The Way You Make Me Feel - A Michael Jackson Love Story

Chapter 74 - The Reunion (Part 1)

Hey Guys! Before I start the story I was just wondering...

My votes, and reads have been going down. I was just curious is there anything I can do to improve the story or anything?

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Tatiana's POV

My extremely annoying alarm clock jolts meawake, the clock numbers bleeding red. 7:00 AM.

“God damn it.” I mutter groggily, my arm sliding out from underneath the thick covers and slamming the ‘snooze’ button. I snatch my arm back in, rolling myself back in a cocoon with the help of my blankets from the cold.

It's been a month since I've spoken or even seen Paul. And within that month it's been full on crazy.

With the headlines splashed with : PAUL AND TATIANA SPLIT? From the paparazzi barging outside my home yelling and screaming questions about our relationship.

 It’s the morning I depart California and onto Dallas, Texas to open for Chris Brown. Ever since I've gotten better, my phone rings nonstop. I even hired a new manager, Adrianna.

I look over at the clock again and groans.

 I always wake up early to get ready, but my body isn’t letting the leave the bed just yet. My flight is at 2PM and I have to be at the gate at 1:30.

"Fuck..." I mumble putting my head under the pillow. I haven't even bothered packing yet.

Nine minutes later the alarm clock screams out again, and I slam it, and  rolls out of bed slowly. Immediately the cold air hits my skin and I shiver as I stumble my way to the bathroom turning on the lights. I squint my eyes tiredly, having trouble getting used to the brightness.

I turn my sink faucet on and brushes my teeth, washes my face, trying to wake up.

And now that my eyes are focused, my vision is clear and I look in the mirror and notices I have my BAD tour sweater on, with my name written on it. I swallow hard for a moment as the memories of he who is not to be named. I stare at the "Bad" logo and rolls my eyes.

“Ugh.” I groan. “Fuck it.”

Mental Note: Burn it when I come back.

I hop in the shower real quick and when I get out I tie my long dark red silk robe around my body, I blow drying my hair straight before re-curling it with my curling iron. I brush it out watching it as it goes into soft waves. I look in the mirror doing my makeup. I keep my makeup soft, yet smoky and seductive. I have a soft, shimmery nude on my lids, a darker matte brown for the crease and black cat-eye eyeliner. My eyeliner had wings, like they always do, making them more intense and dramatic. I keep my lips into a soft nude matte pink/brownish color.

I stand in the middle of my walk in closet, examining my wardrobe in deep thought.

“What am I gonna wear?” I ask myself under my breath going through racks. I change into a black halter top, black jeans and a black leather jacket and black heels with a strap on the ankle.

“All this dressing up for the damn airport.” I huff, finding some accessories. I slipon a gold Michael Kors watch, with a Chanel quilted backpack.

Sweatpants and a sweatshirt sound amazing, but I have to remind myself....there's paparazzi everywhere. And it's crazy how fast they can catch up or find me.