Athena Tyler is an Italian-American musician who rose to fame as the lead singer of a girl band with her sisters, called 'Sorelle'. She has amassed millions of dollars and now lives alone in a luxurious mansion. Although she no longer sings, she has...
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THE NEXT DAY
Without wasting a moment, Michael hung up the phone call he was on and made his way to the hotel room, his heart pounding in his chest. As he stepped inside, he saw Athena in the kitchen with a glass of iced tea in her hand.
Michael ran his hand through his hair in frustration as he watched her gracefully move around the kitchen for a while. Eventually, he quietly groaned and decided to haul her over his shoulder like a damsel in distress.
"Hey! You asshole, put me down!" Athena exclaimed in protest, "What do you think you're doing?! You think just because you're Michael Jackson that you can do whatever the hell you want?! What the fuck—"
But before Athena could finish her sentence, Michael spun her around and crashed his lips onto hers in a passionate kiss. Athena's initial shock quickly melted away as she wrapped her arms around him, reciprocating the intensity of the moment.
When they finally pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, Michael looked deeply into Athena's eyes, "I can't believe you would take something like that without talking to me! Do you even know how worried I was last night?!"
Athena glared, "Don't lecture me about talking when you are the worst at communication!"
"I can't believe you would willingly dance with another man for a music video!" Michael exclaimed.
"I didn't do that, nor do I plan to!" Athena glared as she crossed her arms in defense, "And even if I did, it wouldn't be much different to your upcoming music videos with Naomi and Iman, now is it?"
"Oh, forget that!" Michael widened his eyes, "I don't want to dance with Naomi and I certainly don't want to kiss Iman!" he blurted out, frustration evident in his voice, "The thought of being even remotely close to another woman makes me uncomfortable! And the idea of you dancing in a similar manner with another man—I don't like it! I don't want another man's hands on you, Athena. You're mine!" Michael declared, his voice firm with possessiveness.
"Uh....can I say—?" Athena tried, only to be cut off by her husband.
"I don't want his hands on you, I don't want his lips anywhere near yours, and I certainly don't want him pressing his crotch against you in some obscene display of sexual tension!" Michael's words were heated, his eyes blazing with a mix of protectiveness and jealousy as he screamed in frustration, "I don't want another man near you! And I'm not dancing with Naomi! I'm not kissing Iman! The only person I'm pressing my crotch against is you, Athena! And the only person I'm kissing until the day I leave this earth is you! You're my queen, you freaking goddess!"
"Michael—"
Michael interjected once again, "Your body is mine, just as much as my body is yours. We belong to each other, and I'll be damned if I let anyone else lay a finger on you! I don't care who it is!"
