Partners In Crime {Michael Jackson & Ariana Grande}

[30]♡hangover♡[30]

Michael

:An Angel has always been thought

To be one of God's most precious works

I guess that's how she had you fooled

Cause she was an Angel in disguise

Hurt and pain could never come from her

So left me only to find hurt and pain involves her

But now you see your mistakes

And now you see your angel was a fake

But my love was never misplaced

See baby my love is true

And most importantly Still I Love You:

"Shall I do it again?" I asked, shuffling the deck of cards  and letting out a laugh at his shocked face, "C'mon, Lawrence, it wasn't that amusing,"

Though his mouth stayed open for a few moments like a goldfish, "You made that card appear from out of nowhere, Jackson,"

I laughed again, this time higher pitched, which caught the attention of two ladies standing in the far corner. I'd only noticed them then, but I knew they'd been looking our way.

One of them had short black hair, with a feathered headband. And the other had a blonde fringe with the same feathered theme. They weren't awful looking, but then again, they were not my type.

"Wanna stop staring, Jackson?"

"Huh?" I snapped out of my daze, earning a laugh from the table.

"Here, showdown,"

"Loser buys the next round,"

***

I was almost completely intoxicated when I stumbled through the door of my apartment, giggling to myself.

I threw my fedora to wherever, and began undressing myself, before tripping over my own feet and remaining on the floor, as the alcohol took the best of me and I passed out.

I awoke with a throbbing headache, and peeled my face from the warm floor. I couldn't remember anything from the night before, only taking that first short glass of whiskey.

I sat up, the room spinning around me, almost forcing me back down. Though I managed to clamber to my feet.

I smelt badly of alcohol, and my clothes were damp, for a reason that remains unknown.

"Dammit," I whispered, and made my way to the bathroom.

It took a few coffees and a cold shower for me to be able to function properly, and without that remedy, I probably would've passed out again. My head remained throbbing for the rest of the day, however. And it got worse when she came through the door.

"Michael, do you know the whole of the bar saw you embarrassing yourself yesterday?"

"Keep it down, I've got a headache," I groaned, falling back onto the couch and massaging my temples,

"And that's even more or a reason why you deserve to be yelled at. How could you?"

"How could I what? I don't remember anything,"

"Kiss that girl, Michael! You kissed the girl with the- the green and the feathers and the short hair, wasn't I in your thoughts?" She snapped, making my anger rise.

"Says the hooker," I murmured, quietly, I thought.

"The what?"

"I- I said sorry. I really don't remember, you know. I had lots to drink,"