Wrong Body

11. Explain

Layla was rushed into the car with Michael on her heels, Sydney got caught up speaking to the backup dancers so she stayed behind. Layla was patting her face and neck dry with a towel.

"What made you think of the microphone?" Michael stared out of the window.

Layla rolled up the partition, almost forgetting that the driver could hear.

"It hit me like a truck today. I wasn't even sure it was going to work at first, but I figured that it was worth a try." She smiled.

"What about the choreography? Did you learn that just this morning too?"

Layla sighed, "It seemed like endless nights of binge watching your previous shows. Your body has infinite stamina, but my mind was so exhausted. Certainly not the way I wanted to spend my weekend."

Michael smiled and patted her shoulder, "Thank you."

"You're thanking me? For what?"

"You could've refused to do anything and cancel my whole tour. You could've blown all of my money by now but you choose to listen to what I want." Michael laid his head back to rest.

"You could ruin my life just as easily as I can ruin yours, and I really don't want to piss the whole world off and stress you out by having to deal with it later. I want to try my best for you Michael, you're a very nice guy. It wasn't your choice to put all of this on my shoulders," Layla looked out of the window.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Hm?" Layla looked back at him.

"Performing. Did you feel it?" Michael looked back at her.

"It was so crazy, its like I could feel every single person's adrenaline running through my...well your veins. It was such a high," Layla sighed.

"I'm glad. Maybe you found a new passion," He closed his eyes.

"Michael?"

"Yes?"

"I still don't really...know much about you."

"What are you talking about? Like my favorite color? Its red." He turned his head.

"No not like that. I mean about your childhood and things. You told me you'd eventually tell me about it." She played with the towel.

He looked down at his lap and played with his fingers, "Not tonight. If you haven't really caught on, its not my preferred topic to make conversation about."

"Why not?"

He chuckled, "Growing up in the business with a man who I'd call my manager before I'd call him my father who abused me isn't exactly sunshine and ice cream for me to speak about."

Layla's eyes darted to him. She didn't know what to say to that. She tried to read his emotions, but all she got was a pokerface from him, he didn't break eye contact with his hands.

"Awkward now isn't it?" he whispered.

The car stopped, they arrived at the hotel they were staying in for the night. Layla and Michael were sharing a room, and as they walked a word wasn't spoken. They went inside and Michael ran the hot water for her to take a bath. She took notice.

"Why a bath and not a shower? Its faster." She took her shirt off.

"I'm going to tell you everything." He put his hands behind his back.

"Michael if you don't want to talk about it I'm not going to force you to. I'm sorry for opening up the topic like that I really didn't know," she sighed.

"No it's okay, I understand that you want to know. After all, it looks like we'll be stuck with each other for some time. Might as well lay everything out on the table to know what we're dealing with."