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August 17, 1993
Michael and Calista were about to begin their second leg of the tour in Asia, but were quickly held up when Michael was accused of molesting a child at the Neverland Ranch. Of course, Calista didn't believe is— for he was the father of her children and she knew how purely he interacted with the children.
Michael had been scheduled to be investigated by the police on that specific day. He knew that the investigators would investigate every little thing they could to match the child's descriptions or claims and to be able to familiarize themselves with the celebrity— even if that meant invading his privacy.
Michael had pleaded for Calista to leave with the kids, but Calista was aware of police brutality against people of color— and she refused to leave Michael alone with the authorities. Though, she did send the children off to Mrs. Katherine's house.
The officers had arrived and instantly wanted to check Michael's body. Specifically his private areas, which angered Calista and embarrassed Michael. "You can't do that!" Calista exclaimed, grabbing Michael's arm before he went off to obey the officers' dehumanizing orders.
"I sure can, and I have a search warrant that proves it." One of the many officers waved the piece of paper in the air.
Calista began to charge at them but they all placed their hands on this guns, causing her to flinch and retreat. Michael shook his head sadly at her and walked into the bathroom. Calista followed him in there, her palms sweaty and breath shaky.
The moment the two entered the bathroom, Calista hugged Michael. It was traumatizing to have to watch her fiancée go through such an event, she could only imagine how much worse it was for him. He had been ripped of his innocence, of his child like qualities that made him connect so well with kids. He could never be himself again.
Michael began to sob quietly and Calista placed her forehead on his. She allowed a few hateful years fall down her face. "Why do I have to be so... different from everybody?" Michael spoke softly.
Calista squeezed him. "Don't you ever say that again," she scolded, "you're differences make you Michael fucking Jackson. You would have never revolutionized the entire entertainment industry if you weren't different."
Michael wiped away a tear. "This is so embarrassing." He admitted.
Calista looked deeply into his eyes. "That's why I'm here for you, that's why I am going to stay by your side at all times and hold your hand until they're finished. If they try anything, I'll kill them all—"
Michael cringed. "Don't say that." He looked down to the floor.
Calista sighed. "Fine, but I'll be sure they won't hurt you."
"I should be protecting you instead of you protecting me." He sucked in a sharp breath.
"We should be protecting each other. That's what a couple does." Calista corrected, pecking his lips rapidly.
Michael began to sob again. "You'll probably never want to have anymore kids with me." Tears slips past his eyes quick than the speed of light.
Calista lifted his chin so that their eyes could meet again. "Of course I will." Calista furrowed her brows at Michael disappointedly. She was shocked that he would think such things because she loved him too much not to.
Michael moved Calista's head onto his shoulder. "I love you."
"I love you more." Calista's tears managed to escape past her eyes. Following their exchange, Calista left Michael alone so that he could take care of whatever dehumanizing business he had to do to prove his innocence.
