"Michael, I know we have to go food shopping, but I'd rather go than you.. people will recognize you! Especially if you wanna go like THIS.. YOURSELF!!"

I roll my eyes and sigh, listening to Y/N nag about me going out for the 900 billionth time already.

It's been a month since we got here and I haven't been allowed out ONCE this whole time.. I want to live like a regular person WITHOUT being trapped in this damn house all day like I was before since I bought Neverland..

But then I forgot.. I'm dead. I can't go out because I could face EVEN MORE legal issues, except this time I could really go to jail.. either that or will find me..

Ugh.. don't remind me about that, just posses me off more.

It's my fault anyways, I should be used to that already right..??

I stand up and slam my hands down in anger on the table, totally ignoring the fact that Y/N is nagging me still.

I see her jump back away a little

I huff quietly, trying not to lash out, black out, or break anything.. I do have a temper and my brothers and I get it from my damn father. I hate it, but my mother taught me to focus and breathe slowly to calm down.

I look up at Y/N and see that she's shaking. She's scared of me.. great.

Nobody ever got to see me angry like this except my bodyguards when I had a breakdown about the tabloids.. And I blacked out, and broke Bill's phone on accident.. but that was the old me, when I vented in private and had no control of my anger.

I suck my teeth then sigh, feeling guilty.

"Y/N I'm sorry.. sometimes I have really bad temper... I'll try to control it. But I WANT to go out, you had me cooped up in this house for a whole month. This house isn't Neverland, the backyard is very small so I can't even go out and walk around.. WE DON'T EVEN HAVE A POOL OR GATES FOR PRIVACY--"

I bite my lip hard and turn around to make myself calm down,realizing I was getting myself angrier, and Y/N more afraid of me by yelling. She never heard or saw me get angry.

"Y/N.. I'm a grown man, I can make my own decisions, I want to get out. It's the only thing I've been asking you for, I'd like to go baby shopping with you but you forbid me to do that because we're both-- I'm easily recognizable.. The least you can do is AT LEAST let me drive our car around.."

Silence.

Too much silence.

Not even a response actually.

I turn around and Y/N isn't even there.. must've scared her off. It's fine for now, I'll apologize later.. Now's the time to take the opportunity I might not have later.

I put on my casual shoes and part my hair, combing through it with the red comb I always have on me then grab the keys and go out.

I open the front door, doing a little victory dance on the doormat before strutting to the car. A silver Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows.

I jump in the car and hum to myself happily before putting the key in the ignition.

"Hm.. what song today Michael??" I chuckle talking to myself, putting the aux chord into my iPhone.

I dunno how to even work this thing but I remember my body guards taught me how to, it was their Christmas present to me since I just had a flip phone that was for business calls but they wanted me to be up to date with technology.

I go to my music and put on My Prerogative by Bobby Brown, it's my favorite song after all.

I put my seatbelt on along with my cap, and Rayban sun glasses, singing loudly with the song as I ride to the store (which is far from our house)

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

I sit in the bedroom sobbing until I hear our car door close from our garage and the beginning of My Prerogative play, I immediately stop everything in doing and grab my pair of car keys.

I run downstairs as fast as I could, almost tripping falling down the stairway multiple times, then jump down the rest of the way down the stairs.

"This fucker.." I grit my teeth knowing EXACTLY what's going to happen.

I look out one of the windows and see Michael riding off the property with the Escalade and I suck my teeth, then growl angrily.

I run outside,locking the door quickly and the key gets stuck in the door

"God..FUCKING KEY--"

I pull back to get the key out and after a couple times I fall back and land on my butt.

"Owww..shit..." I get up and run to my car, a black 86 Camaro

*(The first car my mom had,

but silver ;D -Author)*

I put the key in the ignition and quickly drive off to tail Michael.

Soon enough I spot a black Escalade three cars in front of me, playing My Prerogative. Yup.. that's him.

I'm still tailing behind Michael, we make it to a tall building.

Michael parks in the shade, and I park in the back of the parking lot so he doesn't see my car.

I see him walk in and I quietly follow, putting my sunglasses on and my hair in a ponytail in the back of my cap.

He..

Why did he go here....???

A mall..

I face palm and groan, quietly stalking him within the crowd.

Michael exits the mall and I sigh in relief then quickly run outside to go to my car. I start my car again, talking off my little disguise and then start to drive away past Michael's car in the back of the building.

Then I see it.. the one thing I dread the most, coming from the corner of my eye.

I flash.

A camera flash.

I immediately slam on my breaks and put the car in park, getting out of my car as fast as I could.

I see Michael cover his face and rub his eyes from the flash.

I scream to him, my voice getting deep when I yell:

"GET THE FUCK IN THE CAR AND DRIVE! NOW!!"

Michael jumps and immediately does what I told him to do.

I knee the photographer as hard as I can in the balls, snatching his camera as he falls down.

He groans and looks up at me and says in a raspy smoker like voice

"What the fuck is your problem lady..?!"

Thank god my sunglasses are on so he doesn't know who I am.. I just look like a regular blonde chick with short hair with ray bans to him, but I'm actually Michael's fiancé...widow.. Fidow... yea, something like that.

I flip my hair out of my face before responding in a deep voice

"A lot..a lot, SIR.."

I lean down, putting the camera down behind me before grabbing the man by the collar and pulling him up to me.

"I'm Fabio's female bodyguard.. he wants no pictures or paparazzi while on vacation.."

The man looks at me with a confused look

"He's a Michael Jackson impersonator, leave.. him..alone.."

"No it's not, it's W.."

Don't say it..

"-acko.."

Don't..

"Jacko--"

I slap the dickfaced photographer straight into next weekend, making him probably get whiplash and making him pass out from how hard I slapped him.

I quickly run to my car with the camera and go through it, finding the picture of Michael..

And deleting it.

I throw the camera in front of the knocked out photographer and speed off before anyone sees, and before he wakes up.

Once I get home I park the car and go inside, to the bedroom. I hear the shower running and distant sobbing from the bathroom.

I feel my heart shatter a bit but also feel like I should give him the old "I told you so" speech. But he wouldn't want to hear it, I don't want to hurt him more.

I quietly go in and squint my eyes and try to make my way through the very steamy and foggy bathroom.

Michael always took super hot showers to help him de-stress since he didn't know any other way to do so, before it was dancing (but then that got exhausting for him), then he got his nose done more, then his lips and eyebrows tattooed, along with other things as a form of self harm I guess..since his coping mechanisms from before didn't work.

I make it to the bathtub and put my hand on his shoulder, sitting on the cold floor, the only thing cool in this hot room.

I feel Michael jump and turn away on his side like he was laying in the bed..

"Leave me alone.."

I frown at what he says and try to turn him, but he won't budge.

"LEAVE ME ALONE Y/N...."

Michael raises his voice a bit, clearly trying to hide that he's crying.

I look down sadly and try to talk to him quietly

"I just wanted to say I--"

Michael turns to me with an angry and scary facial expression

"LEAVE."

I tear up a bit and sniffle, getting up and leaving the bathroom like Michael told me to before I made him more angry.

I get my grey pajama shorts and pink sports bra out and get ready for bed..

Michael didn't get out of the bathroom for another 2 hours.

With no word said to me, he threw his clothes from today in the luaundry hamper, looked at me with his puffy and red eyes, then walked out.

He slept in the guest room that night.