"Hey Bianca."
"Oh hi Jen. Come in." I smiled at my friend.
"I was here earlier, but wewe weren't here." she stated.
"Yeah, I was out doing touristy stuff all day."
"Oh cool. Was it fun?"
"Definitely. I did some shopping as well." I pointed at my bags. "How was rehearsal?"
"It was good. Michael was being his demanding self, as always." Jennifer chuckled.
"What else is new?" I alisema sarcastically.
"Speaking of which... Have wewe told him?" her expression went from cheerful to serious.
"Jen, wewe ask me every day." I groaned.
"Yeah, well I just think he should know. Honestly, what's the worst that could happen?"
"It could ruin our friendship?" I raised my eyebrows at her.
"True. I still think that wewe should tell him. For all wewe know, he's been in upendo with wewe for years, but he just never knew how to tell you." she shrugged.
"Yeah okay. Right, when was the last time Michael didn't get anything he wanted." I scoffed.
"You know what I mean. He's still shy at times. Maybe, he's afraid of your reaction because wewe two are best friends."
"I don't think so Jen. But we'll see. Maybe I'll give it a go."
"I think wewe should. Anyways, I came over here to ask wewe if wewe wanted to get something to eat.
"Yes! I'm starving, and something other than room service might be nice for a change." I chuckled.
"You know Michael is crazy about you." she evaded my attempt to change the subject for good.
"I just wish I knew if it was the kind of crazy I want it to be." I sighed.
"Like I said, tell him." she nugded my arm.
"It's not like I haven't thought about it. It's just, everytime I was going to tell him, I chickened out." I shrugged.
"I see. Well, just think about it. Now... Where to?"
"I think the only option we have is staying at the hotel, seeing that it is quite impossible to get out of it." I state, noticing the enormous crowd of mashabiki waiting for the King Of Pop to onyesha as much as his pinkie.
"Too bad for them that he's not here." Jennifer chuckled.
"Still at rehearsal?"
"Yeah, there was some problem with the sound system so he's prbably there until it's fixed. Twice." she laughed.
"I see. Well, they have a real nice Italian restaurant somewhere down there, I think." I alisema and pointed at a flight of stairs, leading to a bunch of restaurants, inside the hotel.
"Let's do it." she alisema and linked her arm in mine.
After a delicious, yet frightfully filling meal Jennifer and I made our way back to our floor. It was almost time to go to the stadium where the tamasha was going to be.
"I need to get Michael." I sighed.
"Of course wewe do." she winked at me.
"Shut up!" I playfully swatted her arm.
"Didn't wewe say he was going to hire wewe as his personal photographer?"
"See, that's what I thought. But it appears that in his world, it means babysitting." we both laughed.
"I'll see wewe at the stadium, okay?" she waved as she went to her room.
"Okay." I smiled and waved back.
I walked over to Michael's suite and knocked on the door.
"Come in." I faintly heard him shout.
I entered and immediately heard noises from the bedroom.
"Mike, what are wewe doing?" I asked suspiciously.
"I'm looking for my socks. au one of them to be precise." he panted while rummaging through his suitcases.
"Dude, wewe have zaidi zaidi socks with wewe than wewe have loafers, just take one." I laughed.
"No, it needs to be the matching one." he whined.
"You know, nobody's gonna notice." I stated.
"You think so?" he paused for a moment.
"Yes! Now just take one. They're all white anyway. And hurry up, we have to go."
"Fine! But if some Dutch tabloid writes about my socks tomorrow, it's on you." he winked at me and put on a sock on his bare foot. Little did I know that this was the end of him matching his socks.
"Whatever." I rolled my eyes.
"Thy punishment will be portentuous." he alisema dramatically with the worst fake-British accent ever.
"Mmh big words mister. Goes with your big head." I laughed and tousled his black curls with my hand.
"Hey! Don't mess up the do." he threw his arms around my neck.
"Chill. It's not like you're gonna go on stage right now." I giggled.
"Wait for me." an oh-so familiar voice chimed behind us as we approached the elevator.
"Oh hujambo Karen." Michael smiled politely.
"Hi Michael." she stroked his arm before turning her gaze to me. "Bianca." she alisema curtly.
I just nodded in return.
It was no secret to anyone that Karen and I weren't exactly best of friends. To be honest, none of the female crew members got along with her. Mostly because she kept bragging about how close her and Michael were. But the truth is, that they really weren't. Whenever Michael was being filmed, she always snuggled up to him, kissed his cheeks and what not. Michael was too polite to say anything, so she took it as a gesture of encouragment.
When the cameras were on she seemed like a sweet and loving woman, which she was to Michael, but to the rest of ud she was a real bitch. You'll have to excuse my choice of words, but it's true.
The funny thing is, that Michael was probably the one who was most annoyed kwa her. The only reason he hadn't fired her yet was because he knew that she wouldn't go and squeal to the press. She was also the only one who was most familiar with his Vitiligo. Apart from Michael's dermatologist and myself. Karen, Dr. Klein and I were the only ones who had seen Michael with no makeup whatsoever. Not even Lisa Marie had...
Anyways; Karen always managed to interrupt us at every moment, including now. I wished Michael would just tell her off, but being the polite gentleman that he was, he never did. I had told her zaidi than once, but she never listened. Obviously! The only one she obeyed and respected was Michael.
Away from Karen's prying sight, he rolled his eyes towards me and I had to stifle a hysterical giggel.
"Shall we?" He alisema merrily, never taking his gleaming eyes off mine.
Jenniffer
Michael
