November 13th 1996, 3:55pm.

I watched as I was witnessing here in the Sheraton on the Park Hotel here in Sydney, as Michael was marrying Debbie Rowe. Although I don't know her that well, it feels like months since I've seen her with him. Debbie is now six months pregnant, three months more and she'll deliver. But before then, I have to make sure I know where I'm going with my plan, as I've decided to go through with it.

"You are so beautiful," Michael says after kissing her neck. "More beautiful than I ever imagined the mother of my child would be. Thank you so much, Debbie. Thank you for being...you."

I inwardly awwed. But I couldn't enjoy it knowing that Francesca won't be around to see that child, ever. Or any of his other children – and again, I freak myself out just by knowing what'll happen next.

"How cute – okay lets go," Lola says.

"Go where? This is our hotel room," I said.

"You don't have to go anywhere, I'm staying someplace else tonight. If Michael doesn't mind," says Debbie.

"Nothing wrong with that," Michael agrees.

I can't help but think of how unconventional Michael really is. His wife is now staying at another hotel after he just married her? Not that there's anything wrong with that, I guess I just have to get used to it if I can.

♔

After the little ceremony, Michael performed his last show in Australia. And let me tell you that on the way there, paparazzi and reporters were swarming Michael with questions about his marriage, just like they did before he got married. I guess the tabloids will have all of this stuff printed out by now, and I am going to have to put up with it all just until the tour finishes. Well more importantly, Michael is.