Tatiana's POV
"You look beautiful.." Michael whispers as I peek at him watching me through the mirror. I feel my cheeks grow warm as I fix the Chanel quilted fanny pack belt that hugs my hips.
A/N Tatiana's OOTD. I love putting these together)
I couldn't help but stare at Michael, my mouth slightly open. His legs were covered in vinyl pants similar to mine, with a large gold belt. He wore a bright yellow shirt that was unbuttoned exposing a fitted white tee and his usual black leather jacket covered in gold buckles. His fingers were wrapped in white tape, his curly hair down with loose strands falling in his face.
I couldn't help but be turned on.
"What?" Michael smirks in amusement as he licks his lips slowly.
I blush realizing I'm staring as he chuckles biting his bottom lip, before grabbing me by my waist pressing my body against his.
He moves his head down slightly, brushing his nose against mine as his other hand gently rests on the side of my face. "Do you honestly feel like doing this?" he asks softly staring into my eyes. "You truly don't have to. I'm not forcing you..."
We were on our way to another Bad Tour press conference. Even though all of the attention is usually on Michael, the crew attends at times alternating band mates and dancers.
"Michael, honestly. I'm okay...you don't have to keep worrying."
For the past couple of days, Michael remained guarded and worried ever since that night. He rarely would let me out of his sight and was extremely protective over me, always keeping me near.
He gently wraps his arms around my waist as he stares at us in the mirror. The longer I've been with Michael, the more I've learned how to read his eyes which say more than his words.
And they were coated with worry.
"Michael, I'm fine. Honestly I can handle it--I need to work. I can't hide away forever."
Which I've done for the last 4 days. And it was mostly out of embarrassment for the fact I couldn't handle what had happened by myself...and everyone either witnessed it or heard about it.
And I couldn't stand the thought of everyone most likely viewing me as helpless "poor Tatiana".
God knows I've been trying to get rid of that reputation ever since Michael and I had bad blood, and the many incidents that followed after.
He stays quiet as his warm fingertips brush against my skin as he traces the rim of my pants carelessly. His lips brush against my neck softly, his soft breath fanning against my skin leaving goosebumps against my skin.
"I love you." he whispers before pressing his lips against my neck softly.
"I love you too." I smile lightly turning my head slightly as I kiss his lips softly. "Now stop worrying."
"You know that's not gonna happen, girl." he chuckles as I roll my eyes grabbing my bag off the chair.
"It should."
"But it won't."
"I'm not a baby."
"But you're my baby." he chuckles as he follows me to the door. In a quick motion he pulls me back by my hips. "And that makes me daddy."
He smirks pulling away before busting out laughing as I push him away by his chest, playfully slapping his arm as I giggle.
"You're an idiot." I snicker lowly as he giggles, biting his lip as he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, as we walk down the hall.
I gently grab his hand in mine, running my thumb over the cuts and light bruises on his knuckles, as he sings to himself, holding my hand tight.
It was strange to imagine Michael, who was so soft spoken and gentle, gave someone a brutal beating. I mean--sure Michael had his moments of anger, but nothing like that...and it was all because he wanted to protect me.
"Yo, when did you start wearing heels, Mike?!'
I turn my head seeing Greg walking towards us down the hall grinning.
Michael mutters something under his breath as I giggle.
"We don't look that much a like..." Michael moans as Greg raises an eyebrow.
"Man...ya'll look like you came from the same kit kat. Go to Maury and make sure ya'll weren't separated at birth cause that would be some straight redneck, hillbilly shit if you were dating your brother or sister."
"Oh come on...just because our hair is the same--"
"Mike, she is the female version of you. Just slap a booty on you
and there's Tat."
"You're such a schmuck." Michael scoffs, trying to hide his grin.
"I mean basically you guys are in love with yourself because you both are clones of eachother."
"We have different personalities though." I point out.
"Ya'll are both stubborn." Greg snickers as Ricky steps out of his room joining us. "I mean the only thing is that you are more feisty and Michael is quiet."
I chuckle as Michael smiles. "That's what makes us interesting."
"Nah, it makes you whipped." Ricky teases as Michael pushes him out the way, laughing.
"You're just mad cause you ain't got a woman, Ricky." Greg snickers.
"Says the guy who calls his chick, "Snowflake". I would've called her power puff with all that hair."
"Oh yeah?" Sheryl hisses as Ricky turns around wide eyed.
"Sheryl...well don't you look lovely this afternoon? I love what you did to your--"
"Oh save it." She scoffs pushing Ricky out the way as they all begin to take jabs at each other, laughing loudly.
Michael looks over at me as he rolls his eyes making us both laugh out. I slowly found myself beginning to relax as we walk towards the elevator meeting Frank, who locks eyes with me.
He breaks out into a smile, pulling his usual accessory of a cigar out of his mouth. "Tat, it's good to see you. I see you got Mike up on time." he chuckles, and gently leans in my ear. "And I don't want you worrying about what happened. We're taking care of it."
I couldn't help but be surprised. For one, Frank wasn't exactly on board with Michael and I's relationship at the moment. Two, even though it was Michael's doing....he fired me. Three, sometimes it was hard to tell who was in charge between Michael and Frank.
Ever since I had gotten back on the tour, our relationship has been awkward and kind of...well....strained. It seemed now, however, Frank was genuinely concerned about me.
"Thank you." I smile gently squeezing Frank's arm, as I feel Michael gently squeeze my hand as we step in the elevator.
**
"Mr. Jackson! How do you like being here?"
"Michael! Can you tell us what's the difference between you as a group performer and you as a solo artist?!"
"Are you and Prince really having a feud?!"
I sigh lightly as I shift in my seat as they continue to blast questions left and right at Michael. Even though I was lucky enough to just sit there in silence, representing Michael's posse, my head was spinning with the millions of questions that are being shot around the room.
I glance over at Michael who sat two seats away from me as he smiles, and nods answering questions calmly. Trust me I would've been paying closer attention to the questions, but 9/10, I've heard them all before with the same answers he prepared and memorized.
"Please! One question at a time!" Frank calls out before motioning to someone.
And in that moment a question was asked no one was prepared for.
"Mr. Jackson, is it true only a few months ago you were taken to Western Marbella Hospital due to a suicide attempt?"
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Hey guys. I'm really sorry I haven't updated.
My nana (grandma) had a health scare, that has made me dedicate my time on taking care of her and focusing on her.
I've been seeing everyone comment "update" like crazy and sending inboxes. I haven't been in the mood to really write, or have had any inspiration and honestly I really don't dig this chapter much. I had parts of it written previously before, and the rest I really winged it.
There was so much pressure to update so I rushed through it.
I promise I'll try to either rewrite or do better for the next chapter.
Thank you for your patience.
xoxo,
moonwalkergal