“What was it like? How did he smell?”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“Was his pants as magnificent up close as in the pictures?”
The questions hit me like a tornado and I was in the eye of the storm when we gathered at a bar after the show. I answered all the questions, but kept certain things to myself.
“So did you slip him your number? Was that what you were doing right before you left the stage?”
I almost told the truth, but for some reason I didn’t want to say anything. If he did call, I would tell them. But if he didn’t, I would hate it if everyone was like “I told you so!”, so I kept that info to myself. I simply said: “No… I just wanted to touch him one last time.”
As the night flew by I kept eyeing my cell phone, but no one called. I had it set on vibrate and almost jumped, spilling my drink, when I felt movement in my pocket. To my disappointment it was my mother calling to ask about the show. As most mothers, she just wouldn’t shut up even though I tried ending the conversation in a polite manner. I was afraid to miss Michael’s call and she just went on and on, so I finally had to tell her my phone was running low on battery and then I hung up. I did feel bad because she only wanted to make sure I had a good time, but the only thing filling my mind at that time was Michael’s huge bulge. My small alcohol intake didn’t help and I started feeling hot all over, thinking back to what happened a few hours ago. I was starting to regret not having grabbed his magnificent ass or at least tried to kiss him on the lips. I was never going to be given that opportunity again and him calling me seemed almost ridiculous now.
But just when I started scolding myself for not being more aggressive on stage and not seizing the moment 100%, I felt a buzz between my legs. It was a nice feeling and I didn’t want it to stop and a lazy smile crept across my face.
“Hey, what’s with the weird facial expression?” Pia asked.
I leaned in and whispered. “I was thinking of Michael and now I have a tingling feeling between my legs. It feels so real!” I giggled.
She looked over at me and rolled her eyes. “It’s your phone, sweety!”
Apparently I had placed my phone in my lap and forgotten about it. My heart jumped and I quickly picked it up. The screen said ‘unknown caller ID’ and my heart began beating fast. I cleared my throat and swallowed before I pressed the receiver button.
“Hallo?”
There was a silence, so I repeated my hello. Finally someone spoke.
The voice was low, but it sounded familiar. “Uhm hi… It’s..” the person cleared his throat and continued. “It’s Michael….Jackson.”
I was glad my friends were occupied with something else because I looked like I had just seen a ghost. I had no idea what to say. It’s not like I expected the guy to call me. Hoping? Yes! Expecting? No! I had not even thought about what to say in case the impossible became possible.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
I shook my head to get myself back on track. “Yes, I’m here. Sorry… I was just, well, surprised.”
“Am I disturbing you? I know it’s late.”
I looked at my watch and it said . “No no, it’s fine. I’m just out with some friends. So…like… What are you doing?”
I tried sounding normal, but for some reason I didn’t think I did very well.
“I’m just sitting here. Couldn’t sleep. Too much adrenaline, you know, too much excitement.”
I was lingering at the sound of his voice playing in my ear and almost forgot to answer.
“Oh….yeah. I can imagine. So like…. Uhm.”
“So like…uhm” was that the best I could do? What I really wanted to ask him was “will you marry me?” but I figured that was moving a little too fast.
“So the reason I called was to uhm ask you if you, you know, possibly wanted to….”
Deafening silence followed and I automatically held my breath.
“You know, if you wanted to, I don’t know, come over? But off course you’re with your friends, so…”
“They’re not important!” I quickly answered. “I mean, they are, but… I would love to come over. Where’s ‘over’?”
“Well, it’s a bit far. I’m in L.A”
Had I not had anything to drink and had I not been totally dumbfounded by his call, I could have figured out that there was no way he could have made it back to L.A since the concert ended just around 5 hours ago.
“Oh, well I don’t really have the money to go to L.A right now,” I said, sounding really disappointed.
“Hee hee, I’m just kidding. I’m at hotel…uhm…Dangle Terrie?” He tried pronouncing the name correctly and failed miserably.
“You mean Hotel D’Angleterre?” I said and laughed and I could hear he did the same.
“Yes exactly. So, how about it?”
“I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”
“Good. I’ll let my people know. Bye.” Before I could say anything, he had hung up the phone.
I quickly stood up from the table and as a result my chair fell over, bringing my friends attention towards me.
“Hey, where are you going?” Suzanne wanted to know.
“What do you mean? I’m not going!” I argued.
“You’re putting on your jacket!” she continued.
I looked from one friend to another, trying to think of a good excuse.
“Oh, right… Yeah, I’m just reeeally drunk, you know.” I made a drunken expression, but I’m pretty sure I just came of looking like Sylvester Stallone on a bad day.
“You had two drinks. Since when does that make you drunk?” Birgit grilled me.
Damn!
“I just got my period!” Ha, they couldn’t argue with that one.
“So which one is it? Drunk or period?”
I couldn’t think of a better response so I just said: “Yes!”
My friends looked confused now. I sighed, “Ok, the truth is I’m going to see Michael Jackson. He just called me.”
They stared at me in disbelief but then they all burst out laughing. “Ha ha ha, yeah right sweety! You better get your drunken ass home to bed.”
“Michael Jackson calling you?… That’s a good one!”
And with that, I quickly ran outside to hail a cab.
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