The Players Baby

Chapter Sixteen

|Michael Kingston|

Ian Moore still couldn't remember things very well. He eventually remembered me, but it took a couple of weeks. Whenever I asked how he got amnesia, they always said that he got into a car accident. Hearing the real story really made me look at things a different way. I felt for November; I really did.

Speaking of, she spent the night last night, November did. She stayed in the guest bedroom and I stayed in my room. Since it was Sunday, the day was rushing by, meaning that the wedding is inching closer.

I looked at the clock, it read 11:15am. Mom woke me up a couple of hours ago, saying that we need to get everything prepared. I had a bowl of cereal sitting my lap, the spoon clinking as it hit the bowl when I heard the doorbell ring.

Standing up, I made my way to the door in my pajama pants and sweater. Once I reached the front door, I swing it open to reveal Kirstie standing on the other side.

"Well, well, well," she tutted, "if it isn't the soon-to-be husband." She smirked at me, tapping her foot on the ground and placing her hands on her hips.

I sighed, annoyed. "What do you want, Kirstie?"

She huffed, "so the rumors were true. You really have changed. You're not fun or exciting anymore; you're acting like you're thirty and already married with kids."

"There won't be any kids anytime soon. Wait - what rumors?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"Oh, so you didn't hear? Everybody knows about your wedding that's taking place tonight, Michael." She was now in my house, walking in circles around me. "I'm not going to argue with you on this, Mike, but just a warning: if you keep up with this . . . This behavior, and if you aren't the same Michael that you were last week, nobody's going to want to be friends with you, anymore. You'll move from the top of the food chain straight to the bottom. No pit stops. We don't want that, now do we, Kingston?

No one wants to be friends with a stuck up jerk. Girls will stop looking at you with adoration. Guys will stop wanting to be you. All you'll have is your looks and that stupid little bitch of a fiancé you have."

"Don't call her-"

"There you go again! Michael, listen to me, and listen closely. That girl has made you a completely different person. Either keep the girl, or keep your popularity. I'd recommend you choose wisely, you only have until tomorrow when the news had already spread like a wild fire; Michael, the former 'it' guy." She smirked, strutting out of the door and closing it behind her.

Damn, I'm not that bad, am I?

•••••••••••••

|November Smith|

I was getting tired of this feeling - the feeling of jitters in my stomach. The upcoming wedding was already getting to me and it was just barely noon. I had just been watching television in the guest bedroom of Michael's house for the past hour, my eyes watching the show on TV while my mind was elsewhere.

What if people start to judge me? After all, they are high-class.

What if I freak out halfway down the aisle, and I embarrass myself?

What if I actually do manage to embarrass myself?

Well dang.

Now I'm even more nervous than before.

My thoughts were interrupted by the rain that was pouring heavily outside. I blinked, my gaze turning towards the window. I watched the rain fall until it gave me a headache, and then I decided to go downstairs.

I slowly walked down the hallway, glancing at every few pictures frames that hung on the wall. When I passed Julienne's room I heard her screeching at someone; probably on the phone, since her and her husband seem to adore each other. That's not what caught my attention though. No, it was the voices that I overheard from downstairs. There were two voices; one I recognized to be Michael's, and the other was a female voice, which I would assume to be-

"What do you want, Kirstie?" I heard Michael sigh.

Ah, so it was Kirstie.

I hid behind a wall at the top of the stairs so that they couldn't see me from below due to the way that the house was set up.

Kirstie huffed, "so the rumors were true. You really have changed. You're not fun or exciting anymore; you're acting like you're thirty and already married with kids."

"There won't be any kids anytime soon. Wait - what rumors?" Michael asked, confusion lacing his voice..

"Oh, so you didn't hear? Everybody knows about your wedding that's taking place tonight, Michael." Kirstie's voice sounded along with the sound of footsteps against the hardwood floor. "I'm not going to argue with you on this, Mike, but just a warning: if you keep up with this . . . This behavior, and if you aren't the same Michael that you were last week, nobody's going to want to be friends with you, anymore. You'll move from the top of the food chain straight to the bottom. No pit stops. We don't want that, now do we, Kingston?

No one wants to be friends with a stuck up jerk. Girls will stop looking at you with adoration. Guys will stop wanting to be you. All you'll have is your looks and that stupid little bitch of a fiancé you have."

"Don't call her-"

"There you go again! Michael, listen to me, and listen closely. That girl has made you a completely different person. Either keep the girl, or keep your popularity. I'd recommend you choose wisely, you only have until tomorrow when the news had already spread like a wild fire; Michael, the former 'it' guy." She ended there, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoing throughout the house.

I blinked, trying to process what I just heard in my mind.

Did she just threaten him?

I really hope that this won't change his attitude towards me.

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A/n:

I feel like nobody likes this story and it's just my phone/computer telling me that I have reads and votes because it feels bad for me since you all are SO QUIET.