An Unexpected Turn| Michael Jackson

Chapter Eight: Tattle Tale

POV: Michael January 25, 1992 11:00 AM

    I was starting to get concerned after that night of meeting with Nicholas and his family. I didn't receive not one phone call or voice message from him, and I was worried that maybe my little faint episode scared him off. You ruin everything you touch Michael. My thoughts taunted me, as I picked at my plate full of bacon, cheese eggs, and french toast. A meal that I would have devoured within minutes, but my consciousness wouldn't let me. Why did I have to be so careless? The one time, in a long time, I actually meet someone that I can trust, and maybe start a friendship with, most likely wants nothing to do with me. This always happens: As soon as I meet someone that seems kind, trustworthy, and generous, they leave me. Without a word, just gone. I know I may be unstable, not very eye-pleasing, and awkward, but that doesn't mean I don't have feelings. I just want to be loved like everyone else without any judgement. Is that too much to ask for?

    I chuckled, stuffing a fork full of my breakfast into my mouth, and chewing a little angrily. That's never going to happen. Everyone that comes into my life either takes advantage or leaves when they get tired of me. It's like a ritual: Waltz into my life, gain my trust with empty promises and fake friendships, and leave my heart broken and lonely, making me wonder if it's something I did wrong. Apart of me feels like I should take some blame for this; I keep letting it happen, as much as I try to avoid those kinds of people, I always put myself into these horrible situations that leave me hurt. I love too hard, and I trust too easily, but I can't help it. I just want to be held, kissed, swept off of my feet, cared for, listened to... I just want someone to love me for me. Even just a friendship, a genuine one, which is why I confided in Nicholas. He came off as a trusting, non judgmental individual, and he seemed like he cared about me. Then again, it's not like I knew him for a long time, and that was my fault.

    I finished my meal, and stared at the blank television in front of me, and my thoughts began to cloud my mind. What made him suddenly change his mind after I left that night? Did he really care like I thought he did? Did Rayna tell him to stop communicating with me? I frowned deeply at that thought. I didn't feel comfortable around her, and for some reason I wasn't that fond of her. She is sweet, a little pushy, and kind of annoying, but she didn't come off as spiteful. She had every right to tell Nicholas to end the project with me, because let's face it, who wants to deal with that type of client? However, the thought of her doing that made me feel bitter, but I couldn't make assumptions.

    A soft knock at my door took me out of my thoughts. " Michael?" Oliver peeked his head through the door " you OK?"

I leaned myself back on the headboard with a pillow against my back beckoning him to enter. "Yes, come in, do you need anything?" He walked into the room with a troubled look on his face, and he sat down on the edge of the bed facing me. He was quiet for a while, his hands folded in his lap and his gaze at the bedspread. I started to get anxious, and placed a stray curl that escaped my hair tie behind my ear. "Is everything OK Oliver?" I leaned forward trying to bring his attention to me. I pray that it isn't something horrible. I studied his face, his look of sadness transformed into a look of disappointment and frustration as he clenched his jaw.

    "So when were you going to tell me about your little incident at the Bright's?" My heart dropped. I sat up straight and looked down at my fidgeting hands in my lap, refusing to look at him.

    My mouth repeatedly opened, and closed as I tried to figure out what to say. "W-what are you talking about?" I stuttered. Is it too late to play stupid?