Michael entered the mansion beside his son and the girls all sat on the steps as guests roamed around the halls and parlors. They stand and Prince approached the stairs knowing it was only right to apologize.
"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for and I'm very sorry I acted so rudely. Paris, I'm sorry I shouted."
She shrugged and she says, "It's okay, bub. I'm sorry if I made you think I was forcing you here." He shook his head and Michael appeared at his side, "No."
He half smiled, "I needed to come." Michael tells the girls to bring Prince into the library to catch up but he stopped Paris by the arm. He pulls her away and she spat, "Daddy what are you doing?"
He kept his face stern and he drug her to space beneath the stairs away from everyones view. He reached in his pocket and reveals her pill bottle. Her entire attitude flipped and her shoulders drooped.
Michael breathed fire and he said, "I didn't raise you to pop pills. I didn't raise you to steal." His lips quivered and he made the room cold. His presence chilled in place of his eyes watering and he spoke grave and desperate, "Atleast I hope I didn't raise you to pop pills.."
Michael's addiction was long gone but he knew there were many days were he had to be around his children and the pills at the same time. Many days he put on a mask about being so strung out he could barely walk. Paris felt tears swell into her eyes and Michael chewed in a tense scold,
"You weren't crying when you were taking!"
She held her mouth and he seethed, "Paris, you knew that I struggled with pills! You knew that and you still chose to do this. I was a different person on pills, Paris. Please stop this.."
She shook her head and she said trying to make words. Paris had felt alone more than ever after moving away from Janet and she found herself in a new group of friends. Friends who enouraged her to pop away whatever she felt.
She missed Michael more than anything in the world and his death was the only thing defining her.
"You don't understand-" she tried and Michael blew up, "Don't say that I don't understand, Paris. I understand being addicted! I was addicted for ten years of my life!"
She cried more and she yelled out all at once, "I'm trying to get help! But who do I have to help me right now!!" Make-up smeared down both her cheeks and Michael was quiet. He fixed his eyes and Paris sobbed into her hands. Her boyfriend had just left for the second time and Janet was busy with a new baby. Rehab wasn't an option without someone to help her through it. Michael pulls her close and she jerked away. Tears stained in her cheeks with lines of washed away foundation and Michael stood his ground.
"You are a Jackson, Paris Katherine! Jackson's get back up when they are knocked down." She stomped away and she sputtered into the library echoing the walls, "Prince! We're getting out of here!"
Prince scoffed and he says, "Paris that's my car!" Paris demanded the keys but Michael forbidded she go anywhere tonight. And she didn't.
Prince told everyone goodbye and Paris watched in vain as her father tossed her Xanax over the gate, into the street.
~ Later that night~
"Where do you want me to sleep?" Paris asked sharply traveling up the steps after that nights dinner.
"There's people here and all the rooms are booked."
She argued more and Michael answered smartly, "You'll sleep in my room. And you better be asleep by eleven."
She cut her eyes, snapping back, "I am not twelve years old!"
The girls tried not to listen from the parlor below and all three cringed insync to that comment.
"Well, don't make decisions like a twelve year old then! Goodnight." Michael remarked and she slammed the door to his room then Michael vanished.
The girls listened but there wasn't a sound to be heard as they cleaned up after the guests' dinner. That mansion atmosphere had never been so tense.
~~ 10:59 pm
Paris typed on her iPhone with the light shining in her face as she layed in Michael's bed and Michael opened the door. He stepped inside and said, "What did I tell you?" She rolled her eyes and said, "I'm cold, I can't sleep."
"Then, actually put some clothes on and maybe you'd be warmer?" He scoffed and she fluffed her pillow frustrated,
"Whatever."
Michael chewed the inside of his lip and asks heated, "Are you gonna be this difficult all night?"
Paris had never been a difficult child and teenage years were something he never experienced with his children. He never knew it could be this exasperating.
He shut the door as he entered and he sat on the bed. She layed with crossed arms and she shook. Her limbs trembled and her teeth chattered. A cold sweat ran down her brow and Michael sighs, "Those aren't chills Paris. Those are withdrawls." He stared at the wall numb and he closed his eyes tight hoping it was all just a dream. But the dead couldn't dream.
Paris covered in a comforter to her neck and she says, "Whatever it is, I'm freezing and I have a headache from hell."
He changed into his illusion and he said, "Here, I'll lay with you."
"No." She smacked with her lips and she sputtered, "That's weird."
"This is my bed, now scoot over." Michael said with tight empathized lips and she does as told. He let himself generate heat and she rested her head on his shoulder just barely. Her trembling ceases just for a moment and she laughs, "I remember those times..when I thought there was a monster in the coat inside my closet. At night I told you it would growl at me.."
Michael giggled under his breath and he says, "Yeah and truth was, it was me next door snoring. Snoring like a freight train on the nights that I could get sleep."
Paris chuckled with a wide smile and she said, "I would come knocking on your door at night and as soon as you'd wake up, I would go back to my room, thinking the monster was gone."
Michael horse laughed loudly remembering it so well and Paris did the same. Their laughter simmered into giggles and Michael sighed not being that happy in a while and Paris nestled in more comfortable. Michael lied and he stared at the top of his canopy bed. Paris turned on her side realizing she might have to try and sleep in this rigid atmosphere and Michael raised up in bed.
Paris closed her eyes and Michael felt hesitant to speak. He dropped his head and he said, "Paris?"
"Yes daddy?" She says looking over her shoulder and Michael heard the drowsiness in her voice. He tried to keep it short but his nerves were ragged, "Did you-.....did you know that Prince got a paternity test?"
She turns over and she muttered sleepily, "Yeah. Janet found out through a news network and she was really mad. I guess I was kinda mad too, but Prince was going through a lot. Somedays, I think he might miss you more than I do."
Michael nodded and he sees Paris closing her eyes. He knows she needed rest. He begins to get out of bed and he said under his breath, "Well goodnight, baby. Get some rest." She covered up to her neck and she groaned to him goodnight. Michael trodded away with disdainful eyes and he mutters unable to stop, "Paris, you know that you both are my children right? You know that, blanket too."
Paris nodded in her sleep and she yawned, "I do. I've....always...known.." He kissed her head and he shut the door and he finally made himself leave the room. He closes the door gentle and he sat there beside the door way. There in the hall, he sat thinking of the times he could've been a cleaner father. He never wanted to undermine his ability of raising three kids on his own but at times he was at his wits end. His spirit was restless and he knew it would be an eternity slow moving if he dealt too much with yesterday.
~~ Dee had her homework spread across the coffee table there in the library and she let the fire and one gas lamp illuminate her studies. She flipped through her U.S. history text book and scribbles down each footnote onto index cards for her test in the morning. She tapped her piggy slippers to the orchestra blaring through her ipod.
Timpanis thundered and snare drums thudded in the back bone of the symphony and she sat fully focused. Michael entered the library and he looms down to his arm chair. Adjacent to the fire, the orange glow danced across the tile until his shadow interrupted their rhythms. He sat with a long face and a tight mouth. It was never a good expression on Michael and Dee takes out her earbuds. Michael held his chin watching the fire and she was unsure if he knew she was even present. She tossed her long braid back behind her back and he spoke staring into the fireplace, "I hope I'm not bothering you." Dee shook her head and she answered coming close but trying to stay away from his personal space. He was full figured which only meant two things: he had something on his mind or he was ready to bounce off of all four walls.
Seeing that he wasn't geared and ready to do anything. It couldn't have been good. Dee fidgeted putting her ear buds back into a bundle and she asks soft yet unsure, "I'd ask if something is on your mind, but I feel like I already know the answer."
Michael held his head and he answered after a moment trying to gather words, "I can't tell you how many nights I've sat infront of this fire."
He swung his bangs back behind his ear and he scoffed, "Maybe that's where I went wrong. I looked to these bricks and logs in hope of solving my problems. Maybe that's it..." He pursed his lips, "But I know better. I know my daughter better. I just never dreamed she would do anything like this."
Dee sat down beside the arm of the chair and she listened to him go on. Lost little rivers that were running through his mind, "Maybe I could've exposed them to this. But god I hope not. Maybe I should've sent them to live with my mother as I tried to clean up."
He bounced his leg with restless shakes and he rambled, "But I didn't want to be without them. Not for a second. It was never about money, it wasn't about records or music catalogs. It wasn't about what show I was performing-" Michael blinked his eyes and Dee swore she saw the wetness of tears against his brown iris'.
She let go of a despairing sigh and Michael finished, "Ever since their first breath, everything has been about them." He shook his head, "And I couldn't give them the father they needed. Although I wished with all my might." Dee felt her lip quiver and she sniffed. Michael looks down beside his chair and he asked, "Dee? I didn't mean to make you sad I'm sorry."
She shook her head and she knew it couldn't have been Michael that started Paris' addiction and she knew what she needed to say. "You know how I told you I moved away from my house when I was eighteen?" Michael nodded and he says,
"Yeah. Back in Tennessee, where you're from?"
Dee nodded and she says wiping her face, "Where I grew up it wasn't like Memphis or Music City in Nashville, I grew up in bad places. There was drugs and liquor and addiction everywhere." Dee fixed her weight and she leaned against the chair as she peaked Michael's attention, "My dad was a dope dealer. My mom was depressed. I didn't have a good home life. I hate drugs becuase they've been apart of my life for much longer than I've cared for."
Tears streamed down her face and Michael turned listening, "My father chose drugs over me. But look at me now. I'm over here in LA running a Bed and Breakfast in my Idol's mansion with my two bestfriends, zooming through college and conducting symphonies on the weekends."
Michael smiled and Dee finished, "My point is, everyone makes their own choices. Paris chose this for herself, she didn't follow in your footsteps because she's on a path of her own right now." Michael smiled and he says, "I never knew that about you, Dee. I would've never guessed."
She shrugged and half smiled, "It's in the past."
Michael turned and he still peered over the chairs armrest, down to her, "I learned a new trick. Would you like to see?" Dee smiled and she says excited, "Yeah show me." Michael turned further and he looked out across the library and he became quiet.
His face concentrated as Dee only heard the crackling from the fire. Michael outstretched his hand and his palm opened to reveal one of his ghostly, beautiful butterflies. It flutters faintly from his hand, leaving a glowing luminescent trail behind its wings and Dee watched. But then more things began to appear as the butterfly took flight. Down the steps like something from a vague, misty dream,
Paris.
When she was child stomped down with her brother chasing her. Blanket followed them next and giggling was heard in the air, echoing in the room.
Past Michael in their form stood at the bottom and Paris wrapped her tiny arms around his waist. She laughed and looked up at him with her baby blue eyes, "You're it, daddy!" She laughed and Michael picked her up into his arms happily.
He swung her to his side and he spun around, "Me? I thought I wasn't playing!" She laid her head so softly on his chest and Prince clung to Michael's legs along with blanket like the little tykes they were and Michael laughed,
"Now how am I supposed to be it, huh?"
The children all giggled in their mist apparition and as Michaels butterfly passes infront of their view, they disappear. The library was quiet and the glow from their spirit faded into dark. Now was only the light from the fire.
Dee blinked in shock and she asks softly, "Was that something you made up? How'd you do that?" Michael shook his head and he says, "I can project my memories. Like little deleted scenes that I can show like a play. I wanted to show Paris."
Dee smiled lovingly and she nodded honest, "She would love that. And you know we're always here for Paris, Prince, all your children. Especially you." Michael half smiled as he knew the hostesses would die befor letting him down and he held out his arms.
Dee came in close to hug Michael's neck and he sighed pulling away, "I'll let you get back to your studies. I don't even know what time it is.." Dee checked her pink wrist watch and she says, "It's almost three.."
Michael gawked with wide eyes and he says shocked, "Dee, you should be in bed! My word!"
She shrugged it away in her fluffy robe and she sits back down onto the sofa with her binders and foot notes. "Nah, my exam is at two this afternoon, I'll just sleep in."
They both chuckled but Michael headed back up the stairs, "I'm gonna go check on Paris, but you get some rest I mean it!" He pointed to her with falsely stern eyes and she smiled, "I promise I'll be in bed soon." She popped one headphone back in her ear and Michael bidded, nodding his head, "Goodnight, Dee. I love you."
"I love you, Mike. G'night."
She listened to her symphonies again with her attention turned back to her note cards and Michael finished back up the stairs. He noticed the bags under her eyes and as she yawned flipping the page in her text book. He shook his head and chuckled under his breath.
He swished his hand around conjuring spirit and he says,
"Don't know when to quit, girls. Do ya?"
He opened his palm and lets another butterfly flutter away in it's ghostly mist. He manipulated it down and it lands on Dee's shoulder. It blinked it's wings softly and she smiles letting it wiggle into her hand, across it's fingers it danced until her eyes became heavy.
The butterfly coaxed her head to fall against the couch pillows and it laid her down gently. She fell into a deep sleep and Michael appeared beside her inplace of his butterfly. He swings his jacket off, away from his shoulders and he laid it across her as a cover. He pulls the earbuds away from her ears and he nodded, "Get some sleep."
~~ 4 weeks later
"Daddy, I don't think we should do this.." Paris said wrapped up in her knitted poncho that matched her sunglasses and Michael helps her onto the roof. He held the woven picnic basket and he held her arm tightly and she squirmed moving herself from the balcony over to the roof looking out the lawn.
"Come on, we used to do this all the time!"
Paris holds onto her sunhat at the wind almost flings it from her head and she scoffed,
"Yeah emphasis on 'used to' ..."
Michael giggles and he points over the ridge that surrounded Figueroa Valley. Paris puts her sunglasses on her head and she gasps with her mouth dropping, "Oh wow."
The ridge dipped in the orange blanket of sunset and the rays cascaded down through the trees.
The purple sky that still showed twilight started to pour over the horizon and Michael sighed as the warmth of the sun passed right through him once again.
"That's beautiful..."
Michael nodded and he says, "You remember when we'd sit up here, P?"
She nodded and half smiled, "We'd bring pancakes up here and eat until we were sticky with syrup. It'd be all in my hair and you'd cringe and say, 'well let's run you a bath'..."
Michael belly laughed and Paris tossed around an apple in her palm cheekily grinning. She bites in and Michael asks her as the garden lights flicker on in the evening dimness. "Paris, can I ask you something?" She crunched into the apple core and nodded.
Michael leaned back crossing his arms and he says, "Did my addiction fuel your own?" She wiped her mouth and suddenly he had her full attention. She tossed the apple core to the few remaining birds and she sighed. She blinked in despair and said, "Daddy. Sometimes, when we'd go places and stay at people's houses I knew that you would be taking things."
She rubbed her arm uncomfortably and she continued, "You'd act funny and sometimes it would make you angry. Angry with your friends and sometimes angry at the world."
She grabs his hand and she says honest with her eyes fixated, "But this problem with pills is my own doing. Not yours. There is nothing about me that you should consider your fault. And I know that you raised me better than that. And if it hurt you I'm sorry. I love you."
Michael shook his head and he says, "I want you to watch something.." Paris becomes curious and Michael braced himself as he knew she needed to see his new trick.
He twisted his hand around and he opens his palm to a pink butterfly. Pink being Paris' favorite color as a child. She smiled widely as her butterfly flutters away to the adjacent side of the roof and in it's landing, it rippled the air. In the ripples, Michael's memory came to vision with it's misty apparition of them sitting on the roof years ago.
"Daddy daughter day.."
Paris said watching as her lip quivered. Tiny Paris wore her pink Hello Kitty dress and Michael smiled petting her hair, trying to keep her pigtails out of her syrup as they ate pancakes on the roof.
Paris pointed out in her toddler wonder to all the birds that sang across the sky and Michael's eyes lit up under his sunglasses as he showed her each one.
Paris smiled and she watched more and more in the memory of that wonderful day. Michael lets the scene fade away as the wind rushed by beautifully and it danced away like mist. Paris turned to her father and she chuckled with eyes glassy and wet.
"Okay, okay. I won't be such a dickhead anymore. You got me."
He laughed and he pulled her into a hug. He kissed her forehead there on the roof and he tells her still trying to grasp that dirty word falling out of her mouth.
"Paris." Michael says holding her close and she replied, "Yes daddy?"
"Do I need to make you gargle some soap?"
"Oh my god."