Fly Away (Michael Jackson)

eleven

"The paps are outside," Michael moved the curtain to see the mass of people outside the gates of his home, waiting for some type of comment from anyone. 

We arrived back to the house as quickly as possible, before news spread throughout multiple media outlets. At that point, his family had just began to wake up for the day, not knowing of any of the accusations. We broke the news to them together before anyone or anything else could. They seemed to be more annoyed than upset. Seems like an everyday occurrence. However, Michael seemed more stressed out about this than his family was. 

The good news is, Michael won't actually get in trouble; Greg went to the media; not the police. That's already a red flag for people everywhere; at least it should be. Anyway, someone's going down there to talk to them. It would be too dangerous for Michael himself to talk to them, he'll get attacked. His publicist has already arrived and is going over his statement with Michael and preparing it. His publicist has proposed the idea that me being with them could stop the potential rumor dead in its tracks, but could also add fuel to the fire and make it look like I was trained to say certain things if media intervened. They were going over and toying with the idea to contemplate the best outcome. In my head, I'm slightly afraid to be in a huge spotlight, in front of cameras and microphones; I could potentially mess everything up if I say the wrong thing. It's a lot of pressure for someone who is not accustomed to this lifestyle.

They came back to the den where I and the rest of the family sat in anxious states about what to do next. The publicist came towards me first, then helped me stand up. "Miss Williams," he cleared his throat, "We feel that with the proper words, we can shift this narrative and its perception back into the right light, with your help. I have here a couple of words for you to say, proving that every decision was consented and no one was kidnapped," he laughed at the ridiculousness that was the accusation. "I deal with this all the time, just follow my lead, alright?"

I nodded in acknowledgement and took some deep breaths before walking outside. I suddenly felt a warm touch around my shoulder, "It's going to be okay," Michael softly reassured with a gentle smile.

"Nothing to worry about," I told myself. I turned and gave the 'OK' to the publicist, and we opened the door to a sudden sound of people yelling and screaming and pushing to the front of the gate, which was down the road about 300 feet away. We walked down, giving enough time for the news outlets to start recording and turn on their mics. The publicist took the first step towards the crowd with me only a short distance behind him. Trying not to make eye contact with any of them.

"Good morning," He made the crowd quiet with his greeting. "I know you all are wondering about the stories, and accusations," he softly mentioned. He was listened to, by a quiet audience. But as he came to that last syllable, he was flooded with outrageous questions; making everything loud. Questions about who I was, why I was there.

"Recent reports of Michael kidnapping someone's girlfriend are false and ignorant," He smiled. "As a matter of fact, I have said girl right here," He turned to me and brought me to his side. The uproar of questions once again returned at a higher volume.

One reporter yelled, "How can you verify this statement?"

"She's here." he turned around and called me. "Bonnie, if you would,"

I took steps towards the gate and smiled a small embarrassing smile, "Hello, my name is Bonnie Williams and what you heard from my now estranged ex-boyfriend, is not true." I looked back at my notes to continue my speech. "Michael and I have been friends for years and I left home to catch up with him. It was completely consented and I have personal reasons for leaving my home with my personal belongings."

They all swarmed me with questions and shoved their recorders through the bars of the fence. The publicist stepped in front of me and nodded his head, "We're done here. Now if you could give the Jacksons the privacy they deserve in their own home, that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you." He walked me back into the house, ignoring the yells of the fans and name calling from reporters and paparazzi.

"Just like that?" I asked him quietly.

He smiled in satisfaction, "You did perfect, Miss Williams."

The door was opened discreetly and we both snuck in. I took a breath of relief when I walked in and saw everyone more relaxed than before. Michael was still sitting by the window and looking down at his fingers with a sad expression. As a friend I had to go over there and comfort him. Before I could make my way to him, his publicist took his elbow and walked him into another room. They talked for half an hour and no one noticed that they had been gone. The rest of the family remained in the living room returning to their normal daily routines as if this was a normal day. To be fair, they've had time to adjust to this; whereas this was my first "press conference".

The feeling was definitely scary. I know how they can twist up your words and use them out of context; so I was careful about what I said. The publicist even said I did perfect. That's a good sign I guess. I sat on the sofa with the rest of the brothers and sisters and made small talk with Janet, who I assume talked with Jermaine, as she made no comments about my relationship with Michael. 

Suddenly a door opened from upstairs and the creaking sound of the hinges brought everyone's chatter to a stop. Michael and his publicist walked out and made their way back down the stairs, his publicist making an exit for the back door and Michael coming over and sitting with all of us. He waited a couple moments for the others to return back into their normal conversations and chit chat before looking up at me and calling me over to him. I got up and he whispered in my ear that he needed to share some information with me.

We walked into the loft a couple rooms away from the living room where we left everyone else. He took my hands and sat me down next to him, then looked at me and said, "Bonnie, Jim and I were talking and he just has some things he would like me to share with you." He paused and looked at the ground, "Now with everything going around about kidnapping and that brief press conference you had out there; he thinks that you should stay with me, here." Michael looked up at me and waited for my facial expression to show my reaction to the news.

I cleared my throat and furrowed my eyebrows, "I-I don't understand, why what happened? He said I did perfect out there?"

"He has a good point. He said that if you came and disappeared and returned to Gary after this all blows over, they're going to assume that we hired a random person for press coverage to cover it all up." He shook his head, "I know it's ridiculous but; the media can really tear someone down with their words."

I sighed, "So I basically have to stay here with you because your life would otherwise be ruined?" I asked for confirmation.

He nodded, almost ashamed. I think he felt like he was asking so much of me and was embarrassed about it. But the truth is that I don't want to separate from him ever again. I lost him once to the fame world and I won't lose him again. Not now that he's reaching super stardom. If I leave now, there's a chance that I would never get in contact with him again.

I smiled and gripped Michael's hands, "It's okay. Anything to help you, I owe you."

He smiled with a look of surprise, then guilt, "You don't have to do this, I don't want you to feel like we are using you,"

"I'm not losing you again." I reassured with a firm grip on his arm.

Michael chuckled and gave me a tight hug. As he held me and my chin rest on his shoulder, I sighed and looked down at the ground, thinking about how he probably wouldn't think of me anymore as a friend. I don't know why this thought came into my head, but something in me lost hope that I would ever be anything more than just a friend in his eyes.