SOFT SPOILER
"I wanna marry you"
"I can't marry you"
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Michael Jackson, the worlds' largest super star known to man, gets lonely when it's bedtime.
Aliza, an upcoming artist has so much to prove to Michael as she hopes to one day compose a...
*press play above* Next Morning 6:02 AM Grand LaPlaza Hotel Aliza POV
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As I expected I'm awake and my chest feels like someone is stepping on it. It's so rainy outside. I lay here under these amazing hotel sheets and just stare at the rain against the window. Slightly gazed, slight fully aware of how awful I feel. It's my last day here before I head home. This city is taking over. I want to face my heartbreak but I haven't gained the courage. I reach over and grab my pen and notepad...
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"What did Ido? I try to hard to get you to love me. All our dreams just shattered. Where to next my love? You've entered a journey I can not join this time. I'll play the waiting game. But why must I wait in pain. To feel love, we have to be with it and go without it. That's what you told me. I believed you. One day, I will make you proud. Until next time... -Yours Truly, Aliza"
8:15 AM I go into the hotel market and it's so much chaos. As I head to the register to pay for my green tea, I see a girl screaming and running. "Good Morning Miss" "Morning" I stare through my dark shades and dry voice. "Thank you, please take a newspaper. Complimentary of the hotel for your delightful stay." "Delightful? Why thank you but I can say the least"
In my room I throw the paper on the table and drink my tea. I sit on the edge of bed. I feel the sharp pain. The ache in my heart. Gosh. Reality won't let me catch a break. I must get out of this. I grab my umbrella and storm out the room. There is so much chaos. What on earth is going on... "Hi, sir why the long line?" "Dear, our hotel has the pleasure of hosting a Mr.Michael Jackson. The hotel will undergo restrictions, please be sure to keep proper identification with you for security purposes." "Is this a joke?" "Not at all Miss" "So THEE Michael Jackson is staying here? Today? Stop it" "Indeed he is." "Okay, I'm gonna go for a walk and when I come back please have Michael greet me with flowers and a lovely note" I say sarcastically. I leave and go for a walk. Quite a sad walk. "Oh this is the place" I say to myself as I realize I'm back at the ice cream parlor. I stand in line, this time making sure I got some money. I look over at the television and the report announces an audition. "In just two weeks, the notorious Jackson family will open their doors to aspiring artist. If you believe you have what it takes, be there! Remember, check your local newspaper for more details." Oh my god. Is this real. Well of course it's real. I get out of line and run back to the hotel. Gosh, I have to prepare. I enter my room after being asked to show my identification six or seven times and go straight for the newspaper. This is my chance! God, please guide me. I sit at the table. Now regretting not getting my ice cream and I hear cheering out of the window. I look over and see a car. It didn't dawn on me what the bellman said earlier until I see him, in the flesh. Michael Jackson. Everything pauses. Silence overcomes me. Wow. It can't be. I look around for my journal. If only I could get him to listen or read my songs. My melodies from God.
*knock knock*
"Who is it" I ask as I open the door. "For you, Madam" the bellman says. He hands me a boutique of roses with a note that reads... "I couldn't let a lady walk home alone, so I followed you. Please don't think I'm a creep, just a gentlemen at its finest I'd like to say. Well, I hope you enjoy your flowers and if I'm lucky I'll meet you again. By the way did that ice cream give you gas...maybe it's just me. That's my address on the other side of card, write me. I'll be waiting." -Ben
I don't know what to make of this. But I'm flattered. Nearly blushing. Oh wow, he lives in only a few mins from here. I get out a piece of paper and begin to write "Ben, how sweet. I don't know what to say...literally! I wrote a song not too long ago-my songs are from God. Are you a believer Ben? Tell me that first and I'll consider writing you back. The roses are beautiful. Til next time" -Aliza, the flower girl.
