Warnings: none for this one but this is the first part to an angst involving MJs relationship with Diana Ross.
Desc: this part is simply to establish reader's relationship to Michael. Nearly 2,000 words
PS: readers nickname is Honey in the industry-meaning many people will refer to them as this. this just makes it easier for me when writing!
1980 was when you first met Mr. Jackson.
You and a few other stylists helped with a lot of his public appearances for his hit album off the wall. You specifically remembered the intense feeling of fixing his cute little (actually rather big) bow tie before he walked out on stage at the American music awards.
But now, two years later, you were getting a call from Michael’s manager...
“Oh hello Mr. DiLeo! How are you?”
In all honesty you had been expecting his call after hearing through the grapevine he wanted you as Michael’s stylist for some photo shoots regarding his newest album Thriller. But of course it was only rumors. After a bit of small talk you clear your throat.
“So Frank. What can I do for you?”
“Well as ya know Thriller has just been released and it’s already incredibly successful. I brought it up to Michael- he needs to prepare for more photoshoots, award shows and all that. And when we were discussing this, Michael mentioned your name.”
You felt your heart beat skip. You were a rather successful stylist, working with many big name artists. But to work on an entire album and era for Michael Jackson- that’s the dream.
“Really? Well I have to say I’m flattered”
“Hah I’m sure! Michael was raving bout how much he enjoyed your assistance and work with Off the Wall. He said ya really made him feel at ease y’know? But uh- that’s why I’m call’n you. Michael would really like it if you could come work with us for a few shoots. And if things go well, maybe even become one of our main stylists.”
Dear lord I’m blessed beyond belief.
“Yes!”You sound way too excited, so you take a breath and restart“Yes, I’d be happy to- working with Michael was wonderful I’d love to be on staff again.”
And just like that you became apart of Michael’s crew. Working with other stylists, makeup artists, his manager, and of course Michael himself. Any public appearance Michael had during his thriller era you probably took part in. You were young but damn good at your job.
“Michael quit touching your hair..” you chuckle watching the way he pulled at strands of curls hanging in his face. “Ugh I can’t help it, the hair dresser made it all too.. too much” his hands move around the front of his hair in circular motions, lots of hair had been pushed to the front. Michael was always incredibly particular about his look. Every detail was important, down to the sequin.
Hot mist blows around your hands as you pinch the end of Michael’s pant leg. You finish steaming the pants and stand up, noticing he’s still squirming and fiddling with his hair. Air exhales through your nose as you laugh. “Here, take a seat and I’ll fix it. Just don’t tell your hair stylist.” Michael sits down eagerly and his nose scrunches as you rewet the front strands of his hair, the water from the spray bottle cold to his skin. You brush back a few of the curls delicately then lock them in with some product. Next you finger curl each strand that was left now in his face to make perfect little rings.
“Ah yes! You always get it exactly how I see it in my mind.”
Seeing Michael’s eyes lighting up as he looked in the mirror was always the best reward. His face gleamed with pride.
“Michael you’re on in 15!”
A voice called from around the hall and you see the sequined man stand up. “Alright im gonna go warm up,” he adjusts his collar and looks over at you with a smile “uhm.. would you mind standing side stage with Frank and the mic techs and everyone. Incase I need a touch up or a wardrobe malfunction or something?”
It was funny how he’d ask for things so politely, as if he wasn’t your boss. As if your entire job wasn’t fixing, altering, and dressing him. As if you’d even say no to anything he’d ask.
“Of course Michael- that’s literally my job”
“I-I know!” A sweet laugh sounds “but-
Y’know I just, I just want you close. I trust you to keep me looking my best.”
Warmth spread across your face. It was always so flattering to hear such praise. Especially from him.
You reassure him and pat his shoulder signaling him to go.
Michael is up on the stage performing his heart out and every single person there has their eyes locked on him. Moving swift and singing passionately, it’s like he was just floating on the stage.
The crowd erupts in cheers, yelling and booming applause. You jump up and down excitedly as you and Bill clap for Michael as well. His first big solo performance. And this is the night that marked your place as Michael’s head stylist.
“The Grammys Honey, can you believe the days already here?”
Michael had been smiling all afternoon, so much so you could only assume his cheeks were sore.
A cold needle rolled between your lips as you pushed your tongue against it, pushing it to the corner of your mouth. “I’m glad to get it over with- every day I add or make an alteration to this damn jacket-“ you had adopted Michael’s mindset that everything can always be improved. “Well I think you’ve done a great job”
Warmth spreads over your cheeks and you smile proudly. “Thank you.. now, let’s put on the brooch.” You pick up the beautiful piece of jewelry and unclasp it, then slide your fingers under the sequined navy jacket. As youre delicately placing the accessory as not to mess up any of the hand placed sequins.
A crackled noise of him clearing his throat. “Honey.. I’d really love it if you’d came with me tonight- well I know you’re already going but. I’d like it if you sat with me and Bill and my sisters.” You smile and let go of the glimmering brooch.
“I just want all of you close to me, you’re the people who support me most.”
“Of course Michael id be honored” he grins even more and wraps you in a tight hug. Your heart is beating slightly faster.
Laughter threatens to slip past your lips as you watch Michael look around with his sun shades on. You found it a bit cute and funny when he wore them, his attempt at being slightly mysterious was only amusing to the people who knew him well.
The room was lively and everyone seemed to be on edge. We were only about 20 minutes in when he won his first award best male pop vocal performance for thriller. And the night only got better. He’d finish the night with eight Grammys. EIGHT- Grammys. He stood up on the stage holding them in his arms with that big beautiful grin on his face. You held Bills hand tightly and wiped away a couple tears as you watched him up on stage with his sisters. And when he fulfilled a promise by removing his sunglasses you laughed. You were so proud.
After they exited stage you stood up to meet Michael and when you saw him he scooped you up in a hug, literally lifting you off the ground. “Oh Michael I’m so happy for you! I’m so proud!”
Sequins scratch at your arms lightning from you holding onto him so tightly. You feel his head tilt slightly and lips are pushed lightly onto your cheek, his gloved hand reaching up to hold the back of your head. “I couldn’t have done it without everyone else, without support, without you-“ you feel his lips on your cheek turn into a toothy grin and you laugh. He was so incredible.
Finally he sets you down and walks you back to your seats.
Long night later you’re riding back with Michael. Low lighting from the street lamps flash in and out through the windows and a distant hum of the quiet radio nearly lulls you to sleep.
You feel Michael’s hand gently tap yours before rubbing it with his thumb. The coldness of the window disappears as you lift your head up. “Hm?”
“Would you like to.. to become my personal assistant? It’d be a bit more work and you’d be traveling with me more but, if you’d like to take the job, I’d love to have you by my side for even more creative decisions.” A gentle squeeze on your hand. “I trust you so much.. and your input is very important to me. I couldn’t think of someone better for the job.”
It takes you a moment before you’re able to process everything he’s said but finally you lift your arm up, trying to cover your mouth to hide your huge grin. But Michael’s hand gently stops you. His eyes searching yours. “Yes Michael- id love to! God yes!”
You may have been a friend of Michael’s, but that didn’t change the fact that you admire him greatly and are honored that he trusts you so much.
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