Coming into the studio the next morning I felt a lot better (tons of cough medicine and dayquil were my best friend that night!) Michael on the other hand looked absolutely sick as a dog. Maybe it was perhaps karma? I couldn't help the little wicked smile I wore now and then on my features as I watched him cough and sneeze. It seemed like he had gotten the same cold I had, only worse. At one point, Michael rushed out from the recording booth claiming he needed 'a break'. It was actually because he had thrown up in the garbage can out in the hallway. "Quick listen bam" I heard Quincy whisper as he turned down the track music. Sure enough, the sound of Michael coughing and gaging could be heard loud and clear. After 20 minutes of releasing his stomachly fluids, Michael finally resurfaced back in the studio, looking like some sort of zombie extra from thriller. Quincy and I looked up from the controls. "Damn smelly! You look horrible!" I giggled, looking down at the notebook in my hands. "Oh so you think this is funny huh big bird?" Michael said, coughing as he glared over at me. I quickly cleared my throat. "No not at all Michael" "Jackson" "Excuse me?" I knew what his last name was....the hell? "Mr. Jackson. that's what you'll call me from now on, not Michael" Michael barked, blowing his nose in some tissue. Who the hell does he think he is?! "How'd you even get sick?" Quincy chipped in, trying to change the subject. Letting out a tired sigh, Michael rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Tati's been sick for a few days now.....probably got it from her" That's right. I forgot he was dating Tatiana Thutzban now. She was big in the modelling industry. Sure, I thought she was pretty but I always thought his previous girlfriend, now ex, actress Brooke Shields was much prettier but who am I to judge? "Oh okay I thought maybe bambi might've given it to you" Quincy joked, nudging my shoulder. Michael shook his head, a look of pure disgust on his features. "Yeah right! I'm not even close enough to her on a daily basis to get sick....and I definitely don't plan on being anytime soon" he said and I felt hurt all over. Here we go again....Ugh why did he have to be such a jerk to me all the time?! I did absolutely NOTHING to deserve it! Not being able to take it anymore, I stood up from my chair, slamming my yellow notebook down on the table. I looked Michael straight in the eye as I calmly said "Go to hell Michael" The studio had gone silent. I could tell Quincy was trying hard with all his might not to laugh at my little sudden outburst of confidence. Michael however, looked like he was gonna slap the shit outta me. "You don't talk to me like that you bird! Somebody needs to teach you how to respect older people! WHAT ARE YOU STUPID OR SOMETHING!!!!" Michael yelled and I swear that last part triggered something to release in me. I snapped. "FIRST OF ALL...." I yelled right back, so angry I started to see red. "Jackson I DO respect older people! I have TONS of respect for Quincy but you?! Please! You act like such a freakin annoying brat! Always whining and complaining! I'm 8 years younger than you for crying out loud yet I'm MUCH MORE mature than you'll EVER be so don't come at me with that bullcrap. Second of all, I HAVE A NAME!! It's Hazel or is that too hard for your brain to register? HAAA-ZEEEEL! H. A .Z .E .L STOP calling me big bird because I FUCKING HATE IT!!!" I felt the tears sting my eyes but refused to let them fall. Quincy stared at me, his eyes wide with surprise but also admiration because I had finally stood up for myself. Michael looked angrier than before if that was even possible. He was PISSED. He had taken a few steps towards where I stood. "Listen you little bi-" Michael started to say but his speech was cut short by a loud gurgle followed by screams from Quincy and I as I saw the warm thick liquid spill out like a fountain, soaking into my jeans, my white long sleeved shirt and multi colored scarf. I looked down in horror, staring at the freshly vomit that had just came from Michael's mouth. I can't believe he had actually thrown up on me. "Seriously Michael?!" Quincy angrily yelled, getting up. He reached for some paper towels. I put my hands up, shaking a bit because they were covered in it as well. Just great. "It's fine. I'll just uh, go to the bathroom" I said, embarrassed as I took off running out in the hallway and into the girls bathroom, locking myself in and crying. The smell was unbearable and it literally had gotten EVERYWHERE. Ugh why couldn't he have just ran out and headed for the stupid garbage can?! And this was a brand new scarf too! As I cleaned myself up (took almost an hour), I almost got sick because it was so disgusting. I had brought my backpack in the bathroom with me. Inside of it was a pair of extra pyjamas (this was because I remembered Quincy saying how there might be some times we'd have to stay overnight in the studio in order to finish up the remaining tracks for the album) My pyjamas consisted of a pair of grey cotton shorts and my favorite pink hello kitty t-shirt I had gotten from Tokyo, Japan. After getting dressed, I placed the other ruined clothes in a garbage bag. I put my hair up in a bun and tucked my glasses in the v neck of my shirt. While walking back into the studio room I couldn't help but notice how unbelievably silent it was. Where was Quincy? "Hello?" I called out, setting my backpack on the floor. There was a note left on the table. Picking it up, I read it:'Hey Bambi! Listen, I know you're probably still cleaning up in the bathroom and once again I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. Believe me when I say I had a real good chat with Michael. He promised me he wouldn't bother you anymore. Honestly I don't know what the hell's his problem. If anything, I heard on the down low that him and Tatiana are having issues right now, hence why he's been acting like such an ass to you. I would've stayed longer but my wife called. There was a family emergency with one of my girls Rashida so I had to leave immediately. I have no idea where Michael is though. He was gone before I left but anyway sorry I couldn't stay! We'll work on the other tracks first thing tomorrow morning! If you leave, Don't forget to lock up the studio or you can stay the night. There's a couple of beds in the back room. Hope you're still having fun as an intern so far! -Q' I smiled, setting the note back down on the table, looking around in the empty studio. It wasn't until that moment I realized just how huge this studio actually was. In the corner of my eyes there sat a beautiful piano. I felt the sudden urge to touch the black and white keys. It had been years since I've last played. I never really told anyone about my hidden talent because I was too shy. I took a seat at the little bench, closed my eyes and let my fingertips caress the ivory keys into a familiar melody that I had loved ever since I was a child. "Lookin in my mirrrrror.....took me by surpriiiiise.....I can't help but see yooou, running often through my miiiiind....Helpless like a babyyyy....." I sang softly, letting the chords I was playing take me into another world. People have always said I could sing really well but I never truly believed it. By the time I finished the chorus of the song, getting to the 'I can't help it, if I wanted to' part I had the strangest feeling another presence was in the room, watching. I hesitantly turned around on the bench. To my surprise and horror the LAST person I wanted to see was leaned up against the wall, his arms crossed, staring at me. I nervously swallowed, my heart racing in my chest. Would he have me fired for playing his precious piano? Damn I forgot this piano was HIS and I remembered him saying how not under any circumstances was I allowed to touch it. Did he hear me singing too? Was he gonna make fun of me....again? What the hell was he still doing here anyway?! I thought Quincy said he had already left! And WHY was he in his pyjamas too?! Oh hell to the no I hope he didn't think he was gonna spend the night here! "M-Mr. Jackson I can e-explain" my voice stuttered. Smirking, Michael strolled towards me, his arms still crossed. "I-I'm sorry for playing your piano. I know I should've asked first....." I lamely apologized, feeling like an idiot. Michael put his hand up, silencing me. "Stop" he demanded, his voice surprisingly calm. "That song....." he started. "Play it again....."