~Urges Pt. 3 FINAL~

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~Brooklyn, March 1988 New York~

I knocked on the pale wooden door. I looked around at the dark and dreary hallway of my friends apartment building. It represented the same way I felt at this current moment.

Dark. And dreary.

I sniffled and tried to wipe my tears away as I heard footsteps approach the door. When the handle began to turn I straightened up and gripped my suitcase, tightly, with my right hand. The door started to open and I was faced with my friends boastful voice and The Jacksons 'This Place Hotel' blasting from her old speakers.

What perfect timing.

       "Yeah ma, the pizza guys here I'll have to...," She opened the door the rest of the way and paused mid sentence as she saw my face. Her hand holding her brick phone, fell a bit, before she blinked rapidly and snapped out of her shocked state.

       "I...I got to go mom, love you bye," She quickly finished before clicking the end call button and proceeding to throw the phone onto the couch behind her. She turned around and her eyebrows furrowed and she reached out to grab my arm.

       "Hi," I squeaked out as tears began to fill my eyes again. She immediately dragged me and my luggage inside and shut the door behind us.

       "Oh my god, Y/N, what happened?" She asked me, concern laced in her voice. I opened my mouth to speak but all that came out was a weak gust of air before I sobbed tears flowed down my face like a waterfall.

She seemed panicked as she took a step back and her eyes surveyed the situation. She rapidly ran around the small apartment and grabbed blankets and pillows. She then grabbed me again and set me down on the couch, throwing the blankets over to me.

       "You," She spoke bluntly. I blinked my tears away and for a split second, before my eyes were fogged again, I saw her looking to me seriously.

       "Stay. I'm going to get some ice cream and hot cocoa, because honey, you're in dire need of a girls night," She told me sassily, as she motioned her finger towards my current state.

I laughed and rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands and nodded as she ran off into her kitchen. I sat there, listening to silverware clinking and the refrigerator opening and closing. As silence filled the small apartment I began to get lost in my thoughts. My eyes began to fill again and I leaned my head back as though to force them back inside me.

       "Why did this have to happen to me," I whispered towards the ceiling. "What kind of God are you?" I chastised, feeling hopeless.

Michael is probably with Tatiana right now. She's better than you, that's why he didn't care enough to follow you when you left. You were just there to lie with him, not be with him.

I wasn't even making sense, but the feelings hurt all the same. I covered my face with my hands and took deep breaths to calm myself. Willing myself to force the thoughts that filled my mind away for even a brief moment.

I tried to focus on the sounds of the teapot that Y/F/N was boiling for the hot cocoa. The faint sound of the cars driving and honking outside. But all I could hear was Michael's pleading voice in the back of my head.

~ "You said you'd never leave me!" ~

I groaned and clenched my eyes tightly.

       "I had a feeling you would be back here, but not this soon," Y/F/N laughed out as she entered the room with two cups in her hand and a jug of ice cream.

She looked to me and and sat up. I could feel that my eyes were puffy and my nose was stuffed up.

       "Hold on a second," She spoke as she set down the items that were in her arms. She ran back into the kitchen and I heard her rummaging through her cabinets. I reached out and picked up the cup of cocoa and took a slow sip of the hot drink.

I heard her run back into the room and when I looked to her she was carrying a bottle of vodka in her hands.

       "Seems to me you're gonna need some of this," She told me knowingly as she poured some of it into my cup of cocoa. I scrunched my nose and she winked at me jokingly trying to lighten the mood. I couldn't help but laugh as I set down the cup onto the table.

       "Now who's got you looking so down?" She asked me as she sat down next to me. I took a deep breath and looked up towards her ceiling trying to blink away my tears.

       "Remember how I told you yesterday that I had something going on with someone?" I asked her.

       "Oh yeah, the dreamy boy?" she teased and I gave a flat laugh. I looked down and shook my head.

       "Yeah, well last night...things kind of went downhill," I breathed out sadly. I looked over to her with a frown and her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

       "What happened?" She asked me softly. She set a supportive hand on my shoulder and I quickly reached out and took a long sip of my vodka-cocoa infused mix. It burned slightly as it went down but I felt some stress release from me.

       "I'm gonna need a lot more of this," I joked and she gave me a sad smile.

Then I explained everything.

I told her about every late night and every moment. When I met him and who he was. How long we've been 'together.' The rules we made, the jealous moments, the mixed feelings, the confusion I felt. Everything I felt, everything I saw, I told her about. And although it hurt so bad to admit some of the things that occurring, like Tatiana's place in the story, it felt as though a weight was being lifted off my shoulders because I could finally confide in someone.

Because Rule #1 no longer applied.

None of the rules applied anymore.

When I finished I had a waterfall of tears streaming down my face and Y/F/N was holding me in a supportive and motherly embrace.

       "Everything's going to be ok," She soothed as she rubbed my back. I sobbed into her shoulder as she continued.

       "Forget about him, he's an asshole," She told me. I laughed and remembered every time we would get out of a bad relationship that's all we ever said about the guy.

But this time there was a problem.

       "But he's not, he's not like the others Y/F/N," I told her as I pulled away from her embrace. She looked to me with a frown on her face and reached over to hand me a box of tissues. I grabbed one and blew my nose before grabbing another and wiping my eyes.

       "Maybe not," She started. "But he doesn't deserve someone like you." She stated strongly. I shook my head and fiddled with the tissue in my fingers.

       "We're going to get your confidence back," She told me. "And you're gonna be like yourself again, without him." She boldly spoke.

I looked up to her, ready with thousands of retorts in my head about how wrong she is.

But the look on her face. The tone in her voice.

Even had me believing for a moment.

That I could.

-------------------------------------------

After that night Y/F/N helped me find my way again. She went with me back to L.A. and moved in with me. The minute I walked into my practically unused apartment, I broke down again. All the memories of traveling the world with Michael and barely having time to be home flooded into my mind.

But Y/F/N wasn't having any of it and immediately helped me decorate my desolate apartment into a home.

She got me back on my feet and working again over the next few months. I started with a few smaller artists, helping formulate their schedules and planning events. But soon enough I was broadening my horizons from singers to actors. I started working behind the scenes in the crews for movies and being a part of bigger projects due to the connections I had made in the industry.

Francis Ford Coppola, who I met when he was directing the Captain EO film, invited me to co-direct with him for his movie that was coming out in March of 1989 New York Stories. It was such an amazing project to be apart of and I found myself gaining interest in it every day.

But even though my whole life seemed to be coming together over the next few years, I still found myself lost. Like something was missing from my life. Something big. And for the next three years I pushed back what I knew would fill that hole in my heart. And I was succeeding very well.

Until the 1991 Academy Awards.

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~March 25, 1991 Academy Awards~

       "And the Oscar goes to...," The announcer, Barbara Streisand, opened the small envelope. I gripped the fabric of my dress tightly as the deafening silence filled the grand arena.

       "Dances with Wolves, Jim Wilson, Kevin Costner, and Y/N Y/L/N" She proclaimed. Claps and cheers erupted from the crowd as I jumped up from my seat and threw myself into the arms of my co-producers Jim Wilson and Kevin Costner.

       "We did it! Oh my god we did it!" I cried out into their ears. I heard Jim laugh loudly as he squeezed me one last time. We pulled away and I looked up at them with a twinkle in my eye as I beamed at them with a wide smile at the excitement surrounding us.

       "Million dollar smile right there Y/N, literally," Kevin joked as he nudged me with his arm. I narrowed my eyes, jokingly at him but I couldn't hold back the smile that grew on my face.

       "C'mon guys, move your asses, we gotta get on stage," Jim spoke as he pushed our backs towards the stage. My mouth formed an 'O' and I shuffled in my heels towards the stage. I lifted my flowing red dress as we ascended the stairs to accept the award together.

As we approached Barbara she kissed me politely on the cheek whispering a 'congratulations' into my ear before handing me the award. I looked at in shock and disbelief. Never did I think I would be holding an Oscar that, I, had earned, let alone holding an Oscar at all.

After the quick congratulations were finished we all approached the mike and Jim walked over to my side, squeezing me into a quick side hug as we waited for the clapping to stop

       "Oh my gosh, I didn't drink any water, was smart," Jim started as the audience laughed.

       "I would like to thank the academy members, for the culmination of what has been won, incredible dance for me over the past four years in all of us. To a cast and crew, we never said never we can't do it..." Jim spoke with cottonmouth and I refrained from laughing with a large smile on my face.

He continued to thank the production company and his family as well as his friends who supported him through this time.

Next up was Kevin who had a small speech written up and nervously began to speak about some of the struggles in his life and the disbelief people had in our movie. But we were something to be remembered. Once he was finished he turned to me and offered me the mike.

I smiled anxiously and stepped up, the crowd erupting in appreciative applause. I smile up at the crowd and bit my lip before speaking.

       "Hi," I spoke nervously with a small wave. "So used to being behind the scenes, feels like I'm going into shock," I joked. The crowd began to laugh and I felt some of my fear dispersing.

       "I would like to firstly thank all of the amazing cast and crew members who made this movie possible. As well as my incredible co-producers who worked diligently with me to make this movie a success," I spoke, motioning towards Kevin and Jim. They smiled at me and nodded.

I turned back to the mike to speak and surveyed the crowd while I waited for their applause to become stagnant. When I reached the front row of people, lost in thought of what I would say next, I froze. My whole body becoming like a sculpture. My eyes widened and the person I looked at looked at me in shock as well.

I was staring at Michael.

He was sitting next to Madonna in a pristine white suit with black scaled pants. His hair was in it's usual curls and a large belt buckle sat on his waist. I felt my cheeks flush and thanked Y/F/N who forced me to do a whole face of makeup before I left.

My mind reeled and I started to think back to Madonna's performance and the way it felt as though she was performing for someone. I realized it was for him and I felt something in my chest squeeze. I can't lie that I tried to move on from Michael, but I found after the first year of Y/F/N forcing me to go out to bars and on blind dates, that I was unable to. But it seems like he did.

And that hurt. A lot.

I felt a nudge towards my arm and fell out of my shock and shook my head, blinking rapidly to focus. I turned back towards the mike and took a deep breath.

       "I...I would also like to thank my friend Y/F/N, she helped me through a very rough past few years and helped me never give up on my work and accomplishing things...well... like this," I spoke, struggling to avert my eyes from Michael. But I couldn't help myself and peaked at him as I spoke and saw a guilty look crossing his features.

       "Thank you so much to everyone who's been supporting this and thank you to the academy and to the public for enjoying this movie as much as we did," I laughed out and ended my speech.

The crowd began to applaud again as we began to exit the stage. The camera turned and I took a last chance to peak back at Michael who was watching me walk off. I looked into his deep brown eyes and found a fuzzy feeling growing in my chest all over again.

Why does he have to make me feel this way?

The past few years I've struggled with forming any sort of relationship because I never felt a strong feeling towards them. I never felt the feeling Michael made me feel with just one glance my way.

I broke out of my stare when Jim wrapped an arm around my shoulder and we began to get out of the crowds eye. We took photos and shook more people's hands as they congratulated us on our awards. I plastered a smile on my face each time but found myself losing more and more of the excited energy I once felt, as Michael consumed my thoughts.

Soon everyone began to exit the building and made there way to Spago's, a restaurant where Swifty Lazar's Oscar party was being held. When we arrived there were photographers surrounding every entrance, trying to get a photo for their front cover. We all covered our eyes and ran inside.

The restaurant was beautiful. It was covered in gorgeous bouquets and the tables were neatly made for each guest who would enter. I never thought I would be in a position of this caliber and it felt surreal.

All different celebrities filled the seats and it felt like I was almost, out of place.

       "C'mon Y/N, let's go sit down over there," Kevin whispered into my ear over the loud conversations filling the room. I nodded to him and we all moved over to where our families sat with peers of ours. 

Jim and Kevin immediately came up with conversation, but I was so lost in my thoughts I didn't find it in me to contribute. That is, until I saw a close friend of mine standing off to the side talking to people.

Francis Ford Coppola.

       "Please excuse me for a moment," I spoke as I began to get up. The group of people at my table gave me a smile and continued their conversation. I walked towards Francis, grabbing a glass of champagne on my way.

He turned and spotted me and a large smile spread on his face.

       "Y/N! Congratulations!" Francis spoke wholeheartedly. He pulled me into a strong hug and I felt a bit of weight being lifted off my chest.

       "Thank you," I breathed out. "And congratulations to you as well, you probably got the best actors I've seen in a long time," I told him truthfully. He waved me off, passively with a smile.

       "And I wouldn't have been able to do this without you, you offered me a job when I knew absolutely nothing about this business, so I'm indebted to you," I told him, speaking poshly towards the end.

He laughed and rested a hand on my shoulder.

       "Cheers to many more years of success to us both," He spoke, raising a glass. We clinked glasses and I went to take a sip.

       "Cause I'm definitely getting to old for this," He said before drinking his drink. I immediately lowered my drink and looked to him in disbelief.

       "C'mon, you don't look a day over thirty," I told him, nudging his shoulder. He burst out into laughter and everyone in the room looked over to us. I blushed wildly but couldn't help laughing as well.

       "You're too kind, but wait till you're fifty two and you'll see kid," He wiggled his finger at me with a smile and I rolled my eyes playfully.

I looked down and laughed. But my eyes soon shot to a hand resting on my shoulder. I followed the hand, up the arm, and soon I stared into the brown eyes I so vividly remember.

       "Can I talk to you?" Michael's soft voice whispered as he leaned over. I felt his breath fanning over my ear and I felt my spine tingle.

       "Alone?" He finished before motioning behind me at an unknowing Francis. I swallowed and furrowed my eyebrows in thought.

Is this a good idea?

       "I...I don't know if that's a good idea Michael," I told him truthfully, a waver in my voice. His face fell slightly and I felt a pain in my chest at the sadness in his eyes.

       "Please, just for a moment," He pleaded. I bit my lip and looked over to my table where my colleagues were happily celebrating and breathed out a sigh. I turned back to Michael and rubbed my eyes. I opened them and looking straight into his.

       "Ok, five minutes Jackson," I stated strongly. He nodded and quickly grasped me hand, leading me up the stairs of the building.

We walked past tables and waiters who walked around carrying expensive meals for guests. Soon I found myself crossing through the kitchen, seeing people cooking with intense concentration. I almost ran into Michael as he abruptly stopped walking. I peered around him to see the head chef and owner, Wolfgang Puck, standing there, unlocking a door for us.

       "Thank you for letting us up here, I really appreciate it," Michael spoke smoothly with kindness in his voice.

       "No problem, anything for you Michael," Wolfgang spoke in his deep accent. Michael smiled at him and lightly tugged me towards the door. I looked towards Wolfgang and gave him a small smile, he winked at me before shutting the door behind us. I furrowed my eyebrows.

That was a bit weird. Why was he winking at me?

We ascended the staircase and I soon realized why.

A small table was set up on the roof of the restaurant and candles were lit around it. Flowers were around the rooftop and it looked almost like a scene from a movie. Ironic, right? I looked around and realized we were high enough above the ground that no paparazzi would be able to spot us. We were all alone.

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