Wrong Body

4. Damn

Michael went back to Layla's place and tried to search around for cash to get a plane ticket. From what he found, this was no where near enough. He then thought to try his body guard's phone number. He dialed it, and the line picked up.

"Hello?" Bill answered.

"Bill! I know this might sound crazy but it's me. It's Michael," he responded.

"Whoever this is, this isn't really funny. Goodbye," the line cut off.

Michael slammed his hands against the dresser out of frustration. He was lost on what to do at this point, he absolutely couldn't let this person on stage. If this person didn't know what they were doing, the media would have a feast on his reputation. He sighed, there was absolutely no way to get around this. Maybe.. try his own number? No. Those calls had to pass through another person first too. He sat down and tried to calm down. He had to wait. That first show, he had to be early. He recalled that Sydney had mentioned her paying to attend the first show, he didn't know where she was right now though. The concert was in a few days, all he had to do was wait. His nerves were kicking in. Please know what you're doing, even if it's for a few moments. I beg of you. 

Layla had absolutely no idea what she was doing. Michael's back up dancers noticed something was off, but they didn't want to seem rude and ask. Her leg was shaking. She had to figure something out, fast. The hours passed by and she went home. She decided to stick with the story that she was sick, she couldn't attend rehearsal but she'd be fine by showtime. Once she informed the guards, they made a series of phone calls. Hopefully something would save her soon. 

Backstage, The First Show in Tokyo, Japan.  

She rubbed her arms, she was in his clothes, sitting in his dressing room. She was so nervous, her stomach was turning. She thought once she seen that crowd, she'd puke. She can't slip up though. God, why was this so hard. Why did this have to happen now?!

Michael stood outside with Sydney, dressed up all in his own merchandise. This was a weird feeling, being on the other side of the line, going to see a concert. Being in the crowd of his own fans, they had no idea that he was standing before them, in a female body. This made him chuckle, until the doors opened. Everybody pushed and shoved their way inside. He was left behind. He looked around at the outside. There had to be a way inside other than the front doors. He bit his lip and walked around the building. There was one door, two guards standing on the outside. 

"I have to get in, it's a real emergency, if I explained you'd think I belong in a mental asylum, I'm begging you to let me in," he tried to plead. 

The guard gave him a blank stare and continued to stand their ground. He tried to reach for the door handles, but was hit on the hand by one of them. He glared and went through the front. The back of the crowd was not the ideal place for him to be noticed. He hoped this was how it worked, the person in his body was the one that belonged in this body. He prayed in his head that this was her. He moved through the crowd to get closer to the main stage. The show began. He whipped his head up and watched. The crowd screamed and cheered his name. He prayed harder. 

Layla stood in her place. She heard the crowd cheer. Her nerves were all over the place. A giant spotlight shined on her, the crew waiting for her cue. Of course, skipping out on rehearsals she wouldn't know this. She stood confused, the crowd beginning to quiet down. She slightly moved her hand and the track to Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'  started. The crowd cheered once more. She froze. No lyrics came out of her mouth, she didn't know any. The crowd thought this was a part of the show. She opened her mouth, nothing came out once again. The track kept playing, eventually the crowd grew confused. Her vision went blurry, the crowd went silent.