Part 59: Say Something I'm Giving Up On You

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June's point of view

This isn't going to be easy to say, especially now because of my sore throat, but I have to. I don't want anybody else to announce it to Michael. This is my responsibility to tell him. I took a deep breath and stared right through his eyes with an apologetic look.

"What's that look? What happened, June?" Michael asked me, becoming suspicious. I could feel the tears ready to get out of my eyes.

"Matt... He-he--" I began, unable to finish my sentence for now.

"What? What about him?"

"He kissed me" I mumbled under my breath.

"W-what?" Michael hissed, releasing my hand from his. "This motherfucker kissed you?" 

Wow, it's the first time I hear this word coming out from Michael's mouth. I know he's beyond pissed now.

"And you let him?" He shouted, looking straight into my guilty eyes.

"No! O-of course not! I tried to push him away, but he..." I paused and smallowed. "He forced me to kiss him in front of the paparazzi."

"In front of the paparazzi?!" Michael yelled, making me gasp a little. I can hear my heart monitor beeping faster.

"Michael," I began, feeling my breathing increase, "don't yell at me."

"What else did he do, huh?"

"He told me he did this on purpose. So you can see that I'll be his when you'll get tired of me" I declared, ignoring my aching throat.

"This asshole has some nerves! He shouldn't have tried me."

"What? Michael don't do anything stupid, he--"

"Stupid? So now I'm the one acting stupid?" He asked me in disbelief.

"No, I didn't mean that, it's just--" I trailed off because I started hyperventilating. I couldn't speak another word because I couldn't control my breathing anymore.

I looked at Michael, and he was staring at me in shock, and he didn't do a move. He stayed frozen in front of me, while I clearly needed help. Like a minute later, he finally yelled for some help on the hallway, and a nurse came into my room. She looked at Michael wide eyed, but quickly turned her attention at me. I could hear my heart monitor's beeps getting faster, and I was hoplessly searchingn for air when the nurse in question put an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. A couple of minutes later, Dr. Warren came into my room, and told the nurse Olivia -that's her name- to give me more tranquilizer, because the dose they give me was visibly not enough. I began to regain my breathing back a few minutes later.

"Are you ok now, Miss Wellington?" Dr Warren gently asked me, and I nodded, staring at Michael, then at him. "You visibly had another panic attack. What happened? Was that about the accident?" I nodded, lying. I didn't want the doctor to know I just had another panic attack because my boyfriend is an asshole who yell at me for no valuable reason. "Everything is going to be fine now. I brought you your treatement, you'll have to take it as soon as you're discharged from here, ok? We are going to give it to you through your IV while you're here though."

"When... Will I be... Discharged?" I asked through heavy breath.

"We are going to keep you here tonight, just in case the treatment doesn't work. It's rare, but it happens sometimes."

I nodded again, and the doctor put my treatment on the nightstand next to me, and left the room with a reassuring smile. I wonder where my mom is... She clearly didn't hear Michael yelling, so she's probably out.

Once the door of my room was closed, Michael walked next to me, and took my hand, but I avoided his touch. I don't want him to touch me right now. He caused this one because he was too preoccupied to yell at me, and he forgot I was in a fucking hospital bed, because my fucking heart is messing up with me. God, I hate him right now. He's supposed to be the one who support me, who trust me. I can't believe him.

"I'm sorry, babe, I--" he began, before I cut him off, raising my left hand to stop him talking.

"Don't," I said, through my oxygen mask. "Just leave." I said through my oxygen mask.

"No," he refused, sitting on the chair next to my bed. "I'm not going anywhere." This stubborn ass.

"I don't... Want you... Here."

"I don't care what you want. I'm staying. Period."

He just sat there, giving me a challenging "make-me-leave" look. I rolled my eyes at him, and looked at the window. He's staying? Ok. I don't care. I'm not talking to his overractive ass. I removed the oxygen mask from my face, and put it back on the nightstand next to me. I took the remote control and turned the TV on. I put a news channel on, and laid my head on the pillow, completly ignoring Michael.

"So you're not going to talk to me?" He asked in a sad voice.

"So you can tell at me again?" I snapped, ignoring my breathing. Guess my anger spoke this time. "No, thanks."

"Look, I'm sorry for yelling at you, ok? I didn't mean to, but my anger spoke. I knew this guy wasn't clear, I warned you but you kept ignoring me. I have the right to be mad, don't you think?"

I regained my breathing, and finally made eye contact with Michael. "You can be mad, but you can't tell at me like this. You made me have another fucking panic attack! And you just watched for like a minute me while I clearly needed help. You were this mad at me? That's why you didn't budge when I needed air? You just told yourself "this is what go get for kissing another man"?" He didn't answer and looked at me with wide eyes.

"Wh-what? Are you telling me I didn't want to help you?"

"Pretty much. Need a translator?" I snapped.

"June, I told you I was sorry, dammnit!"

Here he goes again with the cursing and yelling.

"Yeah, you think that's enough? You act like a douche and then you apologize? Oh boy, life isn't that easy. You should have asked me if I feel ok instead of fucking yelling at me!" My turn to yell. "Matt fucking forced me to kiss him! He hurt me, Michael! But you're just too blind by the hate you have towards him that you didn't even get that!" I sighed heavily and tried to calm myself. I don't want to risk another attack.

"He what?" Michael asked, standing up from his chair. Anger was written all over his face, just as guilt.

"Yeah, you heard right," I snapped, returning to the TV.

"June, baby..." Michael softly said next to me, but I ignored him. I focused on the TV, not paying any attention at him. "I'm sorry, I acted like a jerk. I'm just so angry he kissed you, and against your will... Baby, please look at me." He pleaded, but I kept my eyes on the TV screen. "June, please," he pleaded again, wiping a year from my cheek. What? I didn't even know I was crying!

As I was about to turn my attention at him, I heard the TV reporter saying Michael's name.

"That's right, Ross. It looks like the King Of Pop's relationship is a free one! We spotted Michael Jackson's girlfriend, June Wellington, with some guy named Matt Smith, as a source divulged, and they were pretty close, just as the pop star himself was enjoying some chick's company. The pictures speak by themselves, just take a look!"

And then I saw a photo of Michael hugging Anna whose hands were on his butt and her head nuzzled in his neck.

What the fucking fuck is this?

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