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

Part 22: New Challenges

June's point of view

As I slammed the alarm clock on my nighstand at the second it rang, I joyfully hopped out of bed, turning the radio on, dancing all around the appartment while it was only eight in the morning. It was my first time sleeping on my own in my new home, and I had the best night of sleep I ever had. At first, it was hard for me to find some sleep, and I just kept tossing and turning for a good couple of hours before I finally fell asleep. I couldn't stop thinking about Michael and how badly I wanted to feel his arms securely wrapped aroud my waist from the moment I stepped in the shower when he left, until the moment I fell alseep. Someone once said that you know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality becomes better than your dreams, and this is true. There was a time in my life where I was longing to go to bed just because I knew Michael would be in my dreams, and that everything would be just perfect. Well, most of the time. I found myself having nightmares about him, and what could happen to him. But now, the dreams I had about him just seem to be reality, and I couldn't be happier about it.

As I was dancing around the kitchen on U Can't Touch This by MC Hammer, with nothing but my underwears on, I tried to make myself some champ's breakfast before my dancing instructor arrives. I poured myself a glass of orange juice, singing my heart out in the process, and made myself some scrambled eggs, some toasts with jam on it, all of this with a cup of black coffee.

I turned the volume up until my ears could take it, and began rapping over MC's voice while putting jam on my toasts.

"Fresh new kicks, and pants
You gotta like that, now you know you wanna dance

So move, outta your seat
And get a fly girl and catch this beat
While it's rolling, hold on –"

"Damn it!" I yelled, as my toast fell down on the floor (on the jam's side, of course). "Fuck it," I shrugged, and continued dancing and singing again, ignoring the toast on the floor for the moment.

I put my scrambled eggs in a plate, and didn't bother sitting down to have a proper breakfast. I just kept dancing around, singing with my mouth full of food. I was full of joy and excitement for this new day to start, because I knew it would be perfect at the second I'd have the chance to be with my family and with Michael. I was also excited at the idea of my meeting in Santa Barbara in the afternoon. This meeting was acutally kind of a job interview for the Nous Models agency. They offered me a job as a recruitement consultant, but also as a manager for new and young models. I really think this is something I was supposed to do after my job for Chanel. I thought about it, and I came to understand that I had to do it: relay what Karl taught me to newbies. This is what I did with Charlie, Chanel's new muse, and I was happy to do so. However, in addition to that, of course I'll found myself other things to do. Being a model has become a huge part in my life, and I love what I do. I won't stop posing or doing shows anytime near soon.

I finished my... turbulent breakfast after fifteen minutes, and I cleaned up the mess I did, including cleaning my wasted toast from the ground, and headed back to my bedroom's bathroom. I put my hair in a high messy ponytail, and began my morning routine by brushing my teeth. The radio was still broadcasting music throughout the place, and it was now Dancing On The Ceiling by Lionel Richie. I tired to sing the lyrics, but my – still awful – singing was more mumbles than acutal words, which caused me to laugh at myself while looking at myself in the mirror. I couldn't help but move my body to the beat of this song.

While brushing my teeth, I went to my walk-in closet and rummaged through my clothes to find my black yoga pants, a sports bra, a white oversized t-shirt that stopped just before my belly button, and some fresh and clean underwears. As I was about to go back to the bathroom to put my toothbrush back down, I was stopped dead in my tracks by the ringing of my doorbell. I looked at the clock that hung on the wall of my room and frowned. It was only 8:30AM, and my dance teacher was suppoed to be there at nine. I began panicking a little, and made my way to the door, but realized halfway there that I was still in my underwears. I slapped my forehead at the realization of my stupidity, and ran back to my bedroom where I fastly put my black dress from the previous night back on. I ran to the front door where the person let me know they became slightly impatient by the continuous rings on my door.