Michael's POV

I pace the hotel hallway, hands buried deep in my pockets, as if somehow clutching at the fabric would stop the nerves from eating me alive. The silence of the empty corridor only amplified my thoughts, a relentless loop of what-ifs and I-shouldn't-haves. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to see her. I had to make this right, whatever that meant.

The soft ding of the elevator echoes down the hall, and I turn, almost against my will, my pulse quickening.

There she was—Tatiana, stepping out, focused on rummaging through her purse, searching for her room key. She wore a white tank top tucked into high-waisted Calvin Klein jeans that hugged her figure perfectly. Effortlessly stunning, even when she didn't know anyone was watching.

She was always like that, though. Just... effortless.

I swallow hard, my heart drumming in my chest as I watch her walk, her curly hair bouncing slightly with each step. She hadn't seen me yet; for a moment, I just stood there, taking her in. But I couldn't hold back any longer.

"Tati..." I said, clearing my throat, my voice barely more than a whisper.

She looks up, surprise flickering across her face before she quickly shut it down, her expression going cold. She walked right past me, her eyes focused straight ahead, as if I were nothing more than a shadow.

I couldn't let her go like this, not again. I forced myself to speak, quickening my pace to follow her. "You... you weren't at rehearsal today."

No response. She continues down the hall, her attention seemingly on finding her key, ignoring me completely. I deserved it—I knew that. But I couldn't stand it.

"Tati, please. We need to talk."

Still, nothing. She stops in front of her door, and before I could second-guess myself, I reach out, gently gripping her arm, turning her to face me.

Tatiana's POV

"Tati... please," he whispered, his voice trembling as his hand came to rest on my waist, his other hand lightly touching my arm. The warmth of his fingers sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my breath hitch. He was so close, his face mere inches from mine, his dark eyes searching mine, pleading for something he couldn't say.

Why was he here? And why, after everything, did it have to hurt so much to see him like this?

I swallowed, taking a step back, crossing my arms, trying to put up a barrier between us as his hands dropped back to his sides. "What is it you want, Michael?" I sighed, forcing myself to sound unaffected, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.

He looked down, shuffling his feet, struggling to find the words. "I—I..." He hesitated, glancing up at me, his face torn. "I just... I don't want you to leave."

I closed my eyes, fighting back the wave of frustration and sadness. "Do you think I did it?" I asked, my voice quiet, but each word came out like a challenge. He looked stunned, caught off guard.

"What?"

"Do. You. Think. I. Did. It," I repeat, each word sharper, cutting through the air between us. I searched his face, waiting for a truth he seemed afraid to admit.

He hesitated, the silence stretching between us. "I—I don't know," he finally said, his voice barely audible.

A bitter laugh escapes my lips, and I look away, blinking back the sting of tears. "Then what are we even doing here, Michael? You say you don't want me to leave, but how can you ask me to stay when you don't even trust me?"

He reached out, almost instinctively, as if trying to close the gap between us, but I stepped back, crossing my arms tighter around myself. "All I know," he murmured, voice breaking, "is that I don't want to lose you."

His words hung in the air, heavy and raw, and I looked up, meeting his gaze. A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it, and I brushed it away quickly. "You want to believe me, Michael, but there's a difference between wanting to and actually trusting me."

He looked stricken, the weight of my words sinking in as he opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, at a loss.

I forced myself to keep going, to say the things I'd kept buried for too long. "If I stay," I whispered, my voice breaking, "we're just going to end up in this same place again, hurting each other over and over. And maybe next time, it'll be even worse."

"Tati, please..." he murmured, his voice thick with desperation, reaching for me once more.

I shake my head, stepping back, fighting to keep the tears from falling. "I can't keep doing this, Michael. I can't keep putting myself through this."

He looks at me, his eyes wide, full of hurt and regret. "But... what about us?"

The question hangs there, lingering in the air, both of us too afraid to answer it. I close my eyes, taking a shaky breath before looking back up at him, my heart breaking all over again. "If I stay, Michael... there'll be nothing left of us."

My voice cracks, and I swallow hard, willing myself to stay strong as he looks at me, his face full of anguish, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something that would change everything but couldn't find the words.

For a moment, the silence pressed down on us, and I almost lost my resolve. I force myself to step back, to open the door, my hand shaking on the handle. "I'll see you at the next concert, Michael," I whisper, not daring to look back as I gently close the door between us.

Michael's POV

I stare at the closed door, my heart twisting painfully, the weight of everything I couldn't say suffocating me. All I had to do was tell her that I believed her.

That I trusted her, that I knew, deep down, she hadn't done it. But the words stayed trapped inside me, like a prison I couldn't break out of.

I press my forehead against the door, letting out a strangled breath. Why was it so hard? Why couldn't I just say it? I felt my fingers curl into fists, frustration and helplessness boiling inside me. Everything I wanted—everything I needed—was on the other side of that door, slipping away.

I close my eyes, trying to imagine a world where I could let her go, where I could say goodbye. But every time, it felt like losing a part of myself. Like letting go of something I didn't know how to live without.

"No," I whispered to myself, my voice choked with determination. "I can't lose her. I can't."

I knew I had to make this right. Whatever it took, however long it took, I would find the words. I would give her a reason to stay.

Because losing her wasn't an option. Not this time.

Not ever again.

Winnie's POV

The diner lights flickered just slightly, casting a dim glow over the corner booth Clifton and I had claimed. Outside, rain drizzled against the window, giving the place a quiet, isolated feel. It was the perfect spot for this conversation, the kind of talk that needed low voices and no interruptions.

Clifton sat across from me, his fingers drumming idly against the chipped tabletop. His usual easygoing smile was gone, replaced by a pensive, almost hardened expression. He was worried—more than worried. I could feel it. And the fact that Clifton was this serious made my heart pound just a little harder.

He stares at the piece of paper of names he had scribbled out.

"So, you think someone's been sabotaging them for sure now?" I finally asked, trying to break the silence. My voice was barely a whisper, as if saying it louder would make it real.

It was a dumb question to ask—but it was my nerves speaking for me. We were working against time. It wouldn't be too long for last leg of the concert before Tatiana leaves.

And then her and Michael would be done...for good.

Clifton looked at me, his brows furrowing as he took a deep breath. "I don't think, Winnie. I know. I don't know who or why yet, but... there's too much happening for this to be just coincidence.

I-I know I entertained the idea you were being dramatic at times." he swallows fixing his glasses. "But I'm on board now—" he sighs. "It's like between someone and both of them feeding each other a bunch of half-truths, they are being pushed apart." he groans lightly. "And so much is going on it's hard to even keep up."

I nod, glancing down at my fries, untouched and cooling. He was right. Over the past few weeks, it seemed like every little thing between Michael and Tatiana had become a reason for tension, for distrust. Every time they'd try to get closer, something would pop up, leaving them frustrated and hurt.

Oh, and not to mention almost dead.

"The question is... who would want to come between them?" I asked, looking up at Clifton, searching his face for any clues.

He shook his head, sighing. "That's the hard part. Michael's got plenty of people who don't want to see him happy, sure, but Tatiana? She's got a few people who might be jealous, but no one who'd go to these lengths—except one person. And whoever's behind this, they know exactly what they're doing."

I grab a fry chewing on it thoughtfully before letting out a sigh. "Would Karen actually go through those many hoops though?"

Clifton grows quiet. "I wasn't talking about Karen."

I look up at him. "But she's dead, remember?"

"I know but..." Clifton taps his pen on the table quickly staring at the list of names. "Karen is in love with Michael. Don't get me wrong—she's a lunatic. But she wouldn't hurt Michael, she just runs her mouth too much about him and anyone who he is involved with—" he says shrugging. "She's going to hate."

"So.....?"

"I'm saying—any enemy of her enemy is going to be her friend. Which makes her the mirage of it all. I think she knows a lot...but I don't think she's the master of it all."

"So...who do you think it is?"

"Uhh...what about Frank? Or someone apart of management? Maybe even one of the crew members who's seen how serious Michael's been about her. Someone who thinks they're protecting him by driving her away."

"You really think Frank could be apart of this?" I raise an eyebrow as he groans.

"No. I think he's just annoyed by it all. But I mean—he does have that godfather vibe, ya know?"

I snort. "Because he's Italian?"

"No—he just has that thing." he snickers lowly taking some of my fries. "Okay, then—maybe it isn't Frank.

But what about Greg or Ricky?"

We both stop and share a look.

"No." We both say in unison automatically."

"Sheryl...?" He asks as I raise an eyebrow.

"Sheryl?"

"I mean—think of it this way....Tatiana tells her everything. When Tatiana leaves, Sheryl replaces her...Greg got whacked and she and Greg have a thing..." Clifton says. "A-and that tape.."

A young waitress comes by, placing a plate of fries and another Pepsi in front of Clifton, as we both quickly go mute and give her small smiles as she walks away.

"Think about it, Winnie," he said, his voice low. "Every time they have a moment together, something happens to break it up. A rumor spreading at just the right time, someone getting hurt..." He trails off, tapping his pen thoughtfully.

My mind drifts off as he speaks as I think about the tape.

"Clif—but you saw the tape...it looked like.."

"It couldn't be." Clifton says instantly shaking his head in absolute denial.

"She's crazy enough to.."

"But she's.."

"Is she really though?" I whisper as Clifton's eyes meet mine slowly.

We stare at each other, our eyes going from either constant denial to fear. It couldn't have been her. But we both know what we saw....

The thought made me shiver. To be under such scrutiny, to have someone watching every move, every private moment—it was chilling.

And the fact that Michael and Tatiana were dealing with that, all while trying to navigate their own emotions, made me ache for them.

"But here's the thing, Clifton," I said, trying to piece together my own thoughts. "Even if we figure out who's behind this... what do we do? Confront them? Tell Michael and Tatiana? What if that makes it worse?"

He looked at me, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "It might. But if we don't do anything, then whoever's behind this will just keep doing it. They'll keep twisting the truth, keep setting them up to fail...and God only knows how tired I am to go to every hospital in the world. We can't stand by and watch that happen."

I could see it in his eyes—the determination, the fierce loyalty. Clifton had become so close to Michael, going every and anywhere with him. Anything Michael said or did was law in Clifton's eyes.

He cared about Michael and Tatiana as much as I did, and we weren't  going to let someone tear them apart without a fight.

Clifton leaned forward, lowering his voice even more. "We'll start small. Keep our eyes open. Pay attention to anyone who seems too interested in them, too invested in their... distance. And if we find anything—anything at all—then we'll go from there."

He reached across the table, squeezing my hand gently, a reassuring smile breaking through his usual serious look. "We'll figure it out, Winnie. Together. We are not going to let whoever's behind this get away with it."

I nodded, my own resolve solidifying. Whoever was out there, whoever was trying to break apart two people who clearly belonged together... they didn't know what they were up against.

With one last glance at each other, we fall silent, sharing an unspoken vow.

We'd get to the bottom of this.

We'd protect them, no matter what it took.

I glance over at a man reading the newspaper and I freeze.

An image of Paul is on the front cover and I look back at Clifton.

"I-I think....I think this might involve Paul."

—————————————————————————

To my dear readers, friends, supporters, etc ❤️,

Please know I have not abandoned you or this story. Since I took a long time writing and updating, I've been going back to read it and I've been taking notes on corrections/details for the next chapters etc.

Thank you to those who have recently helped refresh my memory, or point out errors! Please know this doesn't offend me at all but it gives me so much help 😭🙌🏽 Yall are the bomb for it!

So please note—I will keep writing this book until the end! I'm sorry if I'm slow. I want this to be perfect because you all deserve that so much.

Also....

Upon coming back to Wattpad a lot of changes have been made that I'm not used to (but adjusted to)

But coming back I've found that a lot of writers have been complaining that their stories have been erased. (I'm currently in the process of saving my work to my personal files, in case the inevitable happens.)

Another worry I have is this—

Wattpad will be/has gotten rid of private messaging (which is just a load of B.S, in my opinion,especially since the feed is gone)

I came back to Wattpad not only because I miss writing greatly, but because I miss interacting with the MJ community.

You all get me, and I miss being around/interacting with those who share my love for Michael (and Prince as well).

You all are my family and this was the platform I enjoyed having community with you.

Especially with the MJ film coming next year, I know emotions will be high—and I just wanted to be surrounded by you all, you know?

Being back here has been healing in so many ways, and has given me so much happiness lately.

If anyone can recommend any platforms where I can interact with you, and post this story (in case it is ever taken down by Wattpad) I want to be prepared and have backups available.

I have made an A03 account and will be creating other platforms as well.

I have no plans on leaving Wattpad for now or taking this story down (so don't worry!) but I just need to figure out backups, and any recommendations will help greatly!

That's it for now.

Please, please Vote/Comment!

Xoxoxo,

moonwalkergal