Behind The Mask

Chapter 23

Michael’s POV

“Am I still needed here?” I ask my lawyer for the hundredth time.

“Yes, Michael, it would help a lot if you show that you ACTUALLY care to solve this issue. Running away I don’t know where won’t look good to the judge.”

“I am not running away! I will be near Pretoria, in South Africa, with a phone next to me…”

“Can you, for once, be serious about business matters???”

“I am always serious about actual business matters. This is just a mess created without my consent and knowledge.”

“Because you change your managers so fast that nobody knows for sure who the hell represents you at a certain time! With the corollary that ANYBODY could claim to represent you and sign papers in your name!”

I sigh. John is right in a way. I’ve been unhappy with the way my interests are defended in relation to Sony Music and I did make quite a lot of changes in my management department…Duh, why is it so hard to find someone I can trust to look after my best interests??? I’ve always paid everyone very well!

I’m in a dubious state of mind. I am worried, missing my Nooki, lost in thought about the future of my career and how to steer it in the right direction I want it. By my standards, History Tour was a flop. I was plagued with technical problems and I did not find one single show acceptable to be officially released on video. I want to evolve, to shed my old sounds, the impression people have of me, and build a new me, artistically. I am building a new me on a personal level, as well. I am learning to be more accepting of myself and my deficiencies. It’s not easy, what with my illnesses, my insomnia, my old pains and aches and my already failing resistance to the lure of peace and quiet brought by prescription drugs. I was an addict in ’93 and it scared the shit out of me how out of control I got. I don’t want that again – ever!

So, this is my dubious state of mind when a whiny and plaintive Lisa calls me to join her for lunch on her birthday. Her friends are all busy and she feels like shit having lunch all alone on her birthday.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I went there with the most innocent intentions, but praying that I won’t get spotted by paparazzi. Lunch was a tedious affair. Lisa is in her miserable mood, she drinks a lot and once again, for the hundredth time, I hear the pitiful story of how her life ended when Elvis died. It was tragic, surely, because he was a doting father, but many things going wrong in her life are her responsibility, not the hand of fate. But whatever she hates about her life, she assigns to the moment when her life went out of control and it’s only the cruel fate which pushed her around.

I didn’t quite listen to her – I know the story word for word by now – but I counted the number of glasses she was drinking with increasing worry.

“Lisa, you’ve had enough to drink. I have something in my schedule soon, so let’s leave. I can’t stay here much longer and I want to see you safely in your car.”

“Ahhhh…ever the gentleman, Michael! I always said…you are the gentleman!”

She giggles uncontrollably as she stands up and leans against me in an awkward attempt to kiss me. But I have my mask on, and I also avert my face. I don’t want to kiss her, and the smell of alcohol on her breath is not attractive at all.

“Let’s get out, let me take you to your car.”

I help her put her coat on and we step outside. Of course there are fucking paparazzi!
“Are you two thinking of reconciliation? Will you get married again? Lisa, do you miss Michael?”

She giggles and holds onto me. I keep a firm hand on the scruff of her coat, because otherwise she’d stumble to the ground. Yea, she is more than cheered – she’s half drunk already. I think of her children seeing photos with her groveling on the ground, and I realize that I must help her inside the car. Those kids deserve better than this. They don’t need to see their drunken mother all over the news.