Have you ever wondered what would Michael Jackson's life look like if some events didn't happen to him? If he had someone he trusted by his side through everything? Someone that had the power to save him from his tormented life?
Hayley "Brit" Thame...
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I played with the rim of my glass of wine as the ringing tone of my phone made me nervous. I didn't know if what I was doing was the right thing to do, or if it would be the one thing leading me to Michael. There was a road among many others that I needed to take that would lead me to him and his privacy, and I needed to choose the right one.
My hands were sweating hard, and my heartbeat seemed to go faster as the ringing sound kept stressing me out.
It was almost ten in the evening, and I had no idea what went through my mind to call at such a late time. What if Michael thought it was rude to call this late? What if I messed everything up because I was eager to feel him close again, and to have this feeling of completeness when he is talking to me? Would my selfish actions ruin everything?
"Hello?" a sweet voice I instantly recognized as Michael's answered the phone.
In a panic, I put the phone right back on its hook, hanging up on him. As I realized my foolish actions, I covered my face with both of my hands, insulting myself in the worst ways possible.
"I'm a fucking disaster. Bitch what's your fucking problem?!" I yelled at myself like a crazy woman, as I started pacing the kitchen's floor.
I was so awkward at times, it was not even funny. Some people may think that I'm such a polite and down-to-earth kind of girl, but in reality, I'm an awkward mess when I feel intimidated. And Michael intimidates me so much that it's not even an option to be awkward with him. It's an obligation.
"Okay, okay. I got this. I wasn't a mess around him earlier, why would I be a mess on the phone with him, huh?" I asked myself.
I breathed in and breathed out a couple of times, and took the phone back in my hands, and composed the number again. I poured myself another glass of wine, and drank a big sip of it, waiting for someone to pick up again.
"Who's this?" Michael asked after the first ring tone, and I almost choked on my beverage. "Hello?"
"Mr. Jackson—I mean M—Michael, hello again. This is Dr. Thames, uh Hayley Thames? From UCLA? I'm sorry to call this late, but I--"
"Oh, Dr. Brit, hello," he greeted, and I could hear the smile in this sweet voice of his. I smiled at the use of my nickname in his mouth. "I'm glad you called. Frank told me you seemed pretty busy today."
"I was--It was a very long day, yes, sir," I verified.
Just hearing his voice soothed my mind. It's like, when he was around, every question, every worry I had vanished away. My mind was at peace whenever I had the chance to talk to him, and it was the very first time I ever felt that in twenty eight years of existence.
"Am I making you uneasy?" he innocently asked, and I mentally slapped myself for being such an awkward person.
"Oh uh, no, not at all! I just thought someone would pick up the phone for you, I didn't expect you to be the one picking up," I half lied.
