tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)

March 4ᵗʰ ─ 4:12 ᵃᵐ

"You did what?" Gone was the sweet voice Michael originally used, this time. It felt the real hatred, the dislike about me.

I struggled to not make eye-contact with him, I'd been hurt enough to know that looking up at him would only cause more pain.

"James forced me to." I sighed, my eyes on my shoes, not on anyone's faces. Just to keep me heart safe. "I climbed through Janet's bathroom window, made a pit stop to Michael's room, and then I saw it. The painting I was supposed to steal.

When I was trying to escape, I sprung my ankle and then Shay saw me, I freaked out and ran. I didn't think about what I did again."

Finally looking up, my eyes went straight to Janet. Her eyes were clouded with tears and Jermaine looked shocked, I forgot he didn't know who 'White Mask' was. Neither had Janet.

It was a shock when Janet's hand swung in my direction and I was slapped, a hot pain sizzled on my cheek. "Do you even know what Rowan means?" She asked in a wobbly voice. "He's our older brother, Diana. He died on a hunting trip, and even though people still think it was a car crash, yes he died. And we had him painted, keeping the Masterpiece above Michael's mantle for safety.

Because we didn't think intruders like you would do something like that. You stole a part of us, Diana. You came into our lives and you ruined Michael. Your sister shot Michael. And here you are, top of the world."

I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut, words couldn't come from my mouth. I was shocked, hurt but it was well-deserved.

"Where is it, Diana?" Janet asked finally, holding Jermaine's hand while asking me. "Where is the Rowan Masterpiece?"

I wanted to avoid the question but I owed her this. "It's at my house," I reached into my pocket. The only reason I'd brought the key to my home was because I knew that they'd ask for the Masterpiece back. "Here."

I handed her the keys.

Janet snatched them from my hand. "I don't want to see you again."

I sighed, hoping that would be the last hurtful thing she said to me.

"Come on,"

I turned, surprised at the calm sound of Michael's voice. "I'll walk you back to your hotel, right?"

I swear, he knew me better than I knew myself.

I nodded.