It was the next morning in Michael's room. The curtains were once again shut tight. He sat patiently on the makeup chair in the living room as his makeup artist Karen, caked on some powder onto his face. His stare was fixed on the TV that was playing some Tom and Jerry cartoons.

"I heard from Bill that Camila Jensen visited yesterday," she spoke, swirling the powder puff in the plastic container. "Is it true?"

He fiddled with his fingers before he answered. "Yes."

Karen's eyes widened. "Wow, I really want to meet her. She's a beauty from what I see in magazines. I would really love to do her makeup one day, that would be cool, wouldn't it?"

He nodded. "That girl don't need no makeup though," Michael defended.

"I didn't mean it like that, she really doesn't. It's just that I really want to be up-close with her facial features. Have you seen how high those cheekbones are? And that profile? Stunning lady."

"Yes, I was just with her yesterday. Of course I noticed them," Michael answered, slightly annoyed at Karen's schmooze for no particular reason.

For a moment he shifted his focus back to the cartoons, but Karen just had to be nosy.

"What did you guys do together?"

Michael snapped at her gaze. His expression turned straight. "What do you mean?"

She smirked. "Yeah, like, did you guys do anything?"

"We watched a movie," he answered straightforwardly. Finally, Karen was able to detect his irritation at her nosiness, so she stopped talking and continued to do his makeup in silence.

Now all the sound audible was the minimum noises coming from the TV cartoons. The small and bright screen was really the only light source in the room besides the lamp that stood in front of the makeup chair. Michael tried to keep his focus on the show, but soon his eyes were no longer on the screen as now they were just aimlessly floating around the room.

His thoughts traced him back to the night before, when ­–

"Michael... Michael... Mike..." her soft cries escaped her nude-painted lips. He grasped on tightly to her bare hip.

The room was hot and dim-lit. The two of them were together, moving back and forth in unison at a steady pace, him entering in and out of her. The white bedsheets were thrown off the bed, and so was her lace beige brassiere.

She continued to moan in pleasure, "Mmm..." . Their breaths both smelled of expensive wine.

"Michael?" Karen snapped him out of his memory. He shook himself out of his opalescent, foggy recount of the night before. "You're done. The guys will come soon to get the bags. Have you packed everything already?"

"I think so. I forgot," he replied lowly, looking down.

Karen gave him a look. She wanted to question him of his unusual behavior but decided to let him be. "I'll finish it for you." With that, she went into his bedroom to pack the rest of his belongings.

He stood up from the makeup chair and walked into the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of water. Whatever faded memory that was left in his mind of last night had to be forgotten in order to keep him calm and tell himself that no such thing happened. He's rarely done anything like what he had done. He always kept things innocent and playful for the first time with a girl, but it seemed that they were both unconsciously craving for it. And he feels – to say the least, weird.

"Mike, the plane's leaving in an hour and a half, better fasten your pace," Bill informed, who just entered the suite. "Said goodbye to Camila yet?"

Michael looked at him and shook his head slowly as he took a swallow of the water. "I don't think there's a need for that."

Bill was slightly taken aback. "What do you mean? Did it not go as hoped? Have you at least exchanged numbers, though?"

"Yeah, yeah," Michael replied dismissively, still visible that he was acting off. "Can we just go now?"

Then, Karen was seen stumbling out of his bedroom struggling to carry his heavy suitcase. "Yeah, his bags are set," she said, a little out of breath.

"Of course, Mike. We could wait at the lobby where the rest of your entourage are waiting," Bill said and went over to Karen's direction to help her with the bags. The two continued to observe Michael's behavior from afar. He was rubbing his eyes.

"What do you think is up with him?" Karen began, keeping her voice low to not be heard.

Bill replied, "I figure he might've had too much fun and now he regrets it."

"You think so?"

"What else? He doesn't seem sad to me, just confused."

She looked at him in astonishment. "You're good at analyzing him, I thought differently."

Bill stifled a small laugh, "I've been with him since he was an adolescent. Trust me, I know what sad looks like on him."

"Guys! Can we just go now?" Michael shouted from the door.

Both Bill and Karen looked at each other with wide eyes. They obeyed and followed Michael.

* * *

3 days later..

"Come, come!" Camila clicked her tongue to call in Dibbles and Darling, her beloved cats. "Today's special are high protein chicken and ocean mix! Dig in my lovelies," she chirped as she poured the cat food into the food bowls. She brought the bowls closer to her two Scottish Folds, who were staring wide-eyed at the food.

It's been a few days since she had left Vegas, and now she was back in her mini-mansion in sunny Calabasas. She had a free-scheduled day and so she decided to spend it with her cats and no other.

After serving the food for her cats, she prepared her own lunch. If, that's still what it's called when it's already 4 PM. Camila is very behind when it comes to keeping up with time, since it flew by so quickly while she had isolated herself in her library the whole morning.

She ate her meal on the island counter as she watched her cats who were engulfing the food in a matter of seconds. "My goodness... I should really buy another food bowl should I?" she laughed. "No, I'm definitely not sharing my chicken burrito with you guys."

After she finished her food and cleaned up for herself and her cats, she walked back to her library slash study room. With only an oversized t-shirt and house slippers clothing her slender body, she felt the cool breeze on her skin that escaped her opened terrace doors. Her house was fairly big for a single person to be living in it, but it didn't bother her much because her cats made her feel less lonely. The light wood and bohemian interior cozied up the house, so nevertheless she enjoyed living there.

Sitting on her lounge chair in her spacious study, she couldn't help but to stare on and off from the telephone. She constantly hoped that Michael would call her. They haven't talked since their one night stand, and she has no idea of his whereabouts. She's barely had any human interaction for the last few days either – only short sentences with her Dad and gatekeeper.

* * *

It was nearing 9 PM and Camila was still enclosed in her study. She had everything she needed by her side; a bottle of water and some books– it kept her occupied. But the thought of Michael was still agonizing her.

It's fair to say that she was a sexually-active girl – being one of the most beautiful girls on campus, all the guys fell head over heels for her. It wasn't until her junior year that she started going on frequent hook-ups with the frat boys. That year was when everything went downhill for her; her depression and anxiety skyrocketed once again after being gone for so long since her mother's death. Not only was the schoolwork piling up on her, her "daughter of a Hollywood royalty" reputation was something she had to be consistently taken care of.

It wasn't easy walking around anywhere when a small group of paparazzi follows you everywhere. So, she felt that having her sexual desires met made her feel a little better, even though she didn't know half of the guys who she was sleeping with and all were filled with lust.

She had stopped in her senior year. So, Michael was like a comeback – one with a bang. Something she felt the night she had it with Michael was different– it created a whole new experience for her. The passion in his moves made Camila feel as if it wasn't just lust. With that, she knew she had to continue the relationship they had. And she didn't even want it to be just around the sex.

Standing from her armchair, she decided to go up to her bedroom and rummage through her unpacked suitcase. In the midst, a piece of note paper flew. As she kneeled on the floor, she grabbed the note, which turned out to be ripped out from the hotel's notepad and found Michael's number scribbled in chicken scratch.

Her heart jumped and she immediately rushed to the telephone on her desk. She quickly punched in the numbers and waited patiently as the phone began to ring.

In her mind, she was desperate for him to answer. She was rehearsing what she ought to say when he picks up.

By the third time she tried to ring, she was close to giving up. That's when the phone was finally answered.

"Hello, this is Frank Dileo, who is this?"

Her eyebrows stitched. "Hi, this is Camila Jensen, I'm looking for Michael– uh, Michael Jackson. He gave me this number in case I needed to reach him."

There was a long pause. "Oh," Frank replied. "I'm his manager. May I ask why you are calling, Ms. Jensen?"

"I want to speak to him. I'd like to check if he's doing okay... If that's okay?" she said, and immediately shook her head at the mess of words she had just scrambled on the top of her head.

"No. Not right now," he answered sternly. "He's currently rehearsing for his tour and answering any phone calls during this time will distract his focus. He is okay, to answer your question."

"Well, that's fine then. Please tell him I called, and that I would really appreciate it if he called me back."

"Is there any importance as to why you he has to call you back?"

"Um, no, not really, I–"

"Then I don't see any need for him to be speaking to you. Thank you very much, good evening Ms. Jensen."

The line cut. Camilla sat the phone back down in disbelief – her heart sunk.

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(A/N): Hello.. I'm back again.

I haven't updated in forever and Wattpad seems dead by now but I can't keep this story off my head so I felt good continuing writing this. I hope you enjoyed the past few chapters so far! I really don't know if any of my past readers still read this but hey and thank you if you are one!! :)

Just please don't forget to vote, comment and share (it's what keeps me going) + I always appreciate everything!

Thank you for reading, I love you! -Mia <3