Saved By Your Love

17. One Hell of a Party

Friday 17th July 1987

Sheri's POV

Michael's album was finally finished, thank the Lord! He was holding a fancy dinner party at his mansion to celebrate and he asked me to be there, only I had to be invisible. I was getting a little tired of this whole keeping-it-a-secret thing. But knowing Michael, a.k.a the brain, he had a foolproof plan - and it was on blueprints. This is how it went down: Bill was my ride to Hayvenhurst while Michael, his parents, and his guests were still at the Beverly Hills Hotel. That way, nobody knew I arrived. And where did I stay? Well, nowhere near the hors-d'oeuvres and tall champagne glasses, but in a really cool lounge which Michael said wasn't gonna be occupied. I waited there for him till he was free from the clutches of his guests. Then we'd be able to spend some time together. It didn't matter what Michael had planned for the day—he tried to squeeze me in somehow.

Our little talk the other night was quickly forgotten about. Michael probably thought it was simply an issue of mismatched sex drives, but actually, I took matters into my own hands and got myself back on the pills the very next day. Yep—that's why I wasn't feeling frisky. Man, my doctor lectured the hell outta me even after I lied and said I "misplaced" the pills. I hated taking that damn medication. But there was no denying that I wasn't myself without it. Worse, it was starting to hurt my relationships and the people I cared about and caused a huge dip in my social life. I couldn't explain to Michael the whole pill situation and what happens to me when I take 'em and what happens to me when I don't...and then there's why.

I felt like total dog shit for what I said and turning him down and letting him believe that there was something wrong with him. He had it all twisted. Truth is, there was something wrong with me. I wanted to give it to him too, and so bad. He could tell by the way I behaved around him; I ain't shy! The rest was a waiting game for the right time. Till then, he'd be pretty fuck-strated, you can bet. On the bright side, a whole week went by since then and the party and luckily, that was enough time for the meds to work their magic. I was myself again and I hoped that he'd be happy to welcome me back.

In other news, Michael had the largest movie collection I'd ever seen in my whole life! I was bored as hell waiting for him to show up. Plus I missed my daughter. Faith insisted on taking care of her so I'd be able to spend time alone with Michael. Honestly, it felt damn good that I didn't need to lie to her about it anymore.

But the entire wait was torture! An hour and a half passed I was in that dreary room. I browsed the movie selection but nothing really interested me. Plus, I didn't wanna end up accidentally "betraying" Michael by watching something good without him. Kidding, but it really was only fun when we'd watch 'em together. Most of the time I'd end up dozing off in his arms before the end, but I loved how he'd hold me close to him while he munched and crunched his way through two bowls of popcorn drizzled in butter and hot sauce. I only restocked that stuff especially for him.

As someone who always needs something to do, I really hated that I had absolutely nothing to do and eventually ended up with my back on the floor and my legs on the couch as I identified faces in the ceiling. A couple times, I fought the urge to just walk out there into a room full of executives and record-label VIPs. Michael told me they'd get a special first look at his music video - sorry - short film Bad, as well as an exclusive listen to the album itself.

Still staring upward at the wooden-panelled ceiling, I found myself singing that stupid song that Michael liked so much.

"Smile, though your heart is aching. Smile, even though it's breaking. Smile-"