Mia's POV
I went to the only place where I thought I might find Michael: the set.
All eyes were on me as I headed towards his trailer, but I paid no attention. It had been like this everywhere since…well, since all this happened. I was used to it by now.
However, before I could climb the steps to that filthy old trailer, Lilly jumped in my way. "Hello, Princess. May I help you?"
"I'm just here to see Michael," I said, trying and failing to get around her. "I need to talk to him," I said, looking her straight in the eye. Okay, why am I the one being scorned here? This is all his fault.
"I don't know if that's the best idea."
"But—"
"Mia," said Lilly, lowering her voice. "Look, you have your reasons to be upset, but I think you've made this all public enough."
"What about him!" I retaliated, gesturing angrily towards his humble abode.
"If we had known he was going to the papers, we would have stopped him. As it is, we're doing all we can to keep this from escalating."
"I can't just talk to him?" I sighed. Haven't I been through enough?
Lilly looked around nervously and let her shoulders drop. "Fine, but only because I think Michael deserves it. But next time, keep your lover's spats to yourselves."
Before I could tell her that we were NOT in love and there would NOT be a next time, because it was most definitely over, we had reached the door to his trailer. "It's open," she said, nudging me towards the door. "And don't claw him or anything. His looks are all he's got. You've obviously noticed he hasn't really got smarts to fall back on."
That's not true. He's a genius! At least when it comes to algebra and all of that. Michael sucks at people skills, though. I opened the door cautiously and Lilly vanished.
The first thing I noticed upon stepping inside is that Michael only had one light on, and it was a Mickey Mouse nightlight. I also spotted Breakfast at Tiffany's playing on the TV, but no one seemed to be watching it.
Michael was lying face down on his bed, completely motionless. It was right then that I had the strangest thought. I had this whole little vision of Michael being dead, and me going to his funeral and laughing.
But then I looked at his still form again and took it all back. I'd feel pretty terrible if he was dead, especially if we're in an awful row like this. Also, if he died that would just give people more reason to hate me.
"I can't take it any more!" I screamed, causing Michael to jerk up. He snatched the remote and switched off the TV, before turning to look at me.
"Oh." He fell back onto his pillow, looking supremely annoyed. "What are you doing here?"
Okay, we had completely gotten to second base on that same bed, but now I just wanted to strangle him. "You know exactly why I'm here. I saw the article."
"Well, you better expect me to show the same amount of sympathy you showed me."
"No, Michael," I protested, stomping my foot. "This is different!"
"Oh, yeah? Do elaborate."
I willed myself not to cry. But any time I'm near him, I'm going insane with all these different emotions and memories and such burning, fiery HATE.
It's not just the breaking of my heart that humiliated me, but the fact that he sucked me in. I mean, he really had me there for a while. And now he's set on just breaking my spirit or something.
"Haven't you already embarrassed me enough?"
He smiled, but not the goofy little grin he used to give me. In fact, it wasn't even really a smile. Sure, the corners of his mouth turned up, but his gaze remained icy. "I don't think so. Don't pretend you've done nothing wrong."
"I haven't!" I wailed, plunking down on the end of his bed. I blinked back tears and shivered a little.
Michael stood up and walked over to the mini-fridge, getting a beer out. "Um, ruining my reputation and spreading private stories all over the place? Making my mom look bad? Yeah, I'd say you did."
"B-but it was Tina!"
He stopped for a moment, then put the beer back and looked at me. "Who?"
"My friend. She's got the black braid. She came along to the movies that one time."
Clarity spread across Michael's face. "Deena?"
"Tina," I corrected, but he waved me off.
"But that doesn't even matter, because you wouldn't print a retraction."
I stood up and walked to the door. "Well, then. I don't think there's any more to say here."
"Wait, Mia," he said, standing in front of the door. "Um…"
I was pretty tired by then, and kinda sick of being around Michael. "What?" I snapped.
"Look, humiliate me all you want. I don't care any more. Just don't drag my family into this. As far as I'm concerned, this is over. Keep doing whatever you like, but they didn't do anything, so leave them out of it."
Geez, he was practically shaking. You wouldn't think an emotionless bastard could get so upset over his family's reputation being tarnished. "Deal," I conceded.
Michael held the door open for me. "Give Deena my regards."
I didn't even bother to correct him. He didn't care and by then, neither did I. "Bye, Michael," I said, hardly able to maintain the coolness to my tone.
"See ya."
I walked out of there, fully sure that that would be the last time I'd ever see Michael Wilson. A lone tear trickled down my cheek, but I wiped it away quickly. So maybe I miss Michael Moscovitz just a teeny bit.
But how can I miss him when he's everywhere?
