13 - damage control

Like clockwork, my house phone rang and I already knew it was my bestfriend asking me if I was watching the news. She picks up news at lightspeed.

"Wolf residence," Aaron answered. "Oh yeah, we're all watching the news right now." He dipped his chips in his salsa and busted out laughing. "I know right?! This is better than cable! Oh god, he just grabbed her keys... now he's marching out the door. Now she's following him! I need some popcorn. "

"Michael?" I called out in front of my door.

"What a fucking bitch," he groaned, heading towards my garage.

"Where are you even going?! And do you talk to your mother with that mouth?"

"I'm going to her house to give her a piece of my mind."

"Where are you taking my car?!" I saw him unlock my Testarossa. "Oh no, don't take that one. Take the Audi."

He stopped and looked at me puzzled. "What do you mean I can't take this one? I brought you this one."

"So? I'm not letting you drive that. You can't even handle it." The last thing I needed was him getting a speeding ticket in my vehicle... like the last time. Idiot.

"Shut.. up, Giovanna!" he yelled, smacking the roof of the car in fustration.

I tried not to laugh at his angry state. He was literally boiling. "Calm down. I know it's messed up."

"It is messed up, isn't it? She wants to do this behind my back?!"

My eyes rolled automatically. "I meant both parties are messed up. Let's not act holy here." Per usual, it's always everyone's fault but Michael's. Classic him.

He waved his finger. "No, don't even, because unlike her I don't put our business out to the public. That's a new low."

"No, that Ferrari is a new low. I literally just got a lower suspension." I bent down, pointing at the exterior. "Check out that detail, Michael."

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, trying not to go off on me. God, I love messing with him. "I swear on my life, I'm about to catch a charge."

I rested my hand on my hip. "Oh please. Entertain me. What are you going to do, kill her?"

"Of course not, Giovanna. It's a figure of speech."

"I've never heard of it." I was making him so furious he was shaking, but at least he wasn't zooming off in my car on a road rage. "If you leave, I'm not going to let you back in." Over the time I was first pregnant Michael was shocked when he realized I changed my locks. His car would stand outside of my gates for two, three hours at a time throughout the week as if I was joking with him. Finally he realized I wasn't playing at all. Now is no different. "And besides, don't I always make you feel better?" I asked trying to cheer him up.

His eyes went soft at me as he tried to conceal his smile. "She should've talked to me first."

"About filing for divorce or making it public?"

"Making it public. She didn't have to do that. "

We've been through this so many times before, with different women. Us going absolute apeshit and trying to calm eachother down, that she just wasn't the one. "All things come out into the light, you know." I smoothed the frizz of his hair.

"Like my true love for you instead?"

I had no choice but laugh. "Are you talking about a PR relationship? Because it's not happening."

"Why not?"

I snatched my car keys from his grip. "Like I said, I would never--"

"I know what you said. But it's not like the world didn't think we were dating in the first place." That was true, but since I didn't hide my personal relationships with women people had their doubts. Tabloids started printing that I was a "beard" for Michael as a cover up for his "homosexuality". Ridiculous. As if the man didn't have women fainting over him, masturbating in front of him (yes, I've seen it) at his performances. And when his voice drops down to his normal octave, low and haunting and demanding. Michael was sweet but he was a far shot from Peter Pan.

"Remember that tabloid cover that said we were lesbian lovers? That was funny."

He glared at me. "No it wasn't. And when are you going to announce our baby?"

"Well for one, I'm not going to announce it as our baby, for obvious reasons I hope you're competent enough to understand. Two, I'd have to talk to Alisha about it first. But I can tell you right now, she is not going to be down for a relationship for at least another year. At least. Me neither."

He looked completely dissappointed. "But-"

"No. It's not happening. Alisha will say the same."

"Ask her."

-------

"Nope! Not happening!"

I let out the most glass shattering scream as I rested on my marble table, thighs wide apart as Alisha ripped the waxing sheet right across one side of my vag. "ALISHA," I groaned through my teeth.

"Is he on that stuff?" She questioned, dipping the wooden stick into the hot wax and blowing it a little, then smoothing it on my other side. "Because that's the only logical reasoning to explain him right now."

"Oh god.. oh god, Lish you're killing me."

"Shut up! I'm doing this," she yelled over me as if she was a dominatrix. "No one wants to see your wild ass bush."

I scoffed. "Wild ass bush?! Oh please," I let out another scream of terror as she did a quick rip. I felt tears coming to my eyes. "You're such a bitch."

Her eyes looked me up and down between my legs. "You have a really, really cute pussy, Gia."

"You already knew that."

She winked. "I know."

I looked up at the ceiling and traced my fingers over my 20 weeks round stomach. "Seriously, when my water breaks the first thing we're going to do is make sure my vag is waxed. I'm not trying to go into labor with a forest."

"Of course we'll do that as soon as your water breaks. You know, priorities." she said, amused.

The wax felt warm on me. It felt pretty good. I wonder if they have kitten warmers. For your vagina. That's a good invention. I'd endorse it. "You are such a ride or die."

"You know it," she chirped before she instantly ripping it off again, making me grab the nearest pillow and howl into it.  "If you can't take this how are you going to take labor, woman?!"

"That's why epidurals exist." I couldn't believe I was halfway through my pregnancy already. I have my anatomy scan next week and I couldn't sleep just thinking about it. I smiled as I felt Peanut kick a little.

"I hope you have a baby boy. I can't see you with a girl, not as your first anyway."

"I said the same thing! I have a feeling that he's going to be a boy. Michael said he wants a girl.. to humble me. Whatever." If the baby was going to look anything like Michael, that was going to be an adorable baby. He was adorable as a child. I repeat, as a child.

She smirked as she dipped the stick in the hot goo again. "Maybe next time. So she can have an older brother."

"Okay, let's stop talking about it. I feel like we're jinxing me."

"What shape do you want?" she asked, blowing the stick to cool it down again. "Landing strip, martini, bermuda triangle, or bare?"

"Just go bare. I always do martini."

"Gotcha."

I shut my eyes and bit back a yell. I was kind of getting used to it but damn, it burned like hell.

"Okay, I'm done. So smooth."

--------

My mother squeezed my hand as the doctor smoothed that sticky disgusting gel over my belly. When I told her I was pregnant she wept so hard and scheduled a plane ticket for the next day. I love her.

"Alright, let's see what we have here," the man said as he adjusted his glasses. I stared at Peanut's tiny legs moving around. "He sure is active!"

My eyes went wide. "He?!"

"He!" the doctor grinned.

"As in boy?"

"Oh, honey! A baby boy," my mom teared up while looking at the screen.

I screamed in delight and clapped my hands. "I knew it. Ha! He owes me 50 grand."

My mother hit my shoulder. "You two placed a bet on your child?" She frowned. "Disgusting. Children are starving, Gia."

"I'm an ambassador for the United Nations. Cut me some slack, mommy."

I dialed Michael's number and he picked up, his throat sounding very raspy. "You just woke me up."

"It's 4 in the afternoon."

"Not in Paris." Michael flew out of the country to take a break from all of the chaos back in the States, which I didn't blame him for. The news was everywhere.

"Well.." I couldn't stop grinning. "You owe me."

"It's a boy?!" he asked, instantly awaken.

"Yes!" I cheered, cheesing so hard my jaws were hurting. "And I need my money wired to me by sunset, sucka."

He chuckled. "I'll take care of it."

"You should see him! He is moving so much. I'm getting pictures too, ok? I gotta go."

"Okay. I love you."

I inhaled. I haven't heard those words in such a long time. Well not like this. The last few times I heard it it was over screaming matches or slurred drunken voicemails. It took me by surprise. "I love you too, so much," I whispered into the phone, suddenly not wanting to hang up. He was so many miles away. "When are you coming home?"

"To you?"

"Yeah."

I heard the smile in his voice. "Three days. Okay?"

"Mhm."

"Bye Frecks."

My mouth formed into a sad crooked smile. "Bye."

-------

"We must work together in new and unprecedented ways across borders and religions, bringing governments and people together and tackling the problem from every possible angle. And by doing this we can end the use of rape and sexual violence as a weapon of war once and for all. We really can do it."

I stood in front of the podium with a sea of cameras flashing on me and my baby bump for the first time to the world.

"So, thank you so much for joining us today, for joining us in this fight, and I wish us all a very lovely Governors Ball."

Later that evening, Alisha led me to the press conference where  a crowd of young and hungry journalists waited with their cameras, recorders, and notebooks waiting for a quote. I didn't really understand the excitement but I let the questions come anyway.

A young darkskinned man stepped up first and smiled at me. "Congratulations on your pregnancy. When are you due?"

"I am almost six months pregnant. Sometime in November," I said, not wanting to give the exact date.

Another lady raised her hand. "Gia, who is the father to your little addition to your family?"

"All of that is very private right now," I replied firmly.

"Sperm donor?"

"Private," I repeated, completely confused as to why that would be the first question.

I called on someone else. "We understand that you and Michael Jackson are very close, yes?"

What did this have to do with the global violence? "We've been close for a decade now."

"What do you think of his divorce?"

"I'm afraid I cannot comment on someone else's marriage," I replied sweetly. I felt my palms starting to sweat and an uneasiness in my stomach at where these questions were leading to.

"Are you aware of the security video surfacing around showing you, allegedly, and Michael Jackson, allegedly?"

I knitted my brows. "I am not aware of what you are talking about?"

"The video is from a Manhattan hotel. Allegedly it is supposed to be of you shown, undressed and letting a man believed to be Michael in your hotel room. It has been reported this happened around seven months ago?"

My lungs clenched behind my ribcage as I tried to save face.

"And you are almost six months pregnant, you said?" he challenged.

I was almost at a loss for words. I had to get myself together. The chatter erupted in the room I felt like I was about to hurl. "I have no idea what you are talking about. Next question." 

Another reporter stood up. "Are you the reason for Michael Jackson's recent divorce with Lisa Marie Presley?"

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A/N: Oh shit. *Aaron's voice* This chapter was so lazy but I'm out of it and just wanted to get to the point.