Return

Chapter 11

Paris and I turn our heads simultaneously when a few taps sound on my door frame. We find Prince standing in the doorway, smiling. "Hey, can I have some time?" he asks kindly and Paris stands. "Of course." she says, standing from my bed.

Prince nods and smiles, silently thanking her. He takes Paris's place as she exits the room.

"So, what did you guys talk about?" he asks and I shrug. "Girl stuff?" he asks and I nod. "Little bit of catching up." I say. He nods and says "Ah."

"Would it be weird if I said I don't wanna be here anymore?" I ask and Prince turns to me, but I don't look at him. "What do you mean?" he asks and I shrug. "I just found out I have a family." I say and tilt my head up to hold back tears. "I need to get to know them." I say and he nods.

"I completely understand." He says. I close my eyes and mentally thank him."So what are you saying? You want to come stay with us?" he asks and I squeeze my eyes shut. "Is it too soon?"

"Psh, no! We've all been missing you for years! We'd love to have you back!"  

"I know it's weird, but I just don't really want to be here with my mom anymore. I mean, I love her—don't get me wrong, but I need to know the other family she's been keeping me from." Prince nods and shifts his position.

"No, I completely understand. We would be more than happy to have you for a while. I mean, we would all have to talk to your mom about it because she does have legal rights over you."

"I just want to meet my dad." I say and I can tell he's smiling even though my eyes are closed. "He's a really cool guy." Prince explains and I smile. "I know." I say before he continues. "He tried to teach us how to dance, but we failed. Especially me and Paris." I laugh and sit forward, opening my eyes. 

"I heard Blanket sing. I've seen him dance," I say and Princes smiles. "He's just like Michael." I say at the same time he says "He's just like dad." we chuckle and look at the floor. I tried so hard to refer to him as 'dad,' but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It's still just too weird.

"You know, you kind of remind me of him." Prince mentions, and I look up at him, smiling. "How so?" I ask and he tilts his head, examining my face. "You and Blanket both have his eyes. Your body language and your smiles are just like his." he says and I smirk. "Thank you."

"I'm serious, though. Blanket is like his clone and you're his little mini me."

"My mom's worried about me being 'put into the spotlight.'" I say with a lower tone, shaking my head.

"In all reality, it's really not that bad." Prince says and I nod in agreement. I can hear everyone's voices overlapping each other from downstairs even though my room is all the way down the hall . "I know, she just worries about me. But I think it would be kinda fun, you know? People would really get a kick out of finding out that Michael Jackson has another kid."

"I wouldn't put yourself out there like that." he offers, and I turn to him. "But you just said—"

"I know what I said, but if they don't know about you, it might be best to keep it that way."

"Why?"

"Because, you would get hounded more than any of us. Not that we get hounded a lot, but if they found out it would be like a gateway to hell. That's the kind of story they want. Especially with someone as famous as Michael Jackson."

I sigh and nod. I guess he's right. I thought about what I told Blanket a couple days ago.

"Along with being famous comes priorities. You can't just be born to someone who has been adored by people practically his entire life, and expect to be normal."

I wondered how the media would react to this information. How they would react to me. Would they hate me? Would they hate him for keeping something from them like that? I would assume that they would know about this considering they know just about every other detail that sits on the line that is his—and his children's—lives.

I begin to feel scared, but I don't want to be kept hidden away anymore. If I found out about this, then the world can, too, so I don't feel so alone with all these mixed feelings. I don't want to be a secret. I don't want to be left out. Not anymore.