The nirvana of the world should never hamper a set plan. Just because the world is oblivious to your pain, it doesn't gift the right to refute the world's oblivion by surrendering to it. A world of perfunctory and agitation isn't a world harder to strive in. Small steps and a opened mind will get you far, but it is a fiery passion and deep determination that will see you through. Sometimes falling is the hardest part, but it's how you stand to your feet, that determine whether or not your journey is worth it.

My journey is worth it.

"Wacko without a Presley? New stories have been whirling for months about the rumored and sudden split between the princess of the King of Rock and the estranged King of Pop. Pictures of the two-weeks before their supposedly split-were published a few days ago. Apparently there's been a cheating scandal. A true Dirty Diana in the mix. Who would've thought that it was the one woman who painfully twirled his heart-Jesse Rose Edmonds?" The television blares, displaying the terrible evidence of a past forgotten.

For the past few days this same story has been circulating among the media. So many reporters and renowned television networks have devoted themselves to recovery the details about the past relationships of Michael Jackson. From England to America, the accusations have swirled. Jesse and I being involved in a love triangle, a web jealousy, a cheating scandal; there are so many suspicions.

But what these vile people don't understand is, I nearly lost the love of my life. Cliché, yes I know. These reporters and their cameras cannot capture nor decipher the pain that I felt. These reporters can never and will never understand our story.

"Edmond! It's Edmond dammit!" Jesse stresses, reaching for the remote.

I let out a heavy sigh, allowing her to release her well earned frustration. The past few days have been tough. We're preparing for a wedding and I'm trying to finish this tour on time. The struggle of juggling time for Noah, wedding planning, baby planning, and configuring tour blueprints; is very laborious. Now we have to up the ante with the constant publications about a situation we've already dealt with.

I haven't talked to, nor have I seen Lisa since last May. The very day she walked through Neverland gates-releasing herself of my hold-was the very last day I ever saw her. Therefore with this new uprising bedlam about "Wacko going back to his old ways", is absolutely blurring. The media just comes up with this most twisted and wicked stories out of nowhere; it's really taking a toll on my life-once again.

"Don't feed into it Jess, please calm down." I finally sigh, after watching the poor woman attempt to turn the television off three times-with the remote turned upside down.

Undoubtedly, Jesse is taking this the hardest. She has to relive most of the pain. Yes, I experienced heartbreak when she left me, but I found solace in Lisa; Jesse had no one. She has to listen to the intricate details of "close inquirers" that supposedly knew Lisa closely during the time we were "courting". She has to try to push away those past thoughts of feeling unloved, unwanted, and undesired; all because of the media's yellow journalism.

I know it's not easy and I've been trying to make amends for it. I'm sure there is a better way to deal with this problem, diminish it even; Jesse and I just have to remain on one accord, otherwise our progress will be made in vain.

"No Michael! No! I'm sick of this shit! We've always been very private about our lives... And there it is all over the news! Did you know that one of those little friends of hers days they heard you two had sex... More then twice a day! Apparently, your girl-toy wasn't as quiet as you thought! That's not something I want to know! Not at all! Micha-"

"Wait,wait,wait. Are you seriously turning this on me?" I interrupt, returning the remote onto the coffee table.

This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. Jesse and I never essentially talked about my relationship with Lisa-this is why. I don't want her taking steps back, not now, we're too close. I know it's easy for me to say that Lisa meant nothing, and although that is partially true, it won't heal the wound that is apparently still a burden.

Jesse knows I love her, but given the trial and error we went through to be able to sit in this very living room together, planning out our future; I'm sure she still has doubts. It hurts, but it's understandable. I used to tell her that I love her and return to Lisa and give her the one thing Jesse wanted the most; myself.

She remains quiet, releasing her own exasperated sigh. I allow a few more silent minutes to pass before sighing once more and trying again.

"Babygirl, don't let them get to you... Please."

"Easier said than done Michael. Easier said than done." She expresses, her words soft-spoken.

Without another word, I scoot a little closer to her; only pausing to see if she'll allow me to touch her. When she doesn't move away or hint any displeasure for my attempts, I wrap gentle arms around her torso and lean us back into the cushion of our love seat.

Our life will never be idealistic. Plans will falter, mistakes will be made, and frustrations will be the result; that doesn't mean we allow these setbacks to tear apart the foundation we've built upon for nearly nine years (give or take the three years we founded our friendship), I can't and refuse to give up that easily.

"You're right but, babygirl... We've been through so much. Why let their words hurt you now?"

I genuinely want to know. I have noticed that with each new story revolving around my past relationship with-Lisa; that's it. The answer has been in front of my eyes this entire time; Lisa. Lisa being the innocent by-stander of Jesse's and I "split", has consequently plagued us. She's the woman who I held on my arms, while Jesse watched on with suppressed pain. She didn't mean to, but she has permanently dented a covert trust between Jesse and I; I have to earn that trust back.

My inward epiphany stood corrected when she didn't respond. Instead of defending herself or her claims, she seemingly draws back. Her eyes flickers across the room with her hands fisted; she's holding back something-I know exactly what it is.

"I can sit here and tell you that everything is okay..." I begin, releasing my hold of her. "But I know it isn't." My eyes search for hers; they never find them. "I know I screwed up in the past. I know we said some things we didn't mean. I know I tried to replace you. I also know that you're still hurting..." I exhale, closing my eyes for a moment.

It's hard returning to that time. It's a hell within itself, returning to that time where I didn't know if I was making the right choices or even if I was right for Jesse anymore. I made her feel less than, what respective man-that is helplessly in love with an equally respective woman-hurts that woman? I'm sure Jesse has asked herself a similar question.

The obvious elephant in the room has a question of its own lingering about; how do we truly fix this and move forward?

"So how do I fix it, Jess?"

Her pecans finally find mine. Looking in them, I find the sheen of truth. I don't understand why Jesse and I have this problem with truly expressing ourselves. I'm almost positive that most of our problems would've been resolved if we truly abided by the "Open and Honest" rule.

I guess we've both exiled ourselves to the selfishness of: "If I don't tell them, things will work out fine"-now we've seen what that has done to us; caused nothing but reoccurring chaos.

"I want to move on." She simply implies, her voice still small and soft-spoken.

"Tell me how." I push for more.

Her right hand releases itself and blindly searches for mine, squeezing our palms together before her voice regains my attention.

"Just love me, like you already are."

"I can't if you won't let me. You have to let go of the past, Jess. I know it's hard, babygirl... I'm going through it too. You're not alone in this, please believe that." I stress, gently tugging her back into my chest. "Lisa, was a plug. I was trying to fill a void, but I couldn't. I can sit here and bash my relationship with her, but I won't. She was there, that's it. I have what I've always wanted."

"But you did love her-" She pauses, sucking in her lips mutely.

"Not like I love you. Not a day or night passed that I laid next to her and thought, damn... this doesn't feel right. I've said it once and I'll say it again, I did... in some way, love Lisa...but I was and will always be in love with Jesse Rose." I lift my free hand to her chin, gently lifting it with a index finger. "You have to let that go, Jess. I'm here with you. I'm marrying you. I don't want you hurting anymore... it hurts me. Please tell me this is the last time I'll have to reassure you again, please."

"Okay..."

I gently guide her towards me, fighting the urgency I really felt for her lips. I know it will take time, but we will leap over this hurdle and gorge on the memories, one day. No one said this would be easy, and I wasn't counting on it. I'm just glad my future is still eminent and promising.

"Good." I simply whisper before taking her lips in mine.
_________________

The billowing of emotions I feel each and every time I step into this realm, is simply surreal. I don't have the time to ponder on the last harangue printed in the media just hours or days before. I don't have time to guilt myself for a previous argument (with John) over the Chandlers last check. I just don't have the time to cower or worry about the past and present woes of my life because here, none of that exists anymore.

A simple beat can take me to the most pleasant place of subtle enigma. A lyric chanted from the crowd can fill a once gloomy day. A carried and shared melody between my admirers and I can empower the unbreakable bond of solitude; here, I am simply just-free.

"You know..." I pant into the microphone.

The restless crowd's screams fluke an octave as I try to express my gratitude in the most peaceful way I can. I love my fans, and I'm sure they are highly aware of my adoration for them, but I feel the dire need to remind them. Each and every concert, there are new faces, therefore each and every concert, I have to gift a new speech of gratitude. My fans have done so much for me, and I try my hardest to find a way to repay them.

"I love a lot of things in my life..." I continue, retrieving my "sweat rag" from Michael Bush. "My little boy, my fiancé-" I pause, stopping to chuckle at their high-pitched screeches.

I personally think that my fans-our fans have been all but supportive of Jesse's and I "reunion. Although the constant satirical words and offenses against Lisa should have been a dead giveaway, I never took notice until now.

My fans really care for my well being, and now more than ever, my family's as well. I truly respect them for that. I can't believe I ever cowardly hesitated, in the beginning, to share my love for Jesse-convincing myself that they wouldn't accept her. Looking back now, I'm glad I went through with it anyways.

"But I love you most of all. You are the ones who stood by me. That's hard to find in a world like this-loyalty I mean. I-I just want to thank you." I pause once more, trying to gather my thoughts.

I'm very cautious about giving to much of myself away. I know that any and everything can and will be used against me. But, then there's the thought of being as raw with my fans as I am with Jesse; these beautiful people are my family.

They deserve my honesty.

"I'm not use to doing things like this..." I chuckle off the lump in my throat.

"Michael! Michael! Michael!" The crowd instantaneously encourages.

I glance to the right of the stage, somehow finding those lovely pecans among the array of scurrying workers. From a dim lighting, provided by a curious stage light, I catch a glimpse of her supportive smile and take it as the courage to continue.

"I've gone through a lot as you all may know, and I have to be honest, there were times were I felt alone-in the dark." I continue, turning my attention back onto the suddenly silent attendants. "But you guys have been the light through the darkness. I just wanted to thank you." I inhale deeply and smile at a battle won. "Watashi wa anata o aishiteimasu Fukuoka, Nihon! (I love you Fukuoka, Japan!)"

The audience roars with approval of my message, chanting their own language of love. I can only smile for a few more seconds before turning away and quickly bowing before scurrying off. Once I find my haven backstage, I am met with the thieves of my heart, beaming proudly.

"Michael, baby that was so sweet..." Jesse coos, trying to stand at a distance as Michael Bush and Karen try to revive me.

After a few second of panting, and gaining the strength to shoo of Michael and Karen, I step up to my beauty and take her lips in mine. Out of all people that I am blessed to have in my corner, Jesse and Noah are the key angels. I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have them, I always try to show them.

"What was that for?" Jesse giggles once I break the smooch.

"Do I have to have a reason to kiss my girl?" I playfully retort.

She gives me a look before glancing around and leaning into my ear.

"Don't be an ass wipe, I have a surprise for you."

"Surprise? What is-"

"Dad-ee! Da-ee!" Noah's voice hushes me, his eager patters nearing Jesse and I.

My smile, if possible, widens. I love seeing my baby boy after a concert. I had been exiled to seeing him after I return from my previous concerts, but even then, seeing him afterwards, was the best part of my night. I'm all but elated that I am able to see my little Nutty, backstage again; it makes me feel complete.

"Hey Nutty!" I chirp, instantaneously dropping down to my knees to meet my little one in a warm embrace.

All the while, Jesse and even some of the staff stops to look onwards with adoring eyes. I can't say that I blame them, who doesn't love seeing a toddler interact with their mommy or daddy; it's adorable.

"Did you enjoy the show, Nutty?" I ask once he releases my neck.

"Yes! Yes!" He squeals, clapping his hands together as he shuffles his feet elatedly.

I chuckle at his little "Happy jig" and muster all of my remaining strength to scoop him into my arms. I am a proud papa of this little boy. Everyday he's learning, growing, and showing improvement.

Yes, he can finally say words like, "Yes" or "No". He can make out "Good", but he can definitely say "Bad". He has few favorite words and although he struggles with those words, he doesn't fight the effort of trying, and for that I couldn't feel anymore blessed to experience this with him.

"Good, Nutty. Was mommy good to you while daddy was gone?" I chuckle, earning a playful eye roll from Jesse.

Noah looks to Jesse, his eyes bright and playful. I couldn't help but chuckle at the silent exchange between the two before he glances to me and giggles wildly. This is why I love my little family, there's something special about us. We have this unspoken, most certainly, in my world, unheard of bond; something I'm appreciative of having.

"Yes, mommy was good to her baby. Now, if daddy can hurry up, we can leave before the crowds get crazy..." Jesse hints, walking over to me to peck Noah before giving me a little love as well.

"Nat-tee! Nat-tee!" Noah breaks us apart, earning giggles from both of us.

"Alright crew, let's head out..." Bill finally approaches us, not even five minutes later.

"Ready? Are you ready, Nutty?" I coo, following Bill down the hall; Jesse's hand fleshly squeezed in mine.

Noah nods before letting out a yawn as we pass a few saluting staff members. This only causes Jesse to coo and me to peck his little forehead. My poor little Nutty, all tuckered out. I think we all deserve a good nights resting, but I will definitely not be resting before I learn of Jesse's "surprise"; I'm making sure of that.

"How do you know Hazel is the one, she's your bosses daughter." I frown, watching him replace the telephone onto its receiver.

He glances at me silently for a moment, obviously trying to configure a statement-a believable statement. What I don't understand is, how a man like my own brother can "Fall in love". Yes, he sings about it, but if I know one thing about my brother, is that he doesn't practice what he sings.

"What does that have to with me loving her?" He finally replies, his voice hinting a certain agitation.

He's been questioned a lot about his motives for proposing to Berry's precious gem; Hazel Gordy. He always brushes off any questions that are raised, and I know there's a reason for his defensiveness; I just don't know if he'll actually tell me.

"I know you Jerm-"

"Do you really Michael? Hm?" He challenges, his gaze a bit more challenging than his tone.

I remain quiet, both taken aback and rendered speechless by his backfire. I'm sure his question is a rhetorical one. He wants me to defy him and I refuse to do that; I'm not here to fight.

"Because if you knew me... You would know that I don't just screw everything with legs! Okay? Believe what you want, but I don't!" He continues, he's body language giving way to the apparent anger building.

Contrary to popular belief, Jermaine isn't the dog that many believe he is. Yes, he has had a handful of "budding romances"-even more than my ten fingers can count- but each time, he would remain with that one "fish" until another one swam by; yes, that was a contradiction.

"Jermaine, I'm just saying... You're swimming with sharks. You know Berry would cut off your arms and legs if you break her heart, why take that risk?" I reiterate.

His chest rises with a heavy inhale while his fingers tangle and detangle themselves. By no means am I trying to chastise him for having these feelings, this attraction or "Love" so strong for Hazel Gordy, that he drops down on one knee and asks her hand; I'm just trying to understand it.

"You know that feeling when you out there singin' them songs to those girls? That feeling in your stomach that makes singin' to them girls feel just right?" He pauses to lick his lips before leaning back into his recliner. "That's how I feel when I'm with Hazel. She brings out that fire in me, you know? You wouldn't understand, but just imagine that feelin' and try to see it my way."

With that, I closed my eyes and tried to follow his instructions. I hear the cheers and chants of young teenage girls. I see myself zipping and sliding across the stage as I sing to them about my lack of love. I feel that pleasurable burn inside me as I take an unexpected hand in mine and serenade the glossy eyed "lucky one". Then, I finally see Jermaine, kneeling down on one knee.

"I see it..." I sigh contently, opening my eyes to a equally content Jermaine.

"That's why I want to marry her. Sometimes love doesn't have a reason? It ain't like someone is puttin' a gun to my head, saying, marry the damn broad; I want to do this. You'll find someone. And I ain't talking about those little stale fishes you play with. I'm talking about the filet mignon that's going to not your ass down a few notches, but you won't mind at all. You won't mind because you'll do anythin' to keep her. That's how I feel about Hazel." He expresses in one breath.

I can only nod. I've had a conversation like this with Jermaine; it's oddly comforting. I definitely have a new and different perspective about my older brother, and I like it.

"Thank you." I finally exhale.

"For what?" He chuckles, rising from his recliner.

"The lesson. Thank you."

He nods his head silently, turning on his route to the stairs. I take a few silent minutes for myself, allowing his words to resonate well with my mind before I rose from my seat. Who would've thought that Jermaine would leave me speechless, due to his own wise words? Life is strange that way.

Life is definitely strange.
_______________________
"So are you going to tell me this secret or..." I trail off, stepping out of Noah's suite.

It's been two days since my last concert and my rather mildly emotional speech to the adoring fans in Fukuoka Japan; and I have yet to learn of this little "secret surprise". Now we are in Tel Aviv, Israel and I'm still raising query about this little "epidemic" of hers.

She flashes me her infamous smirk before stealing my hand and leading me into our part of the suite. Once we make the surprisingly long trip into our suite's living room, she sits us down and giggles.

Sometimes I wonder about this woman.

"So... Is it a nice massage that will end with me and you and maybe some chocolate covered strawberries? Ooh! I got it... You bought so lingerie and you want to 'try it on' for me? I-"

"Mind out of the gutter Michael, I already have a cake growing, I don't want to double that." She giggles once more, reaching underneath the loveseat.

I inwardly pout; this woman has been teasing me a lot lately. I haven't had any "Jesse lovin'" in awhile; so she can't blame my generative advances. I'm just a man with wants and needs, I don't just want Jesse, I need her.

"One of these days, I'm going to handcuff you to our bed and show you how wrong teasing a man is." I whine, earning furrowed eyebrows.

"Michael... I would never-"She pauses, dropping her sentence with an eye roll.

"Don't knock it until you tried it. I think you'll look good in leather, damn. You should wear something leather next time we-"

"Michael!" She hisses, trying to hold her poker face before bursting into laughter. "I'll think about it..."

"Really?!" I nearly squeal.

"No."

"Damn." I sigh, feigning disappointment. "It was worth a try."

She shakes her head and reveals a three-inch, emerald binder. Lace trimmings, miscellaneous fabrics, and sticky-notes peep out of the binder. I tilt my head to the side, focusing a bit more on the probable contents of the binder. But it isn't until I read the finely written cursive, title, that a smile spreads my lips.

"That's it?" I glance up at her.

"Mhm... The official lay out." She dreamily replies, a equally wide smile on her face.

I turn my attention back onto the ivory binder, silently opening it. My eyes trail and widen at the sight of our dreams-our ideas, coming to life. I would be lying if I said that I'm not just as, if not, more anxious about seeing the real thing.

I truly am, living for the countdown.