~The sequel to 'THURSDAY'~
Michael had everything, or so he thought.
Only when he lost Valerie did he realise that without love, he had nothing. She left him with the question: where does he go from here?
Despite the relationship that he created...
~This song is quite eerie, but somehow sexy; especially the lyrics. Play when indicated~
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~LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT~
It seemed as though every reporter, journalist, and photographer working for virtually every media type, from television to tabloid, had infested the airport's entrance. Everything was out of order; the sidewalk was clogged with vehicles, some inky paparazzi minivans, some parked yellow cabs waiting for their next fare, and a couple of police offers were circling the area like vultures.
"Fuck," Marvin grunted, observing the frenzied crowd through the windshield. "It's a fucking media circus out there."
Michael shifted to the middle seat. He tilted back his fedora and leaned forward to squint across the road. "Somebody must've tipped 'em off that we were comin'."
"What do we do?"
Michael reclined, fingertips touching in his lap. "We wait."
"Right opposite that mob? No fucking way—I'm finding us a back road or an alley. Tell her to come and find us. I'm not getting lynched by a bunch of double Z's; I just got my ride resprayed."
Marvin switched gears, but Michael quickly stopped him,
"No," he calmly said, hand resting on Marvin's shoulder. "Look, they don't even know we're here. We blend right in. Let's just wait here for her. 'Sides, you're more likely to mess up the van's paint job in some tight, janky alley than out here."
Marvin slapped the wheel with his palm. "Man! Why do we gotta pick up this bitch anyway? Don't she got next-of-kin living in L.A.? Why can't they come and get her? I don't remember starting a free fucking taxi service."
"I offered, alright?" Michael replied in an attempt to mellow him. "I told her yesterday we'd pick her up from the airport."
"You mean me," Marvin retorted.
Michael turned his head to look out of the window. "Whatever."
"Don't even try and front like that ain't the truth, Mike; you haven't gotten behind the wheel of a car since '84, '85 tops."
Michael stared straight ahead again to regard Marvin, meeting his eyes in the rear view mirror. "And if I had, you'd be out of a job."
Marvin chuckled, "I'll give you that."
While they waited, they kept a sharp eye out for Zoë, listening to the excited clamour of voices outside. With every new arrival that emerged from the transparent sliding doors, the large gathering of press and paparazzi would mistake them for whoever Michael was meeting and hound them until they stormed off, evident that they were the wrong person. But as time slowly passed, the more impatient Michael grew.
