Another Part of Me: A Michael Jackson Love Story

MJ-2040

August 29, 1995
The Streets

[Michael's POV]

It's nine at night and I'm really trying to savor this hotdog.
Yes, I bought one hotdog. The fuck am I supposed to do living off of fifty bucks. Nice going, Steph.

I took another bite of my hotdog and started walking into nowhere.
What I could I possibly do to even get my life back on track?
Get a job? Hell no. No ones gonna want an ex convict working for them. The trust level's never gonna go past zero. Especially for the time I've served for. People will just ask around, sticking their noses in my business. "What you do?" "Why you go to jail?" "Oh he bad, don't mess with him." Blah, blah, blah, bullshit.

I huff, feeling exasperated.
I'll just see if someone could lend me a room for the night.

[Omniscient]

Michael walks pasts a couple of houses being careful of which one to approach.
People can be rude.

He sees a house that's slightly smaller than all the other ones and has a mini flower garden. He peeks in the window and sees an older lady, knitting on a sofa.
She was white woman with a nice house decor. He also spotted that her dinner table was filled with different foods and plates that seated nine people.
This all made his mouth water so he looked down for a second and got ready to knock on the door.

Michael knocked three times before the door opened to reveal a beautiful woman with glimmering, kind, violet eyes. It was Elizabeth Taylor! But what she doing in this part of LA? Michael thought. He smiled when he saw her eyes. "Hey! You're-"
"None of your gotdamn business." She cut him off as he took a step back to see her face better as it revealed a not-so-kind facial expression.

"What the hell do you want?" The grumpy woman said, folding her arms while laying against the door frame. "Umm..I wanted to know if you could lend me a room?...My girlfriend kicked me out for the night, so I'll be out by morning." He lied. In this part of LA, it's best not to let anyone know that you're alone. That way you're chances of being kidnapped and killed are low. Of course, she's an old woman who couldn't possibly do any harm, but Michael wasn't taking any chances.

The woman looked him up and down. "Are you still associated with this girlfriend of yours?" He shook his head, no. "You're lying to me. No one here lies to me. You're wearing a prison uniform, so you just got released, didn't you?" Michael looked down and scratched his neck nervously.
"You saw the plates on the table didn't ya?" She cocked a devious eyebrow as he nodded.

"BOYS!!" She called, still looking at Michael.
Nine grown men that all looked rough and were big and muscular came out of the house all looking at Michael like bloodhounds ready to pounce on him. Michael tried hard not to show it but he was shaking in his boots.
"Get him outta here, now!" She growled. Michael's eyes darted down to the boys already balled up fist and he bolted down the street. He looked back while running and saw the boys on his tail.

[Michael's POV]

Damn, these boys should be track stars with how they're coming at me.
Shit. I need to start moving more.
Maybe I am getting old.
Wait! Where am I even going?

What felt like an hour was really 10 minutes of me running away from these fathead rascals. I don't have time for this honestly.
I'm so pissed right now. Why did I even knock on that woman's door.