Remember The Time: An MJ Love Story

Part 8

Kierra

I wake up the next morning on my couch, laying in a puddle of my own drool. My head feels like someone is moonwalking up there with a jackhammer.

"Good to know you're awake," Alex says. From the way they're looking at me, I'm in trouble. I sit myself up, wincing from the still spinning room.

"What did I do now," I sigh.

"Let's see... Coming in late," Tya starts.

"Hungover," Alex interjects.

"We found you passed out in front of a refrigerator," Geg puts in. I giggle because that sounds like it looked pretty funny.

"Kierra, what is going on with you," Tarrio asks. I furrow my brows in confusion.

"What do you mean," I ask. I already know where they're going with this.

"Since when did you start drinking? And coming in late," Tya interrogates. Her alone can cause my leg to shake, a clear indicator I'm mad.

"When did you start keeping things from us," Geg throws in again.

"Who are you," Alex exclaims, "Because the Kierra we know isn't like this."

That's when I lose it. Say anything, but never interrogate me like I'm a fucking child. I'm 25, pay my own bills, and yesterday was my birthday. They know me too well to question me this way.

"What do you mean who am I? Like seriously? You're not my damn parents! Yesterday was my birthday, so I had a bit of extra fun. How can you fucking say that I'm not the same Kierra. She never left, she just got a few touch-ups," I screech.

With that, I go into my room and slam my door.  God, that screaming match didn't help my headache at all. As I walk to the bathroom, My phone rings. Whoever is calling me on the landline must have something pretty damn important to tell me. I hit the speakerphone.

"It's Kierra," I answer.

"Hey there, honey. Why haven't I been able to reach you," Todd asks.

Before I can say anything, my crew blurts out, "She was busy."

Normally, I'd call them snitches, but they're right... this time.

"Doing who," Todd asks. It's an insider we have. If we can't reach the other for two days or more when we finally get an answer, we say 'Who were you doing so long?'

Laughing, I reply, "If I tell you, I'd have to kill you."

Judging from how my friends just looked at me, I'm in bigger trouble than before. Now, do I give a damn is a completely different question.

"He must be some hotshot from out of town, driving a nice ass car and spending some serious money on you," Todd guesses. He's good. Two out of three ain't so bad. I just giggle.

"So he is? Look at my baby. Seems like just a few days ago, I got you an interview with Michael Jackson," Todd says.

Oh, the grin on my face right now. If my friends saw me, they'd know my secret. That the interview he managed to get got me a lot more than views.

"Because it was a couple days ago, Todd. And a lot has happened," slips out of my mouth.

"Like what," They all ask.

I scoff playfully, "I'm the nosy one in this equation." I laugh again.

My head is starting to disagree with me again. I need that Excedrin and now.

"Todd, can you hang on for like two seconds," I say.

"Yeah, sure." I make way into my bathroom and realize it wasn't my head that disagreed with me. I puke up the contents of my stomach. I groan in agony, holding my head. My nose is running. My throat burns like hell. Never again. I will never again drink champagne.