Forced II: Whatever Happens

Epilogue II - June 25th

7th of July, 2023
Jake is 60

Prince: I lifted my fist for what seemed like the tenth time by now.

It made contact with the door, the sound of knocking echoing through my apartment.

"Leo, please. We gotta go." I said.

"Then go." he could barely be heard.

Lily appeared next to me. "He still won't open?"

Sighing, I shook my head.

"Leo! Come on."

"Maybe we should just leave him. We're gonna be so late, grandma Katherine is gonna kill us." my step-sister crossed her arms.

"We can't show up only eight siblings, you know it doesn't work like that." I mumbled and kept knocking.

Leo grunted loudly, then he yanked open the door. "What?!"

My baby brother's face showed how annoyed he was. Still in his PJ's, shoulder-length curls were frizzy, his room behind him a mess.

"Can you get dressed, please? We have to leave in 10 minutes." I tried to stay calm although I was upset with him not being ready.

"I already told you, I'm not not going. Why the fuck can't you just leave me alone, Prince?!"

"Woah. Calm down, bro. You know we all have to go-"

"But I said I'm not going, bro. Leave. Me. Alone."

He was about to a shut the door in my face, but I stopped it.

I looked into his eyes, "What would dad say if he heard you didn't want to come to his memorial service?"

"He'd be grateful," Leo scoffed. "Because he wouldn't want us to take part in this... Circus."

I looked down, not wanting to admit he was right. And yet we had to show up, because it was expected of us as Michael Jackson's children. His 'legacy', as I heard someone say once.

Dad passed away almost two weeks ago, on June 25th, at the age of 64. From non other than an overdose.

It started about three months after mom died; dad was just a mess.

His insomnia took over, there were days on end when he didn't sleep. He tried to distract himself with making music, and he even went back to do some performances.

That cycle soon led him to confide in sleeping pills and pain killers once again. He kept it quiet, for about four years.

Until I stepped into his bedroom at Neverland one day, accidentally finding a pill bottle under his bed.

We tried to send him to rehab, after we begged him to go. Telling him we can't lose him too, not after what happened to mom.

He really gave it his all, even went to therapy to try and battle his demons, his grief. But he lost, and a couple weeks ago I got a phone call from Leo early in the morning.

"Prince, it's dad! I- I went to wake him up for breakfast but he won't wake up. Dad? Daddy?! Please, wake up!"

That day still haunts my nightmares. The drive to Neverland, seeing all those cop cars when I arrived. They asked me to identify him, still in his bed, surrounded by empty bottles and puke.

And poor Leo, he wouldn't leave his side. He just sat there on the bed, staring at our father's lifeless corpse as if it would bring him back.

"We all have to be there, Leo," Lily reached to take his hand. "We're his family. We're all he had before-"