Cheater

Who is it?

Bernadine waited patiently for Michael, and as the door slammed, she put the nail file back on the side, and wandered out of the bathroom to meet him.
"Who was that?" She asked softly as he sighed and wiped his forehead. She noticed the redness in his face, and the frantic darting of his big eyes.
"Nobody. I've got to go down for the show in a bit, sweetheart.." Michael sighed, lying once more, and pulling his wife into a warm embrace. He gripped the living life out of her, and stuck his nose in her neck. Michael was trying to suck some of her energy up, in the hope of feeling a little less shaky.

It sounded quite heated to Bernadine, and the thought of someone angering Michael, angered her.
"Who was it? You sounded mad, baby.." Bernie sighed sadly, as Michael lifted her chin and kissed her soft plump lips.
"Hey, it was absolutely nothing. Just one of my tour managers telling me the stage isn't quite done. They're rushing it and I don't want any accidents.." He sighed. Another lie as his veins filled with that adrenaline he was becoming addicted to.

"Oh. I see. You're the boss, I guess.." Bernadine grinned, kissing his jaw, and then going to flop on the bed, "So, how many are you performing to tonight?" Bernadine asked, as Michael grinned a long with her, finding his peace in her conversation.

***
An hour before the show, Michael left a sleeping Bernadine in his bed naked, and slipped out of the room, clutching Shana's bag. He'd notified Wayne that he'd need a trip to her motel before the show, and Wayne had protested he'd be cutting it fine to get there and back.

When Michael ran up the steps, to room 322, he didn't even have to knock, because Shana had seen him coming.
"Oh look who's here!" She scoffed, as Michael offered her the bag shyly.
"Your bag, Shana.." Michael sighed as she rolled her eyes and snatched it from him, rummaging through the contents to check everything was there.

"I didn't go through it, girl!" He hissed as she laughed in his face, and wrenched the packet of pills out.
"Shana, who did you fuck?" Michael asked, that wave of annoyance came back over his face like a guard.
"I fucked one of the dancers I think. Nice body, brown hair.."
"Lewis?" Michael asked, nearly choking as Shana nodded.
"Yeah, that's his name. Is that a problem?"
"Yes it is, matter fact. You only fuck me!" Michael protested.

"Don't even play that! I know you fucked Bernadine today, all day in that damn hotel probably. Why can't I do the same?"
"She's my wife, Shana! I'm bound to make love to her.." He sighed as Shana sighed too, and dropped her hands.
"I'm sorry, I know that.." She whispered sadly, as Michael didn't dare to comfort her. It just felt wrong with his wife in the same country.
"Hear me? I'm sorry, Michael.." Shana reached out to touch him, but he stepped back, out into the night again. Shana's face changed, and she frowned, visibly hurt.

"So now your wife's in the country you can't even touch me?" She hissed angrily as Michael sighed and looked down.
"It's wrong.."
"It's wrong anyway! What's the difference now? Now you wanna be the perfect man!" Shana shouted, her voice echoing in the quiet complex. A couple birds left the trees, squawking and distressed by Shana's outburst.
"Shana, look at me. I've never said I'm the perfect man! I love my wife, is that a crime?"
"Yes, because love isn't cheating. Love isn't creeping and lying. That woman is beautiful Michael! You think she deserves this?" Shana hissed as Michael looked down.
"I don't think about her when we do this. If I did I wouldn't.."
"Exactly. You're only thinking about yourself. That's. Not. Love.." Shana hissed, slamming the door in Michael's face.

For a few seconds he stood there, staring blankly at the door, and the number 322. What just happened? Was he just cut off? Was this affair over? He didn't have time to wander, because he had a show to do in almost half an hour, and Wayne was beeping the horn to remind him of that.

***
Michael stood, listening to the roar of the crowd, and his heart began pumping. He waited behind the dark curtains as men rushed about, waiting to begin the show. He looked down at his hand, and the fingers that were wrapped in tape. He looked to his right offstage, and saw his wife, watching him in the wings, arms folded, and grinning wide.

Wasn't she beautiful? Bernie, Bernadine, B.. Her name echoed in his mind as he blew her a kiss, and she blew him one back. It was show time. It was show time.
Michael kicked out his legs and shook his arms, warming up, and adjusting the microphone set around his face.
Bernadine. Oh Bernadine. How could he gamble with their marriage for a moment of thrill?

Michael needed to stop thinking this way before a show, and so before he had a chance to clear his mind, the lights changed on stage. This was his Que..