Call Me Eliza

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(I know that it'll be three years tomorrow since Michael... Left us. So in his honor, I'm posting TWO new stories! This one, and another one which you will see coming in a few minutes. Just like to say that Michael, I miss you like crazy, and I wish that you were still here. Thankfully, your legacy will love on for many years to come. Not only that, but you'll always have my heart. It beats for you whether you hear it or not. Much love Mikey <3)

London, England: June 16, 1984

I stared out my bedroom window blankly, arms perched on my window sill.

Tonight is my father's birthday, and he is having a party that I am forced to attend. Don't get me wrong, I love him dearly, it's the actually celebration part that I'm not extremely fond of. Dances, raves, clubs, bars..... Anything except house parties. There are always so many people, who most of the time, are dead drunk by the time the night is over. Also, I don't like the idea of hundreds of strangers running around the house, touching, messing with, and breaking things that aren't theirs. It's barbaric. That's why I try my best to stay away from house parties as much as possible.

But tonight I'm not aloud to miss it, no matter how badly I'd like to. I love my father too much to disappoint him in such a way.

Although I'd rather stay in my room all night, there is one upside about having to go to the party. My best friend, Anya, was invited too. So I guess it shouldn't be too bad with her by my side....

Suddenly, there was a soft, but rapid knock on one of the double bedroom doors. Without bothering to look, I called for them to enter.

My squeaky door was swung open and shut quickly. Whoever the person was walked across the wooden floor and made their way over to my bed, sitting down noisily.

"Are you almost ready, Eliza?" Said my father. I glanced over my shoulder and exhaled, "yeah. As ready as I'll ever be, I guess...." I trailed off. He chuckled, outstretching his arms towards me. I cracked a small smile and stood up, moving over to my bed as well. When I was within a yards distance, he pat his leg, encouraging me to sit. I gave him a skeptical look, but didn't question him. I quickly sat down on his lap, resting my head against his shoulder.

"You look wonderful," he whispered into my ear. I could tell that he was smiling.

I scoffed, "as my parent, you're obligated to say that."

He laughed and stroked my hair, "just because I have to say something, doens't mean that I don't mean it," he said softly. I sighed, knowing that he was going to win this argument, "well in that case, thanks," I said softly.

There was a long pause, then suddenly, I heard the familiar roar of the engine coming from Anya's Volvo, peeling into our driveway. I raised my head, knowing that she'd be up soon. I looked at my dad pleadingly, he soon got the message.

"Oh, I get it. You want your old man out so you can talk about girl stuff, right?" He said, imitating a teen's voice. I laughed, "yeah, something like that..."

He lifted me up and placed me back down next to him on a pillow. He patted my dress-covered leg before rising up and walking towards my door. His hand was on the handle when all of the sudden, he spun back around and pointed at me.

"Remind me to introduce you to my friend tonight. I'm going to be spending some time in the studio with him soon, and I'd like you to know who I'm with," he said, smiling widely.

Confusion hit me like a dodge ball, "...Why are you smiling like that?" I asked him cautiously.

"Like what?"

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