He was talking about having babies, something I probably won't even live to have with people like Paul, Lance, and Benton in the world.

Couple of Weeks Later

Michael was in the studio, working very hard on whatever projects he was accomplishing. It was like he was on his own residency schedule. I would come home and he would be in the studio for 12 to 16 hours a day. Some days he would sleep there at night. He hated when I came in and bothered him. Even if I try to fix him some food. It messed with his "mojo."

Me, on the other hand, have been focused on my own residency. I was officially into my third year of residency, and most of my colleagues wanted me to become Chief Resident over the ER. Being Chief Resident is a big deal of course, who wouldn't want the position? I always saw myself as one, but to work even harder than ever. To not be home or anything? I'm still deciding on the decision to commit to the role.

Of course, I kept tabs on the Paul case, as he was on trial for murder. Possibly could do life in prison. Messing with Michael, he would want the death penalty for his crimes. Some days I had to go out and testify against him and Michael was there for me during this rough time. The case was the only time we really saw each other and be with each other. These days, it was rare to ever be intimate with him, to be in his presence. If he did visit the hospital, it wasn't for me, it was for the children. And if we did see each other in the hospital, we were like strangers to one another, sometimes I wonder what is going on between us.

Things were different, because we both are putting our careers before each other. Was this the price of fame? To give up everything we had for our livelihood?

—

Today, I couldn't stand it anymore. I needed him to know how I felt.

I walked down to his studio, in the basement of the house, knocking on the door. I could feel the vibrations of the music playing as I slowly opened it, watching Michael record his songs in the small, confined box. His voice was beautifully in sync with the melody of the music. I slowly close the door behind me as I walk over, gently knocking on the glass door. Eventually, I got his attention as he stops the recording of the music and walks over to the door opening it,

"Can I help you?"

His tone was somewhat irritated since I bothered him as I mumble, "I miss you." He blinks at me slowly, "I miss you, too, baby. But I'm recording now, and I really can't you bothering me like that? I thought it was like an emergency." I told my arms, "So I'm not an emergency!" He sets the headphones off his ears as he walks me to the door of the studio, "You are an emergency to me, but not the type I'm talking about. Now, you know how I feel about distractions babe.." I look at him wearily, "You don't even kiss me anymore, we don't make love anymore, I don't even see you anymore, and now I'm a distraction to you?" He frowns, "That's not what I really, ugh!"

His hands were in fists while he looked down guiltily, thinking about what he said. I never seen him like this, stressed, tired, and exhausted. He looked like he lost some weight as well. He was overexerting himself too much. I couldn't even find myself mad at him.

I cup his face and kissed his lips softly. He reciprocated the same passion in the kiss as his arms slowly wrapped around my waist. I slowly break away and whispers in his ear, "I miss your touch so much." He mumbles, "I miss having you in my arms, too. But, I have to work? Maybe later we could do something together. I look at him speechlessly at his reaction. He always said that, and next thing you know, he's still in the studio.

Normally, Michael would've been all over me. Begging me to spend time with him. To go to work late so we could make love.

I gently push away from him before breathing slowly as he walks back to the recording box, completely unbothered that I pushed him away from me. I yelled out, "Are you seeing someone else, Michael?!" He stops walking before turning to me, "Pardon?"

"Are you seeing an another woman, Michael?"

His eyes widen, knowing that he heard me correctly the first time before walking over to me, "The only person I've been with is that soundbox over there. Are you really accusing me of cheating because I'm actually doing something for me! My music!" I frown angrily at him, "What's that suppose to mean!" He grumbles, "I've been supportive, protective, loving, and very generous! I've spend so many days with you, with the Paul crap and everything else, Marina! I just want some time to do something for me, for my career!"

I look at him, full of tears, "WELL FINE. HAVE ALL THE TIME YOU WANT WITH YOUR STUPID MUSIC." His nostrils flare at my words as I wipe my face, "I'm sorry I'm such a burden and that I wanted just a little AFFECTION from you. I didn't know that was too much to ask for MR JACKSON. And that I missed you so much, Michael..but I'm done. You obviously care about this over me. Your head is completely gone from what's important. I'm not just a trophy girlfriend, I have FEELINGS TOO! Just..call me when you get some common sense." His face was in astonishment and shock after I finished what I needed to say. I didn't even want to look at him anymore as I walk out the studio, slamming the door behind me. My back rested against the door as I sobbed.

I don't even have a new place to live at..

I walk away from the door as I walk upstairs to our bedroom and started to pack some of my clothes. After I packed, I walked to the phone, calling Miranda. My eyes widen as I felt a body pressed against me as I purr, "Michael?" He whispers, "Yeah..hang up the phone." I shake my head while resting the phone against my ear, talking to Miranda,

"Can I stay with you for a couple of days? My asshole of a boyfriend is just being irritating."

His hands wrapped around my waist as he playfully thrusts his hips against me. I continue to ignore him as I talk to Miranda before hanging up as I swat him off of me, "Go away." He lets go as I grab my bag.

"Baby, you want to make love? Let's do it. Lemme make hot, steamy love with you."

I fold my arms, looking at him, "It's not about that. It's the fact that you called me a distraction, and it seems as though you care about your career over me. Michael, I know our lives are hectic, and that we are passionate with what we do. But, I can't be with someone who can't balance their work life with their love life. I'm not saying we have to be together, 24/7, but to treat me like I'm some burden because of my past trauma..just go away." He tugs on my bag, throwing it across the room.

"You're not going anywhere. Two, I'm sorry. Yes, I got caught up with my stupid career. Everyone expects me to make an album better than Thriller, do you understand how much pressure this is?! I'm scared that I'm going to let people down."

I chuckle while shaking my head, as tears roll down my face, "You just don't get it, huh? What about the people in this house that loves and support you?! You're so caught upon the awards and the glory of an album, when you got people in here who love you regardless of what you make or release...God, what happened to you? You were never like this, Michael. You never worried about what others think." He licks his lips before whispering, "I've changed. People that I work under expect more for me, and I don't understand why you can't understand that."

"I will never understand it, Michael. And, honestly, I don't want to. Good luck with your album and your life. We're over."

He raises his eyebrow while chuckling, "That's a joke right? You can't break up with me." I walk over, grabbing my bag, "I just did. Goodbye. And if those guys come back for me, honestly, I don't want your help or anything." He stood there like a statue, completely blindsided by the turn of events as I walk out of his room.

—
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