{Chapter 13}

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It's the first week of December 1992 which means it's been over a month after my Bucharest trip. During this time, Michael did invite me and my family to his house nearly every weekend. However, he and I met more often. We might talk on the phone or he might take me out at the KFC where everything had begun. Now, I'm very confident to say that I am a friend of him. He trusts me and sometimes rants to me about his brothers.

*phone rings*

"Hello?"

"Hi, Laura. How're you?"

Michael Joseph Jackson, of course.

"Very good. You?"

"Nah."

"What's up?"

"I'm just not in a good mood today."

"Eh, what can I do for you?"

"Sing?"

"You know I would never do that."

"I'm kidding!"

"No, I'm serious. What do you want me to do?"

"Meet me at my place?"

"Michael."

"Hmm?"

"It's 11 pm."

"Can't you come?"

"Well-"

I'm thinking if I should go there or not.

"This's the only time you don't get to see people outside. They may even be hiding. Wear black."

"I always wear black. What do you expect?"

"Boy, yes."

"Wait for me then. I'll be there."

"Thank you, girl."

I hang up and sit still for a while. "Girl?" Hold on. He never did call me by those "names". He always calls me Laura or dude. Anyway, I got to go to him.

When I arrive, Michael's holding a soda can and singing his own song, She's out of my life.

"You said you're not in a good mood."

"Not really."

As he walks by me, I smell something weird.

"Michael, what're you drinking?"

"Hmm?"

I give him my suspicious look.

"Did you smell it?"

"Well, I did and it does not smell like a Diet Coke."

"I admit. It's not."

Yes, it is not a Diet Coke. I smelt wine.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

He sits down beside me and takes a sip of his white wine.

"I want to but..."

"It's your privacy."

He looks at me.

"I understand."

"I'm curious. Have you heard something fishy about me outside?"

"Like?"

"Like Michael Jackson is doing this and this and meeting who and who."

"No..?"

"For real?"

"Yeah. For sure."

"Oh."

He takes another sip. Honestly? He looks kind of drunk. No. Half-drunk.

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