🌼 Before the world took you - Part 5🌼
You can read part one here , part 2 here, part 3 here and part 4 here
Pairing: Michael Jackson x Fem!Reader
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Romance, Drama, Angst, Comfort, Emotional Healing. Will eventually progress towards 18+content
Era: Begins during the early Thriller era (1982–1984) and follows Michael and Reader through multiple stages of his career.
Reader Background: Female Reader (Y/N), childhood friend of Michael and close to the Jackson family since childhood.
Plot: Before he was the biggest star in the world, he was simply Michael. Having grown up alongside the Jackson family, Reader becomes Michael's closest friend, confidante, and safe place. She witnesses the struggles behind the spotlight, the pressure of fame, and the sacrifices required to become a global icon. As Michael's success continues to grow, so does the distance between them. Determined to maintain a normal life of her own, Reader begins pulling away, unaware that both of them are starting to feel the absence more deeply than either wants to admit.
A slow-burn friends-to-lovers story spanning years of friendship, sacrifice, missed chances, and a love hidden in plain sight.
⚠️Content Warnings: References to emotional and physical child abuse //Discussions of trauma and childhood hardships//Emotional angst// Fame-related stress and public scrutiny//Tabloid harassment and invasion of privacy//Slow-burn romantic tension//Occasional emotional conflict
This story is intended as a fictional romantic drama and does not claim to accurately portray real-life events or personalities.
Author's Note: Please remember that this is a work of fiction inspired by a public figure. While some real-world events and timelines may be referenced, the story itself is entirely fictional. I also might not be following every aspect in cronological order. Constructive feedback is always welcome. ❤️
I also just wanted to take a moment to say thank you for reading. I'm not a professional writer by any means. In fact, most of the time I'm simply a person with too many ideas, too many feelings, and a vivid imagination trying to turn them into words. Some chapters come easily, others take forever, but I genuinely love creating stories and sharing them with all of you. This story was meant to be a short story, but as I go along, I noticed I am turning it almost into a novel. I can`t help it.
This story started as a simple idea and has slowly grown into something much bigger than I originally planned. Watching these characters take on lives of their own has been one of the most enjoyable creative experiences I've had in a long time. And I intend this fanfic to be long with lots of drama filled with emotions and nostalgia.
Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read, like, reblog, comment, or send messages. Every interaction means more than you know and motivates me to keep writing, even when I sometimes doubt myself.
And please remember: this is all just for fun. I'm learning as I go, making mistakes, changing things, and figuring out the story alongside you.
If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave a comment and let me know. I'd be happy to add you to the tag list. ❤️
Thank you again for spending your time with this little story of mine.
Love,Your friendly overthinker and Michael Jackson enthusiast ✨
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The front door opened and Michael pulled away immediately. The world came crashing back into place all at once. Your heart dropped instantly as you saw Eric stood in the doorway. For a moment nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The silence felt unbearable. Michael looked mortified, and you felt sick to your stomach.
"Eric… I didn`t know you`re here" The word barely left your mouth.
He didn't answer. Instead he stepped off the porch slowly and purposefully. Walking straight toward Michael. Your stomach tightened instantly. For one terrible second, you thought he was going to punch him. Michael seemed to think the same thing. He took a step bak, and his shoulders tensed up. Not in preparation to fight, but in preparation to take it. Eric stopped in front of him, close enough that neither of them could avoid the other's eyes. The silence was unbearable.
"Eric, please….” You stepped forward, desperate to stop whatever was about to happen. But Eric lifted a hand to stop you. His eyes never left Michael.
Michael swallowed hard and somehow said quietly “I'm so sorry, Eric” The words sounded painfully genuine.
"I'm sure you are." Eric`s voice remained calm. That frightened you far more than yelling would have.
"I don`t know what happened, I wasn`t thinking…” Michael was trying desperately to ecxplain.
“You’ve got the nerve to show up here.”
Eric took another step forward.
“You’ve got the fucking nerve to buy her flowers and take her on a date”
Michael looked away. Feeling every bit of guilt. And for some reason that only made Eric angrier.
The laugh that escaped Eric sounded almost broken.
“Don’t stand there looking guilty.”
His voice even sharper now.
Michael stood motionless on the porch. He wasn’t arguing. He wasn’t defending himself. If anything, the longer Eric spoke, the more uncomfortable he looked.
And somehow that made everything worse. Because Eric didn’t want guilt. He didn’t want apologies. He wanted a reason. A reason why months of trying hadn’t been enough. A reason why you were still choosing Michael.
A shove landed against Michael’s shoulder. Hard enough to force him back a step.
“You had her your whole life and never made a move.”
Michael stumbled slightly. Still refusing to react. Still refusing to fight back. And that only made Eric angrier.
The last shove carried more force than the others.
Michael lifted his hands slightly.
“Eric…please stop” You tried to intervene and tried to place yourself between the two men, but before anyone could react, Eric grabbed the front of Michael’s jacket. The movement was pure impulse. Michael was being pulled forward until they were nearly face to face.
“You can`t stand that she`s with someone else, can you?.”
Eric`s grip tightend, forcing Michael even closer. For the first time, Michael looked genuinely shaken. Then Eric said before a final shove, making Michael almost loose his balance: “I think you should leave."
For a second Michael simply stared,as though he hadn't expected that. Instead Eric simply repeated himself.
“I think you should leave." This time there was steel underneath the words as Eric took another step closer towards Michael.
You immediately stepped forward. “Eric, stop."
Neither man looked at you. Michael backed up. The guilt written all over him.
"Eric, I...” Whatever Michael intended to say died halfway out. Because Eric shook his head.
"No. This isn't a conversation I want to have tonight. You need to leave NOW!
Michael lowered his eyes. Then slowly he nodded and accepted it. Because deep down... He knew Eric had every right.
Michael looked at you for a brief second. A thousand unspoken things passing between you through that very moment. Without another word, he stepped away from the porch and you watched him go. You wanted so much to stop him, but you also knew you couldn't. And a few moments later, the taillights of his car disappeared into the darkness, leaving you alone with Eric. The silence that followed felt terrible. The porch suddenly felt too quiet. You stood there staring at the driveway, still trying to process everything that had happened. Eric stood beside you, and you barely dare look at him. When you finally did, you discover he was not as angry as he was hurt.
He didn't answer. Slowly he turned and walked back inside. You followed immediately.
He remained silent. He moved through the house mechanically. Almost like somebody operating on instinct.. Eventually he stopped in the living room, staring at nothing.
You swallowed hard. “Eric, please listen. I can explain."
The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Because even you didn't know how to explain it.
Eric laughed once. A hollow sound. Still not looking at you.
" You can’t explain this. I saw with my own eyes what happened. He kissed you, and you kissed him back.”
You felt your stomach twist.
"No. There is nothing to explain
He rubbed a hand across his face. You saw that he was looking every bit as tired as he sounded.
"I can't do this right now” he said, still avoiding to look at you.
You felt tears gathering.
"Eric, I am so terribly sorry. I didn`t mean for this to happen"
This time his eyes finally met yours. And the sadness there nearly broke you.
You immediately shook your head. As though you could somehow stop what was happening.
His eyes closed briefly. “I can`t handle this right now."
You took a step toward him but he stepped back.That movement hurt more than any argument could have. For several seconds neither of you spoke. Then Eric grabbed his keys from the table.
"Don`t Eric, please don`t"
"I can't be here right now." He repeated and his voice cracked slightly.
He headed for the front door and at the doorway he stopped. For a moment you thought he might say something else. Instead he simply stood there. Then nodded once. Mostly to himself. And opened the door.
A few moments later you heard his car start, and just like that he disappeared into the night.
The relationship you had spent months building had ended in the span of a kiss you couldn`t take back. A tear rolled down your cheek without you even knew you were crying. You wiped it away immediately, just for another teardrop to follow, and another. Before you knew it, you were burying your face in your hands and crying the type of crying when you heart had no idea what to do with itself anymore. You hated the fact that Eric would be sitting somewhere heartbroken tonight wondering why loving you had not been enough. The thought broke your heart and a sob escaped you. Yet still, you couldn`t regret the kiss. The contradiction was tearing you apart.
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Michael arrived at the studio ¨the next morning much earlier than usual. He was clearly sleep deprived because he hadn't slept. The previous night kept replaying in his head. The kiss. Eric. The look on Eric's face. He was out of his mind worrying about what happened after he left.
The studio was quiet. Only a couple crewmembers had already arrived, and they were busy preparing equipements. Coffee cups sat scattered across tables. Michael was normally not a coffee person, but somehow he was grateful for a cup of freshly brewed coffee this morning. He headed toward the piano and was met with the dreadful sight of several newspapers spread across the top. Of course the visit to the diner had not gone unoticed. Several pictures from the parking lot where he was reaching for your hand from the moment you both ran for the car. Another picture showed Michael turned looking at you while laughing.
The headlines seemed endless.
MICHAEL'S CLOSEST CONFIDANTE
CHILDHOOD FRIEND OR SOMETHING MORE?
"You've got quite the problem." The voice came from behind him. Michael turned. His manager Frank was holding yet another newspaper.
"Good morning to you too." Michael sighed, not feeling too excited about talking.
Frank didn't smile. Instead he tossed another newspaper onto the piano.
"MJ, this is not good. I know you like her." Frank shrugged. “I'm not blind. I`ve seen you two together. But this is not goood”
Michael looked away. Toward anything except the conversation. Unfortunately Frank wasn't finished.
"I've known you a long time." Frank took a huge cigar in his mouth.
“If you know me that well, you know smoking in my studio is out of the question” Michael wrinkled his nose in disgust.
Frank finally smiled and nodded. He put the cigar aside. "Fair enough, a bit moody are we?” he chuckled.
“ Now, where were we… x/Y. I've never seen you look at anyone the way you look at her."
Michael was completely still.
Frank sighed "MJ, Listen to me carefully."
Michael already knew he wasn't going to enjoy this.
"We sat you up with Brooke for a reason, cause she is used to headlines and paparazzis. Her image fit yours. Those headlines were good headlines. A love story. A fairytale. This……." Frank pointed at one of the pictures and shook his head.
"We have tried to keep x/y out of the picture for a very long time."
Now Michael looked confused. The manager pointed at the newspapers. Michael's expression hardened.
"The press is interested now."
"They know her name." Frank was serious now.
Michael remained silent. His jaw tightened.
"They know where she works."
"They know where she lives."
The room went still as Frank leaned forward. “Do you understand what happens next?"
Michael didn't answer. Frank continued anyway.
"They'll photograph her."
"They'll call people she knows."
The words became heavier with every sentence.
"And if this becomes sensational enough..." Frank looked directly at Michael now.
“her safety becomes a concern."
Suddenly Michael wasn't looking at the newspapers anymore. He was remembering something else. You standing in his studio expressing exactly those concerns and how you couldn`t handle the press.
"You can deal with this." Frank continued.
"You've been dealing with cameras since you were a child. You know where to look, what not to say, pretend to smile even when you`re angry when someone sticks a camera in your face"
“She hasn't. She won`t have a clue what to do, and they will eat her alive"
For several moments Michael said nothing. Michael looked back down at the photograph. At your smile. At the hand he was holding.
"What are you saying?" Michael asks.
"I'm saying you need to think very carefully about what happens next. If you do this, she will need all the protection you can give her"
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The telephone rang late the following afternoon. You stared at it for several seconds. Part of you wanted to answer, but part of you also wanted to pretend you weren't home.
"Hello?" you answered eventually.
What followed was an agonizingly long silence. Eventually Michael cleared his throat.
The question sounded oddly formal. As though he'd practiced it beforehand.
"Fine." There was a pause, and the lie hung between you. Neither acknowledged it.
"I wanted to make sure you were alright."
Michael didn't answer immediately. But eventually he replied
Conversations between you normally flow smoothly, but not this time. There was this big elephant in the room neither of you wanted to address, but yet desperately wanted to talk about. Finally Michael spoke. "Can I see you?"
Your heart skipped. A small, traitorous reaction.
"We should probably talk." He suggested.
"Yeah. We probably should"
You looked around the living room. At the couch. At the front door. At the space Eric had stood only yesterday. The thought of driving anywhere suddenly felt exhausting.
"Not sure I really want to go anywhere though."
The confession slipped out before you could stop it.
"No worries. I'll come to you."
Forty minutes later, a familiar car pulled into the driveway. You watched from behind the curtain and immediately recognizing it. Michael climbed out. For a long time he stood beside the car. He looked reluctant to approach your house, yet finally he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, took a deep breath and climbed the steps.
The knock came a few moments later. You opened the door. Neither of you spoke. Because the memories hit all at once. For several seconds you simply stood there looking at each other. Michael finally broke first. “This feels really weird."
A laugh escaped before you could stop it. Michael looked relieved,as though hearing you laugh had solved at least one problem. Unfortunately there were still about fifty others.
The question sounded absurd. Because of course he wanted to come in, and when had you ever asked him a question like that before. However Michael nodded as he stepped inside. He looked around as though he'd never been there before,eventhough he knew every room in the house. Probably every picture and every piece of furniture too.
Eventually the two of you settled in the living room. You both sat on the couch, further apart than usual. For several moments neither spoke. Then finally Michael rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. A nervous habit you knew well.
"I've been trying to figure out what to say."
You looked up and his eyes immediately dropped to the floor. Then the coffee table. Then anywhere except you.
"As it turns out ..." A faint smile appeared. “I'm not very good at this."
You both smiled, and the tension easing slightly. Then the smiles disappeared and the room became serious again.
"I hate what happened with Eric."
Your eyes dropped immediately to the floor.
Michael's voice softened. “I really am sorry."
You nodded slowly. Because you knew he meant it. The room fell quiet again.
When Michael spoke again, he spoke carefully. As though choosing every word before allowing it to exist.
"I don't regret ..." He stopped and started over. He took a deep breathe as if he was trying hard to be brave. His eyes finally meeting yours.
"I don't regret the kiss."
The room went completely still. Michael didn't look away this time.
"But I hate how it happened."
Now that it is said, neither of you could pretend it hadn't happened. The kiss existed now. It has been acknowledged. You swallowed hard. A tiny giggle escaped you, more nervous than amused.
Michael frowned slightly.
You looked down. Then back up. Meeting his eyes.
" I don't think I regret it either."
The silence that followed seemed endless. Michael stared. Completely still. As though he hadn't actually expected you to say it. As though hearing the words out loud was somehow different. His face reddened almost instantly and he started fidgeting with his hands. His nervous smile flickering for a moment.
“It would have been so much more easy if we regretted it.”you sighed
"Well..." A faint smile appeared. “That's inconvenient." Michael replied
“What?” The tension easing slightly as both you starting laughing.
But then all of a sudden, a sharp flash lit the living room wall. Both of you froze. Then a loud bang on the door. The front door rattling violently made both of you jumped. You yelped and covered your mouth instinctively. Another bang followed immediately. Much harder this time. A man’s voice carried through the door.
Michael was moving before you even processed what was happening. He crossed the room in seconds and locked the door. Another camera flash lit the front window. Then another.
“Michael! Just one picture!”
A second voice joined in.
The blood drained from your face. “what`s going on?” you asked frightened
Another bang against the door. You actually flinched. Michael noticed immediately. His expression changing from irritation to concern.
“It`s ok, it`s the paparazzis. I`ll handle it”
Outside another camera flash exploded as Michael pull shut the curtains. And suddenly the reality of it hit. They knew where you lived. Without even thinking about it, you moved closer and grabbed hold of Michael’s arm. Michael immediately covered your hand with his. A simple protective gesture. Then he reached for the telephone and dialed a number he remembered by heart.
“Bill?” Michael sounded stressed. “It’s Michael. I need some help”
Michael rubbed a hand across his face. Looking exhausted.
“No. I did not notify security”
Bill was obviously already yelling.
Michael looked almost embarrassed saying it out loud. You heard Bill’s response loud and clear. Not the words. But the volume.
Michael sighed. “I know.”
You glance toward the window. Another flash.
“They probably followed me.” Michael still on the phone.
The call ended and Michael slowly lowered the receiver.
Outside the knocking continued.
“They’ll be here soon.” Michael told you.
You nodded, still wide-eyed and visibly shaken. You pressed against him, clutching his arm with the desperation of someone seeking shelter from a nightmare. Neither of you commenting on it. Every time a knock echoed from the door, your grip tightened.
Twenty minutes later headlights rolled into the driveway. Two SUVs. The sight alone made you breathe easier. Several security men stepped out. Then Bill Bray. One look at the situation was all he needed. He didn’t come to the front door. Instead he pointed toward the side yard.
Pointed then in another direction.
The security team immediately dispersed, doing their jobs.
Inside the house, Michael finally seemed to relax slightly.
“You trust him.” You stated, almost out of breathe. The unwanted excitement was almost too much to handle.
Michael glanced toward the window. A faint smile appearing.
A few minutes later the knocking stopped and the shouting faded. Then finally few taps on the door. Michael unlocked it and Bill stepped inside.
Closing it firmly behind him, Bill’s eyes immediately found you.
You nodded. Still a little shaken.
Bill studied you for a second. Then turned toward Michael. Michael looked away first. Which told you everything. Bill folded his arms.
Michael rubbed his chin. The gesture of a man who already knew he was in trouble.
“I came here to talk to x/y. I guess they followed me”
Bill stared as he shook his head.
“We talked about this after the diner incident. This was just 48 hours ago Joker. I thought we had an agreement”
Michael closed his eyes briefly. Apparently hoping the conversation might disappear. It did not.
“Rule number one, you don’t go anywhere alone.”
Bill’s voice remained calm. Michael nodded. “I know.”
“Next time they could be waiting before you even arrive.”
The room fell silent. Michael neither argued or defended himself.
“Pack a bag? For what?” You were confused.
Then Bill looked toward Michael.
“You’re not leaving her here.”
It was not a question but a statement. Michael nodded immediately. Bill was already heading back toward the door. As he opened it, he paused briefly without turning around.
“Next time, joker. Bring your damn bodyguards. They are hired for a reason”
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The drive back to Hayvenhurst was unusually quiet. One of Bill’s security vehicles led the way. Another followed behind. And nobody argued about it. Not even Michael.
The events of the evening had settled heavily over everything. Across from you, Michael remained unusually quiet. Your hands were clasped tightly together in your lap. You were still shaken and you hadn’t even realized it. Michael did. His hand moved and was now resting lightly over yours to comfort you. You looked down. Then up. Michael didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at you. His gaze remained fixed on the passing scenery outside.
After a while, the familiar gates of Hayvenhurst came into view. You immediately spotted the photographers. Even at this hour, several clustered near the entrance. Camera flashes already began once they detected the veichles.
The word slipped out before you could stop it. Michael followed your gaze. His expression darkening immediately. The car slowed and was now approaching the gates.
The flashes intensified. White light bursting repeatedly through the windows. You tried hard to avoid the sharp lights. Trying not to look. Trying not to be seen. The lights were so strong they blinded you.
“God, I can’t see a thing” you complained.
Suddenly Michael shifted beside you. Before you quite understood what he was doing, his hand gently cupped your cheek. He turned your face toward him. For a moment you were confused, but then you realized. Michael was trying to hide your face completely from the windows. He was shielding you from the blinding lights from the photographers. You moved closer and burried your face against his chest.
The flashes continued. Relentless. The gates slowly opened. The vehicles rolled forward and Michael kept you shielded the entire time. Only once the gates closed behind you, and when the photographers disappeared from view did he finally let go. When you glanced at him, Michael was still staring out the window. Jaw tight.
Michael had been living like this for years. The difference was that tonight he was trying to protect you from it.
The moment the front door opened, warmth spilled out into the night. Warm light. Familiar voices. The smell of somebody baking something far too late. Home. Hayvenhurst had always felt a little like home to you.
Bill stepped inside first, Michael followed, and you just behind him.
The sound of footsteps appeared from somewhere deeper in the house. A moment later LaToya rounded the corner. She was halfway through saying something when she stopped. Her eyes moved from Michael. To you. To Bill. Then back to Michael. The tension in the room registered instantly.
"What happened?" She asked concerned.
Michael sighed. Already tired of this whole situation.
LaToya's expression changed immediately. The concern deepening. Bill spoke before Michael could.
The room went quiet. Because everybody understood what that meant. LaToya looked toward you immediately.
A second set of footsteps interrupted. This time slower. Katherine appeared in the hallway and was now taking in the scene with one glance.
Bill nodded. “We're fine. But x/y needs to stay here while things cool off”
Katherine's attention shifted immediately toward you. The concern in her eyes unmistakable. “My goodness.”
She stepped closer. Taking your hands gently.
"That must have been frightening." Katherine squeezed your hand.
Then she smiled softly. The same smile she'd given you countless times over the years. “You're safe now, sweetheart. You are more than welcome to stay. It would be like old times”
Across the room, Michael watched the exchange quietly. His shoulders relaxing for what felt like the first time all evening.
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By the time the last of the family disappeared upstairs, the atmosphere in the house had changed completely. The excitement of the evening had faded into something quieter. The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked steadily somewhere in the distance, and the lamps cast warm pools of light across the living room. Outside, security remained stationed near the gates, but inside Hayvenhurst there was finally peace.For the first time all day, nobody needed anything from Michael. It was just you and him.
He sat beside you on the couch, one arm stretched along the back cushion, trying very hard to appear relaxed. Unfortunately for him, you knew him too well to know he was anything but relaxed. Michael was nervous.
”I’m sorry I fucked up tonight. I led strangers to your house” he said appologiticely.
You nodded, knowing well it was never his intention. ” Michael, I know you did not mean to. Besides, they would have found me eventually.”
A smile tugged at your mouth and became impossible to hide, remembering something LaToya had said, “sometimes we need to sacrifice for the people we care about, right?”
Michael was caught totally off guard. At this point he was speechless. “Does that mean you care about me?”
You glanced at him and he looked away immediately. A bright red colour spreading acrosd his cheeks.
For years you had watched women lose their minds around him. You had watched reporters flirt with him, actresses chase him, and audiences scream his name as though he were some kind of mythological creature instead of a human being. And yet here he was. Unable to maintain eye contact with you for more than thirty seconds. He was adorable. And that made you smile even more.
"What?" Michael finally asked. His tone was suspicious.
You shook your head. ”Nothing."
The grin on your face gave you away immediately.
Michael groaned. The sound was filled with the suffering of a man who already knew he was being laughed at.
"What is it? What are you thinking?"
You tilted your head while studying him.
For a few moments you simply watched him. Then a thought occurred to you. A thought that suddenly seemed impossible to ignore.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You never really talked about girls."
He gasped. His eyes, which had been looking at you, suddenly stared at something far away, past your shoulder.
"Yeah. Dates. Girlfriends. Hookups”
The silence stretched. Then stretched some more.
He lifted a hand, slowly dragging it across the nape of his neck. It was a habit you'd witnessed countless times over your years of knowing him. It surfaced when he was ill at ease, or when he felt cornered.
"I didn't really have any."
Your eyebrows lifted.” none?”
The answer hit you with an unexpected jolt. For a long moment, you could only stare, your mind a blank, unable to form a single thought.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I am telling the truth." The sincerity in his voice made you pause.
Slowly, like fragments of a puzzle finally clicking into place, the full weight of his words began to settle over you. He was utterly, undeniably serious. Yet you had to ask again.
” You NEVER had a girlfriend?"
Michael looked down. A very light blush appeared on his cheeks.” No."
Your mouth actually fell open and the sight made him groan ”Oh. Come on. I’m telling you, I’ve never had a girlfriend”
"I just ..." A smile appeared.” You are Michael Jackson."
The answer came immediately.
For several long moments, you just stared at him. Then, a warmth spread through your chest. Suddenly, it all clicked. To the rest of the world, he was Michael Jackson, the icon. But to you, in that moment, he was just Michael. The kid who talked about thunderstorms, the thoughtful young man who remembered tiny details no one else ever did, the one who gave you cassette tapes. And now, the man sitting beside you, visibly nervous, hopeful, and clearly terrified.
Without really thinking, you shifted closer to him. It was a tiny move, barely there, but Michael felt it. Of course he did. His whole body seemed to snap to attention, instantly aware of your proximity. His reaction was so quick and so painfully obvious that a little laugh almost bubbled up inside you. His eyes darted down, then up, then down again, the very tips of his ears turning a bright pink.
"Oh my God," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Michael quickly covered part of his face with one hand.
” Don’t," he mumbled, looking utterly mortified. Which, honestly, only made him even more endearing.
You reached out, gently touching his arm, and the simple contact seemed to almost short-circuit him. The expression on his face was priceless.
"You're so cute when you’re blushing” you teased softly.
"I'm not," he mumbled back.
He muttered something you couldn't quite make out, but the smile never left your face. For so many years, you’d pictured Michael as someone completely out of reach, untouchable. Now, you were discovering he was just incredibly, adorably shy. You have always knew that, but somehow you also imagined all the girls he absolutely must be flirting with when you were not around.
Michael looked down at his hands for a long time before he finally spoke. When he did, his voice was softer than she had ever heard it.
” I always liked you. It has always been you”
The confession hung in the air between you, simple, uncomplicated, and terrifyingly sincere. Your heart gave a sudden, tight squeeze.
Michael laughed nervously, a soft, almost shy sound that barely broke the quiet.
” I don't think I ever was very subtle about it," he said. “I assumed you knew”
"I didn’t think you liked me like that. You were always like a big brother to me” You said, a hint of disbelief in your voice, which earned you a look that clearly said, "Are you serious?"
Then, after a moment, he added, almost to himself, "I did ask girls out sometimes."
Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh?" intrigued by the sudden shift in his demeanor.
He immediately looked uncomfortable, and that reaction alone piqued your interest even more.
A memory, faint but persistent, surfaced from years ago. "There was that girl," you began, pointing a finger at him.
Michael froze, his entire body stiffening.
” The one you asked to dinner. Patty”
His eyes closed briefly, a man reliving a particularly awkward moment. "You remember that?" he mumbled, his voice a little strained.
"I remember being a bit annoyed," she confessed, the words slipping out before she could really think about them.
Michael blinked, a slow, deliberate movement, and then, a soft smile spread across his face.
"You were?" Michael asked slowly, the words hanging in the air. Now, it was your turn to feel a blush creep up your neck, a sudden wave of embarrassment washing over you.
His smile widened, a little more confident this time. "You know why I asked her out?" he prompted.
You shook your head, unable to guess. Michael looked away, apparently finding some confessions harder to make than others.
"I was mad cause you went on a date with a dork from your school, and I wanted to make you jealous," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
The room went completely silent. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape. "You what?"
"I was young," he mumbled, trying to justify it.
"You asked another girl out to make me jealous?" You repeated, the absurdity of it hitting you.
"I thought it was a good idea at the time," he offered, a weak defense.
A giggle escaped you, a genuine, bubbling sound you couldn't help. But then, another thought occurred, and your smile faded. "Did you kiss her?"
Michael's eyes widened immediately. "No," he blurted out, the answer coming so fast it was almost alarming.
"No." He shook his head firmly, his gaze steady. "I told people I did," he admitted, wincing at the memory of his past bravado, "but I didn't. I have never kissed anyone….until…..you” his voice barely audible.
You could hardly believe what you just heard. The room became very quiet again, neither of you moving for a moment. Then, Michael let out a soft, nervous laugh. "you're the only girl I've ever wanted to kiss."
The raw honesty of his words stole your breath, leaving you speechless. In that moment, you didn't need to speak, you only knew, with a sudden, overwhelming certainty, exactly what you wanted. Slowly, almost reverently, you reached for him. The gentle movement seemed to surprise him, not because he didn't desire it, but because he still hadn't fully grasped the beautiful, fragile truth that you might want him just as fiercely.
His eyes met yours, offering you every last chance to pull back, to change your mind. You didn't. As you leaned in, your heart thrumming a frantic rhythm against your ribs, he met you halfway, his hand finding the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your lips met, soft at first, a tentative question, then deepening into a hungry, undeniable answer. It was a kiss years in the making, filled with all the unspoken longing, the quiet regrets, and the powerful, persistent hope that had simmered beneath the surface. Your fingers tangled in his hair, running through his curls, pulling him closer still, as if to absorb him completely. For a long, exquisite moment, the world outside the quiet living room ceased to exist, shrinking down to the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the intoxicating taste of him, and the profound, simple comfort of finally, truly being home in each other's arms.
When you finally, reluctantly, pulled apart, neither moved very far. Michael rested his forehead gently against yours, his breath a soft caress against your skin. A smile bloomed on his face, the kind that was impossible to suppress.
Michael’s heart had been a drumbeat against his ribs the moment your eyes met his. When you reached for him, a wave of disbelief, quickly followed by an electric thrill, shot through him.
Suddenly reality crashed back in, stark and cold, and with it, the name, Eric. The memory slammed into you. Michael felt the shift immediately. His smile faltered. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle.
”I just..." you started, struggling. It took a moment, a deep breath, before you could finally articulate it.
”I think I need to talk to Eric."
A heavy silence descended.
Michael remained still, listening. He didn't argue, didn't push, didn't try to reclaim the moment for himself. He simply nodded, a silent acknowledgment that deepened your affection for him even more.
After a while, a small smile touched his lips again. It wasn’t the shy, happy smile from a few minutes earlier. It was gentler than that, more mature.
“You should talk to him. It`s the right thing to do”
Michael looked at you as though the answer should have been obvious. “I know so. We owe him that”. The certainty in his voice made your chest tighten. For a moment you simply studied him, the kindness in his eyes.
"you are too good for this world, Michael”
He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw before tenderly tucking a stray curl behind your ear. His gaze held yours, full of warmth and a deep affection that made your heart flutter. Leaning in just a fraction, he whispered, "Get some sleep, beautiful."
You leaned closer too, the scent of him comforting and familiar. "You too," you murmured, your eyes searching his. For a second, it felt like time stopped. Truth is you didn`t want to say goodnight, cause he had awaken something within you after the short yet passionate moment you just shared. Then, with a soft sigh that was almost a promise, he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a moment that felt like forever. You felt Michael`s hand settle carefully at your waist, drawing you a little closer. Neither of you seemed to be able to hide it anymore. The happiness. The disbelief. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against him. He bent his head down and snuggled into the curve of your neck. You felt the ticklish sensation and started giggling, pulling away from him playfully.
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The next morning felt nothing like the night before. You and Michael had eventually said goodnight, and you went to bed with the biggest smile on your face. Then you had thought about Eric and you shifted from happiness to feeling guilty in matter of seconds. The thoughts pretty much kept you awake all night. However you had fallen asleep eventually and were still sleepy when LaToya came crashing into your room waking you up in the early hours.
If the living room had belonged to quiet confessions and stolen glances the night before, breakfast at Hayvenhurst belonged to chaos. By the time you came downstairs, the house was already awake. Somebody was laughing in the kitchen. A television played somewhere in the background. One of Michael's brothers was arguing about something completely ridiculous, while somebody else was trying to steal food directly from a serving platter before Katherine could stop them.
The entire scene felt wonderfully normal. And completely overwhelming at the same time. For a moment you paused on the last step, simply taking it all in. Then Michael looked up. The moment his eyes found yours, the rest of the room seemed to disappear. A smile appeared on his face. Nobody else would have noticed it, but you did. It was the smile of a man who had gone to bed happy and somehow woken up even happier.
Your stomach immediately fluttered. Ridiculous. You feel like you`re acting as a teenager. Apparently nobody had informed your heart.
"Morning." The word came from Michael alone. Just enough for you to hear. And you smiled and formed a Morning with your mouth back just for him. You felt your cheeks burnt and suddenly understood why people wrote songs about this sort of thing. Because nothing had changed. The room was exactly the same. The house was exactly the same. Yet everything felt different.
A few seats away, LaToya's eyes moved from Michael to you and back again. Then a smile appeared. LaToya knew. Of course she knew. The woman probably could have detected romantic tension from another continent.
For the next hour, breakfast became an exercise in pretending everything was normal. Nobody officially said anything. Nobody officially asked anything. Yet you repeatedly caught various members of the family exchanging looks.
Michael seemed determined to avoid noticing. Which was impressive considering how obvious it was. At one point you reached for a glass at the exact same time Michael did and your hands brushed. Both immediately looked up. Both immediately smiled. And suddenly neither seemed particularly interested in the glass anymore. The entire thing was embarrassing and so foolish. And wonderful.
You didn`t really know if you have ever been in love that way before. One day you were a sensible adult with functioning judgement and reasonable priorities. The next, you were smiling at absolutely nothing because someone exsisted.
Michael felt a different kind of heat rising in his cheeks when your hand had brushed his under the table a few times already, sending a thrill through him. The air between you still hummed with the quiet joy of your confession from the night before, a secret language of soft glances and knowing smiles that, apparently, hadn't been quite as secret as you’d hoped.
"Well, well, look at our Mikey this morning," Jermaine drawled, a mischievous glint in his eye as he buttered his toast. "Someone's got that 'lovestruck' glow about 'em, wouldn't you say, fellas?"
Randy snickered, while Marlon and Tito nodded in agreement, each taking turns to eye Michael and you.
"Did you two, uh, discuss anything important last night, loverboy?” Jackie added, leaning forward conspiratorially, "Like, perhaps, what your favorite color is? Or maybe something a little more... personal?”
Michael’s face was now a deep crimson, his eyes darting between his brothers.
"Oh, I'm sure they talked about all sorts of things, Jackie," Tito chimed in, a grin spreading across his face.
“Like, did you find out if x/y prefers holding hands or... something else?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Randy burst out laughing, nearly choking on his milk.
Michael groaned, burying his face in his hands, wishing the floor would just swallow him whole. He could feel you trying to stifle giggles next to him, which only made his embarrassment worse.
“Guys, come on!" he mumbled, peeking through his fingers. "Can't I just have breakfast in peace?"
But his brothers were relentless, their eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Oh, don't mind them,” Jermaine said, turning his attention to you with a mock-serious expression.
"They're just curious. We've never seen Mickey quite like this. So, tell us, what's his secret? What's he like when he's not... well, this?” He gestured vaguely at Michael's still-red face.
Randy leaned in, "Yeah, did he sing you a special song last night? Or maybe he showed you his moonwalk? We've heard he's got some moves”
You felt your own cheeks warm up a bit, but a playful glint entered your eyes. You took a sip of your coffee, then looked at Michael's brothers with a sly smile.
“Oh, he's full of surprises, alright," you began, making Michael peek up nervously.
The brothers burst into laughter, and Michael couldn't help but crack a smile.
You let their laughter die down, a smirk playing on your lips. You then put your hands on your hips, looking directly at the brothers.
“Alright, boys," you said, your voice dropping a notch, "that's enough teasing for one morning. I appreciate the warm welcome, but if you don't dial it back, you'll find out just how good I am at... redecorating faces."
You gave them a sweet but firm smile.
Just then, LaToya, who had been quietly sipping her coffee, cleared her throat.
“She's not kidding," LaToya added, her own eyes twinkling mischievously.
“You boys remember what happened to Jermaine's favorite hat when he pushed me too far? Let's just say it had an unfortunate encounter with a very sharp pair of scissors. X/y here looks like she's got even more creative methods."
The brothers immediately quieted down, exchanging nervous glances, knowing LaToya wasn't one to bluff.
Just as the brothers started to look genuinely worried, a warm, gentle voice cut through the playful tension.
"Now, now, what's all this ruckus so early in the morning?" Katherine Jackson walked into the dining room, a soft smile on her face, her eyes taking in the scene.
She looked from you to LaToya, then to her sons, who suddenly seemed much smaller and more subdued.
"Are you boys giving x/y a hard time again? You know better than that." Her presence alone seemed to instantly calm the room, a quiet understanding passing between mother and children.
Katherine's gaze softened as she turned to Michael, a tender smile gracing her lips. "Michael, dear, you look a little tired. Did you get enough sleep?" she asked, reaching out to gently brush a stray curl from his forehead.
“You know you work so hard. There's plenty of fresh orange juice, and I made sure to get those special oatmeal cookies you like."
She then shot a quick, almost imperceptible glance at the other brothers, who were now quietly stirring their coffee, a few rolling their eyes good-naturedly.
“The rest of you, just eat your breakfast," she added, her tone slightly more matter-of-fact, before turning her full attention back to Michael, her hand still resting affectionately on his arm.
You watched the whole interaction unfold, a warm, genuine smile spreading across your face. Seeing Katherine dote on Michael like that, with such obvious love and tenderness, was just the sweetest thing. It wasn't about favoritism in a mean way. It was pure, unadulterated motherly affection, and it was clear Michael absolutely cherished it. It made your heart feel all fuzzy.
Just then, the clack of shoes on the tile floor announced another presence. Joseph Jackson strode into the dining room, and it was like a switch flipped. The easy chatter died, laughter vanished, and a palpable tension filled the air. Everyone, from Katherine to the brothers, stiffened, their postures becoming more rigid.
You felt an immediate prickle of unease yourself, a sudden alertness. Joseph's eyes swept across the room, lingering for a moment on you with a cold, almost dismissive look, a clear sign of disapproval that made you feel instantly scrutinized.
Joseph's eyes, sharp and unwavering, settled on Michael.
“Michael," he stated, his voice cutting through the silence, "you remember you have a girlfriend, don't you? Brooke Shields. She's officially your girlfriend. You should be more attentive to her, not... distracted."
He let his gaze flick dismissively towards you for a fraction of a second before returning to Michael, the message clear and chilling.
Michael's jaw tightened, and he met his father's gaze with a rare defiance. "Brooke isn't my girlfriend, Joseph," he said, his voice firm despite the tension.
"That's just tabloid junk. We're buisness associates, nothing more."
Joseph scoffed, a humorless sound. "Call it what you want, Michael. The public sees you as a couple. They've set you up that way. You damn well better not ruin that image."
Your smile vanished, replaced by a feeling of deep unease. A similar shift rippled through the rest of the family. The room grew heavy with unspoken tension. Katherine, seeing the hurt in Michael's eyes and sensing your discomfort, spoke up softly.
“Joseph, that's not fair to Michael or to x/y”
Joseph just gave a dismissive wave. "Life is not fair. Surely x/y understands her place, Katherine. She knows she is too basic and won't be leveraging Michael’s status. Am I right, x/y?”
Under the table, Michael's hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He took a deep breath, his gaze now firm as he looked at his father.
“Leave x/y out of this, Joseph," he stated, his voice unwavering. "This has nothing to do with her."
Joseph's eyes narrowed. "Don't be foolish, Michael. You know what's expected. Don't let some fleeting distraction jeopardize everything we've built."
But Michael didn't back down. "My feelings aren't a distraction, and they're definetely not fleeting. I won't let anything stop me from being with x/y. I love her”
"I love her, Joseph," Michael said once again, his voice ringing with a newfound conviction.
You gasped softly, your eyes wide. He'd never said those words to you before, and the way he was standing up for you sent a jolt through you.
Suddenly, Jermaine spoke up, "He's right, Dad. Michael's happy with x/y. You can see it." Randy nodded in agreement.
Joseph's face flushed crimson. He slammed his hand on the table, the sound echoing through the suddenly silent room.
“This is ridiculous!” he roared, pushing back his chair. “You think you understand women now? You think you know what love is? You’re still reading the instructions upside down” Without another word, he stormed out of the dining room, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.
Michael turned to his brothers. A look of profound gratitude softened his features, a clear message of thanks for their unexpected support.
Just like that, the entire atmosphere at the breakfast table shifted. The tension of the argument lingered, replacing any warmth or cheer. For the rest of the day, laughter seemed to have completely vanished, leaving behind a quiet, almost heavy, air that settled over everything.
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Later that morning, the heavy quiet still hung in the air as Michael prepared to leave for work. He squeezed your hand, a silent promise in his eyes, before heading out the door.
You found yourself feeling a little adrift in the vast house, the echoes of the morning's argument still fresh.
As you wandered into the sunlit living room, Katherine looked up from her book, her expression warm and gentle.
“The air feels a bit thick today, doesn't it, dear?" she said, a soft smile gracing her lips.
“How about we take a little stroll around the gardens? Clear our heads a bit."
Out among the roses, the fresh air did feel good. Katherine linked her arm through yours, her touch comforting.
“Michael is a special boy," she began, her voice tinged with affection.
“He's always been a bit different, sensitive, and not many people truly understand him. But you, x/y.”
Katherine smiled. “You seem to see him for who he really is. It makes me happy to see him so content."
She paused, a thoughtful look on her face.
“I know this might be a difficult subject, but I also heard about Eric.”
You looked at her in utter shock. You did not expect Katherine to know anything about Eric, but yet here you were.
“Life can be messy, and sometimes feelings get complicated. Don't carry too much guilt, dear.” She said in the most comforting way.
“Sometimes, when hearts are involved, things happen that no one truly intends to cause harm. What matters is how you move forward with kindness and honesty."
You stopped, turning to Katherine, your voice soft and a little shaky.
“But how, Katherine? How do you move forward when you feel so... guilty? I never meant to hurt Eric, and now everything feels so complicated."
Your gaze pleaded for understanding, for a path through the emotional tangle.
Katherine squeezed your arm gently, her eyes full of compassion.
“Oh, my dear, that's a heavy burden to carry, and it's natural to feel that way. The 'how' is often about two things.”
She paused while she takes a deep breathe.
“First, honesty, not just with others, but with yourself about your feelings.”
She squeezed your hand gently aa she continued.
“If you feel it's appropriate, and if Eric is open to it, a sincere apology can sometimes bring a measure of peace, even if it doesn't change what happened. But more importantly, you must forgive yourself. We all make choices that, in hindsight, might have been handled differently.”
“I broke his heart” you said
“A heart wanta what a heart wants, and hearts aren't always logical. You loved Eric, and you love Michael. That's not a flaw. it's just life unfolding”
Katherine reached out and stroke your cheek like she has done so many times during old days. And the gesture always filled you with warmth.
“Learn from it, grow from it, but don't let guilt consume you. It doesn't serve anyone, especially not you or Michael."
As Katherine spoke, a light seemed to dawn for you. You suddenly understood. The softness, the kindness. The resemblance between Michael and Katherine.
You stopped and gave Katherine a hug. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you, Katherine. You were always like a mother to me”
Katherine and your mother, Sarah, had been the closest of friends. Their bond was one of those rare, unbreakable connections, forged through shared secrets, laughter, and tears. So, when Sarah fell ill years ago with cancer, it was Katherine who stood by her side through every grueling step of the fight. After Sarah's passing, the grief was immense for everyone, but especially for you, who were still just a teenager.
Your father, a driven man, was often away for extended periods due to his demanding work. He loved you dearly, but his career often took him far from home, making it incredibly difficult for him to provide the consistent care and emotional support a grieving child desperately needed. Recognizing this, and knowing the deep love Katherine had for both Sarah and you, it was a natural decision for you to be placed in Katherine's care whenever he was away from home. Sometimes days and sometimes weeks at a time.
So, Havenhurst became more than just a temporary home. It became your home in periods of time as well. Katherine, with her boundless empathy and steady presence, naturally stepped into a maternal role. She wasn't just a guardian, she was the one who tucked you in at night, helped with homework, celebrated small victories, and offered comfort during tough times. She filled the void left by Sarah, not replacing her, but nurturing you with the same unconditional love and guidance a mother would. That's why Katherine has always felt like a mother to you, and why you essentially grew up within the comforting walls of Havenhurst.
But the warmth of Havenhurst often felt challenged by the chill that emanated from Joseph. His presence were always preceded by a palpable shift in the atmosphere, a tightening of Katherine’s shoulders. He rarely missed an opportunity to cast a critical eye, a disapproving glance in your direction. It was like a deep-seated resentment that simmered beneath his thinly veiled civility. He remembered all too well the sharp, unwavering gaze of a child who refused to be silent, the quiet but firm words when you grabbed his belt from giving Michael yet another round of beating. That left him fuming, stripped of his authority by someone he deemed insignificant. That humiliation, you knew, he had never forgiven.
Despite Joseph’s disdain, Katherine remained your unwavering champion. She had provided not just a roof over your head, but a sanctuary, a place where you learned that speaking truth, even to power, was not only allowed but encouraged. Katherine’s own gentle strength, so different from Joseph’s brittle pride, had taught you the true meaning of kindness and resilience. It was in this haven, under Katherine's watchful, loving eye, that you had not just grown up, but had truly found your footing, understanding the stark contrast between genuine care and the hollow demands of a man like Joseph.
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The afternoon sun streamed through the window of your room, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air as Janet, all gangly limbs and boundless energy at sixteen, rummaged through your closet.
“Oh my gosh, x/y, can I please borrow this top? It would look so good with my new jeans!" she exclaimed, holding up a shimmering, sequined blouse.
You sitting cross-legged on the bed, flipping through a magazine, chuckled softly.
“Go for it, Jan. Just don't stretch it out!"
A moment later, Janet was perched on the edge of the bed, a brush in her hand.
“And can you do something with this?” She pointed at her hair.
“I've got that party tonight and my hair is just not cooperating."
You took the brush, your fingers deftly weaving through Janet's thick hair, creating a stylish, effortless look.
As you worked on her hair, Janet, emboldened by the easy intimacy of the moment, leaned back against you.
"So, there's this guy at school," she began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "his name is Jimmy. He's so cute, and he smiled at me today in the hall. My stomach did this weird flip thing." She giggled, a blush creeping up her neck.
“Do you think he likes me back? What should I do?"
You tried your best to offer some gentle advice, reminiscing about your own teenage crushes, a shared moment of sisterly bonding over the universal mysteries of young love.
Then, with a sudden shift, Janet turned the tables.
"What about you and Michael?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity, catching your gaze in the mirror.
"Are you guys, like together?”
The question caught you totally off guard.
“Everyone talks about it. He seems so happy when you're around, and you always make him laugh. What's it really like?"
Just as you were about to answer Janet's question, the door creaked open and Michael's head popped in, his curly hair a little disheveled from his studio session.
"What are my two favorite ladies up to?" he asked, a playful grin on his face as he surveyed the scene.
He noticed Janet's newly styled hair and the sequined top she was still holding.
"Oh, just getting ready for a party!" Janet announced, a little too enthusiastically, turning to face him. "X/Y just did my hair, and I'm borrowing her top!"
Michael's playful expression immediately shifted to one of mock sternness, his eyebrows furrowing. "What party? And who's going to be there? No Jimmy I hope?" he teased, looking pointedly at Janet, who instantly flushed a bright red.
“You know, you shouldn't be out too late, little sis. And don't talk to any strange boys!" He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, clearly enjoying being the annoying big brother.
You couldn't help but burst out laughing, a sound that quickly turned into a giggle as you grabbed a pillow. Janet, equally amused and maybe a little annoyed by her brother's antics, snatched another one. In a synchronized move, you both launched your fluffy projectiles at Michael, who barely had time to yelp before the pillows made contact, one bouncing off his head and the other hitting his chest. He just laughed, holding up his hands in surrender.
Michael, still chuckling from the pillow attack, suddenly had a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Oh, you wanna play, huh?" he challenged, and before you could even react, he lunged forward, playfully chasing you around the room. You shrieked with laughter, trying to dart away, but Michael was too quick. He cornered you by the dresser, scooped you up in a playful hug, and then started peppering your face with loud, smacking kisses.
"Ewwwwww!" Janet shrieked, her face scrunching up in disgust as she witnessed the affection overload.
"Gross! I'm out of here!" With a dramatic shudder, she grabbed her borrowed sequined top and practically sprinted out of the room, leaving Michael and you laughing amidst the scattered pillows.
A warm, contented sigh escaped you as Michael finally set you down, both of you still breathless from laughter. Your eyes met, and in that moment, all the noise, all the past worries with Eric and Joseph, just faded away. It was just pure, unadulterated happiness bubbling between you, a feeling neither had genuinely experienced in what felt like forever. You just stood there, smiling at each other, completely and utterly joyful in your shared moment.
You both just soaked it all in, letting the pure joy of the moment wash over you. All the usual stresses, all the stuff you’d been carrying around, it just... melted away. You decided, without even needing to say it out loud, that whatever worries were waiting, you could definitely wait for another day. Right now was for this feeling, this lightness, and you were going to enjoy every single second of it.
