The Boss (A Michael Jackson FanFiction)

The Boss..33..

As I slowly regain consciousness, I hear a steady, monotonous, beeping surrounding me.

It continues as I slowly open my eyes, sighing a silent, "Ow."

I finish opening my eyes as much as I can and find myself staring at a very tacky white ceiling with fluorescent lights.

Those lights are not on, but a dim lamp light or a TV is on somewhere in this room.

Where the hell am I?

I turn to my right and through the window I see the skyline of some city.

After recognizing the skyline, I turn to my left and notice someone is asleep near me.

I frown from realization because it's Michael.

What is he doing here?

I look around the room then at the beeping monitor next to me.

Am I in a hospital?

I try to sit up next, but get dizzy and give up.

Yeah, I'm in a hospital. I concur as I stare at the IV in my arm. But why?

"Michael?" I ask in a raspy voice. My voice seems to be shot. Was I screaming before I came here or have I just not talked for a while? "Michael?" I call again. He stirs but he doesn't open his eyes. "Michael!?"

His eyes flutter behind his lids.

And I continue calling his name until his eyes finally open.

Once his eyes focus solely on me, they widen and he stares at me like I'm the most beautiful sight to behold.

"Michael, are you awake?" I ask, stupidly. My voice is clearer now.

"Hey, you, and, yes, I am." He smiles before taking a deep breath in. "How long have you been awake?"

"I just woke up." I answer as he stretches deeply. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital." He answers with a frown.

"Why?" I ask, genuinely, because I can't remember.

"You don't remember?" He asks, frowning curiously, as he scoots to the edge of the chair.

"Umm, no," I clear my throat and my voice is stronger. "Do you know what happened to me?"

"No. I don't know," Michael shrugs as he stands then walks to my bedside. "I came by your apartment because you weren't answering my calls and I found you on the floor."

Instinctively, I touch the back of my head and mutter. "Someone hit me. I remember now."

Michael arches a brow then his brows furrow as he asks. "Somebody hit you? Did you see who it was?"

"No," I rub my head and stare into space. "they hit me over the head from behind."

"Motherfucker." Michael grits, blowing air from his nose. He looks at me the next moment and brushes my hair behind my ear. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, sweetheart."

The loving look he's giving me is making me uneasy.

So, of course, I change the subject.

"Who brought me here?" I clear my throat as I look away from his eyes.

"I did." He answers and I smile a little. He touches my leg and it makes me look him in his eyes as he continues. "My heart practically stopped in my chest when I found you on that floor, Tamera, but I sprung into action and brought you here as fast as I could. The doctors said that was a good thing."