The Way She Wants It (Michael Jackson FanFiction)

..66..

What I think is several hours later, I roll onto my back and wipe the sleep from my eyes. I think of Michael and how fucking good he was last night. 

Shit, I haven't fucked in a while. 

Surprised that he's not wrapped around me, I open my eyes to find a cold, empty space in the bed beside me. My brows furrow as I sit up and look around the room for any sign of him. 

His clothes are gone. 

And he's left me. Again. 

"Fuck," I hiss, flopping back down in the bed. I rub my eyes with the back of hands until they're blurry, "Why am I not surprised." 

You know what, he probably thought he could just leave without having me come after him. That's how it always was so why would it change now? 

No. 

I'm going to show him that his ass just can't leave me in the middle of the night and expect to be left without me doing something about it. Plus, I know he wants me off his ass about how blatantly unhealthy his is right now. 

When we were fucking I could see every bone in his body through his skin. 

Once I've gotten the motivation to get up and sort myself, I decide to go on a hunt for Michael. I've already called his cell twice, and both times it went straight to voicemail. 

First stop: the stadium. 

I walk through the back doors of the chaos and all I hear is people talking about Michael. 

Forever the center of attention. 

"Abby?" someone asks from behind me. I turn to find an unfamiliar, but stunned, face. 

"Hello," I smile, "What can I help you with?" 

"I'm a big fan," the man says, shoving his hands into his track pants. 

"Thank you," I smile, before looking around, a bit awkwardly, "Do you know where I can find Michael?" 

"Michael," the guy furrows his brows, "Michael isn't here. They've been trying to get ahold of him since yesterday and no one can get in contact with him." 

"Well, I saw him yesterday, and he's fine," I assure with a smile, "But I can't find him today. I've tried his cell and there's been no answer."

"That's the same with anyone else who's tried to contact him. Even Frank can't find him." the guys explains, making my brows furrow in thought. 

Where is he?

"Thank you for the info," I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose, "I really appreciate it." 

"Oh, I'm Devin, by the way," he smiles brightly, holding out his hand. I look at it for a second before shaking it and nodding. 

"Abby, as you know," I smirk, starting to walk away, "Again, thank you." 

I walk through the backstage area, and I see Kenny on the floor in front of the stage yelling at people left and right.

You're star is gone baby, what are you going to do now?

I laugh to myself. Watching him in a panic is pretty funny. 

"Are you an idiot?!" he yells, "Somebody go find Michael! Go to his suite and find him!" he yells and I roll my eyes. 

Why don't you do it yourself, dumbass. 

I walk over to the makeup tables and find no one in makeup and Karen and Michael Bush sitting in their respective chairs, making conversation.