The Bad Tour(ture): 2nd Edition

Chapter 17 - Speed Demon

I was lying on my couch staring at the wall.  It was weird being back home in L.A.  The TV was gone so there wasn't anything else to look at.  He took that along with our dog Scottie.  It was way too quiet around there.  It felt eerie.  I knew I wouldn't be able to stay there long.  I had to start looking for a new place.

At least I still had a phone to ring.  I huffed and puffed as I got up from the couch.  I went to the kitchen wall and grabbed the phone off the receiver. 

"What?"

"That's how you answer your phone?"

I smiled cheerfully as I heard his voice.  "I'm very lonely."

Michael chuckled.  "Well I'm coming to get you soon so get dressed."

"Where are you taking me?"  We'd been off the tour for two weeks now and it would be my first time seeing him since.

"We have to take care of that demo."

"Oh right.  Well I'll be ready for you."

I was so anxious to see him again.  I missed him!  Since we were just going to a studio, I didn't dress up.  I wore some blue denim shorts I long ago tore some rips in and a black shirt and my black leather combat boots.  This was my style.  Not skirts and high heels.  I still hated Michael for making me wear that crap when performing.

I waited  to hear a car horn or knock on the door while sitting in my living room.

Beep Beep.  Car horn it is.

I grabbed my keys and backpack and walked outside.  I noticed the gold Camaro sitting outside my driveway.  I was expecting for a car to pick me up, like the ones we had on tour, not a Camaro.  I walked slowly to the car, taking baby steps. 

I bent down to see who was sitting in the driver's seat and it was Michael, all dressed up in a baseball cap with his hair pulled back in a bun, some of his famous shades and a black button up. 

He reached over and opened my car door.  "Get in silly."

I smiled as I stepped inside.  "Wow, you drive?"

"Not supposed to be but..."  His smile made me melt inside.  I still always felt those butterflies when I was with him.  He pulled off and I put my seatbelt on.  "Do you want to listen to some music?"

"Umm, no that's okay.  Is this your car?"  I stared at him as he drove.  It was definitely a turn on watching him do something so...normal. 

"Yes it's one of them," he said speeding now down the highway.  "You can roll down your window if you want."  He leaned back on his seat and continued to drive with one hand on the steering wheel.

"I'm fine.  So is Speed Demon based on a true story?"  His driving was insane, switching lanes left to right, just to get ahead.

He laughed.  "You think I'm going too fast?"

"You're above the speed limit and you brake like a maniac."  He was making me nervous.  I clenched the sides of my seat.

"I'm sorry, I'll slow down."  He slowed down a bit, a bit.  "So are you excited to record?"

"Yes."  I was very very excited.

"I'm pretty amped to get you in the booth."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

I rolled my eyes.  "Oh come on, tell me."  I was praying he would say Westlake Studios but I knew he wouldn't pay to have me go there.  It was just a quick demo.

"It won't take long to get there.  Don't worry.  What have you been doing without me?"

I looked around at all the other cars, trying to see if I could notice any irregular behavior.  "Nothing really.  Just writing and trying to...umm..."  I noticed he was driving fast again.  "Preparing for the beginning of next year."

"Did you read my book?"

"What book?"

"Moonwalk."

"I thought that didn't come out until next year."

"Frank told me he gave you a copy."

I didn't know what he was talking about at first but then I realized.

When we were in Australia, after our spectacular last show (Stevie Wonder popped up and performed Bad with Michael!), Frank came to me and apologized.  He gave a wrapped gift but I never opened it.

"I didn't open the gift he gave me so I didn't know that was what was in it."

"He wrapped it?" he asked in a deep voice.  He cleared his throat.

"Woah," I said looking at him.

"What?" he asked softly.

"You going through puberty?"

He laughed.  "No.  Stop.  I had something stuck in my throat."

"Why don't you always speak in your natural tone?"

"This is my natural tone.  I don't change it on purpose.  It just depends on how I'm feeling at the moment and who I'm with."

"Well I like your sleepy voice."

"I like yours too," he teased. 

He pressed hard on the brake as the car in front of him suddenly stopped.  My body jerked forward.

"Sorry," he said to me.

I didn't say anything.  I just sighed, very loud in frustration.  "I don't want to die today."

"Sorry," he said again with slightly some attitude in his tone.  "I didn't kiss you when you got in the car, I'm sorry."  He leaned over to me and we gave each other a quick peck on the lips.

He started driving again and he turned some music on.  "What do you want to listen to?" 

I heard Another Part of Me come on and I told him to keep it where it was.  I loved that song.  I turned the volume up and started grooving to it.  "I love this song!"  I started singing along.

He laughed at me, I think a little shocked I knew all the words.

"Please tell me we're going to perform this live!"

He started nodding his up and down to the music.  That was his way of saying 'yes.'

"You're just another part of mehhh," he sang along with me.  We were both now rocking in our seats singing together.

We else could groove with such perfection with one hand stuck on the wheel?  Only Michael.  I started mimicking him as he starting bobbing his head and making his hand groove along in a repetitive 'L' motion.  He and Greg always did it at the end of shows.  I thought it was cute.

"I think it would only be right you play Speed Demon next."

It was even more fun singing to that together.  I didn't mind the speeding so much anymore, even though I should've.

When we reached a luxurious neighborhood and he turned down the music, I knew we were close to our destination.  There were huge houses and people walking down the street with their dogs. 

Michael pulled up to a house with a beautiful large gate.  He rolled down his window to address himself. 

"Where are we?" I asked him.

"This is my house but I haven't been home in a while so I have to tell them it's me," he laughed.

"Your house?"

"My family's home."

That's when I realized, 'holy crap, I'm on Hayvenhurst.'