Her Name Was Rose *Mj Fanfic*

Hell/The Press Conference

"What did you ask me? Did you just ask me if I was still interested in doing a duet with you? After how you treated me?" Michael scoffs on the other line.

"Look I'm sorry about that okay, I was already exhausted and when I get tired I get cranky alright? Now do you want to do it or what?"

"Not with that attitude."

*click!*

Did... Did he just hang up on me?

I dial his number again. No answer. Oh so he wants to play games huh ? Alright.

I get up and throw on some clothes, put on a wig and some sunglasses and get in my car. Hopefully no one notices me through this disguise.

I park my car in the back of the hotel and luckily someone's coming out of the side entrance so I slip inside without being noticed.

Pretty soon I'm back where I was just twelve hours before but this time nobody's around.

If he doesn't want to talk to me on the phone, he better get ready for this surprise I have in store for him.

*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG*

I didn't give two shits at how loud I was banging the door, he fucked up by hanging up on me.

The door swings open and he does not look happy.

"What the hell!" He whispers. I walk past him and put my bag on the dresser, and look through his room.

"They couldn't give you a bigger room? This is the size of my cleaning closet." I say, turning my nose up.

"Why are you here Rose?" An annoyed Michael asks.

"You hung up on me and we didn't finish our conversation. I thought it was rude how you just cut me off like that." I pout, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"Well you deserved it. You wanna be rude, fine. Two can play at that game." He shrugs, walking around me to the refrigerator. "Want a drink?"

"Martini. Straight up."

"I have water."

I look at him with a twisted face, then accept the water and sit down on the chair by the patio.

"You don't drink much huh?" I ask.

"Not really. I prefer water, or orange juice. Once in a while I'll have wine."

We sit in silence for a moment and then Michael speaks up.

"So, you want to do a duet huh? The queen finally needs a king." He winks.

I roll my eyes in disgust and stand up to look outside. It's a nice night out, the city is still alive with the lights and nightlife. It's peaceful to me.

"Never do I need a king. I was able to rule on my own, I just thought it would be nice to show the world what it would be like to have the biggest entertainers sing together."

He laughs, laying down on his bed. He's shirtless, and wearing pajamas with Bart Simpson all over them. "Just admit it, you saw the reports on you, you know they're true, and now you need something to get you back on top."

Shit. How did he know?

"I'm sorry, but you dug yourself into this hole. You need to get yourself out. If you haven't had treated me the way that you did I may have helped you. But I'm not. I believe this is what they call karma?" He pauses and looks at my face, and I'm red with anger. "Aw. Is the princess mad because she didn't get what she wanted? Aw poor baby."