meet the parents - michael jackson x filipina!reader
₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇ masterlist ₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇
Pairing: Michael Jackson x Filipina!Reader
Summary: Your Filipino parents finally meet your longtime boyfriend, Michael. But dinner (unexpectedly, joyously) turns into something far greater than either of you bargained for.
Warnings: Anxiety over immigrant parents (woof), sort of hurt/comfort, not much else tbh i hope
Content: Fluff, thrad!mike, his pic from above is technically from thriller but that’s genuinely how i see him ok, reader is filipina!!!, established relationship, no use of y/n, filipinos being filipinos, magic mic appearance!!!, proofread but also if there are mistakes… shhhh…
AO3 🔗 <- read it on ao3!
Word Count: 8.1k
A/N: based on this request (tysm!). this did NOT turn out the way i thought it would… magic mic moment?! literally and figuratively?! i first wrote this to just be dinner but i could NOT resist karaoke… because filipinos taking any chance to sing their hearts out? well yes! this might be cringe but i kinda don’t care? this is also very fil-am experience-based. i am not fluent in tagalog, so if i mistranslated something, pls let me know! i also included translations below. heavy on feeling #seen and #heard from this lowkey self-insert piece. although reader is filipina, anyone can read and enjoy! para sa kultura, of course… comment reblog like etc!!! thank u babes i love you xo ♡
Translations:
Nanay or ‘nay = mother
Tatay or ‘tay = father
Ate or ‘te = older sister (can be used between family or friends)
Kasi = because
Anak or ‘nak = child
Uy = an informal interjection used to get someone's attention or express a mild protest, like “hey” or “yo”
Tsimis / tsimosa = gossip / a person who is a gossip
Tita / tito = aunt / uncle
Bhe = a popular term of endearment that is a shortened, localized version of the English word "baby"
✧
The atmosphere in the car is stifling. The ride itself is smooth—just about 30 minutes between Encino and your childhood home. But your chest feels tight, like you can’t inhale enough oxygen, the vehicle’s cabin closing in on the walls of your vision.
You pick at your fingers, focusing on your breathing as you glance outside past your sunglasses.
In, 1, 2. Out, 1, 2.
Warm fingers enclose on top of your own, stopping your picking. You glance down at them and then up at your boyfriend’s soft smile.
Michael looks the polar opposite of your inner turmoil—relaxed, body leaned back, legs spread wide. His knee touches your own as he begins to rub soothing circles on your palm.
“You okay, baby?”
You release a deep sigh and give your head a small shake. “M’fine.”
Michael leans forward slightly, peering at your face over the top of his shades, unconvinced.
“Sure. Why don’t you tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”
You sigh again, deflating, and nuzzle your head into his shoulders. You groan, pouting, and Michael just laughs, reaching over to smooth your hair back.
“I’m terrified. And stressed.”
Michael hums, still stroking your hair. “It’ll be fine, hon. You’re makin’ me nervous.”
You look up at his twinkling eyes. “I’m sorry, baby.”
Your pout grows deeper, eyebrows furrowing. Michael thumbs the crease on your forehead and cups your chin, doing the same at the corners of your mouth.
His smile grows wider, eyes flitting all over your face. “I’m kiddin’. I don’t like seein’ you stressed, but you’re jus’ so cute like this.”
You roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at your lips. “Not funny.”
Michael leans forward to press a soft kiss on your forehead. He leans back, keeping his face close. His eyes continue to shine with a teasing glint.
“It kinda is, seein’ you worked up like this.”
You swat his arm, fully smiling and letting out a small laugh.
“There’s that beautiful smile.” Michael looks at you, lovestruck, and you turn your head to hide a blush.
“Oh, shut up, Mikey.”
You side-eye him, smiling wider now, and he pulls you in close. You settle in a comfortable silence, listening to the car drone outside the windows and watching the rolling hills pass by. Michael speaks up again after a few minutes.
“I’m more excited than anything. Get to finally meet your family. They seem wonderful.”
Your head swings slowly to face him. You lean back, staring deadpan into his eyes, which twinkle with laughter.
“What?”
“Wonderful…” You think for a moment. “That’s… one way to describe them.”
Your mind drifts back to a conversation you had with your parents a few nights ago.
✧
You and Michael were spending a chill night at the house. You had basically moved in a few months ago, much to your family’s dismay. Quite frankly, you didn’t want to pay LA taxes, and you were going steady with your longtime boyfriend.
To you, it made sense.
To your mother (and Michael’s, though you’re sure Katherine loves you as a person and for her son), moving in with a man who isn’t your husband was sacrilege.
It took some time for her to warm up to your new reality. Several phone calls later and frequent check-ins to make sure you were still alive, she seemed mostly resigned to the fact that, indeed, your new roommate was your boyfriend.
That night, Michael was home early. He usually spends evenings late in the studio, even until the crack of dawn, holed up and working on his melodies. He said he was feeling uninspired and decided to call it a night—but Michael Jackson being uninspired? The sky might as well be yellow.
Judging by the way he now sprawls all over your lap, one hand tracing light circles on your knee while the other channel surfs the TV, his lack of motivation does not trump his need to be with you. Or on you; practically connected by the hip. On rare occasions, you manage to take him away from his work, which you always jokingly say is the second lady in his life.
You’re browsing a lifestyle magazine, eyes scanning for the perfect futon you’re in the market for, when the telephone on the opposite side of the room blares above the soft hum of the TV. You startle, legs twitching, which causes Michael to shift from his position. He starts to get up at the same time you do.
“I got it, baby.” He squeezes your knee and presses a light peck on your lips. He walks over to the phone, pulling it from the receiver and up to his ear.
“Hello?” Michael listens for a moment. Then glances at you. “Yes, she’s here.”
He looks away while you squint your eyes, suspicious. A small, bashful smile appears on his face when he continues listening to the voice on the other end.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s also me.”
You sit up straight, tilting your head, curiosity mixing in with that lingering suspicion over the mysterious voice he’s speaking to.
Michael continues listening, glancing now and then at your increasingly confused expression. He nods in silent response, then releases a short laugh, ducking his head. He hums before responding out loud again.
“I’ll get her. It’s nice to officially talk to you, ma’am.”
He pulls away from the phone and covers the mouthpiece. Michael gestures for you to come over with a shake of his head. You stand up and cross the room slowly. When you reach him and put your hand out for the phone, he whispers:
“It’s your mother.”
Your stomach drops along with your jaw. Michael puts the phone in your hand and stands closer, rubbing your back. He gestures again, willing your frozen state to start talking. He chuckles softly while mouthing “It’s okay.”
You gulp and bring the phone up to your ear. Michael slides his hands around your waist and pulls you against his chest, resting his chin on your head. He sways you both back and forth, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering in your chest.
“Nay?”
“Ate! I just spoke to Michael Jackson on the phone!”
Your mother’s slight accent weaves between her words, accompanying her shrill tone. While her familiar voice brings your anxiety down a notch, something suspicious and nagging still settles in your gut at her unexpected call.
“Yes, ‘nay, that was Michael.” You lean your head back against his chest. He shifts his head so his cheek now rests against your hair. His breathing is steady, strong, calming you further.
“Anyway, is everything okay? Why are you calling?”
“Kasi, anak, your father and I would like to invite you and Michael for dinner this weekend.”
You freeze. Then, you shift forward, away from Michael, who gently pulls you back towards him with firm fingers. You wriggle out of his grasp, but not completely. He keeps a hand on the small of your back as you stand straighter.
“Wait, what?”
“I was just thinking, we haven’t seen you in some time. And you haven’t called. We also have yet to meet your boyfriend, ‘te. You’ve been dating for how long now?”
You chew your lip, suppressing a groan. You rub a hand over your face before fully stepping away from Michael to pace back and forth. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms while watching you, amused as you move. You grab the phone cord with your free hand and begin twisting it.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called; work’s been busy. And…” You trail off, glancing at your boyfriend, who watches you with curious eyes. “Our anniversary passed some months ago.”
“See?” Your mother’s voice chimes. You can practically see her mirroring your movements, waving a hand dramatically over her head. “Don’t you think it’s time we meet him? Unless you don’t want us to.”
You sigh. “‘Nay, it’s not that.”
“And you’ve already met his family—what, how many times now? How come you never bring him over?”
“Nanay, it’s more complicated than that—”
“Actually, how come you are never over anymore? We live 30 minutes away, anak. Sure, it is somewhat far, but we are only a drive away, and…”
You close your eyes, counting slowly to ten as you listen to your mother rant, seemingly not taking a breath between her string of words. When you open your eyes, Michael’s still staring at you, his head now tilted inquisitively.
“Everything okay?” He mouths.
You roll your eyes and shrug. You take a deep breath before steeling yourself.
“Okay, okay, ‘nay, I hear you. Nanay,” You say firmly into the speaker. Your mother stops, and you hear her deep breaths at the end of the line.
You suppress another groan before saying through your teeth, “Can I just ask him first? He’s right here.”
A beat. Then, a longer stretch of silence before your mother clucks her tongue and hums.
“Okay. But don’t take too long.”
You envision her pointing an accusatory finger in your face and roll your eyes again. “Thank you. I’m putting you on hold now.”
You reach over to the phone keypad and press the hold button. Then you place the phone gingerly on top of the console before resting your head against your hands, leaning against the wall with closed eyes.
“What is it, baby?” Michael’s warmth engulfs your back as he shifts closer, rubbing soothing circles.
After a beat, you push yourself off the wall, only to lean the side of your head against it to look at your boyfriend. His patient, loving stare has you sighing all over again.
“My parents want to have us over for dinner.”
A beat. You see Michael process the information in real time: a split second of surprise flashes in his eyes, then a light bulb of excitement washes over his face.
“That’s a good thing, right?” His voice tilts up slightly at the end. He searches your face, deciphering the worried lines that have definitely appeared on your forehead.
“I guess… It’s just… Well, you know,” You wave your hands in the air, absentmindedly.
“My family can be a lot.” You mumble, tapering your words quietly at the end.
Another beat. Michael just stares at you, blank. Then a bright laugh exits his mouth, sharp and clear.
“Baby, you’ve met the Jacksons. Managing your folks will be a walk in the park.”
It’s your turn to stare at him, aghast and slightly amused at his confident remark. “Hon, you haven’t met immigrant parents who are meeting their only daughter’s first serious boyfriend for the first time.”
You pinch your nose, squinting your eyes closed. “This is either going to be a nightmare or, like you said, a walk in the park.”
Michael gently lifts your hands away from your face and kisses your knuckles. A flush rises in your cheeks as he gazes up at you, warm and mischievous as always.
“It’ll be fine, my love. Tell your mother we’ll be there. ‘Bout time I meet ‘em, right?”
You groan, rolling your eyes, a playful yet worried smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell her.”
✧
And that was how you ended up parked outside your childhood home, staring at the pile of cars lined up in the driveway.
Suspicion crawls up your spine, a pool of dread beginning to stir in your belly.
“Everything okay?”
Michael’s voice pulls you back to reality, and you glance at him before squinting your eyes outside the window.
“There shouldn’t be this many cars here.”
Michael shrugs, patting your thigh. “Maybe your parents invited other people.”
You look at Michael fully, dumbfounded. “My mom did not say she was having anyone else over. Just us.”
He laughs at your shocked demeanor and slides a hand around your cheek. He rubs your face affectionately before pecking your lips softly.
“Maybe she wanted more people to come.”
Michael exits the car and holds his hand out for you. You take it, grumbling as you stand on the curb and adjust your dress.
“Or she wanted more people to meet you.”
You fiddle with Michael’s jacket, which already sits perfectly on his frame. Your fingers thread through his already flawless curls, sitting dark and pretty around his ears. You have to busy your hands to fight off the rising anxiety in your chest.
“It’s totally unfair to you. And me, obviously. She could’ve said something.”
You continue to grumble under your breath as Michael slides his hands into yours. He adjusts his aviators, smiling.
“It’s okay, baby, really. I don’t mind either way.”
You glare at him, and he just laughs.
“C’mon now, don’t wanna keep your mama waiting.”
Michael tugs you along, walking up to the front door. You straighten your back and practice a few small smiles. Every one feels tight on your lips.
Michael reaches forward to ring the doorbell. You hear incoherent yelling behind the door, then footsteps drawing nearer. You tighten your grip on Michael’s hand, and he squeezes back. His head turns over to you. He gives a reassuring smile, to which you can only grimace weakly back at him.
The door bursts open, and your mother’s charming smile is on the other end. Her arms are already wide open as she yells in excitement.
“Anak!”
She essentially grabs you and smushes you hard against her shorter frame in a hug. You grunt, wrapping your arms around her as a genuine smile grows wide on your face.
“Hi, nanay.”
“Let me look at you.” Your mother pulls away and anchors herself on your shoulders. She rests one hand on your chin and turns it left, then right.
“You’ve gained some weight, haven’t you?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes and just smile wider to the point of hurting.
“It’s good to see you, too.”
You glance behind you, still clutching onto your mother’s arms. You see Michael standing further back, arms crossed behind him politely. He takes off his sunglasses and bows in his usual humble way.
“Hello.”
He flashes a dazzling smile at your mother, and you essentially feel her waver at the effect your boyfriend has on everyone around him. She recovers just as quickly, peeling herself off you to approach Michael with open arms.
“Michael!” Your mother reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck. He has to bend down to meet her frame, hugging her back. He laughs, looking at you, eyes shining.
“Hi, ma’am, it’s lovely to meet you.”
Your mother pulls away to swat him on the arm. “Call me Sherry. Here, let me take your things.”
Michael closes the door behind him as your mother gathers your jackets. She fusses over them as you attempt to help her, waving you away as she beckons you both further into the house.
As soon as you enter, the familiar scent and warmth of home envelop your senses. Something savory is cooking in the kitchen, melding pleasantly with the lemon candle your mother always turns on when she’s cooking. Laundry and your family’s various colognes and perfumes also mix in the atmosphere. Despite your nerves coming home, the familiarity of it all settles in your bones, calming you a bit more.
That is, until you glance down at the copious amount of shoes littered in the foyer.
You glance up at your mother, who’s already retreating into the kitchen. You tug your shoes off as you call after her.
“‘Nay, why are there so many shoes here?”
She waves behind her, not taking a second glance at you. She disappears around the corner as her voice projects clearly back to where you’re standing.
“There’s some slippers by the staircase for you, ‘nak. I guessed Michael’s size, hope they fit!”
You roll your eyes at her answer of omission. Your feet pad over to the staircase and slip them comfortably over your toes. Michael follows behind you, and you slide his slippers over to him.
“Thank you.” He says softly. When he slips his feet inside, he whistles.
“These are so comfy. Can we bring ‘em home?”
You snort, crossing your arms. “Those might be someone’s, but we can ask.”
Michael hums, satisfied. You’re about to go into the kitchen when you hear a commotion from upstairs.
“Ate, is that you?”
You slowly lift your head in disbelief. There, standing on the landing, are a few of your younger cousins, crowding around each other. The girl in the front, Crystal, was the voice you immediately recognized without even seeing her.
She looks between you and Michael, then squeals. The rest of your cousins follow, barrelling down the stairs in an excited clamor and crowding around you two. You’re essentially pushed to the side as they all chatter around your boyfriend.
He smiles and greets them, eyes twinkling as he addresses each cousin. He glances up at you, sheepish, and you just glare back. You cross your arms and attempt to shout over the din.
“Uy, let him breathe!” You nudge past some of your girl cousins to stand by Michael. They look at you, offended, and you just stick your tongue out at them.
“Gee, it’s great seeing you guys too.” You look at each of them, amused at them continuing to buzz in muted excitement in place. “Why the hell are you all here?”
One of your boy cousins, Eddie, shrugs. “Tita called Dad, said you were finally coming over with your boyfriend.”
One of your other girl cousins, Alyssa, shoves Eddie. “Yeah, she called Mom too. But she didn’t say that you’re dating Michael Jackson!”
Michael laughs at that, and you can only roll your eyes. You feel a headache coming on from how many times you’ve done that already.”
“I’m surprised nanay didn’t say that already,” You mutter.
You glance at Michael, apologetic, before looking back at your cousins, who are still ogling over the sight of the two of you standing close together.
“So all your parents are here, too?”
Everyone nods, and you can only groan.
“Delightful.”
Michael laughs, glancing mischievously at everyone. They seem to hang onto his every word as he speaks.
“Hey, the more, the merrier!”
The cousins cheer as you facepalm your forehead. They continue to crowd around Michael, asking question after question at such a dizzying speed that you wonder how he can keep up. He seems to bask in the attention, taking every word by stride, before you interrupt the conversation by tugging him away.
“Okay, guys, can you please just leave us alone for a sec? Go see if nanay or your parents need help setting up; we’ll be right there.”
A few protests and whines later, you successfully shoo them away. You grab Michael’s hand and pull him to the living room. You plop down onto the couch and take a deep breath.
Michael sinks into the cushion next to you. He spreads his legs wide and leans back, putting an arm around your back as you hang your head in your hands. You shake your head, rubbing the sides as you mutter incoherent curses.
“This is officially a nightmare.”
Michael laughs, bells ringing, and rests his hand against your back. He continues his soothing rubbing from earlier.
“It’s not that bad, baby.”
“Oh really?” You turn to look at him. “My mother invited our extended family without my knowledge, and now everyone knows that I’m dating the biggest pop star in the world. Not to mention, Filipinos are the most tsimosa people alive, so everyone and their mother in their vicinity will definitely find out too.”
You lean forward to bury your head in Michael’s neck. He chuckles as you groan again, this time deep enough to feel it in your gut.
“I just feel bad. I know we were trying to be lowkey.”
You feel Michael shake his head. “I promise, everything’s okay.”
You raise your head to look at him, your face feeling hot with embarrassment.
“Are you sure?”
Michael smiles and kisses your forehead. He pulls back, face aglow.
“100%. I’m just glad I can meet more of the people who love you.”
Your face burns hotter, and you swat Michael’s chest. “Oh, shut up. They get on my nerves sometimes.”
He laughs. “Well, what’s family for?”
After a few more minutes psyching yourself up on the couch, you get up and take a deep breath. You walk into the kitchen just as your mother yells for you.
“‘Nak, dinner’s ready!”
You wince, her shrill voice ringing in your eardrums. “I’m here, ‘nay.”
“Ay, you startled me. Come here, sit down.”
Your mother practically pulls Michael into the dining room and positions him close to the head of the table. You follow behind, sinking into your chair next to him. Though your nervousness is piqued, you glance hungrily over the spread on the table. Pancit, calderetta, menudo, and various rice and small platters adorn the large surface—your mother prepared a whole feast. You haven’t realized how hungry you are until your stomach grumbles.
Soon, everyone files into the dining room. Your titas and titos greet you with just as much enthusiasm as your cousins. You finally see your father and kiss him on the cheek.
“Hi, tatay,” You smile up at him as he pulls away. He greets you with an equally warm smile.
“Welcome home, anak.” Your father says as he heads to the opposite end of the table.
Your brother soon comes stalking in, brooding in his own late teen manner.
“Hi, Ate.” He says shortly, lightly pushing your shoulder as he saunters towards his chair at the end of the table. He reaches over to shake Michael’s hand, skirting over your own reach for his hoodie.
Your brother had met him once before, and despite his quiet nature, he opened up to your boyfriend rather quickly, to your surprise. You’re grateful that he still feels comfortable around him.
“Hey, bro.” You smirk at him as he rolls his eyes, shrugging you away.
As he settles down into his chair, he glances between you and Michael.
“So, he’s your boyfriend?”
A hush falls over the dinner table. You glare at your brother, who glances at you wickedly before turning his face back to a neutral expression. He knows exactly what he’s doing, pressing on your nerves like this.
Everyone else had been glancing at Michael, murmuring and pointing over with their lips and heads but not daring to address him directly. Michael, as usual, just looks at everyone and nods in his polite way.
Now, all heads turn towards the two of you. Your brother just stares, face blank and matter-of-fact, observing the two of you with a curious look.
You gulp and open your mouth to speak, but any stuttering words quickly die in your throat as your mother claps her hands. She sits down next to Michael and waves at everyone to come closer.
“First, we say grace. Save the questions for when we eat, boy.”
The affectionate nickname for your brother rolls off your mother’s tongue, and he just shrugs. You silently thank your mother for unknowingly stalling the inevitable dinner conversation.
Your family members grab each other’s hands and bow their heads. Michael follows suit, glancing at you as you nod at him. He holds your mother’s hand, and she smiles brightly at him before bowing her head.
Your father leads the prayer, and you keep your eyes closed. After he finishes, everyone quickly signs thank you before diving in. Bowls and napkins are passed around, silverware clinking on the plates as people start to eat.
The dining room fills with lively chatter and boisterous laughter. Wine and various drinks are also passed around. You and Michael opt for nonalcoholic options, and you keep an eye out for the family members who drink the wine and are getting louder by the minute.
You mostly keep quiet, mind wandering as you focus on chewing your food. Now and then, the tita who sits next to you leans over conspiratorially, asking in a grave, serious tone questions that seem frivolous but are quite important to her at the moment. You answer her, equally as serious, before she turns away to the family member on her right to ask the same question.
You shake your head, amused, and glance around the table as you continue eating. Happy, smiling faces, cousins messing around, and even your brother is roped into the controlled chaos, at ease as he fires lighthearted jokes back. You take the time to really observe everyone’s face, everyone engrossed in the conversation at hand or the food and drink in front of them.
Eventually, your eyes land on your mother, who has not even acknowledged the tito sitting on her left, as she is fully focused on the conversation she’s having with your boyfriend. You look at Michael, who listens to your mother’s replies attentively, eyes bright and trained on her. He’s relaxed, leaning forward to take a bite of food or a sip of orange juice. You feel his leg brush yours and stay rested there, comfortable and sure.
Your brother’s voice chimes over the noise at the table, instantly snapping you back to attention.
“You haven’t answered my question yet, ‘te.”
Your head whips towards his direction, and you send him another glare. Your brother’s eyes twinkle with a wicked look, peering over his glass of water as he takes a long sip.
You soften your expression as you glance around the table sheepishly. You reach for some water, chugging the glass down before clearing your throat and wiping your mouth.
“Um, well, yes. Hi everyone.” A nervous chuckle leaves your mouth, and you feel Michael’s palm rest on your thigh, warm and firm. He gives you a reassuring smile as you glance at him. You smile back and rest your hand on top of his.
“I know not everyone has had the chance to meet Michael, so here he is.”
You gesture at him, and he nods to everyone at the table.
“Hello. It’s nice to meet you all.”
Everyone leans in, drinking in his words, seeming to glow brighter in his presence. You begin to introduce everyone by name.
“Michael, this is my Tita Luz…”
One by one, Michael says hello and repeats their name back with a warm smile. Your titas all preen from his attention, much to your amusement. Your titos are a little more wary, but they genuinely watch him in admiration. Your father greets him firmly, and your cousins are no better than they were earlier. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at their antics.
You reach the end of the table, and the attention turns to your mother. She’s been watching the interactions with an indiscernible look in her eyes. It makes you nervous, and your leg begins to bounce. Michael squeezes your thigh, stilling the movement slightly, but you continue to shake it a little.
“So anak, how have you two enjoyed living together?”
You steel yourself and swallow dryly. “We like it a lot. We’re both busy with work, so we have our own routines. But it’s nice to come home at the end of the day and see each other.”
Michael smiles at you before looking at your mother. “Yes, she’s helped turn the house into a real home. Picked out the decorations and everythin’. It’s beautiful, and she runs the place like a tight ship—think she gets it from her mama.”
Michael winks at her, and you see her turn her face away, blushing. She waves the napkin in her hand to hit his arm gently, teasing. Her expression softens after that, which is a miracle.
“Oh, bhe, stop it.”
Suddenly, all the questions from around the table burst open like a river dam cracking.
“Is it true you have giraffes in the backyard?”
“When can we visit?”
“Michael, can you show us all your animals, pleeaase?”
“‘Te, how big is your room? How big is your closet? Do you have multiple closets?!”
“Can you fit all of us? I mean, the whole family? What about Michael’s family?”
You and Michael look at each other, taking turns answering everyone. It feels like an interrogation, which makes you sweat a little. You keep your hand firmly on top of Michael’s and glance every so often at him. His face is still relaxed, still smiling and calm amidst the chaos, and you feel a fondness spread warm in your chest as he takes it all in stride.
Your mother gasps, slamming her hands on the table and standing up. You jump slightly and dread the look on her face. It’s like a lightbulb appeared above her head, an “aha!” moment of which you have no idea what to expect.
She begins clearing the table, and everyone else stands to help out. As she disappears into the kitchen with a pile of plates, she yells over her shoulder,
“‘Te, set up the Magic Mic!”
You freeze, hand halfway to picking up another plate. Your family members chatter loudly with excitement, moving around your rooted stance as your jaw drops in disbelief. Your brother howls at your expression, and you unfreeze to glare at him again.
“Shut up! Wait no, nanay, we’re not doing Magic Mic right now—”
You call after her, hurrying into the kitchen, but your mom’s voice booms louder, tittering.
“No, no, it’s perfect! Michael will love it! I mean, it’s sort of named after him after all.”
You groan at the pun, placing the dishes in the sink. You hover nearby, stalling. You hand her dishes to rinse before she places them in the dishwasher.
“What’s Magic Mic?” Michael’s voice chimes next to you, joining the assembly line as the pile of dirty dishes amasses. He waits patiently as the dishes are rinsed off.
“Ay, why are you here and not setting up?” Your mother ignores him for a second before she calls for your brother. “Boy, set the machine up!”
Then she glances at Michael, mirth oozing from her eyes.
“Magic Mic is the Filipino version of karaoke.”
Michael’s eyebrows shoot up, looking at you in amusement. “Karaoke, huh?”
“Filipinos love karaoke!” She simpers, and you groan loudly.
“‘Nay, please do not subject Michael to karaoke. We’re going to be here forever.”
“Well, more reason for you to stay.” She humphs, moving around you to grab the dishwasher cleaner.
You roll your eyes out of her sight. “Nanay, it’s not that we don’t want to be here. You’re really going to make Michael listen to everyone sing all night?”
“Yes.” She loads the dishwasher, starts it, and straightens. She crosses her arms, a stubborn look in her eyes. She glances at Michael and smiles sweetly.
“You want to stay, don’t you, bhe? You can even sing a song or two, if you like. But no promises; her Tito Ricky especially is a hogger.”
You glance at Michael and tug on his arm, giving him a desperate look. Michael glances between your mother’s encouraging face and your begging eyes. He bites his lip, thoroughly amused, and you want to smack him for how handsome he is while obviously giving in to your mother’s antics.
“We can stay for a little while, can’t we, honey?”
His voice drips with charm, big doe eyes round and pleading, and you just hang your head against his shoulder, defeated.
Your mother squeals. “Yay! Come into the dining room, bhe, get comfy.”
Your family is already crowded in the living room, watching the grainy TV screen light up with the Magic Mic welcome screen. Scenes of the Philippines fade in from one another, the lighthearted music pairing melodically with them. Your cousins fight over the heavy song binder, yanking it from one another and nearly tearing the pages out from the rings as they flip from one end to the other.
You and Michael squeeze into the loveseat in the corner. He watches your cousins with amusement, eyes flitting from the TV curiously and peering at the tiny letters in the binder.
“How many songs are in there?” He leans over to whisper in your ear over the noise.
You lean back. “I dunno, definitely hundreds.”
“Wow.” Comically, Michael’s eyes are like saucers, ogling the binder with a newfound fascination. “You gonna sing somethin’, baby?”
You shake your head vigorously. “Oh no. I mean, maybe I could be convinced by the cousins. But no solos for me tonight.”
Michael just hums, glancing at you with a smile. You reach over to adjust his jacket collar, which had gone askew.
“Will you sing something, Mikey? You don’t have to… God, I’m sorry that we’re even subjecting you to this.”
Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, and Michael laughs, deep and low. He smooths out the loose hair strands framing your face and gives your cheek a soft peck.
“Don’t apologize, baby. This is wonderful. Your family’s so energetic, I love it.”
You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. “Yeah, they drive me crazy.”
Michael laughs again. “Well, I love crazy.”
You laugh with him, catching his genuine gaze, and turn your attention back to the group in front of you. Somehow, your Tito Ricky has already taken the mic with the only remote control and is plugging in the numbers for his song. Your cousins whine at him for stealing the first turn, and he shushes them.
Once he enters the numbers, the screen flashes with the song title, and the robotic karaoke instrumental kicks in: Total Eclipse of the Heart.
You cover your mouth immediately, shoulders shaking with laughter, and grip onto Michael’s leg to steel yourself. Everyone else howls with cheers and laughter as Tito Ricky falls completely into the song.
(Turn around)
Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely
And you're never coming 'round
Your entire family jumps in to sing the backing call phrases, and you can’t help yourself but sing along. Michael glances around, a bit taken aback by how good your voices blend.
(Turn around)
Every now and then, I get a little bit tired
Of listening to the sound of my tears
(Turn around)
Tito Ricky struts dramatically around the coffee table, bringing the mic up to each family’s mouth to sing a line. Everyone sways back and forth to the beat, immersing themselves in the performance. When he gets to you and Michael, he holds the mic between you two and you both belt the lyrics:
Turn around, bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
Turn around, bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
Then the most surprising thing happens: Tito Ricky points at everyone to sing the bridge and ending stanzas together. The decibels in the room rise to a fever pitch, and Michael continues to groove, looking around in amazement at the choir around him.
And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever…
The song eventually ends in a flourish, and everyone claps, hooting and hollering as Tito Ricky takes a dramatic bow. Your mother jumps up to grab the mic from him before he can choose another song.
“Okay, next person or group! Ricky, we need everyone to have a turn tonight,” She says into the mic, playfully slapping his arm.
One by one, your family members take the living room stage. You smile and cry tears of laughter at the funny performances, heartfelt performances, and everything in between. You’re dragged in the center at one point by your girl cousins, who insist on doing a very off-pitch, crazed version of Material Girl.
You’re shy at first, bouncing along to the beat, but you eventually warm up, jumping and dancing to your heart’s content. You feel sweat gather on your back, but you couldn’t be more elated. You laugh loudly, grabbing onto your cousins’ arms and backs. Every time you glance at Michael, you see him laser-focused on you, grinning from ear to ear and having the time of his life.
When you collapse onto the couch, Michael wraps his arm around your shoulders, squeezing you tight.
“That was amazing, baby! Y’all seriously sound lovely.”
Michael turns to address the room. He’s still speaking softly, but somehow his voice carries over the noise, and everyone looks at him. He laughs and adds, “I should recruit y’all for backing vocals on my next record…”
The room freezes for a moment, then bursts into louder noise after he says those words. He continues to laugh, trying to address everyone’s excited chattering as you wave them away.
“Uy, calm down! He’s just joking… right?”
You glance at Michael, a tad unsure, and he just shrugs, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“We’ll see.” You stare at him, flabbergasted, and he just pinches your cheek, chuckling.
The energy in the room is still palpable, but shifts into slower songs and calm ballads. Eventually, everyone in the room has taken a turn besides your brother, who would be caught dead before singing in front of people. Your mother pads over to you two and hands the mic out to Michael.
“Now I don’t want to force you to sing, bhe… but our family would love hearing you, if you’re up for it.”
He looks up at her, smiling shyly, before looking at you. You just nod, suddenly feeling nervous, but rub his arm encouragingly.
“Whatever you wanna do, baby.”
Michael thinks for a moment, then grabs the mic from your mother. He stands up and thanks her, stooping down to kiss her cheek. Your mother looks at you cheekily, grinning so wide her face might fall off, and you just roll your eyes, laughing.
Michael stands in the middle of the room, squatting down to file through the binder. The room falls into a hush, watching him search. He glances up and laughs into the mic.
“Sorry, I’m just tryna find the song… Y’all put me on the spot, so this might be rough.”
Michael’s tone is faux serious, and everyone laughs, assuring him he’ll be fine. Which, of course, he will be. Once his eyes land on the song he’s searching for, he reads the numbers quickly and turns to input them into the TV. The song that pops up genuinely surprises you: I’ll Be There.
Cheers erupt in the room. One of your cousins yells, “I love this song!” while flailing her arms. Michael laughs shyly, rubbing his neck. He narrates into the mic as the introduction plays.
“I couldn’t really think of a song… and this might be basic, but it’s really how I’m feelin’ now. I’m just very grateful to y’all for welcoming me into your home, and for allowing me to love your daughter.”
He looks at you and winks. Your jaw drops, dumbfounded, as heat creeps up your neck. The cousins sitting on the floor near you reach up to jostle you, jeering playfully. You swat them away, keeping your eyes on Michael, a small smile creeping on your face.
“So, this one’s for you, honey.”
Michael clears his throat and begins his song.
You and I must make a pact
We must bring salvation back
Where there is love
I'll be there
I'll reach out my hand to you
I'll have faith in all you do
Just call my name
And I'll be there
He walks over to you and holds out his hand, beckoning you to stand. Your family members cheer you on as you look around, timid, and grab onto Michael, holding tight.
He leads you to the middle of the room and wraps a hand around your waist. He pulls you close, and you look down in shock as you naturally link your arms above his neck. You glance up at him, blinking rapidly, a shy smile on your face as your family’s cheers grow louder.
Michael continues to sing, staring deep into your eyes. Though feeling eyes on you, the nervousness disappears as you stare back, relaxing into his gaze and angelic voice.
Let me fill your heart with joy and laughter
Togetherness well, it's all I'm after
Whenever you need me
I'll be there
I'll be there to protect you
With an unselfish love that respects you
Just call my name
And I'll be there
The room seems to shrink down to just the two of you. Your family fades into the background, and it’s just you, Michael, and the music, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You’ve heard this song thousands of times before, but never like this.
Never with Michael staring into your soul, earnest and passionate and full of love. You’ve never heard these words before like you do now. They sink beneath your skin, etch themselves into your bones. A promise that Michael lays out to bare, a confession in front of your loved ones, the ones closest to you, and him the closest to your heart.
Your chest floods with that love, threatening to burst like the smile on your face. Michael grins into the mic, leaning close to you, before fanning out and yelling to the small crowd,
“Now, everybody sing! Let’s hear those amazing voices!”
No one hesitates to join in, filling the room with a melody you’ll dedicate to memory forever.
Ooh, I'll be there
I'll be there
Whenever you need me
I'll be there
Don't you know baby, yeah yeah
I'll be there
I'll be there
Just call my name…
“I’ll be there,” Michael whispers into the mic, ending with a flourish, and lowers it to kiss you softly on the forehead.
The room erupts with screams, and you bury your face into Michael’s chest as he hugs you. You hear and feel his laughter, warm and deep, the rumbling washing over you like sunshine. You glance outward at everyone looking at you two, hearts in their eyes, and you can only laugh, leaning against him as you wave everyone off.
You catch the eye of your parents, standing next to each other. Your mother has her hands clasped, eyes shining with unshed tears. A look of resigned understanding, yet deep genuine love, is in your father’s expression. You almost burst into tears on the spot, seeing their unsaid words clear in their faces. You blow them a kiss, gratitude pouring from every cell.
The night afterwards slowly comes to an end. Michael chats with various family members as you help put away the Magic Mic equipment and clear the rest of the common areas. Your parents and brother disappear into the kitchen before reappearing with stacks of Tupperware. They shove them into everyone’s hands, imploring them to take food home.
Michael immediately grabs a few and hands them to the security guard posted outside the door. They take them into the car, and you just watch the whole exchange, amused.
“What?” He says, shrugging. “Your mama’s food is amazing. We have to learn the recipes.”
You laugh. “I’ll ask her for them right now.”
As you greet each of your family goodbye as they head out the door, you glance at Michael now and then to check in.
He’s always engaged with someone, talking and listening intently to what they say. He seems to have gotten closer to your younger cousins, who continue to crowd around him, but he’s laughing and joking with them as if he’s known them forever.
You’re standing by the staircase a few feet away, just watching him, when your mother comes to stand by you. She wraps an arm around you and leans her head in your shoulder.
“He’s a good one, ‘nak, isn’t he?”
You sigh and smile, looking down at her. “Yes, he is, ‘nay.”
You turn to face her and squeeze her hands.
“Thank you for having us over. I’m sorry I haven’t visited more often. I’ll try to come by more, promise.”
“That’s okay, bhe.” Your mother rubs your arm affectionately. “Come over again any time. Or… we could come over too.”
She smiles wickedly, and you just laugh.
“We’ll definitely host soon.”
“Maybe for Christmas! And his family can come too!”
Your eyes widen, and you nod, albeit hesitantly. “Um, yeah sure! We’ll talk and see.”
You talk for a little longer until it’s just you and Michael left. Your brother is hunched over on the staircase, looking exhausted, and you walk over to ruffle his hair.
“Hey, squirt. Don’t miss me too much, okay?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”
You push his head lightly, and he pushes you back, harder. You laugh as he grumbles, and you walk back towards Michael, who’s standing by the open door and shaking your father’s hand.
“Thank you for having us over, sir. You really have a lovely home and family.”
Your father clears his throat awkwardly, but flashes a small, genuine smile.
“You’re welcome, anytime. Get home safe, ‘nak, okay?”
“Okay tatay,” You reply, reaching up to hug your father tight. “I’ll ring once we’re back.”
He nods, and you hug your mother next. “Bye, nanay.”
“Goodnight, anak.” She pulls away and points to you both sternly. “Don’t be strangers. We expect an invitation next month.”
You laugh nervously and wrap your arms around Michael’s. “We’ll try our best, nanay; you know Michael’s very busy.”
Michael shakes his head, smiling. “Sounds like a plan. We’ll find time.”
“You better,” Your mother says firmly. Michael laughs, mumbling a soft “yes, ma’am” in reply.
Your mother suddenly grabs both of your hands, staring deeply at both of you. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, looking grateful and overwhelmed all at once.
“Take care of each other, ha?”
You blink once and nod. “Of course, nanay.”
“I promise with my life,” Michael says immediately, firm and determined.
Your mother nods and releases you, sniffing and shooing you out. “Okay, now go, it’s late! Sleep well! Call us, ‘nak!”
You and Michael walk towards your car, the back door already open. Before you slide in, you glance back at your parents’ door.
Your mother’s waving while wiping her face, and your father just watches you, stoic and calm. You smile and wave back, getting into the car. Michael follows and closes the door, and the car peels away out of your neighborhood.
You release a loud sigh and lean back into the seat. Michael follows suit, and you look at each other before bursting into laughter.
“Damn, I’m spent,” You say.
“Me, too.” Michael reaches over to wrap his hand over yours. “But I had so much fun. I haven’t done karaoke in… ever, I think.”
“Really?” You shift to lean on your right, still holding Michael’s hand but facing him fully. “Well, I’m glad you had fun. That wasn’t all too much?
Michael shakes his head vigorously. “Oh no, not at all. Honestly, your family’s awesome. I’m so happy I met them.”
You smile, ducking your head down at your joined hands. You rub his thumb for a moment before speaking again.
“I’m happy you met them, too.” You whisper. You look up at Michael with watery eyes. “Thank you.”
Michael tilts his head, reaching up with his opposite hand to caress your face. He thumbs over the apple of your cheek. “For what, baby?”
“For being you. For being so wonderful. My family loves you, obviously. And for that performance… You basically gave us a free concert.”
You laugh, and he joins you. “It was my pleasure, baby. I’d do anything for you, and for them.”
You sniffle, forcing yourself not to cry at his sweet words. “You just met them, honey.”
He smiles softly. “I know. But they’re an extension of you. And I love you with everything in me. So, I love them too.”
You pout, moving forward to attack him in a fierce hug. Michael grunts, taken aback for a moment, before he engulfs you in strong arms. His scent overwhelms you, the warmth from his body spreading over yours like wildfire.
“I love you so much, Mikey, you know that, right?” You whisper into his ear.
Michael threads a hand through your hair, humming. You watch the city lights passing you by through the window, thanking God for your life and for bringing this man into it.
“Like I know the sun will rise tomorrow, my love.”
And as the city twinkles against the night sky, you know deep in your bones that you’ll always hold onto the memory of this night and the man in your arms for as long as you have breath and life.
