Rock With You: A Love Story

italian wine

Melbourne, Australia
November 20th, 1987
Belle's POV
2:27pm

We finally get back to the hotel and begin to pack up our stuff ready to go to Sydney. I traipse around the soft carpet, fluffy sliders and all, scanning to suite for anything I may have forgotten. My legs ache from the surprising turn today brought, but I manage.
I stuff my pastel blue little make-up on top of all of my perfectly folded clothes in my suitcase, now ready to zip it shut.
I glance over at the other side of the bed where Michael's case is laying open, his possessions strewn over the bed sheets.
I stroll over, slightly dragging my tired feet as I walk, and begin to fold up his clothes for him. I am only now noticing just how many black slacks, red shirts and white socks he has.
I turn around when I hear the monotonous sound of Michael's humming. A continuous tune which he hasn't stopped humming over the last few days. "Hey, baby." His voice sounding rough like he just woke up.
"You alright?" I smile sweetly, in hope he's recovered from earlier. He seemed out of it since the whole incident in the shop this morning.
He comes up behind me as his arms slither around my waist, his fingers interlock at the front of my stomach. His chin rests on my shoulder as I feel his warm breaths down my chest, sending shivers all around my body. "Yuh." He exhales. "You didn't need to pack my mess up, yanno."
"I know, but we need to be ready in time and I've finished mine. Just go and relax." I say while my hand continue folding his shirts and piling them into his black leather suitcase.
"We have hours baby." He groans with a distinct husk in his voice.
"Only 3 ish, now go." I use my fingers to untangle his hands from my front, attached like ivy, as he scoffed and walked away.
I continue to pack his things away as he slouches down on the cream, fluffy couch at the foot of our bed. Soon after, I zip both of our cases tightly shut and plop them by the front door.
"Babe?" I hear Michael croak, he must of just woke up from his nap on the sofa.
"Yes?" I look over my shoulder, my hands roughly tidying and laying out the silky bedsheets on top of our mattress.
"We need to get married." He exhales while stretching out his long, slender arms.
"I know, baby." I chuckle at his obvious statement.
"But I mean like... now." He whines in desperation.
"Are you forgetting you're in the middle of an international world tour?" I walk over and perch on the edge of the sofa in which he is sprawled our upon.
"But there's days in between!" He says with pride.
"We also need to plan it." I point out in a matter-of-fact tone.
"We can hire someone! ... please." He begs.
"I want to too, but it will be difficult."
"But worth it." He points his index finger at me and raises his eyebrows.
"True." I mirror his facial expression and point back. "Let's talk about it later, c'mon we have to leave our suite in... 6 minutes." I check my sterling silver wrist watch.
"We better!" I hear him shout half-jokingly as I walk away to check to kitchen for something we may have left.

By 3 in the afternoon, we have evacuated our suite and are on the road heading to Melbourne Airport. Butterflies fill my stomach as it settles in that we are going back to the performing lifestyle. We have a show late tonight and one tomorrow too, each beginning at 8pm on the dot.

Michael, Ben, Simon, a few bodyguards and I quickly pace through the airport; which was surprisingly and luckily empty. Our suitcases roll smoothly along the clinical white floor, out feet clicking as we step. We are all quickly escorted through security and duty-free, leaving us space to get through out gate, 5, without interruption. We all stroll casually across the tarmac to our assigned private jet, the air thick with uncomfortable warmth.
Michael places his hand on my lower back as I step ahead of him to ascend the aluminium steps, rising to the jets level.
"We're so spoiled!" Ben squeals from inside as I turn right to be faced with the beautiful interior.
"Is that the new... no way!" Simon fangirls.
"Record Mirror!" They gasp in unison.
"What are you guys screaming about?" I chuckle as they both turn and face me, a magazine in their hands. "A magazine?" I say halfway between judgement and humour.
"It's the months Record Mirror. The Pet Shop Boys!" Simon freaks. I respond with a head shake as a small smile.
"You've always been pleased, boys." Michael enters, his presence filling the room. "C'mon, B. Let's go."
"Go? Where are we meant to go, we're on a -..."
"Just come."
"Ok, ok!" I giggle as he takes my hand as pulls me towards a wooden door. "Where are we going?"
He opens the door to reveal a little room filled with nothing but a pink couch, a small television set and a snacks table with a bottle of icy cool wine; he'd clearly planned this. "Michael!" I gasp with my hands over my mouth.
"D'ya like it?" He flashes a proud grin, like a child showing their parents a drawing/scrap of paper full of messy shapes.
"I love it! What's this for?" I gush before kissing him on the cheek.
"You. Also look, I got wine!" He picks up the bottle from the metal ice bucket and admires it. "From Italy." His eyebrows do a dance.
"Fancy!" I replicate his reaction. "Thank you so much, I love you."
"I love you, Bel. Now let's sit! We can watch a movie, and... I believe we have something to discuss." He winks.
We slouch into the sofa and tuck into the complementary peanuts and mini baguettes for the rest of the journey, planning our special day.

4:46pm
Michael's POV

We landed in Sydney minutes ago and have driven, by limo, straight Parramatta Stadium. This stadium has the capacity of 44,000 people, much the usual. There's just under 3 hours until the show.
The limo pulls up around the back of the venue, allowing us to all enter into the back safely. We file in through what seems like a hundred white labelled doors, and up a hundred flights of metal uncomfortable stairs. Belle and I eventually collapse into my dressing room and talk for a bit, knowing getting ready won't need 3 hours.

5:38pm

Here we go again. And I'm so ready.