*Marilyn's Point Of View*

For the past two weeks, drama has made itself comfortable in our home. Bringing nothing, but misfortunes and misunderstandings. First with the media and now between Michael and I. One moment thing's are settling down, the next Michael and I are in a heated discussion or the media has 'leaked' Yet another ridiculous story about us.

It has really taken a toll on our family as a whole. That's why I have come to the decision to relinquish further problems, by solving them head on. As of now, Jasmine and Dylan will remain in Florida with my mother and Patrick. Brandon will stay in Florida as well, since he has found a nice apartment. I wanted him to continue focusing on his future career and forget David.

That's my next thing; David Taylor. That man has done so much harm, but it is hard to erase him out of the picture. With him being married to Brandon, we still have to put up with him for six month's to a year. With that Being said, we also have to fight to keep him quiet. For the simple fact That if he is angered he will 'accidentally' tell the media about his sham marriage. We definitely do not need those problems.

"Where's my notepad... Damn I can never find what I need!", Michael grumbles to himself, entering the bedroom with a determined gaze in his eyes. Lately Michael has been stressing himself crazy about making this stupid single for David. Turns out David has quite the vocals; sadly I can't say the same for his personality.

I sigh and grab the worn out tablet from the night stand. Slowly walking up to the anxious man, I quietly hand him the tablet.  "Here.", I simply say, once he stops pacing to acknowledge me. His face relaxes and he quickly pecks my cheek. "Thanks mama.", He quickly replies, walking off into the hallway.

Walking into the bathroom, I glance at myself in the mirror. I am thirty-eight, and I still have insecurities about myself. I often wonder what a man like Michael see's in me. I mean his actions tell me everything he won't verbally say, but sometimes I yearn to here his sweet word's along with feel his passion.

I don't want to just make love, I want to cuddle, talk, go on dates; something.  But life won't allow that to happen. There's too much that needs to be done. So much that needs to be solved. Love and affection will have to take a raincheck. I just hope it doesn't last for long.

*Michael's Point Of View*

"Joseph, I seriously need you to fly Demi over here. I need to see how the album is going...", I exhale, flipping through lyrics. I'm in desperate need of organization. With balancing my clients; mainly Demi and trying to create a single for David, I am all over the place. So Joseph is in Florida trying to pick up my slack.

Which brings me to our current conference call. "Son, Demi is on a vacation. She's visiting her family. You know she canceled her tour to tend to her dying uncle. So you will have to be patient.", He speaks calmly through the speaker. I pause and glance at the charcoal phone on my desk. As much as I hate to admit, Joseph is right.

I can't make Demi fly all the way over here from Denver. I contemplate a little more before replying. "Umm, What about Kelly?", I ask, unsure of that question. Kelly actually surprised me and the rest of the world with big news; she's pregnant. Now, of course I know not every pregnancy is planned, but I still would like a head's up.

But now I have to prey on the success of Demi's next upcoming album; Skyscraper . Joseph let's out a long sigh from the other end. "Michael, I'm going to be honest with you. You need a backup plan. You need to brand yourself.", He stresses. I roll my eyes towards the phone, imagining it to be Joseph.

This man swears up and down he knows everything there is to know about business. I won't deny that my father is a pretty smart business man, but he isn't a prominent one. Which stresses me out more because I'm in need of a determined, straight forward publicist; not Joseph.

"Well, I just don't want to 'brand myself'. Not now. The media is doing enough 'branding'.", I exhale, finally taking a seat in my office chair. Joseph is silent on the other end for a moment. "I got it!", He exclaims, chuckling wildly to himself. "Hot dammit! I got it!", I shake my head at his dramatics and wait for him to expound.

"Damn, can't believe I didn't think of this before... Well anyways, here it is. Bella Jackson. Your wife's new all natural make-up line. Right?", I rub my chin trying to understand where he is going with this. By the smile in his tone, I can tell that he is most definitely confident about this idea. "Yeah...", I exhale again.

"Well, you should team up on her next commercial. I already have idea's! Hot Damn I'm good! Look, don't you worry. I got this son. I'm telling you, you and Marilyn will be a household name. Damn... I'll have to call you later so I can get this thing going.", He concludes.

"But what about David?",-"Fuck him! I want my grandson to drop his ass like a hot potato. You need to talk to him and David. Settle this before you drive yourself insane. Now I have to go, Love you son.", He stresses. I smile to myself, enjoying his last statement. "I love you too dad.", I reply, waiting for him to end the call.

When the dial tone sounds off, I pick up the telephone and return it back to it's receiver. Feeling a little better, I decide to take a break from the lyrics and check on my girl's. With the other kid's gone, I make sure to give as much attention as I can to them. Sadly, I think I am failing. I tend to get lost in my work and abandon Jordyn and Marilyn.

Yuli and Ryan usually pick up my slack, which I appreciate, but I still feel terrible in the end. "What's cooking mama?", I ask entering the kitchen. Marilyn is slaving over the stove with what smells like lemon peppered tilapia and brown rice. Jordyn is sitting at her mini tea table, drawing on a notepad. Sighing heavily, Marilyn turns to me.

"Tilapia and rice...", She replies dryly. Hinting her tone, I try my greeting with Jordyn. "Hey peaches, What's wrong with mommy?", I ask sweetly, squatting to Jordyn's level. Pausing from her mini project, she glances at Marilyn then me. "Mommy mad... at daddy.", Even though her response isn't the one I wanted, I can't help but smile at my beautiful daughter.

I return to my original standing position and turn to Marilyn, who was leaving to set the table. "You stay right here okay?", I instruct Jordyn. She continues drawing, concentrating really hard on her scribbles. I chuckle to myself and slip out of the kitchen. I walk into the dining room right when Marilyn is just finishing her set up.

"Mama... why are you mad.",-"I'm not.", She answers quickly, glancing over her set up. "Yes you are...", I counter, walking towards her. "Do you want tea or water?", She asks ignoring my defense. J sigh. "Why are you ignoring me?",-"I'm not.", I pinch the bridge of my nose in annoyance. I can't stand when she does this. I don't even know why she's mad.

"Yes you are. Damn, I swear you don't have to be so... Just tell me what's wrong?", I stress, stopping her trying to walk past me. She looks past me, rolling her eyes. "Michael, our child is in a kitchen full of knives and other dangerous crap... move.", I stare at her for a moment then reluctantly move. I watch her walk past me before deciding to follow. I'm going to get to the bottom of this.

"Okay. You have Jordyn, what's your problem?", I ask, watching her sick up Jordyn. Carrying Jordyn into the dining room, She ignores me once again. "Babygirl what is wrong?! You're frustrating me.", I stress as we take our seats at the table. She places Jordyn in her booster, before taking the seat beside me.

She continues ignoring me as she prays and begins eating. I can't even eat right now. I'm peeved and frustrated. I'm trying to keep my composure for the sake of Jordyn, but Marilyn is making it hard; really hard. "Are you going to eat?", She asks finally breaking our silence ten minutes later.

"No.", I huff, standing from the table. She quietly watches me exit. I have no time to deal with her mood swings, too many problems on my plate now. I'm done arguing. I'll try again another day...

To Be Continue...

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