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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.

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