A New Kind Of Love//Book 1

Chapter Three: Dinner maybe?

*Princes POV*

After finishing up my performace, I hurred back to my dressing room hoping that Michael listened to me. I passed Bill Bray, I think it was him. He was with Michael when I rejected being apart of the Bad album. Bill gave me a glare, as I shoved pass him to get to the dressing room. I opened the door to find a quietly crying Michael Jackson, sitting in the vanity chair. He looked up at me as I walked over to him. I shoo him out of the chair so I can sit down and wipe off my make up. It killed me to do so though, the hurt in his eyes was almost unbearable. I pull a make up wipe out of the drawer and start cleaning my face off.

"Prince, if you're gonna ignore me, why did you bring me back here?" Michael questioned.

"To bother you I guess." I retorted. I heard a sniffle from behind me. Goddamn it Prince, you just had to make him cry! More sniffles were coming from behind me, I turned around to see Michael now sobbing. Fùck!

"U-uh i'm sorry..." I apoligized.

"W-what?!" He said alarmed, "You apoligized?!" I looked at my hands.

"So! I can apologized, if I want to!" I snapped.

"Oh, ok." He said quietly.

"Well I forgive you." He said. Akaward silence provaled, until I realized he was crying when I came in. I got up and sat on the couch next to him. He staired at me like I had three heads.

"Umm, why were you crying earlier?" I questioned.

"Oh, just a bitch named Lisa." He responed. I could tell he needed to let it out. I put my hand on his shoulder and patted it.

"Let it all out." I said. The next thing he did was very unexpected, Michael flung his arms around me. He leaned into me and sobbed.

"Prince... She's such a bastard. Lisa, promised me we would have kids together, but NOOO." He choked out. Michael looked up at me with thise big doe eyes and said.

"Prince, she lied to me. Your not supposed to LIE to someone, especalliy the person that you love. But..... I..... Don't..... Think..... She...... Ever...... Loved...... Me....." I pullled him closer to me, his head now rested on my chest. He curled up on to the couch and whimpered a bit. This poor guy. I stroked his hair, and whispered comforting things to him. Wow! I'm touching Michael Jackson's hair! I got really exited for a seconed, then Michael shifted a bit and looked up at me. Confusion showing in his big brown orbs.

"What are you smiling about?" He asked.

"Oh nothing." I answered. Just the fact that i'm sitting with my crush, who doesn't look like he hates me that much anymore. Michael gave me a look and proceded to ask me about my life.

"Well, how have you been lately?" Michael questioned.

"Okay." I redponed, I don't want to talk about myself, I want to talk about you. Michael gave me a suspisous look, and rested his head on my chest again. I eyed his hands out of the corner of my eyes, the looked like they had coffee splatered on them.

"What happened to your hands?" I asked a little to harshly. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"It's a skin condition." He said softly.

"Oh..." I responed. I was at lost with words, I thought he bleached his skin. But I guess he didn't.

"It's not contagious." He piped up.

"Ok." I said. Without my mind even knowing, I picked up one of his hands and brushed the back of it. Michael tensed up, and sat up-right. He removed his hand from my hand and looked at me.