Remember the Time

Chapter 87

“That's nice baby. Eat your food.” Mariah turned her attention back to her assistant. “I'm honestly so done with the bullshit. I'm ready to sign to somebody else. My career just can't keep taking the creative dictatorship that Sony is.”

Mariah sighed, she hadn't even touched her own food with all the craziness surrounding her label taking over. But she couldn't focus on much of anything, anyway. Tommy was creeping his way back into her life and she couldn't really do anything to stop it.

June 18th, 1999

Mariah was sitting in her room working on lyrics for a song while the twins were taking a nap.

“After tonight will you still love me baby…” No.

She scratched the line out. “After tonight will you return to love me, after the night begins to-”

Ring.

Ring.

She rolled her eyes and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi Mariah. Did you get my invitation?”

She gritted her teeth. “Yes I did.”

“Don't forget to RSVP.” He chuckled. “Thália and I would love to see you there.”

“Tommy cut the shit.” Mariah snapped. “What did you call me for?”

“Woah, woah, woah no need to get snappy. Do you need me to relieve some tension?” Tommy taunted.

“I didn't fuck you because I wanted to, I fucked you so you'd leave my husband alone.” She retorted. “Don't act like it was anything else.”

“Well, you should've done it for your own album since he's not even releasing the album you were so desperate to fund.”

What?

“I'm sorry, come again?”

“Oh you don't know?” Tommy questioned.

Mariah furrowed her eyebrows--slightly bewildered.

Tommy chuckled. “What else is he keeping from you, baby?”

Mariah rolled her eyes. “We talked about it.”

She could hear Tommy’s faint snickering in the background.

“We did! I just wasn't sure when he was gonna announce it is all.” Mariah explained.

Tommy chuckled heartily. “You better hope he does something with it. Or else you just look like a dumb whore.”

Mariah squeezed the phone before slamming it down.

“I can't fucking believe him!” She shouted. “He didn't even think to mention that shit knowing we have a baby coming and-”

She covered her face and let out a frustrated scream.

Then: something inside her clicked.

She ran from the bedroom to Michael's shrine to Diana Ross. She paused for a moment, looking around the room that Michael so gently cared for. The painting of Diana seemed to be staring her down, daring her to do something.

She tore posters from the wall, carelessly tossing them to the side. She threw the candles from their holders, knocking over a few bottles of perfume and scattering incense ashes on the floor.  

She stopped to catch her breath, staring the extra large portrait in the face.

“All I do for that man and he treats me like trash. For you.” She screamed, tears streaming down her face. “What do you have that I don’t?”