Magazine crush. ꫂ᭪݁ M. Jackson
Synopsis ꨄ︎ Michael is looking for a girl for his new music film 'thriller' he's been a fan of you for some time and decides to give you a call.
contains some inaccurate history events lmao but idc. fluff ! 𝜗ৎ
October 1983. Boston, Mass
ℐt was a Saturday evening, you had just taken the train back home. You lived in a nice apartment in Roxbury, and you loved it. This was home, this was your place. Your family lived around the way, but you wanted your own place. The streets were always alive, cars passed and taxis stopped in front of the sidewalks. Music was always somewhere nearby, coming from an open window, a corner store, or a neighbor who didn't mind sharing their favorite song with the whole block.
The noise was something you got used to. It was a reminder that no matter how loud life was, you still could make your own peace.
Your heels clicked against the stone pavement as you made your way down the sidewalk, the hem of your dress moving with the breeze. Michael Jackson played through your Walkman, mixed in with a few Donna Summers songs, two voices you never got tired of hearing. Your head gently bobbed along to the music, curls bounced with every step, still fresh from the salon. You had to keep up with your appearance. As a small-time model, looking put together came with the job.
Besides, your face was becoming familiar around the city. People recognized you from magazine ads, local campaigns, and the occasional billboard, earning you a few smiles and second glances wherever you went.
You got hollered at one time by Ronnie DeVoe while walking down the street to pick up a food plate, some cheesy Mac, yams, little bit of greens and some barbecue ribs. In all honestly, you still chuckle about the moment. It was a small funny interaction between the two of you. You turned him down however, you said you was focusing on your career.
Not too long ago, you were just another girl in Boston chasing a dream. Now, people were starting to recognize you, slowly but surely. Many loved your voice and just how natural you seemed. You weren't trying too hard to impress anyone, you were just yourself, and that was what people connected with. Your name became even bigger after you did that radio show. Oh, everyone loved it, of course they did, people love gossip.
"Everybody loves you Ms. Y/n, im talking bout you got people just walking up to you on the streets" the host said, chuckling. "What's yo secret?"
"Honestlyyyy?" you laughed, leaning closer to the microphone. "I'm just doing my thang, you know? I'm not gonna sit here and act like I got some big secret. I'm just being myself. I tell people a lil bit about me and if they like it, they stick with me."
"I like that, I like that," the host said, laughing. "You know, I heard Mr. DeVoe was talking to you..."
Your eyes widened slightly before you laughed into the microphone. You brushed a curl away from your face.
"Well... you heard right," you admitted, shaking your head with a smile. "I let him down slow. No disrespect to you, Ronnie—I love your band and your music. I just told him I'm working on my career you know?"
The host laughed. "So you turned him down?"
"Not like that, cmon now" you quickly added, laughing. "He's a sweet guy. I just wasn't looking for you a relationship or anything. I told him I appreciate the love, so we still cool you know. Like, alot of women my age, I think we should be focusing on our careers you know?"
"Right right, I feel you. Why rush?"
"Exactly," you said nodding. You bring up your hands slightly while talking, "I mean...if I meet somebody I meet somebody. If I don't thennn I got millions of other things I could spend time doing you know?"
You had no idea that a little moment would become one of those 'funny stories' people brought up later. Strangely after the interview you did, the song "Poison" would come out. You heard it and rolled your eyes, guess Ronnie felt some type of way.
Well, you're welcome for that hit Ronnie, you thought to yourself.
While you sat in your small apartment, hanging with friends and doing whatevs.....across the country, you had already caught someone's attention. You were just living life, not knowing that someone was flipping through your magazines, watching some interview clips, and thinking you might be exactly what he was looking for.
Michael sat in the break room, flipping through magazines like he always did during his breaks. It was something he enjoyed, seeing new styles, reading about artists, and keeping up with what was happening outside of his own world.
There was one magazine he always looked forward to, and there you were, right on the front page.
Michael paused, looking over the photograph with a small smile. As he flipped through the pages, he found a few more pictures of you, each one showing a different side of your personality. You stood out to him. You seemed like someone he would actually want to sit down and talk with. He was so caught up in the article that he didn't notice someone walking up behind him.
"You're smiling pretty hard," a voice teased. "You know her?"
Michael glanced up, letting out a quiet chuckle as he shook his head. "No," he admitted. "But I would like to."
"I've seen her before," Quincy replied, "Pretty girl." Michael agreed, looking back down at the magazine.
He flipped through the pages again, studying the photos, "You know, with the video coming up…" he began tapping his fingers lightly against the magazine. "I still haven't found the right person for the girl."
Quincy glanced over at him while sipping his coffee. "For Thriller?"
Michael nodded. "Yeah. I need someone who can you know," he looked back at the picture of you, "I think she could do it."
Quincy raised an eyebrow, amused. "You serious?"
"Well, the video is still being put together. We'd have to see if she's available, talk to her people, make sure the schedule works…"
Michael nodded, "I know."
"And you don't even know if she'd want to do it."
Quincy shook his head chuckling, flipping through the pages. "So you really have your mind set on her?"
Michael looked back at the photo. "Yeah," he said simply. "I think she'd fit." Quincy chuckled, handing the magazine back. "Alright, I'll see what I can find."
A few minutes later Quincy came back with a small paper slip in his hands. "Y/n l/n, the other number is her managers contact info" he said sliding the slip on the table. Michael continued looking over your photos.
I hope she says yes, he thought.
He then glanced at the phone number Quincy had written down. Calling someone he admired was easy when it was for business. But calling someone because he wanted to meet them? That was different.
"You nervous?" Quincy asked. Michael immediately looked up. "No," but the way his fingers tapped said something different.
Quincy raised an eyebrow, "I didn't even finish asking the question," he said, laughing. Michael smiled, looking away as he tucked the paper closer to him.
"You should probably call her later," Quincy said, giving his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Give yourself some time to calm those nerves."
Michael shook his head, laughing softly, "I'm not nervous." Quincy just smiled.
You got home around 7:43, still somewhat early. You finished another photo shoot, went to your favorite place to dance and eat then went home.
After kicking off your heels, you slipped out of your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the day. Once you were done, you moisturized with your mango vanilla balm, just like you always did.
Every day followed the same routine. Nothing too 'boom' you know, nothing out of the ordinary. You liked your moments, your little piece of peace after a long day.
Your brows lifted in surprise as you glanced over at the sound. You weren't expecting anyone. You walked over and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" you answered sweetly.
A handsome voice replied on the other end of the phone, though there was a slight nervousness behind it.
"Hello… um, is this Ms. Y/n l/n?"
Your brows lifted slightly. "This is her," you replied, "May I ask who's calling?" you leaned against the counter with the phone pressed to your ear.
There was a brief pause, like the person on the other end was gathering his words. "My name is Michael… Michael Jackson," he said softly.
For a moment, you were quiet. Then a small laugh escaped you. You shook your head, already convinced someone was playing a joke on you.
"Sure," you replied, trying not to laugh. "And I'm married to Sam Cooke. Have a good day."
You started to pull the phone away from your ear, ready to hang up, Whoever this was, they had a sense of humor. Because there was no way the Michael Jackson was sitting somewhere calling you on a Saturday evening.
But you heard the man speak again.
"Wait hol on i'm serious," he says quickly. You chuckled again and roll your eyes, still not convinced.
"Alright, i'll entertain it," you walk over to your counter and scoop out some ice cream. You take a scoop before talking again, "Go on Mr. Jackson."
On the other end, Michael smiled. He could already tell you liked to play around a lot. "I know it sounds strange," he admitted softly.
"I probably should've started with something else..."
You smiled to yourself, shaking your head a little. "Maybe so," you teased. "But go ahead and talk to me."
There was a small pause before he continued, almost like he was making sure he said everything right.
"Well I'm doing a video soon, and I would like for you to be a part of it. I was looking for someone to play the girl in the film, and I've seen your modeling work. I really love it."
You stayed quiet, listening.
"And actually…" he added with a small laugh, "I'm a big fan of yours. It's just been so hard trying to get in contact with you. I only just got your number today."
You blinked, suddenly feeling a little caught off guard.
Wait… was this actually serious?
The idea that Michael Jackson, the Michael Jackson had been trying to reach you was something you never expected to hear. Your heart skipped a little. You almost couldn't believe it. This was really him. The same Michael Jackson whose music played through your Walkman, who's records were in your apartment, the who you had admired for years, was now calling your apartment and asking you to be in his new music video.
Wait till you tell your mama.
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," you said with a small laugh, your nerves finally catching up to you. "M'sorry, it's not everyday I get a call like this, from someone so... you know" you chuckled.
"Someone like me?" he repeated with a small laugh. He then laid more comfortably in his bed, yes, he called you as soon as he got home. His feet were crossed as he leaned back against the pillows, socks still on.
"You don't have to think of me like that. I'm just Michael."
You rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself, "Oh, don't downplay yourself, Mr. Jackson."
"Michael," he corrected you softly. "Call me Michael."
You smiled at that, getting comfortable already. "And it's true," he continued. "I'm just like everyone else."
He looked up at the ceiling, "Besides, I thought you'd be used to calls like this. You've got this whole look about you, and it's…" He paused, searching for the right words. "It's something I think people would pay attention to," his voice softened.
Hearing Michael praise you was such a good feeling, one you could defteintly get used to. As a small time model, you'd never imagined someone like him would see your photos, let alone go out of his way to find you.
"So, you been watching me?" you chuckled against the phone.
Michael gave a nervous chuckle, in a way yes. More like reading into you, he had collected a few magazines from local stores that featured you even if it was just a clothing brand.
"In a way, yeah," he admitted. "Not like... watching watching you or anything," he quickly added, making you laugh. "I mean, I've just been keeping up with your work. I love art and fashion myself and well, you embody that."
"I've collected a few magazines that had you in them. Even if it was just a clothing ad or a small feature, I noticed you. I saw your interview too," he smiled to yourself. He found the whole thing between you and Ronnie pretty funny.
Your face suddenly felt a little warmer than before. It was cute hearing how much he admired you and your work. But of course he saw that interview. You let out a laugh, "Oh did you, ain't it crazy? And then he gonna release that lil song,"
"Yeah, catchy song. You gotta admit," Michael chuckled.
There was a small pause on the other end before you heard him quietly hum a few notes of the melody, almost like he couldn't help himself.
You immediately laughed. "Oh my goodness, are you really humming the song right now?"
Michael laughed, a little embarrassed. "What? I was just proving my point."
"Just over here chirping away..." you chuckled and shook your head. "But I mean… I guess I do, it's an interesting message cuz men be the same lil way too, but it's all good."
"You think so?" he asked, amused.
"Oh I know so, I know a few of em" you replied confidently, taking another bite of your ice cream. Michael sat up in his bed, suddenly more interested. Somehow, he had forgotten this was supposed to be a casting call.
"Well....now I gotta ask…" he said, a little teasing.
You let out a loud chuckle, already knowing what he was talking about. "Oh, you wanna hear the story?" you teased.
Michael laughed softly on the other end. "I mean… yeah. I do."
"I thought you called me about a music video, Mr. Jackson," you joked.
"Michael..." he said again smiling. "And I did, I just got curious."
That made you smile, and before you knew it, you were talking to Michael a little more, sharing a few stories about people you had met along the way. Michael laughed softly on the other end, clearly entertained.
"I ain't gonna say no names but then he..."
You tangled the phone cord around your finger, lost in the convo. There was something so easy about talking to Michael. A few minutes ago you were talking to a stranger, but now it just felt like you were talking to someone you knew for your whole life. Eventually you circled back to the main topic ahead.
"But honestly thank you so much Michael," you said, smiling as you took another bite of your ice cream.
"Youre welcome and well, this isnt weird, is it?" he asked, his voice a little unsure. "I don't want to, you know...make you feel rushed or anything. I know I just called out of the blue, but your work is just amazing. I love it alot."
"No, Michael, it isn't weird. It's actually very sweet of you," you reassured him. "And... I love you as well," you added. Before he could react, you quickly laughed. "Your work, I mean. I have a few of your records and even some magazines too."
You heard him laugh on the other end of the phone, a quiet, genuine laugh that made you smile. "Oh, really now?" he teased. "You got a favorite song of mine too?"
"Of course I do," you replied, settling into a seat yourself. You were starting to forget you were on the phone with Michael Jackson. It didn't feel that way anymore. It just felt like you were talking to some Michael you'd known all your life.
"I love 'I Can't Help It.' It just brings such a good feeling whenever I hear it. It has this… warm feeling to it." You smiled, thinking about the lyrics.
"They're so sweet. I don't know, they just make me happy."
There was a small pause on the other end. "Really?" Michael asked, sounding genuinely interested.
"Yesssss," you said. "It's one of those songs that just makes you smile."
Michael smiled to himself, his eyes falling to the comforter beneath him.
"Well, that makes me happy to hear. I always hope people feel something when they hear my music."
"You do a good job of it, Michael. You don't sing just to impress people… at least, I don't think you do. You sing from the soul," you felt your smile growing. "That's what I love about you."
The line went quiet for a moment, you sat up from the couch, "Michael?"
Michael blinked, "Yeah...i'm here," hearing this from you as such a high. It settled somewhere deep in his chest, warm and genuine. Out of all the compliments he'd received over the years, yours felt different. It wasn't about his fame or the records he'd sold. You had listened to him—really listened. Somehow, you understood exactly what he hoped people would hear whenever he stepped into a recording booth.
"Thank you," he said softly. "It....it really means a lot when you say that. I never wanted to make music just for people to hear it." He paused. "I always wanted them to feel it."
"So... hearing you say that...it makes me feel like I'm doing something right." Michael wanted to talk to you some more, but you were probably getting ready for bed. He then softly cleared his throat.
"Well…" he said, drawing the word out. "I guess I should probably get back to the reason I called. Will you?"
"Will I what?" you teased.
"Be in the video!" he replied, smiling. "Will you be my leading lady? I really can't picture anybody else anymore." You could hear the hopefulness in his voice. He really wanted you to say yes. Deep down, Michael had already started picturing it. The two of you on set, bringing the story to life, acting out the scenes while the music played around you. He could see the vision in his head—the way everything would come together. A small smile tugged at his lips as he imagined it, and he let out a quiet chuckle to himself. He hadn't even met you yet, and somehow he already felt like you would fit perfectly.
You let out a flustered laugh, "Yes of course, I would love to. Just let me know when."
He let out a relieved laugh, one you could almost picture through the phone. "I was thinking…" He hesitated for a second.
Your brows shot up. "Tomorrow?" you repeated, nearly laughing.
Michael winced a little at how quickly you said it. " Ah I know, I know," he chuckled. "It sounds sudden. But we've been trying to get everything together, and I'd really like for you to meet everybody. No pressure if it's too soon."
"Plus if you need anything, I wouldn't mind giving it to you," he added on.
Hearing that made your face burn a little more. There was something about the way he said it, so casually, like helping you was the easiest thing in the world.
"Like what Michael?" you teased.
He gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, well, you know… anything. Like makeup, food if you get hungry and, uh…" He paused, thinking for a moment. "Wait, have you ever been to Los Angeles?"
"No, I haven't," you admitted. "Heard it's nice."
Michael smiled brightly on the other end of the phone. "It is. I could give you a tour if we have time. Which we will. I can probably show you my llama too"
You make a face before chuckling, "You have a llama??"
Michael laughed, "Yes I just got him, Jermaine took me to get him. His name is Louie, he's a good one. Very sweet."
"I would love to meet Louie," you chuckled, "You know i've always wanted a panther, I find them so cute."
"A panther?" he chuckled.
"Yes," you said, laughing. "They're cute."
"Cute" Michael repeated, amused.
"Don't laugh!" you say chuckling. You laughed yourself, it did sound ridiculous but that's what you wanted.
"I'm not laughing," he said, though you could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm just trying to imagine you with a panther, a sight," he chuckles.
"I'm sure you would think so," you teased. "However, what time should I be ready tomorrow?"
Michael paused for a moment, thinking.
"Um… I'd say around 9:45am? I don't want to rush you or anything. A car will come pick you up and take you to the airport. I may or may not be there," he admitted with a small laugh. "It all depends on how things go tomorrow."
"Okay, sounds good. I'll be ready," you said, smiling. "Thank you again for this Michael."
"Of course," he replied softly. "I really can't wait to see you. You'll do great, I know you will. Just make sure you get a good night's rest, okay?"
"Okay Michael I will, you get a good nights rest too okay? Talk to you soon."
"Goodnightttt," you said songfuly.
Michael smiled as he gently ended the call. In a way, he seemed more excited than you. On the other line, you immediately started packing.
(old draft I wanted to get rid of lmao <3 not rlly proofread)
