No More Games

22

Michael's Point Of View

I know.

I know I messed up big time. These past few weeks have been hell for me in every way possible. I've come to the realization that I'm indeed a pretty shitty individual that badly broke the heart of the woman I truly love.

That woman is Sasha Campbell.

Though I did have feelings for Elise, I was definitely not falling in love with her. I was in love with the idea of being with her because I felt that I needed to make up for letting her slip from my grasp years back. Sort of like redeeming myself.

After the tour, I kind of secluded myself behind the gates of my property and focused on making more music for my fans. I hadn't been able to get in contact with Sasha nor Elise since that crazy night in France.

I still haven't figured out how Sasha found out about Elise. With the way we planned it all out, I'm sure Sasha would've never caught on unless someone actually told her.

Anyways, today my mother and Janet decided to come pay me a visit. They've heard of all the stress I've been basking in for the past few weeks and wanted to come check up on me and do a little catching up on some lost time.

"You sure you guys don't want anything? I can ask the chef to fix you up something really quick." I asked Janet and Mother before grabbing a water bottle for myself from the fridge.

"We're fine, Michael." Mother smiled. "We didn't come to stay long."

I unscrewed the top from my water bottle and shrugged my shoulders as if to say 'suit yourself'. I took a good swig of my water and sat down on the stool opposite of them across the kitchen island. An eerie silence of awkwardness began to swivel its way in between us as they just stared at me. Almost like examining me or trying to peak through the windows of my soul. I couldn't bare it. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I let out a nervous chuckle.

Mother removed her gaze by dropping her head down and sighing as she clutched to her purse on her lap. Janet, however, continued to pierce through me with her eyes. "Are you taking those pills again?"

Confusion befell me. My eyes shifted between the two of them before they finally just transfixed on Janet, whom I thought was quite bold to come into my home and assume such a thing. "What?"

She sighed and looked at Mother who's eyes were still down. "Someone called Mother the other day and said they've been selling you bottles upon bottles of pain meds."

I tried to keep a serious face but a laugh managed to slip from my lips, causing Mother to scold me with her eyes. "Who is this psycho that's telling you these lies?"

"Michael," Mother warned through gritted teeth. "this isn't funny."

The smile on my face from the humor of this situation completely disappears when I realize that they seriously believe that I'm abusing drugs again. "You guys seriously— c'mon, Mother, you know me better than this. I don't know who called you and told you such falsehood, but I'm definitely one hundred percent not taking any pain meds."

Janet's eyes remained focused on me like a hawk fixed on its prey. "So, you're telling me someone random is posing as your pharmacist and calling up your relatives, saying he's 'worried that you'll end up killing yourself at the rate you're going'?" Her face was stern but worry and concern were still visible. "Michael, please, just be honest with—"

"Oh my fu— Janet!" I flung my arms, got up from the stool and walked around the island over to their side. "I'm not taking anything! And I'm only going to say this once, so if you're here to give me one of your mediocre "intervention" speeches, you can start making your way off of my property right now." Janet could only stare and shake her head at me while Mother began making her way out of the kitchen without saying a word. I knew she was disappointed. "Mother," I followed her. "you know I love you very much but I really need you to believe me."

We reached the front door—before she opened it—she turned and gazed up at me with eyes only a mother can give a rebellious child. The discontent was written all over her face; making me want to crawl under a table and hide. "Michael," she sighed, "I hope you're taking care of yourself."

Her eyes were searching mine and all I could do was pull her into an embrace. "Mother, let me see your phone." I pulled away from her and looked upon her face that was now draped in confusion.

"What?" She asked.

"Let me see your phone, Mother." I repeated as she hesitantly went into her bag to retrieve the her iPhone.

She placed the phone in my hand—knowing the passcode already—I unlocked it and began scrolling through it. I opened the call app and went through her recent calls.

"Michael, what are you—"

"Sshh," my eyes look up at Janet, giving her a warning look before resuming back to what I was doing.

As I'm scrolling through the call history, I see a number with no name. A number which I feel like I've seen before. "661-555-0112 . . . 661-555-0112 . . . 661-555-0112 . . ."

I repeated the numbers in my mind so that I could write them down once they left. I'm almost sure that I know this number but nothing in my memory makes a connection to it right now.

Closing the phone, I look at my mother and Janet—their eyes still on me—wondering what I needed from the phone. I look back down at the phone in my hand one last time then . . .

SMASH!

"MICHAEL!" Mother gasped.
"What the fuck, Michael!!!" Janet yelled.

Bits and pieces of the phone dispersed across my foyer from the force of my smashing the iPhone against the nearest wall.

Cool, calm and collected, I pushed passed a ranting Janet and began making my way up the stairs. I paused and looked back at my mother who was baffled. "There will be a new phone with a new number brought to your home tomorrow morning. Now with this new number, the only people that should have it is family. Nobody else."

"Michael, you're crazy for this!" Janet scoffed as she pointed to the scattered debris on my marble floor.

"Don't worry, I'll clean it up." I smirked at her just to annoy her more. I switched my gaze to my dear Mother. "I'll call you tomorrow, Mother. I love you."

Janet rolled her eyes and scoffed—pushing her way past Mother—making her way out of the door. "Mother, let's go!"

"I'll be praying for you, son." Mother said before walking out and closing the door behind her.

Now that they're gone, I can continue to basque in the peaceful realm I was in before they got here. My mind ponders on what could have made them believe a random person that I was taking painkillers again. Who is this person?

I have to figure out who this person is. That number. . . What's the number again? Oh yeah,
"661-555-0112 . . . 661-555-0112." I said aloud to myself.

I'll get down to the bottom of it for sure.