Chapter Three: Two Views

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Business and pleasure, a forbidden duo. It's always been labeled as an intolerable taboo. No one is allowed to mix the two, it will only end in disaster. But I've dared to take the plunge. Differentiating my relationship with Michael and my role as a news anchor and journalist. I've done so for ample amount of years and the taboo has yet to have scarred me.

So I thought.

"Awe Greensleeves! Just the woman I wanted to see!" He greets me, his meaty hands raised into the air for emphasis.

Beige tux, a bit out of date. Sleazy smile, befitting to his equally sleazy personality. He's the only man I've ever actually thought about giving a good nook of the head to. But of course, my personal thoughts subside to my professionalism as I return his greeting.

"Hello Mister Gasden. I see you're quite happy" I assume, glancing over the hefty man.

With light chuckles he nods and wraps his arms around my neck.

Such professionalism.

"I'd be a hell of a lot happier if I can have my bestest', yes I said bestest' journalist on tonight's news giving the best story drop to date!" He grins, removing his arm from my neck.

Sighing in relief that I had been released from his distasteful trap, I nod for him to continue. Mister Gasden rarely becomes this elated over a story, so when he does everyone is on high alert. Fortunately for me, I am the one he chose to deliver this story.

"Well Greensleeves, you're going to like this one. It involves a group of black boys from a little town of Gary..." He lulls, looking to the ceiling as if the story unfolded there.

Eying him suspiciously I dare myself to ask the obvious question. I know the answer, but I just want a confirmation.

"As in The Jackson's?"

He nods.

"That's right Greensleeves. You will be talking about your lover boy on air" He beams, clasping his hands together.

Before I could question further, he turns his attention on a fellow journalist, therefore leaving me to ponder.

I've only broadcast a few stories about The Jackson's, more so the stories were about Michael, but they were are great stories. No badgering, no harassing, just displaying young black talent. Though each time I would participate in those broadcast, I always felt bad afterwards when returning to Michael.

He hates being on television and despises the fact that I am apart of the very thing he fears. He fears journalist, bloggers, cameras, and even television within itself because somehow each category manages to paint him on this horrible canvas.

But once again my line between business and pleasure is drawn because as much as I love Michael, I have to do my job. No matter what, right?

Make up, hair, pant suit, all for the camera. My mind clear as well as my objective. My lines still invisible until I step into the hall. I'm no longer nervous, I'm just ready to do what I love best.

"Greensleeves! I have your lines and your story! A made a few minor changes but everything is still pretty much constant. I hope you can do the story. I shouldn't expect a problem, now should I?" He raises a questioning eyebrow as he passes me the papers.

I bite down on my bottom lip, actually nervous. I'm used to the surprises of last minute changes, but he's double checking my assurance for a reason. I don't think I want to know that reason.

"N-No sir... Not a problem at all" I feign a smile.

He claps his hands in acceptance and skips off with a lull of compliments. All the while I reluctantly dare myself to glance over the papers. Inhaling deeply, I turn the papers over.

The greed of the world derives from attention. Attention for a need to be seen, heard, and felt. This greed can drive many to different heights. This greed can even cross a line. This greed, may even ruin trust.

I've recorded the broadcast, staring blankly at the screen through fogged vision. Her chestnut hair curled to perfection, almost making the pain bearable as she chastises my name. She's completely comfortable, her ruby painted lips curved in a smile. Her gestures seemingly genuine as she repeats my name, then my brothers.

"Family fued, Michael wants to call it quits! He has even said that he feels like a puppet under the direction of his father, whom scares him awfully..."

Her words would go on, but I couldn't bare the finale. The broadcast was enough to make me sick. I wish I was death, blind, anything so that couldn't have seen or heard my own girlfriend bash me and my family.

It hurt.

They warned me, but I wouldn't listen. They told me stories, but I just didn't see them. They try to pull me away, but I just wouldn't budge. And now the moment I experience it for myself, now more words or warnings are heard. Not even a measly "I told you so".

Silly Michael, giving his heart to a reporter.

"Michael, baby come out of that room. You have to eat sometime today" Mothers voice calls from the other side of the door.

I exhale slowly, still glued into my seat. The only seat I've been sitting in since last week. I've only stood from this seat to sleep, shower, dress myself, use the bathroom, or maybe even drink or eat. I just can't bring myself to venture anywhere else. There's no point.

I only look into the window to catch the glimpse of the giraffes in the farther end of Hayvenhurst. I even catch a glimpse of the setting sun if I'm not interrupted. I've found solace in staring out of this window. I can be lost in my world, which is a world away from her.

My focus returns to the window, though from time to time I catch mothers conversations. She will talk to different Jackson's, trying to configure a plan to evict me from this bedroom. That one noting about my family, when I want to be left alone, I won't be left alone.

After ten long minutes, foot steps fade as well as voices. Finally, I am free to breathe a little easier and continue my field trip in "Michael's world".

In "Michael's world", nothing goes wrong. There's no communist. No muckrakers trying to discover the "next big scoop". There's no yellow page journalist to break my heart, it's just me and my imagination.

Just wondrous.
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A/n: I'm sorry RedBird13 for the delayed update! I hope this is worth it! I didn't want to go over the limit and I didn't know if I should do just her point of view or his, so I combined them! I hope it didn't coagulate too badly. I still want the story to run smoothly. Well, this chapter has 1,096 words so all together we have a collected 5,888 words! So we have 4,112 words to go! That's like two or four chapters for me! We have to get things moving! Hee-hee, well we will see. Any-hoo, I hopes you enjoyed the chapter Birdie! Though I you're probably saddened that you have hurt Michael (Sorry girl, I always have some type of drama!) well, let me know what you think guys! Comment, Vote, and even share. And again, I encourage you to take the challenge as well!

Yours always, M.E

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