Michael Jackson Imagines

Off Limits (Part 3)

Annoyed is an understatement to what I am feeling at this moment. Well, let me rewind the last three hellish hours. Of course, Ella sent me out to the bakery to pick up the cake, which I didn't mind doing. I check the cake like she asks me to, and everything looked amazing. It's a two-layer cake. The top part of the cake is shaped like a gold crown, sitting on a black pillow accompanied next to a gold staff. "Happy Birthday, Michael" is in gold lettering. It's very beautiful. I drop the cake off, to head back home to dress for the party a little later.

I can barely make it out the shower when I check my phone to the bombard of text messages...All of them from Ella. And she is livid. Apparently, they gave her the wrong cake on the inside. She wanted chocolate, but they gave her yellow. Though, I specifically remember her ordering yellow cake when we were out the other day. And me trying to tell her that, only resulted to her arguing that, that wasn't the case. I decide to let it go, and say it was a misunderstanding on their part. She finally calms down and leaves it be...

By the time I get into hair and makeup, I get another call. This time, she's spazzing over it not being an equal amount of each balloon color. "What the hell am I supposed to do with all these damn gold balloons!?" She bellowed into the phone. It took everything in me to refrain from telling her she can take those damn balloons and shove them. I know I distributed a decent amount of each color like she requested. I'm learning that if telling the truth doesn't work in Ella's favor, there will be hell to pay. I calmly explained how I produced the amount she asked me to, only for her to yell into the phone how I was making this very difficult for her, and Ella hanging up on me shortly after.

By the time I get into my cocktail dress, I already don't feel like going to this damn party. The only reason why I'm still going, is because I promised Ella I would help her with setting up gifts. I call Ethan to give him directions to the party, seeing he'll be coming by once he leaves his job. He's been excited about this whole thing since I let him know a few days prior. "As long as I get to spend time with you, that's all that matters." No sooner, than I place my phone down, I get another call from...(you guessed it), Ella. I roll my eyes upon answering it.

I hear a crowd of people in the background, obviously from the party. I then hear the music, which lets me know the DJ has arrived, so that's not the problem. What could it possibly be?

"What's the problem?" I ask, as preparing to head out the door.

She breathes into the phone. I hear the frustration in her voice, and it makes me anxious.

"I gave you simple directions, and you did not listen to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"The painting! It's ruined because of you."

What the hell is she talking about? When I left today, the painting was perfectly intact, laying against the wall in the den area. We both saw that. I suggested to help her wrap it, but she insisted to do it, because she "wanted it to be perfect."

"I don't understand."

"Of course, you don't. Allow me to help you understand."

I don't know how much more of her shitty behavior I can tolerate...

"I told you to place the painting down, gently! Let me repeat that, gently! Why when I get ready to wrap it, I see it's been chipped on the side. And it was on the side you were holding!"

I swear on everything that is holy, that painting was not chipped before I left it. I checked thoroughly.

"Ella, I swear I didn't chip your painting."

I know this will cause some friction, but I refuse to take the blame for anything else.

"You were holding the painting, how the hell did you not chip it? Thanks to you, Michael's gift is ruined."