A New Kind Of Love//Book 1

Chapter Twenty-four: The Aftermath

November 1st, 1993

Michael's POV

A throbbing headache pounded in my skull. The pain was a battering annoyance in my head. Another painful point in my body was my stomach. It was cramping badly and all I wanted to do was sleep, but the pain wouldn't let that happen.

My eyes fluttered open, exposing me to the bright mid-morning sun shinning through the curtains in the living room.

"Ughh." I coughed, pushing myself farther into the couch. Prince lay curled up on the rug by the coffee table. His breathing light and easy, unlike me. He takes hangovers better than me, that's for sure. I rubbed my face, the greasy make-up from the night before came off into my hands. A colorful blotch formed on my hand; damn it, I can touch the couch now.

My headache worsened by the minute as my stomachache gradually stopped hurting so much.

Prince rolled over to his side, tucking his arm under his head to act as a pillow. I rolled into my side, I soon realized that was a mistake. My slight movement caused my stomach to protest. It churned and bubbled, oh lord. The urge to grow up hit me like a brick wall, sending me scrambling to the bathroom.

I emptied the contents of my belly into the porcelain toilet.

"Jesus Christ." I moaned in pain as I continued to throw up. The cold linoleum floor felt good beneath me, so I laid down. The tile was refreshing to my whacked-out body.

The impulse to throw up again came as a tilde wave. I coughed up whatever remained in my stomach from the night before.

The dreadful taste of vomit resided in my mouth, I struggled to get up and brush my teeth. I ran the minty toothpaste over my teeth, leaving a refreshing taste in my mouth.

I looked up at myself in the mirror. The blues and green eyeshadow blotched my skin. I look like a madman. My eyeliner was smudged and running down my face. I cupped water in my hands and scrubbed my face. The colors mixed in the sink, making an ugly brown.

A loud ringing interrupted me, the phones from the kitchen and office rang off the hook. I trudged into the office, my costume sticking to my aching body. I answered the phone, putting it to my ear.

Another agonizing cramp hit me, I doubled over in pain. Argh, why is this happening?

"What the heck Mr. Jackson?!" A familiar voice blasted from the receiver.

"We've been trying to contact you for three hours!!" Steinbrinner yelled. I looked to the clock on the wall: 10:30. He screamed something, my mind was to occupied with the time and how late I woke up.

"What?" I croaked.

"The pictures!? Have you not seen the pictures!?" He asked, I sighed. What did I last night?

"What pictures? Oh god my head hurts." I rubbed my temples to sooth the grievous pain.

"Of you and Prince kissing!!" Steinbrinner shouted, there was a camera last night.

"Oh god, I knew it. I knew I heard a camera last night." I muttered, biting my lip.

"Well that picture is everywhere!! Ever tabloid and gossip channel on TV!!!" Son of a bitch. I sat down in the leather office chair, breathing heavily.

"Uhm, what should I do?" I said mostly to myself.

"Do a press conference, tell everyone you were drunk and it was a mistake!" He grumbled. I gripped my belly as another influx of pain hit me. Jesus...