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|Monday, December 18th, 1986|
|Saint Paul, Minnesota|
|Cray Plaza|
|8:00 pm |

Michael

I was currently in downtown Minnesota, in a meeting with a filming crew that had agreed to join in helping me create all of my short films for the BAD album. So far, since not all the songs were finished, we had to only pick and choose the songs that were done to make films out of.

We were sold on Smooth Criminal, Speed Demon, maybe Liberian Girl, I wasn't sure on that one yet. I also wanted BAD to be on the list, but ever since Prince turned it down, I don't think I wanted to do it anymore. It wouldn't be as good as I pictured in my head. If he had just listened to the song first and heard me out, then I probably wouldn't be as upset. The fact that he didn't give it a chance was my problem. I cursed to myself, "Fucking Idiot."

A young gentleman that looked like he was in his early 20s, looked up at me from the information he was writing down on his notebook, "Is there something wrong, Mr. Jackson?"

Thank god I'm black, if I wasn't, you would of seen my face turn a bright red from embarrassment. I quickly covered my mouth, wanting to slap myself across the forehead.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized sincerely. "Nothing at all, I'm sorry."

He nodded, completing forgetting that I just cursed out loud and continued to write his notebook.

Well, that wasn't awkward at all. At the meeting, everyone including me and Bill, were sitting at a large table. Some people were engaged into their own conversations while I was engaged into my own thoughts. I was letting this work me up too much, I know he's an asshole, but I dealt with assholes everyday, I shouldn't be shocked.

Two seconds later, I heard the door open making a loud squeaking nose from someone coming in. I look up from the table to see who it is, my heart instantly drops to the floor and my blood starts to boil.

"Sorry. I'm fashionably late," Prince said, popping his collar to his black leather jacket, behind him was a very tall, huge, white man who had a white long beard. He actually would pass as Santa Claus if he wasn't standing behind this fool he calls his boss. I'd know I would hate working for him, he probably makes his staff's life a living hell. Besides, I'm still trying to figure out what he's doing here. This was beyond inappropriate. 

The men at the table were sitting there in shock, some were looking at each other in a  confused way and whispering. Jesus, he really had the nerve to do this in front of all these people.

"Fancy seeing you here, Michael," Prince stupidly said in a fake manner. I have no idea how he knew that I was here. I looked around at everyone in the room staring at me, my heart began to beat fast and I smiled nervously. This was so humiliating. He knew what the hell he was doing.

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