Balloons [A Michael Jackson Fan Fiction]

Chapter 8: The Incidents

Chapter 8: The Incidents

{A}

"Thanks for the ride home," Autumn said quickly as she opened the car door. Michael followed her out and walked beside her. "Uhm, what exactly are you doing?"




"Being a gentleman and escorting you home," he said cheekily. Well then, she thought.




"Okay, then," she said as she opened the door of her house. "Good night."




"Woah, woah. Aren't you going to invite me in?" He chuckled.




"No."




"Why not?"




"First, it's late. Second, your driver's waiting. Third, I'm too tired to entertain guests, so please leave."




"Hm, okay. On one condition."




"You can't do that, you dumbass. I'm not asking anything from you."




"You're basically asking me to leave. I can stay here outside your door all night if I want to. So?"




"I can't believe this."




"It's nothing big. I want us to have lunch together tomorrow," he said suavely. Autumn choked on her breath as those words came out of his mouth. "My treat. As friends, okay?"




"I know you mean well, Michael, but it's not actually the right time to--"




"Yes, I know. Too much things happened in such a short moment, but come on. You got to have a little fun at least. Please?" He looked at her pleadingly, and she swore she felt her stomach do a somersalt. She nodded and silently cursed herself for giving in so easily. She couldn't help it though. After looking at those beautiful brown eyes, who could resist? "Great," he gave her a smile and a hug, and walked away.








---

{M}





    Michael woke up early morning groggily, still tired. He didn't get enough sleep last night. Not that it mattered, he always couldn't sleep. He should really see a doctor soon, his case of insomnia is getting worse every time.






    In what city was he in now? When was the next show? He asked himself these questions until he realized he was in New York, and the tour was on hold. He also realized he has a date with Autumn. A smile formed in his face then dropped after a few seconds. 'It's not a date, it's just a friendly get-together,' he told himself. 'Get a grip, Michael.'






   'It technically is a date, and you know you would prefer calling it more of a date than a friendly get-together,' a voice inside him said. 'You like her, and you know it,' he heard what his subconscious mind just told him, and his mouth dried up, as if he hadn't drank for 3 days. What the hell? They were friends, not a long-time separated lovey-dovey couple. What kind of person would fall for his best friend? Hah, obviously not him.






   He pushed away those (God, forbid.) thoughts. He went to the bathroom and took a shower, thinking of his agenda for the day. What was he going to do after he takes a bath? It was still too early to go to the funeral parlor, and he knows the people there would just whisper things about him. He's rather not stay there.






    He stepped out of the shower and dressed up. He decided he would just buy a book and read it while waiting and go pick Autumn up at lunchtime and have a friendly time. Though he wouldn't expect her to be all jolly, after what happened to her mom and last night. Why things happened so fast, he didn't know. Fate was just playing with them, he guessed.






    After he dressed up, complete with his aviators and fedora, he left his hotel room to go to a bookstore. He told his bodyguards not to go with him though, it was just a short walk anyway. He loved books, it helped him escape the terrible reality of the world's pain and sorrow. He made a note to himself, that if he buys another house, he would make sure that he would have a personal library with thousands of books. Hayvenhurst was too crowded with too much things already.






    He enjoyed walks. What he didn't enjoy was getting mobbed by people. Sure, he loved every single one of his fans, but he couldn't take short simple walks to, well, everywhere. He just wanted to buy a book, and now he was surrounded by about 50 people. And they groups of people were rapidly increasing. He calculated that by 5 minutes, there would be a hundred more people. He knew he had to continue walking before he gets trampled by everyone, but he couldn't. He couldn't even advance a single step. There were fans and reporters and photographers everywhere.







"Look," he said calmly. "I just want to buy something, and I have an appointment later, and I really don't want to be late for that. Can all of you kindly move so I can walk without hurting anybody?" A few listened to him and backed away from his path, but most didn't care.