June's point of view

I woke up the next morninig with an horrible sound reasonning in my head, along with Jer and Dave's voices. When I finally got to open my eyes, I noticed the both of them, hitting a wooden spoon on a saucepan, singing some song they made up.

"Wake up, you got a show coming up, and you're not messing that up!" Jer sang, now jumping on my bed.

"Go away," I groaned, burrying my face in my pillow.

"Oh no no no, we're not gonna go away," Dave said, removing the covers from my body. "You gotta get prepared for your show this afternoon."

"No, I don't," I groaned again. "Get the fuck out."

"Aww, is our little Blondie's having a hangover?" Jer cooed sarcastically.

"Yes. Now go and let me sleep."

"Not gonna happen. You're going to get your ass out of this bed and take responsibility for your behavior of last night," Jer said, and gently slapped my ass.

I sat up on my bed and shooted him an evil look, "Look buddy, I love you, but right now you're really getting on my nerves."

"I don't care. You got on our nerves last night when we had to support your ass all the way from Karl's house to this place because you weren't able to stand on your own feet," he said to me, angry at that point. "After that, we had to clean up the mess you did by kissing this Alex guy like you wanted to rape him in front of all your co-workers and your boss, but also we had to keep Michael informed of your state because he was worried sick about your drunk ass!" he shouted at me. "Now you gonna get your ass out of this bed before I make you."

I stayed there stunned, just as David. It was the first time Jer acted this way towards me. He never yelled at me, so I understood how mad he was. However, I was also shocked to hear about my past actions. I remembered being at the bar with Alex, talking to his boring ass, dancing with him, but I didn't know I kissed him. And Michael? How did he know about all of this?

I swear I'm never drinking again. Never.

"Michael?" I asked, frowning. "How did he know? Did you tell him?" I asked, raising my voice a little.

"Me?" Jer asked, his eyes widening pointing his thumb on his chest. "You didn't need me, you let him know by yourself by calling him," he scoffed.

"Wait, what?" I asked him, confused. "Why did you let me call him?"

"I didn't let you do anything! I wasn't with you when you called the guy! I was looking for you but you were nowhere in sight. I finally found you when your boyfriend told me you were locked in the bathroom."

"Don't call him that, I don't even remember kissing him," I said, rubbing my forehead.

"Well, he does remember. He's been calling your cell for the past hour," Dave chimed in, laughing.

"What?" I asked in shock. "Did you answer?"

"Of course I did! I told him to stop calling, that you didn't know what you were doing last night."

"Damn, you're a life saver, David Rogers," I told him, sighing.

"I know. But you owe us an apology. You were a real pain in the ass last night," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Jer.

"I'm sorry guys. I'm never drinking again, I promise," I promised them, rubbing my forehead. "Where's my phone?" I asked the both of them.

Dave handed me my device, and I looked at it, thinking about if I should call Michael to apologize or not. I didn't even remember what I told him. I've been drunk before, and I'm the kind of drunk person who tells the truth when she drank too much. If I did tell whatever truth to Michael, it would probably be about my feelings towards him, and I didn't want him to know.

"Should I call him? Michael, I mean," I asked my friends.

"You should, but just wait the end of the show," Jer advised with a smile. "And you're forgiven," he said, giving me a hug.

"What about me?" Dave whined, and I opened my arms to him as well.

"I really am sorry guys," I told them once again. "I guess I needed to get my mind off of things."

"Alcohol is not the best way for this," Jer reasoned, breaking our grouped hug. "We're here to help you with that."

"I know," I slightly smiled. "Thank you."

"Okay, enough of that," Jer said, clapping his hands together and standing up from my bed, "hop in the shower and get prepared. You have..." he took a look at his watch, "you have one hour and a half to get your ass ready to go."

"Can I have some aspirin first? And a coffee? Please?" I asked, batting my eyelashes.

"On it!" Dave exclaimed and headed towards the kitchen, which caused me to smile.

I really don't know what I'd do without those two men. They gave up on the life they used to have to follow me miles away from our country, and they still learn everyday how to cope with me and my disturbed self. They're the family which is replacing the one I put behind me when I decided to go and live my dreams. Without them, I wouldn't be the one I am now. They helped me through my darkest hours, they were there when I needed a shoulder to rely on, to cry on. With what happened the previous night, I realized they were also there to protect me, and to keep me from doing some stupid mistakes.

***

My arrival at the Grand Palais, situated at the Champs Elysées, didn't go unnoticed, unfortuantely. Eric, Jer and Dave were by my side while journalists asked me questions about the upcoming show. Of course, as I didn't want to seem rude, I had to answer a few of them. I don't like answering them, certainly not when I have a serious hangover, but I know they're not as the paparazzi I got to meet. Those journalists are moslty serious ones. They write for fashion magazines, or they're reporters for tv channels, and their questions are relevant and about my work, not about my personal life, just as the ones those paparzzi ask.

"How are you feeling about this upcoming show?" the little brunette asked me, extending her little microphone towards me so I can answer.

"Well, after two years, I think it's the same old routine," I smiled. "But I guess the nervousness never vanishes."

"The end of your contract is coming soon, right?"

"It is," I nodded.

"Are you going to sign for two more years after this one ends?" she asked with a smile.

"Honestly, I don't know. I don't even know if Karl still wants me," I giggled. "But being Chanel's muse has been the best thing that's happened in my life those last couple of years."

"Do you have any other projects in mind?" another journalist, this time a man, asked me from behind the little brunette.

"I have," I nodded, "but I'll stay mysterious about them," I smiled at him.

"What kind of project are they? Can you tell me a little bit more?"

"You'll know about it when the time is right," I smiled again, and began to walk away.

As soon as we got into the building, some girls with VIP passes came to me all smiling, asking me for an autograph which I gladly gave them. I think I won't ever be used to that kind of notoriety. Eric, my bodyguard, stayed really close to me, just in case.

"Comment tu t'appelles, ma puce?
[What's your name, sweetheart?]," I asked the young girl.

"Caroline," she shyly answered.

I took the pen and notepad from her hands, and wrote what I write most of the time when I sign autographs: 'Smile, you're beautiful', followed by my signature.

"Here you go, Caroline," I smiled, and gave her a quick side hug before walking away from the little group of girls.

Once I arrived backstage, I was greeted by some of the models I knew and then Karl came in the room. I don't know why, but at the second he came in the room, I became nervous. After what Jer and Dave told me about the previous night, I was afraid of his reaction, afraid of what he would think about me and my behavior.
I walked closer to him with Jer, while Dave left to put his stuff in place so he can be ready to do my hair and make up, my nervousness never leaving me. I took my shades off, and looked at my manager with a nervous smile.

"Hey Karl," I said, a fake smile plastered on my face.

"Hey there, doll," he purred, giving me a tight hug. "You're late, but you're fine. Go change and meet me here when you're done."

"Wait, what?" I asked him like he was crazy. "You're not going to lecture me or anything?"

"Lecture you? About what excatly?" he giggled.

"Hmmm, last night? Me? Drunk as a skunk?" I said, my eyebrows raised.

"You want me to lecture you about that?" he snorted. "Girl, this was the first time I've ever seen you having fun, I'm not gonna lecture you about it."

"Having fun?" Jer chimed in, raising his eyebrows at Karl. "You really think being this intoxicated was fun?"

"It was," Karl smiled at him. "Oh, and I got a surprise for you," he said, turning his head to look at me again. "You're going to love it."

"Oh-kay," I skeptically said. "I'm going to get prepared now," I informed him before walking away through the wild crowd of people and models.

"Hey June!" someone called behind me.

I turned around and noticed Charlie, a newbie I met the day before. She was pretty tensed up about all of this when I talked to her, but she said she was feeling better after our little conversation. However, the look she had on her face when I turned around to look at her didn't tell me she was fine.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"I can't do it," she said, her whole body trembling in fear. "Did you see how many people are there in this room?"

"Stop it," I said, giving her a hug. "You're going to be just fine. You're talented, you're beautiful, and this dress fits you perfectly. You'll make it without any problem," I tried to be reassuring. "Don't think about anything, certainly not about falling. If you think you're going to fall, then you're going to fall. Clear your mind before you go on that catwalk."

I gave her a hug, and I could feel her relaxing in my arms. She was a sweet girl, and I knew if I wanted someone to take my place as Chanel's muse, I would like Charlie to take it. She's beautiful, talented and young. She'd be perfect.

***

I was the first one to make an appearance with a floor-length black and white dress, so when I heard my cue, I just went out there without thinking and began walking down the catwalk. As I stopped at the end of it, I took a quick glance at the crowd, just as I always do, and cameras were flashing my way. It's strange as I never get used to that thing. Those flashes really hurt, and I realized it hurt even more when you have a serious hangover. I just wished I could have keep my shades on.  I took a few poses, and as I was about to turn around to return backstage to change my clothes, I noticed that familiar face in the audience.

Pit? I asked myself, not believing what I just saw. What is he doing here? Is there a problem? Is Michael okay? Questions like this ran through my head. I didn't understand why he was here because he never told me he was planning on coming to Paris. It was impossible for me that he was actually here. Maybe it wasn't him in the audience? I thought. Maybe it was becaue of the alcohol I had the previous night? I had no clue. As distrubed as I was, I almost bumped into Charlie on my way back to the backstages. Once I was out of sight of the audience, I ran towards Jer and Dave while putting my dress away to change rapidly, because my other appearance was barely five minutes away. 

"I saw Pit in the audience," I told them while removing the bracelets and necklace from me. I sat on a chair and Dave took care of my hair while Jer was removing my heels.

"Pit? Like in Pitty-Pit?" Dave asked.

"Yeah. I swear I noticed him in the audience. Try to go out there and get him here guys, please. Something's up. He wouldn't show up just like this without me knowing," I told them, worried about the reason of his presence in Paris.

"We've got this," Jer assured me and I slipped into my next dress. "Turn around," he asked, and I stood from my chair to turn around soJer could zip my dress in my back. "Babe, are you done with her make up and hair?" he asked David.

"Almost done," he answered, putting some feathers in my high curly bun.

"June, you're up in fifteen seconds," Harry, the production coordinator called, "come on, hurry!"

I jogged towards Harry, calling, "Guys, go get him!" at Jer and David behind me.

***

Like usual, Karl and I had to come back at the end of the show so we can both say a little speech about the House and its work, along with a word to thank people who came here to admire Karl's work. To be quite honest, I didn't even pay attention to my manager's words because I was too preoccupied by the fact that Jer wasn't back when I returned backstages to change the second time. Neither of him or Pit were there, and I started to freak out.

Once Karl and I finished our speeches, I rushed back to the backstages to see if Jer was finally back with Pit, but at the second I set foot in there, Karl took me by my wrist, stopping me dead in my tracks.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going this fast?" he asked me, chuckling.

"Oh um, nowhere. I just wanna go home. My head is still aching," I lied, faking to rub my forehead.

"Don't you want your surprise?" he wondered, pouting.

"Don't do that face, silly," I chuckled a bit. "What's your big surprise?"

Suddenly, I felt manly hands on my hips and someone hugging me from behind, "Me," the voice said in my ear. 

I turned around to meet the person's eyes, and at the second I met his eyes, mine widened in shock.

Alex.

"W-What are you doing here?" I asked him, stuttering.

"Karl invited me so I can watch the show," he smiled, pulling me flesh against his body. "Damn, you're beautiful."

"Surprise!" Karl cheered, smiling from ear to ear. "I saw you guys seemed to get along yesterday, so I thought you'd be happy if I invited Alex here," he shrugged. "Are you happy?" he asked, visibly happy of his suprise. 

Ugh. 

"Um, yeah! Yeah, really," I faked a huge smile. "Would you excuse us a minute?" I gently asked my manager.

"Yeah sure, go!" he giggled.

I took Alex's hand and dragged him in my dressing room, not bothering closing the door behind the both of us. This was going to be quick.

"Oh, so you want us to be alone together?" Alex seductively said, pulling me closer to him by my waist. "You want us to take back from where we stopped?" he asked, laying kisses on my neck. 

"No, look," I began, but he crashed his lips on mine without warning. I pulled away quickly, "Alex. You're nice but I –" he cut me off again by covering my lips with his, and lifted me up to place on the stool behind me. He took his shirt off to reveal his six pack and, and threw it across the room

I'm a woman. I couldn't stay there and not watch.

"Don't say anything," he whispered on my lips before kissing me roughly once again, his fingers tangled in my hair.

I tried to resist, and put my hands on his broad shoulders to try to push him back, but he didn't budge. He had my mouth monopolized and I couldn't move from his hold.

"June!" I heard someone called my name, "are you in –" Pit appared at the doorstep of my dressing room, " there," he finished his sentence, whispering because of his obvious shock at the sight of the scene before his eyes. "Damn," he muttered.

"Is she in here?" I heard this so familiar voice asking Pit.

I pushed Alex back with violence at the second I heard his voice, but it was too late. Pit had his eyes locked with mine, speechless, while Michael had his eyes wandering from Alex's shirtless body to me. He looked at me like he never looked at me before: with disgust in his eyes. 

"She's visibly fine. We're done here," he mumbled to Pit. He gave me a black and sad stare before leaving the room.

"What the fuck?" Alex said, confused. "Was that Michael Jackson? I thought you guys broke up!"

I looked at Pit and he nodded towards Michael, telling me it was okay for me to run after him.

"Michael!" I shouted, getting out of the room to run after him. I didn't acknoledge Alex's remark because I knew Pit was going to handle things with him. "Wait!"

"What do you want?" he groaned once I caught up with him.

"Michael please," I begged, taking his arm. "don't leave so soon! What's going on?"

"Nothing," he sternly said, getting out of my hold on his arm. He started walking away from me once again, but I followed him. "Go back in your dressing room. Pit and your boyfriend must be waiting for you."

I stopped dead in my tracks, "Tell me this isn't about what you just witnessed."

"Okay. It's not," he smartly answered, never stopping to walk.

"Michael Joseph Jackson," I yelled at him. I made my way up to him and took his hand to drag him in the first room I saw. Hopefully he didn't try to dodge me and just followed without saying anything. I closed the door behind the both of us and folded my arms on my chest. "What is wrong with you?"

"Wrong? With me?" He snorted. "Nothing is wrong with me. I'm not the one who got so drunk last night that she doesn't remember what happened to her."

"W-What? How do you know?" I asked him, confused.

"Jeremy told me about how you woke up this morning. He told me you didn't remember anything about kissing that guy and calling me."

"That's why you're mad at me? Because I got drunk last night?" I asked him in disbelief.

"No, that's not why," he sternly answered.

"Then why?"

"No reason," he said, and tried to walk passed me to reach the door. "Move, please. I wanna go home to my wife and my unborn child," he said with an attitude.

"So that's it? You're going to tell me that you came here just to watch the show?"

"Exactly."

"Stop this!" I yelled at him. "Why the fuck are you mad at me?"

"Watch your mouth," he warned, pointing a finger at me.

"I don't give a fuck," I said, swatting his finger away. "If I want to get drunk, I get drunk, and if I want to curse, then I'll curse... Oh wait, are you going to get mad at me for cursing too?"

"I'm not mad at you for getting drunk," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then what the fuck are you mad at me for?" I yelled, throwing my hands up in frustration.

"Because you lied!" he yelled back at me.

"I lied?" I laughed sarcastiacally. "And may I ask you about what?"

"You don't even remember what you told me last night," he said, shaking his head from side to side. "I should have known you wouldn't remember and you wouldn't mean it," he snorted, "I'm so stupid."

"Michael, tell me. What did I say?" I soflty asked him, seeing the sadness in his eyes.

"Nothing. Forget it. I don't even know why I'm here," he admitted, sitting on the floor. He really looked lost and confused. All I wanted was to give him a hug and comfort him.

"Help me remember Michael, please," I begged, sitting next to him. "Did I say something which offended you in anyway?"

"No," he said, bringing his knees to his chest. "And stop saying my name, please."

"Why are you here?" I asked him in a soft voice.

"I wanted to make sure you were fine, I guess," he shrugged.

"So you flew all the way here to check up on me? Just because I was drunk last night?"

"Because you were drunk and vulnerable. I didn't want anything happening to you," he explained to me, not making eye-contact with me once.

"Vulnerable? Like you thought someone would abuse me while I was intoxicated?" I asked him with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes," he admitted, and I slightly smiled at his cuteness.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want any men abusing you while you're weak, just like this guy did to you."

"Alex? Pssst. Nothing sexual happened. Jer and Dave wouldn't have let anything happen to me. And I wasn't that drunk, after all," I said shrugging.

"You weren't that drunk?" Michael repeated, snorting. "June, you asked the shower why it was weeping."

"What? No! How do you even know that?" I asked, shocked.

"Because I kept calling Jeremy and David so they tell me how you were doing," he shyly said.

"Thank you," I told him truthfully.

The more I looked at him, the more I wanted to tell him I would be in love with him my whole life. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, but I knew I couldn't. I knew it would be selfish of me to tell a man with a pregnant wife that I loved him. He didn't need anymore complications in his life. He didn't need me in his life: he had everything he always dreamed of; a wife who was expecting his child. He still had his friends. I knew Liz never left his side once, Whitney was also there when he needed comfort, just as Eddie. He didn't need me, his ex-girlfriend, who's still madly in love with him, in his life.

"Why are you crying?" I heard Michael's voice asking me. I brought my hands to my eyes and wiped my tears away. Confused, I stood up from the floor and headed towards the door without saying another word. "June, stop!" Michael said, standing up as well. "Where are you going?"

"I need some fresh air," I said, opening the door.

"Please, stay here," he begged, taking my hand in his.

"Go home to your wife Michael," I told him, sincerely. "You don't need to worry about me anymore. Being your friend was one of the biggest mistake I've ever done."

"What are you talking about? No! We can be friends!" he argued, letting my hand go.

"I can't," I said, shaking my head.

"Is this because I'm being too oprressive?"

"No, I just can't. I'm sorry. I wish this could have worked," I said, fighting the urge of crying right here and there. "Go home to your wife, Michael."

"I'm not leaving without a proper reason why you don't want to be my friend all of a sudden," his stubborn ass argued again.

"Michael," I sighed, my hand resting on the doorknob.

"I'm not some garbage you can throw once used!"

"Damnit, Michael! You're not some garbage!"

"Then what am I to you, huh?" he asked, but I reminded silent. "That's what I thought... garbage," he repeated, shaking his head form side to side. He walked to the door and opened it widely. "Goodbye June."

I let him out and watched him walking away from me. So that's how he felt when I kept walking away from him, I thought. I felt like someone was ripping my heart from my chest. I wanted to run after him and never let him go. I wanted to keep him by my side because I knew deep down that he didn't fly all the way from California to France just to check up on me. I knew he wanted to check up on me because he wanted to protect me from having feelings for another guy: Alex. I don't think so. No, I know so. He was jealous just thinking I could be with someone else than him.

"You're the love of my life!" I yelled at him through the empty corridor.

He stopped dead in his tracks without turning around.

"That's what you are to me, Michael. You're the love of my life," I repeated.

He slowly turned around to look at me, a few meters away from where I was. He looked dumfounded, and was visibly lost for words. As the silence became awkward, I decided to tell him how I really felt and just relieve my heart from all these repressed feelings I kept locked deep inside of me for too long.

"I love you. I've always loved you, ever since that day we met. I never stopped loving you, and I'll probably never will. I didn't want to tell you, but you're not giving me any choice now. I love you so much it hurts, Michael. Since we met again, I've seen you happy with your wife, and now you're expecting a child... I know this is your dream, and I don't want to be in the picture because you have your perfect little life now and I don't want to ruin it. That's why I didn't tell you, and that's why I can't be your friend. I need to heal, Michael. I need to heal from our break up because I never did. It's like grief. I need to grieve the loss of you as my lover, as my everything. I need you to take a smaller place in my heart. Right now I wish I could just jump in your arm and kiss you to show you how much I love you and I much I miss you, but I know I can't. That's why you need to go. You need to go back to California to your wife and unborn child; you need to let me grieve. Those days with you were wonderful to me, and I know they were wonderful for you too. I know there's still a part of you who's still loving me the way I love you, but it's not right. You're married, and you need to go home to your wife and take care of her and her crazy pregnant lady's cravings," I soflty laughed through my tears which were now streaming down my face. "You're my one true love, and I won't be able to forget about you, but I need time to grieve you Michael," I finished, looking straight at him.

When I looked up at him, I noticed a tear escaping his eyes. I knew he was about to say something. I wanted him to say something, anything.

"There you are!" Karl shouted from behind me.

As soon as I recognized his voice, I wiped the tears from my face and looked at my manager.

"Come, I have someone I want you to meet," he excitedly said, taking my hand. I looked at Michael once again, and that's when Karl noticed him, "Oh damn. Michael Jackson, hi."

Michael simply nodded at him, which caused Karl to look from him to me skeptically.

As my manager dragged me to some place with him, Michael disappeared from my sight little by little.

I confided him my deepest love for him, but I didn't have the time to hear what he had to say about this.

No other words were spoken.