Fill My Empty Spaces

Part 5 - Tomorrow

Michael stood outside and tried to call Gaga again. People were packed outside and trying to get in, probably aware that Gaga was there and now eager to get in and see her, thinking she'd perform. First he saw her mother come out and she looked quite relieved. It wasn't the end of the world, but Gaga who came out directly after looked like she would bring down thunder and lightning any second. He heard her father make a point by saying something like this would never happen at HIS restaurant.

Going by how worked up some of the crowd were outside, Michael had no problem imagining how it was inside.

He overheard Gaga talking to the security as he moved closer. "Why wasn't I told? You're supposed to let me know." Then she noticed her phone was buzzing just as he put his away and their eyes met. She exhaled and her shoulders dropped.

"What happened?" he asked and was approached by Gaga who squeezed his hand for a second while he wrapped his arm around her back and kissed her on the cheek. "Baby," he whispered.

"Nothing mama G couldn't handle," Bearden noted and sounded cheerful despite the obvious mess.

Gaga slowly let Michael go. "Too many tourists," she said.

When their SUV stopped a few yards down the street he started walking towards it while she held on to his hand. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. The door was opened and she climbed in and dropped down in the seat. "Just take my sister and parents home and the rest of us back to the hotel," she told the driver.

"Are you sure?" her sister asked. "We can still go out."

"Yeah, no, I'm OK. It's fine. I'm sorry. I'm definitely not in the mood."

A moment of silence passed as Gaga stared out the window and then they all started talking at the same time. Only Gaga was heard once they all stopped.

"Where were you?" She turned to Michael and seemed like she demanded an answer.

Cynthia thought of how her daughter was completely besotted with this man and now she was probably expecting his child, but she couldn't settle with the idea of committing herself to him completely. She didn't feel like her daughter let him in. He was her boyfriend, but not her best friend? He saw the same things they all did, if not more, so what was she afraid of? That she was dating her abuser over and over?

From what Cynthia had seen Michael didn't put any pressure on her – although he wanted her to be the mother of his baby which of course could be considered a natural wish if you loved someone and planned to stay with them. Gaga had said he was overly excited about her pregnancy and she could only see love and admiration when she looked at him. He never objected or actively tried to interfere with her choices or was jealous of her.

Maybe her daughter didn't trust herself; that Michael actually could be everything he seemed to be. If he wasn't, then he was one hell of an actor and deserved awards for it. Or a complete psychopath. There was no way he was either of those. He was simply too naive and sensitive, a smart man, but not cunning or deceiving. She had crossed paths with a lot of those assholes while following her daughter around the world.

Now he blushed as Gaga stared at him. "I was... I was right behind and tried to get in. The car had to circle the block and when I got out it was... too crowded so I... was a little late..." he interlaced his fingers with hers and smiled.

And a terrible liar, Cynthia thought. No, he was certainly real. "Just let him be, Stef," she said.

"Mom, actually..." Gaga started saying when Cynthia swatted her words away.

"What does it matter? He was ten minutes behind."

Gaga looked at her mother with her mouth open. Did she just tell her off? Did she and Michael have secrets? She turned her head and met Michael's gaze just as the car stopped and she didn't have time to continue the interrogation. She hugged and kissed her parents goodnight, apologized again and as she let go her mother whispered some encouraging words.

...

Gaga sat down on the couch and took her shoes off. She leaned forward and put her face in her palms. It was so late and the whole procedure of getting out of her wig, the make up and everything seemed like a massive hill she had to climb over at this point. She took a long deep breath and then let the air out of her lungs, removed the glittering rhinestones she wore on her eyelids and her earrings.

Bobby had sent a few messages about the night, how the bar debacle had reached social media. Gaga could only imagine how they now all believed she would need stronger medication to even get out of bed. It was anxiety fuel, but she was more concerned about putting the people who certainly didn't deserve to be in it, in that situation.

Michael sat down and placed her feet over his lap. He stroke her calves, up under her dress and reached her thighs. He could feel her muscles relax, and how she loved how he touched her. Gently rubbing her feet and the soles. Her delicate muscles twitched and the tendons were hard under his fingers until he softened them.

"That feels so good," she whispered and leaned back with her head against the armrest. She felt his hands travel up her legs to her hips.

"I love you," he whispered and pulled the hidden zipper down to peel the dress off her. She felt his lips against her neck, soft kisses along her clavicles to her shoulders when he let the rhinestone covered shoulder straps glide down as he slowly undressed her until she was naked underneath him. He continued kissing her body. Softly sucking her nipples and kissing her belly, down to her groins and the delicate skin on the inside of her thighs. She felt her body nearly feel like it floated under his touch. He deliberately avoided her pleasure parts to make her body ache for more.

"You are so incredibly beautiful," he said. He put his arms under her knees and back, lifting her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom where he laid her down and got undressed himself.

She turned to look at him. Smiling, with heavy eyelids, she raised her arm. "Come," she said and he moved closer to her. Her eyes were dark between the thick eyeliner and layers of mascara on her eyelashes. Her cheeks were rosy, but pale in comparison to the overdrawn red lips.

She put her leg over his waist and pulled him close. She let her fingers glide through his hair and had one arm around his back.

Their eyes met and she raised her head to kiss him. He closed his eyes, felt her lips hungrily suck his bottom lip and her teeth against it. Her tongue was soft, it melted in his mouth and stroke along the coarse side of his tongue.

Tomorrow, she thought. I'll tell him tomorrow. Before we go home on Saturday.

And in the pocket of Michael's pants on the floor, his promise to her was pulsating like some ancient artifact. One day, not today, maybe tomorrow – then I'll ask, he thought.

End.