Later that night, Michael sat alone in his living room at the newly crisened Neverland Valley Ranch. He sat thinking in front of the fire, tracing a long finger lazily around the rim of his wine glass. Actually, he wasn't getting much thinking done at all. The only thought he'd been able to entertain was his and Mark's scene earlier.
Michael had come home and, after dinner, promptly attacked the wine cellar. He was not upset with himself for behaving the way he had, but he did want to calm down. He kept anaylizing everything that had happened and was expecting himself to find fault with something, but he couldn't. It had felt right. It had felt good. And Michael wanted more.
He watched the fire dance and entertwine as he took another sip of his cabernet. He could see his and Mark's bodies in the flames and it made him ache and crave for more passion.
Mark had simply left at the end of the day with a guilty nod at Michael. They hadn't spoken a word since their little love mess. Mark seemed to understand that he was not quite fired, which was good, because Michael felt he had swallowed his tongue. There was business to be dealt with so the subject - their subject - had not presented itself.
Michael sipped again. It was 10:30. Could he just...call Mark? Right. Then what would he say? Michael looked at the phone sitting on the cushion next to him and pulled his feet away, eyes wide, as though it might get him. Then he sat his glass down.
"I should just be myself. Just follow my heart and be myself." Michael furrowed his brow and bit his lip. That was sure to go over pretty kookie. "Hmf." Michael stood and tightened his maroon bathrobe. Then he stretched and scratched a bit. Perhaps he just needed to let this sit for a while. He was just thinking of digging through some boxes of videos when the phone rang.
Michael quickly approached the cordless. He held his breath and read the ID log: Mark J. Deaver.
Michael whooped and punched the air nearly dropping the phone in the process. Then he meekly answered, "hello?"
"Yeah, hi Michael, it's Mark. I'm sorry to call so late, but I left some papers at the ranch that I really need." He said all of this very fast.
"Oh...well - ." Michael didn't know what to say.
"Could I swing by and pick those up?"
"Um, yeah...yeah, sure."
"Thank you. Did you let security go already? Will you just buzz me in?"
"Yes, they leave at ten. Wait. What do you mean 'buzz you in'?"
"The...the keypad Michael - at the front door. You know, you type in the code...to open all the...gates." Mark realised that poor Michael didn't have a clue what he was talking about.
"Oh. I, umm, what code is that?"
"Michael, man I'm glad I got your ass covered. You mean to tell me you're locked up in there - no way out or back in?" Mark was laughing at the absurdity.
"Well, I guess never thought about it. Where would I go?," he asked genuinly.
"When I scan my ID at the front gate you'll hear a tone so then you go to the keypad at the front door and punch in the code. Got it?"
"Okay."
"By the way, the code is on the sticky note in your office on the computer monitor."
"Oh, okay. I thought that was the number for take-out." They hung up. Michael was excited, yet perturbed. Mark was coming back, but not for what he had hoped for. Michael picked up his glass and padded across the creaking wood floors up to his office. "Hmf, no wonder I never get any Chinese food."
Michael had come home and, after dinner, promptly attacked the wine cellar. He was not upset with himself for behaving the way he had, but he did want to calm down. He kept anaylizing everything that had happened and was expecting himself to find fault with something, but he couldn't. It had felt right. It had felt good. And Michael wanted more.
He watched the fire dance and entertwine as he took another sip of his cabernet. He could see his and Mark's bodies in the flames and it made him ache and crave for more passion.
Mark had simply left at the end of the day with a guilty nod at Michael. They hadn't spoken a word since their little love mess. Mark seemed to understand that he was not quite fired, which was good, because Michael felt he had swallowed his tongue. There was business to be dealt with so the subject - their subject - had not presented itself.
Michael sipped again. It was 10:30. Could he just...call Mark? Right. Then what would he say? Michael looked at the phone sitting on the cushion next to him and pulled his feet away, eyes wide, as though it might get him. Then he sat his glass down.
"I should just be myself. Just follow my heart and be myself." Michael furrowed his brow and bit his lip. That was sure to go over pretty kookie. "Hmf." Michael stood and tightened his maroon bathrobe. Then he stretched and scratched a bit. Perhaps he just needed to let this sit for a while. He was just thinking of digging through some boxes of videos when the phone rang.
Michael quickly approached the cordless. He held his breath and read the ID log: Mark J. Deaver.
Michael whooped and punched the air nearly dropping the phone in the process. Then he meekly answered, "hello?"
"Yeah, hi Michael, it's Mark. I'm sorry to call so late, but I left some papers at the ranch that I really need." He said all of this very fast.
"Oh...well - ." Michael didn't know what to say.
"Could I swing by and pick those up?"
"Um, yeah...yeah, sure."
"Thank you. Did you let security go already? Will you just buzz me in?"
"Yes, they leave at ten. Wait. What do you mean 'buzz you in'?"
"The...the keypad Michael - at the front door. You know, you type in the code...to open all the...gates." Mark realised that poor Michael didn't have a clue what he was talking about.
"Oh. I, umm, what code is that?"
"Michael, man I'm glad I got your ass covered. You mean to tell me you're locked up in there - no way out or back in?" Mark was laughing at the absurdity.
"Well, I guess never thought about it. Where would I go?," he asked genuinly.
"When I scan my ID at the front gate you'll hear a tone so then you go to the keypad at the front door and punch in the code. Got it?"
"Okay."
"By the way, the code is on the sticky note in your office on the computer monitor."
"Oh, okay. I thought that was the number for take-out." They hung up. Michael was excited, yet perturbed. Mark was coming back, but not for what he had hoped for. Michael picked up his glass and padded across the creaking wood floors up to his office. "Hmf, no wonder I never get any Chinese food."
The next day Michael was still pissed off from lastnight what happen with Tatiana but he couldn't be more pissed then ever. Michael love Tatiana soo much but she was a bitch for cheating on him. But Michael just put that aside for now he had to go to work so he put his clothes on for today. Michael went to work late it was 7:00 so he walk in and he said " sorry guys that I was late the bus was late" (everyone look at him crazy) Michael said " what get the hell to work" (everyone just did what he said) then they took a 5 mins break and went to work and then everybody left exself for Michael he just wanted to know why would Tatiana cheat on him like that??? What did he do to her? then Michael put that aside 2 and left and went home. Michael start to cry and fellsleep. Thinking about Taitana. To be Contuine.. Hope u like it!!! :) sorry if its short again :( but still hope u like it :)
The Michael Jackson estate is tired of waiting for Lloyd's of London to pay out on the $17.5 million "This Is it" insurance policy -- so they're going after Lloyd's in court ... demanding they pay up, stat.
Lloyd's of London originally issued the policy to cover potential losses for MJ's 2009 "This Is It" concerts -- but earlier this year, the company asked an L.A. court to declare the policy null and void ... claiming MJ lied about his medical history and drug addiction.
Lloyd's insists the policy "was restricted to losses resulting from accident only" -- pointing out Michael's official cause of death was "homicide."
But the estate is now on the offensive -- filing a cross-complaint, claiming MJ never intended to die, whether by homicide or not, so his death still qualifies as an accident.
But the estate isn't just settling for the original $17.5 million -- they also want punitive damages. FYI, suing for punitive damages often scares the crap out of insurance companies.
Lloyd's of London originally issued the policy to cover potential losses for MJ's 2009 "This Is It" concerts -- but earlier this year, the company asked an L.A. court to declare the policy null and void ... claiming MJ lied about his medical history and drug addiction.
Lloyd's insists the policy "was restricted to losses resulting from accident only" -- pointing out Michael's official cause of death was "homicide."
But the estate is now on the offensive -- filing a cross-complaint, claiming MJ never intended to die, whether by homicide or not, so his death still qualifies as an accident.
But the estate isn't just settling for the original $17.5 million -- they also want punitive damages. FYI, suing for punitive damages often scares the crap out of insurance companies.