Allie's Point Of view ~

I'm looking towards the large window that sits across the kitchen. The thin, white curtain shielding me from the endless shouting of Michael's adoring fans all the way below me. It echos as I hear them where I stand, all the way on the top floor. They love him, they really do. I understand that. I was one of them. And now, I'm dating Michael. 

Something I still can't believe. 

But I know how lucky I am. 

Steam rising out of my coffee mug, into the air where it will then vanish. It warms my hands as they are tightly gripped around it. Yesterday was so insane. It was incredible to see, out of this world to be apart of. I am nervous. I will be honest. What they will say? What will be said? About Michael . . about us. I hate it so much. It makes me so sad. I try my best to ignore it and at times I do. Well, I like to think so. It just hurts. I know it hurts Michael. And that destroys me. I know it hurts Michael too but he is just much better at hiding that. He has had much more practice to do so than me. The things they say about Michael . . 

Ugh. It makes me so angry. 

So angry that it makes me cry. 

Especially about his skin disorder. They just don't believe him. That is something that I don't believe . . something I just can't understand. Michael himself as addressed it before. But they don't care, they don't wish to hear about the truth. But Michael, he is used to it when he just brushes it off. But it bothers me. It's the truth and they don't care. Michael just tells me don't respond to it, let them say what they wish. He says why should I give the media what they seem to want? . . a reaction. Why bring more attention to a thing, he says. I know he is right. I know he is. 

I hear the elevator doors open. It's Charles. He is a member of Michael's security. He sees me, walking towards me. 

"Good morning, Ms Thomas . . " He says. 

"I have the morning paper for you. Mr Jackson asked for this personally. He asked if he could please have it delivered here this morning . . " Charles tells me. 

"Thank you Charles . . " I say with a smile. 

He walks back towards the open elevator doors, closing them once again with the push of a button. He gives me a white-collar nod right before they close completely. I look down at the paper as it now sits in my hands. Oh dear. Here we go. I know why Michael wanted this brought to us. You see, the short film for his new song premiered last night. I know Michael was worried about having me star in it. But I told him, he doesn't need to worry about anything. I'm trying my best . . to keep my head up. I don't want to let them break me. I unwrap the clear plastic that covers it entirely, protecting it from any kind of damage. Slowly, unfolding the paper. 

Front page. It's Michael and I. 

There we are. Wow. Geez, these newspapers sure don't mess around, do they? I read the huge, black text that is printed above our picture. 

'Michael and Allie: Hotter Than Ever!' 

This front page photo ignites my mind. It makes me think back to after filming had taken place. What happened once the cameras turned off. Sneaking away and into that isolated alley. Hmm, Michael fucked me so good. It was mind blowing, sweet yes, but amazing. I remember the look in Michael's eyes as he fucked me against the wall. The feeling of his hot, soft skin against mine. Hmm the overwhelming sensation within me as he thrusted in and out of me so gently but yet with so much power. But Michael wasn't done after that, not yet. We then came back here and made love once again. Wow. I really love this photo. It must've been taken right before Joe, the director called 'cut'. But knowing all that happened after the photo was taken . . there is just an overwhelming feeling of lust and passion coming from the both of us. You can see it. It's so real. It just oozes out of our being. 

I take a deep breath, more information on page three the paper instructs me, the reader. I flip away the previous pages all in one go, finding myself on page three in a matter of seconds. Another piece of text is written. 

'A side of Michael we haven't seen yet . . '

It reads. I smirk to myself as I read that. Well, I have seen this side of Michael . . and it's intoxicating. I just can't describe it. I see many other photos of the short film. Behind the scene shots as well as when we were actually filming it are spread throughout the page. I have the courage to read what else is said about us. My eyes glueing themselves onto the black, miniature font, almost causing me to squint. Okay, what I have read so far is good . . it's quite positive actually. But I have a feeling something will come up that will change all of that. Up until now, it mostly talks about the short film - the process and the inspiration behind it . . me. So sweet. 

I continue reading. 

I gasp softly. Oh my god. 

They are taking about Michael and I's sex life? What the fuck! What gives them the right? They don't have the right. Not at all . . how dare they. Ugh, I just can't believe it. I am so embarrassed. Something that is incredibly private, is written in the daily newspaper for the whole entire world to read about. My family will read this . . my parents. This is so humiliating. I take the final sip from my coffee, throwing my head back to ensure I collect every drop of this liquid gold. I take a deep breath . . the newspaper still in my hand as I walk towards the bedroom. 

Michael is still asleep. 

He looks so sexy, even when sleeping. Incredibly peaceful too. It's always the other way around as Michael suffers from insomnia, so he is the one awake while I'm sleeping. So I love when I get this once in a lifetime chance, it feels. I lean against the bedroom door frame. I can't help but to smile as my eyes never leave his sleeping self. 

When you love someone . . 

In the middle of the night or early in the morning . . don't you ever just look at that person? When the stress of the day isn't going on, when it's quiet and when it's only yourself and that person. Michael is laying on his back, his head facing his right. One arm laying out while his other is across his stomach. I watch him, seeing as his chest gently rises and falls. I hear the sound of his breathing as he does so. The bed sheet resting just over his hips. I see his vitiligo as it mostly is on his chest and stomach. My eyes scanning all over his naked body. As I look at this gorgeous man, I feel my heart skipping many beats as well as butterflies flying all over inside me.  How much I love Michael. It's indescribable. 

I am completely addicted to him. So fucking addicted. 

I walk away from the frame of the doorway, towards him as he lay asleep, completely unaware. I gently place the newspaper on the bedside table before I sit down. So much care is put into it. I sit on the mattress with my legs hanging off the side. My body turned at the hips so I'm facing him. My right hand coming up. I can't help myself. I run my fingers oh so softly along his patches of vitiligo. I look at him as I do so. But Michael doesn't wake up. He still sleeps. His skin still . . always so very smooth, just like a baby. I lean forward. This time, my fingers run up his chest, never leaving his skin and to his face. His curls resting upon his forehead. When I look at him. There is just so much love there . . too much. It's overwhelming at times. 

My finger tips gently move a strand of his curls before my fingers turn so that the back of them runs softly down his cheek. Michael moves slightly, a faint 'mmm' from his lips. His eyes flutter open, he gives me a sleepy smile. 

"Hey Allie. How's my girl? . . " Michael asks. 

He rubs his eyes. I'm now sitting with my legs crossed on the bed, next to him this time. He knows, just by the look on my face, my body language . . it just says it all. I put my right arm across his stomach. I'm thinking about the newspaper, they were talking about our sex life. How dare they. I pick up the newspaper from the bedside table, handing it to Michael . . saying nothing. Michael see's the front page photo of us. He smile from it, making me crack a smile also. I can't help it. Michael flips to page three . . he gets to the section that I'm upset about. He knows I'm upset by it. He doesn't need to double check it with me. His face softens, his hand on my cheek now. 

"Allie, I'm sorry baby . . " He says. 

I look at him. My features soft, my eyes big as they are now full with water. Ugh, I feel so defeated. Michael sits up  suddenly. His forehead right against mine. 

"Don't let them get the better of you, Allie . . " 

" . . I won't allow them to bring down my girl . . " Michael whispers. 

I look back down, my fingers fiddling with anything. Michael's skin to the bed sheet as it's pooled around his waist still. I shrug my shoulders. I don't want to cry. I'm trying so hard not to. 

"You have more experience with the media, Michael. I don't . . " I say softly. 

Michael whispers to me. "Allie, please smile . . " 

His forehead leaves mine. His lips finding my neck, kisses here and there . . all over my skin. One of my hands coming up to sit behind Michael's neck as I feel his lips, taking a hold of his curls back there. 

"Smile, my sexy girl . . " 

Michael whispers, saying it again against my neck, but it's husky. One touch, one kiss from him and I do whatever he wishes. I force myself to put what I read in the newspaper to the back of my mind. Michael leaves my neck, looking at me . . right in the eyes. I smile. His forehead returning to mine gently. 

"Beautiful, my Allie girl . . " Michael says. 

to be continued.