Chapter Six

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Michael's P.O.V.

I flop myself on my fluffy bed. It feels so good to be back home after three nights in a hotel room and two five hour flights. There's nothing more comfortable than my own bed in my own room in my own house. I was in Florida because I was invited to the 8th annual Palm Beach Film Festival. The event was okay, I took a lot of pictures with a lot of people, as usual, although I couldn't keep my mind off of my business here at home, and to be honest I still can't. This is huge for me.

My mind then wanders to a couple days ago, I remember that I reached for Christina's hand and held on to it, and she held on to it just as tight. Shaking my head, I try to shake out my thoughts. I tell myself not to think about her. Think about the plan. Romance just complicates things and clouds my mind to where I stop thinking and focusing on what I should be thinking of and focusing on.

Although my bed is warm and inviting, there is no time to rest when there's work to do. I am meeting at the studio with Marc Schaffel who produced a song with me I wrote back in 2001 called What More Can I Give. It is for charity and I want to make some finishing touches on it, because we are to present it at the Radio Music Awards in a few months. Running into the bathroom, I take a quick shower and put on some clean clothes. Feeling refreshed, I head out of my bedroom slowly, discreetly looking around in hopes of seeing Christina. Fortunately enough for me, as soon as I open my door I hear her tortured singing voice coming from the next room. I peek through the doorway; she is marching to the rhythm of my song Speed Demon and singing the lyrics to it, too. Leaning against the doorway, I watch her for awhile but then she turns suddenly, her blonde ponytail whipping around as she turns, and sees me. She takes out her earphones and smiles shyly.

"Hi," she whispers.

"Hi," I murmur. I smile tiredly and look at her a moment longer. I want to say something to her, anything, but I become mute the instant she notices me standing right in front of her. I give up and walk away, navigating my way towards the valet where my driver is waiting for me to take me to the studio.

Christina's P.O.V.

This isn't the first time that Michael has startled me. I snatch out my earphones when I notice out of the corner of my eye someone in the doorway. My heart races at the sight of him. I had no idea he had returned already, because he said he'd be gone for a few days. I half expected him to call me or at least text me. I think I checked my phone a thousand times hoping to discover Michael had tried to reach me, but he hadn't. I was hopeful that at the very least when he returned he would call me aside and at least pretend to be happy to see me. But he just stands there and throws me a half hearted smile. I don't know if he really means to smile at me, or he's just smiling because I'm smiling at him. He stares at me for a second and then just walks away. My heart that had been racing now sinks deep into my chest. It is a disappointing welcome home to say the least. I stand with my rag in my hand and feel my body go limp, and I feel like telling Luisa that I'm calling it a day. I can't believe he just walked away like that, without saying a single word to me. I guess he's running cold again today, and I try to think nothing of it, but I can't help but feel a sense of rejection.

At the end of another shift, I put my things away in the shed slowly without a desire to be here anymore, and wash my rag on the washboard. It's an old fashioned way of washing, but it's way more effective for washing rags than running them through the washing machine.

After I am finished and on my way out to my car, I feel disappointed yet again because I thought that maybe Michael would look for me after my shift is over like he did the other day. I take my cell phone out of my soft green sweatpants pocket and look at it, but my ears have not deceived me. It hasn't gone off. I tell myself that he's probably busy or something, but that doesn't make me feel any better.

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