The Desired Constellation (Michael Jackson Fanfic)

Zone Ten : Survival

"If you looked in my life

And seen what I've seen..."

A trip? Was she out of her mind? What if the paparazzi would find out about them? Michael was very reluctant about this. "I don't think we can do that now, Reese." he explained. Reese never took "no" for an answer. It was either her way or the highway. That's how she'd always been and she wasn't going to change for Michael.

An eyebrow raised immediately. Her lips pouted. "What do you mean?" Her voice was a bit raspier than before. She was visibly pissed. Michael gulped down nervously and let go of her waist. "Reese, the paparazzi are always following me. Everywhere I go. You know that. I can't just show up with..." His thin lips remained parted. What the hell was he trying to say?

She clenched her jaw and turned her back. She was head over heels for him but still had to remain firm. "You can't show up with me, right? That's what you were trying to say." Michael could feel his stomach churn with fear. Fear of losing her. Why on earth would he make her think that?

"Reese...I didn't mean to say that. I don't wanna upset you." His soft voice was almost trembling. He was so close to her, yet so far away. "It's fine. I guess I can understand you. I should go downstairs to check on the employees. I need to sign some papers and make some calls..." With that, she turned her back and placed a small kiss in the corner of his mouth. His cheeks turned red in an instant.

Michael returned the kiss but in a more passionate manner and grabbed her chin. "I should get to my suite. I haven't seen it yet." He chuckled, trying to make her forget about what just happened. He hated to upset people, especially her. She nodded at his words and waved as he left the suite.

—— AFTER ONE HOUR ——

Reese was inside her store, surrounded by her employees. She was giving orders. That's what she always did best. The perfumes had to be aligned perfectly, the jewelry had to shine perfectly. Even the angle of the light was a huge concern to her, so that the products would catch the attention of the customers. She was an expert salesman.

The phone began to ring. Pointing her index finger at it, her assistant started running like a scared child. "Hello? This is Grant Luxury Store you've reached. How may I help you?" Reese looked at her assistant curiously. The assistant nodded and started playing with the phone wire. "Very well, sir. I certainly will. Have a great day!" The woman put the phone down and looked at her boss humbly.

"Miss, your lawyer just called. He said that you should receive some important papers regarding the ad campaign in Vogue." Reese placed her hand on her hip and squinted her eyes. "I didn't get any papers. Make sure they get here by 8 PM." The middle aged woman nodded once again and hurried to the back of the store to make some more calls.

The store was already filled with clients. Reese made sure that they were treated properly by her staff. A bigger crowd was heading towards the entrance of the boutique. She smiled to herself. Nothing felt better than success. She couldn't lie, Michael crossed her mind several times. But she had to distance herself a bit from him. She didn't want to give him the impression that she'd always be available.

——

Michael was talking on the phone inside his suite. Sitting on the bed, he frowned and tried to keep his tone down. "I can't do that! Can't you understand? I have to take a break." He was talking to Quincy Jones. The producer got mad because Michael didn't show up to his studio. They were supposed to finish the last song on the "Bad" album.

"Where are you, Michael? Be honest." he said. Michael began to tap his foot. He was mad. "Las Vegas." Quincy couldn't believe it. "Are you fucking shitting me, Mike? Get your fuckin' ass in here. I mean it. This album will flop worse than Madonna's first album. Do you hear me?" Michael clenched his fist. He knew that Quincy always kept his promises.

"What do you want me to do? I don't wanna go back to L.A. I have important things to deal with now." He didn't want to reveal more information. Why would he? Quincy was getting beyond pissed off. "What the hell are you there for? Fucking some groupies?" Michael wasn't having it anymore. "Shut up. Shut up right now." He couldn't have a tantrum. Not now. He had to release the album first and then fire Quincy's ass A.S.A.P.

Quincy laughed. "I'll have a jet airplane sent to you near the airport. Tell your driver to take you there. I am expecting you." Michael got up and covered his head with his hands. He couldn't believe it. What about Reese? The album was an urgent matter. He shook his head and got out of his suite quickly. He had to go tell Reese.

——

Reese was outside the store, talking on the phone. Her eyes were red, like she was about to burst into tears. "I don't fucking care about your businesses. You're my fucking daughter. You don't even act like you're my daughter. You must show me respect. Is that clear?" She couldn't even talk. What did he want from her? After all those years since her parents divorced...

She couldn't even call him "dad" or even "father". He was dead to her. "I don't know what to say..." she said in a soft voice. She didn't want to upset him. He was probably drunk, watching TV. "I have no high expectations of you. You've always been a disappointment." he said. Tears began to fall from her eyes. It was hard to hear your own father talk like that. She couldn't hang up on him. He would call again.

Michael ran to her. He saw her back. His heart was racing, but not in a good way. He was scared to tell her about his phone call with Quincy. Grabbing her shoulders, Reese jumped a bit and wiped her eyes quickly. Michael's jaw literally dropped. It was the first time he saw her cry. He wanted to punch someone in the face in that moment.

Taking the phone away from her ear, Reese let it fall on the ground and cupped her own face. She was sick of her abusive, alcoholic father. And now Michael looked at her as if he was about to give her some more bad news. She wanted to die. "Reese, what happened? You look so pale!" She shook her head and gasped for air. "I just...it was...You know, my father. He phones me weekly."

Michael placed both his hands on her shoulders. He had no idea about her troubled family. "Reese...I am so sorry. I have to tell you something...I gotta get to Los Angeles. Quincy is pressuring me." In that moment, she lost it. She began to cry like a baby. It was too much for her to handle in that moment. The unhealed wounds of her childhood began to bleed. She felt abandoned by both her father and now...Michael?

"Take me with you, Michael. I need to get outta here."

A/N : Tough chapter to write. I took a lot of inspiration from my own life and the awful situations I've been going through. Hope you enjoy it.