They say the mind is a terrible thing to waste, so I no longer keep my inner thoughts to myself. At this point in my life, I have learned how to take full advantage of my independence. With my contract with Joseph finally invalidated, I am officially able to do freely with my career.

Though here and there my Joseph does call with another "get rich quick" schemes, always mentioning an reunion between my brothers and I.

Believe me when I say that I love my family, but they make me sick at times, especially my brothers and fathers. They are always hounding me about another tour, even though I specifically told them during the Victory Tour, that after this, I'm done. I even gave my earnings to charity.

Whatever they did with their earnings is their business, but I refuse for them to go broke and think they can run to me for another tour or commercial or any type if publicity advertisement as The Jackson's. I was through.

Going through that with my own flesh and blood has hardened my ways with other people in my very small circle, so when Bill began scolding me for sneaking into Jesse's audition, I ignored him and made it very clear that I wasn't going to listen.

This did not sit well with Bill, instead of letting me go on with my day, he begins this sermon about, how Jesse is changing me; and that's where I drew the line.

Within the next pasting minutes, a regular debate becomes howls and insults as both Bill and I try to maintain control over one another. Frankly, neither one of us is backing down. I'll be quite honest, Bill is a scary man when he's peeved, but I know he doesn't want to loose his job or ruin his career over an argument about my girlfriend.

"Look Michael, You need to wake the hell up! Not everyone is what you think they are! I'm just trying to make sure you are safe! God you're so hard headed!" He fusses, flexing his right hand in agitation.

I roll my eyes.

It's always the same story with him. He's always trying to "help me". He's not helping me if he's adding on to my headaches. I don't need that, and if this is how he is going to carry on, then I don't need him.

"I don't need you Bill! I'll be just fine without you! You're just another Joseph, always trying to control me! I'm no ones puppet!" I retort, already feeling the sting of tears.

This is what happens when I think of my past. The life I lived as an isolated child. On the outside, I had everything. I could travel, meet people from around the world, and do something I love as well as share it with the world, all before the age of eighteen.

The only thing was, I wasn't happy. I was constantly hurting on the inside. I wanted to be like the other kids who would come from school, eat dinner, then venture into the world of imagination before the street light would shine. I wanted that. But it wasn't mine to have.

Bill stares at me silently, his expression a bit softer. I know he feels guilty now, which he should. This is my life, I don't need another person telling me how to live it.

When he does speak again, his voice has declared surrender and defeat.

"Michael... I love you to pieces. I just want what's best for you. I was worried sick when I didn't find you in this hotel. You can't do that Michael, you just can't. You are Michael Jackson, you can't just go out without bodyguards. I wouldn't know why to do if something happen to you. You're like a son to me, I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt"

I nod in mutual understanding.

Bill may work my nerves sometimes, but he doesn't mean any harm.

"I'm sorry Bill" I whisper, loud enough for him to hear me.

He nods.

"I'm sorry too. I'll apologize to Miss Edmond as well if that would make you happy" He suggests.

I shake my head, no.

"Not if you're doing just to please me. I'm going to go to my room now. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon Bill"

He repeats his seemingly only response for this conversation, a nod.

I turn towards his suites door and quietly exit, hitting realization that, that was Bills and I first real argument. I hope it was the last.

Stepping a few steps towards my suites door, I swipe my room key and open the door awaiting my lovely one on the other side.

"Jesse?" I call, closing the door behind me.

The sound of the old familiar tune, Peter and The Wolf, fills my ear with its dramatic use of violin and many other precussions.

I smile to myself as venture deeper into the wide spaces living room that she has transformed into her personal dance studio.

That's what I love about Jesse, much like me, she's always dancing and music is seemingly our vital breath in which we breathe.

Not wanting to take her attention away from her free lance dance, I walk into the kitchen corner, taking a seat on one of the black and silver, metallic bar stools and marvel over her grace.

Ten minutes flow by before she finally acknowledges my presence.

Flustered and sweaty, she reaches for her water bottle on the ground, adjacent to her, gorging it down as she approaches me.

"That was beautiful..." I praise, watching her take the next stool beside me.

She plays with the percipation condensating around her water bottle.

I know how much she hates my compliments. She doesn't feel she deserves them. No matter how hard I try to make her see how wonderful and talented she is, just a blind man, she can't see past her own eyes. In a way, I replicate this mindset as well.

"Michael what does it feel like?" She finally breaks her silence.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion of her question.

"Having millions, billions know your name and who you are. How does it feel?" She restates.

I sigh and glance at the ceiling, searching for a way to answer her question without sounding medicore.

"It's exilerating... flattering even. Having people, complete strangers look up and admire you..." I begin, still gazing into the ceiling.

She listens silently, allowing me to continue.

"But then there's times I wish the world didn't know who I am. Sometimes I hate being in my own skin. It's a lonely place to be. With all the love in the world, I still felt alone. Then I met you." I conclude, now gazing into her soft brown pools.

Her eyes dance along with mine, forcing a smile to spread her lips.

"I still want it Michael. I want to be known far past California and New York. I want the world to know me..."

The sparkle withheld in her eyes, as she continued to tell me of her dreams and aspirations. Listening to her, I can see her vision of being the greatest dancer beyond Fre Astaire, James Brown, and Misty Copeland. I believe her every word as she paints the picture so vividly through her words.

I reach for her hand.

"Dance with me, for the afternoon I am your world" I smile.

Giggling, She takes my offer.

"What shall we dance to Mister Jackson?" She asks between giggles.

I spin her into my chest.

"You are the painter, this dance is your canvas, you're in control" I whisper in her ear, releasing her into the space that seperates the suites corner kitchen and the living room.

Her demeanor changes, as or eyes lock onto each other. I want to teach her how to become one with a dance partner, should she ever have to partcipate in a production that required it. She is quite a strong soloist, but she struggles with learning the basics of becoming a unit with her partner.

"I'm no good with a partner Michael..." She admits, as I hold onto her waist assisting her in a leg lift.

Returning her leg onto the tile, she shakes her head and detaches herself from me.

"Jess..." I breathe, watching her disappear into the bedroom.

Guiltily, I retire onto the love seat of the living room.

I want to comfort her, but I know her having alone time to think is what's best right now. She's anxious, and it's probably scaring her. I can only empathize with her in this part, I'll just be the shoulder she needs when she's ready to talk.

For now, I rest my eyes and await my big day tomorrow...

To Be Continued....