Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston

I Hate You

Whitney POV

Michael walked me to the door with Ms. Attitude in his arms. All day she's been crying, screaming...its freakin annoying. She so stubborn and nosey. Michael says she gets it from me. I told him to f*ck off. I hoestly don't belive I'm like that. I just have a strong perspnality. Don't get me wrong, if I have to curse a Bitch out, I woulld. I may look nice in pics and shit but I can get crazy. Everyone's had a taste of it before. That's why I sing. It's like venting. Dancing makes me feeling weird. I slow dance with Michael sometimes but other than that, I don't dance.

"Jasmine, Mommy loves you. Mommy loves you." I puckered my lips so she can kiss me. She really doesn't.

Jasmine looked at me, waved her arm and hit my face. Michael laughed and bounced her.

"I'm sick and tired of ya Bitch ass attitude." I growled playfully. 

"What time you comng home?" Michael asked. He moved hair off my face.

I picked up his hands and rubbed circles on the back of it. "Maybe eight. Not that long."

"Okay." He kissed me." I love you, baby."

"I love you."

I open the door and began walking down the pavement. Earlier I had Ben park the car in front of the house so I won't have to walk all the way the garage.

"Whoa!" Michael called.

"What?" I turned around.

"You're driving?" His eyes grew big.

I blow a kiss. "Bye, Michael."

I get in the vehicle. I put the key in the ignition and start it. I see Michael still standing in the doorway with a anxious expression. I pull off wih one last smile.

*

The studio was hot. I took off my jacket and shoes in order to try and cool down. I started barking for the AC to turn on. Cindy and myself sat at the panel.

"Whitney, how are you?" Cindy asked me.

"I'm good." I nodded with a smile.

"Your hubby?"

"Good."

"Jasmine?"

"Bad as hell." I smiled again. "So what do you have in mind?"

"You need to get back I'm the studio. You've been holding off this album for months now."

"Okay. You couldn't say this on the phone?" I asked.

"Well, I want you to check out some lyrics." She said reaching into her suit case.

There was a knock on the door and Jeffrey, a guard, came in. "Excuse me, ladies but someome is here to see Mrs. Jackson."

"Okay. I'll step outside." Cindy stood.

Cindy and Jeff both exited the room and I rolled my chair to wear the stack of lyric sheets were piled. Just as I was about to read em,  my guest walked in. I put on a smile but when I saw who I was I nearly threw up.

"What in the f*ck are you doing here?" I said.

"I heard you went to rehab. Congrats on that."

"Why are you really here?"

"Okay. I know you're pissed. You have every right to be. I'm sorry for the mess I caused."

"Okay. Leave."

"If you would've just giving me a chance then maybe-"

"So you gave me dope so I can be yours?"

"I may have had a partner."

"Fool wha are you talking bout?" I put my hands on my hips. I ignored his statement.

"Whitney, I've wanted you for a very long time. I was planning on asking you out but you fell into Michael. That broke my heart. Then you married him. Whitney, he doesn't care. Baby Be Mine."

"Don't ever quote or say a title of any of his songs. And if he didnt care then he wouldn't have put up with my bullshit all these years."

"Have my baby."

I lost conttol and smacked him. He backed up and held his face.

"For a lady, you hit hard."

"Leave. Please." I said.

He held up his hands. "Fine. But I'll call you soon."

I walked Bobby to the door and he stopped. Have his baby? What the what? He must be out of his rabid ass mind. I already have a pain in the ass at home. Plus, I can't see the outline so that means its a shrimp. My thoughts were interrupted by a pair of unfamlier lips.

I pushed him back and blew saliva in his facs. He recoiled and wiped his face and smiled. Me on the other hand was wiping my lips. I screamed.

"Get out now! NOW! I hate you!"

Bobby waked out but called, "I love you!"

-Whitney girl u cray cray