~~Chapter 2~~
~~Virtual Insanity Index~~
He put his elbow on his desk and held his head up with his hand as he began to slip into a daydream. It was ridiculous. It would be different if he was chatting with his fans out of curiosity. But no, it was because he wanted to talk with people that judge him for him. Not by his pale white skin or the long black and wavy hair, but judge him for him. But it really was ridiculous and he felt ashamed for it.
�� "Hey Mikey." he heard Jeff, head of his security team, say outside his bedroom door.
Michael blinked a few times, becoming aware of his surroundings again.
�� "You can come in," Michael said softly. He didn't move, he just watched as Jeff entered his barely lit room.
�� "Hey, wassup, Mike." Jeff said, in a gentle tone. Jeff, like Michael, was dressed in blue jeans and he wore a Lakers T-shirt. He sat himself on Michael's bed.
�� "Did you check your mail today?" Jeff asked.
Michael shook his head. "Why?"
Jeff showed Michael an envelope and passed it to him. Michael glanced at Jeff before he began to take the letter out of the already opened envelope.
�� "We found it while scanning your fan mail." Jeff explained, leaning back on the dull red bed sheets.It was a stalker letter. In an unsteady penmanship it read "I want you to die." The author called him/herself "Nissassa".
�� Michael smiled. "Jeff, you know I get stalker letters all the time. But this is just hilarious. Ever watch those Steven King movies? His name is 'assassin' spelled backwards."
�� Jeff laughed. "Man, you got a nutty sense of humor."
Michael smiled at the compliment and fixed the collar of his black shirt.
�� "Maybe you should show off that sense of humor a little more." Jeff suggested softly.
Michael gazed at him, feeling a little appalled by his statement.
� "Was there any thing else I need to know about?" Michael asked softy.
�� "You mean more flowers from Lisa Marie Presley?" Jeff cracked.
Michael smiled. It had been seven years after his break up with Lisa Marie. Now, for some reason, she had been begging him to come back to her. It was becoming annoying to Michael because he wasn't about to go back to the emotional drama she had put him through.
�� "Other than that, you just need to watch your back. We aren't taking this 'Nissassa' guy lightly."
Michael nodded. "Okay."
Jeff stood and walked towards the door. He stopped.
�� "And yo Mike, don't stay on that computer too long. I know some people who are obsessed with that thing and they , like, stay online all day. Please don't end up like them." Jeff was half serious.
Michael nodded. "Okay."
When Jeff closed the door behind him, Michael took his black fedora from his desk and prepared to go downstairs but something stopped him as he was about to put the hat on his head. She remembered one of the many things Lisa had said to her when they were together. What she said hurt him most of the time but he tried to ignore it.
Michael, you got to stop wearing that damn hat. It's getting old.
Michael could even hear her voice in his ear. Michael slowly put the hat down on his bed and went out the door.
After Innocence29 had signed out of instant messaging, Crystal followed a conversation in the Michael Jackson chatroom. She caught only half of what people were saying because she was thinking about her chat with Innocence29. A question of his identity easily came to her mind. But she quickly brushed off the possibility that Innocence29 was Michael Jackson. She turned her attention to the chat.
Thrilli > Like I said, Thriller is the best
Crazy4U > Right
Ladybug > Blood on The Dancefloor is great though
Betty > LOL Yeah right!!
Innocence29 did have her attention though. Crystal thought it wouldn't hurt to get to know him. Even if he is a dork. Before she was able to snicker at her thought, the sound of her bedroom door opening made her jump. She turned around in her chair to see her husband, James. His white shirt was unbuttoned showing his pale white chest.
�� "Hi..." she stimmered. She didn't make eye contact with him. Her blue eyes stared at the wooden floor.
James walked in unsteadily and grabbed the collar of Crystal's blue top. She could smell alcohol in James' breath and could feel her heart beating faster.
�� "Why are the dishes still in the sink?" James said. His voice was slurred and deep.
�� "I'm sorry, I--" Crystal started.
�� "That's the problem with women." James said, eyes becoming blood-shot red. "You ain't worth shit." He glanced at the computer screen. Crystal closed her eyes.
� "Please don't hurt me, please..." she begged.
�� "Fuckin' Michael Jackson," James said, yanking her by the collar.
�� "I'm sorry, it won't happen again..." Crystal pleaded.
James let her go. "Get down there and wash the dishes."
Crystal stood and, in a quick pace, headed down the stairs. James stumbled after her.
�� "This is why women shouldn't have jobs. Can't do what a man tells her." James mumbled.
Soaking the dishtowel with water, Crystal let her tears fall as she played a Michael Jackson song in her head.