Michael Jackson patted his head, trying to free his mind from those damn debts.
Perhaps as Pani said, the fundamental reason why he cannot pay off his debts and owes more and more is that he is not "popular" enough.
For example, it was 20 years ago that his album was a hit. At that time, his CDs could sell 1 million copies per month. However, his album last year only sold 2.1 million copies, and this year's album was even less, 660,000 copies.
Yu Zhang. Nowadays, the chance of signing a lucrative contract as he imagined in 1991 is slim. Even if the album sells millions, its net profit will only be 3 million US dollars, which can only meet the expenses of his family for 3 months.
If it's just an annoying thing like debt, that's it, but Michael Jackson's marriage to his second wife Debbie has recently experienced rifts.
God, the most important thing in Mike's life is his family, but his marriages are becoming more and more unhappy every time.
With a sigh, Mike turned and went upstairs. When he reached the corridor, he saw his personal doctor, Murray, walking out of his little daughter "Paris"'s room.
"My little angel, is she okay?" Mike asked Murray.
Paris has always had a fever these days, which makes Mike worried.
"Oh, it's nothing serious. I've checked her out. Her throat is a little red. It's just a common inflammation. She only needs to take medicine for two or three days and it will be fine."
"But she always has a fever in the middle of the night, and I'm so worried that I can't sleep." Mike's love for his daughter is clearly revealed from this sentence.
Murray smiled and said: "I have prepared some emergency special medicine for you. If she has a fever of over 38 degrees, you can give her half a pack. Well, remember, it must be half a pack, not too much...
...Also, if it is just a mild fever, it is best to wipe her forehead and lower abdomen with alcohol...These physical treatments are very effective."
"If it still doesn't work, can I call you?"
"Of course, dear Mike. I am your personal doctor. You can call me at any time, even in the middle of the night, I will rush over immediately." Murray smiled.
"Murray, thank you so much for saying that. Really." Mike hugged him gently.
Murray said: "It's you, Mike. Are you still suffering from insomnia recently?"
"Yes, damn insomnia, at night my mind is filled with all kinds of messy things. I can't close my eyes at all..." Mike said distressedly.
"You have too many things on your mind, Mike. You have to liberate yourself. Yes, you can no longer be bothered by those messy things, so that you can sleep more comfortably and be in better spirits."
Mike shook his head, "I can't do it. Really, sometimes I really want to die quietly like this. Maybe, then people will really respect me and get to know me again!"
Seeing that Mike was in such a low mood, Murray sighed and said: "Don't be stupid, dear Mike, you are a celebrity, you can't say such depressing words, you have to cheer up!"
Mike smiled bitterly, and then said: "You'd better give me some sleeping pills. Maybe I can have a good sleep tonight."
"You know I can't do this. You have become dependent on sleeping pills these days. They have serious side effects, so you must quit." Murray shook his head and rejected Mike's request.
"Please, Murray, just give me some more, just a little bit, okay? Look at me, I haven't had a good night's sleep in almost three days, and I don't want to have insomnia tonight," Mike said.
Murray shook his head again, "I really can't do this... Well, you'd better go in and see my dear little Paris. Goodbye Mike, remember to call me if you need anything..." Murray looked at
Mike sighed and left.
Mike looked at his back and shrugged, but he also knew that such a request would embarrass Murray. After all, as a private doctor, he shouldered a great responsibility.
Opening the door, little baby Paris was lying on the small bed, sleeping soundly.
Last night, little Paris, who was just over one year old, had a fever in the middle of the night and kept crying, which made Michael Jackson, who was already suffering from insomnia, even more tired and anxious.
At this moment, I saw my little baby sleeping so sweetly, occasionally opening his little mouth and smiling unconsciously, wondering what kind of sweet dream he was having.
For the first time, Mike felt a little more comfortable. He squatted down, held dear Paris' tender little hand, then put it to his mouth and kissed it gently, saying: "Baby, you will feel better soon."
Yes, yes, God will bless you, and I will be by your side to protect you."
Little Paris seemed to have heard her father's words and giggled in her sleep.
A ray of sunlight shines through the window and shines on Mike holding his daughter's little hand, making the scene look extremely holy.
…
The next day.
A ray of sunlight once again shines into the bedroom where Michael Jackson lives. The bedroom is very large, and the surroundings are designed to look like cartoon castles. Mike sleeps on a huge round bed. This big bed is somewhat similar to the one in the story of "One Thousand and One Nights"
The king's bed was gorgeous and luxurious.
Originally, as a bedroom, Mike should live with his wife Debbie, but due to the recent tension in their marriage, Debbie moved out and found another room to live in, and Mike returned to his lonely living life.
In fact, Mike longed for the warmth of family. He married Elvis Presley's daughter in his first marriage. The reason was that Mike admitted that he was a little bit vain and proud at that time. Just imagine being able to marry the daughter of the former pop king, Elvis Presley.
This is definitely a good story that can be spread in the music industry; but unfortunately, this marriage ended soon. Mike understood the gap between ideal and reality, and he began to find someone he really liked. At this time, as a female nurse, Mike
Debbie broke into his sight.
Debbie's warmth and concern for her patients were exactly what Mike needed. From a young age, he was like a prop in the family who was forced to make money. He performed on stage at a young age. Neither his mother nor his father had ever truly cared about him.
He has loved... maybe he has, but he has too many brothers and sisters. Even if this pitiful mother's or father's love is evenly divided, only a little bit of dregs will be left.
Mike is very lonely, very lonely. He longs for the warmth of his family. He hopes that someone can talk to him when he goes to bed at night. He hopes that there is someone around him who can take care of him and hold him in his arms when he is injured... Undoubtedly, Debbie is a
Very good choice.
After Mike and Debbie got married, they discovered that they were originally from two different worlds. He was used to living a luxurious and prosperous life, and many of his living habits were incompatible with Debbie. In particular, Debbie was very uncomfortable with being in the spotlight, and being exposed to anything.
People trace the lives of exposures.
The two gradually had conflicts. Debbie felt that he had a weird personality and was too immature. Such a grown-up person sometimes thinks about things like a child who has not grown up. In particular, she could not tolerate Mike's arbitrary king-like behavior.
Lifestyle. She protects her daughter Paris in every way, hoping that Mike can give them more love, but Mike is always bothered by a lot of messy things.
The rift grew bigger and bigger, until now, the two of them live separately to allow each other to calm down.
With these trivial matters in mind, how could Mike sleep on this king-like bed? Last night, he had another sleepless night, and he didn't close his eyes until dawn.
At this moment, Mike opened his dull eyes and looked at the thread pattern on the bed gauze. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
"Mike, can I come in?" It was the voice of agent Peter.
"Come in." Mike said, leaning on his arm.
Peter walked in, "Why, dear Mike, you had trouble sleeping again last night?"
"Yeah." Mike hummed slightly, "What's the matter?"
"There are two news, one good news and one bad news, which one do you want to hear first?" Peter smiled.
Mike moved his eyes away from the gauze curtain, looked at Peter and said, "You don't have to tease me anymore. Tell me, what are they all about?"
Peter shrugged, smiled uninterestedly, and said: "The bad thing is that Sony started urging you to hold a global tour earlier. Well, they hope you can play more shows this time and extend the time and intensity of the tour.
…”
"God, they are trying to kill me!" Mike said angrily, "Everyone knows how tiring a global tour is. After just one concert, I was exhausted. How much more do they want me to drive?
Games? 30 games, 40 games, or 50 games? Yes, I understand what they mean, no matter whether I live or die, as long as I can pay off the money I owe them. These damn bastards!"
Mike jumped up from the bed and threw pillows and quilts everywhere. It seemed that only by doing this could he vent his inner anger.
Peter didn't stop him. As Mike's manager, he was very aware of Mike's suffering. Maybe it would be better to let him vent.
After waiting for Mike to stop throwing things, smashing things, and breathing heavily, Peter said: "As for the good thing, the two personal websites you just established have exceeded 1.8 million fans in a few days, and the data is still there
It’s growing like crazy, so it can be seen that you are still the most popular King of Pop today.”
Is this good news?
Mike smiled bitterly. Others didn't know it, but he knew very well that in order to maintain these two newly established websites, he had to pay nearly 100,000 US dollars more in maintenance fees every month!
"Are there no other good things besides these?"
"What?" Peter didn't understand.
Mike is a bit embarrassed, but he is really short of money. Is face more important than money?
Taking a deep breath, Mike organized his thoughts and considered how to express his financial constraints and lack of money...
God, it's so shameful that the great King of Pop is so short of money!
