Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

Time never seemed to normally faze him. Some would apply it to their lives constantly, also applying the old age phrase that time waited for no man. He used to roll his eyes and giggle, not phased one tiny bit by their ramblings. To him nothing was determined by time and it was simply an illusion made to put an end to aspirations.

Though now, now... he understood. He understood what people meant when they said time waited for no man.

Picking up the tag embroiled with a name he didn't recognise, Michael begun to stare at it. He was confused, angry but most importantly hurt. He'd been told not to trust her, that all she simply wanted was a piece of his fame and fortune but he hadn't believed them. All he saw was a woman that needed to be loved, a woman that was opening her heart and offering her very soul to him. In return, he'd given her everything.

Money, passion, promises and most ironically so, endless time. He'd given her his very soul.

The embroiled tag dropped to the floor with a gentle tap as he stood, his figure walking over to stand just before the giant window that decorated a great portion of his apartment. His apartment overlooked the city, the dazzling lights of many buildings, street signs and cars sparkling up at him.

Michael released a tired sigh and ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a fraction of a minute before reopening them only to narrow his gaze and look into the distance.

He wanted an explanation but was scared of the answer. He knew no matter what, her answer would be one that wouldn't please him.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

He turned his head and glanced at the clock on the wall over the other end of the room.

11:28PM.

She was late – as usual. It wasn't unusual but it didn't help his worries nor brighten the tiny ounce of hope he had that told him she was innocent.

"Julie..." Michael sighed again though this time in despair, her name easily flowing from his lips.

- . - . - . - . - . - . -

Julie Monroe sat alone on the edge of a king sized bed. Her hands were preoccupied with the fiddly straps of her heels as she attempted to quickly get dressed and out of the building. The current of water raining down from a shower head could be heard in the background along with a deep voice singing some soprano song along with the vivid hum of a TV turned down to it's lowest possible sound.

Julie inhaled and closed her eyes, her fingers beginning to slowly massage her temples as they finished their assault on her heels. Alone and given somewhat peace for a few minutes, she begun to recount the event earlier this evening.

She'd left his apartment at 12:00pm with a passionate kiss goodbye, she could still feel the embrace they shared and the way his arms wrapped around her so protectively. She smiled at the memory to herself and gently touched her bottom lip, almost reliving the way his lips felt pressed against hers. After leaving, she walked her way to work and got dressed in the next getup that disguised her and enabled the next client's fantasies.

The lady she called her boss gave her a piece of paper, written on it was what she needed to act like to what she needed to dress and look like. Hence why her long blonde hair was now short and black, her green eyes now grey and her normally conservative clothing now skimpy and clad. The name she adopted for this client was ironically hilarious – Raven.

Seducing the client had been easy, to Julie it seemed he had mummy issues and with that comes playing dominant; something she always favoured over being submissive, especially when it came to her clients. Some of them didn't understand boundaries and being submissive to them meant being unnaturally rough.

Whenever she was with them, she always longed for him. She longed for the safety of his embrace and the enchantingly beautiful smile he gifted her with whenever he saw her. She never knew a smile could be so devastatingly bright until she met him.

Some would ask why she continued with this secret career of hers if she was emotionally and mentally invested elsewhere. The answer simply being she couldn't back out now or ever, they had her within their clutches and would stop at nothing to keep her. She wished for nothing other than being brave enough to tell her Michael of her career but feared his reaction.

Who ever wanted to see the one they loved most look at them with nothing but disappointment?

"Leaving so soon?"

Julie looked to her right side, her eyes being greeted by the figure of her half naked client with a towel wrapped around his waist and an arrogant, self-assured smile on his face.

She allowed a fake lazy smile to coat her lips and sent a wink in his direction. "Of course, I have places to be and people to see..."

"Ah," there was a pause to his words as he begun to rummage through his closet for clothes. Succeeding in finding what he was looking for, he turned back around to face her and smiled once more. "Business I presume?"

Julie wanted to reply with an 'obviously' but refrained from doing so. She wasn't here to act snarky nor would it go down a treat with her bosses if they found out she had been snarky with one of the clients.

So instead she simply nodded her head, the fake smile still in place and finished putting her attire back together. He offered to pay her more money as she was leaving, but Julie reminded him that she'd already technically been paid when he had initially scheduled to have her company.

Now as she walked the streets of Manhattan, Julie couldn't wait to see him again. She would of course need to change her attire, but that was easy. It was routine now.

Be with Michael, go to work, change attire, be with client and then change attire again to be with Michael.

She decided one day she would tell him.

Just not now.

- . - . - . - . - . - . -

Footsteps echoed the room, the clicking of the soles being repetitive yet lulling. They matched the tick of the clock, making the lulling effect even more lulling – like a lullaby.

The figure making the repetitive sound often ran a hand through his curly hair or tugged on the ends in stress. Then his hands would leave and re-enter his trouser pockets, the action seemingly reflecting his stress.

The sound of footsteps stopped but the clock ticked onwards.

1:05AM.

With his head hung, he let out a sigh.

The mantra in his head continued to play, just like it had all evening and night.

–ould've known, I should've known, I should've known...

The jingle of keys inside a lock caused his head to pop up and turn around to face the hallway connected to the front door, awaiting her arrival. He could hear the click of her heels and it made him squirm in discomfort.

She turned the corner and came to face him, a smile lighting up her beautiful face.

"Michael?"

He couldn't look her in the eyes, he didn't dare to. He knew that if he did, he would succumb and forget about his plans to confront her. He was a sucker for her, he was the literal definition of whipped but he wouldn't allow himself be played and fooled.

Not again.

"Michael...?" His name flowed out from between her lips so easily, he loved hearing her say his name. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

An arm wrapped around his waist and a soft hand rested itself upon the side of his face, coaxing him to release the hold his fingers had on his nose and his eyes to reopen. He didn't dare meet her concerned gaze.

"What's the matter?" She asked, her voice troubled.

He dared to finally look into her eyes, his own watering just at the sight of her expression.

"Why?" He croaked, his voice thick.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his question throwing her off guard. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean." He announced, allowing a tear to slide down his cheek. He unlatched her arm from around him and disconnected her hand from his face before turning around, his back to her now.

"I know everything about your little..." He paused to gather himself, deciding he wouldn't show her he was weak, or how he'd allow himself be affected by her. "Your little secret, Julie."

Silence. That was her response.

He scoffed to himself and turned back around to face her, feeling like his heart had been impaled even more so just by the distraught look on her face.

No, don't feel sorry for her. She brought this on herself, she's not the victim... you are.

"How could you do this to me, Julie?" He questioned, the crack in his voice betraying his strong facade.

"Michael, I can explain everything–"

"No you can't!"

"Michael, please let me ex–"

He looked her in the eyes once more but this time with a ferocious anger, a look Julie had never seen him possess ever. She never knew he was even capable of looking at someone with such resentment.

"Get out."

"Micha–"

"I said, get out."

She looked at him pleadingly, willing him with her eyes to let her explain. To tell him the truth. He only shook his head in response.

She allowed the tears to flow freely, numbly nodding her head before moving to leave. She looked at him one more time, for the last time, memorising his face and eyes, closing her own briefly and then, she left.

- . - . - . - . - . - . -

She should've known nobody would want someone like her. She was nothing more than a streetwalker in disguise. It didn't matter if the clients asked for her company or if she didn't even walk the streets at night, she was essentially just a streetwalker.

She had thought Michael would've understood. At least sympathised, but she was wrong. She was confused and upset by his reacting, heartbroken too obviously. It was selfish of her to think he would forgive or even look at her without disgust again, she knew that.

He didn't even give her a chance to explain, to defend her career or her reasoning to it, that hurt... but the look on his face hurt the most.

You're nothing to him now. You mess everything up, like usual.

She wiped the wetness underneath her eyes and took a breath, steadying her breathing before walking into the building that harboured the people she hated most. The ones who had ruined her life.

This was her life.

- . - . - . - . - . - . -

INSPIRED BY 'WHO IS IT' BY MICHAEL JACKSON
WRITTEN BY SIÂN/shamones

SHORT AUTHORS NOTE:
My apologies if this turned out bad, but I tried my best.
Hope you enjoyed it!