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 opened my eyes slowly, one eyelid after the other. I was really getting used to wake up feeling this rested and just entirely and genuinely good. I turned around in my bed, and closed my eyes again out of laziness. I looked on the left, where the alarm clock was, but realized that I wasn't in my room, but still in Michael's. Once again, I crashed my hand on my forehead as I understood that I fell asleep while in Michael's presence... in his bed. Again.
The previous night, Michael wanted us to eat snacks in front of the movie of my choice: I chose Batman. He asked me if I was comfortable enough to watch it in his bedroom, and I think my eyes must have doubled in size because it was not the type of question I was used to be asked. I have to admit that, at first, I was quite surprised by his demand. A man asking for a woman to come into his room to watch a movie would normally sound weird, but when the man in question is none other than Michael Jackson, then you know there's nothing to be worried about: all he really wants is to watch the movie and be with someone. Nothing more.
As I slung my legs out of bed, I noticed there was a sleeping bag and a pillow on the floor. I understood right away that Michael slept there, and I started to feel bad for stealing his bed from him. I don't think I would have minded him sleeping next to me, though, since I trusted him enough not to try anything. Plus, I doubted that Michael would see more than a friend in me. To be honest, I didn't even think about the nature of our relationship myself as well. Everything seemed so natural that I didn't even think much about it. We were just enjoying each other's presence. If we were bound to become more, then time would tell us. For now, we were living in the moment, which is quite ironic when we know that I have the ability to know what that moment could be made of.
I brushed my hands over my face, and stood up from the bed to open the curtains. I squinted my eyes as my irises met the Californian sun, and smiled at the beautiful weather outside. But it is when my eyes landed on the clock on the wall that my smile faded away, and my eyes widened at the time it indicated: noon. Again.
"Holy fucking shit," I cursed out loud, as I started running across the room. I opened the door of the room, and walked back to the guest room where I stayed. On my way there, I heard Michael's voice down the hall, he was talking to someone.
"I forgave Joseph for everything he's put us through, Mother," his voice echoed through the room, and I understood his mother was already there.
"Ah hell no," I muttered again, as I looked on my right and on my left. I needed to reach the guest room, upstairs, without being seen. I couldn't show up without at least taking a shower before, and changing my clothes.
I looked everywhere one more time, and finally got out of my hiding place, behind one of Michael's numerous statues. I ran the fastest I could to go upstairs and came in my room quickly, shutting the door behind me. I knew Katherine was there, and this didn't help me calm my nervous state. I really wanted to make a good first impression, but I felt like I might have started off on the wrong foot: I did sleep in instead of waking up to meet Michael's mother, after all.
