what if thriller!michael wasn’t the visionary pop star we knew he was. what if he was this shy cute banker at your local bank. i would call it workin day and night. imagine thriller!michael having his desk decorated with family photos of them on different vacation locations and of his pets back at hayvenhurst. the elderly clients requesting him to do their deposits because he’s the most respectful and kind banker at the branch. his co workers knows michael to be too soft, spoke too low, too invested with the clients feelings, can barely hold eye contact with peers, a bit of a walk over in their words. you see, michael works with men that come from stockbroker and finical advisors backgrounds that thinks you need an assertive, demanding, man-eating mindset. a mindset michael doesn’t have. to him, he wanted the clients happy to bank with them. not persuade them into signing up for a high loan that would gain him commission and their credit to free fall. michael doesn’t care what they say about him in the branch because he always end his month with his monthly goals of 20 new accounts opened, maybe even more. michael thought their mindset was just red pill and misogynistic.
anywho, youre over chase bank. you’re tired of your checking account being temporarily restricted after swiping your card one time, deposits being held from you and the constant breaches that they can never explain. the hacker keep gaining their internal systems which terrified you because you were already a broke full time student. you assumed their password had to be “ chasedabag000 “ or something at this point. you were fed up so you woke up one tuesday morning to take a trip to chase to close your account and go to the local bank next to your apartment to open an account. the branch was empty. you were happy because waiting in long lines agitated you.
when you walk in, you’re immediately greeted with a sweet voice from behind the computer. michael’s welcomes were basically on auto each time he heard the doorbell ding. his long fingers typing against the keyboard, its echo filled the quiet space of the bank. finally when he looks up at your face, he instantly freezes and forgets how to breathe. you tell him your situation, desperate of a new account and still traumatized by chase. while you spoke to him of your past experiences with chase, he watched your glossy lips. wondered how they feel on his. his gaze would then go to your natural make up look. he was amazed and impressed by how pigmented your blush was on your dark cheekbones. butterflies bubbled in his stomach at the thought of how you may have looked without make up enhancements. he bet you didn’t even need make up. without realizing, michael fell into a complete daydream about him holding you by your waist, kissing your glossy lips not caring that it smeared onto his, him telling you that you didn’t need make up.
meanwhile you stood there, a bit creeped out by the way he’s just …..staring at you. “i said i came to open an account.” you say a bit more aggressive, hoping that it would pull him back into reality. michael’s eyes widen slightly, a blush spreading across his face when realization hit him that he had been staring at you for the last 3 minutes. snickers from the other men spread across the branch. this didn’t go unnoticed by you. you felt bad. you embarrassed him by accident.
a flustered michael nodded quickly, “r-right, sorry. i uh—how can i help you? i mean—h-have a sit” you sat in the chair in front of the desk, confused by his sudden flustered. he reached over to grab a post it note so you could write down your personal information but instead he accidentally knocked over a cup full of pens onto the ground next to your feet. “sorry” he apologized to you, too quickly. he kneeled to pick up the pens one by one. his hands shaking, he tried to hold his breath just so he wouldn’t take in your sweet vanilla scent that made him go crazy. he avoided to look at you as much as possible while he picked up the pens. he must have also avoided his desk in his peripheral as well because the top of his head connected with the underside of his desk on his way up. michael let out a yelp, his fingers let go of the pens and caressed the top of his head that stung. each pen falling back down to where they were before he kneeled to grab them.
“oh my god! are you okay!?” you ask in a panic, you knew that had to hurt because you heard how hard he hit his head. michael winced but still nodded. he stood to his height while smoothing his head, “yeah im fine—can you put your first and last name on that sticky note. there’s pens on the ground” he groaned. a giggle escaped from your glossy lips. the uncomfortable feeling now starting to fade, you thought he was adorable. his cheeks burned in humiliation as he sat back down in his seat behind his desk. the light laughs from his coworkers didn’t make it no better, they was loving every bit of it.
despite his nervousness around you, you were pleased with his customer services and his help with opening a new account. you wondered why you even went to bank with chase when you lived so close to a local bank with helpful staff. you couldn’t leave without getting the name of the gentleman who helped you. “im sorry, i didn’t get your name. you were so helpful today. already better than chase.” michael blushed looking down at his keyboard to hide his blush. your compliments warmed his chest already and he didn’t even know you that well. “my name is michael.” he said softly. you nodded, “well michael. thank you for your help and put some ice on your head, i think you may have an concussion” you half joked with a dry chuckle. that earned a slight nod and a giggle from michael. you gave him one last goodbye before leaving the bank. michael finally exhaled deeply, his gaze lingering at the door a while longer. he hoped he got to see you again.
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