Whatever Happens (M.J)

Four

"Where the hell did you go yesterday?"

Michael looked at Diana's reflection in the mirror. He had half of his Scarecrow face hanging off him, making him look more like the monster from a horror movie than a beloved character from a family-orientated musical.

It was Monday morning and Michael was in no mood for one of Diana's diva tirades. "I was around." He replied.

"Around; what the hell does that mean, Michael? I know you weren't at your apartment, because I was there and you were not! So where were you?"

Michael pursed his lips. "I was with a friend."

"A friend; Michael, you don't have any friends!"

"Gee, thanks, Di."

"I meant friends that I don't know! We know all the same people!"

"Well, apparently not because you don't know Ruby."

Diana stopped her pacing behind Michael's chair to look at him.

"It's a girl?"

"Yes; she is a woman. I wouldn't call a 19-year-old female a girl." Michael replied coolly. Was she jealous? Normally he'd be beyond using a nice girl to make someone jealous. But this was Diana; she wasn't just someone.

"Well do I get to meet her?" Diana asked, sitting in the makeup chair beside him.

"Yes; she's visiting the set today. You'll meet her this afternoon."

"Well good; I look forward to it."

"She's looking forward to meeting you too. She's a big fan."

Diana inspected her face in the mirror. "Of course she is, darling."

Michael rolled his eyes. He loved Diana, but sometimes she was absolutely ridiculous. It never ceased to make his day.

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Ruby brushed her dress down, looking up at the security guard leading her onto the set. She fiddled with her hair, adjusted her bag's strap across her body; she was nervous and it was painfully obvious.

"First time on a movie set?" The security guard asked.

"Is it that obvious?" She asked, brushing a stray curl out of her eyes.

"Trust me when I say that there have been people more nervous than you. Considering the cast you're about to meet, I'm surprised you haven't passed out yet. I mean you're what, in your late teens? This is a Michael Jackson project; why aren't you screaming?"

Ruby laughed. "I'm 19, so that was a pretty good guess on your part. And I'm not screaming because I've already met Michael; he's the one who invited me here."

"Already got the screaming out of the way?" The guard asked with a suggestive smile on his face. Ah, Ruby now understood how Hollywood worked. She wished they'd go back to California.

"What's your name?"

"Benjamin, miss."

"Why do I get the feeling that you were implying something dirty when you mentioned Michael, me and screaming?"

"That wasn't my intention." Benjamin replied.

Ruby narrowed her eyes. "You look like your early to mid 20's, so I'd expect you to be a complete fuck-boy."

Benjamin chuckled. "Does Michael Jackson count in that bracket; he's almost 20."

"Nope; he's a sweetheart. Can I go yet?"