[MJ Fanfiction] Whatever Happens (Sequel to "What Happened That Day")

Part 4: Goodbye My Lover, Goodbye My Friend

Indianapolis, Indiana, April 11th 1990

June's point of view

As I stood there, in my hotel room in Indianapolis, I took a few minutes to sit on my bed, and realize how cruel life can be. I was in Indianapolis to say my last goodbye to Ryan. This boy never deserved what happened to him. He loved animals, he loved his family, he loved his friends even though some of them turned their back at him because of his disease... He loved life. I couldn't and still can't understand why God took away his life. He must have His reasons, I told and repeated to myself, but I couldn't figure them out, and probably never will. When I learned about his passing, in the middle of the live interview I was giving to Oprah Winfrey, it took a good five minutes for me to realize what Jer told me. When I came back on set to finish the interview, my answers were not precise, not clear, and I was really off. Through the years, I learned to contain my tears, so I didn't cry in front of the cameras. I didn't cry at all, actually, but this doesn't mean I wasn't sad. I was. I was deeply hurt to hear about Ryan's passing. After the interview, Oprah came to me and asked me what was going on with me, and I explained to her about Ryan. She told me I should have told her about it before, that she would have cut the interview short, but I didn't want to. I wanted to finish the interview properly so I don't disappoint Karl. He was really looking forward to see this interview, and I knew he was watching. Unfortunately, he gave me a call after the interview, and he was angry. He said the first part of the interview was perfect, while the second part "sucked", to quote his word. I tried my hardest to explain to him what happened, but he said nothing should touch me, that I just had to carry on with my life no matter what happened to people around me. He tried to make me understand that the only thing that matters is myself and my career, but I'm not this kind of girl. I've been selfish once, and it was with Michael: look where it brought me. I can't risk being selfish again, and I won't. I don't care if Mr. Karl Lagerfeld says it himself, I won't, period.

As time was passing by, I had to get prepared for the funerals. I hated funerals since my dad's, but I needed to do this to be I peace with myself, and being able to say goodbye to Ryan one last time. While I was curling my hair with the iron, I played over and over again Ryan's visit to my place in Paris. I remember him calling me at this time in my life where I was at my worst, asking me to meet him while he was in Paris with his mother. I invited the both of them to my place, because I couldn't go outside: the paparazzi would have tracked us, and I didn't want them to go through this. I remember his face when he came in my condo: this angelic, and always-smiling face with this hopeful and sympathetic look he gave me. He was on vacation in Paris with his mother, and the first thing he wanted to do while in Paris was checking up on me, he explained to me. I remember him cheering me up, while I should have been the one cheering him up. He was the one who was going to end up dying in a small amount of time, but as kind and caring he was, he always made sure people felt good before his own well-being. He was adorable. We spent the day together, and he told me Michael and I will found our way back to each other because we were meant to be. It was more obvious for him than it was for me. I remember him teasing me by saying that Michael and I wouldn't stay appart for so long, because evrytime he saw us, we were apparently all over each other. The thoughts of this moment brang tears in my eyes, but I fought the urge to cry by telling myself that Ryan was in a better place now: no more fight, no more pain. He was going to live in peace, and this is all that mattered for me.

I slipped on a black laced dress which Karl sent me for the occasion, and put on simple black high heels on. I took a quick glance at myself in the mirror, took my clutch and put my shades on before leaving the room. My one and only personal bodyguard, Eric, was waiting for me outside my suite, and he accompained me to the elevator.

"Is there a lot of people outside?" I asked him, looking up at him.

This guy is even bigger than Pit, and I think Pit is like 6"8. I swear, he's huge, but I feel really safe walking down the street with him by my side.