𣲠michael just cant handle his best friendâs new boyfriend!
this chapter is a bit shorter than the others will be just due to the fact that itâs establishing the storyline!
being michaelâs childhood best friend meant that you got to see him through the best and the worst. things came and go, shows sold out and talk shows aired; michael always came to you with the same singular complaint that he was âjust so tiredâ.
you felt for him, you really did. knowing him all his life, knowing the exact thing he was tired of. his father. the industry. sometimes even dancing and singing despite how much he loved doing those two things. and now, as he got older, a grown man being trapped and tied down to your family brand was no way to live your life. it was hard to get away sometimes. it wasnât like he could rest in a park without being recognized. so his way of âgetting awayâ was seeing you.
you always had a hand open to him, you were always ready to help him and comfort him. foolishly, he found himself in love with you. deeply. though, he was a bit conflicted. there were many other beautiful women in his life, women in the industry that had been through the same as him. and, you always seemed to have a new man around you. the thing is, michael always hated your boyfriends. they always used you for what they wanted, and you never saw it. okay, maybe some of them had been decent, but he just resented them for the fact that they got to hold and kiss you, something he deeply yearns for. and the women in the industry, as great as it was to have a similar, shared experience⌠they didnât get it like you did. even if you were never famous, never pressured into interviews or pictures⌠you just got him in a way nobody else ever could. and maybe thatâs why he found himself loving you. drawing you. writing about you. everything he did or created always circled back to the same muse â which was you.
and as he tossed and turned in the night, clutching his bedsheets unable to fall asleep, he always thought of you. how you might comfort him or soothe him. what it would feel like to have your hands run down his back and curl into him. what your lips would feel like against his, against his cheek and neck and shoulder. how it would feel to have his big hand in yours. what you both could have been. instead, as he lie awake tonight, youâre sleeping soundly a few blocks down, probably with your new boyfriend beside you.
he feels the heat, the familiar sting, of jealousy come up and punch at his heart. the feeling is terrible, but one that heâs sadly found himself getting used to over these last few years when he realized he was in love with you. and he can remember the day he found out like it was yesterday.
it was october of â76. you were all bundled up. it was a crisp 68 degrees outside with a soft breeze coming right from the beach. leaves blew on the freshly trimmed grass of his backyard. you were sitting with one of his dogs in your lap, murmuring to the creature about how cute it was, what a good boy it was, and letting it lick the palm of your hand. you looked so radiant with your nose slightly scrunched up as cool breeze drifted past you two. you had a scarf around your neck that covered up just a bit of your mouth, and his first thought was what it would feel like to gently tug down the fleece and kiss you. it was that moment, that day, that he fell in love with his best friendâŚ
he doesnât think he could ever forget how heavenly you looked that day.
ঢ়ęŞăťăťăťăťăťŕ§ťęŞ
time and time again you remind yourself that there are plenty of fish in the sea for you to search for. you find shopping around to be fun, going to clubs in the late night, dancing to disco hits like your life depended on it. you were the kind of girl to try everything once. a kind of girl scary men liked to follow around.
the hustle was fun, you were on your feet every night. every evening was something new, and you never once slept when the sky was dark. this back and forth had turned you practically nocturnal. if you werenât passed out from exhaustion or substance use, you were awake and dancing! it was fun, that was your main excuse.
something muffled plays faintly on the record player in the corner of your room, some girl group from the fifties singing about how theyâre âtoo youngâ to be seen as women in the eyes of the man they chase. sometimes, that was how you felt with the world. despite being a young adult woman, you were somehow still too young to understand some things. you thought that was ridiculous. youâve seen things, youâve had experiences⌠you were grown and had done enough to be considered wise and respected. why didnât people treat you like that? maybe just for the fact that you had the misfortune of being born a woman.
never a brain, never an athlete. just a girl. and there was only one man on planet earth who didnât see you like that.
your mind wasnât on michael tonight, you hadnât even seen him since halloween, and as december rounded the corner christmas cheer was filling the hearts of the californians about the streets tonight. festive drinks, deals on alcohol, it was the most wonderful time of year â thatâs for sure. and this was how you celebrated. in the humid rainy weather of california, you emerged from your small home, forgetting to lock the door as excitement rushes over you again.
you were going out again. you looked pretty, of course. but⌠too much like you were trying to look it. of course, you still did, but your natural beauty could have shone far beyond the makeup you caked on yourself, and the trendy, revealing outfit you had put on. at least, michael would have said something like that. your best friend was always your biggest supporter. you always called him your wing man.
heels clicking on the damp sidewalk, you pull out a small lipstick you had at the ready, applying it sloppily to your lips before you are let into the little club in the corner. the lights were flashing in purple and blue, a large glittery disco ball casted speckles of shimmer on your body as you immediately greet the hostâ who has seen your face one too many times. the old man nods in return, lifting his glass to you in a remote salute.
immediately, a lively dance hit bounces through your ears and you find yourself swaying on over to the bar counter, elbows resting on the cold wood as you lean all pretty up against it.
âcould you pour me my usual, tony?â you ask, batting your eyelashes to hopefully get the drink on the house. it works, it always does. youâre pretty, your confidence radiates, and you feel on top of the world. when the glass hits the inside of your hand, it just as soon rises to your lips and washes down your throat. you whoop at the feeling and giggle, other bar regulars who recognize you, chuckle and pat your back.
some man grumbles âeasy thereâ, a girl raises her palm at the bartender and speaks up in a thick valley accent; âi want what she had!â
itâs all a blur really. already. youâre clutching your fifth drink in your hand and smiling as people pass by you. somewhere in the heat of it all, you find yourself on the dance floor. tiles glow below your feet as you raise your arms to the air and sway with the music, your back pressed to somebodyâs chest whom you donât know. the figure behind you feels down your waist, but you arenât stupid. and you certainly are not drunk enough to let something happen to you.
âhey, whatâs the deal? iâm just dancinâ here⌠not trying to get all..â
your words die as you lift your drink to take another swig, moving away from your dance partner and walking over to a few seats that surrounded the dance floor. some man had been watching you sway, someone a few years older than you but nothing big. he was holding a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. with a wave, he calls you over, smoke curling around him like an ominous curtain.
you were curious. you wanted to pull back that curtain and see what this mystery man was all about, so you approach him willingly and smile. âevening.â
âevening to you, too, missâŚâ
you shake your head, raising your hand. âyou donât need to know my name, i donât even know who you are, you know? isnât that a little weird, mr mystery?â
you shake a scolding finger at the man and he chuckles, immediately recognizing that youâre tipsy, not quite out of your mind yet, but getting there. he shakes his head and holds his cigarette between his thin, leathery lips for just a moment before flicking the ash into an empty beer bottle.
âwhy donât you come with me tonight? iâll drive ya.â he suggests, kind enough, but no man like this one was ever really kind for the sake of being kind. youâre smarter than that. your eyes narrow and you shake your head, dainty fingers reaching for his napkin. you pull out the lipstick you used to touch up earlier and write your houseâs phone number on the napkin. it tears slightly on the last number from the pressure of your writing, but itâs still readable.
âjust call me when iâm not hammered, then we can talk..â
and you did. the two of you talked and talked and talked. over and over and over again. you found out the guyâs name was rob, and he finds out yours too. rob was a cool guy, just your kind of guy. he had a big van and a âbandâ that he formed as a youngster in the sixties, they make some kind of hippie music you donât really like so much. you were a disco girl. a dancing machine. it was the new age. though, he was a few years older than you, so that explained some of your differences.
rob had a few tattoos and never shaved his face. his hair was buzzed and he looked real dirty. a real lowlife to anybody else around you except you. you were blinded by the thrill that came with him. everyday it was; âhey babe, wanna hit the beach?â, or âhey cherry, you wanna speed down one of the hills?â rob was fun, in your eyes.
ঢ়ęŞăťăťăťăťăťŕ§ťęŞ
michael hadnât seen you in weeks. not since halloween when you came over. michael didnât celebrate the holiday, but you had asked him if he at least could get together with you to watch a scary film, because he loved those, and he figured that it was okay. he loved that night, because it meant that you cuddled up all close to him and stuck by his side as cheesy jumpscares pop through the screen and give you a good scare.
yeah, he hadnât seen you since then. but he thought of you so much. each day, he woke up and his first thought was âi wonder if sheâll call todayâ. his eyes always flickered towards the phone sitting on his bed. when he wasnât so busy with dancing and singing, he was thinking of you.
his brothers tried to get him out of this little funk. they forced michael to join in on a basketball game in the front yard. he wasnât an athlete, and the scent of flowers from his garden as he stood outside made him think of you. his brothers even agreed to play a board game with him. he didnât want to, for once. his brothers, and sisters, threw him into the pool and splashed around for a little while. old michael wouldâve chuckled, but current michael just couldnât stop thinking of how you used to look sitting on the edge of his pool while he swam. he always used to tease you for not getting in. his hands would find your feet and legs, which were dipped in the water and kicking at the waves he made by swimming, and heâd lift you up and yank you down into the water with him. youâd always be so mad, but also laughing at the same time, telling him he was really gonna get it once you dried off. all he could do as his family tried to distract him, was lean his cheek against an inflatable pool float and smile at the memory.
later that day, he figures he should walk one of his german shepards to get his mind off of your absence. but even the walk cannot shake your image out of his head. he remembers a time where his dogs had jumped on you, licked at your face and nuzzled at your neck. he had to call them off of you, and when the dogs backed away he saw you laughing on the floor. you were everywhere. he looked up at the dark sky, the moon staring back at him, and made a wish that youâd soon come back to him. his girl.
like clockwork he hears you. a laugh coning from down the sidewalk. his head snaps down from the stars, the dog at his heel heard it too and stands at attention, tail low to the floor. he beams, heart swelling with excitement and pride. he wished on a star for you, and there you were! miracles really did come true! his feet moved before his brain could rationalize anything, and his dog ran close behind him as he followed the sound. making a left turn down a sidewalk with beautiful flowers blooming in the grass and a canopy of cabbage palm trees shading the already dark concrete, he finds you. happier than heâs ever been, he immediately jogs toward you babbling on about how he wished for you.
âthere you are, minnie! i swear, i made a silly wish and here youââ
he stops dead in his tracks, his feet planting still into the concrete as his dog abruptly stops behind him, too. youâre there. you really are, and you look so beautiful. but smoke curls around your frame and heâs confused. you would never smoke. not his minnie.
so he looks around you. down at your feet, your pretty shoes⌠nothing. upwards, your styled hair that fit you so well, nothing? he was confused until his gaze moved to your right, where a man stood beside you with a cigarette in his lips. he gave michael a puzzled expression and michael immediately felt rage bubble up in his chest. who was this? michael hadnât seen you in weeks, and you turn up with some villain? he needed to cool himself, he knew that. he didnât know this man.
but gosh, michael could be a jealous man when duty called. he didnt want to hurt his girl. he swallowed and clenched his jaw, turning back towards you. a little embarrassed under all the anger and confusion, he fiddles with the fabric leash in his hand.
âi wished for you.â he finished his earlier sentence. his eyes lifting to look up at you as his head ducked.
âyou wished for me..?â you ask, your brows furrowing as you glance at your new boyfriend. you make a gesture at the gruff man, one michael can only assume is you telling him to âcalm downâ or something. why would he not be calm? was he an angry man? did he hurt you? michaelâs mind flooded with conclusions.
he just nods and furrows his brows, hand reaching up to rub a the bridge of his nose, a nervous tic he adapted.
âwhoâs thisâŚ?â he asks you. he doesnât turn to the man and ask him directly. he wants to hear it from you. he trusts you only. âiâm a real fuckinâ person you know.â the man beside you grumbles, waving his hand in michaels face to try and get his attention. rob didnât like that he wasnât being directly addressed. what was he, some kind of circus act?
michaelâs head was ducked. his face wasnât visible to rob, you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. this wasnât a stress you needed tonight, and it was exactly why you had taken this long route back home. to avoid michael like youâve been doing for days.
âthis is rob, mikey. heâs my new boyfriend.â
michaels world ends right there. you being his world, now corrupted by some nasty looking loser. michael hated how angry he was about this, but he couldnât help it. his head shoots up and his big eyes blow wide in disbelief. he takes a step forward but you cut him off before he can speak. ârob, this is michael jackson, my best friend.â
your new little boytoy immediately softens his expression. with the cigarette still lodged in his lips, he reaches his hand out to michael for him to shake, demeanor immediately switched now that you mention michaelâs name.
âgood lord! apologies, my friend, heh, i just got a little temper is all. you understand people that got short fuses, donât ya?â a low blow. michael doesnât think rob means it in the way it came off, to give the man some grace. michael also doesnât look back at rob, he keeps his gaze on you as his dog wanders off somewhere, still attached to the leash, sniffing at a bush.
âminnie, can i call you when you get home..?â he whispers so your new accessory couldnât hear him. michael was mad, but he never could be mad at you. your hand finds his ridiculously big one, jaw clenching as you watch his fingers curl around yours. rob seethes beside you, so you make the interaction short and sweet. you didnât want to scare off this new man of yours in the span of two weeks.
âyes, yeah, fine. michael, just call me later okay? i have to get out of here..â
you shake your head and push him away, he almost trips over his leash and gasps, watching your body as you grab robâs arm and guide him along the sidewalk. michael watches your back as you disappear into the darkness of nighttime. his dog whines, but he doesnât look. he stares at where your figure once was, swallowing hard.
so much for miracles. so much for wishing upon a star.
đŁ˛â chapter two in developmentâŚ
please let me know if you want to be added to the taglistâŚ
theartofmadeline
gracieabrams
discoholicmusic
snowghoul
izzy806
turnnoffyourmind
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
ellievsbear