn’t sure how I should introduce myself – if the number was a direct one, or if it were just to a personal assistant. As I waited for the line to ring, I noticed a bunch of different contacts for Elizabeth; personal assistant, London house, L.A house – I wasn’t sure which to contact, so I just waited.

After about seven rings, I was about to hang up, but I heard someone pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, I was wondering if this is Elizabeth?”

There was some hesitance that made me know immediately that it was her. Her voice was soft and familiar, but I realised that she was probably unsure about telling someone her identity when she wasn’t sure who was on the other line.

“No-“

“Sorry,” I cut her off, “my name is Malania, I apologise for imposing, but I am calling about Michael.”

“Oh, Malania,” her voice was inflected with warmth and maternal undertones; her reticence now gone, she sounded as though she was happy to hear from me. A long shot from the way I had been treated by Michael’s Mom. “Is Michael okay?”

“I don’t know…” I felt my tears betray my voice as they streaked their way down my face. “I’m so worried about him, I don’t know where he is!”

“Okay,” she said softly, “it’s okay, we’ll find him.” she sounded soothing, but concerned. “Are you at Neverland?”

“Yes, did you speak with him yesterday? Someone called him yesterday when I was leaving to go to an appointment, that’s the last time I saw him…”

“Yes…” she replied, “that was me; did he leave a note…or?”

“No,” I stifled a sob, “his lawyer came yesterday and he didn’t deal with it very well—he acted funny with me until I left, I know he was trying to protect me but… this is not like him.”

Elizabeth sighed, “Did he go to his parents’ house? Did you try Katherine or Joseph?”

“No…” I said quietly, “I know they’ll think it’s my fault if I call—or maybe they won’t tell me.”

Maybe she knew what his parents were like, because rather than assuring me that they’d be forthright with information, she just glossed over it. “Michael probably didn’t go to his parents’ house,” she said, “if he’s upset, he won’t want to run in to other family.”

That made sense.

“What happened to make him upset, if I can ask? He assured me everything was going fine with the trial, but it’s always like Michael to pretend,” she told me.

I didn’t know if it was out of line to share too much information, but I didn’t care. I was desperate. I explained to her about how he’d pretended for so long that everything was working itself out, when in reality he had been avoiding Greg. I explained Greg’s fury, my hurt and Michael’s hysteria when it all came out.

I felt bad dumping everything on her, but I knew that besides me, she was the only one that he trusted with his life. He had revealed to me that they both had encountered similar child-star upbringings.

“I’m sorry,” I apologised tearfully, “I didn’t mean to bother you, it’s just that – Michael had left your number open on his desk and he always tells me how close you are, I thought he could be with you…” I sniffed, trying to compose myself.

“Please don’t apologise sweetheart,” she said softly, “have you tried calling his apartment in Hidden Hills? He used to go there when he didn’t want anyone to find him.”

“No…” I shook my head, “I don’t have the number.”

“Okay, I’ll call for you. I’m actually in Santa Barbara so I’ll make my way over and help you look for him.”

I wasn’t expecting that. “Okay. Thank you. Am I allowed to let you in? I don’t know—“

Liz laughed as if I was being cute. “Yes, Malania, it’s okay, I have my own access to Neverland. Sit tight and I’ll be there as soon as I can. If I hear from Michael, or if I get a hold of him I will contact you immediately.”

I thanked her and left her to it.

**

I asked Kaito to give me space. He was irritating me and he wasn’t taking me seriously enough – obviously I wasn’t about to tell him about Michael’s sketchy drug issues; I didn’t want anyone to think that we weren’t good for one another. Not only that, but it wasn’t my secret to share.

For all I knew, he could have been fine and maybe just wanted some space of his own. He could have just forgotten to call, he might have fallen asleep; anything was possible.

I think Kaito finally got the hint that he was getting on my nerves, because at long last he looked at me, sighed, and told me he was going to go out for a few hours. He had been talking about meeting up with a few former friends, I wasn’t sure what that was about, but I wasn’t going to ask questions.

Elizabeth arrived just after lunch.

It felt a little surreal at first and maybe I would have been intimidated by her had she not appeared in casual clothes and burst inside with that same warmth, comfort and assurance that she had afforded me over the phone.

I went to shake her hand when I greeted her, but she didn’t oblige me. Instead, she enveloped me in a hug and held me tightly. “It is so wonderful to meet you, Malania. I feel like I know you already!”

I couldn’t say I felt the same. “Nice to meet you too, Elizabeth,” I murmured, breaking our embrace after a moment. I couldn’t help but to relish the physical comfort during my turmoil.

“Call me Liz,” she corrected me.

She was wearing a pair of black leopard print leggings and an oversized black sweater. She wore some make up, but overall, she looked like she was just about to hang out at home for the afternoon. I gathered that’s just how she and Michael were around each other.

Real.

“I called his apartment in Hidden Hills a few times, but there’s no answer.”

“He has court on Tuesday, I’m afraid he won’t come back…”

“We’ll find him, Malania, I promise.”

“Has he ever done this before?” I asked, hoping that the answer was no. I didn’t want to have to deal with a boyfriend who went awol when shit got tough.

“Just once, he was going through a hard time,” Liz explained a little grimly. I wasn’t sure that she knew about any pill use and I wasn’t about to tell her either.

“I can’t believe he’d do this to me…” I let myself fall in to the couch and covered my face. “I’m scared he’s done something stupid…”

“Like what?” she asked, sitting beside me, putting a hand on my back, “do you have any reason to believe that he might have hurt himself?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know – I am just scared, I know how erratic he can be when he’s upset and doesn’t know how to deal.”

Liz fell silent for a moment. “Has Michael showed you any reasons in the past to make you think he might be hurting himself?” she asked in what was worded as a suspiciously casual question.

I looked her in the eye, trying to determine whether or not she knew. We both shared the knowledge of his past.

“What did you find, Malania?” she pressed me gently.

I got up and silently led her to his bedroom which he had told me he used to spend time in with Liz, watching movies and hanging out shamelessly in his bed.

I opened the all but empty drawer by his bedside where I had thrown all of my findings inside when Kaito snuck up on me looking around.

Liz picked up all the different kinds of pills and drew in a sharp breath. “Okay,” she said with an air of resolve, “we’re going to drive to Hayvenhurst to make sure he’s not there. If he’s not, we’ll go to Hidden Hills. I can’t imagine why he’d answer the phone if he’s upset…”

“Okay,” I said, wiping fresh tears.

I had a thousand questions. Why did he suddenly forgo the promise he made me about both of our recoveries?

I was glad for someone taking me seriously. I was glad that she knew and understood. “Did you know he does this?” I asked.

She nodded. “He loves you very much, Malania, he isn’t trying to hurt you, you realise that, right?”

I was glad she said it because my mind was starting to wander. I didn’t answer straight away, but I felt my eyes spilling over. “I’m just scared he’s changed his mind…” I murmured.

“No,” Liz replied firmly, “Michael adores you. You know, you are the subject of just about all of our conversations at the moment – that’s why I’m so happy to meet you, you’re important to him…”

“Do you think he’s hurt himself?” I asked, “I’m really scared.”

“I don’t think so. I just know that Michael doesn’t deal with emotional pressure and you know that he puts everyone else in front of himself, so he probably doesn’t want to concern you or let you see him in a state,” she explained.

I got up, “I don’t have a car here…” I told her, “I haven’t left here since I… got ou—“ I paused, “since I arrived here,” I corrected myself.

“That’s fine, I have a driver,” she informed me, “are you ready to go now?”

“Yeah…” I nodded, wiping my tears, “my brother is staying here too, I should leave him a note or else he’ll worry.”

**

It was weird to be back at Hayvenhurst. I remembered that I once visited upstairs with him while his parents slept as though I was a dirty secret. Michael didn’t want his parents to know he had a guest, he told me they’d ask too many questions and wouldn’t understand.

At the time, I felt like it was a bit weird, but I never asked any questions. I was still surprised that Michael Jackson wanted a friend in me.

Katherine had let us in, she was surprised to see me with Elizabeth Taylor; both of us in our unglamorous casual clothes. We tried not to let on that Michael was missing, Liz took charge and asked if we could go upstairs and pick up some things for her son.

Katherine seemed particularly struck by Elizabeth – as if royalty had set foot in her home. She was kinder to me than she had been the last time we met. I was beginning to realise that Elizabeth was a genuine, warm character who was at heart, sweet and caring without even having to try.

She held my hand the whole way, linking my arm through hers. She had even vaguely commented that I reminded her of her youngest daughter. I don’t know how, but I didn’t really ask any questions. The drive across to Hayvenhurst had been quiet; both of us focused on making sure her best friend and my boyfriend was fine.

Any other day of the week, I’d have wanted to pick Elizabeth Taylor’s brain and fire off a thousand questions at her. Right now the fame meant nothing. I just wanted my boyfriend to be okay.

“Will we be seeing you on Monday?” Katherine asked, appearing in the doorway of Michael’s living quarters, awaking me from my thoughts.

I wasn’t sure who she was speaking to, but quickly realised it was Liz.

Of course. Katherine didn’t give a shit about me.

“Yes,” Liz replied, “both Malania and I will be there, won’t we?” she asked, flashing me a smile. She must have known that Michael’s Mom could be a little prickly.

“Sure.” I nodded, glancing around the room, remembering how unwell he’d looked the night that I’d been up here with him. I felt much less angry and more worried as the hours passed.

I didn’t know why we were bothering to stick around; Michael clearly wasn’t here. “What did Michael need, exactly?” Katherine asked, buzzing around.

Liz pretended she was looking for something in particular, going through drawers.

“Uh… some books…” I blurted out, as I looked at a cupboard with a couple of magazine set upon it.

“Oh,” Katherine smiled, “Michael does love his books. Of course you wouldn’t know exactly where to look for them in here… it must be strange to see this room without him!” she remarked.

Not so much, I wanted to say with the return of her smug smile.

“Mm strange, indeed.” I murmured under my breath, forcing a less-smarmy smile.

“No, but I do…” Liz replied, heading to a corner of his room that was piled high with novels that I had somehow managed to miss. She plucked a few at random, as though she was looking for something specific.

“My son, I can’t believe now that the hired help is Elizabeth Taylor!” Katherine laughed and gave her head a shake.

No, but apparently you can believe I am…

“No, no…” Liz waved her hand, “we were on our way to lunch in Encino, we were dropping past, Michael had some work to do, so Malania and I offered.”

I was pretty impressed by her ability to lie so convincingly. She managed to advertise my importance as well as shut down her chocolate-coated insult.

I felt happy about that, at least.

“I’ve got what I need… Malania was there anything else Michael needed?” Liz asked me, as I stood dumbly staring around the room. She handed me a few books.

“No, I don’t think so…”

“Thanks for letting us in Katherine, we didn’t mean to disturb you. We will be seeing you Monday.”

They exchanged more pleasantries as we made our way out the front of the Spanish style home.

“What was the point of coming here, we could have called?” I asked Liz once she discarded all the books in the back of the sleek, black Mercedes that a guy drove exclusively for her.

“Because if I’ve learned anything since I’ve known Michael, its that Katherine Jackson isn’t so great at not sharing private information with the rest of her children who in turn, don’t have a great track record at keeping their mouths shut.”

It all fell together. “Oh… right, we all know how Jermaine loves to employ himself as family spokesperson,” I added.

“Right,” Liz smiled at me, “the last thing anyone needs to know is that Michael is missing. It’ll send them all in to a panic.”

“The last thing Michael needs…” I resolved, glancing out the window, resting my head upon it glumly.

We drove in silence for a short while until Liz finally broke it.

“So… Katherine Jackson isn’t a fan of Malania Nakamura.”

I managed to feeble laugh, surprised that she knew my full name; but then I remembered that everyone knew about me.

My life was turning out to be so fucking surreal.

“I don’t know…” I shrugged, tossing my hair out of my face. “I think she’s just looking out for Michael and she and everyone else has read too much about what they think I went to the crazy house for,” I spoke frankly and concisely, deciding to just approach the subject head on.

Elizabeth laughed at my bluntness. “Oh, Malania, I can see why Michael thinks you’re a breath of fresh air.”

I must have thrown her a quizzical look.

“There’s no beating around the bush, is there?” she added with another little chuckle. “don’t let the Jackson family intimidate you,” she continued, “Katherine is a very, very, very sweet woman, but she’s had to put up with a lot and Michael is her most precious.”

I nodded, “I know that… I know she’s just worried about Michael and a new woman on the scene probably feels like they’re back to square one; but she doesn’t know me – to be fair, if I found out my son was seeing someone fresh from the funny farm, I’d have my reservations too.”

Liz chuckled, “We’ve all had our stay in the funny farm, don’t feel ashamed of it.”

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, but I let it go.

End Notes:

There you go! nowwwww, review please:)

Chapter 58 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

I accidentally posted this the other day...oops! Anyway, here is chapter 58 -- enjoy.

Chapter 58

I sang a song over and over in my mind: Casey’s song. It haunted me still to this day.

We’ll reach the rainbows upon the heavens in the sky…

She happily clapped along as I played the guitar, something I never did. I wasn’t great at it, but she loved the guitar.

“Michael, I will play this when I’m a big girl?” she asked with her giant eyes, staring up at me adoringly.

Nothing in the world would erase that feeling of being somebody’s hero.

“Of course, honey, I believe in you,” I told her with a smile as I strummed aimlessly.

“Sing the song!” she patted the bend of my arm in a way that would have been patronising had she not only been four years old.

It didn’t matter how sick she was, she never seemed to lose her sprite when I was around. She was always so happy to see me.

We were in London. Her blood count was dangerously low and she had been hospitalised to start a transfusion treatment. She was deathly pale. Even the pinks of her eyes had lost their colour.

Her appetite had been lost from all the treatment so getting her to eat felt like pulling teeth.

“Okay,” I smiled, “are you sure?” I teased her as I sat on the edge of her bed.

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! I want the song!”

Diane watched on silently in the corner, her eyes full of tears. We knew Casey’s situation was growing dire. Diane knew it was probably time to start preparing herself for the worst. Casey’s body hadn’t really fought back the way it had in the past.

She weighed next to nothing and the doctors began talking about feeding her with a nasal tube. Her cheeks were hollowed out and her body ached almost constantly.

I put on a brave face when I was around her and when I had to walk out on stage almost every night. I wasn’t about to let Diane take her home; I wanted them to stay with me, for her to be able to enjoy every tiny minute of her life.

I also put on a brave face for Diane. She wasn’t dealing well.

“I don’t want to hear that song again!” Diane snapped loudly, startling both her daughter and I.

She never said another word; she got up and left the room. Casey looked at me in shock for a moment before she burst in to tears.

It was rare that Diane showed her emotions in front of Casey, but everything was getting to be too much and her nerves were worn. I set the guitar down and lifted my baby girl up.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I soothed her, rubbing her back, cuddling her close to me. “Mommy isn’t mad at you, she’s just upset because you’re not feeling well.” I told her, kissing her temple.

“Okay?”

She nodded.

“Here, let’s sing the song, okay?”

Let’s imagine that we can fly, we’ll reach the rainbow upon the heavens in the sky;
and when you feel weak, darling I will be your shield…
Imagine the rainbow with me;
we will reach the rainbow, won’t we?

It kept haunting me.

How close was my baby to reaching that rainbow? I could barely stand to think about it. The worst part was that no one would give me any information about her.

My heart hurt.

I wasn’t sure if that was a physical issue, or if it was just heartbreak consuming me all over again.

Somehow I had found the sonogram photo that I hid away after Diane yelled at me for leaving it on the refrigerator. I cried for our child and resented her for not being able to carry it to term.

Maybe if our child had been born in to the world, none of this would have happened.

Maybe I was unfair; maybe I should have agreed to have another child to help Casey live. If anything happened to her, it would probably be my fault.

Ugh.

The Xanax was wearing off. I wasn’t able to sleep anymore.

I thought about what Diane and Casey were doing – probably hanging out with her mother, too scared to back out now that the case had gone this far. She was never really a particularly strong woman, Diane. She always needed assurance that she was making the right decisions; she let herself get pushed around by too many people.

And she was frightened of her own mother.

I wanted to call, but I wasn’t even sure where she was.

I needed to remember more about who was around – who could have harmed her in those months that they spent with me on tour. I needed to write down everything.

I peeled myself out of the bed; my body felt heavy and burdened by a strangely weighted numbness.

I had to have a shower and clear my mind. Somewhere buried beneath the fuzziness of my brain was the fantasy of having my name cleared and having the opportunity to face Diane and ask to see Casey, to make sure she was okay – to continue having a hand in her treatment.

I knew it wouldn’t be cool with Malania, but … I didn’t really care.

Casey was the only link between my old, stress-free, happy and successful life and my current self.

And now I was left with the remnants; the leftovers, the after-effects of what happened when your life was classified more as an entity than a fucking human being.

I felt nauseous and I couldn’t seem to stop sweating.

As I stripped down to underwear and splashed some cold water from the basin over my face, I thought about Malania back at Neverland, probably hanging out with Kaito and appreciating the space away from me; the person who had hurt her with my lies.

I was such a huge fucking disappointment.

Selfish too, my conscience added, taunting me.

Imagine the rainbow with me…

If I got through this trial and cleared my name, I needed to stay the hell away from Casey; apparently I only brought harm to her life.

I took two Adderall, trying to block out the thoughts as I placed the pills upon my tongue, swallowing them with just a tiny bit of saliva. I almost choked on one and helped it down by cupping some tap water in to my mouth from my hands.

I got in to the shower and curled up in the corner of the recess, letting the water wash down right over my face hoping that with it, it would take my devastation and grief.

And this stupid fucking new reality.

**

I heard the front door rattling and I heard someone yelling my name. It felt distant and despite some small part of me knowing that this meant something serious, my brain couldn’t seem to do much about it. I just sat stoically in the middle of the kitchen floor upon the ice cold tiles.

All I could seem to focus upon was the blood. It trickled in a thin line down my left arm, leaving me transfixed with my heart beating so hard that I could hear it as if it were pulsating right by my eardrums.

“Stop…” I slurred.

The kitchen had grown darker as the sun went down and now all that remained was a faint light through the window shade.  I couldn’t remember how long I’d been sitting there. I could smell the vomit that I hadn’t completely managed to clear up.  When had I thrown up?

My head pounded with pain, sparking bursts of light behind my eyeballs that could only be explained as nothing short of torturous.

“Michael!” I heard more banging on the door, “open the door, Michael!” it was Malania’s voice.

“Mal…” I murmured to no one. I smoothed the tiles on the floor as if doing so would smooth out their firm indentations and turn them into fluffy pillows, and laid my heavy and aching head down upon. “Leave me alone…” I whispered.

I let my eyes fall closed.

We’ll reach the rainbow, won’t we?

**

“Please take a seat-“ the doctor motioned for both Diane and I to sit down in front of his desk.

I pulled the chair for her and waited for her to sit before I sat besides her, once seated, I naturally reached for her hand to comfort her.

We’d left Casey with Larry in the waiting room where she could play with the toys.

“Before we start, how is Casey today?”

Diane looked at me, as if I had somehow been spending more time with her than she had. Perhaps I had, I was constantly present with her. Diane sat in the corner watching on, only loaning herself to her daughter when she needed a cuddle.

I came to realise in that split instance, that I was caring for two people.

Diane had all but bailed on her daughter. She went through the motions but didn’t really show her child all that much warmth anymore. Not if I compared the level of affection and love she had shown to her when I’d first met her.

“She’s good, happy, but… not feeling very well, obviously,” I replied, ignoring my sudden discovery, trying to concentrate on our appointment.

“Our results show, and I’m sure you will both agree with me, that at this present moment, Casey’s tumours are too large for the chemotherapy to really gain a foothold. It’s almost like we’re playing a losing game of whack-a-mole,” he explained.

I felt Diane clenching my hand tightly as if she were bracing herself for something she wasn’t about to like.

“Okay…” I said slowly.

We had taken Casey to just about every renowned specialist in every country that we touched down in, hoping that we would find someone who could offer us a cure. So far, miracles weren’t really in our immediate future.

“I’m thinking that Casey’s only hope at this point is a kidney transplant. She is quickly losing function in that area.”

We knew that. We knew dialysis was on the cards.

“But, the last doctor told us that kidney transplant is only feasible if the chemo kills off the cancer cells that spread elsewhere…” Diane pitched in, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Yes, that’s the hurdle we must face, Ms. Hargrove, at this point, we can see from the last results that there are a few more legions appearing on her liver and stomach.”

I felt a little woozy with shock and the room had a sense of surreal to it. It was not at all the news I expected to hear. I tried to regather myself while Diane just fell apart. I didn’t blame her. I scooted my chair closer to her and pulled her inward toward me. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly.

“I thought the treatment was going well, we thou-“ I let my voice trail off.

He got up, placing a scan against a backlight that was mounted to the wall. He drew his finger the scan, circling a spot, explaining that it was a new hot spot for the cancer.

“Right now I believe we should change her course of treatment and start incorporating a low dose of radiation on her stomach area.  We would then know within a few weeks if it were helping.  If so and her vitals are strong enough, we could then and remove those tumours, - ”

“Okay,” I agreed again.

“- the chemotherapy is going to be aggressive and we’ll undergo some tests first to determine whether or not Casey is healthy enough to go through with it.”

Diane breathed out a sobs.

“I understand this is very difficult to hear,” the doctor told her gently, “but it is sincerely what I feel to be the best course of action against such late stage cancer.”

Late stage cancer

I hated that I had researched the back end out of Wilms Tumors, I knew everything about it and I knew that treatment was usually quite successful if the diagnosis was made during the early staging.

Casey’s hadn’t been, but according to Diane, she had been given no reason to believe that she wouldn’t make a full recovery when she had been originally treated. The recurrence was what had thrown them – it had been found later and had been given 4th staging. It was still treatable, but more serious as it had spread beyond her kidneys.

Casey had undergone tumor removal surgery three times, but so far the results had been disheartening.

“If this treatment doesn’t work,” he began, “it would be in Casey’s best interests to begin to consider quality of life over quantity of life and making her feel as comfortable as we can.”

I could have vomited, but I took a few deep breaths and waited for the dizziness to dissipate.

“Okay,” I said for the third time while Diane had barely spoken as she was too consumed by her tears.

“Would you like a minute to yourselves?” the doctor asked us, “I understand this is not really the news you expected to hear.”

I nodded again.

He left us for the moment and closed the door behind us.

I turned to Diane and pulled my shit together, like I always did, despite the fact that I wanted to crumple in to pieces along with her.

I blinked back the tears filming over in my eyes and took her by the shoulders, “Di, we need to believe Casey will be okay? Alright?” I told her desperately, probably trying to convince myself as well. “She is going to be fine, we are going to trust God that He will take care of her and bring her healing.”

“God!” she exclaimed loudly with a half laugh and half sob, “God!” she repeated, “Are you kidding me, Michael? My daughter has been dealing with this for more than HALF of her life and you’re telling me to trust God?!”

I figured that maybe Diane wasn’t ready to have a rational conversation about any of what we had just heard. I didn’t try to discuss God with her any further; instead I just pulled her in to an embrace and told her that I loved her and that we’d see it through.

When we were done seeing the doctor, we went to find Casey and Larry. Neither was to be found. Diane made her way to the receptionist, “Where did my daughter go?” she asked, “She was with our security guard!” she added urgently.

“They were just headed out for a walk, Casey got a little upset when she couldn’t come in with you both.”

Diane placed her hand on her chest with relief. She did suffer a little separation anxiety from her daughter. I understood; I had felt it when I left for my tour.

“Let’s just wait here,” I told Diane, “I’m sure they’re not far away, Larry probably just wanted to calm her down.”

She agreed and sank down on a hard plastic waiting room seat. I held her hand and she actually initiated physical contact first. It wasn’t too often that she did that. She leaned in, encircling her arms around my waist, burying her head in to my chest.

It was nice to feel needed.

Less than fifteen minutes later of the two of us sitting in almost complete silence, Larry was carrying Casey up the hallway toward us. She was grizzling away. Instead of reaching her arms up for her Mommy, she looked at me, crying out for me, saying my name over and over. 

I felt bad but if Diane felt hurt by that, she didn’t say anything. She just wiped her cheeks and I wiped mine too, noticing that I had shed a few tears. I took her from Larry. She entwined her tiny limbs around me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“It’s okay, don’t cry, Mom and I are here…” I told her. I looked up at Larry who was red-faced and irate, as if her upset had really bothered him.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Mr Jackson, I’m not a babysitter,” he said with a little chuckle. “She got upset, so I took her outside for a walk…”

He shifted uncomfortably, probably because he had suddenly realised he’d walked in on an intimate family moment; that from the looks on our faces and the heavy footsteps with which we paced down the hallway that something was not right.

When we got back to the hotel, Diane totally fell apart. She checked out on me and went to lay down. I knew she was sad, but I needed her to get up and be Casey’s Mom. I also had to work. I tried never to take our problems on stage with me, but I knew that night’s show would be tough.

My tour camp was a well-oiled machine. We had everything on point right down to a very rigid time line. It began from the time I was to leave the hotel, the time I spent getting ready in my trailer, make up, hair, a quick run down with the band, a meeting to inform me and anyone else of any tech issues or any factors that I should keep in mind.

I also had a tour assistant whose job it was to bring me up to speed on things to do with the country’s culture. What I could say, what I should say, if there was a song to avoid singing for fear of offending. The assistant also reminded me what city I was in since it was easy to forget.

I needed to start warming up my vocals and spend some time stretching to get ready to dance. For me, dancing was a very good outlet of emotional stress, so was singing, so the concert that night was probably going to be full of energy.

“Sweetheart,” I disturbed Diane softly, sitting on the edge of the bed where she lay with her head buried beneath a pillow. “Sweetie, I have to start getting ready…”

“…you’re going to be able to still go out on stage tonight,?” she asked in monotone. Even though she spoke without any emotion, I was still able to pick up some surprise.

“Yes, I have to…” I replied simply, “I’d rather be here with you both, but I can’t.”

“Okay…” she nodded. I leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Casey is having a nap right now. I’ve gone ahead and ordered room service for you for dinner and I asked them to bring some steamed vegetables and brown rice for Case… if you need anything else, just call Larry.”

“Thanks, Michael…”

She had been so cagey with me leading up to that appointment, picking apart every single thing I did; nothing ever seemed to be right. But, in that moment, I remembered how nice she could be and how gracious and appreciative she was.

As I drew away from her, she lifted her head and kissed my cheek back. I managed a smile. “How are you feeling?” I asked, stroking her hair, speaking to her in a hushed tone.

She shrugged and gave a half smile back to me. “I don’t even know anymore…”

“However you feel,” I began, “those feelings aren’t wrong, okay? If you feel anger or sadness, resentment, whatever – it’s all normal.”

“I know…” her voice trailed off. “You’re so good at all this, Casey just loves you so much, probably more than she loves me…” her tone was tinged with a little hint of bitterness.

“I doubt it,” I replied, but both of us knew that her daughter chose me every single time over her. Maybe it was jealousy, maybe that was the issue with Casey calling me Dad, I wasn’t sure, but I tried not to buy in to it. “You do all the hard stuff, I’m just the one who comes home and makes her laugh…”

I knew that wasn’t really a fair appraisal of my relationship with Casey. I too had done my fair share of changing diapers earlier on. I fed her, bathed her, put her to bed, I read stories, held her head over buckets when she was unwell. I held her hand when she was enduring needles and IV lines and all of her doctor related stuff.

In fact, often Diane checked out. She was moody and cold and sometimes a little insensitive when Casey vied for her attention.

It wasn’t her fault though; I felt like her daughter’s sickness was just too all consuming for her to deal with some days. Although, she made no effort to get any help from the social workers that the hospital was always trying to push upon her.

“What time will you be back tonight?” she wondered, ignoring the lie that I had just told us both.

“Probably just after midnight. Don’t wait up, okay? You need some sleep.”

My doctor had prescribed Diane some Valium to help with her insomnia. She hated to take it, but sometimes it was necessary.

“I’ll get up in a minute…” she promised.

“Don’t worry too much. Casey has only just gone down for a nap. I’m going to the show with Franco tonight. Larry is hanging out, keeping an eye on her if and to be here if you need anything.”

Larry wasn’t happy about that, but I didn’t care. I knew despite his huffing and puffing, he had a soft spot for Casey. How could he not?

“Thanks Michael…” she said again, “you’re wonderful.”

I just smiled and kissed her again. “I gotta jet, I’ll come in and give you a cuddle when I get home…”

“I’ll look forward to that.”

For the first time in awhile, she reached her arms out. I almost laughed, she looked gorgeous despite the concern filling up the worry lines on her face. She looked exactly as Casey did when she was demanding a hug.

I obliged her and held her for a moment.

“See you later, sweetheart…” I murmured, getting up to leave.

**

There were two hands on either side of my face. I wanted to open my eyes but I couldn’t seem to lift the heavy lids that kept them tightly closed.

There were voices too, familiar ones that sounded far away. I couldn’t focus on them. The words reached me in a blur that I discarded as quickly as I heard them.

I cursed myself for taking too many pills. Every single pill that made it down my throat came with the promise that it would be the last.

Until the bad thoughts came back and the urges to push deeper with the sharp objects passed.

I was too much of a fucking coward to go through with it, so dulling the pain with the cocktail of drugs that the Adderall ironically gave me the focus to find, seemed like the most logical thing to do.

We’ll reach the rainbow upon the heavens in the sky

I heard my own voice trying to say something, but my tongue seemed too heavy to move properly. I was trying to feebly protest.

Why?

I couldn’t really figure out what was happening. Something cold hit my face. More words, they got louder, frantic even.

We’ll reach the rainbows, won’t we?

I was moving. Flying in to the sky, maybe, I wasn’t sure. Tiny pin-holes of light burst in through my eyeballs almost blinding me, burning my retinas; or at least that’s how it felt.

I anticipated the rainbows. I smiled to see Casey. I hugged her tightly. She smiled back, looking healthy and happy.

Everything turned to black again and instead of words trying to find their way out of my mouth, I felt liquid filling my mouth involuntarily, making my body spasm uncontrollably.

I was moving again.

Hands all over me, my body fought against whatever was trying to make its way out of my body; probably all the darkness getting rejected by a lifetime of trying to be fucking positive in the face of constant shit storm.

And when you feel weak, darling, I will be your shield…

I failed.

I failed. I fucking failed.

I repeated myself, my words meshing with the toxic fluid that spilled from my mouth and the water that escaped the corners of my eyes.

“I’M SORRY!” I yelled loudly, the words finally making their way from my lips, unencumbered by whatever force was guilty of sucking me inside myself, unable to coherently respond to anyone else who happened to be in the room with me.

I gave up fighting, trying to focus, trying to stop the expulsion of feelings.

Instead I felt a shower of rain falling upon me. I stopped flying. The bursts of light seemed to halt and the voices got quieter, but they didn’t stop touching my face and calling my name.

Imagine the rainbow with me…

 

End Notes:

Thanks for reading, please leave a review :) How do you think we should proceed from here? 

Chapter 59 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

I have to let you know -- some of the chapters may be a bit slower to come out in the future. I have just taken on new work hours that begin monday and I am still trying to finish school and have a social life, etc. Please be patient and feel free to leave me some suggestions because I am fast running out of ideas :)

 

Chapter 59

The smell was what hit me first as the locksmith opened the door for us.

It was horrifyingly easy to convince the young Silver Key service employee that the apartment belonged to Elizabeth. Then again, who would dare argue with Elizabeth Taylor? Its not as though she could have got away with a random apartment robbery without being noticed.

Once the deadlock unlocked, Liz thanked him and handed him a wad of cash. We waved and watched him head off, happy with his giant tip.

I pushed the door open first, calling out to him.

We knew he was there, we heard movement inside; items being thrown around and broken. He was yelling, too. There was a lot of angry and aggressive yelling.

When the door opened, the smell hit me like a brick wall of waste. My instant thought was that he was dead, the smell was his body rotting. My heart leapt in to my throat as we both called out to him and scrambled around checking all of the rooms.

“Michael?” I called, “Michael where are you?”

I looked down to see what looked like vomit on the floor. I almost brought up the contents of my half-hearted breakfast. I held my hand over my mouth and followed the trial of vomit in to the kitchen.

And then I saw blood, I followed it around the counter. My eyes fell upon him laying on his back, vomit encrusted over his white t-shirt, staining it a yellow-ish brown colour.

“Liz!” I called out, “Liz, in here, call 911!”

His eyes were rolled back in to his head, he wasn’t moving and for a moment I thought we might have been too late. I felt the adrenalin fill my veins as I stood over him, touching his face, “Michael!” I called out to him.

I knelt down, suddenly unfazed by the vomit. I began to roll him on to his side as I remembered learning in first aid. “I think we should call 911…” I said again.

I knew Liz was hesitant, the last thing he needed was the press to know about his pill-popping antics.

“Michael, wake up…” I told him sternly as if he were able to hear me.

“Give him a few minutes…” Elizabeth piped up. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a cold cloth and wiped his face off and then dabbed at the back of his neck with it.

He tried to speak but nothing was coming out. He shut his eyes, clamping them closed before he began vomiting. I was glad for remembering to roll him on to his side.

I noticed blood smears over his arm and I knew he had been self-harming.

I wasn’t able to process what was happening because I was too busy in auto-pilot, making sure he was going to be okay. “What have you taken…” I murmured more to myself than to him, waiting for him to finish vomiting all over the white tiles.

“We’ll take him to the shower, okay?” Elizabeth suggested, “we’ll put him under a cool shower, that might wake him u-“

Michael screamed out aggressively, taking us both by surprise. We still weren’t able to understand what he was saying, but he was obviously just hallucinating.

Liz grabbed his legs, and I grabbed his upper half and we both dragged his dead weight to the bathroom. “Michael, sweetie, we’re going to put you in the shower, okay?” I told him, unsure if he was able to hear us.

It felt wrong, but I pulled Michael’s socks off him and together we took off his pyjama pants and pulled his vomit-soaked shirt off. We sat him in the bottom of the shower and turned the tap on, easing from warm to cool, not wanting to shock his body more by freezing him with ice-cold water.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” I asked Liz.

“He will,” she promised. I sat on the edge of the bath feeling helpless and full of panic.

“How can you be sure, I don’t want anything to happen to him—“ I was waiting for my own tears, but nothing came. Elizabeth’s face was full of intense concern. Her arms were folded and she leaned against the doorway, both of our eyes were focused on Michael, waiting for some kind of reaction from him.

“You silly, silly boy, Michael…” she mumbled, shaking her head.

“Do you think he meant to kill himself?” I asked a little shakily.

“He is trying to run away from his pain…” she answered me. “Are you okay here? I’m going to try to figure out what he’s taken.”

“Sure…” I nodded, feeling my hands start to shake; the shock of finding him in the state that he was in was starting to set in.

I made my way to the shower recess and sat just outside of it. “Michael,” I began, “Michael, I’m here…” I told him, “I need you to open your eyes and wake up, talk to me, okay?”

He mumbled something, it made me realise he could probably hear me even though he was as high as a kite. I lifted my sweatshirt sleeve and reached inside and grabbed his naked arm, letting my hand fall in to his.

“I love you, Michael, I know you’re hurting and I’m not leaving you…” I told him. I felt the slightest little squeeze in return. I wasn’t sure if it were coincidence but it made me relax just a tiny bit.

We left him in the shower for a short while, checking on him every other minute.

Elizabeth and I gathered all the pills that we could find. There were a mixture of uppers and downers and an empty bottle of whiskey. “Oh my Lord…” Liz murmured, “it is a wonder he didn’t kill himself…” there were a few empty pill bottles, but mostly there were stray pills that were loosely strewn about the place.

“This place smells awful,” I remarked, trying to hide just how shaken up I was. “I think we should call 911.”

So much for him seeking professional help.

“We don’t need to call 911. He’s going to be fine,” Liz said. I noticed she was brushing away tears. I wasn’t sure if she was right or that I should have been listening to her. Maybe she was in denial too?

“Don’t worry about the mess I’m going to organise a cleaner once Michael sobers up a little,” Liz added casually. She was preoccupied, looking through a small black book as she sat by his phone, ready to make a few phone calls.

I wasn’t sure to whom, but I didn’t bother asking questions.

I went back to the bathroom and found him lying lifelessly on the tiles.

“I’m going to call 911,” I told Liz, calling out to her for some help.

“We can’t,” she replied decisively, “can you imagine what would happen if we send him to hospital in the back of an ambulance?” she asked me, getting frustrated.

Can you imagine what would happen if he leaves this fucking place in a body bag!?

We pulled him out of the bathroom and laid him down in the fresh, clean guest room on top of the towel. I got another and patted him dry save for his grey trunks that we had left him to shower in, both respecting his privacy.

I didn’t want my first encounter with my boyfriend’s penis to be during this situation.

Liz left me with him. I pulled the covers over him because he was shaking a little the same way that I was. “Can you hear me, Michael?” I asked him, stroking his hair.

He said something, but I couldn’t understand.

“Try to sleep, Michael, when you wake up, you’ll feel a thousand times better.” I rolled him on to his side again, just in case and while I could hear Liz on the phone out in the family room, I slid on to the bed next to my boyfriend, holding him tight, resting my hand on his chest, afraid that his heart might stop without me noticing.

“I love you.” I told him, “I love you so much, I’m not leaving your side,” I told him, feeling as though I was betraying him by not just calling 911.

**

“You can appreciate our need for privacy during this time…” Elizabeth spoke grimly over the phone. It was her own private doctor on the other line.

 “I can’t come out there, you need to dial 911.”

“Can’t we take him to the ER ourselves?” she asked, fretting that Michael would be the subject of overwhelming media attention.

He drew in a deep breath as though he was incredibly reluctant. “Liz,” he began. I could hear almost the entire conversation. “this isn’t a good idea, I am putting my license at risk by not calling 911 now. We don’t know what he’s taken, I can’t treat him there it would be unethical.”

“Is there some kind of private practice where we can take him where it will be discreet? You have to appreciate-“

“Elizabeth,” he said firmly, “911.”

I had been tired of listening to them argue around. I didn’t want the world to know my boyfriend had been dulling out his pain with drugs, but I also didn’t want him to die and after the doctor had checked him out, he seemed concerned that Michael’s heart was doing erratic things.

“I’ve already called 911,” I murmured in a quiet voice, coming from the office upstairs that had its own separate phone line. I knew Liz wouldn’t be happy about it, but she and I came from very different backgrounds.

“Malania!” Liz exclaimed, “Michael will be-“

“I don’t care,” I said, my voice trembling with tears, “he can hate me as much as he wants, but I’m not going to let him have a heart attack and die because of some asshole woman and her kid who took him for a ride—it’s not worth it.”

“And with all of this,” I nodded down to the fucking ridiculous and horrifying mixture of pills, “I’m sure he’s at risk, honestly we should have called them 15 minutes ago.”

Liz went back to her conversation with the doctor. I knew she was quite angry with me, but I didn’t care.

I don’t think that either of us realised how dire the situation was until the paramedics actually arrived. They listened to his heart and immediately hoisted his lifeless body on to the gurney.

I knew I’d made the right choice.

I rode in the back with Michael. I wasn’t going to leave his side. Liz’s doctor had promised to meet us at the hospital and would act as Michael’s physician.

“Do you know what happened?” the paramedic asked me a little urgently. I was glad it was so late, there was only one family who came out to see what was happening and the lead paramedic had allowed me to cover up Michael’s face.

His neighbours still had no idea who the man was that lived next to them.

“I don’t know; we just found him with a lot of pills,” I wiped my cheeks as I felt the vehicle moving. “Lots of stuff, Adderall, Xanax, I don’t know what he has and hasn’t taken…”

“Has he been responsive at all since you arrived?” the woman questioned me. She had her blond, wavy hair tightly pulled back, harshly exposing all the lines on her face.

I shook my head. “He started to vomit when I tried to wake him up, so I put him on his side…”

“Good, good…” she gave me a tight smile, “you did the right thing by calling us.” The other paramedic, a man who sat on the other end of the gurney by his head, threaded an IV in to the back of his hand without any response from Michael at all.

I stared at Michael, placing my hand on one of his cold calf muscles. It occurred to me that I’d never touched that part of him before. “Does he have a history with self harm?” she continued, inspecting the cut on his upper arm.

“No,” I lied. That was a conversation for a therapist; I wasn’t about to share more information than I needed to. “And who are you to Mr. Jackson?”

“His girlfriend,” I replied emotionlessly. I glanced at her nametag. It read, “Karin”.

“Okay, when we get to the hospital, we are going to pump his stomach to get out whatever hasn’t reached his system yet, are you able to contact his family?” she asked.

I nodded. I didn’t want to have to call Katherine, I hoped Liz would do it. She already disliked me enough.

**

The grey-haired, elderly doctor came to see Liz and I as we moved everything in to a private ward at the Westhills hospital just a few miles away from his apartment.

“Michael is doing okay,” he told us, “they’ve pumped his stomach and intubated him to make sure that he doesn’t vomit and aspirate; you did the right thing by calling 911.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew Liz wasn’t happy with me, even if she didn’t show it. It was on me though, if Michael was angry, he could be angry but I wasn’t sorry. He would have done the same if the tables were turned. He wouldn’t have had to even consider it.

“How long before we can see him?” I asked, letting the tears finally fall from my eyes.

I felt both of Liz’s arms around me. I guess the shock had finally worn off.

“I think the attending is trying to determine if he needs to drink some charcoal to get everything up. They’ll bring him up here to sleep as soon as they’re done with him in the OR.”

“Thank you Dr. Crinnigan, for taking your time out and stepping in for us, you know what its like, they wouldn’t have told us anything.”

“It’s my pleasure Elizabeth. I would say that you should contact Michael’s GP unless he’s happy to keep seeing the attending for the duration of his stay.”

“So, is he going to be okay?” I asked, wanting to be sure.

The doctor smiled warmly at me and pushed the black glasses frames upon his sharp nose. “Yes, he’s going to be fine, you can relax, you did the right thing.”

I nodded. “I think I have to make a phone call…” I murmured to them both. Before either one of them could respond, I slipped out of the room and in to the hallway. I forgot that the world had been incredibly interested in me, but it seemed like everyone else had already forgotten me too.

No one bothered me, no one even said a word to me or stared at me. I was glad for that. I supposed without Michael Jackson standing next to me, it was pretty easy to go unnoticed.

I picked up the pay phone at the end of the hallway as I felt the tears flowing freely down my face, my hands were trembling in shock. I dialled the number that I would have never forgotten.

“Hello?” a voice picked up after the fourth ring.

Suddenly I burst in to sobs.

“Malania?”

“Mama…” I hiccupped, “Mama, I need you…”

I could hear the concern in her voice, “Malania, where are you?” she asked.

I let myself cry for a few moments. Someone passing by stopped awkwardly, putting a hand on my shoulder. I dared to look up.

It was Katherine Jackson.

I couldn’t even speak. She leaned over kindly, handing me a white handkerchief. “I’ll be just down the hall,” she smiled through her own worries.

I nodded, trying my best to compose myself as my Mama continued to ask me if I was okay.

“Can you come, is Papa home? I’m at West Hills hospital…” I told her, “it’s Michael…”

“Oh Draga, of course, is Michael okay?”

“I think so… I just… I don’t think I can do this on my own…” I drew in a deep breath, remembering Raia’s advice to lean on the people who knew how to support me during times of necessity.

I just wanted my mother. No love and comfort was greater than that of my mothers.

“What happened?”

I looked around and realised there were a lot of people rushing up to Katherine, realising very quickly that it might just be Michael Jackson inside the ward.

I didn’t want to say too much over the phone, I couldn’t be sure who was listening. And I hated to be paranoid, but if living in Michael’s bubble with him had taught me anything, it was to be suspicious of everyone despite promising him that I wouldn’t be.

“I’ll tell you when you get here…” I replied, wiping my face with the handkerchief that had been given to me from Mrs. Jackson.

“Okay, I will get your Papa.”

“Umm there might be some troubles getting inside. I think the press is here…” my mouth fell open as a throng of reporters came dashing down the hallway toward the entrance of the ward, past security guards.

They were held back; two burly men stood against the double doors that led the way to Michael’s private room.

“Come to the doorway of E-block, 6 West…” I murmured, “I’ll come out.”

I could hear my Mom rifling around to get something to write it down with. “I gotta go, Mama.”

“Okay sweetheart, we will be there as soon as possible.” Mama replied. I mumbled a goodbye and hung up, completely distracted by the press agents that were yelling and pushing trying to get inside the ward.

I had been sitting on a bench by the phone at the end of the corridor outside of his ward. I just watched on, happy from my own private little alcove away from the craziness.

I knew the fact that they were there was all due to me calling 911. I knew that it was my fault. Soon, everyone would know about Michael’s drug problem and when he came to he was going to be so angry with me.

But what the hell was I to do?

I didn’t want to become the subject of media attention so I continued to sit for probably more than 30 minutes, quietly considering my next move.

I wondered if Kaito had found out by now. I knew he’d eventually turn up, but for the moment I didn’t really feel much like contacting him. I didn’t want to tell everyone. The less people who knew about Michael’s problem the better.

I even started to wish I hadn’t acted so rashly in calling my Mama. I hoped she wouldn’t judge Michael.

It wasn’t long before more security guards arrived, turning the media away, making them leave the floor completely. It was useless since Michael wasn’t even back in his room yet. We were only waiting.

One of the security guards passed me; he was the one who had escorted Michael and I from the back of the ambulance and straight in to the ER. He gave me a little smile.

I waited for all of them to pass me, turning around, pretending to talk on the phone so nobody noticed me or looked at my face.

Once everything was clear, I got up and made my way back to the ward.

**

“Why did she call the ambulance!?” Katherine hissed, “is she stupid?”

“No,” Liz said glumly, with a sigh, “she did the right thing, I felt a bit frustrated at first but no, I just saw the doctor, if Malania didn’t call 911, he could have had a heart attack, he took a lot of pills. He is very lucky she was there… I’m lucky she was there.”

I felt hurt by Katherine’s words as I stood by the doorway.

“Surely all of this treatment could have been administered if Malania had just called a doctor – I don’t understand why she let him leave when he was in such a state…”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t need this bullshit. Where had my backbone gone? I may have been meek when it came to my own problems but I rarely let anyone make me feel inferior. “You may think I have some kind of crazy spell over Michael, but I don’t,” I snapped at her as I made my presence known.

Katherine was sitting on a chair and Liz had been pacing as we awaited Michael’s return. “Also, there’s nothing wrong with my hearing. If you think that calling 911 for your son who’s heart was going crazy and was laying in the kitchen covered in his own vomit and blood, then maybe you need to re-evaluate your priorities. Michael can hate me for this, you can hate me for this, but I am not sorry. I’d rather have brought him here and have you all hate me and blame me for the press finding out about his dirty laundry than have you all hate me because I didn’t bring him here and you’re lowering him in to the ground!”

I was crying and I was exhausted. I had barely slept the night before and emotionally I was spent.

Neither women spoke another word to me, probably for fear I’d snap again.

I sank in to a chair and leaned my head back to stare at the ceiling. It was weird to be back in the hospital. At least this time it wasn’t for something I’d done; unless you counted calling the paramedics.

**

About an hour passed until Michael was wheeled back to his room. In my head I worked out an explanation to tell my family. Michael had had a severe reaction to medication that he was taking.

I didn’t feel like they’d ever suspect in a million years that this guy who seemed to have his shit together would be trying to kill himself off with prescription medication.

I jumped up when he was wheeled in, sleeping peacefully and looking a lot cleaner and healthier than he had been. I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

Michael stirred a little, but he pulled the crisp blanket up closer under his chin. He was attached to an IV and had some charcoal smudges around the edges of his mouth. Other than that, he looked okay. He had some colour back in his face.

“Oh thank God…” I heard Katherine murmur. We all waited around his bedside, although I couldn’t help but to notice that Katherine tried to edge me out of the way.

I was lucky she hadn’t argued me out of the room because I wasn’t family.

“Michael, can you hear me?” his mother asked, leaning over him.

“Okay ladies, you’ll need to take a step back, only one visitor at once, he’s still out. Two of you are going to need to step out,” a nurse with told us. She had coffee-coloured skin, deep brown eyes and didn’t look like she was kidding around.

Liz stepped back without even questioning it. I didn’t want to leave his side, but I wasn’t about to argue with his mother. She turned and glared at me expectantly.

“Malania should stay with him…” Liz surprisingly spoke up.

“What?” Katherine looked at her with a chuckle, “I’m his mother.”

“I know,” Liz said with a gentle smile, “but Malania is the person he’s chosen to be around him for the past few months when he’s been down…” she added pointedly.

“No, it’s alright,” I heard myself say even though it wasn’t all right.

Katherine surprised me. She turned to me and gave me a tight smile. She was still, in all of this turmoil trying to save face in front of the Elizabeth Taylor by affording me a tiny bit of kindness.

“No Malania, you should stay, Michael would probably like to see you first – after all, you’re the reason why he’s here.”

No, Michael is the reason why he is here.

I returned the exact same tense smile. “Thank you Katherine, that is just… so kind… of you.” I made sure she knew that I was also being mock-polite just for show.

“Thanks Liz,” I said a little more genuinely. The two of them left me to it.

I pulled up a chair and sat by his side. I grabbed his hand and laced my fingers through them, kissing the back of his hand. “I love you my beautiful…” I murmured.

I turned to the nurse who came back in after a moment to reset some the IV with a new bag of fluid. “How is he?” I asked.

She gave me a reassuring smile. “He’s doing okay, he’s probably going to need to sleep for awhile. He might be a bit groggy for the next few hours. Just keep talking to him, he’ll wake up soon.”

“Thanks…” I murmured.

Michael didn’t move, but I rested my head upon the mattress that he laid upon and concentrated on the deep rise and fall of his chest. It seemed much more consistent than it had when he was in the shower earlier.

I started to feel angry over the fact that Katherine was berated me for calling 911. If Michael really did get angry with me, he would just have to get over it; I wasn’t sorry and I’d never be sorry. If I had to stand over a coffin and watch him get lowered in to the ground, I’d have been sorry.

I stroked the inside of his wrist and noticed that his upper arm had been bandaged. I was pretty sure it’s where he had harmed himself.

I fell asleep after a short while, forgetting even that I had asked my parents to come. I was exhausted.

I woke up to someone running fingers softly through my hair. I lifted my head, turning to look behind me but I was still alone. I glanced at Michael to find that his eyes were open and he was watching me a little emotionlessly.

“Michael…” I breathed, fresh tears falling immediately from the corners of my eyes. I felt so relieved. “Are you okay?”

He nodded his head slightly. He still seemed weak and lethargic. I grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Sorry…” he murmured. “I’m really sorry…”

I shook my head, “don’t worry, I’m fine. I just want you to be better.” I told him, brushing my tears away.

He reached up and wiped his own tears away. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he informed me regretfully. I didn’t really know what to say, so I didn’t say a thing.

“Who knows I’m here?” he asked.

“Your Mom, Liz is here too, they’re just outside waiting… my parents are on their way—they might even be here, I don’t know…”

“Media?” he asked.

I nodded. He sighed deeply.

He didn’t say anything. He just lifted my hand and kissed it, shifting to his side.

“You should just try to sleep it off.”

“Yeah…” his voice trailed off.

I got the feeling that he didn’t want to face up to what happened. I didn’t blame him.

There was some silence for a little while and I let my eyes fall closed once again. “I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand,” he said after some time.

“I know…” I whispered even though I hadn’t been entirely sure of that.

End Notes:

Okay, there you have it -- chapter 59. Let me know how you liked it, if you didn't like it -- any critisisms, and perhaps maybe what you'd like to see happen next. 

I'll look forward to everyone's reviews :)

skywriter333@gmail.com

Chapter 60 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Will Michael recover? :D

So thanks to a little something that Malania kept referring to as a ‘5150’, the opening arguments of my trial were pushed back for two weeks pending another psych evaluation.

I wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital.

After I’d completely come to, a psychologist had evaluated me. She asked me everything I could think of and pushed me to say more than I was comfortable with. I thought I’d put on a decent show, but still, at the end she said that she couldn’t recommend that I be released. Apparently the hospital’s legal counsel would be presenting documents before the judge that would say I would remain on the involuntary hold.

Anything had to be better than going to court.

Everything happened very quickly. I found myself in a room very similar to the one in which I had visited Malania. My Mom was mad at me, Greg was kinder to me, and the world’s media was intensifying in its quest to find out the real story – or at least the most exciting version of the story.

Liz finalised a couple of employees for me within a few hours of me waking up.

I had a new publicist, PA and manager. Kathleen Robson was the publicist and she had worked with me to release a statement. I immediately liked her; she was kind, sensitive and understood that I wanted to say as little as possible to stop them from speculating.

I dared myself to watch the morning news the very next day.

“Fallen star, Michael Jackson was rushed to hospital overnight with what his camp have confirmed as treatment for a reaction to prescription medication. It is speculated that the troubled singer suffered an overdose; whether or not this was intentional has yet to be confirmed.

Jackson is currently facing a list of sexual abuse charges which heads to court this Tuesday. Some suggest that this is just another carefully crafted move so that he doesn’t have to face the music.

I’d seen enough. I turned the TV off and stared out the window. Couldn’t see much anyway.

 

“Michael, I’m so sorry your girlfriend called the paramedics, you must be so angry, but we’ll work this out, you and I…” said my Mom just before Malania’s parents had taken her home the night before.

I shifted uncomfortably, still lethargic and feeling uncomfortable within my own skin. Malania and I had already spoken briefly about her calling the paramedics, how she felt like there was no other choice. I trusted her judgment. I couldn’t even remember half of it, so I knew I was in no position to argue with her.

I was frustrated that even in this instance my mother was looking for a reason for me to edge Malania out of the picture by blaming her for what I’d done to myself.

“Don’t…” I told her, “this isn’t Mal’s fault… I’m here because I’m… stupid.” I muttered.

“Michael, no… I know you have had problems sleeping, it’s easy to get confused with valium doses—“

What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. I breathed in deeply. She was making my blood pressure rise. I couldn’t even think properly yet she had managed to grate me the wrong way already.

“I think you need to rest, we can deal with the mess that Malania caused later…” she said to me as if she were to blame. If I could have gathered any of my thoughts coherently, I would have told her to leave.

Instead, I said nothing. I felt rotten enough.

“Could you get her for me? Is she still waiting out with her parents?” I asked.

“No,” Mom shook her head at the same time Malania stuck her head back in the door. I was confused for a moment, wondering if she’d come back. She gave me a little smile.

I kind of figured out my Mom had lied. I couldn’t quite figure out why, but I wasn’t in the mood or the state of mind to try to deal with it.

“I know you’re only allowed to have one visitor at a time, but the nurse said I could see you for a moment,” Malania spoke softly and with an upbeat tone that really did make me feel a bit better.

“Come in, please…” I replied.

I reached for her hand. She took it and gave it a squeeze, standing over my bed. Her hair was balled up on top of her head messily and she was wearing a long-sleeved black-knit cardigan with a grey t-shirt. I was pretty sure I had spied her in some light blue jeans.

I managed a smile, managing to still think of how attractive she was even while in my drug-cloud.

 She stood over my bed and leaned over to kiss my forehead. I loved her. It was the nicest feeling to just see her face again. Her very presence gave me comfort and made me feel less awful about the situation I was now facing.

“How are you feeling?” she asked me, “I know I asked that an hour ago…”

“I’m alright, I promise… I just feel dopey,” I replied, feeling the bend of her fingers caressing my cheek lovingly, completely ignoring my mother behind her.

“Good… I’ll be back in the morning, okay? My Mama and Papa want me to go home with them now, but… I can stay if you like, Kaito can get me later.”

“No, no…” I said softly, grabbing her hand upon my face. “You should go with them, I’ll be fine. I can just see you tomorrow.”

“Okay...” she seemed reluctant.

“I hope your parents aren’t mad at me…” I couldn’t help but to murmur.

My Mom had since taken a seat, but I heard her scoff at the suggestion.

“No,” she shook her head, “they’re just concerned about you, my Mama is already thinking of things she can bake for you to soothe your soul.” Malania giggled.

I chuckled too even though every movement made my tummy feel a bit sore. “Are they here?” I pressed, “can I see them?”

“Michael, you need to rest…” my Mom interjected.

“Your Mom is right…” Malania agreed, “you should rest…”

“Just for a second,” I insisted. “Alone,” I added, “I want to chat with your parents alone.” I glanced over at my Mom.

Malania just smiled at me and kissed my lips. “Can you give us a minute please, mother?” I asked.

She didn’t say a word, she got to her feet slowly and left us alone.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Michael…”

“I love you…” I murmured, “and I’m sorry for what I put you through.”

“Let’s talk about it another time, sweetheart…” she replied in a comforting tone. “I’m going to send my parents in very quickly and I’ll see you in the morning.”

I nodded. She kissed me softly on the cheek. “I love you too, by the way…” she added.

I knew she was putting on a brave face just for me. I needed it and I was happy for her smiles, but I also wasn’t an idiot. I knew behind that killer smile was a heavy heart that was probably emotionally scarred for finding me in such a state.

I watched her walk out of the room. I breathed in deeply and let out a long sigh.

I wasn’t sure how Malania’s parents were going to receive me. I didn’t have to wonder for too long. I saw Helena’s face first. It was the same as usual; full of concern and kindness filling the lines on her face.

 

“Hello, Michael…” she whispered. Malania’s father didn’t come in. I didn’t ask questions why; I hoped he wasn’t angry with me.

“Hi…” I greeted her sheepishly.

She moved close to my side and gave me a half-hug and a kiss on both of my cheeks. “Ljubav, are you alright? We are so worried.”

I nodded. “I’m okay, I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“You are very, very, very important Ljubav, you must take care of yourself,” she murmured, “for my Malania; and for you too.”

“Thank you…” I murmured.

“Sleep sweet Michael, we will pray for you as always,” she told me before leaving me to my own devices.

**

The psychologist had been for a chat. I denied trying to kill myself, which is what I was sure they all thought. No one accidentally takes that many uppers…and downers…with alcohol.

“I just wanted to sleep…” I told the psychologist, “I mean, maybe it wasn’t the healthiest way to go about it – but, I had some bad news, I was sad and upset and… I just wanted to go to sleep and not have to worry about it.”

That was really all I had to say about the situation, unsure of whether or not the evaluation ran the risk of going public.

“Hi baby,” Malania greeted me. Her voice was soft as she stepped in to my room, closing the door behind her.

“Hello yourself…” I replied. She looked beautiful. Her hair was swept up a bit messily and she was wearing the same jeans from the day before with a pair of chucks. Her sweater belonged to me. It made me smile, a pink one with Mickey Mouse.

I wondered when she had stolen it.

She came to my bedside. I shifted on to my side, propping myself up a little. She gave me a hug and a gentle kiss upon my lips. She had a little messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

“You look gorgeous…” I remarked. “As always…”

“Thanks,” she flashed me a brief smile. “How are you feeling?” she pulled up a chair right by my bedside.

“I’m okay. I had the psych eval this morning. I guess they’ll let me know if I can go home or not.”

Malania’s expression was very serious; as if she were thinking of other things. She didn’t seem as upbeat as she had been the night before.

“Michael…” she began, her voice trailing off. I stared in to her almond-shaped eyes expectantly. “I barely slept last night…”

“I’m sorry,” I apologised quietly. I felt awful that she had to find me in the state that I’d been in. I almost wished that I’d called the paramedics before things got out of hand.

She stared down at her hands for a moment, ignoring my apology. “Are you angry with me, Michael? For calling the paramedics?” she asked.

“No…”

“Not at all, you’re not one bit miffed that this is now a media issue?” she pressed.

“I don’t like that this is a media issue,” I told her, “but I don’t blame you. I’m certainly not angry with you, this is certainly not your fault.” I needed to be perfectly clear.

“Why do I feel so… responsible when I turn on the TV? I mean, you had to hire a freaking team of people to sort this out…” I watched her wipe a tear that found it’s way down her cheek.

I slowly sat up, I was still feeling a bit light-headed, but I wasn’t really concerned about that. I leaned over, reaching for her arm. “Mal, no,” I said firmly, “I really messed up, this is not your fault. It’s mine and I don’t want you to be upset.”

“I am upset, Michael,” she replied, looking up at me with tears in her eyes, “I found you… laying in your own vomit… your eyes were rolled in to the back of your head, I thought you might be dead.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat, feeling both embarrassed and horribly guilty for putting her in that position.

“Why did you take all of those pills? Why couldn’t you just wait for me to get back and talk to me?”

I laid back and stared at the ceiling. There was silence between us. I tried to search for the right words that would have made everything that I did okay. But there was nothing.

“I guess I was embarrassed… I was embarrassed that I let you see me in such a state; not just you but Kaito and Greg. I’m a man and you are my girlfriend; it’s humiliating…and, I just… felt like I was disappointing everyone, but—“

“But how could this outcome have ever been any better than me seeing you cry?” she asked, her voice rising with emotion.

“I …I don’t know, Mal, obviously I didn’t mean to—“ I sighed.

“We can’t keep doing this, Michael, this isn’t healthy…” she blurted out. She got up from her chair and paced. One hand on her hip and the other pulling her hair out of the restraint and running her fingers through it.

I’d noticed she did this often when we first began hanging out. Whenever she was nervous or stressed out, she undid and redid her hair repeatedly.

There was a little part of me that was worried about what was going to come out of her mouth next.

“What isn’t?”

This…” she dropped her hands from her head where she had just retied her hair, piling it all upon the crown of her head. “We can’t just keep saving each other, it’s stupid and destructive.”

I felt like I was being admonished. And I knew I deserved every bit of it.

“I know…”

“We shouldn’t be running away from each other; we need to be running to each other, Michael, this is bullshit. I did not need to see you in that state that I found you…”

“I know.” I repeated.

“How can you expect me to face my demons when you won’t face yours?” she asked pointedly.

I began to feel myself getting frustrated. I sat forward again.

“Malania,” I breathed in, “Casey was like my kid; every time I close my eyes she is there. Every time I open them, I think of her. Then I get a visit from my damn lawyer and he’s telling me that this child, that I spent all of my fucking time with, that I cared for, that I---“ I sputtered, “that I fucking nursed to good health while her mother emotionally checked out on us, is accusing me of molesting her!”

She seemed to slightly retreat.

“I know, Michael, I get it—and my brother raped me and I go to sleep with that demon and wake up to that every morning as well, but I have learned to turn to you or to my shrink when I am struggling. You promised me that you were clean…”

“I messed up.” I said again.

“Do you know, Michael, I put you to bed last night and I laid next to you with my hand on your chest because I was afraid it might stop.”

I didn’t remember that.

She pushed her sleeves up and finally sat back down again. “I love you, but I will not do that again. I will not search high and low for my boyfriend and then stick around long enough to watch the paramedics take him away. I mean it, this cannot happen again.”

“Okay…” I replied in almost a whisper.

“I made a vow never to cut again…” she told me firmly, staring at the scars on her arms. “I know I’ll probably slip up once or twice, but I am getting help. You promised me over a month ago that you were going to see a shrink and you still haven’t bothered yourself to keep that promise.”

It was true. I still wasn’t able to bring myself to sit down with someone.

It felt like I was just continually apologising for my behaviour.

“And if you slipped up again, Michael, that would be okay if I knew you were taking the right steps to help yourself – but you’re not. Everything you’ve preached to me—it just seems so hypocritical.”

She held her face in her hands again; staring down at the squeaky, white linoleum.

“So what are you saying?” I asked gingerly.

“I’m saying that unless you make good with your promise and get some help, then I can’t sit around and watch you destroy yourself.”

“I didn’t destroy myself, Malania, I took a few pills and I got confused with what I’d taken and it got a little out of ha-“

“A little!?” she exploded, “For goodness sakes, Michael, I couldn’t even count the amount of pills that Liz and I found inside your apartment!” she exclaimed, “Adderall, Demerol, Valium, Diazepam, Lorazapam, -- all the fucking pams!”

“Then!” she continued, “as if that wasn’t enough, Liz was mad at me for calling the paramedics—she thought I was overreacting and she only defended me in front of your mother after the doctor said that you could have died and that I made the right decision…”

I became a little emotional, feeling like perhaps I wasn’t taking what I did to myself seriously enough.

“All your Mom could say was that my calling 911 was irresponsible. That you would be mad at me for it and that I had no idea what I was causing—and I realised, your Mom loves you, sure, but she’s all about saving face. I couldn’t give a shit what people think about you or me, so long as you are safe. I want my boyfriend alive, not just existing Michael, but living.”

I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands.

“So…” she said, getting up, “get your shit together, Jackson, let’s fight this together, not separate—and after we win, then and only then can you concern yourself with Casey Hargrove’s welfare.”

With that, she left my room.

I hadn’t expected her to just leave. Maybe she needed to leave me alone with my thoughts; to let everything that she said sink in.

**

My own doctor had turned up. I was so glad for that.

I was just about done talking to people. The media had speculated that I had a drug overdose, but we were just sticking to the story: a reaction to some a prescription medication. It was actually the truth; I’d certainly had a reaction.

I’d certainly caused all types of reactions too.

Malania hadn’t come back, but Elizabeth had. She told me that Malania had been sitting in the corridor with her mother, talking and crying for me. I knew she wasn’t dealing with what had happened very well, and yet no amount of ‘I’m sorry’ could fix that.

“I think I’ve ruined things between us…” I worried out loud to my friend.

Liz shook her head, “no, I think she just needs a minute to recover from it… we talked, she said she’d be back; her mother wanted to take her home for some sleep.”

“Okay…” I accepted that as the truth.

Liz left when the doctor arrived.

Dr. Pearson was a nice, white haired gentleman that reminded me slight of Colonel Sanders. Every now and then he wore a red bow tie that sent me over the edge and kept me giggling uncontrollably every time that I looked at him. He took it good-naturedly and never took offense, thankfully.

“Michael, the nurse said you’d been very communicative with what happened, with everything you remembered taking and compliant with all the treatment that you’ve received,” he explained, looking over my chart.

I nodded, none of that was news to me.

“I don’t believe you are suicidal nor does the psychologist who evaluated you. So, it’s going to be my recommendation that you be released tonight or tomorrow, pending an ECG and blood work. But-“

“Dr. Pearson, I think I need to talk to someone…” I blurted out. “I didn’t mean for what happened to happen, but… I don’t trust myself and—I can’t let this happen again.”

He nodded. “That was my next suggestion. Michael, I agree. There is a lot going on in your life right now and I believe that that is overwhelming you and impairing your capability to think logically—especially when you are upset.”

I nodded. I felt self-conscious. It was not often I shared something so personal with someone I didn’t know so well. I crossed my arms across my chest, feeling suddenly very defensive of my behaviours.

I couldn’t help it.

“Is there going to be someone who can look after you for a few days?” he asked me when he realised I wasn’t really going to elaborate further on my own state of mind.

I nodded even though I wasn’t sure if Malania was still going to be around when I left.

If not, I’d ask Liz to stay with me for a few days.

I hoped I hadn’t blown my chances with Malania and her family. I started to feel sick for different reasons.

“Yeah… I can organise someone…” my voice trailed off finally.

*

Relief washed over me when Malania came back later that evening. She looked a little less serious and a little more relaxed.

“Boy, am I glad to see your face…” I smiled, nervous to see her reaction to me.

She returned the smile and came to my side. I was sitting up, free of the IV that had been encumbering my wrist for the past 18 or so hours. I was sipping some orange juice and had promised the nurse that I would attempt to eat a little of the soup that was in the bowl on the hospital table before me.

It wasn’t amazing, but I was trying.

“You look healthier this evening,” she remarked. She sat down on the edge of my bed. I was happier for the closeness.

“I am feeling better too,” I added. As if to prove it, I took a spoonful of the watery soup and swallowed it, ignoring my stomach that was still raw and aching.

“Good… I wanted to say, I’m sorry for losing my patience with you earlier…” she started.

“No, don’t be sorry – I’m glad you were hones-“

“Let me finish,” she interrupted, “I am sorry that I lost my patience. When you found me cutting—the time before I went in to treatment, remember? When I was at your house?”

I nodded. I remembered that moment very well. I caught her in the guest room, ripping her skin open with a pair of nail scissors that I still was unsure as to where she got them.

“You didn’t get mad at me, you just helped me… you didn’t complain, you talked to me about it and you never gave me any ultimatums…”

I nodded again.

“But… I really can’t… I can’t let what happened yesterday happen to you again, Michael, I love you too much to watch you kill yourself, even if you meant to or not-“

“I’m going to get help…” I blurted out. “I promise, I have already spoken to my doctor.”

It seemed to be what she wanted to hear. “I don’t want to give you an ultimatum Michael, and I never want you to think I’d just leave your side – but I also have to take care of myself.”

“I get it… I’m your boyfriend,” I spoke softly, taking her hand in both of mine and kissing it. “I have to look out for you, not just leave you hanging. What I did was totally selfish but I guess what I did was totally reactive… I sometimes can’t handle my emotions and in the past I’ve been ridiculed or berated for how much I feel…”

“But I’m not anyone else, Michael, I’m Malania… you can cry as much as you like, you can yell and scream as much as you like – I’d prefer that over you taking a pile of drugs and ending up here…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you…” she said softly. “I love you and I’m going to stay here with you until you go to sleep tonight.”

I shook my head and smiled. “I’m going home. My doctor came to see me, they found that I wasn’t a threat to myself or anyone else and I’ve agreed to see the psychologist that Dr. Pearson is putting in a referral to…”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “I was hoping you’d come back to Neverland with me tonight…”

“Of course,” she smiled, “I’ll look after you,” she leaned over and kissed my lips. I immediately pulled away, covering my mouth with my hand.

“Sorry,” I apologised, “I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

She made a face before chuckling. “Gross… since when?”

“I’m too embarrassed to admit—in fact, I’ll be so happy to get home and have a shower and use my toothbrush.”

Malania chuckled again but noticeably wiped her mouth. “Well, how are you getting home?” she asked, “should I organise a car or something for you?”

I shook my head, “No, my new manager, Martin is going to call me in about an hour to let me know what’s happening.”

“Oh, a new manager. I saw Liz organised the PR girl as well – must feel nice to have things restored; can’t be easy trying to organise these things yourself.”

“I was avoiding it,” I told her. “I should have sorted this out awhile ago—but I didn’t want to face anything.”

“Well… if it helps, at first the news were saying you had a drug overdose, but since Kathleen released the statement, they are more sympathetic to you. You have fans everywhere – and then Kathleen put together a statement thanking them…”

I was really relieved to hear that.

“Thanks for letting me know. I watched the news this morning and it made me feel sick.”

“Well all will be okay, my beautiful,” she told me. I loved the way that she took my face in her hands and looked in to my eyes. I knew I could never disappoint her like this again.

“I’m so glad you came back… I was scared you wouldn’t.”

“When I found you last night, I sat beside you and I promised you over and over that I wouldn’t leave your side—and I won’t.”

 That was like music to my ears…

End Notes:

Please leave a review... keeps me motivated to keep writing :)

Thanks! 

Chapter 61 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Okay folks, I'm BACK from my hiatus. Things will be er... heating up, between these two over the next few chapters :) Enjoy and please leave me some feedback :) 

I felt free and maybe I was just caught up in the moment, but Kaito had gone home for a few nights to give me some space with Michael. It was just us finally. I felt like we could both do with some quiet time together without having to worry about a third wheel.

Leaving the hospital had been … an experience. Michael insisted that I leave separately. Carsen escorted me to a black Mercedes that was parked in the street waiting for me.

Michael made an appearance as he left the hospital. He had cloaked himself in a large, heavy black jacket and hid his face, waving to everyone and blowing kisses weakly as he made his way to the car.

He slipped in beside me and we were whisked back to Neverland, slowly since we were being high-tailed by paparazzi.

Michael slept some of the way, resting his head on my shoulder. He snuggled in to me warmly. It felt nice and relaxing to know that he was actually okay.

I had been through so many emotions over the previous 36 hours and had actually surprised myself. At no point did the notion of cutting in to my skin ever enter my mind.

**

I went and stripped and made Michael’s bed for him so that he had clean sheets to get in to. He changed in to a fresh set of pyjamas and was about to get beneath the sheets. Something stopped him.

He leaned over, picking up a balled up bit of paper from down the left side of his bed. He unravelled it. I felt my cheeks flushing briefly; realizing that it was the song that I’d found that he’d written with my name on it.

He threw me a quizzical look. “Did you do this?” he asked.

I knew my sheepish look said all that I needed to say. I nodded, “Yeah, I found it by accident… sort of.”

He rose an eyebrow and smoothed it out. “Why is it balled up like garbage?” He slid beneath the sheets, still holding it in his hand, examining the words. He didn’t seem angry, perhaps a little bit confused.

“Well--  I wasn’t snooping,” I said slowly as I took a seat at the foot of his bed. “I was a bit panicked yesterday morning and I was looking for drugs… or a phone number or something, a hint of where you might be… and I came across it.”

His eyes examined the handwriting on the paper, as if he were familiarising himself with it. “What did you think?” he asked, taking me by surprise.

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and felt my cheeks flush. “It’s sweet… but I was so mad at you in that moment, professing all of these feelings on the page and then… disappearing—I didn’t understand, that’s why it was balled up.”

“I suppose logic wasn’t my strongest point in that moment, but…” I could tell he didn’t want to get a lecture again and honestly, I was exhausted too, I didn’t really want to give one.

“but what do I think of the song?” I finished his sentence for him.

He just nodded with a little smile.

“I think it’s great… I was a bit surprised to see it, I didn’t know you thought about that sort of stuff.”

Michael patted the empty space beside him. I crawled up to fill it and lay on my side facing him. He smiled at me, reaching for my hand. “What do you mean, ‘that sort of stuff’?” he questioned me.

I shrugged, taking the bit of paper from him and overlooking it again.

“I’ll be lovin’ you, that’s what I want to do…” the line stood out and made my heart beat quicken for a moment.

“Spend all day in bed with me, ‘loving’ me…” I supplied bravely. I knew my cheeks were rosey, but I wasn’t twelve and neither was he. How could I expect that he didn’t think about that?

He chuckled, “Of course that’s what I’d prefer spending my day doing over … well, a lot of other things…” he gave me a cheeky grin. “No pressure though—“

“I know…” I nodded with a little shrug. “I guess it’s just that… it kind of … sometimes remains an unspoken part of our relationship.”

He laughed again. He sounded tired and fatigued but he was definitely very chatty now that the drugs had entirely worn off. “I don’t mind…”

“Can we talk about it?” I asked, wanting to smooth out my own insecurities once and for all.

“Sure…” he was staring at the ceiling, but he turned his body to face me and gave me his full attention. He gave me a reassuring smile.

I fell silent for a few moments, thinking about what I wanted to say. I finally gave a red-faced chuckle, feeling my body start to grow hot and if not a little panicked.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, “we’re both adults, sweetheart, let’s have this discussion. He stroked my cheek, as if trying to smooth the pink out of them.

“I know, but… I guess I don’t want to ask stupid questions that make me feel like a 12 year old.”

Michael laughed. I knew he wasn’t laughing at me, just the fact that I was so tense.

“Baby, I love you…” he sighed contentedly, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “You know, this is just like anything, you have less experience than I do in this area, so you are asking questions, there’s nothing stupid about it… And, it’s not like one of those things you could ask just anybody about—it’s personal,” he explained, “so why couldn’t you talk about it with the guy that you’re going to potentially have all the sex in the world with!” he joked, making me burst out laughing, doing a good job at keeping the conversation light-hearted.

I inched a bit closer to him and felt him rest his hand on my hip. “I guess…” I felt very self-conscious. “I’m really nervous about the whole thing… for so many reasons,” I hesitated to continue.

He didn’t laugh at me, he didn’t tell me not to worry, he simply listened. “Okay,” he nodded slowly, “what else?” I reached for his hand, pulling it from my hip and laced my fingers between his.

“I’m scared about having someone’s Frankenstein penis anywhere near me…” I half-joked.

He cracked up, holding his tummy and making me laugh too. “Malania, you are crazy…I don’t have a… Frankenstein …p…penis,” we both broke in to laughter again.

He shook his head at me, grinning. I inched closer again and he kissed my temple lovingly as he calmed down from his laughing fit. “Okay, okay, Frankenstein penis concern noted. What else?”

I laughed again. “And, what if it feels like …” I paused, careful not to get too serious again. I didn’t want to bring up my brother, but… that was part of my concern, that my trauma would outweigh wanting to let Michael love me. “Well, what if I’m one of those girls who just don’t like sex? You know, the ‘I have a headache right now,’ kinda girl?” I chickened out and re-worded what I wanted to say.

“Okay, so… you’re overthinking it…” he said seriously, “I only know what sex is like from a male perspective. I know that it’s a new experience for you,” we both avoided acknowledging that it wasn’t entirely new to me, “I know that it might seem nerve-wracking, but we’ll figure it out, I promise.”

I just smiled, glad for the real conversation; glad for the fact that he didn’t make me feel like a complete baby.

“When I first lost my virginity, I did it with a girl who was probably a bit more experienced, it was over with before I could even blink…” he laughed a little at the embarrassing memory. “But, you’re not a guy, you don’t have to worry about that happening.”

I laughed too. “How old were you, when you slept with that girl, the fan… I don’t think I asked.”

He shrugged and thought about it for a moment. “I think I was about 18 or 19…” he replied, “it was a fan who… I say had a lot of experience because as I found out later, she’d made her way through my brothers…”

I made a disgusted face. “Until what, she finally hit the prize?” I joked.

We both laughed.

“It was awful, Mal, I swear…” he shook his head and covered his eyes with his hands. “I was so embarrassed and shocked by how quick it was over…”

I grinned at him, snickering. “Serves you right for sleeping with a little whore bag.”

“I didn’t know… I mean, she was introduced to me as Tito’s friend… we hung out all night and then my brother told me to go for it—that she liked me and so I talked myself up, trying to be a big man…. And then that.” He grimaced at the memory.

I breathed a sigh of relief, “I don’t feel that silly now…”

He smiled at me and brushed a bit of hair from my face. “I think you’ll be fine. You won’t be crap at it. I hope it’ll be a positive experience, it might be a bit odd, but over time it’ll be great and then you build up the need to want to keep expressing your love that way…” he shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant, “well, at least that’s how it was for me… and if you trust someone completely, it’ll bring you closer to that person.”

“I’m still scared,” I admitted.

A slow smirk crossed his lips, “it’s cos of my giant size?he teased me jokingly.

I laughed, “you’re an idiot…”

He cracked himself up, “Oh man…” he breathed as if he was calming down from his giggles. He propped himself up on his elbow—I noticed the conversation certainly made him perk up a little bit. He was only human.

A human who hadn’t had sex in quite some time.

“Okay, I promise you, that when the time is right, I’ll do all the right things... I will be as patient as you need me to be. If we have a few false starts, I’ll be totally okay with that.”

I nodded and smiled, trying to keep from blushing. “And also… Michael, what if I’m a bit insecure about my body?” I added, absently, feeling much more confident, getting everything off my chest.

“Why?” he asked, “you have a beautiful body… and I can’t wait, quite frankly, to see what you’ve got hiding under there…” as if to prove a point, he lifted the hem of the sweater I was wearing, pretending to take a peek.

I slapped his hand away. “Scales,” I joked, “I have scales” He laughed and nudged me as if to tell me to stop paying myself out. “No, but you have to say that, you are in the business of having sex with me now…” I told him with a smile.

He laughed, “Sweetheart… you don’t dress in a box, you’re not shapeless, you have a beautiful shape…”

I found it a little confronting to hear him talking about me and thus admitting he had taken great attention to detail of my body. My face reddened as I looked away from his and down to our hands laying inside of each others. “I’ve seen you wear tights, I’ve seen you wear a form-fitting dress, tank tops...” he listed a few items of clothing.

“Honestly, at this point the only thing that could deter me at this point was if you had a super hairy chest…”

I laughed. “I like that it only has to be super hairy. Like, just hairy would be okay with you.”

We laughed and he shrugged, “you could get a wax, I guess…” he added before laughing more.

He flopped back down on his side. “Seriously, do you feel most of those insecurities cos of—“

“He who shall not be named?” I supplied, “yes, probably… I guess he doesn’t help, lingering in the back of my mind.” I felt a little guilty for even saying it out loud. I shrugged the feeling away. “It’s okay though, I’m almost 23, Michael, I’ve never had a serious boyfriend, I have more than just one reason to feel a bit insecure, I guess.”

He gave me a little sympathetic smile and scooted over closer, encircling his arms around me warmly. I was tired too. “Don’t worry my heart, it’ll be fine. No insecurity, a giant skilled penis, no anxiety will be able to stop us from having an amazing love-life, I’m sure of it.” He spoke seriously but giggled over the fact that he still hadn’t gotten over my penis comment. I just smiled, shaking my head at him his inability to let it go.

Typical boy.

“I know all of that just by how much I love you and the way you feel about me too, we’ll be fine.”

“I love you…” I murmured, allowing him to snuggle close.

“Me too…” he replied.

I lifted my head and met his lips for a kiss.

“Now, how does my most precious feel about having a nap? I think we both could do with one…”

I nodded, “I’m okay with that.”

**

I woke up in the early evening to Michael’s voice. He was speaking in a hushed tone, but was standing at the foot of the bed, holding the olive green handset in one hand and the receiver with the other against his ear.

He was pacing back and forth. I just rolled over and closed my eyes. I really didn’t want to get back up. It was so warm in his bed.

“Yeah…I know…” he sounded tired. His voice was still a bit croaky.

He listened for a few moments before giving a sigh.

“Yeah, I do know that. Part of my treatment is some therapy sessions to help me deal with it a little more maturely… I don’t really want to talk about it though…”

More silence.

“K, yeah, if we can meet on Tuesday morning, that would be great,” he suggested to the person on the other line.

“Yeah, here at Neverland, is that alright?”

“Okay, thank you Greg… thanks for calling. I promise I’ll be better… no bullshit this time.”

He gave a weak chuckle. “See you soon, man…”

I heard him making his way back to his side of the bed. He placed the phone down quietly. I felt his weight sinking back down and the sheets lifting. He scooted close to me until he was touching me. He stroked my hair, gently trying to wake me up.

A smile made its way across my lips. “I don’t want to get up… it’s so warm…”

“Me either… but maybe we should eat?”

“Maybe…” I rolled over to face him, stretching a little bit. “Was that Greg?” I asked, referring to the phone call.

“Yeah… I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Mother told me this morning that my trial date has been pushed back for two weeks…”

I nodded, “Yeah, I heard that… Liz called Greg last night after she organised those people for you. How do you feel about that?”

He shrugged. “Relieved… but still like there’s an awful cloud above me that won’t let me relax for too long.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what else to say to it.

“Well… actually, I have a plan—I was thinking about it after you left this morning when you got mad at me…”

“I wasn’t mad at you, Michael, I was just really shocked by what had happened and I unfortunately I unloaded all of my feelings out loud, I’m sorry if that upset you.”

“You didn’t upset me, if anything…” he explained, “I needed to hear that, it brought me back to reality and out of my selfish stupor.”

I reached up, caressing his smooth his cheek. “I wish it didn’t take that…”

There was some quiet for a moment. I ended it by kissing his lips softly.

“What’s the plan?” I prompted him, pulling away.

“Greg is coming on Tuesday and I’m going to spend the day with him going over everything. We are going to go through each person that he and Sharon have spoken to, the evidence that has been introduced and then we’re going to go over the past few years of Diane in my life…”

I smiled, proud of his planning and his headspace. “Sounds like you have a clear mind… but I’m sure it’s going to be trying, could be emotionally exhausting.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s going to be, but I have a referral for a really good therapist from Dr. Pearson who I can use as my sounding board.”

“Good…”

“I meant to ask,” he began, “but I wasn’t entirely prepared earlier for the answer – what happened with my Mother?”

I shifted a little uncomfortably, trying to remain diplomatic. I didn’t want to come between him and any member of his family. That wasn’t what I was about and I didn’t need to give Katherine another reason to dislike me.

“Tell me the truth…” he commanded gently, looking in to my eyes, smoothing my arm.

I loved the way his dark, soulful eyes drowned in mine. I almost smiled at the thought but brought myself back, remembering his question.

“Mmm… your Mom was mad that I called the paramedics. I was angry that no one was making an effort to call them—we put you in the shower when we found you but you weren’t coming to, and so we put you to bed, Liz kept telling me it was fine… and she called her doctor for advice, but I wasn’t waiting, I went to the office and called from another line and demanded someone come immediately… Liz was mad, but she wasn’t rude or anything—I don’t think she realised that it was serious.”

“I hope you know, Liz would never intentionally put my life before caring about what the media think…” he hesitantly defended her actions.

“I realise that, but I don’t come from a background of having to be so conscious of what other people might think so it seemed really irresponsible to me… and your mother really didn’t accept it, even after Liz conceded and said that it was the smartest choice anyone had made all day, your mother didn’t like it… And again, I don’t think it was because she doesn’t care, more because your mother thinks you can do absolutely no wrong and probably refused to believe it was such a dire situation.”

He agreed with that. “I vaguely remember her making a strange comment when I woke up—about how she and I were going to take care of the media together…”

I just chuckled and shrugged. “I don’t know Michael; I’m sure that you’re very deeply loved, but to me you’re a person not an entity or a product. I don’t give a shit what the media think or how it can affect our lives if it is going to get in the way of your or my health. We are useless to one another if neither of us are around…”

I didn’t care if it was confronting to hear me say all that out loud – to brazenly show my disregard for what other people thought of us.

I knew as far as I knew it, my privacy had ended as of leaving the treatment centre, but I wasn’t too concerned. I knew I probably wouldn’t always feel that dismissive of my lack of privacy, but for the moment I chose not to worry about it.

Surprisingly, he said nothing and pressed his lips against mine.

“You’d be surprised by how much I needed to hear that…” he said softly.

He looked in to my eyes and tried to read what I was thinking. Rather than waiting for me to say something, he pressed his lips back on top of mine. He moved the kisses from my lips, to my cheek, my eyelids, my temples, my ears and finally my earlobes.

I tilted my head to the side, allowing him more room. He caught the shell of my ear between his lips and kissed his way to my lobe. Goosebumps rose to the surface of my skin.

He grazed his lips down toward my neck, finding my most sensitive place where my nape met my collarbone.

I let out a soft sigh that could have also been mistaken for a quiet whimper.

He worked his mouth in that sensitive spot, grabbing my hands and lacing his fingers through them, pushing me gently on to my back.

I linked my arm around his waist, gripping on to his shirt, enjoying our closeness and trying to quiet my internal dialogue.

I couldn’t.

I took three, calm, deep breaths and let go of his hand. I tried to guide his kisses back to my lips but I could feel his hand reaching for the hem of the sweater that I was wearing.

“Michael…” I finally spoke up, trying to press pause on a panic attack that was hastily brewing because of his actions.

“Sorry…” he said quickly, “sorry…”

“No, its okay,” I murmured. He lifted his head and glanced at me, trying to determine why I’d stopped him. “I mean, you should be resting…”

He gave me a goofy grin that I tried my best to return. “This is probably a good cure for whatever ails me…”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

The fact of the matter was that almost 24 hours earlier I had found him ready to take to flight to the heavens that he wrote about in his song. Surely, he couldn’t have felt suddenly fine.

His grin faded. He kissed me on the lips as if to finalise our little … moment.

“We should get up then…”

“You stay in bed…” I replied, “I could get you something to eat.”

“No, I don’t want to eat, my stomach feels too raw…” he complained.

“K,well…let’s just rest, okay? I’m tired too…”

We turned the television on. I went to get Michael some water and made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It wasn’t exactly nutritious, but all I really wanted to do was to go back to sleep—and I’m pretty sure that he felt the same.

Chapter 62 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

As some of you know this story went to somewhat of a hiatus due to home life being up in the air with my mums ill-health. I think I need to start channelling my stress in to my writing or else Ill end up the size of a house with all of my stress eating, lol. So I'm back.... I think. I really want to spend the time to finish this story... and then Ill focus on finishing STT. 

Thanks for being so patient and for the emails and kindness I've received while I've been "away" ...so please enjoy this chapter. I just sat here and re-read it and it gave me a silly grin... good lord I miss Michael. 

Things felt a little bit stressful, but strangely my head felt clearer. Maybe it was the comfort of Malania or maybe it was the fact that my attorney was treating me with the bedside manner of a pediatrician with the kind of patience that could only be applauded.

“Sweetheart,” I called out to Malania. She was in the kitchen. I smiled as I made my way down the hall from the stairs landing. I found her, giving me just a tiny bit of her attention as she looked up from the fry pan.

“Yeah?”

“I had a thought…” I said. She was wearing a pair of long pink pajama pants and one of my white v-necks. I loved it when she wore my clothes. It was just a little bit sexy. I came behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

I could see her cheeks contracting in to a grin. I rested my chin on her shoulder. “We have three days til the trial starts… I’m not allowed to leave the state, I don’t think, but… do you want to go for a drive and stay somewhere for a night or two? Just to have those last few days as a wind down?”

There was an ulterior motive, I was hoping for a little bit of romance. I was being kind and patient, but it was hard to share the same bed with my girlfriend most nights and have her constantly pushing me away when things began to heat up.

I wanted to set the scene. I wanted to love her without her freaking out. I was careful not to be cheesy, but I knew sometimes that she really did prefer a little bit of cheesy romance.

“What, alone? Without security?” she asked, turning her head and raising an eyebrow as if I was crazy.

“No… well, we can drive… Carsen can follow if he needs… I just feel like I need a little bit of freedom-“ I knew that we both knew what I meant without having to say it out loud.

She raised an eyebrow at me, “is this a ruse to lure me to a hotel and get me in to bed?”

I laughed. I knew she was joking. “My heart, I wouldn’t have to try too hard, you’re always a little bit of a willing participant in getting you in to my bed.”

My lips met hers for a short, soft kiss. I felt her chuckle.

In the week and a half since my hospital stay, we had seemed to enjoy the mundane calmness between us. She went to her therapy, I went to my first two psychologist sessions and I had been working close with Greg every other day to find out our plan of attack.

I was scared though. I knew that was normal, we had talked about it in therapy, my fears of dying in a jail cell, or never being able to get my fame back.

Malania had been supportive but she also made it clear that she wasn’t going to tolerate any tantrums from me. Three days earlier I had refused to get out of bed and talked about cancelling my therapist appointment, she had met me with some tough love and it was enough to make me pull my shit together.

“Well…” she began as she continued to scrape the fry pan, scrambling some eggs for me. She made me breakfast every day and made me eat even on the days where I tried to refuse meals. I had always used food as a way to make me feel in control of situations—a little habit I had picked up since I was a teenager.

It was something else we had touched on in therapy.

I felt like even though everything was complicated, I was able to organise my thoughts more clearly and nothing was as overwhelming as it had seemed each time the phone rang or I turned on the television.

“What’ll we do?”

“We could go to Santa Barbara Pier, go stay at a nice place…” I shrugged, letting go and leaning against the cupboard, “I just thought it could be nice to have a little getaway…”

“Okay,” she said simply, “lets do it – when did you want to go?”

“I guess I could call Carsen and see if we can organise something for today… do you want to do some calling around and find us a nice place to stay?”

She smiled at me, seeming suddenly excited. “Really?”

“Yeah… of course, we’ll try to do something like a ‘normal’ couple…” I grinned at her.

“And if we get recognised?” she asked.

I shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world – does it matter, really?”

“Nope,” she smiled, “I’m always proud to be seen with you.”

Sometimes I became afraid that being with me would at some time become too hard for her, that she might feel like what others were saying about me were true and that she’d take a step back… but she often shared her unflinching proudness of having me in her life and it put all those silly fears to bed.

“Okay, is there anything I can do here?” I asked, “to help?” I added.

“Nothing, baby…” she replied, “just grab me a plate and I’ll finish up here.”

 

I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face as I went to fetch two plates for our breakfast.

**

I watched my beautiful girl walk around the room with excitement when she realised there was a second level to our suite. She pulled me upstairs with her to check out the views. I knew she wasn’t a stranger to luxury hotels given that her father received all kinds of benefits as a pilot in his younger years, but she was obviously never spoiled by their fortune.

She turned to me and grinned at me, showing me that cute little dimple that always drove me crazy. “This is amazing…” she exclaimed, “look at that view…” she grabbed my hand and pulled me to the balcony that overlooked the ocean.

We had a loft-style villa with a small private pool. I was excited to go swimming; it was always one of my favourite things to do. I had to be careful of the sun these days, but the pool was shaded heavily which allowed that extra bit of privacy for us that I was glad for.

I was content to see her so happy and relaxed. Every now and then she seemed to clam up and need some time alone. I understood and respected it, but sometimes it worried me that she still didn’t share all of her feelings with me.

She opened the balcony doors and let the humid breeze enter through. I felt my own tension dissipate and my body begin to relax. “Look, Mal…” I called, drawing my eyes from her to the coffee table in the middle of the living area. I was reluctant to draw attention to myself by getting on to the balcony; instead I enjoyed the view of her standing by the rail looking over at the beach.

I made my way to the complimentary gift that was left for us.

I couldn’t help but to chuckle. The owner of The Harbor Inn in Santa Barbara was a long time friend of mine; he got the idea I was bringing my ‘lady-friend’ as he put it, for two night’s of romancing. He left us a bottle of wine and a platter of fruit and cheeses.

“Oh nice…” she picked up the wine and glanced at the label. “I’m no wine connoisseur, but free wine is always good…”

I laughed, “this is a good wine,” I told her, “it’s a Dom Perignon Rosé, bit of a top shelf classic.”

She forgot the view at the balcony and advanced back toward me.

Malania rose her eyebrow at me, “I thought you didn’t drink much.”

I shrugged, “I don’t… in fact rarely, but—I’ve been around the traps long enough to see what all the cool cats drink,” I told her, “and I have had a glass of Rosé or two in my time… there’s a lot you don’t know about me, see?” I joked.

She laughed, “Yeah… that your drink of choice is a pink girly drink, did you grow a vagina with that too?” she teased me.

If anyone else had ever spoken like that to me I would have taken great offense but that was just her; blunt and smart-alecky. I gave her a gentle shove away from me as though I was horribly offended.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, “not nice!”

“Well I don’t have a va…” I could barely even say the word out loud without my cheeks flushing. It wasn’t ever the word I would have used.

She started to laugh at me, “its okay Michael, you can say it… va-gi-na.”

We laughed together and I could feel my cheeks heating up a little. “That sounds so wrong…”

“Why?” she questioned, “it is what it is… just a heads up, don’t ever use the p word..” she gave a mock-shudder.

“What, penis?!” I asked, shocked.

“Firstly,” she began, narrowing her eyes, “no, that is not the word I was referring to. I was referring to the other name for a cat and also vagina…”

I began to laugh. “Pussy…” I teased her, “that word? What don’t you like about it?”

She made a disgusted face. “Don’t say it, Michael, it gives me the heebie jeebies… I promise you, you’ll never, ever get near me if you keep saying it, even as a joke…”

I giggled, “Okay, okay, I better shut up – in the interest of being able to love up on you—“ I added.

She gave me a close-lipped smile that allowed me to know she was totally okay with me making a move on her at some stage.

“What do you want to do first?” I asked her, slinging my arms over her shoulders. It was hard to leave the hotel and go too many places without actually being recognised.

She kissed me softly on the lips and shrugged “Maybe we should wait til it starts getting dark and then go for a walk along the wharf… maybe a swim.”

I felt my lips upturning in to a smile. “Really? You want to swim?” I had invited Malania to swim with me a couple of times since we’d been back at Neverland, but she declined every time—I figured she was too shy to dress down to her bathing suit in front of me.

“Yeah…” she nodded, “its warm—I could swim.”

“Well—I’m not going to turn you down there… hope you brought your bathing suit.”

She laughed, “you’d like if I forgot it, wouldn’t you?” she asked, fixing the collar on my plaid shirt.

I felt myself blush slightly at her light flirting. “Well, I’d lie if I said no...”

She shoved me away playfully.

I reached for her and pulled her back gently toward me. “What if, for now… we unwind, our bags should be up in a moment—we could find an in house movie to watch and order some room service for lunch…”

I knew there was a part of her that probably wanted to go out and walk around in the fresh air – and I did too, but my life had always been this way and I more than accepted it. I admired her willingness to be able to just go with it even when it wasn’t her lifestyle.

“Sounds great… I might go hang out on the balcony for a minute, enjoy the view…”

“Okay my heart…” I agreed, sealing our plans with a last kiss.

**

It was nice to see Malania a little bit dressed up again. She wore a soft, flowing maroon dress that fell just below her knees. She had her hair slicked right back off of her face showing me her gorgeous face with her high cheekbones and the very light sprinkle of freckles that I could usually only notice when I stood close to her.

Often she tried hard to hide the scars on her arms with bracelets and bands, but she seemed to have become a little more comfortable with them. She wore nothing on her left wrist and a silver watch on her right; covering the suicide attempt.

Beneath her dress was the bikini that she planned to wear if we decided to swim after our dinner. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be confident enough to disrobe before me.

I took her hand feeling confident and happy for the first time in what had felt like months.

Carsen and another two security guards that he insisted we bring along with us, kept a fair distance behind and in front; just enough space to allow us to feel like we were on our own.

I realised I had been walking a little faster than her. It was just habit that I was always trying to get to from point A to point B as quickly as possibly in case I was recognised. Not this night though, I thought as I fell in to step with her. “Sorry, I’m speeding ahead.”

“No,” she smiled, “I’m just being a slow poke…”

“There’s no rush,” I insisted, “its just habit.” I didn’t need to explain further. She knew what I meant.

It was just on dusk which made it a little easier to not be recognised. We had a back up plan though—a decoy car and a look-a-like. Sounded ridiculous, but sometimes I had to work hard for a little bit of privacy.

Santa Barbara was full of billionaires; especially in this part of town. I hoped that the affluence and status of the general population would afford me a little more leverage in public than usual.

Though, people seemed to go bat shit crazy over me at times regardless of who they were. It was as though they lost their self-awareness. I didn’t mind because I was used to it; but I really wanted to have a nice night with my girl without any of the usual distractions.

“So if we get recognised,” I began, “and too much attention gets drawn to us, Brandon,” I pointed to the burley white giant a couple meters ahead of us, “he’s going to call for the car-“

“I know, Michael, we’ve been over it. Don’t stress; just relax. By the time we finish dinner it’ll be dark and we can go for our walk.”

That was the part I was looking forward to the most.

Eating dinner, I knew I would be recognised, but that was just part of the lifestyle. We had a small and private dining area that I felt like could allow us to enjoy the view, have a nice meal together and feel like a normal couple for a few hours.

I was feeling a little nervous for a few reasons.

I’d had it in my head that tonight was going to be the night. I didn’t want to get my hopes up because I was entirely running the risk of panicking her. But, there was a little pent up and well-hidden frustration on my behalf.

I understood her fears and her trauma. I was patient and I was kind and I knew I would never be anything but; however, sometimes my urge to make love to the person that I’d fallen in love with became a little all-consuming. It was hard to be able to lay next to her most nights and make out and cuddle and look in to those eyes and not be able express my feelings to her.

“Sorry,” I apologised.

We walked down toward the Harbor Restaurant which was situated right at the end of the pier.

“Have you ever eaten here?” Malania asked me.

I felt a knot in my stomach as a few men in suits passed us in the opposite direction. They were laughing heartily and thankfully not really taking too much notice of their surroundings. I realised I was holding my breath until I was confident they passed.

“Mike, are you alright?” I realised I was squeezing her hand a little too tight. Malania stopped me. I peeled my eyes away from the suits and looked at her. The security stopped walking too.

I took a deep breath and met her eyes with mine. I nodded, “Yeah…” I hesitated, “just… a little bit of anxiousness.”

“Michael…” she reached up and took my face in her hands, “it’s okay, if we get recognised we can just leave and it’ll be fine.”

I managed a smile and rested my hands upon her waist. “I’m sorry, I guess it’s just been awhile since I tried to go out—“

“Me too…” she agreed, “but we’re in this together—and even if we end up hanging out in the hotel suite all night, I won’t even care.”

I kissed her upon the lips and drew her toward me. I knew she found it a bit harder than I did to forget the security, but she was doing a good job of pretending they weren’t around.

“I love you…” I told her, “I really do… you’re amazing.”

She smiled at me. “I love you too…” She let her hand fall in to mine again and we continued past a few other people and straight in to the restaurant.

One of the new guards, Jim, held open the door for us. He spoke with the Maitre D for us and then we were shuffled straight to a private dining area. I heard people whisper and I heard someone call my name; but I pretended to be a little deaf—Malania did too, Carsen, standing behind me blocked anyone from seeing much of me which I was relieved about.

“Wasn’t so bad?” Malania smiled once we had been taken to our private dining.

“It was fine…” I agreed, hiding my anxiousness for public places. I didn’t remember ever feeling this way, but I knew I was worried for how people would perceive me since my hospital stay.

I pulled her seat out for her and joined her.

We were seated close to a wall-to-floor window that allowed us a beautiful view of the harbour; we were able to see the sunset and watch the yachts leaving and coming in to dock.

“Is this table okay?” I laid my arms across the table, leaning forward a bit. I picked up the silly vase out of the way so it didn’t obscure my view of her.

She folded her hands on the table top and smiled back at me. I quickly forgot about all of the anxieties I felt leaving the comfort of our secure car only a short while earlier. Instead, I was able to focus on my girl and spending some time on our own as though we were a normal couple.

“Yeah,” she replied with a nod, “its perfect…” she murmured, looking out at the view with a little bit of awe. I was able to watch her with adoration. I liked that she could appreciate the simple things like me.

“I hate being bothered when I want to do stuff like this…” I explained, “you know, trying to be normal…”

“You’re normal,” Malania told me, “you just have a unique situation…”

I loved her for her quickness to defend the unintentionally loathsome comments that I made about myself.

We were on our own for a few moments until a waiter came to present us our menus. I was happy that he was incredibly professional and if he was thrown by my stardom, he didn’t show it.

I gazed in to her eyes; she really knew how to make me feel calm. There was some silence between us and I couldn’t help but to hide a little smirk as her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

“I don’t have anything on my face, do I?” she asked, lifting her hand to touch her cheek a little self-consciously.

“No!” I interjected quickly, reaching to pull her hand away, “Sorry, I’m being all weird, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re fine… I’m sorry if I’m being a bit nervous—“

“Nervous?” I asked, “why?!”

She gave me a smile and I was certain her cheeks flushed again. I reached across and took her hands. “Why are you all nervous?”

She shrugged coyly.

I couldn’t help but to chuckle at her sudden bashfulness. I stroked her hands in mine, staring at them for a moment. “You know what?” I asked, drawing my eyes up slowly from her hands, up her arms, shoulders and finally back to her eyes, “I swear it, I’m going to marry you.”

Malania’s mouth dropped open. “Michael-“

“Not today, obviously, and don’t freak out, I’m not proposing—“ I knew from her tone I had scared her and quickly needed to clarify. “Have you ever met a person and knew immediately that you like them?”

She shook her head slowly, “well, you… but… I sort of knew you before I met you…” she answered seriously.

“I knew when I met you…” I told her honestly. “I mean; I didn’t know we were going to be together—I didn’t know that I wanted to marry you, but I knew you were special, even right back to the first time we met and I was dumb enough to gush about you to Diane.”

Malania started to laugh at the idea. “No shit, that was a bit dumb.”

I laughed too, realising in hindsight how insulting it was to her.

“No, but for real… I know, one day we are going to get married. I’m going to totally marry you up real nice-like,” I winked and gave her a little smug smile.

Her cheeks were bright read and she was beaming happily.

“Sorry,” I chuckled, “I’m being a giant weirdo…”

“Michael, you’re not a weirdo,” she smiled, “I like it when you’re being like this—intense and attentive, it’s … really nice.”

I watched her fingers stroke the arch of my thumb as though she was deep in thought. I picked up a menu with my free hand and swept my eyes over it, not wanting to disrupt her reverie.

“Michael?” she spoke up after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah?”

She gave me a sweet smile and took my hand in both of hers. I watched her cheeks get a little rosy, “what is it?” I pressed.

“Uhm… I’m ready…”

“To order?” I asked her, “you’ve barely looked at the menu.”

She laughed, “No I mean…” she cocked her head to the side and gazed at me, “I’m ready to… you know…”

I stared at her, confused for a moment until it finally dawned on me. “Ohhhh…oh, really?”

We both laughed. “Jeez, I thought I was going to have to spell it out to you.”

I was surprised by her admission. I certainly wasn’t expecting it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “I mean,” she paused, “I think that’s what I want... I love you. I want to be with you… I know that you love me too.”

“Okay,” I said simply.

“Okay?” she smiled.

“Absolutely its okay… but, same rule applies, if you change your mind, it’ll be okay,” I assured her.

There was an air of awkwardness between us, but the waiter returning seemed to break it. I had about a hundred things going through my mind—and all of them were sex related.

I welcomed the distraction.

“Mr Jackson and…?” he nodded to Malania and smiled at her kindly, waiting for one of us to speak.

“Malania,” she spoke up. “My name is Malania.”

“Miss Malania,” he nodded, “can I get you both something to drink?”

“Sure…” I spoke up, “what would you like to drink, my heart?” I asked, picking up the drinks menu.

She shrugged, “you’re the wine expert, why don’t you pick something good for me?” I knew she was teasing me.

“Really? You want a wine?” I was a bit surprised. In the whole time I had known Malania, she had never had a glass of wine or even a sip of alcohol.

“Sure, why not?”

“May I ask if you have chosen your meal?” the waiter asked, “if so, I could recommend a wine to complement your meal.”

“Okay, great… could we have a few moments to choose?” I asked, knowing both Malania and I hadn’t actually chosen our food.

We spent a few moment; she chose the chicken and I chose the salmon and waited with a strange, new electricity between us.

End Notes:

Please leave your reviews.... let me know what you all think should happen in the next chapter. Cos Im sitting here scratching my head lol

Chapter 63 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Here's the next chapter, folks! Hope you all managed to get over the fact that Malania ate chicken at the restaurant. Hahahahahaha. <3

Chapter 63

Well.

I had put it out there in the universe with certainty and confidence and I knew I couldn’t take my words back. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to.

Almost every night we shared together in his bed left me tempted to make a move on him, to let him know that I thought I was ready. I knew that if I could push myself through the initial panic of being in an intimate situation with him, then the circumstances and his presence would keep any fears or trauma’s that I had aside.

Raia had suggested I share with Michael that I was ready –  leave it up to him to decide when that moment should be. We both agreed that I shouldn’t give him a time or a place because I would build it up in my head and create anxiety.

There was an air of electricity between us throughout dinner. At first he was anxious as well – since his little stay in hospital, he struggled with leaving Neverland and was incredibly worried about what people were thinking or feeling about him.  He seemed to calm down once I stopped him on the pier to talk some logic in to his feelings.

Hopefully, if necessary, he would be able to do the same for my anxiousness if it arose later.

We left the restaurant and Michael relaxed; he was less recognisable to everyone else in the dark. Even though it wasn’t ideal, he had opted for us to slip out through the kitchen of the restaurant in order to avoid other diners.

Once we’d left the pier, Michael told Carsen that we wanted to take a walk along the shore. I was happy for that. One of my favourite places was the ocean. It was a warm night with a cool breeze and both of us were planning on swimming. Or so we had talked about it earlier.

That was if I ever had the guts to take off my dress and show him basically what I would look like in my underwear.

He held my hand as we made our way to the sand. We avoided any late strolling people just in case, but I think people paid more attention to Carsen and the other two guards who stood back—the three of them were dressed in black suits and looked conspicuous.

They were several yards away so as to give us space, all seated side-by-side on a bench where the grass met the sand. It looked a little comical from afar.

Sometimes being around guards made me feel like a child – like we needed chaperones; though as much as I hated it, I understood the necessity.

“Thank you for dinner,” I told him with a smile as we made our way close to the gentle waves lapping against the sand.

“You’re welcome…” he replied. There was a tiny air of awkwardness between us; I imagined he was obsessing about what I had blatantly shared back at the restaurant.

“Do you want to sit here for a bit?” he asked, gesturing for a spot in the sand for us to sit down on.

I didn’t answer, I just sat down; he did too. I scooped up a handful of sand and let it fall between my fingers, waiting for him to talk.

“I can’t remember a time where I was able to just sit like this and watch the ocean,” he spoke wistfully as he looked toward the surf. He brought his knees up beneath his chin and drew some lines in the sand. “It feels good…”

I smiled empathetically and rested my head against his arm.

“Can I ask something?” I began softly. “I mean, I don’t want to upset you or ruin the night… but—“

“Sure anything, you won’t upset me,” he answered, but I wasn’t so sure.

“Do you really think you’re going to jail?” I asked daringly, “I mean, is that why you were really keen to get out and do something like this?”

He hesitated for a moment before drawing in a deep breath. “No…” he said softly, “it is such a surreal thought, going to jail… but, while I don’t believe I’ll really go to jail, I also am aware that sometimes bad things happen to innocent people.”

I knew he was referring to me, “and sometimes the person that commits those atrocities manage to get away with it and someone else has to burden the pain,” he finished. He didn’t look at me when he spoke. He bowed his head, staring at the sand that he was playing with.

“I guess that’s true. But you didn’t touch that kid and as convincing as Diane might or could be, there’s no proof that you did,” I pointed out.

“There’s a lot of things at stake in a high-profile case like this,” he explained, probably repeating the exact wording as Greg, who had visited almost every day since he arrived home from the hospital a couple weeks earlier. “Like, the judicial system will want to make an example of me because I’m a celebrity- they don’t want it to seem like status will get you out of doing time—and as dumb as it sounds, there could be an element of racism to it all-“

“Racism?” I scoffed, “are you kidding?”

“No,” he shook his head, “Look at this place, how many black people do you see?” he asked me, “I think people are too busy staring at Carsen and Richard behind us because they have darker skin than I do… At least, paying them more attention than they’re paying me.”

I thought about it, and it was true – from the time we arrived I had not seen a single other black person save for the security and Michael himself. However, Michael’s skin tone was much lighter than the two guards.

“When I moved to Los Olivos, I heard there was a bit of irritation because of how white the Santa Ynez Valley is,” he chuckled, “but to be honest, that just made me more sold on the property.”

I laughed too.

“Seriously though, I hope that the answer to who hurt Casey is just staring us in the face—I mean, if it was someone who worked for me, I’d kill them myself,” he spoke the words bitterly.

“No you wouldn’t, you’d let the police deal with it, because I’m not going to see you exonerated for this and then jailed for murder…”

He laughed briefly and bitterly.

“Can I tell you something?” I asked him drawing in a breath as I did each time I wanted to share a bit of my heart that I knew was going to hurt.

“Sure…” he dusted the sand off of his hands and covered mine.

“I still don’t think I’ve processed the fact that Samuel is dead. I feel like I’ve totally blocked it out – that he’s still alive, but he’s just leaving me alone now like he did after the first time I spent in hospital…”

“I figured,” Michael nodded with understanding, “do you ever talk about it with Raia?”

“Yeah, we’re dealing with it at the moment. I feel a little short-changed that I never got to pursue it legally, but I don’t even know if I would have wanted to.”

“But the choice was taken from you and that’s the part that makes you feel short-changed,” he verbalised it for me. He had hit the mark.

I rested my head on his shoulder. “Anyway, in terms of Casey, I hope the real culprit is found, it would be awful to go through life knowing something has happened, but not knowing who the abuser was.”

I didn’t have sympathy for Diane, but it wasn’t her child’s fault her mother was a shameless, jealous liar.

“Let’s talk about something else… I don’t want us to get all morose again…” he managed a chuckle.

He was right.

“Well, whatever the reason, it does feel nice to just be hanging with you—on a beach, no concern about being spotted – that’s something I haven’t been accustomed to for awhile either.”

“Sorry about that,” he apologised almost wryly.

“No,” I shook my head, “that’s not what I was getting- nevermind, just… let’s enjoy this.”

He put his arm around me and drew me a little closer.

“How did you like your wine tonight?” he asked me, “it was your first alcoholic drink, right?”

I laughed, “Michael, Michael, Michael…” I sighed as if he were incredibly naïve. “Just because my parents seem like helicopter parents now, it hasn’t always been that way, I have had my time with alcohol.”

“Really?” his interest was immediately piqued, “tell me about it?”

I lifted my head, “well, I totally just built that up,” I laughed again, “remember my friend Peter? The guy I got you to pretend to be?”

He nodded, “Yeah, the guy you thought wasn’t interested in you.”

I rolled my eyes at his little, teasing smile. “Yeah, that’s the one… He convinced me to go to some awful frat party, this is how I deduced he was gay, by the way, why else would any non-frat student want to go to a frat party?”

Michael just laughed and shook his head at me and motioned for me to continue.

“Okay, okay… so it was every bit as awful as we both expected. We decided that we would both have two beers, or coolers or whatever, we were both uptight, uncool, friendless students so we wanted to relax. One turned in to another and another and before I knew it, Pete was on the carpet doing the worm in the middle of a circle of beefy frat guys cheering him on.”

Michael was genuinely laughing now, “Oh no… I almost want to cover my eyes cos I can see it…”

“Yeah, to paint you an even more descriptive picture, he was thin, tall and wiry, totally dorky—we ended up finding ourselves drinking out of a funnel – and then Peter decided we had to go, some guys kept trying to pull me away from him and he was incredibly drunk, but still worried about me…”

“Cos he liked you…” Michael interjected.

“Do you want to tell the story, Michael?” I asked with mock-seriousness before turning my glare in to a grin.

He grinned back at me, looking incredibly sexy. My heart skipped a beat and I spontaneously leaned in to kiss him.

He kissed me back for a brief few moments but pulled away, “don’t distract me, I want to hear the rest of this story—“

I giggled, “well, to cut a long story short—we decided we would go back to his apartment, in the cab on the way, I announced that we needed to stop at the supermarket to get some food and drinks. So we made the cabbie drop us off at a supermarket at around three in the morning, we bought a few things, I showed him how well I could moonwalk in the aisl-“

“You can moonwalk?!” Michael exclaimed incredulously as if I’d kept some huge secret from him.

“No,” I laughed, “but I thought I could… and drunk Peter thought I could, but you should have seen the night staff when each shook their heads at us—“ I paused, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, what an idiot, it’s so embarrassing!”

“Noooo,” he shook his head, “this is hilarious, girl, I almost want to get you drunk, you sound like a riot…”

I shook my head, “well… anyway, we got our munchies and as we got around the corner, we both spotted a lonely shopping cart…”

“Oh no… no you didn’t,” Michael covered his mouth knowing that the story wasn’t going to end well.

I burst out laughing, “you know in life… you have those moments…” I shook my head remembering the outcome, “where you almost foresee something before it actually happens?”

He nodded, “oh no, what happened?”

“Peter suggested that I get in the cart and he would push me through the parking lot which was close to his apartment. I want to say it was because I was such a woman of virtue and he wanted to make sure he got me home safely and in style…”

We shared more laughter. “And so I hopped in and you know, I think I was in the cart for about 6 seconds… he accidentally let go, it hit the curb and I went somersaulting out on to the road and bruised the crap out of my backside…we both laughed so hard that we almost peed ourselves…”

 “Oh shit… were you okay?” Michael was cracking up.

I was giggling, thinking of the whole ridiculous event. “Yes, fine… actually, apart from being really bruised the next day. Both of us ended up falling in to a heap laughing so hard and the next thing I remember actually is waking up in his living room with a blanket over me. And we both spent the rest of the day with our heads in buckets feeling quite ordinary.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh at Michael’s expression. I knew my story surprised him greatly.  His mouth was open but I could tell he wanted to laugh as well.

“You’re shocked, you thought I was an innocent little thing…”

“A delicate wallflower…” he added with that sexy grin still spread across his shocked expression.

“A graceful swan,” I continued.

“A real Princess of the people…”

We both cracked up. I embraced his arm close to me, feeling his hand resting upon my knee, enjoying our banter.

“Do you think less of me now?” I asked jokingly.

“No,” he chuckled, “but I obviously don’t know a lot about you and have assumed some things, done any crazy drugs? Jail time?” he jibed me.

“No, no, no… don’t be silly – that was probably the wildest thing I’ve ever done…well aside from jump on a plane at 17 or 18 and follow a popstar around.”

Michael laughed, “that is pretty wild and brave too… imagine if your first impression of me was on one of my bad days and I was rude or-“

“No, only one thing could have been worse than you being rude – if I met you and you were disinterested and too cool for it all; that would have broken my little heart because I built you up in my mind…”

“Whew…” he breathed, “lucky I wasn’t a total ass the first time we met…”

“No, you were like a prince charming…” I told him, “Honestly Michael, just who did you think you were being, being so nice that no man would ever match your kindness in a single meeting?”

He chuckled bashfully, “really, you got all that from one meeting?”

“A little bit… girls are incredibly intuitive – a lot of us are too dumb to ever trust that intuition when it’s bad, but yeah… we know when someone is good.”

“Well… thanks…”

“You know, I still have to pinch myself that you’re mine…” I murmured.

He gave me a little squeeze. He kissed my temple, allowing me to know he wanted to show me some affection. I turned to him, peeling my eyes away from the ocean.

He pressed his lips against mine. I felt his arms encircle around me. His body was always so warm. I reciprocated his embrace. He smelled so good, so clean and whatever cologne he was wearing really turned me on.

I loved being in close proximity to him. His kisses were slow and soft and sometimes it made my brain feel a little fuzzy. I opened my eyes as he broke away. He looked at me, sweeping his eyes over my face and smiled. “Gorgeous…” he murmured.

I could barely speak, when he got a little sentimental, he turned me to mush. “You are…” I murmured back.

He held me close to him, running his fingers through my hair. His touch brought goose bumps on the surface of my warm skin. His kissed me again, once, twice, three times until he made me giggle.

I was never really in to public displays—especially not with his security watching us like hawks, but I was able to finally forget about them, or at least not pay them any mind.

“I really love being with you…” he declared contentedly.

“Me too…” I drew him near me for a hug. “The best part of my day is waking up and remembering that I have you.”

“Mine too… as though finally through all this bullshit, it has some purpose- I have something driving me to fight hard to win this battle,” he admitted. I could sense his vulnerability in saying it.

“It’s nice to hear that…” I told him meaningfully.

I reached up, holding his cheeks in my hands and initiating another kiss. I let my tongue graze against his lower lip. I felt him chuckle. He opened his mouth and allowed me to kiss him properly. I could feel his eagerness and could still taste the remnants of wine upon his tongue from dinner.

“I love you…” he whispered to me, leaning his forehead against mine.

“I love you, too…” I replied.

I ran my fingers through his hair, resting my hand at the back of his neck. We stared googly-eyed at each other for a moment. “Do you want to swim?” he asked me.

“Can we swim back at the hotel?” I asked him. The room was pretty deluxe. We had a private pool. I wasn’t cool stripping down to my bathing suit in front of security guards.

He chuckled; I could tell he was a little disappointed. He wanted to swim in the beach. “Okay… wanna keep walking?”

I nodded. He got to his feet first and dusted himself off. He reached for my hand to help me up.

**

Michael motioned for me to enter our room first. I made my way inside, switching on some lights. I loved our villa-style room. I turned the lights on outside around the pool. I really wanted to go swimming.

“So… how are you going to do this?” Michael asked me, “you just gonna dive right in?”

“Yep…” I told him decisively. I had my green and black striped bikini beneath my dress. I knew he wasn’t expecting me to be so shameless, but I figured it was just another step closer to being intimate with him.

I took off my shoes and put them by the door before opening. I stepped outside and dipped my foot in to the small, kidney shaped pool. It was probably only about 4 meters long and about 2 and a half wide, but it was plenty big enough for us to relax in.

I turned to Michael, “are you going to join me, or?”

“Sure… I might go get some towels.”

“You do that…” I watched him turn and head off to grab some towels.

I lifted my dress over my head and folded it up neatly and placing it on a plastic deck chair by the pool. I sat on the edge and submerged my legs in the water and waited for Michael to return.

I stared in to the water for a moment and thought about where I wanted the night to head. Did I want to sleep with him on this very night? Did I want to just start getting a little more intimate?

I didn’t even notice him standing in the doorway watching me right away. He had a half smile on his face and was dressed down to a pair of shorts, holding two crisp, clean towels under his arm.

“Quit smiling like that, its creepy…” I told him bashfully.

“Well, no scales, no hairy chest…you were insecure? You’re nuts.” He took a step outside and placed the towels down beside my dress. I knew my face was burning red.

“Stop it…”

He chuckled and sat down next to me. He put his arms around me and kissed my neck softly. I started to snuggle in closer to him but he had other plans, with a single shove he pushed me in to the water causing me to squeal and grab him, trying to pull him in with me, but I lost.

I came to the surface, probably looking like a drowned rat. I glared at him as he threw his head back, laughing, thinking he was just so hilarious.

“You suck, you really, really suck...” I told him floating on my back and kicking water in to his face.

He just laughed more and slipped in to the water. It wasn’t too deep, the deep end was probably around five feet, he swam over to me with his big stupid grin on his face.

“You look gorgeous in your bikini…” he told me. I felt his hands upon my bare hips.

“Thank you…” I said slowly, watching his eyes fall to my chest that was half submerged in water.

He drew me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me. It was so good to be in water on a nice warm night, feeling our bare skin against one another without my panic ruining me.  

“I loved our date tonight…” he spoke slowly as his eyes reached mine. “It was nice to walk along the beach… and sit and hang out without worrying about being bothered.”

I smiled at him, “Yeah… that was really nice, thanks for a nice evening… and this, this hotel is beautiful… I love this pool, it’s so cute and romantic.” He leaned in and kissed me. I loved the way his lips felt against mine; soft and pillowy, he showed me constant affection in the most absent-minded ways…

“Well… this is nice…” I whispered, pulling away.

“It is…” his voice trailed off.

“I was so nervous—“ I blurted out as his hands smoothed over my wet hair.

“What about? Telling me what you did earlier?” he asked. I knew it had been on his mind.

“Well that… but also, just being this naked with you…” I laughed at my own stupidity. “I know it sounds stupid.”

He shook his head and smiled, looking in to my eyes. “What did you think I’d say? Did you think I’d really look you up and down and be all, ‘ugggghhhh you’re hideous! Put your dress back on!’”

I cracked up, feeling my cheeks flush. “No but… you know… this is just a process for me, you know that.”

He turned serious, “I know, I didn’t mean to make fun, I guess I just want you to know that I didn’t keep asking you to swim with me cos I wanted to get you naked, I actually just love swimming.”

I smiled at him, “and you wanted to make sure I didn’t truly have a hairy chest.”

He laughed but nodded jokingly, “A little from column A, a little from column B, I suppose.” He pressed his lips against mine, “but seriously, drop the insecurity, you have nothing to be anxious about.”

“I’m not even sure its insecurity, its one step closer to intimacy…” I admitted.

“Mal, what you told me tonight in the restaurant, about being ready—are you sure you really feel like that?”

“Yes…” I nodded, “I talked about it with Raia,” I added. It seemed like an odd place to have such a serious conversation but we had such a gorgeous atmosphere around us that made it feel right. “I started feeling this way just before you went to hospital, but I didn’t know if I trusted my own instincts. Raia suggested that I tell you when I was ready, but perhaps try not to turn it in to the kind of situation where we choose a time and a place because I’ll focus on it and it’ll create unwanted anxiety.”

“Okay, I just wanted to be sure, my heart…” he replied. “You just want to leave the planning and timing with me?”

I nodded. “And if it doesn’t feel right in the moment—“

“You’ll let me know,” he finished, “and that’ll be okay too.”

I hoped so. I knew the concern was still written all over my face, I couldn’t help it. A big part of me asked myself why I had even opened my mouth – I felt a little conflicted, but the other part of me loved him too much to listen to what my head tried to make me believe.

“Come here…” he drew me closer to him and slipped his arms around my shoulders, embracing me close to him. My breasts pushed in to his bare chest and I couldn’t help but smile to myself, proud that I was able to remain so close to him with very little article of fabric separating our bare bodies. “I don’t need you to stress—I want to be able to just hang out in the pool, admiring you both close and far in your teeny tiny bikini.”

 

I smacked him playfully, pushing him away, loving the sound of his cheeky laughter.

End Notes:

Please leave a review, tell me what you think. :) Am channelling all of my stress energy in to this story at the moment. 

Next chapter things will be a little uh... warm ;)

Chapter 64 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Theyre getting it onnnn! .... Or are they!? :D 

Chapter 64

I opted to get out of the pool; I could see Malania was getting cold. I jumped out first and patted myself down with a towel. I knew she had been nervous with me, afraid of the intimacy of being next to naked with me, but I suffered a little bit of nervousness myself that I hadn’t even bothered talking about. I didn’t want to try to overshadow her feelings.

“Here,” I held out the towel for her, watching her climb out of the water. Her body wasn’t anything she should have ever been ashamed of. I couldn’t help but to stare a little as her breasts almost spilled out of the cups of her plain black bikini.

She shivered a little, pulling the towel around her tightly, obscuring my view of her smooth, slim stomach. I tried to control my imagination, but I failed. It had been too long.

“Are you cold?” I asked her, “I’ll go get you a robe—“ I offered.

“It’s okay, I’ll come inside.”

I led the way in, holding the door for her, letting her step inside first. She looked cold; I could see her teeth chattering away. Maybe it hadn’t been warm enough for swimming after all. “Jeez, you are freezing…” I remarked.

“I’m okay, it’s just the breeze; I’ll warm up in a second,” she promised.

I ignored her and went to our room and grabbed the two robes that hung behind our door. When I returned, Malania was wringing her drenched hair out on to the towel, making sure she didn’t leave a trail of water behind her.

“Here…” I held out the robe. She regarded me with a warm smile. “Thanks,” she murmured. She pulled the towel from around her and let me help her in to the long, white, terry cloth robe.

“You’re welcome,” I returned the smile and watched her tie the sash at the front of it. I stepped back out, grabbing her towel and hanging it over a deck chair. I took off my swimming trunks and hung them beside it, ready for them to dry, standing a little awkwardly in my jocks, knowing that Malania was just inside watching me.

I came back in and pulled the second robe around me.

“Nice butt,” she teased me, realising that I was a little bashful about my own semi-nudity.

“Me?” I almost scoffed, “I barely have one.”

“Yes you do, you have a nice, cute little butt,” she grinned, not even giving me time to tie the sash at the front of my own robe. She stepped toward me and slipped her arms around me, “I didn’t tell you before, but I think you’ve got a nice body too.” I watched her face flush as the words left her mouth.

I smiled. “Thanks sweetheart,” I kissed her forehead. I tried to figure out what was on her mind. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to just hang out with me in front of the TV or if her mind was elsewhere.

It was almost 11. I knew that was around the time we usually went to bed to watch television for a few hours.

She was just enjoying the embrace. I was enjoying it too, but I could have been enjoying other things too, I thought as my mind wandered off.

“Do you want to go to bed…?” I asked her, “it’s kind of late.”

She smiled up at me, her dimple showing. “Okay.”

I took her hand and guided her upstairs to our loft bedroom. I figured even if we didn’t sleep right away, we could sit on the balcony and watch the stars in the dark. There were a couple of deck chairs up there.

“We could rent another movie…” I suggested.

“Sure,” she agreed.  Maybe I was wrong, but I felt as though there was an element of disappointment in her voice.

When we reached the landing of the stairs she let go of my hand and headed to her suitcase, which laid open on the suitcase stand. “What are you doing?” I asked her.

“Getting ready for a shower?” she threw me a questionable look.

“Oh…”

“Well, you wanted to go to bed,” she raised an eyebrow.

I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t about to say that coming to bed with me didn’t necessarily require clothes. I didn’t want to put any pressure on her. She seemed a little put out.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Come over here…” I sat on the end of the bed and waited for her to make her way to me. She dropped her things with a little sigh. I held my hands out, waiting for her to come and take them.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again, “your mood totally changed.”

She shook her head, “nothing,” she replied, “I’m fine,” she tried to give me a smile, but we knew each other well enough to understand when we were just placating one another.

“C’mon… we can go and do something else if you’re not ready to go to bed.”

She looked at her hands for a moment. “Michael, I told you this thing tonight…”

I knew immediately what she was talking about. My heart skipped, thinking she was going to take the words back, that she spoke them prematurely. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed too.

“And it was so hard to have the guts to be honest like that with you—it made me feel so vulnerable and unsure about whether or not I even meant it.”

“Did you mean it? I don’t want you to say things just to appease me, Mal,” I replied, trying to force myself not to show any irritation with her. It isn’t her fault, it isn’t her fault, it isn’t her fault. I had to repeat it a few times to myself.

“Yes,” she looked away from me again and nodded. “And we’ve had this wonderful, warm, romantic evening and we’re both feeling a bit normal and you’re talking about wanting to go to sleep like an old married couple.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh and grin stupidly. She seemed irritated for a moment but she couldn’t help but to smile at my reaction. She shoved me, “don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not laughing at you, sweetheart, I’m just laughing at you thinking that I would take something that you’ve told me with such a grain of salt, that I’ve brought you back here just to go to bed and sleep. Do you think I was gonna be all, ‘hey come upstairs so I can do sex to you!’”

She cracked up. “If you ever say you are going to ‘do sex’ on me, I will kill you, just for your information.”

We both began to laugh and I was glad for the tension leaving the conversation. “No, but for real,” I began when we both calmed down a little bit, “I didn’t want to assume anything, Mal, we don’t have to sleep together the very night you’ve told me you think you’re ready, I didn’t want to do that to you—“

“But…” she murmured quietly, “I…” she drew in a breath as if she was going to protest.

I stopped her from continuing, “I don’t like making you feel nervous…”

“And here we are still talking about it…” Malania interrupted, “and it’s frustrating, Michael because I just want to get over with-“

Her words hurt me just a little. I cocked my head, giving her a reproachful look. “C’mon, is that really the way you’re really looking at it? As if it’s something you’re doing just for me?”

She breathed in and I could tell immediately that she was beginning to feel the stress.

“No,” she murmured, “no, Michael, it’s not how I really feel… I just want to be able to not feel all this shame for something that has nothing to do with you or our situation.”

I winced. I hated that she still felt shame over another person’s actions. It wasn’t fair to her and it certainly wasn’t fair to me.

I loved her so much but it was sometimes hard for me too. I tried so hard not to make it about myself.

“I just want you to…” she started but then stopped. She took my hands and avoided looking in to my eyes. She seemed frustrated by her own lack of ability to pinpoint what she really wanted to say. “I just want you.”

I tried to discern whether or not her words were a green light for me to kiss her. I felt awful for her.

I decided not to say anything cheesy. I decided to just kiss her and if that wasn’t what she wanted, she would stop us.

I leaned in to kiss her lips, expecting that she would pull away. She didn’t though. She let go of my hands and rested her hands upon my shoulders. I took her face in my palms and just went with it.

She didn’t protest, she didn’t stop me, she just kissed me back eagerly—I figured that she had probably just wanted me to shut up. It probably took a lot of energy to continue talking in circles about everything.

I felt her hands holding the hem of my robe, letting them clutch on to the material.

I opened my mouth slightly, allowing her tongue to enter my mouth. Given how long I’d been holding out, I became aroused at the drop of a hat. Her tongue against mine caused an ache down below. I clenched my eyes shut tightly and told myself to just calm down.

I grazed my tongue against hers before closing my mouth, pressing my lips against hers and relishing the taste of her for a few short moments, before repeating my actions. Each time, I slowed my pace a little more. It seemed to make her feel eager. I buried one of my hands beneath the damp hair at her neck and my other hand found its way down to the small of her back.  

I kissed her with passion and urgency again. I knew she welcomed the change of pace and so far so good – she enjoyed my fingers running through her hair, she let out a soft and almost inaudible whimper each time my fingers grazed against her scalp.

I drew a line with my tongue against hers and closed my mouth one last time. I broke it off and planted some soft ones along her cheeks and down to her earlobes as she caught her breath.

She tipped her head to allow me more room to brush my lips down her neck. I knew she was enjoying it by the way her body responded. Her back arched a little and she tried to move closer to me, which wasn’t really all that possible.

Her stationary hands let go of my robe and began to search for a way beneath it. I was surprised by her initiative, but not really all that shocked. I grabbed her hands, stopping her. I knew if she touched me too intimately too quickly, it would have been all over. I had been waiting a long time.  I continued to kiss down to her collarbones.

I could see the goose bumps rising all over her skin as I left a wet trail from where my mouth had been.

I was quickly becoming aroused and I accepted that it just couldn’t be helped. I’d have to deal with it if she shut things down at any point.

She shivered, making me smile. I knew she was enjoying herself despite the fact that she was trembling slightly; a mixture of nerves and pleasure, I was certain.

I broke off my kisses and looked at her. She gazed back, looking a little starry-eyed.

“Did you want to…would it be okay to –“ being forward wasn’t ever really my forte. I was shy, too; I really had trouble trying to say exactly what I wanted. I didn’t have a great deal more confidence than she did, but I knew I had to just man-up. “Do you wanna get more comfortable?”

She nodded. Her eyes were full of nervousness and uncertainty, but I think she wanted to be with me just as much as I wanted her. I knew that she did trust me despite any fears that she may have had. I slid up toward our pillows; she did too.

I undid the sash of my robe and discarded it. She surprised me and did the same. I smiled at her, trying not to stare at her laying almost naked beside me save for her bikini.

“There are too many decorative pillows…” I remarked with frustration at the bunch of irregular shaped cushions that seemed to overcrowd the bed. I pushed them all off and pulled back the comforter, wrestling with it all for a few moments a little comically as Malania watched with amusement.

I watched her eyes linger over me, as I lay next to her in my black jocks.

“You look good,” she smiled. I almost flinched, feeling her hand running down the side of my chest. Her touch was warm and sensual and aroused me like crazy. I hoped she didn’t notice.

I leaned over her, kissing her on the lips, enjoying the feeling of her hands searching my pecs, her palms grazing my nipples. I moaned in to her mouth and I kissed her just that little bit more passionately.

I tried to pull away, inducing a series of short lingering kisses.

“Do you want me to cut out the lights?” I asked in a whisper, thinking that she would have less to be alarmed about if I turned them off.  

She shook her head, “no, leave them on,” she answered quickly.

I remembered about her night terrors and felt a bit silly for the suggestion. “Well, that’s fine with me…” I smiled cheekily, “cos you look really beautiful in your bikini, I know I said that already but…”

She just chuckled. I could tell that she was suddenly consumed with nerves. “Don’t be nervous…” I murmured, deciding to just be blunt with her. “It’s me. You know me, you love me… I’m yours.”

“I know,” she said with a little smile. “I do love you, I trust you. I want to be with you.”

What I really wanted was to get her out of her clothes. My erection must have given me just that little bit of sexual confidence. All I needed was for her to tell me if I had to stop.

“You can… undress me…. if you like,” her voice was low and quiet as if she feared that that wasn’t what I wanted to do. I knew she was nervous, I could hear it as her voice trembled a little; but I think we both felt like if we pushed past it, we might be able to get to a place where she felt safe in this situation.

I planted another kiss on her lips. I kneeled over her, getting as close as I could without pressing any of my weight on her. I slowly ran my fingertips up her arms to her shoulders, slipping beneath her so I could get to the clip of her bikini.

She rose her back slightly, helping me. I tried not to break our kiss as I fumbled around like an idiot, trying to figure out the clasp. Eventually I pulled away and cursed with a laugh.

Malania laughed too, it was a nice tension relieving moment. “You don’t do this often, do you?” she joked.

“Are you kidding right now?” I chuckled, “what the hell, does this Bikini come with some kind of special man-proof clip?”

“Obviously,” she remarked. I eased up off of her, resting back on my knees. She half-sat up and helped me out. I heard the snap of it opening and she rested back down again, leaving her loose bikini covering her. “There you go…”

I reached for the straps of her swimwear and removed the article from her body, uncovering each mound of perfect flesh.

I knew my erection was probably pretty obvious to Malania. I tossed it to the side of the bed; it was just getting in the way. I barely got the chance to admire her; her arms instinctively reached up and covered her breasts. I knew she felt vulnerable in bright light of the bedroom with me, straddling her in such a situation.

“Do you want me to put the lamp on?” I asked gently.

She nodded, “Y-yes…”

I got up off of her and turned the lamp on my side on and went to turn the actual room light off. When I turned back around, she had pulled the covers up over herself.

“Is this too much?” I asked, crawling under the sheet beside her.

“No…” she shook her head but her eyes seemed unsure. “I don’t want you to stop,” she told me bravely.

It was all I needed to hear. I resumed my position; straddled over her thighs. She still protectively covered herself. I let my hands wander over her stomach, enjoying the softness of her skin, inching up to her arms. I gently pulled them away from her chest and guided them around me.

I grazed my fingertips further up until they reached her breasts. They were silk against my hands. I stole a glance of her as I flattened my hand, grazing both palms along the hardness of her nipples.

She trembled a little beneath me. I looked to her face in the dimmer light and saw that her eyes were clamped shut.

I moved my hands away and knew I needed to be incredibly patient with her. I kissed her briefly on the mouth. “We don’t have to…” I had to squeeze the words from my mouth because my dick said otherwise. “We can just lay together…”

She shook her head. “I’m not scared,” she murmured.

“You’ll tell me, right? If you want me to stop, you’ll tell me, no matter how far things have gone?”

I wanted to make her feel better because I could see her eyes growing watery in frustration with her self and probably the situation. She nodded. “I’m sorry…”

I shook my head. I didn’t want her to apologise. I thought maybe me being on top of her may have intimidated her a little for the moment so I flopped down on to my side beside her.

She thought I’d given up. Still on her back, she turned her head to me, trying to determine what I was thinking. I gave her an encouraging smile. I showed her I meant what I said, by closing my eyes and kissing her.

I rested a hand on her tummy. I felt her suck it in nervously. I didn’t move it though, I just rested it there until she relaxed. Once she stopped freaking out, I began to caress her belly, taking time to explore her flesh that I’d never really seen uncovered before.

I settled a hand at the waistband of her bikini bottoms. I slowly inched my hand over her backside, cupping it in my hand, squeezing gently as I kissed her.

I felt her tense up, so again I waited, giving her time to relax, though once she did, I could feel her trembling beside me. None of it felt right; it was all wrong. Even though she tried to convince me otherwise, I felt as though I was taking advantage of her.

She was too nervous and too frightened and I felt terrible. It wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I just removed my hands and continued to kiss her. I just draped my arm over her, guiding us closer together, enjoying the feel of skin-on-skin and decided that I needed to let that be enough.

“I love you…”

“I love you,” she repeated.

I smoothed my hand over her back. I wanted her so much but I wasn’t about to compromise her feelings. I knew she was struggling and probably more with the expectation that I wanted to have sex, but I really only wanted it if she was in to it as well.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised again when she realised I’d given up. “I feel awful, like… I’ve ruined our night.”

“The night is not ruined,” I replied. I smiled at her, noticing that she was just a few words away from tears. “Don’t be upset, it’s all good. If nothing else, we’re closer right now than we’ve ever been.” I kissed her forehead. “But, you’ve just put way too much pressure on yourself.”

“I wanted it to be perfect,” she murmured.

I thumbed away a tear that escaped the corner of her eye. I kissed her again.

“Just relax, you’re worked up. I don’t want you to feel like that. We’ll just hang out in bed like this, okay? Whatever happens, happens…” I replied, “I’ve had the most wonderful night with you, it won’t suck any less if we just chill out.”

“Are you disappointed?” she asked my point blank.

The truth was, I did feel disappointed, but I wasn’t going to tell her that and make her feel worse. “No,” I said shaking my head, “I know it will happen when it’s supposed to happen. Right now, I am enjoying your awesome boobs against my chest.”

She managed a laugh. There was no one that I would have ever spoken like that with anyone else. “I think this is like the second time I’ve seen you without a shirt…” her voice trailed off, “but the first time you were at your Hidden Hills place and I was only really concerned with getting you under the shower.”

Oh yeah, I thought, the almost incident that I disliked anyone even bringing up.

“First time for me too,” I stated the obvious, “I certainly don’t have any complaints.” I drew away slightly and looked down between us.

She slapped me playfully. I knew it was a little confronting for her to see me staring at her body. She kept me close, trying to keep herself out of view. “Stop teasing…” she replied.

“What about me, am I all you ever dreamed of and more?” I joked.

She raised her eyebrow and smiled at me. “Obviously you are. I don’t need to even look…”

“So, if you never saw my naked body, you’d be fine?” I asked, “You’re not interested?”

“No…” she flushed, “I’m saying that I love you and I know that if you had any scars or anything you felt funny about, it wouldn’t matter to me.”

“Right…” I smiled, finding irony in what she was saying. “Now, put yourself in my situation… that’s exactly how I feel about you.”

“I know…” she averted her eyes away from me briefly. “It’s not so much that I’m concerned about my body, I’m just scared of intimacy; of what all of that means, of what being naked leads to, you know?”

I nodded. “I know, my heart…”

“And it’s not about trust, because I do trust you, I just can’t help the way my body reacts.”

“I’m glad you’re not insecure about your body, because I’m pretty impressed by yours, you are so beautiful… I think you’re perfect.” I told her, wanting her to feel like a million dollars with me.

She kissed me, “thank you for saying that.”

Surprising me, she raised herself up, pulling the sheets around her, securing herself.

“Whatcha doing?” I asked her.

“Sitting up,” she replied, “I don’t want to lay down anymore, I don’t want to go to sleep just yet.”

I sat up too, easing myself back against the bed head. “Come here…” I suggested, wanting to be close to her, I patted the space on my lap. I could see her weighing up a decision in her mind.

She grabbed my hand and let me guide her to my thighs, trying to keep herself strategically covered. She seemed to almost entirely give up as she drew near to me. I caught a glimpse of her pert breasts as she got comfortable. She stared at me for a moment, smiling. She took my face in her hands and kissed me again.

She seemed to be a little more comfortable. She encircled her arms around me and I slowly dared my hands to slide from her waist up her side, letting myself cup the contours of her soft flesh.

She didn’t seem to mind. As she pressed her lips against me again, I felt the tip of her tongue against mine. I kissed her back with a little bit of urgency, but I interrupted it in surprise as she grabbed my hand from the side of breast and guided me over it entirely.

I eyed her sensing her nervousness, though her body didn’t seem to tremble the way it had earlier, but still, it was kind of hard to ignore. She flinched often to my touch until I could see her talking herself in to relaxing. It was a little off putting.

She let her eyes fall shut for a moment, probably collecting her thoughts and fears and trying to do away with them. I ran my free hand over her dark hair that was slowly drying.

The curve of her breast was smooth and soft and I tried not to let myself become too hard but it was difficult considering how much I wanted her.

“I want you…” she said softly, “I can’t even tell you how much I want this to happen…”

I knew she meant it and I knew it was frustrating for her. I closed my eyes tightly and took a deep breath, trying to get the self-control to put everything on pause.

I let my hand fall from her hair, down her shoulders to her back. I began to draw patterns on her skin with my fingertips. “I don’t want to do this while you’re scared of me….” I told her honestly.

“Michael, I’m not scared of you, you’re perfect.”

Instantly our moment was lost. She seemed upset by my response.

“So if you’re not scared of me and if it’s not a trust reason, but you are scared? I’m just wondering what it is exactly that you are scared of?” I tried to be delicate, but I figured maybe if we talked about it, maybe we could get past it. I was sure it was only something she would have been comfortable discussing with Raia, but I decided to try anyway.

“I’m scared of him, Michael, but I know you’re not him, but I have no control over my body’s condition. I don’t have the control to stop myself shaking. And it’s embarrassing and my mood gets killed and then I’m sitting here upset because I know I’ve killed the mood for you as well.” Her eyes filled with tears and I felt bad.

She reached up and wiped her eyes before they spilled over. I didn’t try to console her because her feelings were completely valid. “A couple of times we’ve made out and we’ve gotten close to doing other stuff and you’ve been okay, I’ve stopped things because I was afraid you weren’t ready – but maybe because those moments were unplanned you were okay. Maybe this whole situation is freaking you out because you’ve planned it in your head and you think it’s expected.”  

 “Maybe…” she murmured.

“Don’t stress, Malania, I only want to make love to you when you’re ready.” I wanted to make love to her then and there, obviously, but not if she wasn’t whole-heartedly in to it. I didn’t want her to ever regret her first time with me.

“So you’re telling me you weren’t coming in here tonight with a sense of intent or desire or even – a sense of relief that the wait was over?” she asked me. Her glassy eyes had mostly dissipated.

I considered her question and tried to answer to be straight with her. “Well, honestly, sweetheart, maybe a little. But we’ve talked about your fears and everything in the past and I knew that there’d be a chance that you might not want that, we might have had such a big, drunken night back there that we would have come back here and zonked out.”

She managed a laugh. “There’s no way I could sleep,” she admitted. “This is probably going to keep me up all night. It’s so bizarre, I’m sitting here shirtless in front of my boyfriend, Michael Jackson… who for some crazy reason, I haven’t let bang me yet.”

I cracked up, “Mal! That’s dirty!” I loved it when she surprised me with a bit of crassness. I knew it was always just for shock value.

“You know what, maybe alcohol isn’t a bad thing. Maybe we should have a glass, if for no other reason but to celebrate the fact that the trial is going to start, Michael, and the sooner it begins the sooner it can be behind us.”

My breath caught, thinking about the trial, but I didn’t let it throw me off. I was glad she was so positive about it. I needed one of us to be.

I smiled. “Really? You’d like a glass of wine?”

“Sure, do you feel like it?”

“I could have a glass of wine,” I nodded. “In fact, why don’t we go sit on the balcony with a bottle of wine. It’s a nice night, it might be a bit romantic.”

“Okay,” she agreed, “Obviously I’ll need some clothes,” she remarked. She moved off of me, allowing me to get up first. I still had my jocks on, but I could feel her eyes lingering over me as I picked up a robe that was lying on the floor and I handed it to her.

She swung her legs over the opposite side of the bed and with her back to me, she pulled the robe around her bare save for the bikini bottoms, which by the way, made her ass look grand.

She turned around, tying the sash, still looking so beautiful. She had little traces of eyeline slightly smudged under her eyes from the pool. “Why don’t you go wait out on the balcony?” I suggested, “I’ll go downstairs and get the wine and bring it up.”

End Notes:

You know the drill, compadres, lemme know what you think! :) 

Chapter 65 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Its finally happening folks. This is one long-ass chapter. So get strapped in (hehe) and this is where Michael gets to pull all the cobwebs off of his penis uses it. I apologise if its cheesy.... sort of haha. Ok leave reviews pls.

 

 

Chapter 65

I felt a little vulnerable knowing that I was all but naked beneath the robe. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever been with Michael before. My heart was in my throat despite that he’d clearly pulled the plug on my own intentions to have sex with him that night.

Quite honestly, I was glad and relieved that he’d removed the pressure of the evening without me having a giant freak out and having to do it myself.

I sat on the edge of a comfortable wicker deck chair. The soft, white upholstery made me want to lay down on it.

Michael came out with two glasses of wine. He smiled at me and I wondered if beneath it all, he was upset that he was still waiting.

“Thanks baby…”

He sat down beside me and kissed my cheek. “You look so gorgeous tonight, I know I must have told you a million times, but I feel like I need to keep reminding you.” He reached over and touched my cheek, “This dimple…” he stroked it with his thumb as I grinned at him, “it drives me nuts.”

“Its all smoke and mirrors…” I winked.

He cocked his head as if he were reproaching me. “Sorry,” I quickly apologised, not trying to take away his compliment, I just still felt a bit confronted by them. “Thanks, I mean.”

He winked this time, “You’re welcome.”

“Actually, looking at you, your body is impressive,” I told him hoping not to offend him, “I dunno why, but I didn’t think you’d be as cut as you are.”

He was very muscular. I didn’t expect him to have a six pack or muscular arms, but it made sense since he probably spent many long hours dancing and exercising for tours.

He laughed, “is that cos I bum around with you and never work out or anything?”

I giggled, that was probably exactly why I thought as much.

“You expected me to have flabs for abs, didn’t you?”

My face reddened as he continued to tease me. I placed my hand on his abs, pressing against their hardness. He was obviously flexing them. “You right there?” he asked pointedly, looking down at my hand resting just above the waistband of his underwear beneath his loosely tied robe.

I laughed, “Yes I am, and no, I didn’t expect you to be flabby, I don’t know what I expected, probably just not this, but your body is a-okay with me, babe.” I winked.

He smirked at me and turned his head to kiss me in gratitude. “I love this smokey-eyed look you have going on…” he reached to a smudge of make up beneath my eye.

“Oh shit, do I look like a panda?”

“A bit…” when he saw my instant embarrassment he was quick to assure me he was teasing.

We both sat almost awkwardly on the edge of the deck chair. I looked down below at the balcony and rested my hand on the inside of his thigh. I was content. Maybe I felt bad earlier about what had happened, but it didn’t take away the feeling of contentedness with him.

I sometimes felt like it was meant to be this easy. That I should have always felt this relaxed with him, not frightened or feeling a sense of impending doom.

“Anyway,” he cut through my silence, “to us…” he gestured his glass to mine to make a little toast.

“To us…” I replied, “to having a happy, normal relationship – always.”

“Amen…” he added with a sigh as if he didn’t believe that would ever be the case. He clinked his glass with mine and leaned in to kiss my lips lingeringly.

We both sipped our wine. It was sweet with a dry after-taste that warmed my throat instantly. I took another mouthful and set it down on the small table that sat between the deck chairs. I knew it didn’t take wine very long to get to my head.

He took a few sips of his own and set it down. He adjusted himself, moving from next to me, laying back on the deck chair, one leg hanging over the edge to make room for me. I looked him over as I sat at the foot of him. He was a sight for sore eyes.

I had always thought he was beautiful to look at, but age was certainly good to him. Ten years earlier I was giggling breathlessly over him with a schoolmate. It was hard to believe that he was laying before me, almost naked save for some underwear.

He was mine.

I loved to look at Michael’s face. He had the most gorgeous smile; it was cheeky and infectious just as his laughter was. I loved to make him laugh so hard that he would start to sound maniacal. In those instances, his laughter became so contagious that we spent moments laughing so hard that neither of us could breathe.

I loved him so much and it was torturous to not be able to show him.

He lifted his arm over his head looking like a man of leisure as he stared at me with a slight smile. His robe had come loose somewhere along the way and I could see his smooth chest peeking out from beneath the white material. The split of his robe bared his legs right up to his muscular thighs.

I had to take a breath. “You are so…. friggin hot, you know that?” I knew I sounded like a giddy teenager with all of my continual compliments, but he needed to know. I knew that he went through periods of self-loathe just as I did. He needed someone to remind him sometimes too.

He smiled bashfully and chuckled at me. “Come here, come lay in my arms…”

I picked up my wine glass and took another mouthful or two.

Michael laughed, “Baby, you trying to get drunk?”

“No,” I laughed, setting it down beside his and crawling up the deck chair. He moved his legs and shifted to make room for me. He put an arm around me and kissed my forehead, running his fingers through my hair as I rested my head upon his chest. “I was just having a drink.”

I glanced up at him and gave him my adoring smile. I wasn’t stupid, I knew how hard he was trying to be so good and patient but it was killing him. I could look at him and give him an erection. Even when we kissed in the pool he had been encumbered by his own hardness. Its not that I didn’t notice, nor that I didn’t care; because I did. I wanted to reward his patience and kindness to me, if only I could get past my own stupid brain.

He leaned forward and kissed my lips in a few short pecks. I could see the desire in his eyes but he was always the perfect gentleman. I knew he didn’t have any expectations, but it was frustrating because I genuinely wanted to have sex. I got turned on too; I was impatient too, but I just couldn’t get past my own fears.

I felt his thumb caressing my jawline. His touch was so thrilling and I knew it could be boundless if I let it. Every other time things got excited, I willed him to touch me or make me feel good, but he exercised every bit of self-control and cooled himself off, fearing that he would spark my trauma and usually it came to a point where it did.

“What are you thinking?” he wondered, “your face is so serious…”

I peeled my eyes away from the cushion where I’d spaced out for a moment. I met his eyes again. “Nothing important,” I smiled.

“Are you sure?”

I reached up and covered his hand at my jaw and curled my fingers around his.

“Promise,” I replied. As if to prove it, I kissed him. I pressed my lips against his and allowed him to fill my mouth with his tongue. I gently sank my teeth in to his lower lip and then kissed it better.

He dragged his fingers through my hair, scratching softly at my scalp like he had done earlier. It made the light hair on my arms stand on end. He kissed me a little harder and I felt his arousal against me.

I closed my eyes tightly and concentrated on nothing but him. I tried bravely to block out all of the other thoughts. Michael loved me, I told myself over and over. He was going to just show me that he loved me. He would be gentle. He wouldn’t hurt me. He loved me.

I was engulfed by the warmth that he filled me with as he kissed me; his fingertips finding their way to discreet areas of my body that seemed to make me feel a little bit crazy for him.

I reached for the sash of his robe and undone it, smoothing my hands over his rock-hard pecs. I felt him suck in his stomach as my hands made their way around, exploring his body, enjoying the feel of his bare skin.

I dared to give myself this little indulgence of his body.

I didn’t move too far down south, I didn’t want to be unfair. My hands found his shoulders and I broke off the kiss. It turned in to a long series of short lingering ones. He sank his teeth softly in to my lip as I had done, pulling away from me.

He grinned at me, biting me again playfully, tugging my lower lip. We both chuckled as he released it.

“You’re crazy…” I told him.

“You are…” he jibed me.

“Do you love me?” I asked with a little smile, resting my hand on his warm chest. I knew the answer already.

“Yes,” he said with certainty, “I love you so much. You are my heart.”

I loved hearing him call me his heart. I knew it was corny, I knew it would have sounded trite to anyone else, but I knew his intentions were genuine.

“How much do you love me?” I asked him. I was aware I was being silly and he wasn’t taking me too seriously. “And provide proof.”

He smirked at me, “I love you so much that I would sit through two Prince concerts and would buy a Madonna tape to prove it.”

I began to laugh. “Wow, that’s obviously a lot.”

“No,” he corrected himself with a lighthearted chuckle, “Seriously, I love you to the moon. I love you to the moon a thousand times over and providing the proof will be pretty easy in due time.”

I kissed him again. “Do you love me?” he asked, letting his words vibrate against my mouth.

“Yes…” I replied, drawing away just enough for me to be able to look in to his eyes. “I love you like crazy.”

With one hand behind me, he eased us both up so he could grab his wine. He passed me mine first. I drank another few mouthfuls. Wine had always gone to my head pretty fast. I was glad about that, it was taking away my inhibitions slowly but surely.

I lay back down with my head on his chest, drawing patterns on his shoulder.

Despite the breeze, it was still fairly warm. The sea breeze was cooler when it blew, but it had calmed somewhat. I liked being outside with him, listening to the waves crash against the shore, sipping wine and chilling out.

It was perfect.

“You have a nice chest…” I murmured.

“So do you…”

I laughed. “Well, you barely got to see so… you’re not totally qualified to make that judgment yet.”

“Of course I could see…” he scoffed. “I could see and you let me feel. You have a great chest actually… perfect.”

I knew I was turning red, but I didn’t say anything to deflect his compliment. I just took it. My cheeks were warm, but then my entire body was warming up from the wine.

I kissed him if for no other reason but to take away my momentary embarrassment. I decided as he kissed me back and began to rake his fingers along my scalp that I should try to relax and get in the mood. Even if e didn’t go the whole way, I realised my body did in fact desire him despite my mind winning.

Even him talking about my breasts made me feel a tingle below.

I got a little bold and straddled one of my legs over his. His large hand rested upon my thigh where the material of my robe had parted. It rested stationary save for his thumb that caressed my skin just above my knee.

It felt good and I felt okay for the moment. I tried to just keep calm within my brain and confident within myself. I assured myself that I could ask him to stop at any time and he would respect me.

I broke the kiss off and let my lips linger along his jawline to his earlobe. I heard him make a soft hissing sound as he squeezed my thigh. I nested my cheek in to the palm of his hand, getting goose bumps from his fingertips brushing along the shell of my ear.

I felt him pulling my leg over him, helping me to reposition myself closer to his body. His hand travelled along the back of my thigh up to my backside. I flinched slightly as he grabbed my flesh.

My mind felt conflicted and I almost yelped at him to stop. I took a deep breath and collected myself and reminded myself that his touch made me feel good. It felt right. He kept allowing me time to relax within his touch before he moved any further. I appreciated that. It took time to get used to his hands on those places.

I could feel his hand cupping my ass. Eventually he dared to give my flesh a squeeze as I continued to plant kisses all over his face. His touch travelled up my backside to the middle of my back, stroking my bare skin.

I pulled away for a moment. I wasn’t one hundred percent; but I thought I would be okay to carry things a little farther.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, “are you comfortable?” he wondered.

I nodded even if I wasn’t entirely sure.

We recaptured our kiss. His hand slid out from under my robe. I broke the kiss again, rising my body up a little so that I could create a little bit of distance between us. I felt his hand between us, reaching for the sash of my robe. My instinct kicked in and without thinking, I grabbed for his hand to stop him.

“I’m sorr-“ he began.

I moved my hand away. I wanted him. I wanted him to make me feel good.

“No,” I shook my head, kissing his lips, “Go ahead, its okay.”

I was being brave. I knew inevitably we were going to see each other naked. We were going to have sex. We were going to be getting used to one another.

He seemed hesitant. “Please…” I said softly, not wanting to beg him, but I wanted him to know that I was sure.

As if to encourage him, I took his cheeks in my hands and kissed him more eagerly. I tasted his tongue and swirled mine against his. I felt his hands untying the robe. A warm draught of air hit my skin as it fell open around his chest.

I was glad that I was laying over him even though I was almost certain no one else from any other room could see us. His hand rested on my bare waist, every now and then he grabbed at my flesh.

Surprising me, he broke off the kiss.

“Sweetie…” he began. I looked to him, wondering why he had stopped when I really was relaxing with him.

“I’m not comfortable being out here with you like this…” he spoke frankly.

“What?” I raised an eyebrow, “what do you mean?” I felt a little embarrassed, as if he suddenly doubted his desire to sleep with me.

He nodded toward a high rise that was a little while away. He was a bit breathless. “Maybe I’m paranoid, but I know what those paparazzi cameras are like… and this is my first time with my girlfriend…” I loved how he put it. I knew he’d had sex before, but having sex with me for the first time was obviously going to be special for him too.

If not also a little frustrating.

It was obviously a big deal to him. I felt a smile come to my lips. I pulled my robe around me.

“You’re right, I’m sorry…” I apologised.

“No Mal, don’t apologise. You all secure? Nothing gonna fall open out here in front of anyone?” he joked.

I shook my head and smiled. He grabbed our glasses and we headed in to our amazing loft.

I felt better already, even letting him motion to undress me without trembling was a good sign.

I noticed the bottle of wine sitting on the night stand beside an arm chair in the corner of the room.

He shut up the balcony and drew the curtains.

I refilled our glasses while I waited. He took a sip of his and I took a mouthful or two. I didn’t want to get drunk, but I could feel it making me feel more relaxed and at ease with him.

He turned on the light, the bed lamp we’d had on earlier seemed to darken the room too much. His robe still remained open. “Let’s…,” I looked around, feeling my inhibitions coming back now that we were inside, no longer sharing that closeness. “Let’s sit on this arm chair.” There was barely room for both of us.

He obliged me and made his way over, shedding the robe.

He looked even better in the light. He sat and waited for me. I put the wine down and joined him. He patted his legs and waited for me to straddle him. I slid forward, closing the distance between us as he rested back.

“Can I pick up where we left off?” he wondered kindly. I liked that he thought to ask.

“Just a second,” I paused. “I just realised something…”

“What’s that, my heart?” he looked at me with curiosity. He did seem slightly impatient with my stalling, but he dealt with it all kindly, showing no annoyance with me.

“This is not just about me having my first time,” I made air quotes, “well, first one to count at least – I know you’ve been with others before, you’ve experienced all this, but this is your first time with me.”

A smile spread across his lips. “Yes… and I want it to be right.”

“I guess, I was being a bit selfish and was only caught up in what’s going on with me and my insecurities. Do you have any with me?”

“Of course,” he replied simply. “the pressure is on me, Mal, I’m making love to you for the first time; you’re other experience has been an awful time and its up to me to make you realise that sex can be pretty amazing when you’re sharing it with someone that you love.”

I nodded. “And even the insecurities I have about my body or how I might be are put to rest because I am trusting in my heart that they won’t matter to you. What I see and what you see are always different things.”

I nodded with understanding.

“Feels a bit like unwrapping a gift,” he remarked with a bit of a smile, “being with you – I know that’s totally cheesy.”

I grinned, “but without the disappointment of socks…” I added.

He glanced down at his jocks. “Never know, I could surprise you,” he winked and laughed.

I laughed with him. We both knew from the half-erection that he had, that he didn’t need the help of rolled up socks.

“You’re the best, Mal…” he murmured, “I’m so glad that I have you… I promise as soon as this trial is over, we’ll really start a nice life together. It’ll be a fresh start. Everything feels so right with you.”

He always knew what to say. I felt so much adoration for him. “And my first time with you already feels nerve-wracking in a way because I really don’t want to let you down. I want to be able to ease your fears and be enough for you. It’s more about you. I know how much of this is a big deal to you for so many reasons and I want it to be perfect.”

I felt my eyes welling up.

He looked at me lovingly and gave me a little smile.

“I want to make you realise that you’re in good, safe hands – all of that is on my shoulders Mal, and I don’t want to fail you.”

I almost felt bad and as soon as I started, he stopped me.

“I know none of that is your fault, I know that you love and trust me, but I just want to really prove it, like you asked me out there…”

He was so charming. My eyes searched his and I reached up to stroke his cheeks. I blinked back my tears. “So prove it then…” I murmured. My voice was soft and barely audible.

His hand gripped my robe sash and he held my gaze as I felt it open. My body became a display for him. He didn’t steal any glances of me though; he was good to me. He knew I was feeling insecure in the light. However, I felt my trauma return whenever I was left to the darkness.

I felt so vulnerable, but I really felt like the wine had taken my vulnerable, nervous edge off. I wasn’t shaking, my body wasn’t reacting inappropriately. I felt okay. A little overwhelmed, but okay.

His hands rested on the back of my waist. It felt weird to be so brazenly naked in front of him and also a little bit exciting. He pulled away from a kiss and searched my eyes for a brief moment.

“You can… look....” I had to push all of the words from my tongue, “if you want…” I told him coyly.

He smiled back at me and glanced down at my chest only briefly. I felt his erection grow beneath me. He wasn’t completely hard but I knew he’d been instantly turned on which helped me feel better. It made me aware that he liked what he saw.

“You’re gorgeous, but I already knew that,” he shrugged.

“Do you want to…. have- make love to me?” I asked him, stammering on my words. I was afraid that he might refuse me.

“Is that what you want?” he confirmed with me before he gave me an answer.

I loved his consideration. I rubbed his chest absently. I avoided his eyes and shyly nodded. “I think so… I think that’s what I want.”

He smiled.

Without much warning he slung an arm around my waist and lifted himself off the couch, taking me with him. I burst in to laughter as he struggled with me for an awkward and brief moment. I clung to him as I giggled dizzily.

He made the few footsteps to the bed, carrying me with him. He was laughing too; both of his arms wrapped around me, securing me. He supported my weight a little better as he got his footing. He was deceivingly strong. I loved that.

“How do you wanna try?” he asked, trying to keep good-natured. “Top or bottom?”

I laughed. He was now all about the business. “Whatever position you think will be best. I’m leaving myself in your capable hands…” I replied. He let go of me and let me fall a short distance to the mattress.

“Let’s see how we go here…” he said with a little laugh. I knew the wine had definitely taken its full effect because I didn’t care in the slightest that I was bare-chested on my back, looking up at him standing at the foot of the bed.

He gave me a once over. I didn’t feel the discomfort that I had earlier as his eyes surveyed me. I giggled, “You’re lovely.”

“You’re a bit buzzed…” he remarked with a cheeky grin.

“It took the edge off, that’s for sure.”

He climbed on top of me, covering me with his body.

“I’m not drunk though,” I told him, “I promise.”

“Okay, I’m just checking…” he added, planting a kiss on the tip of my nose. He lowered himself on me, capturing a kiss from me. I could feel his erection pressing in to me over the top of our clothes, grinding himself against me.

I moaned from the back of my throat; the sensation of his body against me taking me completely by surprise.

He ran a hand over my breast, thumbing at my nipple, instantly driving me insane. I bit in to his lip playfully as he pulled away. He covered my body with goose bumps as he kissed my neck and my collarbone, causing an ache between my legs where I began to feel eager for him to touch.

I reached for his jocks and slipped my thumb inside the elastic, making sure he was okay with me touching him beneath the fabric. He lifted himself off me for a moment, thinking I was trying to remove them.

“Can I touch you?” I whispered. I knew I probably didn’t need to ask, but the fear of rejection was somewhere embedded in to the back of my brain. I also wanted to give him the same respect of getting his permission as he had to me.

He grinned at me, “Do you think I’m going to say no to that?”

With trembling hands, I glided my hands over his hips around to his behind, squeezing his backside. He resumed kissing me, his arms supporting his weight, keeping a distance between us to allow me to touch him – at least enough room to explore his penis.

I must have been hesitating. “Its okay,” he whispered between kisses, “if you don’t want to…”

I wasn’t going to be scared. I ran my hand to the front of his waistband and travelled further down over the material of his jocks, cupping my hand over his hard mound, heavily restricted by the article of clothing.

It was his turn to moan in to my mouth as my touch sparked his arousal. I felt his tongue tasting mine, kissing me hard with passion and urgency. I reached further down, exploring him and enjoying the handful, trying to figure out where he began and where he ended.

I began to get frustrated that I couldn’t make out his model from the outside of the fabric. I removed my hands as we kissed breathlessly. I pushed down the waistband over his behind.

He pulled away from my lips.

“Sorry—“ I apologised.

“No,” he smiled, “you’re fine, just helping you out a little.”

He got up and eased off his jocks before me; his penis freed from its constraint. I felt slightly confronted and had to let my eyes fall shut for a very brief moment to silence anything that caused alarm bells in my mind.

I opened my eyes and knew that he had read it as me being taken by the moment rather than a slight bit of fear.

His erection stood to attention. He didn’t waste any time climbing over me. I didn’t know if I should have complimented him or said something, but what was I supposed to say? ‘Nice penis, babe…’

I chuckled interiorly.

“What?” Michael asked, alerting me to the fact that it wasn’t so internal.

“Nothing,” I smiled at him, “I was just saying to myself inside my head that you had a nice penis.”

“Really?”

“Well… I don’t have much to compare with, but uh… this one is more attractive and different.”

He laughed at me, confronted by my words. I didn’t know if he was big or small, really – but I felt concerned about what I was to expect.

He read my concerns immediately, “It’ll be fine. I’ll be careful,” he told me sweetly. “Promise,” he added.

There was no more talking. I let my hands explore his bare skin on his back as he covered his mouth over the skin where my shoulder and neck met. I relaxed, almost pushing myself in to the mattress behind me.

My heart began to race a little. There was something nice about being skin-to-skin with him. I felt a hand cover my breast again. I wasn’t going to protest when it felt so good. I let my eyes fall shut. My head felt a little woozy with lust and all I wanted was for him to run his hands all over me.

His hands smoothed my thigh as I lifted my leg, allowing more room for his body between my knees. His touch was giving me shivers. “That feels so good…” I whispered between kisses.

“Good…” he told me, catching the shell of my ear between his lips, tickling me. I giggled, shrugging him away. “That’s all I want for you…”

I was surprised when he changed his position, moving from over me, to beside me, resting his head on the pillow. I wondered what he was doing, if he had decided not to go any further. “Sorry,” I apologised, “did I ruin it by…” I wondered if my talking had thrown him off.

He smiled at me and shook his head, “you didn’t ruin anything.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. He got closer to me again, resting a hand on waist. I turned my head to face him. He slipped his thumb beneath the elastic of my bikini bottoms a little teasingly. I knew he was trying to gauge my reaction. 

“Do it…” I urged him, sealing it with a kiss, “undress me…” I wanted him to touch me and allow me the time to get comfortable with my nudity before I went farther with him. I decided it was best to be honest with him the whole way through it, but he was pretty good at reading my signals.

“I want to be .. comfortable with being naked with you before we…”

I didn’t need to continue. He eased my bikini bottoms down; side-by-side. I lifted my backside slightly as he pulled them down past my knees—down past my calves and finally over my ankles before tossing them aside.

He leaned closer and kissed me again, tasting my tongue before pulling away opening my eyes.

I was trembling a little bit. “Are you cold?” he wondered. It was the anticipation and probably nerves too; but suddenly I did feel cold.

“A little…” I told him, “but nerves probably.”

He let his hands slowly make its way over my stomach and chest and caressing my waist. “I’ll try to warm you up a bit…”

I swallowed the nerves sitting at the back of my throat. Each time he moved toward my waist, he let his fingers travel further and further down. Instinctively, I arched my back with pleasure. He kissed his way down my neck. I felt him making his way between my legs. I shut my eyes tightly and begged myself to relax.

His hand rest stationary for a few moments; I felt my legs open allowing him more room. I decided to just relax and let my body react how it wanted to naturally react.

I knew he would be able to tell that I was aroused. I gave a soft sigh; just enough to let him know it was okay, that I felt good.

I felt him move inside of me. The feeling took me by surprise and his gentleness did every little bit to ease any nerves that may have still been floating around in my tummy.

A moan erupted from the back of my throat as he explored me slowly. I turned my head to catch his mouth against mine. The pad of his finger briefly brushing against my clitoris sent my head in to a spin. It was perhaps a little too sensitive, but I was sure he realised that by my instant reaction.

Too much, too soon.

I wrapped an arm around him, gripping a little bit of flesh on his back.

“You all warmed up?” he asked me in a playful voice.

I couldn’t help but to laugh despite my clouded, lustful head. “Yeah…” I nodded eagerly. I felt him push his fingers further inside of me.

His kisses travelled down further past my neck, to my collarbones, covering his mouth over my skin. My back arched and I could feel my own legs trembling involuntarily, responding to the sensation that was building between my thighs.

I couldn’t help myself, I grabbed his backside, squeezing his flesh, pulling him closer to me as he explored me, feeling how wet I was. I could feel him against my thigh, as hard as a rock, patiently waiting for me to touch him. I heard him make a hissing sound and I knew that he liked me grabbing him.

I was about make a move to the front of him, but he surprised me by slowly kissing his way down south pressing his mouth over one of my nipples causing me to lose my breath.

I almost panicked. “Baby, what are you doing?” I asked even though I already knew. I lifted my head to look at him. I found him smiling back up at me.

“Warming you up…” he winked, he paused, waiting for my reaction. I knew that he wanted to go down on me.

I didn’t say a word. I lay back and closed my eyes. I braced myself with anticipation feeling both a little scared and excited. My body couldn’t hide just how much it wanted him so I blocked out the stupid thoughts and told myself to focus on Michael.

I trusted him implicitly and I had to keep reminding myself of that.

I felt his tongue swirling around my belly. I sucked it in, enjoying the way the cool air hit my damp skin of where his mouth had been. I opened my legs and watched him snake his way down to the end of the bed til his lips were kissing my thighs, drawing lines teasingly with his tongue.

Goosebumps covered my entire body from the way he was making me feel.

It felt so, so good. “Oh, Michael…” I gasped, feeling him pushing my thighs further apart.

I felt a little nervous, but the anticipation of his lips on me overpowered any stupid thoughts my head could have had.

From where he was, he could see my entire body – every part of me; the good and the bad. Ordinarily, that would have bothered me, but I was too far taken by the tingles coursing through me to even consider that.

He finally concentrated on the mound between my legs. He planted a kisses around my thighs and then one lingering one just above my opening, building my anticipation up.

“Shit…” I cursed, “Michael… stop it!”

“Stop?” he asked, surprised, lifting his head.

“No!” I laughed, lifting my head to look at him for a moment before dropping myself back against the mattress, frustrated, “I mean,” I began breathlessly, “stop teasing me!”

I could have passed out waiting for him to make his next move. My legs quivered as he ran his tongue in a line along my opening. The softness and warmth of it made me feel dizzy. I moaned his name out loud.

My fingers became entangled in his messy curls. He continued at his own slow pace. I was sure there was a big part of him that was turned on by my eagerness and my reactions. He grazed his tongue upon my clit, flicking it against me.

I gripped the blankets beneath my hand and curled my toes as if I was trying to sink further back in to the bed. I felt the pad of his thumb replacing where his tongue had just been. I writhed around beneath him as he worked me in a circular motion, flicking his tongue inside me. It was a feeling that I could barely contain. His touch against me was as light as a feather but it caused a sensation that was building up inside me and I wasn’t entirely prepared for it.

I felt myself tensing up, but it was too hard not to just give in to the feeling.

He lifted his thumb and inserted a finger or two inside me, letting his tongue work at me. He flicked his tongue against me and instantly I felt a gush of sensation coarse through my tummy, making my hips buck involuntarily.

I moaned his name, wanting him to just fill me up.

“Baby, please…” I begged him, whispering, “I want you…” I told him. The feeling he gave me made me senseless and woozy and desperate to feel his penis inside of me.

He didn’t argue, he kissed his way back up to my breasts, pausing to work his mouth over my nipple, thumbing at my other, making it stand to attention.

I reached down between us, running my hand along his length. I hadn’t been sure what to expect, but I liked what I saw. He kissed my lips and pulled away. He let his eyes fall shut, composing himself as I ran my palm along the length of his hardness.

“Wai-wai-wait a sec…” he stammered. “Hold that thought, sweetheart-“

He got up and went to the bag he’d packed. A few moments later, he reappeared, holding up a bottle of lube. I felt my cheeks redden.

“Well,” I joked, “you just thought of everything, didn’t you?”

He smirked at me and shrugged, covering my body with his. “What can I say, I’m thoughtful…”

I grinned at him. He certainly was. He thought of things that I hadn’t even considered – or wouldn’t have even thought to consider for fear of embarrassing myself.

I just held my hand out as he kneeled comfortably between my legs, not any bit shy about his erection springing forward to attention. He raised his eyebrow and handed me the bottle without question.

I eased up a little, trying not to feel intimidated by his penis. I opened the bottle, fumbling with it a little nervously. I squeezed some in to my hand and glanced at him.

I reached for his penis and smoothed the clear liquid over his length. He relaxed down beside me. I had zero expertise in that area and I had no idea if I was doing the right thing. “Is that okay?” I asked him, hoping that my questions weren’t off-putting.

He took my hand and guided me. I appreciated the help. He grabbed the lube that I had thrown down beside us. He squeezed more of it in a line along his shaft and guided me to spread it more liberally over him, focusing on his head.

“Ahh, yeah…” he murmured, “that-that’s good-“ he stammered, letting go of my hand. I loved to know that I was making him feel good, wanting him to know that his patience was appreciated and that I could also return all of the same feelings that he had given me just moments earlier.

I used my other hand to reach beneath his penis, taking his balls in the palm of my hand to massage him.

“You’re a natural…” he complimented me. I just chuckled, feeling a little more confident as I focused on circling the head of his penis with my thumb. I loved the sound of his moans of pleasure.

“K…” he stopped me.

Obviously he didn’t want me to make him come.

We kissed passionately as he took my shoulders and pushed me on to my back. I knew it was about to happen. I wanted it to happen, in fact, the feelings between my legs wanted it to happen.

I knew I had to relax.

“You ready, my heart?” he asked, kissing me.

I nodded. I reminded myself how much I loved him. But, the feeling of him on top of me, ready to push himself in to me made me tremble again.

“Can you…” I stopped myself, feeling a little silly.

“Can I?” he pressed. I looked in to his eyes and saw how sincere he was.

“Can you hold my hand?” I requested, averting my eyes, feeling a little embarrassed.

He pressed his lips against mine softly. He reached for my hand and laced his fingers through mine. He made it seem like it was such a simple and normal request that I felt instantly assured.

I glanced at our hands against the mattress beside my head. I could feel him guiding himself to my opening. I closed my eyes and relaxed. I felt his head slide inside of me.

It was all a little uncomfortable – not painful, not what I was expecting, not as difficult or as rough as I had remembered, but it all felt a bit weird. He kissed my face and gave my hand a squeeze. Almost as if he wanted to gauge how I felt.

I gave him a squeeze back.

“I love you,” he told me, “are you okay? I don’t want to hurt you…” he asked quietly, a little desperately as he moved deeper.

I was grateful that I wasn’t the only one with insecurities.

I nodded again, “I love you too.” I started to feel pressure as he deepened within me. “Keep going…” I told him, ignoring the discomfort I felt. I wanted him inside of me; I wanted to get through it because I knew every time after would be better.

He stayed motionless. He let go of my hand and smoothed my face, making sure I was okay. I knew he could tell that I was uncomfortable and I was putting on a brave face.

“I’m gonna stop…” he announced. “I d-“

“No,” I protested, “go ahead, Michael, I love you—I want you.” I let out a tension-relieving laugh, “you better not stop now!”

He laughed too and kissed me again; my forehead, my cheeks and then my lips.

He pushed himself in to me just a tiny bit further. I closed my eyes as he slowly began to move in and out of me. I felt myself adjusting to him, enjoying the friction between us. I concentrated on how much I loved him and how much he was enjoying me.

I opened my eyes and watched him; his eyes clamped shut, concentrating. I felt his shaft against my clit. He thrust inside me.

I couldn’t help but to smile to myself as his hips moved in a rhythmic way that reminded me of the slightly dirty thoughts I used to have of him when I saw him on stage.

I grabbed on to his waist and let him hold his own weight; both of his hands propping himself up on the mattress beside my head.

“You feel so good, Mal…” he told me between thrusts.

I began to forget about the discomfort; enjoying him making love to me. I was proud of allowing myself to be vulnerable. He reached down and smoothed my breasts, giving attention to my nipples that brought me great pleasure in the moment.

The fullness of having him in me, thrusting deeply and picking up his pace was giving me a feeling that I wasn’t really able to describe.

Our hips found a rhythm together and I gained confidence very quickly. He did most of the work, I appreciated that, but he knew what he was doing.

With his dancer’s fluidity, he moved in and out of me, each time, a little more roughly. He barely broke a sweat. Me, on the other hand, I was breathless and wasn’t sure how much more I could take of his penis plunging in to me deeply.

“Michael-“ I protested as he thrust a little too deeply, making me tense up, “please-“

I knew he realised immediately, “I’m sorry-“ he said quickly, kissing me, “I’m sorry.”

I wrapped my legs around him. I could tell he was almost ready to come. In fact, I was surprised he had lasted as long as he had, given how long it had been since he’d had sex.

He tried to help me along, pressing two fingers on my clit, massaging me as he thrust in to me. I moaned, shocked by his touch.

I felt him move out of me very slowly, driving me crazy, leaving just the head of his penis inside, resting there for a moment, building up anticipation before finally plunging inside of me one last time. I felt him warmly filling me.

He gave a moan while his orgasm coursed through him and in to me.

He planted kisses over my face as he calmed down. My heartbeat began to slow. I felt him pulling out of me. “Do you love me?” he asked me in an almost-whisper.

“Of course I love you,” I replied, holding on to his hand. He flipped down beside me. He kissed my upper arm and rested his cheek on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I was breathless and I was happy that I had managed to push past all of my trauma for long enough to enjoy being with him. “Yeah, I’m fine…” I murmured. And I was fine, I was just a little overwhelmed. “I’m just thinking.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, Michael,” I smiled, turning my head to him, “It felt good to be with you, I enjoyed you.”

I let go of his hand and turned my body toward him. I ran my hand over his shoulder. He was smiling, glad for the assurance.

“I hope I was enough…”

“You will always be enough.” I replied, wondering where all his insecurities were coming from. I didn’t want our post-sex conversation to be so serious. I wasn’t sure I had the emotional capacity to deal with serious conversation. “Thanks for being so patient with me.”

He slipped an arm beneath my head and drew me close to him. He laughed. “As if I wasn’t going to be patient with you!”

“I know… but… still, you were incredibly patient, Michael. Even if you got a case of the blue balls in the process.”

We both laughed. He planted a kiss on my forehead. “You are worth it, my heart. The bluest of balls couldn’t take that away.” I liked that we could laugh together.

I did, however, feel uncomfortable laying naked and a little damp from perspiration and the stickiness between us. He drew patterns absently on my back as we both drifted off in to our own silent, private thoughts.  

I just wanted to have a shower. I wanted to sneak away for a few moments just to recollect my thoughts and give myself an internal talking to, to make sure my mind was okay.

I really did feel okay, and I wasn’t regretful of any part of my decision to sleep with him, but I just needed a moment to take stock. I wasn’t sure how long I should wait before it wouldn’t seem like I was running away. I didn’t want him to think something was wrong.

“Baby?”

“Mmm?”

“I think I’m gonna go have a shower. I’m getting a bit cold,” I announced.

“Okay…” his voice trailed off. “Would it be too presumptuous of me if I expected that I could join you?” he asked innocently. “I just want to be with you…”

I considered it for a moment. I knew I wasn’t going to get that time to myself, but it was all right. I couldn’t exactly say no.

“Sure.” I smiled at him, “when you put it like that…”

He got up first and showed absolutely no sign of modesty. He didn’t care if I saw him naked or not. Knowing that I felt so shy being exposed, he handed me my robe from the floor.

I thanked him and wrapped it around me and followed him to the bathroom.

**

End Notes:

REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! .... actually, I'm a bit anxious about the kinds of reviews that could be left for this chapter lol. 

Chapter 66 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Round two. Bow chicka wowowwww. 

Joking, this is not a porn. I repeat, this is not a porn.

Much. :)

Chapter 66

I took our towels off the heated racks and placed them over the top of the shower recess. I gave Malania a moment to herself as I got the shower ready for us.

I was a bit disappointed that she didn’t come; I felt bad—like I’d failed in making her feel what I experienced. I stepped in the shower and let the water wash over my face. I grabbed the showerhead and rinsed myself off.

I heard the door open and Malania came in after me. I wondered if her inhibitions had returned after we’d made love. I decided not to confront her by turning around while she was fully naked. I heard the shower door open after a few moments and felt her presence right behind me.

“Hi…” she greeted me, wrapping her arms around me from behind. I rested my arms on hers and laced my fingers with hers.

“Hi yourself,” I replied, reaching up and moving the showerhead so that it wasn’t spraying directly in my face. I turned around to face her and held her.

She was so beautiful and her cheeks were still glowing from her earlier activities. I didn’t entirely believe that she was okay. Afterwards, she didn’t say a lot which brought to light my own set of insecurities.

“Sweetheart, was that okay in there?” I asked her. She rested her cheek on my chest. I felt her draw in a deep breath. “I kinda feel like you got quiet.”

“Everything was fine,” she replied, looking up at me with a reassuring smile. I knew she was telling the truth. “But I guess this has been a really big night for me—I’m just being a little introspective, maybe.”

Malania often had a habit of disappearing within herself. She got quiet, she became thoughtful and she generally didn’t want to talk about it how she felt. I respected that, but it was easy for me to sometimes feel like she was upset with me.

“Okay—you know if you want to talk about it, we can.”

She gave me a smile. She looked a little tired. It was well after midnight and I wasn’t really tired, myself. I took her face in my hands and kissed her under the light spray of the shower.

“Maybe we’ll talk about it later, right now I just want to enjoy hanging out with you.”

That sounded good to me.

She looked in to my eyes and smiled. “You look pretty hot with your hair all wet and curly like that…” her voice trailed off as she reached up to run her fingers through it.

I couldn’t help but to laugh. “I’m going to have a case of bed head when we get up in the morning,” I informed her. “It’ll be crazy.”

“That’s okay… I just think you are so fucking gorgeous,”

I laughed again – still, after all these months, her curses shocked me a little bit. Especially when she was using them in a positive context. “Oh Mal, you have a way with words. Your compliments certainly pack a punch.”

I felt a little better knowing that she was still smiling despite being a little quiet. She didn’t seem adversely affected by our experience together which was probably my biggest fear.

“So how do you feel?” I asked, playing with her hair, “how would you rate your experience?”

“What,” she asked, “do you want like a score out of ten?”

I shrugged, “I just want to know that you enjoyed yourself and you aren’t scared off by my Frankenstein penis.”

Both of us cracked up. I still couldn’t get past her telling me that I had a Frankenstein penis. It was still incredibly amusing to me.

“No Michael, I wasn’t scared off. I am glad that we had sex. I enjoyed myself and I know it will get easier for me each time we do it…”

I kissed her forehead. If I’d made her come, I was sure that she would have been more enthusiastic about enjoying it. I didn’t entirely believe she was able to enjoy her first time with me. I knew she didn’t hate it, she told me how good she felt, and she had turned to putty beneath my hands – but she would have enjoyed herself even more if she was able to orgasm too.

She drew in a deep breath. “Can you hand me the shampoo?” she asked me, pointing to the little bottle that was sitting in a small caddy.

I turned behind me and grabbed it for her and opened it, squeezing some in her hands. I took a step back, giving her some room as I let go of her and rinsed my own face back under the stream of water.

I closed my eyes and let the water run down my and down my chest.

When I opened my eyes, Malania was staring at me, lathering her hair up with a cheeky smile on her face.

“What are you smiling at?” I asked.

“Nothing, I was just admiring you…” she remarked.

I laughed a little bashfully. I reached up and ran my fingers through her hair. “Lemme help…”

I slowly massaged the soap in to her scalp. I could tell she instantly enjoyed it; goose bumps surfaced upon the skin of her arms and shoulders. She gave a little shiver. I watched the suds trickle down her neck and upon her collarbones, down between the valley of her breasts.

I couldn’t help myself; I smoothed the suds over her skin, lathering up her shoulders. Her eyes fell shut. I brought her close to me under the spray of the shower, smoothing the soap from her hair, letting my fingertips take through her soft, wet hair, down her back.

“That feels nice…” she smiled, avoiding getting water in her eyes.

I felt an ache in my crotch, knowing that her responsive body was turning me on.

“Yeah?” I pressed. I let my hands fall on to her backside, giving her flesh a little squeeze, drawing her hips against mine.

“Yeah…” her voice trailed off. She opened her eyes, surprised by my sudden bout of boldness.

She grinned at me, “Michael,” she giggled, “you really are an ass man, aren’t you?”

“I am…” I told her, grabbing her again, this time a little more gentle. “I mean, I’m a, ‘everything-about-you’, type man, but you have a great ass, I can’t even lie.”

“Just shut up and kiss me…” she said in a playful voice, but I knew she was serious. I did as she asked, obliging her a kiss.

I felt her hands all over me too, caressing my back, my wet hair, my ass. My penis was getting hard and I wasn’t even trying to be discreet about it. My tongue filled her mouth and danced along with hers, slow at first but it picked up pace with passion and urgency that was clearly not just one-sided.

Malania had me pressed against the wall. I could feel her small hands snaking their way down my pecs, down my stomach and reaching between my legs and cupping me. I gasped with surprised, breaking off the kiss momentarily.

“Mal…” I hissed, “fuck…”

“Yeah?” she teased me right back, “does that feel good?” she asked as she stroked my shaft. I loved her initiative and that she obviously felt comfortable with me now.

“Yes…” I took her hand, guiding her, showing her how I liked it. I knew she was still a little unsure of herself, “that feels so good…” I murmured, leaning my head against the stark, white tiles.

Before I became too worked up, I grabbed her wrist. “Stop, stop, stop—“ I halted her, “you made me come before.” I spoke frankly in to her ear between kisses; letting my words reverberate softly on her skin, “it’s your turn to come.”

There was a part of her that protested briefly, but she yielded herself to my touch.

I kissed my way down to her breasts, taking one of them in to my mouth. Her pink nipple hardened under my tongue. She buried her fingers in my hair as she gave a soft moan. I encircled an arm around her waist, supporting her weight as I noticed her knees weakened slightly.

She reached up and pushed the spray of the water in another direction. I was happy for that, I felt a little drowned and I knew water and sex were sometimes a problematic duo.

I badly wanted to be inside of her. I just wanted to make her come. I slipped my fingers inside of her and waited for a reaction that would make her body react in a way that she probably wouldn’t have been ready for. I watched her neck drop back and a moan escaped her throat. She hadn’t really been anticipating me to make such a bold move so quickly.

“Oh shit…” she muttered.

It only took a few seconds for her to become wet. I moved in and out of her slowly at first, watching her shiver and writhe around. She cursed and moaned with pleasure.

She looked so fucking hot.

“Faster…” she urged me. She didn’t have to tell me twice. I pushed further inside of her and felt her back arch as I pressed lightly on her clitoris, brushing against it as I deepened my fingers within her.

I wanted her. My penis was rock hard again. She sluggishly tried to grab for me, but I wasn’t interested in that just yet. I grabbed her hand away. “No,” I told her assertively, “let’s just worry about you right now,” I told her.

She gave up and encircled her arms around my neck, allowing me to support some of her weight. “Let’s get out of the shower…” she panted, “I want you…” she didn’t really strike me as confident enough to tell me explicitly what she wanted, but it was sure implied.

“You want what?” I teased.

“Michael…” she stammered impatiently, “don’t.”

I obnoxiously paused my fingers inside of her. “Don’t what? Don’t do this?” I asked as I rubbed her clit more directly in a circular motion. She moaned loudly as her legs threatened to buckle.

“Don’t…” she started again, “don’t fucking tease me like that… I want you in me…”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I cupped her ass in my hands and hoisted her up, my penis causing a brief discomfort between us. I pressed her against the tiles and guided my dick inside of her.

She gasped in both shock and pleasure, I wasn’t sure if it was entirely comfortable for her. With one arm around her, I turned the faucet off as she kissed me hungrily. I planned on transporting our little party back to the bed, but I felt her tightening around me and wondered if either of us would last that long.

Once out of the shower, we made it as far as the bathroom vanity. I felt her teeth sink gently in to my earlobe. My ears were by far a very sensitive area of my body. Her little kisses behind my ear and around it, always drove me crazy. Hearing her moans reverberate against it almost sent me over the edge.

With her ass on the edge of the vanity, I slid my penis in and out of her slowly, allowing her to get used to me again, not wanting to hurt her. She supported her own weight, leaning back on her hands behind her. I lifted her leg, allowing myself better access to her, enjoying the view of her breasts bare free before me, waiting to be touched.

“Is that okay?” I asked her, picking up speed a little.

“Y-ye-yes…” she nodded, her eyes clamped shut, her hips bucking forward to meet my short, deep thrusts.

“You look so fucking hot, Mal…” I told her. I grabbed gently at a mound of flesh, thumbing at her nipple.

“Go faster, deeper…” she told me. I liked it when she guided me too, so I knew she was enjoying it. I didn’t want her to just take it anyway I decided to give it to her.

My thrusts became deeper, plunging fully inside of her. I grabbed her thighs, pulling her almost completely off of the edge of the vanity. I moved in and out her faster and deeper than in our last round.

I glanced up at her, making sure she still looked comfortable. She was biting her bright pink lips; her face lacked inhibition and she had thrown caution to the wind with any insecurity that may have encumbered her earlier. She couldn’t have been anymore naked with me, neither physically nor emotionally.

I could feel her getting close to orgasm as her walls tightened around me and her body began to tense up. I could feel her becoming self aware, trying to stop herself from riding it out.

“Relax!” I told her quickly, thrusting again, slipping the pad of my fingertip over her clit. “Go for it, Mal…”

She took a deep breath. I thought the urge for her was gone, but I kept going, moving in and out of her until I felt the tension ripple through her. She grabbed for me with one of her arms, hooking it around me, bringing me closer as I felt my own orgasm building up.

She dug her nails in to my skin, grabbing at anything that she could, trying to draw me closer as she moaned my name. I massaged her clit again for a moment until I was satisfied she had reached her release.

The tension of her around my penis as I plunged in to her, exploding inside of her almost made me pass out. My dick spasmed uncontrollably; filling her up with my warmth. She wrapped her legs around me breathlessly. I rested two hands on the vanity on either side of her, supporting my weight since my legs felt suddenly weak.

“Shit…” I panted, shaking my head, “shit that was amazing…”

She didn’t say anything; she chuckled shyly and put her arms around me. I drew her in and cuddled her for a moment, feeling her beaded nipples pressing against my bare chest as our heart beats calmed down.

I ran my fingers through her hair absently and stared at my reflection in the mirror behind her that I had somehow failed to notice the entire time. “You okay?” I asked.

“Yes…” she nodded.

I created some distance between us. “You sure?” I asked, lifting her chin with my pointer.

She nodded and smiled at me; a giddy, besotted, adoring smile. It made me feel like a hero in her eyes. “Yeah, I’m more than sure…”

I felt good. “Guess we should have another rinse off, right?”

She laughed. “Guess so…”

There was a short trail of water that we’d created on the way to the bathroom vanity. I almost laughed thinking of how easy it would have been for me to slip while carrying both of our weights.

 Jacko breaks legs in sex-frenzy with wacko girlfriend.

I made a mental note to share my thought with Malania after our post-sex affections had waned.

This time I let Malania wash her hair properly and I washed mine. We cuddled in the shower briefly, but mostly we were about business. I got out first and handed her a towel and got her robe sorted and left it on the back of the bathroom door.

I left her to her own devices and had a glass of wine while I waited. It was almost three o’clock in the morning but it was nothing for us to stay up this late usually.

I was surprised by how confident I felt around her in my own skin. Even with Diane, she could never seem to make me feel brazen enough to walk around naked for too long, but having Malania stare at me as I walked from room to room in absolutely nothing didn’t phase me at all.

She looked at me with complete adoration. Her eyes fell over me as someone who was completely drinking me in, rather than silently judging.

She had a pair of neon green bikini briefs on. And brief they were. She probably wasn’t going for sexy, but they were a touch on the lacy side and when she wore them without a top, she definitely achieved sexy.

I watched her take one of my white v-necks from my bag and slip it on over her head.

“Aww,” I pouted, “I thought I was going to get to sleep next to you semi naked.”

She flashed me a cheeky grin. “Well, I’m not sleeping just yet, am I?”

“Good point. Though, I’m almost ready to sleep.”

I adjusted the air conditioner and watched her make the bed up again after we’d made a mess of it earlier. “Me too…” she yawned. “Plus, I feel like I’ve used muscles just now that I haven’t used since I used to do track in school.”

I laughed. “I doubt you used all of those muscles running,” I joked.

She laughed with me as I turned off the lights and left our bedside ones on.

She slipped beneath the covers and I followed suit. I got comfortable, primping the pillows beneath my head. “I love hotel beds…” I murmured.

“I don’t… I never sleep good,” she replied.

“Stick with me, kid, I always make sure I get the best of the hotel bed situation. On tour, I can’t afford to have a bad night’s sleep.”

She arranged all of her pillows properly and grabbed the hem of my shirt that covered her. She pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. She slipped down beneath the covers.

“I love you…” she informed me, leaning over and pressing her lips against mine.

“I love you too, my heart.” I kissed her back. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”

I wanted her to be honest with me rather than giving me a ‘good,’ and ‘okay’ response.

“I’m feeling as though I’m incredibly in love with my boyfriend and I feel blessed that once again, he’s come through for me during another important time in my life.”

“It’s just that you’ve been quiet and I worry when you disappear inside yourself. I can’t read how you’re feeling,” I told her frankly, staring in to her eyes.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed, if I can be honest,” she gave me her best smile but I could see she was trying hard not to become emotional. “I guess, I expected that having sex with you was going to be a lot more traumatic than it was.”

I raised my eyebrow. “How so?”

“I don’t ever want to tell you details of what happened to me, Michael, I don’t need you to know that – but what I will tell you was that you were right; Raia was right… my experience with you was from a place of love and it wasn’t similar at all in any aspect—and I don’t even know what I was expecting-but-“

I saw her eyes covered by a clear film of water. “But in your past you were abused, in this present situation, I was just loving you… that’s why it was entirely different,” I broke in.

She nodded wordlessly, trying to compose herself.

“I kept waiting for it to feel wrong—but it didn’t and I know it won’t.”

I slipped an arm around her. She nestled in to the crook of my shoulder. “No, it won’t… because I absolutely love the shit out of you and that’s the only way I ever want you to feel when you make love with me.”

I felt her body shift beneath me as she laughed. “I love the shit out of you too, Mike…”

I took her hand and entwined our fingers. “And all that aside, the sex was good?” I wanted to know.

“Oh yes,” she answered, nodding her head and laughing, “you know how to deliver a good show, Michael, let’s put it that way.”

I laughed, “Well that’s comforting to hear. I was almost a bit scared to ask cos you didn’t say much earlier.”

“Honestly, I’m glad we did it twice.”

“I’ll bet you are,” I teased her, nudging her, “you seemed to come pretty hard yourself the second time.”

She let go of my hand and covered her face with hers with embarrassment. I chuckled lightly. “Aww, I’m teasing, I’m glad you got to come too.”

“Stoooooppppp!” she slapped me playfully on the chest.

“No, but for real…” I insisted, “we can talk about this stuff… right?”

“I guess…” she murmured, a little bashful.

“Well look, I’m just saying, I’m glad that despite it being your first time and all, that you got something out of it too, that was important to me; that it wasn’t just for the sake of getting through the motions.”

“Thanks Michael…” her voice trailed off. “For everything that you’ve done tonight and for how you’ve managed to make our night incredibly special without being a slimey cheeseball.”

I laughed, “what would have made me slimey and cheese-ball like?”

“I don’t know,” she chuckled, “like, rose petals on the bed and candles or trying to feed me chocolate-coated strawberries or some other gross shit.”

“Lucky I didn’t bust all that out, huh? What you got against strawberries?”

“Nothing, but I’m not an invalid, I can feed myself. I remember Beth telling me her first time was in high school with some jock who did all that stuff; it made me want to throw up, but she was gushing over it…”

“Ahh, this is why I love you. You’re hilarious and call it as you see it. For the record, I wouldn’t have even thought to do anything like that. Diamond bracelets are more my style.”

“Good. Just remember, I don’t want to be fed anything. I can feed myself.”

“Noted.” I smiled, kissing her forehead and feeling so content.

We both fell in to silence for a few moments. I felt my eyes start to grow heavy. I knew hers were already shut.

I felt her chest rising as she let out a big, silent yawn. “I think I’m falling asleep…” she murmured softly. “Goodnight baby.”

“Mmm, me too. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

She lifted her head, tilting her chin to look at me. I pecked her lips briefly. She snuggled back in to the crook of my arm. I reached over and turned off the lamp above our head.

I let my eyes fall shut.

Just as I was drifting off to sleep, a pang of panic hit me.

I was irresponsible and stupid. I hadn’t worn a condom for years, nor had I worn one earlier.

Diane and I were taken care of; I wouldn’t have been unhappy to have a child with her. I would have been happy with a baby with Malania too, but not with both of our current states.

I wondered if I should wake her up and alert her to my immediate thoughts.

I felt like it was a little glib to ignore the faux pas we had just made, but I decided not to wake her up and worry her. It had to be discussed, but perhaps it could have waited for morning.

I would have welcomed a child at any point of my life, but with everything so up in the air, it wasn’t really a good idea. The timing was off – and we were bot still dealing with our own personal issues. I didn’t want to be an absent father.

I was pretty certain that with her being caught up in every other aspect of the evening, she probably didn’t consider protection; but maybe I was wrong. Maybe she was taking birth control, for all I knew it could have been the case.

Troubled, I stared at the ceiling, thinking of all the ramifications that sex without protection could cause us.

I wasn’t concerned with STIs; I knew where I’d been and I knew where she’d been, but even if I wanted to be a Dad, I could never expect that she would be ready to be anyone’s mother.

I resolved that I would bring it up in the morning. If necessary, I would organise for Carsen to get us something from the pharmacist.

 

But now, suddenly I felt wide, wide awake.

End Notes:

So, where should this head? And no, she's not giving him head.

Yet. 

Nor is she going to pop out a screaming, unrelenting child in the middle of Michael's trial. 

Yet. 

Chapter 67 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

What happens when you don't wear a protection!? 

Whoopsie doodle! 

Chapter 67

I woke up early in the morning buried beneath a mess of my own fluffy hair. I knew I’d given Michael a dead arm in the night. He had woken me up trying to extricate himself from the embrace we had fallen asleep in.

I rolled over and swept my hair up out of the way and inched back, nestling myself in to his body. He draped an arm over me, cupping my bare breast in his hand. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt comfortable. His body was warm as was mine and I had affection for him within my heart that I knew no words would adequately convey.

I considered getting up and going for a morning walk along the beach, but I just wanted to lay in the warmth of Michael’s arms for as long as possible, not wanting our experience with one another to end so soon.

Soon enough we would be back to reality. We would be headed off to our respective therapists, the trial would begin and then life would grow a little more tumultuous for us again.

“You awake?” Michael murmured in to my ear.

“Yeah baby…” I yawned.

I felt him kiss the back of my neck. “Let’s not get up yet…”

“I don’t know if I can go back to sleep—“ I told him honestly. I always seemed to wake up like clockwork each day at around 8am. Quite late generally speaking, but not really given how late we usually stayed up.

He hushed me and stroked my arm. I closed my eyes and tried my hardest to sleep again.

I woke up a little while later. I looked around and couldn’t find Michael anywhere. “Michael?” I called out, sitting up, pulling the white sheet up under my arms.

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “Where are you?” I asked, rubbing my eyes and yawning.

“I’m just here…” he announced, appearing in the doorway. “You were looking so sweet sleeping there,” he remarked, “I wanted to let you rest.”

He had his hair tied back and was wearing absolutely nothing but a pair of white jocks. He leaned over the bed and kissed me on the lips. “Good morning…”

“You look gorgeous today.”

“My hair’s crazy,” he told me, smoothing it down subconsciously. I wasn’t too worried about his hair, I was more interested in his smooth, entirely hairless caramel-coloured skin.

“Whatever… your hair is crazy but your body looks hot as heck,” I informed him.

He took a seat on the bed beside me. I reached over and drew a line from his shoulder blade to his chest, mapping my touch over a very light patch of skin. “Is this what you were talking about before?”

He grabbed my hand almost a little irritated. “Yes.” He reached down to grab the shirt that I’d tossed aside when I went to sleep the night before.

“No…” I said quickly, realising I had hit a raw nerve. I’d seen his scars, I’d never mentioned anything about it. It was something we both politely ignored. I knew it bothered him and it was something that he had become increasingly worried about since we met. “Don’t do that,” I added.

“I don’t really want to-“

“I don’t care.” I cut him off. “I love you. I don’t care about your scars, I don’t care if they get worse; I just want you to be comfortable with me and talk to me if its bothering you, let’s not pretend it doesn’t exist – like I do with my scars.”

We both knew I wasn’t only talking about physical scars.

“I don’t like talking about it,” he said to me with a sigh. “It makes me nervous to think about how I’m going to look in ten years from now.”

I gave him a cheeky little smile, “Still hot, I’d say.”

He nudged me gently with his shoulder. “No, for real…”

“I know you worry about it, Michael and the concerns are valid, especially when you’re a public face – but you’re worrying about nothing. If it gets worse you can worry, but for now its okay. You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

He just nodded. I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I love you…”

Slowly he smiled at me. “I love you too… It’s too early for this conversation.”

I decided to let it go. “What’s on the cards for today?” I asked him. “Are you coming back to bed to snuggle me?”

His smile grew in to a grin. “No, I’m downstairs making breakfast for you.”

I laughed. Michael had really learned some skills while I was away at treatment. “Really?” I wondered, “what are you making me?”

“Actually, I have to be honest, I ordered room service, but I’m just getting ready to bring it up here so we can eat together on the balcony if you like.”

“Sounds great.”

**

I got up and made my way to the bathroom to splash my face and brush my teeth from the night before. The bathroom was a little bit of a mess from how we’d left it. Seeing the towels in a puddle on the floor, I reflected back on how everything went.

I felt my cheeks flush as I remembered being hoisted on to the bathroom countertop and entirely losing my senses as soon as he slid in to me. I never thought I’d be able to relax enough with anyone to be able to let them take care of business. I imagined that the second I started to feel any kind of loss of control, I’d be panicked and stopping them.

Michael was the perfect mix of reassuring and assertive. Maybe I wouldn’t have allowed myself to orgasm if he hadn’t been so insistent that he wanted me to have a turn. Maybe I wouldn’t have allowed him to put me in just about any position he wanted me in, had he not given me the time and space I needed to become comfortable with my nudity, his intimate touch and his affection.

“What are you grinning at?” he asked, standing in the doorway with his arms folded looking pleased with himself.

The grin immediately faded and was replaced with rosy cheeks. “Nothing,” I replied.

“Don’t tell me nothing…” he had a beautiful smile adorning his lips. The tension lines caused by our conversation just moments earlier were gone from his forehead.

My instant reaction was to cover my breasts with hands, feeling a little shy as he came behind me while I stared at his reflection in the mirror. I told myself not to be stupid, he was naked save for a pair of grey trunks, leaving very little to my imagination.

“I was just thinking about last night, actually.” I told him, trying to be nonchalant.

He grinned too. “Bit of a mess in here isn’t it?” he nodded toward the same sopping wet towels pooled on the floor.

“I’ll tidy up after breakfast so that the cleaners don’t think we’re giant sloths.”

He rested his hands on my hips and leaned in to kiss my forehead. “I’m glad to see you grinning over it. Makes me feel like you really enjoyed yourself.”

“I did,” I told him, putting some toothpaste on my brush.

“I’ll let you finish up here and I’ll meet you on the balcony…” he kissed me again and let his hand graze from my hips, across my waist as he left me to it. Sometimes his touch was so brief but it managed to make me feel so wanted.

I brushed my teeth to get rid of my morning breath and then threw a white tank on that I plucked at random from my bag. It was already warming up outside. From the balcony window I could see the sun burning its way through the clouds, shining straight through the curtains.

Michael had left the sliding door open, waiting for me.

I was pretty impressed with the tray of food Michael had ordered. He had placed it on a small outdoor setting to the left corner of the balcony. I wondered what had changed overnight, he had almost been frightened of standing outside, worried that someone might see him.

He didn’t seem bothered one little bit. I decided not to say a word about it.

“This looks great,” I smiled, taking a seat. Upon the tray was the kind of breakfast I hadn’t eaten since being with Michael at Neverland. Muesli and yoghurt with berries; there was French toast with maple syrup and scrambled eggs and tea! I loved that he always remembered my tea.

“Time to start eating better, huh?” he remarked. He was referring to the fact that we were both frequently smashing through boxes of coco puffs for more than a meal or two a day.

I laughed. “Maybe.”

“You know, when we get home, we could get Carsen to go proper grocery shopping for us, so we can eat real food – we could both cook, you could teach me more?”

“You know what I’d like?” I said slowly and thoughtfully. Michael waited for me to continue. “I’d like to actually do something a bit normal, myself. Maybe I’ll go grocery shopping.”

He started to smile wistfully. “I wish I could go grocery shopping. It seems like such a dumb thing to aspire to—but goodness, could you imagine?” I felt bad because the very idea excited him. His smile spread in to a grin that lit up his face. His eyes seemed to twinkle when he talked about doing ‘normal’ things. “Remember that time we went to Pismo beach and we went to the corner store where the shopkeeper saw us?”

I nodded. I hated that. It was a horrifying sight when we arrived back to Neverland. I tried not to show my revolt for that situation. I smiled, encouraging him to continue as I grabbed a piece of the French toast.

“Getting to go inside that little shop and just look at all the products was so much fun—I am aware how lame that sounds – and I’m not so out of touch that groceries excite the shit out of me, but the experience would be cool. To just be all, ‘Ok, Mal, I’ve got the list, let’s go’ and we jump in the car and go shopping together. I’d push the cart and read the list out to you and you’d buy the right products—we’d squabble over what toilet paper to buy or what soap smells better.”

I listened to him dream out loud and felt myself becoming a little emotional; my vision became blurred by a clear film of water. Michael was grinning away, spooning some scrambled eggs on to his plate absently.

I blinked back the tears. I felt a little silly for getting so emotional, but the fact of the matter was that I would never get to experience all of those normal things with him – not only that, but also he was so incredibly sheltered by his own fame that normal things seemed like an exciting fantasy. It saddened me to tears.

“Wait—“ he quickly halted himself. The smile dropped from his lips, “Mal, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” I chuckled, feeling dumb. I wiped my eyes. “I’m just being stupid.”

“No,” he said, his eyes gazing in to mine, silently demanding an explanation, “what’s wrong, why are you crying?”

“I just feel sad that those normal things have been taken away from you… that’s all, I know its silly.”

He seemed a little surprised and I knew he was briefly considering my words. His troubled look was quickly replaced by a smile again. “Don’t worry, my heart, whenever I’m bothered by things like this, I just remember how blessed my life has been to date… you can’t even imagine the amazing adventures I’ve been able to live since being a child.”

He wasn’t fooling me. He had made the comment that he toured so often as a child and in to adulthood that half of the time he had no idea where he was and that there was rarely time to even do anything besides rest and sing.

I didn’t want to make him feel sad so I just summoned up my best smile. “Sorry, that was a really cute little scenario. I wish we could do that too.”

He reached over and slipped his hand behind my neck and stroked my skin softly and affectionately, regarding me with a loving look. “One day, Mal, I promise… We’ll have a normal time together.”

I focused on my muesli and fruit and poured a little bit of maple syrup over my French toast. “One day…” I let my voice trail off.

“Hey, so I wanted to talk to you about something important,” he began. Suddenly I had a comical thought about him luring me up to his Giving Tree to tell me the world knew about my dirty laundry.

I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for my reaction and Michael’s cluelessness.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, spooning some of my breakfast in my mouth.

“I was about to fall asleep last night and something struck me. And it’s totally my fault…”

“Yes….?” I prompted him mid-chew, thinking that I was about to hear something that would upset me.

“We didn’t use protection and I thought maybe you….”

Shit.

“I didn’t think-“ I stopped, dropping my spoon, “shit, Michael!”

“I know; it’s my fault. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was prepared in just about every other way—I’m really sorry.”

I thought it was kind of him to truly believe it was all on him—but it wasn’t. It was just as much my responsibility. “I’m sorry too….” I murmured, “shit.”

“I don’t know how you feel about this, but I can get Carsen to go to the pharmacy and get a pill or something for you—“

I wasn’t sure why, but I felt my stomach clench up. I was almost offended by the thought of Michael considering a baby to be a complication that he was only too happy to get rid of, when he was so willing to father children to Diane who never really loved him.

However; I didn’t want to be pregnant. I loved my niece with all of my heart and I even had love for Samuel’s two children, but I wasn’t ready to be a mother nor was I sure I’d ever be.

Still, I felt a pang of hurt.

I realised Michael’s words were still hanging; suspended in the air, eagerly awaiting a response from me.

“Sure…” I let my voice trail off. “Let’s do that.”

“Okay?” he asked, looking at me to make sure I was truly okay with it.

I wasn’t. I felt conflicted and I wasn’t even sure if it was fair to be hurt because having a child was something I definitely didn’t want.

“Yeah.”

I shovelled more muesli in to my mouth and listened to what sounded like the deafening crunches of my food. I was aware that he probably noticed the instant shift in my mood, but I didn’t really care.

All I could think of was Diane and how he would have been willing to turn back time and agree to having another baby with her. He had admitted, that had she continued to press him, he would have agreed and truly believed it might have changed the circumstances he was facing.

He had shared that he wanted a family with her; how hurt he’d been when she wasn’t as thrilled by the pregnancy as he was.

And now, the idea of having a child with me revolted him so much that he couldn’t wait to hit the panic button and send one of his yes-men to get a potent pill to dissolve any possibility of life that may have lived inside of me

The night of intimacy we shared felt like it meant nothing. He had allowed me to place every tiny shred of my trust in him.

It almost took it all away.

“Mal, are you okay? We don’t have to do that.”

Another mouthful.

I tried to recall how Raia had instructed me to deal with communication issues. She advised me to never respond in an accusatory way, but to rather speak my mind and allow him to share his point of view.

When we are emotional, we often hear what we want to hear and take meaning away from words that is not necessarily the intention of the person speaking them.

“It’s fine, get Carsen to get me the morning-after pill for the mistake you made last night,” I replied in monotone, ironically the kind of way that someone might ask their partner to add a food item to the shopping list. As if I couldn’t have given one tiny shit about any of it.

“No,” he said quickly, seeming hurt. I heard the scrape of his chair scooting closer. “That’s not what I said, my heart. None of it was a mistake.”

“But having a baby with me would be.”

He fell silent. I felt as though I was being unfair, but I couldn’t help it. What I spoke was the truth. A baby together at this time would have been a mistake, but hearing the words was hurtful to us both.

“Well—?” I pressed, “am I right?” when he didn’t answer straight away, I answered for him, “I’m the least responsible person you know, I’m a fucking disaster, having a child with me would be crazy.”

“Wait,” he stopped me, holding his hand up, halting me, “where on earth is all this coming from? You don’t get to project your own feelings about yourself on to me, Malania, that is not at all what I said.”

It was strange how I managed to become emotionally triggered by the dumbest things. I hadn’t been triggered by Michael’s actions earlier in the month. I hadn’t even been triggered when my family broke the news about Samuel. I’d not even been particularly triggered when he initially slid his penis in to me a little too excitedly, using a force that surprised me and even hurt a little.

The idea that I’d basically let down every little piece of my guard to the man that I loved and came to the realisation that both of us acted irresponsibly seemed to overwhelm me instantly. I’d gone from feeling relaxed, calm and content to anxious, angry, hurt and… panicky.

I was questioning everything.

I reminded myself to breathe.

“Malania?” he pressed, I’d tuned him out for the moment, withdrawing from the conversation and focusing on the panicked thoughts that became so loud.

“I can’t-“ I told him bluntly. I got up and left the table and found my way to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I didn’t want to lose my cool. I didn’t want to say stupid things. I didn’t want him to think I was crazy.

I just wanted a moment to try to quiet the thoughts and the urges. I needed the moment to assure myself that he wasn’t trying to be hurtful, that he was trying to protect me.

I heard him knocking on the door asking me to open it. I pulled the lid of the toilet seat down and sat on top of it. I buried my face in my hands for a moment and concentrated on breathing.

Maybe the anxiety had been brewing in the back of my brain from our sexual encounter. Maybe it was waiting for just the right moment to take me by surprise and fuck up my squeaky-clean track record since I’d left treatment.

“Malania, open the door – don’t run away from me.”

“Just give me a few minutes—“ I called back with irate.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he insisted, “can you please come out or unlock the door?”

I didn’t answer. I knew what he was thinking. I eyed the bag that kept all of my toiletries. Michael had thrown a few of his own things in there; a toothbrush, his comb, a little bottle of cologne and his shaver.

The bag was unzipped; its contents were half spilled over the vanity. It was a mess that I’d left from brushing my teeth. I eyed off the razor, becoming transfixed on it for a moment. It really seemed appealing.

I went back and forth for a few moments. The urge engulfed me entirely. I wanted to pick it up and press it in to my skin. I wanted to make myself bleed so the anxiety and the pressure that I felt coursing through my veins could be expelled.

I almost committed to the idea. Standing up, I took a shaky step toward the basin. It had been almost one month since I’d left treatment. It had been a little over two months since my last successful cut. It would have been easy. Michael would have forgiven me. I would have admitted it to Raia and she would have agreed that it was the wrong thing to do, but would have understood.

I took a deep breath and began to count from 1 to 10. When I concentrated on counting from 10 back to 1, I made a decision.

I unlocked the door and threw it open.

Michael stood against it and nearly barrelled in on top of me. “Thank God…” he murmured.

I knew he had assumed that I was cutting or something. The first thing he did was inspect the bathroom behind me. “Malania, talk to me – why are you so upset? I told you, we don’t have to get Carsen to do anything.”

“I don’t want a baby.” I blurted out, tears filling my eyes.

He took me in his arms and held me for a moment. “That’s okay, I don’t expect you to want to carry my child when we’ve barely experienced each other…”

I pulled away and wiped my eyes. “I bet you never asked Diane to take a pill the next day,” I said quietly. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings and I didn’t want to end up in a big fight, but if I didn’t tell him why I was so thrown by what he’d said, he would have started to think that I was incredibly high maintenance and that I couldn’t handle anything but perfect, good news.

He clapped his hand over his forehead as if it had dawned on him why I’d been so reactive. “Goodness, Mal, seriously?”

I said nothing. I sat on the foot of our bed, hugging myself self-consciously.

“I never asked Diane to take a pill because she was probably already taking birth control anyway. I was in an established relationship with her – we already had one kid and my career was great, there was no overhanging possibility that I would go to jail for being a paedophile.”

Both of us hated to say those words out loud. It made us both recoil slightly. A surreal thought, but not an entirely unrealistic one.

When I didn’t say anything he came to my side and sat by me putting an arm around me. “And Mal, I know you don’t want to be anyone’s mother at this point. You are still figuring out what you want and understanding how to take care of yourself emotionally – I would never ever want to jeopardise your healing – or even my own.”

I used my palms to wipe my eyes. “What if I were normal?”

He chuckled and kissed my temple. “You are normal; but even if you felt totally healthy, I still have this circumstance. I wouldn’t do that to you. Imagine if you had a baby and I had to go to prison? I would miss that child’s life… I couldn’t live with that.”

“Its unlikely that I’d be pregnant just from sleeping with you.” I murmured, feeling a little defeated.

“Dunno, sweetheart, I got those famous Jackson swimmers – you know my family is incredibly fertile,” he joked, making things a little more light-hearted. I felt him give me a slight nudge.

I was able to chuckle weakly. It was true, his brothers looked at women and they were suddenly with child.

“If the situation was different – and we didn’t just sleep together for the first time, if we were both at a good place, I’d never dare suggest that we prevent ourselves from having a child. Jeez Mal, trust me, I don’t feel good about the suggestion… but I love you too much to do any of this to you.”

“Okay.” I agreed. “Let’s get the pill.”

“Are you sure? I am not pushing you in to anything, it’s entirely your decision, Mal, and I’ll go along with whatever you feel comfortable with.” I knew he was scared of me freaking out again.

“Yes, I’m sure. Get the pill,” I replied firmly. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

I knew my tone was still a little icy, but I was on the other end of what could have been a giant melt down for reasons that still didn’t make a lot of sense to either of us.

“Can you please come back and finish your breakfast? I’m sorry that I upset you.”

Reluctantly, I got up. I didn’t want to eat anything anymore. I drew in a deep breath and made my way out to the balcony. It did cross my mind briefly that it was my fault that his eggs would have been cold, but he didn’t seem too bothered over it.

**

After breakfast, Michael suggested that we go swimming again, but I didn’t feel like it. I wanted to go back to bed. I wanted to just bury my head in to my pillows and cry.

There was always plenty of room at Neverland. I could always leave Michael to do my own thing, but having my own space meant that if I were to go home, he wouldn’t just be able to walk down the hall and interrupt me while I was heading in to a few days of a dark place. Sometimes I did want to truly be alone. He found it hard to understand and felt as though I just needed to talk about it and then I’d feel better. He saw it as me shutting him out, but really I just needed time to feel how I wanted to feel and organise my thoughts and emotions.

Usually I was fine immediately after and missed him and wanted to be around him.

I was glad that the escrow was finally closing on the property that Kaito was buying for us. It was going to be a hectic week; moving out of Michael’s and in to my own place while the first few days of court were happening, but Kaito promised we’d manage.

I couldn’t wait to have my own room and my own space. Maybe it was just my upset talking, but I wouldn’t have felt bad about spending the day in bed while I was weepy.

Michael announced he was having a shower. I climbed back in to bed and squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block any of my emotions. All I wanted to do was cry.

He came back out and found me in bed. He seemed disappointed. I knew he was trying not to make a big deal out of what had happened at breakfast and was hoping we could leave my dark mood behind, but it wasn’t happening.

He dropped the towel from around himself and pulled on a pair of underwear. He sat down on the bed beside me and put an arm around me. “My heart… please don’t let this overshadow everything. I love you so much and I’m so sorry that I didn’t think last night. I got caught up in trying to do everything I could to put you at ease that I forgot everything else.”

I felt a pang of guilt. I knew it wasn’t entirely his responsibility.

He snuggled in to me from behind, holding me a little tighter. He kissed the back of my neck.

“Its as much my fault as yours,” I replied.

I rolled over to face him. I saw how sorry he was. His chocolate eyes studied me with concern. I felt bad for my thoughts about wanting to be alone when all he had been doing was trying to save my feelings.

I loved touching the smooth, honey skin of his face. I reached up and cupped his cheek in my hand. I felt bad for doubting that he loved me as much as he had, Diane.

“Can I ask something incredibly annoying?” I asked, a tiny smile, finding its way to my lips. I knew no matter how dumb and annoying my question, Michael would oblige me and assure me.

“Yes…” he smiled a little amused.

“You say you love me…” my voice trailed off.

“I love you,” he repeated with a nod of acknowledgement. The smile on his pale pink lips seemed to widen.

“How much do you love me?” I asked, realising how juvenile I was being.

He laughed lightly. “You want me to measure my love? Or do you want me to compare my love that I have for you, to the love that I had for anyone else in my past?”

I almost laughed at how well he had become at reading me. I averted my eyes from his for a second and I knew he had found out my answer.

“Are you doubting my love for you?” he asked, using his pointer to guide my chin upward so I would look at it him again.

“No…” I sighed, “I just freaked out earlier—you had a whole lifetime with someone else.”

“No I didn’t,” he smiled at me, “I have a past with someone else. I loved her, but what I loved more was her child and what I loved about having her and her child in my life was a sense of belonging finally. I loved the idea of having a family—the notion of having a wife to come home to, a child who adored me and maybe another on the way,” he explained. “I didn’t love how cruel she was to me at times; how she ignored her daughter at times or how she refused to ever truly love me back.”

He was so patient with me. I knew if the situation was reversed, I would have been frustrated and annoyed with him.

“But then why did the idea of having a family with me freak you out so much?”

He gave me a funny look. “Sweetheart,” he began, almost irritated. “the circumstance that is surrounding me is freaking me out. The idea of going to prison and leaving my girlfriend behind is freaking me out. The idea of you not coping very well with me going to prison freaks me out. The idea of not going to jail and becoming a Dad and having a child to someone who I truly believe would be an incredible mother does not freak me out.”

When I didn’t say anything he leaned in and kissed my lips. “I mean it. I know you’re not ready, but eventually I’d hope you would be and I hope when that happens we’ll be happily married and we’ll have been able to go to Japan together like we talked about, that we’d see the world – and even get in a trip to the supermarket without much bother…”

I found myself smiling, feeling the good kind of butterflies filling my tummy at the thought of a long-term future with him.

He kissed me again. “My love for you is measured against everything I’ve ever felt in my life. Happiness is just a mood, Mal, but being content and being joyful with you is how I feel. You don’t ever need to worry about Diane.”

I felt a wave of relief bucket over me. “She doesn’t have shit on you…” he winked.

“Okay,” I whispered, pressing my lips against his again.

“Now I know that I just had a shower, but let’s totally throw caution to the wind. Put on your bathing suit, I am taking you to the beach in broad daylight.”

I laughed. “Are you kidding? What if someone sees you?”

He shrugged. “I’ll get Carsen to take us to a quiet part. If it gets too crazy we’ll leave. But I wanna do something fun; something normal.”

 

“Okay,” I grinned. “Let’s do it.”

End Notes:

Reviews pls! :)

Chapter 68 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

I want to apologise for leaving this story hanging. There have been a lot of things going on in my life over the past 12 months and especially in the past 6 months that left me unable or unwilling to write. 

If you read my "blog" style posts you'll have known what was going on in my life and at times its really hard to be able to focus on anything that isn't my family and what we're going through. Getting through day-to-day is hard enough. 

In saying all that, I wanted to post something for the anniversary, so I wrote this chapter and maybe it'll fuel a need to continue on. Hope you all enjoy.... 

Chapter 68


I wasn’t entirely sure when my re-found confidence was going to end, but I was enjoying the terrifying high of it for the time being.

Malania and I ignored the desperate attempts from Carsen and the other two suits to get us out of the surf. Maybe it was the sex or maybe I was so good at pretending that I was fine that I fooled myself as well.

There were a lot of paparazzis out and about and their presence seemed only to grow in volume the longer that we stayed.

We both did a good job of pretending that they weren’t there. I think it was a little game we both played, sharing mischievous grins as though we were both incredibly aware of how much we were frustrating them by not answering the questions some of them shouted at us from afar.

“We need to leave, Mr. Jackson!” Carsen hissed at me, standing on the wet sand in his patent leather black shoes, avoiding the ocean lapping by his feet.

“Mal!” I shouted to her, standing a few feet from Carsen, “You ready to go?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think she’s ready yet.” I replied to my guard without giving her a chance to speak. Carsen wasn’t happy. I knew he was going to give it to me at the next chance he got to speak with me alone. I knew I was making his job harder, but I was so fed up with not being able to have a normal life.

And who knew? Maybe this would be the very last chance I got at freedom.

“I’m going to have to call for back up…”

“Man, I just want to have fun with my girl… Gimme a few more minutes…” I caved.

It was in my best interests to keep Malania safe too, I didn’t want her to get caught up in the crowd of paps.

Carsen seemed to accept my bargain and watched me wade over to my girlfriend who was waist deep in the water. “We should probably go…” she murmured when I reached her.

I wrapped my arms around her and smiled, “yeah, it’s starting to get a little crazy, I’m sorry.” Her hair was wet and her body was glistening with water and she looked crazy beautiful. I could barely keep my hands off her. I pressed my lips against hers as her hands found mine.

“Mr Jackson, shouldn’t you be preparing for your case?” a man with a camera asked. He had no regard for his brown slacks and sandshoes as he made his way in to the water.

Malania and I were headed for the sand, ready to find our towels to leave. “Don’t you think that people want to know you’re taking this seriously?” he pressed us.

“The charges are a joke,” I replied back, “why should I take them seriously?”

My response seemed to make all of the paps lose their shit. They all broke the invisible barrier that kept them away and almost respectful of our space.

They all began firing questions and remarks at us, trying to make us bite. I made the decision not to say another word, but something managed to trigger my anger.

“Your woman’s got a bangin’ body, Mike, good going!”

I had an arm around Malania. On one hand he was right, she did have a banging body, but she was my woman and I didn’t like that anyone ogling her let alone objectifying her right under her own nose. I felt her almost recoil and I knew the comment bothered her.

I immediately reached for the towel that Carsen was holding out for me. I draped it over her shoulders. “Say what you want to me, but don’t you disrespect my girlfriend.”

“Michael, it’s okay,” she said softly, but I knew that it wasn’t.

There was always some asshole just waiting to piss on the parade. I pulled a towel around myself and let Carsen and the other two guards make a small shield around us.

By the time we made it back to the SUV, quite a crowd had gathered and I waited with baited breath for one of them to start tearing shreds off of me.

“Are you okay?” I asked, turning to Malania once we were on the road.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?” she asked. We were both still wet with our towels draped over us, sand dusting the floor of the car and the seats we were on. She had a tiny bit of sand on the bridge of her nose. I smiled and reached over, brushing it off with the bend of my forefingers. “I’m okay.”

“Boss, your check out time is at midday, we’ll drop you off and pick you up after we’ve finalized your accommodation.”

“Thanks Carsen,” I called to the front and regarded him with appreciation for not telling me off or allowing me to know that he was bothered by our very public appearance at the beach.

**

I dropped my towel when we closed the door of our villa behind us. Malania had thrown a t-shirt on over the top of her black bikini.

I followed her upstairs where she began to open the bag that we shared all of our belongings. She started folding up her clothes and placing them carefully in to the bag before working on mine.

“Hey, we still have like an hour and a half-“ I told her, “what’s the rush?”

She looked up at me, her serious expression softened. “I just don’t want us to leave anything behind.”

“I don’t mind, if we clean up now we don’t have to do it five minutes before we leave.”

Her hair was still slightly damp and a little frizzy from the sea. She had tied it up in a top knot and roamed the room, making sure to pick up anything that had been discarded the night before.

“Did you have fun at the beach?” I asked her, knowing that she cleaned as a means of dealing when she felt a little stressed.

“Yes,” she answered. I made my way to the side of the bed that was closest to the bathroom where she stood. “Come on, relax – what’s up?”

“Nothing,” she smiled and I felt for a moment that maybe she was telling the truth.

“You’re okay with everything that we talked about this morning and taking that pill and you’re okay with swimming openly at the beach while people stood around and gawked and took photos and totally okay with some creep making a comment about how hot you are?”

She chuckled, “Well… when you put it like that, it seems as though we’ve had a really jam-packed morning.”

I shrugged, “Just a regular morning of my crazy life.”

She nudged me in the gut, “Hopefully not all of our morning was a regularity in your life.”

“I mean – no, not all the parts.”

“I’m sincerely okay,” she replied, letting me distract her from picking up the room. I kissed her lips and encircled my arms around her neck.

“Good, because I need us to be okay. I need you and I to be solid as we move through this first week cos I have a feeling this next week will probably be the hardest part—you know, getting used to having to appear in court.”

“Baby, you and I are solid,” she told me with certainty as she held my gaze. “That’s probably the only thing I’m sure about right now.”

The confidence in her words gave me some comfort. I didn’t want us to have any problems. I wasn’t sure I had the energy for it.

I kissed her again and let myself fall back on the bed, pulling her closer to the space between my legs. I tilted my head up, gauging her reaction to see if she really just wanted me to leave her alone.

“Michael, you’re going to make the bedding damp,” she warned me with a playful roll of her eyes. “Come on, get up…”

“I’m sure housekeeping can manage it,” I shrugged, “I’m not totally done hanging out.”

I wasn’t sure if she was aware that I was attempting to make a move on her again. I still felt guilty over the events that transpired in the morning; I almost wanted a do-over where I wouldn’t have to get my guys to procure a pill that would end a life before it had the chance to begin.

A little part of me still felt sick about it despite the fact that I managed to push the niggling feeling aside.

I let it go; maybe she was still bothered too and if she was, I could understand. I didn’t feel as though she was angry with me still, but perhaps the new experience had been marred by the early morning aftermath.

I decided to get up and help. She probably would have grown frustrated with me leaving mess after myself. I picked up the bathroom, throwing the used towels in to the bathing area as requested by housekeeping and then I began to put away our belongings.

“Michael… can I ask you something?”

I looked up and found her leaning against the doorway, her head against the frame and arms folded a little insecurely against her. She was still wearing a the white tee over her bikini. The dampness of the bikini made it a little transparent in her chest area.

I tried not to focus on her chest or her bare legs where she had discarded the towel from when we came back in.

“You just did,” I replied cheekily.

She gave me a brief smile that told me she was a little serious.

I dropped my smile and gave her that seriousness she was looking for, “Sure, sweetheart, you can ask me anything.” I stood by the basin waiting for it.

“Just for my own sanity,” she began, “if the situation was different – if you weren’t starting this trial – if I was in a more stable mind frame – say, down the track a little…”

I knew what was coming. She wanted assurance. I waited for her to finish.

“Would you have rushed out as quickly to make someone get me a pill?” she asked.

“No,” I smiled a little sadly. I hated that she felt she had to ask. I hated that she made it seem like I had panicked. She had panicked too. I saw the anxiety instantly fill her up when she considered the idea of a child of her very own.

She was not ready and despite how much I loved children, I didn’t particularly think that I was either.

“Do you really feel like I did that? That I did such a stereotypical male thing? That I did it so lightly with only my own selfish intentions?” I asked.

She shook her head, “No, I don’t Michael, I guess I just…”

The problem that I sometimes found with Malania is that when she mind was idle, her anxieties found their way inside of her. When we kept busy together, she was light and happy. At the beach when we arrived, we built sand castles in the damp sand. We engraved our names cheesily in to it and watched the water wash it away. We swam together and splashed each other and laughed and joked at the paparazzi.

Now that it was over, she had been given too much time to think.

“You want me to tell you that if in another time down the track this were to happen, that I’d freely accept any outcome?” I pressed her. I wanted to verbalise her feelings for her because I knew that sometimes she found it hard to communicate what she wanted from me.

“I guess so…”

I shoved my travel bottle of cologne in to my travel bag and zipped it up, picking up hers too. I made my way over to her and gave her another smile. “I’d hope that I wouldn’t make such a dumb mistake again, but if I did, I would freely accept any outcome – pregnant, not pregnant, becoming a parent—whatever, sure.”

“You keep calling it a mistake…” she moved out of the way for me and watched me put the two travel bags in to the open suitcase.

I turned back to her. “I love you,” I told her, “maybe I’m not using all the right words—but what I mean is, is that when our relationship is able to take on a more normal course, spending more time together, traveling together, when we both get our jobs back on track and when I decide to marry you, I’d prefer that we plan a family or together decide, ‘hey let’s start having kids’. I would never refer to any child I have as a mistake, Mal, but I think it would be a mistake to not enjoy us and have time as just us before we start throwing ourselves in to being a family. We both have so many things we want to do together….”

I was glad to see her smiling.

“Thanks…” she murmured, “That’s what I needed to hear.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t explain myself better… I know you think you suck at communicating—sometimes I’m not great at it either.”

I zipped up the suitcase.

“No, I’m oversensitive today… probably just everything… you know?”

I nodded. I knew. Sometimes dark moments enshrouded both of us when we reality visited us.

I reached out for her hand and waited for her to extend hers. I pulled her closer to me. “I love you…” I repeated again, smoothing my hands over her hair that was beginning to dry.

“I love you too.” I let her make the first move to kiss me this time. “I might go shower and get all that sand out of my hair,” she suggested.

“Alright, I’ll finish up getting everything together, do you need anything from your travel bag?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

I watched her head in to the bathroom as I moved our bag downstairs, leaving the jeans that she wanted to wear on the bed.

After everything was sorted, I made my way back upstairs and glanced out of the balcony window thinking over the night before having accepted that it just could have been my last night of freedom.

I almost felt nauseous as the thought hit me.

I wondered how Casey was faring, how things were for her health-wise. I wondered about Diane and whether or not there was any part of her that had remorse for what she was doing to me.

“Michael?” I heard Malania call me. The bathroom door remained ajar.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” I called back, breaking from my reverie.

“Can you come here…” I opened the door slightly, giving her privacy. Even though we’d made love the night before, I knew better than to overwhelm her by expecting her to be immediately okay with me seeing her naked.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Can you…” her voice sounded soft and almost too shy to continue with her request.

“Can I…?”

“Do you want to come in here and… hold me?”

I felt a smile spread across my lips. Of course wanted to get in to the shower naked with my girlfriend. I was a hot-blooded man. It had taken us so long to get to the part where I got to comfortably enjoy being vulnerable with her and I was aware that I still had to show patience.

She didn’t need to ask me again or explain herself further. I lost my own t shirt and my trunks and opened the shower recess and let myself in. I gave myself a moment to savor her. She had her back facing me and I found myself staring; admiring.

“Are you doing okay?” I asked her, resting both of my hands upon her bare hips as I inched closer to her. I let the warm water run over my body and watched goosebumps rise to the surface of hers from my touch.

“Yeah, I’m fine… I just wanted to be close to you again.”

She turned around, slipping her arms around me. I smiled at her and pushed her hair from her face. She still managed to conceal her nudity from me by pressing her body against me.

“Well that’s totally fine by me.” I kissed her forehead.

“I didn’t say it this morning, but I had a good time last night…”

“Yeah?” I grinned at her, “You think that you’d be up to do it again with me one day?”

She giggled, “maybe one day…”

“What if I promised that the next time you partake in such activities with me, I will make sure you’ll feel things you’ve never felt before…” I continued to tease her running my fingers over the bare skin of her shoulders.

“Really?” she averted her eyes up to mine briefly. Her cheeks were a little flushed.

I may have been shy myself, but I knew what I wanted when it came to the girl that I loved. I wasn’t shy about my own performance. I knew I was good and I knew how to make her feel good.

“Really, really…”

“Maybe I’ll be interested in seeing if you can make good on your promise later tonight…”

I kissed her lips lingeringly, “I won’t let you down…”

“Good… but maybe first you’ll organize some form of protection.”

“I will take care of that, yes ma’am.” I smirked hoping that she wouldn’t make too much of my slight erection.

“What about if Kaito comes back? What are you going to do then to make me feel such things?”

I laughed and my mood was instantly killed. “I guess we’ll wait for him to go to sleep… or we’ll take a drive to the giving tree, so I can show you how giving I can be.”

Malania finally just laughed. “Well, you just have an answer for everything—“

“Mhm,” I nodded, happy with myself.

“Come on baby, let’s hop out, by the time I finish doing my hair and getting dressed and ready to leave, it’ll be check out time.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you with it…” I kissed her again and left her in the shower to finish up.

Chapter 69 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Okay so I think I posted this, but with all the MJfiction mess ups that happened while we were transferring the site, I think the actual chapter disappeared -- so here it is again and I apologise for those of you who have already read it -- I'll have another one posted over the next few days. 

 

Chapter 69

 

I smoothed my hands over his hairless chest and gave a yawn. It was early and I was exhausted but I felt content and didn’t really want to get up or wake him earlier than he had to.

 

He had been a little quiet and moody before we’d fallen asleep. Kaito was home when we arrived back from our little getaway, but he soon realized that we wanted some space.

 

Without any question, he left us to it.

 

I wondered how Michael was going to handle his first day in court – if he was going to revert back to the scared child that I encountered the day his lawyer came to visit, or if he was going to be the confident, strong man that I knew he could be.

 

I pushed it all from my mind and enjoyed the morning time both alone with my thoughts while being physically present with him.

 

I was able to go with him to the first day of court for the opening statements, but I had a therapy appointment the following day which Michael insisted was more important than the boring details of what the prosecution was pretending to have on him.

 

“Mmm…” Michael grunted, rolling over from his back to face me. He covered my hand with his and enclosed it over mine. “Is it time to wake up?” he spoke in a low tone, one that nobody would have ever considered as his regular speaking voice.

 

It was a little bit sexy.

 

“No, sweetheart, you can sleep some more…”

 

He drew closer to me until I felt his warm naked body against mine. I felt the softness of his lips press against my forehead as he let go of my hand and ran his fingers through my hair. “I don’t want to, the longer I sleep, the closer it is ‘til court—“

 

“It’ll be okay…” my voice trailed off. I was hoping that that was the case, at least.

 

“I’m alright… just want to spend some time with my beautiful girl in private before we have to drag our heels for the rest of the day.”

 

I propped myself up on my elbow and leaned over him, “Ok, remember what we talked about last night?” I asked him.

 

He flopped back over on to his back and looked at me with a weary smile.

 

He yawned dramatically before opening his bleary-eyes and paying me attention.

 

“Yes, I’m innocent and it’s time to show everyone that I am not to be messed with,” he spoke as if he had rehearsed it a hundred times in his head.

 

I knew the nervousness of the day had made him more alert than he’d usually be waking up so early.

 

“Bingo. And the more you say it, the stronger you’ll feel.” I leaned over and pecked him on the lips.

 

“I love you, I really do…” he reached up, running his fingers through my dark hair until they settled on either side of my face.

 

He smoothed my cheeks with his thumbs. I smiled back at him. “You make me feel strong; you’re the good part.”

 

He lifted his head and met with my lips again before caressing my face. I could have lay in bed with him all day, enjoying him gazing in to my eyes.

 

“I love you…” I chuckled at the irony of my life. “Did you ever think I could evolve from that insipid, moody little bitch that used to turn up to tell you what she really thought of your concerts?”

 

Michael burst in to chuckles as well. “Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that…” he replied, “but, one of my most prominent memories of you was when Beth was busy gushing about how great I sounded, you cut in and told me that the sound was off for the second half of the set after Make Me Feel and as a result, my singing was a bit off.”

 

I cracked up, “Did I seriously say that?” I asked, my cheeks burning, “What the hell was I thinking?” I laughed, “Jeez, you probably wanted to backhand me!”

 

“No,” he grinned at me, easing himself up a little, leaning against the bedhead, “honestly, I was taken aback by how blunt you were and how you cut straight through the mess Beth was dribbling, but I was totally in awe of how you had no qualms in telling me what you really thought.”

 

“I think Beth’s blabbering mouth made me say anything I could to disagree with her or to at least even out her gushing,” I replied thoughtfully.

 

“It was refreshing—and the best part about it, baby, was that you were always right on the money. I appreciate when people say nice things to me, but I appreciate it even more when people are honest with me, you know?”

 

I eased up beside him and nodded. “Thanks for not thinking I was an arrogant and disrespectful little twerp.”

 

He smirked at me. “Thanks for not thinking I was a little bitch when I went in to meltdown mode a few weeks back – for standing by me.”

 

“Do we want to get in to a whole war of thank you’s?” I joked, “Cos I could totally win the Grammy award of that.”

 

Michael reached over and slipped his arm around me. “That’s ironic, given how many Grammys I actually have, let’s leave the awards to me, shall we?” he asked smartly.

 

I gave him a gentle nudge in the ribs.  

 

“Let’s just agree that we saved each other and now we subsequently complement one another?” he added.

 

I nodded. “You could say that…”

 

I sidled up close to him, curling my knees up and resting my head in the crook of his arm. Being in his arms was so comforting and so relaxing. I felt shielded from the outside world without it becoming too isolating.

 

I felt his free hand on the inside of my knee and couldn’t help but feel a little jolt of electricity. My mouth found his and we both knew what was going to happen.

 

The previous night he was intending to take me back to the room and make love with me, but I couldn’t. I freaked out a little bit and to his credit, he didn’t try to push anything. Instead, we lay together and talked until we both fell asleep.

 

I felt his hand slipping upward inside my thigh, his fingertips grazing my skin.

 

His tongue massaged against mine slowly and softly and always just a tiny bit teasing.

 

Before I knew it, his hands were all over me. He leaned over me, pushing me on to my back, letting his hands wander over my bare breasts while he kissed me.

 

I could tell how hard he was as he lowered himself over me, pressing in to me. It sometimes took a lot of concentration to silent my mind and allow myself to engage in the moment with him. I took a deep breath as he broke away from my lips and made his way down my chin to my collarbone.

 

I didn’t want him to think that sex was always going to be a problem for us, especially not when we’d already moved past it the first time, but I knew I’d need to make an extra effort to relax.

 

I knew he could sense my tenseness and I knew that he was doing his best to make me forget anything bad that I associated with being with him, he had tried a similar approach the night before. 

 

I closed my eyes and smoothed my hands along the bare skin of his back, shoulders, neck and in to his hair. I knew he liked it when I raked my fingers gently along his scalp.

 

Convincing me further was low groan telling me that he liked it. I tried to concentrate on making him feel good.

 

I was probably hard work for Michael, I needed him to assure me every step of the way and I was certain that he wasn’t used to it. I was certain that he was used to a lot of women in his past offering themselves to him whenever he pleased.

 

I wasn’t that girl, I needed him to tell me that it was okay. I needed him to tell me to relax. I needed constant reminding and empathy for what I’d been through.

 

I felt my thighs trembling a little as he worked his way up toward the small, thin piece of fabric covering the place between my legs that had become his destination.

 

He was pretty good at picking up the vibes from me. We had grown together so much since living under the same roof.

 

“You okay?” he asked, finally, breaking his mouth away from my skin.

 

“I think so…” my breathless voice whispered despite the fact that I wasn’t sure I was okay.

 

He lifted himself up from over me, resting back on his haunches. It was as if he finally realized I was a little uncomfortable. I crossed my arms over my chest a little self-consciously.

 

He smiled at me empathetically. “Be truthful with me, don’t say its okay if its not…”

 

I swallowed hard. “I want to be okay with this,” I bravely admitted. “I want you to be able to have me, I want to be able to be with you without all… this.”

 

“It’ll take time and practice,” he shrugged as if I wasn’t a total buzzkill. “Thankfully nothing is going to stop us from either of those things… Will it help if I told you that I love, love, love, love you…” he grinned, kissing me all over my face, causing me to laugh.

 

“Stop it!” I pushed him away with a chuckle.

 

“Well… I do…” he laughed, “and its okay if you struggle with this right now, its all a new thing… but did I hurt you the other night?”

 

I shook my head. “No, you were … the best.”

 

“I’m not going to hurt you this morning. I just want to make you feel good.” He kissed me softly on my lips, “we’ll go slow again and if you need me to stop, you can just say, Mal… I’m not going to keep going if you need me to stop, you know that, right?”

 

I nodded, even if my brain was always trying to warn me otherwise. It helped to have him say it.

 

Slowly, I unfolded my arms, deciding not to hide myself from him. He let himself fall back over on to his side. I thought he had given up trying to make love to me. He grabbed for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine and kissed the back of my hand.

 

I grabbed for his other and took a deep breath, scooting down beside him. I placed his hand on my hip. “As you were…” I murmured.

 

He smiled at me and closed the distance between us. He let his hand grab the flesh at my backside, pulling my hips against his to feel his erection pressing in to me through the cotton of our pants.

 

“See how much you turn me on?” he grinned. I nervously smiled back at him, allowing him to lift my thigh over his waist, pulling me closer. I couldn’t ignore the swelling feeling in my groin as his length slid gently along me as his hips moved involuntarily, teasing me.

 

I shut my eyes tightly. This… this was the assurance. He was entirely the good part. He kissed my lips, gently sinking his teeth in to my lowerlip playfully as he sometimes did. That on its own always seemed to have an effect on me.

 

“Do you have the …” I paused, trying to stifle a gasp as I felt his thumb brush over my nipple, “the protection?”

 

“Don’t worry yourself about that, that’s for me to worry about…” he murmured.

 

I opened my eyes and found him watching me with a little smile. “Don’t stare…” I was able to laugh, “its creepy…”

 

He laughed too. “You look hot…” he told me. I smiled despite how confronting he could sometimes be. “Let’s remove these, what do you think?”

 

His hand had snaked its way down my side to the waistband of my underwear. I assured myself that the way I was feeling could only get better, especially when he was in charge.

 

I nodded. “And yours….” I added bravely.

 

“Relax, okay?” he told me bluntly, “I love you… I’m with you.”

 

I nodded again, glad that he could read my mind.

 

I helped him out of his jocks and allowed him to help me out of my black underwear.

 

He ran his warm hands over my bare behind, caressing the skin of my outer thighs. I did a similar thing, wanting to get used to his body, exploring my way around, trying to gauge what he liked the most.

 

He jolted as though he’d been tickled the second that my fingers caressed his chest. I dragged my nails down to his stomach and heard him gasp. “Good?” I asked him.

 

“Yes…” he clutched my hand in his, stopping me, “too good.”

 

I laughed.

 

“I wonder if it feels as good as…” he slowly moved his hand between my legs. My eyes fell shut as I felt him sink slightly in to my warmth, “this does…”

 

A groan of pleasure escaped my throat involuntarily.

 

I nodded, “that’s okay….” My voice was trembling and we both knew it was more than okay. I stifled a laugh as his hand lay stationary, “I guess…” I added cheekily.

 

Michael gasped with mock-offence, “Oh really? Just okay?”

 

“Yeah, it’s alright…” I continued, feeling tenseness start to dissipate.

 

I dared to reach down to his hard member. I ran my hand along his length slowly and garnered almost the same reaction from him as I had given him.

 

“Fuck…” he cursed, “don’t do that just yet…” he warned me, “I’m not done here…”

 

He kissed me firmly, pressing his mouth hard against mine. He gently pushed me on to my back and propped himself up on his arm, kissing me and caressing the insides of my thighs, teasing me with his fingertips dancing all over my skin and in every other place but where it began to ache for him.

 

“Stop…” I told him, speaking against his mouth, “teasing me…”

 

He had stopped instantly, thinking that I needed him to pull the plug on everything. He chuckled and kissed me again, let his hand go back to work, enjoying the fact that I was writhing beneath him.

 

I’d had enough, I grabbed for his hand, surprising him and showed him exactly where I wanted it to go. I knew he was shocked but I was sure that my initiative was welcomed.

 

“You’re very impatient, you know?” he told me between kisses, laying his hand stationary between my legs.

 

“Yes, I am…” I retorted, “don’t play this game with me…”

 

“What?” he broke the kiss entirely; his face hovered over mine. “I’m touching you, that’s what you wanted?”

 

I struggled to be more direct to tell him exactly what it was that I wanted him to do. I wasn’t ready for that, but I suspected that was what he was trying to get from me. “Michael…” I urged him, looking at him pleadingly.

 

He took the hint and kissed my cheek and then my neck, shoulder then down to my collarbone. I felt him slip inside of me, exploring my warmth. “Yeah? Is this what you want?” he asked.

 

I nodded.

 

He went back to work, massaging his tongue against my skin as he kissed his way down to my chest as his fingers explored me, causing my arousal to build. I closed my eyes. I let out a moan as all of my fears seemed to quickly get shuffled to the back of my brain. I could barely focus on much else besides the moment and how good he made me feel.

 

He found the spot that made my hips buck involuntarily. “I’m going to make you feel so good,” he whispered in to my ear, kissing my earlobe, letting his words reverberate against me. “Just go with it…”

 

Every time I felt my body tensing up, I made myself relax again which seemed to make everything feel almost overwhelming.

 

I reached down for his penis again, feeling his length and enjoying his reaction to my touch. He didn’t let me continue for too long. He told me that he wanted me and that was okay with me, because I longed for him too.

 

As if he’d been storing them his whole life, he helped himself to the protection that was inside his bedside drawer. For a few moments he fussed with it. I figured that I should help, but I was pretty useless. He didn’t seem at all bothered by my lack of help.

 

He simply straddled me and lowered himself over me. I anticipated him burying himself inside me. I loved that feeling, the tension as I waited. He became suddenly so intimate and intense. His eyes gazed in to mine. He smiled briefly before kissing my lips.

 

“Ready?” he asked between kisses.

 

“Yes…”

 

I felt him entering me slowly. I let my eyes fall shut. He had figured out pretty quickly how to read how I was feeling.

 

He moved inside of me slowly. I knew there was always music playing in his head and his body moved with so much rhythm that sometimes I found hard to keep up with.

 

He caressed my hair as he recaptured our kiss.

 

I felt him pushing himself further inside causing my back to arch. I crushed my hips against his, feeling him pulling me back in to rhythm with him. I wasn’t a bad dancer, but I was still finding my feet when it came to this kind of dance.

 

“Sorry…” I murmured.

 

“I love you,” he spoke softly, holding my gaze for a moment. I remembered the moment we met on a person-to-person basis when his stare felt disarming.

 

“I love you,” I repeated, “I really, really love you…”

 

We shared a smile. He picked up some pace and moved with a little bit of urgency—I always wondered how it would feel to be loved by a man so unconditionally. I had to admit, it felt like no other thing I’d ever imagined especially in the present moment when I felt like everything made sense and that nothing outside of the walls of our relationship was complicated.

 

I felt a dull warmth swelling inside of me as he repeatedly hit a spot within me that jolted a sensation throughout my body that made me tingle all over.

 

“Shit…” I muttered under my breath.

 

“Relax,” he commanded me, “let go… enjoy it…”

 

I knew he could feel me tensing around him. He repeatedly told me how good it felt.

 

I was surprised when I realized he was about to come. He tried to spur me on, reaching down between my legs and doubling the pleasure. I was aware that I was being a little vocal, but it seemed only to spur him on. It certainly worked; the feeling that had just began building, seemed to consume me completely.

 

I lost my senses for a moment as the orgasm took over me. My body bucked involuntarily beneath him. In turn, I felt his body shudder above me. He tensed up and buried himself as deep as he could, clutching me close, crushing my hips against his and thrusting as he finished.

 

He withdrew from me and collapsed next to me. He barely broke a sweat and he didn’t seem to be particularly exhausted. Not the way that I was. My body was still acting like an electric current was passing through it; my thighs twitched where he had just been. He caressed my bare skin as he waited patiently for me to calm down.

 

He leaned over and kissed my cheek. He kissed me again and sat up. “I’ll be back…”

 

He made off in to the bathroom for a moment.

 

He returned, completely naked, standing before me like he never had a sense of insecurity in his life; I loved it.

 

“Sorry I didn’t last very long…” he apologized as he lifted the covers snuggled up to me.

 

“What?” I laughed, “what are you talking about?”

 

“Just… for future reference, I’m never at my best first thing in the morning… late at night, that’s where the good action is at…” he told me with an impish grin.

 

I backhanded him lightly in the chest. “Well, morning… night… I have no complaints. I’ll get better at it, I hope, since we’re sharing insecurities-“

 

He seemed to take me a little bit seriously. “What? Mal, you’re not bad at it…” he shook his head. I rolled my eyes at his instant need to always make me feel like I had no faults.

 

“No, but I mean… you’re good… do you know that?” I laughed, “I mean, you’re really good at this and granted I don’t have much to compare with, but I can’t imagine many people can move their hips like you can…”

 

I could tell that I was embarrassing him. He covered his face as his cheeks burned. “Stop…”

 

“Stop?” I laughed, “I’m telling you, Michael, you’re a friggin’ stud.”

 

He joined me laughing. “Well my heart, I’m pretty sure as time goes on, you’ll get more confidence in the bedroom – and when that happens, it’s on…” he told me, flicking his eyebrows which gave me a shiver.

 

I grinned at him and kissed him. “You bet…” I murmured.

 

“Well, since we’ve both started the day out correctly, why don’t we get up, take a shower and I’ll call for someone to come and make us some breakfast while we get ready.”

 

“No, no… I’ll make breakfast,” I protested.

 

“No way – I want to see you looking as smoking hot as you did the day of the arraignment; goodness me, I don’t even know how I managed to keep my hands off of you that day,” he told me, smoothing my hair.

 

“Yeah, and let’s be honest it took a long time to turn myself in to that, I’ll probably need the extra time.”

 

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at me. “Shut up… you look stunning any day of the week… but-“

 

“Relax,” I cut him off, pinching his chin before I kissed him, “I’m just kidding, I know what you meant.”

 

The truth was, I pulled off the snooty, rich girl look quite well. It didn’t suit my personality, but I could look the part for Michael in public if he needed. I was at least confident about that.

 

**

 

Michael and I both showered together and then we ate breakfast at the end of the bed from a silver tray. It was a lifestyle that would have been easy to get used to, but I wasn’t about to allow myself that indulgence.

 

I laid a red and white dress out, trying to decide which one I wanted to wear.

 

I stood in my underwear and sighed, trying to pick. Since I had exactly two dresses to wear out and they were both black; I ordered two dresses from a catalogue that Michael gave me and insisted on paying for.

 

“Wear the Chanel one…” Michael nodded toward the dress as he walked past me, pulling a white tank over his head. He had grown nervous, I could tell. He paced around picking things up and putting things down and losing his train of thought.

 

“Thanks,” I told him gratefully as I picked up the white, body con dress. I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat all day for fear of spilling anything on it, but I would probably be too nervous for Michael to want to swallow any food throughout the day.

 

I carefully applied my make up and pulled my hair tightly back off of my face and twisted it in to a bun, high upon my scalp. I glanced at myself in the mirror as I secured it all in place with a bunch of hairpins. I started to resemble a person who had their shit at least a little bit together and honestly, since it would be my first time officially in public with him since my hospital stay, I needed to look as well-held together as I could.

 

I took the dress and started to pull it on. Michael came up behind me and zipped me up. “You look beautiful,” he remarked as I smoothed the dress down in front of the mirror and stared at myself, wondering if white was he right option.

 

He was half-dressed. He had a pair of white trousers on which I had turned my nose up at interiorly the night before when he showed me what he intended on wearing. However, now that they were on him, I saw that he looked great in white. His matching white shirt hung open.

 

“Thanks Michael, how are you feeling?” I asked him, turning to face him. I began to button his shirt up for him.

 

“I’m okay, nervous, but I’m okay.”

 

“I’m nervous too. I hope having me there isn’t going to hurt you…” I murmured, “with everything that’s happened to me-“

 

Michael smiled at me, “No,” he smoothed the shoulders of my dress, “you’re the perfect kind of normal that balances me out. I will be so proud to walk in to court today holding your hand. If I’m feeling so nervous that I want to barf up my guts, I’ll have your hand to squeeze.”

 

I chuckled, “I’ll loan you my handbag to barf in to.”

 

“See?” he laughed, “no other girl I know would sacrifice a handbag for barf. You’re the best…”

 

I kissed him lingeringly. “Remember, you’re strong – and most important of all, you’re innocent and no one will never mess with you again after this is resolved.”

 

He nodded. “Thank you.”


He reluctantly let go of me and took a deep breath, “I chose white because I thought it kind of goes with the whole angelic, innocent theme…”

 

I laughed at his cheesiness even though I knew he was serious.

 

“Okay baby, you finish up getting ready. I’m going to find some shoes and my suit jacket and go downstairs to have a chat with Greg.

 

“Alright, I won’t be long…” I promised.

Chapter 70 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Life is weird. I wrote this chapter some time ago, excuse me if its a little rough. Speaking of, life has been somewhat rough. I still log in here a couple times a week but with new stuff at work, dealing with losing my Mum and associated baggage and anxiety, I am struggling to focus on the upkeep of this site as its not the giant priority that it was over the past few years. I apologise for that.... anyway, please enjoy this chapter. I have half written another one, maybe i'll get it up soon. It's my hope that I can finish this at some point in the not-too-distant future. 

Chapter 70

 

It felt a little like déjà vu as Malania and I stepped out of our car. The fans waiting outside of the courthouse caused pandemonium. They cheered for my innocence so loud that we could barely hear much else.

 

I couldn’t help but to feel incredibly irate and blindsided when a car behind my parents pulled up. “Who’s that?” I asked, leaning over to speak to Greg. I suspected it was more of his legal team.

 

“Your family?” he glanced at me almost quizzically as if I should have known. Instantly, I felt heaviness in the pit of my stomach. I drew in a deep breath and tried to shoo it away. They were there for me; they wanted to support me. Surely they couldn’t have been so selfish so as to be there for their own hairball schemes.

 

I felt guilty for jumping to the worst conclusions.

 

“Mal,” I smiled through gritted teeth, “you’re about to meet members of my family. I’m apologizing in advance.”

 

Surprisingly, she chuckled. “Nothing I can’t handle, don’t worry.”

 

Despite her words, I felt her hand slip in to mine. I gave it a squeeze. I was so proud to have her with me just as I had been the first time. She looked beautiful with her hair swept right back off of her face and in to a bun. The dress I had bought for her was perfect. It accentuated all of the right areas and flattered her in every way.

 

It made me laugh to see how she was able to switch from grunge to a classic look so easily and was able to make both looks suit her so well.

 

I saw my mother get out of the car and I remembered how frustrated I’d been with her the last that I’d seen her; how rude she’d been to Malania and how I decided I wouldn’t put up with it anymore. Joseph got out too. My Dad took my mother’s hand and placed it on the inside of his elbow and together they walked slowly at her pace toward us.

 

I could see behind their car that Jermaine and Jackie were getting out of the their own. I couldn’t help but to smile to see that everyone was wearing white. Mother must have passed on the memo.

 

Well, everyone except my father, but that didn’t surprise me.

 

“Hi Mother,” I greeted her, kissing her cheek and giving my father a polite hug which was more like a pat on each other’s backs.

 

“Hi Sweetheart,” she greeted me back, she smiled tightly at Malania who, to her credit, acted genuine, as though nothing had happened between them. “Hello Malania,”

 

“Hello Mrs. Jackson, good to see you again under better circumstances.”

 

Malania leaned over as my mother hesitated to give her a hug. I knew it was awkward for them.

 

My father smirked at me as if he shared in the awkwardness of the situation. “Nice to see you again, I hear you’re taking real good care of my son,” he remarked, lifting his eyes away from her to give me a wink.

 

“Um, sure,” she smiled, “Nice to see you too Mr. Jackson.”

 

My brothers came over to us. I hadn’t seen Jackie in a long time. He smiled at me and almost bear hugged me. It was a tight, warm hug, much more genuine and sincere than my fathers. It made me realize that he was truly there to support me.

 

In my experience, some of my brothers were better than the others. Jackie was probably the kindest to me because of our age difference. He had always been the brother who would calm me down on tour, who acted as the one to enforce discipline when my father was off with another woman and nothing had really changed much except the fact that I had created distance him and I after we all went our separate ways.

 

“How you doin’ Mike?” he asked me, breaking away from me finally, “you hangin’ in there?”

 

I nodded, “Yeah, I’m good, thank you for coming, you’re looking good.”

 

He smiled, “you too, all things considered.”

 

All things; the suicide attempt, the cutting, the overdosing, the allegations – I was a fallen star, the media kept telling me so.

 

“Who’s your special lady?” he wondered, nodding to Malania who Jermaine had already honed in on. He leaned closer to my ear, “be careful…”

 

I knew he was referring to Jermaine. I reached back for Malania’s hand, “Mal,” I interrupted, “I want you to meet Jackie… my eldest brother.”

 

Malania pulled her attention from Jermaine, “Hi Jackie, nice to meet you,” She leaned forward and hugged my brother politely.

 

I waved to Jermaine, I didn’t really feel like engaging with Jermaine, I just wanted to concentrate on keeping him away from Malania. When I saw him, all I could think about was the stupidity of him telling people that I was gay so that I might be able to seem more innocent.

 

He had since revoked his stories and made out as if the press had misquoted him, but the damage was kind of already done.

 

I knew in his stupid demented mind, he was only trying to help – but I wished that my family could put their heads together and share their brain cells every now and then before speaking on behalf of me.

 

“Nice to meet you too, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he remarked as if he were implying that I had told him all about her. I hadn’t. He had probably heard a lot from my mother. I almost rolled my eyes.

 

I grabbed for Malania’s hand again as she forced a smile.

 

“C’mon, we better go in, we don’t want to be late.” Greg swooped in before anything got too awkward. I followed him and Sharon through. Despite the fact that I’d never really got along with her, Greg insisted that she was a vital part to his team. I accepted that.

 

We walked inside the courthouse and I could feel heaviness setting in; a feeling of impending doom. I was a little bit frightened about having to see Diane face-to-face again. I didn’t like her outburst at the arraignment and I didn’t want to have to encounter it again.

 

I stood with my arms out in a ‘T’ as the security checked me out with a metal detector; one-by-one he let us through, thanking us as we were checked. I waited for the guard to wave Malania over with the detector. She regarded me with a smile. She reached out for my hand.

 

We waited patiently for the rest of my family and walked in together. Mal, my family, the legal team and I filed in. I was relieved to see that Diane hadn’t arrived yet.

 

“You’ll sit here…” Greg told me, motioning to the desk in front of a divider where Malania and my family were to be left to sit. I was a little disappointed. I wanted to sit with Mal. I realized that she was also disappointed.

 

“Is Malania allowed to sit beside me too?” I asked curiously.

 

He shook his head, “Sorry Mike, just us… she’ll be right behind you,” he turned around and nodded toward the bench. “Your parents and your brothers will be right there as well, and obviously if we take a break, you can mingle with everyone,” he explained as if it were a party.

 

I drew in a deep breath slowly to help calm my nerves. We stood around awkwardly waiting for everyone to arrive. My family had already taken their seats, I still hadn’t let go of Malania. We stood to the side to allow everyone to move past us.

 

“I should probably go sit, Michael…” she murmured. We felt many pairs of eyes on us. I felt myself shaking a little; I couldn’t help being nervous.

 

“I don’t want to sit…” I whispered back. I could feel myself backing in to the wall. Suddenly the white outfits felt stupid and gimmicky – cheesy and contrived. I just took a deep breath again, trying to keep my anxiety at bay.

 

I looked around the courtroom and saw that Diane had arrived. Her eyes were lowered and she was being guided to the left side of the courtroom beside Sheldon, the prosecutor who had been spreading malicious bullshit about me in the media.

 

“I can’t breathe.” I admitted to my girlfriend who’s back was to the rest of the room. I withdrew from the rest of our surroundings and concentrated on her clear, brown eyes.

 

“Michael, take a deep breath. You’ve got this,” she whispered, “you’re going to be fine. Day-by-day, alright?” she added.

 

I nodded and did as she said. I took a deep breath. “I’m going to get through this.”

 

She smiled weakly at me and nodded, “yes we are; together.”

 

It helped; if only just a slight bit. She followed my eyes over to the prosecution benches. “Diane is here, isn’t she?” she wondered.

 

I nodded again. “I don’t want her to yell at me again.”

 

Malania shrugged. “It just makes her look more unhinged.”

 

Honestly, regardless of what was said about me and what she believed about me, I didn’t want her to be hurt. I didn’t want a future with her anymore and I was incredibly hurt by her actions, but I didn’t like to see her in pain.

 

“I love you…” I told her, changing the subject. “Thanks for being here – I didn’t have any idea my brothers were going to show up.”

 

“I love you too. Don’t apologise for your family; goodness knows, I’ve not yet apologized for mine,” she smiled.

 

I leaned forward, placing my hands upon her hips and kissed her lips gently. “Okay, Greg is motioning for me to come take a seat…” she glanced back over her shoulder and gave my lawyer a nod.

 

“You’ll do fine,” she told me, “just remember I’m right behind you; feel my energy or some shit…”

 

I managed a laugh. “Okay baby… give me a hug.”

 

She obliged me and slid her arms around me. I embraced her warmly, closing my eyes tightly, not wanting to let go. She was practically radiating her confidence in me. I needed that.

 

“Love you,” she murmured. I kissed her cheek and repeated her. I let go of her hand so that she would slip on to the bench behind the partition. My mother moved her legs so that Mal could sit right behind me where I wanted her to be.

 

**

 

Pictorial and forensic evidence, home videos and written documents would apparently be enough to prove my guilt. Oh, and witnesses who could corroborate the accusations that were made.

 

“Bring them forward,” Greg wrote on a note that he slid to me. “Don’t worry, they don’t have any witnesses that we need to be concerned with. It sounds more salacious than it really is.”

 

I managed to tune out a lot of the details. I rolled my eyes a lot and clenched my fists and felt a blinding, unfiltered rage when Sheldon, the D.A promised unflinchingly that the forensic evidence would be damning. I focused on counting to ten over and over and over just so as I could ward off the anxiety that was stirring in the pit of my gut.

 

Once the D.A had rested, Greg got up and adjusted his tie. He grabbed a file and made his way around to the front, standing before the 12 jurors that filled the benches to the right of the courtroom closest to the D.A and Diane.

 

I avoided looking at her. She was alone and there was no sign of the woman that I had assumed was her mother. I hated that she was alone and probably frightened of the entire process.

 

She’d made her own bed though and every moment that my mind weakened, I had to remind myself of that.

 

“There is no doubt in my mind that Michael—“ he said my name rather than my surname because it made me more personal, he told me, more personal and more relatable than ‘Mr. Jackson’. “that Michael is unequivocally innocent,” he paced before the jury before grabbing on to the banister that separated him from us, “in fact, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, “by the end of this trial and after you’ve seen all this alleged ‘evidence’,” he made air quotes above his head, “that the prosecution have promised, you will all agree with me.”

 

“Pictorial evidence, forensic evidence?” he threw the question out rhetorically and let it suspend in the air for a few moments and looked over to me and shrugged before turning back to the jury, “if they think they have it, then let ‘em bring it forward, let us see it because what I believe is that just like all the tabloid headlines about this case, the mere suggestion of evidence is more sensational than the actual details.”

 

He let go of the banister and walked past Diane and the D.A and stood before me at my bench. “Michael Jackson … the very name conjures up excitement, the man, I am going to admit is an enigma, he is a household name. Imagine the excitement the complainant must have felt upon receiving attention from the man himself. Imagine her relief when Mr. Jackson pursued a relationship with her!” he exclaimed.

 

I started to shrink in my seat. I didn’t think that Diane used me. I didn’t truly believe that it was her intention to seek my money – only comfort. I felt bad for playing dirty, but she was playing dirty too. Everyone told me she had been using me for money and I really lacked the judgment in that area.

 

“Her daughter was sick, she was on her own, she was partially estranged from any family support. Michael Jackson falling in to her life by sheer luck – wow…” he shook his head wistfully and dramatically, “what a relief.”

 

I looked at my hands, feeling terrible.

 

“Throughout the course of this trial, you will get to hear all of the evidence that the prosecution is going to bring forward to make Michael look as though he has committed the unspeakable and then immediately after, you will hear us bat all these allegations straight down without any effort.

 

“In addition to that, you’re going to hear a complicated but factual relationship between woman, man and child. Ladies and gentleman, you are going to hear things that will surprise you. You will hear from witnesses who will attest to having put their children in to Michael’s constant care, who will and have continued to trust him alone with their children since these allegations broke.

 

This trial is going to bring to light some things that perhaps Ms. Hargrove didn’t want you to know, perhaps that Mr. Jackson didn’t want you to know about their lives, but nevertheless this trial will bring to light the truth to this ongoing circumstance.

 

“My client, Mr. Jackson … Michael is innocent. Casey Hargrove stole my clients heart with her plight, suffering from what seems like a never-ending battle with cancer. Whether her mother was conscious of it or not, she exploited her child to get what she needed from my client: money, comfort, the best medical attention available anywhere in the world, even a designer baby.”

 

I knew Greg was going to do it. I gave him the permission to do it, but to hear it out loud made me shrink in to myself.

 

I didn’t want the world to know about the child I had yet to grieve for, but I also didn’t want the world to think that I was interested in children and that I was capable of harming Casey – or any other child who was practically a baby.

 

I heard Diane gasp from where she sat just a few feet away from me and I saw the D.A whispering frantically in to her ear. It was my bet she kept our child a buried secret. If she truly believed that I harmed Casey, then I could understood the sickness that she would have felt at knowing she almost gave birth to my child.

 

Nevertheless, regardless of how many people – if any—were to blame. My relationship with Diane and Casey was a heartbreaking story and there was no doubt in my mind that it was taking its toll on Diane too.

 

It was frustrating and borderline torturous to want to reach out to her; to Casey. I wanted to make it better as was my usual instinct.

 

Diane’s head was in her hands and I was sure that she was crying. I swallowed the lump in my own throat and felt like neither of us were going to win regardless of the outcome.

 

I barely listened to the rest of the opening argument. I knew Greg’s only interest was saving me from jail so he would be as ruthless as he needed to be. I understood, I did love Casey still, but I also loved my freedom and I wasn’t going to compromise that at any cost, especially considering I was innocent.

 

I felt so torn.

 

Court finished just after midday. We waited for everyone to leave first before we decided to. We wanted to allow the public seating and Diane’s team to leave first so that I wouldn’t have to encounter anyone.

 

Soon there was just the hum of all the professionals leaving and my family mulling awkwardly around, letting Greg and Sharon chat for a moment before she left too, wheeling behind her cases of files which scared me a little. How many files about me could there possible be?

 

Malania didn’t hesitate or wait. She edged past Jackie and threaded through my parents and made her way over to me. I glanced at her. I wasn’t sure of my expression; if they could all read that I felt heartbroken over what had become of what I still looked upon as a good part of my life.

 

She gave me a weak smile as Greg made his way to us. I absently put my arm around Mal’s waist and drew her closer. My family began to crowd us, drawing closer and crossing past the banister that had separated us all morning.

 

“How do you think that went?” Greg asked me, adjusting his black-framed glasses that looked a little like wayfarers.

 

I shrugged, “I don’t know man, you’re the one who does this for a living…”

 

He chuckled. “Michael, I’m looking after you, you know that right?” he asked me. I knew he could pick up on my despondency.

 

I nodded as I felt Malania leaning her head against my shoulder as if her silent way of comforting me.

 

“I know that…” my voice trailed off. So much of what I wanted to say was unspoken. I wasn’t sure my parents would have picked up on the hint at Diane’s pregnancy to me. I knew I would have to tell them, I didn’t want them to be the last to know. It wasn’t fair for them to find out that their son had lost a child.

 

My mother would have understood, she’d lost a child herself.

 

“Are you alright though?” he asked me, just checking, glancing briefly at my parents behind me. I felt an affectionate pat on the back from my father which was surprising but welcomed.

 

“Yes, I’m just tired, I’d really like to go home and regroup.” I told Greg.

 

“Okay, we’ll debrief in the morning, I’ll be at Neverland at around 8am,” he told me.

 

I could have groaned. I hated little things more than early mornings. I was usually falling in to a deep sleep finally, by that time. I simply nodded.

 

We meandered around a bit and I put on a brave face for my brothers and my parents. I was glad that it was over when we got in to our respective cars. My brothers said that they would be there the next day for me as well. I didn’t particularly care at that point, I just wanted to get home and go to bed and sleep off the awfulness of what had taken place. It was surreal. I couldn’t begin to fathom that my life was going to turn in to a courtroom drama.

 

**

 

I felt relief hit me as we closed the doors behind us. I felt safe and the anxiety that had been on the very surface of my skin seemed to dissipate.

 

“Do you want to talk about today?” Malania asked me carefully.

 

 I shook my head. I didn’t really feel like talking about anything with her because whatever I wanted to say, she was going to negate it by telling me that Greg had done the right thing.

 

No doubt that my freedom was more important than my sadness with what had come of my relationship with Diane: my friend first and my partner second.

 

I just felt like I had compromised everything that I stood for.

 

I felt her hands resting upon my waist and I couldn’t help but step away from her. “Michael?”

 

I turned to face her. She seemed alarmed by what I was sure she would receive as me rejecting her. I didn’t have the energy to allay her insecurities.

 

“Sorry,” I murmured, “I just don’t feel like talking about it. I think I just need to process for awhile.”

 

“Don’t shut me out…” she replied, pouting.

 

“I’m not.” I insisted, feeling irate that I had to always honor her request to have time to herself, though if I did it, she freaked out. “I just need to go for a walk and get some air.”

 

Malania gave me a reproachful stare. “Michael, just talk to me…” she insisted, a little petulantly.

 

“Can’t you handle it?” I asked accusingly, “just me having dealing with my own problem for the moment? This isn’t easy for me, I’m sorry if you feel like you’re being ignored, but jeez… let me be.”

 

“Are you kidding?” she spat at me. “I know you’re hurting but there’s no need to insult me!” she exclaimed with frustration. “Go then, run away from me each time you are dealing with your problems, but don’t expect me to always open my heart up to you.”

 

I ignored her. I knew my words were going to hurt, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to be alone.

 

I wasn’t going to let her get away with it. Maybe it was childish, maybe I was being unfair – but I hated double standards. “What about every single damn morning when you sneak off to have your ‘melt down’ time?” I snapped. “I never say anything! I allow you that time for your brain to go crazy like mine does too sometimes!”

 

She narrowed her eyes at me, hurt.

 

Raia had suggested a short span of time every morning to let her worries go wild, to allow herself that time and then put it to the side so that she could get through the day.

 

I knew it was different, but still, I allowed her her space when it was necessary.

 

She looked hurt. Hurt and furious.

 

“Screw you, Michael.”

 

“Alright!” I raised my voice angrily, “you want to hear what I’m thinking?”

 

“How’s this – I’d rather go to jail than to compromise my integrity and tell the world about my baby – it feels like I’m selling off my fucking soul and doing something revokes all of the trust that Diane ever put in to me!”

 

Fired up, too, Malania didn’t just retreat as I might have expected her to.

 

“Are you kidding me?” she laughed, “the second she accused you of touching her child inappropriately, she did all that herself! Throw yourself a fucking lifeline, Michael! You didn’t do anything wrong! You are telling the truth.”

 

I grabbed a handful of my own hair and let out a deep growl of frustration. I wanted to throw something. I was so frustrated with her for not understanding; for her ability to simplify it.

 

“I don’t want,” he breathed in a deep breath, “the world to know about my baby.” I exhaled the words, but I was still angry. “this feels like I’m betraying not only Diane and Casey but myself and my child.” I blurted out, “and besides all of that?”

 

I could feel my anger causing my voice to raise again, “despite the fact that I never want to be a part of her life again, I still care, Mal, and I know you won’t like that – but I do… and I can’t change it and I don’t want you or anyone else to sit there and tell me how she fucking deserves everything she gets!”

 

“Well she does…” Malania shrugged, crossing her arms.

 

“It’s not helpful!” I yelled, storming back outside, away from her, away from the house, down a path that had just been lit up at dusk.

 

I half-expected her to follow me, but she didn’t and I was thankful for the space.

 

 

 

 

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Chapter 71 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Wowee, it has been a long ass minute since I've added anything to this story. 

Honestly, life has been one giant adjustment since my Mums passing back two years ago and I couldn't do half of the things that I was doing before she passed. I lost my love and passion for most of the things I enjoyed including this....I replaced them with new things, escapsisms (I seriously read over 60 books last yr) etc. But now Im here again, picking back up, feeling ready to do some things I used to enjoy without them having memories attached. 

Sooooooo here's 71 -- I kinda stopped just when my story was developing nicely. If any of my old readers are still reading, thanks for holding on and to you new guys, thanks for reading :)

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Great, I thought under my breath as I walked past the front door a little while after Michael disappeared. I heard the doors open and I braced myself for round-two.

 

But no, no no…

 

It was Katherine Jackson.

 

Maybe it would have been a different kind of round two. Imagine when I had to explain once again that her son had disappeared on my watch.

 

I was still dressed in my clothes from the arraignment and so was Katherine. She looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

 

“Hello Malania,” she greeted me. I wondered if she’d already seen her son.

 

“Hi Mrs. Jackson,” I replied. I was never going to give her a reason to think I was rude or impolite.

 

“Is my son about?” she wondered.

 

I shrugged. “I’m not sure, he went for a walk as soon as we got home. He asked for some space,” I told her honestly.

 

Given what had happened just a few weeks earlier, his emotional ups and downs made me uneasy and a little frightened of what they could spiral to.

 

“You let him go off on his own when he was so upset?”

 

I frowned at her. When would this woman understand what my relationship was with her son.

 

“Mrs Jackson, I am not on your son’s pay role. I’m not his babysitter. I can’t stop him from doing what he wants. I don’t have some special kind of power over him, you know?”

 

I knew she meant well and that her main priority was her son especially given his circumstance, but I couldn’t help but to feel constantly hurt by her unfairness to me.

 

“I mean, he just came from court—he probably needs to talk and to-“

 

“Oh,” I rolled my eyes, “don’t think I didn’t try to get him to talk to me – he is hell-bent on feeling sorry for Diane and Casey Hargrove and he didn’t want to stand for me negating his guilt…”

 

Katherine’s expression changed. “Guilt?” she pressed, coming inside closer, finding a way to the sitting area that was just inside the foyer. It was where I had first met her.

 

I gathered that she had a little trouble standing for too long.

 

“He feels guilty about sharing personal things that were supposed to stay just between the two of them,” I explained.

 

She shifted a little in brown French provincial style chair. I resolutely took a seat too.

 

“I see…”

 

“Mrs Jackson,” I began, throwing caution to the wind. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

 

She stared at me expectantly – her expression changed slightly. She, like her son, had an incredibly disarming stare that made me almost second-guess my olive branch. 

 

“I love Michael and I don’t want anything from him but the love he has for me too. I don’t expect you to immediately believe that because I’m sure every girl he has ever been with has said the same --- but I hope I’ll prove it to you over time.”

 

She looked down to her hands for a moment as if she were considering my words. “Well, none of the women my son have ever chosen have been bold enough to speak to me as confidently as you have, so I suppose you’re already different.”

 

I wasn’t sure if she was being kind or if she was making a subtle dig at me.

 

“Full disclosure,” I told her bluntly, “I met Michael four or so years ago as a fan, I followed his tour for years, not groupie-style, just innocently because he helped me in my time of need.” I explained, “I saw him the night the allegations broke in Mexico, I knew about it before he did and accidentally spilled the news – everyone in his life scattered and all I could think of doing was being there for him, showing some solidarity and as a result, he invited me to stay at Hayvenhurst when he arrived home.”

 

Katherine smiled and registered a little amusement on her face. “Oh, that was you.”

 

I rose an eyebrow.

 

“Our chef took food to you, Michael tried to keep it quiet because he doesn’t like me to ask too many questions He is very private.”

 

“Yeah… that was me. My friend left me stranded outside of Hayvenhurst… Michael heard our disagreement and heard her leave… he came to talk to me.”

 

“Did you ever meet Diane?” Katherine asked, curiously.

 

“I didn’t meet her, but I encountered her. She was rude, jealous and spoke to Michael awfully… I didn’t care for her then and I can’t stand by and accept that Michael feels guilt over what’s happening.”

 

“That’s his heart.”

 

“I know… I feel for the child, but I don’t feel for the woman.” I replied.

 

“She was a beautiful little girl,” Katherine lamented, “its an awful shame how she is being used, especially being so sick.”

 

I shrugged. “I hate all of that too, but my priority is making sure Michael doesn’t go to jail. I’m sure you are on the same page there with me.”

 

She nodded in agreement. “Yes,” she replied. “We are definitely on the same page there.”

 

“I really don’t want there to be bad blood between you and I, Mrs. Jackson,” I said bluntly. “I know you don’t agree with what happened with Michael a few weeks back – but I need you to understand that he was in a very, very dark place and he made me see when I needed professional help and I trusted him and I hope you know that I wasn’t calling 911 for drama. I couldn’t bare to lose him-“

 

“I know,” she cut me off. “He just hides so much from me,” she admitted dropping her guard. She looked a little forlorn, sitting across from me, showing a softer and more loving side. “He shuts me out so its hard for me to see him the way you saw him—its hard for me to believe he could be so self-destructive.”

 

“I would have come to you for help that day, but the first time we met, you didn’t like me-“ I felt more confident talking to her, airing my feelings and feeling less intimidated.

 

“Its not that I didn’t like you-“

 

“Well, I think it was more to do with your concerns about Michael dating someone fresh from the crazy house when he was should have been focusing on the trial.”

 

I saw a smile rouse its way upon Katherine’s lips. She shook her head. “I suppose it was all a bit surprising to me, Michael had mentioned nothing of you and suddenly I was reading all of this stuff in the newspaper—with your brother and it just seemed out of character, I was concerned.”

 

“Maybe when I know you better, I will tell you more about my side of things,” I told her, “I will try my best to encourage Michael to include you in his feelings and even in the trial, but I know he is just trying to protect you, Mrs. Jackson. He blocked me out of the details for awhile too, he just doesn’t want to upset us.”

 

“You’re right. Michael has always tried to protect me from seeing his emotions, even when he was a little boy—“

 

Interrupting our conversation was the door opening and Kaito stepping inside. “Mike??” he called out, not realizing we were just outside the entry way in a sitting area.

 

“Kaito!” I exclaimed. I hadn’t seen my brother in a few days and was happy to see him. I could have only assumed he was with my parents.

 

“Mal!” he grinned, “hey,” I stood up and gave him a hug. He kissed my cheek hello and glanced over at Katherine. As though she were royalty, he bowed, or at least his tiny bit of respectful Japanese culture. I almost laughed.

 

“Mrs. Jackson, this is my brother, Kaito. Kaito, Mrs. Jackson—“

 

She stood up, steadying herself on the chair as she reached to shake his hand. “You’re the boy that got my son in to trouble at the bar,” I thought for a moment that she was serious but I could tell that she had a little glint in her eye and she was teasing him.

 

“Yes, I am so sorry,” he apologized looking completely horrified. “It was a very hard night.”

 

Katherine cracked a smile.

 

“To be fair to my brother, someone called Michael a paedophile and I think I would have been inclined to attack too-“

 

“No, there’s no excuse,” Kaito said quickly.

 

“Its okay,” Katherine said sincerely, “its nice to meet you.” I could tell that she was taken by just how big my brother was.

 

“I am sorry I didn’t make it today,” Kaito said to me more than to Katherine. “How’s Mike? Is he around?”

 

I shrugged. “I don’t know… maybe you can find him?” I said bitterly.

 

He raised an eyebrow at me as if he were asking me silently if his mother knew he had pulled another disappearing act.

 

“Did everything go okay?” he asked us.

 

“Yes, it was fine.” I replied, not really wanting to get in to things with Michael’s mother there.

 

There was some discomfort in the room and Kaito had picked up on it. “Well,” he began, “I’ll go see if I can catch up with Michael some place and see how he’s going.”

 

“No need,” said a voice behind us. It belonged to Michael. We all turned around. He had a habit of sneaking in to a room at times.

 

“Are you okay?” I asked at the same time his mother did.

 

“I’m fine. I don’t need to be baby sat, I just need to digest the day, can you both just settle down?”

 

“You know,” I started as he was about to walk past us to the stairs, “you can have your alone time, that’s no problem, but darn it, Michael there’s no need to be mean to me or your mother for actually caring about you when you won’t even care for you.”

 

Without another word, he climbed the stairs. We exchanged helpless looks before Kaito spoke up.

 

“Nah man, that ain’t right. Maybe he wants a man-to-man talk.”

 

I knew Michael was too scared of Kaito physically to be as rude to him as he had been to me.

 

He set off after Michael. Unless he’d been watching the news, he hadn’t been updated on what the day had uncovered in the courtroom.

 

I looked at Katherine helplessly, “See?” I told her with a little smile, “Michael does what he likes and he has tantrums at me now and then, too”

 

She smiled back tightly. “He isn’t usually this way,” she explained, “he usually pretends he’s fine, he’s never lashed out like this.”

 

May not for you, I thought to myself.

 

“He’s also never been through something like this before, he’s on edge, I guess.” I offered. She nodded in agreement.

 

More than anything, I was feeling calmer and less anxious around Katherine – as if she had finally realized that I wasn’t a bad guy. I relaxed a little, feeling like perhaps she would look to me as a friend and not a foe when it came to her son’s future.

End Notes:

if you like, please leave me feedback :) 

 

 

Chapter 72 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

I have another chapter.... I know, I know, crazy. Two chapters within 12 months! Whats going on! lol

 

I was being just a tiny bit of a brat but I couldn’t help it. I needed to breathe. I felt tense about the day that I’d had and I felt frustrated that none of them could see things from my point of view – if anything, it made me want to shut them out.

 

Kaito rasped on my door before letting himself in. I knew that it was him, Malania didn’t really bother knocking anymore, nor did my mother. I didn’t want him to give me a lecture – I loved the guy like a good friend, but sometimes the fact that I was dating his sister made things a little awkward, especially if Mal and I were in the middle of a disagreement or a tense patch.

 

“Whats up?” I asked, looking up as if I wasn’t expecting to get a lecture.

 

“Just came to see how you went today, is it okay if I sit down?” he let himself in to the study where I had tried to steal away. He didn’t wait for me to answer, he took a seat upon a wheeled chair.

 

“Sure…” I was able to chuckle.

 

“How come my sister and your mother are downstairs having a regular old hens meeting?” he wondered, smiling at me.

 

I laughed, Kaito was a generally infectious kind of guy. It was hard to stay mad when he was around. “They’re both annoyed with me because I wanted some time alone when I got home. Malania is irate because she thinks I’m not fighting hard for myself, but…” I shook my head and shrugged. “I guess its just… I dunno, I don’t want to bother trying to explain it cos no one understands.”

 

Kaito was patient and he was also a good friend. If he was mad with me for the way that I’d spoken to his sister, he never said anything. Rather, he studied me closely and thought before speaking. “Dude, I’m not here to judge you – why don’t you try me?”

 

I sank back in to my leather swivel chair and let it rock backwards. I rubbed my face, trying to relieve some tension. “Take Malania out of the equation and when I say that, know that in a way, I’m glad for what’s happened cos it means I have met your sister and realized she’s right-“

 

Kaito waved his hand, “I’m not interested in hearing you defend your feelings for my sister, I know all that, I know it goes without saying.”

 

“Diane and I were close because of her daughter. I thought there was more and I was always, in a way, begging for more and she kept pushing me away. I persisted and I think I became her escape from the hard times with Casey.”

 

He nodded.

 

I leaned forward, placing my elbows on my knees, avoiding his eyes.

 

“It’s not a great feeling to look back and realize that you were being used, but I guess I don’t care and I would have probably stayed anyway because I loved Casey so much and the little game of pretending she was my very own little girl. She started to call me Daddy and I loved that, but Diane didn’t…”

 

“Why not?” Kaito asked.

 

I shrugged. “Jealousy, maybe? I don’t know… She told me not to let Casey call me Dad, I respected it, but sometimes it broke my heart to have to say it.” I shook my head as if trying to remove some bad memories. “Anyway, when Casey got sick and things began to look really grave, we found out Diane was pregnant and she was so angry about it which again, broke my heart.”

 

“What was her problem? Any woman would be crazy to not want to carry Michael Jackson’s child.” He smiled, I knew he was trying to make me feel more comfortable talking to him.

 

I chuckled, feeling my cheeks heat slightly. “She began to talk a lot about what Casey’s new brother or sister could mean for her health, she began looking in to stem cell research which, honestly is something I struggle to reconcile with, but ultimately I’d have done anything to save Casey’s life.”

 

He nodded.

 

“Diane lost the baby kind of late in the pregnancy, it was a little traumatic and I had grown so excited about being a father and having a child that was actually allowed to call me Daddy… and Diane did not cope, she went from being furious about being pregnant, to feeling so hopeless cos she couldn’t keep her babies alive… and I didn’t get to ever grieve for my child, that was months of me getting excited and prepared and mentally preparing, I was hoping for a boy – I never told her that, but… as far as I was concerned, I had a daughter, I was almost afraid of a biological daughter eclipsing my love for Casey.”

 

“That’s understandable, you’re not horrible for that, Michael.”

 

I shrugged. “One of the last times Diane and I spoke, she asked me for another baby, for Casey, because she was so ill, a baby with a good match could offer another kidney or other needs – and I felt really at odds with such a request. I started to really doubt Diane’s motives for another child – it felt like spare parts, you know?”

 

Kaito nodded.

 

I felt my eyes welling up. “She accused me of not giving a shit about Casey, she said the fact that I had to think about it, meant that I didn’t care as much for her daughter as I had led her to believe – and you know, I really would have said yes.”

 

“Really?” Kaito seemed surprised.

 

“Yeah, I mean, I wanted to be a Dad, I wanted Diane to want me and I hoped that if we were a formal family, then maybe she would let me officially be a father to her daughter… I was already it was just… only when it suited her.”

 

“Dude, she sounds like an incredibly selfish woman.”

 

I drew in a deep breath, it was the same point that Mal and my mother seemed to be missing. “Yes, maybe she was selfish,” I conceded, “but her daughter is so sick and the life that she led up until I came along was very lonely, her mother didn’t approve of her raising her baby alone when Casey’s father left, she was left to do everything on her own – her mother made her life hell and every day was a battle to pay medical bills that kept her daughter alive, she was in the red to a point she would have never recovered from – and today in court, my lawyer told everyone that she had calculated that and it seemed all too perfect….” I explained, “but that wasn’t Diane and I hate myself for allowing her to be painted like that.”

 

I knew Kaito was being careful of his words because he nodded and chose not to say anything.

 

“I know what you’re thinking… because I think it too – I shouldn’t care because she’s allowing the world to think that I’m sick enough to harm someone who I loved and treated as my daughter. I mean, this child, Kaito, she was the sweetest, she had my heart from the second I saw her. By the end, Diane wasn’t coping and I pretty much cared for Casey every moment that I wasn’t working, so I guess now she feels incredibly betrayed that someone she trusted hurt her daughter.”

 

“But that someone wasn’t you, Michael…” he insisted.

 

I nodded. “I know, but… it was someone and I hate that she believes that it was me. I mean, who in their right mind could –“ I shook my head trying to rid the thoughts that passed through whenever I tried to rationalize her thought process.

 

“And my child, our baby,” I started, “I didn’t want my lawyer to bring that up, its private and I haven’t grieved and I don’t know where to start, I didn’t have time to – my main focus was consoling Diane and making sure Casey was fine, I didn’t ever get to focus on my own feelings. I didn’t want the world to know about it, to use our baby as leverage in court…”

 

“Michael, I’m really sorry,” Kaito said softly, “I don’t know what to say. I get why Malania feels frustrated, but she wasn’t privy to your relationship with Diane, you’re her number one priority…” he countered my argument.

 

“I get that, but I wish someone would spare a thought for Casey and for what she’s going through and how we might all make this time less hard for her – I know she’s going to grow up and hear all about this one day and I would be so sad to think that she hates me. I took away her sibling—“ the alternative was that Casey might not get to grow up. “And there’s this tiny space in my heart that truly believes that if this goes to court and everyone finds out that I am not guilty and the guilty person comes forward, then maybe I can still be a part of Casey’s life.”

 

I knew that Kaito held back from saying anything. “I know that’s stupid,” I added, “Diane I can leave behind, I can get over our relationship, maybe not the betrayal, but the relationship, sure…”

 

“Michael,” he began carefully, “I am not saying that you have to forget Casey and forget your role in your life or the fact that she is really the one who is suffering here, but what I am suggesting is that you fight for your own life. Maybe her Mom won’t allow you a part in her life ever again, but if she does, then Casey will need you to prove your innocence and then healthwise she will need you to rebuild yourself so you can best support her. You need to be focused on your freedom and helping your team find the real culprit.”

 

I nodded. It was sage advice – common sense, even.

 

“I guess I just wanted some time… I can’t really quite explain how I feel without somebody telling me I’m being unrealistic or whatever, I know it comes from a good place, but its just really difficult to hear when I’m trying to collect my own thoughts.”

 

“That’s fair, Mike… I don’t think there’s anything wrong with needing time to digest, but try not to be too hard on Mal or your Mom. They love you and want the best for you and they are both incredibly protective of you.”

 

“I know, I’m blessed by that, but… it does make it hard some days when I just want to talk about Casey or say how much I miss her.”

 

“Well… maybe you just need to try, don’t preempt their reactions, let them react for themselves and help them understand where you’re coming from.”

 

I nodded. Kaito got up and pushed the chair back under the desk. “I’ll leave you for a bit, but I’ma make some food and you’re going to eat tonight.”

 

I felt a smile tugging at my lips. Kaito was definitely driving a hard bargain when it came to my food habits. Between him and Malania and the food that their mother ferried over to us regularly, there wasn’t any need for a chef anymore.

 

**

 

After dinner I found Malania sitting by the lake that we sometimes hung out by for alone time and to enjoy the nature. She was running her fingers through the blades of grass with her back to me as she watched the ducks float around in the water. She was always full of thought and I knew that deep down despite her anger, she was trying to see things as I did.

 

It was getting a little chilly outside. I knew she had to be feeling the breeze. I felt bad that she had taken giving me my space so seriously that she had banished herself from the house.

 

“Hey… can I sit?” I wondered softly as I stopped beside her.

 

“Its your land, so I suppose,” she murmured. I was wearing a red cardigan so I took it off and draped it over her shoulders before I sat down in the grass.

 

“Mal, I didn’t mean for you to give me space in a literal sense. I just needed to digest and I’m sorry for shutting you and Mom out.”

 

She shrugged, “There’s never a lot of compromise with you on feelings, Michael, I’ve learned that. You demand feelings until I’m asking you to feel – then you shut down on me. You’ve done this to me constantly the whole time I’ve known you,” she said. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, it was matter-of-fact, as if she wasn’t bothered by it.

 

“Bu-“

 

“Don’t bother denying it, I have many examples. When I don’t share, you push my buttons until I do, you don’t even care if you’ve caused me distress… and yet I’ve never argued with you, or told you it was wrong – I try to just be honest with my feelings so that you don’t feel shut out.”

 

“I know… you’re very good at being honest.”

 

She regarded me with a glance that I could tell was trying to read whether or not I was trying to be funny.

 

“Why don’t I ever get to be the bad guy, Michael?” she asked, “why don’t I get to be the one that calls the shots? I just want you to tell me what you’re feeling or else in my head its something that I’ve done – and then once again I start getting anxious and my brain starts moving back to trauma zone.”

 

“I’m really sorry,” I began, “I didn’t know that.”

 

She didn’t say anything else. I sensed it was my turn to speak.

 

“Mal, I know you are looking out for me and don’t ever think I don’t appreciate that, but its hard because… I want to be honest and open, but I also don’t want to hurt you or make you think that I regret us.”

 

“But…?” she prompted me.

 

I looked ahead and grabbed for her hand that still moved through the blades of grass. I gave it a little squeeze as I felt my eyes spilling over. I had been on the cusp of crying ever since we got back from court.

 

She turned to look at me and when she realized I was in tears, she scooted closer and rested her head on my shoulder. She lifted my hand and kissed it. “It hurts,” I murmured. “I miss that kid. I miss her laughter, her joy, how much she needed me. Its one thing to tell you I was her father figure, but it was more, I was essentially her father. I cleaned up scrapes, kissed the booboos, I held her hand through the needles. When she was doing chemo, I changed diapers, I wiped up vomit, I sang to her and read her bedtime stories while her mother checked out because the idea of losing her child became so real.”

 

Malania didn’t say anything, she just listened and I appreciated it.

 

“I guess I’m so frightened that she might leave this earth and I might never get to make things right for her – and it’ll have been two of my babies…” I felt her drop my hand and put an arm around me. I wiped fresh tears as they fell from my eyes. I tried to blink them back but it wasn’t any use. They slid hot and fast down my face, falling off the plains of my cheeks and on to my shirt.

 

“I wish you had of just said this to begin with, sweetheart…” she murmured, “I’m not a monster, I would have understood.”

 

“I know, I know…” I rubbed my eyes with the ball of my palms, feeling so ridiculous for being so emotional.

 

Silence fell between us, I knew she wasn’t entirely sure how to comfort me. “The idea,” I continued, “that Casey wakes up from sleep and calls out to me and can’t be consoled because I’m not there is heartbreaking, and she would never understand why—Diane is a good mother, but… unless she’s become the world’s most attentive mother, Casey will be lacking the emotional support that she needs, she might give up…”

 

“I’m not telling you this to shut you up, but you’re ascribing your feelings upon her, she will be thinking of you and missing you, no doubt,” Malania told me, “but I think you’re the one that’s not coping without her and that’s okay too.”

 

I wrapped my arms around her. “I’m not… and I try to not think about her, but… I think of my plans and dreams for the baby and that were ripped from me too and God… at the time, all I cared about was Diane and how she felt… but really when I think about it, I’m fucking wrecked inside over it now that I’ve had the time to think.”

 

“I’ve never known a man to want to be a dad more than you, Michael, so I kind of get why this is so hard for you,” she murmured, “especially for that person to then use the very thing you love most, children, against you – well, none of it is fair, is it?”

 

I wondered why I never bothered talking to her earlier. She seemed to take it all in stride and treated me compassionately, rather than getting angry with me for my feelings.

 

I shook my head tearfully. I really hated crying in front of her, but I couldn’t help it and she was a good comfort to have. “No, its not fair… its hard to go from being a father to … suddenly not. I miss her little smile and her cuddles and every other process that came along with it.”

 

If any of my feelings bothered her, she didn’t let it show. She just wrapped her arms around me and hugged me. I reciprocated, encircling my arms around her, letting her comfort me. “I love you,” she said, “I’m sorry that I don’t know the right thing to say but I’m trying…”

 

“I know you are Mal,” I whispered, kissing the crown of her head. “Its just as hard for you to take all of this in as it is for me, I get it… I’m just…” I shrugged, “I guess I’m just sad today because it’s the beginning and its going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better.”

 

“You’re allowed to be sad, Michael, I think… I was angry with you cos I thought you were angry with Greg for doing his job.”

 

“I’m sad because once again I have to expose private parts of my life before a judge and jury – in this case in a very literal sense, that, honestly, I’m not ready to face up to.”

 

“I don’t know if this is the right thing to say or not…” she began, loosening her embrace to look at his face, “and I know it’d never be a replacement,” she started, “but, I promise that one day I will make you a Dad and even in the worst case scenario – you decided you hated me and we split up, I’d never take that from you – not ever.”

 

I couldn’t help but to smile. I knew she meant what she said. “Thank you, that’d be my ultimate dream, but of course I would never decide I hate you.”

 

She smiled back at me. I cupped her cheek in my hand and smoothed my thumb across it before planting a soft kiss on her lips. She reached up and wiped my face that had been wet with tears from our discussion. “I love you,” I murmured.

 

End Notes:

If you love, please leave me some feedback... gimmie some ideas lol

Chapter 73 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

I have got my computer up and going again -- I have dusted off the files... after going throuhg 9038402934 files trying to find the most recently updated one. I have written a new chapter and I hope to finally finish this. 

Soooooo.... enjoy, leave a comment or something. Hope you like this chapter. 

Chapter 73

“I just don’t feel like it today…” Michael murmured in an almost-whisper.

I didn’t feel like dealing with any of it either.

My chest felt heavy and I’d been up earlier to use the bathroom and my legs had been jelly-like. Sometimes I was prone to believing the media’s hype about the evidence that the prosecution alleged to have. I didn’t believe it was anything untoward, but Michael hadn’t had a fair appraisal by the media since the allegations had broken. It’s not that I didn’t believe in Michael, its that I didn’t believe in the justice system. I edged closer to him, nestling my body against the warmth of his. I could have done without the anxiety, but I was just being selfish.

Michael had to have been feeling a thousand times worse than I did.

“I know…” I murmured, “but we have to be strong.”

I felt his grip around me tighten as I pressed my forehead against his shoulder, fitting against his body perfectly. I planted a kiss upon his collar-bone.

“Thanks for seeing this through with me. I know you probably don’t want to spend your day in court.”

I shrugged, “I just want to be there to hold your hand if you need me.” I felt him turn his head to return the kiss upon my upper arm. “Thank you.” I had to really be patient with him.

After the revelations the night before I had to take a step back and stop myself from being so cut and dry when it came to Casey and her stupid mother. I could tell Michael not to worry about Casey all I wanted, but it wasn’t going to magically stop his pain. I thought about all the times when my sister asked me to just stop being so sad all the time.

Feelings didn’t turn up on tap, they weren’t like a faucet that you had the ability to turn on and off at one’s leisure.

I realized I hated him talking about Diane and Casey because it made me feel insecure about my space in his life. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but I couldn’t punish Michael for my own issues.

“Are you worried about today?” I asked him.

“Maybe a little. I always panic when I think about how they might turn things around to make me look bad. Or, the private things that might come out that I’m not expecting—“ he shrugged, “Like with Diane and my baby.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think…” I paused, trying to be tactful, he looked at me expectantly, realizing that I had began to hesitate.

“Yes?” he urged me on.

“Do you think that there’s anything I should know? Something that might come out that I don’t know about and might need some time to digest?” Michael stared up at the ceiling and thought for a moment. Finally he shrugged.

“I mean, nothing that comes to mind and to be honest, and I don’t mean this rudely, but you might be more sensitive about what I find to be nothing or a non-issue.”

I knew he wasn’t trying to hurt me. “I guess we’ll just take every day as it comes.” I replied.

“If there is something, please just bring it up, don’t let it consume you.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

 

**

 

There was the usual fanfare as we arrived to court. One thing I could never get used to was the flashes from the paparazzi and news media photographers. It was absolutely blinding. I tried to shield my own eyes as we got out of the car.

Michael got out first and ignored the pull of his legal team to ignore me and get inside fast. He waited patiently, taking my hand and smoothing the back of my dress for me.

“You okay?” I nodded, regarding him with a little smile. He slipped off his shades and handed them to me. “Put these on, save your eyes. We’ll get you another pair of sunglasses later.”

I hadn’t been able to find my own and suspected they were at home or I had left them someplace. I thanked him and put them on, feeling a bit silly with his aviator glasses on.

He was able to smile at me, holding back a little chuckle.

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” I whispered.

He looked straight ahead, taking my hand and threading his fingers through mine.

“Uhuh,” he replied honestly, “but I’ll try not to hold it against you.” I managed to laugh too, drawing my eyes away from the media and the paparazzis.

I was happy to be inside the court house. Michael dropped my hand so that a sheriff was able to use the metal detector, letting him through. I was next.

I held my arms out while I was checked for anything that shouldn’t have been on my person. I thought about how mad Raia was going to be that I blew off my therapy to be here.

She was going to find out that I wasn’t actually going to see a medical specialist about a rash that I’d not truly developed. She would know I was going to be at court, but I thought worry about that later.

I needed to be there for Michael. He needed me. Once I was given a nod to walk through, I felt his hand take mine again.

“Malania!” I heard my name. Michael and I ignored it, thinking it was press, but I heard it again.

“Miss,” a voice warned the source of the sound.

“I’m with her!” the petulant tone spoke to the security with contempt. I stopped in my tracks. Michael stopped too, I knew he was too preoccupied to have heard my name being called. He looked at me expectantly. I knew who it was and I could feel my feet frozen to the ground.

The tall blond stared back at me with a big smile as a guard stood with his hand out, stopping her from coming forward, as if to confirm with us that she was telling the truth.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Beth was less than a meter away, she was obviously going to be sitting in the public seating. We had heard the seats had been raffled off to fans and curious people wanting to know what was going on.

I stared at her.

She smiled at me; sheepishly, hopefully as if nothing had happened – as if she hadn’t told the media where they could find me after she’d felt that I somewhat betrayed her by going in to Hayvenhurst after she’d left me behind.

She was the reason my brother had come for me, she was the reason for my hospital stay, for my dirty laundry being aired to the world.

“Malania, tell him,” she prompted the guard.

Michael registered what was going on. He leaned forward and kissed my temple and whispered, “forgive but never forget…” he murmured close to my ear.

“I don’t know her…” I replied to the guard and turned my back.

I heard her gasp and swear before the guard told her that she needed to leave.

We continued to walk to the front of the room. I saw Katherine and I wasn’t sure what had changed, but she seemed to have a lot of warmth for me. She waited a moment for Michael to give me a hug.

“You did the right thing, are you okay?” he asked me.

I was shaking a little bit. I nodded. “Yeah, I think so…we’ll talk about it later, you be strong, okay?”

He gazed in to my eyes for a moment and finally smiled. “I promise.”

I kissed his cheek and as I had the day before, felt his body tighten the way mine had when I saw Beth. I knew Diane had walked in.

“Love you,” I whispered.

“Me too,” he replied. I took a seat beside Katherine.

“How are you today, Malania?” she asked.

“I’m okay…” I replied with a smile. “And you?”

“Fine thanks, a little nervous for what the witnesses will try to say, but… I have faith in Greg.”

“Me too…” I nodded. S

he lowered her voice even more as she watched Michael sit in front of us. “How did things go last night after I left? Was he alright?”

“Yeah,” I answered her honestly, “we had a talk and it helped to understand where he was coming from… maybe you should come back again tonight and try to talk.” I suggested.

“Yes… I’ll see how he feels after today.”

We waited for everyone to be seated and I watched Greg and Michael chat quietly. It was nice to see Michael laugh at a certain point at something Greg had said.

I looked to Diane who sat on the opposite side of the room. She spoke to no one, her prosecutor was chatting to others around him. She was stone-faced, staring ahead.

In the moment I pitied her; she looked alone, but … she caused it. I batted away my empathy and turned to Michael’s mother.

“I hope today goes smoothly…” I murmured.

“Me too honey,” she said.

I felt someone sliding in beside me. I didn’t dare look, I was worried it would be Jermaine who immediately gave me the willies.

“Hey Mal! Sorry I didn’t mean to be this late…” I breathed a sigh of relief. It was Kaito.

“Oh hey…” I smiled at him. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He leaned over me and nodded a bow at Michael’s mother.

“Hello Mrs’ Jackson.”

“Hello Kaito,” she nodded back at him and smiled.

Michael whirled around and smiled at my brother. Kaito stood up and leaned over the barrier and he and Michael gave each other a handshake. Michael took a step closer and put an arm around him in a brotherly hug. It made me happy to see that Michael was welcoming of the support.

Kaito put an arm around me.

“Is that her?” he whispered, looking at Diane.

“Yep…” my voice trailed off.

There was some tension about the rest of Michael’s family having issue with Kaito sitting with me, but surprisingly Katherine told Jermaine to settle and to leave it alone. He wanted to be prime and centre, peacocking as usual. Kaito was happy to move, but Katherine stopped him.

“You stay where you are, Michael wants you here,” she said firmly.

He gave me a look that almost made me laugh. Poor Kaito had no idea what Michael’s brothers were really about.

Finally the judge called the court to order. We knew that the prosecution would be first to call all of their witnesses.

Dom Sheldon, the prosecutor was an oaf of a man. He was big and burley and all time time, smug. I wasn’t sure if he wanted Michael to be guilty or if he truly believed it.

He didn’t waste any time. “Your honor, the prosecution will call our first witness, Former bodyguard of the defendant, Seth Whitmore.”

I remembered Seth. He was a tall, lanky man who looked like he was somewhere Nordic. He was always in a bad mood and I wasn’t sure he would have been much of a guard if anything ever went down.

Seth came to the stand and sat down at the right of the judge and was sworn in.

“Mr. Whitmore, how are you doing today?” Sheldon began with pleasantaries as if he really gave a shit.

“Fine thanks,” Seth replied, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Mr. Whitmore, would you please tell us how long you worked for the defendant for?” he asked him, standing up before a lectern, shuffling his papers in the correct order. “

For around 16 to 18months, I believe…” he replied, staring directly at Sheldon and obviously not at Michael.

“Right, and what was Mr. Jackson like as an employer?” he wondered.

Seth shrugged.“He was fine. There were sometimes some odd requests, but I’ve worked for other celebrities who also have odd requests, so I wasn’t too concerned by it.”

“For the court, would you please characterize or pinpoint specifically some of those odd requests.”

Seth thought for a moment and gave a little sigh, “on one occasion, he asked myself and another bodyguard to go downstairs outside of a hotel where there were hundreds of fans waiting and hand pick the sweetest fans to come up and spend some time with him.”

“Was there an age restriction set on those fans?” Sheldon wondered.

“No, but he did like the young fans best.”

“Objection, opinions not facts…” Greg called out.

“Sustained,” the judge replied, “please state facts only, if your testimony is that the defendant explicitly told you he preferred younger fans, state it so, do not cast opinions.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Sheldon replied as if his witness hadn’t just been admonished, as if the judge was doing him a kind favor. “Did Mr. Jackson ever tell you that he preferred younger fans.”

“No, but there were a few fans that traveled around to see him, one in particular was about 16, he liked her a lot which he explicitly told me.”

“When you procured these young fans for the defendant, were there any others in the room with him? Or were you ordered to leave?”

“Sometimes I was told to go and sometimes I stayed, it depended on how safe Mr. Jackson felt with the fan. Some fans became overwhelmed and excited and he did not like that.”

“Did any of the fans that you procured for Mr. Jackson seem upset or complain to you that he had acted inappropriately?”

“No, but I did walk in on him kissing a young fan. I don’t know if she was underage or not.”

“Please describe that occasion for me.”

I felt sick in my stomach.

The idea of Michael having an affair while he swore to me that he was dedicated to Diane and Casey made me feel awful. I wondered if it had been an occasion where I had been downstairs. I felt disgusted with him. I hoped that there was a lot more to the story.

“I was asked to go on an errand to get some things because Mrs. Hargrove and her daughter were to arrive the next day. I knew that there was a fan inside and I was allowed to go in. When there were fans or guests, we did random spot checks to make ensure that Mr. Jackson was safe unless he gave us strict orders to stay out,” he explained, “in this case, I saw Mr. Jackson sitting on the couch next to a girl who did appear to be quite young. She had her hand over his crotch and was leaning against him, kissing him quite eagerly and he had his hand over hers, as if he had put it there. As soon as they saw me Mr. Jackson pushed her away and stood up. He was embarrassed and he gave me a signal that we had which allowed me to know I was to make her to leave.”

“And what was that signal?”

“He would say, ‘what’s up, Seth?’ Mr. Jackson never called me Seth, he called me by a nickname that our coworkers used which was Stretch. If he referred to me as Seth it meant it was time to step in so I did. I told the girl that he was needed and that she would have to leave. She cried and apologized and he said it was fine… she was visibly upset and I had to console her all the way back downstairs that Michael wasn’t angry or upset with her.”

“Thank you for that, Seth, and can you remember any other instances of where you may have seen Mr. Jackson acting inappropriately with anyone including Casey Hargrove?” Seth rolled his shoulders and focused on Dom Sheldon.

“Honestly, I liked Mr. Jackson and I thought he was being a good father to that little girl, but right before I stopped working for him, I did encounter an odd situation which made me feel a bit funny. I saw Mr. Jackson kissing the child.”

“Please specify for the court where you saw Mr. Jackson kiss her.”

“On the mouth and then covered her in kisses all over her cheeks and neck and tickling her but it didn’t seem like it was in a way that was, you know, cute…”

“Thank you, Seth and lastly, why did you stop working for Mr. Jackson?”

“I started to feel uncomfortable with the work, with the things I was witnessing. I thought it was in my head. I talked to a coworker, Michael about it, and he said I was being stupid, but I’m a father myself and I didn’t like it so I got a new job.”

“Thank you, no further questions—“ Sheldon added.

The judge looked to Greg.

“Do you care to cross-examine this witness, Mr. Philburn?”

“Thank you, your honor.” Greg got up and buttoned his suit jacket. He stood at the lectern and gave a smile to Seth.

“In your testimony you mentioned you stopped working for Mr. Jackson because you weren’t comfortable with what you saw. Would you also explain to the court the conversation that you had with Mr. Jackson around the time you stopped working for him and let me remind you that you are under oath.” Seth looked down at his hands.

“It was a misunderstanding,”

“Your honor, I would like to call exhibit 1.a of an employment separation contract signed by both Mr. Jackson and Seth Whitmore at the time of his mutual termination of employment.”

On a projector, the bailiff produced a slide for the court. It took me a moment to figure out what it said.

“Seth Whitmore was caught buying personal items on Mr. Jackson’s credit card. These things were small in value in the beginning and increased in value as he grew more confident in ripping off his boss. The last purchase which was what was brought to Mr. Jackson’s attention was a charge for a large television for his daughter. This contract stipulates that Mr. Jackson was allowing Mr. Whitmore to walk away from his job without any criminal charges or any debit relating to the purchases so that his future jobs would be unaffected. This was an incredibly kind gesture from an apparently evil man.”

I couldn’t help but to smile. I loved Greg so much in the moment.

“Now, Mr. Whitmore again, would you like to explain the finer details of the conversation with Mr. Jackson. This separation contract has been signed by you and is an acknowledgement and admission of your criminal activity.”

“I used Mr. Jackson’s card by accident,” he said. “Mr. Jackson came to me after being questioned by his accountant and he gave me the chance to explain myself. I admitted it had been an accident and that I had used his card thinking it was mine. Mr. Jackson was understanding and said that it was fine. When I tried to tell him I would pay it back as it was my daughter’s birthday gift, he said don’t worry about it and he hoped she had a good birthday. The next day I was forced to sign the contract.”

“And that is your testimony?” Greg confirmed.

“Yes, why would I lie about that? I’m not a criminal. I admitted the mistake.”

“I don’t know why would lie, Mr. Whitmore, but it doesn’t seem out of character, you just lied in your testimony that you left because you were uncomfortable when in fact you were forced to sign a contract admitting to your criminal activity.” Seth went to say something but Greg cut him off.

“Would it seem plausible that Mr. Jackson gave you a free pass because he is a kind and generous person but later went over the rest of his accounts to find the other purchases that were made that he did not approve or ask for?”

“They were misunderstandings,” Seth said again.

“Oh, really? Misunderstandings… all of the 53 purchases over a span of 8 months? Each time you made a spend of escalating costs, you accidentally used Mr. Jackson’s card? Did you know the full total of money you defrauded Mr. Jackson was $32,000?”

He said nothing.

“I’d say you had an incredibly kind boss. So kind that when he was being attacked sexually by a fan, he did not want her to feel bad about it and did not cause a scene but casually asked you with your secret signal, to remove her without a ruckus.”

“She wasn’t attacking him, that was clear.”

“Your testimony states that she was pushing herself against him, kissing him eagerly while touching his crotch, do you agree?”

“Yes,” Seth replied.

“Would it be possible that when you walked in he was protesting and trying to put a stop to it?”

“Well-“

“Is it possible that Michael jumped out of his seat and saw you as the welcome end to an uncomfortable situation.”

“I suppose its possible but-“ Greg cut him off.

“Great, so its possible. And you state that Mr. Jackson was kissing Casey Hargrove on the mouth – let’s give that some context. Was he using his tongue?”

“No.”

“Was he giving her an intimate kiss or was he giving her a peck on the lips the same way I kiss my daughter?”

“He was kissing her in a frenzy while tickling her.”

“Right,” Greg started to laugh which caused some of the jurors to laugh and I felt so much tension release from my shoulders and neck. Greg was fast-paced and so quick to smash apart the bodyguard’s story.

“Sorry, I apologise to the court for my laughter, its just that… Mr. Whitmore, you’re describing a game we all play as father’s with our children, especially our little girls. Tickle monster… covering our kids with kisses.” He shook his head as if he was suddenly vexed.

“Mr. Whitmore, did Casey cry or laugh when Mr. Jackson was kissing her and tickling her?”

“She was giggling,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry could you please speak loudly and clearly for the court.”

“She was giggling,” he repeated clearly.

“So based on a vibe and no actual evidence you feel as though Mr. Jackson is guilty. Is that correct?”

“I have so-“

“Yes or no is fine.”

“Yes,” Seth conceded.

“Well…” Greg grabbed his papers and made his way back to his desk with Michael. “why don’t we just go around and start picking people out of the public seating and bring them up here and ask all of their personal opinions, its about as useful as this witness…” he grumbled, taking another seat.

“Objection!” Sheldon boomed, angrily.

“Withdrawn, I rest the witness.” Greg replied loudly as if he were bored.

I felt Katherine grab my hand. I glanced at her and she gave me a smile. A knowing smile that Michael was in very good care with Greg. I smiled back at her, happy that she was finally warming to me.

Chapter 74 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Hey guys, this is the day of reckoning for Diane. Finally a few bits of the puzzle will be put in to place! 

Chapter 75



I put the bottle down and took a mouthful of the single malt liquor that I’d generously poured in to the glass and let it slide down my throat making me recoil with shock from the way it burned. 


 


I couldn’t stop; I needed something anything to take the edge off the way I was feeling; isolated and alone. 


 


I had nowhere else to go and I couldn’t deal with my mother anymore. She was ruining me and her attitude toward my precious daughter was too much for me to take. 


 


So we were back home – in the house that Michael paid for; all of the belongings that adorned the house were funded by my child’s abuser. I felt sick about it, but I didn’t have a choice.


 


Casey didn’t mind. She was happy to be home. She didn’t say it out loud, but I had noticed a change in her behavior. She wasn’t as clingy, she didn’t cry as much and she was smiling and talking to me more. Her selective mutism came and went in waves, particularly when she was stressed. 


 


“Get ready for bed time, honey,” I called out to her from the kitchen. 


 


I flipped over to the news and took another gulp of the spirit in my glass, feeling myself almost instantly relax. It had been a rough week; a rough and lonely week.


 


Self-doubt had set in and I was so certain that the DA had begun to lose sight of the fact that my daughter was a victim. He had his own axe to grind and stopped listening to what I was telling him. 


 


The news flashed on and I saw Michael’s face fill the screen. It was the same rolling footage of him leaving the courtroom with that girl… It was hurtful and a little bit heartbreaking to see that the promises he’d made to me obviously meant nothing if he was so quick to move on. It hadn’t even been six months… 


 


I muted the TV. I didn’t want to hear how well his defense was going. I was shocked and upset by how quickly his lawyer had cut down our first three witnesses who in my eyes, were incredibly useless and were just making me look like I was looking for my pay day.


 


The truth was, I didn’t want the money, I didn’t want a life of luxury and I would have never exploited my children… I missed the security. I missed the joy of my daughter upon seeing him. I missed not having to carry the burden of having a sick child on my own.


 


Maybe I wasn’t able to fall in love with him the way he wanted, but I did love him. It wasn’t perfect, what I felt, but it was all I could give. 


 


I heard Casey coming down the hallway. She was clutching on to her Big M bear. I had given up the fight of trying to keep it from her. She climbed on to the couch beside me with the bear under her arm. I smiled at her. She looked so sweet in her little pink all-in-one. 


 


“Are you ready for bed?” 


 


She nodded. 


 


I held my arms out to her and let her climb in to my lap. We had a lot of time together like that; it was nice and it wasn’t something I’d allowed myself to have when Michael was around. He was so quick to be the comforter, the consoler and I was used to my role as being distanced and worried and having the luxury of emotionally checking out on her.


 


That wasn’t fair to her, though. She deserved to be able to rely on her mother for comfort and to be able to say and do the right things. 


 


I was about to switch the channel before she noticed Michael, but she stilled for a moment. She caught his face on the TV. She started wriggling out of my grip. “Case-“ 


 


“Nooo!” she exclaimed – the first thing I’d heard out of her mouth in more than a couple of days. I thought she had become distressed, but surprising me, she got off my lap and got very close to the television. She sat down in front of it. 


 


“Casey, move back, Mommy has to change the channel.”


 


She shook her head and reached out to touch Michael on the screen. I felt my heart break. “Honey remember… Michael hurt you…” 


 


“No!” she said again, “Nonono! I want my Daddy!” she said sadly before her voice broke and she began to cry. 


 


I got up, feeling my tears well up and overflow as well. I scooped her up and held on to her. “He’s not your Daddy, that’s Michael… but not Daddy.” 


 


“Daddy,” she said again. “Where is he?” 


 


“Honey…” I began calmly, looking my daughter in to her tearfilled blue eyes. I didn’t want to make it worse but I didn’t know what to do anymore. “Honey, remember Michael hurt you…” 


 


“Michael…” she repeated again. 


 


Sometimes with the Mutism, I struggled to know if she comprehended what I was telling her. Sometimes she would repeat what I said as if she liked the sound of it, rather than understanding. It was frustrating. 


 


She peeled her eyes away from mine to old footage of Michael on the Bad Tour – I wasn’t sure where in the world he was from the footage on the screen, but it could have been anywhere. The kind of crowds he brought in to his hotel each night sometimes blindsided me. 


 


They showed footage of Michael and Larry side by side, Larry being the pain in the ass he always was, picking out fans for Michael to spend time with, making them report to him first. I never wanted to upset Michael by telling him, but I was almost sure Larry was having his turn with some of the girls who loved their idol so much and truly believed that Larry was their gateway. 


 


Casey became transfixed by the screen and began to cry again. 


 


“Its okay my beautiful girl, its okay to feel sad that Michael hurt you…”


 


She shook her head and sobbed. “Nononono!” she pointed to the TV and I decided it was enough. I got up and picked her up and turned the television off. She kicked me and faught me and screamed. Her behavior was so out of character that I figured it was a reaction to seeing Michael for the first time since it had all happened. 


 


I was hopeful that she would have forgotten him at least a little, but it didn’t seem like it. 


 


I took her to her room and sat down on her bed with her. “Sweetie, I need you to stop crying, okay?” I told her sternly. “I know its very upsetting… I know you miss Michael and it’s so hard for you to understand.” I wiped my cheeks where my tears streamed down my face. I was so torn. I wanted to be mad at Michael, but I understood. I missed him too. I felt so disgusted with myself but I couldn’t help it. 


 


She eventually stopped fighting me and let me lay her down in bed as she cried. Her little body shivered with sobs as she tried to calm down. I wiped her tears as well. 


 


“I wish you would talk to me…” I murmured out loud. “I wish you could tell me…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I wished she could have told me that I was wrong, that Michael didn’t harm her. 


 


It took me a long time to calm her down. It took cups of water and stories and cuddles until she was finally exhausted by her emotions. I had abandoned all hopes of going to sleep and had curled up beside my daughter. I kissed her forehead. 


 


“Casey…” I began as she stared at me with her huge curious eyes. “Casey, I need you to start using your words… Grandma isn’t here anymore and Grandma won’t come here anymore. But Michael won’t be here anymore either. It’s you and I. I want you to try to be a big girl and help Mommy by using your words, okay?” 


 


Casey stared back at me without responding and I realized how futile it all was. 


 


I tried not be angry with her, but it was certainly trying. “Okay, let’s read one more story and we can go to sleep, is that alright?” 


 


She nodded and passed me a book from the tall pile of books that once again, Michael had bought for her. They read so much together and I knew it was where her love for books came from. One of my last memories of Casey and Michael together had been him teaching her how to read and she had been outgoing and chatty and was reading certain words to him without prompting. 


 


**


 


I woke up to Casey crying and shaking and instantly I thought that something was wrong. I sat up, the light from her bedside lamp hurt my vision. How much had I had to drink? 


 


“Casey what’s wrong?” I asked her matter-of-factly. I realized pretty fast that she had wet the bed. It was something that had been happening on and off since all this had began. Ignoring the damp spot on my pants, I got up and picked up my daughter. 


 


“Its okay baby…” I murmured softly, not wanting to make matters worse or upset her further. 


 


“Its alright, come on…” I took my daughter’s hand and helped her up out of bed. I got her freshened up with some new pajamas and then remade her bed. Once she got back in, I asked her to wait while I got her a sipper cup of water and I got myself changed. 


 


I went back in and sat down on the edge of her bed and kissed her forehead. “I think you just had a bad dream honey.” 


 


“Yeah…” she murmured in a soft sullen voice that almost broke me.


 


“Did you want to tell Mommy what your dream was about? Sometimes that can help…” 


 


“Birdie...” she mumbled. I was shocked that had elaborated. 


 


“Birdie?” I questioned her confused. I thought for a second. Big bird? “What’s Birdie?” 


 


“Bird, Mommy, Birdie!” 


 


“You had a bad dream about Birdie?” I asked again, I had no idea what she was talking about. 


 


She nodded again. “Like big bird?” I asked.


 


She shook her head. “Birdie,” she said again. 


 


“Okay,” I said as if I understood. I kissed her forehead again. “Well, Birdie won’t hurt you anymore. Don’t you worry okay?” 


 


She nodded and handed me her sippy cup. I knew she was too old for it, but she was probably too old for a lot of things she still got away with. “Close your eyes,” I prompted her. I waited for her to do as I told her and I began to stroke her hair until I was comfortable that she was sleeping again peacefully. 


 


I turned out her light and went and got in to my own empty bed, feeling incredibly sorry for myself. 


 


**


 


It hurt to see them together but each time I felt the pang of jealousy, I hated myself that little bit more. 


 


“This witness is going to really harm the case,” Sheldon promised me with his big goofy smile. I knew he didn’t like Michael. I didn’t know if he believed he was a pedophile or if he was just determined to take down a high-profiled celebrity right on the eve of his retirement. 


 


“I don’t care,” I said in a small voice. 


 


“What?” he looked at me with a look of absolute disgust. “You want this joker to get away with making a fool of you and Casey?”


 


“Making a fool of us?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir, but my daughter was molested, he wasn’t making her a fool. He made her a victim!” I hissed. 


 


“Listen,” he began through clenched teeth. “I would say to you, Ms. Hargrove, that you need to figure out exactly what you want out of this because when Jackson is behind bars where he belongs, you and your daughter will be set for life. So you either care now or you can not care and see how far that gets you for you and the future of your little girl.” 


 


I buried my face in my hands. 


 


They called the another witness to the stand who was a former staff member at Neverland. I remembered the face immediately. Her name was Blanche. It reminded me of the Golden Girls, a show that I loved to watch when Michael wasn’t around. He thought it was cheap, but I just liked the laughs. 


 


She stated her name and recounted a time where she said she had seen Michael touching my daughter inappropriately. I knew I was looking for any shred of evidence that would incriminate Michael, but instead I found myself finding holes in her story. 


 


Her job at Neverland was to do a little house cleaning three times a week. I knew the times that she worked because sometimes I felt lonely in that big house when Michael was away and asked her join me for a coffee. When I told Michael, he found it funny and didn’t seem to mind that I was making friends with the help. 


 


She worked for one hour in the morning and around 2 hours in the early afternoon – a shift that was made flexible by Michael himself as her husband had a couple of hours work each day and it made it easier for her to work out who would look after her children. 


 


She said she witnessed Michael touching my daughter inappropriately at bath time. Only, Michael and I often spent that time with Casey together. Casey loved bathing and it took a team effort to talk her out of the tub. Also, the only time Michael ever bathed my daughter was on the odd occasion I was not around, which… was on tour. 


 


“This is bullshit, she would never have witnessed that. Her cleaning areas weren’t even near the bathroom,” I told Sheldon with annoyance when there was a break for a brief recess. 


 


“She says she saw what she saw, who do you think are, Jackson’s defense counsel? Ms. Hargrove,” he began pointedly, “what’s going on?”


 


I thought about it and sighed. My daughter was a victim. I wanted desperately to believe it wasn’t Michael, but I didn’t know from one day to a next what he was capable of. I felt like it was crafty of him to use the fan that he used to tell me he thought was cute as a weird media stunt. 


 


Sometimes he did pull media stunts, he liked to keep himself relative – at times it back fired, but then there were other times, he was trying to portray a normal adult relationship in the media and it was working. 


 


I just looked like a gold digger. 


 


After the brief recess, Michael’s defense attorney got up and approached the stand. “When you were at Neverland, did you work in the main house?” 


 


“Yes,” she nodded. 


 


“You had restricted access to many parts of the house, am I right?” he asked her. 


 


“Yes sir,” she answered honestly. 


 


“The bathroom of which you allege you saw my client inappropriately touching Jane Doe was not in the area of the house that was accessible to you, am I right?” 


 


She hesitated. 


 


“That’s okay, you don’t need to answer.” Greg called on the Bailiff to exhibit a new contract, a handbook for the staff. It was fairly professional. It was full of agreements and a special map at the very back; it was a clear indication of which areas of the house she was to go and which areas she was not allowed. 


 


“The bathroom in question was in private quarters near Mr Jackson’s and Jane Doe’s bedroom, is that correct?” 


 


“Yes but-“


 


“But nothing, thank you for answering yes or no. Now, did you often break the terms of your employment by helping yourself to areas of the house where you were not permitted?”


 


“No! But I saw what I saw, I was there because I just wanted to tell Mr. Jackson I was leaving!”


 


“Is that something you would often do, Mrs. Maidestone? Report to Mr. Jackson when you arrived and when you were leaving?”


 


“No I-“


 


“Thank you,” he cut her off. “So why did you feel the need on this particular occasion to notify him?” 


 


She went to answer but Greg cut her off again. “Nevermind, withdrawn, now would you consider Mr. Jackson, in your dealings to have been a private man?” 


 


“Yes,” she nodded. 


 


“Was he quite strict on privacy, where you were permitted to go to and where you were not?” 


 


“In some cases, yes, in some cases no.”


 


“Hmm, interesting. Would you mind reading the last line the contract that you signed out loud for the court.” 


 


She looked down at the paper he handed her and sighed. “Mr. Jackson’s value on his privacy is not to be taken lightly. Due to Mr. Jackson’s public status, he requires all staff to honor his requests and respect his wishes. Unfortunately, failure to comply with the rules and terms of your employment will lead to termination.”


 


“Thank you!” he smiled. “So you’re admitting you did not comply with your employment terms, you signed this contract and you decided to take it upon yourself to enter in to an area of the house of which was not permitted to you. Do you understand how this brings your credibility in to question?”


 


“Objection!” Sheldon stood up, annoyed. 


 


I could tell he was frustrated, he was getting redder in the face and he was huffing and puffing beside me. I knew his witness was taking a nose dive which he was not prepared for 


 


“Nevermind, withdrawn,” Greg replied. “Are you telling me that one hour after your sign-off sheet, you waited around or worked extra without getting paid and then allowed yourself in to a permitted area and watched Mr. Jackson molesting a child and said nothing for 9 months about it?” 


 


“I was scared.” 


 


“Of what? A distracted 125lb male allegedly in the moment of defiling a child? I doubt that very much,” Greg answered and rested her as a witness. 


 


Sheldon got up to re-question the witness, trying to salvage her credibility even though it was ruined. 


 


“Ms, Maidstone, thank you for being so patient today. I just have a few more questions—“


 


She smiled at him.


 


“Would you say that Mr. Jackson was surrounded by good people in his daily life?” 


 


She nodded before shrugging thoughtfully. “More or less.”


 


“Can you name some of the people of whom you had dealings with on a weekly or daily basis?”


 


“Well, Mrs. Hargrove for starters, I guess, we saw each other almost every day. She was very kind and her daughter was so sweet and lovely.”


 


“Would you say that you became friends with my client?” 


 


“Yes of a kind. We sometimes had coffee. She was nice.”


 


“So the fact that you did not immediately say anything after you caught the defendant touching her child inappropriately holds weight to just how scared you were. Why were you afraid, Ms. Maidestone?” 


 


“Because Bird was always on my case about something. If I didn’t do something correctly or whatever, he would threaten my job; or he would say, Blanche you know, if Michael doesn’t like you or the way you work, he will fire you and ruin your reputation so fast you’ll never get employed again. He said that many times.”


 


Everything faded slightly as I focused in on her sentence. 


 


“Bird was always on my case about something.”


 


“Bird? Who the f…” I murmured under my breath. 


 


Sheldon and I were on the same page there. “Can you explain to the court who Bird is and how that came to be if you are aware?” 


 


“Larry Birkowitz. Sometimes Mr Jackson had nicknames for people. He used to tease Bird and tell him he was built like The Penguin from Batman… Then he just called him Bird sometimes also because of Larry Bird… he thought it was hilarious… and I guess it stuck. Larry didn’t seem to mind.” 


 


I felt confused. I was trying to make sense of what I was hearing, but my brain wasn’t entirely computing. 


 


“Was Larry Birkowitz a good person, in your opinion?” 


 


She shrugged. “He would try to get me to do things outside of my area of what was appropriate, taking certain things to be cleaned, pick up his dry cleaning, he would say it was an order from Mr Jackson, I was suspicious but I didn’t ever follow it up.”


 


“And what about other people?”


 


“Most of Mr. Jackson’s body guards and assistants were all very nice and kind.” 


 


My mind was still racing and I paid very little attention to what was being played out in front of me. 


 


“You are one hundred percent certain that you witnessed Mr. Jackson touching the child in question inappropriately?” 


 


What I did catch was the tiniest bit of hesitation from her. I knew if I had picked up on it while my brain was having a minor meltdown that I hadn’t entirely registered yet, then the rest of the court would have too.


 


As if all at once a lot of noise overcame my senses at once. The noise came from my subconscious screaming at me, from my physiological reaction of wanting to begin vomiting everywhere and then my soul telling me to shut the fuck up and politely excuse myself. 


 


I took three deep breaths and leaned over to Sheldon’s aid. “I need to be sick,” I told him. She smiled at me knowingly. 


 


“No,” I said firmly as Sheldon was wrapping up the witness. “I am about to be sick, I need to go to the bathroom.” 


 


I needed a minute to think and organize the buzzing in my head. 


 


Sheldon was about to slide in to his chair. The aid waved him to move closer. 


“Diane needs to use the bathroom its an emergency.” 


 


“I’m about to puke my insides up if neither of you move out of my way.” I told them both firmly. I didn’t wait for anyone to say anything further, I got up out of the chair and darted out the back of the court room and straight in to the bathroom. 


 


I could hear the aid moving after me and as I was leaving the judge was lambasting the DA for my inappropriate behavior but I didn’t care. 


 


I locked myself in the stall and let my legs buckle as I fell over the toilet, not caring whether or not was clean. I began to vomit up every tiny bit of what was left inside of me; my food, my feelings, my guilt and part of my soul.


 


Bird Mommy, Birdie!


 


Fucking Larry Birkowitz. It seemed so obvious and yet I found it so easy to immediately believe it was Michael when it was fucking Larry the whole time. There was a reason why no one was able to find Larry when the news broke. There was a reason why Larry’s wife had fled to Spain and wouldn’t let him see his two young daughters when we were in Europe.


 


Fucking Larry Birkowitz. 


 


I’d just ruined Michael’s life and probably my own. 


 


I began to vomit all over again. 


 

End Notes:

Let me know what you think by dropping off a comment! How great is Greg?

Chapter 76 by SkyWriter
Author's Notes:

Hey guys, please let me know what you think of this chapter? I am wondering if this is going OK. I am hoping to wrap this story up soon. xxx

Chapter 76


We were stunned by Diane’s exit. She looked distraught and sick. I hoped that she was okay. The judge called for a brief recess but no one was allowed to leave for moment.


“This case is weak at best,” Greg leaned over and whispered to me.


I nodded. I was no lawyer, but I could see that what the DA had spread through the media as their evidence showboat was nothing short of bullshit. They had nothing on me.


I was also super impressed with Greg. He had a very good reputation, but I was shocked by how quickly he reduced each witness to a useless cause for the case.


I began to hear some commotion going on outside of the courtroom. I could hear Diane sobbing and the aid trying to quiet her. I couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Everyone turned to look at the doorway. I turned to see Malania just turning back. We made eye contact; her eyes were wide with surprise. “What the fuck…” she mouthed.


I shrugged.


“Order in the court!” the judge hit his gavel and we turned back to the front.


“Counsel would you like to go and find out what is happening with your client? This is testing my patience.”


Sheldon scurried out.


Within a few moments he returned. “Your honor, I would like to make a request that we finish here today. Given the nature of the crime against my client’s child, she is understandably going through a lot of stress and is not fit to be here health-wise for the rest of the afternoon.”


Greg stood up as they were both asked to approach the bench. I could hear most of the conversation, Greg was protesting and asking that we continue without Diane.


My client is understandably going through a lot of stress and anxiety given the nature of the accusations against him and he is still here and drawing this out is a miscarriage of justice. My client deserves to have his innocence swiftly proven, if you don’t mind, Mr. Sheldon.”


“While I appreciate your eagerness and your client’s needs, Counsel,” the judge said to Greg, “I am going to side with Mr. Sheldon on this one. If his client is physically unwell, she can get the medical care she needs and pending an assessment, we will adjourn for today and resume at 9am tomorrow.”


Greg sighed and shook his head at me.


I didn’t mind. I wanted to go home. I wanted to go lay in bed.


The judge announced that the court was adjourned and everybody began to leave. I heaved a sigh, feeling worried about Diane. I didn’t want to care but I couldn’t help but to have that nagging feeling in the back of my mind; concern and empathy.


I looked over our notes still on the desk as I waited for the public seating area to clear out. There was a schedule of witnesses. One name piqued my interest; Rosa; my ex make-up artist. She was one of Greg’s witnesses. I smiled and turned to him. “How did you get in contact with Rosa?”


He returned my smile and gave me a funny look. “What do you mean?”


I pointed to the paper, “Rosa… she’s a witness, my ex make-up artist.”


He gave me a bit of a funny look. “Michael, just about everyone that came in to contact with you in the past 10 years who has good things to say about you is one of our witnesses.”


“Is there anyone missing that you can think of?” I asked him curiously. “I mean, do we have everybody?”


“More or less anyone we had reason to look at from their past.”


I nodded.


 


**


Mother came back to my house after court and it was nice to watch her chat with Malania in a more relaxed way. There was no tension and they were getting along well.


Kaito was asking my mother a million questions, starry-eyed and curious. It was kind of nice.


“Michael,” Malania spoke up. “My Mama and Papa asked Kaito if it was okay to come and visit tomorrow, are you going to be okay with that?” she asked me, looking up from the conversation that my mother was having with Kaito briefly.


“Sure,” I smiled. “Are they coming to court or…?”


“No… just maybe afterwards. Are you sure that’s okay?”


I made my way the short distance to where my girlfriend stood, ready to go and get some food. I put an arm around her and gave her a smile. I let my eyes sweep over the smooth plains of her face. Her lips turned in to a smile as well. I’d never been one for public displays, certainly not in front of my mother. I didn’t worry though, I was comfortable enough with Malania and I wanted my mother to know that I felt comfortable enough for everyone to see us together.


I could tell Malania was a little surprised to see me inching toward her, closing the distance between us for a short but soft kiss on her lips. I pulled away and repeated my action. I smiled at her again. “Of course I’m sure,” I replied, briefly glancing at Kaito and mother. I saw her staring at me.


As soon as we made eye contact, she looked away first and concentrated back on what Kaito was telling her.


“What do you feel like eating?” she asked me sweetly.


I gave a shrug. “I dunno, I’m okay… not really very hungry.”


She cocked her head to the side. “Come on, Michael… I am tired of having to prod you to eat. If I leave it to you, you’d be eating chocolate for a sugar rush.”


I sighed. “I dunno, just.. whatever you make will be fine.”


“I’m going to tell Kaito you’re not eating properly and he’s going to pull that crazy chef shit all over again…” she murmured quietly so my mother wouldn’t hear her curse.


I laughed.


When Kaito first began to stay with me he had been cooking like crazy every night. He loved to cook and everything he cooked was healthy and perfectly portioned to maintain his weight and strength. I at least could understand that.


“Michael,” Mother called to me at the same time the phone started to ring. “Sorry, just a sec…” I replied and turned my back to get the phone. It was a short distance in the hall. On the way out, I could hear Malania and Kaito discussing what to feed me.


“Hello?”


There was a sound muffled by what sounded like sobs. “Hello?” I greeted again. I was ready to hang up, thinking that someone had found my number. I had managed to keep this one for so long now.


“Michael…” a voice managed speak, uncomposed; falling apart.


“Who is this?” I asked, thinking that it was perhaps a fan.


“Michael please don’t hang up on me.”


I felt my whole body grow cold and my muscles tightened. I wanted the moment for so long and now that it was happening, I felt shocked and angry at her sheer brazenness to call me.


“Diane?” I had to be sure. It could have been a set-up, but I wasn’t sure. “Diane is that you?” I hissed, not wanting to be heard by anyone.


“Yes Michael, please don’t hang up, I need to ask you something very important.”


It was against all better judgement. I should have hung up. It could have incriminated me. However, I didn’t understand why she would be calling me if she truly believed I was capable of the things she was accusing me of.


“I won’t hang up,” I told her icily. “you shouldn’t be calling me.”


“I know, I know…” I could hear the hysteria in her voice. I felt for her, but I was determined to be strong and not fold at her emotions. It wasn’t my job to be her emotional crutch any longer. “Michael, please tell me something and I need you to be honest, this is really serious.”


I almost hung up. I knew she was about to ask me if I was guilty. If I told her the truth was she going to drop the case?


“tell you what?,” I asked, feeling the disgust vibrate within the words as I pushed them out of my mouth. I tried my best to keep my tone even and emotionless.


“When I wasn’t around, how often do you think you may have left Casey with Larry for?” she asked. “I mean, I know sometimes we left him with her briefly here or there… but…” she spoke fast and urgently.


“What?” I was confused. Wasn’t it enough she was accusing me. “Why are you asking me that? Do you think I was in some kind of fucking paedophile ring?” I spat at her, my voice low. “I don’t know Diane, the only times I left Casey with Larry were the times that you know about. We were never far away, in our room, down the hall... I could probably count it on two fingers the times where I left her with him while I did fan stuff… Why are you even calling me? This is wrong.”


She was sobbing again. “I went to Sneddon, I told him I wanted to drop the case… but he won’t. He is pursuing it with or without me and can compel me to testify,” her voice broke with fresh tears. She sounded desperate and full of regret.


I could feel myself shaking. I was angry. “Why did you even do this to begin with?”


“I made a mistake…” she sobbed, “Michael… I think it was Larry, I don’t think it was you, but they can’t find him and they won’t listen to me, so I need you to listen to me. Tell your lawyer to find Larry.”


“What?” I was shocked. “What are you saying? You don’t think it was me? You don’t believe I harmed Casey?” I tried to speak again but I was left speechless.


There was some silence between us for a moment until I tried again. “H…why-“ I paused and took a deep breath, “how could you ever think I could do that to her?”  


“I didn’t want to believe it, what was I supposed to think?” she exclaimed, “I’m so sorry Michael, I made a mistake. I was stupid. I am so, so, so sorry. I just thought…” I could hear her crying.


I felt dizzy with shock, numb all over – in fact, more than numb, I had tingling in my hands and arms. I wanted to be mad, but I couldn’t be. “Casey started saying some things the other day… she saw you on TV…she said you didn’t hurt her… she had a nightmare… she started talking about Birdie…”


“Fucking son of a bitch,” I blurted out under my breath. I tried to breathe evenly.


“You have to find him because nobody will listen to me,” she said, “I’m sorry… please know…”


“Michael, who is it?” Malania asked me, coming in behind me, noticing me shaking. I hadn’t even noticed her. I didn’t know how much she had heard.


“Okay,” I said in to the phone. “I’ll find him.” I hung up the phone, not wanting to speak to her in front of Malania, not really feeling as though we should have been discussing anything to begin with.


I held on to the side of the hall table for a moment to compose myself, blocking out Malania’s voice. I tried to train myself to breathe in and out. I wanted to be sick but I wanted to rejoice at the same time.


“Its okay, I’m fine,” I told Malania. “I just had a weird call about one of my old staff members.” I replied coolly. I turned around to face her. She looked worried about me. “I just have to go upstairs to my office and call Greg, its important. Do you think you can keep my mother entertained for about ten minutes?” I asked, trying to act like normal.


Malania’s eyes searched mine. “Are you sure you’re okay?”


“I promise, I just have to speak to Greg.”


“Okay. I’ll go get you some food too.”


“I’ll come down as soon as I’m done.” I kissed her forehead. As if I was ever going to be able to stomach food now.


I went upstairs and closed the door gently. I picked up the phone and dialled Greg hoping that he would be back at his office. I thought about Larry, the way he had spoken to me the last time he’d seen me. He was so urgent, panicked even. I thought about his wife in Spain… then it hit me.


His wife wouldn’t let him see the two young daughters. After his divorce she had fled back to Spain, taking her daughters in the night. There was only one reason why a father should have ever been kept away from his children in my eyes and that was if he was a danger to them.


After a few rings, Greg answered.


“Hi Greg, its me, Michael,” I said shakily.


“Hi Michael, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, how are you?”


“I don’t know…” I replied. “Listen, I had a strange call from Diane.”


“What? Michael, I hope you hung up immediately,” he told me sternly.


“Don’t lecture me Greg…it’s not the time for lecturing me, I just need to tell you what was said. It was brief and I said very little, but she called to tell me something important and… I’m … I don’t know.”


I knew Greg was irate. “Michael, I told you that you are not to talk to her, under no circumstances.”


“She told me she was wrong about me!” I exclaimed, shouting over the top of him. I drew in air. It was a struggle to breathe properly. I was trying so hard to keep the lid on a panic attack.


“She told me Casey told her it was Larry. We can’t find Larry, you said it yourself, he all but disappeared in to thin air. His ex-wife had to flee to Spain during the divorce proceedings, he said it was cos she was vindictive, but it was probably because he did something awful to his girls… we left Casey with him on occasions, it was never for too long, but probably long enough to do some awful things.” I sat back in the chair, feeling better for blurting out all the thoughts that came at me at once.


“What the hell, Michael…” Greg released a sigh of resignation. “What am I supposed to do with all that.”


“Save me…” I told him softly and meaningfully as the gravity of what loomed overhead hit me heavily as it did now and then. “Save me from this mess Greg. I don’t deserve it. I’m not guilty. You said everyone on that list today was someone that had something to say, but why didn’t you make sure Larry was found and vetted the way you did for every other male around me?”


“He had a squeaky clean record,” Greg replied simply, most people who work in such a high level of people management usually are.


“Shouldn’t you have seen his disappearance as reason to look for him? I mean, he was the closest person to me after the guards…” I wondered. “I don’t mean any disrespect, I know you are good at what you do but…”


I sighed and covered my face with my hand, I had enough of the media, the court, the rules, the lies… it was still only early days and already I’d had enough. I didn’t think I could emotionally withstand an entire trial full well knowing both Diane and myself knew I was innocent.


I could feel myself begin to get emotional. I had a lot of emotions coming at me hard and fast and I knew I needed to get off the phone.


“Let’s just see what happens, Michael, I’m reluctant to let you get your hopes up on this matter… just let me follow it up and get back to you.”


“I don’t want to have to be going through this if I don’t have to be Greg, please make it urgent…” I heard my voice crack.


He agreed with me and I hung up the phone. I tried to gather my composure. I needed to know what was going on. I knew I could barely face the others downstairs. I knew that Malania was going to know something was wrong and I didn’t think it’d help her to know that Diane had called me directly.


“Shit!” I cursed, not knowing what to do. I wished I had a pill to swallow, something to take the edge off my nerves. I opened up the door and crept down the stairs one at a time. I needed to just go for a walk. I needed to get away from everyone.


I was just opening up the front door when I heard Kaito’s voice. “Hey… where are you going bro? Is everything okay?”


I turned to face him and I knew it was all over my face. “I need to go for a walk or a drive or something, I can’t talk about it right now.”


What I loved about Kaito was his simplicity, his non-dramatic and calm way of dealing with everything. It seemed like nothing phased him. He knew when to be funny and when to be serious and when to be compassionate.


“Okay,” he replied. “I’ll take you for a drive, no security, no bullshit… I’ll let Malania and your mother know.”


“No, they’ll both get upset, they’ll want me to talk – I can’t face either of them, honestly.”


“Its fine, go wait outside and let me deal with your two main babes.”


His humour was well-timed. I managed a smile and felt blessed for his friendship.


I did as I was told and went outside.


What did this mean for me? Would someone listen to Diane and drop the case? Would the D.A continue to pursue it if they had no complainant? Perhaps it’d just look like I paid her some money to shut her up. I sighed, I still didn’t think that if the real culprit was found that my life would be able to go back to normal.


I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms and wished so hard that I had access to some pills. It was crazy how easy it was to be tempted to do something that I had truly believed and promised not to do again.


Kaito was beside me, he walked briskly to his car that wasn’t far from the main house. “C’mon, we’ve gotta roll,” he told me. I followed him without a word until I heard my name being called.


It was Malania. I winced. I didn’t want to hurt her. I stopped in my tracks. I paused for a moment to gather myself before turning around. She was coming down the stairs from the main house, two at a time. She was still wearing the black dress that she’d been wearing all day.


“Michael!” she exclaimed. I glanced up and saw my mother was in the doorway. She couldn’t move nearly as quickly as Mal. “What’s going on?”


I looked at her as she caught up with me. I looked back at Kaito who had started the car. “What are you doing?”


“I’m alright,” I told her softly despite the fact that my tenseness and my inability to communicate in the moment told her different. “I just…” I paused, “I need to go have an hour to myself.”


“Not to yourself, with my brother… Michael what happened? Ten minutes ago you were fine. What happened?”


I drew in a deep breath and rubbed my eyes. “Mal, please…” I held up my hand as she tried to touch me. “What I really want right now, is to start popping pills…” I admitted very, very quietly, “and I can’t explain how fucking terrible that feels to admit, but I just need to have an hour to compose myself, to digest some information and then I’ll come and talk, I promise…”


I knew that even she could understand that. She often needed a similar bit of space from me after a therapy appointment or after being given some information that she wasn’t happy about.


“Michael,” I dared look her in the eyes and could see them filling with tears at my admission, “please…” she murmured, “why won’t you turn to me?”


“I want to…” I let my voice trail off, “I will… I just need to breathe and get rid of these urges… I need fresh air and I don’t want you to worry, I promise I won’t do anything stupid. Kaito won’t let me.”


“Michael, please don’t embarrass me like this in front of your mother, please,” she said softly. I hated that I was making her cry. I didn’t want to make her feel humiliated. I looked back at Kaito who was expectant.


I took Malania’s face in my hands and kissed her lips softly. “Come here…” I had to put my own bullshit aside and be a man. I knew the trauma of what I had put her through only a month earlier was coming to surface. I knew she was scared for me, of what happened when I need time to digest.


I pulled her in toward my body and felt her engulf me and it felt okay. It felt like I didn’t need to run.


“What do you want to do?” Kaito asked me, calling from a short distance away.


I looked back at him while I held my girlfriend. I gave my head a little shake as if to tell him to call it off. My mother was struggling down the steps. “Mom,” I called, “Mother, stop… its okay, I’ll come up, don’t come down here.” I drew away from Malania. “Jeez…” I muttered, watching my mother straight-up ignore me.


I was about to let go of Malania to help, but Kaito beat me to it. He quickly grabbed my mother’s arm, probably having the same thought as I was. “Is everything okay?” she asked me.


“I just had a bad phone call about something someone saw on the news that made me feel sick,” I told them both. I didn’t want to worry my mother and I still wasn’t certain of how Malania would react to Diane calling me.


I put an arm around Malania. Concentrating on consoling her made me lose a little bit of my anxiety surrounding the information I’d just been given.


My mother glanced at me and at Malania and gave me a little smile. “Michael, I might send for a car, get myself home before it gets too late.”


“I could take you,” Kaito told her, “I was about to go for a drive anyway,” he smiled.


“You are an absolute gentleman,” my mother smiled back at him. I knew she loved Kaito. It was his chivalrous behaviours and the fact that he still had the British charm about him. It was genuine, he was a good person and he cared a lot about other people, I could tell that. “But its alright, I have a person who does the driving for me, thank you though.”


“You’re welcome,” Kaito replied.

End Notes:

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