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

Part 31: Did I Say Something Stupid?

June's point of view

I stood there, frozen for a few seconds, praying inside that Michael would show up soon. I knew how to handle Prince, this wasn't what my nervousness was about, I just didn't expect him to come to me this soon.

I didn't say anything, but instead turned back to the newbies who were looking at us intensely.

"God, your brains are slow! What are you waiting for? Go!" I shooed them away, and finally, they walked away.

Well, Crystal and April did.

"Do you need me? You seem uncomfortable," Caleb softly asked, leaning closer to me, a concerned look on his face.

"I'm fine, Caleb. Go, and make a name for yourself."

He kept this concerned look on his face, and narrowed his eyes at Prince before walking away as well.

Caleb is a nice boy. He's really protective over me, and really kind. Maybe too much at times, but I guess it's fine, he just wants me to like him.

Finally, I could turn back to where Prince was standing, impatiently waiting for me to shoo my newbies away.

"That guy has a crush on you," he commented, smirking. "He threw daggers at me."

I rolled my eyes, and tried to be as polite as possible, "sorry, they're the newbies. Well, a part of it," I chuckled nervously, and held out my hand for him to shake it. "Hi. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

He took my hand in his soft one, and kissed the back of it, "the pleasure is all mine," he argued, releasing my hand. "You're enven more beautiful in flesh and bones."

Lover boy.

Thank God Michael didn't hear that.

"Thank you," I simply said, putting my arm at my side again.

"You're not gonna tell me how good looking I am?" He asked, yet another smirk on his face.

I have to admit that he did look good, but he was nothing near perfection like Michael. Nothing.

His jet black hair was straightened and wild, and he had a perfectly neat three days beard that really suited him, I have to admit. Prince's face always looked like a doll's face to me: his skin is flawless.

His leather jacket and black leather pants made him look like the bad boy he was, in total oppostion with the high heels he was wearing.

I heard many times that his Royal Badness had a hard time accepting his height, and that it was still a touchy subject for him to talk about.

In about ten years, wearing heels became his trademark, and it became less talked about, for his greatest pleasure I assume.

"You don't need me to tell you that. I'm sure your harem hoes can take care of that," I smiled sarcastically.

"Oh wow, why so bitter?"

"Where's Tara?" I asked to show him where I was going with that question.

"She's somewhere with her models friend," he nonchalantly said, looking over the room. "I heard you were coming with my friend Michael."

"Your friend, yeah," I couldn't help but laugh at this. "But you heard right."

"I thought he was married," Prince tapped his chin in thought. "Is he?"

I didn't answer and stared at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Okay, I got it. Not my business," he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Exactly. So, what are you doing here?"