You Give Me Fever || Michael Jackson

Chapter 39: Lost

Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in two forevers. I've been to France, where I couldn't get internet! But OMJ, the first thing I log in to see when I got back was that this story got 1K votes before my goal of getting to chapter 41! How can I ever thank you guys? I'm so grateful, honestly! I love you so much! :)

I squeeze Michael tight, wanting him to know that it's okay to cry. He's in a really bad place right now, so his reaction is more-than acceptable.

"Michael... it's okay, shh..." I comfort him a little.

I hear him sob against my chest loudly. "She killed a child!"

"I know, sweetie... I know," I sigh.

Katherine wraps her arms around him, with me. "Baby, it'll be okay. Shh, come, now... it's okay."

He lifts his head from my chest and looks at me and Kate forlornly.

"Becky sweetheart... I know how you feel to lose a child now... and God damn, it hurts so bad!"

The words "so bad" are the most shaky words in that sentence, as he begins to cry again.

I stroke his curls, which are way less spiky than before, and I caress his cheek soothingly with the back of my fingers.

"I know, I know... Michael, I hate to annoy you further, but we have guests downstairs... Halloween party, remember?" I remind him.

He pulls away from me entirely and looks at the doorway, as if it'll help him hear the guests downstairs better.

"Tell them to go home," he mutters dejectedly.

"But... we can't just ask them to leave, Michael... that would be rude of us, especially since you're the one who invited them!"

"I said, tell them to go home," he repeats, seemingly ignoring my last statement.

"And I said, we can't just ask them to leave, cos it'd be rude," I retort.

He stands up from the bed and storms out the room, leaving me and Katherine alone.

"I suppose we better go follow him," I say.

Kate agrees, and we follow Michael, who has gone downstairs, back to the party.

When we're downstairs, we see Michael staggering through the party guests, heading towards the speakers playing the music.

I run his way and grab his arm. "Michael, what are you doing?"

"Ending the party now," he replies.

He pulls the plug of the speakers out, abruptly muting the music that was playing.

"Sorry guys, but the party's over," he announces in a monotone voice.

A few guests, mainly the young ones, all demand to know why, and some refuse to leave.

Despite thinking Michael was wrong to so-abruptly end the party, the guests are now being a little rude, I think.

"Man, what's the big idea?" one younger guest asks. "Why stop the party?"

"Yeah!" another adds angrily. "It's Halloween, asshole! We wanna party!"

"Hey, stop now guys," I intervene calmly.

"No! We wanna party!" a late-teen-aged boy protests. "Turn the music back up, 'kay?"

"No!" Michael yells. "I won't freakin' "turn the music back up" if I don't want to, 'kay?! I've not had a good day, so just get out, now!"