Rock With You: A Love Story

401

The car suddenly comes to a holt, waking me. I slowly open my eyes, look out the window, and see a massive building with the illuminated words "Hilton Hotel" plastered about the entrance. There's a red carpet leading into the glass, shining doors. This is fancy, I already couldn't wait to see my room.
I turn to see Michael not sat there, but the seat still indented from where he was sat.
I fling my backpack onto my back and sit up so I'm perching on the end of my seat ready to go.
"We are here! Everyone out!" Shouts an already familiar voice, it's Michael.
I get up and walk out the bus, a cold breeze brushed past me, blowing my hair into my face. I move my hair out the way and walk into the hotel, feeling a bit out of place.
I grew up in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania with my small family, in a fairly small house at the end of a cul-de-sac. I love that house and I've never lived anywhere else. We weren't poor, but we definitely weren't rich.
The whole team is now in the lobby, holding suitcases and bags for just one night. Frank, Michael's manager, is talking to the receptionist. He then walks back to us with a handful of keys.
"Everyone take one" He says with his fist open in the middle of our circle. I take one of the small, silver keys out his hand. It has a tag with the number '401' on it.
"I'll lead the way", Michael says waving his hand up high, walking towards the stairs. I follow behind him first.
"The stairs? There's an elevator right there" I whine.
"Hey, get used to it. You're a professional dancer now." He mocks, laughing.
He runs up the stairs, missing 3 each time. His legs are so long.
"Come on, Belle!" He shouts at the top of the staircase.
"My legs don't stretch that far" I say walking up the stairs in an orderly fashion.
"Run!" He says.
I try my best to replicate how he ran up the stairs, resulting in me tripping over the last step. I don't fall, thankfully.
I hear a chuckle. I look up at Michael and he's covering he mouth with his hand trying to hold back a laugh.
"I was hoping you didn't see that" I say blushing with a slight laugh, as I continue to hop up the stairs.
"It was cute", He says laughing.
I don't answer, not knowing what to say. I just laugh.
I finally reach Room 401, it's at the end of a corridor. This hotel was so spacious and luxurious, with royal blue carpets down all the silent corridors. I reach for my key in my pocket. I put it to the keyhole and it falls straight out my hand. I crouch down to pick it up, when I hear someone's giggling.
I look around to see Michael in the room opposite me, with his door open, leaning against it. His room was literally inches from mine.
It's become a sort of inside joke, him laughing at my clumsiness. I just shake my head with laughter and embarrassment, and open my door. I step in and shut it gently behind me.
My room is so beautiful. It's got a small, wooden desk with a lamp on it. A massive bed, with black silk bedding and a red blanket. A huge window with a view of the city skyline. And an en-suite, everything shining and glistening.
I put down my backpack, and take off my shoes in relief. I flop back on the bed like a fish and let out a sigh. I sink into the sheets perfectly.
I can't believe my life right now. I'm going on tour with Michael Jackson. And he's a genuinely nice guy. I feel we kind of have some sort of weird connection, but that's probably just me. I have a lovely family who are so happy for me. I'm so content.
I close my eyes and drift off, high on life.