Friends and Ice Cream—Michael Jackson
pairing—Thriller!Michael X Dancer!Reader
synopsis—Michael was walking down the streets looking for someone to talk to and he found you.
A/N: THANK YEW SAUR MUCH for 100 followers 🧑🩰🤎 and for the support 🙆♀️ i hope u guys like dis one its a short one as well, idk if i shud make dis a series so im just testing the waters yk…
You loved walking down the streets almost everyday, enjoying the scenery. People walking their dogs, neighbours having picnics, just people having fun in general because it shows how happy they are with people they’re comfortable with. Being in the moment and relishing it.
Except this time it’s different.
It’s the evening after a long day of work, choreographing a few pieces for your friend’s upcoming competition. It took hours and hours of practice for her to get the step but the amount of time repeating the same steps to her is starting to get to you, your muscles starting to feel sore and it's as if you have just started learning how to walk. Even so, you can’t miss the routine of walking down the streets like you always do.
Of course, you can't help but notice the good old ice cream truck parked right next to the road. Considering the countless times you’ve been getting ice cream from there, the ice cream guy has started to recognize you and even gives you free toppings from time to time. Well, keeping the business running too.
“Same flavour as usual I suppose.” He smiled, grabbing his apparatus. “I’ve got new toppings comin’ in next week, mind droppin’ by for a taste?”
“Y’know I drop by everyday.” You chuckled, crossing your arms watching him getting a huge scoop of the vanilla ice cream topped off with some sprinkles.
“What about you, young man?” He turned to the side, now paying attention to the guy wearing sunglasses and a hat who was standing behind you.
Who the hell wears sunglasses and a hat in an evening like this?
“I’ll…get the same thing as her, please.”
You turn to look, taking a glance at the guy who is now fidgeting with his fingers waiting for his dessert. He seemed like a new guy around the neighbourhood, or maybe he’s not new.
“Here you go, remember to come by next week.” The ice cream man winked as you grinned and handed him a few pennies for the ice cream.
As you walked away from the truck and continued your journey of strolling through the neighbourhood with ice cream in hand, you can’t help but notice how the man whose face was hidden from the sunglasses and hat was right behind you. He, too, was merely taking a stroll.
The hat is understandable on a certain level but both of those accessories as a combo? Definitely suspicious.
However, before you knew it—someone had tapped on your shoulder.
“Excuse me, sorry.” He spoke, expressions still unclear from the evident disguise.
“Yeah?” You turned around, fingers tightening around your ice cream cone.
“I was wondering—If you’d like to be my friend? Just, talk.”
It would be nice having a stroll with someone. Right? As long as he’s not a serial killer.
“Uh—sure? I mean, I don’t see why not.” You shrugged, trying to see him through his sunglasses.
“Perfect! I’m—“ He paused for a split second, biting his lips before he spoke. “Michael.”
“Okay Michael. I’m Y/N.” You extended your arm and shook his hand. “What brings you here? I’ve never really seen you around.”
His breath stilled, he obviously didn’t think this through and so, he got stuck on a thought whether he should just lie or blurt out the truth.
“Doing what?” You said as you both started walking together.
He braced himself, preparing for what's gonna come next. Usually, he gets bombarded with people asking him for his autograph or a picture with him after he’d tell them that he's the Michael Jackson.
Michael exhaled, keeping his head low. “Touring.”
As a choreographer, you’d obviously think that he meant touring as in going to places to teach choreographs, having workshops and such.
He paused. And so he thought that she’s gonna start overreacting. Does she not know? Did he finally find someone that doesn’t care who he is?
“I tour too, sometimes. Wait—tour doing what?” You turned to look at him and found a sense of familiarity behind those sunglasses, the way he walks and moves reminds you of someone. But you can’t quite catch who it is.
“Like singing. Um—I’m actually Michael Jackson.”
You choked on the words and started cackling. The idea of Michael Jackson tapping on your shoulder asking to be friends is funny. Really.
Looking at him with his disguise, it all made sense. He just wants a moment without any crowd swarming around him and camera flashing in front of his face.
You raised your eyebrows. “You’re joking aren’t you?”
Michael offered a slow heavy shake of his head, eyes looking at his feet. He then proceeded to take his glasses off, revealing his big brown eyes. The kind where you could spot it in a room full of people.
“Okay. Wow.” You nodded. What are the chances that an incredibly famous celebrity would ask you to be friends with them? It’s not often that you’d find people asking you to be friends with them as well, the most that they would do is wave their hand saying hi.
He was already priming himself to bolt.
“Isn’t it tiring though? Doing multiple shows in a week.”
Michael paused. He was expecting anything far from that.
“Yeah it is. Aren’t you—well, surprised that it’s me? Asking you to be my friend? To talk?” He responded, you could hear the release of tension in his voice.
There was nothing else you could say about that. It is indeed more than surprising. However, by the way he was talking, you could clearly sense that he just wants to be a normal guy. The way he tries to hide himself by speaking very softly, it's like he would be immediately put in the spotlight if he doesn't.
“Well, as someone who recently had finished hours and hours of moving my legs like there’s no tomorrow and not to mention that my muscles are really sore which I believe you would relate to it too,” You took a deep breath. “You just don’t care about what’s happening and I kinda knew that it was you. I thought I was just imagining things.”
Michael can’t control himself but to smile at the response from you. He hadn’t been able to get anyone to speak to him like that in ages. Every single conversation that he had felt scripted, akin to him putting on a performance.
He bobbed his head. “That’s true.”
“What made you want to be friends with me? Like I could’ve been a very very super duper quadruple huge fan of yours and start freaking out.” The thing is, you have been freaking out but you just know how to control it. Besides that, you’re too tired to care.
“It’s a guessing game. I noticed you getting ice cream so I thought—maybe it’s easier for me to talk to you.” Michael took a bite of his almost finished ice cream cone. “Talk about ice cream. You seemed close to the ice cream guy”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the statement.
“Okay we can totally talk about ice cream now. Let me tell you the story of how the ice cream truck is still there.”
Michael finally relaxed his shoulders. At last, there’s someone who’s willing to talk to him like a normal person. Not someone on stage singing the famous song “Billie Jean”.
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