Chapter 33

I'm almost having a panic attack, and I know that Michael can tell because of my death grip around the steering wheel.

Paparazzi are following us?

What do they want? And most importantly, how the hell did they know that Michael is in the car!?

I'm trying desperately to get a hold of myself but I'm failing quite miserably.

"Bells, relax. Just relax alright? I know they aren't going to hurt us."

I haven't even been Michael's girlfriend for two weeks and I'm already under a lot of stress.

I feel his hand slip over my knee. I didn't even realize that I was shaking before I stop because of his touch.

He pats it gently and draws circles around on my skin gently with his index finger.

"Come on baby. They're gone." He assures.

Not daring to look back, I just look straight ahead and make my way to my apartment. Fast.

--

Twenty minutes later, we arrive. It took me the remainder of the ride to get my breathing under control.

We're sitting in my driveway and I still have a tight grip on the wheel.

"Bella, babe. It's alright." He reaches over to me and pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear.

Out of nowhere, I burst into a pool of tears.

Sighing, Michael unbuckles his seatbelt and walks around to my side of the car.

"Don't do this to me baby. I hate seeing you cry. God, I hate it."

He turns me toward him and wraps his arms around my waist.

Saying that his life is getting to me is an understatement. I don't think I've ever been this pressured before.

If I tell Michael that I change my mind about living with him, he would definitely be crushed.

But God knows that I'm terrified.

"What would they have done to me?" I whimper and cling onto his shirt, the tears still streaming.

"Nothing. I would have protected you. And I swear to on my life." He says softly and wipes my eyes delicately.

I sigh and look at him. I'm in absolute amazement that this is his life. Constantly hounded by the paps.

How does he handle that?

Can I really handle that?

"Let's get you packed. Okay?" Michael says.

Oh, right. I'm moving in with him.

..Already.

I take the key out of the ignition and get out of the car. He and I walk together and enter my apartment.

I flip on the lights and head to the bathroom to take care of my puffy eyes and red face.

When I come back out, I hear noises from my room and I know it's Michael.

Looks like he's looking through my closet.

I drag out a suitcase and dump all of my clothes from my closet in it.

Then I get another bag for my shoes and grab all of them from under my bed.

"Bella, are you okay?"

I look up and notice that Michael is leaning against the wall, watching me.

"I'm fine." I shrug.

Getting the message that I'm still pretty shaken up by what happened, he questions me no further but still looks skeptical.

After about twenty minutes of silent packing, the doorbell rings.

I straighten up and make my way to the door. "That must be Sammi."

"I thought she wasn't coming over?"

"Well, maybe she decided to anyway."

I reach the door and open it. And it's not her.

"Excuse me Miss! Is Michael Jackson here??"

A swarm of them are here, blinding me with the flashes of their demon cameras.

The question running through my head.. How?

Standing there like a mute, I'm cracking under the pressure until Michael runs up to me.

"What the fuck? Get out of here!" He screams, immediately shielding me from the bright flashes.

"Mr. Jackson! Who is this woman? We all have to know!" They continue to pester, obviously ignoring what Michael said.

He looks straight into one of the cameras and says, "This is Isabella Simmons and she's my girlfriend. Now, get out of here!"

What he says causes a frenzy as he finally manages to close the front door.

He did not just say that.

"Babe," he caresses my cheek, "did they hurt-"

I back away from him. "Don't touch me."

He frowns, frustrated. "What?"

I suddenly outburst, "What the fuck was that?!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you realize you just told the whole world about our relationship?"

He frowns deeper. "Well, they wanted to know and-"

I shake my head incredulously. "Did it occur to you that maybe I'm not ready to be in the public eye yet? AT ALL?!"

He blows air through his mouth slowly. "I didn't-"

"No. I'm done."

I start walking to my bedroom.

"Done? Bella, done?"

I whip around and face him, with those unwanted, angry tears pricking at my eyes.

"I'm done with you Michael! It's over!"

--

Chapter 33

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~Joy ✌️