Are You Open To It?

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Michael Jackson's Point of View

My slippers squeak against the floor as I run through the house, with a smile on my face and a pillow snug between my palms.


"I demand an explanation!" Cheyenne pants as she gallops down the staircase. "Lionel," she scolds with an arm flailing in the air. "You're better than this, making a woman run and pillow fight two grown men!" She throws the final throw pillow over the stairs, grazing my backside. I continue my high-pitched laughter that soon grabs Melina's attention.


"You're the baby in the house!" Lionel retaliates, before seeking refuge behind the wall adjacent to the staircase.


Melina steps out of the kitchen and stares at the pandemonium with great confusion. To my surprise, her smile remains at the sight of Cheyenne. "What is going on? Michael... Are you guys.." she lets out a single laugh. "Pillow fighting?" Her accent brakes as her giggles interrupt her sentences.


With a hand on her hip, a smirk and a playful glare directed at me, Cheyenne answers. "Yea, Michael here," she points towards my shaking body. "Won't give me a straight answer."


Melina's eyes darken, and I begin to signal Cheyenne to stop speaking, but she doesn't see. "I'm sorry," the r's roll bitterly off her tongue. "I didn't know you knew Michael so well that you can actually speak for him."


Cheyenne's once playful mood dulls right down, and she makes harsh steps towards her. "See..," her voice crescendos. "I don't know why you have a problem with me, but you better calm yourself down."


Lionel instinctively makes his way between the two, but it doesn't stop them from gradually coming closer together. I place my palms over my eyes at the tension, knowing Melina is going to say some things she shouldn't out of anger, very soon.


"Or what? home-wrecker?" Melina devilishly smirks.


"Melina!" I scold firmly. "This is not the place, you're a full grown woman. Don't lower yourself to this." Melina immediately steps back at the end of my sentences and from what I can tell, even prepares an apology for her actions.


"No, no. Tell me what gives you the right to call me that?" Cheyenne's voice cracks and you can almost visibly see the knot in her stomach form.


Melina's eyes set like daggers in Cheyenne's flesh. "Maybe the fact that your beloved Frankie is my soon to be son in law gives me the right" her voice spits bitterly.


Cheyenne looks shocked at the revelation, as does Lionel. Cheyenne's eyes begin to well, and her throat seizes at the embarrassment. "You don't know him," she makes a b-line towards the door, and I thank god for her choosing to do so. "None of you," she directs to us all. "None of you actually know Frankie. So go on and keep judging me while you remain blind to all this shit!" Her arms flail after she pushes the door open- with force.


"Cry baby," Melina speaks under her breath before returning to the kitchen. My anger towards her forces me to disregard her newest actions and focus on where Cheyenne is heading off to.

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