tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)

May 7ᵗʰ ─ 12:00 ᵖᵐ

Michael was sitting on his bed, an expression I couldn't describe on his face when I entered his bedroom. "Hello Michael." I said to him.

There were tears in his eyes. "Hello, Diana."

I was surprised, but I didn't show it. I slowly reached up and pulled the blonde wig free of my brunette curls. "How did you know?" I asked.

Michael stood, his expression impassive. "I saw your face today."

I sighed, glad I didn't have to drop the bomb. "I came here to tell you everything. But mostly to tell you that you're free."

"Free?" He switched on the lamp.

I dropped the wig in a wastebasket near the door. "We just don't have to worry, about James, about Gloria or about Richard. About any of the bad memories." I approached the bed. "You're free."

"We're free." He tried to correct me. "Why aren't you including yourself?"

Tears reached my eyes as I plopped down on his bed. "Because I won't be free, without you. And I know you probably hate me right now-"

"Diana." He shook his head, eyes wet too. As he kneeled in front of the bed, staring up at me. "Diana, I-"

"I love you, Michael." I whispered, the flow of tears attacking my face.

He reached up and cupped my face. "You shouldn't be surprised, not one bit, when I say I love you too."

Damn. He was so good with words.

I let him kiss me when he did, letting my hands explore his hair, letting his hands explore my body.