Opening Act
Pairing: Michael Jackson x Drummer!Reader
Synopsis: Your band ‘Laced Underoath’ is invited to be Michael’s opening act on the Bad tour while celebrating the release of your first album.
Authors note: This is my first time writing fanfiction so if there’s any feedback, please feel free to tell me! I think this could make for a fun little series. I have some ideas in mind for different tour dates.
Word Count: 1,079
April 8th, 1988. Houston, Texas.
I can’t believe I get to play my hometown opening for MICHAEL FUCKING JACKSON tonight!
It’s been a little over a month since your band ‘Laced Underoath’ began touring with Michael. Never in your wildest dreams had you expected to be traveling the U.S. with your best friends playing music. Let alone opening for the world's biggest artist to date. The band started as a small project straight out of high school in Houston. An all-girl punk band. You on drums, Armani on bass, Louisa on guitar, and Genevive on vocals. Y’all started out small, playing shows here and there around the city. Each of you worked your asses off and put your all into each show for 5 years — that was until last year.
—
On January 8th of last year, you woke up to the landline ringing. That wasn’t an abnormal occurrence considering the household was made up entirely of you and your bandmates. But something within your soul felt different that day. As you got out of bed and began walking towards your door, you heard Armani scream out “HOLY SHIT!” The bedroom doors within the house opened simultaneously. Genevieve looks to you, then to Louisa. “You guys felt that too, right?” As the three of you approach the living room, you see Armani frozen in place, eyes wide as can be. “That was an agent from Epic Records. Apparently a scout was at our show last week… They want to meet with us!”
That was the moment that everything changed.
Within weeks, the band was officially signed under Epic Records and recording a debut album in Los Angeles, California.
Within months, you were celebrating the album’s release at The Roxy. The place was packed with industry professionals. Some who you, quite honestly, wouldn’t have expected to be celebrating the release of a punk record. But then again, Laced Underoath was the first all women punk band to break into the US mainstream charts, so maybe it wasn’t totally unbelievable.
The four of you were told that this event wasn’t just a huge celebration, but also a great opportunity to network with fellow artists. While the first two singles released performed wonderfully, the label still questioned whether the band could handle a large-scale tour. They thought it would be more feasible to tour as an opening act to capture audiences within each state before embarking on a headlining tour.
That is where Mr. 45-million-records-sold came in.
—
Michael’s manager pushed for him to attend this release party. He didn’t come on his own free will. He had heard of the band a few times, especially once they signed to the same label as him, but he hadn’t intentionally listened to their singles, let alone met any of them. But the second the four of you walked in, the air in the room changed.
Michael was, unfortunately for him, one of the victims to the captivating first live performance of the album. They rocked. Hard. He knew within that moment that he had to work with them. Suddenly, Michael was a little punk man at heart.
—
As the four of you walked off stage, Armani looked towards you. “Don’t freak out… and don’t look now… but Michael Jackson is here.” Your eyes widen. “Mani… That’s so not funny.” You couldn’t quite explain the grip that man had on you. But honestly? You didn’t have to because the walls of your bedroom said enough. His posters had been up in both your teenage and adult bedrooms. His records were on constantly, and they had the wear and tear to prove it.
“I’m not kidding! He’s walking over!” The second you turn around, your biggest dream turns into your biggest fear. Oh my god. You felt stuck in place as you looked into his eyes. Not just a 2D printed version that you would stare into growing up. His REAL eyes. They were so much prettier in person. He was so much prettier in person. Louisa thankfully nudges you out of your trance. Your heart is still beating at a modest 500 beats per minute, but at least you’re not stuck staring into his eyes like a maniac.
“You ladies put on one hell of a show.” His smile is so wide and yours is uncontrollable. Each of you says your thanks simultaneously. He let out a laugh. “You’re in sync off stage too!” Genevieve is the first to start an actual conversation. She’s got that fearless front woman energy about her. “Oh yeah, just cousin things!” You side eye her immediately. “Girl… quit lying” you say as the four of you start cracking up. “No but for real, we’re like family. We all grew up together,” you say looking at him. “It translates into your performance.” You can’t tell if that’s the best compliment you’ve ever heard or if it’s just Michael Jackson saying it. “Truly! I don’t know if there was a second where you stopped smiling. Even now!” Armani laughs, recognizing that the entire reason your smile hasn’t subsided for the past 5 minutes is because you’re face-to-face with the love of your life who, until this moment, didn’t know you existed. “Oh she has a lot of reasons to be so smiley right now!” She was the second victim of your side-eye that night.
As the five of you continue the conversation, the band manager, Richard, comes over with Michael’s manager. The lightbulbs going off in their minds are very apparent. “Ladies!” “Michael!” Both agents say mischievously. It’s interesting how these grown men in suits are suddenly acting like two kids preparing to ask their mothers if they could have a sleepover. “We have a proposition,” Michael’s manager, Frank, says to the group. Michael looks back and forth between Frank and Richard and you and the band. “What might that be?” Frank says to Michael, “You know how I told you tonight would be great for tour planning?”
“Mhmm..”
“Well. These ladies are available as openers.. They’d bring an entirely different audience to your concerts and you’d be helping them out tremendously by introducing them to your fanbase.” You and the band immediately start looking at one another, because there’s just no possible way Michael Jackson would actually want you guys to-
“That sounds like a great idea.”
“Holy shit.” Coming from each of you.
“Well ladies, on behalf of my client, welcome to the ‘Bad’ tour!”
—
