In the industry of fortuitous greed and manipulation, one couldn't imagine the extremes many would go through, just to climb to take a detour on the mountain of success. Instead of a harness, they cheat with gadgets and tools, whatever they can get their hands on to reach the peak. It's a sad truth, that I've experienced too much of.

Kansas City was a great state to visit. Jesse and I had fun visiting orphanages and children's hospitals. I even was able to have my chimpanzee, Bubbles to come along for the ride. He definitely enjoys traveling and sight seeing.

The concert in The Kremp Arena was amazing and electrifying. I never felt so confident as concert about my last concerts as I was about The Kremp Arena concert. Kansas City is absolutely amazing and the citizens are even better. It tore a heart string to know I had to leave to continue on my next stop.

New York. My faithful home away from home. The very place I made love to Jesse for the first time, the very place I decided to stand up as a demand for my voice to be heard. New York has definitely gained a plethora of symbolism for me. Therefore, I'm happy to be finally home for a little while at least.

"Madison Square Gardens! In all of my time in New York, I never thought much of Madison Square Gardens, but here I am gawking over the mere thought of it" Tatiana gasps as we unload the the tour bus.

I nod, giving the stadium a glance for myself.

Madison Square Gardens is the Chit'lin Circuit of North America. If you have performed here, you are officially considered a great. I don't really believe in that superstition, but I still feel honored to have the pleasure of performing in this pretty historic stadium.

Glancing over again at Tatiana, I watch her carefully. I don't know why, but I have a hitch that something isn't right. Besides the obvious block of ice set between us, there's something else I have been taking notice of, her communication with Frank.

Frank has been well known for his flirtatious, cocky approach to beautiful women of his eyes, but he's also known for being a scandalized cheater. His first wife, Patricia Aubrey. They were married for nearly seven years before he waltzed into the arms of their private gardener.

From that one instance, his wife threatened to divorce him straight away, but Frank being the persuading man he is, he somehow changed her mind. Though he apologized and rekindle his marriage, him and the private gardener still remained more than cordial. Long sorry shortened, Frank was caught once again and now has been still suffering from the rage of a wife wanting another divorce.

Seemingly, Frank has yet to learn. I keep my eye on Tatiana as Frank casually walks over to her, puffing at his death stick. It's sickening how a married man can cheat on his wife. I've listened and even seen my very own father cheating on mother.

I was devastated each time we would return from touring and was forced into lying to our mothers face about Joseph's infidelity. I'm still suffering from that scar to this very day.

"Baby are you okay?" Jesse asks, stealing my gloves hand for hers.

Inhaling deeply and turning my attention away from Frank and Tatiana, I force a smile and nod.

"Yes babygirl, I'm fine. Just want to hurry and get out of here before the fans realize the other bus was a decoy" I exhale, pecking her cold cheek tenderly.

Before landing in New York, Frank approaches me with an insane idea of surprising the fans with an "early arrival", that way when we really arrive their anticipation would be above regulatory levels. Aside from his interesting way of explaining his idea, I did agree to out the plan to use.

Just before we landed, I asked Bill to call for a replica bus, I didn't care how it was done, just as long as it was done before we landed. The plan is to have a feign bus appear at The Double Tree hotel where Jesse and I stayed during the months of writing and year of preparing for the tour. On the other hand, we have arrived at a different hotel therefore, being discreet of my current location.

I just hope the plan last long enough for me to be able to settle in our new hotel and have a much needed nap before I begin rehearsals.

"I've talked to the hotel manager, everything is all set. Here's your room keys and well, enjoy" Bill announces, passing each band member and dancer their hotel keys.

"And don't worry, the manager, Mister Richards said that he will not tell a soul and welcome to A Loft Hotel" Bill pats my shoulder.

I nod and turn to Jesse who was shivering from the early January air. Smiling warmly, I release her grip of my hand and hug at her waist tightly.

"We'll be warm soon babygirl. Okay?" I whisper, pecking her cold cheek again.

She nods and proceeds to follow Bill into the back of the hotel. Sometimes I do wish that I could for just one day be someone else other than Michael Jackson. I wish I didn't have to enter a hotel through the kitchen just to reach my room without being interrupted by awaiting fans.

My desire to be someone else doesn't always last long, because I am very blessed and fortunate to be where I am today. Boys that grow into men in Indiana don't always have an easy fate planned, my brothers and I were the lucky ones, and for that I have to be grateful.

Upon reaching our suit level of the hotel, everyone disbands into their suits, cackling along with excitement. That's what I love about this group of people, they are so lively thrusting elation into the world, I love surrounding myself with people of this nature. That's why I chose them.

"See you in two hours boss man!" Mark exclaims from across the elevator.

I chuckle lightly and nod at his sudden outburst. Turning towards out suit, I allow Bill to check it out for any bugs or anything else of suspicion. Once he seems everything as cleared, Jesse and I proceed into the suit, our jaws dropping at the decorum.

Our suite is dappled with the colours of crème and a light mocha, brown. The living room is the first to catch our eyes. From it's lazy boy furniture, to it's wide, overview windows that are draped with crème linen curtains. My eyes travel along the empty space that led to the wonderful, updated kitchen. The sterling steel machines shine brightly as if it was cleaned tirelessly.

Opposed to our suit in The Double Tree Hotel, this suit is quite bit more spacious and modern. As we continue our tour into the master bedroom which is even more of a master piece from a Vanity Fair home magazine.

The comfortable bedding was emasculate in the continuing scheme of crème and mocha. What makes it even more attractive is the beautiful painting from famous French painter, Picaso, of his Rose Period. I personally love that period of his paintings. He was an artist that painted based on his current emotions.

The Rose Period, was inspired by his true love Fernande Olivier. He was truly in love with her and she was his Mona, much like Jesse is to me. I can only imagine how he felt when he lost her, I know I would go into a Blue Period as he did. That must be the hardest event in any lovers life, loosing your lover.

"Do you like it babygirl?" I ask, calming from my trance of the painting.

Slowly removing her jacket, she nods.

"I love it. Especially the painting. A really nice touch" She smiles.

I nod and take her jacket, returning it to a nearby coat rack along with mine. When I return to her, she's laying on the bed, her lids hiding those beautiful Hershey eyes of hers. I smile to myself and join her, drifting into the seductive warmth from the comforter.

"I really love this bed" She sighs in the mist of our silence.

"I do too. Maybe, we can make some fun use of it later" I wink, gently pulling her into my chest.

She gives me a small smile, glancing at our hands that are now entangled within the grasp of our palms. I enjoy the feeling of Jesse's palms in mine, we mold perfectly together. The feeling of her hand in mind is indescribable. It gives me the need to protect her, to gesture this as a sentiment of assurance that I'm always here and will never let go.

I search her eyes when they finally meet mine. She's burden, but won't tell me why. I've noticed the change in her since December. She has become a bit distant, mentally. I can tell by the look in her eyes when she responds to my questions about her well being, she smiles, but I see right through it. I just wish she would tell me what that burden is.

"Babygirl what's wrong with you? You aren't yourself" I express, softening my gaze.

Her eyes fall on our hands once again. This is her tactic of avoidance. What is that she is avoiding, I don't know.

"Michael... I have been meaning to tell you, but I'm afraid you'll think different of me..." She exhales.

I frown, lifting her chin with our hands still clutched together.

"Babygirl, there is nothing you can tell me that will make me think lesser of you, okay?" I assure her.

She nods, her eyes focused on mine.

"I... Um. I-"

"Michael! Are you in here?!" Bill calls from outside of our bedroom.

Sighing heavily, I reluctantly detach myself from her, pecking her cheek before scurrying to Bills urgency.

"Yeah. I was laying down. Why are you yelling?" I ask, entering the living room.

Bill turns around and scratches the back of his neck guiltily.

"There's a bit of a change of olans. You will be performing a bit earlier than scheduled, due to the cooling temperature, the host requested that you up your performing time and come as soon as you can to make any other necessary changes if need be" Bill informs me, leaning against the arm of a decorative chair.

I roll my eyes into the ceiling. I am well aware that October through January are the coldest and snow probed months of New York. I also am aware that I can't control the weather and have to be ready to make changes in the dot, but I've told Frank to handle this situation beforehand.

"I specifically asked Frank should I go ahead and change the shows start time because of the snow warning. He said he had everything under control, so ask Frank!" I snap, growing tired of his antics.

Bill holds his hands up admitting innocence.

"Put your gun away because I'm not your target. I'm not telling you what to do here, but something has to give with your manager. He isn't a great one by the looks of it. Look Michael, just come on and get this over with and we'll deal with this later. Think about your fans Mike" He advises, standing upright.

I let out and agitated groan and agree to abide to this sudden change and make the best of it.

"Okay fine. I'll go, but Jesse is coming so make sure that you keep and eye on her while I work this out. I swear I don't get a damn break from this crap" I scuff, turning towards the bedroom.

"Babygirl,I'm sorry but I-"

"It's okay baby, I understand" She smiles, standing up from the bed.

Walking towards me, she hands me my gloves and trench coat as she slides on her pea coat.

"What were you going to tell me earlier?" I ask as we enter the living room.

She glances at Bill, who is patiently waiting at the door. Glancing back at me with a smile, she shrugs.

"I think I'm gaining weight. I don't know" She falsely chuckles.

Wanting to investigate further, I open my mouth, but looking into her soft Hershey eyes I can tell she just isn't ready to tell me. And I will not force her to tell me.

"I love you babygirl" I smile, pecking her forehead.

She closes her eyes for a mere second before whispering "I love you" in return. Turning towards Bill, I brace myself for another rehearsal, another show, and another confrontation with my 'managaer'.

Lord help me.
>

I've always been told tht I have the soul of an older man. Mother would playfully tease me that I remind her of my great grandfather, Prince Brown. My grandfather was known as a gospel, soul singer in his days. He's bring in crowds from different churches in his town.

They all came to worship God as an
Jehovah Witness, but also gorge over the soulful voice that sung so sweetly to them, the words of The Lord. When my mother told me this, I initially felt guilty that I have his personality, but not his heart in music genre. He's an gospel,
African American hem singer, while I am categorized as a pop, soul, and a bit of a rock singer.

When I stressed this to my mother she smiled and said, "Baby, it doesn't matter whether you're singing about the gum
On the bottom of your shoe, you're every bit of your grandfather than you think. You're special my dear boy, don't forget that and don't let anyone take advantage if that. People will commit any sin for money and attention" She warned.

Though her beginning speech touched my heart, the last part of her speech captured my attention. Mother has never been a woman to steer anyone wrong in her preachings, so when she stressed that to me, I believed every word. Her words will surely reign truth.

In the height if my estavy, I am nothing without the climax of the familiar beats. Each time I grace the stage with the familiar dance numbers of my past career with my brothers, I can't help but become emotional. I've tried endlessly to not become emotional when singing the from someone else's pain. Somehow I connect to the song, it can't be explained.

Though "She's Out Of My Life" is a song about a lost lover, I tend to become weary with the thought of the days I once shared my passion for music and dance with my brothers. The Jackson 5 medleys and Thriller medleys are enough to send me crouching onto the waxed floor of the stage in tears.

The audience grows silent for a few minutes before crying out to me as I rise for the final not of the sensitive ballad. Every emotion I've been capering about my family has yet again spilt into my performance. With one deep breath I belt my last sign of sadness into the microphone.

"Life...." I tremble, taking another moment to breathe.

I appreciate the audiences transparent emotions. They openly allow me to shed a tear and still be an inspirational figure in their life. That means the world to me.

"You okay Mike?" John Hand, one of my dancers asked as I disappear backstage for a costume change.

"Yeah... I'm fine. Just get ready for the next number" I croak.

As I practice a few breathing exercises, my wardrobe team silently dresses me without question,per my request as I prepare for the next number. Glancing around me when they are finished, I spot Tatiana and Frank talking. Though from my view point it seems as though he is scowling at her.

Before I can investigate, Michael Edwards, my time keeper alerts me that it's time to return to the stage. Nodding, I take another glance of Tatiana and Frank just before jogging to my place on stage.

Once again, Tatiana is in her rightful place, awaiting her musical cue to strut the stage while I sing and dance to the rhythms of The Way You Make Me Feel. I'm elated by the response we have been receiving for this performance by local journalist, but of course with positivity, negativity creeps it's way in.

Many tabloids have continued to embark on the idea that I'm cheating on Jesse with Tatiana. No matter how many interviews I have done, denying this lie, the tabloids continue to spread it like wild fire. Of course, Frank rarely did anything about it, but reiterate my responses. It's out right annoying.

Tatiana seems happier than usual during this performance, devious even. I try to manta in focus onto the audience ahead, but my eyes follow her wildly as she breaks out of her routine. Emphasizing flirtatious winks and gestures, she circles around me with a overly confident strut, just before stopping in front of.

Not wanting to break my character, I feign that this is apart of the act. Well was a part of the act until she grips at my azure button up and pulls me into an unexpected kiss.

I quickly, laugh it off and hug her before she releases me to parade off the stage in victory. All the while my mind tries to contemplate what just occurred, I of course keep my professionalism and continue to give the audience what they came in attendance for.

Long into the show, I salute with an I love you and introduction to the technical crew, dancers, and band members. Dismissing the crowd with "I love you", I disappear into the darkness of the stage.

"What the hell Tatiana! I told you not to dammit! I told you not to fucking kiss him!" Frank scowls, pointing his meaty finger in Tatiana's face.

Walking towards them and the group
of bodyguards, I glance between the two.

"What just happened?! What was that Frank?!" I fume, my anger from before returning.

Reluctantly taking his glare from Tatiana he sighs heavily and glances at me.

"I don't know Mike. I'm trying to handle that now" He stresses.

I roll my eyes. He's always "handling" something and isn't doing anything but dripping the arson onto the already lit match.

"Just like you handled the schedule change. You have a lot of nerve to pretend like you didn't know she would do that. I have a hitch you knew about it" I accuse, glaring at him coldly.

His eyes widens as well as Tatiana's.

"You really think I knew about this? Why in the hell would I let it happen then Mike? Why would I let it happen if I knew this?"

"Simple. You're having an affair with her, promising her the world or whatever. She tells you she wants to kiss me, you blow a gasket. I saw you two arguing earlier, I'm not stupid. And before you say anything else, just know you're fired and you can take her with you" I scuff, turning towards Bill who came to investigate as well.

"What's going on here? Frank?" He interrogates, glancing between the three of us.

"Bill, where's Jesse so we can go" I question, cutting off Frank's future excuse.

"She's at the hotel. She left with Scotty after the performance" He sighs, shaking his head.

"Oh God. Is she mad? Did she say anything?" I question desperately.

Bill sighs again heavily.

"She said she wasn't feeling so good, that's all"

"Oh God, let her be okay. Come on Bill we have to get out if here, now" I command, starting to jog for the exit.

I can't even think right now. My emotions are everywhere. I'm peeved, I'm annoyed, I'm terrified. I want to deal with Frank and Tatiana, but my priorities are with Jesse right now. I know she hasn't been herself lately and I don't want Tatiana's stunt to be an attribute to her burdens.

Please let her be okay...

To Be Continued...