Chapter 1 – Action!
Action!
(1) any movement or series of events (usually rehearsed) that take place before the camera and propel the story forward toward its conclusion; (2) the word called out (by a megaphone) at the start of the current take during filming to alert actors to begin performing; (3) also refers to the main component of action films – that often contain significant amounts of violence
Neverland, June 2000
Michael shut the door behind his back and leaned against it. For a moment, the only thing he did was close his eyes and breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. What else was he supposed to do? He had to cleanse his mind from all the erratic thoughts populating it, right now. And then decide. Decide how he was going to handle this.
This damn motherfucking mess. Involving him and someone else too – someone he didn’t want to think about. Given a chance, ever again. Besides, as it often happened when any scandalous news came out, the individuals concerned were not the only ones involved. In practical terms, he had to think about his family.
He didn’t care much about what his brothers and sisters would say. Or his father, for that matter. Joseph was more likely going to be proud of his “boy”. Go figure. Mother, however… she would be shocked. And possibly heartbroken, embarrassed…
Michael’s closed eyelids fluttered for a second, and he covered his eyes with the palm of his hand.
And then the kids. Prince. Paris.
Shit…
Sure, they were still so little, but he had learned that whatever appeared on the internet, stayed on the internet. Forever. Which meant that sooner or later they were going to bump into that… thing. Despite recognizing the considerable potentiality of the world wide web, for a second Michael wished that the infamous, apocalyptic y2k had occurred. But nope. Nothing of that sort. Of course not. The world had not gone back to the Bronze Age. No such luck.
And now… well, now it was a damn, motherfucking mess.
A mess that he could not, in any way, avoid or hide because it was already out. And everyone would see. Everyone, including… Zoe.
Gosh, she didn’t deserve this. Things with her had been going so well. He hadn’t even fathomed it possible, to be so content in a relationship once again, after that hurricane that his wife had been. His first wife, obviously. The second one, who had been his wife in name only – as a result of a fucked up business deal he had so foolishly made – had managed to test his patience and endurance as well, but for different reasons. Mainly monetary. While the first one, the only woman he truly had perceived as his wife in spirit, flesh, name, and deeds, had practically disintegrated his balls to the point that he had been trying to erase her memory from his heart and mind for good. A task he thought he had almost accomplished.
Until now.
Once again, the universe laughed at him. No, Michael! Never forget who you used to be! And who you intended to spend your life with…
Well… Now at least everyone would know he had quite a big set of those. Balls, that was.
Shaking his head, Michael finally managed to walk over to his desk and let himself fall on the chair. Resting his elbows on the desk, he took his head into his hands.
How had it happened? Who had done this? How was he going to handle it? He was a shrewd businessman, but never, not even in his wildest nightmares, would he have imagined having to deal with such horrendous news. Things like this happened, sure, but not to him.
Almost on autopilot, he reached down and opened a drawer, extracting the yellow air cushion enveloped that had been delivered to him, together with the usual daily mail, via his staff. This one had quite the goods inside. An optical disk containing what had already reached the internet, and a note. Printed, of course, not handwritten.
“Put that disk into your very expensive laptop and then push play, MJ.
Just like many, many other people will do from now on. They will push play.
Do you even remember shooting this? I think it’s a nice private movie and it deserves some recognition. You and the leading lady are both award-worthy.
I’m sure the audience will love the sequels just as much, but for now they definitely will enjoy this.”
For now…
What the fuck. The moment Michael had read the message, the content of the optical disk was already online on several different sources – and spreading like wildfire – and he already knew it was practically impossible to stop the digital hemorrhage. He could only think about how to react to contain the damage as much as he could.
Welcome to the new millennium.
He knew that his team was in total crisis management mode right now and that they would come up with a solution very soon. But until then, he was alone with his thoughts and they swirled in his mind like snakes on Medusa’s head. He had to get a grip on himself. And he had to call her. As much as he really, really didn’t want to.
Hidden Hills, that same night
Well, thank God for small favors. At least Roman had left, and she could count on the fact that he was not going to know anything about this shit before the next morning. Unless… well, unless he decided to surf the web before falling asleep. In that case, she was toast. And kinda sure her new boyfriend would not be able to sleep at all.
It happened every fucking time. Every fucking time Lisa thought she was back on her feet, and able to finally go on without that asshole of her ex, something happened reminding her that, nah uh, the King of Pop could not be forgotten. Or completely put aside. Whether she liked it or not. Because a world without him, factually, did not exist and it didn’t matter how committed she was in banishing him from her heart and her life. He would always pop up somewhere. His face on the cover of a magazine, his voice on the radio, his dance moves on TV. Or even worse, this.
A fucking mess!
This time, not even her crass imagination could ever have fathomed the pile of shit that had rained on her. And him. But fuck him, who cared? She didn’t, for sure. Not anymore. She was done with him, and maybe Michael didn’t have a clear idea of how done she was.
The current dilemma was that she would now be forced to get back in touch with the guy. Something she really, really didn’t want to do.
That was the thing about having been married to the most famous man on the planet. About having been his closest friend, his lover, then his wife, and then his lover again. She was never really going to get rid of him for good. And right now she had to think about the repercussions this simple fact was going to have. Her mother already knew about the digital disaster, and she had called Lisa, flipping out to the point that Lisa had started considering the idea of calling 911. Her mother had sounded so out of it.
As a matter of fact, it had been Priscilla the one who had made Lisa aware of what was going on. Breaking her beatitude. Lisa had been living in the clouds of her peaceful, not-too-committal new relationship and her mother had dragged her ass back to the ground, making her very much aware that they were now holding a hot potato. Well, technically speaking, Lisa was. But Priscilla never failed to mention how Lisa’s actions could impact her father’s legacy. And the phone call had not been plain sailing for sure.
“How could you, Lisa Marie?” Priscilla had barked into the receiver, loud enough that Lisa had removed the phone from her ear. “How could you do this to me?!”
Lisa had barely repressed a sarcastic laugh. What did she mean? Did she really think the whole thing was aimed at pissing her off? Back then, Priscilla hadn’t even been a blip on her radar. The mere idea was so gross! And what was she talking about, exactly? The act in itself or the fact that it was now on the internet? She didn’t know why, but the mental image was somehow hilarious. If you loved dry humor, of course – which she did.
“Are you for real, mother? Not everything revolves around you and sure as fuck you were not in my mind at that time!”
“That was so uncalled for! I just want to make sure it was not anything he concocted to get back at you… or you at him…”
“Seriously?” Lisa had scrunched her forehead. “You think we would ever stoop so low and behave in such a malignant, self-centered, despicable matter… out of spite?”
“Well, knowing you both, forgive me if I’m suspicious. You know what I think of him. You know I never was fooled by that innocent image he loves to project. He is an amoral man, and you lose yourself completely around him. He was always such a bad influence for you.”
OK, now her words were no longer funny – not even in a dry humor kind of way. They were starting to become obnoxious. Besides, they were also false. Michael was many things – but amoral sure as hell was not one of them. However, since her mother already seemed on the verge of hyperventilating, Lisa knew she had to tread carefully and had tried to assure her as best as she could, telling her that her lawyers had already been informed. Of course, Priscilla had beaten her to the punch: her own legal team was already on it. Moving heaven and hell to find out who in the world had dared to do something so “hideous, grotesque, abominable.” Verbatim.
Lisa had slowly turned serious, pausing after feeling on the verge of cracking up hysterically for about five minutes straight. Rage, indignation and something that she faintly recognized as an old sense of protectiveness seeped through, like acid.
“Hideous? Grotesque… Abominable, even? I hope you’re not referring to the content, mother. ‘Cause if you did…”
Priscilla was smart enough to understand when she crossed the line. Her voice had changed, resuming that pacifying, businesslike tone Lisa knew so well.
“Lisa Marie. Who do you think you’re talking to? I wasn’t born yesterday. Of course, I was not referring to the act in itself, but to the fact that it has become public. Anyway, I only watched like… maybe a minute or two. It was more than enough for me. No mother should ever have to see anything like that about her daughter.”
Lisa refrained herself from telling Priscilla that nobody had forced her to push play, and that no daughter would ever want her mother to be a spectator of such a show. Besides, she didn’t know if she was supposed to believe her words or not. Mother was duplicitous, always trying to be at least one step ahead. If not two. But she didn’t say anything. Sure as hell Lisa didn’t have the willpower to fight, right now. It was done already. No reason to cry over spilled milk… and even less to discuss the hows, whys, wheres and whens with Priscilla. Who probably had watched the whole thing, just to have a clear, complete overview of the situation and assess the possible damage.
God, that was so embarrassing…
Right now, as she sat in her living room after having tucked in the kids, Lisa just stood there, phone in her hand, biting the inside of her cheek, and pondering whether she should call Michael or not. It was the middle of the night, but that was not the problem. Well, maybe she could just send him a text. Did he know what was going on? Had he already found out? What if he hadn’t? Did she want to be the one delivering the news? Did she feel like she could do that? Was she ready to face his reactions? Ready to face him again?
Before she could make up her mind, the phone rang in her hands, almost giving her a heart attack. The second one of the day.
Static.
The corner of a bed. White sheets. A pearl rose blanket. All crinkled. As if someone already had slept in it. Or rolled over it.
Buzzing.
More static.
“Let me see… Be good…”
“There’s nothing to see…” His deep voice. A low laugh. “Not yet…” He sounds tired, but in such a happy mood. She remembers why.
“Come on, daddy… I’m being a good girl… I’ve been waiting for a while now…”
Another low laugh. Husky and sexy. Oh yeah… He is in a great mood. Perfectly happy. Because he is so perfectly in love.
“Keep waiting a little longer, baby… You know what’s gonna happen in a minute…”
“I hope I do. Can I turn around?”
“Nope. Keep lyin’ down on your stomach. Let me see that cute little ass.”
The camera pans over her body, lying down flat on the bed. She is naked, and glorious in her beauty. Hair wild, tanned skin shining in the yellowish light coming from the lamp strategically placed on the floor, near the nightstand, because Michael loves the perfect light for his videos. Something is draped over the lamp and she can see a bit of it in the corner of the screen. It looks like a white shirt. She knows who it belongs to. It belongs to him. It ended down there when she practically peeled the pesky pieces of fabric off him. Threw it somewhere, she didn’t know where, because whatever was around them had already stopped existing at that point.
Her skin is glistening with sweat. Once again, she remembers why. They have been going at it for quite some time now, but they aren’t done. In fact, they are far from done and she recalls how he never needs much time to recover when they are together like this. Neither does she.
The camera zooms on her ass. She has to admit, it does look good. She can hear him breathing. His breathing is a bit shallow, slightly more accelerated than usual.
“What are you doing?” From the purr in her voice, she can tell she knows exactly what he is up to.
“It’s none of your business what I’m doing, lady… Hold still…”
The camera moves up her body. The small of her back, up again. Then to her shoulders. Her hair is tousled. She knows he has been fisting it in his hand for a while. But not at that very moment… earlier. Before he turned the camera on. After he took her from behind, making her scream. Making her collapse on the mattress, her face buried in the soft pillows, her moans muffled. She is still in that same position, and he has asked her not to move. Of course, she is complying because when her clothes are off, it’s never a problem to obey and be a willing participant in their games.
But despite pretending to be in the dark, she knows exactly what’s going on. She knows he’s filming her. She heard the noises – very light, but unmistakable. The buzz of the camera starting to record. Him pressing a button, then another one. The swoosh of the zoom. He thinks he’s slick. And he is, really. But she often only pretends to be one step behind, when in fact she is not.
The shot tilts a little as he kneels down on the bed. He comes closer. His breathing sounds even more erratic now.
“Baby girl… Take a look… Turn your head, slowly… I wanna see those eyes…”
She complies again, squinting a little although the light in the room is scarce. She sees what he’s doing and smiles at him brightly – all the while looking straight into the camera, intercepting his eyes through the lenses.
“Oh, Mike… Something new to add to our collection?”
He chuckles, but despite his casual attitude she can tell he is ready for some more action.
“I don’t see why not.”
Her ass comes up, and she assumes the position even before he asks her to.
“Bring it on, then…”
As he scoots even closer, the camera tilts again and his body becomes visible for a few seconds. He is naked and aroused. Huge and so beautiful.
His free hand rests on her ass, and he strokes it lovingly. Possessively.
“Spread your legs a bit…”
“Hey, uhm.”
Lisa chased the images away from her mind. But it was useless. It felt like being unable to keep a door closed, insects coming in time after time. Insects…
Butterflies.
“Hey. I was going to call you.”
“Good, I’m glad you were not asleep…” He sounded exhausted. Worried. Embarrassed. Was he ashamed of what they had done together? The possibility hurt her more profoundly than she was prepared for.
“How can I be asleep, Michael? I came back home and found out that one of our… ah… private tapes is on the internet.” She let out a sad chuckle. “I highly doubt I’ll be able to sleep… at least for tonight.”
“So you know. Who told you?”
“My mother.”
At his desk, Michael blushed and covered his mouth with his hand.
“Fucking hell… did she see the whole thing? Or someone else informed her?”
“I don’t know the specifics. She told me she only saw a little bit, though…” She bit her lips. If she wasn’t sure Priscilla had been honest, Michael wasn’t either.
“I see…” He paused. “Look, I know we don’t… you know…”
“Talk anymore?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not… personal. Me calling you, I mean. But we gotta handle this. Together. Understand who leaked the thing. And how come they knew where to find it. It’s kinda… worrisome that they did…”
Ah, suddenly she recognized who she was talking to. This was not her ex-husband, ex-lover, her best friend, the man she had wanted and craved more than anything else in her life. This was the businessman. The professional. The cold, polite iceberg. A man who didn’t love her anymore.
Well, big whoop. She didn’t love him either.
“Kinda worrisome?” She shook her head. “Understatement of the year. It’s a motherfucking disaster… that’s what it is.”
“Well, nothing we can do to stop it now. As far as I can tell, several webzines are already talking about it…” As he spoke, he kept surfing the internet. With a strange, uncanny internal detachment, as if he was a scientist observing something from the outside. He knew he would soon get overwhelmed by the whole thing, but so far he had been able to stay as clear-headed as necessary.
“Are you checking right now?”
“Yeah… Aren’t you?”
Lisa rose from the couch and went to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and took out a bottle of vodka.
“Nope… I got better things to do right now.”
“Like what?”
“Like having a drink. I mean, why not.”
“So you don’t wanna know what they’re saying?”
“Not now. Thanks for your concern though.” She gulped down the vodka and poured herself another glass.
“Hey, listen… My team is already on it.”
“Yeah, mine too.”
“You think we should meet? And, you know, confront what we have so far?”
Oh God, no. The last thing she wanted was to see him. The last time they had been together had been complete, undiluted hell. And Lisa knew that seeing him again would make some old wounds resurface. The pain, the disappointment, the void. And yet…
“It would probably be the right thing to do, yeah…”
“Look, if you don’t wanna be there, I understand. I can meet with your people. But I am gonna handle this thing myself. It’s a low blow and…” His eyes moved to the message he had received. Attached to the optical disk – a copy of his and Lisa’s tape. “This is personal.”
“Ah, not sure what I wanna do. I’ll consider my options… then I’ll decide.” She watched the liquid swirl in the small glass. It looked so innocent. Just like water. Only, it wasn’t. It was way more toxic and dangerous than that. “You know what, Michael? Have your people call my entourage and then I’ll see.”
“Cool.” Michael stared at the frame plastered on the homepage of one of those disgusting online magazines that had been springing up like mushrooms on the web, lately. That still frame – albeit partially blurred – didn’t leave space to imagination. The title was even more explicit.
Explosive! Leaked sex tape shows Wacko Jacko getting it on with ex-wife Lisa Presley!
He closed the laptop and sighed in the phone.