She's Your Muse, Mike
Synopsis: You arrive at Westlake Studio to drag your boyfriend back home. Somehow you end up mediating a song track between him and his equally perfectionist of a producer. Bill is the only one who's amused by the entire situation.
Tags: Fluff. With historical references. But fluff. You and Michael have been together for about two years now and are known fairly well in his inner circle.
A/n: This one's borne out of my vendetta because wdym Quincy chose Another Part of Me over Streetwalker for Bad? I'm a staunch Streetwalker fan cause that song is a banger. APOM is amazing too, I love that but yes. Which one's your fav?
Late 1986, Westlake Studio
The dim lighting of the long hallways of Westlake seems to go forever as you walk past closed doors in search of the one where you have spent hours waiting for your boyfriend to finish polishing and arranging vocals for his upcoming album.
Even from the sidelines, the recording looks excruciating. Michael's input alone stretches days to perfect a single track. Then you add Quincy Jones and Bruce Swedien to the list and now you've a team ready to tear into the playback per second until it sounds the same as its in their mind.
While you understand the perfectionist streak, Michael's seems to be on another level.
Lately he has started back on his routine t unknowingly turning the studio into his refuge, like he does when the creative streak burns too bright that his physical needs get pushed to the back.
Bill has called you, saying someone has to rein the man back and remind him that he's more than his art.
So here you are, standing outside studio D with a box of home-cooked meals and his vitamins that he keeps leaving behind. Before you can knock, the door swings open.
Bill's warm smile welcomes you. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
"That bad?" You ask, searching for a familiar head of curls.
Bill begins, opening the door wider. "About that —"
"Darlin'!"
Michael's high and soft voice makes you turn around to the mixing console. You catch sight of Quincy's fond smile before your boyfriend's bright ones takes over. His hand goes around your waist at once as he presses a quick kiss to your lips.
"I didn't know you were coming today." He looks at Bill with a frown and asks him suspicious, "Is this your work, Bill?"
He pats Michael on the back. "Someone gotta look out for you, joker." He throws you a subtle look. "Maybe she can help you out with the selection."
A bewildered look forms on your face. Your expertise in music stretches only up to complimenting the latest radio hits and dancing in the kitchen with Michael to them.
"A fresh pair of ears might help us out," Quincy pitches from the board. He waves hand over to you. "Come on in"
You try to protest because you came in only to pick your boyfriend home, not mediate an argument between these two. "But —"
"Please, baby." Michael joins in, his doe eyes soft as he drags you in by hand. "You have to prove Q wrong."
You shoot a betrayed look back at Bill, who has stepped back to his seat with a hand over his mouth, definitely hiding a big grin at your plight.
Michael leans his hip against the console counter. You tentatively shift your gaze between him and Quincy. "What's up with you two?"
Quincy points a threatening pen at Michael. "We've been at this for fifteen hours and your man won't come to terms with me."
Michael claps back. "You keep roundin' the same thing, Q." He mimics the older man. "The song's great Mike but there would be no variation at all then! How are we gonna take over Thriller with this?"
Quincy's lips twitch. "Boy, you kept track of 'em all."
You watch in amusement when Michael dramatically collapses into an empty chair. "'course, I did." He leans over the console and messes with a couple buttons. He snaps a finger at you. "Love, imma play the demo and you're going to say which is the best between the two."
Stepping between this might not be the wisest thing you did all day but who are you to refuse when your boyfriend asks you with those pretty, big brown eyes? Still, you tell the two. "Hope you both know that I don't have a degree in audio engineering. Or music."
Michael shrugs. "Neither do I." He flicks on a switch and the first track plays.
The song starts with a casual groove that has you listening intently. Michael's gritty voice fills the room as the song plays on. The chorus immediately hooks in your mind, the repetition of baby, I love you followed by the cascade of baby I want you, baby come love me.
The bridge, the outro — you loved everything in this track. With the way Michael was actively tracking your reaction with eagerness, you had a hunch that this must be his selection.
He asks expectantly, "So, what do you think?"
"I love this song. It has a really wonderful groove to it," you tell him genuinely. You look at Quincy with your arms crossed. "I don't know how yours will out-do this, Q."
Michael looks taken aback. "How d'you know this one's mine?"
Quincy merely snorts as he switches tracks. "Your girl, ain't she?"
The next track plays, the time with strong percussion beats in the intro. You unconsciously tap your foot to the rhythm when Michael's strong vocals begin. The way he enunciated the phrase you're just another part of me has you smiling, his typical method of making you listen deeply to the words and have it stuck in your mind.
"This one is like a dance track," you say as the track completes. "It makes you wanna move immediately."
Michael snaps his fingers at Quincy. "See, she didn't say it was good."
"It is good, of course," you say because it's the truth. Both the songs have a different weight and would provide a varied artistic sense to the album. But if you had to choose one —
"I think the first song is more of Michael's thing." You tell Quincy apologetically, "The second one was definitely good but.. I like the first one more."
Michael tugs you to his side with his hand around your waist, conspicuously brimming with pride. "It's two versus one here, Q." He smiles wide at his producer. "You gotta be fair here."
Quincy stares at you two with a look of exasperation. And then, you see the beginning of a teasing grin, something that forms before he decides to take the mick out of Michael.
"'course your woman likes Streetwalker, Smelly," he begins. "You wrote this track with her on your mind, so why wouldn't she?"
The recording studio goes silent for a moment after Quincy's revelation. You slowly face Michael, pulse in your throat, to know if it is true.
The mild red staining the apples of his cheeks said all that you need to know.
"That was supposed to be a secret, Q," he mutters, looking away.
Quincy tuts, going back to the mixing board. "You shouldn't be hiding your art from your muse, Mike."
A distinct quiet laugh emerges from the back of the studio, definitively Bill who must be having the time of his life by seeing Michael being mortified.
"Oh, Michael," you begin, not knowing what to say. "That — this is so sweet of you, baby."
Your words break him out of his state. With a shy smile forming on his lips, he buries his face into your neck.
Your fingers carefully rake through his curls as he says, "I meant to tell you once the entire album was done."
You whisper. "That definitely would've been quite a surprise."
"Good thing you heard it now," Quincy tells you. "Streetwalker is still not gonna be in the final cut."
Michael knocks his forehead to your shoulder with a groan. "Frank is gonna pay for it."
Part of the album or not, you are already content that you were in Michael's mind enough to be his muse for a song.
Years later, Quincy continues to rib him with it when he comes to your wedding.
Remember one of the first songs you wrote with her in your mind? he teases. Quite bad it never made the cut.
End notes: Thank you for reading <3 Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. See you in the next one!
