Bad ➰Michael Jackson

Part 2

dedicated to the people who nominated my books in the mock michael awards. You know who you are.

                                                        
Part 2

               The pillar her back was leaning on was cold and hard. Her shoulders was starting to ache with the chills that was emitting from the unresponsive cold slab and she could feel the vibration from the trains through the concrete. She was panicking—thoughts going in every direction—and forcing herself to calm down. Shaka was a complicated person. She holds onto things too much, even when the good choice would to be let go. Having known Daryl for less than a day she could see how much he meant to Max. No matter what Max was saying, or doing, or portraying, his love for Daryl was evident in his eyes. What Makes Max happy, makes her happy, so when those words flowed out of Daryl's mouth, her heart hurt for Max and tears immediately sprang to her eyes. Somehow she has to salvage things, they both lost too much to let another friend go. Even if Daryl wasn't her friend.

Making a decision, Shaka unravels herself from her crouch and stands up. Wiping at her eyes, she moves around the white pillar and strides towards Max, Daryl, Mike and Arnold. They all had various expressions on their face—Daryl's was saddened and fed up, Max was angry and irritated, Arnold was actually smirking like this was funny and Mike was just quiet, watching everyone. Her steps echo through the area as she comes closer but she's ignored by all the guys, them choosing to seize each other up then give her the time of day. Typical.

She's steps by Daryl's right side, forcing herself into the staring match him and Max were in. She chooses to stand there because she didn't like how they were currently intimidating him with their numbers—three against one never looks good.

"What are you guys doin'? Are you out of your mind Max?" Cold air passes her lips as she whispers harshly to Max, drawing his angry eyes on her. He scoffs, flipping his cap all the way to the back, turning his eyes away from her.

"What am I doin'? Ask boy-man right here—cause that's what he is apparently."

Daryl draws in a breath, looking on the verge of yelling again. "I aint no boy-man."

"Yeah, well your mammi is sayin' somethin' different." Max says in that infuriating drawl he uses on her to get her worked up.

Daryl takes a step closer and Shaka puts her hand out in front of him, stopping his movements. "Don't—you're better than this—you're both better than this!"

"He not gonna be talkin' bout my mama." A deep undertone.

"Awe, c'mon she won't mind—I mean, that's what she told me." Max tilts his head to the side as he fake contemplates. She keeps her arm in front of Daryl as he goes to attack him and steps in front of him, feeling the front of his jacket on her back.