Smile (a Michael Jackson Fanfiction)

(34)

My jaw drops at the sight and anger immediately fills my being. Before I can control what I'm about to do, I'm on top of Tatum and seeing red. A pair of arms is trying to pull me away but I just keep hitting and slapping her. 

"Don't. Fucking. Touch. My. Man!" I scream as Michael finally pulls me off of her as she cowers like a little bitch. 

"Michael," she whines as I roll my eyes. 

"Oh please, don't give me any of that shit." I spit as Michael drags me away from her. 

"Emma, where the hell did that come from?" he asks seriously as he takes me into the bedroom. 

"I can't believe you let her kiss you!" I scream as I hit his chest. 

"I didn't let her kiss me! I didn't even know she was going to do that!" he exclaims, trying to defend himself. 

"Oh fucking please," I scoff as he walks towards the door. 

"I'm going to see if Tatum is okay." 

"Of course you are," I smirk, unamused as I grab my wallet out of suitcase. 

"When you stop throwing a fit I'll come back and try and explain myself." he shakes his head, walking out as I stick my tongue out at the back of his head. 

A few minutes later, after collecting a few of my things, I march out into the kitchen area and put on my shoes. 

"Emma, where are you going?" Michael sighs as I look around for that bitch. She's not here, looks like Michael is pretty smart. 

"Out." I deadpan, not looking at him as I go to open the door. 

"Baby, let's talk," he pleads, holding my wrist. I whip it away from him, staring daggers into his eyes. 

"No. You lost that when you kissed the hoe that you let in here in the first place." I grit angrily. 

"When will you be back?" Michael asks sorrowfully as his brows knit together. 

"When I feel like it," I grit, slamming the door behind me and walking down to the parking garage where Rob is waiting for me. 

*

I'm sitting at a lesbian bar, on my second drink as all of the women in the place gaze over me like starving dogs. 

I came here because I didn't want to get hit on by guys, but clearly being hit on by the same sex is just as bad. 

"What else can I get you?" the bartender winks as I smile politely. 

"I'll get another scotch on the rocks, but that'll be it." I sigh, making sure I don't go too far over my limit. 

"Sounds good," a voice says from beside me. I turn my head and see a very pretty blonde sitting in the barstool next to me, "Get me the strongest drink you've got!" she yells at the bartender who is at the other end of the bar, "So what's your story? Why are you here?" she asks, tilting her head back. 

"What do you mean?" I laugh nervously. 

"Come on, you're clearly not lesbian. You look very uncomfortable and you just got that straight girl vibe." she nods, leaning her side against the bar. 

"My boyfriend was kissing another girl. He pushed her away, but I just needed to get out to clear my head." I explain, nodding my head as I look at my glass. 

"Same," she sighs, resting her forehead in her hands, "My boyfriend just broke up with me." 

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologize, looking at her with pity. 

"Don' be, he was a real jerk. I'm just here so that I don't have any guys hitting on me." she scoffs, standing from her stool, "It's kind of stuffy, do you wanna get out of here?" she asks, taking a step towards the exit. 

"Uh, sure?" I say slowly, slipping off my stool, leaving a twenty on the bar. 

"I'm Sophie, by the way." she smiles over her shoulder as I follow her through the crowd of the sweaty bodies rubbing against each other. 

"I'm Emma," I sigh, uncomfortable with all of the bodies around me. We walk outside as multiple taxis rush by, making me feel like I'm in New York all over again. She hails a cab and we both get in. 

"Do you want to just go and hang at my place?" she asks, resting against the cab door. 

"Do you have alcohol?" I joke. 

"Yeah, two bottles of vodka, some wine and a few bottle of beer." she nods seriously. 

"Let's go." 

*

A few hours have passed and Sophie is passed out on the couch, and I'm on my way there as well.

"Nope, not tonight," I mumble to myself, trying to find my balance as I stand from the black, leather couch, "I have to go see Michael." I grin to myself at the thought of him. 

Tatum who?

I write Michael's condo phone number on a piece of paper that is on the kitchen counter before walking out of her apartment with my shoes in one hand and my purse in the other. I hail a cab from the sidewalk and stumble into it before it quickly takes me back to Michael's condo. 

I walk in, trying to be as quiet as possible, but end up slamming the door way too hard on my way in. 

"Whoops," I giggle to myself as I let my stilettos fall out of my hands. I hum drunkenly, staggering to the back room like a baby deer fresh out the womb. 

"Emma," Michael sighs, sitting in the king-size as I hold onto the wall for support, "It's 2 am, I was so worried about you," he says with a concerned look on his face. 

"I went out," I slur with a snicker as I pull off my jeans and tube top, throwing it to the ground to stand in just my lace panties. 

"I should punish you for leaving me like that," he says sexily, standing from the bed. 

"Oh please, play that came with Ta.Tum." I say, trying enunciate her name, but failing miserably. 

"Emma," he sighs, reaching his hand out to hold my hand, "I love you, not her." he says, and it seems honest. I try and come up with a smart ass response, but before I know it, my eyes are crossing and I'm leaning left to puke all over the wood floor, "Oh baby." Michael sighs, walking me to the washroom where I hurl up my guts over the toilet. 

"I'm sorry," I mumble, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, "Do you still love me?" I ask sadly, looking up to him. 

"Of course," he sighs, helping me up, "But we can talk about that in the morning. For now, let's get you into bed." He coaxes, walking me back into the bedroom. 

"I love you." I mumble as he gets in, making me cuddle up to him. 

"I love you too," his chest vibrates as I slowly drift asleep with my man.