𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀.

3.

time skip.
September 2nd, 1992.
- Michael.

The weather is beginning to get chilly, and these thin clothes aren't gonna' do me any good.
but I enjoy the cool, it's nostalgic. Reminds me of a bucket of roses.

"mr. jackson, you sure you don't want a jacket sir?" My friend/body guard bill asked me as I sat down on the grass, shaking my head as a response of no.

I haven't felt nature in the longest, especially with my tour about to start and non stop working. I've only and always been stuck staring at the 4 walls that surrounded me every day.

sleep deprived but also suffering from insomnia was difficult. It kept me up, made me feel alone.

i wish I had company, but the woman I took interest in was far away.

she swore to visit me in New York, when I went for the art campaign & my birthday celebration.

but she never showed, she lied. she called and told me she was stuck in a hotel because of a bad storm & that she was tired.

Brooke Shields , I wondered why she couldn't love me the way I loved her. Why she couldn't lust for me, the way I lust for her.

she probably was ashamed to be with someone like me, I mean the tabloids do say I'm different & weird in a way which I call unique.

I've tried to find love, but it never stuck with me. All my failed relationships in the past only caused me heart ache & sleepless nights.

"bill, do you ever think I'll find the perfect girl for me?" I questioned him all the time about my love life, knowing that I can trust him with the truth.

"well yes joker, but maybe you should wait and take your time. let the woman find you" he spoke out effortlessly, letting the words hit me with sincere and guilt. not a bad guilt, but a guilt that made me think.

maybe I was looking for love to replace my loneliness.

"thank you bill" I smiled standing up from the grass already feeling my mood lighten.

New York City, 2:35 Pm
- Astoria.

"I'm so nervous, I could shit bricks" I nervously bit onto the skin that covered my lip as I heard the high pitched laugh of oceané.

"Chill astoria, yes there are thousands of other brilliant artists who sent in their art work but you never know, yours might stand out" she reinsured me for probably about the hundredth time.

i wasn't nervous about not being picked, but I was nervous about being picked. what if he did find a liking in my abstract art, and picked me.

my profile was mildly awkward & boring, it gave a full description of where I was born and raised. How old I was. And my favorite thing about art.

maybe I should've added more. overthinker.

"I know, but it's just the thought of actually being picked. not only would I receive of a few thousands but I would have the choice to go on tour with michael Jackson" the more I spoke it into existence, is the more crazy it sounded.

tour with michael Jackson.
to paint his life?

( sorry this was short, writing more )