Offstage || MJ

Offstage || Chapter 35

Author's Note: She's back...again! These next few chapters go out to all my diehard "Black Rose" fans. New readers, please let me know if you have any questions. Otherwise, enjoy some fictional tea from arguably the best character I've ever written for Michael. 

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January 1989 – American Music Awards (California)

BRENDA

"Thank you for very much, Eddie Murphy. First, I'd like to thank God, who makes all things possible..." Michael leaned toward the microphone while holding the award. Craig and I sat right next to each other in the audience. My engagement ring sparkled as we held hands and faced forward. Onstage, Michael giggled alongside Eddie Murphy during his acceptance speech. I smiled with my fiancé between the cheers and laughter. Otherwise, I couldn't wait for the night to end.

I squeezed Craig's hand tightly while faking one more grin. Before long, I quietly debated confronting Michael this evening. In the morning, Jackson shamelessly called through my brand-new publicist and launched this rant about Charlene. For whatever reason, I didn't immediately hang up at first.

According to Jackson, drama ensued after I mailed a wedding invite to him. In one way or another, he wanted to call a truce with Charlene by bringing her along. I rolled my eyes and finally hung up this time. I'd had enough of foolishness. This evening, I'd confront him. No turning back. Craig would leave in a limousine to give me space. When the ceremony ended, and I offered a kiss for his cheek, he soon walked off with security guards.

I found Michael during an afterparty. He seated near the exit door and sloshed ice water in a glass. Bass rumbled underneath my heels as expected. "Can't Stop" by After 7 pulsed. I grinned between steps as well-known faces noticed me. The train of my black dress almost glided along this other jam-packed but widening floor. I nodded to hopefully gain more acknowledgment. Between this dim lighting, I sat down at the peeking top of my dress for a moment.

Michael stopped sipping long enough to notice my presence. This man nearly froze. Jackson then passed the icy glass to a server and stood up moments later. I didn't know what to think of his anxious movements. 

Awkward silence haunted us between musical transitions. Around us, fellow celebrities still mingled. I stuck out my tongue at George Michael for a moment, simply joking. We'd soon interact if Michael left me the hell alone. To be honest, everyone knew that George could sing his ass off, regardless of race.

Now, the party picked right back up. A Heavy D tune started booming. In that moment, I hated this dress and wanted to lace up my sneakers. A good shuffle across the floor would've improved my temper greatly right now. The bass rumbled loud enough to course through my soul. I hadn't danced in quite a while since last year. My album "Rollercoaster" didn't fare well enough. I couldn't even tour abroad, regardless of the late-night circuit fame.

Still, I knew better and concentrated on awestruck Michael. This man shook out of his daze and we finally hugged. Even a friendly kiss on the cheek followed. I understood the kindness given our surroundings. Yet, my thoughts hadn't changed at that point. We shared the usual greeting and I soon congratulated him on the award.

"Look, I'm sorry about the wedding drama. She doesn't want to go with me." Michael lowered his eyes. I didn't even feel terrible. Based on his rant this morning, I didn't even believe the apology now. What decent man trailed dirty laundry to another person like that? I'd excused myself from a wedding planner meeting just to answer the phone call. Of course, Craig wasn't happy, either.

"Just go by yourself. I'm not helping you." I snipped back. A glass of wine and bubble bath called my name. Just when I planned to call up more security and leave, Michael spoke up once more. I cut my narrowed eyes toward him. Anger coursed through my heart for the millionth time. Once again, Michael frustrated me.

"I'm trying to get her attention, girl. Why don't you understand that?" Yet, Mike wouldn't storm out. We dealt with the awkward silence once more. Music continued booming around us and I disputed leaving him for a drink. Like I said, wine called my name to calm down. I refused to light up in the parking lot when stressed these days. Unless extremely pissed in one way or another.

"You can't force anyone to be with you." I quickly respond, more annoyed. Jackson stood his ground, but kept humble space between us. I didn't know what to think once more. His brown eyed stare wouldn't intimidate me. No matter what. A completely different song echoed in this place, but I didn't even care.

"Says the woman who slept with Prince for three years. Damn. Have some self-respect, Baby Girl. He always cheats on women. You probably don't even love your fiancé." Michael folded both arms. I could've easily slapped him, but refused for obvious reasons. I didn't want one more dreadful headline to circulate in the morning.

"You don't know me." I almost pointed into Michael's chest. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have someone waiting at home. You better call with an RSVP next week or don't come at all. I don't need your drama."

"You've already seen it before." Michael whispered under his breath. I dropped my jaw after turning around. Jackson wasn't talking about Charlene this time.

We both knew it.