Don't Walk Away (A Michael Jackson Love Story)

Chapter 2: You Again

The nausea hit me again. I rose from the bed and staggered to the bathroom. I almost didn't notice that someone was already bent over the toilet. Making a last-minute decision, I leaned over and threw up into the shower.

I rinsed my mouth in the sink, feeling a whole lot better.

"Did you just puke in the shower?" the other person in the bathroom asked. I turned and saw the man from last night. He didn't look at me. He was too busy clutching the sides of the toilet bowl.

"Yeah. Sorry, the toilet was occupied." I managed a weak laugh.

The guy stood up slowly. He wavered on his feet as he faced me.

I gasped. "No."

I recognized that face immediately, as much as I'd tried to forget it.

He blinked in shock. "Lily, I had no idea," he whispered.

"Michael. It's fine. We were both completely wasted," I said. "You weren't as good as I remember either."

Something about him was different. His hair was a little looser, in a new jheri curl. But that wasn't all...

"Your nose," I blurted out without thinking.

Michael's face flushed. "Yeah, I know."

I reached out and touched his nose. "What'd you do?" I wondered.

"I got another nose job," he answered quietly.

"You were handsome with the first one, and even before that," I assured him. "But you still look good."

Mike pulled my hand off his face. "Thanks." There was an awkward silence for a second.

"Are you leaving?" he questioned suddenly.

"Well, I have a hotel room too. I can't just abandon it," I pointed out.

"I miss us."

"Me too. I, uh, bought your album. Triumph. It's amazing."

Mike smiled. My heart skipped a beat. "I left all your work on it," he said.

"If we're going to have a discussion, let's get out of the bathroom," I interrupted. I led him out into the main room. We sat down in two lounge chairs by the window.

"So what've you been up to?" Michael tossed a towel to me, bringing to my attention that I was still nude. I covered myself up and crossed my legs.

"Dancing. I've been all over the world in the past couple years. It's tiring," I sighed.

"Tell me about it," Mike laughed.

"There's rumors in the magazines about you working on a new album. Is that just more tabloid lies?"

"You read stories in the tabloids about me, but you didn't know what I looked like?" he asked incredulously.

I looked down. "I-I ripped them out before I read anything," I admitted.

"Oh. Yes, I'm working on it. I feel like this is gonna be better than Off the Wall," Michael said. "I quit the Jacksons after Triumph so I could focus on this."

"You seem freer than you were last time I saw you," I observed. "My parents moved back to Colorado, by the way. That's why I didn't go back to my house after I left here. I didn't want to live alone with the caretaker. It's still mine, though."

"Are we friends again?" Mike picked a piece of lint from his shirt.

"I knew something like this would happen," I muttered. "Of course. You're my best friend."

"I lov--" Michael cut himself off. He just shot up to his feet and hugged me.

I breathed deeply, inhaling his cologne. "We need to take it slow," I explained. "I almost killed myself after I left."

"I'm going to stop with the alcohol," Mike promised. He entangled his fingers of one hand in my hair. "I've become such a horrible person."

"No, you're so kind. All those things you do for charity...you're wonderful." I pulled back.

"Thank you," he murmured. Very gently, he moved his hand to the back of my neck. I knew that look in his eyes. I braced myself as he kissed me.

It wasn't as passionate as I remember, but it was sweet. I felt myself slipping back into the trance of helpless love.

I pushed Michael back by the chest. "Okay, I said let's take it slow. That's not exactly what I meant."

Mike bit his lip. "Sorry. Got carried away. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I suppose."

"Boy, you better turn the lust down. That's not happening for a while." I poked his chest.

"It happened last night," he teased.

I blushed. "I couldn't even see straight. You could've been the sleaziest guy in the entire club. Don't push your luck. You passed out before you finished."

Michael rolled his eyes. He threw my clothes at me. I slipped them on quickly. "Really sloppy performance last night," I continued. "My other one night stands were way better than that." I froze. What did I just say?

Mike frowned. "Y-you had sex with other people?"

"Yes. Only a couple times in two years. I have needs too." I stopped the conversation by walking over to the other side of the bed to retrieve my purse.

Michael blocked the door when I went to open it. "No. Stay. We should catch up some more." He used his deeper, husky voice. I knew he wanted more than just more talking.

"I gotta go back to my hotel room. All my stuff is there," I objected.

"You don't have to leave right now," he argued. I felt his hand wrap around my wrist and had a brief vision of a similar scene two years ago.

I recoiled from his grip. "Okay, I'll stay." I settled on the bed, my back against the headboard.

"Where were you living?" Michael continued with the re-cap of our lives--or rather, my life. I read all about his despite trying to cut myself off completely.

"All over. I had a loft apartment in Chicago, but I sold it."

"I'd been at Hayvenhurst when I wasn't traveling."

I looked around the room. "Is that a TV?" I asked.

"Yep. They're in the deluxe suites now. I don't really use it." Michael shrugged.

"Why don't we just watch cartoons like we used to?" I climbed off the bed to the floor and turned it on. Some animated show was playing. I sat with my legs crossed.

Mike joined me. He pressed close to me and hummed along to the theme song. I smiled, feeling like a 12 year-old again.