BAD {Michael Jackson}

{BAD... 32}

Wednesday Night~

Alexis's POV:

Michael thought about the question. It took him a while to come up with an answer. I'm sure he'd never thought about, or been asked about anything like this.

"Something interesting about me is..." He took a pause. He seemed embarrassed.

"I've never told anyone this before, but one of my 'coping mechanisms-" He said with air quotes. "-is writing poems or songs. I know it's stupid, but the life I live is tough. I don't talk to anyone about it, or have any emotional outlet, so that's what I do."

I shook my head. "Michael, that's not stupid at all!" I said. "I think it's really interesting."

He shrugged. "It's just what I've always done."

"Can you sing me something you wrote?" I asked.

His eyes widened. "No." He declined. I poked out my bottom lip. "Please?" I begged.

He scrunched his nose. "No, Alexis. It's stupid."

"What you write is a reflection of you, and I want to know you. I don't care how stupid you think it is. I want to hear it."

Michael sighed heavily. "Let me think of one."

He fiddled with his thumbs as he tried to think of a song he wrote. I wondered how many he'd written.

He glanced at me. "There's this one that I wrote when I was about thirteen." He said. "I wrote it after my mother was killed."

"Let's hear it."

"Just this one part." He said.

I shrugged. "That's fine."

He sighed before he started singing in the most amazing voice I'd ever heard.

"You are not alone. I am here with you. Though you're far away, I am here to stay. You are not alone. I am here with you. Though we're far apart, you're always in my heart. You are not alone."

My jaw dropped to the floor. "You wrote that?"

He nodded shamefully. "Yeah. I was thirteen years old. I know it's stup-"

I put my hand up to stop him. "No. It's not stupid. It's what you do to get you through you're life. I think it's amazing that you can turn the craziness of your life into something as beautiful as that." I said. "Plus, you have a beautiful singing voice."

He shrugged. "It's decent."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Give yourself some credit! I loved it. It was amazing."

Michael hesitated. "Thank you." He said. Poor baby was so used to being mistreated that he didn't know how to react.

"There really so much I don't know about you. I want to know more." I said. He chuckled. "Well what else do you want to know?"

I thought about what I actually wanted to know. An idea hit me when my eyes landed on his arms.

"What do all your tattoos mean?" I asked. "If they even have a meaning."

"All of them mean something." He said. "Anytime something big, or important happens, I tattoo it on myself."

"Can you tell me what some of them mean?" I asked.

Michael nodded and pointed to a tattoo on his bicep that had angel's wings around the name "Janet."

"This one is for my sister." He said. He turned his arm to show a sunflower design that said "Katherine" in the middle.

"And this one is for my mother." He said. "I have a lot. I could be here forever explaining all of them, so I just decided to show you my most meaningful ones."

I nodded. "And you tattoo them on yourself?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Drawing is another coping mechanism." He said. I opened my mouth to respond but he cut me off.

"I don't have any of my drawings to show you other than the ones on my body." He said.

I laughed. "I wasn't going to ask. I just wanted to say that it's really cool." I said.

He nodded. "Thank you." He said, this time with more ease. "What do yours mean?"

I glanced at the tattoo on my shoulder. I rolled my eyes. It had Chris's and I's initials enclosed in a heart.

"I regret this one." I said. He raised a brow. "Why?"

"Because I got it as a surprise for Chris's birthday. It basically was supposed to mean that we were forever, but clearly forever didn't last very long." I said

Michael nodded his head. "What about all the flowers?" He asked.

I looked at the flower tattoos on my right thigh, and my left bicep. "My grandma loved flowers, so I just put them all over me." I explained.

He nodded. "So did my mother." He said.

I smiled at him. "See? Isn't it interesting learning more about each other?"

Michael chuckled. "It is. I've never done this with anyone before."

"Well I'm glad to be your first." I said. Michael smiled softly. "So am I."

I finished the last strawberry and grabbed my glass of wine. "I'm going upstairs. It's getting late." I said.

I stood from my chair, fully expecting him to follow behind me, but he didn't.

He was possibly just taking a moment to process our conversation. It was unlike one he'd ever had before, and that was obvious.

I went out into the balcony and watched the waves crash in the high tide as I waited for him.

Michael's POV:

I knew what was happening. It was inevitable.

I took girl like Alexis to a private island for her to fall in love with me, and I ended up falling love. I knew that was going to happen. But it was unusual for me.

I knew she probably was waiting for me upstairs, so I got up and went up there with her.

When I got in the room, she was standing on the balcony, looking out into the ocean. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her.

"It's beautiful out here." She said. I smirked as a corny line came to mind. "Not as beautiful as you." I said.

She chuckled and took a sip of her wine. "That was cheesy, but thank you."

She turned to me and kissed me. Her lips tasted like chocolate, making it even more enjoyable.

Tell her, Michael. Don't be scared.

I broke the kiss. She smiled at me so lovingly. I had to say this to her.

"I love you, Alexis." I admitted.

Her eyes widened in surprise. I bit my lower lip as I waited for her response.

That was too fast. You shouldn't have said that. Everything was going just fine until you had to RUIN it by saying—

"I love you too, Michael."