Michael's POV

Okay, yea. Let's just say I kinda already knew Ashley before I approached her a the club. Well, not know her, but my father had a old picture hidden, where he didn't want to see. Eventually, I found it and ask him who the 'man' and the 'little girl' is. My dad told me the whole story, and blah, blah, blah. I knew I had to see her. Of course, I didn't think she'd known about the feud. But I guess it's not a big deal. Well, for me. I don't about her. That's probably why she was upset that I'm, Michael Jackson.

***

I'm in my pent- about to call Ashley to come over, when I receive another call. Can you take a lucky guess of who it is? If you guessed Brooke Shields, you guessed right.

"Why the fuck is she calling me!?" I yelled out loud to myself.

I picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Michael," she said sexily.

"What do you want Brooke?" I said annoyed.

"Michael, baby, what's wrong? You want you come over and pleasure you," I could tell she was smirking.

"No, bye Brooke. I gotta go."

"Michael, baby, wait!" I hong up on her.

***

On the phone with Ashley

"Hello? Michael?"

"Hey Ashley," I said slowly.

"Um, yea I can't talk much right now. Haley is sick and I'm trying to take care of her," she said in a hurry.

"Wait? who's Haley?," I questioned.

"She's my best friend, and Michael I can't talk she's throwing up! Oh my god! Eww!"

All I could hear was gagging of some sort. I was laughing my ass off on the phone, but when she returned, I kept snickering a little and continued talking.

"Whatever Ashley," I giggled non-stop. "I hope she feels better, and come by later or tonight, I wanna talk to you," I said sexily.

"Yea, yea, okay. I'll be there by 9. Okay? Okay."

"Okay."

We hong up.

To be continued. . .

[Btw... the picture means nothing, just to give a picture of his giggle.]