November 13th, 1998
Michael was in the living room with Katherine and the girls. Nicole seemed to be getting used to walking around on her own and was leading Noelle around, loudly professing something in gibberish.
“That girl is gonna be something else.” Katherine said, with a chuckle.
Michael nodded. “Yes she is.”
Nicole waddled over to Katherine with Noelle close behind.
“What you want?” Katherine asked, holding up her hands. “I ain't got nothing.”
Michael giggled. “She probably hungry. Let me go see if Mariah wants something.”
Katherine nodded.
Michael got up from the floor and went upstairs to look for Mariah. She’d been on the upper level of their master suite almost all day. When he got upstairs he heard the thumping bassline to Off the Wall.
She must be thinking of sampling me again. He thought, smirking.
As he got closer to the bedroom, faint moaning accompanied the song. He raised an eyebrow, cautiously opening the door.
His jaw dropped.
Mariah was laying in the bed naked, frantically rubbing her vagina with one hand, the other pinching her nipples.
“What are you doing?” He exclaimed.
Her eyes snapped open as she shot up. “Oh...hey baby.”
He took a step back. “What-”
“I- I was-”
“Masturbating to-” Michael glanced at the television screen, confused. “Me?”
“Would you rather it be someone else?” Mariah joked.
Michael glanced at the television screen once more, an image of his ten years younger self gracing the screen with a body-roll during a particularly sexual performance of Rock With You at his Bad World Tour.
It might as well be someone else…
Michael stared down at the floor, scrubbing the tip of his toes on the wood. He folded his arms in a subconscious effort to protect himself. He lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. “I was downstairs…”
Mariah raised her eyebrows in concern. She covered herself with the bedsheet and sighed, lowering her voice in shame.
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you come get me? I could’ve helped…”
Mariah nodded her head, slowly, staring at the bed in reflection.
“Can you say something?” He asked, almost like a child speaking to his mother.
“I don’t really know what to say. I don’t have an excuse. I just thought you were doing some really sexy stuff.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Was I doing sexy stuff or was I sexy?”
“Well, you were sexy-”
Michael noticeably tensed.
Mariah swiftly followed her thought. “But you still are too!”
Michael pursed his lips, twisting them to the side. His eyes were distant and despondent. He looked down at the TV once again.
Mariah fumbled around the bed for the remote, shutting the TV off when she finally found it.
Michael batted his eyes down to the ground.
Mariah wrapped and tied the bedsheet around her and walked up to her husband. She grabbed his hand. “Hey, look at me.”
He focused on her lips.
“You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.”
Okay...
“And everybody knows it.”
Ha!
Mariah slowly let go of his hand.
“I love you, okay? I- Just ten years ago I was sitting in a dingy living room watching a bootleg copy of Moonwalker. You were my first love, Michael-”
“You don’t have to lie to get your point across.” Michael muttered under his breath. He knew Mariah heard him but she didn’t retort.
Mariah shot her eyes down to the ground. “I’m sorry baby. You know I love all of you, though. Just because this happened doesn’t mean I don’t still love you just as much as I did when you literally knocked me off of my feet.”
Michael clenched his jaw. “I understand.”
“Okay baby? Because I would do anything for you, you know that.” Mariah said, leaning her head up against Michael’s.
“Mhm.” He quietly responded.
Mariah wrapped her arms around her husband, but he didn’t hug back.
November 13th, 1998
Michael picked up the phone and started on a number. The number felt vaguely familiar but hauntingly so. He immediately put the phone down.
What am I doing?
He stood up from his chair and took an introspective stroll around his library. He studied the books carefully, trying to distract himself.
But his thoughts taunted him. It was like he couldn’t look at anything in the room without seeing the chilling face of his own past. He found himself staring at a book in front of him: Aesop’s Fables.
He opened the custom leather bound book and read the words to himself, taking in the language of the prose. But his attention span wasn’t immune to inevitability.
[Flashback]
“I don’t really believe in that kind of stuff. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to people like us.” June explained.
Michael smiled at her. “But it’s still a good point, right? I mean, in theory.”
June, stroking her hair behind her ear, gave a timid smile. “Yeah. In theory I guess. But I don’t think it’s possible that people like us can do what everybody else does. We can’t walk outside everyday and be thankful for the sun. How can you be thankful for something that forgets to shine on you?”
Michael twisted his lips to the side.
June continued on. “And, you know, we can’t experience it in the same way they can. I can’t tell who actually cares and who doesn’t. I can’t tell what men in my life actually want from me. And I only have my dad to blame for that. Just like you. You can’t appreciate a good relationship because your parents never showed you what that was like. You can’t accept your own beauty because your parents never showed you that acceptance.”
Michael slammed the book close. How could he be believe Mariah truly found him beautiful if his own father couldn’t?
November 14th, 1998
After performing on the Oprah Winfrey show, Whitney was happy to go back to her hotel room and relax with a good book and some tea. Mariah was coming back with her because she didn't want to stay at her condo alone. She told Whitney that she and Michael weren't really speaking to each other, but wouldn't elaborate further.
So Mariah sat across from Whitney in the limo, absently staring out of the window.
She's so gloomy.
“What's wrong baby girl?” Whitney asked.
Mariah looked up. “Huh?”
“You sitting over there staring out the window like you done lost your best friend.” Whitney said. “So what's wrong?”
Mariah rubbed her arms nervously.
“Okay well...don’t judge me.”
Whitney laughed. “What did you do?”
Mariah looked down. “Michael saw me...you know...doing stuff.”
Whitney blinked. “Stuff like reefa?”
“No! Like...like I was…” She made a subtle gesture downward. “Like…”
“Oh you was touching yourself?” Whitney interrupted.
Mariah nodded slowly. “I was looking at a tape of one of his tours-”
“Which one?” Whitney asked.
“The Bad Tour.”
Good choice, though I would’ve gone with Triumph Tour myself.
Mariah continued. “And so yeah, I was looking at it and just got carried away. Then he came in and he was so hurt. I might as well of had another man in the room, that's how upset he was.”
I know I said I wouldn't judge but...you know what I'm trying to get right with my god. I'm gonna keep my thoughts to myself.
“Well you know he's really insecure since you-know-who left him.” Whitney said.
Mariah threw her face into her hands. “I know! I don't even know why I did that, he probably thinks the worst.”
“I don't think-”
Mariah continued. “I gotta figure out how I can make this up to him.”
“And how you are you gonna do that?” Whitney asked.
Mariah shrugged. “I don't know, but I will.”
November 22nd, 1998
Slam.
“Who the hell is that slamming my-” Michael walked into the entryway to find Mariah standing in the middle of the floor. “Oh.” He promptly turned away and walked back into the library. He and Katherine were reading with the girls but reading soon turned into lunchtime.
Mariah ran upstairs, presumably to put her things away. With Mariah doing a round of performances and Michael trying to work out a deal with the label to finance his album, it had been just over a week since the two saw each other.
Michael fed Noelle a piece of a sandwich before walking back into the kitchen to make himself one.
He opened the refrigerator to pull out the lunch meat and cheese. He turned around and-
“Jesus Christ!” He shouted, clutching his chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“I didn’t sneak.” Mariah replied.
Michael narrowed his eyes. “Either way.”
Mariah took a deep breath, watching him build his sandwich for a moment. “You know, I’m sorry.”
It’s been a week…
“I didn’t mean for that to-”
“Just stop. I don’t care. It was weeks ago.” He replied, in as friendly a tone as he could muster.
“You know I love-”
“I slashed the budget from my album in half and Sony still won’t pay for it.” He interjected, avoiding eye contact with his wife.
“Michael, will you look at me?”
Michael just barely heard his wife’s plea.
“No.”
He could see her body grow rigid out of the corner of his eye.
“Baby I’m- I’m trying to be support-”
“How’s work? Did you have fun at your shows?” Michael asked.
“I love-”
Michael abruptly stopped on his sandwich, slamming it down on the plate in front of him.
“Mariah, I can’t deal with your emotions right now! Didn’t you hear me say I can’t even pay for my album? What part of ‘I’m pretty much unemployed’ do you not understand?” He shouted.
Mariah winced. “Baby, I'm sorry. I'm trying to understand, I really am.”
He picked up his plate and started out of the kitchen.
“Really Michael?” Mariah shouted, as she followed him into the living room. “Will you just talk to me?”
He turned around, eyes narrowed. “I just tried talked to you and you're still stuck on some shit from weeks ago. This is why I don't tell you nothing, you always somewhere else. I could tell you that I was dying and you'd be talking about something that happened three years ago.”
She dropped her eyes to the floor. “Well excuse me for trying to ease your mind. I knew that it bothered you so I tried to address it, which is more than you can say.”
“I don't really care, Mariah! I been in this industry since before you were born and I threw all that hard work away protecting you. And you can't even be grateful for that. That's what I'm concerned about right now.” Michael paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He then said, coolly, “Look, as of right now, unless it's about funding this album I'm really not trying to hear it. I'm just not.”
Mariah's eyes lit up.
“Well what if I could help you?”
Michael turned around, starting to walk away.
“Michael, I'm serious.”
He stopped in his tracks. “What could you possibly do? Hm? What is it that you can do, that I can't?”
“Well for one, I'm not the one who sent Tommy to the ER.” Mariah started. “He’ll actually have a meeting with me.”
“But you're not going to do that.”
“And why not? Michael, I can get you that money. Let me do this for you.” She pleaded.
Michael sighed. “You know what? Do whatever you want. I can’t keep defending you everytime you do something stupid.”