July 12, 2003 (5:25am)
“It’s cold as hell out here!”
Sheila wondered if MJ had chosen to shoot the video for BAD on the coldest day in New York’s history on purpose.
Michael gave her that same look he gives when she uses an ‘off color’ word.
Sheila put up her hand. “Don’t even start MJ! I’m just saying what everybody else is probably thinking!”
He had to laugh at her. She was never one to bite her tongue. She didn’t care who you were.
“OK, yes Sheila, it is very cold out here. But we will be going inside in a few minutes.”
This subway setup was takin too long, and everyone was getting restless. Michael happened to glance in the opposite direction, just in time to see Sheila chatting up a storm with one of his costars, Wesley sumthin. He couldn’t remember.
He had that same look in his eyes that most men have when they talk to Shelia. He wanted to scream out that he was there to work, not ‘work’ the set! It pissed him off because he knew he would never be able to approach her in that way, and he envied the guys who did. What does he know about Sheila anyway? What could he do for her besides the obvious?
Michael walked over to the director, Martin Scorsese.
“Don’t we need Sheila to discuss this shot? I mean, she is going to have some input on the choreography scenes, right?”
“Yeah, Sheila! Need you over here for a few!” Scorsese called out, waving his hand.
“I’m there!”, she called back, excusing herself from Wesley sumthin.
Michael did not like the way Wesley watched her walk away. The disgust he was feeling must have been on his face.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sheila asked.
“Nuthin. Absolutely nuthin…”
She shrugged her shoulders and started discussing the shot with Scorsese.
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“Well, when he gets in, would you tell him to call me asap?”
She was starting to get angry. They had been holed up in this hotel for a few weeks shooting this video, and everything was falling behind schedule. MJ’s first solo tour was gonna start soon, and she had yet to get him alone to discuss the music and staging. It was almost as if he was avoiding her. He was acting like he was the only one she was working for. She was juggling several projects, and MJ was making her look bad with others as well.
It was a little after midnight when she heard his entourage coming down the hall. She opened her door and stomped into the hallway.
“Michael, where have you been??! I’ve been trying to reach you! You know we have to get this project done soon! I have to go back to L.A. in a few days!’, she said, shaking papers at him.
“So go then.”
“What do you mean, go?! This is not finished yet!” She was confused.
“If you need to go, then go.” He never broke his stride. He walked into his room at the end of the hallway and closed the door.
Sheila stared at his bodyguards, and they all shrugged their shoulders, practically in unison. She felt like she was in the middle of an episode of The Three Stooges.
“Oh hell no,” she said stomping toward MJ’s door. She walked right in without knocking and slammed the door behind her.
MJ was sitting on the couch with the TV remote in his hand.
“What the fu*k is goin on here?! Have you finally lost your mind, or is it just me?”
She was furious. He liked it. He liked being able to get a rise out of her. But he was angry as well.
“It must be you, cuz I said if you need to leave, then leave! Maybe if you spent more time working and not socializing, we would have finished by now!”
“What!? Socializing?”
“In the hotel dining room? You were having dinner with that Wesley sumthin?”
“Snipes. His last name is Snipes. You have been working with the man for a few weeks now. Seems like the least you could do is remember his name.” She sat down on the couch, exhausted with anger.
“I don’t need to know his name. That’s YOUR job,” he snipped.
“I see, so you can prance around with little miss, the way you make feel, and I can’t have dinner with someone? Is that what you're saying? That has nuthin to do with planning, now does it?”
“I was not prancing,” he said, mimicking her tone, “I was working.”
“Oh yeah, you were working alright!”
“Look, I’m tired. I’m not gonna sit here and trade sharp barbs with you all night. Just leave it there and I will look over it.”
Sheila touched the top of her head. He noticed that she does that whenever she gets upset.
“Fine, do whateva.” With that, she put the papers on the couch and left his room, quietly closing the door behind her.
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She’s gone. He knew it as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning. He had a tremendous headache, and he knew why.
Guilt. He was wrong, totally. He let his emotions get the best of him, when it really wasn’t his place to do so.
Damn it! She stubbed her big toe on the way to the bathroom in her L.A. beach house. Stumbling towards the medicine cabinet, she found the bottle of aspirin she was looking floor. Those wonderful childproof caps made it REAL easy for her to scatter the entire contents on the floor. She sighed in frustration and sat on the edge of the tub. The silence was deafening, making it easy for her to hear the argument she had with MJ playing over and over again in her head. She had gone too far and said too much, acting like a jealous girlfriend. She wasn’t sure why, which made her head hurt even more. She picked up two aspirin off the floor, kissed them up to God, and washed them down with water.
Later that morning, she was just about to walk her dog, Pepsi (yeah, I used to have a dog named Pepsi…cute huh?), when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Did you get today’s paper?” It was Michael.
She hung up immediately. He called back immediately.
“What?!”
“Sheila, please. Don’t be mad at me. Please don’t hang up.”
She didn’t like the way her stomach did a weird flip when he said her name like that.
She sighed loudly. “I’m listening.”
“Open today’s paper to the classified section.”
“I already have a job,” she said, reaching for the paper on her couch.
He had missed that sarcasm. “I know that, but do it anyway…”
She opened the paper. “Here we are, the classifieds, now what?” She tried to sound angry, even though she was glad to hear his voice.
“Section 11, four boxes down…”
I’m sorry for acting so OFF THE WALL, but sometimes I CAN’T HELP IT. WORKING DAY AND NIGHT can get to me sometimes! It’s only HUMAN NATURE. You have YOUR WAYS, and I have mine, but you are still my LOVELY ONE. Please give me ONE MORE CHANCE, and don’t PUSH ME AWAY. Think about all the GOOD TIMES we have had in the past and will have in the future, because TIME WAITS FOR NO ONE. Next time we act BAD, we can just BLAME IT ON THE BOOGIE!
I’m really sorry Sheila, MJ
“Did you read it yet?” Michael asked anxiously.
Sheila was glad he could not see her face. She was truly overwhelmed by this sweet olive branch he extended.
“Yes, I read it Michael. I’m sorry too MJ. I should not have let my temper get the best of me.”
“I promise it won’t happen again,” he said.
“Yes it will!” Sheila laughed. Michael laughed too.
“You came and you changed my world, a love so brand new…” 
Today has been rough. We miss you now and always MJ…
”
