tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)

January 30ᵗʰ ─ 9:00 ᵖᵐ

Before I went to work at the Neverland Ranch, before I met Michael Jackson in person. I used to sit on the swings at Christian's playground, I used to think that my life was the worst one in the world.

I didn't have a job, I didn't have friends, I didn't have a real family and I was all alone. But one thing I was good at was, treating people. So when I heard about the nursing positions at Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch, I jumped from my seat. I thought, maybe that's what I need to be doing.

I was sitting on one of the swings now, slowly swinging. Thinking hard, I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head, I wore a drawstring red coat.

The swing beside me squeaked and I whirled with a gasp. But thank god it was only Michael, he was wearing a red sweater and a black leather jacket over it. His hair was messed as if he had been excessively running his hand through it.

"It's cold." He says, even though he's wearing those thick clothes. Rubbing his hands together, white smoke came from his lips.

I shrugged. "I know." It was cold, but I wasn't thinking about it.

Michael stood up, grabbing my freezing fingers into his cold ones and pulled me into a corner of the park. "I've been doing some thinking," he said, letting out a nervous laugh and brushing thin curls behind his ear. "Not about what we are, more like why we are?"

At first I was confused at his question and then I understood, I wonder if he could hear the shrill squeak of the cogs turning in my head. "You're wondering why we're a secret."

"Yeah, you could say that. I was lying to Janet yesterday about who you were and I didn't know why I was lying. What's stopping us?"

"What's stopping us is my family. My history, I don't want to be on every morning's tabloid. Once this whole kidnap and allegation thing goes by I don't have to be on TV. I don't have to be on the next morning's magazine. I'll be free."

"You don't want to be Wacko Jacko's Dirty Diana." He says, slowly nodding his head. I can't tell if he's disappointed or not. "I understand."

"So you lied to me."

I spun at the familiar voice. It was Richard, he was slowly walking toward the two of us. Wearing a thick blue coat. "I'm hurt, Diana." He puts a mocking hand over his heart and pouts his lip.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, stepping back. I knew Michael was confused as hell, but we needed to get out of here.

"I should be asking you that." Richard said, and then his eyes went to Michael who's eyebrows were scrunched in confusion.

In another situation, I would have blushed at how cute he was.

"It's none of your business," I shove his chest before he can take another step toward me. "Now get out of here." I say.

Richard tilts his head to the side. "Now why would I do that?"

"Remember what I said yesterday." I quirked an eyebrow.

"Hey, I know you." Michael said suddenly. "You were on television. You were the one who said Diana was on the run. What are you, her father?" I can't get over the fact that Michael is being polite to him.

"Step father actually." Richard says, and then he pulls something from his pocket. His cell phone. "You said whatever I do would be on tomorrow morning's tabloid and you're right."

He snaps a few photo's of Michael and I. "Hey! Give that to me." I say, pursing my lips angrily at him.

"Nope." He turns his eyes on Michael. "You. We're going to make a deal." He smiles bitterly.

"I-I don't-" Michael stammered, confused.

Richard laughs. "Don't speak, I'll speak. I want you to admit on live television that Diana here"--he turns his eye on me, I don't like the way he's looking at me--"Beat you bloody."

Michael's eyes widen. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I have photos that will be in the press by tomorrow night if you don't. And don't think I didn't hear the two of you talking. Diana doesn't want to be in the papers. And if Diana doesn't want it, I'm sure you wouldn't let it happen." He smirks devilishly. "Go on, kiss and stuff. I'm leaving."

Richard backs out of the park.