Rain On Me

Part 26 - Overprotective?

Did I just break the guy's camera? . . I'm standing here in shock, trying to realize what the hell just happened. Michael is looking at me smiling a little, letting me know that I don't have to worry about what just happened.

After a while we finally manage to get into the hospital. Poor sick children . . the noise out there from all the fans is unbearable . . . even for me. . now imagine how the sick must feel with all this noise and stress going on outside their bedroom.

"Michael . . . right here . . room 201, 202 and 203"

We walk into the first hospital room . . . there's a little girl resting in her bed. As soon as she lays eyes on Michael, the sadness in her face soon changes to happiness and bliss.

"Michael, Michael!" She shouts. . smiling from ear to ear. "Is it really you? . . is it you?"

"Yes . . you bet, it's me. . how are you doing? what's your name, little princess?"

"I'm Lilly . . . I'm so happy to see you Michael, I may cry"

"Noo, Sweetheart . . there is no need to cry . . how are you?"

Little Lilly is close to breaking down in tears. I feel so bad for her . . . she's got all these pills laying on her bedside table . . . I'm sure seeing Michael helps her forget about her pills for a little while. "I'm doing good . . now that you are here, Michael. Please stay . . please never leave" she says, holding on to Michael's hand so tightly, you might think she'll never let go.

3 hours went by . . we just left the hospital. Michael is visibly taken by the bad conditions the children we visited were in. But it makes my heart melt how beautiful Michael is . . . and how sweet and caring he is towards children.

What a blessing it is to have a healing Impact on children like Michael does. Healing in the sense of bringing a bright and happy smile to those children's faces. It's time for rehearsal . . . Michael looks tired and I need to tell him that he needs to take a step back.

"Misses Miller?" I look to my right. Bill, Michael's bodyguard is talking to me. "May I please talk with you for a minute or two?" I force a smile. "Of course . . about what?" He leads me to a dressing room. "Please take a seat" He says in a calm voice. But the look on his face seems the total opposite of calm. "What do you want to speak to me about, Mr. Bray?"

"I'm just wondering, Misses Miller . . . what's the deal with you and Michael?"

I clear my throat. "Excuse me?"

He continues "I mean . . . what's the deal? . . are you a fan in disguise? Are you really a therapist?"

Clearly angry and negatively surprised I turn to him, eye to eye. "A fan in disguise? I'm Michael's therapist . . . you have known that from day one, Mr.Bray. I'm a professional."

"A professional therapist who visits at night time . . . I must say, you take your job very seriously, don't you?" He says, with a laugh in his voice.

"I very much so take Michael seriously. . . whenever he needs me, I'm there"

"Whenever he needs you, huh?"

"Yes, Mr.Bray . . whenever he needs me . . that's what I'm here for, that's what he pays me for"

"Paying . . . . funny that you mention it . . . how much does he pay you, if I may ask?"

"Mr.Bray . . . I believe that's between me and Michael"

He gets up . . . rather angry, giving me a serious look. "Between you and Michael . . you know what that sounds like to me? . . . call me crazy but this doesn't sound very professional to me"

"Excuse me?"

"I get paid for protecting Michael . . . what do you get paid for, dear Misses Miller?"

"I get paid for being Michael's therapist"

"Then why are you here? . . what are you here for? . . . you came to the hospital and you now came to the reheasal too . . . . what for? . . . Michael doesn't need to talk about his innermost feelings and issues when he's rehearsing on stage"

"I'm here because Michael wanted me to be here . . . . I did not invite myself and by the way . . why do I feel like I'm in a court room? . . . you're his bodyguard and I'm his therapist . . . aren't we in the same boat?"

Bill laughs.

"In the same boat? . . . do you even know who you are talking to?"

"Yes, you're Bill Bray . . I know who I'm talking to"

"I'm not just Michael's bodyguard, I'm his friend and companion"

"There you go, Mr. Bray . . . I'm Michael's therapist and friend and companion!"

He sits back down, rubbing his forehead. "Okay . . I see that I have to use different words to let you know what I really mean by what I'm trying to tell you . . . I'm his bodyguard . . . and I feel like I have to protect Michael from you!"

My heart skips a beat . . . and a second . . and a third . . . I take a deep breath to gather myself from what I just heard. . . . he wants to protect Michael from me? . . what is this man even talking about? . . is he kidding me? I don't even know why he's saying all this. . this makes no sense to me.

"Protect Michael from me? . . . I really have no idea what you are talking about and WHY you're saying it . . . I'm NOT a fan in disguise . . I'm a therapist . . . I'm Mchael Jackson's therapist! . . what you are saying is beyond rude and not acceptable in any way! I don't deserve you talking to me like that!"

"Misses Miller . . . I'm here for Michael's safety!"

"What do you want to protect him from? I'm his therapist, good god!"

"I know a danger to Michael when I see one"

"You know what Mr.Bray? . . . I believe that you need to take a good look at yourself in the mirror! The way you're protecting Michael is not good for him! . . you're not letting him breathe! . . . he's got enough going on with the fans, the media, the press the concerts, the tours . . . . why on earth would he need someone to put up walls around him when he feels lonely enough already?!!!"

I say in a loud voice and leave the dressing room . . . . I hear him walking behind me.

"Misses Miller!"

"I have nothing more to say, I'm sorry!"

"Misses Miller! . . I wanna continue talking to you!"

"I'm done talking!"

Michael sees me, right as I'm coming around the corner. "I'm sorry Michael, I have to leave" I say, not even looking at him. "Megan? . . . what? . . why? . . why are you leaving?"

"You may ask your bodyguard that question" I say, turning around, walking backwards, looking at Bill.




To be continued . . .