Her Hershey eyes melt my heart. Her lips imprison mine. Her tears caress my cheek. I don't want her to leave. No I don't want her to leave. The stillness of time has allowed me to hinder this moment. The congruity of our emotions makes the pain become even more of an unbending habit of refusal. I want her to follow her dreams. I push her, I lift her up, I hold her, just to keep her dream abreast. I don't wish for her to give up, but I don't want to let go.

"I don't want you to leave" I finally admit, my tears now grazing onto her cheeks.

Her eyes open, silently agreeing with mine. We haven't even neared the airport yet, and we already are planning on running away. The selfishness of love trances us. Though we weep in remorse of separation, our cries resembles words of encouragement as well. We only want the best for each other, even if that best means we won't see each other until five months from now.

"Re-Remember our first plane ride?" She hiccups, trying to control the hoarseness of her voice.

Leaning upwards against the seat, I nod making an effort to regather myself as well.

"Yeah. I hate airplanes, but you were real excited about it. I felt like a big baby" I chuckle lightly, the happy memories evaporating my tears and warming my heart.

She nods, joining in on my giggles.

"And then you tried to attack me with Bubbles! You know it's not appropriate to teach a Chimpanzee the ways of food fights. That wasn't nice"

My giggles erupt into laughter as she pouts, poking her lips outwards like a kinder at my response. She can be so childish, I find it utterly attractive. A woman who is in touch with her inner child as well as her inner vixen. I love it.

"But you looked cute with cheese-balls in your hair! I could've eaten you up right then! You're so precious babygirl" I blush, turning away before she could notice.

"God, those were good memories... Such good memories" She sighs, glancing out into the lively world around us.

I gasp silently at her natural beauty. The way the suns rays hit her mahogany skin is just erotically beautiful. I still have no clue as to how I became so lucky and blessed with such a harmonious human being. How can I let her go now?

"Miss Edmond... Your plane will arrive in twenty minutes" Phil informs us, rolling down the partition.

I hadn't even notice so much time had passed, it feels as if we just departed our hotel. God this is terrible.

Her hand reacts before she can as she squeezes mine desperately. I return her squeeze, nodding for Phil to give us a few more minutes. When he obeys, we remain silent for a few long minutes before she breaks the silence.

"Baby, I can't procrastinate. It will only make this harder" She painfully whispers, watching the guards ready her luggage.

Knowing she's right, I remain silent only to steal her attention with a kiss.

My lips desire hers and for another unknown reason, so does my body. I need her. I can't let her go.

"Stay with me..." I whisper against her ear after breaking the kiss.

"I can't..." She whispers in return, pressing her lips against mine.

"Just stay..." I persuade, lifting her onto my lap.

Her words remain unspoken as my lips steal her sense of sound and thought. With every contact of my lips against her sweet skin, my hunger grows for her and my eagerness rises for her as well. We are both already heaving for each other.

"Baby I..." She moans, rolling her neck backwards as I dip her to taste the bit of her exposed chest.

"Don't...." I groan, readying my hands to relieve her of her cashmere sweater.

Somehow, she gains the will to fight me, placing her hands over mine just as I was exposing her lean stomach.

"No baby. I have to go... You do too" She sighs, daring to climb off of me.

I watch her scoot onto her side of the limousine, readjusting her shirt. What I wouldn't give to rip it right off of her. How can she leave me like this? I can't let her leave unsatisfied either, this is torture.

"Five months Michael" She forces a smile, just as Bill opens her door.

I maintain a steady breath as I watch my beaut reluctantly leave. I want to call for her, but Bill has already shut the door. I glance at my watch, docking the time at seven minutes. She has seven minutes to board her plane. That gives me one minute to make a run for her, two minutes to try to convince her to stay, and four minutes to escape a crowd after failure. It's worth it, she's worth it.

Checking for Bill and Jesse, I quickly lunge for the door and zoom off. Rafael and Scotty are the first to spot me as I sprint towards Jesse and Bill, who are in plain sight. There's gasps and there's chants, but none of this matters. I need to see her one last time. I need to at least watch her board the plane.

"Michael! Dammit! Get him! I don't get paid enough for this shit..." Scotty grumbles from behind me.

The guards are quick, but I'm quicker. I'm closer, they are right in front of me. God, I can't contain myself.

"Jess! Jesse!" I yell at the top of my lungs, unfortunately drawing attention to myself.

"Oh my God! It's him! He's here! Michael!" A group of girls scream.

I ignore them, watching for Jesse as she turns around, scanning the growing crowd.

"Jess! Jesse!" I screech again, waving my hands frantically.

I glance at my watch for a split second, I have three minutes to reach her and two minutes to make it back, I've wasted two already. Glancing up again, there she is. My heart skips a simple, magical beat only to seemingly draw her closer as she sprints into my arms.

"Why did you get out of the car ass wipe?" She giggles through sudden sniffles.

I squeeze her tighter.

"I couldn't just let you leave without properly saying good bye babygirl" I whisper

Not releasing our tender embrace, she sighs in satisfaction of my response.

"People are watching us and I surprisingly don't care. I love you Jess. I only want the best for you. You can do it babygirl, I know it. I'll see you in Rome" I painfully whisper, holding back another round of tears.

"I love you too Michael" She sniffles.

We hug a second longer before Bill gestures for me to hurry. Reluctantly releasing her, I glance at the awing crowd, blushing violently.

"In Rome..." She whispers, stepping backwards.

"In Rome..." I repeat, slowly allowing her fingers to slip through mine.

I watch her jog away in oblivion to the chanting crowd behind me. She shares glances with me, checking to make sure I never move from my spot, and I won't. The only thing that takes away my attention is the door that closes behind her as she begins her journey into the other side of the airport.

"Michael! Michael!" The fans continue to chant as I stand for just a mere second before being quickly whisked away by Bill and "the boys" while our back up guards controlled the fans.

"What the hell were you thinking Mike! Huh?! You weren't fucking thinking! God I..." Bills words are drowned out by my thoughts of her.

I just can't wait for Rome.

>

It has been a long month since that morning at the airport. Aside from Bill's none stop badgering about my safety, I surprisingly felt at ease. There is something about letting the very person or thing that you love go. When you release the person or thing, you are filled with hope that the person or thing will return. That contrues my peace with Jesse's departure.

In that moment, as I watched her disappear behind the door, I had come to realization. A realization that painted Jesse as the woman I want to be with for the rest of my life. No one will feed my heart, my soul, my mind, nor my desire the way that she does.

I don't know what may happen in our future, but just as long as I have Jesse, I know I can take it on. I simply can't live without her.

Though the days were long, the nights were seemingly more elongated with the anticipation of laying next to her every night. After each show, I would return to my suite and call out for her in expectation of her voice to ring through out the four walls. When her voice never returns my joy, I sulk in misery. I sulk until I can no longer take it and decide to call her.

With the different time zones, It;s hard to figure out if it's her good morning or my good night.But, we somehow make it work. I literally thank God for the invention of the telephone. I don't know what I would do without it. I can't go without hearing her voice each night. It kills me.

"Another great one Mike. I told you, you could do it. Didn't I Dan?" Ricky, my bass guitar player chuckles, pointing towards my pianist, Ricky for back up.

I've just finished another electrifying show. It was simply spectacular. Not only was the show besought as one of my greatest performance's thus far on the Bad tour, but a surprise visit by the one and only Stevie Wonder topped the decadent cake with flamboyant icing.

I felt extremely honored when he proposed that we perform our song Just Good Friends, as a surprise to the lucky fans. I couldn't have asked for a better concert.

"Thanks guys. You did great, real good sounds out there guys, keep it up. God bless" I smile, proceeding to my dressing room.

As much as I love performing, I hate touring. It's a tireless game of time management and deprivation. Time management for dates and set lists. Deprivation of sleep, appetite, and peace. I only do this because I love my fans.

They deserve to see more than what I can put into an album. It's the imprinted picture of my performance that will never leave their memories or become tangible to life mishaps. I want them to have more than a record they can loose fifty years from now, I want to leave them with a different thought of me. I owe them that much.

Slipping into my dressing room, I plop into my make up chair and inhale deeply. Catching a glimpse of myself in the vanity, I spot the blotches that willingly reveal themselves. My perspiration revealing the very imperfection I've desperately tried to conceal, seemingly to no avail. I finally have a hypothesized diagnosis for these spots and blotches; Vitiligo.

Vitiligo is a skin disorder that eats at the pigment of your epidermis, leaving behind ivory blotches. There is no know treatment for this skin disorder, because it is very rare. Many doctors whom have had patients with this disorder has hypothesized that it is the affect of a weak immune system. Another one of my listed health problems. I've ignore most doctors, until now. I just don't know what to do.

A knock on the door detours my thoughts as I turn my attention onto the oak-wood door. I wasn't expecting anyone and I've made clear instructions to be left alone for awhile after concerts, I need time to breathe.

"Who is it?" I ask, annoyance clear in my tone.

The other side of the door remains silent, the only sound being the twisting of the door knob. I quickly stand up, cursing myself for not locking my door.

Smart move Michael.

"Look I have specifically asked to be left alone. I'm sorry, but please come back at an later time" I sigh, trying to cover my exposed blotches with my face towel.

"Well that's not how you great an old friend, Now is it, Applehead?"

....

To Be Continued....