𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏 ㅤ..ㅤ 𑣲ㅤ Michael fell for you the moment he saw you in the conference room. Since then, he’s been serenading you with letters. 𝗪𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 , 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗷𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲. 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁? see──masterlist.
info. ꨄ︎ 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗮𝗱 / 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗲𝗿𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀𝗼𝗻 × 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝙬𝙘. 𝟯𝟬𝟬. & michael serenades you a lot & is basically head over heels. 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝖼.
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 arrives hidden beneath your press folder, no envelope, and no name. Just folded cream paper tucked carefully between your notes before the conference begins. Your stomach drops immediately. Because you already know.
You glance around the crowded backstage press room instinctively, reporters talking loudly, cameras stacked everywhere, assistants rushing around with coffee trays.
Nobody notices you unfolding it beneath the table, Good.
You smooth the paper carefully open. Michael’s handwriting curls neatly across the page.
—
You looked at me differently today. At least I think you did. Maybe I imagined it. You always get quiet when I catch you staring. I like that about you. You know somethin’? Everybody asks me questions all day long, but you’re the only person who waits for the real answer.
That scares me a little. A lot actually.
I heard you didn't get lunch again. That’s twice this week.
Stop doin’ that.
And stop lookin’ so pretty when you’re concentrating because it’s making these interviews difficult for me.
I mean it. Yesterday during rehearsal I forgot lyrics because you walked in late carrying that little tape recorder against your chest. That never happens to me.
You’re distracting. I think you know that already though.
Ain’t fair.
I know you think this is a bad idea.
Maybe it is. But every night before interviews I still catch myself wondering what color you’ll wear. And every time you leave first after conferences I get irritated for the rest of the evening. That probably means somethin’.
You never answer my letters back.
I wish you would.
— M
Your heart pounds so hard it almost hurts.
This man is insane. Like Actually insane. “Five minutes till conference!” somebody shouts across the room.You fold the letter shut instantly, cheeks burning. This cannot keep happening... Seriously.
One wrong person sees these and your entire career disappears overnight.
You shove the letter deep into your notebook right as movement stirs near the hallway entrance.
And then—
Michael walks in.The entire room changes immediately, Reporters straighten, Assistants rush faster, Everybody suddenly becomes aware of themselves.
Meanwhile Michael enters calmly while security trails behind him.And despite the entire crowded room—he looks directly at you first.Your cheeks are heating.
What a fucking Dangerous man. You immediately look down at your notes pretending deep concentration.
But thats a little bit Too late.. Michael already saw you. Of course he did. The conference starts quickly after that. Questions fly everywhere.
Tour schedules. Awards. Album sales. Michael answers smoothly, charming everybody effortlessly.
But every few minutes, his eyes drift back toward you, And worse? You feel it every single time.
“So Michael,” another reporter asks loudly, “how do you handle all the attention from women during tours?”
The room laughs lightly, Michael smiles politely.
Then—
completely unfairly, his eyes flick toward you while answering.“I try behave myself.” Your pen nearly slips from your hand.
Idiot.
You refuse to look up again after that.The conference finally ends forty minutes later in a blur of camera flashes and exhaustion.
Reporters begin packing equipment quickly.You stand immediately too, desperate to leave before Michael gets any ideas.
“Excuse me,” a quiet voice says beside you. Your breath catches instantly.. Michael.
Very close to you already.
You turn quickly.
“M-Michael.” His security stands farther down the hallway purposely not looking over. Which somehow makes this worse.
“You got my letter,” he murmurs softly. Not a question.
You clutch your notebook tighter against your chest. “You need to stop doing that.”
“Why?” He copies your face expression. “Because somebody could see.”
Michael tilts his head slightly. “But they didn’t.”
“That’s not the point.” You look around you. A small smile touches his mouth. God.. that smile..“You read it though.” Your cheeks warm immediately again.
“You cannot write things like that to me.”
“Which part?” He teases. “All of it!” Michael laughs softly beneath his breath while leaning one shoulder casually against the hallway wall. Completely relaxed. Meanwhile your heartbeat is trying to kill you.
“I meant everything.” He says softly.
“That’s the issue.” His expression softens slightly after that.
Not teasing now. More real. “You really think I don’t know this dangerous?” he asks quietly. The hallway noise fades around you strangely.
You swallow hard. “Then why keep doing it?” Michael looks at you for a long second before answering.
And when he finally speaks—his voice lowers. Gentler now. “Because every time you walk away from me after these conferences...”
He pauses. “I think about you all night anyway.” Your chest aches instantly. Because no way the king of pop thinks about you all night.
“Michael.” You lowered your face.“Mhm?”
“We shouldn’t even be standing here.”
“I know.”
Neither of you moves. That’s the worst part. People pass through the hallway around you carrying equipment and paperwork while the tension stretches tighter between you both.
Then Michael glances briefly toward your notebook.
“You’re dress tonight,” he murmurs softly. Your stomach flips fast. “What about it?” His eyes lift back to yours slowly.
“That was mean.” You stare at him in disbelief.
“Mean?” You know damn wel what he means.
“You knew you looked pretty.” The words come so sincerely it almost ruins you.
You glance down the hallway quickly, panicked somebody might overhear.“Please lower your voice.”
Michael smiles softly at your reaction.
And somehow that feels even more dangerous. “You get nervous around me now,” he says quietly. “You make me nervous.” The confession slips out accidentally.
it went quiet for a minute.
Michael goes still for half a second.
Then he wanted to whisper something.
But The Second He comes closer, The photographer notices you both standing together—and your stomach drops.
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