DISCLAIMER:

While this story is intended for ideally and +18 audience, I will like to add disclaimers.

Nothing in this story is meant to romanticize, glorify, or encourage the following;

violence, cheating, murder, lying, suicide, sex, cursing, drugs, rape, racism, abuse, trauma, mental illness etc, etc.

These are adults with adult problems set in the 80's where sayings, language, and society was different than it is now. This is also set in an industry where dark, twisted things happen.

These characters aren't meant to be perfect...they are meant to be human. They go through things, and say things that aren't always perfect and they shouldn't be viewed as such.

By no means am I encouraging anyone to glorify any of these characters or third party characters mentioned (Ex: Al Capone, Bonnie and Clyde, etc.) nor it is my intention to offend anyone.

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Michael's POV

"You did what?" Frank says slowly. "Mike...what the hell were you thinking?! It's enough you have me scrambling to find a replacement, but you offer her up to Prince?!"

He takes the cigar out of his mouth waving it towards me. "You pimped her out."

"I didn't pimp her out...." I shoot him a look. "Prince and Tati are close." I sigh out. "And...he would take care of her."

"And you wouldn't?" Frank puts the cigar in his mouth before grabbing the newspaper next to him. "Scratch that—you didn't."

"I don't want to hear this." I scowl.

"When do you ever?" he mumbles under his breath as he opens the newspaper, obviously irritated.

"You better know what you are doing this time, Mike. Because once she's off this tour...I can assure you she is out of your life and will never come back again."

**
I walk quietly down the hotel hallway as I take of my shades rubbing the bridge of my nose tiredly, attempting to give some relief to the pulsating headache that was now making my eyes sensitive.

"MICHAEL!"

I turn around to see Sheryl's wild curls flying every which way, as she angrily makes her way to me.

I groan closing my eyes.

"HOW COULD YOU?! What the actual hell, Michael?!" she shouts as I wince slightly.

"Sheryl—it was her idea. Not mine. You talk to her about this." I mutter.

"Puh-leeeeeeeze...." she scoffs before rolling her eyes. "Do you really think she'd want to stay after everything you said to her? Be actually for real, Michael." she crosses her arms and shakes her head. "And it's not my job to talk to her about this. You did her wrong, therefore you make it right. Not me."

I stay silent before looking away. I sigh out running a hand through my hair. "H-how is she?" I ask quietly.

"Do you actually care?"

I stare at her before she shrugs throwing her hands up. "Well Michael, what do you think? She sure isn't happy."

I look away.

She stares at me for a moment as I stay silent. "Do you honestly believe she did it?"

"I-I..." I stop talking before letting out a deep sigh. "I don't know. I really don't."

"No—" she shakes her head angrily. "You do know, Michael. You're just being a fucking coward."

"Sheryl...how do you really true expect me to feel when I find a check with her name on it?! And attached to that check is none other then Michael Jackson's suicide note?! How do you truly expect me to feel seeing it plastered on every single newsstand in not just the country but the entire world?!!" my voice raises. "Have you read the headlines?

"IS JACKO UNHINGED?" I begin to quote.

"THE CURSE OF THE ELEPHANT MAN'S BONES BEWITCHES JACKSON." I laugh in disbelief as I slowly begin pacing around her.

"And this wasn't done by just anyone, Sheryl! This was done by a woman I--" I shake my head as my eyes begin to well up with hot tears. "Do you know how many people have hurt me? From childhood on up?!" I ask.

"Michael...."

"This one is a little different, Sheryl! This was done by someone I wanted my life with! Every time in my life I get a little dose of happiness it's taken away! And for what?!" I choke out. "For people to lie, cheat, you name it!" I shout as she looks at me her eyes softening. "How much do you expect me to take?! Because I just can't anymore! I don't have it in me!"

"Michael..." she whispers looking straight at me. "Do you believe in your heart that Tatiana did it?"

"The evidence is saying she did."

"But do YOU believe it?" she asks softly. "Forget about what everyone who is crooked has done to you, Michael. Forget about whatever "evidence" you have...from what you know about Tatiana—everything you both have been through, and what is in her heart. Do you believe it?" she asks. "Honestly what is your heart telling you, Michael?"

I open my mouth for a moment before looking away.

"That Tatiana is innocent." I say quietly.

Paul's POV

I sit on the bed staring at the doorway as I twirl the iron bar in my hands slowly, seething.

Even if it kills me, I have to get LaToya and I the hell out of here.

One way or another....

The anger that has possessed my entire being seems to have kicked in my survival mode at an all time high. It was as if that anger gave me supernatural adrenaline.

The bathroom door opens and I shoot my head up swallowing hard as Latoya comes out slowly.

Her curls were pulled back in a ponytail with loose curls framing her face. She had changed into simple cream colored sweater with high waisted jeans.

Her face was bruised and her top lip was still swollen from Jack's beating earlier.

"Hey...." I say gently as she looks up at me slowly. My heart sinks as she locks eyes with me.

Her eyes were completely lifeless, as if she was a complete shell.

She appeared to be even more timid than before and almost skittish like a scared animal. She trembles as she walks across the room sitting down slowly in a chair as she pulls are her sleeves nervously.

"H-how do you feel?" I ask softly.

She keeps her head down as she wraps her arms around herself as if she was almost hugging herself. She rocks back and forth slowly as tears begin to spill from her eyes steadily, flowing down her cheeks.

"I-I wish..." she begins to choke on her tears. "I wish he would just kill me already..." she begins to weep as she covers her face with her hands. "Oh god....I'd rather be dead." she sobs. "I'd rather be dead."

I immediately rush over to her as I drop to my knees in front of her. "Toya...no." I whisper as I rest my hands on her knees. "I need you to listen to me."

"It doesn't feel like it now...but you can't give up." I say in a serious tone. "We can't give up...you can't let him kill your spirit. It's what is keeping you going. It's what has kept me going. If you let Jack take that away from you...you're letting him win. And I'm not letting that happen."

She sniffles softly.  "But how? We can't get out of here and he has eyes all around here." she whispers.

"We are going to get out of here, Toy...I swear that to you. I'm not just going to lay down and—" I furrow my eyebrows as I see a light flashing through the curtains and begin to hear voices. I walk over peeking out the window.

I clench my jaw seeing Jack surrounded by his men. "We have to head out tonight." Jack says to the group gathered around him.

"I want to be prepared for when they get here, and I don't want any fuck ups." he hisses. "Now let's head out."

"What about them?" one of his men nods towards the house as I crouch down quickly hiding from any possible view.

"They aren't going anywhere. Latoya's mind alone is her prison." Jack chuckles. "As for Paul—he's a little tied up." he snickers before nodding. "Simon and Pierre will keep an eye out." he chuckles before walking away to his vehicle getting in.

Everyone begins to follow suit, with the sounds of car doors slamming shut and engines roaring to life before they begin to pull out the long driveway.

"What's happening?" Latoya asks softly as I look over at her confused.

"They're leaving."  I step back and the creak of the floor underfoot makes me pause, as I look down slowly.

"P.W" I say quietly as she looks up at me confused.

"W-what?"

I begin to look around the room slowly. "P.W..." I say again as she wrinkles her eyebrows.

I step on the floor again as it creaks. I slowly begin to take a step back and forward.

"Paul—" she says as I take two slight jumps to the left. "What are you doing?"

"I can't believe I didn't recognize this room, before." I chuckle to myself as I take a slow step to the right. She looks at me confused as I begin to smile to myself.

"Remember that promise I made to you a few minutes ago?" I ask as she raises an eyebrow. I continue to move around the room listening to the creaks in the floor.

"Paul...what are you doing?" she says sitting up more in her chair.

I take the tiniest step in the back before the floor sounds more hollow as I step down. I kick back the Persian rug on the floor and wince painfully as I get down on my knees seeing the tiny familiar initials carved in the floor.

"It's still here." I chuckle lightly running my finger across it.

Latoya gets up slowly making her way towards me as she gets down on the floor. "What?" she sees my initials in the floor and furrows her eyebrows.

"I've never seen that." she says as I smile lightly.

"No one was supposed to." I look up at Latoya and gently reaches out taking the bobby pin from her hair. I slide the pin in between the wood slots, before being able to push to wooden plank up.

"What—" Latoya begins as I reach down in the floor.

"When I was 17, I knew I was going to leave this place—this was actually my old room." I mumble feeling around. "Jack was beating on my mom...just a lot of shit." I pull out a small wooden box.

"If the time came to get out...I had a plan." I say popping open the box. There inside was various baseball cards, marbles, and random collectible dum dum wrappers.

Latoya raises an eyebrow looking over at me. "This ?" she says before letting out an exasperated sigh. "This was your great plan? How was this going to help?"

I chuckle taking them out. "Well...that wasn't going to help. But this was—" I say popping open the fake bottom.

I hand her a manilla envelope as she looks rips it open slowly. She pulls out a thick wad of cash as I pull out a heavy paper bag.

I empty the bag slowly as bullets drop in my hand and a gun.

Silence fills the room as Latoya looks at the pieces of metal in my hand as I begin to stand up slowly walking to her bed, her eyes following me.

She silently gets up as she enters the closet grabbing a backpack and a carry-on bag and immediately goes through drawers and starts packing.

I slowly open the action, making sure the firearm's chamber and barrel are clear and unobstructed, before I begin to load the bullets into the chamber. 

The only noise in the room is the silent clicking of each bullets entering the chamber.

I close the action, before my eyes meet Latoya's.

It's time.

Michael's POV

"I expect everyone to be on time. On time with rhythm and on time being here. Where is Tatiana and Sheryl?" I ask angrily. "They both know they can't miss rehearsals."

Greg purses his lips as Ricky looks away whistling and rocking back and forth on his heels as everyone else mutters among themselves.

The news of Tatiana leaving has spread to everyone on the tour. Ever since that night I hadn't seen a sign of her.

She wouldn't show up during breakfast, dinners, press events—nothing.

The one time I had built the courage to knock on her hotel door, she wasn't there.

Despite being the cause, I couldn't help but feel anxious about not seeing her, which was making  me take it out on everyone.

"There's Sheryl..." Ricky mumbles as I turn around seeing Sheryl walk across the stage to join the group.

I sigh rubbing the bridge of my nose before looking over at Sheryl. "Where have you been?" I ask quietly.

She gives me a knowing look as I bite on my lip staring back at her.

"She isn't coming." I say knowingly as she looks down. "She's avoiding me."

"Duh." Greg mutters as I cut my eyes on him. He quickly ducks down. As he fixes the wires to his keyboard.

"She uhm—" she pauses brushing her hair back. "Tatiana will be here for the shows." she says quietly. "She feels obligated to show up for that, and that only."

I swallow hard before nodding and looking away as I put my hands on my hips walking away. "Alright...let's get started."

Tatiana's POV

"Tati....please don't leave." Winnie whines as I wrap a towel around my head walking out the bedroom as Winnie sits on the bed, pleading.

All I wanted was to wash my hair in the little peace that was left, but Winnie wasn't having it.

As a matter of fact no one was.

As soon as word got around that I was leaving the tour, everyone was lining up at the door or calling my room to talk me out of it.

Even Frank, had come by begging for me to stay or think about it longer.

I wasn't budging or planning on it either. Quite frankly, I didn't want to hear it or even hear the name "Michael."

"You can't just quit..." she says as I sigh

"Winnie...you'll understand more when you're older. But I'm done here. There's nothing left for me here and it's time to move on."

"There is something left! Michael!"

I begin to feel my emotions rise as I shout;

"Winnie! That's enough! I don't want to hear it! I don't want to hear about this tour! I don't want to hear about staying and for fucking sake, I don't want to hear about Michael!"

Winnie looks at me taken aback as I storm back in the bathroom slamming the door shut.

__________________________________

Hi everyone,

First of all—

It's been a long time since I've been back to writing here. It's taken me a minute to post because I was pretty insecure to post and kept redoing it over and over.

I deeply apologize that I'm rusty and I thank you all for your loyalty to this story. This is my warm up chapter, so please take it a lil easy on me!

I took a break from Wattpad and the fandom because at the time I was around...there was just a lot of constant negativity that was hurting me.

If you are an OG Wattpad MJ fandom...you know it was popping off on here back in the day to say the least lol.

While I made so many friendships and had wonderful experiences on this site/app, I had to separate myself from it all for a while.

I had to do what was best for me and my mental wellbeing. I needed to experience things outside of here and not be consumed with a lot of the negatives.

And as hard as it was—I had to cut off myself from the MJ fandom.

I want to stress that it had NOTHING to do with Michael, and my love for him hasn't ever diminished.

While being back (silently) I can't lie...I'm scared to get back to writing and posting. I'm easing my way back in and I'm laying kind of low but;

I missed being here and you all. There's so many new people and incredible new stories (please recommend some!)

Thank you all for being so loving to this story—thank you for your DMs, comments and rereads.

And as always...

xoxoxo,
moonwalkergal ❤️