𝐀 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Part 32 ~ Urge For Rest

Michael's Point Of View ~

'Bad' Tour Backstage | New York

"Thank you. I love you New York . . "

The microphone that I hold only inches away from my lips causes my voice to echo throughout, allowing the feeling of my voice to stretch for miles. The crowd screams in response. The sweat that slides down my cheeks, to the rapid rise and fall of my chest as I stand here trying to catch my breath again and not to mention, the almost heaven like vision of many phone torches that are being held up right now - appearing to be endless . . I love it all.

It just makes me smile and have so much to say but yet, I'm left almost speechless. The level of love my fans show me . . ugh, I just have so much to be thankful for. I look at them, at their faces and I say to myself this is why I do this and this is why I never will stop doing what I do. I blow the crowd another kiss before I walk off the stage. As soon as my loafers hit the concrete after leaving the backstage staircase, I'm followed, almost surrounded by my security. It's a subtle exhale as I know the extent for this number of security is for my own safety. Especially after a show. The view of the black waiting car makes me feel relief but also such sadness as I wish I could stay on stage forever . . or just for that little bit more. I scurry further and further towards the mixed feeling that this black car brings until I climb in.

Looking out, I see many faces. Consisting of staff strictly for the tour and people who work for me - some familiar, and also some un. But these faces can't see me, with windows tinted so dark that no one from the outside can look in. I lean back against the seat, closing my eyes with a smirk suddenly appearing from the corner of my lips as I think how close I am to seeing Ariana. To kiss her, to touch her . . all of her, finally. The thought of her has sparked nothing except pure desire. This feeling isn't one to be surprised by at all causing me to softly chuckle. But then, I'm left reminded.

Ariana and her new song.

Yes, I've heard the song and watched the video too. And there is no such need to use my mind to brainstorm or verbally convey a thoughtful 'hmm'  as to who in fact Ariana is speaking of when she expresses such lyrics of giving her temptation and that this certain individual has her walking side to side. Please, don't be concerned. Because I am nowhere near embarrassed . . not in the slightly. Instead, I am proud. So proud, that such a stunning women loves me enough to express it to the world with no such thing as hesitation in her entire persona. As I watched, I couldn't help but smile as I saw nothing but her confidence in how certain she is of me. But the thing that I found truly a gift from her is how she addressed the media - she sang, but she also was speaking to them directly. Speaking the truth of how they can twist and turn things. How they continually come after us. She told them . . and with a voice as powerful as hers, I'm sure they will think again before they talk too much. My eyes squint together as I come to think of it, that there is no way it will put a stop to them, but perhaps it'll be something at least to somewhat soften the blow.

The car almost hums as the engine is turned on, upon the arrival of Frank. A cigar lit and the smoke never failing to make me cough a little.

"Can't wait to get back home . . "

I say, waving my hand from side to side in front of my face in hopes of eliminating the smoke. Frank nods. His free hand giving me a slight nudge as I believe Frank has immediately connected the dots.

"Back home to the Mrs, right Mike . . "

He chuckles. With his entire body bouncing back once in an almost sudden way as he does so. But it's a few seconds of silence before I respond. I hate that term. I have never liked it. It always made me cringe because to me, it always sounded less than.